#jackie saw the entire thing and never lets them live it down

[mydemonsdrivealimo]

pirate au but it's just the part where jensen accidentally pushes bryce overboard bc they were kissing a Little too close to the rail

[angel-ixily]

Two of the Same ~Pt 3~

Pairings: Tim Drake//Red Robin x gn!Reader

Fandom: DC Universe

Warnings: Use of language, mentions of violence and wounds

A/N: This is the last chapter, and I’ll be honest, I haven’t proofread much of it, and it’s kind of long! I’m so sorry, loves! I just don’t see enough Tim fanfics on here, and he’s one of my favorite characters ever, so I decided to make some for you! Enjoy!

Summary: Every night a masked vigilante comes into Y/N's bedroom, and to their knowledge, it's to "clean his wounds." But the visits go deeper than that when underneath that mask, unbeknownst to Y/N, is their classmate, Tim Drake, who has a huge crush on them.

— — —

Two of the Same ~pt 1~

Two of the Same ~pt 2~

~~~~~~~~

Are we dating? Are we together? I’m not entirely sure.

I still have no clue who Red Robin is underneath that mask. I have no idea who he is, and it’s killing me. I’ve asked him about it, and he keeps saying “soon.” Like, when’s soon? How soon? It’s already been 2 months, and I’m still not sure what soon means. Does he even know when soon is? I’ve known the guy for almost 2 years, we’ve been all mushy gushy for almost 3 months.

It’s literally killing me.

Does he think that I’m going to hate his face? He wears a thin mask that only covers his eyes. I’ve already seen half of it, and I don’t hate it.

I put down the pencil and notebook that I had just finished writing my thoughts in as soon as I heard my phone buzz.

I smiled when I saw that Tim had sent me another text. In fact, he had sent me two texts.

I squealed and jumped out of my bed, running across the hall and into the bathroom to start the shower. I then ran out of the bathroom and back into my bedroom to get a change of clothes, and some of my hair stuff.

“Y/N! What are you doing in there?” My father asked from what I think was the living room.

“My friend invited me out, and I’m pretty excited, sorry!” I announced. My parents were muttering to each other for a moment and the last sentence I heard was-

“Y/N never gets that excited about hanging out with Jackie..” I laughed at that until I heard my mothers voice.

“Is it that boy? The one you’ve been texting?” She asks. I pause for a moment.

“How do you know about that?” I say as I peek my head out into the hallway.

“Oh come on, Y/N. Your phone bill went up 25 dollars this past month, and you get super excited when your phone lights up with a notification. The only reasonable explanation is a boy.” She stated.

Curse my parents for being lawyers.

And curse me for being so obvious with it.

“Yeah well. It is a boy.” I agree, taking all of my stuff into the bathroom with me.

“Well just be safe, okay? And make sure he’s not in any gangs?” She asked of me.

“But if he is in one, tell us so that we can go against him in court and make money!” My father added, before I closed the door. I rolled my eyes, smiling, as I stripped out of my clothes and stepped into our shower.

I had to exit the shower real quick, though, because I forgot to press play on my music.

When I stepped back in, the warm water felt nice against my back, but because my parents loved high water pressure, it felt like pebbles of rocks were being thrown at me, which was annoying. But I had to do what I had to do.

I washed my hair, shaved my legs, washed my body 3 times with 3 different soaps, and then a scrub. When I stepped out, I smelled like the colors of the rainbow, and immediately wrapped a towel around my body and hair, so that the cold air wouldn’t give me pneumonia.

I did a facial routine as I waited for my body to dry, and took my damp hair out of the towel as I finished up.

I don’t want to take too long and bore you dear reader as I explain what I did for the remainder of the time before Tim got there, so let me just speed things up for you.

I brushed out my hair, dried off my body, put my clothes on, dried my hair, proceeded to sing along to a bomb ass song on my playlist with the brush as my microphone, and the hair dryer blowing my hair back for dramatic effect, styled my hair, brushed my teeth, and walked out of the bathroom just in time because Tim had texted me notifying me that he was outside.

I told him I’d be right out, and I went into my bedroom to grab a pack of mint gum and my wallet just in case.

“Alright. Well I’m about to head out. I love you guys, and don’t have too much fun without me.” I told my parents as I walked past them in the living room.

“Have fun honey! Oh! And gangs! Careful of the gangs!” My mom yelled as I began to walk out the door.

“Money!” My father yelled immediately when I closed the door.

How silly my parents could be. And then I’d wonder where I got it from.

I basically ran down the hallway and down the stairs, until I came in view of the front door leading out to the street. I fixed my hair real quick, and adjusted my outfit, and walked out of the door.

In my view had to be one of the nicest cars I had ever seen, and inside of it was none other than Tim Drake. I smiled at him, and opened the door of the car.

“Hey!” I said as I sat in the seat. He smiled at me.

“You look beautiful.” He commented immediately. I blushed.

“Oh uh. Yeah thanks. You look nice too!” I complimented back. He chuckled, and pointed to the seatbelt.

“Don’t forget to buckle yourself in. I like to think I’m a good driver, but you never know what could happen.” He waited until I buckled myself in so that he could pull out and onto the street.

“So the cafè is a little of a ways from here, but that’s fine! It’s a really nice place, and I can’t wait to take you there.” He commented, glancing over to me. I smiled brightly.

“I can’t wait! I saw it on your Instagram last night, and it looks like a really comfortable environment!” A devious smirk covered his lips.

“I haven’t posted on my instagram in 3 months, Y/N.” He paused. “Were you stalking my Insta?” He asked. I rolled my eyes.

“It’s really aesthetically pleasing. How could I not look at it!” I tried to explain myself. In reality, I really just liked looking at photos of him, which sounded creepy. But to my defense, there was something about him that, and though I hated to admit it, attracted me to him.

Tim was cute, and smart, and funny. He cared about me and always asked if I was doing alright. He came to school more often now, and I had really started to like him. But my main issue was that I also really liked Red Robin. It made my heart hurt knowing that I couldn’t have both, and that I liked Tim while liking the masked vigilante.

“Are you okay?” Tim asked. I looked over to him, while he kept glancing at me, a concerned look in his eye.

“Oh I’m fine! I’m just thinking about a friend right now.” I told him. His eyebrows furrowed.

“Jackie?” He questioned. I laughed. I might as well be thinking of Jackie after she told me of her pregnancy scare last night, but my thoughts wandered elsewhere.

“Not exactly. Though I do worry about that girl sometimes. She’s a little crazy.” I comment, turning my body a little to face him. “Who knows. Maybe I was thinking of you!” I say, a small smile playing my lips. He blushes.

“I’d be honored if you were.” He smiles at me as we pull next to a sidewalk, with the supposed cafè right next to it. It was in Gotham square, and Tim was right, it did look comfortable.

I went to open my side of the car door, but Tim told me to hold on, and jumped out of the car. He closed the door and ran to the other side to open it for me.

“Sorry about that.” He said, as I got out of the car.

“What a gentlemen.” I teased as he closed the door behind me. He smiled, and we walked up to the door to the cafè. This time, I opened it for him.

“My turn now.” I joked. He laughed, and I followed behind him inside. It was quiet, and I could see why this would be Tim’s favorite place to be. It reminded me so much of him, actually. Quiet, peaceful, calm. And if cozy was a word I could use to describe a person, he’d be cozy.

“Tim! Hi!” A girl with long blonde hair said behind the counter. She noticed me and smirked. “Who’s this lovely person with you?” She asked.

“I’m Y/N.” I say, smiling at her. She returns it with a pearly grin.

“The usual, Timmy?” She asked. Tim nodded, and she turned to me. “And you, my love?” She asked. I really liked this girl. She seemed super sweet and enthusiastic.

“Can I get an iced peppermint latte?” I asked. She nodded.

“That’s my favorite too.” She commented, placing up the total. “And I’ll use the family discount for ya, Timmers.” She said, clicking some buttons on the screen. “Your total is 18.61.” She looked up at us and I took out a twenty in my wallet. Tim shook his head.

“I got it! Besides, she’s my sister. I’d never hear the end of it.” He said to me, putting his card into the machine. I stared at the two of them.

“You guys are siblings?” I asked. The girl nodded.

“Yep! Tim here is my little brother! Adoptive, that is. But still!” She beams down at him. He rolls his eyes.

“You’re older by a year. I’m not that much younger.” He reminded her, a smirk tugging his lips. She shrugged.

“Still younger!” She pressed one more button on the screen. “I’ll get those orders right out for the two of you!” She announced before she turned around to make the drinks.

I look over to Tim and he takes a breath. “Let’s sit at my favorite spot. Over here.” He leads the way to a cute little booth by the window, and we sit down across from one another.

“I would have never guessed that was your sister.” I laughed, glancing back at her as she was making the drinks.

“Yeah, my father has a habit of adopting kids. I have 7 older siblings, and one younger sibling.” He informs me. My jaw drops.

“No way!” I say, shocked. He nods.

“Yeah. Kate is the oldest, then comes Babs, Luke, Dick, Jason, Cass, Steph, me, and Damian.” He tells me, tapping his fingers on the table. I start to giggle.

“What?” He asks, a smile forming on his face.

“You give off little brother vibes, is all. Like, I could have figured you were one of the youngest in the family.” I joke. He begins to hide his smile as he shakes his head.

“Everybody says that, and I hate it.” I reach across and put my hand on his shoulder. He freezes, and blushes.

“It’s alright. I’m sure you still keep up with all of them.” I rub my thumb on his shoulder before I pull away. The blush deepens on his cheeks.

“I’m an only child. My parents saw how much of a hassle one child was, and dismissed any talk about having other children. I don’t think they regretted their decision.” I told him. A look of concern spread on his lips.

“Why? Were you that bad of a kid?” He asked. I shook my head.

“No. I’m just straight up my parents child. I act just like both of them, and they didn’t want to know what personality another one of their potential children could have. Having one that shared the same traits of theirs was enough.” I responded. Tim looked out the window.

“None of the adopted kids in my family are like Bruce. We all share similar traits, but we’re nothing alike. Dick is overly positive, Jason is overly negative, Babs is badass, Steph is sarcastic, Cass is quiet, Luke is wise, Kate is serious. The closest one to Bruce is probably Damian, who is his biological son.” Tim spoke, nodding his head as he finished his sentence.

“What about you?”

“Huh?”

“What about you?” I repeated, staring at him straight in the eyes. “What do you have in common with him?”

“I don’t know. My logic? Maybe? I think I’m just like you. I’m probably my biological parents child.” He declared. I nodded.

“Nothing wrong with that! But I think you shouldn’t hold yourself to a lower standard then the rest of your siblings. You all share your qualities, and I really like yours.” I smile at him, and he returns it, making it my turn to blush.

“This may sound cheesy to say, but I like hanging out with you. We should do this more often.” He commented. I laughed, crossing my arms.

“Why? Because you like me complimenting you?” I asked. His eyes widen, and he shakes his head.

“No! No, no, no! You’re just super fun, and… you’re uhm.. you’re a good person so…” He starts to stumble across his words and I shake my head.

“I was just teasing you, Tim. I like hanging out with you too.” We both stop smiling as we’re staring into each others eyes. From the lighting in this cafè, he looks like an angel. It’s lighting up his raven black hair, and making him look even more beautiful in that sweater. The softness of this cafè make his features softer too. A part of me hopes that the reason that he looks so calm and relaxed is because he’s with me.

Or maybe I’m a narcissist who thinks everything is about them. Who knows!

“Tim and Y/N?” We hear Tim’s sister call. We look over and see her standing by the counter with two drinks. Tim and I both get up to get them.

“Thanks, Steph.” He thanks her, grabbing both of our drinks. I pull out my wallet again, and place the twenty that I was going to use earlier to pay, into the tip jar.

“Keep Y/N, Tim. Keep them. They’re perfect.” Steph calls out. Tim hands my drink to me, blushing.

“Shut up!” He yells as we exit the cafè. I laugh.

“Oh shit! I didn’t even ask! Did you want to stay in there or did you want to go to the park now?” He asked. I smiled.

“We can go to the park now if you’d like.” He nodded and opened the car door for me.

“Thanks, Tim.” I told him once he got in. He shot me a toothy grin. We put on our seatbelts and he started the car.

“Anytime! Like I said, I like spending time with you. Making you comfortable is what’s most important to me.” He pulled out of the square. I stared at his hands on the wheel. My eyes trailed to his face. He was biting his lip, and I noticed a small scar on the bottom one.

“What happened to your lip?” I asked him, reaching across to hover my thumb over it. His face flushed and he glanced over to me.

“Some crazy guy on the street. He attacked me, and one of those vigilantes must have been nearby or something, and he saved me.” He explained, putting on the turn signal and turning left. I felt my heart skip a beat.

“Do you know which one it was? That saved you?” I asked. He stayed quiet for a moment.

“The red one. Kind of slim. Black hair. He fights using a long stick.” I smiled. Yep. Of course it would be Red Robin. I sat there smiling to myself, bringing my drink to my lips, but stopped when I had come to a realization.

Black hair. My eyes trailed up to take a look at Tim’s hair. Raven black. A middle part similar to Red’s. My eyebrows furrowed.

My eyes then trailed down to his body. He always wore oversized clothes, but his exterior was definitely not huge. He was a pretty skinny guy. Slim like Red.

And then my eyes trailed back to the scar on his lip. The same place that Red’s lip had been busted at.

And isn’t it so convenient that both Tim’s and Red’s arms had been broken in the same spot? And both of them being the right arm? And in the same week?

My heart started to beat faster, and my eyes widened.

“When did you get attacked?” I finally asked him after a long moment of silence. He was now pulling into the park.

“Uhh like 2 months ago? Yeah, it was kinda bad. What you get for living in Gotham I guess.”

My heart stopped.

I felt ringing in my ears.

Everything around me turned to slow motion, and I just stared at him.

There was no way that nerdy, quiet, billionaire’s son Tim Drake, who had much better things to do with his time and money, would go out at night and defend civilians of Gotham from all the chaos and destruction. There was no way. And how would he keep this secret from his family? They couldn’t of known, right?

But at the same time, it all made sense. All of the injuries that he had had over the years, how he’d sleep during most of his classes, and look exhausted whenever he’d show up at school. How he would act towards me.

The one thing that stumped me was that Red and Tim had two different personalities. Red Robin was mysterious, quick witted, confident, athletic. Tim was quiet, reserved, open, extremely intelligent, anxious, and bashful. There was no way that he was the masked vigilante that came into my bedroom every night. No fucking way!

Or maybe I was just trying to convince myself that.

“Y/N?” Tim’s voice brought me out of my thoughts. I looked over to see my side of the door open, and Tim waiting by it. “Y/N are you coming?” He asked. I nodded.

“Yeah! Yeah! Sorry! Just got lost in my thoughts for a moment. I was thinking about a mystery.” I excused as I grabbed my drink and got out of the car. Tim scoffed amused.

“Are you okay?” He asked as I shut the door behind me. I nodded quickly.

“Yeah- yeah. I’m fine. I’m good. I was just thinking about a notebook. Yeah. The notebook that I kept open on my bed. I hope that my parents don’t read it. They can be kind of nosy.” I added. I waited for Tim as he walked up to me.

“I thought you said you were thinking of a mystery?” He questioned.

I laughed nervously, not looking up at him. I was scared that my hypothesis was correct, and that he was Red Robin. “Yeah. The mystery of whether my parents looked into my notebook.” I say, as I begin walking next to him. I squeezed my drink, feeling the water on the outside of the plastic cup soaking my hand.

“Nah I’ve been there. The amount of times that my siblings have went through my stuff is astonishing. They might be nosier than your parents, and they’ll make fun of me for it!” He chuckled and I felt him look at me. I could feel him examining me. Analyzing for any clue as to what may or may not could have been wrong.

Reading every aspect of me. Something the “worlds second best detective” would do.

“Hey, are you sure you’re okay?” He asked, stopping mid-walk. He lightly grabbed my arm. I stopped too.

Slowly but surely, I looked up at him and into his dark blue eyes. Those blue eyes that I knew all too well. The pupil impossibly dilated, covering most of the iris. The waves of color that were visibly calm in my presence.

This time, unlike the time when we had first kissed, I noticed that we were standing oddly close to one another.

“Have you ever had something happen in your life that changed the course of it forever? And you can’t find an explanation for it, but when you finally do, it just comes at you like a train?” I asked him. The confusion was visible on his face, and he looked in between both of my eyes, possibly unsure of which one to look at.

Or he was trying to find an explanation for my words.

“I… yeah. Yeah I have.” He answers, looking at my lips nervously, before looking back up to my eyes. The triangle method. What a classic.

“Huh..” I said, before closing the space between us, pressing my lips against his. He seems taken aback for a second, before he began to kiss back, wrapping his arms around my waist, bringing me closer.

His kiss was soft, and gentle. It’s intoxicating, passionate, and slow. And once I realize that I have kissed these lips before, I feel faint. I don’t pass out, but my heart races, and my hands become shaky as I drop my drink to the floor, scaring both of us as we pull apart.

“Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry!” He exclaims, looking down at the green and brown coffee in the ground. I could care less about the damn coffee, and instead I’m too busy marveling at the boy in front of me.

“It’s okay. It’s fine. I’m just-” I stare at him in awe. I want to laugh, but I can’t seem to form a coherent sentence. I just stare at him. He stares back after a moment, and a large smile appears on his face.

“Again, this may sound cheesy, but I’ve waited so long to do that.” He exclaims, smiling impossibly bigger, his face a beet red.

I giggle. “Is that so?” I ask him, knowing that he kissed me last night. He nods. “Then it’s a date.” I say as I happily wrap my arms around his left arm, continuing our walk.

He was blushing the whole rest of the “date.”

~~~~~~~

To my surprise, my parents did not go through my notebook, and they had left a little after I did. Lucky me!

But currently. As I did every night, I waited for my injured crusader to pop up at my window. My heart beating with excitement with every moment that passed.

When I was with Tim earlier, I was too astonished to tell him that I knew of his midnight persona, but I was going to tell him when he showed up, which I knew he would. After you spend a day with your crush, and you literally kiss them, how could you not visit them at late hours of the night in a spandex suit? Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do?

At around 9:12, which is pretty early for him, he knocked at my window, and I opened up.

“Hey, stranger.” I greeted sarcastically, a huge smile covering my lips.

“Good evening random civilian. Do you have any clowns in your humble abode?” He asked, as he climbed in through the window. I stepped back, allowing him some space.

“Not that I know of. But I do believe that I have a bird in here.” I stated, tapping my chin. He chuckled.

“I missed you.” He said as he wrapped his arms around me in a hug.

“I missed you too.” I rested my head on his chest, hearing his heart beat. For how calm his breathing was, his heart was pounding at an alarming rate.

I pulled away first. “So…” I trailed off. He chuckled.

“Sooooo?” He repeated. I smiled.

“Your identity.” I reminded him. I wanted to see if he would tell me before I had to do it myself. He shook his head, brushing a hand through my hair.

“You’ll know sooner than you think.” He promised. I shrugged, walking to my closet.

Do I have to do everything on my own?

“Alrighty. What’ll it be this time? Did some crazy guy attack you on the street?” I asked as I reached up to the top shelf. He laughed.

“Some crazy guy always attacks me on the street.” I nod.

“Okay what about accidentally hitting yourself with a car door?” I questioned him, grabbing the First aid kit off the top shelf.

“Y/N,” He laughed. “What are you talking about?” I sigh, playing with the kit in my hand.

“Okay then. Maybe this will jog your memory. What about falling down the stairs at Wayne Enterprises and breaking your arm?” I ask, turning around slowly. The smile on his face falls.

Now he knows that I know.

“Y/N, how did you?” He steps closer to me. “How did you know?” His voice switches to his actual voice, and not the one he uses for Red Robin. I smile softly, continuing to meddle with the kit in my hands.

“I noticed in the car earlier. Your lip has the scar in the same place where you busted it a few months ago. I sort of put the puzzle pieces together after that.” A huge smile appears on his lips.

“So that’s why you said that you were piecing together a mystery. That’s why you asked that question in the park. You had figured out that it was me.” It was his turn to put the pieces together now. I nodded, and his face fell.

“Does that mean you only kissed me to actually tell if I was Red Robin?” He asked. The smile fell off my lips too, and I dropped the kit, walking over to him. I placed my hand on his cheek.

“Can I take this off?” I asked, tapping lightly on the mask. He nodded slowly. Softly, I peeled it off his face, revealing his beautiful blue eyes. The smile returned to my lips.

“Now why would I kiss you and not mean it? At that point, I had already known it was you. I would never kiss just anybody.” I say as I place my lips onto his gently, my hands pressed against his chest. I felt him smile into the kiss.

“I wanted to tell you.” He said once we pulled away. I scoffed.

“Oh I’m sure you did, Mr. “I’ll tell you soon.” I teased. He sighed.

“Believe me, I did! It’s just that you kissed Red Robin not knowing Tim Drake. I wanted you to get to know me so that you’d fall in love with me, not whatever this is.” He gestured to his outfit. I pressed my forehead against his.

“This may sound cheesy, but I’d fall in love with any version of you.” I whispered onto his lips.

He let out an amused sound. “I’m happy that you know now.” He mumbled, his lips rubbing against mine. I pecked them lightly before leading him over to the bed, sitting us down.

“I have so many questions for you.” I informed him, holding his hands in mine, and looking straight into his eyes with excitement.

“Ill answer anything you throw at me.” He squeezed my hands 3 times, and I smirked.

“You’ll be here for a while, then.”

“We’ll call it a date.”

[toyybox]

Spiderwebs #27: Proof

Masterlist

content: immortal whumpee, captivity, starvation, gore, organ stuff, self-injury

• —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Heather dreaded the end of the three months, and it was not entirely an irrational fear. Jackie was capable of killing her. She had chainsaws and scalpels, but what were blades in the face of an immortal? What were weapons in the shadow of an undying rage? Maybe that was a ridiculous thought, but it seemed a very real threat to her. He probably hated her even more now. Heather would too, if she was in his place.

The days passed. The final week arrived. Monday. Tuesday. Wednesday. She became so anxious at work that she threw up in the bathroom. Thursday. Friday. She considered leaving him locked in there forever, just so she never had to confront him. Saturday. And finally, Sunday.

Sunday morning was too cheery for such heavy work, so she waited until Sunday evening. Sunday was the Lord’s day. That didn’t mean anything to her anymore, but it was a memory that kept running in her mind. In any case, she had made her decision. She was going down there. Heather wasn’t that cruel, as to completely abandon him, and she wasn’t a monster. She had to check up on him eventually. 

She wasn’t going unarmed, that was for sure. The scalpel and the pistol were secured in her bookbag, and then she set off. She found the basement door across the hallway. Right where it always was. She moved the table from where it stood guard, pushed it aside. But she hesitated before turning the lock.

One, two, three heartbeats. Then her hand darted out to the doorknob. She twisted the lock until it clicked open.

Nothing happened. There was nothing but silence. She was still alive, still breathing. Her colleagues never saw the bruise on her neck—she covered it over with makeup—and it faded away over the months. But the memory was still there, the pressure on her throat.

Heather swallowed her tension, then entered the doorway. The lights were off. This wasn’t helping things, but she persevered. She closed the door behind her, then turned on the lights. She walked down the stairs.

She reached the last step. The room was a mess. Furniture toppled everywhere, items strewn about in furious abandon, the smell of dust clouding over them. The light was so dim as to cast the room into a yellowish, dull tint. A place more fit for slaughtering pigs than living in.

She looked up, let her sight adjust. She almost flinched. 

Jackie was staring straight at her. He was sitting on the bed, across the room. 

He looked different. Different in a bad way. He’d gotten much thinner, first of all, hollowed at the edges like a stray dog. His hair was matted and longer than it had been before. His eyes seemed strained, and the shadows underneath them were heavy.

He blinked, as if he couldn’t quite believe she was real. He did not say anything.

Three months. Heather was starting to realize what she had done. They reserved solitary confinement for the worst of the worst. Even then, they fed their prisoners. Three months was a long time. 

“Jackie?” she called out. “It’s me.”

He blinked again.

She stepped forward, cautiously, treading slowly so as not to startle him. He watched her all the while, with that feral sort of stare. There was an insubstantial aura to him, like he’d flicker or fade away if she wasn’t careful, if she wasn’t watching closely enough. She held her hand out, aiming to put it on his shoulder.

To her great bewilderment, he stood up to face her. “You win.”

She froze. “What?”

“You win, I said. I give up. You can do whatever you want with me. You—” His calm voice began to crack, took on a tilt. “I can’t live like this. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’ll never do anything like that ever again. I missed you, I—”

“You… missed me?” Surely, she’d heard him wrong. Or he really had lost his marbles.

He continued to speak, eyes wet and shining all the while. “I missed you so much. I—I love you, Heather. Don’t ever leave me again. Please.”

Well, this was certainly… new. This was different. All the way from murderous hatred to… love. But that was ridiculous. That was…

“What do you mean, you love me?” She furrowed her brows. “Are you being serious?”

“Yes, completely.” He nodded, desperately, like his life depended on her believing him. Perhaps it did. “I love you.”

It was the way he kept repeating it, the strain in his voice. This wasn't right, but she didn't want him to stop. It overflowed from his mouth like honey. And he sounded so eager, so fervent.

He grabbed her sleeve, tightly. “Don’t go.”

“I won’t.” This was quite a pleasant surprise to walk in on. Even if he was lying, she couldn’t bring herself to look away.

His expression was earnest, in any case. He was staring into her eyes like she was an angel. Her fear was gone entirely. She had nothing to be afraid of. Everything had worked out perfectly. It was too good.

He stared at her, waiting. 

She slapped him, hard. Hard enough that his head was pushed back. Hard enough to make him flinch. He cowered under her gaze. But he didn’t move, didn’t say anything. 

She leaned in closer. Her lips almost brushed the shell of his ear. “You’re pathetic.”

He didn’t reply, still didn’t move, although his breathing had become shallow and hitching. His gaze had gone somewhere else, somewhere distant.

“You’re not going to hit me back, are you?” she asked softly. 

He shook his head.

“Good. Do you still love me?”

He nodded. It was disgusting, the look on his face. He would roll over and fetch if she asked him to.

“Prove it.”

“What do you want?” He fixed on her, again, that earnest expression. “I’ll do anything.”

Silently, she handed him the scalpel from her book bag. She pushed his hand forward, pressing the blade gently to his sweater, just slightly to the left. Still guiding his movements, she helped him trace two curves over the fabric, perfectly mirrored, creating a single shape—the lover’s symbol, sweet in its simplicity. She let go and waited for his reply.

He understood. He knew her well enough. Jackie steadied the scalpel, grasping it until his knuckles were straining under the skin. He aimed it above his chest. 

With a sharp jerk, he plunged it into himself. He began to dig out his own heart. 

It took an uncomfortably long time—that is, uncomfortable for anyone else. Heather was loving every second of this. The blade went in, dragging through flesh and cotton, then ripped out, over and over. He was not as precise as Heather. Didn’t have a surgeon’s careful hand. The surrounding skin and flesh was torn and rendered into jagged edges. His ribs cracked, his blade squelched. Blood dripped down onto the concrete, onto his lovely checkerboard sweater. His eyes went unfocused. Even with his sallowed skin and hollowed bones, he was very pretty. He winced, but he never stopped. Jackie coughed, and more blood trickled out his mouth. 

By the time he’d severed an artery, his motions grew lethargic. His blood dripped thick, nearly the consistency of jam. His heart wasn’t healing as quickly as it usually did. The wound was dark, festering in his chest.

Heather took his hand and, with gentle motions, helped him cut out the rest of the organ. The arteries, the veins, the remaining tissues. She snapped ribs away where necessary, letting them drop to the floor. His bones were surprisingly brittle. They cracked like twigs, while his pulse slowed and smeared on her skin. 

It was a marvel of muscle and nerves, even though she had seen it many times before. Light broke apart and glittered on its surface. It lay heavy in his hands, warm and still weakly beating. 

He handed it to her with another rasping cough. Blood slicked both of their palms. His eyes fluttered, but snapped open before they could close.

She took it, felt the warm flesh press against her hand, felt it convulse in erratic rhythms. “Oh, good boy. Thank you. It’s perfect.”

Jackie was completely out of it. He may not have heard her praise at all. He blinked at her once more, then placed a steadying hand on her arm, swaying on his feet all the while. Before Heather could react, he fainted. 

She did not catch him in time. He lay there, sprawled on the ground. All bones and blood. There was a gaping hole in his sweater, and dark red was splattered all over his cracked lips. 

She knelt down to pick him up. His head lolled to one side, and his limbs went limp in her grasp. She could not feel a pulse. Anyone else would have thought he was dead, but Heather knew he would wake up soon.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Wow, love really does fix everything :)

Taglist:

@theelvishcowgirl

@lthrboy

@whumpy-wyrms

@yassifiedinformation

[iamvegorott]

Ink Month 2024 Day 3

Park Bench - Noist

Night was a prideful man. Everyone knew this. He had pride in his title and pride in his abilities. But he had the most pride in his time and care when it came to his loved one. He was more than willing to go out of his way to ensure the safety and happiness of his boyfriend. Host’s joy was Night’s greatest source of pride nowadays. 

At the current moment, Night and Host appeared in their favorite park during their favorite season. Fall was the best time for the two. It didn’t get too cold, nor did it get too hot, and the wildlife was active, preparing for the long winter so one could find more critters out and about. 

Host looped his arm through Night’s, hand holding his upper arm and their shoulders brushing as they began their stroll. Passing through the archway of trees that went down the entire pathway, a loop through the whole park that people would use for their jogs or walks. Mad had measured the length before and let everyone know his results. And while Host could recall what it was, Night never bothered to remember it since all he needed to know was that it took thirty minutes to walk the whole thing. That was thirty uninterrupted minutes with Host because no one would dare try to get a hold of them during their strolls. 

Except for Mad.

But Host enjoyed Mad’s company and didn’t annoy Night much. So, Mad would walk with them on rare occasions. 

Right now, though, it was just Night and the love of his life.

“The leaves look so lovely this time of year.” Night hummed his comment, eyes glancing at the trees and then to Host, an even lovelier sight. 

“That they do.” Host agreed. 

“Might I ask you something, my owl?” 

“Of course.”

“What do you see right now?” Night knew Host understood the meaning of the question. It was not meant in a literal ‘eye-seeing’ way, but with Host’s abilities and how he’d adjust for either comfort or energy level—going from seeing everything beyond what eyes could process to just allowing himself to be blind. The majority of the time, Host liked relying on everything except his sight but would use enough of his powers to be aware of their surroundings.  

“I feel and taste more than I can see.” Host began explaining, using that naturally soothing voice of his that Night could spend an eternity listening to. 

“Taste?”

“The air tastes of fall. The subtle coolness, the wetness of fallen leaves left on the grass from the morning dew that’s yet to evaporate. You can also feel that soft breeze and hear the rustling and crunch of the leaves on the path we are stepping on.” 

“We take for granted our other senses, don’t we?” Night placed his other hand on top of Host’s.

“We take for granted many things in our lives. But as time goes on, we learn to enjoy the little things life has to offer. 

“That we do.” Host chuckled, and then he suddenly paused.

“What is it?”

“The others are here.” 

“They’re what?” Night started looking around, tensing up.

“Calm down, Your Highness.” Host tugged on Night’s arm, guiding him where to look. “They’re here playing a game, not to interrupt us.” 

“Oh.” Night clicked his tongue a bit when he saw the other Egos out in the middle of the large field. 

“Maybe we could extend our stroll and sit on the bench, watch them have their fun.” Host tugged on Night’s arm again, showing that it wasn’t really a suggestion but that it was what he was going to do. 

“We’re not beating the grandparents' allegations.” Night chuckled, walking to the bench and sitting on it with Host. 

“Not my fault you act like a grumpy old man.” Host rested his head on Night’s shoulder. 

“I do not.” Night rolled his eyes with a light smile. 

“I thought we were playing football,” Jackie asked with a tilt to his head, seeing the white and black ball in Marvin’s hands. 

“We are playing football,” Marvin confirmed. 

“That’s a soccer ball.”

“No, it’s a football.” 

“So…if we’re playing football then I can-” Jackie bent over enough to throw Marvin over his shoulder, and he started running. 

“Jackieboyman, put me down!” Marvin demanded. “Chase Brody! Stop laughing and help me!” 

“Me next, me next!” Anti called out with his own laughs. 

“Can I sit with you guys?” Mad asked as he neared the bench. 

“Of course.” Host answered, moving to be even closer to Night and leaving space for Mad to sit and open his book. 

“Now we’re definitely not going to be able to deny being the grandparents.” Night sighed. 

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” Host moved Night’s arm so they could hold hands. 

“Only if I don’t get to have you by my side.” Night kissed Host’s temple. 

“Jackie! Put him down!” Dark snapped while Jackie continued running with Marvin, but he now had Anti on his other shoulder.

“Never!” Jackie laughed. 

[mint-yooxgi]

Hi Jackie! I wanted to reach out as a fellow writer on the plagiarism conversation. First, I’d like to ask you if you would be comfortable with me reblogging your lengthy post on plagiarism and adding my thoughts as an author who has been plagiarized. I do not want to take your post and lend my thoughts to it if you feel that it wouldn’t be productive or if you’d be uncomfortable with it, but just know that I support everything that you said. I’ve been keeping pretty quiet about my own experiences as well, but you’ve done the hard thing of speaking up and I think it’s very valuable.

Secondly, I just want to say I’m sorry you’re going through this. I know how much time and energy it takes to write anything let alone a lengthy series that people are invested in, messaging you their thoughts and opinions, etc. While Into the Aurora is not an ‘original’ fan fiction idea in the sense that plenty of fics like this exist where the self insert character starts living with the group or person of interest, the rest of that story is original. I have seen several multi-chapter fics or even one-shots that “borrow” huge plot points from my fic down to the same types of interactions with the boys just like you saw with HC. At the time I moved on from it, mostly because those fics weren’t getting much traction and I didn’t want to start this huge conversation, but it hurts and I only tell you this so you know you’re not alone in feeling this way. It takes hours, weeks, months, etc. to put these stories together and to share them for free and to see others take “inspiration” from your work is lovely… but to see them steal it is something else entirely.

With respect to Inherited Demons, when I started reading that work I immediately got plagiarism alarm bells, but because I saw their credits and tags behind the inspiration I thought you had sanctioned it. I wish I had reached out to you sooner, because I remember lining up plot points, chapters, dialogue, etc. and being floored by how similar major sections were. It was exactly what happened with me and one particular fic I wont name, but I thought you were either okay with it or keeping it to yourself so I didn’t reach out.

What I hope you don’t mind me saying is that you shouldn’t feel bad that you were okay with this writer taking inspiration or deriving some things from your work. Very clearly this writer took advantage of that kindness whether they realize it or not, and that is not okay, and certainly not your fault. I’ve had similar experiences and I’m a pretty non-confrontational person…. but reading your post put into perspective just how important boundaries for writers are, even when that work is fanfic and even when that work is being shared for free. I appreciate your writing and the effort you put into these stories so much, you’re so gifted in crafting fantasy works. That type of writing is incredibly hard and I’m in awe of any writer who can do it well, which you absolutely do. I hope you can continue to feel comfortable writing and sharing your work with the community, and I know this message was a little rambling…. but it’s all to say from one fic writer to another, your post meant something to me and I appreciate you.

Hello!!! Oh my goodness, thank you so much for reaching out, this message really means a lot to me. Especially during this time!!

Please!! Be my guest for reblogging and adding your own comments/experiences if you’d like!! It make the post that much more real and important in my opinion that way! I would love nothing more!!

I’m sorry you’ve been through similar experiences as well. It’s never fun to see fics that take your own ideas and credit them as their own. It’s even worse when you’re reading something and you catch onto it - for me, personally, it just makes my mood plummet and my entire heart ache. It takes the fun out of creating because you don’t know what that person or people will take next.

I’m similar in being as unconfrontational as I can - which is why I said I was okay with it in the first place, I didn’t want to start drama and it seemed innocent enough at the time. I see now I was fooled. Bamboozled, if you will.

Yeah, getting through a lot of those chapters even to find more plagiarized incidents was rough. It just drained me each time because it was just a case of “oh goodness, what will I find this time?” It just grates on you and I had just finally had enough.

I also really appreciate you saying this, about being able to be okay at the start but change my mind. I really wasn’t okay with it, but for sake of peace and to avoid the drama of confrontation, I let it slide.

I’m so sorry to hear that you’ve also gone through similar situations. It’s never a joyous moment or feeling when it happens. To me, it’s just so disrespectful and I feel cheated in a way. Boundaries are so important, especially as a writer and I just wish I stood up for mine better at times.

Again, thank you so much for your message and such kind and supportive words!! I felt better after reading this, and I really do appreciate you and your writing as well!! Thank you for reaching out and sharing your thoughts!! ❤️❤️

[inkribbon796]

Egotober 2022 Day 20: Red Flags

Summary: Anti finds himself in a bit of trouble, and somehow gets himself even bigger trouble.

Prompt: Alarm

Characters: Anti, Wilford, Dark

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31

Alarms were shrieking and blaring as Anti rushed from socket to socket. Whatever electrical currents were closer he jumped to immediately. He could feel it stalking him. Because he didn’t have the time to think about where he was going. He needed out, he needed to escape and fast.

Anti  was trying to find a way out of the hellhole he’d currently found himself in. Henrik was safe. As “safe” as he could be. But Anti had to escape and think about a plan of revenge.

He just had to—

Anti jumped into some random circuit when suddenly he heard another ringing going on. Someone was getting a call and he was in the circuit. So he instantly let it take him away from the situation.

The glitch demon would be back for blood. He would be back for Henrik. And he would never forget what had happened.

“Hello? Hell~o?” A familiar voice drawled out just as Anti flew out of the phone and right into Wilford, knocking them both to the ground. Anti was on top of Wilford and so elated he almost decked the guy on pure adrenaline alone.

“You fucker, you’re the best,” Anti told him.

Wilford smiled. “I always try my best.”

“Wil, who called?” Dark called out from outside the room and Anti realized that he was with Wilford in Dark’s home office. Alone . . . with Wilford underneath him.

Before Anti could jump off Wilford or even just turn into pixels, Dark walked in and froze when he saw them.

Dark’s ringing became shrill, reminding him of the alarm he’d just escaped from.

Anti violently turned into a staticky cloud of pixels before reforming next to Dark. “Make my tinnitus I got from Jackie worse, why don’t you?”

Dark glared at him, glancing between him and Wil. Anti braced to get hit, anger had caused him to get too close to Dark. The demon was known to strike quickly and violently. He was well known to be jealous and foul tempered and Anti could see the rage in his eyes.

“Have I interrupted something?” Dark asked, clearly a bait as Anti moved past him and into the living room. Through the window he spotted Chase Brody who was smoking out back and immediately looked right at Anti.

“Nah, you didn’t interrupt shit, was fucking busy escaping from the feds,” Anti said as he began looking for a way out. He needed to get back to his little hideout and lay low and then think of something.

Dark’s ringing was shrill and even if Dark was in any kind of mood to help him, he’d botched it with Wil in the office.

“Can’t Anti stay, ol’ boy?” Wilford leaned against the door frame of the office with a huge smile on his face. “He’s so much fun.” 

Which immediately made Anti want to kill Wilford.

Dark took in a rather angry breath, loudly taking in air through his nose and Anti felt Dark’s aura angrily coil around one of his ankles. A clear threat.

Anti knew Dark absolutely detested him. Sometimes he put up with Anti stabbing him. Sometimes Dark put up with the shit he pulled. But never when the guy was clearly in a bad mood. And when Dark discorporated him he lost entire weeks.

Weeks that Anti didn’t have right now. So for once, even though Anti wanted to punch him in the face, he needed to get out.

Then Chase walked into the room, one of his guns in hand.

“I’m gone, I got better things to do,” Anti said, turning into pixels and shooting through the lightswitch and onto the porch.

Dark followed after him, teleporting in. “Why the rush, glitch?”

“Like I said, got shit to do, people to kill,” Anti said, trying to get away from memories of the alarm sound. “I just got in through your landline, you old fuck.”

“Why the rush?” Dark said with contempt in his voice. “You were clearly enjoying yourself.”

“I wasn’t enjoying shit, just your electric bill,” Anti said angrily, he was trying to make it down the steps of the porch but his feet seemed to be moving in some cycle. Meaning he was stuck in the Manor’s grasp and he might not be able to easily slip out.

And Chase was following them out to the porch.

“You two are never very subtle, why become so evasive now?” Dark said, taking a step forward. And the stone steps refused to let Anti go. The ringing shrill and setting off all kinds of alarms in Anti’s brain.

“I ain’t being anything, you might be comfortable fucking that piece of sentient cotton candy, but I don’t wanna catch whatever weird STDs that fucker has.” Anti said.

“How dare you!” That seemed to get Dark angrier. “Shut up, you can fuck him, but not insult.”

“I ain’t fucking your man,” Anti said. “I’m fucking Henrik.”

“Then you’re doing both,” Dark said dismissively. “Right where his children can see you.”

“Fuck you,” Anti said. “If I wanted to fuck Wil I’d do it in front of you, because pissing you off would be the only reason I’d do it.”

The first one to strike first was actually Chase. The marksman shot at Anti, hitting him in the leg. Anti struck at Dark, their aura crashing before Anti was able to slip out of whatever hold that the Manor had over him.

Anti jumped into a nearby powerline under the ground and moved deeper into the city. He was away from Dark and could get back to Henrik’s apartment. He crashed there for a bit.

The glitch demon would lick his wounds and have his revenge. Tonight he needed to sleep, and he didn’t do it in the apartment. He did it in the apartment complex’s power grid.

Tomorrow, maybe the alarm sound wouldn’t be echoing in his ears as fiercely.

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

Post A/N: After so long of trying to get Dark to even hint about his problems, and it’s to Anti of all people. He might be getting therapy in the next arc.

[eunoiaflow3r]

i hate u, i love u // spencer reid x fem!reader

spencer reid x reader

aaron hotchner x reader

part one - part two

a/n: did i damn near put this entire song in this fic? yes, yes i did i’m so sorry....highly unedited.

how was your guys’ holiday?

warning(s): language. angst. fluff....

word count: 2.6k

request(ed): yes.

summary: old things try to get fixed, while new feelings and places...arise and get mixed.

(wtf am i dr. seuss now??)

——————————————&———————————

feeling used, but i’m still missing you. and i can’t see the end of this, just wanna feel your kiss, against my lips

and now all this time, is passing by.... but i can’t seem to tell you why. it hurts me every time i see you realize how much i need you...

Seeing Spencer and actually letting all of that out did a number on you. You apologized to Aaron countless times and he said it was okay countless times but you still felt so bad. He didn’t deserve that. He didn’t deserve your drama, and not to mention how embarrassing it’s been. You felt like you ruined his whole night. It was supposed to be fun and yet you didn’t have any. He said he did but you know Hotch didn’t.

You’d have to make it up to him somehow soon but you didn’t know how. How are you supposed to fix this? Any of this??

It feels like you’re being sucked into the eye of a tornado little by little and you just can’t get out. It feels like everyone else is safe on the ground feet planted and they’re all just staring at you and laughing. Staring and not helping.

Your chest hurt. You hated feeling like this. So helpless...and stuck. You were stuck and not ready to fix it...well...part of it. You could still fix one thing. You didn’t have to be stuck here. Here in this small apartment with no room for anything let alone breathe. You needed space. You needed change. You needed control. Everything is spinning in circles and there’s nothing you can do about it. You can’t stop it.

So why not do something that could help you? That you’ve been meaning to do but never had the time for?

Apartment searching. Well...bigger apartment searching.

Where you were staying now was a studio apartment. You loved the open concept except for how small it was. You just need room.

Before...

“I like it here. It’s so small and cute.”

You could tell cute was a foreign word to Spencer when it came to describing a building. But he was trying. You thought he was cute.

“Thanks Spencer but I’m thinking something different. Maybe another bedroom for a roommate...or just a bigger one for y’know...another person.”

You never really brought up the idea of moving in together before. Sure, it’d be easier...his job was nearby, and there was a bus stop at the end of the street, and there was you....so his reaction kind of put you...off.

“Roommate sounds good. One of your friends maybe? Although I wouldn’t want her to y’know...interrupt us.” He had that cute seductive tone to his voice but he wasn’t sounding very cute and seductive.

You weren’t going to argue. “Yeah...a roommate. Who do you think I should ask?” you paused. “Sara or Malia?”

Spencer was quiet for a moment, like he was thinking. “Malia maybe?”

You didn’t have a friend named Malia.

And that’s what hurt the most you think. The fact that you still thought about him 24/7 even though what you had with him wasn’t perfect. You thought it was before..you thought he was before..but now you’re realizing nothing about it was perfect but at least it was something. Now you have nothing.

It was only the afternoon so you decided to look for some places. You found 3 places suitable for what you were looking for. All 3 were good sizes, good prices, and a good amount away from your job and college. You felt almost lucky. This felt almost too easy.

Until you saw the first two places in person. They were okay, but not really what you were looking for.

The last place though...the place was great, the location was great, the neighborhood was great, hell even the yard. Hell, you’d have no use for it, you didn’t have a kid but it was still a nice looking yard. You could tell that someone in the apartment, hopefully your new neighbor, took great care of the gardens.

You looked around at the surrounding mix of apartments and houses (mostly houses) and saw 2 little kids playing in the house 2 houses over. One of them looked like Jack. It couldn’t be, right? Hotch’s house wasn’t over here.

Nevertheless you watched for a few seconds and it was Jack. You decided to go over and say hi.

Jack stopped playing and immediately ran towards you.

“Y/N!!” He grinned. You got down to his level and hugged him back just as enthusiastically.

“Hey Jackie! Whatcha doin?” He only let you call him that. Only you.

“Sleepover. This is Sam. It’s almost time for Ana to drop me off at home though.”

You said hi to Sam and asked if Ana was his mom. She was and as soon as you told Sam your name, Ana came out of the house and waved you over.

“Hey, I’m Y/N. Friend of Jack’s and Hotch.”

She smiled. And shook your hand.

“I’m Ana. I’ve heard about you! Jack talks about you quite a lot.”

You and Ana talked for a while. She seemed like a really amazing person. If you end up getting the place you could see you and her becoming great friends, and since she seemed really busy you offered to take Jack home. She protested but you insisted. It wasn’t like you were doing much anyway. The landlord had already left and you were just going to go home anyway.

On the way to Hotch’s you bought Jack his favorite ice cream. You couldn’t help it.

The whole car ride Jack’s conversation thankfully distracted you but when you got to his house you couldn’t help but remember that night and how embarrassed you felt.

Seeing Hotch only made it worse. Especially since he wasn’t wearing his work clothes- just a shirt and sweatpants, and you couldn’t help but look because he looked incredibly.....good. He looked so great and you were so mad at yourself for how that night ended with him. You were supposed to be having fun and neither of you did.

He hugged you when you got to the door anyway. You explained to him what happened- even the apartment searching while he invited you in for coffee.

A whole year with Spence and he never invited you in. Ever.

Do you miss me like I miss you? Fucked around and got attached to you Friends can break your heart too And I’m always tired but never of you

If I pulled a you on you, you wouldn’t like that shit I put this reel out, but you wouldn’t bite that shit I type a text but then I never mind that shit I got these feelings but you never mind that shit

“Mom, please, I’m fine. Nothing’s wrong.”

Your mom gave you a look over her mug that said, ‘Do I look like I’m dumb?’ And she wasn’t. Perhaps you weren’t any good at hiding your feelings. Could everyone tell?

You were doing better now.

It’s been a month? Maybe two.

Either way it’s been a while and you weren’t as hurt as you were before. Some nights you woke up heart aching, tears falling, but you aren’t as bad as you were those first few weeks.

Truth is, you missed Spencer. You spent those weeks blaming yourself and wondering why you why you?

But you accepted that you weren’t ready for that answer. A part of you had forgiven Spencer. A part.

You were still heartbroken. You were still angry and hurt. But you’ve been trying to move on. In fact, you’d be moving entirely. Yesterday you finished all the paperwork with your new landlord. You were going to finish packing after visiting your mom.

“Momma I’m fine there’s just a lot going on right now.”

She wouldn’t accept that answer. She persisted you told her what was wrong. So you did. You told her about Spencer...and about Hotch...

Aaron.

You had been spending some weekends with him. Some were alone, just the two of you, and other times it was the three of you. Him, Jack, and you. Whenever you thought about Hotch you had the feeling in your stomach you got whenever you heard from Spencer.

But you still have that feeling for Spencer.

Things were so confusing right now - you weren’t sure if you wanted to move on from Spencer. You didn’t want to rush in with Aaron either though. That’d hurt the both of you.

Last weekend...

“Y/N you cannot tell me you think New Girl is better than Friends.”

Aaron was in a gray shirt and sweatpants while you were in relatively the same. You both sat together on his couch each a cup of coffee in your hands. You had promised you’d help him shop with Jack for new clothes and you had just agreed to stay the night since it had gotten so late.

“Oh a hundred percent. New Girl is way better.”

Hotch laughed.

“Friends is a classic. There wouldn’t be a New Girl without Friends.”

“There wouldn’t be a Friends without Living Single Aaron.”

He rolled his eyes but conceded. “True but still. Friends is better.”

You hadn’t been that happy in a while. You were breathing...you were living. Out in the open. Unbidden.

You ever wonder what we could have been? You said you wouldn’t and you fucking did Lie to me, lie with me, get your fucking fix Now all my drinks and all my feelings are fucking mixed

Always missing people that I shouldn’t be missing Sometimes you gotta burn some bridges just to create some distance I know that I control my thoughts and I should stop reminiscing But I learned from my dad that it’s good to have feelings

There was a bottle of liquor in your hand

You would have gone to the bar but you were too sad for it. You didn’t have the will.

Earlier today you decided that you should get a muffin from the coffee shop and see how Em was doing. Right when you got to the door, who was in the window caught your eye.

Spencer.

Spencer and JJ.

Laughing, and eating, and kissing...

In the open. Out in public.

Were you just not good enough? Was that it? Could you not understand him because you didn’t work in the BAU? Was what you had all one sided?

Unanswered questions and half a bottle later you were passed out on your couch crying.

You thought you were over it for sure this time. But it still fucking hurts. Is keeping your heart open waiting for him even worth it?

The next morning you took a hot shower. The hottest shower you could handle. You were hungover, and you felt like shit but you still had to pack the rest of your things to move. You still had to move.

Your speakers were on the highest level and your music was so loud you didn’t hear the door knock. You only screamed when you felt someone behind you.

It was Aaron.

“Jesus christ!!” You went to turn down the music.

“You could have killed me!”

“Yes I very well could have!” His arms were crossed. He was upset but still in a playful mood. You could tell. “I could have been a serial killer, you have to lock your doors!”

You rolled your eyes. “Okay, okay, I’ll lock my doors next time.”

He nodded approval as you went to the refrigerator to get him a bottle of water.

“What’s going on?”

“Oh I didn’t tell you?” How had that slipped your mind?

He shook his head.

“I’m moving.”

“You’re moving?” He looked disappointed.

“Yeah not far. A few houses down from Ana actually.”

“Oh good.” He said relieved.”

After that, he decided he wanted to help you. It was nice not being alone even though you told him he didn’t have to stay. He wanted to.

He even helped you transfer the boxes to your new apartment. You didn’t know Aaron had a voice on him...but he did.

“We built this city!” he sang/shouted.

“We built this city on rock and -“

“We built this city!” he answered.

“We built this city on rock and -“

“Rollllllllll” you sang together.

You giggled when the song was over and he grabbed your hand for the rest of the drive. You didn’t pull away. It felt too nice. It felt too right.

After helping you put your boxes into your next place it was time for him to head home. He told you that he could stay and help some more if you wanted but you could tell he was tired. You were tired. You told him you’d call if you needed any more help.

He made you promise you would because he knows you won’t if you feel like you absolutely can do it yourself even when you shouldn’t.

You promised.

On his way out there was a moment where you could have kissed him. Where you were saying goodbye and you were in the doorway and you were close enough to...but you didn’t. You weren’t ready. He knew you weren’t ready. He knew.

The feelings you have for Hotch keep growing but the feelings you have for Spencer stay the same. Spencer used to be your everything. But you weren’t his. You needed someone who would put you first. Well...close to first. Jack should always come first. Always.

You need to come first when it comes to women. Spencer didn’t put you first. Would he ever?

All alone I watch you watch her Like she’s the only girl you’ve ever seen You don’t care you never did You don’t give a damn about me

Yeah, all alone I watch you watch her She is the only thing you ever see How is it you never notice That you are slowly killing me?

Your phones ringtone was blaring and when you opened your tired eyes to read the time on your bedside table it read ‘3 AM.’ Who would call this late? Or...early? Either way you didn’t check the screen and just decided to click green and put the phone to your ear.

“Hello?” Your voice was groggy and you were a little annoyed to be woken up so early. It’s rude to do that to someone. Especially someone who only went to bed three hours ago.

“Y/N.” It wasn’t a question and it wasn’t in command. It was a sigh of relief followed by sniffles and a hiccup. It was Spencer.

“I didn’t think you’d pick up.” he said.

“You’re lucky I didn’t check my screen I should just -“

The only form of communication you’ve had with him since the incident was a few texts. Dry texts. On both ends.

“No!” he panicked. “Please don’t hang up please, please, I - I couldn’t sleep.”

You shut your eyes in frustration. “You called me at three in the morning because you couldn’t sleep?”

“No, I - I’m apologizing because I couldn’t sleep, no I - I’m apologizing because I was - I don’t know -“

“Spencer I really don’t have time for this. I have things to do tomorrow. What’s today Tuesday? We’ll have coffee or something Friday, okay?”

There was silence on the other end for a few seconds. “I have a date, no I mean plans Friday..uhm, Sunday?”

“Sunday.”

And you hung up the phone. You didn’t mean to sound bitter, you didn’t but seriously? You were actually willing to see him for once - maybe a decision your unconscious, pining, mind made - but still, and he can’t because of a date? A date?

With JJ no doubt. Of course it was JJ. It’s always been JJ. Every single time. “I can’t today Y/N JJ needs,” or “JJ called I gotta go,” or “Shoot I’m sorry I know we had plans but JJ -“

Will it always be JJ? Will she always be number one? Has she always been number one and you just never realized it? Have you been the girl he just hung out with because he couldn’t with her?

A few months ago...

“I bought chinese.” You grinned.

“Smells so good.” Spencer took the bags from your hands and kissed you on the cheek.

Spencer picked the movie this time since you picked it last time. He was sitting in the middle of the couch while you had your legs draped across his. Occasionally he’d bring his hand down to rub your legs.

Things were fine. Things were content. Until his phone rang.

“Y/N, It’s JJ I have to go.”

“What does she need?” you ask genuinely worried.

“Nothing I don’t think. I just gotta go.”

I hate you, I love you I hate that I love you You want her, you need her And I’ll never be her

———————————-—&—————————————-

i literally have no idea what this is i -

team hotch or spence?

if you have any ideas or scene ideas PLEASE tell me

i’m really trying on this happy ending thing

a spencer apology/talk scene is cominggg

i’m liking the idea of two endings? maybe?

spencer tag list: @hotchsbabygirl @pinkdiamond1016 @thefemalestorywriter @sizzlingclamturtlesludge @samyilf123 @mathchampagne @studywithrosie01 @reniescarlett @drreidsconverse @eveliiinnn27 @bweakmybonez

comments tag list: @yeah-just-ignore-me-thanks @geekgirleve @jhiddles03 @carlgrxmes @dreatine @meowiemari @thedaughterofhotchniss @we-are-dreamers42 @unabashedlyswimmingtimemachine @silverchains9182 @realalpacorn @enamouravecleslivresetlechocolat @matthew-gray-g @minami97 @mgg-th1996 @peculiarinsomniac @secondratecomplaint @fallinallinmendes @fantastic-fans @eldahae @psych0crybaby @tclaerh @ashwarren32 @spenciegoob @mustbeaweasleyginger @abschaffer2

[the-pale-goddess]

Ethan & Tiffany: Endgame (HC)

A quick reminder: I've rejected canon Third Year completely, so mind that none of OHTY bs happens in my E&T canon timeline.

A/N: I tried my best to write every major fact down - hopefully the final product isn’t too messy or too boring, I’m new to the headcanon business and this isn’t even written in the headcanon form because I’m a rebel lol

Huge thanks to the lovely Anon who requested this HC and every single one of you still interested in E&T’s shenanigans, your support is the greatest gift I could ever receive! If you have some more specific questions about these two, feel free to hit my askbox anytime 💕

Now let’s check what’s in store for Tiffany and Ethan!

Children

Neither of them planned children in their lives; they were perfectly comfortable in the relationship they had—living together, advancing their glittering careers while supporting each other, slaying the game as the ultimate power couple.

But life has its ways, of course, and a week prior to their third anniversary Tiffany found out she was pregnant. The news sparked blind panic in the 30-year-old doctor; she thought her whole world fell like dominoes. Tiffany wouldn't intentionally start a family: she'd just started turning her dreams and plans into reality and she didn't even consider herself fit to be a mother (even though deep down she craved it).

She'd spent an entire week full of doubts, listing all her options, before she finally shared the news with Ethan. His reaction was surprisingly calm, considering his stance on having children. Based on the evidence gathered throughout the week, he'd already suspected pregnancy and did some calculations on his own.

They both agreed it wasn’t the best time—their busy schedules didn’t allow them to even reconsider the concept of starting a family. Nevertheless, the baby was coming, and their hearts filled with strange excitement. Having a baby on board seemed surreal at first, but after the dust had settled they felt oddly content about the unforseen circumstances.

E&T's world turned upside down the second their son was born. Raising a child happened to be the greatest challenge these two brilliant doctors had encountered. Luckily, they both relish a good challenge. Guided by the unexpected overflow of affection, they quickly settled into the alien routine of parenthood.

Nathaniel Jonah (also known as NJ, Nate) turned out to be a perfect blend of his parents' most prominent features & traits: Ethan's ocean eyes and stubbornness mixed with Tiffany's smile and warm heart.

Three years later, another surprise awaited. The most shocking thing about the second pregnancy was that it didn't happen sooner (they'd been exceptionally careless). Nicolette „Letty”, a spitting image of her mother, stole Ethan's heart from the start, bringing even more joy to their controlled chaos.

The fancy condo was too small for a family of four, so The Ramdams were forced to find a new home. They moved to a dreamy house in the Boston suburbs merely a month before their daughter was born.

The third one (for a change) received a proper invitation to this world. Tiffany wasn't the biggest fan of the idea of having another baby, but her window was closing (she was 38) and Ethan's palpable excitement tipped the scales. Everyone jokes Aine must be adopted because she's the most unproblematic angel, unlike her parents.

The family wouldn't be full without pets: Nettie (British Shorthair cat) & Hopper (English bulldog).

Marriage

Marriage was never on their agenda. Neither of them felt the need to make their relationship formal, it wouldn't change anything between them—they were already acting like a married couple. Both Tiffany and Ethan think there are more valuable symbols of love than some paper signed in the presence of everyone they know. Partnership they were in seemed like the most comfortable and obvious choice.

The topic resurfaced with the pregnancy news. Our good guy Ethan, our Mr Must-Do-What’s-Right, proposed to Tiffany on their third anniversary dinner, right after they discovered they were expecting. He did it because it made sense. Because it was convenient. Because it was a decent thing to do.

But guess what...Tiffany rejected the proposal. She didn’t want to marry out of obligation. If they were really going to jump into marriage, she wanted it to matter. Ethan understood her point of view, though it didn't stop him from jokingly annoying her on every given occasion that she rejected him.

He waited two years before popping the question again. This time she said yes.

Dr. Grumpsey was willing to agree on a lavish wedding if Tiffany would insist. Lucky for him, his woman hates big, conventional weddings and all that unnecessary attention around the reception. They're both very private people, so they planned the wedding they were actually excited about.

They eloped to Miami where it all started, exchanging vows to the accompaniment of the ocean waves, with little NJ by their side. The wedding reception was just three people enjoying their day at the beach.

As you may suspect, their friends and family flew into a rage when they found out the wedding took place behind their backs. Jackie's death threats were particularly disturbing, so E&T decided to throw an afterparty for their loved ones only.

Career

Tiffany saw her future in diagnostics and followed that path, balancing her personal goals with striving for improvement in patient care. The word about her accomplishments with one of the best diagnostics teams spread fast; shortly after her challenging yet successful residency, Doctor Addams quickly proved to be one of the most valuable and respected diagnosticians—not only at Edenbrook, but also statewide, and later nationwide. She cracked some of the toughest, most hopeless cases, saving lives of many patients considered lost causes.

During her first pregnancy, her career was already on high speed and the situation made her even more determined to keep it that way. She didn't want to sacrifice her newly established position and Ethan did everything he could to support her and her career development.

She remained a vital part of Edenbrook's Diagnostics Team under Ethan's leadership for a few years. Their minds combined gave spectacular results and above it all they truly enjoyed working together. However, when Letty was born sharing responsibilities at home and managing the time got significantly harder. With minimal hesitation, Ethan decided it was his cue to leave.

He'd been thinking about the change for much longer than he was willing to admit: over the years he'd accomplished everything he could dream of and Edenbrook had become more of a duty than a challenge. So he quit, leaving the team in the most capable hands of Doctor Addams-Ramsey.

For a year and a half The Ethan Ramsey was a stay-at-home dad, juggling family, research for his second book and setting up his clinic with none other than Tobias Carrick.

Ethan wasn't 100% convinced if starting the practice with Tobias would be a wise move, but the clinic exceeded his expectations. Apart from the great sense of accomplishment, he finally gained full independence at work. And there were no bloody interns to babysit anymore.

When little Ramdams got older, he approached Tiffany with a job offer; the best diagnostician in the country was the last missing link in his clinic. She let it marinate for a few years and accepted the offer at the launch of her second book, soon after Letty's 18th birthday.

____

If there’s a typo or a mistake somewhere...No, there isn’t kgjdkgjdk

Thanks for reading 🥰 I have a few exciting fics in the making (both AUs & canon) and I hope I’ll be able to finish them soon!

[fabricated-misslieness]

Yoru x male reader

Got this idea from a tiktok. btw I have no idea if blunt force can cause a split lip.

Pre-VALORANT Protocol and Kingdom creation, a short time after First Light. This entire thing is a lot of headcanons

Requested: No

Word Count: 2,305

Warnings: making out, cat cockblocking cause she wants food, sparring, split lip, blood, a bit of sadomasochism, bottom & masochist Yoru, sadistic reader, very very suggestive

16+

His lungs were begging for air, his knees were close to giving in, his skin felt like it was burning, his arms were sore. It was no matter of time before he was on the ground again, your foot on his chest. He was starting to like this point of view.

Though he doesn’t get to cherish it much longer because you’re off of him quickly.

“You don’t block properly.” You state, wiping the sweat off your face with the bottom of your shirt. Yoru, despite all his exhaustion, wolf whistles as he stares at your exposed skin. You ignore him, seeing as this one was on you, unlike all the previous ones. “No offense-only can win in my arena.”

“Manly Jackie?” He suggests. Manly Jackie was once a participant of your arena. As most champions with awful alliances, his reign did not last long.

“He was once a champion, yes, but he was beaten by somebody with good balance. Coerce had both good and offensive qualities. Jackie ate shit that match.” You chuckle at the memory.

Yoru shrugs, standing up. Pain sears on his skin when he gets back on his feet, but he ignores it. If he wants to be in your arena, he has to be ‘eligible’. And boy, did he not meet your conditions. “Another round.”

You had to give it to him, he had courage. After all, he’d asked the boss of an arena to train him by sparring. But the courage blinded him; either that, or he just pushed right through the pain.

That ‘First Light’ event had given him a lot more courage than he already had. He had gotten powers from it, and he figured they’d be useful in battle. 

You see, Yoru had a lot of connections. He was the guy on the block that always got into trouble, yet he always managed to weasel out of it thanks to his connections. Though most of the trouble was caused by his connections, because that meant that his connections; enemies were his enemies. He was stuck in a loop, getting beat up by his connections’ enemies, then saved by his connections.

That was why he came to you. He wanted to get skills in fighting, not only to avoid his own demise from his connections’ enemies, but also to gain money. Your champions got rewards, and he was running a little low on funds.

It had been a while since the First Light happened, which gave you the right amount of time to decide whether to invite these new ‘superpowered’ people into your arena. You’d decided on yes, but these new people had to meet the conditions that the normal fighters did, skill and muscle.

He had some muscle, along with potential, but you wouldn't admit that; a big ego isn't a good trait for a beginner to have, even though he already had one.

You raise an eyebrow, “Tenth time I knock you off your feet, yet you’re still getting back up. I can tell you’re tired, Yoru.” He loved it when you said his given name, although it was the only one he gave to you. “This time you might just last 5 minutes.” 

“I’m fine with lasting 5 minutes.” He winks.

“Sorta pathetic if you do,” You look him up and down and see him shrink under your gaze. “both ways.” Yoru smirks. He likes when you flirt back, though he can’t tell if you mean it. 

“Sure you don’t just want to sit down for a while?” You gesture to the couch at the back of the room.

“I’m sure.”

Your living room was more of a gym than anything. Being the boss meant you got a steady income; you had a big apartment. You had a couch, yes, but anything else that’s part of a lounging area was nonexistent. Although, the room didn’t look quite good, with the couch standing out amongst the gym equipment and the kitchen having barely enough working space.

When Yoru first saw it, he questioned it. As the boss, he expected you to have many visits from ‘business partners’ of sorts. He’d assumed you did them in your own home, rather than anywhere else, which is dumb on his end.

"I don't get many visits.” You’d replied, after clearing up the business meeting part.

"I highly doubt that. With the way you look, I figured you got plenty of feminine visitors." He might just have killed his chances with you.

"Feminine, perhaps." Feminine submissive men, that is. He didn't know that, and you didn't feel like coming out to an acquaintance of yours. "But not all that often. Besides, they don’t stay for long.”

You regretted entertaining his perverted head, since that had sparked many more pick up lines from him. At least you believed it did, you didn’t know if he would’ve otherwise.

Yoru barely manages to dodge your punch, though before he can recover, you take his momentary vulnerability to strike again. He doesn’t have the reflexes to react. The air is knocked out of his lungs, and he doubles over in pain, yet he doesn’t tap out. You expect him to, which is why you don’t punch him again, but it gives him a moment to get back at you.

He punches your stomach, but at this point he’s so weak and exhausted that it barely hurts. You’re not one to take pity though. Over the years, you’d learned that mercy did not make good business in an underground job.

This blow is hard, then again all of them are hard, though this one seemed to do something different.

That something is knocking him out.

When he regains consciousness, he's laying down on your couch. You're on the other side of the room, leaning against your kitchen counter and rewrapping your knuckles.

"How long was I out?" He asks immediately, only to find that his jaw aches when he speaks.

"A few minutes." You reply, you don’t look up at him, nor do you seem surprised that he’d woken up. “A bit uncommon, though you’re only a rookie. In a few months, you’ll eat that kind of blow like it was any other.”

"You have no technique, your punches are too obvious, your blocks are easy to break, and you don't know your limits." You list off his weaknesses. “Don’t let that ego of yours get to your head.” They felt more like insults than constructive criticism.

Yoru huffs in frustration, though mentally taking note of them. Thanks to his arrogance, he thought he’d be a natural. Maybe he shouldn’t have asked the boss after all. He licks his lips as he thinks, it’s only then that he finds his bottom one is split. "Hey, (y/n)?" You look at him, he points towards his lips. "A little help?"

You sigh but gesture him to come to you. You take note of how his walk is a little eager as he walks to sit on the stool next to you.

You take his chin in your hand to tilt it up and inspect his lip, though you have no problem with diagnosing the problem. "Split lip."

"You know, I heard that you need to apply pleasure to a bleeding lip to fix it." His tone suggests he's not going to do it himself, as well as something else you definitely catch yet you ignore. He most certainly wasn't saying it innocently, instead, it was quite flirtatious.

"And what are you suggesting?" You can't help but flirt back. He's handsome, which is part of his charm, but you can't say you didn't enjoy beating up his pretty little face earlier; and not in the 'putting someone cocky down' kinda way.

“Put some kinda pressure on my lips.” Yoru elaborates.

You can’t help but laugh a little, “Okay, let me just get a rag.” You move away from him, but Yoru tugs you back, putting a hand on the back of your neck. Before you can say anything else, he kisses you. He's impatient and it's clear, he couldn’t stand you playing around anymore.

The blood from his busted lip would be discouraging, if you weren't lowkey sadistic. On the other hand, Yoru feels pain with every move of your lips against his own. He seems to like it though. He's had his fair share of hook ups, but never had pain been a part of them. It was new and thrilling to feel a sting of both pain and pleasure.

You, with all the experience you have, bite his bottom lip to ask for permission to deepen the kiss, forgetting Yoru's situation. You pull back, fully expecting a whine and complaint, but you find a moan instead. You'd never expected to find a masochist to your sadist, least of all him, but you took the opportunity.

"You liked that?" You chuckle. “Pain?”

"Oh, shut up." Yoru groans. He doesn't like to be on the receiving end of teasing, which is an unlikely pair to his masochism. “But, yes.”

You laugh again, only to take his lips moments after. You're heated in lip lock when you decide you're tired of this position, leaning down is a little tiring. With seemingly no effort at all, you lift him up. Yoru wraps his legs around your waist instinctively, pulling back from your kiss with a gasp. "Hey!" He whines, only to be interrupted by a moan when your hands dig into his ass.

"Now where do you want to go?" You give him a flirtatious smile. "Bedroom, traditional but I can't blame you; couch, more comfortable for the both of us; or counter? High chance of getting bent over." Your words send a shiver down his spine. 

He liked this new, flirtatious you. Before, you were a mere connection which he’d gotten from running errands for you every now and then. They were mundane tasks, and as boss, you had to keep your intimidating, serious composure. Naturally, it made him want to crack you, see who you were when nobody was looking at you. Obviously, your personality was not flirting, although at least it wasn’t the aforementioned. Hopefully he’d find out more the next morning.

"Counter." Yoru mutters. He hopes to god that you don't make him repeat himself with the fake excuse that you hadn't heard him.

Thankfully, you don't, instead bringing him to sit on top of the counter. Your hands are no longer on his ass, something he disliked, but he can't really blame you for it. He starts kissing you again, hungry and yearning. His fingers tug at your hair restlessly, legs still around your waist pulling you closer to him.

He wants more, and you’ll gladly give it to him.

You bite his bottom lip again, making him open his mouth with a gasp. You take advantage of the moment, sliding your tongue in his mouth. Your hands slip under his shirt, caressing his skin absentmindedly. The rough feeling of your hand wrap contrasts against your soft yet calloused fingers, yet it felt good all the same. Yoru finds your touch leaving a burning feeling, suddenly finding himself hot and bothered.

He pulls back, much to your mutual dismay. Before you can ask, he takes off his shirt, clearing your confusion. “Oh.”

Yoru laughs, “Oh.” He mocks you.

You tsk, silencing him with your lips before he can tease you further. Yoru’s disappointed by the fact you don’t play with his chest anymore, seeing as he discarded of his shirt for that purpose. He takes your hands and slides them up his abdomen, leaving you to figure out the rest. He’s disappointed when you pull back just to laugh.

“That eager, huh?” Yoru, instead of avoiding your gaze like other people would, looks you head on with a look that says ‘so what?’. It makes you laugh again, “Alright, alright.”

You peck him on the lips, which confuses him a little, until you pepper kisses down to his neck. He groans as you do, hands trailing up to your hair and tugging your head further down. “Jeez.” You mutter, but continue anyway. Meanwhile, your hands trail up to his nipples and play with them. Once again, your hand wraps cause different textures and feelings.

You kiss and bite at his neck, leaving marks. Some of them are stained with blood, though that comes from kissing his cut lips.

Before you can continue doing anything else, though, you hear a meow. Both of you stop and  turn to look down, seeing your cat looking up at you two. Immediately, the mood dies down, because you can’t just make out in front of your floofy child.

Yoru unwraps his legs from your waist, allowing you to bend down and reach out to pet her. Instead of accepting the pets, she reaches out to swat you with her claws. Unfortunately, you don’t react quick enough, even with those reflexes of yours. You hiss, clutching your hand. Yoru laughs while you give him side eye with a huff, “It’s her dinner time.”

You move towards the cabinets, where you keep her food. He watches you as you prepare it from the counter. 

For a moment, you sit in silence, but he doesn’t like that. "If you can't make fun of me 5 seconds after making out with me, who even are you?"

You chuckle and comply. "You know, if you had chosen the bedroom, the cat wouldn't have bothered us." You think it over for a few seconds. "Well, she would've, but the sound of her slashing at my door would've been drowned out by the bed creaking."

Yoru flushes red, even though he’d actually asked you to tease him. “Then let’s go there afterwards.”

You shrug, “It depends on if you get me in the mood again.”

[hellfire-munson]

Looking Up Luke x Reader Pt 1

Pairings: Luke x Reader (Briefly at the end), Julie x BestFriend! Reader

 Warnings: Fluff, Brief mention of sad memories.

Word count: 2211

This is My first post so bare with me. I’ll get better at the edits and stuff as I learn my way around Tumblr. I also took inspiration from Paramore and the reader was strongly based on Hayley Williams in my mind but you can make her in your image. I don't own Paramore or their music. The song I took inspiration from is Looking Up.

     “Jules, you and Flynn are coming tonight, right?” You ask while you and your best friend throw you school books in your locker after your last period. Julie looks over and smiles at you.

     “Of course! The boys were wanting to tag along especially after I told them how you were in a band of your own. They wanted to know why you denied their offer after Luke heard you shred the guitar solo during that one rehearsal.” She says.

      “If he thought I was shredding that guitar, just wait till they see what I really got going on. Right now all they know and all anyone knows and thinks is I play guitar for the band. Also Luke wanted me to join so he could see me everyday.” You smile.

      “Wait, Jackie walked?!” She screamed excitedly.

      “Yeah, after her and I got into this huge argument about the upcoming shows and letting me actually sing vocals for MY songs she walked away, and someone had to take her place. I wrote this new song we are going to play tonight, you’re going to love it.” You smile at her.

      “Y/N this is amazing! Our mom’s would be so proud of us.” She smiles longingly.

     “Maybe we could collaborate one day, I know you’re a bit more popish than what Paramore is but we could make something work!” You smile at her. She jumps up and down loving the idea of the whole thing.

    “Yes! That would be amazing! Let's head home, we have to get ready for tonight. Oh how will we get in? I thought the venue sold out in minutes?” She asks turning to look at you as you two walk through the doors to your car. You pulled 5 vip lanyards out of your bag and handed them to her.

    “I got you covered girl, don’t worry.” You smile unlocking the door. The drive back to your house was filled with you blasting all your bands old songs and singing along. You were lucky enough to live in the same neighborhood as Julie and the boys so you often carpooled to school but the boys had things to do after school before the show so they went their separate ways. Julie was trying to help you choose your clothes for tonight but with you two being so entirely polar opposite it was hard. If anyone was to help you it should have been Luke since you two share almost the same fashion sense with a hint of Reggie mixed in. You eventually settled for an old cut up Sunset Curve shirt you “borrowed” from Luke with a lace bra underneath and you paired that with your highwaisted, ripped black skinny jeans and your studded Doc Martens. What you decided to do with your hair and makeup will come to you once you hit the venue. You gathered your things to pack into the car while Julie made some final accessory details to your look. She handed you your chain to attach to your jeans along with an assortment of rings and bracelets. Everything was looking perfect for your first big performance as the lead singer.

    “Okay, I gotta head to the venue for soundcheck. You, Flynn and the boys should be there around 6, the show starts at 7:00.” You smile, dropping her off at her house. You see the boys sitting in the garage waving at you. You smile and wave back before backing out of Molina's driveway and head towards The Orpheum.

           Soundcheck went perfectly and it left a little time to grab a light snack before you had to get ready. You knew not to go to the street dogs stand after the incident with the boys that ended their lives 25 years ago before they met Julie and you and somehow were brought back by the two of you. Your drummer’s  girlfriend decided to have catering come out with healthy choices which you were enjoying as we speak. Heading back to your dressing room the security guard stopped you saying there was a group of people here to see the band.

    “Oh that’s my friends from school, you can let them on back. Thanks Alan!” You smile popping a strawberry in your mouth.

     “You didn’t tell me you were playing the Orpheum!” You hear Flynn yell causing you to turn around with a piece of cantaloupe hanging out of your mouth.

     “Well you didn’t ask.” You say chewing the part that was in your mouth.

“Okay smartass. Also when did you change your hair color?” She asks pointing to your now orange hair. You smile slyly at her.

      “I did last night, but I wore it up in a hat today so people didn’t see it until now.” You say getting up to hug your friends. The boys are just standing at the door staring at you.

    “I don’t bite, you can come in.” You joke ushering them in.

“You’re playing the Orpheum tonight Y/N how does it feel to make it big?” Alex asks.

     “I’m not sure yet, maybe I’ll know after the show. Which speaking of that when you guys head down to the floor just find Alan and he’ll take you to the spot that’s reserved for you guys.” You smile at them.

    “Your hair is so bright.” Is all Reggie can say making everyone burst out laughing.

    “I can’t wait to see you shred the stage tonight. That day at rehearsal when you and Julie were goofing off… Holy shit, that was sick!” Luke says jumping up and down.

     “It runs in the family to be honest. Our moms were in a band when they were our age and my dad is a world known rockstar so I learned at a young age.” You smile winking at Julie.

     “Well we should start heading down so you can get ready. We are going to dinner after this to celebrate just so you know.” Julie says smiling at you. Once they left you started getting ready to meet up with your band to do your before show ritual handshake.

    “All right guys, this is the Orpheum. The place is packed with execs. This will be our big break. Let’s rock it!” Andrew says putting his hand in the middle as the rest of you follow. The opening band finishes their set signaling your time to go. The band runs out causing the crowd to erupt in screams of your name. You stay back to surprise everyone as they begin playing your new song.

    “Los Angeles! Are you ready!” You scream from backstage as the beat picks up.

Things are looking up, oh finally!

I thought I'd never see the day

When you smile at me.

We always pull through, oh when we try,

I'm always wrong but you're never right.

Oh you're never right!

       You run out causing everyone to scream as you work the stage to the music. Luke, Flynn and the boys look up in awe hearing your voice for the first time. The way you rocked out was breathtaking to Luke.

Honestly, can you believe

We crossed the world while it's asleep?

I'd never trade it in, 'cause I've always wanted this!

And it's not a dream anymore!

No. It's not a dream anymore!

It's worth fighting for.

     You interacted with the audience as you sang the lyrics. You shot a wink over at Luke when you noticed his jaw nearly dropped to the floor. Julie looked over at him and knew right then and there he has fallen in love with you even more than he already was. She smiled at her bandmate. She saw the smile break across his face as he began banging his head to the beat.

Could have given up so easily

I was a few cheap shots away from the end of me

Taken for granted, almost everything that I would have died for

Just yesterday,

Just yesterday

Honestly, can you believe

We crossed the world while it's asleep?

I'd never trade it in, 'cause I've always wanted this!

It's not a dream anymore!

Oh. It's not a dream anymore!

It's worth fighting for.

     You interacted with your bandmates as they played their instruments, dancing around the stage as you had the time of your life. Jumping and head banging with your guitarist.

God knows the world doesn't need another band, (whoa, whoa!)

But what a waste it would've been! (whoa, whoa!)

I can't believe we almost hung it up (whoa, whoa!)

We're just getting started (whoa, whoa!)

Honestly, can you believe

We crossed the world while it's asleep?

I'd never trade it in, 'cause I've always wanted this!

It's not a dream anymore!

Oh. It's not a dream anymore!

It's worth fighting for.

        You stood there smiling, taking a breath letting the crowd think you were done before you jumped off the drum stage singing the final line of the song.

I can't believe we almost hung it up!(whoa whoa)

We're just getting started! (whoa whoa)

Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!

       You dropped to your knees as you held the final verse as the lights went out sending the crowd into a fit of cheers and screams. You smile to yourself as you hold the microphone in your lap. The lights come back on letting you see the crowd still cheering you on. The surreal feeling you had was causing your heart to sing and you were pretty sure you saw a sign off in the distance of the audience that let you know your mother was proud of you. Composing yourself, you finished the night with 6 more songs.

    “Thank you guys for coming out to support a small band from this sleepless city. We are Paramore! Good night!” You said before running off backstage. You are met with your friends and a very starstruck Luke.

    “Oh my god! That was amazing! I mean we knew you could sing but that was epic! Why haven’t you fronted before?” Flynn asks.

    “Jackie wouldn’t let me. The band was my idea back when I was slowly getting back into music but I was still wanting to stay back and play. I wrote all the songs and let her sing them. When I finally said I was ready for a shot she threw a fit and when the rest of the band sided with me she walked.” You say taking a swig of water.

    “So this is why you refused to join us?” Alex asks.

    “That and your style isn’t my style of music. It’s to pop centric but I told Julie there might be a chance of collaboration in the future.” You smile seeing Reggie get excited about the idea.

    “And then we can do a country album!” He yells causing your bandmates to start laughing at your reactions. During your laughter you didn’t see a man dressed very businessy walk in.

    “Y/N…” Julie says tapping your shoulder pointing to the doorway.

    “Oh, hi!” You say walking over with your band to meet the man.

   “I’m Eric from Capitol records. Are you Y/N?” He asks.

   “Um, y-yeah I am.” You say reaching out to shake his hand. Your friends are eavesdropping behind you while pretending to hold a conversation of their own.

    “I’ve seen many bands here, I’ve scouted some of the biggest names in music but the energy you displayed tonight is something we’ve never seen but have been looking for, for our label. Capitol records would be happy to have you join. Here’s my card. Give me a call and we will set up a meeting with the head of the label and get you signed.” He says handing you his card.

    “Oh my, wow! Thank you. Also if you don’t mind me spreading the word but I know of another you might be interested in. I’ll send you their latest video if you’re up for it.” You smile sneaking a look over at your friend and her bandmates.

    “Of course, we are always looking for new talents.” He says before exiting the room.

    “Was that?! YES!” You scream jumping into Luke’s arms. Everyone starts dancing around cheering.

    “We are being signed to Capitol Records!” You yell into the air as Luke holds you close to him. His eyes never leave your smiling face. He throws caution to the wind when you look back at him and he crashes his lips onto yours making everyone stop and gasp.

    “Well it's about damn time!” Alex shouts as you two pull away.

    “Well damn Patterson, if that’s what I get for getting signed I wonder what I’ll get after I tell you I sent your video to him as well.” You smile.

   “YOU DID WHAT?!” The band screams together.

   “We’re all getting signed.” You smile.

    “I’m going to marry this girl.” Luke says kissing you once more with more passion than the first. Everything was falling perfectly into place and you couldn’t wait to see what the future holds for you all.

I don't know how good this is, it sounded good and looked good when I was writing so I’m throwing caution to the wind and going for it. 

@parkeret​ I promised I’d tag you in my first one, I hope it doesn't suck!

@issaxcharlie thank you for also pushing me to do this as well!

@cookiebuba

[livesincerely]

Keepsakes from Jack’s POV? (That fic broke my heart and fixed it all at once. Absolutely beautiful!!)

trinkets

Also on Ao3. Davey’s pov here.

00000

Even after all the trouble he went to getting the address, Jack almost decides not to go. Les’ text message stares up at him accusingly when he double checks his phone, Davey’s new apartment number listed with the blunt instruction, ‘Don’t fuck this up.’

Easy for him to say. Jack’s still not sure how things fell apart in the first place.

He rings the doorbell, his stomach rolling with nerves, and for one terrible second he thinks that maybe no one’s home, or even worse, that maybe that Davey just won’t answer for him.

But the door creaks open.

“Jack,” Davey says, more of a statement than a question, his eyes wide with shock.

Jack’s heart swirls and swoops in his chest at the sight of him. Davey looks just the same as he did when they last saw each other, just the way he always looks in Jack’s dreams and his nightmares—long and lean, with big blue eyes made even brighter by the lush lashes that frame them.

“Hi, Davey,” Jack says, shoving his hands into his pockets so he doesn’t drag Davey into a desperate embrace.

“You...” Davey pauses, visibly uncertain, his fingers clenched in a death grip around his doorframe. “What are you doing here?”

“I got the address from Les,” Jack explains, and it sounds like such a flimsy excuse now that he’s saying it aloud. “I’m in town for the week visiting Ma and Charlie, thought I could swing by and see you for a sec.”

“Oh,” Davey says.

“So, uh, can I come in?” Jack asks, nervous.

“Oh, right,” Davey mutters, holding the door open wider and beckoning him forward. “Yeah, sure. Please, come in.”

It’s a nice apartment. Jack recognizes a lot of the furniture in the entryway and living room from when they were living together, and he spies a few picture frames hanging in the hallway that he’s pretty sure he picked out himself—the scattered reminders help something settle in his chest even as something else fizzes and buzzes behind his eyes.

“You moved out of the old place,” Jack can’t help but point out as he takes it all in; he’s been wondering about the change ever since he found out Davey moved.

“It was a bit too much for just one person,” Davey says quietly. “A smaller apartment is easier to keep up with.”

There’s a brief pause where that statement hangs in the air between them, heavy and awkward. Jack feels like an absolute heel—of course Davey wouldn’t be able to make rent on their old place by himself, and it’s not like there’d been space for a housemate. Of course he’d had to move.

Davey continues, “Can I get you anything? Soda or coffee or...?”

“Coffee would be great, actually,” Jack says, not really all that interested in a drink, but happy for an excuse to linger for a while. “But, uh, only if it won’t put ya out.”

“It’s no trouble,” Davey says, and Jack can’t tell if he’s being honest or just being polite. “Here, go ahead and sit down and I’ll fix you a cup.”

Jack settles down onto one of the stools at the island while Davey putters around the kitchen, taking a moment while Davey’s back is turned to just look at him.

He needs a haircut, Jack thinks, noting the way Davey’s fringe falls into his eyes as he fiddles with the coffee maker—just long enough now that it’s starting to curl up at the ends, making him look even softer then he usually does—then sort of hating that he’s noticed.

He shouldn’t care. He knows he shouldn’t.

But he does.

“So, how have you been?” Davey asks, head ducked down to watch the coffee brew. “How’s Santa Fe been treating you?”

“‘S good,” Jack says, talking out his ass, too focused on the motion of Davey’s fingers as he drums them against the countertops, on the delicate line of his wrists peeking out from under his shirt sleeves, to pay attention to what he’s saying. “It’s great, it’s got everything: clear skies, gorgeous sunsets. If you go out to the desert at the right time of day the views are unreal. So, uh, life’s pretty good.”

Davey still doesn’t turn toward him, still won’t lift his head. It’s making something go uncomfortably tight in Jack’s chest, his pulse beating a few ticks faster in his ears.

“And work’s going well?”

“Real well,” Jack tells the back of Davey’s head, and as he watches, Davey’s shoulders stiffen. “Now that I’ve been there a while they’re startin’ to give me my own projects to work on, which is great. Nerve racking, and I’m constantly terrified that I’m gonna fuck it all up, but great. Honestly, the studio space and the stipend I get for supplies on its own is pretty incredible, let alone all the experience and connections I’m getting too. So, yeah, things are goin’ well.”

“That’s great, Jack,” Davey says, and he actually sounds like he means it, but he still won’t meet Jack’s eyes. It’s kinda starting to piss him off. “I’m glad things are working out for you.”

“Couldn’t ask for much more,” Jack says, but he’s not quite able to mask the hint of bitterness that creeps into his tone—the one thing he’d ask for is standing right in front of him, but he might as well be on Mars for how vast the distance between them feels.

It’s just Jack’s luck that this is the moment when Davey finally, finally looks at him. It’s only a brief glance in his direction before his gaze falls away again, but even just that almost feels like too much: those eyes are as gorgeous as ever, and vividly, brilliantly blue.

Jack’s breath hitches in his throat—if he wasn’t still hopelessly, haplessly in love with Davey, he’s pretty sure that would’ve caused him to fall all over again. But he isn’t so distracted that he doesn’t notice the wealth of emotion swirling in that gaze: something vulnerable and pained tucked beneath Davey’s calm facade.

“How’re you doin’, Davey?” he asks carefully.

“Good,” Davey says to the coffee maker. “I’ve been good.”

“Yeah?” Jack presses, watching him closely. “Anythin’ interestin’ goin’ on?”

“Just the same old, same old,” Davey says, which doesn’t sound like a lie, but isn’t really an answer. “Nothing new to tell, honestly.”

“Nothing at all?” Jack says, relieved and annoyed all at once at this response, but trying to sound like he doesn’t care as much as he does. This is the best answer he could’ve hoped for, probably—he’s honestly not sure what he would’ve done if Davey started talking about how wonderful his life has been without Jack in it. He tries, “Did you ever end up gettin’ that transfer you wanted?”

Davey crosses his arms across his chest. “I, uh, rescinded the request after you— after everything,” he explains softly. “There wasn’t really a need, and it was easier to just stay at my old branch.”

“Oh,” Jack says.

The silence is punctuated by the drip drip drip of the coffee finishing up. Davey pulls a couple of mugs out of one of the cabinets and fixes them both a cup.

“Here you go,” Davey says, passing him a mug.

Jack goes to take a sip, the freezes midway through the motion, heart seizing in his chest as he realizes what he’s holding.

The pottery place had been his attempt at a unique, memorable first date, figuring that he might as well weigh the dice in his favor by going with something artsy. He’d been so fucking nervous the entire week leading up to it, had wanted so badly to impress the beautiful, brilliant boy that had just transferred in, because he’s been in love with Davey almost since the moment they met and it’s not looking like that’s gonna stop any time soon.

So the fact that Davey’s throwing that back in his face, taunting him with the reminder of how something so wonderful has since shattered to pieces... Jack’s whole body tenses up, fury sparking hot in his stomach.

“What the fuck, Davey?” he spits out. “Are you fucking kidding me right now?”

Davey has the fucking gall to look startled, maybe even a little hurt.

“Why do you still have this?” Jack demands, slamming the mug down so hard that some of the contents spill out, coffee pooling on the counter. “Why would you keep—?”

“Why wouldn’t I keep it?” Davey asks, like he honestly doesn’t see what the big deal is. “It’s mine, isn’t it?”

And that is just... Jack almost wants to laugh, except he thinks he’s never heard anything less funny in his life.

“Oh, so that’s where you draw the line, huh?” Jack says, voice tight with anger. “That’s how it is? Knick knacks, keepsakes, sure, those you’ll keep around, but the stuff that’s actually worth having? That’s actually worth fighting for? You can just let all that go without ever sayin’ a fuckin’ word otherwise because who gives a shit—”

Davey’s expression twists.

“Right, because you were so fucking eager to stay?” he asks with a derisive scoff. “Give me a break, Jack, you couldn’t wait to leave. Just fucked off to the other side of the country and left me here to pick up the pieces—”

“You were all but pushing me out the fucking door!” Jack accuses, throwing his hands up. “‘It’s a wonderful opportunity, Jackie,’ ‘You’d be an idiot not to take it, Jackie,’ ‘It’s what you’ve always dreamed of, Jackie!’ What a load of horseshit—”

“Oh, so it’s my fault for being supportive?’ Davey asks, incredulous—as if Jack’s the one that’s in the wrong here. “Are you serious?”

“I’m just sayin’, you weren’t exactly bent outta shape at the thought of me leavin’,” Jack says, frigid, because if he lets himself think about it too much, if he lets himself remember the gaping hole that had formed in his chest when he’d realized that loves Davey more than Davey loved him, he thinks he might shatter completely. “Didn’t seem to bother you one fuckin’ bit. Probably relieved to finally have an excuse to get rid of me—”

“Shut your fucking mouth,” Davey hisses, and he strides forward until they’re standing nearly chest to chest—the closest they’ve been in almost a year. “I’ve missed you like you wouldn’t believe, missed you every single goddamn second of the last eight months, don’t think for a moment that I didn’t, you fucking asshole.”

“Oh, yeah?” Jack bites out, not believing this for a second. “If you missed me so fucking much, then why’d we break up?”

“Because you were moving to Santa Fe!” Davey yells back. “You were leaving, Jackie! What else was I supposed to do, except let you go and try my best to be happy for you?”

Jackie. It sounds different coming out of Davey’s mouth. Something prickles at Jack’s eyes, and the threat of tears almost makes him angrier.

“If you really wanted me to be happy,” Jack growls, “you would’ve come with me.”

“You didn’t ask me to come with you!” Davey shouts.

“And you didn’t ask me to stay!”

“Ask you to stay? Ask you to stay?” Davey says, and his eyes are wild, burning and blazing as he stares Jack down. “Of course I didn’t fucking ask you to stay, I was never going to ask you to stay! It was Santa Fe, it was all you ever fucking talked about, it was your dream, Jack! It was everything that you wanted! I would never even suggest that you give that up, God, what kind of shit-ass person do you think I am, that you thought I would ever, ever try to stand between you and Santa Fe when I know how important it is to you—?”

“I’m not fucking hearing this,” Jack says, shaking his head, because he isn’t. He can’t be. Because it sounds like Davey is saying... Like he’s telling him that... “I am not fucking hearing this. I— You—“

Jack turns on his heel and storms out of Davey’s apartment, slamming the door behind him as he goes. He only gets a few steps down the hallway before his knees give out from underneath him, leaving him staggering into the nearest wall, his breaths coming in ragged pants.

Davey.

It’s like it’s seared into the space behind his eyes, woven right between his heartstrings—the look on Davey’s face, the sound of Davey’s voice, the shape and color of Davey’s eyes.

Davey. Always, always Davey

Jack loves him. It’s not like it’s a surprise, but then, Jack’s always known that.

Maybe Davey hadn’t known. Maybe Davey hadn’t known that there’s nothing on this earth that Jack loves more than him, maybe he hadn’t realized how utterly, impossibly, eternally in love with him Jack is.

Maybe Jack needs to tell him.

When he enters the apartment again he finds Davey right where he left him, and Jack can’t help but be reminded of the last time they parted, when Jack left for Santa Fe all those months ago. But this is the part he hadn’t seen back then, the part that Davey had hidden from him: he’d never been privy to the way Davey’s whole body can wilt in on itself when he’s heartbroken, had never witnessed the way Davey’s usually steady hands tremble when he’s holding back a sob.

Davey’s head jerks up as Jack steps back inside and his lips quiver when he shuts the door behind him.

His eyes are wet.

Jack steps forward, bunches his hands in the fabric of Davey shirt, and pulls him into a desperate, scorching kiss.

“I love you,” Jack says fiercely. “I love you. I loved you before I got the job offer, I loved you while I was searching for apartments and planning the move, I loved you every time I talked up Santa Fe to you, tryin’ to convince you to come with me any way I could think of. I loved you when we broke up, I loved you when I left, I loved you when I landed, and it’s been eight fucking months and I’m still so fucking in love with you—”

Davey kisses him this time, and the press of his mouth against his own, the tangle of his fingers in Jack’s hair as he tugs him closer, the taste and heat and feel of him—it’s like coming home.

“I love you too, Jackie,” Davey promises, and hearing the words finally soothes something deep down in Jack’s very being. He hadn’t thought he’d ever hear them again. “I love you and I’ve missed you so much—”

“I missed you,” Jack says, punctuating the declaration with another kiss. “You’re it for me Davey. There’s just you. And I… I can’t give this up again. Santa Fe ain’t worth nothin’ if you’re not there with me.”

“I thought that was what you wanted,” Davey murmurs, holding him tight. “I thought I had to let you go.”

Jack shakes his head.

“I wanted you to keep me,” he confesses—he’s never been brave enough to say it aloud before. “And I wanted to keep you too.”

“Then keep me,” Davey says, and it rings like a promise. “Keep me.”

00000

Tags! @yahfancyclamwiththepurlinside @corbinthecowboy @stroopwafeldetective @lyydiiaak

[madirablack]

R76 HCS

Time to cry

my angsty gay fathers

Okay so like with the Mchanzo one it starts with how they got to their current point

Both are 100% gay, and only really been with each other. they're soulmates.

first met in the pre-overwatch military, Gabe being Jack's commander.

Jack was sent to the military after his father found out he was gay to "make him a real man"

they grew closer and closer together over their years of service, becoming colleagues to almost brothers.

Jack first realised he loved Gabe after he patched him up mid-gunfight

he confessed rather awkwardly a day later, and Gabe accepted, out on a whim not really a hundred percent invested.

he fell for Jack faster than he could say "commander reyes"

Gabe made it his mission to protect Jack, to always keep him out of harm's way, which was rather hard in the middle of a war.

When they entered the S.E.P, they got even closer. Comforting each other after all the injections made them throw up and shake, after they were exerted to their limits. They were each other's constant in an ever-changing world.

Gabe always threw up from the injections and Jack got really bad migraines and they'd both pass out a lot

When they were put on leave, they met each other's families.

Jack's family were on the whole rather approving of Gabe, his mom loved him. The initial meeting was all going well until his father came back, and it was a shitshow.

Gabe had to teach Jack a bunch of emergency Spanish on the flight to LA, most of which he remembered. Gabe's mother was incredibly sceptical of Jack to begin with, but the longer the two stayed together, the more she loved him.

The first crisis was both terrifying and exhilarating for them. They got informally married about half way through, exchanging dog tags and then getting formally married later on

When Overwatch was established and they were allocated bedrooms and offices, they both instantly chose to stay in Jack's.

Gabe was happy for Jack when he got the Strike Commander position, he couldn't deal with the stress himself and the pride he saw in his husband was enough to keep him going.

The two suddenly became a lot busier when overwatch was up and running and had less and less time to be a couple but whoever fell asleep first would always latch onto the other the second they got into bed. if they couldn't spend the day together then at least they could cuddle at night.

Each near miss on missions was catastrophic and caused them both to be absolutely in shreds with worry.

Ana's 'death' destroyed them. She was a sister to both of them and they started to grow apart with their differing ways to deal with grief

The Zurich bombing was the worst either of them had ever felt in their entire lives. Gabe got impaled on a rebar and crushed by a wall fragment and died, his last words being "I'm sorry, Jackie." Jack got crushed by the ceiling of the meeting hall, but he didnt die from it.

When they figured out who 'Soldier 76' and 'Reaper' were, it broke them beyond words.

When they first met again unmasked, they stayed silent for an entire hour before Jack started with an apology, and everything came pouring back out.

Jack convinced Winston and everyone else to let Gabriel back on the watchpoint

Pre-fall relationship life HCs

FATHERS OF JESSE MCCREE. The second that boy gets injured they're practically flying down to the medbay and badgering Angela for details

CEOS of calming down PTSD. like omg they know everything about each other's triggers and how exactly to calm each other down.

Small gestures of love, a quick kiss when passing each other, a hand hold, leaving for a mission and leaving out a coffee and breakfast, that sorta thing.

they both find it very hard to sleep at night so most of the time they just lay there talking.

They try hard to make time to spend just the two of them. Their favourite pastime used to be being sat in an old airship, looking out across the base and just talking about everything and anything. just being in each other's company was enough for them

Jack can cook but it's all "white people shit" as referred to by Gabe

Nicknames!! J->G : Gabi, Star, Captain, babe, sweetheart, Angel, Soldier G->J: Jackie, Commander, "sir" but mockingly, Cariño, baby, Solider,

always defending each other

taking bullets literally and metaphorically for one another

Staying with each other in the medbay all night

reminding each other of self-care, like making sure each other eat, drink enough water, take meds all that kinda stuff

Cuddles, these boys cuddle so much.

Going home at Christmas to Gabe's family and having an amazing time

Their "deaths"

Jack saw the newscast and his world fell apart. He cried for days on end.

Gabe convinced himself it wasn't real

They left white Roses on each other's "graves" whenever they could.

they started to notice something was up when the flowers that only they knew the significance of kept popping up at the same time.

The reunion

Their masks had been knocked off in battle and they were both gravely injured. Jack set down a biotic field for them both.

"Hi...Jackie."

"oh my fucking god."

"..."

"*tries to hold in tears and pass it off as laughter* you're so fucking old."

post-reunion

Struggling to stay intimate and loving like they used to, but it's obvious they're more than thankful to have each other back.

Gabe very insecure about how his body turned out, and so it takes him an incredibly long time to agree to let Jack see him again.

Once Gabriel managed to get out of talon and was allowed back on the watchpoint, (with constant supervision) he felt incredibly out of place.

Staying up all night talking to each other about what happened to them when they were separated.

Glad they got to grow old together.

Finding themselves staring at each other at random moments, in awe that everything turned out the way it did.

Sharing beers on the rooftops of the watchpoint and reminiscing about their 30+ years in each other's company.

"I still love you, and that will never change."

Getting to know each other again,and seeing glimpses of their younger selves in each other.

[band--psycho]

The Truth -Chibs x Reader (Part 3)

Part 2

Third Person POV 

“What do you mean he’s not here?!” Jax seethed, clenching his fists to try and contain his anger. 

“We checked out the entire house, he’s not here brother,” Tig said solemnly.

“We’re gonna find him son,” Clay said, placing a reassuring hand on Jax’s shoulder. 

“We’ll ask around, see if anyone knows him, or where he’d go,” Clay explained. 

“What if they don’t wanna talk to us,” Juice asked, causing Clay to chuckle darkly. 

“Then Juicy, we make them,” he said bluntly, leaving the house. As soon as the other Sons had left the house, Jax exploded, his anger taking hold as he wrecked the living room. They needed to find this man, and soon, he couldn’t protect his sister when she needed it, but he was going to now. He was going to protect her from this monster, no matter what. 

Chibs POV

“Lass, stop, ye don’t need to apologise for anything,” I said calmly, as Y/n began another apology for what happened. Was I shocked that it happened, Yes. Was I angry at her for it. Not at all. She was suffering so much already...the last thing she needed to be blaming herself for was this. 

“I could’ve shot you, Chibs,” Y/n said, her voice cracking slightly as the words left her mouth. 

“I know the scotsman can be a bit annoying but there’s no need to shoot him,” Gemma said, a slight chuckle in her voice as she entered the room. 

“I think we need to have a chat, sweetheart,” Gemma said sitting down next to her, placing her hand comfortingly on Y/ns. I took that as my sign to leave so they could talk in private; I kissed Y/n lightly on her forehead, before squeezing Gemma's shoulder and leaving. As if on cue his phone started ringing.

“He was gone when we got here; we’re gonna be up here a bit longer, see if we can find anything out,” Jax explained, at his words I felt my heart drop. 

“Thanks for letting me know Jackie…” I sighed, hanging up the phone. 

Time Skip-One week later

Y/Ns POV

There was still no sign of him. Either the people around didn’t know him, or they didn’t know where he would be. I felt guilty, I knew the guys weren’t gonna stop until he was dead...but they were all driving themselves insane with it. I knew Jax and Chibs were barely sleeping, the bags under their eyes were getting bigger with each day that passed. Mum kept asking me if I was fine at least one hundred times a day. Clay kept on reassuring me that they were gonna find him, but I honestly thought he was trying to persuade himself more than me.Bobby, Tig and Juice kept giving me sympathetic looks if I ever saw them; they spent most of the days with Jax and Clay, out trying to find him. Don’t get me wrong I was grateful for what they were trying to do; I wanted him dead too; but not at the expense of my family. 

“Evening, lass” Chibs greeted, as he knocked on the bedroom door in the clubhouse-I’d been staying here for the past few days, I hated burdening mum and Clay with the nightmares I was having, they needed sleep and having me there meant they were getting very little, so I decided to stay here. Of course they wouldn’t let me stay alone so Jax and Chibs took turns on looking after me, I tried to argue with them about it, but of course that didn’t work.

“Evening,” I greeted back with a small smile on my face. I hated being like this; especially with Chibs. All I wanted to do was for things to go back to normal...to be normal with him, to be how they were before I left, when we were both happy. We talked for a while, laughing and joking just like old times. 

“It’s getting late, you should try and get some sleep,” he said with a warm smile on his face. I simply nodded, as he began to leave the room, but I grabbed his hand lightly.

“Stay?” I asked, meeting his eyes. 

“Lass, are you sure..?” Chibs asked, and I simply nodded. Slowly he got into the other side of the bed; I shuffled closer to him, as he tentatively put an arm around my waist.

“Thank you,” I whispered. 

“Oh sweetheart,” he began, pulling me closer towards him.

“You never have to thank me, I’m always gonna be here for ya,” he continued, kissing my forehead. 

Time Skip-A few hours later

I woke up in Chibs’ arms, for the first time in a while, I didn’t have a nightmare. I couldn’t help the small smile that came across my face when I looked up and  saw him fast asleep. I lightly  traced over the scar on the left side of his mouth, he looked so peaceful...it’s the first time I’d seen him calm since I’d been back.Things between us were so complicated sometimes; but they were also some of the best times of my life. He always had this way of making me feel safe, maybe that’s why I rarely ever flinched when he touched me, and why right now, in his arms, I felt safer than I had done in a long time...because I knew him, I trusted him..I loved him. And that’s why I left…because I was falling in love with him and it scared me, but being back here, seeing him again, I realised how much I’d missed him..and how much I still loved him. I lied there  for a while, memories of the two of us running through my brain. After a while, I decided to go outside and get some fresh air. I slowly opened the bedroom door, just enough for me to squeeze out of and quietly closed it behind me and made my way outside. Winter was just beginning to set in, so there was a slight chill in the air, not that I minded all that much. 

“Hello, darling,” I felt a knife on my throat as I heard the voice I’d tried so hard to forget ...I kept hoping that this was just a really real nightmare, and that soon I was going to wake up and everything was going to be fine. 

“Did you miss me?”

Part 4

Tag list: 

@glicabhainn00 @miss-nori85 @edonaspanca @xbreezymeadowsx

[whump-town]

Working the Case

this is all @yourlocalheartbreaker fault. so

Warnings for major character death(s), gore, Foyet-- essentially, this is about that little comment Foyet made in S5 ep9 “100″ so if you’re not ready for that... don’t read it

“After I finish you, I’m gonna find that little bastard son of yours and I’m going to show him both of his dead parents, and I’m gonna tell him that it was all your fault”

Though Jack Hotchner remains too young to cognitively hold on to concrete memories of his parents, there is still the foundation of trust that he holds for them. He will never remember the countless baths that his mother gave him. The way she always held her hand against his hairline to keep the suds from falling into his eyes. That until he was three, every time he got out of the bath, his father would sit in the rocking chair with him while his mother found pajamas. Holding Jack to his chest to keep him warm even when the water soaked into his own shirt. 

But he trusts them. 

“There you are. I thought I’d lost you.”

The gunshot had startled him. Enough so that when Jack was running down the hall, heart leaping in his chest even though he wasn’t entirely sure why he should be so afraid, he’d frozen. Head snapping around to look to the living room, to where he knows his mother and Foyet had just been. 

Work the case. He’s supposed to be working the case. 

And on shaking knees, he’d climbed into the chest that once held the house’s blankets. The little container smelt like his father. Given that the room doubled as Jack’s playroom and his father’s study, it isn’t surprising. It’s also, in part, why Jack had always loved the old chest so much. With the comforting scent of his father all around him, there was no reason to be afraid. 

With his dad nearby, nothing can go wrong. 

There are more gunshots. They sound like fireworks. Jack raises his hands to cover his ears, closing his eyes tightly, and waiting for dad to come get him. 

Except, when that old chest creaks open, Foyet is smiling down at him. “You can’t go running off on me like that Jackie-boy. It’s rude.” Jack sits up, eyes flickering around to take in the blood all over Foyet’s face. Foyet picks Jack up, putting him down on the ground. He offers his hand down for Jack to take. “Come on, I got something to show you.”

Foyet waits patiently for Jack to climb up the stairs. He’s got short little legs, it’s a hard climb.

“You know,” Foyet says as they walk. “None of this would have had to happen if it weren’t for you daddy. I just want you to remember that, okay?” They walk past a blood streak on the carpet, Foyet watches Jack’s eyes glue to it. Turning back to look at it even as they pass it. 

“He just had to make a deal,” he continues. “None of this had to happen, Jack.” 

Jack stops in the doorway. He knows who it is laying on the floor. He smiles, at first, starting to rush forward-- then he sees the blood. It’s all over the carpet that his mother was always so worried he’d stain with juice or snacks. His father is different. His nose is wrong and his cheeks gaunter than they had been in the hospital. Discolored, too pale.

Jack lets go of Foyet’s hand, walking numbly to his father’s side. He crouches down, knees sinking into the blood seeping through the carpet’s fibers. “Daddy,” he whispers, softly. It’s the perfect mirror’s image to Saturday mornings in this very house, in this very room. 

Hotch sitting on the floor while Jack played away with blocks. Blissfully unaware of the fact that his simple content with spending time with his father was the only thing keeping Hotch from being unglued by the horrors he saw daily. Except this time when he calls for his father, Hotch does not move. He doesn’t turn and smile at the soft call of his name.

He doesn’t breathe. 

He doesn’t live. 

Jack doesn’t understand that. He does know that his father needs sleep. He’s not to bother him if he’s sleeping on the couch or to come barging into his parent’s room if he wakes up early. His father has a poor relationship with sleep and Jack understands that to a very minimal degree but he’s four so he doesn’t understand a lot of things. But he can make sense of things and this makes sense. He’s just tired.

Foyet finds his knife tossed aside on the carpet. He’d displaced it in the roughness of dealing with Hotch. “Oh,” Foyet grumbles, testing the sharpness of the blade and finding it cracked. That big dumb bastard broke his knife. “Fuck,” Foyet turns the broken knife over in his hand. Grinning when he sees he’s captured Jack’s attention and that his little eyes are glued in fear to the weapon. 

He holds it up for Jack to see better. “You know what this is?” Foyet steps towards Jack and the boy scrambles around Hotch, using his father as a barrier between himself and the man he understands to be bad. Though, hadn’t Foyet played with him not too long ago? 

That fear makes a smile spread across Foyet’s face. “It’s a knife, a hunting knife.” He points the edge down to Hotch. To his torso, chuckling when Jack’s eyes widen. Hotch’s once white dress shirt is soaked in blood. Torn flesh peaking around the holes left by Foyet retracting the knife from his chest. Wide gaping wounds that Jack can feel in his stomach. Large enough to swallow him whole. 

“I did that,” Foyet informs him, “and I’m going to do the same thing to you.” 

Jack whimpers, turning to Hotch. Waiting, knowing that Hotch will protect him and if there was a breath of life in his lungs then Hotch would come off that floor. He’d fight but… he already fought to his wit’s end and it wasn’t enough. 

It hurts. Hurts more than anything that Jack has ever experienced in his short little life. Worse than when he’d wrecked his bike. His legs had trembled under him as he’s walked back into the house, knees shredded and chest hitching as he sucked his choked hiccups in. Haley had wiped his tears and cleaned the cuts. Hotch had held him close to his chest, shushing his little sobs. 

But his parents are dead. 

Hotch doesn’t save him.

Haley doesn’t wipe away his tears. 

He’s entirely alone on the floor he once played on.

Derek Morgan walks into that room with tears clouding his vision. He chokes when he sees their bodies. The fear still etched into Jack’s face. He throws a hand over his mouth, bending over as vomit works its way up his throat. “Oh God,” he whispers. “Oh fuck.” It’s all he can do to stop the others from coming in and seeing to. 

He can hear JJ screaming, Emily’s offering pointless comfort. Her voice is trembling, her words empty. 

They weren’t fast enough. 

All that faith they’d had-- promising Hotch time and time again that they would get Foyet. Things would return to normal. Everyone would come home. And there he lays, with his son and wife, lifelessly on the floor of the home he bought thinking he would get the chance to grow old and use it.

Derek Morgan falls to his knees and forces himself to press his his fingers under Jack’s neck. Swallowing down his own sob when he finds the skin warm but no heartbeat. 

They could have saved him. 

They were almost there. 

Derek Morgan will never forgive himself for not being fast enough. If not for Aaron, if not for Haley, then for little Jack Hotchner. For the kid that Hotch had loved so much it hurt to pull him away from that boy. To see him watching Jack’s first steps from a screen. For those little oatmeal stains and the smile that would appear when Hotch noticed Jack had managed to get him the crossfire of throwing his breakfast across the kitchen.

And that joy, those soft smiles have been stolen. Gone. 

[magnoliapip]

The Storm Inside

Title : The Storm Inside

Book : Open Heart series (Choices - Pixelberry)

Description : Casey has been pushing everyone away and spiraling since the attack on the hospital and her loved ones are concerned.

Pairing : none established  / ambiguous

Characters : Open Heart FMC (Casey Valentine), Sienna Trinh, Bryce Lahela, Jackie Varma, Rafael Aviero, Elijah Greene, Aurora Emery, Kyra Santana, Danny (mentioned), Bobby (mentioned)

Warnings : mention of death, mental health

Prompt : “What’s the weather outside your window doing right now?...”

Casey stared vacantly out the floor length windows into the night sky above Boston from her seat against them on the living room floor. The sky was as clear as could be, a rarity for the area, but in a city as populous as Boston seeing the stars was a gift they were never granted. She stretched out her cramping legs to a different position as she leaned her head and left shoulder against the cool glass.

She looked out of windows with alarming frequency now. She had never really done so before, preferring to always be doing other things. She’d always thought of herself as a social person who enjoyed others company, though she could be either out dancing in a packed club or relaxing away a quiet night in with the same level of enjoyment. Friends and loved ones was all she really needed.

The attack on Edenbrook had changed everything, down to her very bones.

Some days her mood was somber but calm, like a cloudy day. Those were her best days and the ones she liked best. The cloudy days could be darker with threat of rain or lighter with the sun just missing the opportunity to come out. It was the closest to her old self she could feel. Unfortunately for her, those days were not only fleeting and the least common, they were becoming a rarity.

More often, her moods were a range of levels of sadness. All the way from a misting drizzle, enough to coat everything in water and make the air humid, to a torrentially pouring rain. Buckets from heavens and flash floods. The only thing those floods never seemed to leave clean was herself.

Other times she was cold. So, so cold. The best of those days were accompanied with a blizzard. Cold, but manageable with a shovel. On the days  where she left her heart covered in an inch thick layer of ice and brandished her words like weaponized icicles, frigid and sharp, the people around her knew to steer clear. She was getting a little too good and stabbing them where it hurt.

Her worst moods felt like she should alert the National Weather Service. Tornado warnings and hurricane evacuations were a courtesy she never felt up to extending, adding to her already astronomical guilt. Like a twister, she could feel so angry and out of control she would tear through everyone in her path with no regard for who or what was in it. She had hurt people, especially the ones she loved, deeply but couldn’t bring herself to stop. It was like watching her body act with someone else at the controls.

It was just one more thing about herself to hate lately, and it had a long line to stand in.

The weather in reality never matched what she felt inside. It fascinated and disgusted her in equal measure. It had been sunny (mostly) since the funeral. It was repulsive.

Bobby was dead. Danny was dead. Raf had almost died and would have god knew how many long term problems ahead because of the illness. She had nearly died. And the world just kept spinning.

Couldn’t they see? Couldn’t any of them see that she was stuck there in that room. That she had never recovered. That she couldn’t recover.

At first, when her friends had noticed her strange new affinity for gazing outside for hours every night, they tried to pull her away. Distract her with things like herbal teas, chocolate ice cream and support. They tried to shower her with her favorite pastimes from before. They tried dancing around the apartment to silly pop songs and playing video games with her. But they didn’t understand. And they didn’t stop.

So she bit them. Hard.

Now they left her alone.

She was an awful person. She shouldn’t have been allowed to live. Someone should have realized it at the hospital and just let her die.

She could feel the tears well up again, stinging her eyes as her inner clouds started to rain again. The night sky outside stayed perfectly cloudy.

It was going to be a long night.

Sienna stood around the corner, watching her best friend shatter silently, as she had done every night for over a month. She whispered to those behind her, “Don’t you all see? Nothing is helping and she’s getting worse. After the last time she panicked when I reached out, I thought I’d give her space. We all did. But it’s not working. Does anyone have any suggestions?”

The gathered assembly of those in the cramped penthouse hallway who loved a young doctor named Casey watched her crumble, weeping without making a sound...and no one said anything. Some of the smartest doctors in the nation, and no one had an answer.

Not Bryce, who stood off to the side watching the pain on the face of the first true friend he’d made while at Edenbrook. Someone who had looked past the brash, self-confidence he used as a shield. The first person he hadn’t been afraid of discovering his past.

Not Rafael, who stood at the back of the crowd, down the hall, not able to stand to look at the person who made him believe he was worth as much to her as these intelligent, talented and more well off friends of hers. Not as she could no longer see how much she was worth.

Not Jackie, who was used to facing her problems by cackling at them until they scurried off with tails between legs or tearing them out with her teeth. But this was a problem that required delicacy, the type she had been shown by the very woman who now needed it.

Not Ethan, who leaned against the wall as he saw his protégé, the first person he’d ever believed in this much, destroy herself. She had forced herself, her goodness, into his life and helped fix his hurt self. Now it was his turn and he, for the first time, found himself at a loss.

Not Aurora, her rival turned friend who showed her at her loneliest that having friend was worth something after all. Not Elijah, a beacon of positivity who felt entirely inadequate with this situation that left her emotionally impaired. Not Kyra, desperate to find some way to give Casey the support she had given. Not Sienna, whose heart broke as she watched her very best friend, her dolphin, her rock in many ways fall further and further into herself.

Each one of them loved her. Each one of them cared for her. Each of them had a purpose and a reason to be at Edenbrook, but Casey was the glue that had held them all together. That glue, their foundation, was compromised. This time, they needed to find a way to save her. This time, she couldn’t waltz her way into a miracle seemingly handed down by the divines themselves to fix the situation.

Giving voice to their silent thoughts, Bryce whispered softer than before, “She needs us. She has to know it. She has to know we’re here somewhere inside, but can’t ask. Won’t ask.”

“We’ve already lost so much because of the attack,” Sienna said quietly. “We can’t lose her now. I can’t.”

“None of us can,” Rafael replied softly.

There was practically a flashing beacon over Casey’s head, screaming help me please. It was long overdue for them to stop ignoring it. For a few pregnant minutes, they all looked around at each other and back to her. This mismatched band of misfits and nerds, bound this night by their affection for one single woman. They stared at each other, desperate for answers…

Until the one who loved her most went rigid. Then stepped toward the rest, speaking slowly.

“I...may have an idea.”

[BREAK]

Notes : I left the ending open for interpretation on purpose. This story is not intended to be expanded on or have a second part. Y’all can decide who the person who loves her most is (and if that person isn’t presently named in my story, you can put them there yourself :D)

Also, I want to extend a heartfelt thank you to the amazing writers I’ve talking to lately. Due to some truly awful comments and the way they were affecting me mentally, I recently purged all of my works but a few from fanfiction.net, AO3, and here on tumblr. Talking to, interacting with, and just seeing you lovelies in action has led me to believe I should start to do this again. 

Huge shout out to @jerzwriter​ and @lovealexhunt​ for being the lovely souls they are. You may have no idea who I am, especially on this blog rather than my main, but I will never stop being grateful for the positivity you put into the world. Thank you.

[utterlyinevitable]

Hey hi! Can you do a hc about what happened in the time jump for the li routes to fix this mess? Make the lack of progression make sense! please and thank you

I shall try!

Though I’m only going to do Ethan, Bryce and Rafael (TBC in another post). I have never played Jackie’s route and don’t feel comfortable speculating. 

Ethan x MC During the Time Jump 

After the gala, things seemed to be going well. Ethan dismantled the Diagnostics Team and wasn’t MC’s direct superior anymore. 

They thought everything would be fine. 

But no, Ethan was still an attending and MC a resident in the same department. 

And that kiss looked too familiar to be the first time anything happened between them. 

So people started to talk. 

Rumors started to fly about MC sleeping her way onto the best cases and Ramsey giving her preferential treatment.  “Have you seen the way he looks at Dr. Lao? Actual hearts in his eyes.” “She’s the only person he wouldn’t fire for talking back to him.”   “I saw them leave Donahue’s together once last year. You think it’s been going on since then?” 

Ethan and MC did their best to ignore the incessant gossip, they were much too busy helping as many patients as possible to pay attention. 

Two weeks after the gala the gang celebrated Thanksgiving. 

Ethan was invited and joined without pushback. 

He sat at the island talking with Sienna and Rafael as they waited for MC to arrive from her errand that was taking longer than expected. 

It wasn’t as awkward as he would have thought, getting to know MC’s group was rather enjoyable. 

Well, that was until Keiki and Bryce arrived. 

Keiki was very standoffish with Ethan, giving him the full inquisition. 

He took it in stride, brushing off every time Bryce apologized for his sister’s behavior. 

MC and Ethan spent Christmas with Alan at Ethan’s place after a long shift. They hadn’t explicitly confirmed their coupling with his father, using the cover of “having nowhere else to go” to explain why they’re spending the day together. 

Ethan had only spoken about MC and barely even touched on the depth of his feelings for her in the odd conversation with Alan about his personal life.  

Alan knew better. He sees the way his son looks at MC and how attentive he is to her needs; whether it be a new napkin or a top up without batting an eye. No to mention, this wasn’t the first time he caught them cozying up in Ethan’s kitchen. 

Word still spread around the hospital, even quicker now that Ethan and MC were confirmed to have spent the holiday together. So much, to the point that they could not ignore it any longer. 

Ethan and MC and her friends tried to squash as many rumors as possible. Telling everyone that they’ve only started dating. It was part of the truth.  “They hooked up the moment she was cleared of the toxin. One of the nurses heard them. MC is loud!”  “That’s ridiculous. MC went right to sleep the second I wheeled her out of there,” Bryce informed. “And seriously, the kiss at the gala was the first time they got frisky.” 

They were able to buy some more time. The amount of patients coming through Edenbrook’s doors tripling and keeping everyone busy. 

MC spent New Years with her friends while Ethan worked. 

He made it to her apartment just in time to kiss her at midnight. 

Eventually the most salacious of rumors made their way to the board. 

Edenbrook still had ~7 months of life left and accusations like this could not be brushed under the rug. 

Ethan was called into a meeting to assess the claims not long after. 

He blew a gasket - face and ears red with rage at the laundry list of claims brought against them.

The board threw around the notion of a sexual harassment case. 

Ethan assured them that would not be necessary. Their current relationship was more than consensual. 

The board would have loved to believe them but in the current climate they could not afford another lawsuit and are proceeding with extreme caution. 

Ethan was advised to keep distant from MC until the investigation was concluded. 

MC was called in a few days later. 

She said the same as Ethan. 

Things were awkward that entire week they had to stay away from one another to prove their point of not interfering with their professional relationship. 

The case was cleared quicker than both thought possible. Luckily, all their friends and close colleagues vouched for them. 

Ethan and MC received the email of no wrongdoing just before their shifts ended one night.

The night they got the news wasn’t the happy reunion they were expecting. 

She met Ethan at his place - ready with a set of lingerie she was saving for February. 

MC was so excited. But that all ended over takeaway when Ethan spoke of the thoughts that had plaguing him since his meeting with the board. 

Needless to say, Ethan never got to see the outfit. 

The evening ended in them arguing about where she should apply to residency and how he doesn’t want to hinder her career. 

MC stormed out and gave him the cold shoulder for a while. 

Their fight lasted well past Valentine’s Day. 

MC did send him a text to thank him for the flowers and food basket he sent. Other than that it was professional business as usual between them. 

Both Ethan and MC threw themselves into their work, letting the days turn into weeks and neither of them acknowledging their issues. 

They let the fight simmer down and let themselves down along with it. 

They didn’t fight for their relationship, they didn’t talk anymore about what it all means for them. 

MC loves Ethan and would choose him and staying in Boston for him over a better opportunity elsewhere. But after everything, she’s dejected. She’s put so much effort into their relationship over the last two years that there’s no point to fight for something he’s not willing to meet halfway on.

Ethan knows MC leads with their heart. 

That’s why he wouldn’t tell her. That’s why he couldn’t tell her he’s madly in love with her. 

He doesn’t want to ruin her career anymore than he has already, doesn’t want the rumors festering within Edenbrook to follow her wherever she ends up. Doesn’t want her to give up a very promising career for whatever this is. 

He’s also not going to admit he’s a little scared of what it means if she did stay. It’s easier for him to push her away in the name of her career than admit he’s absolutely hopeless without her. 

MC’s night on the town with her friends ended up at the helipad on top of Edenbrook. Ethan heard the commotion of their dancing and loud music and went to investigate. 

The gang invited him to join and he looked at MC for permission. 

She smiled and shrugged, the fight forgotten and the nostalgia washing over her tipsy state. 

He grabbed and beer and sat next to her. He lamented on the view and when MC told him she was glad he was here Ethan grabbed her hand. They relished the feeling of their skin on each others after what’s felt like years. 

They welcomed the silence and just being in each others company. 

Slowly the group trickled out, leaving Ethan and MC alone.  “What did you get up to tonight? Besides trespassing.”  “We did some applications then said ‘fuck it’ and went out”  He didn’t comment on application although he was itching to know where she hopes to end up. So, Ethan changed the subject, “You look beautiful. That dress really suits you.”  “Thank you.” 

They sat still in unsettled silence. The nightly breeze picking up and Ethan mindlessly rubbing circles on the back of her hand with his thumb. 

They went to speak at the same time, MC letting Ethan continue: 

“Will you come home with me?”  “Is that a good idea?”  “I’d like to make the most of the time we have left.” 

MC looked at him, their eyes locking. 

She knew it wasn’t a good idea - she’d fallen into him one too many times. Every time she was scorned.  

But maybe tonight she’s diluted her inhibitions enough to indulge in one last goodbye. 

They went back to his place and they didn’t talk at all. 

Very few words were exchanged in the seconds their lips parted. 

Small pleasantries were exchanged in the morning along with light kisses everywhere but on the mouth. 

Ethan drove her back to her place the next morning to keep prying eyes from catching them coming to work together. 

MC wished she regretted sleeping with him again. 

The moment she got out of bed she missed his heat and the way he wrapped his arms around her and nuzzled into her neck as they slept. 

It was heaven. And MC didn’t ever want to come back down. 

MC was still applying to programs all over the country, hoping she’ll find a new match somewhere. Ethan’s recommendation letter could only carry so far. 

Ever since that last evening Ethan and MC refused to acknowledge the fault staring them in the face. 

Instead, they took things one day at a time. 

They kept their friendship alive after months of ignoring one another. 

They’ve texted, they’ve almost sexted. They’ve gone out for coffee. 

But they never had another sleepover. 

Whenever they got close, their internal siren would wail “they’re leaving they’re leaving they’re leaving” and immediately someone would make an excuse to stop much to both their disappointment. 

It was for the best. They knew that. They convinced themselves to be true. 

Edenbrook’s last day came and Ethan was understandably shaken. His career he had devoted his entire life to ended. This creature of habit has to rebuild and it’s terrifying. 

He had a number of hospitals and research centers send him offers but none of them felt right. None of them were Edenbrook and none of them were the team he and his mentor built, and none of them had his favorite person. 

So Ethan was set to take a few months sabbatical; spend more time with his dad and at the opera and just enjoying the life he has been too distracted to live. 

Later that day while waiting for labs for the Bloom Case, he wanted to strangle his father for inviting MC on the quick trip to Providence. 

He also never expected her to agree. 

Ethan had never taken a woman home - and they weren’t really in that close of a place for her to nosey around his guarded past. 

It was disconcerting and strangely familiar to have MC by his side in his childhood home. His past and present meshing beautifully. 

And that scared Ethan. 

Standing in his childhood home watching Alan and MC coo over baby photos, Ethan never wanted a domestic life more. He wanted to show her everything and have her do the same. He wanted to do all this in twenty years with his own family. 

He was coveting things he had thrown away. 

And then she kissed him and for a split second no hope was lost. 

When the lights of Edenbrook finally went off that fateful day, MC grabbed his hand. 

It felt like the only thing to do. 

He was the most important part of Edenbrook - for MC Ethan was Edenbrook. 

Their romantic past aside, they became friends here. He was the reason she was here in the first place - at Edenbrook and practicing medicine. It was only fitting that he’d be at her side when this chapter closed. 

“I’m going to miss you,” she said so sincerely his heart didn’t know whether to shatter or swell.   “For what it’s worth, I feel exactly the same way about you.” 

The silence hung for a while as they watched the last of the lights switch off. 

She broke it with the most visceral question: “So. This is really it.”  “For some things.”  “And what about... other things? Am I going to see you again now that we don’t work together?” 

It was the question they’d been volleying and avoiding for months. The time came to finally put a decision to it. 

MC was still unsure where she was going. Ethan will be spending more time with his family. Things were still so complicated. 

“It’s impossible to say what the future will bring...” Ethan opted for one last life lesson to close their mentor/mentee relationship. 

Her features, mood and hopes simultaneously fell. This was really the end. 

A part of her hoped they could compromise. They only had one another a few times, there was so much more to explore between them. 

She kept her eyes glued down at their shoes, “Oh...”  “But I can see as far as tomorrow. I’ll see you then?” 

He had the ghost of a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. 

After what felt like ages, their eyes locked. Both clear as could be. 

“I’d like that.” 

MC left to meet her friends while Ethan stayed to say the emotional goodbye to his home of the last 11 years, to the place that made him who he is. 

Ethan and MC went their separate ways with a promise of tomorrow.