#let's go break the news to keith!

[amorchai]

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐕𝐄.

original post was 934 notes.

pairing(s): steve harrington x female!reader

words: 1529

warnings/tags: female!reader, pining colleagues, pet names.

steve was counting the notes from the cash register in family video when he first heard your voice, a small ‘hi’ from the other side of the counter. and while it wasn’t directed towards him, his head snapped to the side to catch a glimpse of you, and my god.

he watched as you smiled at robin who tears her glance away from her doodles against the notepad on the table and towards you, “hi there, can i help you with anything?” robin asked kindly and steve knew she was probably just as flustered as he was at the moment.

“i—uh, yes. i’m actually meant to start working here today…” you trail off nervously causing robin to grin, “oh you’re y/n? keith said you’d stop by!” robin replies, quickly tearing her glance from you and to look at steve behind her as they share a knowing look.

his hands have frozen in counting the money, it could have been ten bucks or a hundred, he was far from caring at this moment. therefore, he stuffs the notes back in the register and wipes his clammy palms against the material of his jeans before fixing his hair, quickly, in case robin noticed him and most likely outwardly teased him in front of you.

“let me show you around! my names robin, by the way,” robin was enthusiastic, turning around to walk around the counter as she begins to converse but steve jumps forward, hand stopping robin as he smiles towards you, “i can show her around, you’re front desk robin, remember?”.

robin’s eyebrows furrow with a glare following, “then you can just jump on—?” before she can continue, steve is interjecting, “—i insist, robin,” he replies with a help-me-out-here look.

robin nods with an eye roll, grudgingly moving back to her seat by the desk and uses her pen to point towards steve, “the dingus will see you now.” you look over at his dorky smile, his folded arms falling as he quickly moves out from the counter and towards you, outstretching his hand to shake yours, “steve, i’m steve harrington,” he points towards his name badge, and you giggle, “i’m y/n.”

“pretty name for a pretty girl, are you new in town?” he asks, leaning his elbow on the counter to the side as he speaks to you, robin’s eyes following as she watches steve’s lame attempts at flirting. however, from your expressions and giggling, it seems to be working.

“yes i am, moved a couple of weeks back, my cousins live here and needed a roommate,” steve nods along intently, “no college or anything?” he asks, “not yet, i took a year out after graduating school so i’ll probably apply to places near here when the time comes.” your smile quirks when he continues to nod, finding him increasingly cute and charmingly flirty.

“what about you?” you ask, causing his mouth to agape slightly in thought of what to say, “i mean— yeah, that’s basically what i’m doing; a good, swift break before going to college,” he leans further against his elbow and you can’t help but notice the blush arise in his cheeks when robin mutters under her breath and against the palm of her hand, “that’s a pretty long break, harrington.”

he clears his throat awkwardly, “there’s always time.” you nod to his statement in agreement but before you can respond, robin interjects once more leaning up to push steve's elbow from the counter and nearly sends him falling, “enough chit-chatting, don’t want keith to find out you’ve been flirting with y/n instead of teaching her the ways, do you?”.

“robin!” steve bickers back, turning away from you as his eyes widen to his best friend, utterly ashamed, “well, it’s true, you’re practically—”, “stop talking.” he sighs, trying to compose himself as he turns back towards you, “anyways, let me show you around before you start, y/n.” he goes to guide to towards the sections to one side, sending a warning glare to robin when he hears her mock his words in a low-pitched voice, yet pretending he couldn’t hear her when he turns to you.

showing you across the sections, he tries his best to pretend he’s knowledgeable and an expert at his job but given the fact he states that ‘sylvester stallone was great in breakfast club’, you thought it was safe to believe that he wasn’t. he shows you over the sections, flirty one-liners and wrong comments about the movies cause you to uncontrollably giggle beside him throughout the tour.

steve was trying, and it was unbelievably cute to watch. his big doe-y brown eyes scanning your features as a few of his light brown locks poke against his forehead, he was handsome — and also had massive arms you couldn’t help stare at whenever he pointed towards something.

“right through here,” steve murmurs while lifting the partition by the counter before allowing you to step through, he leans close to robin while you do so, “she’s been laughing at everything i say, i think there’s a chance here.”

“…a chance that she’s laughing at you? yeah, massive chance, little stevie” robin quips, turning to him with a teasing glare as he pulls back before stepping through the open partition himself. “twelve o’clock buckley, go assist the customer, i’m busy here,” steve speaks, loud enough for you to hear as he nods towards the front door where a new customer walks in.

she grunts, pointing at him warningly as she moves from her seat to leave the area, “you owe me one, dingus.” he just turns back to you with an aloof smile, “i notice not a lot of customer’s, huh?” you ask him, glancing at the nearly empty store, employees outweighing the number of customers.

“nah small town, but it’s all good, means you don’t need to do much,” steve folds his arms, hip nudging against the counter as he sends you a lopsided smile which was hard not to melt over. “does it not get boring?” you ask, “not if you’re on shift with me, sweetheart.”

you shake your head with a quick smile before he continues, “speaking of, let me just grab your schedule for this week,” he’s curious as he collects it from the back wall, steve and robin’s missing as they checked over theirs merely hours ago.

standing beside him, you ignored the feeling of his warm skin of his arm against yours as you tried to look over the weeks schedule. steve held it with one hand while his pointer finger grazed over the times curiously, a crease between his eyebrow while he analysed.

“that’s perfect! you’re on with me all week, you’ll be an expert by this saturday,” he enthuses, quickly turning over to grab his schedule laid messily across the pile of paper on the desk before holding his beside for comparison.

you tried to ignore the tug in your heart at how happy steve sounded to be on shift with you, only an hour or so of meeting each other and he was by far the most interesting person you’ve met in this town. maybe anywhere. “can’t wait,” you replied as coolly as possible.

steve passes you your own schedule while you move back to your previous spot, “do you live nearby?” steve asks you suddenly. “yeah, just ten minutes over, near the old mall?” steve nods, it was a small town of course he knew where you meant. “if you give me your address, i mean if you don’t mind, i could drive you to work? i already drive that idiot back there, and she’s probably near the same shifts as us,” he nods to robin over by the action section.

“if you’re okay with that, you don’t have to though i can—“, “i offered, sweetheart. course i don’t mind,” steve grins when you nod once again with a quiet ‘thank you’ trying to hide your giggle at his dorky nature. steve licking his lips slightly before returning to his charming grin, “no worries, pretty.”

you look down to the couple of body moles peaking from the collar of his shirt as you avert his eye contact in an attempt at hiding your smile, not noticing the way steve’s eyes gleamed at you. he was used to hitting on people upon first introductions but nothing like this, he’s never felt a flurry of dizziness quite like he did from his first glance towards you.

and it was addicting, inviting even.

then he knew, it was official, he was a goner. he realised this as he stared at your face, soft cheeks contracting as you smile lowly and he can tell you’re forcing it down as you look behind you and at the equipment behind the counter, “teach me more of the family video ways, steve.”

steve hoped he seemed cool and collected to you, because anytime you spoke to him, or smiled… or even looked at him, his mind went foggy and tried to hold back from completely breaking down. “buckle-up, buttercup,” steve replies while gesturing towards the chunky computer system.

yeah, you could definitely get used to this.

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[tavolgisvist]

Paul and Ringo's conflict in 1969/70

SG: Then, what happened? You finally got to meet with John and Yoko, and there was an all-night session at the Dorchester hotel. And something happened in that all-night session at the Dorchester that totally won their allegiance to you. AK: John said, listen, the Beatles are represented by the Eastmans, will you represent me and Yoko? SG: The Beatles’ legal affairs were represented by the Eastmans? AK: You see, you have to read that piece of paper. SG: The piece of paper the Eastmans had with the boys? AK: Oh yes. All signed. SG: All of them signed it? AK: Yes. And Apple. It never used the word management, but it didn’t have to. If you represent all the negotiations throughout the world of Apple and the Beatles, you have it. The import of that particular piece of document was that everything would have to flow through them.

(Allen Klein, 1980, interview with Peter Brown and Steven Gaines, All You Need Is Love, 2024)

John comes into the office and says, ‘Don’t care about the others, don’t give a shit … but I’m having Klein, he can have all of my stuff and get it sorted out.’

(Derek Taylor, As Time Goes By, 1973)

AK: …We were just trying to get to know one another… Lennon and Yoko, I would rather not say what won them over for me. I would think that a principal thing was the fact that they really wanted someone for themselves. Apart from the Beatles. That’s really what it was. John is a very practical human being and the conflict was there, and it was his band and he was losing control, and he didn’t want to. He wanted to be protected. It was as simple as that. That first evening that I met with John, he said, “Do you want to represent us?” I said yeah.

(Allen Klein, 1980, interview with Peter Brown and Steven Gaines, All You Need Is Love, 2024)

When the four of us entered into our partnership agreement in 1967, we did not consider the exact wording or give any thought to the agreement's legal implications. We had thought that if one of us wanted to leave the group he would only have to say so. On the way in which the four of us had sorted out our differences in the past, I deny that it had been on a three-to-one basis. If one disagreed, we discussed the problem until we reached agreement or let the matter drop. I know of no decision taken on a three-to-one basis. I deny that the Eastmans and I obstructed Mr. Allen Klein in the preparation of accounts. Nor had the Eastmans been contenders for the job of manager for the group. I wanted them as managers but when the rest of the group disagreed, had not pressed the matter. Mr. Lennon had challenged my statement that Mr. Klein had sowed discord within the group, but I recall a telephone conversation in which Mr. Klein had told me, "You know why John is angry with you? It is because you came off better than he did on Let It Be.' Mr. Klein also said to me, 'The real trouble is Yoko. She is the one with ambition.' I often wonder what John would have said if he heard the remark.

(From Paul McCartney’s affidavit, Feb 26 1971, The Beatles Diary. Volume 2. After The Break Up. 1970-2001. Keith Badman)

I was very upset when they said I was just trying to bring in Lee Eastman, because he’s my in-law. As if I’d just bring in a member of the family, for no reason. They’d known me twenty years, yet they thought that. I couldn’t believe it. John said, ‘Magical Mystery Tour was just a big ego trip for Paul.’ God. It was for their sake, to keep us together, keep us going, give us something new to do…

(Paul McCartney, Private Call with Hunter Davies, May 1981)

Klein keeps saying that I don’t like him because I want Eastman to manage the Beatles,’ he said. ‘Well, this is how it really happened. I thought, and still think, that Linda’s father would have been good for us all. And I decided I wanted him. But all the others wanted Klein. Well, all right, they can have Klein, but I don’t see that I have to agree with them. ‘I don’t think I need a manager in the old sense that Brian Epstein was our manager. All I want are paid advisers, who will do what I want them to do. And that’s what I’ve got. If the others want Klein, well, that’s up to them, but I’ve never signed a contract with him. He doesn’t represent me. I’m sure Eastman is better for me.

(Paul McCartney, interview, Evening Standard, April 21-22, 1970)

In fact, there was one classic little meeting when we were recording Abbey Road. It was a Friday evening session, and I was sitting there, and I’d heard a rumor from Neil or someone that there was something funny going around. So we got to the session, and Klein came in. To me, he was like a sort of demon that would always haunt my dreams. He got to me. Really, it was like I’d been dreaming of him as a dentist. He came round to the session, and he said, “I gotta have this thing signed, I gotta get you guys on a contract,” and then so I said, “Wait a minute, c’mon, it’s Friday night, what’s the hurry? Give us the thing over the weekend, and we’ll let ya know Monday?” Fair enough? And everyone said, “Uh-huh, there he goes.” ... John said, “Oh, fucking hell, here you go, stalling again.” I said, “I’m not stalling, I want it checked out. It’s a big movement, going with a new manager, you know, and maybe we don’t want to go with this guy. What’s the hurry? Why can’t he wait?”

(Paul McCartney, 1980 - All You Need Is Love: The End of the Beatles by Peter Brown and Steven Gaines, 2024)

‘Security is the only thing I want. Money to do nothing with, money to have in case you wanted to do something.’

(Paul McCartney (1964) in Love Me Do! The Beatles’ Progress by Michael Braun, 1964/1995)

They said, “Oh no, typical of you, all that stalling and what. Got to do it now.” I said, “Well, I’m not going to. I demand at least the weekend. I’ll look at it, and on Monday. This is supposed to be a recording session, after all.” I dug me heels in, and they said, right, well, we’re going to vote it. I said, “No, you’ll never get Ringo to.” I looked at Ringo, and he kind of gave me this sick look like, Yeah, I’m going with them.Then I said, “Well, this is like bloody Julius Caesar, and I’m being stabbed in the back!” It’s the first time you realize in our whole relationship that whenever we voted, we never actually had come to that point before—three were going to vote one down. That was the first time, and they all signed it, they didn’t need my signature.

(Paul McCartney, 1980 - All You Need Is Love: The End of the Beatles by Peter Brown and Steven Gaines, 2024)

Steve Miller happened to be there recording, late at night, and he just breezed in. ‘Hey, what’s happening, man? Can I use the studio?’ ‘Yeah!’ I said. ‘Can I drum for you? I just had a fucking unholy argument with the guys there.’ I explained it to him, took ten minutes to get it off my chest. So I did a track, he and I stayed that night and did a track of his called My Dark Hour. I thrashed everything out on the drums. There’s a surfeit of aggressive drum fills, that’s all I can say about that. We stayed up until late. I played bass, guitar and drums and sang backing vocals. It’s actually a pretty good track. It was a very strange time in my life and I swear I got my first grey hairs that month. I saw them appearing. I looked in the mirror, I thought, I can see you. You’re all coming now. Welcome.

(Paul McCartney in Many Years From Now by Barry Miles, 1997)

The nature of The Beatles’ management deal with Allen Klein remains a source of annoyance to McCartney: “I kept saying, ‘Don’t give Allen Klein 20 per cent, give him 15, we’re a big act!’ And everyone’s going, ‘No, no, he wants 20 per cent’. I say, ‘Of course he does, he wants 30, really, but give him 15. It’s like buying a car. You don’t give the guy what he asks for.’ But it was impossible in the end, because it became three to one and I was like the idiot in the corner – trying, I thought, to save the situation.” “And to Klein it looked like I was trying to screw the situation. He used to call me the Reluctant Virgin. I said ‘Fuck off, I don’t want to fucking marry you, that’s all.’ He’s going, ‘Oh, you know, he may, maybe he will, will he, won’t he, that’s a definite maybe.’

(Paul McCartney, Dec 2003, interview with Paul Du Noyer for The Word)

Q: He was once quoted in New York magazine as saying he was going to roast your ass. А: Yeah, well, he never did, you know, and that’s cool. He wouldn’t get near my ass to roast it, anyway. Punk.

(Paul McCartney, Jan 1974, interview with Paul Gambaccini for Rolling Stone)

[Allen] Klein came to London with the sole objective of closing the deal, and having had an unsuccessful meeting with Paul in the morning, he left for Heathrow to return home to New York. Paul and I were working together in Olympic that afternoon, and there was a noticeable sense of relief when he heard that Klein had left for the airport. However, Klein had second thoughts about leaving and decided to have one more attempt at changing Paul’s mind face-to-face. Unannounced, Klein walked into the studio, and very quickly it became apparent that as voices were raised a private conversation was taking place. I turned off all the mics in the room and left them to it. The control room of a studio is isolated from the recording room where the musicians play, but even all that acoustic treatment was not enough to prevent me hearing Paul McCartney defend himself against Allen Klein’s attempt at bullying him into submission. It was extremely unpleasant to witness.

(Glyn Johns, Sound Man: A Life Recording Hits with the Rolling Stones, the Who, Led Zeppelin, the Eagles, Eric Clapton, the Faces…, 2014)

I never much liked authority. I didn't like school teachers or critics telling me what I could do. Or myself telling me. I'm alive - do it!

(Paul McCartney, March 2001, interview with Nicci Gerrard for the Observer)

And the thing is, of course, you know that when you’ve got a daddy, it is nice. If you’re a little bit sort of worried as to what to do next, and your daddy says, [claps hands] “What are you worried about? Hey John, what do you want, son? You want a house? [claps hands] You got it.”

(Paul McCartney, November 11th, 1971, interview with Chris Charlesworth for Melody Maker)

They talk Klein’s script. John Lennon once said to Allen Klein, “So what do I do now, Allen?” You know, I mean, these are all – I’d say there are certain little things, you know, and… brought together in one big thing, it does look a bit sort of heavily that way. It’s not [inaudible]. But it’s all true, you know. It’s not… John did say that. And it indicates something that he’s just turned to Allen and said, “Well, what do I do now?” And that’s the kind of role that Klein is playing for them all now.

(Paul McCartney, November 11th, 1971, interview with Chris Charlesworth for Melody Maker)

The build-up is the thing — All these things continuously happening making me feel like I’m a junior with the record company, like Klein is the boss and I’m nothing. Well, I’m a senior. I figure my opinion is as good as anyone’s, especially when it’s my thing. And it’s emotional. You feel like you don’t have any freedom. I figured I’d have to stand up for myself eventually or get pushed under.

(Paul McCartney, 1970, interview with Richard Merryman for Life Magazine, published in April 16 1971)

When the Bea­tles were falling apart in 1969, he suffered from depression – staying in bed, forgoing shav­ing, drinking too much, taking consolation in little beyond his marriage to Linda Eastman.

(Paul McCartney, Nov 2013, interview with Jonah Weiner for Rolling Stones)

PAUL: As far as I was concerned, yeah, I would have liked the Beatles never to have broken up. I wanted to get us back on the road doing small places, then move up to our previous form and then go and play. Just make music, and whatever else there was would be secondary. But it was John who didn’t want to. He had told Allen Klein the new manager he and Yoko had picked late one night that he didn’t want to continue. … PAUL: And he said, “I wasn’t going to tell you until after I signed the Capitol thing, but I’m leaving the group.” And that was really it. The cat amongst the pigeons. … PAUL: We weren’t going to say anything about it for months, for business reasons. But the really hurtful thing to me was that John was really not going to tell us. I think he was heavily under the influence of Allen Klein. And Klein, so I heard, had said to John – the first time anyone had said it – “What does Yoko want?” So since Yoko liked Klein because he was for giving Yoko anything she wanted, he was the man for John. That’s my theory on how it happened.

(Paul and Linda McCartney, interview for Playboy, December 1984)

For the first time in my life, I was on the scrap heap, in my own eyes. An unemployed worker might have said, “Hey, you still have the money. That’s not as bad as we have it.” But to me, it didn’t have anything to do with money. It was just the feeling, the terrible disappointment of not being of any use to anyone anymore. It was a barreling, empty feeling that just rolled across my soul, and it was… I’d never experienced it before. Drugs had shown me little bits here and there – they had rolled across the carpet once or twice, but I had been able to get them out of my mind. In this case, the end of the Beatles, I really was done in for the first time in my life. Until then, I really was a kind of cocky sod. It was the first time I’d had a major blow to my confidence. When my mother died, I don’t think my confidence suffered. It had been a terrible blow, but I didn’t feel it was my fault.

(Paul and Linda McCartney, interview for Playboy, December 1984)

“At a certain point I asked myself, ‘Are you going to sit around doing nothing, or are you going to make some music again?’ So I’d be at home sitting around, doing some­thing on guitar, and Linda would say, ‘Oh, I didn’t know you could do that!’ Then I’d be drumming – ‘I didn’t know you could do that!’ So I got back into it just to impress Linda, really. I wanted to prove my usefulness again.”

(Paul McCartney, Nov 2013, interview with Jonah Weiner for Rolling Stones)

"The thing about Paul," George says, "is that apart from the personal problem of it all, he's having a wonderful time. He's going riding and he's got horses and he's got a farm in Scotland and he's happier with his family. And I can dig that."

(George Harrison, 1970, interview with Al Aronowitz)

Paul was already thinking about recording again. Never happy unless he was making music andwiththe Beatles not functioning, probably extinct, Paul began recording tracks for a solo album… Paul had been given a release date by Neil Aspinall [April 10, 1970 at first and April 17 later when Paul agreed to one week delay for help sales of Ringo Starr’s album “Sentimental Journey“, scheduled to be released on March 27] and he built the project around meeting the various deadlines that entailed: handing in a final mix tape, designing and proofing the cover art, approving test pressings and so on. Working with the artist Gordon House and the designer Roger Huggett, whom he still uses, Paul and Linda put the entire thing together at home. Paul: "I was feeling quite comfortable, the more I went on like this. I could actually do something again. Then I rang up Apple one day and said, "Still okay for the release date?" and they said, "No, we're changing it. You got put back now. We're going to release Let It Be first.""

(Paul McCartney, Many Years From Now by Barry Miles)

GEORGE: "But it's more of a personal thing, you know. That's down to the management situation, you know, with Apple. Because Paul, really - It was his idea to do Apple, and once it started going Paul was very active in there. And then it got really chaotic and we had to do something about it. When we started doing something about it, obviously Paul didn't have as much say in the matter, and then he decided… you know, because he wanted Lee Eastman his in-laws to run it and we didn't. Then that's the only reason, you know. That's the whole basis. But that's only a personal problem that he'll have to get over because that's… The reality is that he's out-voted and we're a partnership. We've got these companies which we all own 25 percent of each, and if there's a decision to be made then, like in any other business or group you have a vote, you know. And he was out-voted 3 to 1 and if he doesn't like it, it's really a pity…"

(George Harrison, May 1th 1970, interview with Howard Smith at WABC-FM radio in New York City)

Paul: They eventually sent Ringo round to my house at Cavendish with a message: "We want you to put your release date back, it's for the good of the group" and all of this sort of shit, and he was giving me the party line, they just made him come round, so I did something I'd never done before, or since: I told him to get out. I had to do something like that in order to assert myself because I was just sinking. Linda was very helpful, she was saying, "Look, you don't have to take this crap, you're a grown man, you have every bit as much right …" I was getting pummelled about the head, in my mind anyway.

(Paul McCartney, Many Years From Now by Barry Miles)

Dear Paul, we thought a lot about yours and the Beatles LPs – and decided it’s stupid for Apple to put out two big albums within 7 days of each other (also there’s Ringo’s and Hey Jude) – so we sent a letter to EMI telling them to hold your release date til June 4th (there’s a big Apple-Capitol convention in Hawaii then). We thought you’d come round when you realized that the Beatles album was coming out on April 24th. We’re sorry it turned out like this – it’s nothing personal. Love John & George. Hare Krishna. A Mantra a Day Keeps MAYA Away.

(The letter from John and George to Paul, March 31th, 1970)

As a director of Apple, he had had to sign a letter that he wrote with John ordering Paul not to release his McCartney album on a day that would conflict with the release of the next Beatles record, Let It Be. When the letter was finished, Ringo had volunteered to deliver it because he didn't want Paul to suffer the indignity of having it handed to him by some impersonal messenger. At Paul's house, he gave the letter to Paul and said, "I agree with it."

(George Harrison, 1970, interview with Al Aronowitz)

“I went to see Paul. To my dismay, he went completely out of control, shouting at me, prodding his fingers towards my face, saying: 'I’ll finish you now’ and 'You’ll pay.’ He told me to put my coat on and get out. I did so.”

(Ringo, during 1971 Beatles court proceedings)

Ringo Starr said in his statement: “Paul is the greatest bass guitarist in the world.” But he added that he thought Paul had behaved like a spoiled child.

(Daily Mirror, February 24, 1971 - about the third day of the Court Case for the dissolution of The Beatles’ contractual partnership)

Then he had to stand there while both Paul and his wife, Linda, screamed at him. When Ringo returned from delivering the letter, he was so drained his face was white.

(George Harrison, 1970, interview with Al Aronowitz)

[John Lennon and George Harrison] didn’t send me round. They, as directors of the company, wrote a letter to him, and I didn’t think it was fair that some office lad should take something like that around. I was talking to the office, and they were telling me what was going on, and I said, ‘Send it up, I’ll take it round’. I couldn’t fear him then. But he got angry, because we were asking him to hold his album back and the album was very important to him. He shouted and pointed at me. He told me to get out of his house. He was crazy; he went crazy. He was out of control, prodding his finger towards my face. He told me to put my coat on and get out. I couldn’t believe it was happening. I had just brought the letter. I said, ‘I agree with everything that’s in the letter’, because we tried to work it like a company, not as individuals. I put my album [Sentimental Journey] out two weeks before [released 27 March 1970, in compliance with the original schedule], which makes me seem like such a good guy, but it wasn’t really, because I needed to put it out before Paul’s album, else it would have slayed me!

(Ringo Starr, 1971, from “The Beatles: Off the Record” by Keith Badman)

‘Strictly speaking we all have to ask each other’s permission before any of us does anything without the other three. My own record nearly didn’t come out because Klein and some of the others thought it would be too near to the date of the next Beatles album. I had to get George, who’s a director of Apple, to authorise its release for me. ‘Give us our freedom which we so richly deserve.

(Paul McCartney, April 21-22, 1970, Interview for the Evening Standard)

On the radio, they're playing Paul's album now. George may be the youngest of the Beatles but his attitude toward Paul is the same as a big brother trying to wait out a kid's tantrum because the kid can't get the candy he wants. He talks about the last time Paul spoke to him on the phone. "He came on like Attila the Hun," George says. "I had to hold the receiver away from my ear." It was as if the whole world was waiting for Paul's album and George was standing in its way. "I don't want to say anything bad about Paul," George laughs, "but I can be egged on."

(George Harrison, 1970, interview with Al Aronowitz)

From my point of view, I was getting done in. All the decisions were now three against one. And that’s not the easiest position if you’re the one: anything I wanted to do they could just say, ‘No.’ And it was just to be awkward, I thought. … I got so fed up with all this I said, ‘OK, I want to get off the label.’ Apple Records was a lovely dream, but I thought, ‘Now this is really trashy and I want to get off.’ I remember George on the phone saying to me, ‘You’ll stay on this fucking label! Hare Krishna!’ and he hung up – and I went, ‘Oh, dear me. This is really getting hairy.’

(Paul McCartney, The Beatles Anthology, 2000)

PAUL: I didn't want to do a press conference to launch the album because whenever I'd meet a journalist, they always floored me with one question: they'd say, "Are you happy?"' and it almost made me cry. I just could not say, "Yes. I'm happy," and lie through my teeth, so I stopped doing interviews. Peter Brown, who was at Apple at that time, said, "What are you going to do about publicity?"' I said, "I don't really want to do any." He said, "It's a new album. You'll kill it. Nobody'll even know it's out at all. You should do something." I said "Well, how do you suggest we do it?"' He said, "Maybe a questionnaire?"' I said, "Okay, look, you write some questions that you think the press wants to know. Send 'em over to me and I'll fill it out but I can't face a press conference." So the questionnaire came, and Peter Brown realised that the big question was the Beatles so he put in a couple of loaded questions and rather that just say, "I don't want to answer these," I thought, Fuck it. If that's what he wants to know, I'll tell him. I felt I'd never be able to start a new life until I'd told people.

(Paul McCartney, Many Years From Now by Barry Miles)

It is 1970. Paul still doesn’t like Klein but John digs him more than ever and George digs him more than that and Ringo doesn’t mind him. Paul? He is so uptight about Klein he only leaves the Beatles, that’s all. Klein and me meet the press and TV and all that; together we sit on a sofa and talk about Paul. Mr Klein, why doesn’t Paul like you? Mr Taylor, why doesn’t Paul like Mr Klein? I don’t know, don’t ask me, man, don’t ask me. Paul releases his album and Klein releases the Beatles’ album and they both make a million and Klein has had Phil Spector remix Paul’s song ‘The Long and Winding Road’, adding a women’s choir and some violins etc. Paul thinks this is the shittiest thing anyone has ever done to him and that is saying something, but Klein laughs up his silk sleeve and releases ‘Long and Winding Road’ as a single anyway and still with Phil’s new arrangement. Up there in Scotland, Paul McCartney, one of the four owners of Apple, the company formed to give total freedom, artistic control, to struggling performers and writers, wonders what went wrong, when even he can’t control his own work.

(Derek Taylor, As Time Goes By, 1973)

Q: "The album was not known about until it was nearly completed. Was this deliberate?" A: "Yes, because normally an album is old before it even comes out. (A side) Witness 'Get Back.'" … Q: "Is it true that neither Allen Klein nor ABKCO have been nor will be in any way involved with the production, manufacturing, distribution or promotion of this new album?" A: "Not if I can help it." Q: "Did you miss the other Beatles and George Martin? Was there a moment when you thought, 'I wish Ringo were here for this break?'" A: "No."

(Paul McCartney, April 9th 1970, press release 'McCartney')

Derek Taylor, the Beatles' press officer, is with us, talking about how unexpected Paul's attack had been. "He was only supposed to write out information explaining how he made the album,? Derek says. "Instead, he hands us this interview in which he asks himself questions, such as would he miss Ringo? It was entirely gratuitous. Nobody asked him that question. He asked that question of himself."

(George Harrison, 1970, interview with Al Aronowitz)

We’re beginning now to only call each other when we have bad news. The other day Ringo came around to see me with a letter from the others, and I called him everything under the sun. But it’s all business. I don’t want to fall out with Ringo. I like Ringo. I think he’s great. We’re all talking about peace and love, but really we’re not feeling peaceful at all. ‘There’s no one who’s to blame. We were fools to get ourselves into this situation in the first place. But it’s not a comfortable situation for me to work in as an artist.’

(Paul McCartney, April 21-22, 1970, Interview for the Evening Standard)

We all started on a bus and small clubs and things like that, but Paul is that type of person. Paul wanted to do it all over again, and he did. And he went through hell. He went through hell. I mean, now he’s not talking to me and that’s too bad, but he started again from the bottom to do the Paul McCartney show. I don’t wanna do it anymore. I did it once.

(Ringo Sarr, 1980, interview with Peter Brown and Steven Gaines, All You Need Is Love, 2024)

[callsigns-haze]

A pilot? Again?

Pairing: Jake Seresin X detective, single mom reader

After investigating a crash at Top Gun for four hours, Detective Y/N, who lost her husband Daniel four years ago, finds no evidence of foul play and deems the case closed. During her time there, she reconnects with Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, Daniel's younger brother, and meets his charming wingman, Jake "Hangman" Seresin. Hangman flirts with Y/N as he walks her to her car, and for the first time in years, she feels comfortable with the attention. Before leaving, Y/N gives him her card with her number, leaving the door open for future contact. Hangman promises to text, sparking the potential for a new chapter in her life.

This chapter contains references to past personal loss and emotional themes. It features characters dealing with grief and the aftermath of a tragic event.

Two Weeks of Silence

It had been two weeks since the funeral, but the house was still suffocating. The silence was unbearable, the only sounds coming from the occasional babble of 14-month-old Keith or the quiet shuffle of Logan, who had been eerily quiet since his father’s death. It was as if the life had been drained from the walls along with Daniel "Griffin" Bradshaw, Bradley’s older brother by two years.

Y/N stood in the kitchen, gripping the counter with trembling hands, her back turned to the door. The numbness hadn’t left. It clung to her like a second skin, tightening with every passing day. She had held it together at the funeral—everyone had said she was so strong. Strong for the kids. But now, without the distraction of people offering meaningless words, she felt nothing but an empty ache.

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw had been coming over almost every day since the funeral. Not that she’d asked him to. He just showed up, like he was trying to step into Daniel’s shoes. But he wasn’t Daniel. He never would be.

She heard the familiar creak of the door behind her. She didn’t bother turning around. She already knew who it was.

“Y/N,” Bradley said, his voice quiet but rough, the usual edge missing.

“What is it, Bradley?” she asked, her tone sharper than she intended.

“I came to check on you,” he said, stepping into the kitchen with a heavy sigh.

Y/N gritted her teeth and turned to face him, her arms crossed. She looked exhausted—dark circles under her eyes, her face pale and drawn. “You don’t have to keep coming here, you know. I’m not your responsibility.”

Bradley’s jaw tightened. He didn’t like the way she was pushing him away, but he wasn’t about to argue with her. Not now. Not after everything. “I know. But I’m here anyway.”

She let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. “Right. You’re always here.”

Bradley stared at her, his eyes flicking to the half-empty bottle of whiskey sitting on the counter. “Have you slept at all?”

“Why does it matter?” she snapped. “Sleep doesn’t change anything. Daniel’s still dead. I’m still stuck here raising these boys on my own. You think a nap’s going to fix that?”

Bradley didn’t flinch. He just nodded, the muscles in his jaw working as he tried to keep his emotions in check. “No. It won’t.”

Y/N turned away from him again, her eyes stinging with unshed tears. Keith’s babbling came from the living room, a small reminder that her youngest son needed her, even though she felt like she had nothing left to give. Logan, too, had been withdrawn, watching everything in silent confusion. He was too young to understand why his father wasn’t coming home, but old enough to sense the weight of what had happened.

“What am I supposed to tell them, Bradley?” she asked, her voice breaking slightly. “What do I say to Logan when he asks about his dad? That he died on some mission that went sideways? That he’s never coming back? When I do he asks why. How am I meant to know!?”

Bradley exhaled sharply, running a hand over his face. “I don’t know, Y/N. I wish I had the answers. But Logan’s going to need you to be honest with him. You can’t shield him from it forever.”

She let out a shaky breath, blinking rapidly to fight back the tears. “He’s only seven, Bradley. He shouldn’t have to grow up like this.”

Bradley stepped closer, his voice softening. “You’re right. He shouldn’t. But he’s tough—just like his dad. And you’re tougher than you think.”

Y/N shook her head, her voice barely above a whisper. “It'll ruin the kid. I’m just so damn tired.”

Bradley stood there, not sure what to say. He wasn’t good at this—the comforting, the emotional stuff. That had always been Daniel’s role. But Daniel wasn’t here anymore, and Bradley was all Y/N had left. He stepped forward, cautiously, until he was right next to her.

“You don’t have to do it alone,” he said quietly. “I’m here for you. For Logan. For Keith.”

Y/N didn’t respond at first, just kept staring at the floor, the weight of everything crushing down on her. After a long pause, she finally spoke, her voice tight with suppressed emotion.

“You’re not Daniel, Bradley. You were barely ever here before that either.”

The words cut deep, but Bradley nodded, accepting them for what they were. He wasn’t Daniel. He couldn’t replace his brother, no matter how hard he tried. But he could be there for the family Daniel had left behind.

“I know,” Bradley said quietly. “But I’m still here.”

Y/N finally looked up at him, her eyes red and tired. There was no fight left in her, no anger, just a raw, aching grief that mirrored his own.

“Logan asked me yesterday if his dad was a hero,” she said, her voice barely audible.

Bradley’s throat tightened. “What did you say?”

She swallowed hard, her gaze dropping to the floor. “I didn’t know what to say. Fourteen times in my life I accused pilots of doing something wrong but never Daniel. I just told him… I told him his dad loved him. That was all I could get out.”

Bradley nodded slowly, his chest aching with a familiar sense of loss. “It’s enough. Logan doesn’t need the details. He just needs to know that his dad loved him. That’s what matters.”

Y/N’s eyes met his again, and for the first time since Daniel’s death, there was something other than anger or numbness there. Maybe it was acceptance. Maybe it was just exhaustion. But she didn’t push him away this time.

“I don’t know how to do this,” she admitted quietly.

“You don’t have to figure it all out today,” Bradley replied. “Just take it one day at a time. I’ll be here. For whatever you need.”

Y/N nodded, her shoulders slumping as the weight of it all threatened to overwhelm her again. But this time, Bradley was there, standing beside her, ready to catch her if she fell.

And maybe, just maybe, that was enough for now.

-----

Four years had passed since Daniel’s death, and life had moved on, even if it still carried the scars of that day. Y/N had thrown herself into her work, rising through the ranks until she became a detective, often working with specialized units like CSI. Her job demanded precision, focus, and a cool head under pressure—traits she’d developed while learning to balance being a widow and a mother to two boys.

It was 6:00 AM, and the alarm blared from her phone. Y/N groaned, stretching in her bed before she turned it off and rubbed her eyes. Another day, another case to solve. She threw the covers off and padded to the bathroom.

Standing in front of the mirror, she stared at herself. She turned on the faucet and grabbed her toothbrush, squeezing a small amount of minty toothpaste onto the bristles. The rhythmic motion of brushing her teeth was oddly soothing, a routine that anchored her at the start of each day. She brushed methodically, starting from the back molars, working her way to the front, the fresh taste of mint chasing away the dregs of sleep. After rinsing, she ran her tongue over her teeth, appreciating the smooth, clean feeling.

Next, she grabbed her brush and began working through her hair. Her hair had grown longer than she usually kept it, but she liked the way it looked now—professional but still a little wild. She worked through a few tangles, brushing from the roots to the ends until her hair was soft and smooth. She tied it back into a sleek ponytail, the style that was both functional and neat for her long days on the job.

Returning to the bedroom, Y/N opened her closet. She ran her fingers over the hangers, choosing a black tailored blazer and matching pants. A crisp white blouse underneath kept the look sharp but professional. Sliding the pants on first, she tucked in her blouse and fastened the blazer, making sure everything sat perfectly. She moved over to the full-length mirror by the closet door, adjusting her collar and sleeves. Her badge was clipped to the belt, a constant reminder of the responsibility she carried.

Finally, she walked over to the small safe tucked discreetly in her nightstand drawer. She spun the dial, opening the metal door with a quiet click. Inside sat her standard-issue Glock. The cold metal felt familiar in her hand as she checked it over, ensuring it was loaded and ready. She slipped the gun into its holster at her side, concealed beneath her blazer. One last glance in the mirror—she looked like a detective ready to take on whatever the day threw at her.

But before she could leave the house, there was one more challenge: waking up her boys.

Y/N headed down the hall to Logan’s room. At eleven, Logan was already turning into a miniature version of his father. He had Daniel’s stubbornness, for sure, and waking him up in the morning had become something of a battle over the years.

She knocked gently on the door. “Logan, it’s time to get up.”

There was no response. She sighed, opening the door and stepping into the room. Logan was buried under his blankets, only the top of his messy brown hair visible. His room was a mess, toys and clothes scattered across the floor, his desk cluttered with books and school papers.

“Logan,” Y/N said again, this time with more authority. “Get up. You’ve got school.”

A muffled groan came from beneath the blankets. “Five more minutes,” he mumbled.

Y/N smirked, walking over to the bed and gently pulling the covers down. Logan blinked up at her, his face creased from the pillow, eyes squinting in the early morning light.

“You said that yesterday,” she said, tapping his shoulder. “Come on. You don’t want to miss the bus.”

Logan groaned again, rolling over onto his back. “I’m not a morning person, Mom. You know that.”

“I do know that,” Y/N replied, crossing her arms. “But it doesn’t change the fact that you have to get up. Now.”

With a dramatic sigh, Logan finally sat up, rubbing his eyes. He stretched, his arms reaching above his head, and yawned loudly. “Fine, fine. I’m up.”

“Good,” Y/N said, walking back to the door. “Get dressed. Breakfast is in ten minutes.”

Logan gave a half-hearted nod, already shuffling towards his closet as Y/N left the room, leaving him to his slow morning routine.

Next was Keith. At five years old, he was still small and full of energy, but mornings weren’t his strong suit either. Y/N stepped into his room, where Keith was curled up in his bed, clutching his favourite stuffed animal—a well-worn bear named Buddy.

“Keith, time to wake up,” she said softly, kneeling beside his bed.

Keith stirred, his big brown eyes fluttering open as he looked up at her. He yawned, stretching his tiny arms out as he rubbed at his eyes. “Morning, Mama.”

“Good morning, sweetheart,” Y/N said with a smile. “Let’s get you ready for school, okay?”

Keith nodded sleepily, still half-asleep as Y/N helped him sit up. She pulled out a pair of pants and a T-shirt from his dresser, guiding him through getting dressed. His little fingers fumbled with the shirt buttons, so she crouched down and helped him fasten them.

Once he was dressed, she scooped him up and carried him to the bathroom, setting him down gently on the step stool by the sink. Keith blinked blearily as Y/N handed him his toothbrush, squeezing a bit of kid-friendly toothpaste onto the bristles.

“Here you go, buddy. Let’s brush those teeth.”

Keith obediently brushed, though his movements were slow and clumsy. Y/N kept a watchful eye, making sure he didn’t miss any spots. Once they were done, she wiped his mouth with a washcloth and gave him a quick kiss on the forehead.

“All set, champ. You’re ready for the day.”

Keith smiled, still a little groggy but looking more awake now. He reached for her hand as they left the bathroom, heading downstairs to join Logan for breakfast.

Y/N leaned against the kitchen counter, sipping her coffee and watching as her boys sat at the table. It was a non-uniform day at their school, which always meant a little more chaos in the morning, especially with Keith's boundless energy. The five-year-old was practically vibrating in his seat, bouncing up and down as he eagerly shovelled toast into his mouth.

"Keith, slow down," Logan said in a calm but firm voice, his tone carrying the weight of someone much older. At eleven, Logan had always been the quieter, more serious one—a reflection of his father in so many ways. While his younger brother practically buzzed with energy, Logan was a calm presence, though he often seemed like he was carrying the weight of the world on his small shoulders. she told Bradley everything would ruin him.

Keith barely paid attention, his legs swinging wildly under the table. “But it’s a non-uniform day! We don’t have to wear the stupid ties and stuff! And we’re bringing money to school! Can we buy sweets, Mama?”

Y/N smiled at the contrast between her two boys. Keith was practically bursting with excitement, his eyes wide and full of life. Meanwhile, Logan sat quietly in front of his cereal, poking at the milk with his spoon, his face expressionless.

“I gave Logan a tenner,” Y/N said, looking at her older son. “He’ll pay for both of you.”

Logan sighed and pushed his hair back, not too thrilled about his role as the responsible older brother but accepting it with his usual calm. “I’ll take care of it,” he said in his usual, even tone. “But Keith, you’ve gotta calm down. You’re gonna knock something over.”

Keith, of course, ignored the warning. “Can we buy, like, five packs of candy, Logan? And maybe some chocolate too!”

Logan raised an eyebrow. “No. That’s not what it’s for. We’re paying for the non-uniform day, not having a candy shopping spree.”

Keith pouted dramatically, crossing his arms over his chest, but he didn’t argue back. He knew better. “Fine,” he muttered, but within seconds, he was back to fidgeting in his seat, still brimming with excitement.

Y/N shook her head in amusement. “Logan’s right. The money is for school, not to load up on sweets. But maybe I’ll get you something after school if you both behave, okay?”

Keith perked up immediately. “Okay, Mama!”

Logan merely nodded, his expression unchanging. He took a slow bite of his cereal, clearly not as enthusiastic about the day as his younger brother. Y/N knew it wasn’t just about today—Logan had always been more introspective, more serious. He carried a quiet sadness sometimes, though he didn’t like to talk about it much. She knew he missed his father, even if he didn’t say it aloud. The weight of responsibility that had fallen on his young shoulders wasn’t something a boy his age should have to deal with.

Y/N glanced at the clock on the wall, mentally going through her schedule for the day. “I’ve got to work until four today,” she said, placing her mug down on the counter. “So Penny’s going to pick you both up from school, and you’ll hang out with Amelia until I’m off. That okay with you guys?”

Keith immediately bounced in his seat again. “Yay! I love hanging out with Amelia! She’s gonna let me play her video games, right? She said she would last time!”

Logan just nodded, taking another slow bite of his cereal. “That’s fine,” he said, his tone still calm and measured. “We’ll be okay.”

Y/N walked over and ruffled Logan’s hair, earning a slight frown from him as he smoothed it back down. “I know you will. You’re always a big help with Keith.”

Keith grinned at his brother, clearly not picking up on the subtle tension in Logan’s face. “Logan’s the best!” he shouted, practically bouncing out of his chair now. “He’s gonna let me sit with him at lunch too!”

Logan sighed softly, glancing at his younger brother. “Yeah, sure. Just… calm down, okay?”

Y/N chuckled, finishing the last of her coffee before setting the cup down. She leaned against the counter, watching her boys—so different from each other, but in some ways, inseparable. Keith was a bright light, always full of energy and joy, while Logan had become her steady, serious boy, even though she wished he’d let himself be a kid more often.

“Alright, you two. Finish up your breakfast and get your shoes on. We need to leave in ten minutes,” Y/N said, gently nudging them along.

Keith practically jumped out of his chair, already halfway to the hallway to grab his sneakers, while Logan moved with his usual calm, taking his time to finish his cereal before he stood up.

Y/N glanced at Logan, her heart aching just a little as she watched him. “Logan,” she said softly, causing him to pause and look up at her. “You don’t always have to be the grown-up, you know. It’s okay to just… be a kid.”

Logan shrugged, his eyes dropping to the floor. “I know,” he said, but there was a distance in his voice, like he wasn’t quite convinced.

Y/N sighed softly, resisting the urge to push further. Logan was like that—quiet, introspective. He’d open up when he was ready, and she’d be there when he did.

“Alright, let’s go,” she said with a smile, trying to lighten the mood. “Non-uniform day and no rushing. It’s a good start to the day, don’t you think?”

Logan gave a small, barely noticeable nod, and together they all headed out the door, Keith still chattering excitedly about his plans for the day while Logan walked quietly beside him, always the calm to his little brother’s storm.

---

Y/N had barely finished her second cup of coffee when her phone buzzed with a new case. She was standing in the precinct’s break room, chatting with her rookie partner, Officer Miles Daniels, when her phone went off. Glancing at the screen, her stomach sank as she read the details. A crash at Top Gun—the United States Navy Fighter Weapons School.

“Miles, grab your gear,” Y/N called over her shoulder as she quickly gathered her things. “We’ve got a case. We’re heading to Top Gun.”

Miles raised an eyebrow, still fresh-faced and eager after joining the detective unit, but he moved quickly, following her lead. “Top Gun? Isn’t that, like, military?”

“Yeah, it is,” Y/N responded, slipping her badge and gun into place as they made their way out of the precinct. “But if there’s civilian criminal activity involved, or something suspicious, we get pulled in. Plus, this isn’t just a crash—it’s a potential aircraft destruction case.”

As they made the short drive to the base, Y/N filled Miles in on what they were walking into. The pilot was in stable condition, but there was suspicion that the crash wasn’t just an accident. With a $15 million aircraft destroyed, the stakes were high.

When they arrived at the Naval base, the military security waved them through after checking their credentials. Y/N parked the car outside the main lobby of the base, and the two of them stepped out into the bright morning sun. The sprawling complex of hangars, runways, and state-of-the-art fighter jets stretched out in front of them.

Inside the lobby, they were met by Sergeant Tim Bradford, a stoic and no-nonsense detective who had recently transferred from LAPD to work more closely with specialized cases involving military personnel. Y/N had worked with him on a couple of cases before. He was tough, by the book, and not someone to mess with.

“Bradford,” Y/N greeted him with a nod as she and Miles approached.

“Detective Y/L/N,” Bradford replied, giving her a quick, respectful nod. His sharp blue eyes shifted briefly to Miles, sizing him up. “This your rookie?”

“Yeah, Officer Daniels,” Y/N introduced her partner. Miles nodded politely, though he seemed slightly nervous under Bradford’s scrutinizing gaze.

“Alright,” Bradford said, moving straight to business. “Here’s what we know: A pilot, callsign ‘Raptor,’ nosedived his F/A-18 Super Hornet straight into the runway early this morning. He’s in stable condition at the hospital, but that jet? It’s totalled—$15 million down the drain. The Navy’s doing their own investigation, but we’ve been brought in to determine if this was an intentional act or negligence.”

Y/N’s brow furrowed as she listened. “Any indication so far that it was deliberate?”

Bradford shook his head. “Not yet. The pilot claims he lost control, but there’s speculation he might have been pushed into it—pressure from his CO, maybe. And if we find anything that points to foul play, the Navy’s going to press charges for destruction of government property. That’s where we come in.”

Y/N nodded, exchanging a glance with Miles, who was taking everything in, trying to piece it all together. “Alright,” she said. “Let’s get to the crash site.”

As they made their way across the base toward the crash site, Y/N kept her eyes sharp. The walk was long, but it gave her a chance to mentally prepare. Aircraft crashes weren’t her usual territory, but the stakes were high, and she was used to pressure.

“I read up on the case file on the way here,” Miles said as they walked. “The pilot’s got a clean record—nothing disciplinary, no indication he’d do something like this on purpose.”

“Keep that in mind, but don’t jump to conclusions,” Y/N replied, her tone firm but patient. “We’re here to look at the evidence, not get caught up in speculation.”

As they neared the crash site, the wreckage of the once sleek fighter jet came into view. The front of the aircraft was crumpled, its nose smashed into the runway with debris scattered all around. Military personnel were already on the scene, cordoning off the area, but the sheer destruction was undeniable.

Y/N knelt down near the wreckage, scanning the area. The nose of the plane was completely destroyed, and the force of the impact had created deep cracks in the runway. It was clear that this hadn’t been a controlled landing.

“Jesus,” Miles muttered under his breath, his eyes wide as he looked over the wreckage.

“Yeah,” Y/N agreed grimly, standing up. “This wasn’t a small mistake.”

She turned to Bradford. “Have they ruled out mechanical failure?”

“They’re working on it,” Bradford said, crossing his arms as he surveyed the scene. “But so far, nothing obvious. It’s more likely a pilot error, but the pilot swears he was fully in control before the nosedive.”

Y/N nodded thoughtfully, walking around the wreckage. Her mind worked quickly, analysing the scene, looking for anything that didn’t quite fit. “We’ll need to talk to the ground crew who prepped the plane and the other pilots who were flying with him,” she said, glancing at Miles. “Something doesn’t add up here.”

Bradford nodded. “Already got the names. Ground crew’s being interviewed, and the flight team’s in the ready room waiting for you.”

Y/N exchanged a look with Miles. “Let’s get to it. The faster we figure out what happened here, the better.”

As Y/N and Miles made their way toward the hangar, they passed a group of aviators, all wearing their flight suits and looking equally serious and exhausted. Among them, a familiar face caught Y/N’s eye. The short moustache, the tousled sandy hair, and that unmistakable stance—it was Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw.

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat for a moment. She hadn’t seen Bradley in years, not since Daniel’s funeral. He looked older now, more worn by the weight of life, but still very much the kid brother of her late husband. Her heart squeezed at the sight of him, a wave of memories flooding back.

“Bradley?” she called out, her voice hesitant but filled with recognition.

Bradley turned at the sound of his name, his eyes widening as he saw her. “Y/N?” he said, a mix of surprise and relief crossing his face. “I can’t believe it. What are you doing here?”

They approached each other, and Y/N gave him a warm smile. “Detective now,” she explained, gesturing to her badge. “Working a case on base.”

Rooster gave a small smile, his eyes softening with a mix of nostalgia and respect. “It’s been a while.”

“Too long,” Y/N replied, though the weight of that statement hung between them. The unspoken grief over Daniel was still there, lingering in the air. But this wasn’t the time or place for a deep conversation about the past.

Bradley shook his head, a half-smirk playing on his lips. “I should’ve known you’d end up kicking ass as a detective.”

Y/N chuckled softly. “I try. And you—you’re an instructor now, huh? Flying with the best of the best?”

Bradley nodded. “Yeah, something like that. Let me introduce you to my wingman.” He turned, motioning toward a tall, confident-looking man standing a few feet away. “This is Lieutenant Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin.”

Jake stepped forward, offering a charming grin that seemed to light up his entire face. “Pleasure to meet you, Detective Y/L/N. Heard a lot about you,” he said smoothly, extending his hand.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, taking his hand and giving it a firm shake. Jake’s grip was strong, but not overbearing. There was something about his demeanour—equal parts charm and arrogance—that made her feel like she needed to stay on her toes around him. He had that aura, the kind of guy who was used to turning heads and getting what he wanted.

“I hope it was all good things,” Y/N replied, her tone lightly teasing.

“All good,” Jake said with a wink, his southern drawl coming through in a way that made his words linger just a little too long. “Rooster’s mentioned how tough you are. Seems like you two go way back.”

“We do,” Y/N confirmed, glancing at Rooster with a fond smile. “Family.”

There was a pause as the moment settled between them, and then Jake spoke up again. “So, what brings you to our little corner of the sky? I assume it’s not just a social visit.”

Y/N shifted back into professional mode, nodding. “We’re investigating the crash. The pilot—‘Raptor,’ I believe—is in stable condition, but there’s a possibility this wasn’t just pilot error. We need to determine if this was deliberate or negligence. My job is to figure out what went wrong and, if necessary, who’s responsible.”

Rooster exchanged a look with Jake, both of them clearly intrigued but also guarded. “We’re the instructors for this group,” Bradley said. “But we don’t know much beyond that. Raptor’s a good pilot—this isn’t something you’d expect from him.”

Jake nodded in agreement. “Yeah, kid’s sharp. Cocky, sure, but we’ve all been there. He’s not the kind to pull a stunt like this unless something went wrong.”

Y/N folded her arms, considering their words. “So no inside information? Nothing unusual in his behaviour or flight patterns before the crash?”

Both men shook their heads. “No,” Rooster replied. “Everything seemed normal during the briefing and take-off. Whatever happened, it must’ve been in the air.”

“Or in his head,” Jake added, his expression thoughtful. “Sometimes it’s hard to tell what’s going on up there, even with the best pilots.”

Y/N nodded, appreciating their input. “Alright, well, here’s what we’ve got so far,” she said, launching into a detailed explanation.

“The crash happened early this morning. Raptor nosedived into the runway, and while he’s alive, the aircraft is totalled. The Navy’s investigating the mechanical side, but they want us to assess whether there was any human interference—either pressure from above, negligence, or if this was intentional. The stakes are high. A $15 million jet destroyed can’t just be written off as an accident without a full inquiry. We’re looking into everything: the ground crew, flight logs, maintenance records, and Raptor’s personal state of mind.”

Bradley listened intently, his arms crossed over his chest, while Jake’s eyes narrowed, taking it all in. “That’s serious,” Rooster finally said, his voice low. “If there’s any suspicion of intentional sabotage or negligence, he’s looking at major charges.”

“Exactly,” Y/N agreed. “We’re trying to avoid that if it’s not warranted, but we need to be thorough.”

Jake leaned against the side of a nearby truck, his expression a mix of intrigue and something close to admiration. “Well, Detective, you’ve got your work cut out for you. Anything we can do to help?”

Y/N smiled at him, though her mind was already racing with the possibilities. “Just stay close in case we need anything. I might need to talk to the other pilots too.”

Rooster nodded. “We’ll be around. And hey, it’s good to see you again, Y/N.”

“You too, Bradley,” she replied softly before glancing back at Jake, who gave her one last charming grin as they walked away.

“Don’t be a stranger, Detective,” Jake called after her with a wink.

---

The four-hour mark at the crash site. The long day was wearing on both of them, but Y/N was no stranger to gruelling hours. She had spent countless days on crime scenes, sifting through endless evidence, and poring over tiny details that could make or break a case. Yet, this one seemed different—something about it felt dead in the water.

They had examined the wreckage from every angle, spoken to the ground crew, double-checked the maintenance logs, and even consulted with the flight team. But nothing substantial had emerged to indicate foul play. It seemed more and more like a tragic case of pilot error, despite the nagging feeling in Y/N’s gut that something wasn’t right.

She straightened up from where she had been crouching near the debris, wiping her hands on her jeans and squinting in the fading light. Miles walked over, notebook in hand, looking exhausted but still eager.

“What do you think, Detective?” Miles asked, his voice quieter than usual, likely from the hours of tension.

Y/N sighed, her eyes scanning the crumpled remains of the jet one last time. “I think this is a dead case for us,” she admitted reluctantly. “There’s no solid evidence of foul play, no suspicious activity leading up to the crash. It’s looking more like a tragic mistake than anything else.”

Miles nodded slowly, clearly taking her lead, though he looked a little deflated. “So, we’re calling it?”

“We’ll let the Navy finish their mechanical investigation, but as far as our end goes, yeah, I’m calling it,” Y/N said, her tone final but not unkind. “You did good today, Miles. I know it’s not the ending we were hoping for, but sometimes cases just don’t pan out the way you think they will.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, scratching the back of his neck. “I get it. But it’s frustrating.”

“It is,” she said, giving him a small smile. “But that’s part of the job. Let’s head back. I’ll debrief with Rooster and Hangman, and we’ll wrap this up.”

Together, they made their way back toward where Rooster and Hangman had been waiting by the hangar. Y/N could see them leaning against the side of a truck, deep in conversation. When they saw her and Miles approaching, Rooster straightened up, his expression expectant.

“How’s it looking?” Rooster asked, his tone hopeful but cautious.

Y/N shook her head. “Not much to go on. I’m calling it a dead case for us. The Navy can finish their investigation, but we haven’t found anything that suggests sabotage or intentional destruction.”

Rooster sighed softly, nodding in understanding. “Alright, thanks for looking into it anyway. I know Raptor’s not going to be thrilled, but it’s better than a criminal charge hanging over his head.”

At that moment, Miles stepped forward, looking a little nervous but determined. “Actually, Lieutenant Bradshaw, I still have a few more questions for you—just to tie up some loose ends.”

Rooster raised an eyebrow but gave a nod, turning his attention fully to Miles. “Sure thing, Officer. What do you need?”

As Rooster and Miles moved off to the side, Y/N turned to see Jake “Hangman” Seresin watching her with that signature grin plastered across his face. His charm seemed almost effortless, like it was second nature to him.

“Well, Detective,” Hangman said, pushing off from the truck and sauntering over to her with a slight swagger. “Since Rooster’s busy, how about I walk you to your car? It’s the least I can do after you’ve been out here all day in the sun.”

Y/N chuckled, feeling the tension in her shoulders begin to ease for the first time in hours. There was something disarming about Hangman’s confidence. Normally, she would’ve felt guarded, maybe even slightly intimidated by a guy like him. But right now? For the first time in a long time, she didn’t feel that way.

“Sure,” she said with a smirk. “I wouldn’t mind the company.”

They began walking across the tarmac together, the gentle evening breeze cooling the hot air from the long day. Hangman kept pace beside her, his hands tucked casually into his flight suit pockets, his easy smile never faltering.

“So,” he began, his tone light, “you’re telling me that after spending four hours out here investigating a crash and coming up empty, you still manage to look this good? I’ve got to say, I’m impressed.”

Y/N rolled her eyes playfully, though she couldn’t help but smile. “Is that your best line, Lieutenant? You’re going to have to try harder than that.”

“Maybe,” Hangman drawled, his Texas accent coming through thick. “But I figure, why mess with what works?”

Y/N shook her head, but she was still smiling. “Is this how you charm all the women you meet?”

He gave her a faux-hurt expression. “Not all the women, Detective. Just the ones who look like they could outsmart me and outshoot me in the same day.”

Y/N laughed, a real laugh, and she realized how rare that had become. Jake was flirty, sure, but in a way that wasn’t overbearing or disrespectful. He wasn’t pushing boundaries—just toeing the line, making her feel lighter after such a long, draining day.

As they reached her car, she stopped, turning to face him. Hangman looked down at her with a playful spark in his eyes, clearly not ready to let the moment end.

“Well, thanks for the escort, Lieutenant Seresin,” Y/N said, her voice softer now. She reached into her pocket and pulled out her work card, handing it to him. “Here. This has my number on it—in case you ever feel like texting. I’m… open to it.”

For a moment, Jake looked surprised, but that charming smile returned quickly as he took the card from her hand. His fingers brushed hers lightly, sending a small spark up her arm. “Now, that’s an offer I won’t pass up,” he said smoothly, tucking the card into his pocket. “You can expect a text soon, Detective. Count on it.”

Y/N felt a strange flutter in her chest as she smiled at him one last time, sliding into her car. As she closed the door and started the engine, Jake stepped back, giving her a two-finger salute before watching her drive away.

For the first time in years, the idea of someone flirting with her didn’t make her feel guarded or anxious. Instead, it felt… nice. Maybe it was Hangman’s easy-going confidence, or maybe it was just time for her to feel something other than the weight of responsibility. Either way, she wasn’t opposed to seeing where things might lead.

As she drove away from the base, Y/N glanced at her phone in the cup holder. And for the first time in a long while, she found herself hoping that a certain charming fighter pilot would follow through on his promise.

[bluemantics]

If Keith and Lance were going to fall together at any moment, it would’ve been when Keith was the black paladin.

Keith had successfully kept his walls up until then; battles left him mostly unfazed, team bonding barely nicked his armor, and even Hunk’s cooking wasn’t able to pry him open. 

Then, Shiro vanished, and everything changed. Keith suddenly was tasked with leading the team intended to save the universe. 

All his previous failings and outbursts piled up in his mind at once, nausea rolling through his body constantly. How was he supposed to do this? He was a dropout with anger and authority issues, a wild warrior without aim. Keith wasn’t meant to be anything more than a tamed beast. Even worse, if he wasgoing to step up eventually, to become something greater, he was supposed to do it with Shiro. Instead, a gaping hole had been left behind at the helm. Keith was too young. Too inexperienced. And worst of all, he was entirely alone. 

For the first time in a long time, he was vulnerable, and his aching edges were exposed to anyone brave enough to look. 

The team noticed when he started to crack, exposing his pain and his fear. 

Hunk tried to help, in his own unique way. He noticed the pale hue of the black paladin’s skin and resolved to feed him, maybe help him talk over food. However, that hardly worked, since Keith stopped eating regularly with the team. 

Even Pidge tried to relate through their unique bond. She teased him about the old stories they used to muse over together, but anecdotes about their brothers were still raw for Keith, and he lashed out. That caused Pidge to retreat quickly, her concealed hurt only worsening Keith’s guilt.  

Allura spoke to him in soothing tones that only riled him up more. It was the worst with her, even though she tried her best. Somehow, her gentle tone only reminded him of the wild thing he was. When he would respond in anger, she wasn’t afraid to rise to meet him, and instances where the whole team witnessed them clash only embarrassed him. 

But then there was Lance. That was always how it had gone since their journey started. Lance, appearing to help carry Keith’s brother. Lance, badgering him into a fight. Lance, constantly standing just to his right, prepared to offer unwanted commentary. And now he was the red paladin. 

For the first few days after the lion switch, Lance merely observed how Keith interacted with everyone silently. It made him uncomfortable. He was restless under Lance’s piercing gaze, his eyes that tracked his every choice, his normally discerning tongue that for once chose to still. 

The moment that caused Keith to snap occurred during training. He’d been staying up late every night, working extra with the bots to get better with the new black bayard. Logically, it was just as perfectly balanced as his old sword. Keith just wasn’t able to shake the feeling that the weight of it wasn’t suited to his hand.

So, he trained with it. Again and again. 

Which meant that team training during the daytime… well, it suffered. He was exhausted. Coran, watching over them, admonished Keith for it, but he could barely hear the royal advisor over the sound of his blood rushing past his ears and the clanging of his teammates moving their bayards and the bright lights shining into his pupils and the bruises settling painfully under his ribs and the pressure of his new black armor against his sternum and, worst of all, Lance’s unrelenting stare. 

He snapped back into himself, realizing the team was awaiting his reaction. Their eyes looked round and worried. Keith narrowed in on one person who was standing just at his elbow. 

“Why do you keep looking at me like that?” he hissed.

There was a pause after his words. Lance’s expression remained careful, his hand coming up to rest on Keith’s shoulder, forcing a breath out of his lungs. The lights seemed to dim. 

“Let’s take a break,” Lance suggested to everyone. Marvelously, they nodded, Hunk exchanging murmurs with Allura as they both put down their weapons and began to walk toward the door. Pidge scampered up the stairs to Coran. Keith looked at Lance in bewilderment after noticing they were alone.

Lance just grinned, and it released something in Keith that had been knotted up.

“So, Samurai, I think we need to talk.” 

Lance quietly spoke to him about the team’s unease. That they all wanted to help him, but he’d regressed back to a place that was painful to see. Lance spoke of a small desert shack, a place that could be a shelter, but could also be confining in its limitations. A place to hide from the watchful stars. A place of anger, regret, and desperation.

Grief. 

Lance’s words carved out an image of a loner fulfilling his own self-destructive prophecy. It made Keith bristle. Then, however, he reminded him of other images, scenes from the recent past he’d rejected in his mourning. 

Helping Hunk perfect a recipe late at night, even if he didn’t know much about cooking besides canned beans and rice. 

Sorting Pidge’s small pieces of machinery as she ranted about a planet they’d visited. 

Allura laughing when he made a dry comment about a foreign diplomat, and then immediately failing to cover it up when said official turned around, making Keith smile as well. 

Lifting Lance off a bloody battlefield, the harsh sounds raging in the background as he carried him into Red and saved his life.

“You’re not alone.” Lance’s hands stretched out, beseeching. 

“Why did you wait so long to talk to me?” Keith breathed, as if he knew, deep down, that this talk was going to come the entire time. “Why were you so quiet?”

And Lance’s face fell. Keith regretted asking near instantly. 

“Well, you’re not the only one trying to fill in for a strong presence. I had to get used to some things, too, y’know? Convince myself that I can be right for this job.” He points between himself and the black paladin. 

It’s ridiculous. Keith wants to open his mouth, to assure Lance that he’s not just excelling, that he’s perf—

“You need to start showing up to team dinners. Stop working yourself to death at night— that was fine when you were number two, but now you gotta lead us in training,” Lance started to list off as he put a finger up for each point. “Talk to Pidge about Shiro, since she misses him too, not just you. Reassure Allura that you’re happy to lead alongside her. Just… chill the F out, dude.” Keith blinks, owlish in the face of a literal itemized list of things to fix. 

So, he tries to chill the F out. 

It isn’t easy. He still feels inadequate, out of place in every room he steps into, especially when his friends all look to him for answers. Keith often trembles with the weight of the universe. Thank god for Lance, always standing just to his right. Slowly, they open the door of that desert shack together, and he learns how to share his burden. He learns a lot of things. 

Like how Lance is deceptively smart when it comes to strategizing. Or that Lance’s empathy is a weapon, able to prevent a battle with a few well-placed words. He especially enjoys learning that Lance has curly hair, he thinks Keith is funny when no one else does, and he has a fondness for young kids due to his family. 

Lance is his right-hand man and co-leader in every sense of both terms. Their call-and-response has never been better. Oftentimes, before thinking about what Shiro might do, Keith begins to consider what Lance might do. 

And isn’t that frightening? 

They fell together after the lion switch in ways no one could have predicted. Keith feels a wild thing settle in his chest at the thought, his eyes turned toward the stars that watch him in return. 

He stays standing among the sand. He ignores the urge to retreat to shelter. Keith embraces the sky and its promise of warm, fresh rainfall. 

[loveinhawkins]

The birthday gift Robin gets from her parents is that they’re gonna help her fund a three month solo trip to Paris. Steve thinks she should be delivering this news with much more excitement than she currently is.

“Okay, but you’re going, right?” he says, as she bites her nails for the third time. When she doesn’t reply, he lifts his eyes to the heavens, despairing. “Oh my god, are you kidding? Robin, you’ve wanted this for—”

“Years,” she confirms, so quietly. “I want—” She swallows. “I want it so badly, Steve.”

He pauses, drops their usual teasing schtick. “Okay,” he says, a little softer. “What’s going on?”

“It’s just…” She moves her hand away from her mouth, tugs on a hangnail. “What if—what if something… happens. And I’m not…” She gestures vaguely. “Not here.”

Steve slings an arm over her shoulder. “Rob,” he says, “nothing’s gonna happen.”

Robin nods. “I know, I know.”

But then she sighs, and Steve understands: it’s one thing to know something objectively, another thing to feel the certainty in your bones.

He has a wave of gratitude for Robin’s parents, for them knowing that she needs this, for letting her have a year out, maybe even two, without judgement. It’s something they all need, really, in different ways: some time to let the weight of everything settle, to catch their breath.

Steve’s honestly been relishing the mundanity of it all, the comfort of routine—easy days where the biggest ‘disaster’ is him being late for their opening shift at Family Video.

“Keith’s keeping your job open for you, right?” Steve asks, just in case that’s a sticking point.

Robin nods again, laughing. “Yeah, mom arranged that all before she even booked the flights. Well, I think she just basically told him that—”

“So it’s gonna be a super long vacation.” Steve gives her knee a reassuring little shake, before tickling the back of it. “Jesus, Robin, if you don’t go, I’ll go for you.”

Robin snorts and wiggles out of his grip. “Shut up.”

“And I’ll speak French so badly that I’ll just get banned for life, like, right outta the gate, it’ll be tragic—”

“I’ve got the picture, dingus,” she says, and she’s smiling—finally, finally there’s a spark of excitement in her eyes.

And that excitement only grows as her flight date gets closer, as she calls Steve the week before, begging him to be the one to take her to the airport, because, “My dad took one look at my suitcase and burst into tears, please Steve, the man can’t do this.”

And then Steve’s pulling up to her driveway, and she’s already waiting for him, perched on her suitcase. She’s wearing a cobalt blue beret, and Steve loves her so much he thinks his heart might burst with it.

For a while, it’s all grins and laughter, Steve giggling every time he edges out of the driveway, and Robin’s mom stops him, frantically waving, asking if Robin’s got everything, did you pack that other coat, honey?

Then it feels like time rushes forward—they’re at the airport, and Steve gets out of the car to fetch Robin’s case from the trunk, but she’s already got it, is already standing in the parking lot, eyes wide.

“What’s gonna happen now?” she whispers.

Steve’s heart clenches; the last time she’d asked that had been as they sped to the hospital, Robin gripping his hand so tightly as Eddie lay unconscious.

Steve puts both hands on her shoulders. “You’re gonna have the best time,” he says, deadly serious, “and then you’re gonna come back and tell me all about it.”

She laughs, right on the edge of becoming tearful. “O-okay.” She blinks several times.

“Don’t,” Steve says, faux-warningly, “or you’ll set me off, too.”

And it’s only partly a joke.

“Okay,” Robin says again, and then she’s hugging Steve tight, pressing a damp kiss to his cheek. “I’ll miss you.”

“God, me too. Every day.” Steve rocks her back and forth, makes sure her beret doesn’t get dislodged with the force of the hug.

When they break apart, Robin picks up her case—she pauses, then grins.

“Now, if you’ll just point me in the right direction…”

Steve chuckles. He spins her around so she’s facing the airport, then pats her on the back.

She starts walking.

Steve stays right where he is; he knows she’ll look back right at the last second—ah, there she goes. He shakes his head, laughs. Waves.

He drives back alone.

When he gets home, he barely has time to even think about it, because the kids have biked over after school, clamouring for him to order pizza from the moment he opens the front door, and Eddie’s shrugging apologetically with a grin, and it’s only later that Steve realises that the whole thing was probably coordinated beforehand.

And he’s fine, really, he’s absolutely fine until he steps into the hall to use the phone, and he unthinkingly orders the pizza him and Robin usually share: one half with pepperoni, the other half with mushrooms.

And then he has to finish the rest of the phone call with a lump in his throat, and when he hangs up, Eddie is watching him with a sad kind of smile.

“Oh, sweetheart.”

“Don’t. Don’t be nice to me, goddamn it.” Steve shuts his eyes. “I was fine, I was fine.”

“Hey, it’s okay.” Eddie knocks their foreheads together gently. “I’ll miss her, too.”

And God, missing Robin does hurt, but it’s nothing compared to the joy Steve feels whenever he receives a letter from her. He laughs himself stupid the first time, because instead of just using sheets of paper, she’s sent multiple postcards wrapped in an elastic band, her handwriting all squished so she can fit everything in.

She writes like she talks, all rambling enthusiasm, and Steve cherishes every word.

He can tell she’s having so much fun. She enthuses about little cafés she’s found, a bookstore near Notre Dame; she spends multiple pages on art galleries, how she has the time to wander, to look at a painting again and again until the meaning reveals itself, it was like when I solved that ‘crossword’ in the mall, it suddenly just clicked, you know? I need you here next time, you’ll look at it from another angle, I wanna know what you think.

She sends Polaroids, too. There’s one of her in a white shirt with a trilby hat at a jaunty angle—Steve can tell she’s been in the sun, because there’s freckles all over the bridge of her nose. On the back of the photograph, she’s written Had a carefree kiss!

And Steve cries when he reads it, because he knows what it means: that Robin’s often spoken wistfully about how she’s never got to have that fleeting summer kind of love, where nothing is all that serious.

But she’s still so young, and life is finally light, and she gets to have it now.

Other photographs are sent to Eddie, with instructions that he should translate the French Robin’s written on them, à force de pratique, on y arrive, mon cher Édouard!

“I said literally once that French at school wasn’t, like, the worst,” Eddie says, pouting. “Didn’t realise that meant she was gonna torture me from across the world.” He frowns at a picture of Robin petting a grey cat, a bowl of food at its little paws. “And I tried translating whatever the fuck she’s written here, but I can’t work it out.”

“Not even a guess?” Steve says.

“I mean, yeah, but it sounds so stilted, man, I know it’s wrong. Like, who actually says where the silver cat feeds—you dick, stop laughing! What’s so funny?”

Two months pass, and Robin’s back soon, but not soon enough to catch Steve’s birthday. It’s not like he wants to have a huge party, anyway—he goes to Wayne and Eddie’s for dinner, and discovers Dustin leading a not-so successful ‘secretly bake a birthday cake,’ meeting at Max’s.

Everyone’s on their second slice of cake when the phone rings, and Steve knows instantly who it is from the way Eddie shouts, “Huh? What?”, like there’s a delay on the line. Then he beams and shouts, “Steve! Got a long distance call for you.”

Steve’s over in a flash.

“I promise I’ve got you something,” Robin says, slightly muffled—every so often a word will cut out, but Steve gets the gist. “I swear, I’m not awful, I was gonna post it, but then I had no idea how many stamps I’d need, and I didn’t wanna risk losing it forever to, like, the nightmare limbo of customs, so I thought when I come back, I can—”

“Oh my god, shut up,” Steve laughs, “you didn’t need to get me anything. This is the best present ever.”

“Oh, gross,” Robin says cheerfully. “You’re all sentimental in your old age. Happy Birthday, Steve.”

“Thanks,” Steve says, and the lump in his throat is back, but it’s not so bad; he can breathe through it. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

And then there’s a sound that Steve at first thinks is just from the bad quality of the line, but then he realises it’s Robin trying to stifle a yawn; “Wait, Jesus, isn’t it, like, two in the morning over there? Go to bed!”

She doesn’t listen, of course—they keep chatting, everyone in the room wants a turn on the phone, Robin teasing Eddie relentlessly for his French pronunciation.

And as Steve ends the call, he finds that the hurt of missing her has faded away into something else—knowing that there’ll be comings and goings in their lives all the time, adventures they’ll share and adventures they won’t. But they’ll always, always find their way back to one another.

Steve sets the phone into its cradle, pictures Robin doing the very same so many miles away.

Yeah, we’re gonna be just fine, you and me, Steve thinks, and feels the certainty of it right in his bones.

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 19

part 1 | part 18 | ao3

November

As annoyed as Steve is to admit it, Dustin’s plan actually works.

(And he is annoyed, for the record. That little shithead should be glad he’s still grounded because Steve’s sorely tempted to invite him over just to give him a wedgie.)

Somewhere in the weeks following The Abduction Incident, he and Eddie become friends. Like, real ones. Friends who talk and laugh and shoot the shit in passing, who trade movies and mix tapes and ask each other if they saw the latest headlines in the morning paper.

They haven’t really had much chance to properly hang out, but Steve sees him most mornings, because he promised Wayne to keep making sure Eddie doesn’t sleep in on school days, and sometimes when they’re both around in the afternoons they’ll have a couple beers together, share a cigarette on the lumpy loveseat on the front porch of Eddie’s place. 

And Eddie’s…

Eddie’s funny. Oddly charming. Theatrical and weird. Steve already knew that last part, but it’s so much better when it’s not being used as an offensive weapon against him. He likes being in on Eddie’s jokes. 

Just plain likes Eddie, if he’s honest. 

“Steve?”  

Which should be crazy. It is crazy; if someone had told him a couple years ago that he’d be spending his free time with The Freak — that he would regret missing the guy’s Halloween show because of a Family Video shift, or that he would spend a week working up the courage to ask him if he wants to ride to school with Robin and him in the mornings? He probably would have kicked their ass for the mere suggestion. 

But now he’s half-orphaned trailer trash who knows that monsters exist, so. Eh.

“Steve! Hello? Earth to Steve.”

Steve blinks, focuses on the fingers Robin’s snapping in front of his face. “Huh?” he asks dumbly. 

He expects her to roll her eyes and pretend to chastise him with some butchered version of his name— ‘Steven Cardamom Harrington, were you daydreaming again?’ — but she just snaps her fingers again and begs, “A little help here? Please?” Her eyes are wide, her shoulder scrunched up to her ears with stress, and Steve realizes that:

a) he’s been staring blankly at a cart of go-backs for ten minutes instead of actually doing his job, and

b) the store is suddenly packed.

Friday night, and the rain that’s been hanging over Hawkins all week finally let up, so now everyone and their mother is apparently out running errands. 

He moves to man the front desk because the line is almost out the door, and Robin buzzes around the room like a shaken can of pure panic, her bangs sticking to her forehead as she zooms up and down aisles with the restock cart. She keeps making crazy eyes at parents when they stop her to ask about new releases or the age-appropriateness of films, because the parents are distracting her from intercepting their little gremlin children, who keep putting movies on the wrong shelves on purpose just to piss her off. 

“Dumbo! Does not go! In the horror section!” Steve hears her bark at a group of third graders, and he has to crouch down behind the counter for a second so she doesn’t see him laughing when she follows that up with a strangled, “Ugh!!!”

Okay. 

Entertaining as this is, he’s not getting chewed out by Keith again for missing quotas because Robin blew a gasket and scared off all the customers. 

“Hey, Rob?” he calls out to her as he hands a woman her change. 

“What?” 

“Go take a smoke break?” 

He knows she doesn’t smoke. He also knows that sometimes rushes like this get to be too much for her — the noise, the lights, the chaos of a crowd (“the mouth sounds, Steve; good god, the mouth sounds”) — and she needs a minute or twelve to go stand outside in the cool air, flap her hands around and scream behind a dumpster or whatever until she calms down.

Her eyes flash at the suggestion like she’s about to snap at him, but then she takes a deep breath and marches herself out the back door without another word.

With Robin cleared out, the crowd thins out pretty quickly. Steve gets the line taken care of at a speed he’s definitely not getting paid enough to maintain, and the kids get bored of playing ‘rearrange the inventory’ and wander off to the arcade. 

It’s sort of soothing, the mindless flow of it: scan, click, click, make change, “thanks for choosing Family Video,” print receipt, repeat. His mind wanders again as he works, but it doesn’t sink into its usual sludge of despair; doesn’t wail ‘house bills mom pills stress fuck-fuck’ like a tornado siren in his head until he gives himself a migraine. 

No, he’s thinking about denim. About cigarette smoke.

Crooked smile; Chiclet teeth.

Patches and pins with strange names and stranger artwork.

And then he’s thinking about how this is the second time tonight he’s started daydreaming about Eddie and wills himself to knock it off.

What? The guy’s friendly with him a handful of times, and suddenly he’s, like, obsessed with him?

He’s not. 

He’s not. 

He's just… pleasantly distracted by him; that's all.

“Thanks for choosing Family Video,” he tells the last customers as he hands them their receipt. The second they turn to leave, he slumps over the counter with his head pillowed on his arms, a wave of exhaustion hitting him because holy shit that was so many people and thank god the store’s finally empty. 

The bell over the door dings.

Goddammit. 

Steve lifts his head, reminds himself not to scowl at paying customers because he really needs this job, but then— 

“Eddie! Hey!”

— 

part 20

tag list part 1 below cut let me know if you want to be added tomorrow

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[stevie-petey]

heyy i know you prob need to write chap 3 (btw cjapter 2 wa sso well written as usual), can i req a blurb? maybe one where he cheers bug up after a bad day or some fluff of steve, bug n robin

since chap 4 was so ,,,, dark, heres some fluffy steve rob n bug <333

enjoy !

"im legally owed time with y/n."

"jesus!" steve nearly drops the stack of movies hes precariously balancing in his arms. he didnt hear robin come in, she isn't even supposed to be working today.

robin slides on top of the counter and stacks yet another movie onto steves already too large pile. "hey, did you hear me?"

"why are you here right now?"

"because im legally owed time with y/n."

"what does that even mean?"

"that im legally owed time with y/n."

steve nearly throws the movies hes holding in robins face. shes been here for not even a minute and he already wants to strangle her. he loves the girl, shes his best friend, but steve forgets how infuriating robin can be when she wants something.

angrily setting down the stack, steve pinches the bridge of his nose and faces robin. "alright, what the hell are you talking about?"

she stares at him. "i am owed. time with. y/n... legally."

"robin, i swear to god-"

"why are we swearing at robin?" you appear from the breakroom, carrying a few rentals in your arms. stopping next to steve, you hand them to him with a smile. "i found the rest of keiths stash. he has a very weird obsession with molly ringwald."

"y/n!" robin throws her arms over you and hugs you fiercely.

you squeak in alarm, though you allow your body to rest against hers. while youre always happy to see her, youre confused by robins sudden affection. "um. hi?"

"im legally owed time with you."

steve covers his hand with his hands and groans obnoxiously loud, but you simply laugh and nod eagerly at robin. "oh, i absolutely agree."

"you actually understand what shes saying?" steve looks at you incredulously. he cant believe it. youre actually going along with robins weird new scheme.

you roll your eyes at your boyfriend. "i mean, isnt it obvious?"

"yeah, harrington. its pretty clear, like crystal." robin butts in, shoving her hip against steves, effectively pushing him away from you so that shes the one now next to you.

"robin is legally owed time with me, so of course i have to abide by the law." you shiver slightly. "crime scares me."

it sickens steve how in love he is with you sometimes, and it sickens him even more that he finds you painfully adorable in this very moment. shuddering at the idea of crime, abiding by robins made up laws in a way that makes his heart twist.

"i'll be sure to never let you anywhere near crime then, angel." steve laughs fondly, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead.

robin gags and you giggle. "thanks, honey. does that mean youll let me go spend some legally obligated time with robin today?"

"but-"

"you hog her all the time!" robin steps between you again and she glares at steve. "i mean, i get it. youre in love and whatever, but y/n is my girlfriend, too."

you blink. "i am?"

not that youre upset about it, but it wouldve been nice to know sooner.

"i had her first!" steve scoffs. "and i dont hog her, i simply am always with her. theres a difference."

robin flicks him. "is the difference the chemicals imbalance in your brain from all that stupid hairspray?"

"okay, i do not use that much hairspray-"

"what happened to not letting me anywhere near crime?" you poke steves chest, pouting slightly. admittedly, you have been slightly distant from robin lately. not that its anyones fault, shes just been busy with band and you with the party and college applications. still, you know she misses you, and you miss her. "im sure you can survive one day without me, steve."

"no i cant."

robin gags again. "youre pathetic."

"youre the one who insisting youre legally owed time with y/n!"

"because i am!"

"hey!" you clap your hands, the sound loud enough to break up whatever quarrel is happening between steve and robin. "im right here, you know."

robin grabs your hand and pulls you away from steve. "and now youre leaving with me."

"oh, alright." you dont do much to fight her, allowing her to drag you towards family videos front door. "i was going to go willingly, but this works too."

"y/n!" steve shouts halfheartedly. he knows hes lost, but he doesnt mind. secretly, he loves how close you and robin are. he also recognizes how little time youve spent together, and he cant help but feel a little guilty about it.

you wave briskly at him, giggling under your breath. "call me tonight?"

"always."

"i love you!"

steve laughs. "i love you, too." then, just before the door closes and you and robin disappear, he calls out, "bring our girlfriend back in one piece, buckley!"

"make me!"

and with that, the door swings shut and the sound of your laughter lingers in the store.

steve smiles softly, the warmth of your presence enough to ignite his chest. he'll miss you today, but he knows that tonight itll just be you and him. no one else.

and thats enough for steve.

until he turns around and remembers the giant fucking pile of movies he still has to restack.

"fuck my life."

[redroomreflections]

Gentle Hands Chapter 4

Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: Natasha suspects Reader is in an abusive relationship and tries to convince her to leave

4/10

W/c: 4.1k

Masterlist | General Masterlist

Warning: Domestic violence

Note: i see yall like this

“The Avengers are aiding in the kidnapping of my baby,” He yells into the street.

Dread fills your body seeing Keith on the surveillance camera of Avenger’s Tower. He’s ranting and yelling out into the street to whoever would listen. Passersby don’t pay him any mind for the most part. A few people stop to look at all of the commotions but in the end, they go on with their day too. He’s making a complete and utter fool of himself.

“I’m calling the police now,” He shouts. “They have my little girl in there.” Through the screen, you can see him pull out his phone and call what you assume is the police. That is until two large, burly men in suits exit the tower to grab him. They pick him up as if he weighs nothing to escort him into the tower.

“Where are they taking him?” You ask. You tear your eyes away from the phone screen to look over at Natasha. She turns off the phone screen.

“Inside until he shuts up probably,” She answers.

“And will they hurt him?”

“Not unless he misbehaves,” Somehow this is the wrong answer and it fills you with dread. You didn’t want problems. You didn’t want anyone getting into trouble because of you. Natasha can tell by the look on your face what you’re thinking. “Look, y/n, whatever happens to him is his own fault.”

“Can we go to the Tower?” You interrupt. You know it’s an incredibly stupid ask but you’d like to make things right.

“What?”

“Can we go? We need to settle all of this and if he wants to see Kaia maybe I should let him see her,” You begin to ramble. “She’s his child too and I took her and he’s probably so worried.”

“Y/n, no, absolutely not I can’t let you do that,”

You frown. “You can’t let me? I thought here I had my own autonomy. I could make my own choices.”

“And you do.” Natasha lies her hand atop yours. “I don’t think you should go and see him. He’s unpredictable.”

“He won’t hurt me in front of anyone if that’s what you’re saying,” You shift uncomfortably. “Please, Nat, I promise I won’t go anywhere alone with him. I just…” You don’t know how to finish that sentence. You don’t know how to rationalize any of this. You don’t want to do this. Yet something tells you that you should. For closure.

Natasha sighs. She can’t do this. She doesn’t want to allow this. Yet she knows she has no say. She’s supposed to be supportive. Not that this particular incident should have her support. She wants to be there for you. So she will.

“If he tries anything I kill him,” She stands to go and grab her keys.

You nod wordlessly. Here’s to goodbyes.

You get Kaia ready with her new coat and shoes. You strap her into the car seat Natasha bought. As you click the straps into the base, you look at your daughter as she gives you a smile. She only has a couple of teeth right now. Which she shows proudly. She rubs her hands along the fabric of the chair, kicking her legs out, as she prepares herself for your new adventure. You don’t take cars often so this should be fun for her. You linger for a few seconds, cherishing this moment of peace with her before you climb into the passenger seat.

Natasha puts the car into drive and sets off towards the tower. There’s a random pop song playing lowly on the radio. Natasha is stoic and a bit cold as you leave the unfamiliar neighborhood.

“I know you think I’m stupid.” You break the silence and she cuts her eyes to you. “You wouldn’t be the first.” You look out of the window and then back to her. “I love him. In some silly naive way, I think he loves me too. I just…I can’t keep letting him hit me you’re right.” Your hand travels to your belly, where your unborn child is housed safely. “If he hadn’t stopped. If Kaia hadn’t woken up I think I would have lost them. Kaia. The baby. My choice would have been taken from me and I don’t know if I would have been able to live after that.”

Natasha doesn’t speak for a long time. This makes you uneasy. You’d like to know what she’s thinking. You’re unsure of everything and you want to know how she feels. At a stop Natasha speaks. She flicks on the left turn indicator, the noise a bit distracting, as she looks over at you.

“I don’t think you’re stupid at all,” She starts. “I think it doesn’t matter what I think. You have to decide for yourself what you want. I am here. Every step of the way. Once Upon a Time, I couldn't leave either. I was under a very powerful man's wing and thought I had it good at one point. Until I was shown better.” She glances into the backseat at Kaia who’s surprisingly still awake. “Will you let me show you better?” She turns back to the front.

“I would like that,” You nod. The rest of the drive is ridden in silence.

The tower is not too far away from Natasha’s hideaway. Though it takes a bit longer to get there. She takes a lot of turns and detours and you’re sure this is to keep potential followers off your trail. She is still an Avenger. When she comes to the tower she takes the back entrance. It’s only for authorized individuals and even you weren’t allowed down here. The parking garage houses many cars and trucks. Natasha’s black Corvette is parked on one side of the garage. It’s sideways and taking up more than its fair share of space. You know no one dares to confront her about it. Either that or she just didn’t care.

You’re taking Kaia out of her seat when the nerves hit you. What exactly are you doing? How can you justify any of this? What if Keith does blow up? What if he does try something? What if he didn’t? You don’t have much time to think as you step into the elevator with Kaia in your arms and Natasha’s comforting hand on your lower back. You keep your eyes focused on the numbers on the wall. They rise steadily until you reach the fifty-fourth floor. These floors are usually used for Avenger’s business meetings. No one is usually allowed up here. This also means no one would be coming up if they had a problem.

You follow Natasha into the lobby where a few members of the team are waiting. Suddenly you become self-conscious. You didn’t think to put on makeup or any type of concealer. You look around the room, hoisting Kaia a bit higher in your arms.

“Where is he?” Natasha asks first. Wanda is seated next to Vision and she answers first.

“He’s with Tony and Steve in the conference room,” She points to the room a few feet away. Through the glass, you can spot Tony, Steve, and Sam all standing around the room, glaring him down, not even entertaining Keith’s outbursts. You can’t tell what’s being said from here. Your heart races at the idea of going in there and talking to him. Natasha glances to you before excusing herself. She walks over to the room, not even bothering to knock before she enters. All eyes are on her as she stands with her arms folded. You wonder how this will go.

“Would you like to sit?” Wanda inquires.

“No, I’m, I’m good.” You tuck your face into Kaia’s hair. She’s becoming fussier as she wants to get down and explore.

“I can take her,” Wanda offers. “We have fruit in the kitchen.” She tilts her head towards the doorway. You’re about to decline when you see out of the corner of your eye, that Keith stands from his chair in a fit of rage, only to be forcefully sat down with a hand on his shoulder by Steve.

“Yes, please,” You follow Wanda into the kitchen. She doesn’t treat you any differently. She doesn’t seem horrified by the bruising on your face. She works around you, cutting up a banana into thin slices. Kaia watches in interest, twisting her body around so that she can watch Wanda’s every move. You help her out of her coat, hanging it over a nearby chair before you come back to the counter. “You must have questions.”

“Only if you want to answer,” Wanda shrugs. “I do not wish to pry.”

She holds out a banana slice for Kaia to take. The toddler reaches her hand out before stuffing the fruit into her mouth. She chews loudly, drools leaving her mouth, as she delights in the tasty snack. “I do recognize that he has managed to piss off the entire team. Natasha especially.”

“I don’t have the best track record with relationships,” You begin. “Keith is…”

“The one who did that to your face?” She finishes for you. “I’m no stranger to physical violence from someone who pretends to care for you.” As a product of HYDRA, Wanda has seen her fair share of bruises and bumps. She doesn’t want to preach to you about anything at all.

“I’m sorry I brought this to the tower,” You find yourself apologizing. Even with the distance, you can hear Keith has gotten louder. The commotion has spilled out into the common area. How had he managed to leave?

“Y/n!, Y/n!, where is she?” He yells out. “Where’s my daughter?” He yells. Kaia lifts her head at the sound of her father’s voice. Before she could whine, you pass her to Wanda.

“Keep her safe? Please,” You beg. Wanda nods curtly, bouncing the little one in her arms, as she watches you walk out of the kitchen and down the hallway.

You step a bit further to find Keith fighting his restraints, becoming more erratic by the second, as he yells your name. You try to shake your nerves as you stop in front of him. He calms down considerably at the sight of you. Natasha rushes to your side, whispering into your ear, as the room becomes silent again.

“Y/n, I’m not sure its a good idea,”

“He just wants to talk to me right?” You respond loud enough to hear.

“That’s right,” Keith breathes harshly. “I just want to speak with you and take you home.”

“That won’t be happening,” Steve speaks up.

“I’ll talk with you,” You agree despite Steve’s denial. Before anyone could protest you say “five minutes. Nothing more. Nothing else Keith. If you try anything I will let them hurt you.” You warn him. He nods vehemently. “Let him go.” You request. Steve looks to Natasha for confirmation and she nods her head. This annoys you but it’s on the bottom of your list of things to be addressed. You walk past Kieth and the rest of the team and enter the conference room. You know he’ll follow.

When he does, he closes the door behind him, and for just a second you panic. Though you don’t show him. You can’t show him your weakness. That’s how he gets to you.

“There you are,” He says. He sidles up to your side, his hands cradling your face, as he looks into your eyes. You know the team is watching. “I was going crazy looking for you.” His hand falls to your chin, his eyes scanning your face, and you’re getting no reaction from him.

“Well, you found me,” You turn your head to tear your face from his grasp. You take a few steps backward to further the distance between you. Your stomach is in knots and you can feel nausea making a reappearance. “What do you want, Keith?”

“For you to come home,” He answers. “You and Kaia. Where is she?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” You speak carefully. You know what to say to not tick him off. You know how to play it safe. It’s shame that you do.

“Look, I know,” He clenches his fist. “I know I hurt you and I know what I did is wrong. We’ve talked about this before. I was just afraid to lose you and I get angry and…”

“You make my face look like this,” You say quietly. “Do you know how many times Kaia has seen you hit me, Keith?” You fold your arms under your chest. He doesn’t speak. “How many times we’ve woken her up because you decided to slam me against a wall? How much money I’ve spent on makeup just to hide what you’ve done to me?”

“I’m sorry,” He says. “I’m trying to be better. I’ll go to therapy. Just like you asked. I’ll go to AA and whatever else. I’ll stop seeing that girl. She doesn’t matter to me. You’re the one I want to marry. The one I want.” For a second you believe him. He falls to his knees, placing his hands on your hips, his head buried into your stomach as he cries. Under different circumstances, you might believe him. You do love him. He is trying, right? “Just come home with me. Come home and I’ll make it better. I promise.” He kisses your belly, practically soaking the hem of your shirt before he moves your hands to his head. “Just go get Kaia and we can go home. I need you.” He pleads.

You look up at the ceiling, blinking away tears, as you curse yourself for what you’re about to do. Maybe you are too weak. Maybe this isn’t what you want. He’s all you’ve ever known. You pull yourself from Keith’s arms, leaving them hanging in the air, as you exit the room. You walk past all of the Avengers, avoiding eye contact with them to head for the kitchen. They’ve all been listening. They can see everything. Which is why your next move leaves them perplexed.

Kaia is sitting in Wanda’s lap, tugging at her dark brown curls, as she sings to her.

“Y/n? Are you done talking?” She asks and you don’t even answer. You take Kaia in your arms, kissing the top of her head before you walk with her towards the conference room.

“What are you doing?” Sam questions.

“Hey, y/n, I don’t think you should do that,” Steve warns. Tony makes a noise. As for Natasha. She stays quiet. She knows what you’re about to do. She can’t stand by and watch. You can hear the ding of the elevator just before you walk into the conference room. You swallow down the pain to go and stand in front of Keith again.

“There she is,” Keith grins. He stands tall, clearly feeling victorious, as he pokes at Kaia’s belly. She seems disinterested, though happy to see him. “There’s my girl. Oh, you’re so big.” He smiles. You don’t speak as you watch him interact with her. Tears prick your eyes as Kaia matches his smile. She looks so much like him. Keith gives her another kiss. “I knew you would come home with me.”

Something about that statement startles you into action. Your decision has already been made. Before you have the chance to give up, you speak.

“Say goodbye to Daddy, Kaia.” You whisper brokenly. Keith’s eyes flash to yours. Had he heard you correctly?

“Bye-bye,” Kaia repeats. She’s unaware of the tension between the two of you.

“What do you mean goodbye?” Keith questions. You step back a few inches.

“I can’t go with you, Keith.” You inform him. “I can’t keep doing this.” You shake your head. “She deserves all of me. She deserves to have me forever.” You turn, rushing out of the conference room, spotting Steve and Sam as they step around you. You imagine it's to stop Keith from following after you. You meet Wanda at the end of the hallway where she leads you to the elevators. You can hear Keith yelling again. Screaming this time and you can tell its pain. Whatever they’re doing to him is none of your business anymore. You have yourself and your baby to worry about.

You stand next to Wanda until you reach the first floor of the Avenger’s quarters. Natasha is over by the bar, her head down, her eyes focused on some random object. You’re unsure if she wants to talk with you right now.

“I'll show you where to clean up,” Wanda directs you to a suite a little further down the hall. You recognize this area as Natasha’s. There’s a closed bedroom door, one you know as Natasha’s when she’s here, and another bedroom. This is where Wanda puts you. She closes the door behind the two of you.

“She’s angry with me, isn’t she?” You dare to ask.

“Natasha doesn’t like it when we put ourselves in danger,” Wanda explains. “Though usually its followed by yelling at us. I think with you its special.”

“How so?” You sit Kaia onto the bed. She immediately crawls over to the headboard. She begins to pull the pillows to toss them onto the floor.

“I don’t know if it's my place to say,” Wanda wrings her hands. “For now, don’t worry about it.”

“My life is a mess,” You shake your head. “ I don’t know up from down right now and I definitely don’t know what I’m going to do.”

“Lucky for you there’s a billionaire downstairs and a whole team behind you to help you figure it out,” Wanda looks around the room. “I can bring you clothes down. We’re almost the same size. Though you’re a bit curvier than me.” She points out. You look down to yourself and then to Wanda.

“Genetics,” You joke and she laughs quietly.

“You have a beautiful child,”

“Thank you,”

“I’ll be back,” Wanda leaves you to your own devices. When you hear the click of the door shut, you finally sit. You take deep long breaths, feeling the weight of the past few days hit you.

Everything’s changing. For the better.

******************************

Upstairs, in the conference room, Tony stands at the head of the table, eyeing Keith as the younger man rants about how he would be suing. Steve is seething in the corner while Sam stands completely still. Either this guy is dumb or he’s intentionally trying to goad them.

“You can’t do this to me,” Keith seethes. “You can’t keep me from my child. Once I go to the press you guys are done.”

“Is that so?” Tony tilts his head. “See I don’t think anyone in here takes too kindly to threats. Especially from men that put their hands on women.”

“You like knocking her around like that?” Steve questions. “What about that gets you off? Huh? You like seeing her hurt?”

“You don’t know shit,” Keith says snidely.

“We know enough,” Steve frowns.

“She’s not going to fuck you,” Keith grins. Steve raises a brow. He’s trying a different angle. Wanting to come off cocky. As if he has the upper hand. “She’s a prude. Took years to pop her cherry and you think you can get her to drop her pants because you’re some washed-up superhero?”

“Are you really that deluded?” Steve’s jaw ticks. He can’t believe he’s even listening to this guy.

“No, I know her,” Keith shrugs. “Once she realizes that she needs me she’ll come crawling back. She always does. Maybe this time I’ll finally get her to suck my-” Before he can finish his sentence it’s Sam that punches him square in the jaw. He flies back in his chair, spitting out the blood pooling into his mouth mere inches away from Sam’s shoes.

“Watch your mouth,” Sam warns him.

“Or what you’re going to kill me? You don’t have it in you. You’re an Avenger.” Keith smiles.

“He may not but have you heard of The Black Widow?” Tony gestures outside of the room. “She wouldn't hesitate and you know what? I would let her.” Tony hates that he’s referring to Natasha as some sort of killing machine but he needs to get his point across.

“Then I guess that doesn't make any of you better than me,” Keith argues despite his rising nervousness.

“Okay, I’m tired of you talking,” Tony rounds the table. “Here’s what is going to happen. I’m going to have Pepper speak with a lawyer to draw up papers signing away your rights. Then you’re going to take a plane ticket. You’re going to go far far away from here. You’re never going to speak to Y/n or Kaia again.”

“What’s in it for me? You can’t keep me away from my kid.”

“You get to keep all your limbs,” Tony pats his cheek. “She’s better off without you. You don’t have much of a choice.”

“Take the deal,” Steve says.

“I don’t get money or anything?” Keith presses. “How do you know I won’t go to the press anyway?”

“Oh, you won’t,” Tony says. “Unless you wish to find out how ruthless we can be. Avenger or no Avenger. What you did to that girl? You don’t even deserve to be walking right now.”

Tony takes one last look at him. “Get him out of my tower.” He says to the security waiting nearby. “Sign the papers, Keith.” He bids him one last goodbye.

***********************

You don’t venture out of the bedroom until Kaia has fallen asleep. You take a shower first, throwing on a larger hoodie, sans bra, with sweats to match your ensemble. You scrub the parts of your face that don’t hurt to touch. You want to deny the fact that you’re looking for Natasha but it’s true. She must be disappointed in what she thought you were going to do.

Instead, you find Steve. He's eating some kind of sandwich thing you’re not sure about.

“Hey,” You speak softly.

“Hello,” He drops his sandwich onto the saucer. “How are you holding up?”

“I’ve had better days,” You shrug. Your eyes scan the room again.

“She went out,” He supplies and you look at him questioningly. “Natasha. She said she had to go out for something.”

You nod in understanding. She can’t wait for you forever.

“I’m sorry you had to see that today,” You pull at the sleeves of the hoodie.

“I’ve seen worse,” Steve shrugs. “I’m sorry you didn’t feel that you could come to us.”

“For what it’s worth I did,” You furrow your brows. “It’s embarrassing. I didn't want to bother you with my minuscule problems when you battle aliens for a living.”

“Even so,” Steve beckons you over to his side. It’s where he brings you into his arms. He’s safe. Just like Natasha. He’s your friend too. “Your problems are not small. If they are hurting you or they matter to you they’re not small.”

You nod into his neck. As you pull apart the elevator doors open, revealing Natasha, as she steps onto the floor. You wipe away your tears to look over at her.

“Hi,” You wave to her. You spot the bags in her hand. Had she been shopping again?

“Hi,” She waves back. There’s an awkward silence that Steve interrupts.

“I’m just going to go,” He says. “Let me know if you need anything.” He says to you before walking past Natasha.

“I brought the ice cream,” Natasha shakes the bag. “I got one I’ve seen you eat before. Rocky Road. That’s your favorite?” You can see she’s nervous and unsure. That’s a big deal considering just who you are talking to.

“Thank you,” You nod as she begins to put everything away. “Though I don’t think I’ll be eating anything for a while. My stomach is all messed up.” You reveal and her eyes immediately drop down to said body part. “No, everything’s fine. It’s just morning sickness.”

“Happens all day?” She questions.

“All day,” You say exasperatedly. “I’m sorry.” You feel the need to say.

“For what?”

“I don’t know,” You look down at your bare toes. “For bringing you all into this. For making you think I chose him.”

“I wouldn’t be angry if you did,” Natasha admits.

“Because you don’t think you’re anybody’s first choice,”

“This isn’t about me,” Natasha shakes her head.

You understand that. You know it’s too early to be jumping from one relationship to another. You know your feelings are all mixed up and your head is even more jumbled. This shouldn’t be so complicated and yet it is. Yet you can’t help but step closer to her. Her eyes drop to your lips and you want to. God, you want to. You don’t want to be rejected again. So you tuck that thought away.

You throw yourself into Natasha’s arms and she catches you. The hug is long and fulfilling as her strong arms wrap around you. You let out a shuddering breath.

Would it all be okay?

---> next part

[artiststarme]

Steve and Robin lose their job at Family Video in the wake of that fateful Spring Break but not for the reasons one might think. It wasn’t because they closed early on one of their busiest days to track down the town’s infamous ‘murderer’. It wasn’t because they skipped their shifts for four days in a row. It wasn’t even because they told Keith to his face that ‘they would rather die in the earthquake and fall into hell than work another boring shift’.

No, they lost their jobs because of a grudge they kept. Both Steve and Robin refused to sell any tapes to anyone they thought may have been involved with Eddie’s manhunt, unfair people’s trial, or the continued harassment after he was proclaimed innocent. Justifiably, they had their reasons.

“Oh no Andy, we can’t let you rent this one. You’ve already lost enough brain cells being brainwashed by Jason. Maybe watch the news or something.”

“Mrs. Wheeler? You absolutely may not rent anything. Maybe go call the police again since that’s what you like doing.”

“Oh ho ho, Officer Callahan! Funny to see you here, you know, not hunting down children. Get out of here. Come back when you have a warrant, asshole.”

So yes, they lost their jobs but not their dignity. Inevitably, when they went back to the Munson’s new trailer or to Steve’s empty house, they had what really mattered. They could watch the movies off of tapes they stole, Steve could cuddle in Eddie’s scarred arms, and Robin could rant about how many films would be better with lesbians in them. As it should be.

(They lose a series of jobs after Family Video as well. Robin and Steve get fired from the diner, the library, and Melvald’s all for refusing business to the asshats that made Eddie’s life hell. Because in their eyes, the whole town could suck it.)

[ciaomarie]

Waiting on my AO3 invite. Here's a one shot Sydcarmy story. Canon compliant. Post season 2. Please excuse the grammar/spelling mistakes. I need season 3 to get here quickly!

Title: Won't You Be My Neighbor

It was her break and for the 89th time in the last three days Sydney reassessed the apartments within 15 minutes walking distance from The Bear. As CDC she no longer wanted to depend on the train should there be some kind of accident, strike, or weather event. There were three that she could afford on her own and many more options if she were willing to become a roommate. She wasn't. If inspiration for a recipe struck her at 2am she wanted to get up and cook if she wanted. She loved the freedom of walking around naked after a shower, picking out her clothes or getting a snack. Most of all she missed turning up her music and dancing like an inflatable tube man in private.

She had sent a message to each leasing office to schedule an appointment next Monday and two of the three had confirmed a 10a and 11a showing. It had been more than 48 hours since she messaged the third so she called. The leasing agent informed her that the specific unit she wanted was no longer available, but they had a gorgeous 2 bedroom for $3800 a month if she was interested. "Okay, now that's just two options" Sydney muttered after getting off the phone.

"Hey mija, what you looking at?" Tina asked sitting down to eat lunch.

"Just apartments. I finally have the funds to move" Sydney answered with a sigh.

"What's wrong? Aren't you happy to be getting out on your own?"

"Oh, yeah for sure. It's just I'm really picky"

"Well, it doesn't have to be forever. Just make sure to read the reviews. You don't want roaches or bed bugs".

"Oh, I can't stand bugs! My dad still has to kill them for me, but I better get a fly swatter and spray now that I'll be on my own soon."

Break was over and Sydney stood up to resume her duties. First she needed to talk to Natalie about the upcoming private party. A celebrity had reserved the entire restaurant next Thursday evening. The names of all staff members on duty that night had to be submitted ahead of time with signed NDAs. It was all happening so fast and The Bear's debt was likely to be paid less than a year after opening. First there had been a Grio article about her being a rising black chef. That led to Keith Lee, the TikTok restaurant reviewer, raving about his to-go order that included the T-Bone and the Michael cannoli. It went viral and suddenly, they were booked for the next three months with a waiting list. She was working harder than ever, getting paid pretty well, and she deserved a place of her own.

After talking to Natalie, she found Carmy working on her prep.

"Hey, thanks! I can take over that now if you want"

"Actually….it's done. I wanted to take you somewhere for like 30 minutes" he said finishing up and cleaning the station.

Sydney folded her arms, her eyebrows raised high.

"Okay, where are we going?"

"I know you've been looking for a place and I think know the perfect apartment for you. Just a 10 minute walk from here. The landlord gave me the key so I could show you today" Carmy said trying to sound casual, but a deep pink flush rose in his cheeks.

"Why is he being weird?" Sydney thought but simply said "Okay, that's dope."

The Chicago air was soft and warm, the clean sunlight making everything look new. Summer afternoons like this made you forgive the brutal winters here. Carmy directed Sydney when to turn left and right, but refused to tell her where exactly they were going. Soon they were standing in front of his building.

The reason for his weirdness was now perfectly clear to Sydney and she felt so flattered that she had to avoid looking at Carmy when she said "So, there's an open unit in your building?"

"Uh, yeah. The people who lived just above me moved and I, uh, thought you might want to see it".

The apartment was on the fourth floor. Carmy unlocked the door and let Sydney go in first. The walls were freshly painted in "Cloud White" and the oak hardwood floors creaked comfortably under their feet. The layout was the same as Carmy's apartment with plenty of windows to let in natural light and a shockingly large kitchen for a 1 bedroom place in Chicago. As Sydney inspected the appliances and bathroom, she decided that if the rent was going to eat up even half of her check it was worth it. She had always admired Carmy's spacious apartment and with her sense of style she could make hers, a cozy bohemian oasis filled with plants, wall art, and actual furniture (eventually).

Carmy had let her roam around in silence for a few minutes, muttering and emitting tiny sounds of joy to herself. When she met him in the living room again, he said trying not to grin too widely, "If you like it, it's already yours."

"How? I know places like this are snatched up fast" Sydney said her eyes finally able to meet his again.

"The landlords, they're a couple, and their 20th wedding anniversary is coming up. They want reservations at The Bear." Carmy explained, desperately hoping to sound nonchalant about it.

"Oh, that's nice work, Carmy."

Then Sydney squealed and cried "This is just what I wanted!!" and she flung her arms around his shoulders in a wild hug. Carmy commanded his body not to shudder as he hugged her back. She was just wearing a t-shirt and without her usual layers of clothing he felt her delicate frame, her slim shoulder blades imprinting on his fingers.

In a moment Sydney pulled back shly and let her arms fall to her sides, her face burning. She made a mental note: Hugging Carmy. Not a safe activity for those who want to cook along side him using sharp objects or sleep peacefully at night dreaming innocent thoughts.

"Thank you. Thank you. Thank you!" Sydney said taking another step back and making another turn around the room.

Carmy nodded and concentrated on not melting into the floorboards.

"You're okay with this? We already spend 60+ hours together at the restaurant every week and now I'd be in your building! And literally living on top of you."

"Yeah, well, I want you to. You deserve everything you want, Syd."

"Then I'll take it! Just a warning though. If you hear someone belting out Kpop and an occasional thud, that's just my weekly one woman concert, which will be over no later than 10pm. I'm not being murdered."

Carm was no longer unable to contain the width of his smile. This girl is so cute, his body physically ached. How would he get through service tonight?

With a happy shake of his head, he replied, "Thank you, for the heads up!"

With that Sydney marched towards the door and exclaimed "Take me to your landlord!"

Carmy floated behind her.

Cue: Maxwell's "Whenever, Wherever, Whatever"

[theghoulgirl]

Keith Kogane/Reader Headcannons- Section I

For these headcanons, this is specifically for Keith after the war. Therefore, I am going to make this an 18+ post because it would be super fucking weird if someone under that age read this. This is also the first part to an (currently) endless headcannons that I have.

Otherwise, enjoy! And please feel free to comment about any challenges against them or to apply your own for others to read! 

In a friendship…

Would befriend someone who is either affiliated to the group or would be in ‘forced’ proximity with, such as work

He would connect well with someone who is a little bit of a goober, like Hunk or Lance.

Keith would also most definitely befriend a stoner and connect to them through trauma bonding

Home dude lost a lot throughout his life, he would absolutely use drugs and alcohol recreationally. 

He also connects really well with individuals who are intelligent in ways that contrast his own. 

Keith does not befriend someone based on physicality, but whether it’s on how much of an asshole you are. The less judgemental you are, the closer he will want to befriend you 

It takes a looong time to break down his walls. Before you are able to, he’s generally awkward and aloof. But once you either prove or he can see you are trustworthy, he’ll start to occasionally drop a hot piece of trauma to see your reaction to it. If you react well and don’t judge him, he’ll open up more. But if you become uncomfortable with it, he will probably keep you an arms distance away. 

Once you two are closer, most likely through quality time together (ex. Studying while he trains), he would get more and more playful with you. 

Specifically also slowly reveal more and more of his silly side. 

Poking you when he wants your attention and then pretending he didn’t poke you. Blames it on the air. 

Keith would absolutely spar with you in the kitchen using utensils 

He would occasionally crack a joke here and there as well

I also fully believe that Keith has ADHD, and if you have ADHD too, then it would just ricochet between the two of you. This would drive everyone absolutely insane. 

One moment Keith could be discussing battle plans and then you walk into the room and make a random noise, and he would repeat it back thus losing all sense of authority and seriousness. 

Eventually, as you two grow closer, Keith might also develop some feelings…

In a relationship…

He would not be the first person to confess. 

Unless someone were to give him confirmation, then he’d contemplate it. Otherwise, the other party would have to approach him 

Once y’all talk it out and are officially an item, he is going to be a little awkward and aloof again.

This man did not engage in courting behavior when he was in highschool. Sure, I’ll entertain the idea that some of his peers were infatuated with him, but he never actually pursued those relationships since he was focused on his own life problems and emotions. 

Therefore, he does not know how to flirt or how to date someone. 

But that does not mean he is not willing to try, especially for you. 

But in other news, Keith has matured with time and is an amazing communicator. 

He will let you know when he is uncomfortable with something, such as PDA. 

Speaking of PDA, he would prefer to keep most physical touches in private. 

Especially kissing.

But he does not mind holding your hand or resting his on your back

He would also let you know when he is getting nervous over not messing up the relationship. But all he needs is a little assurance that he is doing amazing and all he needs to do is be himself. 

Once he relaxes more into the relationship and gets more comfortable, he would be unabashedly affectionate towards you. In private though. Outside of seclusion ? He would mostly stick to teasing you or light touches. 

Section II coming soon!

Please also feel free to comment on more head cannons that you have! Or to give a contradicting thought!

[hellfireloserclub]

Raiders of the lost ark

May24 @steddiemicrofic |510 words | prompt top |rating G

Steve was watching Eddie pace the aisle of family video, he had been doing the same circuit for the last twenty or so minutes. 

Up through the kids’ section, double back through the horror-at some point Keith was going to realize that wasn't the best planning. It was one miss shelved critters of deadtime stories away from corporate being called. Steve wasn't going to point it out, he didn't get paid enough- then making a circle around new releases before doing a loop of Sci fi and fantasy. 

Not that Steve wasn't enjoying the quality time with Eddie. His crush was growing by the day so Any time spent observing the man was time well spent. 

But the pacing was getting irritating, especially when Steve knew the thing he was looking for was tucked in Steve’s vest pocket, where it had been since the other man dropped it counting his pocket change to pay his fine.

“Eddie, you're gonna wear a hole in the carpet man,” Steve said as he input the new releases into the computer, wiping the hefty fine belonging to Eddie that had definitely not been covered by the couple of quarters that the metal head had thrown on the counter. 

At least Eddie was occupied and Steve could get on with his job with bare minimum distraction.

“I can’t believe I lost it.” Eddie muttered to himself ignoring Steve completely.

“Eddie.”

“I'm an idiot, why wouldn’t I just put it back on? I never take it off…” The muttering disappeared around the back of the back to the future cutout for what felt like the millionth time. 

“EDDIE!” Steve tried again. 

This time Eddie did stop, head popping out from behind Micheal J Fox’s back with a deep scowl etched between his eyebrows. 

“You going to tell me what you're looking for?” Steve asked coming around the counter to join him now he had finished his list of jobs. “Indiana Jones didn’t search this hard for the lost ark.”

Eddie flipped him off, continuing on his quest, knowing that Steve would follow him, regardless. “I dropped Mom’s ring. I took it off earlier after I had nacho's cause I got Cheese everywhere and shoved it in my pocket, and now I can’t find it.” 

“Well Indy. We have top men working on it right now.” Steve said sagely. Eddie stopped in his tracks. 

“Who?” Eddie asked, turning to face him. 

“Top. Men.” Steve said 

“As adorable as you being a nerd is Harrington, I need to find-” Eddie lost his train of thought as Steve pulled the missing ring out of his pocket, presenting it with an almost Eddie worthy flourish. Eddie moved forward clambering to get the ring back on his finger. Once it was in place, he pulled Steve into a bone breaking hug.

“Steve, you life saver, I could kiss you.”  

“I wouldn’t stop you.” Steve muttered without thinking. 

It took a second, but Steve could see the exact moment Eddie finally understood. 

“Oh Stevie, at least let me buy you dinner first.” 

[cirilla-fiona-riannon]

Yves' Sequel Spoilers

This is simply a fan translation and is not intended as a replacement for the game. Expect grammatical errors.

In an ordinary mansion in a certain city of a certain country一

Matthias: ".........."

Matthias: ".........."

Matthias: "You're late."

Kagari: "You're just too early. Weren't you here 10 minutes before our appointment?"

Matthias: "30 minutes."

Kagari: "You're such a good student. Stop being so uptight."

Kagari: "I brought you something nice."

Matthias: "What's this?"

Kagari: "Dorayaki. It's delicious. You'll be amazed."

Matthias: "Hmm. It's certainly delicious."

Matthias: "It's exquisitely soft and sweet. This must have been made by a delicate, sensitive, and beautiful woman."

Kagari: "I don't get what you're saying."

Matthias: "By the way, why did you suddenly decide to bring me a gift?"

Kagari: "We've met several times, but I haven't given you anything."

Kagari: "I was just imitating you since you always give me coffee. Eat more."

Matthias: "No, I appreciate it, but I'll refrain."

Matthias: "Consuming any more sweets would go against the 15th precept of the Åsbrink family."

Kagari: "You're so uptight. You should relax a little."

Azel: "Oh, that smells nice. The scent of sweets is always delightful."

Azel: "I'll have some."

Kagari: "Here comes the greedy god."

Matthias: "Azel, you're always late. At least learn from Kagari and arrive five minutes before our appointment."

Azel: "I'm not late. Look, the bell just rang. I'm actually right on time."

Azel: "But this is delicious. Does this dorayaki have red apple filling in it? And there's Achroite coffee, too."

Azel: "I always return the favor when I receive gifts. I have the utmost respect for your kindness."

Kagari: "I don't care about that. Do you have any gifts? I bet you don't."

Azel: "Kagari. You shouldn't judge people or gods based on their appearance."

Matthias: "But you don't have any, do you? It looks like you're empty-handed to me."

Azel: "Offerings aren't limited to things that can be seen."

Azel: "It seems that the dark calamity (Gilbert) has started to move."

Kagari: "Obsidian, huh? That was quick."

Matthias: "But that's to be expected. That's not enough for the dorayaki."

Azel: "Now, now. Let the God finish speaking first."

Azel: "It seems Obsidian had a secret meeting with Rhodolite."

Azel: “They likely intend to use Rhodolite to gather information about the alliance we formed.”

Matthias: “A wise decision. That small country won’t pose a threat to our country, let alone Kogyoku and Tanzanite.”

Matthias: “They’ll receive a warm welcome anywhere they go."

Kagari: “If someone who can withstand Kogyoku’s ‘hospitality’ comes, I’ll personally take care of them.”

Azel: “I agree. We should gladly welcome them. Tanzanite’s way of welcoming might be a bit stimulating, though.”

Matthias: “You two, make sure you don’t break the law.”

Matthias: “But what do you think Benitoite and Jade will do?”

Azel: “Those two countries are in the same situation. They will surely start moving to find out our intentions.”

Kagari: “Will I get to see Keith? I just got a new sword and want to test it out.”

Azel: “Keith would probably be thrilled. I miss Prince Silvio. He’s rich, you know.”

Matthias: “All the law-breaking stuff you guys are trying to pull is really giving me a headache.”

Matthias: “So I guess the important thing now is how we work?”

Azel: “Good point, Matthias.”

Kagari: “Shall we kill them?”

Azel: “No, Kagari. That should be the last resort.”

Azel: “We each formed alliances with specific goals in mind. However, it wouldn’t be in our favor if the princes of each country figured that out.”

Kagari: “.........”

Matthias: “..........”

Azel: “Whether to take a defensive or offensive stance is up to each of us.”

Azel: “Now, let’s begin. For the sake of our respective ambitions.”

[bluemantics]

Keith felt bruises behind his eyes as he stared up at the hologram. No matter how many times he ran the battle simulation, BOOM. He watched for the 100th time as the planet that Voltron was simulated to defend exploded in fiery death-ray style.

The black paladin rubbed at his face and sighed.

“End simulation.”

Keith whipped around at the surprise voice, spotting Lance entering the dimly lit room, blue holographic light shining across his freckled skin.

“What was that for?” Keith huffed. He knew he wasn’t fooling Lance with the whole “respect your leader” act, that his voice was too weary.

“You’re going to kill yourself over this stupid sim,” Lance told him, forcing a warm cup into Keith’s hands. He turned toward the blue light, reaching a hand up and gently over the planet debris, still frozen in time. With a flick of his wrist, Lance dispelled the image.

“I just can’t figure out what’s wrong with our formations,” Keith started as the light changed to a glowing yellow. He took a sip of the cup. It was warm and sweet, not quite tea, but likely one of Hunk’s comforting creations. Still, it couldn’t settle the writhing mess in his ribs.

“Why don’t you let Allura or Pidge help? Or… me?” Lance asked. “I’m your right hand guy for a reason.” Keith dismissively waved a hand through the air, ignoring Lance’s look of offense.

“I have to do this on my own, Lance,” he told him sharply. “I’m the black paladin. Shiro did this a million times. Sure, sometimes with Allura, but he also did it alone.” Keith’s hands hovered over the buttons, but Lance stepped in front of them, forcing Keith to take a step back.

“Hey. You don’t have anything to prove here,” Lance said, tone full of caution. “You’re not Shiro, Keith, you can have a different strategy. Just because he isn’t here doesn’t mean you have to fill any hole he left behind.” Keith felt something burn inside him and he clenched his fists.

“I’m not trying to be Shiro, okay? I know I won’t live up to that.”

“That’s not what I meant, and you know—“

“I just have to do this without distractions. I’m the fucking leader, now. You just have to trust my decisions here.” Keith looked Lance in the eye with a challenge. He knew he was too tired for this, but he didn’t back down even as Lance straightened to his full height and jabbed a finger at him.

“Fuck you,” Lance hissed. “I’m your second. I get to challenge you, talk shit through with you, and tell you when I think you’re acting like an ass. Breaking news, Keith! This is peak asshole behavior.” Keith rolled his eyes.

“You aren’t needed here, Lance, and if you can’t let go of your insecurity for the sake of the team and let me figure this out, then this will be on you.” He gestured to the empty air where the battle sim had been, anger clouding his words.

Lance paused. He took a step back, his legs hitting the console table.

“You’re right, you’re not like Shiro,” he responded, voice cold, eyes sparking with something hidden. “Shiro wouldn’t dismiss me like this, especially if he knew I was right.” With that, he shoved past Keith and stormed back out of the room.

“Computer off.”

Bright yellow light faded to a dim, barely lit red, as if to taunt him.

[allwaswell16]

[4 pics, 4 quotes, 4 iconic 1D fics]

Iconic Fics by...

- taggiecb -

[1]

“So, you like it when people tell you what to do?” Louis asks, more cheeky than he feels. Louis is nervous. Nervous because this is going to be a thing, or nervous because this is a thing that Louis has never done before, he doesn’t know.

“Not everyone.” Harry replies, and it’s rough, like he hasn’t spoken in days.

“Just me again?” Louis leans in, and Harry’s breath hitches.

“Yeah.” He replies, mostly whispers.

[2]

“Oh you oblivious walnut,” she says. He lifts his head to see her shaking her head with her arms crossed over her chest.

“Excuse me?” He asks.

“You truly don’t see it?” She snorts.

“See what?”

“H, I love you. And I respect your decisions, but please let me just give you a nugget of advice?” She leans in and reaches for one of his hands.

He nods, wanting her to just fix his life and be done with it.

“Take away the gay/straight/bi aspect that you think this is about. Take away you being a man, and Louis being a man, and Keith being a man. Take that all out for a second. Take yourself out of it for a moment.” She smiles at him although it looks a bit sympathetic. “I don’t think that you are bothered by the idea of two men being intimate. I think you are bothered by Louis being intimate with someone that isn’t you.”

[3]

“You didn’t have to do this.”

“I didn’t say I did, did I? It’s my honour,” Louis says. The words sound foreign on his tongue, as if he was talking to a stranger, not Harry.

A corner of Harry’s lips twitch up, picking up on Louis’ own nerves. “Honour?”

“Privilege?” Louis tries instead. Harry contemplates a bit and shakes his head, rejecting that word as well. “How about pleasure?”

“I can get on board with pleasure,” Harry says, his dimples giving away his fierce attempt not to smile. Louis doesn’t have such restraint and practically laughs and giggles his way through the rest of the song.

The song is unfamiliar to him, and it’s impossible to know how long it lasted, but it felt like a lifetime and less than a second all at the same time. As soon as the last notes play, Harry releases him and steps away. The spell is broken, but at the same time, Louis feels like something has just begun.

[4]

Moving on, Harry is moving on. He isn’t too proud a person to admit that Louis’ rejection stung. That moment at the wedding, his mother's wedding, Harry thinks with a chill running down his spine, was everything that Harry had imagined it would be. Louis was so willing and just took what Harry wanted to offer.  But that didn't seem to change anything when he looked  into Louis’ eyes and all Harry could see was disappointment.  

At least now he knows. Even if he can't have Louis now, he won't have to wonder what his skin tastes like or the look of passion on his face while Harry is inside him. He just has to now convince himself that it was enough.

He thinks he's doing an alright job of it. His main focus has always been his career. He just throws himself into his next client and tells himself that Louis Tomlinson isn't the be all end all of beautiful faces and beautiful bodies. He can most definitely move on.

Or at least that's what he thought until he saw the Daily Mail Article pop up in his news feed.

- answers below -

1. Reduce Me To A Pleading Cry (Break The Skin and Tantalize) 

As the CEO of Styles & Styles, Harry Styles cuts a brooding and handsome figure at the helm of a very successful business. His reputation for intensity is well known, but you would be intense, too, if you had to work numbers all day, give countless orders, and conduct endless meetings. When all you really want to do at night--ache to do--is give away the reins, let someone else make the decisions, be ordered around for once, just--let go. Harry has reached his breaking point when one touch from a man whose very stance commands attention leads him back to a place he thought he’d never return.

Or Harry is a broody submissive boss, Louis is a natural dom who works in the mail room at Styles & Styles, Niall is a matchmaking oracle, and a slender, dark haired man stands mute at the coffee stand encouraging others to spill their secrets.

2. Saw It In Your Eyes

Harry Styles counts himself extremely lucky that he has landed such a great roommate. It doesn’t bother him at all that his new roommate is gay. In fact, they get along so well that they have formed an extremely close friendship that takes up pretty much all his free time. When Louis starts bringing a new guy home with him, Harry is surprised by how much it bothers him. Is he not as okay as he thought he was with Louis’ sexuality?

Or the one where Harry is an oblivious walnut.

3. That's What I'm Here For

Louis Tomlinson is a dairy farmer on a tiny farm in eastern Canada. His wife of nearly thirty years has left him and his children are all grown up and out of the house. Louis needs help running his business but has no idea where to even start looking. Luckily for him his children know just the man for the job.

4. Why Can't It Be Like That

Louis Tomlinson, head of his local hospital's charity fund, suddenly finds himself in the heart of the Royal family when his mother marries the third son of the reigning monarch. Such an upset in lifestyle brings a lot of changes for Louis, one of them being the need for a stylist.

Enter Harry Styles, a cutting edge fashion stylist who loves his job and prides himself on his passion. The first time he sees Louis Tomlinson on the cover of a tabloid he wants to dress him, style him, make him as beautiful as Harry knows he could be. When he's hired to do just that, he knows this will be a perfect partnership. That is, until he actually meets the man.

A fashion AU with a royal twist, where Louis doesn't need a stylist, Harry's thrilled to have a real life Barbie doll, and they're both very wrong about each other.

[nervouswhizkid]

alright, u know what time it is. i've finished season 3 of voltron, so here's a whole dump of all my thoughts :o]

it was so weird starting out this season with no shiro. i felt so bad for keith, he was struggling so much without him and you could tell. it did throw me off that everyone was acting semi-normal even though shiro was missing?? like lance was so Lance (especially in the first episode) if that makes sense (which, like, if i think about it that's pretty on brand for him. i feel like he's the type to hide behind that flirty easygoing attitude when shit's going down.) i was freaking out when the lion swap happened ohmygod. i still have mixed feelings about it?? like i can kinda get used to keith in the black lion, but lance being in the red is so strange to me. they're just so red & blue coded, it's weird to put them in lions that don't match that. my heart was breaking when lance was begging black to let him be the new leader, you can tell he wants to prove himself so bad. and when blue wouldn't let lance in and he was having a mental crisis over it, i was genuinely in tears. he's got so much insecurity hidden behind that carefree mask and it makes me so sad i just wanna hug him😭 even though i'm not entirely on board with the lion swap, i did like the way it was executed. everyone gets in their lions to go fight, except oh wait! lance isn't following, where is he?? his lion is refusing him?? what! (i'll be completely honest though, i feel like i've read fics that have had something like this play out and they STILL did it better than the show did LMAO)

i also loved that it was LANCE out of all the paladins that became the new red pilot. he was worthy enough to be keith's right hand🥹 i feel like there was such a big emphasis on klance this season, there were so many important moments for their development.

key moment one:

the way EVERYONE was looking at lance to comfort keith??? and lance wasn't even thrown by it, didn't even seem to notice them staring at him. he was only focused on keith. he doubts himself in so many other areas, but when it comes to being there for keith there was no hesitation. he would have done it whether the others were there or not.

key moment two:

when keith came out of the black lion clearly upset and tried turning down the leadership position. again, everyone is chiming in and telling him that black has chosen him, he's their new leader, he has to do this. but he brushes them off, he's adamant in his decison. only when lance steps forward and tells him that he accepts his new authority, keith was willing to give it a shot. what if i scream

key moment THREE:

when lotor lured team voltron to planet thayserix and keith went a little cuckoo trying to catch him, he and lance end up having a moment where keith admits he's taken it too far, putting the team in jeopardy in his rush to capture lotor. and in perfect lance fashion, he agrees with keith. and then he supports him and says let's go fix it together.

this doesn't mean anything, he's just so prettyboy in this scene i had to add

moving on. lotor's character has me conflicted. his introduction had me thinking he was different from his father, and then it swaps to him talking shit with this inner group and sounding like he IS just like his father, he just presents a different front to the general public. but then a few episodes later, his plans are conflicting with what the witch (sorry i literally cannot ever remember her name) wants, and she's supposedly zarkon's right hand, so by that logic lotor is going against his father's plans?? and i think it's in episode 5 where he says "i am the leader! but i am not my father." so what is it really huh. i can't figure this guy out, i don't know whether to root for him or not

i'll tell you who i'm not rooting for though. lotor's group of misfits, that's who. i literally cannot stand them for some reason. that creepy blind person with the cat ANNOYS ME. they're so op it's actually crazy. i definitely dislike the lot of them because they're capable adversaries, which i know is the whole point, but also i just love these characters so much and i want them to be happy and win 😾 is that too much to ask???

i'm also a little bit of an allura hater...i'm still unaware of how that opinion is received in the fandom, so pls don't crucify me. i still have a bad taste in my mouth from her treatment of keith when the team found out he was galra, okay? i'm sure someday i'll get over it. or maybe i won't. we'll see. it was also frustrating to watch her try and pilot the blue lion. you're telling me this girl's dad is the creator of voltron, she was the one who instructed the paladins on how to connect with their lions, stressed the importance of teamwork, and she STILL thought she could boss blue around?? i'm sure it was purely to provide conflict for the story and deliver that payoff when she finally figures out how to work with her lion, but imo it was a little unrealistic for her character. yes, she's royalty and most people defer to her authority, but i just feel like she would have known better, especially considering most of the time she seems uncomfortable by people worshipping her. and episode 4?? her weak spot seems to be anything connecting back to her altean heritage, because she almost let the totalitarian alternate universe versions of her people into their universe simply because they were altean. yes, she quickly realized what was going on and switched sides, but i can't get over how easily she trusts anything altean, meanwhile she's skeptical of everything else. i know that's how bias works, but i can't standdddd hypocrisy it gets on my nerves like nothing else!!

episode 5 was wild. i don't know what they did to shiro, but it's got me so nervous for him and the team. the galra clearly let him escape, it was just too easy. him waking up alone, no guards or anyone to intercept him leaving his chambers? walking around, no sentries anywhere? he witnesses ANOTHER(?) shiro being experimented on before making his way to a pod and zipping away?? and most notably, the "notify command headquarters. operation kuron stage three is underway." to me, there's only one reason why a prisoner would be allowed to return to their group. sabotage. is he some kind of sleeper agent? but like, unknowingly?? and what about the memory that popped up while he was looking at the other shiro? and HOW is there another shiro? this is so fucking confusing. but, and this could also just be a change in artstyle, he looks different to me? why does his face look so weird🧍‍♀️

LOOK AT THIS MAN. THAT IS NOT SHIRO

not to mention, shiro's return causes some issues within the team. for one, there's not enough lions for everyone. i didn't think that was a huge deal, but obviously it's a little strange for someone like shiro to not be doing anything. and if he did get black back, what does that mean for keith? or lance? or allura? they've all been displaced. on top of that, there's now a conflicting power dynamic between shiro and keith since shiro is used to doling out orders, even though keith is the one leading them now.

special mention for another klance moment:

even with all the leadership confusion, i think it's important that lance chose keith to talk to about his concerns for the team. he views keith as their leader, which is insane(!) given that shiro is his personal hero/idol. also the fact that keith has been his rival up to this point, and here lance is offering to step down from the team (which he's obviously fought so hard to be a part of and holds a lot of pride for!!) and better yet, keith thinks this is CRAZY. "what are you talking about?" the inflection in his voice?? he literally can't believe lance would step down. voltron without lance? it's unthinkable. i think it's obvious that lance is still doubtful, so keith connects with him the only way he knows how: by getting on lance's level. "leave the math to pidge."

AND THEN THEY BOTH SMILE AT EACH OTHERBKANJKCLFJLWA

for cohesiveness sake, i'll be referring to honerva as haggar, considering that's what she goes by now.

the finale for this season really surprised me! i wasn't expecting to get a comprehensive history on alfor's era, but i'm not complaining. i can't believe that zarkon and haggar (the witch, that's her name!!) are MARRIED?? that's freaking crazy. and they didn't even remember???

what i found interesting is how their experimentation with quintessence affected them, both after they "died" and came back to life, and even before that. by the second half of the episode, the toll haggar's work had on her was obvious. she was clearly going crazy, suffering from malnutrition, and passed out after alfor argued with them and left. i could be looking into it too much, but i'm wondering if it had been affecting haggar for longer than that. when zarkon first met her, she seemed kind, almost sweet. definitely capable and incredibly smart, but she had a soft disposition. years later, when alfor has allura and zarkon and haggar are married, she's lost any sign of a smile and doesn't seem to care for pleasantries or idle chitchat. her responses are clipped and noncommittal, unless it's pertaining to her work. i think that was the first sign. the whole situation is just so horrific.

i'm also just realizing, does this mean lotor is the son of haggar and zarkon?? IS HE HALF ALTEAN???

another small detail i wanted to mention before i finish this off:

is this the same cat?? it's either the same species or it's the actual same cat from alfor's era. i just thought it was interesting that he was included and, if it is the same cat, he's really fucking old LMFAO