#making more phone calls and finally getting referred to somewhere who CAN do it--only to discover my insurance wont send shit over

[pedge-page]

Joel Dealing with Preggo Wife: Save Me From Your Brother, Tommy!

Summary: you call Tommy to save you from your husband's wrath...

- - - -

Maria just finished making popcorn, tossing one towards the couch where Tommy expertly managed to catch it in his mouth. She sits down next to him as he wraps his arm over her shoulder. They settle in together for a lovely, quiet, romantic evening watching TV when--

Her phone starts buzzing.

Tommy grasps it next to him and checks the ID. It's you.

Maria shrugs and let's him answer.

"Yello?"

Your frantic, desperate, hushed voice carries over the speaker: "Tommy? TOMMY! You have to help me..."

Tommy sits upright. Maria pauses the TV, wondering why her boyfriend has stiffened. "What is it. What's wrong? Are you ok?" Chills run down his spine. He's never heard you like this.

You sniffle, holding the receiver closer to your lips. Your fast, panicked breaths are shaken. "He's... he won't let me go. Please Tommy you have to get me out of here..."

Tommy puts it on speaker, looking at Maria, fear creeping into both of their souls. "Who? Where are you? Where's Joel?"

"Its... its Joel!" You squeak. They can hear more shuffling, like you're crouched somewhere small and enclosed. "I'm home. I'm hiding from him... I'm in the bathroom..."

Tommy's heart is escalating. He knows Joel. There's never been a single fiber inside that guy that could give way he could cause someone such fear. Let alone his own wife. Who he loves to death. Who he's obsessed with. Something must be horribly wrong for you to call so scared...

"What is he doing? Where's Sarah?"

"She's sleeping...she's ok...she's spared from him... from his..."

Suddenly, they can hear Joels voice calling your name distantly from another room. You audibly gulp. "Tommy, he's gonna make me--!"

"Make you what!?"

"Hes calling for me... i have to... he's gonna come looking," you whisper desperately. You turn on the face time screen, and Tommy can see you clearly. You're hiding in the bathroom, the lights off. Your bedroom door connecting to the bathroom is closed, but there's a bright light shining underneath, and Joel's voice calling for you again.

You open the door, and Tommy and Mariah hold their breaths....

Only to see Joel is lying in bed casually, his waist tucked into the covers and back resting against the headset. When he sees you, he smiles and waves. "Baby! I paused it for you, so you don't miss anything." He pats the bed next to him, opening the sheets for your invitation. His toes swish under the sheets, unable to contain his giddiness and joy. Even Spoon, who is lying on the bed, has her paws over her ears, face tucked into the sheets as if she is being subjected to the torture you're referring to.

Joel doesn't seem threatening or menacing or... really anything out of the ordinary that should make you as upset as you are, so what the...?

"Joel...please...." you plea, near tears.

"What? It's the Hallmark Christmas in July marathon!" He cheers excitedly.

Tommy and Maria look at one another and then burst into laughter.

You cry out, stammering your feet like a kid having to finish homework before play time. "Tommy, he's making me watch these fucking Hallmark movies!!! THERE ARE SO MANY. IT NEVER ENDS. Get me out of here!!

Maria is laying fully back on the sofa, nearly capsizing on the edge from her giggles. Tommy is trying to hold her up with his leg, but his hand is clutched over his heart, purple in the face from not being able to breathe from how hard he's equally laughing.

"Tommy, its not funny!"

"You on the phone with Tommy?" Joel asks curiously.

Finally Tommy responds, albeit wheezing through his words. "I didnt know Joel liked Halmark movies..!"

Joel looks at you with a frown. "You said you wouldn't tell anybody..." He says softly, a mixture of embarrassment and betrayal.

"Oh Tommy counts as someone?" Tommy stops laughinh for a moment, now deciding against helping you.

You slouch your shoulder and whimper poutily, trudging your body towards him. "Do we HAVE to?"

Joel rolls his jaw. "If only i did things for YOU, like a loyal, devoted husband, willing to do ANYTHING for his wifes happiness," he growls sternly.

You KNOW hes the best, and even now pregnant with his second baby, and going through the torture of being... well, you in this state. He really doesn't ask for much. But this specifically is payback for earlier today when you made him drive you 2 hours for your favorite bubble tea, only to find it closed because you didn't Google their week schedule beforehand. And then made him drive 2 hours back to your second favorite place, only to find they ran out of boba for the day. To which Joel started lecturing to the poor girl about how a boba tea place can be open and not have any boba. He was already exhausted, angry, and frustrated, and definitely deserved a reward for having to chauffer you around.

But THIS?

"Okay so this isn't an emergency. This is just the consequences of your actions," Maria explains. She always knew you were a dramatic bitch but this really took the cake.

"I dont deserve this torture! Tommy, he's your DNA!"

Tommy shrugs. "And you married him. Have fun!" Tommy and Maria wave through the screen before ending the call.

Your lower lip trembles as you stare at the black screen. You only chance to get out of here, gone.

You look up to Joel, who slaps your empty spot on the bed twice, very firmly, very threateningly. His jawbone flexes. You dragged him around all day, and now ratted out his guilty pleasure, something you SWORE you wouldn't tell anyone. You earned this punishment.

"Still got Christmas House, Christmas on Cherry Lane, and 12 Dates of Christmas! Now.... Come. Here."

You cry but hang you head low, dragging your feet to put up with the fifth day in a row of cheesy Hallmark Christmas movies in July.

- - - -

@jeewrites @harriedandharassed @lola8888673 @its-nebuleuse @zliteraturehoe @merz-8 @joeldjarin @pascalscoffin @pedroshotwifey @ghostslillady @innerpersonunknown @missladym1981 @mrsoharaxx @survivingandenduring @milla-frenchy @cockykookiee @fairytale07 @daddy-din @pedropascalsbbg @spookyxsam @somehopeatlast @millercontracting @pedrostories @mishala005 @theoraekenslover @animez96 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @puduvallee @cassiecasluciluce @loohoop @himboelover @callsignwidow @wintersquirrel @fluffygoffpanda @picketniffler @bbyanarchist

[prentissluvr]

sorry won't cut it — sam and dean winchester

pairing : sam and dean winchester x gn!sibling!reader ➖⟢ genre : angst, hurt/comfort ➖⟢ cw : set in season 8 LOL, sam and dean are kind of/definitely assholes to reader, swearing, arguments, crying, use of kid, kiddo, honey, and sweetheart to refer to reader, only light editing ➖⟢ wc : 4K summary : you meet up with sam to discover that dean is back from purgatory, and both have been keeping secrets from you.

when sam answers your call, it comes as a relief. a surprise, but more than anything, a relief. it’s been two and a half months, almost on the dot, since he’s answered a call. usually it’s just one month. he has a single burner phone just for you, but it’s off half the time, and the other half he never answers.

you’ve grown used to his distance, to an extent. it still stings when your phone rings till voicemail sometimes, but you’ve just been too tired to argue with him, to ask him to comfort you, make him keep hashing through the pain of looking for dean and finding nothing but trouble. 

you want him to have the normalcy, the girl who loves him and makes him feel alright. you want to have faith that he’ll figure out how to factor you into it all eventually, but you still miss him, and you’re still lonely, so you keep calling, never getting angry or upset when he occasionally picks up. you just act like it’s normal, and you can tell he appreciates it, so you keep it up. in return, he asks you over sometimes, tells you each time how much amelia raves about you after you leave, hugs you tight before you go.

it’s been several months since he’s invited you over, and he doesn’t really talk about her anymore. you figure something must have happened, but you never push anything anymore with him.

this call is different. one, because he finally picks up. two, because he tells you to meet up with him, no explanation or normal talk about what you should bring for dinner. three, he asks you to meet at a random address in kansas.

he sighs deep, “just… get here as soon as you can. i’ll send you the location.” then he hangs up and it feels like the hunting life all over again.

⟢

it’s a seven hour drive, and you’re tired out of your mind, high-strung and worn out from leaving right after your shift at a diner full of sleezes who don’t tip enough. even though this whole thing is strange for the new, hunting-free sam, there’s relief coursing through you at the thought of seeing him, hoping he’ll let your tired feet carry you right into his arms. you pull into a driveway of sorts, no obvious entrance to the unremarkable building in front of you, but your years of hunting and meeting up with your brothers at strange places during strange hours after strange calls help you find the door. it's a bunker, one you've never seen before.

you were always a little bit more like sam, disillusioned to the hunter life and the way your father raised you. you weren’t a fighter like him, but you slipped away at eighteen to go to college and found somewhere near stanford so you’d be able to visit sam often. he loved that, always so glad that you got out too. but you were barely gone a year before dean came back to collect you and sam to look for your dad. you came easier than sam, less attached to your new place and always finding yourself missing dean.

that’s what you’d been doing this past year. missing dean, and painfully. so when you knock on the door, calling out, “it’s me, sammy,” you freeze when it opens several beats later.

because the person behind the door isn’t sam. but it is your older brother. just the one who’s been stuck in purgatory for the last year or so, the one you’ve endlessly searched for to no avail.

“dean?” your voice is small as his name slips from your mouth.

his eyes go soft, the way they rarely get, and the slight smile on his lips is half pained, half pure relief to see you after so long. “hey, kid.”

you launch yourself into his arms, and he catches you easy, right there in the doorway, and you have to fend off tears that you know wouldn’t put up so much of a fight if you weren’t so exhausted. but you were raised tough, and winchesters don’t cry all that often, at least not where someone else can see. so you swallow hard and tough it out, letting dean pull away from you and lead you inside. he moves through the house with a sort of ease he’d only have if he felt comfortable and safe there. this raises questions, along with the fact that he's here at all.

you’re speechless, but not for a lack of anything to say. endless questions stream through your mind, each one pushing to be asked, even more desperate to be answered.

but the only thing you can figure out how to say is “hello” to sam when he greets you in the living room. he pulls you into a hug, letting you linger for a moment before you know you have to ask all of the hard questions. something in his face is unreadable to you, which is rare when it comes to your brothers. if you didn’t know any better, you’d think it was a hint of guilt. that rings alarms in your mind, but you brush your nerves aside when dean takes a seat on the couch.

you relax a bit when you sink down next to him, curling into his side a little. it makes you feel a bit childish, but you need it after everything this past year. he doesn’t hesitate to wrap his arm around your shoulders and pull you a little closer. sam sits down across from the two of you and you heave a sigh, wondering where to start.

opening your mouth and forcing words out is like a crack in a dam. everything comes out slow at first, but that lasts mere seconds before the flood.

“how did you… dean, how did you get out? i mean, i tried– i tried everything,” your voice breaks at that word, the weight of it meaning something only you understand. you look at him, brows taught and you’re confused by the surprise on his face, as if he didn’t expect you to say such a thing.

“what do you mean, you tried everything?” he asks, voice suddenly gruff and severe. you recoil from his side to get a better look at him. you don’t miss the look he shoots sam. this is already departing from what you expected, which is probably exactly what you should have expected. it’s just that, when dean hugged you back and he was solid and real and alive, when he sat on the couch instead of a chair so you could sit next to him, you thought that maybe, just maybe, you’d be able to stay tucked safe into his side as they told you what happened, as they asked you to stay with them. 

“what do you mean?” you shoot back. “what, did you think i’d just kick back and call it someone else’s problem?”

“that’s what sam did. that’s what sam said you did.” his voice is accusatory and when you whirl to look at sam, utter bewilderment evident on your face, you can see him physically grimace. which means dean’s telling the truth.

“sam did what?” the question sounds like it’s targeted for dean, but you’re staring the younger down.

“listen, i– no, you know what, i’m not going to explain myself on this again. what do you mean you did everything, you said you were going to school?” sam looks irked and defeated all at once.

“that is completely beside the point, sam, you lied to me?” you ask incredulously, “but you’re not going to explain to me why? why you lied to me or why you apparently didn’t look for dean, i mean are you crazy?” dean’s hand on your shoulder prevents you from standing as your voice grows louder.

“listen, kid, sam and i, we’ve already hashed this out, okay? it’s uh– it’s fine, alright?” with the way he says the word “fine”, you know that it still bothers dean, so you can’t understand why he’d say so. “we’ve got things to discuss here,” dean tries to reason with you before sam can respond. he’s no peace maker, but a full blown fight between the two of you could have an ugly ending.

“things to discuss?” you repeat, in disbelief of the audacity. knowing them, that means they need something from you, which begs the question of why sam asked you over in the first place. you don’t even want to think about them having ulterior motives outside ofjust wanting to see you, so you brush it off angrily. “well, i’m glad to hear that you two have hashed it out, but i haven’t yet, so we can discuss whatever that is later.” you shrug off dean’s hand, trying to focus on the things you’re already angry about instead of asking the even bigger question nagging at you now. when the hell did dean get back that those two had time to hash out something that major? you turn your anger back to sam, thinking about what it was like when dean first disappeared. “you told me you looked. you told me you did all that you could, that you tried everything in your power. now dean’s telling me that you did jack shit?”

sam sighs heavily. “yes, okay. listen, i’m sorry i lied to you, alright? but i just wanted you to try and live your life for once. i figured if i told you i did everything i could, that, i don’t know, maybe you’d give up and try to move on? go to school, do something you love, have real friends, maybe find someone?” he throws his hands up in the air, a defeated gesture because he knows you don’t agree, while he still thinks he did the right thing.

you scoff, because, god, he really has no idea. arms crossed and face the kind of calm that says run to anyone on the other end of your anger, you nod in false understanding. “yeah, what good that did,” you say, your tone so sarcastic and dry that sam just clenches his jaw and dean’s face turns from concerned to full-blown worried. he wonders if he should ask what that means, because whatever it does, it’s certainly not “good.” 

but you pick up again after a moment of thick, dripping silence. “you know, sam, you have absolutely no idea how this past year really was for me. i’m not saying it was easy for you, because i know it wasn’t. though now i know you also skipped the trouble of looking for your stuck-in-purgatory-brother and really, actually lived that hunting-free life you wanted.” sam cringes at the venom in your voice. “all i’m saying is that just about nothing has been all, i don’t know, rainbows and butterflies like you think,” your voice is practically scathing, a tone so rare to both of your brothers that neither knows what to say, “and you know what, sam? it’s looking to me like i’d be a lot better off if you’d just decided to tell me the goddamn truth.”

sam says your name, tentative like he’s testing hot waters, “i thought you said things were going well. you said you liked school, that you were making friends there? just explain to me what you mean so we can figure this out.”

“figure it out,” you repeat under your breath, sticking your tongue against the inside of your cheek to keep from saying something too harsh. “sam, things were going well! they were!” now you’re feeling desperate to make him understand, “but that night you told me there was nothing else we could do, nothing else to try and that i should just do my best to move on? i couldn’t, sam, i couldn’t do that. there had to be something more we could do, so i gave up on the things you said you did and i went further. i let you think i was fine, that i was doing what you wanted for me because you always sounded so tired. you always sounded like one more thing on your plate would make the sweet little life you built with a girl and a dog come crashing down, so i made sure you wouldn’t have to worry about me.”

dean’s voice is uncharacteristically soft when he does his best to make his interruption gentle. he doesn’t want to upset you more, but you can hear the tension in his voice when he asks, “kiddo? what do you mean by you ‘went further?’”

suddenly you shrink in on yourself, your lower lip caught between your teeth and your eyes shining with fresh tears. “dean–,” your voice breaks before you can even say anything else. his hand is on your back, meant to be comforting, but it only makes you feel worse about it all. you know how much dean would hate the lengths you went to to try and get him back. “i can’t–” you shake your head, “i can’t right now, but maybe… maybe if you’d told me the truth, sam, if i’d just started by reading through all of bobby’s books like you said you did, things would have worked out differently.”

“well, maybe if you told me you were going to keep trying, i could have helped you!” sam fires back.

you let out a strangled, frustrated noise as you stand, unable to keep sitting down. “would you? really? because i really don’t think you would’ve! you were so focused on moving on from losing dean that you distanced yourself from me, too! you barely picked up, never called, only talked about dean in three word sentences to tell me a lie about how you tried and failed to find anything to help! maybe if you paid any attention to me, gave any indication that you wanted to help or see me or be a major part of life like i wanted of you, i would have opened up to you!” it makes you even more angry when your voice turns teary, “and for once, i wanted to try to be the one to take care of you two. i kept my secrets, i never let on how fucking lonely i was, just so you wouldn’t worry about me!” a stunned silence falls over you brothers, sam’s guilt beginning to overrun his natural response of anger, and dean making up for that fading anger with his own. your chest heaves with laboured breath as you stare sam down.

dean’s tone is icy as he breaks the silence, “sam, is that really how you treated them while i was gone?” 

sam exhales hard, ignoring dean in favor of looking at you, “i was just doing what i thought was the best for both of us. i didn’t know, okay, i’m sorry.”

“are you kidding me?” you exclaim, voice turning shrill and growing louder by the second, “people got hurt, on my account,” you have to force that part out through gritted teeth, “i got kicked out of school, and i spent three months running from hunters!” both sam and dean want to interrupt at that, but you keep going, your voice quieter now, but harsh and trembling, “but you were doing what you thought was best for both of us? try what was best for you. dean was gone, and i needed you, sammy, i needed you and the second you said you needed to get away, alone, i knew i didn’t have you.”

that shuts him up, has him deflating and his guilt taking over, and you can see it and you hate it. you almost wish he’d get angry instead because that means you can keep shouting at him to try and make him understand. but all you get are his clenched jaw, his sad eyes, and his guilty silence that tell you he knows he fucked up but he can’t figure out a way to make it better since sorry sure as hell won’t cut it.

it’s dean who cuts into the heavy silence again. “sam.” his name hangs in the air, weighed down with unspoken words. “we’ll talk about this later,” you guess is the message. you can feel how angry dean is without even looking at him. you know all he ever asked of sam if he was gone was to take care of you, and now dean knows he didn’t. then his attention is back on you. he says your name, clear and careful. “i’m gonna need you to tell me what you did, okay?”

you wipe at your face angrily as you whirl to face dean. trying to keep the ever present tears at bay, you tap right back into your anger. but it's more tired this time, less convincing with your voice taut from unshed tears begging to be released.

“all that, and that’s what you take away from this? really, dean? you’re gonna need to know what i did? i don’t need you to tell me to know that– that it was wrong and i don’t need you to make me feel any more shitty than i already do right now, okay?”

it’s his turn to wear a look of guilt on his face, but it only sits there for a flash before he keeps going. “kid, that’s not what i’m tryna’ do here, alright? i just wanna understand so i can keep us safe, yeah?” he puts his hands out in a peaceful motion, but something else unresolved floats back up into your focus.

“no. dean, no! because there’s something else here, something both of you have been avoiding this entire time!” there’s a sudden change in the air, like both of them are holding their breath, silently begging you won’t ask the question. “dean, how long have you been back?”

his hesitancy to answer tells you everything. “kid, listen, that’s not imp–”

“don’t you dare say it’s not important! did you hear anything i just said, dean? anything about how shit my life has been since you’ve been gone, how lonely i’ve been?”

“you’re right,” sam relents, forging on before dean can stop him, “he’s been back for three months now. it’s my fault we didn’t tell you. it’s all my fault, and believe me, i am so sorry.” you collapse into a chair with your head in your hands as he continues, “i know that does nothing to fix things, but i am sorry, and i promise i will spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you, kiddo. i’m all in now, and i did it all so this wouldn’t have to be your life, but you’re here now and we want more than anything to have you around, okay?” 

you lift your head up to stare at him. “three months.” your voice is dangerously quiet. “you two…” your tired mind can’t think of words strong enough, “drive me insane, you know that? dean, you just– you just went along with that and decided, let me guess, that it was best for me? because i was at school, living a normal life and away from the danger of this one? is that it? it’s best for me not to know my brother’s alive? because, you know, that reminds me of something. hm, maybe the time sam hid from us that he was alive for a year because he didn’t have his fucking soul? oh, yeah, it must be that.” you let out a short bark of laughter, but it and your voice are completely devoid of any humor. dean visibly recoils when you mention that. he’s thought of it, and still decided to keep you in the dark. “come on, dean, you know how that feels and you go and do it to me again? really?”

you’ve beat him too. “honey,” he sighs, “i’m sorry. we were wrong to do that to you, okay?”

finally, you think you might be out of things to say, to be hurt about. your voice is quiet and fragile now, and the dam holding back your tears is fractured in a million places, more than ready to break. “i missed you so much. both of you,” you whisper. you meant to make a scathing comment about how “sorry” and “we were wrong” don’t even begin to cover it, but you find that you’re not in complete control of the things coming out of your mouth. you’re just too goddamn tired. dean is crouching in front of you in an instant.

“i missed you, too, sweetheart. so much. i’m so sorry.” he takes it as a good sign that you let him place his hand on your knee. you want to flick it away, maybe shove him away too.

“and i was so, so lonely. i was so scared,” you sob out, wishing you didn’t have to cry when you got angry. “and i’m so mad that you two did this to me.”

“i know, kiddo, i know. i’m sorry.” gently, slowly, he tugs you towards him and into his arms and you slide onto the floor and cry into his chest, shaking and unable to say a thing. you want to tell him this doesn’t make it right, but dean hushes you gently when you try. “shhh, it’s okay, just let it out, alright? i got you. i got you,” he comforts. it’s true that this doesn’t make it right, but it’s almost all you need in that moment.

“sammy,” you choke out, still so angry with him, but wanting him near anyways, knowing that he’s too scared to come close to you after coming face to face with all of the things he did wrong. his hand is on your back a moment later, hesitant at first, then strong and soothing moments later when you blindly grab for the fabric of his flannel to keep him close.

“okay. okay, i’m here. i’m sorry. i’m here now, i promise,” he whispers, silently letting a few of his own guilty tears fall.

utterly exhausted, you stay slumped on the floor in dean's arms when your tears dry up. you can barely keep your eyes open and your breathing is soft and slow. 

“let’s get you to bed,” dean whispers, hoisting you all the way into his arms and up as he stands. “sam’ll grab you a glass of water.” you sigh an imperceptible sigh because you know that dean is still pissed at sam. rightfully so, you’re more than just pissed at both of them, but you’re too tired to care in this moment, and the last thing you want is for them to be angry at each other. that’s your job for when you wake up hours from now. 

dean sets you down in a foreign bed pulling the blankets over you, and sam is back moments later with the promised glass of water and tissues for your face. you curl up and tug at the covers slightly, eager to fall asleep.

“see you in the morning,” you mumble, effectively dismissing them with your voice hoarse from crying. you close your eyes before either of them can say a thing, but your words are also a whisper of the beginning of forgiveness. 

“goodnight, kiddo,” dean says, his voice full of a familiar affection that he only uses for his little siblings as he presses a kiss to your hairline, before disappearing out the door.

you drowsily register the sound of sam setting the glass of water on the night stand by your head. “i’m right across the hallway if you need anything.” a moment, then, “goodnight,” and a gentle hand on the side of your head before a kiss to your temple.

you fall asleep coming up with a list of petty ways you’ll have them make things up to you. neither sam nor dean will be pleased to hear that you’re calling shotgun in the impala for the next three months, minimum. sam for obvious reasons, and dean because he’ll know that means you’ll be taking your job as youngest sibling to annoy the living hell out of him very seriously.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Crushed 15

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, manipulation, cheating, sleazy behaviour, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your next door neighbours hook up, bringing to surface deep-seated feelings.

Characters: Colin Shea, Jonathan Pine

Note: Please scream at me!

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you like my dog loves belly rubs (that’s a lot). Take care. 💖

After an early morning phone call, your mother insists on coming to town for lunch. You couldn't bear to tell her everything over the phone and frankly, you don't know how much you should tell her. You remember in high school when you were sent home after Kelly Harris dumped mud in your lap, your mother was more irritated to have you home than empathetic. 

You watch through the peephole before you sneak out. You haven't slept but you can't be sure Colin hasn't returned. There's enough noise in the building that it's hard to discern who's coming or going. 

When you do emerge, you flit quickly to the first floor and dip out, looking over your shoulder for either Colin or his vengeful girlfriend. You get through the lobby without trouble but you're not in the clear. Surely the day holds nothing but trouble, regardless of where it comes from.

You check the time as you wait for the cab. You refer to the text your mother sent before she set out and give the driver the name of the restaurant. You've never been there before and you're certain it's well out of your price range. Another debt for the tally.

This is the last thing you ever wanted. It makes all this drama seem all the more ridiculous. You’re a grown woman and this is what you’ve come to. Back to square one.

You approach the restaurant doors and enter with a sheepish grin. You don’t know that you own anything that wouldn’t be underdressed for this bougie brunch locale. Once more, you look at your phone. Crap, she’s there first. That means you're late even if you agreed on nine.

The hostess shows you to the table where your mother waits. She has her compact out as she touches up her mauve lipstick. She doesn’t acknowledge you or the hostess as you sit. She snaps shut the mirror and sips from her stemmed glass of orange juice.

“About time,” she drawls, “oh, and nice to hear from you after all these months.”

Her eyes finally deign to land on you. You gulp. You should’ve taken the chance of talking to your father but ultimately you know it’s not up to him.

“You’ve been so busy with Geri’s wedding–”

“Don’t try to guilt me for your neglect,” she warns, “you should be happy for your sister. Her fiance is a charming man. You’ve met Colton, haven’t you?”

“Once or twice,” you grumble. Family get togethers weren’t exactly your favourite memories. “I’ve been waiting on my invite–”

“Invite? You’re a bridesmaid. Geri sent out that email months ago. Is this why you weren’t at the fitting?”

“I didn’t… I didn’t get an email.”

“You’re wrong. Certainly, you must be. You and the rest of the girls are bridesmaids. You have to be. And it might be good for you to be involved in a wedding at least once,” she tuts. You don’t miss the jibe. Yeah, not like you have much hope of walking down the aisle.

“I’ll… I’ll call Geri and clear things up,” you say, “how are the others?”

“Well, Maeve is graduating this year. Always exciting. She’s thinking of joining Audrey at her alma mater. And Livia is somewhere in Spain again.”

“Ah, yeah, she sent me some pictures,” you say.

“And you? What are you up to?” She challenges. She’s not genuinely curious.

“Well,” you take a breath, pausing as a server comes to ask what you’d like to drink. You get the same as your mother and peruse the menu.

“Well…” your mother prompts.

“Yeah, um, I…” you shake your head, you can’t even look at her, “I am on leave from work so… not much.”

“Leave? What does that mean?” She hisses.

You feel your eyes tinge. You look at her. Why is she so different to you? Your other sisters can spill all their worries and whims but you, it’s always judgment. You can never do anything right.

“Uh, I thought maybe it might be a good time to–”

“Ah, pardon,” you’re interrupted before you can sputter out the revelation of another failure. You cringe as you recognise Jonathan’s silky lilt. Why? How? Do you even dare questioning fate anymore? “I just, I had to say hello.”

You force a smile and look at him, trying not to falter in front of your mother’s all-seeing gaze. She sits up, and lets out a hum of surprise as she sees Johnathan. Her lashes give a telling flick.

“Hello?” She utters quizzically.

“This must be one of your sisters,” he says as he runs his hand up the sleek lapel of his blue jacket, “very pleased to finally meet you.”

“Sister? Oh, do not flatter me. I am her mother, Eugenia,” she introduces herself with a smug smirk, “and how do you know each other?”

“Uh, oh,” you stutter and send Jonathan a desperate look. Do you tell her you’re his disgraced former employee? Or maybe just business acquaintance. She’s going to know eventually, that’s why you’re here. “Jonathan is–”

“Jonathan Pine,” he introduces himself, “honoured to finally meet you.” He looks at you, arching a brow before turning his attention back to his mother, “you both must be so excited for your elder daughter’s upcoming nuptials?”

“British?” She intones with intrigue.

“You’ve caught me out,” he grins, “your daughter’s been rather helpful in getting me acquainted with this country. Very lovely…” he peeks at you again, “hardly as lovely as her. You’ve raised a rather endearing daughter.”

“You…” she blinks in confusion, sending you another flabbergasted peek, “you and my daughter…” she lets the suggestion hang. Jonathan does too as he gives you an option; come clean or take the bait.

“I was waiting to introduce you at the wedding,” you blurt out, “I… it’s new.” You say, each word jarring as the lies piece themselves together on your tongue, “and I thought,” you look at Jonathan pointedly, “he was out of town.”

“Business trip was canceled, rescheduled to a business breakfast,” he slithers, “I’m meeting Gerry soon,” he checks his watch, “but I will be sure to tell the hostess to put your bill with mine.”

“Oh–” you squeak.

“Oh my,” your mother trills, “you are too kind. That is…” she gapes at you openly, “you… you’re with my daughter. Her?”

He chuckles lightly, “why wouldn’t I be with such a beautiful woman?”

“I didn’t mean– I don’t– I’m very surprised,” she exclaims shrilly, “she never mentioned, but then again, she’s always been so private. So shy. And you seem like such a lovely man.”

“I like to think so, but please, she is not the lucky one,” he preens and steps towards you. He places his hand on your shoulder and bends, grazing his lips across your cheek, “go with it,” he whispers. 

You turn your head just as his lips aim for yours. He kisses you and the air leaves the room. Your chest ties tight and your entire body tingles. Oh, wow. You’re too swept up in the sensation of his unexpected kiss that you can’t remember why you were so off-kilter a moment ago.

“Now let me not interrupt further. A mother-daughter reunion,” he puts his hand to his chest, “how sweet.”

He backs away and dips his chin. He turns on his heel and crosses the restaurant as you stare after him. The server approaches and sets your drink in front of you. You drink it in the silence of your mother’s disbelief.

“Well, you’ve done finely,” she says in a stunted cadence, “I… he’s so handsome. And tall. And blond!”

“Mom,” you plead as you nearly choke on the orange juice.

“Well. Even you must realise he’s very… dashing as they’d say in his home country,” she flutters her lashes dreamily, “oh, yes, you must bring him to the wedding. He’ll look wonderful in the photos.”

You wet your lips with your tongue and nod. You look down at the table, still buzzing as your lips warm up. You can’t stop thinking about that kiss. It nips away at the anger that kept you up all night, but hardly solves your anxiety.

You can’t tell your mother you expect to be evicted in the next month or that you lost your job. So what now? How do you untangle the knot that only grows bigger and bigger?

💗

For once, your time with your mom is less than torturous. She keeps her barbs dull enough to leave you only bruised. Her mood is a touch above neutral, which for you, is an accomplishment. You’re content but not entirely at ease. You have a lot to figure out.

You bid her goodbye just outside the patio seating and wave to her as she unlocks her luxury car. You watch until you see her get in and let out a sigh. Shit. Not only do you have Jonathan to worry about, but you don’t expect Colin to be AWOL much longer.

So what do you do? Go home and face the music or call Jonathan and try not to melt into a puddle of embarrassment. It was a nice favour of him to pretend but you don’t want to assume anything. High hopes and stupid girlish fantasies got you into all this.

As you walk along the curb, a short toot draws you to a stop. You turn as the whir of a car window steals your attention and you face the familiar car. Jonathan leans over the passenger seat to see you.

“You’re not going to run away again, are you?” He asks.

You twist your heel into the pavement and bend down. You furrow your brows as that big question needles between them. You can’t lie anymore, you can’t just wait for the truth to come out, you just have to ask.

“How did you know I was here?”

His brows lift and his eyes roll to the side. He gives a guilty grin, “I hope you don’t… misinterpret it but I… staked out your building.”

“What?” You puff out.

“Yes, I know, it sounds very bad. And I won’t claim it was entirely sane but I wanted to see the police take him away after I filed the report. To be sure you were safe and then… I sat stuck in my own head. Wanting to run up those stairs and knock on your door but also terrified you wouldn’t answer,” he shrugs, “and I followed you because I worried you might run into him, but that’s only half the reason…”

You swallow and step closer, “Jonathan, what are you doing?”

“Being crazy,” he lowers his eyes bashfully, “I know, you don’t need two madmen after you.”

You shake your head and reach for the handle. You open the door and get in. He sits back, watching you as you move your purse into your lap. You stare at the dashboard.

“What is going on?” You turn your head and look into his beautiful blue eyes, “what is this?”

“I don’t…” he begins.

“You’re my boss.”

“I was.”

“I never should’ve dragged you into this–”

“I’m so happy you did,” he murmurs.

“Jonathan, please,” you beg, “it’s not right–”

“You quit,” he insists, “so what isn’t right?”

You pout and sit back, turning straight and looking up at the upholstered ceiling of the car. You don’t know what to say. No, you don’t know how to say it. Except…

“I’m stupid.”

“What?” He scoffs.

“I’m stupid because… I’m scared and lost. And I can’t make you follow me through that.”

“What do you mean?”

“Feelings don’t just go, they just get complicated,” you explain, parsing through the stirring in your gut, “I hate Colin, I’m scared to hell of him, but I still… feel some of those things I felt.”

“Oh, but darling,” he reaches over and rests his hand above your shoulder, “I know feelings don’t just go. Mine certainly won’t.”

“Feelings? For me? Are you sure it’s not pity?”

“I only pity myself for how deeply I’ve fallen,” he breathes as you sense him leaning in, “the first day I saw you, I knew. I’ve never been much of a romantic but I have to confess something.”

“What?” You shy away, sensing how close he is.

“I knew how to use the coffee machine,” he admits, “I just needed an excuse.”

“You… did?” You look at him. He’s so much closer than you thought.

“Oh yes, if you hadn’t helped with the machine, I would’ve failed miserably in front of you at making copies. And if that didn’t work, well, I suppose I’d just have to make a mistake in my numbers,” he purrs, “you would’ve helped me, wouldn’t you?”

You quiver out a breath. You want to collapse into him, you want to let him make you forget everything but him, and yet, you’re so afraid. You’re afraid to believe that this could ever be real for you.

He doesn’t let your fear win. His lips are on yours again and that’s all you need. Nothing is left but that moment, the feeling of his mouth on yours, how his hand comes up to frame your jaw and cradle your cheek, his other creeping behind your head as he clings to you desperately. You can’t help by latching onto his collar, diving into his need.

You don’t stop until you're dizzy and breathless. He pulls back, hovering before you, thumb tracing your cheek bone as his other hand tickles your neck. His eyes search you, admire you, you’ve never been looked at like that.

“May I drive you home?” He asks softly, nuzzling your nose with his.

[mikachacha]

𝙻𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚜 (𝙱𝚊𝚍𝚊 𝙻𝚎𝚎 𝚡 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛) 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 2

Synopsis: Bada is doing everything she can to make it up to you and Team Bebe sees you again

Warnings: Just pure fluff

(A/N) This is the part 2 for Leaves ❤❤)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

🌸💮🌸💮🌸💮🌸💮🌸💮🌸💮🌸💮🌸💮🌸💮🌸💮🌸

When Bada received your message to meet at the place where she first took you out on a date, she could feel all the weight on her shoulders come off. It was a perfect timing since she really needs you right now. She's so stressed and all she wants to do is see you, hear your voice. Just being near would make everything feel better.

"I'm leaving early, everyone. I have somewhere to be.." Bada told her team and they looked at each other, wondering what just happened. Normally Bada was the last to leave but now she just told them she's leaving early. Lusher sighs and pats Bada's shoulder, her own way of telling her that the team is okay with it.

"I think Bada-unnie is still searching for Y/N-unnie.." Kyma says though Tatter was still lost in deep thought. She noticed something weird about their leader the past few days especially when she came back to the studio, shirt stained with coffee like someone spilled it on her shirt though Bada's eyes looked a little brighter, like she's back to the Bada they knew.

"What if she already found Y/N-unnie?" Tatter suggested and the other girls rushed over to her, wanting to know more. It wasn't only Bada who was saddened when you suddenly disappeared. The girls were saddened as well since you're like everyone's older sister. You were always there to check on them especially on days where Bada is relentless with practices. You'd even bring them food and drinks on your break time so they can just rest and not worry about anything else.

"So remember when Bada-unnie came back with a stained shirt? She seemed a little different. Plus she's not relentless with practices. A little bit happier, a little bit hopeful." Tatter explained and the other girls nodded in agreement. Tatter was right, Bada seemed a bit more lenient during practices and would always check her phone like she's hoping for some good news. Last night she was suddenly smiling, even got a bit emotional as she received a message. She treated the girls out for dinner. She's just really happy that you finally messaged her and that she's got a chance to make it up to you.

"I really hope they're getting back together. Bada-unnie really looked like she lost all hope when Y/N-unnie left." Sowoen says. They could still remember checking on Bada when she didn't show up at their usual practice that day, she wasn't answering any of their calls. It was Minah's idea to check on their leader. When they got to her address, Bada was a complete mess. She looked like she haven't slept, her eyes all puffy from crying. It was then they realized that you've finally had enough and left.

"I can still remember it.. It was the first time I really saw Bada-unnie like that." Lusher says, shivering at the memory. It was just the worse. When Bada was recalling what had happen and how she regrets everything, it was heartbreaking even for her. If Bada was like that, she couldn't even imagine what hell you're going through. They all know how much you loved Bada, you guys have been together since high school and for you to walk away like that, they knew for a fact that if Bada's hurting, you were hurting tenfold.

"I can't imagine what Y/N-unnie went through the past few months. No one knew where she was, no one was there to make her feel better.." Cheche sighs. She was really close to you since you often refer to her as your little sister so when you disappeared, it was also hard for her.

"I really wish that we could see Y/N-unnie again.. I miss her and her craziness at times. It's like team Bebe isn't even the same without her." Kyma added to which the team agreed. It really wasn't the same without you in it.

Meanwhile, Bada arrived there earlier. She had a bouquet of your favorite flowers and ordered the same foods both of you ordered on your very first date with her, in hopes that it'll spark some joy when you see it. She's really doing everything she can to make it up to you since she couldn't even begin to imagine how much pain you've gone through because of how shitty she is as a person.

"Hi.." you greeted Bada when you arrived. She looked at you, taking in everything about you. The way you look, how your dress fits you perfectly.. She feels like it's falling in love for you for the first time once again.

Bada pulled out the seat for you, kissing the top of your head like she usually did. You couldn't help but smile when you saw everything she ordered for dinner. It's like going on your first date again. You absolutely loved it, it brought back good memories back when it was just you and Bada, still trying to figure out what you wanted to do with your life. Where things were much simpler and your love for each other is just starting to unravel.

"I didn't expect you to remember the meals we ordered on our first date.." you told her and Bada chuckled, sitting across from you, smiling since you seemed happy with what you were seeing.

"How could I ever forget? You nearly cried because you thought I'm gonna go broke for the things I ordered." Bada jokes and you laughed, remembering it all too well because you nearly did. You didn't know she was saving up to go on a date with you and she really went out ordering a lot.

You enjoyed having dinner with Bada. Small things like this are what you both need to heal and maybe start again. Baby steps, as you would like to call it. It's like rediscovering each other once again. Knowing that she's got an early call time the next morning, you asked Bada to drop you off at your apartment so she can go get some rest. Bada was reluctant but you promised that you'd see each other soon. That made her smile and hug you before she left to go home. You couldn't help but smile as well, it felt like this is your fresh start with Bada.

Every single day, she'd surprise you with something. Like random deliveries of food or snacks that you used to enjoy and each one has a note written by Bada herself. Just some cute little notes and cheesy poems she found online that surely made you smile whenever you read them. You even kept them in a small box, wanting to cherish those little things that she did. It went on for months, she made consistent efforts to make it up to you and when you visited the set of Street Woman Fighter to surprise her and team Bebe, whom you missed so much.

"Is that Y/N-unnie?" Lusher asked and the other girls looked at well to confirm. You smiled and waved at them that got them cheering and running up to you. The other teams were confused by the commotion but also found it very adorable that all of the team Bebe are hugging you and crying to you. You're pretty sure you'll end up on The Choom's youtube channel where they post some behind the scenes moments and other things that are usually cut from the episode itself but too precious to discard.

"Ya! Y/N-unnie we missed you!" Kyma cried and you just hugged them, saying sorry for disappearing and worrying them. You promised that you'd make it up to them so they can stop crying. Even when the filming resumed, team Bebe still couldn't keep their eyes off you, it's like they're all scared that you're gonna disappear again.

After everything is finished, you take them to your apartment so you can cook some food since you know how much they love it when you make food just for them. They all helped you with the preparation, spending as much time as they can with you. Bada took pictures and posted them on Team Bebe's official instagram with the caption, "Team Bebe's heart and soul is back ❤ We're complete again." then she tagged your account to the post. You and her have a lot of things to work on before she can say you're her girlfriend once again but she's willing to wait. She's happy that she gets to see your smile again and just be able to be near you. It's enough for Bada.

[salty-croissants]

can you make some headcanons and/or imagine of rayman/ramon with an adoptive human! sister s/o (who used to be from another dimension before moving away to cl world dimension somewhere which is an unaffected good nation that didn't got ruined when she was a kid with her family (her mom, younger biological sister, and one of her female cousins), her pets, and her bunch of friends) after the last episode from season 1 (few moments after killing the broad directors), getting an heart warming reunion before successfuly escaping go get bullfrog out and then flee to the hideout where she shares with her bunch of dear friends who also joined the rebellion ;

like she finally got the accurate precious information about where her brother (rayman/ramon) is, after dolph called her in her smartphone and told y/n where he is and where he is heading to because he also got the information about the heck her bro went through thanks to the virtual realm thing and stuff and he needs to share this information and he also told that after reuniting with her adoptive brother she and him must go get bullfrog, quickly explains his situation and to her end the call before her smartphone may end up getting infected with virus before fighting the bad guys,

so after hearing this she turns off her phone (thankfull didn't got infected), grabbed her weapons, gas mask (modified to look like a bunny rabbit, with the addion of other tech gadgets like walkie talkie like features, night vision, and extra protection, an gas mask she and some of her friends made for him (with the same features from the inside but in the outside made to look like an fox) ((yes all of her friends and pets/familiars are wearing gas masks like this for good reasons)); after she killed all of the other bad guys in the building she comes to where ramon/raymon is laying on the table and before he could do anything, she pulls down her hoodie and shows her face and ray/ramon reconizes her.

((it's based on the concept of my cl timeline self-insert, look at the concept to you have an idea and even use some stuff as reference, in the messages; sorry if it got long))

Thank you for the request !

I really hope I got everything right , there was quite a lot of information to keep track of with this one ;C;👍

This is also my first ever more platonic request , which is pretty neat ! :D

Details : use of female reader ; 

reader is Rayman’s adoptive sister ; 

presence of mild swearing and blood 

< … did you get all that , y/n ? 

You better , cause I don’t have much time left to explain . > 

< Yeah yeah , I got it ! 

It’s just … I can’t believe I’m actually going to see him again … > 

< Stop . I need you to focus now .

You grab your brother , free Bullfrog and get the hell out of there immediately .

I won’t be able to be there with these assholes in the way , so you’re on your own from now … 

I’ll see you when this is all ov - > 

With that abrupt end to Dolph’s call , you remained completely alone 

You took a deep breath , your heart pounding in your chest as you walked forward in the corridor , leaving behind the bodies of the Eden security guards that were unfortunate enough to cross you .

It hadn’t been easy to get that far into the building the Board of Directors used as their headquarters , the many bruises that had cut through your clothes and gas mask were proof of that … 

However , it was all going to be worth it to be reunited with your long lost brother .

How many years had it been since you last got to talk to Rayman before they took him from you ? 

Four ? 

No , maybe even five …

The only way you could see him was when his show aired on tv , and while you were happy to see that he seemed to be alright , the fact that he had become the face of the very thing you and your friends were fighting so hard against broke your heart …

Did that mean that you were enemies now ? 

Was he even going to be happy to see you , or remember who you were … ? 

You shook your head , trying to keep those awful thoughts from tormenting your mind .

Even if Rayman were to regard you as a “terrorist” , you weren’t going to let the Directors or anyone else hurt him , and that was all that mattered .

It only took a few more steps to reach the door that lead to the Director’s room , the place where Rayman was supposed to be in from what Dolph had told you before the beginning of that mission , and when you finally found the courage to open it you found yourself staring at a rather grim sight : 

the all powerful Directors , the ones who had everyone’s lives in the palm of their hands for years , were all laying dead on the table and the floor , their blood painting the otherwise pristine room in a bright crimson , and …

Hang on , was there someone else laying down on that table ?

Could it really be … ? 

< Ray ? > 

As soon as he heard your voice , he immediately jolted up , his breathing heavy as he reached for his guns .

< Who … who the hell are you ? Don’t come any closer ! > 

You sounded strangely familiar to the now ex Eden star … but he knew that it wouldn’t be possible for that very special person to be there . 

It just … it couldn’t be . 

Your eyes widened when you took a better look at your brother : 

he looked so … different …

You had never seen that spark of fury in his eyes , and that was without mentioning his appearance .

Before things could escalate for the worst , you grabbed the mask you were wearing with shaky hands , slowly removing it and revealing your face .

A moment of shocked silence followed , before he jumped down from the table , his eyes never leaving yours as he approached … 

< y/n … ? > 

, he whispered , almost like he was afraid to even speak .

< Oh Ray , I missed you so much ! > 

When you leaned forward to hug him , giving him confirmation that you were actually real and not just a part of his imagination , it was the moment that he finally snapped :

He clutched you tightly , the weight of everything that he had been through that day mixing with the relief of having found you again , after years of not being able to even know if you were okay .

You could hear him sob next to your shoulder …

< I can’t believe … I can’t believe that it’s you , y/n … all this time , I thought … I thought  I’d never see you again … > 

After a few more minutes of much needed crying , the two of you finally pulled away from each other , so happy about being back together that you almost forgot the gravity of your current situation . 

< But … how did you get here ? > 

< It’s kind of a long story , but to cut it short I’ve been working against Eden with a few others , and when Dolph told me you were here I had to come Ray … I had to make sure you were okay . > 

You could see your brother trying to process everything he was hearing , that you were allies with Dolph Laserhawk one of the people he had considered a terrorist just a few days prior … but he visibly flinched a little as you mentioned his old name .

< I see , well it’s thanks to him if we got to reunite then … heh , today’s been one hell of a crazy day .

Though … I gotta ask you to call me Ramon now . 

I don’t wanna go by my old name anymore … reminds me of all the damage I’ve caused and the lies these bastards made me spread . > 

You nodded in response , your gaze softening as you wondered just how awful he probably felt when finding the truth about Eden …

It must’ve been a real hard time for him , which reminded you of the other reason you were there on that mission . 

< Okay , look … I know you’ve already been through a lot today , but I need to set Bullfrog free before they execute him , and I … can’t do it alone . > 

Before you could finish your sentence , Ramon had already begun to pick up his guns from were he left them without hesitation …

< I got your back y/n .

Bullfrog is the reason why I know what Eden has done … I gotta repay the favor . > 

When the both of you walked out of the room , ready for your rescue mission , you couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed with joy at the thought of having your brother by your side :

this time , nothing was going to take him away from you … you would’ve made sure of that . 

[itspotatocatto]

100 epitaphs analysis rambles

mostly centered around symbolism of sanya's outfit changes but also touching on the baseball bat, the convergence cables, and a few strike 3 line retrospectives. (had to put it under the cut because it accidentally got really long, whoopsies!)

the two main outfits we see sanya in are her short yellow and black outfit with her hair down (which i will be referring to as "gymkid outfit") and her longer black and white outfit with her hair tied up (which i will refer to as "punk outfit").

in sanya's gymkid outfit we see her helplessness and youth, from the first time yura took her out to party [false disposition] to how she lays down seemingly caught in a grieving immobility. in her punk outfit however we see her defiance and her attempts to be "mature", raising the bat to protect KT when they first meet [parties are for losers] to her irreverent laughter while "a candle burns another photograph".

in convergence we see how yura views the cables binding the characters central to his plan of saving KT, sanya is here in her gymkid outfit, as much as he cares for her she's still a helpless kid getting tied up and held back by all that's going on. but in 100 epitaphs we see how sanya views this situation, seemingly accepting the cables and embracing them. she welcomes them, they don't restrict her, they comfort her, enabling her to get stronger, to be better at fighting the world.

also take note of the baseball bat, in convergence she isn't touching it but still tied up with her, out of reach but inescapable. whereas, in 100 epitaphs we see and hear how yura taking the bat in his hand kicks up the music, that audible ignition of firey rebel spirit, and when the cables enwrap her she wraps herself around the bat, holding it tight to her, refusing to let it go, that symbol of anything and everything she might be able to do to change things, to use what little power she has and release the frustration she's built up against the cruelty of the world.

this outfit symbolism is also shown in how sanya was wearing her gymkid outfit while she was on call with yura during the "negotiations" in convergence. she had very little actionable power in that situation, her presence was concealed and then almost immediately forcibly removed as soon as it was revealed. even down to the tiniest detail of yura's contact photo of her being her wearing the punk outfit and how that's the outfit she wears when she confronts dmitry in 100 epitaphs, these little attempts at displaying strength.

these outfit specifics even go back to young!sanya tying her hair up in preparation for the funeral, probably her first real experience of having to be mature. the facial expression change between young!sanya and present!sanya there is also very telling, young!sanya's frown is so sad, so unsure. this is contrasted by what we can see of present!sanya's frown, it's a lot sharper, a lot more sure of itself, somewhere between determined and disgruntled, she's gotten used to trying to be mature but that doesn't make it easier, she's just pushing through it harder.

but of course, yura and sanya's views of her aren't the only ones we see in 100 epitaphs, we also see sergei's perception of her as they stand back to back. here she's in her punk outfit, but it's incomplete, her hair is down, she can't fully commit herself to this, it's not who she is (or maybe she shouldn't commit herself to it and it's not who she should be).

on the topic of sergei it is SO COOL how strike 3's presence is all over 100 epitaphs. from the tepid autumn day to the motif while sanya and sergei are back to back, even how they both start with a phone (olga calling vs yura disconnecting). and they way strike 3 foreshadowed that final scene in 100 epitaphs in a way to make the exact way those lines would turn out ambiguous is damn near masterful.

"everything will pass, the edge will dull, i know what's best for you, and after all a day will come, warm and bright when i, tear down this dismal shelter wall." hearing this we're lead to believe a few key things: that sanya's edge will dull, and that this tearing down of the dismal shelter wall will be a strong and resilient action.

and yet in 100 epitaphs, it is not sanya's rebellious edge that dulls, but sergei's protective one. he realises that trying to protect sanya like this is just pushing her further away from him, he knows what's best but he's given up on trying to make her see that, the shelter wall is torn down not in triumph, but in resignation, collapsing under it's own weight.

"just hide behind this back of mine and save your helpless spite" this is framed like sergei asking sanya to let him protect her and to save that spite she feels for times where it might be of more use than as the weapon of an angry teen. in 100 epitaphs we see how sanya grabs onto sergei's back, to prevent him from punching yura, saving the embodiment of helpless spite.

can you tell i FUCKING LOVE THIS SERIES

[fandomconsumesme]

Rambling as to make sense of DTAMHD, tw ed and klinsky reference, this is horrifically long but i promise i'm going somewhere with it

I gotta say, watching it the first time I was fairly disappointed (The acting and episode were great, just wasn't sure how I felt about it as a finale) But having spent time to process, i would say this does its job as a Dennis catharsis episode, particularly symbolically

Starting off, Dennis has been almost scarily normal this season, or about as normal as Dennis can be (catfishing your roommate into using xl anal beads), not creeping on women, not getting fed up with the gang all the time, working with them in a familial manner again. Shockingly, it seems he's doing pretty good, and growing into himself

Like at the beginning of the episode, he's actually going to a doctor and apparently everything looks normal. Either this doctor immediately needs to be disbarred, or Dennis has been doing better taking care of himself, an unheard of concept

4. Dennis has a desperate fear of getting old, willing to do anything to prove himself still valuable, something to be desired, both connected to his childhood abuse by Mrs. klinsky, a way of rationalizing that it was okay because Dennis is special, just more developed, and his tenuous relationship with his mother where he was the golden boy, but emotionally separated from her due to drug abuse.

5. Dennis' mind scenario thing starts right after the title sequence i think, and we pretty much immediately get his interpretation of the gang and how he sees them.

6. Charlie is childlike, confused over the concept of sea level, and Dennis has an almost patronizing view of him, not understanding how he's this way if they are so similar

7. Frank brings up the family style cooking, the point of the pressure cooker, but dennis and the gang are in two different places, and the only reason they called was the sea level thing. Dennis sees the gang as a family, but feels like an outsider

8. Dee is reasonable and kind, backing Dennis up, supporting his decision for a mental health day, but seems to lack understanding as to why Dennis is doing this, a fundamental disconnect

9. Mac is always in view, all of him, the focus of the call. Dennis stays watching him, even though he says nothing particularly relevant in the scene. The whole of him appearing also has interesting implications of Dennis knowing who mac is, but he can only get a picture of the other members of the gang for a few seconds at a time. Mac is his constant.

10. To continue that thread, the other members are always yanking the phone towards them, stopping Dennis from being able to interact with him, but Dennis always knows where he is.

11. Frank is an asshole, diminishing Dennis' problems, acting like they don't exist, and as a much smarter person noted here, dennis' watch starts beeping the moment he starts talking.

12. Mac is also patient, cautious of Dennis' boundaries and doing exactly what he has to to make dennis feel safe.

13. Dennis is insistent on it being his mental health day and none of them participating, but as becomes evident later, the day is miserable BECAUSE they aren't there to back him up and support him. Dennis tries to stay away because they make things complicated, but they make things complicated by causing him to have big feelings.

15. He also gets repeatedly annoyed by very little things, like downloading an app or not getting the precise tea he wanted, but then calms by blaming it on the system (system seems like such a familiar word in the context of dennis and his thoughts... I wonder what it could be referencing lol) So all of those little inconveniences that stop Dennis from doing what he wants, can in fact be attributed to the system. Not only does he acknowledge it's the system, but also that he isn't the only victim, that others suffer because of it.

16. The tsuma blares the song when he opens the door in the parking lot, and he's so focused on stifling it that he doesn't notice he's just made a mistake that will hurt him in the long run.

17. On the French dip, dee once again works in conjunction to Dennis, encouraging them not to eat it. Charlie is afraid of Dennis' wrath, but Mac wants for Dennis to come home and be happy. Mac tries to reassure dennis.

18. Overall an aggravating phone call, but the moment he turns it off there are almost reactionary consequences, a police car pulling him over.

19. Dennis comes up with his own metaphors for what he's going through in his mind, likening himself to a pressure cooker.

20. He also has Dee and Mac decide not to call because they want him to have a successful mental health day and respect his boundaries, but frank continues to belittle

21. Along the lines of 16, "Dennis' true self is the tsuma" theory, he goes into a fit of rage when he can't communicate with his car. Dennis is comfortable in the car, but when he exits he puts on a mask, and now can't get back in.

22. The true DENNIS System,

D-Deliver me from this as in get me out of having to demonstrate value

E-Engage with human as in wanting a real connection rather than a physical one

N-Nancy(boy)/Neighbor/Nightmare/Never ending as in repeatedly nurturing dependence in a way that hurts him with the wrong people

N-NIGHTMARE/Never gonna help me as in even worse than the first n, and him knowing that it only hurts to neglect emotionally

I-Is this real as in the potential of something real with inspire hope

S- Somebody help me as in him wanting to escape the system

23. By my reckoning there are 3 people the ceo could symbolize, those being Frank, mac, or Dennis as a mask.

a. Frank because he is so oblivious, able to live a live of lounging at the beach, but it was his actions and neglect which have led to Dennis being trapped in his own prison. The frank is an older figure, and it makes sense for the diamond to be derived from his heart as he is his offspring in a sense. Dennis is reclaiming his sense of free will, taking back control so he can live a life that isn't predestined by his upbringing. The hand on the chest is trying to make frank understand, dennis still gets the pleasure of violent retribution though.

b. Mac is the one orchestrating the pressure cooking of the diamonds, explains the extreme homoeroticism of the scene. The systems have been created to protect himself from mac, mac is allowed to lounge because he has found peace with himself (MFHP) Dennis wants that for himself, and receives it from mac. Mac reaches out first, at the encouragement of dennis, but is pushed away so dennis can show his appreciation, upon which mac looks shocked. They clearly understand and have sympathy for one another. A love song is playing, and dennis takes mac's purest essence for himself, showing how intertwined they are. Mac is left unhurt because it was about the gesture, not the carnage.

C. Dennis as a mask, or what Dennis has made himself into to survive, lounges because he has been given control over the inner dennis. He has created all of the systems, and tsuma is his, made into a form that he can control for his own benefit. Dennis is his own worst enemy, and seeks to deconstruct this unfeeling being in order to find himself. He has a touching moment with himself, where mask dennis realizes that it is necessary that true dennis come to power. explains the homoeroticism because of narcissism, and ultimately true dennis decides the most humane thing he can do is leave behind mask dennis, killing him gently and taking his heart, condensing it into a diamond that symbolizes his innate goodness and incorporating it into true dennis.

I personally think it's a mixture of all three, but regardless this IS Dennis' catharsis. The motifs are there (crying, a powerful body of water) and dennis takes back control, actively choosing to be better. it's different, but it's still there.

24. In the end, when it's all revealed to be a glimpse into Dennis' mind and he's lowered his blood pressure, it's not because he's won per say. before the title, Dennis was keying up for some kind of angry meltdown, but he takes a moment and thinks better. i wouldn't say Dennis has had just one catharsis, but a million little ones in his mind since the season started, a million little choices to be kinder, more patient, better. He calms down and has found at least a temporary solution to his problem (The kratom doesn't hurt either) dennis has gotten so much better with interacting with others this season tbh, and to continue that to an extent would stop him from being the dennis we all know and love, sleazy and manipulative. And what he loves, what he knows will help him, is to be with the gang, his family. And he makes the choice to go to them too.

Remember, there is a structure. It will be fulfilled. (And if it isn't, at least we have FVR and Tends Bar)

[nolesserhuman]

what a match, I'm half-doomed and you're semi-sweet. [part 1]

PM Dazai + reader "you'll never remember, your head is far too blurry" // Dazai doesn't know how to take allergy meds. ~3.k words warnings: misuse of medication, dazai-typical suicide references. ao3.

Dazai is beginning to suspect that something might actually be wrong this time.

Admittedly, he always wakes up feeling bad— for whatever reason, he manages to convince himself that he definitely won’t be hungover this time— so when there’s a sharp pressure behind his eyes before he even opens them, he vows for the third time this week to swear off alcohol. It’s only Tuesday.

When he rolls over to bury his face back into his pillow, a loud groan works its way out of Dazai’s throat, one that echoes off the walls of his shipping container as if he’s surrounded by constant misery. 

Every muscle in his body aches. When he inhales, his chest is sticky; trying to rub the sleep out of his eyes, his limbs feel like they’re filled with sand. Too heavy. Whatever he’d done yesterday couldn’t have tired him out this badly— it’s probably just his shell of a body protesting the idea of work. The rest of him doesn’t want to work either.

Dazai mashes his face against the thin pillow and hopes he suffocates. But he can’t do that quite yet; there’s a meeting with Mori today, and if he skips that, the doctor won’t even let his death be peaceful.

A cough rudely interrupts his thoughts. His chest tightens, and Dazai tries to stifle it, but that only makes it worse; he can feel his lung spasm behind his ribs and, as a hacking fit finally bursts out of him, Dazai tumbles out of bed and to the floor, determined not to cough up phlegm in the one place he’s able to sleep.

He hits the steel floor with too hard of a thud for someone so clinically underweight. The chill seeps through Dazai’s thin clothing and cotton gauze and saps the remnants of heat from his frail body. Dazai lays there for who knows how long, staring blankly up at the ceiling in a daze. His breath rattles in his chest with every shaky exhale.

From somewhere in the dark, his phone chimes. Dazai groans again, hands fumbling across the cold metal, through the ratty fabric of his blanket. His fingers finally close around the damned thing. When he flips it open, the harsh light from the screen angers whatever ache is rattling around in his skull. 

It’s just a message from you. Dazai flips his phone closed and tosses it back into the dark.

He coughs again, wet and sticky. Laying on his back like this feels like he’s drowning in whatever gunk had filled his chest overnight. It’s not as painless as a death as he’d hope for. Another twinge of pain in his chest and Dazai’s body reacts on its own. He finds himself propped up on his elbows as he coughs violently, gasping for air between each wheeze. He spits up a wad of phlegm and makes a face at the disgusting taste that lingers on the back of his tongue.

The coughs eventually quiet down. Dazai lays there panting for a moment, trying to catch his breath. His phone chimes again somewhere— probably another message from you, urging him to crawl out of his tin grave just a little bit faster. He spits once more and hauls his heavy body to its feet.

Getting dressed is a pain. Dazai’s usual brand of gauze bandages is now irritating his sensitive skin as he drags his shirt over his shoulders. His delicate fingers fumble with his belt and tie even though he can normally fasten them blind. He has to stop every few moments to catch his breath again.

He can ignore that. He’s got a meeting to get to.

When he pushes open the door of the shipping container he calls a home, it screeches, in the same way he does when touched without permission. The route to headquarters is, of course, memorized— they all are, actually, whether by foot or car or in potential flood. Dazai doesn’t even have to think about it as he walks. Which is good, because Dazai isn’t thinking much at all right now.

Today is too bright. Dazai grimaces as the sun reignites the ache behind his eyes, his vision blurring in the washed-out daylight of Yokohama. The heat goes unnoticed and does nothing for Dazai’s wet cough.

While he may deny the concept of sickness— sometimes his body just doesn’t work right, what else would you expect from a broken toy?— Dazai has spent enough time in Mori’s care to know that this is a punishable offense. He’s whining about a headache, really? Coughing while the boss has something important to say? Can’t have that. Dazai isn’t too sure how Mori would punish this string of personal failures, but even thinking about it feels like ice water dripping down his spine. Or maybe that’s the fever.

For the first time in months, Dazai’s path diverges from the map in his head.

His body turns to the right. Glass doors whoosh open, a soft bell chimes overhead, the teenager behind the counter offers a hesitant greeting. Dazai ignores all of it, blinking against the harsh fluorescence of the convenience store.

The lights buzz at the same frequency as whatever’s vibrating in his skull.

Allergy medication is lined up in a row on the back shelves. Beneath that, cold medicine. Dazai isn’t entirely sure of the difference.

The main thing Dazai does know is that he’s not actually allowed to have pills. He can take them, when they’re given by Mori, and only under strict supervision. But he’s not allowed to have them himself. Bit of an absurd rule, honestly— if he was determined enough for a way out of everything, he could always just step into traffic.

Dazai doesn’t like pain or suffering, and right now he’s definitely suffering. Another cough hitches in his chest and almost has him hacking up gunk all over the shelves— but drawing attention in public is a nightmare scenario for his paranoia, so Dazai finds him gritting his teeth to swallow back whatever slime is crawling its way up his throat.

It sits heavy in his stomach and makes him nauseous.

Every bottle on the shelves looks the same to him, so Dazai just snatches one and shoves it into a coat pocket. The pills rattle against the plastic with every step. He doesn’t break stride as he passes the baffled employee at the counter.

Once he’s back outside and around a corner, Dazai pulls the bottle from his pocket and examines the label. He’d snatched them on a calculated impulse, driven by the grossness in his chest— but if he’s caught with them, he’ll be in just as much trouble as if he’d simply shown up sick, if not more.

Not that he’s sick.

The office building is within sight now, so Dazai only has a moment to make a decision. Can’t be caught with contraband if you’ve swallowed it all.

After a brief battle with the child safety lid he’s able to dump a small mound of the pills into the palm of his hand. He stares at them for a brief moment before tossing his head back and swallowing them dry.

Immediately his lungs catch; he coughs and gags, some of the half-swallowed pills coming right back up his sore throat and almost out his mouth. He gags again at the bitter taste of the dissolving capsules— burnt plastic settling and numbing his tongue— but forces himself to finish swallowing. They’ve gotta be gone before he reaches the office.

Winded and wheezing, he stops to lean against the corner of the office building. Even though he’s wearing a coat and standing in direct sunlight, he shudders, a chill settled into his empty bones. If he can just give the meds a moment to kick in—

Obviously the universe has other plans. From his pocket, his phone rings and startles him out of his daze; when he glances at the caller ID, it’s just you again. Dazai sends the call to voicemail.

Thankfully, nobody ever pays attention when Dazai arrives at the office; he’s able to scramble into the elevator without having to greet anyone in his croaky voice. He brings the sleeve of his oversized coat up to cover his mouth, not entirely sure if he’s stifling a cough or a wave of nausea. When the elevator lurches, so does his stomach; Dazai stumbles against the glass with a soft whine. Usually the sight of the world growing smaller would set off his vertigo, but at the moment he’s having trouble even keeping his eyes open, so whatever’s on the other side of his eyelids doesn’t quite matter.

The elevator dings to signal he’s reached the top floor. The doors slide open and, once he’s stepped out into the hallway, Dazai has to take a moment to wheeze. He coughs into his sleeve again, gross and wet, weighed down by the flood in his ribs. It’s just a corporate hallway, but standing here ill has anxiety prickling up his spine; anyone could walk by at any moment, there’s nowhere for him to hide, and he’ll be reported for being a broken toy. How long will it take for the pills to kick in—?

“Dazai?”

Not Mori’s voice, but Dazai freezes anyways. He hadn’t wanted to see you either— but anything is better than interacting with Mori. He wipes his mouth and turns to face you.

Your hand latches onto the collar of his dress shirt and you begin to drag him along behind you. “Took you long enough!” You huff and give a particularly hard yank, one that has Dazai stumbling. “Ignoring my calls— you’re lucky I got him to wait a few more minutes—”

Late? Was Dazai late? That doesn’t sound right in his head; he always knows what time it is. Before he can catch his voice or momentum, you’ve dragged him through the intimidating doors at the end of the hall and come to a stop in front of Mori’s desk. When your hand disentangles from his shirt, Dazai is vaguely bemused at the loss of warmth.

“We’re here, boss.”

Mori glances up from the paperwork strewn across his desk. His facial expression is carefully neutral— but even that’s enough to quietly activate Dazai’s fight or flight, and he can feel his pulse pick up under the doctor’s scrutiny. It flutters uncomfortably in the spot just beneath his ribs, even though Dazai’s pretty sure that’s not where his heart is supposed to be. He’s sure it’ll escape its cage someday.

“Kind of you to finally join us, Dazai,” Mori leans back in his chair to examine you both. He stares at the two of you in the same way you’ve seen him eye his autopsy tools. “I expect there will be no further interruptions to the schedule?”

Dazai’s traitor of a voice sticks in his throat. Unwilling to give himself away that easily— although he’s sure he’s blatantly labeled, like a game of Operation— he just keeps his eyes on the ground and shakes his head. Thankfully Mori has more important things to do beyond staring at his toy until it combusts.

“I’ll need the two of you to—”

Usually Dazai pays strict attention to the mission briefings. Especially if he’s paired with you or Chuuya, because he knows neither of you are as worried as he is about being dissected. Sure, he’ll mouth off— he’ll argue— he’ll poke holes in Mori’s thoughts until the man seems ready to flay him alive. But today, even his typical smarmy behavior is too much effort for his fuzzy head. Every word out of Mori’s mouth sounds like it’s drifting through water to reach Dazai’s ears. All his effort goes towards acting normal— a tall order, for a thing like Dazai. Breathe in, breathe out, on a regular rhythm, not fast enough to draw attention; when a cough sticks in his throat again, his breathing gets shallow instead, and he’s not sure how long he can fake it.

His attention wanders. Looking at Mori is always difficult, so Dazai busies himself with examining his polished shoes, the softness of your hair, the clouds drifting by outside the window—

Papers shuffle. Your hand tugs at Dazai’s coat sleeve. He slowly drifts back into the moment; the meeting is over. He hadn’t heard a damned word.

The walk down the hallway feels off. You’d made this same trek with Dazai just last week, and he’d been energetic, playful, doing his best to drive you up the walls. Today, though, he’s padding along quietly behind you. That’s more suspicious than anything else you’ve ever seen him do.

“—so, your opinion?” Any easy question to start with, although you’re willing to push his buttons if it means gauging how he feels.

Dazai knows he can’t ignore you outright, but he also knows you’re not stupid enough to overlook the rasp to his voice. He just hums in response as if he’s thinking of an answer. The sound comes out smoothly enough that it startles him— maybe the meds have actually kicked in. Makes him wonder why his head is still fuzzy around the edges, though.

“It’s an easy mission,” Dazai tests his voice carefully, “even someone like you should be able to figure it out.”

“I know it’s easy,” you shoulder open a glass door, finally leading the both of you back outside into the sunlight. Dazai blinks rapidly as he tries to adjust. “That’s why I’m asking your opinion— where should we start?”

Damn. Dazai’s head had been so floaty, he’d paid no attention to the briefing. He’d been hoping you would accidentally give him a hint, but you’re just watching his face intently, so he has to keep it neutral.

It didn't work— apparently he’d taken just a second too long to think, because you’re reaching out, your hand working its way under his bangs to feel at his forehead. Dazai leans into the touch without thinking about it.

“You’re hot.”

“I know.” A smile twitches across his tired face and you scoff.

“Are you sure you’re okay enough for recon?”

There’s the hint he’d been hoping for. Dazai pulls himself back from your touch and sniffles. “I can walk,” he says defiantly.

Not the question you asked.

Before you can suggest that he— God forbid— take the day off, Dazai escapes your grasp entirely. He wobbles on his feet and preemptively shoots a glare in your direction, daring you to say anything. His unbandaged eye is glassy.

Dazai is a flight risk. Mori is expecting you both to work on this mission together, even though it really is simple. It’s better not to push your temporary partner too hard right now.

Recon and surveillance are always easy, especially when you’re paired with Dazai. Normally he’s lightyears ahead of you, locations memorized in an instant. Today, he’s quiet— too quiet, and you have to keep glancing over your shoulder to make sure he hasn’t vanished into the crowd.

Dazai is hyper aware of your eyes on him the entire walk. Being watched always makes his skin crawl, even when he knows you couldn’t catch him if he was determined to get away, but he’s too tired to be mean at the moment so he doesn’t say anything.

You’ve never really been the one leading surveillance missions, but Dazai is clearly lost in his own world. When you stop to make note of a fire escape, he stumbles into you and flinches back like it burns; when you ask him about one building’s rooftop, he doesn’t even make a comment about jumping.

Wandering behind you, Dazai’s head still feels like it’s somewhere far off from the rest of his body. Is medication supposed to make you feel like this? He’d felt fine for all of ten minutes after taking the pills, but they must be wearing off, because his chest feels tight again, and more vague pain is beginning to pulse in his bones. The world is starting to twist at the edge of his vision— it’s all Dazai can do to keep his gaze focused on your back as he pushes forward.

Maybe he should take a few more.

It would be a major risk to pull the pills out in front of you— well, behind your back, but you could turn around at any moment. Dazai’s delicate fingers deftly untwist the cap in his coat pocket. The stupid gel capsules tumble free like escaped marbles. He makes a face as they shift around in his pocket, but when your head is turned, he pops another handful into his mouth.

Eugh, the burnt plastic taste on the back of his tongue—

“Maybe we should get a taller view,” your voice almost sounds like it’s underwater. Dazai shakes his head to drain his ears, and that sets the world spinning around him.

“What, you don’t wanna?” Hands in your jacket pockets, you nudge Dazai with your shoulder, and he sways on his feet. “If you’ve already perfected our strategies, you should tell me— I’m gonna start slackin’ off.”

Slacking off. That sounds really nice right about now. Absently, one of Dazais hands comes up to press against the ache in his sternum, massaging with the sharpness of his knuckles. Dazai never does anything softly.

He can feel his heart cracking against his ribs. An uncomfortable feeling that he figures he deserves.

“��Dazai?”

He blinks, big doe eyes slowly tracking over to you, silhouetted against the Yokohama sun. A concerned frown crosses your face. He still hasn’t responded to you, and the look in his eyes is hazy. “Hey, let’s go take a break somewhere. I’m tired.”

It’s easier to lie about your own condition than it is to get Osamu Dazai to be honest about himself.

Dazai nods blankly, meaning he can at least hear your voice. You nudge him forward again; his steps are shaky and, combined with his big brown eyes and dusting of freckles, he looks exactly like a lost baby deer. 

You know that, deep down, Dazai must be some form of anxious. Anyone can tell that he’s feeling unwell just by looking at him, and he hates being forced into such a vulnerable position. Gently, you push and prod until you’ve managed to get him into an alleyway, nice and dark, a place to rest out of view. The Port Mafia knows the backstreets better than anyone in this city.

Every step for Dazai feels like wading through quicksand— or at least the way he’d imagined quicksand would feel, when he was thinking about ways to die. His muscles burn in protest. His eyelids feel gritty as they slide closed; knowing he can’t fall asleep here, he slouches his lanky body against you.

“Let’s go back,” he mumbles into the crook of your neck.

You hum quietly in agreement. Dazai is never this open to touch, and you don’t want to scare him away in such a rare moment where he openly relies on you. It seems the same thoughts cross his hazy mind all at once.

Dazai shoves you away with an impulse that surprises you both.

“What the hell—?!” You’re able to catch yourself without much effort. Your obstinate boss isn’t quite as lucky.

Dazai tumbles into a nearby brick wall with enough force to knock the wind out of him. That doesn’t stop his lungs from constricting as he gasps for air, face twisted in the panic that accompanies an inability to breathe.

His vision darkens at the edges. The impact had also knocked the fucking pill bottle out of his pocket. You’re staring at the label. You’ve seen it. He’s not supposed to have pills. You’ve seen it. His chest heaves.

“Dazai, hey, you need to breathe—”

When your hands come up, Dazai flinches back again. His head slams against the brick. The sting barely registers— even as your hand cups the back of his head, even as you wince at the thin coating of blood on your fingers, all Dazai can see are the brightly-colored pills scattered across the sidewalk. Adrenaline floods his frail body until his limbs go cold. His traitorous body decides that now is the time to expel his lungs.

The coughing fit has him doubled over, hacking so hard that he gags, spitting up more gunk and saliva.

When you inevitably reach out to him again, Dazai wrestles his way out of your grasp, pointedly pressing his face against the rough brick in a desperate bid to avoid your scrutiny. He doesn’t have to look— he can feel your eyes on him through the shield of Mori’s coat. It prickles along his feverish skin and reduces him to feeling positively miniscule. Heat crawls up his neck as nausea begins to bubble in his stomach.

Dazai is exhausted all at once. Usually he can ignore his body’s limits, but that’s not an option now; you know that he’s taken medication, so he needs to get out of here, spin a lie to Mori before you have the chance to tell the truth. He shoves himself away from the wall as if the burst of strength will get him back to the familiar glass doors.

It doesn’t help at all. Dazai tilts forward, eyes sliding closed as the concrete rushes up to meet him.

I've been working on this thing for about two months and finally decided that splitting it into chapters would work better than making it as long as it was getting, so! part two up. eventually lmao. thank you for reading!

[a-true-renaissance-woman]

01/07/2025

The consequences of being a bad person

–

There are unfortunate side effects of being an English major. I vaguely remember seeing a bit about this at some point. The comedian joked that he couldn’t just see “a chair;” he could only gaze upon and consider this ephemera, destined to one day be cast aside as a relic of a bygone era. Or something to that effect. My point being, I don’t just see things for what they are, in the same way an architect doesn’t just see a building, or a musician a song.

I read into everything by nature, and I dig deeper than I should, trying to examine every last nook and cranny of any and every occurrence in my life because that’s what I’ve been trained to do. It’s agonizing and exhausting. To everyone who has ever had the thought that I would be better off caring less and not taking things so seriously, and there are a lot of you, I must stress that I wholeheartedly agree. I really do. Unfortunately, I find that I possess many deeply ingrained beliefs, habits and general ways of being that prevent me from embodying the “chill” version of myself that I would also much prefer. If it were easy, I wouldn’t be here writing this right now, and I would likely be on much fewer medications.

This issue of overthinking is, of course, not exclusive to English majors. I believe it’s human nature to briefly spiral from time to time regarding the state of your life and the choices you’ve made. But I fear that my experience may be deeper and more painful than some. I’ve known and borne witness to such a range of personalities in my life thus far, that it’s often difficult for me to identify a baseline off which to refer things to. I don’t know what the scale is. So when I, myself, experience what I would define as a life-altering event, I’m not always sure what the appropriate response is. Am I just blowing things out of proportion, or am I truly valid in my reaction? Am I just mentally ill and having a mentally-ill-person moment? I know I have a literal mental illness, so it’s something I have to take into consideration. Somewhere around here is when I think I begin veering into, what I might consider, the “critical analysis danger zone,” – one of those aforementioned side effects of being an English major.

I have a deep-seated need to understand the world around me. I need to know what’s going on, and I need to be able to make sense of it. If it doesn’t make sense, then I feel like I’m not in control. And if I feel like I’m not in control, I don’t feel good. And when I don’t feel good, I make bad choices. You can see where this is going. And again I say, to those who have ever suggested that I learn to let things go, I can assure you that I am trying desperately, and I would love it if that came naturally to me. But it doesn’t. I fixate, and I poke, and I prod until I wear myself down to the state I currently find myself in — an empty shell of my former self.

My relationship ended on New Year’s Day via iMessage. He wouldn’t take a call with me. I implored him to do so, but he either wouldn’t or couldn’t do it. I didn’t get a live breakup. I got a recording of a voice that sounded wholly detached from the person who once made me feel like I mattered. It was jarring, and made me doubt whether any of it was ever genuine.

Just like the rest of our relationship, we were ever so slightly out of step. By the time I was done listening to his final thoughts on us, he had surely already closed his phone and put the thought out of his mind. He moved on before I even got the chance to feel my feelings at all. Nevertheless, following months of excruciating ambiguity over what we were, he said the words explicitly, but only because I asked for them. He did not offer them freely or without obstacle. Instead, I was made to chase them down, begging and pleading for the clarity that would finally bring me peace and the opportunity to move on. In doing so, I unfortunately ruined his day. He told me so, and that he wouldn’t even try to hide it.

Granted, my direct actions leading up to this moment were impulsive and emotionally-fueled, and I understand why the abruptness sparked indignation in him. But, out of everything, I couldn’t help but fixate on this statement in particular, as it instinctively prompted me to furrow my brow and jut my chin forward in confusion. Did he just imply that he typically does try to hide it? I hadn’t realized he’d ever made that effort. Not once in two years did I ever feel oblivious to his frequent bouts of coldness, no doubt stemming from an unspoken disregard for me, in addition to his own demons. I wondered how much more there was, lingering beneath the surface all this time, about the ways I truly made him feel.

It’s the annoyance that I think hurts most, because at least if he’s angry, that means he cares. It implies that he’s invested enough time, effort, and energy into thinking about our situation that perhaps he might even be compelled to seek his answers or closure for himself. I wanted him to have anything to say. But naturally, my ever-perceived neediness was met with a voice completely detached from the person who once made me feel safe and capable. It told me finally, in no uncertain terms, that we were done. That all of this is not his problem anymore. In my head, I pictured him gesturing in my direction, looking me up and down, making it abundantly clear that I was “this.” My existence in his life is now a burden, and one which is at odds with the positivity and good things he’s surrounded himself with since abandoning me and our home that I so earnestly tended to. I hate myself for the days I succumbed to feeling normal human emotions. I hate myself for ever bringing negativity into his life. I hate that I was ever a bother.

I’m sure many could’ve skipped this struggle for closure without looking back. I envy them for that — to be so unyielding in your self-certainty as to walk away knowing that you are choosing yourself, and that you will be better for it. He chose himself when he left. There was never any confusion on that point. He did not overthink it. In fact, I’d argue that he underthought it. But I’m hardly ignorant to the path that led us here.

I started dating him because he reminded me of someone else. I never told him that. I felt guilty about it every day. I still do.

I lied to him from day one, so I tend to attribute blame to myself for most everything that’s unfolded since then, because it was me who committed the original sin. It’s my deepest darkest secret, and my biggest shame. I used him before he ever used me, and so it feels hypocritical for me to hold ill will towards him because it was my desperation for a substitute that sustained us. In the beginning anyway. My faults and weaknesses brought us into being, and I corrupted us from the start.

But even after everything that’s happened and all the havoc he's wreaked in my life, I still picture the face he might make if he ever discovered this information, and I feel shame to the point of nausea. But in spite of all the disdain he’s expressed towards me, I need to believe that he cared enough about me for this revelation to have some impact. Any at all really. And the selfish, bitter, vindictive part of me hopes it would hurt. I hope it stings. Except — no I don’t. Because I love him. And because I do, I again feel nauseous.

—

My final act of love for you is letting go. I would’ve done anything to make you happy, and I think letting go will finally do that. It was the truth all along that I could never face. Neither of us could. So please, by all means — forget. You have my blessing. Forget the ways you made me feel. All of them. Because you can’t feel bad if I’m not there. Make it like I never was. Leave all of this — all of me — behind.

Then… that’s it. I can’t hurt you anymore, because you can’t hurt me. I hope it’s enough, and I hope you’re happy now.

I’ll hold the memories for both of us and carry their weight, because forgetting is sad. Remembering is strength. It keeps you whole. The weight will ground me in my own pursuit of happiness, so that when I finally find it, I can have it in its entirety. The good and the bad, because I’ll feel capable all on my own. I will be capable.

I love you, and I’ll miss you. More than you’ll ever know. Goodbye, and good luck. I hope my city treats you kindly. Please give the loon a kiss for me.

[amhrosina]

The Red Room - Pt. 2 (Matt Murdock x Reader)

MASTERLIST // JOIN MY TAGLIST

Part 1 Part 3 (Coming Soon)

Summary: You learn a secret about Matt as he continues to help you escape the Red Room. Your assignment grows more and more suspicious, and a trip down memory lane sends you spiraling.

(Warnings: guns, physical fighting, cursing, references to psychological torture, eventual smut lol, references to reader’s life as a Black Widow, reader threatens Matt, reader doesn’t know Matt is Daredevil, this is somewhat of a divergence from the canon story, watch me make shit up about the Red Room)

The air was somewhere close to freezing, even though the sun was out, and even then, it took you 15 minutes of shaking in your boots to realize that it had been months since you’d seen the sun. Your missions were almost always carried out at night, when you could use the darkness to your advantage. The rest of your time was spent training on the air carrier that the Widows called home base.  

It was pure luck that you had been close enough to a payphone to call the number on the business card. You’d gotten a couple chances before then, but each time you’d dialed the number, you would lose your nerve and hang up before the first ring could finish. Not this time, though. 

A polite, female voice answered, and you couldn’t tell if that soothed or unnerved you. The man on the roof had used ‘he’ when referencing his friend, so you weren’t exactly expecting a woman to be on the other end of the line.  

“Can I help you?” 

“Is Murdock in?” You ran your fingers along the cord, trying to ignore the tightness in your chest. 

“Yes, I’ll transfer you now. Is he expecting your call?” 

“I think so?”  

The line trilled for a few moments before a man picked up, and god damnit if you didn’t recognize his voice almost immediately. 

 “This is Matthew Murdock. Can I ask who’s calling?” 

“Oh. My fucking. God.” You muttered into the phone. You resisted the urge to hang up the phone and then destroy the payphone entirely. 

“Excuse me?” Confusion rang clear in his tone. 

“You’re the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen?” 

“I see you’ve done some research.” Matt cleared his throat, but you could tell his signature smirk was resting on his face. “I’m assuming this is the girl from the roof?” 

“I don’t know. Do you meet a lot of women on rooftops, Matthew?” You gritted your teeth.  

“Not particularly. What took you so long to call?” 

“I’ve been busy. And I had to wait until I knew it was safe to call, which by the way, isn’t guaranteed on these payphones. Meet me in the same place as last time in half an hour, okay?” You paused. “Please?” 

“I’ll see you soon.” 

The line clicked, and you listened to the dial tone for much longer than you meant to. Were you really doing this? You nodded, even though you weren’t talking to anyone. Yes, you were really doing this. This was your only shot at getting out, possibly finding your birth mother, and finally making a life of your own.  

Matt found you on the roof not long after you’d settled down to observe your target. He was back at the same diner, and you were still under strict instructions not to kill him. You still didn’t understand why they’d send you on such low rank missions, but it wasn’t your job to ask questions. You were trained to obey. 

When Matt cleared his throat behind you, you didn’t know what to expect in his appearance, but you certainly weren’t expecting red glasses and a walking cane. You eyed his dress suit. Clearly, he came straight from his office. He hadn’t dawned the costume for this meeting, which either meant he was planning on a quick meeting, or he didn’t think he needed to keep up appearances now that you’d figured out who he was. 

“You’re blind.” The minute the observation was out of your mouth, you felt like a dumbass. Obviously he knew he was blind, and you clearly needed to work on your social skills if you were going to defect from the Red Room and enter the real world.  

“Oh, shit. You’re right!” Matt laughed, folding his cane up and leaning against the ledge of the roof near you.  

“Sorry.” You grimaced. “That came out wrong. What I meant to say was ‘Sorry for nearly killing you on the roof the other night.’” 

“Ancient history, darling.” Matt grinned, pulling a manilla envelope from his jacket’s inner pocket.  

“What’s that?” 

“This is how we’re going to get you out. I helped another Widow a while back, and she gave me intel on the way the Red Room tracks the Widows. Everything you need to know is in that folder, and I’ll be running point on the technical stuff like passports, ID’s, and even library card records. You could be out and on the beach in Italy in three weeks if everything goes well.” 

“That was fast.” You flipped through the different documents, some half-finished, some only missing a photo or a name. 

“I started working on in the night we met.” He shrugged, like what he was doing wasn’t highly dangerous and an incredibly risky move. 

“Thank you.” You squeaked, suddenly overcome with an emotion you couldn’t place. “Can I ask you to do something else for me?” 

“Of course.” 

“My birth mother,” you started, swallowing your fear, “I don’t know if you have any idea how I could find her. I don’t even know my birth name. And I can’t trust anything that I’ve been told about her.” 

“I’ll see what I can do, but…” Matt bristled, clearly too uncomfortable to blatantly ask whatever he needed to know. 

“What is it?” You asked, looking away from him.  

“How do you feel about spitting in a cup?” 

- 

“Well, now that that’s sorted.” You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand. To say that you didn’t have ‘spit in a cup for an almost-stranger’ on your to-do list today would be a massive understatement.  

“It’s a stretch, but you’d be surprised how many records are digital now. If your mom was ever in the system, her DNA would be there, too. It’s a starting point, at least.” 

“I wish I could give you more than a ‘thank you’, but I don’t actually own anything.” You muttered, wishing in that moment so badly that you’d had a normal childhood.  

“Don’t worry about that. I’m sure we can think of ways for you to repay me.” Matt grinned, “Like cleaning the office toilet. And rubbing my feet after long nights.” 

You laughed, and the sound startled you. When was the last time you’d laughed? Had it really been years since you’d had something to smile at, let alone laugh at? You wracked your brain to remember a time that you’d felt joy, or even a glimpse of happiness, but you came up empty.  

“Where’d you go?” Matt asked, tilting his head.  

“It’s nothing.” You shook your head, refocusing on the target you were supposed to be surveilling. He was in the same booth as last time, but much more sober and alert. He checked the time on his watch for the third time since he’d sat down, almost like he was waiting for someone to show up.  

Matt returned the documents to the envelope while you glanced around the street below. Your eyes snagged on the two people entering the diner. The target was waiting for someone, like you had deduced, but what you hadn’t expected was that person to be a first grader with a glittery unicorn themed backpack on. The other person, who you guessed had to be the mother of the little girl, waved as she exited the diner and headed back the way she came. 

You let out a slow breath. Whatever the Red Room’s goal was with this target, it couldn’t be good for that little girl. You dreaded the day your orders would come through, and hoped that Matt could get you out before that day came.  

“Who is it that you’re watching?” Matt asked, unfolding his cane. 

“Some tech genius that managed to piss off the wrong people. I’ve been watching him for weeks, but they haven’t asked me to pull the trigger yet. I didn’t know he had a kid, though.” 

“Would you?” 

“Would I what?” You asked. The girl was now showing your target her sparkly pencil case.  

“Shoot him. If they asked you to.”  

“I would’ve, once.” You admitted. “But their psychological bullshit doesn’t work on me anymore. I don’t want to be an assassin.” 

“What do you want to be?” He pried, fiddling with his cane.  

“I don’t know.” You shrugged. “But I know I don’t want to kill for Dreykov anymore.” 

Matt nodded, seemingly satisfied with your response. 

“What was the name of the Widow you helped?”  

You had been wondering this since he’d mentioned it on the roof the first night you’d met. You couldn’t recall a Widow that had escaped, but they made sure to keep the Widows separated from each other for that very reason. There was no gossip, no friends, no connection when you were in the Red Room. You were a warrior, a clone, an assassin. You were one of Dreykov’s knives, a weapon of mass destruction, at best. At worst, you were no one and nothing. 

“Natasha.” Matt responded. “Did you know her?” 

Your blood ran cold. You knew Natasha. Everyone did, because she was public enemy number one for a Widow. If you found her, your orders, along with every single one of the thousands of active Widows in the Red Room, were to bring her to Dreykov. Dead or alive, he didn’t care, but Natasha had been missing for years, and no one could find any trace of her.  

“No.” You finally replied. “I don’t know her.” 

You didn’t know why you lied to him. Thus far, Matt had been the only person you had ever been able to trust, but something about opening up to him about your time in the Red Room felt wrong. You weren’t ready to expose the horrors you’d experienced in the Red Room, and certainly not to a man you barely knew. 

“Okay.” Matt nodded and a small smile crept onto his face. “Just keep doing what you’re doing. They have no reason to suspect you. We’ll talk soon, okay?” 

“Okay.” You nodded. “Thanks for all the help.” 

“Thanks for not shooting me.”

Tag List:

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[non-bionical-mecha-dude]

Leo x gn!reader in which reader plays guitar but is shy about playing for others, and Leo comes to surprise visit but stops outside their open window because they're playing, and gets flustered by how good Y/N is 🤗. You can decide an ending :3

THIS SOUNDS SO CUTE, This'll be fun to write 💅🏻✨

All Dialogue is colored to the corresponding mask of the turtles and Y/N's Dialogue is Pink (Regardless of gender) This is to help those with reading disabilities and reading difficulties to better understand what is being said and who is saying it. I HOPE YOU ENJOY

Also, the song referenced is called Tough, by Charlie XCX I think

ROTTMNT LEO X READER WHO PLAYS THE GUITAR

Leo had heard over a conversation one time that you play the guitar, now, being a mutant with only 3 fingers, that didn't really leave much room for any musical involvement with instruments, so hearing this astounded him. He constantly asked for you to play, time and time again, and each time you refused, saying how you weren't good, or how you didn't play infront of others. Although he very DESPERATELY wanted to hear you play, he respected your decision and tried with all his might to quite bothering you on the matter.

~Time skip, a couple days later~

You had been let out of school early due to a school faculty meeting. And sure, you could be doing homework, or that book report due in a week, but now wasn't the time. You wanted to try some more playing at your guitar, as embarrassed as you were about playing it in front of others, you enjoyed learning and playing new songs, sure, they took a lot practice, looking over note sheets, and understanding the fingering of each note, but it was all usual worth it. You had been hooked on this one song you knew both you and your boyfriend Leo knew, it wasn't a romantic song or anything, but it was a song you both seemed to enjoy. The song even reminded you of Leo, and the personality he had behind the jokes and smiles, but you would never tell him that. And maybe, you thought to yourself, maybe when you finally perfect it, you would play it for him. Help you get out of your shell as he would say, pun intended. You raced home, opening the door, running to your room, and getting your guitar out of it's case. You felt of the dark wood and the thick, yet fragile strings the instrument was laced with, strumming a few notes to warm up your fingers. You took out your phone, clicked the song you were hoping to play Leo some day, plugged your headphones in, and began to practice strumming the guitar to the song, using the song itself as a reference to each note that was needed to be played.

The lair was boring around this time, Y/N was still in school, Raph was training, Donnie was doing some nerd thing, Mikey was probably making some sort of graffiti somewhere, and Splinter was just sleeping on the chair as usual. So, Leo thought of the only thing a sensible person would do when they're bored. And that's breaking into your lover's apartment and waiting until they get home from school :D. As soon as 2:00 struck, he raced his way out of the sewers, and onto the roofs of New York. He took his sweet time walking to your house, sure, he could run, but if he ran, then he'd have to wait in one spot for longer, so, taking a small stroll wouldn't hurt. He got to your house at about 2:31, he counted each window and story to make sure that he got the right window (he had accidentally came to your house with flowers one time, but went to the wrong window and had to pretend to be some blind grandma's great grandson visiting from Saudi Arabia, it was actually kinda funny).

Quietly opening your window, he was about to step in, when he heard the most beautiful thing. Music. Oh, but this wasn't any type of music, it was music that YOU we're playing. He looked inside, seeing how you finished some sort of song. Your face looked so focused on your guitar as you sat criss crossed on the floor with your guitar in your lap. You didn't seem to notice Leo in the window. You played a couple of the last notes you had messed up on, before you started the song again. Then Leo recognized it, it was a song you both liked. The way you played the first notes was so beautiful, he had to lean against the window sill because of how weak in the knees he is from this. Getting the best idea ever, he smirked to himself and thought, Well, a little duet would never hurt nobody. He softly cleared his throat, waiting for you to get to the part of the song with the lyrics. The song was a nice song, one you could even slow dance to if you had the determination to do so, along with the lyrics being one's you had to think of to understand. Leo's not even sure how you both came across this song, but this song just made you both feel so happy together. He could fill a book with how many things this song reminded him of you, but he had to focus on singing the part we wanted to sing if he wanted to continue this.

🎶Maybe it's cause your mom never kissed you🎶

🎶When you wipe tears you wipe with muscle tissue🎶

🎶You bench pressing more than me's not the issue🎶

🎶I know you're honestly weaker than that🎶

🎶Let's open up and get deeper than that🎶

You zipped your head to immediately look at the turtle perching in your window, your cheeks beet red with embarrassment, you wanted to stop, but the second your fingers started to slow, Leo made a motion with his hands and wordlessly said the words,

"Don't stop"

You complied and nodded, taking your headphones off, taking a deep breath and continuing to play as Leo sang.

🎶 You're not so tough🎶

🎶I know that night lights on when you sleep🎶

🎶You're not so tough🎶

🎶Yeah you watch, eat, pray, love and repeat🎶

🎶And I'm sure you'd win in an altercation 🎶

🎶But you're still insecure to me🎶

🎶Oh so mess me up🎶

🎶I know you're not so tough 🎶

You ended the song there, and sure, it wasn't the actual ending of the song, and you would have loved to hear Leo keep singing, but it was a good place to stop and you had to talk to him. You gently lay your guitar on the ground and ran over to hug him, hiding your blushing have in his shoulder.

"So, what was that? You saying before how you weren't good at playing?" He teased, coming fully through your window and spinning you around.

"Oh please, i-it wasn't even that good" Leo looked stunned, speechless. He gave a dramatic gasp.

"Not good?! Baby, that was the best music I've ever heard!!! You NEED to play more often!"

"It was only good because I had the best back up singer ever to go with it!" You flirted back. You knew this would fuel his ego up later, but you didn't care.

"You know it! We could make the best band together! We can even call it, NEON LEON and his most wonderful, most beautiful/handsome, most talented, most smartest, most other things I can't even think of, Partner!" He said, pecking your cheek between each compliment, making your face turn a brighter red.

"Stoppp, Leoooo," you whined, trying to hide yourself against his shoulder.

"Nope! The compliment train has just begun, and there is no stop!" He continued to go through the night, complementing your guitar skills, flirting and teasing until your would get as red as you could. Pecking your cheeks, rubbing his face against you (red eared sliders do that to show affection) and wrapping his arms around your waist and spinning your around till you both got dizzy.

Maybe you should play infront of him more often!

[carolmunson]

vacation diaries - entry five

eddie keeps a journal while at the inn with you in northern indiana. a blurb series starting from the first morning after ’before there was a before’.

entries: one,two,three,four read steve’s journal: here. 'hear' the phonecall: here. warnings: 18+, minors dni for adult themes, references of abuse

i thought we finally made it somewhere. just when she was starting to do okay, to show a little confidence, he had to take it from her. she was so quiet all day and no matter how many times she told me that this morning she had 'happy tears', i can't help but not believe her. she was so caught up in replaying whatever they talked about in her head on a loop. i could see it in her eyes. disecting it like a frog in science class, like there were hidden meanings she couldn't figure out.

when i asked why she was crying she said it was because he wasn't mad at her. and she just doesn't understand why this kind of shit isn't okay.

and i know he didn't do it on purpose. like, of course he didn't. he didn't think she was gonna answer the phone. but god damn. i had to do all those deep breathing exercises they taught me at anger management back in '87.

i called him back because i'm not an asshole and he's still my best friend. he got fired and i'm not surprised, but now he wants to work for a friend of his dads and i don't think that's a good idea for him at all. bill makes him insane, so why take a job that puts you directly on the bill pipeline? he doesn't even like law. he hated getting his paralegal certs. he's better at finance, he should just start looking for jobs there. there's more money there anyway and he'd be good at it. he'd have something to work towards. he said he'll ask bill about it, how he wants to try and fix their relationship.

i feel like bill is the last person he needs to mend his relationship with. god forbid he ends up more like him.

he apologized for talking to her and i know he means it but i'm so afraid that this is temporary for him like it was last time. he'll be sweet enough to get her to stay and then she won't know to leave until she's chest deep. i can only keep saving her for so long until i need someone to come save me too.

i don't know how long i can keep doing this. even though i know i love her. i love him, too. but where do i fit in outside of being her savior? the safety net? they both look at me to fix whatever is going on between the two of them. who's taking care of me? i'm so tired.

it snowed so much today that we just hung out here and played old board games with the old folks.

she kept giving me kisses.

but she stopped holding my hand.

-ed

[princessmisery666]

Vacation Plans - Part 3 - No One's In The Room Mini Series

Series Summary: Jake and Ryleigh find themselves stranded in a remote location when a mission goes sideways. Injured and dependent on his help, she gets a glimpse of the man beneath the façade of ‘The Terminator’. Once they are rescued, the bubble of their personal Vegas bursts, and Jake struggles with new emotions while Ryleigh hopes he will finally see the man she came to know when no one else is in the room.

Summary: Ryleigh is surprised at how easily Jake fits into a domestic setting. Jake enjoys their newfound friendship. 

Warnings: fluff.

W/C: 3.4k

Characters: Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin, Ryleigh ‘Rodeo’.

Pairing: fwb - Ryleigh x Fanboy mentioned

Betas: @deanwinchesterswitch

Graphics: made by me on canva.

Catch up here

Vacation Plans

Jake awoke after hearing a crash from the kitchen. He jumped from the bed, feet landing on the cold floor, only then noticing Ryleigh was absent. He rushed to the source of the noise to find her sans pants again, crouching at a very odd angle with her injured leg stretched out to her side, attempting to pick up a gooey mess from the floor.

“What’s going on in here?” he asked.

She paused in her cleaning and looked up at him, “Would you believe me if I said a raccoon got in?” 

He laughed, walking closer and taking in the mess. Water leaked from a jug, hitting the floor and mixing with a powder he assumed was pancake mix; chocolate chips spilled from the packet, and possibly every utensil available was lying on the countertop. “It looks like it has.” 

Jake held his hand out, and she willingly accepted, allowing him to pull her to her feet. “You made dinner, so I wanted to make you breakfast. But my leg hurts more than I thought it would; I bumped it on a drawer handle and made a mess.”

“Ryleigh,” he scolded, “is it bleeding?” he lifted the hem of the shirt and bent to check. Luckily, her disaster of a breakfast attempt hadn’t opened the stitches. “Sit down. I got this.”

“Have you taken more pills?” he asked once she’d taken a seat at the table, sighing in noticeable relief at taking the weight off her leg. 

“Yes, Doctor Seresin,” she snarked with a playful smile.

His mind flashed to her clad in a tight-fitting PVC nurse outfit, but before the image could embarrass him, he winked, drawling, “Good girl.”

She appeared to bite the inside of her cheek and shifted in her seat, pressing her thighs together, causing him to smirk. Perhaps he’d learned another new thing about her from the small gesture.

A blush crept across her cheeks, but she snapped her fingers. “Back in the room, Jake.” 

“Okay,” he said, checking the ingredients she’d already mixed together, “what was the plan here?”

“Pancakes?” she said, but it sounded like a question. 

“I can make pancakes.”

He set about finishing what she’d started, clearing up the mess on the floor, checking what was salvageable, and felt his eyes drifting to the windows, checking the status of the blizzard and then the clock above the front door.

“Got somewhere you need to be?” she asked when he’d repeated the clock checking a third time.

“Kind of,” he shrugged, whisking the batter, holding the bowl in the crook of his arm. “Well, I needed to make a call.” 

“Who’s the unlucky lady?” she quipped, but the undertone was friendly banter.

“My niece,” Jake explained, “it’s her birthday. I promised to FaceTime her. But we’re not getting picked up today,” he pointed out at the blizzard, “so I guess I’ll have to break a promise.”  

“Where’s your phone?” she asked

“Over there,” he gestured toward the small table beside the door. “But we have no cell service here.” 

“I know,” she said, limping to retrieve his phone. “Passcode.”

“Seven, zero, six, one.” he replied, “what are you doing?”

“Wow, that’s way too cute.” her bottom lip jutted out, flipping his phone to show she was referring to his wallpaper. An image of him with his niece on his back, both smiling broadly.

“We already know you think I’m pretty, but now I’m cute, too?” he joked, “just tell me you want me already, Rodeo, no shame or judgment,” he smirked, “this is a safe place, it’s Vegas remember.” 

She laughed, nodding along with him, “Are you done?” and waved him over, “come here.”

“Are you going to serenade me about how I’m the love of your life and that your universe would have no light if I weren’t in it?”

“No.”

“Then no,” he shrugged, turning back to prepare breakfast. 

“Jake,” she whined so needily it made him slowly turn to face her. She pouted, then snapped her fingers before pointing at him and then at the floor.  

“I have to admit, Ryleigh,” he said, answering her request and walking to stand in front of her. “I like how my name sounds on your lips.”

“Well, Jake,” she smiled, “I have to admit, I kinda like this new friendship of ours. Now, stand by the window and look pretty,” she said, manhandling him into the position she wanted. “I’m gonna record you leaving a message for…”

“Maddie,” Jake supplied. 

“When we get back, you can show Maddie you were thinking about her, even though you couldn’t call,” Ryleigh shrugged, “and maybe if the snow slows down, we could build her a snow cake or something.”

Flirting, banter, and new friendship aside, he was grateful and wondered why he hadn’t thought of doing it himself.

“One, two, three.”

“Hey, Maddie Baby! Happy Birthday, Munchkin! I wish I could be there with you, but,” he pointed toward the window, and Ryleigh panned the camera to capture the snowfall. “I think Santa’s Elves forgot to turn the snow machine off, and I’m stuck.” She focused the camera back on him, and he hesitated to continue. He would be revealing a lot with what he wanted to say, but he remembered Vegas and Friendship. “As soon as I’m back, we’re having a Princess Pajama party, with smores and milkshakes. Can't wait to smother you with hugs and kisses! I love you loads. I miss you loads.” He blew a kiss to the camera, and Ryleigh pushed the button to stop.

“Can I get an invite to this party?” she asked, smiling at him. “It sounds awesome.”

“Anytime, Rodeo, anytime,” he said, returning to prepare breakfast.

“You finish breakfast,” she said, “I'll get in touch with command and ask them to call your family. If they’re expecting your call, they’ll worry if they don’t hear from you.”

“You can’t be serious,” Jake scoffed, looking out the window he was leaning against. “You’d come somewhere like this on vacation?” 

Ryleigh nodded from her position opposite him, taking a sip of her lava-hot coffee, to which Jake had added a splash of vanilla. She’d never pictured him as the domestic type, but he slipped into the part perfectly. Just another thing he was frustratingly good at.

“That,” he pointed out to the sea of white. “Is your idea of a vacation?”

“Absolutely,” she said. 

“You’re killing me, darlin’,” he groaned, motioning up and down her body, “You’d cover up all of that in a snowsuit.” 

“Who said anything about a snowsuit?” she laughed. “Think about it, in an isolated cabin you can be as loud as you want. No cell service, so no interruptions.”

“Okay,” he smiled, catching on, “I’m starting to see the appeal.”

She continued as if he hadn’t spoken, “It’s cold, so you’d need to share body heat to stay warm. TV doesn’t work, not much else to do for entertainment, except…” 

“Just say the word, Rodeo; I’ll keep you warm all night long.”

That southern drawl always took precedence when he was flirting, and she had to admit she liked it when it was aimed at her. “Oh, I have no doubt that you could,” she replied, “no one is as cocky as you without being able to back it up, but like I’ve said... Never. Gonna. Happen.” 

“Why not?” he asked, brow creased with confusion, “This is Vegas remember? What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.”

“Do I really need to spell it out to you?” 

“Yes.” 

“Okay, one, we work together.”

Jake shrugged, taking a step closer. “Sex would just level up our relationship.” 

“Relationship? We kinda hate each other.” 

“Hate fucking is therapeutic,” he said, crowding her personal space, taking her coffee mug, and setting it on the window sill.

“I’m injured,” she reminded him, tilting her head to look at him. 

His eyes followed the path his fingers mapped up the side of her good leg, and he felt the goosebumps pepper her skin. “I’ll do all the work,” he whispered, meeting her eyes.

She pressed her hands to lay flat on his chest, and he expected her to push him away, but she didn’t. “I can’t do casual sex.” 

“I hear all your excuses,” he said, dipping his head, “but I haven’t heard a no.” 

His nose brushed hers, and she surprised him by placing a chaste kiss on his lips and then pulling back to look him in the eye, smiling devilishly, “No.”

Jake groaned, “tease,” but his smile was jesting. He kissed her cheek as swiftly as she’d kissed his lips but left his cheek pressed to hers to mumble in her ear, “being stuck here would be a lot easier if you weren’t so hot.”

It wasn’t the first time he’d commented on her appearance, and it probably wouldn’t be the last. She wondered if any woman actually swooned over that kind of thing. She’d always found it a little insulting. She was more than her appearance. Still, to save an argument about shallowness, she laughed as she stepped away. 

“I’m sure you won’t spontaneously combust if you don’t get your dick wet for a couple of days,” Ryleigh said, sitting on the couch. 

She paused for a rebuttal, giving him a moment to think of something. When he didn’t reply but quoted, ‘can’t do casual sex,’ as he sat next to her, she knew he would file the provocative comment away for later use.

She shrugged, “I can do casual sex. I have an arrangement with Mickey.”

She paused for his reaction, and though he felt the blow to his ego - she clearly didn’t have an issue with sleeping with a colleague, so the problem must be him - he managed to keep his expression neutral, but the disbelief was in his tone. “Fanboy?”

“Not sure why you’re so shocked. It’s not exactly a secret, and we’re not shy about it either. We help each other out when the job gets stressful or when we’re drunk,” she laughed lightly, “whenever the mood strikes us, I guess.”

“But?”

“But, I’m over it. Not Mickey; he’s great - absolutely no complaints. I just want more. Y’know?” she asked but answered for him. “No, of course, you don’t. You’re the terminator. I want the intimacy, the trust, the comfort, and the highs and lows of being with someone on more than a purely physical level. I deserve more than being a sex toy for someone. I’m worth more than that,” she explained. Her tone softened as if afraid to continue, but she held his eyes and spoke kindly, “so are you, Jake.”

She wasn’t bantering or trying to get a rise out of him; her words had been sincere, and he could see in her expression she knew he didn’t think himself worthy. He was an excellent trophy for his sexual conquests to brag about to their friends, making them envious that they’d bagged the hottest guy in the bar, but that’s as far as it went. 

“You deserve someone who worries about you if you don’t call,” continued Ryleigh, through his silence, “someone excited to see you, someone to tell your troubles to, celebrate your kills.”

“Three, now,” he interrupted, holding up the count on his fingers.

“Reassure you that Amber,” she sneered around the name, rolling her eyes for good measure, “was a goddamn fool, someone to show you what love should be.”

“You mean love isn’t fucking and fighting?” he asked, eyes bright with mischief.

“It can be, but it can be so much more too. I swear, sex with someone you trust unconditionally is…it’s something else,” she explained. “When there’s no need to hold back - when you know you won’t be shamed or judged, there’s no pressure to impress - the only goal is the need to make each other feel good. Taking your time, exploring each other, pushing each other’s buttons. Bringing someone to the edge and pulling back, teasing, tasting, and then falling apart together, it’s…” she growled, hands shaped like claws as if frustrated that she couldn’t hold the feeling, “it’s incredible.” 

“Speaking from experience?” he questioned softly.

She nodded and felt the grief of the loss wash over her as she dropped her eyes. “Yeah, I had it all for a minute.”

“But?”

“He gave me an ultimatum, him or the Navy.” 

“And seeing as you’re sitting here with me, I can guess what your stubborn ass decided.”

“Yep.” 

“Regret it?”

“Sometimes,” she shrugged, fidgeting with her hands and still not meeting his eyes. “I don’t miss him anymore, just the intimacy of it all.” 

“Having someone to worry about you if you don’t call, someone who’s excited to see you, someone to tell your troubles to,” he recited. 

She smiled cheekily, “wow, you do listen sometimes,” and found the courage in her teasing to look at him.

“Only to hot chicks when I’m trying to get my dick wet.” 

There it is! She thought, but Jake continued before she could comment, “wanna know what I think?” 

“No, but you’re probably going to tell me anyway,” she joked. 

He held her gaze and, with more sincerity than she’d ever heard from him, said, “He’s a goddamn fool.” 

“We should introduce him and Amber,” she suggested, “they deserve each other.”

“You’re never gonna let that go, are you?” he asked with a chuckle. “Amber really pissed you off, huh?”

“Damn right she has,” Ryleigh teased, “she broke my buddy’s heart,” she gently punched his bicep, “there’s no forgiving that.” 

He laughed genuinely but shook his head. “You’re an idiot.”

“That I am, Lieutenant, that I am,” she playfully agreed. “Now, enough of this sappy crap; let’s watch a movie.” 

The television had no reception, but there was a DVD player and some old dust-covered DVDs. They settled in to watch Pulp Fiction after Jake got over the offense that Ryleigh had never seen it. Ten minutes in, she’d less than subtly readjusted her position four times.

“Leg acting up?” Jake asked.

“It’s just aching,” she said, hoisting herself up and unfolding her good leg from beneath her. She stretched both legs straight out, and Jake saw her wince.

Pausing the movie, he shuffled over to the middle cushion of the three-seater sofa, “Come here,” he said, reaching over to grab her legs just below her knees and maneuvering her to lay her legs over him, “good?” 

“Yeah,” she said, fidgeting to pull the plaid shirt down, so it wasn’t ruffled up her back and twisting to rest most of her weight on her good hip, meaning she was turned into Jake.

“Want the blanket?” he asked, pointing to the one draped over the armchair. 

“No, I’m good.” 

“Good, now keep still, woman!”

The movie played out, the snow continued to fall outside, and Ryleigh remained still, legs draped over Jake’s lap. The further the movie progressed, the more Jake relaxed, and Ryleigh’s vacation plans made more sense. The quiet outside, the knowledge that they had nowhere to be, no one would be interrupting them, was a blissful serenity he hadn’t felt, well, ever.

Absent-mindedly, he stroked gentle patterns up, down, and around her calf, her skin as soft beneath his fingertips as he’d imagined it would be. 

A few minutes before the credits began rolling, he felt her relax even further into the cushions and turned to see her head resting on the back of the couch, features slackened by sleep.

She truly was gorgeous, but now he saw something else too. He’d learned more about her in the last twenty-four hours than in the years since he’d known her. She was strong-willed, independent, and fiercely loyal if her reaction to Amber was anything to go by. She didn’t suffer fools - she’d called him out on his shit more than once. She was thoughtful - the video for his niece, understanding - she hadn’t mentioned his arachnophobia. 

Strangely, he was thankful she’d shot down his advances, and they’d never slept together. He knew this newfound friendship and the current situation would look entirely different if they had. He looked forward to seeing where it could lead.

The wind howled outside, and he worried she’d grow cold and wake, so he delicately eased himself off the sofa, lifting her legs and placing them back down gently. He took their used coffee mugs to the sink, and though he knew none of the doors or windows had been opened, he checked they were secured. He quietly went to the bedroom, staring at Ryleigh’s sleeping innocence as he passed. He closed the curtains, pushed the comforter back, and fluffed her pillows before returning to her.

She stirred, softly groaning as he fitted his arms under her knees and shoulders. “Sshh,” Jake whispered, “it’s just me, sleep.” He waited for her to settle, picking her up as gently as possible, careful not to jostle her injury. She wrapped her arms around his neck, nestling into his chest, and her contented sigh made him smile. 

He lay her on the bed, and she helped him ease her legs under the duvet. He brushed some hair from her face and followed his urge to place a featherlight kiss on her temple. “Sweet dreams.”

Her eyes fluttered open, and she groggily asked, “where’re you going? Need you.”

He stifled a groan, he understood she meant his warmth, but the sleep-hazed plea was reminiscent of a dream he’d had about her, one that morphed into a fantasy when he was alone. He swiftly removed his shirt and jeans and climbed in beside her.

Part 4 - Melted With The Snow

Series tag list open - send me an ASK / comment or reblog.

Tag List Info can be found here

Master Lists: Top Gun Maverick // All The Fandoms

[rina-writes]

Little Things

A/N and Summary: A collection of blurb ideas that I was hoping I would expand on, but just ended up being fun things in my head.  Could also be used as prompts for others writing about Jack. (Do send it to me if you do write it!)  Also, this is the last thing in my drafts so, probably just going to lurk for a bit. Kinda running low on the creative fumes, but excited to read lots.

Warnings: Smutty/suggestive things are under cut, Fem!reader

Appreciation - Jack surprising you every now and then with a cleaning service voucher to use on your shared apartment. He would typically choose a week that’s very tough for you. Maybe you have a lot of long nights at work or you’re having finals week. Either way, Jack can tell you’re having a rough time on your nightly calls and he wants to make things easier for you.  Jack appreciates you holding down the fort for him when he’s on tour, and he would happily clean the place up for you if he were there himself. Since he can’t, he wants to give you the wonderful home experience you provide him when he comes home. He would call up the usual agency and pay in advance. The agency would send you an email to find out when that week would be a good time to come in. He wouldn’t ruin the surprise by telling you in advanced. But, he would be looking forward to your sweet “thank you” call just because he wants to see the smile on your face.

Recognition - Jack would love it if you would attend his interviews like Urban and the other Generation Now peeps. In the same way he gestures to his best friend, he would naturally reference you more if you’re sitting there.  “Yeah my girl always gets on me for that.” “My girl put me on to this, actually.” “My girl over here was the one who really started that...” He would just beam with pride seeing you sitting there in one of his hoodies, hood up and sunglasses on, chuckling with Urban at the inside jokes Jack was dropping in the interview. Seeing you all snuggly on the side would make waking up super early for the interview worth it. The only thing better was your little hug and cheek kiss that you gave him when he was done.  

Insta-Worthy Dates - Jack would really enjoy a private relationship because it makes him feel like you’re just for him. But, he understands that if he’s with someone who is not famous, it can be frustrating to have a mysterious partner. For Valentine’s Day, I can see him going all out for you to post on your finsta/private Instagram. He would rent out a fancy car and have you both dress up to have a romantic picnic on the beach somewhere warm.  Of course, there would be bubbly to celebrate. He would happily pose with his glass for as long as it took for you to capture the picture of you both toasting in front of the ocean -- only showing up to both of your wrists to still keep the mystique.

Best Friends - Jack would love to see you getting close to his friends. But getting close to his brother while on tour? Now, that’s huge because family is so important to him. You getting to know his brother while selling his merch would be  a dream for Jack. However, he would have a bit of FOMO when you two have inside jokes together or when there are fan photos with you two together.  There would be a teeny bit of jealous. If you and Jack’s relationship is private, it would annoy him when people assume you were his brother’s girlfriend. If he sees his brother getting a little too flirty with you, he may say something like “Dude, that’s going to be your sister one day...”  It would give his brother the heebie-jeebies, but you would definitely smile and call Jack on it, “So, you want marry me, huh, Jack?”

18+ - Suggestive/ Smut

NSFW Warnings: Fem!reader, slight exhibitionism, phone sex, body fluids

All of You - If you two are getting freaky in a semi-public place, maybe the bathroom of a club or on the couch in the studio late night with no on else around, he won’t take it if you act shy. If he’s plowing into you, he wants to see all of you. You best believe your clothes are going to be bunched up, pulled down and pushed to the side so he can see every inch of you. And if you try to cover yourself in anyway, he’ll use one hand to pin your wrists above your head. You’d be blushing all over as he stares you down, his hips not even slowing down for a second.

Hooked on You  - Jack not expecting much going into the one night stand with you, but actually losing his mind after you two get it on.  You feel so good around him. The way you look at him makes him feel like there’s a deeper connection too. He’s not sure if it’s just lust or the inklings of love his homies have told him about, but he knows he wants to see more of you.  When you tell him you are heading back to your place after a bit of pillow talk, he is too embarrassed to admit he was disappointed. He didn’t actually mind if you stayed the night. Instead, he offers to pay for your Uber.  The next day, you wake up to the sound of your doorbell.  You answer it to see it’s Jack asking if you want pancakes or waffles. You make your choice, and he walks in with a giant bag of food saying, “Good thing I bought everything.” You eat your full and then have a couple more rounds on the kitchen counter before he asks, “So, what are you doing later?”

Naughty Video Calls - When Jack is on tour, he is a bit needy. Especially being in a relationship, because, when he’s single, he can fill his needs pretty easily in each city he visits.  If you provide him naughty pictures/videos to peruse, he will definitely enjoy them thoroughly. But, there’s nothing that beats a nasty video call. Jack would lead up to it, but you’re going to see the look in his eyes the moment he smiles at you.  His favorite would probably be you taking a bath, just seeing your skin glistening and the bubbles all around you would be heaven. He would reciprocate of course, showing off anything you want to see.

Teasing - (tw: body fluids) Jack really getting into pussy jobs thanks to you. It would be one of the few times he would do it raw, just because he would want to see you covered in his cum. Watching you supporting yourself on your hands and forearms in order to lift your hips up and down to rub your folds against him would set his skin on fire. He’d make sure to angle it nicely to tease your clit as well, so that after his orgasm yours would come quickly with a few strategic rubs from his thumb.

Massages - Jack would love to give you massages.  He would take him time with it. Have you strip down to nothing, lay on the bed and pull out some oils.  The lighting would be low and the music would be sensual.  He’d talk to you about his day and other relaxed topics to put you at ease.  Once you turn on your back, it’s then that the massage starts to feel a bit more like foreplay. He’d play dumb and make it seem like you were the one who had to make it about sex, but it was what he wanted the whole time.

[plush-rabbit]

The Dateable's Making You Flustered

Request: Flustered scenarios with the dateables

A/N: Sorry for the bit of delay!! I really need to work faster with these (1k each)

-

Barbatos:

It’s been such a long time ever since the butler has felt some sort of attraction towards somebody. It surprises even himself and he’s able to see into the future. Yet, when he was given- or rather forced- into a day off, the first place where his mind had wandered had been to you. It was you that he thought of first. He didn’t have a clue on what he wanted to do, but when he was told that he had the day off- no exceptions- his mind had automatically gone to spending time with you. Barbatos wonders what changed that made you so important to him- he wonders when it happened, how it snuck past him and caught him by surprise.

He invited you on his day off, had sent you a quick message asking you’d like to accompany him around Devildom to pick up a few things for himself rather than the usual outing to the market. You had graciously agreed and now he stands beside you, his hand on a book and you peering to see what’s written on it.

“What’s the book about?” You ask, haven given up on trying to figure out what it was that had gotten his attention.

A few demons reach around and pull a book away from the shelf, talking excitedly to one another and he moves to stand closer to you. He smiles at you and holds the book close to him, already deciding to purchase it. “It’s an old tale from Devildom, similar to your Hansel and Gretal but this one is a bit more heavy.” You give out a hum, pleased at his answer and nod your head. “If you’d like, I could lend it to you once I’m done.”

“Oh!” You gasp, grabbing at the same book and holding towards you. “I’ll just take one with me,” you offer and he can’t help but feel a little disappointed that you didn’t want to take his. “This way, we can read at the same time and then discuss. If it’s supposed to be similar to Hansel and Gretal, I’m sure that I’ll enjoy it. Plus-” you look up at him, your smile kittenish the book pulled to your chest- “it can be like our secret book club. I’ve been needing an excuse to go to the castle and visit, so this will be perfect,” you say excitedly, see-sawing between the tips of your shoes and back to your soles.

“You don’t need an excuse to visit the castle.” He hooks his arm with yours, slowly pushing you away from where a growing crowd of demons appear. “You know you’re always welcomed. The Young Lord would never dare to shut the door in your face.” He stops near the corner end of the store, his eyes attracted to a few trinkets where he reaches for.

The book is lowered and you shift your stare to where you both once stood. “And you?” His attention is grabbed immediately and he looks at you with a confused stare. You meet his eyes for a moment before you pull away. “Would you mind if I came over?” You clear your throat and look down, your bottom lip pinched between your teeth. “I wouldn’t want to…” you trail off, clearly unable to find the proper words. “I wouldn't want to distract you or make your work any more difficult than it already is.”

He can feel the back of his neck grow hot. He can’t be mistaken by what your words mean. You want to know what he thinks of you, if you’re welcomed in his eyes. His shoulders lower and he smiles at you, his hand reaching out to take your book from your hands. When you look up at him, he has his gaze kept on the title of the book, following the rise and fall of each letters.

“You’re always welcomed.” He takes in a small breath and fixes his gaze back to you. “You could never be a distraction for me. If you wish to have a secret book club with me, then I am more than honored to be your guest.” He clears his throat and looks away from you, his smile slowly growing but wavering as he lets out a shaky breath. “You make work easier. I enjoy my job, but I must say that when you’re around, the only thing I can think of is finishing in order to spend more time with you. Being around you is… nice.” He returns his stare back to you. “I’ve been around for a very long time, but when you’re around me, well, I don’t think I’ve ever felt so young. I’m not sure what it is about you-” he raises a hand and holds your cheek- “but I find myself happy whenever I’m with you. So please, never think that you are a bother towards me. You’re always free to visit- whether it be for our secret book club-” he returns the book to you, smiling when your fingertips brush against his- “or just because, I’ll always make time for you.”

It might be cruel of him, but he can’t help but smile and let out a quiet chuckle when you press your face against the book. “Barbatos,” you say in a hushed whisper. He only hums in response, glad that his words had such an effect on you. You look up at him with a faux pout and furrow of your brows while he stands there with a wide grin. Your eyes turn away from him and you finally let a smile appear. “Thanks for the reassurance,” you mutter.

“Of course. Nothing that I said was a lie, so it was quite easy to let the words out, you know,” he teases, grabbing the book from you before you have another chance to hide yourself. “Now, is there anything else you’d like to see in the store, or do you wish to go somewhere else?”

“I uh-” still flustered, you rub your cheek where his hand once was- “can we check out the manga section?”

He hooks his arm through yours, his body close enough to where he can smell the sweet scent of your perfume. “Lead the way,” he says, following your footsteps through the store. He isn’t sure when his feelings towards you had changed, he doesn’t even recall the giddiness of when it all started, but he doesn’t mind it. It’s a nice change of pace. You’re something unpredictable and reckless, and something soft and fragile, and he welcomes having you so close to him, to where he could lean over and press his lips against the crown of your head and keep you protected under his touch. Barbatos welcomes the change that you brought and while the change wasn’t originally for him, he enjoys that it is for him now, that you’re the one that gets to be close to him and that gets to have the pleasure of having you wanting to visit him.

Simeon:

Who could have ever thought that he, an angel, would fall in love with a human? The very thing that an angel had created a war for, the very thing that caused him to lose those close to him, and the very thing that had shown just how different he was from someone he had considered a brother, he now commits the same unholy act. He must be a hypocrite. He is a hypocrite. The very thing he turned a blind eye to and here he is, so undoubtedly in love with a human that he fears his wings will be ripped from him, his blood staining his clothes and his halo broken beyond repair. Terror makes his blood run cold and yet, he cannot look away from you. Simeon keeps his gaze upon you with a mixture of hesitation and melancholy and you just smile back at him, the phone in your hand shared between the two of you as you watch a parody of a teen romance on an application.

“It’s amazing how much people have grown to like this er, show?” He asks, still unsure of what to call it. “It’s considered a show, right?”

Your shoulders raise in a shrug and you give him a small, tight lipped smile. “I guess. I think most people refer to it as a series.” The phone is lowered and it returns to your lap. “It isn’t wrong to call it a show, but since they’re short little bursts of episodes, I think people find it easier to call it a series, but it can go any way.” You move away from him, scooting until your thigh is at an angle and your knee is pushed against his. “Anyways, to answer your question, yes people do like it. I think since it’s like a parody but also suspenseful with the cliffhangers, it keeps people entertained.” He nods his head slowly, and he tries to ignore the rush of cold that is now at his empty side. “Did you like it?”

His eyes slightly widen, and his lips pull into a thin smile. “I- Well, considering the fact that it’s written and done by one person- I- It certainly is different than the things I usually consume, but-” He struggles to find a way to finish his thought without offending you in any sort of way and ends with a stiff nod of his head.

It’s a tense moment that doesn’t last long enough to linger on when you suddenly laugh. Your laugh is loud as it effectively gets him to snap his mouth shut. Your hands are waved in front of you and your knee leaves his as you curl onto the couch. “You don’t have to force yourself to like it, Simeon, I only wanted to show it to you, because you asked what I was watching.”

He appreciates you giving him an easy out, and he releases a breath he hadn’t known he had been holding. It’s a slow release and suddenly he can breathe again. “Well thank you for sharing it with me. I appreciate that from you.” Silence lingers and it isn’t like before where it’s tense, it’s lighter now, but it still feeds him an odd sense of air where he’s stuck between a breath, his eyes stuck on you.

Once more, your laughter fills the room and it’s short and sweet, a gift given to him for just the moment. “Of course, Simeon. I like spending time with you, and I especially like sharing my interests so I guess, thank you for allowing me to do that.” Your hand reaches towards his and he sees the slightest pause from you, the way your fingers twitch until you allow yourself to hold his hand and give it a gentle squeeze.

Warmth returns to him, something akin to a summer’s day in the Celestial Realm, and even though all air has left him once again, he is breathless in a way that matters, weightless and joy illuminating him. When he meets your eyes, he cannot look away and he cannot help but return your smile. The clock ticks onwards and he’s left with a heavy heart. He’s read about the perfect moment, thought about writing something so trivial and false, and yet, the perfect moment sits before him with their hand in his.

“I have to be honest with you,” he murmurs and his eyes feel hot, a lump forms in his throat that makes his words sound tighter. “I- I don’t-” How could he ever phrase what he wants to tell you? How could he drop that sort of confession on you? You know the story, would you ever want him to actually confess to you, to repeat the past mistakes and know the horrid outcome? He frowns. His eyes are stuck on the floor, running along the edge of the carpet and he can feel your gaze on him, your eyes that are heavy with concern and ever the angel, Simeon spares you and gives you the easier answer. “I’m thankful to have met you,” your name is a sweet whisper on his lips, a taste of sweet peach that makes his heart full and heavy. “I don’t think I’ve ever met someone as wonderful as you. I see you and I think that I’ve found something even more pure than an angel.” With every word, his hand turns to slip into yours, his gloves thin enough to feel the small crevices and calluses on your hand. “Even if you are human and you’ve committed sin, I still think that you are the most pure of them all with your kindness and generosity.”

He isn’t sure what he had expected, but he hadn’t expected to have you plant your face against the soft back cushion of the couch, your face held there for moments. Your hand slips away from his and he’s left holding empty air. His hands fret over your body and when you pull away, your face is flushed, your hands covering the lower part of your face as you look at anywhere but him.

“Simeon,” you whine, closing your eyes tightly. “That’s really sweet.” Your voice is high-pitched and your eyes open once more, as your hands finally lower. “I think I might actually die, that was really nice and something that I don’t hear often.” You finally look at him and your smile is ever growing. “Especially from an angel,” you say with a half-hearted chuckle.

His smile is soft and to him, it dulls compared to your brilliance. As if you were a puzzle, he fits into your hand with ease and grace. “Well if you were to die, I would return you in any way that I could.

Solomon:

He’s human, ageless and immortal, but human. He’s lived and loved, lost and grieved, and he’s gone numb and distant to emotions. He didn’t mind it, he welcomed it. He hated losing and hated the people that he lost and the empty space that they left. He promised that he wouldn’t ever want to feel that sense of sadness ever again. Then you came into the picture. He’s been called shady and worse words than that, but you don’t call him that. You hold his hand and you welcome him into your arms. You go on and on about the human in him and how you love that he’s there with you. Solomon isn’t sure when it was that he broke his own promise, but when he looks at you, he’s willing to love again and again.

The kitchen is a mess and powder covers the counters. His hands knead the dough and the smell of garlic and onion sizzled with oil is heaven in the air. You measure the ingredients and whisk at the eggs. It’s domestic and it’s something that leaves a storm of butterflies in his stomach. He could watch you forever, in the kitchen, with an apron tied around your waist, flour in your hands and the tip of your tongue peaking past your lips as you concentrate on rereading the cookbook. It’s domestic and it’s something he had long forgotten that he wanted.

“I have the ingredients memorized, I could simply tell you what to add,” he muses, returning to forming the bread into its shape.

“Knowing you, you’ll add something in there,” you quip, your smile now directed at him, with your tongue still pinched out. “Plus, it’s just reading. I can read,” you say with a defensive tone. “Just start dressing the bread with garlic and then we can get on with breading the chicken.” You jerk your head to where the chicken rests on the cutting board, the flour beside it.

“Okay,” he sings under his breath, returning his attention to the dough before him. The room is filled with a song from the Human Realm, a classic that has him feeling warmth in a kitchen that is not his, but with a person that is. It makes him long for another time, but when he catches you in the corner of his eye, he’s glad where he is. “I like your song choice,” he says, instantly biting the inside of his cheek once the words had left his mouth. It’s been so long since he’s ever tried to have an actual connection with someone, and he’s sure he wasn’t ever this awful at it.

“Yeah?” You step close to him, holding your hand out. “Care for a dance then?” Your smile is crooked and eyes gleaming with excitement as the song is replayed with a touch of your hand.

He’s frozen for a second, stuck in time, and rooted into place, his hand moving through thick amber as he lets his hand rest in your palm. The room is spun, colors mixing with each other and slowly blurring until he stands still, pushing you away and pulling you close, laughing and letting his hand rest against your side, his hand feeling the soft curve against your ribs. Your hands are powdered and his smell like bread, and your laugh is young and youthful. He can’t help but follow, letting his smile break out and hand slipping out of yours, to encase you in a hug where he traps you into a swaying motion.

The song fades and he’s forced to pull away, to step away from you and there’s hesitation is his steps and movements. His hands linger for a second too long, his eyes still stuck on you and his smile much softer than it was before. It’s a few seconds of silence where you take in deep, heavy breaths, and sway lightly to the song that approaches.

Your name is said and it’s sweet like honeysuckle and addicting like a drug. It’s a night where he invited you over, and now you two are busy making dinner in the kitchen and you’ve given him instructions and kept a close eye on what he does. Your perk your head and nod, allowing for him to continue. “Thank you for coming over,” he says with a tight smile on his lips.

“Anytime, Sol,” you respond, coming beside him once more. You bump your arm into his, leaning to look at the garlic mixture in a bowl. “You know I like spending time with you, so anytime you need a cooking partner, you can always call.”

He doesn’t say anything, only nodding and trying to keep the butterflies in his stomach at bay while his heart beats frantically against his chest. You move away from him, returning to where the powder rests in a bowl and he’s left without, and while the distance is short, it’s something that is unwelcomed. He’s left with dough in his hands and you’re away from him, and loneliness settles.

“Can I call you whenever?” He asks, an easy smile on his lips, but there’s a plea in his words. He’s never been the needy type, but he needs you.

“Of course, you can,” you respond and you’re as kind as ever. You turn away and close the bag of flour, pushing it aside to clear the space at the table.

Like a drug that leaves his mouth dry and heart racing, feeling as if he’s about to die, he calls your name. You’re so close to him and yet, you aren’t close enough. He needs you. He needs you beside him. And he takes the first step, standing in front of you with a red kissed face as stares at the cabinets against the wall. You call his name and your hand is tender against his neck, leaving a white stain that snows onto his shirt.

“I just wanted to thank you. I know how busy you can get and I just-” he can feel the telltale sign of tears and he wonders when he’s gotten so emotional- “I like spending time with you. I like your music choices and I like it when you cook with me- even if it’s just you giving me instructions- but I like it.” His tongue touches against his lips and he looks at you, fiddling with the end of his shirt. “I think you’re great and I just need you to know that if you ever need anything, I’ll be more than happy to help. I would do whatever it would take to make you happy because you have a really nice smile and I don’t think you should lose that.” His heart echoes and his smile is gentle and nervous. “Thank you for being with me.”

You stare at him and he wonders if he had overstepped only to gasp when you bury yourself against his chest, patting at his shoulder and pulling away with a hand covering the lower half of your face. “Solomon,” his name leaving your lips sends a jolt of electricity through him, “I’m glad. Thank you,” you whisper. Your hand reaches to pull his away from his shirt and you hold it in yours. “I like being with you too. Us humans have to stick together, right?” You say softly, letting your fingers run over his scarred knuckles.

He nods silently and leans over, his lips pressed against your forehead. “Yeah, us humans have to stick together,” he whispers against you, smiling when he feels your own lips against his knuckles. He’s with you, at this very moment, he stands in a kitchen with music playing, holding you close to him, and for a moment, he can pretend that this won’t ever end, that he won’t ever have to move away from you and risk losing you.

[idealisticrealism]

TCL 2x11 recap

Ok so in honour of the S3 renewal (!!!! shut up I’m not crying YOU’RE crying aaaaaaahhhh!!!) here are a few very very belated TCL thoughts… and of course, many many many more thoughts still to come for 2x12 lol 

So I am already immediately needing to know how much time has passed between last ep and this one lol. Maybe a few days? I mean Luca is looking so much better, and he’s so excited to see Fi and his cousins. (Lol at the fact Marco doesn't even get mentioned, even though he only died like 2 months ago. Like yaasss everybody, Marco who???). Also I really like the way Thony asks “JD let you come?”, bc it’s not judgmental or snarky, it’s more acknowledging the difficult position Fi is in and her gratitude that she came. Also oooh we are definitely back in Vegas for the filming now– this is filmed at Adventuredome in LV. But ugh Thony going from smiling at Luca’s excitement to spotting Joseph :( poor woman just can’t even get 5 minutes of simple happiness before something drags her back down again. (Also I assume she still has her big bald shadow following her around and so that’s how Joseph knew where to find her?) 

Oooh Nadia definitely still has her shadow. And damn she’s in the fanciest of prisons rn, stuck in RK’s penthouse. Since this phone conversation is apparently the first time she and Arman have talked since she poisoned RK, and Arman isn’t looking completely panicked about where she's been, then I’m guessing not too much time could have passed since then– maybe it really has only been a few days? Also I really wanna know how much Arman was able to find out about what happened to RK? Like did he finally hurry into Fast Lane after his little excursion with Garrett, frantically looking around  to see if Nadia might still be there, only to find all the staff gossiping about how the boss was taken to hospital and how Ms Morales went with him??? And then he tries to call her but can’t get through– so what did he do??  Did he text her and risk it being seen by RK, or did he just go home and sit there waiting by his phone? Also ugh I wish we got to see his reaction to her saying that Thony saved RK, bc yasss to that drama lol.  And ugh yes to Nadia referring to Thony as ‘your cleaning lady’ again.  Idc that Nadia means it in a negative way, it’s still implying a connection between Armony and that’s what I’m all about lol. Anyway I did like that Arman was immediately down to rescue Nadia though. Oh my sweet brave yet somewhat stupid boy lol. Also goddammit I really gotta learn spanish bc while I very much respect them not using subtitles a lot of the time, I still always wanna know everything that's being said lol

Haha RK is Big Mad about his heart attack. “I had a full physical just a few months ago, there was nothing that indicated any issue with my heart” ok well I mean a ‘physical’ is a pretty basic check, so unless the doctor randomly decided to arrange an angiogram (a surgical procedure which is not done on people who don’t have symptoms), then there’s no way they could have definitively known the heart was fine… so maybe calm down a bit there buddy? Also again, we saw last ep that you’re on blood thinners, so there is definitely something wrong somewhere.  But lol the hot doctor guy saying “high potassium can cause hyperkalaemia” is so funny because hyperkalaemia is literally just the technical term for high potassium. But props to him for telling RK it could have been caused by stress lol– you’re a brave and potentially foolish man, Doc. Also loooolllll RK pouting in the bed like a petulant child and Nadia basically telling him to grow up. Poor woman is already a prisoner and now she has to deal with this giant baby too?? Now this is real torture

Oh the penthouse is at Caesar’s Palace?? Daaaamn, that’s gotta be pricey. (Also sigh,  looks like I’m gonna need to make another trip to Vegas this year to see these new locations haha). But oooohh at the meaningful eye contact between Nadia and Thony as Nadia hands her the medical file. Also he asks Thony her opinion within literally like 10 seconds of her opening the file– like give her a minute to actually read it before she gives her answer, maybe?? But oh man the tightrope she walks when she says that it could have been a drug interaction, but then follows it by saying there’s nothing in the report that indicates that that’s the case. And then ugh she immediately tries yet again to talk him into letting her and Arman handle the medication shipment. And when he tells her that the shipment has gone missing and his men are currently investigating to find out who is to blame? There’s no question for her that it was Arman, and ugh she’s trying so hard to keep her face neutral and not let the dread and anger and fear show. Because by stealing that shipment, Arman has put two of the people she loves most at risk: Luca, and himself. And even worse, she knows that in a way it’s her fault, because he did it for her. this is true love right here bitches

But ugh Nadia and Thony walking out together, and Thony’s grim expression, clearly hating that she had to tell the truth about the drug interaction because it was all a test– one that she needed to pass for the safety of her whole family– versus the fear in Nadia’s eyes and the cuttting edge to her voice as she tells Thony to tell Arman that she sold them both out?? And then the total tone change as she graciously thanks her for coming? Damn the relationship between these two is so engrossing, especially because as much as they are at odds, they do often have a lot of empathy towards one another and help each other out even when you might not expect them to. S3 please give me all the Thony and Nadia team ups please

Ooooh Garrett that was actually pretty smooth? Lucky no one was in the toilets though lol. Fair enough for him to be pretty pissed with her– she lied to him about Maya, and now she is being driven around by RK’s guys? It doesn’t look great. And aaaahh I have been waiting for this confrontation scene since the moment Maya died,  and tbh Oliver is doing a great job with expressing the hurt and anger and betrayal. And man the way Thony’s voice is so small as she tells him she’s sorry? And his “Or have you gotten so good at lying and covering up the truth that you don’t even recognise it?” like oooohhhh what a blow, and what an insightful statement. Honestly Thony needs someone to call her out like this, to make her see the path she is headed down and the ways that she has already changed. Not that I don’t want her to continue on this path haha, because getting to watch Mob Boss Thony is definitely the absolute dream (heck yeah bring on S3), but I want her to be a badass boss without losing her humanity. But tbh I love the fact that the moment she gets the call that Luca is at the hospital, it’s like the fight is immediately put on hold because it’s just understood that Luca comes before anything else.

Seriously though, Fi took him to a public hospital???? The woman who tried to stop Thony from doing the same thing in 1x02 because she was so scared she’d be deported??? Like if there was no other option, sure, but Fi literally has Dr Saroyan’s number (Thony gave it to her when she went to The Philippines) and she knows that Luca has been taken to Dr Saroyan’s clinic before? Why would she not try that first????????? Like ok tbh I would have been fine with it if there was even just a quick little throwaway line like “I tried calling Dr Saroyan but his receptionist said he’s away in Boston for a week” so it covered that plot hole. But whatevs, we need the drama I guess lol. But ugh honestly Jazz makes such a good suggestion about calling JD to take Luca inside instead– like even if he will take a little bit to get there, he could switch out with Fi so she’s not at any more risk than she needs to be? Ugh this is so dumb I don't need this stress in my life

“My nephew has a high fever and he started throwing up about an hour ago”  wait are you kidding me????  that’s all you’re going to say, Fi??? That makes it sound like simple gastroenteritis. You gotta lead with the fact that this is an immunocompromised child like 2 months post liver transplant?? Oh my god. Tbh I hate this scene for multiple reasons, partly because of the above, but also partly because of how uncomfortable it feels with the guards staring at her (though that's obviously the point), and also because it’s just a reminder of how terrible the US healthcare system is (which lbr is probably also the point). But ugh even this really lovely Filipina nurse is making me afraid that it’s all actually a trap and ICE is already on their way ughhhh I hate this

“I’m not hungry!” yep RK is definitely a child lol. But oh shit the backstory about his dad dying from a heart attack at 45 and then RK taking every possible precaution to avoid the same– like hell okay maybe he actually did get himself an angiogram and all the other fancy cardiac testing?? lol. In which case Nadia is really in trouble haha. When he had Joseph pour her the champagne (the same one she poisoned him with, naturally) I was so terrified for her ugh. Ngl I was unhappy about her throwing suspicion onto Thony about the shipment, but I mean it was pretty understandable— especially bc she felt that Thony had betrayed her first, and also tbh there was no other possible scapegoat for it except for herself or Arman. But ugh her shiny eyes as RK walks away, knowing that she is walking such a knife’s edge with him and that he might snap at any moment? Ugh my girl. Plus honestly I’d definitely like to think that she also felt at least a little bad about the fact that she may have just gotten Thony killed–  if circumstances were different, I honestly think these women could actually have been something almost like friends ugh

Ugh okay now Thony has arrived at the ER and finally someone is being made aware of Luca’s history and the urgency of the situation!!  Also damn she’s impressively persuasive given she manages to get that lady to call a code… this is making me want to fish out my old hospital ID to see whether we had a code white lol. It definitely didn't mean ‘medical emergency’ though, because naturally that one I did know, having responded to them often enough lol

Also lol I just noticed that there’s a pamphlet saying ‘stem cell therapy saves lives’ on it at the desk, and it has the initials/logo of the Institute of Stem Cell Medicine (the place where she took Luca in early S1) on it!! Like it’s probable that they were just recycling medical props from last season but I love this little easter egg omg

Ugghhhh I am still so uncomfortable about these guys being at this hospital at all. Like I get that it’s for plot reasons, creating the whole ‘what if we get noticed and deported’ tension, but it’s just so frustrating that everyone has forgotten about Dr Saroyan!! Like c'mon guys. Plus I just miss him lol, he was so softspoken and pretty. Though tbh this Dr Gonzalez is quite pretty too. In fact, pretty much every doctor that has appeared in this show has been rather attractive– seriously where were all these beautiful people during my training??? at acting school obviously lol

OOOH. Thony just said that Luca is 10 weeks post-transplant! Excellent, I’ve been meaning to put together a timeline of the TCL events, considering that the entire show literally happens over the course of like 4 months. So Luca was a week postop when he and Thony came back from Mexico (1x09) and then Marco kidnapped him like another week later (end of 1x10/start of 2x01), so looks like S2 has happened over the course of about 8 weeks. Which tbh actually seems a little long to be accurate, given that several of the eps happen literally the day after the previous ep’s events, but it could potentially work. Guess I’ll find out when I actually put the timeline together lol

Anyway is it weird that I felt proud when Dr Gonzalez said that (from the scans, I assume) Luca’s graft looks extremely clean and that a surgical complication definitely wasn’t the cause for his current condition? Like ugh damn straight my girl Thony did an incredible job on the surgery. And what a relief it must be for her to hear that she didn’t cause this, because you know that's been her greatest fear ever since she realised she was going to have to do the surgery in the first place

Stepping into the chapel to call her married(ish?) criminal boyfriend? I love it. Blaspheme away, girl, I support you wholeheartedly. I also love that she knows he was the one who took the shipment, knows he did this for her, to prove to her he meant it when he said he wouldn’t let his plan to kill Kamdar endanger Luca. But of course now that plan (along with Thony’s thwarting of it) has endangered all of them lol. Oops. Also dude I had been wondering why this ep hadn’t quite been doing it for me thus far (like of course I’m enjoying it, but just not as much as other eps) and I mean part of it is definitely the focus on Robert and also the borderline insanity of bringing Luca to this hospital, but mostly it’s because I’ve been like EXCUSE ME. WHERE IS MY BOY. WHERE IS MY PRECIOUS MURDER CUPCAKE. WHERE. Like seriously up until this point we have gotten a total of like 20 seconds of Arman onscreen and that is simply not enough for me to survive on lol. But ugh finally we are getting some good fucking food, as Gordon Ramsay would say, bc fuck yes to this entire phone exchange– Arman clearly angry and upset that she didn’t trust him enough to follow his plan (you just know he’s thinking back to their plan in 1x10 and how she trusted him then, but has since seemingly turned her back on him; dw so much more will be said on that in the next recap lol), then there’s Thony acknowledging that she made a mistake/that her choice endangered them all (aka maybe that she doesn’t always know better than everyone), and then there’s the way that all the fire immediately goes out of Arman the moment he hears how sick Luca has gotten. Ngl even though the ‘my son is dying!’ thing is getting a liiiiittle bit stale (I mean to be fair though, it is realistic for how a parent with a dying/chronically ill child would be), I do love that the two powerful men in Thony’s life will immediately put aside their own frustrations and agendas for Luca. (and, of course, for Thony herself)

“We’ll get those meds, but after that we’re done.” Honestly, I love this line, because you just know it’s not true; literally the emptiest threat my boy has ever made haha. But it’s important for it to be said anyway– considering that Arman has already established to Thony through both words and actions that he will do pretty much anything for her, the act of telling her that they’re done is one of the only ways he can express to her how much she has hurt him without literally saying those exact words aloud. (It’s probably also partly habit from his fights with Nadia, too; I don't doubt they've both threatened each other with divorce multiple times lol, which is extra funny now we know they were never married in the first place).  But anyway lbr here, he’s never going to follow through on this threat with Thony, just like he didn’t in 2x05 after he said it the first time. But the point is that there’s still just enough uncertainty there– the possibility that maybe this time he really does mean it– that it kinda forces Thony to examine her choices and face the idea that unless she trusts him and lets him be her equal partner in this, she might lose him. But ugghhh at him immediately grabbing all the money he has left in the world and coming out of hiding to help her save Luca. Just like she knew he would, before he even answered the phone– because like she told Fi: he always shows up when she needs him. 

Also, catch me screaming over the fact that the man has no reason to have her motorbike helmet with him, but does anyway??? Like last we saw him, he was at La Habana on the phone with Nadia, finding out about Kamdar, and presumably he went right home and got the essentials to take into hiding– which apparently includes Thony’s motorbike helmet. Y’know, just in case she called, needing him. I’m so fine and normal about this I swear

Actually you know what, I'm not fine at all, because we were absolutely robbed of the scene where she manages to sneak out the back of the hospital and he pulls up to get her and just silently holds out the helmet, and then on the ride it really hits her that maybe he will  walk away after all this and that it will be all her fault, and between that terrible feeling of dread and her overwhelming fear for Luca she starts to cry silently, her arms clinging to him tighter than usual because she’s so terrified she’s about to lose two of the people she loves most, and then at one point they’re stopped at a traffic light and he covers one of her hands with his and squeezes, like he can sense that she’s barely keeping herself together, and she cries harder because if she still has him then maybe it will all be okay, maybe they will get the meds and get back to Luca in time and maybe she can stop trying to carry all this weight on her own and–

But anyhow, I digress lol. I love that Arman steps straight into the office and barely spares the guy a glance as he grabs the bolt cutters and the paper with the container number on it. Man is on a mission to save his future stepson lol, and god help anyone who gets in his way. And ugh I just love everything about his and Thony’s teamwork– she finds the container and he comes running with the bolt cutters; he starts cutting the inventory lists free and handing them off to her, letting her guide him to the right spot. They just work so naturally together without needing to discuss it and idk man I am just very into everything they do together lol (and boy i would sure love for them to do some ~other~ stuff together lol)

God the look of terror on her face when they hear the cars screech into the shipping yard, and the way he whispers a reassurance to her and touches her arm for just a second as he passes? And then he peeks around the corner and sees several of Kamdar’s men being pointed their way (damn that little rat bastard for selling them out) and ugh I want to hug him because he knows how bad these odds are, knows that he might be about to die right now but that doesn’t matter, all that matters is keeping them from getting to Thony. Like ughhhhhh “I’ll do what I can to hold them off” and then him locking her inside the container?? He knows she has her phone, knows that even if he dies taking all the men out then she will still be able to call for help, so he takes every measure he can to keep her safe and give her the best chance of survival. I also stupidly love that it’s his knife that she’s using to cut out and search the inventory lists, and his knife that is her only weapon/defense. Just another way he protects her ugh

Though lol at him choking the guy out in like 5 seconds while the guy doesn’t even fight it. Kamdar would be embarrassed to be associated with such a pathetic goon lol. Ngl tho I very much enjoy watching Arman getting beaten up and thrown into objects and still getting up and keeping fighting because this is a fight he simply cannot afford to lose ugh

Okay these writers definitely do not know how to write delirious kids lol, but I forgive them. However I don’t forgive the nurse guy who Fi goes to for help, considering he glances at the monitor for half a second and then says Luca is probably just tired. Like seriously how did this guy get through nursing school? And then lol the next minute Luca has a tiny bit of a nosebleed (not even actively dripping) and Dr Gonzalez gets someone running in with a procedure cart to shove unnecessary packing up his nose. Like hey guys can you maybe try to find a happy medium between under- and overreacting lol??

God Thony dropping the phone and not being able to reach it makes me feel so stressed, and then ugh her being found because Fi keeps calling her??? Reminds me of 1x01 and Fi’s call being the reason she gets found and thrown in front of Arman in the first place. The woman really needs to learn to put her ringer on silent lol. But god how badass that she literally climbs her way out and runs across the top of the container and makes a jump for it? Like damn Arman was right, she really has learned a few things lol. Also fucking love Arman seeing Thony getting cornered by two gunmen and responding by immediately taking out his own guy (by fighting dirty, throwing sand in his eyes and then kicking him in the balls, to which I say hell yeah) before diving for his gun and shooting the guy who was about to shoot Thony. And then taking out the other guy too, before yelling for her to get down and killing the guy who had just appeared out of the container behind her (what that guy was still doing in the container for so long when Thony had already escaped, who knows lol). And ugh when he signals for her to run over to him, she doesn’t hesitate, just knows that he will cover her and make sure she makes it safely, and then they make their escape together on the bike with him shooting the last two guys while racing out of there??? Like honestly this man needs to go straight back to jail because being this sexy is a goddamn CRIME

Ugh, yet again we were robbed of the possible Armony though– like excuse me, where is my scene of her clinging to him again as he races them back to the hospital, then the two of them frantically asking each other if they’re okay/uninjured before he reassures her he’s fine and sends her back in to save Luca, telling her to call him as soon as she has news?? Like seriously where is it, writers??? I need ALL the Armony ugh

Ngl I’m on Dr Gonzalez’s side here lol, bc what Thony is proposing to do is legit crazy– not to mention both illegal and unethical, which would be sOO MUCH LESS OF A PROBLEM IF Y’ALL HAD GONE TO MY BOY DR SAROYAN INSTEAD, BUT NOOOOOOOO. Like again, I know that they had to end up at a proper hospital for the plot, but ugh that doesn’t stop the plot from being annoying lol. Though tbh I do love that they can only achieve their plan of sneakily giving Luca the treatment he needs because of their little network of cleaning ladies haha. Who run the world???? 

Lbr tho this girl is taking a huge risk for them– I appreciate the writers at least giving the explanation that it’s in thanks for Thony delivering Nina’s baby, but still, can we at least try to minimise her involvement so she doesn’t go down with you??? In fact, get Fi the hell out of here too, you don’t need her! Especially since Luca apparently needs to be ventilated for 36 hours for the drug to work, which means it is literally impossible for them to NOT get caught doing this. Aaaaahhhh I am so stressed lol. Aaand yep they’ve been caught by Dr Gonzalez already, who actually kind of seems like he might go along with it– what is it about the Thony & Luca combo that men just can’t say no to lol?? lbr I would not say no either sooo

Like lol Garrett literally admits it to Russo, that he was right in the middle of yelling at Thony and then let her go the moment there was a call about Luca. He really does get too close to his CIs and tbh I love that about him because it’s both a flaw and one of his main redeeming attributes. And ugh when he tells her that he believed Arman when he said that it came down to a choice between Thony or Maya (love the fact that both Russo and Garrett are well aware just how much Thony means to Arman), and that Arman is a criminal who actually tells the truth? Which is ironic because Garrett is a law enforcement officer that will lie and manipulate people all day long if it serves his purpose. Like yesss this is what the show has been saying all along– people aren’t just black and white, good and bad. The world is complicated and grey and what’s ‘right’ isn’t always clear

Speaking of complicated though, oh god Garrett and Russo. What are you two doing. Like I appreciate that Garrett says he’s a mess and needs to figure himself out, that was very mature of him…… aaaaaand now they’re hooking up lol. I still can’t get over the fact that timeline-wise, it’s been like a week since Maya’s death, but hey I guess everyone copes in their own way or whatever lol

Uggghhhh god it is so hard to watch this scene with Dr Gonzalez bringing in the cops and child services, but tbh are you REALLY so shocked, Thony?? Honestly she has been just getting away with shit for far too long, and even when there’s repercussions (like Arman or Garrett getting pissed with her) she gets forgiven quickly enough that it seems she’s forgotten that she might actually have to face real, permanent consequences. (Again, Marco who?? lol) But I do kinda love how angry and disbelieving she is about them taking her away, because it is so fitting for her character, and fits with the way she deals with fear/panic. But again I’m just saying Thony, you could have been sipping coffee with Arman at Luca’s bedside in Dr Saroyan’s clinic rn, but instead Luca is being taken from you, and you and Fi are in handcuffs. Sigh why do these fictional characters never listen to me

Omg wtf RK is trying to drown Nadia?????? No fucking way will I allow this. Ok that’s it, I’ve been saying all along that this dude gotta die and now there’s no going back. KILL HIM NADIA. MAKE HIM REGRET BEING BORN