#moment no he does not & he was going to directly cause them a car accident (god & the OG said the price of fuckin’ w me is death after they

[fuzzyunicorn]

Tryin’ a lil experiment today but I already know my hypothesis is correct

[penelopepine]

Forever in Your Gaze Pt. 5 (Final)

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick x Fem Reader

Part 4 Part 5

Summary: Night at the museum AU. Gaz and Reader are both paintings directly across from one another, and have been in love for many years now. The only thing is that they are unable to actually leave the confines of their canvas, and have never felt others touch.

Word Count: 2529

Content: Established relationship, fluff, light angst, gunshots, wounds, car accidents

The sound stops Kyle in his tracks for all but a moment before he runs towards it. Even as he runs it continues to echo in his ears. To hear that sound he knows that something truly dire is happening, and that Price is in trouble. 

As he runs he continues to hurriedly make his way down the halls as he passes others who are actively trying to get as far away from the current situation. It annoyingly slows him down when he knows that every second right now counts. 

It takes Kyle a few minutes to finally find the source, and when he does he finds that Ghost, Soap, Alex, and Farah are already there. They're huddled up by one of the entrances to one of the open spaces; he can see you are also already here, but by the opposite entrance.  He is glad to know where you are, and that you’re ok for now. At the same time though he wished that you would turn, and walk away, he knew you wouldn’t though. Not when Price was laying on the ground, his leg clearly bleeding, and a strange man standing above him with a gun. 

“What the fuck?" The man shouts; hardening his stance and grip, "That bastard wasn't lying after all!" He grins while looking at all of them.

"You're outnumbered. Let my friend there get up, and maybe you'll get out here alive." Ghost simply states taking a single step forward, and unsheathes his sword.

The man chuckles as he puts a foot on Price's chest; forcing him onto his back, "I don't think so. I might not be able to hurt you, but I can hurt your friend before you even get close to me."  

This ultimately does stop Ghost from approaching any further. As much as it pains him to do nothing he knows that Price would already be gone by the time they got close enough to attack. The only thing they can really do now is to try and negotiate with the man, and find out why he's here.  "What do you want? You're obviously here for something. So what is it?" Kyle inquires.

The man presses down on Price's chest causing him to grunt in pain, "I don't think I have to explain anything actually; besides you'll find out soon enough." He says before looking in your direction an almost manic grin spreads onto his face.

If Kyle had been paying more attention he would have noticed a shadowy figure walking behind you. Unfortunately it's only when the man looks at you, and you let out a loud gasp does he see that Shepherd is standing right next to you. 

"Graves! Stop messing around, and get with the program. Let's get what we need and go!" Shepherd yells at the man now identified to them. Kyle can only think of one thing they'd be here for, and seeing your frame in Shepherd's hands only confirms it to him. 

"Shepherd?" Price grits out; anger more present in his voice then pain. "You son of a bitch! You knew this whole time?"

Looking lazily over towards Price Shepherd answers him with, “Of course I knew. With how many years I’ve been here, and you think I wouldn’t have known?” He then focuses his attention on you as he takes a step forward, and at the same time you take a step away. “Now you need to get back into this frame.” 

“No!” Kyle starts to walk to you, but Graves at the same time re-straightens his aim towards Price. Stopping him before he can even take one step, “Don’t get into the frame!” He desperately calls out. 

You glance in his direction with a grimace, before turning back to Shepherd; it was clear that you were debating what to do right now. Looking around to see how the others are reacting to this, and while everyone else is looking on at the scene in front of them with varying degrees of anger. Farah on the other hand is not where she once stood. 

Kyle at this point finally noticed how everytime Shepherd or Graves looked away, Farah would take a step back; making her way behind them all. With her next step he moves to stand completely in front of her, efficiently blocking her from view from the two intruders. 

As he looks back he sees Farah give him a quick nod before silently making her way down the hall and eventually around the corner. Kyle wasn’t sure what she had planned, but he trusts that it’ll be something to help them with the current situation. He can’t think about that too much right now though; not when you’re being held by the man that wants to take you away from him.

“Final warning! Get in willingly or Price here is getting a second shot to match his first, and he won’t be getting up again if he does.” Shepherd threatens again while gesturing towards Price and your frame, giving you the choice of what you have to choose from. 

“Gaz,” You stare into his soul; your eyes have a glassy look to them, “I’m sorry.” Slowly you stagger towards Shepherd and Kyle can do nothing but watch as you are encompassed once more into the frame. 

A truly sinister grins spreads onto Shepherd’s face as you are fully consumed. He then flicks his gaze up; taking in everyone in front of him now before finally barking, “Graves, march out." 

With those words Graves slowly releases Price from under his boot, but keeps his gun trained on him even as he walks backwards towards Shepherd. Once they are standing side by side Shepherd tilts his head, and whispers something in the ear of the man beside him. In just a flash Graves is raising his arm and shooting the light in the middle of the room; casting darkness all around them. The only lights now coming from the halls. 

Immediately the four of them are rushing forward to get to Price. Looking up though Kyle sees the shadows of the two men running down the halls towards the docking area. 

“Gaz, go!” Price yells at him; his voice still filled with pain. “Don’t let them get away. I’ll be fine.” 

He’s not going to argue with that, and is just as quickly racing down the hall trying to catch up. While running he notices that a second pair of footsteps are coming up from behind him. Looking back he sees that Ghost is actually right in step with him now. Something else that he noticed was how eerily quiet the museum seems to be. Usually there would be all kinds of soft chatters coming from all directions; he would have thought with the situation that there would be even more. 

Upon finally reaching the docking bay Kyle sees both of them already hopping into a white van. Very muffled he can make out your shouts for him. It's that that drives him to run faster; if only he had gotten here sooner. Try as he might, he is no match for a speeding vehicle. 

Kyle falls to his knees just as the van reaches the end of the driveway as they are about to enter the street. There is no way he could possibly catch them at this point. He failed; you're gone. Ghost who is standing beside him places a hand on his shoulder, trying to comfort his friend.

Just as they hurriedly pull out about to drive into the darkness a car comes seemingly out of nowhere, and crashes into the van; stopping both vehicles in their tracks.  Ghost is first to react to the scene in front of them; his comforting hand turns into grabbing Kyle by the arm, and dragging him into a full sprint towards the crash. "Don't mourn yet, Gaz. We can still get her back!" 

Before he can start running back he notices that Ghost is no longer with him. Instead he is standing by the car that hit the van. The window is rolled down, and just as he's about to call out to Ghost to start running the person in the car becomes visible.  "Roach?" 

"Hi, Gaz!"

"Enough chatter let's go!" Ghost booms out to them. He opens the door, and practically lifts Roach out of the car before the three of them are running back to the museum door. 

Just as they enter and the door is about to shut behind them Kyle can hear Shepherd yelling at something at Graves. He doesn't get a chance to hear properly though before the heavy door slams shut. 

"Kyle" Your voice so relieved, as you gaze into his eyes, "I love you so much." 

"And I love you. You're also going to end up killing me with how many times you have almost been taken from me." 

Before more can be said it's Roach who interrupts them, "And I love you both, but now is not the time! Price is still hurt, and if everything in here went to plan everyone else should be waiting for us in the lobby." 

Kyle continues to hold you and your frame as they make their way quickly to the lobby. Once there he sees that Soap, Alex, and Farah are all standing around Price, who is now sitting at the receptionist's desk, his leg bandaged up. Upon seeing them in the lobby as well a breath of relief is released from all of them. 

Soap though is jumping from his seat, and running towards Roach once he sees that he is here as well. “Roach! What are you doing here?” 

“I got a call saying you all could use some help.” Roach says while nodding his head towards Farah as he continues to walk towards the desk with everyone else. 

Remembering that he had watched Farah leave while they were dealing with Shepherd he asked her, “Is that what you did, call Roach?” Kyle by now is standing by Price as he sets your frame on ground, finally allowing you to get out of the frame, holding you tight to his side as soon as he’s able to. 

“Roach isn’t the only one I called, Laswell is on her way as well.” Farah explains, “Everyone in the museum should be following the emergency protocol. We’ll need to join them soon. Laswell said that she was going to be calling law enforcement when I told her what happened.” 

Before more can be said faint shouting can be heard coming from deeper in the museum, it is instantly identifiable as coming from Shepherd. Coincidentally a second later red and blue lights start to shine through the lobby windows.  

Price is fast to take control of the situation. He calls your name, and tells you to get back into the painting, “As for the rest of you. Follow the protocol; go back to your areas, and call it a night. No one is going to be out in the halls tonight.” 

Alex, Farah, Soap, and Ghost promptly follow his command and rush back to their spots. All the while making sure to avoid interacting with Shepherd. Who’s voice is only growing louder as he gets closer. 

Kyle on the other hand doesn’t leave right away; instead takes a few seconds to pull you into a kiss, and give you a promise. “You’re not going to be taken again. We’ll see eachother again.” 

“I’ll take care of her, Gaz. No one will be taking her away while I have her.” Roach comes up reassuring you both with his words. Roach knew how important you two were to each other, and he wasn’t one to break a promise. 

By this time the sirens are getting louder, and lights seem to be getting closer. Kyle takes a few moments though to help you back in before reluctantly returning to his own frame. It wasn’t until he was just about to enter when he heard the echo of several people yelling. It takes everything for him to not turn around, and run to you. 

The urge gets even stronger once he has to then sit there for half an hour listening to it. For all he knows someone he cares about could be hurt, and what is he doing? Just sitting in a frame not doing anything to help them. 

It’s strange though how the silence afterwards is almost worse. He would have popped out, and went to investigate if not for his respect for Price. He had drilled it into everyone in here that emergency protocol means not moving for the rest of the night; just to be safe. 

If he had to guess it was 2 hours of silence later when Laswell appeared right in front of him. 

“Gaz, good to see you again my friend. I’ve heard that you’re able to move out of your frame. You’ll have to tell me all about that at a later date.” She says right away not even waiting for him to react to her presence. “For now though, follow me. There’s someone waiting for you in the lobby.” 

There’s only one person he can think of that would be waiting for him right now. Quickly he gets out once more, what was once a fight is now as simple as swimming through water. On the slow walk he can’t help but ask Laswell questions that he desperately wants to know. “Laswell, how is Price doing right now?” 

“Price is doing well. He’s lucky that the shot was clean, and with a bit of rest he’ll be just fine. Roach is with him right now; he should be helping the old man out right now.” 

“And what of Shepherd and Graves?” 

Laswell shoots him a small smile before answering, “Those two have been arrested. They’re not going to be bothering us anymore; for certain this time.” 

“Why do all this though? They were already under investigation; they had to have known the risk of doing this.”  

“Apparently your girl already had a high buyer from what I’ve heard. They were most likely going to cash in on that before fleeing the country.” 

Before Kyle can ask anything more they arrive at the opening to the lobby, and right there in the moonlight is you. Looking as beautiful as ever; it strangely feels similar to the first time he met you. He strides towards you, and as soon as you're in reach he’s pulling you into his arms; lifting you off the ground as he spins. 

Laswell, who had been forgotten about once he saw you walks closer to you both before saying, “I see you two are doing well. I’ll go ahead and leave you two here then. I’m going to be in my office for the next few hours.” 

It’s quiet as you both watch her slowly disappear down one of the halls, but once she does you two are immediately on eachother. 

After all that has happened tonight the only thing Kyle wants is to feel you against him. “Please never leave my gaze again.” 

“I will forever be in your gaze.” 

Note: IT'S DONE!!! I hope everyone who has read this far enjoyed this. Feel free to tell me your thoughts!

Taglist: @zarsghost @nexthyperfix @kaoyamamegami @thigh-o-saur @clear-your-mind-and-dream

@cod-z @xlittlebubx-blog

[stellarcoachman]

Trying something new and posting directly to Tumblr. I've written a few things for Novembmas, but I don't have a lot of time to write at the moment, so sadly I can't do the full month.

(also, I promise the boys won't be separated for all of them, but that is where we're starting.)

Anyway, this is Day 4: Maintenance / Coat(s)

Emmet does his best to not let it bother him. He tries verrry hard. He does not entirely succeed. It’s just the worst. He knows the challenger didn’t mean anything by it. He knows it was an accident. But in his mind, his ire is directed at them anyway. Not that he would tell anyone that. It would be unprofessional.

Honestly, though. It would be one thing if it had just been the stray Mud Slap. The challenger’s Krookodile obviously didn’t intend to hit him. It was not her fault that Klinklang dodged at the last second. That alone he could overlook. He would have been mildly annoyed, but he simply could have washed the mud out of his coat during his lunch break. But no. That was not all. 

After Krookodile fell to an, admittedly more aggressive than necessary, Flash Cannon, the challenger sent out a Heatmor to back up their Swanna. This had little effect on Crustle, who simply retreated into his shell when Incinerate washed across the car, but was bad news for Klinklang, and when it retreated back to its ball, even worse news for Emmet’s coat. The mud which already marred the entirety of the left side immediately baked in the heat, becoming adhered almost irreversibly.

He tries to ignore it for the rest of the morning, but he notices several challengers eyes lighting on it and responding with either sympathy or bemusement. He does not acknowledge either the mud or the reactions, but his bad mood does cause him to battle more aggressively than usual. No one defeats him all morning.

During his lunch break, he tries to wash the mud off. He succeeds in removing most of the crusted-on material, but the stain remains. He gives an aggravated sigh and goes back to the train, detouring only to grab a prepackaged lunch from the break room, but refusing to eat it there. He doesn’t want to hear whatever the Depot Agents have to say, as well meaning as their light jesting may be.

For the rest of the day, Emmet does his very best to not let the stain bother him. It’s not that big a deal. He knows it isn’t. He knows something like this was bound to happen eventually given his profession and preference for white clothes. Still, he has never been happier for the end of the workday. He has paperwork to do, but none of it is pressing, so he decides he can deal with it later and goes home straight away.

As soon as he’s home, he releases the Pokemon he brought with him and they greet those who were left for the day excitedly. He changes out of his uniform, leaving the coat hanging over a chair to be dealt with later. He feeds the Pokemon and heats up some leftovers for himself. While he sits to eat, he considers the problem. He doesn’t know if his usual go-to of bleach is going to work here. He pulls up his XTrans and taps out a question on it.

That gets him a surprisingly wide array of results, many of which are directly contradictory to each other. He sighs and resigns himself to spending the night researching. Eventually, he settles on a plan and grabs the vinegar from the kitchen and the laundry detergent and creates a concoction of it based on the instructions he found.

As he begins to scrub away at the stain, Emmet allows his mind and his eyes to wander. The Pokemon are finished with their dinner and are now either grooming each other or settling down for the night in their preferred resting spot. It’s quiet. Peaceful. Emmet wishes that it weren’t. He wishes that Ingo was here, even though he knows that he would have to endure an incredible amount of teasing about how impractical white clothing is for a professional battler.

He can imagine the exasperation he would feel, but it would be fond, just as the teasing would be. Ingo would understand. Their coats are important to both of them. They’re symbols of their positions as Subway Bosses, yes, but also serve a more personal purpose. Obviously, nobody could possibly mistake the fact that they’re twins, given their identical looks, but their choice to wear identical, but inverted, uniforms was a deliberate one. They serve to simultaneously distinguish them from one another and to inextricably link them together in the minds of anyone who sees them.

He wonders if Ingo still has his coat, wherever he is. He was wearing it the last time Emmet saw him, but it’s been quite a long time. He hopes he still has it. He hopes he still mirrors him even now that they’re apart.

He shakes his head, banishing the thoughts to the best of his ability and focusing on the task at hand. The coat certainly looks better. He washes the detergent out and inspects it. Almost clean. He throws it in the wash with a generous amount of bleach. If that doesn’t work, he always has his spare coat.

Ingo keeps an ear on the battles happening nearby, but his eyes are focused on the task at hand. He can feel Captain Zisu’s eyes on him during lulls in the battle, but she doesn’t comment on his work. He appreciates that. He knows he’s not doing a very good job.

He’s also not working very quickly, but he would rather take longer than make a mistake. His coat means too much to him, and it’s already so badly damaged. So, he keeps his eyes trained on the tears in the thick fabric as he rhythmically pierces the fabric with the sewing needle and gently tugs the thread tight.

In this way, he slowly manages to fix the worst of the damage. When the sounds of battle fade, Ingo assumes that the Security Corp must be finished with their training for the evening. There’s a small amount of chaos as everyone cleans up and heals their Pokemon, but slowly, they disperse. 

After a few minutes, Zisu takes a seat next to him where he’s cross-legged on the ground. “You really care about that coat, huh?”

He glances up to see her giving him a friendly smile, which he makes a pointless attempt to return. He doesn’t know her all that well, but she’s been kind. “I do.” 

She takes his short response in stride, not seeming terribly offended that he immediately returns to his work. “You must, to bother repairing it when it’s in that condition.” When he only hums in response, she asks, “was it a gift from someone?”

He hums again, focusing on his stitching. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t… know?”

He pauses, then glances up to see her face twisted in confusion. “Ah. I apologize. I’m accustomed to everyone knowing before they even meet me. I’ve been… afflicted, for lack of a better term, with amnesia.”

“Amnesia? What’s that?”

“I can’t remember my home station. Or anything from before I arrived at this station.” Zisu doesn’t immediately answer and he doesn’t look up to see her expression. He continues his explanation. “I’m unsure where I got this coat from, or if it may have been a gift. All I know is that I was wearing it when I was found by the Pearl Clan.”

There’s a minute of silence, during which time Ingo remains focused on his task. Eventually, Zisu says, “that’s… awful.”

Ingo shrugs. “I suppose it is.”

There’s a sort of rustling sound, followed by a markedly more gentle, “you still care about that coat, though.”

“Of course.” He pulls the thread tight and ties off the end, finishing the repair on another tear. “I don’t know exactly why. Perhaps it’s simply because it’s one of the only things I have of home, but I don’t think it’s just that. I have a feeling it meant more to me even before arriving here.” He shakes the garment in question out, inspecting his handiwork. It looks better than before, but still quite ragged. It will have to do. He stands and pulls it on over his Pearl Clan tunic. “Thank you for allowing me to use this space, Captain.”

She smiles as she stands as well. “Of course. You’re always welcome here, Warden. Perhaps next time you’d like to participate in some battles? I’ve been told you have quite a way with Pokemon.”

He pinches his eyes. “I would like that.”

[estellamiraiauthor]

The Stars May Rise and Fall: The Annotated Re-read (Chapter 30)

Just FYI, we’re officially into the stage of this book where just about everything makes me cry. (I know, I know, I wrote the thing, I could’ve changed it! But angst just hurts soooo good!)

As always, spoilers (including spoilers for chapters beyond this one) under the cut!

They take a taxi to Shinjuku to get on the train, and Rei is visibly uncomfortable riding in a car… but there’s not really much alternative at this point, as they both recognize. I don’t think he remembers the moment of the accident, or any moments of consciousness he would’ve had immediately afterwards. The brain tends to block things like that out, but I do think he probably has a fuzzy or even unconscious memory of that moment just before, when you know it’s about to happen but it’s too late to do anything to stop it.

I would love art of Rei’s super extravagant coat in this scene, by the way… yet another one to add to the list!

The taxi driver in Hakone is sort of the opposite of the asshole doctor when it comes to microaggressions. He sees immediately that Rei has a disability and asks for his government ID, which can actually get you a lot of discounts and things like free entry into public facilities like zoos and museums, but I think Rei’s usually too proud to actively ask for those benefits very much. Up to this point, I don’t think Teru even realizes that he HAS one of those ID cards. But the taxi driver is a nice guy who wants to give them the discount, and does. BUT… then he goes and makes some well-meaning but ignorant comment about Teru and Rei spending Christmas with their girlfriends. Of course, this isn’t malicious but it’s still kind of awkward and hurtful.

They get to the hotel, and poor Rei I think is just feeling incredibly guilty, that Teru has done this kind, amazing thing for him when all he (thinks he) has done is make Teru’s life more difficult. GAH, I wish he’d just TALK to Teru because Teru doesn’t feel that way at all.

Teru also feels a little guilty for choosing a traditional Japanese room, since there’s not a lot of furniture and it’s hard for Rei to sit on the floor (and always has been (at least since Teru has known him), as established in an izakaya several chapters ago; this wasn’t directly caused by the more recent injury, so yeah, Teru COULDVE thought of that, but he’s still probably being too hard on himself. He did come up with a really thoughtful plan overall.)

I DO have art of my boys in hotel yukatas! Would REALLY love some art of the bath scene too, but I’m getting a little ahead of myself.

So this hotel (really a ryokan, sorry, I’ve been calling it a hotel because that’s English, but it’s like a traditional Japanese style inn) has meals served in the room, which is super fancy (I think I’ve only been to places that did this twice… both in Hakone, and both as romantic weekend type things), and also super nice if you’re boyfriend’s self-conscious about eating in front of people. The server is also kind to Rei, bringing him a stool because he clearly can’t sit comfortably on the floor, and like with the taxi driver, he’s appreciative and polite. I think there are a couple of reasons behind this sort of shift in attitude. First, I think people in this rural resort town are just being a little more friendly than most people in Tokyo are, but more importantly than that, I think Rei has kind of realized that he does need to change, he does need to learn how to accept help gracefully… and he also just wants to make this trip wonderful for Teru, and he knows that means minimal drama. ❤️

Then they take a private bath in the hot spring. I have nothing really to add here, except that this is way up toward the top of my “I Want Art” list, and every single time I go to a hot spring I think of this scene. ❤️❤️❤️

And then we have the not-sex scene. By which I mean they totally have sex but it’s fade to black. Some readers liked this, some didn’t, but I ultimately think it’s better than the alternative: a sex scene written by me! 😂

I did go back and forth on whether to try to write it. The ultimate reason I didn’t was because I wanted it to be perfect for every reader. And I realize that “fade to black” in itself is not “perfect” for some readers, but I also didn’t want to ruin the whole book by having the sex scene not be right. So if you imagine it wild and kinky, it was. If you imagine it sweet and simple, then THAT’S how it was. If you’d rather not imagine it at all, that’s also completely fine.

Personally, I think it was very sweet, very careful, very full of love and consent… it’s Teru’s first time with a guy, and Rei’s first time since the accident, so I do think they take things very slow, and probably don’t get to full-on anal penetration or anything… mouths and hands? But that’s me. You’re free to imagine it (or not) however you want.

I also think it doesn’t really matter HOW it happened, just THAT it happened. I read a lot of romance novels during the editing of this (I actually hadn’t read ANY before I wrote the first draft… again, I apologize deeply to romance readers, this was never supposed to be a category romance novel!) and there definitely ARE books out there where HOW the characters have sex drives the plot or develops the relationship. And there are others where it’s not really intended to: it’s there for fun, for titillation. In this case, I think the fact THAT they have sex is the plot/character development point. We’ve seen them be caring and careful with each other up to now, and I didn’t think that showing that specifically in the bedroom would change anything. As for titillation… I honestly don’t like sex scenes that exist only for titillation as a reader, so I don’t think I’m the writer to understand what those readers want and to give it to them.

The couple of sex scenes I’ve attempted to write to date (mostly for fanfic exchanges or challenges where the prompt I got was more adult) have also been… not good. When I was a kid, if I happened to draw a picture that I really liked in black and white, I never wanted to color it because I might ruin it. I think attempting to write the sex scene here would’ve felt like trying to color something that already worked in just pencil?

I do want to sort of address one comment made by a reviewer that Rei deserved to be sexy and sexual on the page, deserved to be SHOWN being loved physically as well as emotionally and… I agree. That’s a very good point. Unfortunately… I just really don’t think my writing skills in this particular area are up to the task. It would really have to be perfect, and beautiful… and I’m not sure I could’ve done that.

And then we have the last scene, after the fade to black, where Teru decides that he’s not going to take the deal… he’s going to prioritize being with Rei. Which is exactly what Rei DOESNT want him to do. 😭

[k-ky]

Do you have any Guti + Raul headcannon? If so could u share some of ur favs :D

OK HI so Raul first ever, and only game ban, came during his youth days in Atletico as a preteen, when he fist fought an opponent boy on the ground during the game. It was said the boy was actually Guti from the Real Madrid side. (I LOST THE SOURCE BUT I DESPERATELY WANT TO BELIEVE THIS THE BEST MEET CUTE EVER)

Anyways as history had it, a more grown up teenage Raul joined the youth RM team, which he was NOT initially welcomed by Guti, who tackled him during training and then told him to apparently "fuck off back to Atletico". Idk what happened but I guess they made up and became friends somewhere along the way hehe.

But this is when I have to introduce third wheel/love triangle/ prettiest friend Alvaro Benito.

He, Guti and Raul were a trio of besties and APPARTENTLY had amazing set pieces together in the youth team. Quoting, (and badly translating) Alvaro in this interview: With Raúl and Guti. We were very close friends and also three complementary lefties in different positions of the field. Guti fed me, and I fed Raul. Guti was very good in kicking balls with depth, where I could take advantage of my speed and me getting them to Raúl to score.

ONCE YOU RECOGNISE THIS GUY, you will see him EVERYWHERE in most photos of young Guti and Raul. They were rly besties (threesome)

Raul was the first of them to get promoted from the youth team, followed by Alvaro, and then lastly Guti (who was still benched most of the time while Alvaro and Raul was mostly starting 11 from the get go.) Bet your ass Guti was bitter af abt that knowing him, since he was with Real Madrid the longest. Unfortunately, a bad tackling during the youth national games to Alvaro left knee ended his career very early on, like within two years of Alvaro joining the main team. He had like EIGHT surgeries, one even in the USA, and then got into a CAR ACCIDENT, he was never the same since and couldn't play again. He still hangs out with Guti and Raul TO THIS DAY and sometimes play in charity matches with them, you can see Guti still pass to him and he tries to score (he seems rly good) but he seems to be really careful with his knee :(((

ANYWAYS back to Raul and Guti:

I find that the Spanish media POV of Raul is very different to the fandom (who isn't 100% spanish) POV because Raul seemed very political and temperamental IRL. He is constantly stirring up discourse and unrest in the team if he doesn't agree with the higher ups (re: his time in the Spain NT), giving the media sullen cold shoulders (he deadass sat there and glared at them in silence, his horoscope Cancer is showing) and literally got managers FIRED bc this guy will directly complain to Perez if he disagreed with you. THIS MAN IS A MENACE. Compared to Guti who literally just wanted to party and black out, and sometimes lost his cool on the pitch, Guti is considered the more laid back between the two for REAL.

Additionally, ofc them being co captains, (I'm convinced Guti disinterest in company politics was there to balance out Raul's rumored hunger for power), the fact Guti wanted to leave RM in the later years because of the Galaticos causing him to be benched alot, (other teams were trying to get him such as like Man Utd) and his waning motivation; but he stayed because Raul is here (HE SAID THIS IN AN INTERVIEW). And THAT MOMENT when Guti announced he was leaving RM, ONE DAY AFTER Raul said he was leaving. BC I GUESS IF RAUL ISNT HERE HE CANT BE ASSED????

And APPARENTLY Raul was crying watching Guti's farewell on TV (Guti didnt even cry lol) and he called him right after. And they still kept in touch after moving to Germany and Turkey respectively, because in an interview in Germany he said he was enjoying it there immensely "while my friend Guti does not like Turkey". (Ok visit him then.)

I think there are more but i cant rmb more rn i might rmb it after sajkdfhajksdfh anyways uh the families hang out tgt too Guti's son Aitor was at Raul's son Jorge's birthday party

Here’s Alvaro and Guti being 100% smashed and extremely sus tgt

I have so many photos of them I might do a picspam or smth tumblr has a limit of 10 photos lol

[kitkatwinchester]

BROOOOOOO

Okay so remember when I said "oh, I waited to continue Season 3 until I knew I'd be able to watch a bunch of them at once"?

Yeah things never work out the way I want them to. XD

THAT SAID!!

WE'RE BACK BABY!!

And I really do feel confident that I can finish Season 3 this weekend!! I am very determined to!! Partially because I freaking love this season and it's so engaging and so good and so upsetting and so terrifying and I really need to see how it ends, but also partially because once I finish Season 3, I'm halfway done, and as much as I don't want this show to be over, I really want to finish it, because I have all of these ideas for fan fictions and music video edits that I want to do, but I told myself I'm not allowed to do any of them until I've actually finished the whole show and the movie, 'cause then all of my content is actually up to date. XD

...that was a long babble.

My bad.

ANYWAYS!

Can we talk about how F*CKING BAD*SS DEATON IS?! Dude I MISSED this man!! Let's f*cking GO! This whole opening of this episode is just sooo cool and SO fire, and the way Deaton freaking coordinated EVERYTHING so that he could get answers and find a way to help Stiles I just...we love this man. <3

Also, just, like, how calm and collected he always is in the face of danger because he knows he has the upper hand in some regard. Mountain ash countertops when Peter Hale tried to come after Scott at the veterinary place, Scott in his corner when he got kidnapped by Jennifer Blake, and now this paralytic toxin when he had a literal gun held to his head. Like, THIS MAN! We love him.

I can't remember if it's been officially stated where I am in the show that he used to be the Hale's emissary, or if I read that somewhere on accident, but either way, I am so f*cking glad he's on our team. WE MIGHT ACTUALLY HAVE A CHANCE NOW!!

Now, all of that said...

WHAT THE F*CK?!

Okay, I'm sorry, I am. You know I love this show, with every fiber of my being. And you KNOW I love Allisaac.

But are they KIDDING ME with that scene?!

Kira literally SCREAMED "everyone stay back" at the top of her lungs, and what does Allison do? Literally runs DIRECTLY TOWARDS the area she told them to stay back from, which forces Isaac to push her away, which pushes him into the electrocuted water, which now has him fatally injured (I swear to God, if they KILL ISAAC like THAT, I will be exchanging some WORDS with the writers, because wtf).

Like, seriously, wtf? Allison can be kind of an idiot sometimes about certain things, but SERIOUSLY?! She is NOT that dumb, wtf. I'm sorry, you know I love this show, but that was bad writing, and I'm mad about that, because that was stupid.

That SAID, I will, VERY happily, take the bad*ss Kira moment, because that freaking ROCKED. The way she was panicking, but then it turned into something more determined when she finally leaped that car and then got ahold of the wire and just grabbed it and pulled all the energy out from it.

And the way her eyes glowed and she just stared at Scott, whose presence was undoubtedly grounding her through that. And the way he just stared back in this mix of, like, worry and awe and amazement I just...yeah I ship them so hard. That was a cool moment.

It didn't COMPLETELY make up for the dumb writing that was Isaac getting hurt, but...it helped somewhat.

Anyways.

Season 3, Episode 19.

Ooh. Choices choices choices. Bad*ss Deaton, bad*ss Kira, adorable Kira and Scott...let's see which one gives me a better gif. XD

(Here's a thought--why not both? XD <3)

[joemayo65]

Sometimes a traumatic event can have such a profound impact on a person's life that they would need a PhD in psychiatry in order to understand how deeply it has affected them. I had such a thing happen to me when, at the tender age of fifteen, my mother decided to abandon my father and her three children. It was an experience that taught me, rather harshly, about “finalities besides the grave,” as Robert Frost once wrote, and it left me an angry, confused and anxious young man. Unfortunately, this was just a foreshadowing of things to come. But isn’t that the way it always seems to go? That just when you think that it can’t possibly get any worse, it does?  

At the age of seventeen it did just that, when I was involved in a serious car accident. I was alone and driving while intoxicated down a major highway, doing at least 60 miles per hour, when I fell asleep at the wheel. As I slumbered, saturated in a warm, red wine buzz, my car silently left the road and didn’t come to a stop until it struck a concrete telephone pole. Right before crashing the car had bounced, causing me to wake up momentarily; just in time to see the telephone pole as it passed the point of no return and made impact dead center with the front. I screamed and then my body went forward and my head made contact with the windshield, rendering me unconscious. As I came to, I looked up and I could see the telephone pole looming directly in front of me, as if I were underneath it. There was smoke pouring out from underneath the crumpled hood and the only sound I could hear was the hissing of the radiator. The top of my head hurt really bad. I could hear a police siren somewhere far in the distance. Suddenly I snapped to and realized that the cops were on their way. I thought of my father and the repercussions facing me once he was informed about what had just happened. I opened the car door and stepped out only to fall down. I got back up and made my way across the highway and into the woods. I knew that there was a single-track railway that paralleled the highway close to where I had crashed. I made my way through the woods to the railroad track, blood intermittently pouring down my face. I knew that the single-track led into a small town a few miles away where a friend of mine lived. It was a hot August night in Florida and, as I started walking down the railroad ties, the mosquitoes were all over me. I half walked and half stumbled the two or three miles to my friend's house, the blood still coming down my face from somewhere on my head. 

It was about three a.m. when I reached his front door and knocked quietly. I waited and then I knocked again, a little louder. The curtain on the small window of the door parted and I recognized my friend’s sleepy face. I realized instantly, though, that he had not recognized mine when he screamed like someone who had lost their footing while scaling a cliff. I identified myself immediately and told him that I had been in a car accident. He let me enter his house and allowed me to take a shower so that I could wash some of the blood off of me. When I was in the shower, I could feel the force of the water hitting the top of my head and it stung like hell. When I got out, I went over to the mirror and tried to run a comb through my wet hair. A flap of my scalp came up, and I could see the white of the bone from my skull. It was at that moment when I realized I was going to have to see a doctor. The idea of running away and not having to face the wrath of my father was becoming less of an option. I got dressed and went into the kitchen where my friend was sitting. I showed him the wound on my head by running a comb through my hair. He immediately grabbed his mouth and made a retching sound and ran into the bathroom. I yelled at him through the door that I was leaving for the hospital, which happened to be just a few blocks away. I walked down the sidewalk feeling despondent and soon I arrived at the E.R. I wasn’t there for very long when the police arrived. They were disappointed that I turned out to be only seventeen and they couldn’t arrest me because I was a minor. The severity of what I had gone through finally hit me and I started to cry. I remember the ER nurse saying something to the effect of how we all make mistakes when we are young, and placing her hand reassuringly on my shoulder, making me choke up even more. My father showed up and, to my surprise, he was not angry with me at all. He had driven by the accident and had seen the car. He told me that the front of it was wrapped around the telephone pole and that the headlights were about two feet apart, staring at one another. 

I was living with my father at the time, so he drove me to our house. I was on bed rest for a few days. I was in some physical pain, but I was in even more pain emotionally. I felt ashamed of myself and frightened by my own stupidity. I wondered what was wrong with me, that I could be so reckless and irresponsible. I became anxious and depressed when I realized how badly I had hurt myself and how close I had come to accidentally taking myself out. I missed my mother and wished that she were there to help me. I fell into a depression and I remember sleeping a lot.  

This experience left an impression on me for some time and, after I had healed physically, I sought help through counseling. It was my father’s idea because he was worried about me and could see that I was very confused and anxious. I thought that it couldn’t hurt to try, so I attended individual counseling for a short while. I don’t remember any of the sessions with the therapist and, being so callow, I couldn’t connect that I may have had a problem with alcohol. In my immature mind, being young meant being invincible. “Live fast, die young and leave a good-looking corpse,” had been my motto and, unfortunately, I seemed hell-bent on achieving my goal. So, it wasn’t too long before I was drinking again. Even though the experience was a bad one and it had stopped me in my tracks, I did not have the insight, maturity, or education to realize that my drinking and other rebellious behaviors might be a sign of something happening on a much deeper level.  

[amplesalty]

Halloween 2022 - Day 6 - The Mothman Prophecies (2002)

Na na na na na na na na  Mothman!

Today brings us the second half of our traditional ‘The...’ double bill but both this and Boggy Creek are linked in that sort of cryptozoology world. At least, I guess I’d call the Mothman cryptozoology, I’ve heard people refer to it as a demonic entity which would be something entirely different. But I’m happy to say I enjoyed this one infinitely more than Boggy Creek.  I know this was down to a podcast as well that I had listened to last year talking about the Mothman mythos, I don’t remember much from it other than the idea of the Mothman being seen as this harbinger of doom, with sightings of it linked to disasters taking place nearby.

Which is shown early on, perhaps not immediately obviously so, when husband and wife John and Mary Klein get into a car accident whilst returning home from a house viewing. An accident seemingly caused when Mary gets a vision of a huge moth life creature flying directly at the car. During her treatment, the doctors discover a brain tumour that ultimately takes her life but before she passes, Mary begins to draw strange images of what she saw that fateful night.

I would like to take a moment to mention that I love how during that house viewing they break off to go fuck in a closet and when the realtor comes to find him, he doesn’t bat an eyelid and just continues his up sell without breaking a sweat. What a pro. John and Mary incidentally are played by Richard Gere and Debra Messing, which struck me as something of an odd pair, both in terms of the age gap and their usual acting roles, at least in my head. I mean, thoughts of Richard Gere normally turn to his pairings with Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman or Runaway Bride. And Debra Messing obviously is notable for Will and Grace which would have been in full swing around this time. I completely forgot that show came back again in the late 2010’s. I suppose there’s more to their respective filmmographies than comedy though, they do both have biblical credits after all, Messing playing a very different Mary in hers...

The idea that Mary wouldn’t have known about the tumour had it not been for that accident does raise the question of just what motive does this Mothman have. Certainly the movie would want you to believe that there are dark forces are work here but was this just a warning of sorts?

Two years later, John is driving through the night to an interview he is due to conduct as part of his job at the Washington Post, only to find himself way off track in West Virginia with absolutely no idea how he got there. When his car breaks down, he goes looking for help only to be dragged into a house with a shotgun pointed at him with questions as to why he’s been snooping around their house for the last 3 nights, knocking on their down and asking to use the phone at 2.30am. There’s definitely something strange going on in Point Pleasant.

From there the movies weaves it’s path through a series of strange events that kept me intrigued to see what would happen next and to what extreme this could reach. There was this real feeling of dread building up, that something disastrous could happen so any shot of a crowd full of people felt like this could be the big moment.

Like Boggy Creek, sights of this ‘creature’ are kept to a minimum but it feels like these events have so much more weight and impact to them to see how shaken each witness is, how people seem to be driven crazy from seeing this entity. It’s one thing to catch a glimpse of Bigfoot, sure he might be 7 feet tall but your mind can kind of process that, maybe it’s just a trick of the mind or it’s just an unusually tall person just hanging around in the woods for some unexplained reason. But to see this monstrous image of a humanoid creature with a ten foot wing span, to start having visions and to hear eerie predictions of death and destruction that end up coming true forces you to confront something other worldly and question something greater than your own existence. How do you live with the crushing knowledge that so many people will perish and yet you can do absolutely nothing to save them? Worse yet, any attempts you do make will either make you look crazy or implicate you in whatever does go wrong.

There’s one really lowkey amazing moment that hit me when, in amongst all the weirdness and tragedy that had befallen Point Pleasant since he arrived, John is in town and gets these looks from some of the locals. It’s only for a second or two and it’s not really touched upon further but it really struck me as he was no longer chasing the Mothman; he had become him. He was now this human embodiment of this prophecy of catastrophe. Whatever agency was unleashing this upon the world, fate or happenstance, it was like John was the catalyst for it all.

I really dug the atmosphere the movie had going for it, be it’s cold colour palette underlined the macabre sense of death lingering in the air throughout, or just this overbearing sense of forces conspiring to keep John in Point Pleasant. Even when he gets out he’s compelled to go back.

And cold is an apt word because, hey, this is a Christmas movie after all.

It’s cool as well when you realize the way things are starting to play out with little plot points established early then paying off. I’m not sure how well the movie would stand up to repeat viewings once you know how it all goes down but I suppose it could be neat to see if there are any things like that scattered throughout. At least that first time you’re still wondering what bad thing is going to happen, it’s like when you’re watching Casualty and you try and guess who’s going to mutilate themselves and how. I’ll take the farmer accidentally sticking his arm in the wheat thresher for a thousand, Alex.

My one quibble about the movie would be the strange transitions it has, more so in the first half of the movie, where it suddenly do a flyover of a forest before going over a power line and the camera inverts on itself. Just comes across as something you’d get in a cheap B movie.

I’m curious as to what the writers/directors were aiming at in terms of symbolism and what not because coping with loss seems to be the most glaring one, one that you hardly need to be a master psychologist to see, the sense of loss on a grand scale with these disasters serving as a backdrop to John’s own personal loss and the way he overcomes it. It’s shown early on that he’s not ready to reintroduce himself into the dating pool and by the end he’s pushed through all these hurdles, literally rejecting the idea of reconnecting with his wife, in order to pursue this other romantic opportunity. Although, this film must have a body count of like 500 people or something so whoever is responsible for all these craziness, there’s probably easier ways to get this guy to move on with his life that don’t involve the grisly death of countless men, women and children.

[icefire149]

Certain parts of season 14 and 15 just rub me the wrong way. Everything about the shift when Mary dies again to set up conflict between Dean and Cas just doesn’t hit right. So here’s a new way I’d do it:

Jack still accidentally murders Mary, but after zipping around the Earth in a panic, he goes to Castiel. He has no fear that he’ll lose Cas over this. It’s Sam and Dean that he’s worried about. Especially Dean since he was horrible when he was born. Dean only more recently seemed like he really cared about him. He can’t mess this up. Jack brings Cas back to the house and explains what happened. 

We know Cas is a strategist and his mind would be in overdrive, because of course the Winchesters weren’t going to be okay with any of this. Hell, he’s barely keeping it together. Mary was his friend. But, Jack is his child and responsibility. And he loves him too much to let him suffer. So he devises a plan: Nick was trying to summon Lucifer from the Empty. He was succeeding. Jack and Mary were trying to stop him and Lucifer obliterated Mary. Jack wasn’t quick enough but he was able to send Lucifer back into the Empty and in a rage killed Nick. Now Jack is panicking because it’s still his fault, but not his fault. It’s Nick and Lucifer’s. And Jack while being mostly soulless is still a bit hesitant to weave such a lie to their family, but he agrees. Cas reassures him that the Winchesters will be devastated, but they’ll understand better this way. As a family, all of them will be able to grieve and move on eventually. Because: Nick shouldn’t have done what he did. It was high tension and everyone was upset, and it was inevitable an accident happened. It was just a terrible accident. 

Distraught, Jack asks if there’s anything they can do to fix things? If they can bring Mary back? If they had a body....maybe. This leads Jack to want to see Rowena to see if she could just bring Mary back. They decide to try, but stick to the story. Cas gets zapped back to his truck and Jack goes to Rowena. So we have the similar situation where Jack in a panic tries to force Rowena to fix things and she tries, but also still tips off the Winchesters. Still the magic doesn’t work and Jack is scared. Sam and Dean get to the house and are a mess trying to make heads or tails of the mess. Automatically the blame is on Jack. They’ve been worried about his soul. He must have gone completely dark side. And we’ll note that Dean is the one crawling out of his skin pacing and ranting. Sam is more withdrawn. Jack flies into Cas’ truck when he’s almost there. Cas goes into the house first. He tells Jack to wait in the truck. Cas bars the doorway with his body while he tries to explain the ‘tale’ Jack told him in the car and how devastated he is over Mary and terrified of what they, Sam & Dean, will do next. 

Dean believes Cas. It’s Cas. His anger rolls into grief & tears. His mom died. How did he get here where he has to bury her again. Cas comforts Dean with soft touch and words. He’s sorry. He’s so sorry. Cas gives into his own grief a bit. It’s Sam that continues to stand there in quiet rage. It’s like his whole lifetime of trauma is torn open again. And now there’s this new angry wound that’s only festered since Amara brought Mary back. Yes, he should be grateful that he’s gotten to know her at all, but.....it was never right. She never stayed long enough to really know him. Emotionally her bond with Dean was always stronger. He was always just a fly on the wall. She was his mom too. And now...even Cas is crying more than him. When the hell was she ever anything to him? Sam’s anger spirals, but he’s trying to keep it down. He keeps going over the house there. Something about everything isn’t sitting right with him. There’s something off. He knows it. 

So with the funeral and going home to the bunker, things feel flipped. Jack and Cas were most worried about Dean, but it’s Sam they should be worried about. Dean is angry and upset, but he’s not blaming Jack. He’s actually trying to be there for Jack. This development has Cas over the moon, because this is all he ever wanted. For them to be a family. While Dean fell into the cycle of his father’s anger when Cas died s12/13....this time he’s being what he/John should have been. And Sam is the one sinking into John’s cycle of anger. Sam’s the one drinking a bit more. He’s quiet, but there’s an anger that’s clearly there. He’s distancing himself from Jack and Cas. Eventually he blows up and admits that he blames Jack and his soullessness. For all they know he hurt her / let her get hurt purposely. Which gets Cas angry and Sam flat out admits that he doesn’t trust Cas’ word. Something feels off to him, and this isn’t the first time Cas has tried to go behind their backs. He has quite the history of it. 

This causes Sam, Dean, and Cas to go at it yelling. Jack overhears some and blames himself for ruining everything again. He’s been nothing but trouble for their family. Maybe it would be better if he just left. So he does. This ties us back to Jack being manipulated by Heaven. Dean and Cas are out trying to find him. All ties back in to Jack goes home and finds Sam alone in the bunker. And it’s easy to fall back into the trust Jack has always had with Sam. He’s always had Jack’s back. And he manipulates Jack, telling him that they’ve worked out a spell to bring Mary back. They altered the malak box spell work to harness and focus Jack’s powers. It should be enough. Dean and Cas will be back any minute with Rowena. Jack eagerly believes him and does as he’s told. Jack gets in the box and he stares up at Sam nervous. Sam tells him that there’s nothing to worry about anymore. Cas told them everything. They can fix things now. And Jack looks at him confused, everything? Sam presses that yes, Cas explained how it was an accident. Jack breathes a sigh of relief and then crumbles into tears, how he didn’t mean to. He asked her to stop, but she wouldn’t give him a moment to breathe and then..it was an accident. He didn’t mean to hurt her. And cold as ice Sam goes, I know, and closes the lid. Locking the box. 

It’s a while before Dean and Cas make it back. Jack has enough time to completely unravel in his grief, and anger, and realization that Sam lied and tricked him. Everyone keeps manipulating him and lying. Dean and Cas get back and start arguing with Sam. Just like in the show, Jack breaks out and leaves. Sam still goes into it explaining the truth he got from Jack. Cas LIED. He covered up Mary’s death. He’s known the truth all along. Dean refuses to believe Sam. He’s mistaken. 

Things roll into Moriah and Jack makes it so no one can lie. And because of that the truth finally comes out of Cas’ mouth. And Dean breaks. He tells Cas that he’s dead to him. Cas leaves to look for Jack on his own. Dean’s fury goes in on Jack. He never should have gotten attached. Jack was always a monster. All of this rolls into Chuck’s return and manipulation. He pushes Dean to kill Jack. And the puzzle pieces click into place for Sam. He realizes how much this is all a game to Chuck. Chuck pulled the strings to make every bad thing that’s happened in his life happen just for his own entertainment: Mom, their childhood, dad’s shitty parenting, Jess, demon deals, demon blood, Dean going to Hell, Ruby, the apocalypse, visions, unanswered prayers, EVERYTHING..... Chuck’s newest episode of entertainment was causing Jack to accidentally kill Mary and have to live with the consequences of losing his only family over it. Sam’s anger goes directly into Chuck. 

He needs to get to Dean. Meanwhile Dean finds Cas and Jack in the cemetery. Cas gets between them and tries to talk Dean down. Dean is shaking with fury. He’s never been this mad before. He hated Jack for being born and getting Cas killed, and then he grew to love the kid as family, and he hates him for making him feel this much. He killed his mom, and lied about it. Cas tries to explain that he was trying to protect all of them. He was trying to maintain their family. Dean coldly goes, there’s no family here to maintain. I’m a hunter. Saving people and hunting monsters is the family business, and....I see two monsters in front of me. And he holds the equalizer up, shakily. Jack sends Cas flying so he can approach Dean. He understands what Dean has to do. He accepts it and he’s sorry. Jack gets on his knees and waits. Dean can’t quite do it. He’s trying.

Sam and Chuck get there. Sam starts yelling how Chuck set this whole thing up. Chuck is trying to make Dean do this...for his own entertainment. And everything rolls back into what the actual show did. Dean can’t kill Jack and Sam shoots Chuck. Everything continues to roll similarly as s15 did, but the divorce arc is leaning heavily on Dean is angry about Cas betraying him. 

[sorryimanon]

Character: Katsuki Bakugou

Warnings: so much fluff and a bit of spice

In which you and bakugou witness your child’s quirk for the first time

-

Early mornings were the best in your opinion. The warmth of the blankets hugging every inch of your cold body, the sound of cars zipping by outside the cracked window, and the familiar wandering hands that belong to none other than your boyfriend. It’s quite a sight, seeing Katsuki all vulnerable with his head angled just right into the base of the pillow, a pool of drool collecting on it. Usually he’s an early bird, waking up before you to cram in a quick workout then head off making breakfast in the kitchen. However, the routine switched up when a little bundle of joy enterd both of your lives.

Everyone, including you, was surprised you managed to settle Katsuki down let alone have him become a domesticated father. Of course it scared the living shit out of you. Sex with Bakugou was amazing, tenfold even, but one night both of you made an irrational decision to not use protection while being intimate, resulting in you heaving yourself over the toilet the following weekend.

“Stomach flu, right?” Katsuki reasoned anxiously.

“Right.” You reassured him with a crooked smile.

Nine months later you gave birth to a beautiful baby girl. To say you were happy was an understatement. Hell, everything you ever wanted landed graciously on your lap like a silver plater. Even though you and Katsuki weren’t planning having kids for a long time, the moment when your daughter finally arrived, it’s like both of y’all knew she came into your lives at the right time.

Now she lays crushed between Katsukis chest, his arms wrapped protectively around her as though something were to have grabbed her in the middle of the night. Their breathing synchronized each time they inhaled and exhaled. For a second, you admire the two figures in front of you. She sure inherited the looks from your boyfriend. Same blonde hair, toothy grin, and crimson eyes. At least she had more of your personality and mannerisms. Although occasionally her sudden outbursts reminded you of Katsuki when he was a teenager.

Your daughters head was in a awkward 45 degree angle, making her blonde hair cover half of her face. Instinctively, you reached over and brushed aside the tangled mess, making her squirm in place at the sudden touch. She opened her eyes finally and obnoxiously yawned, stretching out her small arms. One of her arms accidentally whacked Katsuki in the face during the process.

“Ugh you fucking gremlin...” Katsuki mumbles, playfully swatting his daughters hand away from his face. Your daughter eventually unlatched herself from his arms and began to jump up and down in the space between you and your grumpy looking boyfriend.

“Daddy’s up! It’s time for breakfast!” Your daughter joyfully proclaimed while bouncing around on the king sized bed.

“No it’s not.” He swept his feet that weren’t covered by the devet under hers, causing her to land softly against the bed. You knew she enjoyed the harsh playfulness when you heard her cries of laughter. You giggled and looked over at Katsuki, who at the moment had a temporary scowl across his face.

“Squirt you know the rules. Get yourself cleaned up and then we’ll start making breakfast,” you promised her.

Her eyes lit up at that moment like it was Christmas morning and hoisted herself off the large bed. She closed the door behind her, like you taught her, and scurried off to the shared bathroom. You wanted to have a moment of peace before she comes barging in again. Closing your eyes, you hummed in satisfaction and snuggled more into your pillow. Across from you, Katsuki had other plans in mind. He closed the space between you and laid his hand on the base of your waist, the other bunching up your shirt. Wanting to feel your skin, he slipped his hand under your shirt and rubbed circles around your abdomen. The coldness that clung to your skin immediately warmed up by his gentle touch. The sensation dragged a familiar sensual feeling down your body. A feeling that you haven’t felt in a while. Opening your eyes to where they’re just tiny slits, you can make out Katsuki staring right back at you.

“I know you’re still awake dumbass,” he softly spoke, his breath fanning the crook of your neck. So close he took the opportunity and started kissing the sensitive area. His tongue darted out, licking a small strip in the crevice. You didn’t need a third party to know a bruise was already forming.

“K-Katsuki. Not right now. Our d-daughter is just down the hall from us,” you manage to croak out as he attacked your neck with love bites. Oh how you missed these small little interactions with him. You knew they resorted to adultry, but anything involving foreplay with Katsuki excited you.

He sucked and bit some more of your supple flesh, causing you to ripple out a soft moan.

“Oh baby, how I missed your fucking moans.”

His morning voice mixed in with his already deep brooding one made you even wetter by the minute.

Soon the hand that was rubbing circles around your stomach extended to your breast, grabbing it playfully in tune to his tongue massage on your neck. Katsuki flicked his thumb over your perky nipple, giving it much desired attention. You parted your mouth slightly at the action, letting him latch his lips onto yours. Thankfully your moans were muffled, or else your daughter would’ve heard.

To return the favor, you carelessly grope Katsukis member through his boxers, earning a groan from him within your mouth.

“Fuck baby. You almost made me...cum by just... doing that,” he said in between sloppy kisses.

Without breaking the kiss, you shifted yourself on top of him, straddling his waist with your bare legs on display. His hand left your breast and replaced itself onto your hip, massaging the skin that was exposed. You removed your mouth from his, catching some air you forgot existed until he meshed into you. The two of you were a panting mess.

“It has been awhile, hasn’t it?” You whispered into his ear.

If looks could melt, his infamous smirk would. “Quickie? Before the brat ruins the fun.”

You huffed and pinched his cheek to the point where the flesh turned red.

“Ow fuck! Okay shitty woman. I take back what I said.” He smacked your ass as revenge and kissed the corner of your mouth. “For later then.”

You triumphantly smirk and peck his lips for good measure. Despite being cold turkey from sex, you knew punishing him by having him wait was the best part. You pushed yourself off him and rejoiced to the warm feeling of his chest. Defeated, Katsuki begrudgingly snaked his arms around you, kissing the crown of your forehead. He had to admit, he’d rather enjoy your body next to his than underneath all sweaty with lust. Don’t be fooled, he loves that too.

“What’s taking that brat so long-“

A loud beep startled both you and Katsuki to sit up straight in bed. It was your fire alarm. An alarm that hasn’t gone off since when you first moved in. Katsuki activated his quirk by accident one time in the kitchen, emitting the same annoying blast of noise this morning.

Leaving the bed in shambles, you both hurried out the door in search for your daughter. A foul scent of smoke and ash was wafting through the air. What you weren’t expecting was for the living room and kitchen to be perfectly pristine of any flames or smoke. You checked the perimeter of the area a second time to make sure you weren’t going crazy. Nothing. Maybe the fire alarm was glitching out? You were pull out of your daze when Katsuki slipped on his own feet coming out from the long hallway.

“I think I found out where the smoke is coming from,” he said breathlessly.

He dragged you along with him to your daughters room. Scared and confused, you turn the nob and slowly open the door. There sat your daughter, in the middle of the room laughing hysterically at something. She then noticed you two standing there and smiled widely. Gosh, she looked so much like her father there.

“Mommy daddy, look what I can do!” She said before plugging her nose and lighting herself on fire.

You’d think, this image would scare you, but no. You stared at awe towards your inflamed daughter, basking in at how the flames protected her body and moved with her. It finally came the day where your child’s quirk manifested. She was basically a lone torch. Katsuki mirrored the same emotions you were feeling as well. Your daughter extinguished herself and trailed over to where you both stood. She hugged your lovers leg, cranking her head to where they can directly look at each other.

“Does this mean I can be like you daddy? I can be a future hero just like you?”

Katsuki couldn’t help but to chuckle and bend down to grab her and place her on his hip.

“Just don’t be hanging out with extras when you’re older kiddo.” He reached around and started tickling her aggressively on the sides.

“I promise d-dad n-no stupid extras!” Her laugh with the combination of Katsukis childish taunts was like music to your ears.

And that wasn’t the last of the rude awakening mornings. Nevertheless, you cherished them more now than ever.

-

(Might be a reoccurring story bc I love daddy katsuki with a torch daughter)

[sequinsmile-x]

these are the saddest ones i could find that made a whole ? concept. now go. hit me in the face with the saddest thing you’ve ever written. make me wish i was dead.

“You’re the reason I’m still here.”

“Why does it sound like you’re saying goodbye?” 

“You have to let me go.”

“It’s killing you.”

“You flinched.”

Ok bestie...you asked for it.

I recognise that the rest of you are innocent bystanders (apart from Kirby and Lina who were my angst consultants...they made this worse) so, I'm sorry for this. Kind of.

-x-

Annihilation

She looks up and Aaron is staring at her, an expression on his face that she cannot read, and she wonders when she stopped being able to know what he was thinking. If the crash took that from them too.

Words: 4.3k

Warnings: Major character death, car accident, injuries, death of a child, miscarriage

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

The last thing he hears before everything changes is Emily’s laugh. Bright and beautiful coming from the passenger seat as she reacts to something Jack had said, a joke the young boy had heard at school that afternoon. 

Later, he’d be strangely grateful that they were happy in that moment. That he could take the tiniest bit of reassurance that they’d once been capable of anything other than sorrow so overwhelming it threatened to drown them. 

Aaron sees the car the second before it hits them, careening directly into Emily and Jack’s side. The sound of metal tearing makes his ears ring in a way he remembers, signalling catastrophe, signalling death. The car spins as he fights to get control, his head hitting the steering wheel hard as they eventually come to a stop. 

The silence that follows is the worst of it. A deceitful type of peace that would haunt him for years to come. He’s disorientated when he lifts his head, a pounding against the inside of his skull that he fights against, his vision blurring at the edges.  He wipes the back of his hand over his forehead and he pulls it away to see blood, and can feel it trickling down his face. 

“Jack?” He says frantically, grateful his seat belt comes undone when he presses the button. “Emily?” 

He looks in the back of the car, ignoring the protest in his neck as he does so, and Jack is unconscious, his head lulling to the side, a cut on his forehead. The impact of the other vehicle having thrown him upwards. 

“Jack? Buddy,” he tries to reach back but can’t, his chest protesting the movement. “I need you to wake up.” 

“Aaron.” 

He turns to look at Emily, her eyes full of as much fear as he had ever seen in them, but he’s grateful she’s awake, that she’s looking at him. 

“Em.” He looks her up and down and tries to suppress his grimace, the metal of the car crumpled around her, the smell of blood in the air. “Where does it hurt?” 

She coughs, the movement to her chest clearly causing her pain. “Everywhere.” She tries to breathe but struggles. “I can’t move my arm, I think it’s trapped.” 

He looks back into the rear seat of the car, Jack still not waking, and the back at his wife. “It will be fine, help is on the way.” 

“Are you hurt?” She asks, looking him over, still struggling to breathe. “I can’t hear Jack.” 

“He’s not awake.” Aaron says, sounding much calmer than he felt, all the knowledge he was cursed with about this kind of thing clawing at his insides. 

“Sir.” A voice from outside the car says, a kind looking woman gaining Aaron’s attention through the smashed window. “We’ve called 911, they are on their way.” 

“Thank you.” He says. “My wife and son are hurt, they need help.” 

“I’ll be ok, honey,” Emily tries to reassure him, the rattle to her lungs doing nothing of the sort, “I can already hear the sirens.” She smiles weakly at him. “Concentrate on Jack, he’ll be scared when he wakes up.” 

He notices her eyes start to droop shut, her hold on her consciousness failing. “Em, sweetheart,” he says panicked, reaching out to touch her, his hand on her arm, “I need you to stay awake.” 

She groans, slipping into unconsciousness and Aaron worries he might truly be about to lose everything. 

___

He watches from the back of an ambulance that he was all but forced into, as Emily and Jack are cut out of the car. He doesn’t look at the driver of the other vehicle, pretends the car doesn’t exist, knowing he’s likely to do something stupid if he sees the face of the person who had hurt the people he loved the most. 

Emily is removed from the wreck first, the gurney she was on pushed towards a nearby ambulance. Aaron rushes over, ignoring both his own injuries and the paramedic who was trying to help him, and he feels relief when he sees she’s awake, albeit not lucid. 

“Em,” he says, grabbing her hand as the paramedics open the back doors of the ambulance, “you’re going to be ok.” 

“I told them to get Jack first but they wouldn’t listen,” she says, her voice rough, “they wouldn’t listen.” 

He sees her chest stutter, how much she’s struggling to breathe, and he knows he needs to calm her down, that he was likely the only one who could.

“Hey, you’re ok.” He says, looking back over to the car, to the team who were trying to help his son. “It’s ok.” He looks up at the paramedic helping Emily, the need to go now clear on his face, and he nods. “I’m going to stay here, wait until Jack is out, then we’ll meet you at the hospital.” 

She smiles tightly at him. “Ok.” 

He watches as she’s put into the back of the ambulance, his reassuring smile only fading when she was no longer able to see him. 

___

When she wakes up, the first thing she feels is pain. Her entire body sore, a familiar feeling after being thrown around in a car. 

“Emily?” 

She opens her eyes, blinking against the fluorescent lighting, and sees JJ sitting next to her, a relieved look on her face.

“JJ.” She says, her voice cracking. “What are you doing here?” She asks, trying to sit up, failing when her ribs pull sharply, pain shooting through her. “Where’s Aaron?” 

“He’s with Jack.” JJ answers carefully, clearly holding something back. “He called, asked me to sit with you.”

“Is Jack ok?” Emily asks, hearing the breathlessness in her own voice, how much effort it took to fill her lungs. She sees JJ hesitate and suddenly she can’t feel anything, her entire body numb with fear, her chest constricting for a different reason altogether. “JJ…please. What’s going on?” 

JJ sighs sadly and she reaches out for Emily’s hand, taking it in her own. “Em, Jack hasn’t woken up yet.” 

Emily gasps, her spare hand coming up to cover her mouth. “What? What does that mean?”

“They are running tests but,” JJ pauses, blowing out a shaky breath, “it doesn’t look good.” 

Emily stares at her for a second before she springs into action. “I need to go,” she stops suddenly, her hand at her chest as she grimaces, pain cracking through her lungs, “I need to go see them.”

“Honey, no, you have 3 cracked ribs and a punctured lung.” JJ says firmly, helping her lay back down. “You’re not going anywhere, but I will go find out what I can for you.” 

“Ok.” She reluctantly agrees, knowing she’d be no good to Aaron or Jack if she collapsed in an attempt to make it across the hospital. “Please hurry though.” 

JJ nods and stands up, giving Emily’s hand a brief squeeze before she lets go. “I’m so glad you’re ok.” 

She’s only only for a few minutes when the door opens, a man in a white coat she doesn’t recognise walking into her hospital room. 

“Mrs Hotchner, you’re awake.” He says, a smile on his face that seemed a little too kind. “I’m Doctor Thompson, I’m one of the ER doctors here.” 

She doesn’t have the energy to correct him, to tell him that she never took her husband's name, so she smiles politely instead. “Do you know anything about Jack? My step-son.” 

“I’m afraid not, he’s been moved to the paediatric ICU.” Doctor Thompson explains, taking a seat in the chair next to her bed, a look on his face that she recognised. 

“What’s wrong?” Emily asks, flashing a smile at the doctor when he looks confused. “I profile behaviour for a living. I know the look on your face. I’ve used it myself. It means you have bad news.” 

He smiles sadly at her. “You’re very good at your job.” He clears his throat. “You sustained injuries we would expect given the level of impact. You dislocated your shoulder which we reset, you have cracked ribs and a punctured lung. You’ll have to stay for a few days before we can remove your chest tube. I am sorry to tell you that your baby did not survive the stress that the crash caused your body.” 

Emily huffs out a laugh at first, sure she’s heard him incorrectly. “My what?” 

“Your baby, Mrs Hotchner. I’m afraid you had a miscarriage shortly after arriving in the ER.” 

Her brain short circuits, his words sinking in, and her entire body freezes. Overwhelmed with emotion she didn’t anticipate as tears press at the back of her eyes.

They’d been trying, but not for long. It was something they wanted, something they spoke about at night laying in their bed together. A little person that was part her and part him. A sibling for Jack. 

Something she had lost before she even knew she’d had it. 

“But…I didn’t know I was pregnant.” She chokes out, a tear falling onto her cheek. “I had no idea.” 

“I am very sorry.” The doctor says, “our on-call OB will come by later to talk to you.” 

Emily nods, and she doesn’t remember much of the conversation after that.

___

The next time she wakes up Aaron is there. He’s sitting in the chair next to her bed, tension rolling off of him in a way she hadn’t experienced before, a bandage on his head from where it had hit the steering wheel.

“Aaron?” She says gently, not wanting to scare him but doing it anyway if the way he jumps slightly is anything to go by. He looks at her, his gaze vacant. “Hey.” 

“Hi.” He replies, his throat tight, words clipped. “Are you ok?” 

She nods, even though it’s not true. “How’s Jack?” 

She sees the moment he crumbles, his elbows on his knees as he covers his mouth with his hands, wiping his face with his palm before he speaks. 

“He’s not going to wake up.”

It takes a moment for his words to sink in, the lack of emotion making them seem even stranger. 

“What do you mean he’s not going to wake up?” She asks, her voice quiet, whispering the words as if saying them too loudly would make them true. 

“It means he’s going to die, Emily.” He shouts, immediately closing his eyes at how harsh he had been, his fists tight by his side. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…my son is going to die.” 

She reaches out for him, sitting up quicker than she should have, the tug of her chest tube barely registering, and she puts her hand on his shoulder. 

He hugs her back, but for the first time she finds no comfort in it. 

___

They find out later, already home in a house that now felt like a museum of their own memories, that the driver of the other car died on the scene. Two empty bottles of vodka in the passenger footwell, the stench of alcohol mixing with the stench of death. 

___

It was like living with a ghost. The shell of the man she used to be married to haunting the halls of their home. She’d often find him just standing in Jack’s room, as if it was the only place he felt close to his son. 

She hated that she had been the one to help him decide to turn off Jack’s life support machines, that she’d been the one to gently talk to Aaron until he signed the paperwork, a decision he knew he had to make. Emily hoped he’d forgive her for it one day, because she wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to. 

They had him buried next to Haley and she’d watched throughout the funeral as well meaning people told Aaron that Jack was with his mother again, like the thought was meant to bring him any peace. That he was meant to feel any better about the fact his son had been taken from him by a drunk driver. 

Emily had wanted nothing more than to take him away from it all, to protect him from the most recent blow life had dealt him, but she knew she couldn’t. That they’d be living in the ashes of their old life forever, things never able to be the same way again. She never told him about the miscarriage, the mere thought of expanding their family seeming ridiculous now, inconsequential after what they had lost. 

The weeks drag by, both of them off work for the foreseeable, with nothing to do other than fester in the grief that painted the walls of their home. Photos of Jack everywhere, his toys still in the living room from the last morning he’d been there. 

They talked, but didn’t speak. Only exchanging pleasantries and small talk, not quite able to broach any of the conversations they needed to have. Both worried if they pulled at that thread everything would unravel around them. 

“There’s a letter for you here.” Aaron says, a tight smile on his face as he hands it to her across the kitchen counter. “It looks like it’s from your OBGYN.”

“Oh.” She replies, picking up the letter, knowing it was a follow up appointment now she’d been discharged from the hospital. A discussion with her doctor that she was sure would reassure her that she’d be able to conceive again. Like her husband could even look at her, let alone touch her. “Thanks.”

She walks towards the front door and stuffs the letter into her purse without opening it, hoping he would take it to mean she didn’t want him to read it.

“I thought you had your pap smear recently.” He says, crossing his arms as he furrows his brows. 

“I did. It’s just a check up.” She tries to walk past him, the bottle of wine in the fridge calling her name, but he blocks her path. 

“Is something wrong?” 

“Aaron, nothing’s wrong, I-”

“Don’t lie to me Emily.” He says firmly, his eyes boring into hers. “The one thing we have left is that we’re always honest with each other.” 

She stares at him before she closes her eyes, lowering her head to look at the floor, tucking her hair behind her ears as she does so. 

“I was pregnant.” She says quietly, her voice even, void of emotion. It was the first time she’d allowed herself to say it outloud, to admit to even herself that the conversation she had with the doctor in the hospital had taken place. She looks up and Aaron is staring at her, an expression on his face that she cannot read, and she wonders when she stopped being able to know what he was thinking. If the crash took that from them too. 

His silence was loud, too much for her to bear, twisting in her gut until she had no choice to carry on. To fill the quiet they had found themselves living in.

“I didn’t know.” She carries on, her voice shaking now as she wraps her arms around herself, trying to hold herself together in the way he used to do for her. “If I’d known I would have…you would have known.” Her lower lip trembles as she tries to keep it together, the emotions she had pushed down since the accident breaking free, seeping out into her bloodstream. “I only knew after the accident and it was already too late. The baby was…” she covers her mouth briefly as a sob escapes, “I’d already lost it.” His eyes were shining now too, but he was still just staring at her. “Please say something.” 

“Why would you tell me that?” He asks eventually, his voice as cold as it had been in years when directed towards her. Something in his eyes that she hadn’t seen since she was a new member of his team that he didn’t want, someone he didn’t want to be around. 

“What?” She replies, her voice shaking as she swallows thickly. When she’d played all of the scenarios through her head of how he’d react when she eventually told him, this wasn’t part of it. She’d prepared herself for anger that she had kept it to herself for so long, a secret that had now lasted longer than the pregnancy itself, but never that she told him. “You asked-”

“I’ve already lost enough Emily.” He scoffs, shaking his head, his teeth clenched, his jaw set in a firm line. “You just had to take something else away from me too.” 

She blows out a deep breath, his words cutting through her, sharper than they had ever been before

“Aaron,” she breathes out, putting all of her effort into keeping her voice steady, “I know you’re upset but don’t-”

“Oh you know I’m upset?” He seethes, his delicate hold on his anger finally giving way, crumbling around them like their car had weeks ago, trapping them inside the wreckage of what had once been a happy life. “I lost my son Emily. My son.” He yells at her, and for one awful moment she’s glad, glad he’s finally letting it out. Worried it would eat him from the inside out if he let it. “He was the last part I had left of Haley, the last thing that made me happy. So don’t compare that loss to something you didn’t even know existed.” 

She stares at him, the wind knocked out of her at his harsh words, and she takes a small step back from him. “I wasn’t…I wasn’t comparing it.” She says, cursing herself as her voice shakes. “I was just telling you. You’re my husband. I thought…” she drifts off, and she realises for the first time in a long time she really didn’t know what to say to him, so she stops. “I’m going to go.” 

He frowns at her, his fury dialling back a little, finally able to see clearly through the haze of it. Looking at her as if it was the first time he realised it was her standing in front of him. 

“Go where?” 

“Somewhere.” She replies, heading for the front door and grabbing her keys before she could change her mind. “I need to clear my head.” 

“Em…” he reaches out for her, his hand coming to rest on her shoulder but she flinches like he’s burned her.

“You need to let me go.” She whispers, her voice shaking, still choking on her tears, his unexpected reaction making her heart hurt. 

“Why does it sound like you’re saying goodbye?”

“I’ll come back. I don’t want you to worry. I just…can’t be here right now.” 

She’s out the door before he can say anything else, walking down the street she once imagined their children playing on.

___

Dave meets her at a cafe down the street. 

She makes it half a block from her house before she realises she can’t drive anywhere, that she’s still not been given the go-ahead by her doctors to get behind the wheel. But she also knows she wouldn’t want to. The short car ride to and from the hospital for her appointments almost too much to bear, her grip on the door fierce, her nails torn to shreds. 

He joins her at her table, sliding in across from her in the booth she’d found at the back, not wanting any more witnesses to her life falling apart. 

“Thanks for coming.” She says gently, her hands tight around the cup of tea she had ordered. “I didn’t want to be alone.”

“Anytime, Bella. You know that.” Dave replies, his hand coming to rest over hers to get her attention, sighing when he sees the strain on her face, the bags beneath her eyes. “Is it not any better?” 

She scoffs at that, at the mere idea that anything could even be a little better. Dave had become her confidant of sorts since the accident. The only other person who knew Aaron as well as she did, who could pick apart his moods and know what really laid beneath. But this had been new territory for both of them. Unknown land that had knocked them off their feet, Aaron unpredictable and mean, something he had never been before. 

“It’s worse Dave.” She answers, her lower lip shaking as she tries to hold it together. “He said some awful things today and…I don’t know what to do.” 

“You could leave, come stay with me. You know I have plenty of room.” Dave says, his answer so quick Emily is sure he must have already been prepared to say it, regardless of what she told him. 

“Dave-”

“I’m not saying divorce him, but give him some space. This isn’t good for you, Em. It’s killing you. You need to walk away.” 

She smiles sadly at him, a tear falling onto her cheek. “I can’t do that. I can’t walk away, it would break him.” 

“Emily,” Dave replies kindly, his words conflicting with his tone, “he’s already broken.” 

___

She is gone for what feels like hours. The entire time she’s not there he plays it over in his head again and again, hating himself a little more each time. 

The shock of her revelation, of what she had kept back from him for weeks, had sparked something in him, forcing everything out before he could stop it. His anger fiery and uncontrollable, destroying everything in its wake. Emily had always been his safety net. The one person he knew he could truly be himself around, and because of that she’d got burned. 

He hears the front door open, the only sound as she walks into the house, the cold air filtering in, barely discernible from the atmosphere they had found themselves living in. 

She wordlessly joins him on the couch, and he looks away from her, sitting forward so his elbows rest on his knees, his eyes fixed on the floor. 

“Sweetheart, I’m-”

“Please don’t tell me you’re sorry.” She interrupts him, her voice ragged, clear evidence she’d been crying, and it makes him feel impossibly worse. “I don’t want to forgive you yet, and I know I will the moment you say it. So please don’t.” 

He nods, his hands linking together in front of him as he plays with his wedding ring, a nervous tick he had picked up from her. 

“You flinched.” He says, his voice even, slightly cold, as if he’d been thinking about it ever since it happened. 

“What?” 

“Earlier, when I…I tried to touch you and you flinched.” 

“Oh,” she replies, clearing her throat. “Well I wasn’t in the mood to be touched by the man who told me my miscarriage meant nothing.” 

“Em-”

“I used to tell people that I loved you so much it hurt,” Emily says, cutting over him again, a wry chuckle escaping as she shakes her head, looking down at the floor to avoid his gaze, “now it really does hurt.” She sets her lips in a firm line as she tries to hold it together. Wanting to do anything other than cry, something she felt like she had been doing since she woke up in the hospital. “This hurts, Aaron. And I don’t know how to stop it.”

“I want it to stop too.” 

“Dave told me I should leave you.” She says, not missing how his body tenses, the way he holds himself a little tighter, as if he was bracing for impact. 

“Maybe you should.” He replies, still looking at the ground, determined to look anywhere but at her. “I’m not…I’m not good for you.” 

She reaches over and puts her hand in his, linking their fingers together, the metal of his wedding ring cold against her skin. 

“You’re the reason I’m still here.” She says quietly, and he finally looks up at her, tears swimming in his eyes, but he squeezes her hand back, and it feels like the tiniest of steps in the right direction. “You need to get help, Aaron.” She proclaims, no room for argument in her voice. “We both do. Otherwise we’ll lose this, us. And I don’t want that.” She places her spare hand over their joint ones. “But I will leave if you speak to me like that again.” 

“Em-”

“I’m not looking for an apology, not right now, but you just can't speak to me like that, ok?” She huffs out a humourless laugh. “It’s the closest I’ve come to hating you, and given our rocky relationship when I started at the BAU that is saying something.” 

He feels desperation rise in his chest, and he knows he’d promise her anything to keep her, that he needed her, but that his reaction was part of the problem. He had to want to be ok for himself, before he could begin to be ok for her, for their marriage. For whatever their life would look like going forward. 

“Ok.” He chokes out, nodding at her, trying and failing to muster up a smile. 

“Ok.” She replies, squeezing his hand in hers. “I love you.” She whispers, worried if she said it too loudly it would fracture the first bit of peace they’d had in weeks. That it would turn to dust in front of them, once again leaving them surrounded by nothing but destruction. 

“I love you too.” He replies just as softly, his voice serious, and she knows he means it. 

“Is it going to be enough?” She asks tentatively, her focus on their joint hands, burning the feeling into her memory in case she had to one day live without it. 

He doesn’t say anything, and she knows that's her answer. 

-x-

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[insaneoldme]

Can you rec buddie fics? Pretty please?

OMG it's my time to shine, bitches!!!

Sorry if I went a little nuts, but this fandom has some of the best writers I've ever seen. I have 186 Buddie fics bookmarked in my AO3,

I'll link here if you are interested in taking a look cause if I put them all here it would be too long. Also, I tried to show here some fics I very rarely see recced, and a little bit o the classics. This fandom has some very underrated authors, everyone in my bookmarks is worth taking a look really.

Please take a look at the warnings before reading, enjoy!!!

I Hate Accidents (Except When We Went From Friends to This) by morganofthefairies (Rated E )

Buck and Eddie had always been unconventional. Neither of them gave it much thought – they were just them. Buck and Eddie - partners, best friends, co-parents – just as entangled in each other’s lives as any actual couple in the 118.

Or, the story of how Buck and Eddie went about their relationship in entirely the wrong order.

My Heart's Been Borrowed by ElvenSorceress (Rated E)

aka the one where Taylor gives Buck his ultimate fantasy and uncovers far more than either of them expected, forcing him to confront his long held feelings for Eddie

Half Awake in Our Fake Empire by HMSLusitania (Rated E)

Buck 1.0 fathered a child and Buck 4.0 comes into custody.

Love and Bullets Both Shatter Hearts (But Only One Can Put You Back Together) (Rated E)

Agent [Redacted] Diaz is the best at what he does. Usually. But lately there's this real pain in the ass* who's been ruining his missions: Code Name "Buck."

Keep It On by R_E_R6 (Rated E)

When Eddie walks in on Buck, bent over in nothing but a hoodie, their plans for the night immediately change. Buck's outfit though? Well, Eddie requests that it stays the same...for reasons.

Heart of Flowers / Heart of Gold by ElvenSorceress (Rated T)

Buck nearly loses everything and Eddie has to follow his heart

hungry for your love by evcndiaz (Rated G)

prompt: "who’s gonna write a fanfic where chris is not cooperating with buck and eddie accidentally says “listen to your dad”?"

or; breadsticks are a metaphor for love and boning

keep your eyes on the road by iriswests (Rated M)

A glimpse into buck and eddie’s developing relationship, told through ten moments stopped at a traffic light

when things fall into place by woodchoc_magnum (Rated M)

In which Eddie asks Buck to move in with them during lockdown to help look after Christopher, which leads to certain unresolved feelings being resolved.

Carbon Date Me, Excavate Me by extasiswings, letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Rated E)

Evan "Buck" Buckley has made a name for himself as the independent bad boy of archaeology. At least, until Professor Eddie Diaz shows up with his fedora and good looks and starts beating Buck to the punch more often than not.

Buck hates his stupid six-pack covered guts.

Except for how... he might not.

Objects in the Mirror by SevenSoulmates (Rated E)

The voice had always been around, Eddie remembers it, like a stream of consciousness that babbled incoherently to the point where Eddie just tuned it out.

But then the voice started speaking directly to him. Conversing like he was a whole person standing right in front of him. Like he could see what was happening around Eddie.

Eddie shook his head. No one was talking to him, and Eddie most certainly was not talking back.

He wouldn’t talk to the boy in his head ever again. There was no boy in his head.

ripples all the way down by iriswests (Rated M)

christopher partakes in some parent trapping

dream of some epiphany by extasiswings (Rated M)

Evan Buckley is lost.

It’s happenstance that he wanders into the navy recruiting center—he’s been in San Diego for a few weeks, bartending late nights and weekends, living in a house with three other guys not because he needs the roommates but because he doesn’t want to be alone, and the military is…respectable. Stable. So Buck thinks maybe and opens the door.

Buck leaves ten minutes later with a set of printed instructions for sending his first letter, assured that he can drop it off whenever he’s ready, and a name.

Staff Sergeant Edmundo “Eddie” Diaz.

Relationship Advice from Complete Strangers Online by HMSLusitania (Rated T)

Hi, I’ve never made a Reddit post before and I’m not 100% sure what I’m doing but I need advice and can’t ask anyone in my real life. So, I [30M] have this best friend [34M]…

Leading with the Left by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Rated E)

When Buck said he was a "bartender" in "South America" what he actually meant was "stripper" in "Mexico."

And when Eddie said, "What's your problem?" what he actually meant was, "Is this about the time you gave me a lap dance?"

In other words, there's a few things the 118 doesn't know about Buck. Or Eddie. Or Buck and Eddie's relationship.

fireflies where my caution should be by littlesnowpea (Rated M)

“You never talk about your parents,” Eddie says, which is not even remotely what Buck expects Eddie to say. He frowns, tilts his head, but it isn’t a question, as evidenced by Eddie charging on. “I never asked because I figured it was your business, but the look on your face any time they’re brought up tells me you don’t get along.”

Buck swallows hard, against a lump in his throat. His parents? Eddie’s right, he never talks about them, for good reason. He opens his mouth, then closes it again, not sure what he’s even going to say.

Eddie takes it as the answer Buck is trying to make it out to be. He squeezes Buck’s wrist again, takes a deep breath, like he’s on a call with someone who’s panicking. Buck finds his breathing slowing to match Eddie’s, and Eddie nods as Buck gets it under control.

“There are people on the porch,” Eddie says, voice even. “Saying they want to meet their grandchild.”

Asked, Offered, Given, (He's) Taken by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Rated E)

People like to flirt with Buck on calls. It kind of makes Buck uncomfortable.

And that makes Eddie frustrated.

I Hit the Accelerator (But the Car was in Reverse) by extasiswings, letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Rated E)

When Buck is forced to confront the truth about his breakup with Abby, having casual sex with his hot new coworker seems like the best rebound idea.

Unfortunately, that hot new coworker turns into his best friend. But best friends can keep having sex with each other, right?

There's no way this could possibly go wrong.

Memorable by JessicaMDawn (Rated T)

Six times Buck got recognized by people he saved during the tsunami, and how his team realized he was a hero.

All Bets are Off by NobodyKnows_U (Not Rated)

Or, the five times the firefam realized Buck and Eddie were in love, and the one-time Eddie finally did something about it.

fire on fire by extasiswings (Rated T)

Or: Buck and Eddie get in the habit of sharing a bed while living together during quarantine. It's platonic until it isn't.

Better Together by Randomfandombloggs09 (Not Rated)

5 times Eddie sees Buck wearing his last name and 1 time its not just his

Daddy and Pops by EdithBlake (Rated M)

When Christopher calls Buck 'Pops' things get a bit confusing. Buck and Eddie have a talk with Christopher that ends up with both of them being even more confused by how right it sounds.

the meaning of the words you see by florenceandthemachine (Rated E)

unknown sender: Hi!

unknown sender: Just wanted to say thanks for letting me buy you a drink, and for your number. Sorry I had to run.

unknown sender: I’m Eddie by the way.

sent: hey um

sent: i don’t want 2 be this guy but

sent: i think u mayb put the wrong # in ur phone

the dream you wish will come true by woodchoc_magnum (Rated M)

In which Christopher Diaz cannot understand why his father would want to date his former teacher when Evan Buckley is right there.

vienna waits for you by mottainai (Not Rated)

Eddie doesn't deserve a soulmate.

Work Husband by hideeho (Rated T)

“What...what have you done with Buck?” Eddie is going to kill him for messing with his phone. No, that’s too extreme. He’s going to maim him. Just a little.

“Check under H,” Chim offers helpfully, shooting a look over to Hen with a smirk.

Why the hell would he be under—

Then he sees it.

Husband.

Bad Neighbors by firstdegreefangirl (Rated E)

Eddie's new neighbors are keeping him up all night. He calls on his best friend for a little taste of their own medicine.

Cross the Line by Sirencalls (Rated E)

Eddie laughs, short and quiet and almost to himself. “No. If you want to learn, then I’m gonna be the one to teach you.”

Buck is pretty sure his brain stops working. “What? Why?”

Eddie turns to look at him and steps closer, their chests only a few inches apart. “Because there are people out there who will take advantage of how naïve you are. They’ll hurt you, and I won’t.” Eddie’s eyes are so intense that Buck doesn’t have any choice but to believe him. “If you want someone to do this for you, to—to dominate you, it has to be me. I don’t trust anyone else to do it right.”

pretty in pink by dykeevans (Rated E)

Buck forgets that he and Eddie made plans to hang out until Eddie shows up and Buck's in the middle of laundry day.

His laundry day outfit consists of a small pink crop top and grey sweatpants.

Eddie loses his damn mind. Me too, though, me too.

the distance to the stars by cloudydaisies (Rated G)

“Didn’t know you were seeing someone.”

Buck just laughs. Like, honest to god giggles. Eddie is stuck fighting off doubly massive waves of butterflies and confusion, all while Buck just gazes down at him.

“That’s cute,” he hears Buck mumble, just before climbing into the truck, calling Eddie after him.

-or, everyone knows eddie is dating buck except for eddie, literally.

Something Old, Something New by dumbhuman (Rated E)

“Damn, I love weddings!” Buck’s face lit up as he closed the door.

If asked later, Eddie wouldn’t have been able to explain what came over him in that moment to make him ask the question. Or, at least, he wouldn’t have wanted to explain. The exhaustion was an easy excuse, but he knew deep down that it wasn’t a real one.

“Why don’t you come with me?”

one of the few things by thatnerdemryn (Rated G)

five times that Eddie tells someone else that Buck is Christopher's legal guardian plus one time he finally tells Buck.

I Didn't Know I Was Lonely 'Til I Saw Your Face by HMSLusitania (Rated T)

Total strangers Buck and Eddie go to couple's therapy together to get out of the therapy requirements their captains have placed on them.

things we shouldn't do by Ingu (Rated T)

“Why is everybody taking my relationship status so personally? Can’t I be fine with being single?” Buck said.

“Hey, you don’t have to say yes, be sad and alone if that’s what you want,” Josh replied. “But, I’m just saying. I’ve seen photos and this guy is volcanic levels of hot. Also, single dad, super cute kid. Saves lives for a living like you. I think you should give it a go.”

(the one where Buck and Eddie accidentally get set up on a blind date with each other, and everything snowballs from there)

Keeping It In The Family by Wolves_of_Innistrad (Rated T)

A young man shows up at the firehouse looking for Buck. Turns out Javier was a Bartender with Buck in Mexico. He’s back in LA, looking to reconnect and very flirty. Cue Eddie realizing Buck is not as straight as he thought.

kiss me (like your ex is in the room) by rebeccaofsbfarm (Rated E)

Eddie Diaz gets drunk and protective and signs up for a fake double date to get back at his friend's ex.

Leave the Light On (I'll Be Coming Home) by HMSLusitania (Rated M)

An accident on a call leaves Buck with custody of Chris after Eddie is… missing presumed.

While they navigate their new family circumstances -- and fight to stay together, despite Eddie's parents' best efforts -- a John Doe wakes up in a coma ward with no memory of his own life beyond the knowledge he has a son named Christopher and, somehow, he needs to get home

All my Buddie AO3 bookmarks

As I said this fandom has some very talented people, some of my favorite Authors's Tumblrs below, I recommend all the things they wrote and their blogs are very good.

@elvensorceress, @hmslusitania, @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels, @extasiswings

For gifs:

@arrenemris, @skylessnights (very lovely AU gifsets)

@from-nova(good gifs & content)

For Podfics: @mistmarauder everything she ever read is amazing, her podfics are high quality and she has a very lovely voice and her presence calms me down lol I recommend it

I'm sorry there are a lot more people but I'm kinda in a rush haha most of the people I follow are amazing, but the ones I mentioned here are enough to get you started or entertained for a while.

Buddie fics are amazing, this pairing has spoiled me so much, everyone I met because of it is nice and so active and talented.

Sorry mutuals if I forgot someone! 

I hope I helped Anon, have fun!

(Tell me if any link is wrong please, thanks)

[gohyuck]

1/7 of my milestone drabbles!

pairing: streetracer!mark lee x reader

genre: fluff/angst/smut

word count: 2.1k

plot request: @hansolstea​ said: streetracer au + “if you think you can beat me on the tracks, then you’re on the wrong side of the wheel”

warnings: not chronological so pay attention to timestamps, ambiguous relationship between the main characters, mild car accident, explicit sex, choking, ...cumming inside, mild overstimulation, slightly shitty aftercare due to the setting

SATURDAY 1:27 A.M.

“fucking take it.” he growls in your ear from above you, burying your face further into the pillow and readjusting your position so your hips are higher in the air. you let a gasping moan out without meaning to, and mark, almost without thinking, lands a hand against your ass in response, drawing forth a keening wail. “you think you’re all that, huh? think you’re invincible? hm? answer me.” 

“n-no, fuck, mark, i-” he speeds up his hips, pistoning into you at a breakneck pace, almost smothering you into the motel bed’s surprisingly soft pillow. it’s obvious that he doesn’t care about what you say as long as it isn’t the safe word. you already know he’ll leave you bruised and battered, aching from how hard he’s fucking you, but you also know not to expect anything else. 

mark lee is not your friend. mark lee certainly isn’t your lover. mark lee is a cocky, inflammatory bastard who has never hesitated to push your buttons in public. he brings out the worst in you, and you bring out the worst in him. 

unfortunately for everyone involved, mark’s the best fuck you’ve ever had, and you know that he’s never had as good a time sticking his dick in anyone else. 

as he pulls out, causing you to whine at the loss of contact, only to flip you over and immediately plow into you again, hard arms caging you in against the bed, you can’t help but think back to the series of events that led you here. not four hours earlier, you’d been on the ‘track’, jeno’s ford mustang right beside mark’s chevy corvette c6. everything that had happened there had led to what’s happening now. 

“fucking take it,” mark growls again, almost unaware of what he himself is saying at this point. you’d laugh at him if you weren’t drunk off of him. his words bring you back to the present, your back arching until your chest meets his. “someone has to put you in your place.”

FRIDAY 9:55 P.M.

“come to get your ass beat?” 

mark whirls around to see you leaning against your brother’s bright red mustang, a smirk adorning your features. he’s always been reactionary when it comes to you, and tonight is no different: his relaxed gaze hardens immediately as it falls on you, and his otherwise gentle smile morphs into a sneer. still, he attempts to maintain his composure, never wanting the first of you two to break. 

“you’re not even driving tonight, princess. that’s big talk for someone too scared to race against me.”

“not my fault my brother wanted a piece of you first. be grateful - you couldn’t handle going against me.” you respond with ease, pushing yourself off of the car in favor of walking towards the man you can’t stand. his shoulders tense up for a moment, only to ease up again as he rolls them back, shoving both of his hands into his black bomber jacket’s pockets.  you take a split second to appraise him, though you pray he doesn’t realize that you’re checking him out: black bomber, plain white tee, a thin checkered red flannel, ripped black skinny jeans, a dark brown belt, and a black beanie. even you can’t deny how attractive he is, no matter how badly you wish you could.

your eyes have trailed to his chest, and when you snap your head up to look at him, he’s smirking. that bastard. 

“if you think you can beat me on the tracks, then you’re on the wrong side of the wheel,” he shrugs his shoulders, very obviously presenting you with a challenge. “should be inside the car, not outside it… unless you’re afraid, princess. i’d let you off the hook if you were, of course. it would be understandable: nobody wants to lose.”

“call me princess one more fucking time-” you retort, so close to him that you can smell his cologne. 

“princess.” he draws the word out, and that’s the only mark lee you’ve ever known. the pain in your ass. he’s a good friend of jeno’s - hell, your brother even looks up to the man smirking at you right now - and gets along well with everyone you know. you’re the only exception, and you don’t know how to feel about that.

anger. arousal, maybe- no, just anger. it’s just anger, you tell yourself. before you can even sort out your own thoughts, you find yourself turning, yelling out your brother’s name. 

“i’m driving tonight,” you call out, leaving no room for argument. “me versus mark.”

jeno looks at you, then at his friend, and then back at you, mouth falling open as if to argue. as his eyes meet yours, though, he knows: bickering with you is futile. your brother tosses you the keys to his precious car, and when you meet mark’s eyes again, you’re the one smirking this time. 

“good luck,” you sneer, leaning close until you’re as in his face as you possibly could be. “princess.”

FRIDAY 11:39 P.M.

you’ve never seen him look quite this downright pissed. mark is genuinely one of the more easygoing, mild-mannered men you’ve met, only even acting ‘riled up’ whenever someone - typically hyuck or yuta - makes an inflammatory or downright jokingly flirtatious comment at him. it takes a lot for him to feel rage, and even you don’t think you evoke emotions that strong from him. he’s been insanely annoyed with you, yes, but it usually isn’t anything too far past that.

now, though? now mark fuckin’ lee has a steel grip on your left wrist as he tugs you out of the car. it isn’t too bad - the bumper is crooked, now, and one of the sideview mirrors is dangling and both taken together will cost a very unsexy couple of grands to fix without accounting for the paint - but you can hear your brother’s bemoaned wails at what you’ve done to his precious car. you’re surprised at yourself, too: you’ve never crashed before. 

you’d looked over at mark for a split second too long while going just a hair too fast, and then, suddenly, the side of your - jeno’s - car was scraping some corporate compound’s metal fence. you’d panicked to a stop upon hearing the metallic crunching noises, and had only later heard mark’s c6 screeching to a halt up ahead. he’d yelled your name, you’d thought, but you were still dazed.

that, and jeno, who’d been just ahead at the finish line, had already started screaming by then. not for you. for his car. 

“what the hell were you thinking?” mark yells, pulling you just a little too hard, causing you to stumble into his chest. “why didn’t you slow the fuck down?”

“i- shit, i didn’t realize until it was too late.” you can’t even throw the same tone of voice back in his face, too preoccupied with the realization that, had your steering been just a little off, you might be mangled in the mustang right now. 

the race had gotten cut short then, with you apologizing profusely to your brother for as long as possible afterwards. mark had stepped back, watched on as the two of you assessed the damage to jeno’s car. it was only everyone else had left and jeno’d realized that he’d have to drive home with his car in the mess that it was that mark had stepped in between you and your sibling, offering to let you stay with him for the night rather than risk you and your brother killing each other over the mustang (‘nana’, so affectionately named by jeno after his best friend).

“thank fuck,” jeno’d said, eyes practically rolling into the back of his head in exasperation. 

“fuck this,” you’d muttered under your breath, though a part of you truly is thankful for the intervention and the distraction both. mark had heard you. jeno hadn’t. 

you expect to pull up to the apartment mark shares with his friends yuta and jungwoo, but, instead, he pulls into the parking lot of a motel you know well. of course you do - you’ve rendezvoused here with him on multiple accounts before. it’s only then, as mark fixes a hard, dark gaze on you, that you realize what you’re in for. his mouth meets your skin, your hands meet his hair.

“someone,“ he murmurs into the flesh that joins your jaw and neck. “needs to teach you how to slow down. that someone, though,” a fresh hickey blooms against your skin. he pushes open his car door with the hand that isn’t gripping your shirt’s hem. “sure as hell won’t be me.”

SATURDAY 1:29 A.M.

“someone has to put you in your place.”

mark reaches up your body then, curls a hand gingerly - almost too gingerly - around your throat. he presses lightly against the sides, only enough to make you feel slightly lightheaded. he’s looking down at you directly, gaze hard, daring you to look back. you’re close but it isn’t enough - you’re on an edge, but there’s nothing else behind you, no catalyst to push you into bliss. 

his hand tightens, the other comes down to your pelvis, thumb swiping experimentally against your clit. you can’t help yourself - you tighten immediately around him, back arching slightly as both of you let out choked moans simultaneously. he swipes against your clit one more time before settling his hand against your hip, starting to rub circles into your bundle of nerves if only to feel your vice grip around his cock. you practically keen, gasping at the sheer amount of sensations your body feels. 

you’re on the edge. you’re about to fall. mark’s hips stutter against your own, and he plays with your clit even more vigorously as he cums, not bothering to pull out. he never does, anyways. the hand around your neck tightens just a bit before he lets go of your airways entirely, and the sensation of finally being able to breathe properly again does you in, your chest fully arching almost against mark’s own as you reach your own orgasm. 

it feels like an eternity until the stars are all out of your eyes, but you find yourself falling back to earth as mark finally pulls out. you’re panting, catching your breath, eyes glassy as you try and fix your gaze on him. he notices this, chuckling softly. 

mark heads to the room’s bathroom, and you hear running water for a second before he emerges with wadded up toilet paper and a wet towel. you wince, knowing he’ll use the one-ply toilet paper on you first, but also knowing that neither of you are shitty enough to leave a cum-covered hotel towel behind for the staff to find. he wipes up the mixture of yours and his cum up from between your sensitive thighs, quieting shushing you and apologizing as the scratchy toilet paper meets your still-sensitive pussy. once he’s sure it’s all cleaned up, he wipes you down with the wet towel, doing his best to soothe your skin. 

once he’s discarded the toilet paper and put the towel up, mark pulls on his boxers before gently pushing you over to get into the bed beside you. everything smells like sex, but you can’t bring yourself to be as disgusted by it as you think you should be. you move onto your side, wrapping an arm around him and throwing a leg over him, ignoring the fact that he’s like a space heater and you already feel sticky as it is. he allows his arm to wrap around your waist, pulling you even closer. 

“i’m serious, you know,” he mutters after a while, sighing as he speaks. “you need to learn how to slow down. that could’ve ended very, very badly tonight… and as much as we… have our ‘differences’ or whatever, i don’t know what i’d do without you. okay? so pay more attention when you’re driving. you’re too valuable.”

there’s no response. mark shifts so he can see you, and he realizes that you’re fast asleep, bare chest rising and falling in tandem with mark’s heartbeat. you haven’t heard a word of what he’s said. a small smile graces mark’s features. 

he lets his head fall back onto the too-flat motel pillow, finding that he, too, is suddenly very tired. his eyes slip shut, sleep pulling him in as the night goes on. he pulls you closer on reflex. you allow yourself to get pulled closer in the same way. in the morning, you’ll ask him what he means by ‘you’re too valuable’. you’ve got at least six hours ‘til then. you fall asleep with a smile on your face, mirroring mark’s own.

[kkyujikoo]

These are my... 2...? Maybe 50, cents about the whole "freejk" thing. I'm gonna be extremely petty and at some points a whole lot sarcastic and it's gonna be long but I had to say it. As soon as I get my computer I'm gonna make it under read more, but the app does whatever it wants, as we know.

Listen, this ain't my first fan rodeo, and not even the first fan rodeo where I've been directly or indirectly accused of being some sort of pervert or delulu. I've been in fandom spaces since I was a teen, I was shipping mlm couples when queerbaiting in TV shows was still something that was seen as the norm rather than some cheap disgusting trick. I was there when fanfic spaces saw "slash" fics as something "different" and to be tagged with a more mature rating even when they just looked at each other.

I was in BBC's Sherlock's fandom and I shipped Johnlock during the hiatus between S3 and S4, at this point I'm not even feeling it when people call me delulu or a weirdo.

So, yeah, take this with a grain of salt: as a person who has seen thousands of times fandom drama unfolding and has lived too much of it... This whole situation is so ridiculous it makes me laugh. Like, yeah, it's maddening how people will blame anyone and everyone because they don't even see their own bias and homophobia, granted, but like... It also makes me laugh for the sheer dumbassery of the reasoning behind it all?

Like... Y'all are getting mad and for what? Because it sure as hell isn't the invasion of privacy, since y'all are watching the same content we're all watching and you're paying to see it the same way everyone else is. If you don't want to "invade their privacy", you should just... Stop watching content that isn't their music videos, RUN episodes or interviews. Memories and any kind of dvd/video that shows what they're doing behind the scenes shouldn't be part of their job as musicians, and therefore we're intruding in their privacy... Or aren't we?

Or maybe it's more nuanced than that: maybe the content they release on dvd/on their official channels is part of their job as entertainers, and it's been approved, and it's a small window THEY are granting us.

You know what's the REAL invasion of privacy and what REALLY invalidates someone autonomy? When you, who maybe aren't even paying to see that content (which is something I understand, like, dude, I'm not covered in money either), DEMAND what kind of behind the scenes content you want when I swear ABSOLUTELY NO ONE has asked you. Once again: you don't like it? You think it's some huge invasion of privacy? Don't buy it. Don't interact with it. Convince your friends to do the same. For all I care, just go and petition to boycott this kind of content. I know you won't do it, because... That's the thing, isn't it? It's not the invasion of privacy that bothers these people.

Y'all aren't mad because we get into their business or else you would have gotten real mad when we were privy to REAL private moments like people crying their hearts out.

No, no. Y'all are mad because it's "shipping content" and "fanservice" which apparently bothers you because it lacks authenticity.

Pick a side, lovelies: either you DON'T want to invade their privacy, and thus all the content they release should be focused on what fans want to see, or you WANT to know how they interact TRULY in private.

And here's the catch: "shipping content" can be anything. Shipping existed WAAAAAYYY before the word for it was invented, same way with fanfictions. Shipping means, literally, "seeing two (or more) people interact and thinking they would make a good romantic pair". That's it. That's quite literally it. Everything else is just some nuance of the concept of shipping, but at its core, it's nearly impossible to ban all shipping content when it's a group of seven people, because they should for real go in social distancing mode to do so. Most people who have parasocial relationships tend to have "ships" whether they know it or not, because we've all, at least once, looked at a dynamic from the outside and thought "oh man they look cute together". So, even if, o dear ones, your wishes were granted... What the hell do you mean by "shipping" content? Should they just film solo clips, avoiding talking about the other members? But wouldn't that be fanservice, since it's focused on pleasing the fans? (Which, ultimately, is what fanservice MEANS, and I hate to break it to y'all but the whole concept behind entertainment and thus all the content BTS releases it's... For the fans. Like, they're not going out of their way to just meet our expectations but they're certainly doing fanservice by the mere act of releasing bonus content.)

But it's not even quite that, is it? Because no one bats an eye if it's Tae kissing Nj's cheek. I've seen no hashtag against everyone - and I mean literally every one of them - wolf whistling at Nj. It's okay to show intimacy... Because they're bandmates and it's okay to be close to someone who you see basically 24/7, I hear you. And it's also okay when people see that and gush over that closeness, because it's such a nice thing to see.

Soooooo... We've got to free JK from whom exactly? From what?

Are y'all mad cause people pointed out there's very little way a bruise that stayed for a whole ass night could be a quick bite? Because that doesn't harm jk, at most makes fun of him and jimin and their poor excuses (seriously, guys, next time consider using mosquitoes or "I was doing stuff". It'll be equally embarrassing but at least the meme will be funny), and it's literally... A fair observation. Like. It's a hickey, people are gonna make jokes about seeing a hickey and poor excuses of covering it up in the exact same way they're gonna make jokes over jimin falling out of chairs. And yeah, a hickey is AT LEAST something that happens in a sensual context. Like, I could understand "people who are extremely familiar with each other will have different body language/touch in areas where usually you wouldn't see friends touching each other", but that's not. Not a hand on the thigh. It's a hickey on the neck. I don't even know a more stereotypical placing for a hickey. But once again, are y'all mad because someone is pointing it out? Because that's not being delulu or even being a shipper, really, it's just commenting on something that was approved to be shown and discussed in something that was released BY THEM.

Are y'all mad at hybe for showing something that literally fell onto their hands? Cause like, unless someone (I'm counting on Jimin, since as we know Jungkook was busy spinning him round and round and had both his hands busy) called at hybe headquarters to say "yo bang pd substitute, is it okay if I give my friend jk here a hickey? Cause he's being really annoying rn and he has to pay", I highly doubt anyone expected Jungkook to come to rehearsal all neatly marked up. Or idk, maybe someone at hybe asked them "we need Jungkook to come in with a hickey but refuse to say it's a hickey, so that fans will feel reeeeally served." That sounds perfectly plausible too. Or a good marketing strategy.

Now, if you're a big company and your objective is to have some footage of the rehearsals for a concert, and the fandom is too good at noticing stuff for their own good, and one of your artists comes in with a very visible mark, and he and his bff bropal4lyfe come n with a story about how they were playing and a bite happened, you've got three choices: 1. Cut the artist out of aaaaalll the footage. Someone would have noticed the "bite mark" anyway, you best believe that. If you don't want anyone to notice it, you gotta cut him in most of the footage where it's visible. 2. Keep the hickey, discard the explanations. You could do that, but also it would feel a lot more unfaithful to everyone involved. Also they clearly worked their ass off to invent an explanation, come on! They truly tried to do their best inventing something that was not "it's a mosquito bite", they should get some credit! 3. Keep the bite, keep the explanation.

Notice how none of these solutions include the biting never happening because... They couldn't prevent it? The only thing they have any control over is how they're framing each "accident". And that's not an easy job.

I applaud you, people on the editing team.

So... On whom should we cast the blame now? Ah, yes, I think it's finally time for the ultimate scapegoat of this fandom: Jimin. Which is funny, cause... You know... If this were really about privacy, or being "victims" of shipping... This should be about freeing him too, you know? But obviously Jimin does it for attention, while Jungkook, poor angel that he is, doesn't even know what shipping is.

Furthermore, don't we all know how much Jimin imposes himself in Jungkook's life? To the point where he, multimillionaire man feels compelled to share a car with Jimin even if they're both late in the process. And can't you see how uncomfortable he is, draping himself over Jimin, making Jimin drap himself over him?

Oh lordy, truly such an awful eight years Jungkook spent, choosing to have vacations with someone who made him uncomfortable, spending free time with him, even having to suck his ear in public to the point you can see his saliva just because Jimin was sad :( truly an all-around bad time for Jungkook, as evidenced by alllll those times when he said Jimin was pretty, cute, and all-around knowing every little thing about Jimin. I absolutely concur, the dude would be so much more happy if jimin was not in his life.

Did that sound weird and absolutely ridiculous and a really absurd joke? Because that's what y'all sound like to me. Like. Jungkook is out there living his best life, getting hickeys and showered in affection and y'all paint him as a fucking martyr??? I'm sure he's really truly desperate that Jimin holds him in such high regards 😭😭😭 I can see him suffering whenever he starts doing his own serendipity rendition 😭😭 and when he claimed you are me, I am you as his and Jimin's only 😭😭😭 I cannot believe this poor baby 😭😭😭

I've reached a point where every time I hear this stuff I laugh because the levels of twisting reality when it comes to jikook are extraordinary, Jungkook will have a literally blissed out face and people will cry in outrage.

But coming back to my point: let's pretend you're not mad at Jimin and the possibility that jikook are dating: are y'all mad... At the hickey? Because at this point it seems like the only feasible solution. And if you are, do not worry: I'm sure Jungkook's skin was throughly healed by his boo. A kiss soothes even the worst pain, doesn't it?

[songbookff]

Next of Kin

For @toastweasel. 

There is only one person that Lin can trust: Saikhan.  LoK, season 1, missing scene. 

Or in my Kyalin Spirits Universe, this would be called “Kindred Spirits”. 

The healer left the room and made his way directly down the hall to where he had asked Assistant Chief Saikhan to wait. A petite woman had joined the metal bender, looking extremely anxious. As soon as the healer was within earshot, the woman asked, “Is she ok? How bad is it? Does she still have her bending?”

“This is Chief Beifong’s personal assistant, Tani,” said Saikhan, putting his hand on his shoulder to calm the younger woman down, although he was just as anxious to find out the answers to her questions.

“Assistant Chief,” the healer gave a small incline of his head as a greeting. “I am Healer Yan-Ting. Chief Beifong is resting now and is in stable condition. I was wondering if her family was here so I could update them.”

Tani shook her head. “No family. Just us. How severe were her injuries?”

“I’m afraid for privacy reasons, I must speak to her next of kin. She is still unconscious and cannot verbally provide permission to relay her medical status to anyone else. Even to the police, I’m afraid. Not without a warrant,” answered Healer Yan-Ting diplomatically. Saikhan let out a sigh of frustration but nodded at the healer that he understood.

At least he knew that Lin was going to survive her encounter with Amon’s people. From what Tenzin had told them, Amon had not been present and although they had both been injured, they had not lost their bending. The Avatar’s friends had gotten them out of the Sato compound alive although Lin had fallen unconscious after boarding the ship on the way to the hospital.

Tani was digging in her oversized bag now and produced a large manilla envelop. She rested it on the counter of the nurse’s station and shuffled through several pages to pull out the document she was looking for. Handing it over to the Healer, she said, “Chief Beifong’s next of kin is Assistant Chief Saikhan. Here is the paperwork with her signature. I have everything on file.”

“What?” asked Saikhan, taken aback by the statement.

Not that he had ever given much thought as to who Lin’s next of kin was listed as. Obviously, when she had first been on the force, it had been her mother. When Chief Toph left, he knew that Tenzin had been listed because he had to call him after a car accident once. Lin had been fine, but they had to alert him to drive her home. After their breakup, he had never thought about it.

But him? Why on earth would she list him?

Healer Yan-Ting glanced over the paper Tani had produced, nodded, and then began to address him. “Assistant Chief, if you could come with me, I will be happy to update you.”

As the healer motioned for Saikhan to follow him, Tani moved too, which caused Healer Yan-Ting to hesitate. Saikhan shut that down quickly. “I give permission for Tani to join us.”

This seemed to satisfy him and the three moved into a small office space down the hall. Healer Yan-Ting offered them both a chair, but only Tani accepted. She sat in a straight back wooden chair, clutching the file folder to her chest. Lin had done well finding her. Saikhan had thought she was a little too young with Lin had hired her, but Tani had risen to every occasion and was the most dependable assistant in the office.

“As I said before, Chief Beifong is in stable condition and we have chosen to leave her in the unconscious state so that her body is able to heal itself. She suffered several broken ribs and a fractured radius. Luckily, her metal armor protected her against any lacerations, but she will have severe bruising.”

“If it’s just some broken bones, why keep her unconscious?” asked Tani before Saikhan could even think of a follow up question.

“We have some concerns about a concussion and possible internal bleeding. Honestly, at this point it is just a precaution.”

“And she may try to leave if you wake her up?” Saikhan asked, half jesting. He was just relieved that Lin would recover from her encounter with the Equalists. They had work to do. So many of their metalbending force had been captured.

Healer Yan-Ting did smile at this. “There was a note in her file that she may not be cooperative.”

“Thank you, Healer.”

Six hours later, Saikhan shifted uncomfortably in a stuffed chair. He was half asleep, but it was impossible to find a position to actually get any sleep in. He needed to take Lin’s statement when she woke. And, although he would never admit it out loud, he was worried about her.

“You look like shit.”

The sound of her voice nearly startled him out of his chair. Lin’s eyes were open, but her head still laid back on the pillows. Gathering himself, he replied, “You should look in a mirror.”

She made a little humph noise and closed her eyes for a few moments. Saikhan leaned forward, his hands clasped together. “What happened, Lin?”

“I miscalculated.” The anger and guilt in her voice pierced Saikhan’s heart. There was no way she would be this honest with anyone else. He was seeing the other side of the Chief. “I need you to do something for me.”

Her eyes were open now. Saikhan stared into green. “Whatever you need, Chief.”

“You aren’t going to like it.” Lin slowly sat up, wincing as her body moved. “I’m trusting you and I need you to trust me.”

“Of course.”

“I will be turning in my letter of resignation as soon as you leave this room.” Lin held up her hand to stop him from interrupting. “They will make you Chief. I need you to accept it without question.”

There was something in her gaze, that he knew this wasn’t the Chief of Police was asking of her Assistant. Lin was asking her friend; she was asking her next of kin. There was something that she wasn’t telling him, but she had asked him to trust her. And Saikhan always trusted Lin Beifong above all others.

“If that’s what you want…”

“This next part is important, Saikhan.” Lin leaned towards him and Saikhan left his seat to attend to her bed side. “You must do as they say. You have to play along. They will make you Chief and you have to follow their rules.”

“What are you talking about?” he asked, confused. “Who is they?”

“The Council. Specifically, Tarrlock.”

“What? He’s been calling for your resignation!” exclaimed Saikhan.

Lin’s gaze held steady. “And I’m going to give it to him. Don’t trust them, Saikhan. Just do what they say. There is something bigger at play here and until I figure out what it is, you have to keep the city safe. The only way to do that is to play along. Keep my officers safe; keep yourself safe. Let me do my job.”

His first instinct was to argue. This was an outrageous plan; one he knew would end badly. Or it would all work perfectly. Lin was taking everything that had happened in the arena and to her officers to heart. Saikhan knew she felt like it was all her fault, but that wasn’t fair. No one could have foreseen any of this.

But if anyone could get them out of this mess and save the city, it was Lin Beifong. So he would do as she asked.

“Can I trust you, Saikhan?”

“Until the end, my friend.”

[moonlit-raven-haven]

The Past II

Where the reader and Harry no longer speak.

This is unedited!

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: angst, car accident, mentions of blood, hospital environment

A/N: Here’s part two! I hope you guys enjoy it :) I’ve decided to make this a mini series with maybe four parts, so stay tuned! There will be information at the very end regarding tag lists.

This series is inspire by the Instagram edit below :)

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by 𝕤𝕜𝕪 (@stylessr1) on Oct 2, 2020 at 3:19pm PDT

“Oh don’t worry ‘bout it hun, I’m just glad ya got here safely.” Y/N hears Anne’s voice comfort him as she hears wheels slowly being dragged across the floor and the closing of the door. Y/N felt frozen, unsure of what to do. Five years with no contact with the man that was speaking to his mum and sister in the living room they once used to spend hours talking in. Now they’re strangers, perhaps she was more of a stranger to him; the tabloids don’t exactly keep track of everyday people.

“I’m sure you’re hungry, there’s some leftover food in the kitchen from dinner.” Anne says, a smile evident in her voice as Y/N hears two steps of footsteps walking towards the kitchen. Her heartbeat increases more, this time the change is noticeable as she hears the uneven rhythm in her ears.

“Finish setting up the games for us Gem!” Anne calls out to her daughter as she steps into the kitchen, Harry trailing only a few steps behind her. Y/N has her back turned to the entrance of the kitchen, not finding the strength to turn around, although she knew it would be necessary eventually, but the longer she could avoid it, the slightly more at ease she felt. Her hands are gripping the edge of the sink, her knuckles white due to the pressure. She finally hears Anne’s light footsteps, followed by slightly heavier ones and a small gasp.

As Harry walked into the kitchen, looking up in the direction of the sink, where the refrigerator happens to be, he can’t help the small gasp that escapes past his lips as he sees the girl hunched over the sink, her hands gripping onto the edge of the sink as if her life depends on it. He hasn’t seen or contacted her in five years, and she never tried, having changed his number and blocked her out of his life in a slow but obvious manner. Suddenly the winter coat he’s wearing over his hoodie feels a lot warmer than usual, and his hands become clammy. The guilt is eating him up, but happiness is right next to the guilt, happiness to see that she’s okay, happiness that they’re in the same room after five years.

“Y/N?” His voice is like a sweet melody to her ears, being able to hear it more clearly she can hear the grogginess to his voice; the way it would sound every time he came home after a long flight. There’s a hint of shock, happiness, and something else she can’t quite put her finger on. And despite still feeling frozen in place, the grip she held on the sink counter loosens as she takes a deep breath and turns around, still hearing her heartbeat in her ears.

It was cheesy really, feeling like your breath is being taken away after seeing someone for the first time, or seeing them for the first time in years. But that’s what she felt in her chest, the air leaving her lungs, much like when Harry would return home and go to her house, embracing her so tightly she could no longer breathe. Y/N had seen pictures of him online and magazines, but having him in front of her didn’t compare. His face has matured more since she last saw him five years ago, stubble adorning his face, completing the medium length of his curly, chestnut hair. His legs are covered by black skinny jeans, and his feet by black Gucci boots, a signature look she had seen over the past several years in magazines. He wears a gray hoodie, a black jacket over it to keep warm in the cold weather, and her heart beat seems to quicken just a little more, it’s the jacket she had gotten him years ago, and the memory is crystal clear.

“Harry! Would you please wear a jacket?!” Her tone was serious and worried, fearing that he would get sick. They were going out for dinner at the local diner around the corner from their flat and to say it was cold out was an understatement.

“Okay mum.” Harry had rolled his eyes at her playfully, heading over to their shared closet and pulling out a gray hoodie, he pulled it over his body and headed back to the living room where Y/N was patiently waiting for him, despite her stomach growling.

“There, happy?” Harry asked her, his voice sounding like one of a snappy teenager who had to do something against their own will. Y/N shakes her head.

“It’s the coldest day of the year, and you’re wearing a hoodie that’ll barely keep you warm...you need a winter coat Harry.”

“I don’t have one.” Harry responded to her, causing Y/N to raise her eyebrow at him.

“You live in the UK and don’t own a winter coat?” She had questioned incredulously.

“Correct.”

“You’re unbelievable Styles.” Y/N had said with a shake of her head and a small laugh. They walked over to the diner, and as she suspected, Harry was shivering once they got inside, sitting next to her in the booth. It was unusual for them to do so, preferring to look at one another directly, rather than having to turn their heads when they spoke, but in that moment Harry needed to return to his normal body temperature. Y/N had hummed a soft “living in the UK without a winter coat” under her breath, causing Harry to laugh softly as their food was brought to them and they began to eat.

The day after, Harry had one final meeting with management and the boys, the one calling the official end of One Direction. So Y/N had taken it upon herself to go shopping to find a winter coat for Harry, her idiotic best friend who did not own a winter coat, plus, she hoped it would be able to boost his mood a bit. She had settled on a long black coat, simple but stylish and fitting whatever outfit he might have chosen to wear. She headed home with the coat in its own zip up bag, she could have put it in a gift bag, but she had felt it wasn’t necessary; the coat was more of a necessity rather than a gift. Harry had not come home yet, so she hung the coat on their bedroom door and then began to cook dinner.

When Harry returned to their shared flat, they had embraced, and Y/N smiled up at him, her attention temporarily away from the food on the stove.

“I got you something, it’s in the room.” She had said, the smile adorning her features made his heart beat a little faster than usual, something he had noticed but chosen to ignore, telling himself that he was excited for the item she had bought him and nothing more. He had walked over to their room, grinning from ear to ear as he unzipped the clear plastic bag and ran his fingers over the slightly rough material. Harry unsheathed the jacket from its bag and hanger, shrugging it over his body. He walked out into the living room with a smile on his face, doing a little twirl and posing with a hand on his hip once he faced her.

“How do I look?” Harry had questioned as he watched Y/N place their plates of food onto their table.

“Absolutely dashing, as usual.” Y/N had complimented as she walked over to him and fixed the collar, she gently patted it in place before looking up at him with doe eyes. He was mesmerizing to say the least, the way his hair was tied back in a messy bun, and his green eyes looked directly at her. Unconsciously they moved closer to one another, Harry’s breath fanning gently over her face.

“Thank you, love…really needed a winter coat...and a little mood booster.” Harry had said, his tone sincere, because he genuinely did appreciate her actions.

“O’course….plus you had gotten me that satchel...had to make up for it somehow…” Y/N had said with the smile that Harry had grown to love. He couldn’t deny his feelings anymore, he loved her.

He had leaned in closer to her face, but Y/N had moved away, her heart beating rapidly as she cleared her throat.

“We should probably eat before dinner gets cold.” She had said rather nervously.

“Oh right, yeah, o’course.” Harry replied, his throat was dry, and his heart had felt more heavy than it ever had.

They made their way over to their table, where they sat down and quietly ate dinner. They weren’t laughing and talking like they normally did, but instead there was a heavy silence weighing over them, and Y/N knows it’s her fault. She had wanted to kiss him, but she was unsure if she could really cross that line. Her doubts and worries had gotten the best of her. What if things didn’t work out and years of friendship went down the drain? But little did she know that would happen eventually. After that day, Harry began to keep his distance from her, it was slow, starting off with leaving the house often, to coming home late for dinner, often returning once she had gone to bed. Then he moved out, saying that their flat had gotten too cramped, which wasn’t a lie, it had gotten cramped with tension that had become unbearable. Eventually he stopped visiting her, and the calls completely stopped, and the texts had come to an abrupt halt. And then he changed his number, his address was unknown to her as he had said he wanted to keep it a surprise for when she came over the first time, but that day had never come. She had tried hard to contact him, even asking Anne and Gemma to talk to him, but it was no use. Harry had slipped from her fingers, and she couldn’t even try to get him back.

So caught up in the painful memory, Y/N didn’t realize that a tear fell down her cheek, or that Harry moved closer to her, his face full of worry as Anne left the room, saying something about the food being in the refrigerator and to heat it up.

“Hey Harry.” Y/N finally replies, wiping the stray tear off of her face, and she feels an urgency to leave, not sure if she can handle being around the man she called her best friend for so many years, the man she had loved but refused to go further than friends, afraid she would lose him.

“Um...I should really get going, especially since they’re expecting a storm.” She says, refusing to make eye contact with him as she moves past him, shrugging on her discarded coat and swinging her satchel over her shoulder.

“You kept it.” Harry states, although it sounds like more of a question as he looks at the worn down satchel hanging on the side of her body.

“You kept the coat.” Her voice falters in the slightest, but it’s enough for Harry to notice. At the mention of the coat he tenses, his mind briefly wandering to the day she bought it for him. He wants to tell her that he’s an idiot, and that he should’ve talked to her instead of running away like he did, but he can’t bring himself to do it, scared that he’ll mess things up even further.

“Um...like I said, I should really get going…” She mumbles softly, finally looking up at him and looking directly into his eyes for the first time in five years. They look their same vibrant green, but tired, perhaps from the long flight, or maybe the emotional exhaustion he surely felt the way she did in this very moment.

“You should stay...haven’t talked in awhile…I could make us some tea.” Harry offers, it was almost as if he wants to restart that tradition they had all those years ago, but Y/N shakes her head and makes her way to exit the kitchen, seeing that Anne and Gemma had begun a game already.

“Storm is starting, I should really get going…” Y/N says, her voice is no longer a whisper, but the various emotions can be heard, her eyes tearing up. The rain can be heard hitting the window, it’s soft, but she knows that in time it’ll get harder, making a dangerous ride home. She tells herself that she needs to leave for her own safety, rather than needing to be away from Harry. She had spent nights with Anne and Gemma when stoma would occur, so he excuse was lame, not thought of thoroughly.

“Please stay, love…” Harry’s voice is pleading, he wants to fix things, talk it out, explain himself and why he had acted the way he did. Y/N feels her heart ache, the dull pain gone, now replaced by the painful pang she had learned to ignore; overcome by emotion, she snaps.

“You don’t have the right to call me that anymore Harry! You left me, couldn’t even explain yourself...couldn’t even talk to me ‘bout it. I tried to contact you, but you pushed me away like I meant nothing, Harry! Absolutely nothing…” Y/N voice starts off strong, but cracks as her body shakes with emotion and tears begin to fall down her face. Harry is stunned, the guilt is now coursing through his body, realizing how badly he has hurt her. He moves closer to her, attempts to put a comforting hand on her shoulder, but she moves away from him, her eyes getting a slight red tint to them as she shakes her head.

“I need to go…” She murmurs, walking away from him, and as she walks into the living room she sees Anne and Gemma looking at her worriedly, the words Y/N had said moments before were enough for them to get a glimpse into the untold story that ended Y/N and Harry’s friendship.

“Sorry Anne and Gemma...can I get a rain check on game night?” Y/N asks with a sad smile as she walks over to the women and embraces them.

“Of course, Y/N. Are you sure you’re alright to drive? The storm seems to have finally picked up.” Anne says worriedly, and Y/N finally hears the rain pelting down against the window, and while she knows it probably isn’t safe for her to drive, especially with her heightened emotions, she refuses to stay another minute in the house where Harry would try and talk to her.

“I’ll be alright Anne. Thank you guys for dinner.” And with one final wave Y/N is out the door, gripping onto her coat and satchel as the heavy raindrops call against her clothing, becoming soaked in a matter of seconds. She runs to her car, pulling the keys out the satchel and unlocking it before climbing in, shivering at the cold clothes that now clinged to her body. She shrugs the satchel off and puts in the passenger's seat, putting her keys in the ignition and turning it on, waiting for the car to heat up before turning the heat on. She sees Harry run out of the warm house, his hair clinging onto his face as his hoodie takes on a dark gray color from the rain, it was rather really cinematic really.

“Y/N! Please!” She hears Harry shout, his voice muffled by the loud rain and comfort of her car. Y/N shakes her head and drives off, her hands gripping the steering wheel the same way she had done with the counter of the kitchen sink minutes before. Her mind is clouded with thoughts and memories, her eyes becoming heavy with tears, blurring her vision. I should pull over, compose myself. She thinks to herself, but decides against it; the quicker she got home the quicker she could break down in the comfort of her flat.

Her mind keeps wandering to the scene that played out at Anne’s house, causing the tears in her eyes to finally fall down her face, and she wants to stop crying, but she can't. Y/N’s vision becomes more blurry than before, and her mind is elsewhere, not truly focusing on the road in front of her, which is why she doesn’t notice the traffic signal she ignored, the red light now barley processing in her mind as a car crashes straight into the passenger's side of her car. The impact takes her by surprise as she’s suddenly very aware of her spinning car, and she grips the steering wheel, trying desperately to gain control of her car again, but it’s of no use as she crashes into the traffic light, the impact isn’t as hard as it should’ve been due to her breaking, but the traffic light still flickers, going black just like her vision.

-*-*-*-

Y/N’s eyes strain open, bright fluorescent lights filling her vision before adjusting, finding herself in a hospital room. She hears the steady beeping of the heart monitor and the soft click of the IV drip, oxygen being pumped into her lungs in a small steady stream.

“Hey you.” She hears a soft gruff voice next to her, the voice she recognizes as Mark’s, her boyfriend of two years.

“Hey babe.” Y/N says with a weak smile as his hand finds her, slowly bringing it up to his lips and kissing her knuckles gently.

“Was worried ‘bout you when I got the call, thankfully nothing too serious, just a sprained wrist on your other hand and a small cut to your forehead…but why didn’t you stay at Anne’s like you normally do when there’s storms?” He questions softly, concern filling his orbs as he squeezes her hand gently.

“Um...just wanted to get home…” Y/N lies to him. Despite being together for two years, Mark knew nothing of her past with Harry, or why she avoided talking about him whenever Mark would bring up some new headline about Harry and his success. As far as Mark is aware, Harry is another celebrity out of reach from their lives.

-*-*-*-

Anne received a call minutes after the accident, being one of Y/N emergency contacts. Harry was in the living room, his face between his hands as Gemma tried to comfort him while scolding him for messing up such a good friendship all those years ago. But when Anne walked in with a serious look on her face the two looked up at her worriedly.

“What happened?” Harry was the first one to speak up, removing his hands that had once been covering his face.

“It’s um...it’s Y/N...she’s been in a car accident.” Anne said quietly, and upon seeing Harry’s face become anguished, she quickly followed her statement with an urgent, “She’s okay.” And Harry’s face is washed with relief.

“We should go.” Harry says, his clothes were still drenched when he got up from his spot on the couch, leaving a wet spot from where he sat.

“You should change first hun, don’t want you getting sick, or have people recognize you.” Anne quickly chimed in before he could have walked out the door. Harry had nodded, quickly understanding the second part to her statement. He was wearing the same clothes from the airport, making it possible for someone to recognize him easier. He hums a “I’ll be right back” before disappearing upstairs with his luggage.

-*-*-*-

Upon arriving at the hospital after a rather treacherous and slow car ride, they all climb out of Anne’s car and head towards the entrance of the hospital, umbrellas in hand. They receive guest passes before making their way up to the second floor of the hospital. Harry is anxiously biting his lip, because despite not talking to Y/N for five years, he still cares deeply for her, only worsening his guilt about the whole situation.

They finally reach her room number and Anne opens the door quietly, making Y/N and Mark’s quiet moment watching television come to a halt.

“I’ll be back in a bit to give you three...four...some privacy.” Mark says to the group, planting a gentle kiss on Y/N’s forehead. He leaves the room, his brows slightly furrowed at the sight of Harry Styles in the room, visiting his girlfriend, throwing him in a loop. And as he makes his way down to the cafeteria for a coffee, the pieces slowly start to assemble in his head, the reason Y/N didn’t like to talk about the famous star, and why she probably hadn’t stayed at Anne’s house like she normally did; the two have history.

Harry closes the door gently once Mark exits the room, his face scrunching up slightly in distaste at seeing Y/N with another man who wasn’t him, even if her and Harry were never truly together, it still hurts. He recalls when he came home after his first solo tour, he was having dinner with Anne and Gemma, the topic of Y/N briefly coming up.

“Oh Y/N is so wonderful darling! It’s such a shame you two stopped talking.” Anne had commented over dinner.

“Yeah, she’s wonderful...deserve the whole world.” Harry had replied quietly, a small smile coming onto his face at the mention of the girl.

“She’s got a boyfriend now, his name is Mark...seems serious if you ask me.” Anne added as she had taken a sip of her wine. Harry had felt a pang in his chest when he heard the word boyfriend, wishing that it was him and not some other bloke. But Harry had foolishly run out of Y/N’s life.

“Does she seem happy?” Harry had asked seconds after, a hint of jealousy to his tone, a hint of jealousy that he truly had no right to have.

“Yeah...seem a bit tense there, Harry, almost jealous…” Gemma had finally chimed into the conversation. Harry had simply laughed at her comment, shaking his head as he denied the claims of jealousy, carrying their conversation elsewhere as dinner continued.

That was two years ago now, she has been with Mark for two years. Mark is the one making her happy, kissing her, taking her out, buying her gifts, making sure she’s treated properly, not Harry. He no longer has a place in her life, at least he thinks he doesn’t. So lost in his thoughts, he didn’t realize that Anne and Gemma had left the room, leaving Harry and Y/N alone. Harry clears his throat.

“Where are Gemma and my mum?” Harry asks Y/N, his voice a bit hoarse.

“Went to the cafeteria, said that we should talk…” Y/N says as she looks up at him from her position on the bed, and for the first time since entering her room, Harry looks at her, wincing at the cut on her head, part of her hair dried with blood, and her wrist wrapped in a bandage. And he can’t help the bubble of guilt within him that seems to grow more; it was his fault she was on the bed, if he had stayed quiet, she would’ve probably gotten home safely, or been willing to spend the night at Anne’s house.

“You okay, Harry?...” Y/N asks quietly, noticing his lack of words or movement, and the tears that fell down his face. She is still mad at him, but above all, she is hurt, but she still can’t stop herself from caring about him. Harry, finally noticing his tears he shakes his head and sniffles, wiping his face clean with the sleeve of his sweatshirt.

“‘M okay lo- Y/N...thank you for caring.” He says softly, quickly catching on to the mistake he almost made once again.

“I should get going…” Harry says softly. He knew Anne told Y/N that her and Harry would need to talk to fix things, but her willingness to do is what makes him head for the door.

“Harry! Wait...I reckon we really do need to talk.” Y/N calls out after him from her position on the hospital bed.

“Uh...yeah, just not right now Y/N. I really should get going…” He catches himself trying to run away again, and quickly stops himself. “When do you get discharged?” He questions, still standing by the door as he turns to face her.

“Tomorrow morning.” Y/N states with a small smile, one that almost manages to make him feel better in an instant, but he doesn’t allow himself to feel better, he deserves what he’s feeling after having been the cause of her emotional turmoil, the reason she’s in that bed.

“Dinner tomorrow? My place? 7’oclock. We could talk and catch up.” Harry proposes, fiddling with his fingers nervously.

“Dinner tomorrow, your place, 7’oclock.” Y/N repeats softly, perhaps they could try and go back to normal, be as close as they once had, as best friends. Harry hums in response, nodding his head before opening the door and gently closing it behind him, leaving Y/N with a gentle smile on her face and a heart that no longer aches as much.

-*-*-*-

A/N: I will be making a two master lists for Harry Styles content! :) One for ALL Harry Styles fics I will do in the future, and one for JUST this fic. Comment “All Harry fics” or “Just this Harry fic” if you would like to be added.