#oh god this looks worse on mobile

[kongatom]

[todaviia]

.

[viciousvales]

[save-the-villainous-cat]

“So, are you just going to stare at my pretty face all day, or…?” The villain crossed their arms in front of their chest and rolled with their eyes. It was embarrassing enough, the hero didn’t have to rub it in.

“Is that such a crime?”

The villain let out a humourless huff. Their anger was evident, their frustration obvious.

And the pain, god, sometimes the villain couldn’t even breathe. Getting out of bed was already hard enough but being forced to work under these conditions?

Of course, it could have been worse. As part of their rehabilitation, they didn't need to do much, their work wasn't even that demanding.

But with their injuries, every move seemed to be unbearable.

“Just fuck off.”

“I have some documents to sign for you. My boss insists.” The hero fished a folder out of their bag and, unfortunately, they had indeed more documents. The villain found it quite unbelievable how much they had to sign. Although they knew it wasn't clever not to read over all of the pages carefully, they were too tired to do so.

They didn't really care that much either.

“Or better known as your excuse for visiting me,” the villain joked. Their side started to hurt again, a pain so cruel and prominent that they had to remind themselves to take everything slow.

It was actual hell. Not being able to do anything. Not being able to move freely. Although the doctor had assured them they were healing and doing well, the villain felt everything but fine. It had been over three weeks now and they were still waking up in the middle of the night. Pain robbed their sleep and pain robbed their mobility. They were impatient, they were annoyed.

The interrogation room was very familiar to the villain by now. Every week, they got to meet the hero. Either documents or lectures — whatever topic the hero chose, it was always a long conversation the villain’s body couldn’t manage towards the end.

However, they never said anything. The hero's visits were better than work. They were the best part of the entire week.

“I don’t need excuses to visit you,” the hero said, winking. They pushed the document towards the villain. “Sign here.”

The villain sighed. They didn’t even look at the paper.

“Can you ask them to increase my medication again at least?” the villain asked softly. They took in a deep breath and signed the document on the last page, their pen following their shaking hand's command as quickly as possible.

"I'm sorry, you're already on the highest dose possible."

"Oh." The villain put down the pen and stared at their nemesis. Their nemesis who had captured them. Who had put them in this situation in the first place. They seemed to be recovering just fine. They seemed to be fit and healthy, seemed to be in the prime of their life. Attractive and kind - perfection had carved itself through the hero. "...do you think the people here are honest? The nurses and the doctors, I mean?"

"Some of the best people in the country are working here," the hero said. "That includes medical staff."

"Okay." The villain's voice was quiet. They didn't understand the logistics behind a place like this, they didn't understand anything about the things the hero gave them to sign. "Did you know they're experimenting on me?"

"They take samples from your tissue or blood to look at in the lab. Seriously. You're not in any danger." The hero smiled sweetly and scratched the back of their neck. "I check the reports regularly and I talk to your doctor on a daily basis. It's their priority to help you."

"Why?"

"Well, you're a victim, are you not? We don't know much about the supervillain and their powers, so helping you recover could help us get more information on them. And considering your past, we have to...observe you in a special place like this." The hero leaned over the table to get to the document. Their fingertips touched the villain's knuckles by accident. "That's only one reason, of course. Most importantly, you were beaten to death and needed help."

"It wasn't that bad."

"Half your organs were hanging out of you when I found you," the hero said. Their voice was quieter now, maybe lost in their thoughts even. "I donated a kidney for you."

"You can be so romantic," the villain said. The sarcasm didn't really come across and the villain knew how half-hearted their jokes had become. It wasn't like they weren't grateful, it was just difficult to be saved and have a life when they had accepted their outcome a while ago. That day, they had accepted that they wouldn't survive. They had made their peace with it and then the hero had saved them.

And now, the villain had to live with this horrible pain.

With the nightmares and the fear. They had become a stranger in their own body. It didn't feel like they had control over themselves anymore. Although the hero was right, they couldn't help but feel like a lab rat.

"The point is...you're the only person who has survived them and if they find out you're alive..."

"A facility like this won't hold them back," the villain said. "It would be a minor inconvenience."

"I know, that's why-" the hero held up the document "-you just signed a request for special protection. With me being your caretaker."

Again, that sweet smile spread across their face but the villain didn't really know what that meant. Their poor heart skipped a few beats.

"Are you saying you'll be staying here?" The villain's neck started to heat up. Wasn't this a bit too much? Had they asked for too much? With the medication and the doctors...wasn't this too much effort for the hero to put in?

"I am saying you're coming with me if this gets approved. Which it will."

"Like, to your house?"

"Yes, darling." The hero leaned back in their chair and took in a deep breath. "I've been working on this ever since I found you. I knew the agency wouldn't let you recover in a prison that easily. I argued that you're a victim and a source of information. That brought you here. But still, they made you work in here which I argued to be counterproductive. The law department is pretty annoyed by me."

"I...I'm not sure what to say," the villain said. Their head was reeling. Maybe everything would be a little easier. Maybe waking up would be easier. Were they actually dreaming? They could be out of here soon?

"You don't have to say anything." The hero stood up and walked up to them. Once they were closer to the villain, they sat down on the table, looking down at them. "I just need you to rest."

"You didn't have to do this," the villain said. Their voice was shaking. "You didn't have to save me again."

"I can't help it. By the way, we have matching scars, did you notice that? I can't just leave you in here."

"You suck," the villain said, but there were tears in their eyes. The relief they felt was indescribable. This place was alright. The people were alright. But they weren't the hero. They weren't comforting. With their chair, they moved closer towards them. "You're so horrible."

They leaned their head against the hero's arm, too tired and overwhelmed to hold up the weight of their head anymore. Quickly, the hero went through their hair with their fingers, holding their jaw in their hands and guiding them to lay their head on their lap.

"Oh, honey..." They played with the villain's hair and scratched their scalp softly. Their fingers went over the villain's face, carefully avoiding their bruises. "I promise I will take care of you."

They stayed like this until visiting hours were over.

[impyssadobsessions]

I don't have much time but I wanted to share this with you while I can! I can't draw but I can write and this is the only way I can share this imagery with you!

The world is passing by in a flurry of colors.

Which usually isn’t that unusual for Clark…usually though it’s because his flying of his own accord. Now…now it was because he was hurdling who knows how fast in piece of metal that was more of a mobile armory then an actual RV then it supposedly was.

There were no support handles to hold on to for just a bit of comfort, no, that was replaced by a handle that would pull down and release a fog horn sound.

So all he could do was pull his knees up to steady himself against the front console, using his size to squeeze himself into a cannonball form in hopes he didn’t get dislodged on a particular rough bump.

Then again if he did, maybe he could get propelled forward and through the front and take the engine out on his way.

Wishful thinking…at least he was doing better then Bruce.

Who was currently sprawled out on the floor of the RV looking like a disheveled cat hanging on to whatever and however he could. Maybe it would look more natural in his Batman outfit but at the moment both if them were in civilian wear and seeing the ‘Prince of Gotham’ doing an impression of a deranged starfish just added on more to today’s bizarreness.

Jack Fenton was giving him a large smile as he drove through another wall, “Don’t you guys worry! I’ll get us to our boys! No speed limit or any barrier can stop a Fenton!”

Clark could only let out a groan of despair as a response...

AMG THIS IS LOVELY LMAO!!! Bruce just imitating one of his sons to keep himself from being thrashed around.. or worse... throw up. ahhhh imagine they both slump out of the rv when they arrive, shaking and so grateful to touch the ground. Bruce is definitely calling for a private jet after this and Clark might agree to ride with him just to have a slower ride.

Danny gives them pity pats when he learns... Jon and Damian like how bad could it be. Damian thinking his father been in a space ship and Jon like we fly that fast every- Only for them to be overheard by Jack by their curiosity, so they all end up being drove back by him. Which bruce and clark like OH GOD please- which becomes a little relief when it turns out Jack drives safer with children.... still deranged but one they can handle. Damian still doesn't see what got their fathers so twisted up. Danny knows though and then asks dad how long it took them. "Regrettably 3 hours son. I was hoping it would be two." Damian frowned and done the math then asking if there was a flying feature in the... rv? "AHA! Nope, but I've been trying to convince Mads to let me install one. She said it would cost too much in gas though, and take up room for the ghost scanner." Damian does the math.. then realizes why his father and clark are shaking in the rv.. even by the tiniest of amounts. "That's my dad! :D" Danny grinning. "He's cool." Jon says innocently enough, not realizing the horror of that statement until it takes them over five hours to get home. Jack decided to play it safe and follow SOME speed limits and road signs. Jack is never allowed to drive again next time they hang out. Bruce or Clark always gets the keys =w= or has limo. ahh sorry got inspired. I LOVE this snippet ;w; !!!! <3 Thank you for writing this. <3<3<3

Link to prompt

[ddejavvu]

okay okay I'm so obsessed with this idea of grumpy gruff/hotch who's secretly the most romantic bf ever so what about hotch who's sick but powers through it at work until you show up to drop off lunch and suddenly he's the biggest baby ever??

Adore your writing, thank you for being an angel!

The team doesn't even know he's sick until you show up with a care kit. Derek's brow furrows as he spots cold medicine in your hand, flagging you down before you can rush to Aaron's office.

"Hey, Missus Hotchner!" He calls, still a tease even when confused.

"Hm?" You nod in greeting, frozen on the steps.

"What's the cough syrup for," He motions to the bottle, "You and Hotch gonna party?"

"There's sprite in the kitchen," Emily snorts.

"No," You laugh incredulously, "Aaron's sick, I'm here to bring him soup and his medicine."

With that, you're off. You take Derek's confused silence as your opportunity to leave, rushing up the stairs and shutting the door behind you. Even if they can't hear you, they watch as Hotch sets down his pen at the sight of you, and how his shoulders droop with exhaustion.

"Hi, honey." You croon, gripping his cheeks and leaning over his desk to kiss his heated forehead, "Oh, my poor baby. You ready for soup?"

"Yes please," He rasps, and if his voice is a little more pitiful than it was during the BAU's earlier meeting, you'll never know.

"Take some medicine," You hand over the bottle, "10 mL, Aaron. No skimping."

He rolls his eyes, "I only did that once."

"Yeah," You scoff, "Last night! You're not to be trusted anymore."

"There," He pours the recommended dose into the small plastic cup, showcasing his precision, "Is that good enough for you, doctor?"

"Yes," You grin, refusing to acknowledge his snark, "Drink it all, Aaron."

As an adult accustomed to a drink here and there, his face should not screw up the way it does at the taste of the cough syrup. The team sees it through the windows lining Hotch's office, and there's assorted chuckles and gasps when you guide his mouth open again, holding a bottle of water to his lips and tipping it between his lips.

"Look at that," Derek marvels, "She's babying him."

"And he's acting the part," JJ's eyebrows raise when he shuts his eyes, leaning into your palm so that you kiss his forehead once more, "Oh my god, look, she's feeding him!"

Sure enough, you crack open a container of soup and hold the spoon up to Aaron's lips for him. He doesn't even try to do it himself, keeping his eyes droopy as you spoon more and more down his throat.

They only stop looking because you nearly catch them, but it's hard to return to normal like their stoic boss isn't melting in his girlfriend's hands a few feet away.

It's later, after you've left, that they really notice the shift. Aaron's mobile again, putzing around the kitchen to make himself a third cup of coffee for the day. Reid needs a refill, too, and while he's busy stirring in his overzealous portion of sugar, he strikes up conversation with Hotch.

"You're not contagious, are you?"

Hotch side-eyes him from the counter, shaking his head slightly, "No, you'll be fine. It's just a small cold."

"You looked miserable," Reid muses, keeping his eyes on his spoon, "From the way Y/N reacted when she kissed your forehead, I assume you have, or had, a fever, and it'll only get worse if you don't rest. If I were you I'd take the day off, and make sure the fever went down before coming back."

"Thank you for the advice, Reid." Aaron's hand tightens around his coffee mug, and he doesn't seem all that grateful for it despite what he says, "I'll keep that in mind."

He strides back to his office, door shut a bit too harshly for anyone's liking.

"Sore subject," Emily snickers as Reid rejoins the group, "You should have seen the way he flushed red when you mentioned Y/N."

"He's probably texting her now," Derek elbows Reid, pointing to his office where Hotch is bent over his phone, "Whaddya think it says, pretty boy?"

"Oh! Oh, uh," Emily answers instead, steadying her voice for her famed Hotch Impression, "Honeybunches," And the team bursts into giggles, "Reid said I should rest, will you pwease come pick me up?"

"Pwease," JJ snorts, "And- and bring my blankie for the car ride home."

Thirty minutes later, you stride back into the bullpen, and when you usher Aaron out of his office and home for the day, there's a blanket draped over his shoulders.

[rogueddie]

Steve groans at the sound of his alarm, batting his hand around the side table until he hits it hard enough to shut it up. He gets up, rubbing his eyes as he moves to the bathroom on autopilot.

He's not just tired, he's exhausted. But he always is at Christmas. He struggles to get enough sleep at the best of times but, since Dustin would kill him if he's late, Christmas is the one time he has to wake up early. It's miserable, every year. The motels only add to his suffering.

As he's washing his face, he freezes. He quickly rinses his face, prodding at the skin. There's no lines, no wrinkles, no crows feet. He doesn't even have his beard. That's when he notices his hair. His hand shoots back, grabbing at the longer strands at the back of his neck.

He hasn't had his mullet for at least 30 years. Not since 1989.

Hurrying back to his room, he nearly recoils. He'd forgotten about the plaid walls and curtains. But he quickly brushes that aside, quickly looking around for anything out of the ordinary. He wishes he could just pull out his mobile, sure that Robin would-

Robin!

He darts down the stairs, to the main phone. But is immediately reminded of how bad the old phones were. He can't remember what Robins old number was and he's sure the one he does remember will be wrong. And it's not written down anywhere either.

But it starts ringing, just as he starts walking away.

"Hello?" He says, struggling to keep his voice even.

"When will you get here?" Dustin asks. "You said you'd be up by now!"

"Dustin, oh thank god, I'm so glad to hear your voice," Steve sighs, rubbing his forehead. "Something really fucking weird is going on with me, dude."

"Weird? Like... Upside Down weird?"

"What? El shut- or has... what year is it?"

"1985. Are you ok? What's going on?"

Steve laughs, high and hysterical. "Uh, well... when I went to sleep last night, it was still 2021, so... no. I'm not ok."

"Are you being serious?"

"Unfortunately. Wait, 1985... that means-"

"No! Don't tell me!" Dustin yells so loud that Steve has to pull the phone away from his ear for a moment. "You can't just tell people what's going to happen! You could change the future!"

"Good!"

"No, not good! You might be trying to make things better, but you could make them worse. Especially if you actually tell people what's going to happen. You need to be subtle."

"Subtle, right..." Steve looks towards the door, pondering. "Right... uh... I'll see you later."

"What? Steve-!"

He hangs up before Dustin can continue to scold him, hurrying up the stairs and throwing on the first clean polo and jeans he finds. His old trainers are at the bottom of the stairs, just as remembers them being- they'd lasted decades before they fell apart, even though they'd always been loose and worn enough that Steve could slide them on, even though he keeps them tied.

It takes him a while to drive to the trailer park. He takes a wrong turn, completely forgetting the way. It's been so long since he's been in Hawkins and, even then, he wasn't familiar with this route.

"Um, hi, sir," Steve says, trying to smile when faced with Eddies uncle. He's not sure if he was always so stand-off or if Eddies death did that to him. "Is- is Eddie home?"

He grunts, eyeing Steve. "Gimme a moment."

He shuts the door, but he doesn't leave Steve waiting for long.

Eddie is the one to open the door. He gently pushes Steve back from the door, gesturing for him to follow him. Steve jogs to keep up with his fast pace, too busy staring to pay attention to how tense he is.

"Alright, what do you want?" Eddie sounds annoyed. Impatient. He's glaring at Steve and crossing his arms.

He looks amazing.

"Right, sorry," Steve shakes his head. "Sorry. Uh, this... ok, there's no way I can say this without sounding insane, so I'm just gonna say it, alright?"

"... Alright?"

"Chrissy Cunningham is going to try and buy from you in March. I don't know what she asks for, but if it means you bring her back here, don't. Just- sell her some weed, whatever you can carry on you. Don't bring her back here."

"She your girlfriend, or something?"

"No. God no. I just... something bad will happen. I'm sorry, I know that's... I sound stupid. But please, please," Steve can't help but step forward, grabbing Eddies hand. "Please don't bring her back here."

"Ok, alright, I won't sell to her," Eddies eyes are a little wide. "Jesus. I'll take your word for it."

"Thank you. Thank you so much."

Eddie stares at him for a moment, raises a brow. "Is that it? You, uh, gonna let me go now, big boy?"

"Oh! Right, sorry, yeah. Um. Merry Christmas?"

"Yeah," Eddie laughs, starting to head back to the trailer. "Merry Christmas."

Dustin yells at him for an hour straight once he drives to his house. He's red in the face by the time he finishes and looks one wrong word away from hitting him. But Steves already done what he wanted to do, he won't change it now and he won't tell Dustin what he said so he can either.

But he does tell Dustin the time to start paying attention. Without Eddie to get them on the case, they won't figure out how to save Max in time. He doesn't tell Dustin anything either, just the date of Chrissys death. He wishes he could think of a way to save her, but his mind runs a blank. And Dustin won't let him ask him. And Dustin refuses to leave him alone long enough to ask anyone else.

By the time he goes to bed, he's happy to think that he's done enough. Though, like Dustin, he wonders what will happen next. If he'll stay in 1985 or wake up in the changed future. Wonders what that would mean for his past self.

He wakes up warm, comfortable, and well rested. Someone has their arms around his waist, pressed fully up behind him, light kisses trailing up his neck, along his jaw.

Steve hums, yawning. "Who's 'at?"

"Morning to you too," the person behind him snickers.

Curious, Steve turns. He freezes, eyes wide. "Eddie?"

"Who else would it be?" Eddie smirks, but that slowly drops, realization dawning on him. "You were just in the past, weren't you? Wait- shit, no, hold on, do you remember anything past that?"

"I don't- ow!" Steve squeezes his eyes shut, head throbbing. "Fuck. Ow, fucking... shit."

"What? What is it? Baby, what's wrong?"

"I don't know," Steve whines, clutching at his head. "You were dead but you- got a job at the record store?"

"Oh, ok, this is good," Eddie curls his arms around him, pulling him close. "This is good. Dustin said this might happen. It's the conflicting timelines or whatever. Your timeline catching up with the new one."

"What the fuck does that mean?"

"Honestly? I don't know. I just know that, like, you might have two sets of memories- or your original ones get forgotten, or something. But this... this is good. God, Stevie, the idea that you'd forget this current timeline..."

He tries to think of what might have changed, new memories or old ones he can't recall. It just makes his head hurt. "How long will it be until I, like... remember everything? I barely remember the 86 with you alive."

"Who knows. Weeks, maybe? Might always be confusing. But... um. I died? Was that... why you were so adamant that I didn't sell to Chrissy?"

"Yeah, it- it got you caught up in the, uh... stuff."

"The Upside Down? Yeah, I did get caught up in that. Hard not to when your town suddenly rips apart. So, what, I originally got caught up earlier?"

"Right at the start. You, uh... you died to save us."

"Now I know you're lying. I'm not one for the big hero moves, that's your job."

"Shut up," Steve snaps. He lifts his head so he can glare. "Shut up. You were a hero. You were- you are. You- you-"

"Hey," Eddie wraps him up in his arms, one hand coming up to brush through his hair. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that, Stevie, I'm really sorry. I'm ok though, yeah? You made sure of that. It's ok. I got you. I've got you. We're safe."

Steve sniffles, grimacing at the snot he leaves on Eddies top. The sight brings forth vague, distant memories- his but also... not.

"You do this a lot, huh?" Steve asks.

Eddie smiles, cupping his face, thumb brushing some tears off his cheek. "Yeah. It's not always easy, but I'm always here."

"Oh, wait... have I missed Christmas?"

"Just the day. Dustin remembered that you said 2021 so... we all wanted to wait. We're doing Christmas today."

"Really? Why?"

"Mostly because they wanted to be here, just in case. You made us promise, too."

"Just in case?"

"In case you forgot, baby. We don't know what you changed. Sandy is going to be very disappointed- she was excited to meet you again."

"Sandy?" Steve frowns, but the memory almost immediately hits him.

A baby, premature, and so small that she was barely bigger than his hands. Dustin's face, wet with tears but so proud, introducing the baby to Uncle Steve.

"Oh, Sandy," Steve whispers the name with reverence.

Eddie kisses him, almost desperately. He pulls back fast though. "Sorry, that was- fuck, Stevie. You're really remembering."

He sobs, startling Steve. "Woah, hey, Eds."

"Sorry. Fuck, we prepared so much but it... God, Steve, I don't think I'd be able to handle it if you never remembered again."

Steve presses a small, hesitant kiss to his cheek. "I don't think you'd have too much to worry about."

"Yeah, that's great," Eddie laughs. "My husband would've found me attractive even with amnesia."

"We're married?"

Eddie groans, flopping onto his back. "Of course that's what gets you excited. Time travel? Too boring for Steve Munson! Where's the adventure? But marriage?!" Eddie gasps dramatically. "Oh my, mister, that sounds mighty exciting!"

"Hey, I'm supposed to be the love of your life, stop being mean to me."

"Oh, don't go pouting at me like that, big boy. Even you should know that I have no self-restraint."

"Promise?"

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

Procedure Part 2

Part One | Masterlist | Next Part

Notes: Alright so it's gonna be three parts not two but that is IT

Also I'm posting from mobile so if the title looks janky, that's why

Length: 6.1K

Warnings: Light angst, tons of fluff, I know I said this chapter would have explicit content but I felt that I needed to shore up my narrative bridge I'm SORRY next one I promise

Summary: You hadn’t bothered with dating apps in so long, but maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea. At best, it could push you out of this mental rut and get you back into a flirty mood. At worst, it could scare you off from dating again for god knows how long. It wasn’t as if Ben had ruined you for other men. And there were plenty of fish in the sea, weren’t there?

“Is she still asleep?”

“Yeah, she’s out like a light.”

“I’m sorry,” Ben sighed. You could practically see him hunched over his desk, scrubbing his hand across his eyes.

The call to come and pick up Olivia had come at midnight. You’d only been in bed for half an hour, and you’d spent that half hour scrolling through your phone. Seeing Ben’s name pop up on your screen had been like a jumpscare, and you hadn’t hesitated to pick up.

He had sounded so disappointed and worn over the phone, half-grumbles and apologies of, “Late call,” and, “Only one on duty,” and, “I wouldn’t ask, but it’s an emergency.”

Your reassurances had fallen on deaf ears for the first round of explanations, but when you’d managed to break through to him, you’d told him that it was no problem, that you’d be over. You’d realized on the drive over that it wouldn’t be as simple as packing Olivia into the car and bringing her home. She was already asleep, and you knew from bitter, bitter experience that waking her up and shuffling her to another location would mean a sleepless night for the both of you.

Finding yourself alone in Borracho’s apartment was so strange. You’d been there dozens of times, sure, but it was usually for a couple of minutes at a time to pick Olivia up or drop her off. You were a little stunned at how neat it was, but at least he was keeping it clean for Olivia. Ben had always been so busy, and between his mess, your mess, and the baby’s mess when she was small, your home together had always felt so overcrowded with stuff in a way that was impossible to get a handle on.

You’d expected to have to neaten up, but there were just a handful of dishes in the sink and a basket of unfolded laundry.

“It’s okay, honestly,” You insisted, slouching back against the arm of his couch. “Worse comes to worse, Liv wakes up to seeing me here and we have a repeat of that time she thought she’d teleported in her sleep.”

Borracho’s chuckle made you smile. He had been in such a state when you’d arrived up, phone buzzing in his pocket and jacket in his hand as he’d rushed to get out the door.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” He added.

“All good.”

“Stay out of my fridge.”

“I can’t even have a snack?”

“You know what I mean. Don’t start expiration date hunting.”

“I feel like you saying that means that you know you have something in there that wouldn’t meet my standards.”

“Cabinet snacks only. I’m instating that rule.”

“I hear you, but with respect, I will at least grab a beer.”

“I’m gonna get back to it here.”

“Yeah, ‘course.”

“I promise I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“...Ben.”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t stress. It’s one in the morning and I have nowhere to go.”

“Not for the streets?”

“Oh my—Hang up and go solve crime shit, Magalon.”

“Alright,” He laughed. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Bye.”

“Bye.”

You pulled the phone back from your ear, shaking your head as you looked around the living room. You could watch some tv, go back to scrolling on your phone…Or do Ben’s dishes and fold his laundry to later distract from the fact that you had definitely gone through his fridge for expired food.

--

You could not remember the last time you were awoken by another person in a way that wasn’t Olivia jumping on your bed, or poking you in the cheek and asking if she could watch Paw Patrol while she had her breakfast.

The feeling of a broad, warm hand smoothing over your arm made you stir, your brow furrowing as you twisted your head toward the touch.

“C’mon, up,” Borracho murmured. “You keep sleeping like this and you’re gonna have the worst crick in your neck.”

You pulled in a deep breath, rolling onto your back and yawning widely as you squinted against the lamp light.

“Hey,” You mumbled. “You just get in?”

“Couple minutes ago. Stuck my head in to see Liv, she’s still KO’d.”

“Mm, good. Everything okay with the—” You yawned again, “The case?”

“Good enough as it can be for now. Zapata was able to come in, take over.”

“Time is it?”

“Almost three.”

“Damn,” You mumbled.

“Sorry—”

“Dude, stop apologizing,” You nudged him lightly with your knee. “It’s your job.”

“I know, but…”

You tipped your head to the side, eyes narrowing slightly as you took in his frown. “What is it?”

“This was supposed to be your night off.”

You smiled a bit at his insistence before you pushed yourself up. “We’re parents, Ben. We don’t really get nights off. Nights away, maybe. It’s alright. It’s never gonna be perfect, but this isn’t bad. I promise.”

Borracho nodded, casting a sidelong glance and smiling softly.

“Good.”

“Good,” You parroted before reaching up and pinching his cheek. “Quit frowning.” You stretched, pushing yourself up. “I’ll get out of your hair.”

“Whaddayou mean?” Borracho frowned. “You’re heading out? You have any idea what time it is?”

“Two minutes past when I asked you what time it was?”

“Just stay here. I’ll take the couch.”

“I’m not kicking you out of bed, Ben.”

“No, just grab one of my shirts and—”

“You have Olivia all day tomorrow. You need your sleep as much as I do—More, even.”

Borracho was quiet for a moment, seeming to weigh his options before he shrugged and stood.

“Alright.”

“Great. So—”

“We’ll share.”

“Goodnight—What?”

“Bed’s big enough,” He shrugged. “Go on, get ready. I’m gonna have some water and wind down—Be in in a bit.”

“...You sure?”

“I’m the reason you’re here. Let Liv be the reason you stay.” His eyes searched your face, and you fought to keep it neutral as your heart ticked up in your chest. “I will feel better knowing you’re safe and not driving right after you got up.”

“Yes, but think of how rested I—” You stopped, face pinching as you swallowed a yawn. Borracho gave a slow, unimpressed nod before tipping his head down the hall.

“Go on.”

You hesitated for a second before you took a step back, hands raised in surrender. “I know better than to argue with you when you’re in detective mode.”

You heard him huff a soft laugh as you turned, heading down the hall. You glanced back toward him, relieved to see that he’d turned away before you headed into his room. You closed the door behind yourself, flicked your light on, and for a few moments you just let yourself…Look, and smell.

The bed sheets were a set from the old place—dark grey, with mismatched grey and blue pillow cases. The scent of his deodorant and cologne, the mingle of yuzu and bergamot and wintergreen…You pushed off of the door, sighing. At least you’d done your skincare and everything at home, no need to worry about the fact that you had none of your stuff there. You rifled around in his dresser for an old shirt and a pair of his boxers, changing as hurriedly as possible on the off-chance he came in sooner than you expected.

You climbed into bed, drawing the sheets up around your chest and rolling onto your side. Was this your side of the bed? Had this been your side of the bed when the two of you were together? It must’ve been, right? Why else would you have picked it now?

You glanced back as you heard the door open slightly, offering a soft, “You’re good,” before he opened the door the rest of the way. You settled back down, resting your head on the pillow and listening to him shuffle around.

You remembered the feeling of this, but it seemed a world away now. He wasn’t slamming drawers shut, and you weren’t sighing loudly in the hope of speeding him along to get him to shut the light off. The bed dipping behind you made your stomach swoop, and you forced yourself to take a quiet, steadying breath as he shut the light off. You let your ears hone in on the hum of the AC, the odd shush of a passing car on the road.

“...You still awake?” Ben murmured.

“Yeah.”

“You did the dishes.”

“Mhm.”

“Folded my laundry, too.”

“Idle hands are the devil’s, you know. Blah blah blah.”

“Mm…You threw out my mustard, didn’t you.”

“You’re lucky that’s all I threw out.”

--

Waking up to an empty bed wasn’t anything new, and waking up in those sheets was a little unfamiliar—but opening your eyes and seeing a mahogany dresser and not your window was jarring. You drew in a deep breath as you steadied yourself, listening closely. It didn’t take long for you to catch on the soft clink of dishes down the hall, and the sound of Spongebob and your daughter’s giggling.

You pushed yourself up, taking up your phone and eyeing the time. Nearly 9—shit. Why hadn’t Ben woken you up? You swung your legs out of bed, pushing yourself up with a wide yawn. You could smell coffee, and for as much as you should just get dressed and run out, that was absolutely your first priority.

--

“There you are.”

You fought back an eye roll in favor of taking hold of the mug of coffee Ben held out to you.

“Saying ‘there are you are’ as the person who didn’t wake me up is incredibly bold of you,” You grumbled, slouching back against the counter.

“Mommy!”

“Good morning, bug,” You smiled, resting your hand on Olivia’s head as she barrelled into your side, nearly sending the coffee sloshing over the sides of the mug. “You sleep okay?”

“Uh-huh. But I had a dream aboudda bear.”

“A bear?” You gasped. “Was it really big and scary?”

“Yeah!”

“Did you get away?”

“Yeah!”

“Phew!” You sighed, pretending to swipe a bead of sweat away from your forehead. “Thank goodness.”

“Mom?"

“Yes, bug.”

“Did you sleep over here, too?”

You opened your mouth to answer, but found yourself stalling for one. “Uh…” You turned to look at Borracho, brow furrowing—only to see your expression mirrored.

“Livvy, why don’t you go get dressed,” He suggested, “We’ll get breakfast at the diner.”

“Can I get pancakes?”

“Of course.”

“With ice cream?” Olivia looked between the two of you with beseeching eyes, bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet. There was no other way to get her out of the room for the two of you to talk—not when ice cream was potentially on offer.

“One scoop,” Borracho conceded. Olivia screeched, zipping down the hall to her room.

“...Well, remember that you chose that sugar high,” You smiled.

“A sugar high that you backed us into.”

“Backed yourself into that one, pal, we could’ve thought of something else.”

“Well, you didn’t seem to be coming up with anything.”

“I haven’t had any coffee yet,” You muttered, finally raising the mug to your lips. Borracho smiled, walking a little closer.

“So, if she does ask again?”

“I came over to say good morning?”

“So we lie.”

“As if you’ve ever had a problem with that.”

It left you so immediately and so flippantly, and you felt Ben go tense beside you. You glanced toward him and found his expression closed off, eyes focused heavily on the tile of the kitchen floor.

“...I’m sorry,” You murmured, hands shifted around the mug. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“No?”

“Nn-nn. I was teasing. Shitty joke.”

You saw Borracho nod slowly, and you took a deep draw of coffee, ignore the burning splash of it in your stomach.

“Okay,” You cleared your throat as you turned, setting the mug down. “I’m gonna put my pants on and head out.”

“Could stick around.”

“I already folded your clothes and did your dishes, that’s all the free labor you’re getting out of me today.”

“I meant to get breakfast.”

You took the sight of Ben in—the slight hunch of his shoulders as he leaned against the counter, the curl of his hands around the edges of the faux-marble, and speculative, almost warm gaze that he was giving you.

“But it’s,” You nodded over your shoulder, “It’s a you and Liv day. I don’t wanna take away from your time with her.”

“You won’t.”

“Ben.”

“You don’t.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.” Ben reached out, swatting your hip. “Go get dressed—and use the mouthwash on the counter. Your breath stinks.”

“Shithead.”

“Swear jar.”

--

Breakfast should’ve been the end of it, but Olivia had insisted that she show you this really cool thing she learned how to do on the monkey bars (which turned out to be just…Knowing how to cross the monkey bars). You’d been ready to tell her that you ought to head home, but Ben had caught your eye, smiled, and given you a small nod. Maybe he really had felt bad for making you come over the night before—or maybe he just understood how badly Olivia wanted to show you her skill on the monkey bars. Whatever it was, the two of you had watched Olivia zip around the park as her sugar high kicked in, and spent nearly two hours at the park with her.

You glanced into the backseat now, smiling at her slow, hazy eyes as she peered through the window.

“I think someone’s gonna have a little rest when you get inside,” You murmured. Ben hummed as he pulled the car into a parking space behind yours.

“You got plans for the rest of the day?” He asked.

“Oh,” You sighed, stretching and squirming in your seat. “Just the usual stuff. Laundry, groceries…Got a couple of little maintenance things.”

“Anything you need help with?”

“No, I’ve got it.” You unbuckled your seatbelt, twisting in your seat to get a better look at Olivia. “I’ll see you tomorrow night, okay, hon?”

“Mmhm.”

“I love you.”

“Love you. Mwah.”

“Mwah,” You blew her an air kiss before you turned to Ben. “I’ll um—I’ll see you tomorrow, too.”

“Yeah.” For a moment, it looked like he was teeing up to say something else, but he just smiled and hit the door lock to let you out.

--

At the beginning of your separation from Borracho, when you first started dropping Olivia at his place for the weekend, you spent your time digging yourself out from under the disorder and mess. After that, you sorted out your furnishings, paired down the things in your bedroom, your kitchen. You learned to shop for two people instead of three. You clipped coupons when things were particularly tight. You got new sheets and gave Ben the old one. You repainted your bedroom. You had things to do.

And you still had things to do today, but you found that you couldn’t talk yourself into doing any of them.

Every time you started to do one task or another—halfway through loading the dishwasher, a quarter of the way through separating your laundry out, in the middle of checking the contents of your fridge for expiring or near-expired food, you wound up lost in thought.

Holding a mug just over the dishwasher. Eyeing one of Olivia’s ankle socks and one of your ankle socks as you failed to find either of their partners. Sitting criss-cross applesauce in front of the fridge and staring blankly at the drawers.

Sleeping with Ben had felt so…Good. The two of you hadn’t fucked, obviously, but you’d forgotten how nice it was to just be asleep with someone. You’d missed it a long time ago, sure—when you’d started sleeping alone, you used to build a wall of pillows up behind yourself, just to feel cradled. It hadn’t been the same, and after a while, you hadn’t really needed it anymore. But you’d roused a couple of times last night—not fully, just awake enough to note your surroundings and drop back off—but Ben had been holding you. His body had been pressed so firmly against yours, his rough cheek against your neck, one arm wrapped around your waist and the other stretched out under your head. Maybe it was his little shifts that had woken you up—the little flex and loosening of his fingers around your shirt, or his nuzzle and sigh as he likely dropped in and out of sleep himself.

How long had it been since he’d been asleep with someone? You’d heard about dates, but you hadn’t heard about girlfriends. Had he had any? Did he curl up with them like that? Did they do his dishes, fold his laundry? Go through his fridge?

Well, they at least hadn’t done that last one—if they had, you wouldn’t have found that mustard.

You shook yourself from the thought, leaning back from the fridge with a grumble of, “No. No.” You weren’t going to torture yourself thinking about one freak occurrance—Damn, your knees really were really that loud, no wonder Ben had heard them a couple of weeks ago.

You shut the fridge, reaching into your pocket for your phone. You hadn’t bothered with dating apps in so long, but maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea. At best, it could push you out of this mental rut and get you back into a flirty mood. At worst, it could scare you off from dating again for god knows how long. It wasn’t as if Ben had ruined you for other men. And there were plenty of fish in the sea, weren’t there?

--

“Welcome to the Great Pacific Garbage Patch.”

Alyssa looked just a little too gleeful for your liking as she said so, swiping through your Hinge matches. You scoffed, turning to watch the kids attempt to field ground balls. They were all failing spectacularly, and adorably.

“It’s not that bad,” You grumbled. And it was true, it wasn’t that bad—it was so much worse. You’d been on the apps for precisely three weeks, and so far you’d had 10 conversations. Half of those had been dead-end ‘hi’s, three of them called you a MILF, and two had just opened with, feet pics?

You had held off telling anyone that you’d signed up for the apps, but you’d needed to commiserate with someone, and you knew that Alyssa had recently braved the exact same horrors.

“It’s not that good, though—6’4, so—”

“Probably 5’9.”

“You okay with that?”

“I mean,” You shrugged, “That’s Ben’s height, so whatever.”

“Mm…This one isn’t holding any fish…But I also can’t tell which one he is, it’s all group pictures.”

“Swipe left.”

“On it.”

“When’s the last time you went on a date-date? I mean not just, like, coffee or drinks, like something that felt substantial?”

“Pfft, shit girl, I don’t know,” Alyssa shook her head. “It’s been a while…Actually might’ve been Gus.”

Damn. Your last real date had been Ben. You perked up as Olivia bent down to scoop a ball up—and missed it entirely.

“I’m starting to think all of the kids should get their eyes checked,” You muttered.

“So should this guy,” Alyssa tipped your phone toward you. “Jeff, 42. 'No fatties, baby mamas, no gold diggers.’ As if this slob has any gold to dig.”

“Please swipe left on Jeff.”

“Bye-bye Jeff—oh shit, wrong way—Oh, you matched!”

“What!” You screeched, taking the phone out of her hand and hurriedly opening the conversation, fumbling with the controls, “Oh shit, shit shit, he’s already typing—Shut up!” You nudged Alyssa as she tipped her head back with laughter. “You are banned from swiping duty.”

“It was one—One mistake—”

“Heck no. You can’t be trusted.”

“The hell are you two witches cackling about over here?”

You glanced up as Henderson neared, eyeing your phone.

“Mind your own business,” Alyssa nodded back toward the field. “Isn’t there something else you should be doing?”

“You’re making a racket and distracting the kids.”

“Oh please—”

“We’ll keep a lid on it, Gus. Sorry,” You offered.

“Thank you—You see how easy that was?” He asked, pointing toward you.

“Go mind someone who needs minding,” Alyssa scowled. Henderson shook his head, turning to head back toward the kids. You looked down at your phone, eyeing the next profile.

“...I think he saw your phone,” She muttered.

“Hm?”

“Just saying.”

“So what?”

“Long as it doesn’t matter to Ben, either.”

“It wouldn’t.”

“You sure about that?”

You frowned at the insinuation before you looked back toward the field. You saw Ben looking toward the two of you as Henderson leaned into him, speaking into his ear.

“...Yeah,” You shrugged, forcing your focus back on your phone. “He dates, I’ve been…Out with people. We’re adults.”

“Mhm.”

“Alyssa.”

“No, sure! Sure.”

--

The sight of Borracho’s name popping up on your phone was as unexpected as it had been last time, and you were practically out of your bed before you answered. You’d had a few uninterrupted Fridays, but you’d sort of wondered when he’d wind up needing to call you again.

“Hey,” You answered. “Give me five minutes to get dressed, I can be over there—”

“You don’t—That’s not why I called.”

You frowned, stilling in front of your dresser. “Oh…Kay? Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine.”

You tentatively lowered yourself to sit on your bed again, brow furrowing.

“So you called because…?”

“I thought we could talk.”

“About what?”

“Anything?” And then he seemed to think of a better response, hurrying to add, “I just feel like we haven’t spoken much outside of pick-up and drop-off, since we didn’t really, um—We didn’t get the chance to talk after practice yesterday.”

That was true—a thunderstorm had moved in, cutting practice short and sending everyone scrambling for their cars.

“I guess not,” You scooched back. “How are you?”

“M’alright.”

“Yeah?"

“Yeah.”

“Work?”

“It’s uh—” He drew in a long breath, exhaling, “You know. It’s how it is.”

"Really painting a picture for me, detective.”

“What about you?”

“It’s good, work’s fine.”

“Good.”

It was clear from the silence that ensued that you each expected the other to go on, but for a moment, neither of you spoke.

You offered, “So—” as he said, “Listen—” And then each when quiet again, soft chuckles huffed out on either side of the phone.

“Sorry, go ahead,” You offered.

“I was just…I don’t want you to get annoyed.”

“Did something else in your fridge expire?”

“No.”

“Not sure I believe you.”

“You owe me a new mustard, by the way.”

“Deduct it from the monthly.”

“I will.”

“What were you gonna say that you thought was gonna piss me off?”

“If you start—I mean you never know what it’s gonna be like with someone in person, you know?”

And no, you didn’t know, but Borracho pushed on before you could ask him to clarify: “I can just be around, or have one of the guys come get you—”

“Ben.”

“—Or run a background check, ‘cause—I mean there are whackos out there.”

“I know, I’m speaking to one right now.”

“What’s the name on the profile?”

“I meant you, doofus—Henderson told you?”

A guilty pause, chased by a muttered, “He mentioned it.”

“Oh, my god.”

“I’m just saying—”

“I’m hanging up.”

“No no no, hang on. Wait.”

You listened as he shifted in his seat on the other end of the phone, and suddenly you were so immeasurably glad that this wasn’t a conversation you were having in person. Of all things, you could never successfully hide your embarrassment from Ben—your lip-gnawing, hand-wringing, the way you scrubbed your sweating palm across your heated cheek and did your best to look anywhere but his face. But what did he look like now?

Was he rolling your eyes at your perceived overreaction, or did he have that sweet, contemplative look that he got when he was trying to figure you out, that little pinch between his brow and puckered purse to his lips? Was he on his couch? In his kitchen? Was he calling you as he laying down on his grey sheets, his head on a mismatched pillowcase?

Any and all prospects made you squirm as you stared at the storage bin at the end of your bed, wishing that there was a way to crawl out of yourself and fold up inside, surrounded by clean sets of sheets and extra towels and old pairs of pantyhose that you would probably never wear again, but couldn’t bring yourself to throw out.

“I’m not trying to be a dick, alright? I just…I wanna know that whoever’s around you is a good person.”

“I wouldn’t bring a bad person around Olivia.”

“I know that, but right now, I’m not talking about Olivia—Not just about Olivia. You should have someone good…You deserve someone good.”

Your heart sank into your stomach as his tone softened and quieted. For a moment, you wondered if Borracho was thinking of crawling out of himself and curling up in a storage bin, too.

“I’ve had good people. I know what they’re like. Hell, I married one. Had a kid with him, too.”

“This a relationship you never told me about?”

“Stop that,” You chided softly. “You’re a good man, Ben. You know that.”

“...Yeah.” It was a gritty and flat reply, and you were almost certain that he didn’t believe it himself, that he just wanted you off his back.

“Anyway,” You pushed on, “I will keep your offers in mind. Might even take you up on them.”

“Good.”

“And you’re always welcome to ask me to fake an emergency if you’re ever on a bad date, you know.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Sure. Make me sound like a real nightmare. You wouldn’t have to try all that hard.”

“It’d be a tougher sell than you think.”

You smiled, sliding down against your pillows.

“It’s very sweet of you to lie, Magalon.”

“‘M not lying.”

“If you say so.”

“Scout’s honor.”

“You were never in the Scouts…And it’s sweet of you to worry.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Now he was rolling his eyes, you were certain. You smiled, closing your eyes and resting your head back against the pillows.

“What did you and Liv get up to tonight?”

“Devon and Henderson came over for pizza.”

“I’m assuming that’s when he mentioned the—Right?”

“Pleading the fifth.”

“Oh, please.”

“I do not recall.”

“No, sure.”

“What’d you get up to?”

“Oh—Went to Home Depot. I’m thinking of redoing the bathroom—Alone,” You tacked on hurriedly.

“You sure that’s a good idea?”

“I can handle it.”

“I’ve seen your Pinterest boards and the shit you like on Instagram and I don’t think you can.”

“That is so rude. And stop creeping my social media.”

“I’m not creeping.”

“Really.”

“I’m just gonna politely ask that you forgo any use of shiplap.”

“How the fuck do you know what shiplap is?”

“You weren’t the only one in that apartment when you had HGTV on.”

“I thought you weren’t paying attention.”

“I tried not to, but after a while it’s impossible to block out.”

--

It wasn’t every Friday per se, but every other week or so, one of you would call the other.

It was supposed to be the exception to the rule, those late-night calls—the ones that had everything to do with the two of you, and not nearly as much to do with Olivia. You felt a little guilty for that, sometimes. For so long, she was the only reason that you had the lines of communication open with Borracho. But when you called one another, both knowing that Livvy is asleep, there wasn’t even a hint of pretense that you may be calling to talk about her.

Borracho still teased you, still prodded at the open wound of your attempt to get back into dating. And you did go on a couple of dates, but none of them felt right. The guys had been nice, polite, but…But things hadn’t flowed. It wasn’t that you hadn’t felt a spark—you’d given up on that hope and notion a long time ago.

But for every awkward pause, your mind piped up in the most unhelpful way: Ben would know what to say right now.

--

“I’m not going to lie, I’m…A little surprised that you suggested this.”

Truth be told, you were a little surprised, too. The first couple of months of the new schedule with Borracho had been a godsend at first. You had more time to run errands, clean up around the house, spend some time with friends, and just have some you time. But…On some Fridays, you just didn’t know what to do with yourself. Your friends weren’t always free to hang out, and sometimes you missed having another heartbeat around the house.

Asking Jessa to hang out had been a snap, last-minute decision. You weren’t regretting it…Yet. She’d recommended a bar that you’d never heard of, with cocktail names that were frankly a little bit embarrassing to request—but they were tasty, and just the perfect kind of strong.

“I’m glad you did, though!” Jessa hurried to add. “Honestly, since the divorce, I haven’t gotten out all that much.”

You nodded, folding your arms on the table. “I know the feeling. After Ben and I split, I spent all of my time home with Liv. I was trying to fix everything, like patching holes in a sinking ship.”

“Ugh, I know exactly what you mean.”

You watched as Jessa shifted in her seat, toying with her straw.

“Can I ask…I mean—” She cleared her throat. “I’m going to say something and I really hope that it’s—”

“Sure, you can ask him out.”

Jessa’s lips parted in surprise, and you couldn’t help but smile. She huffed a stunned laugh, her hands coming up to try and shade some of her embarrassment.

“Oh my god!”

“It’s alright.”

“Was I that obvious?”

“A little. So, you gonna do it?”

“I’ve been thinking about it?” Jessa’s nerves were plain on her face, her fingers swirling the straw so quickly that you were a little worried some of it would spill over the sides. “I mean, he’s very nice, and he’s sweet…And hot. Sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

You couldn’t argue with her on any of those points. And to your surprise, it wasn’t eating you up the way that the thought had a couple of months ago. At least…The welling of petty jealousy that had reared its ugly head when you first saw Jessa squeezing his arm at practice felt a little more quiet now. Maybe you were more settled than you’d thought you had been on the idea. Maybe all you had needed was a little more time to yourself.

But that wouldn’t explain the little nagging pit in your stomach that told you this still didn’t feel right.

--

You could warn him, right? You could just let him know what was coming. Jessa had your blessing, but you could just warn Borracho that she was going to ask him out…Couldn’t you?

You stared down at your phone, blinking a little blearily. You’d had one more drink than you should’ve—your head had been spinning in the back of your Uber on the way home. You’d already texted Jessa to let her know that you’d gotten in alright, and to thank her for hanging out. But your finger hovered over the phone icon beside Ben’s name.

It would be normal to call him. Right to, even. You’d been calling one another so regularly that it would be weird if you didn’t call him. So—

Chicken fingers first, actually. Put the phone down. You could make chicken fingers and fries in the air fryer. Put those in to cook and just have to quick call with him while those—No, you would want to eat them as soon as they were done. Okay. Put the phone down and put the food in the air fryer. Have some water while you wait for it to be ready. Eat, then call Ben.

That was a good plan. That was the best plan you’d had all day.

--

You knew halfway through your second chicken finger that you weren’t going to call him.

The resignation of it sat steadily with you as you watched the Dodgers blow their lead, sending the game into extra innings.

What if Jessa changed her mind and decided not to ask him out? Then he’d just be waiting for a shoe that was never going to drop all because of your big mouth. No. You weren’t going to call Ben—not tonight, anyway.

You polished off your food, had a liquid IV, went to bed, and woke up with a mild hangover and no regrets.

--

“Oh boy,” You chuckled, leaning back against your car and folding your arms across your chest. “Someone looks all tuckered out.”

Olivia just grumbled as she slouched past you, sliding into the backseat of the car. You peered inside, watching her tip her head back against the seat, closing her eyes.

“I’m getting the feeling that bedtime wasn’t strictly mandated last night,” You added, turning to watch Borracho amble toward you.

Damnit, but he looked good. He was still a little sleep-ruffled himself, hair mussed. He let out a similar grunt as he scrubbed the heel of his palm against one of his eyes.

“We may have stayed up to finish watching the Dodgers.”

All the better that you hadn’t called him.

“You mean the game that went into extra innings and didn’t end until 12:30?” You asked.

“Acting real high and mighty for someone who clearly also stayed up to watch it.”

“Well, I can handle my sleep deprivation.” You tipped your head to the side as he stopped in front of you. “Long week?”

“Little bit.”

“Mm.” You reached out, righting the flipped collar of his shirt. You felt the weight of his gaze as you smoothed it before folding your arms again. You expected a goad, a question from him, but you got…Nothing. You met his eye and your breath caught in your throat. There was a blend of concern and loving care that he hadn’t regarded you with in a long time. You frowned, shaking your head a little.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m gonna—” His eyes darted to the open backseat door before he pushed it closed. “I’m have something to tell you, and I’m not sure how you’re gonna feel about it.”

“Okay?”

What the hell could it be that he was so worked up about? Had someone died? Was he being transferred to another department, another sheriff’s office? You didn’t want to uproot Olivia from her entire life, but you didn’t want to cut Borracho’s access off to her, either—

“I’m gonna go out with Jessa.”

Your mouth worked wordlessly before you managed: “That’s it?”

Borracho’s concern washed with confusion, his expression twisting.

“What do you mean, ‘that’s it’?’”

“Dude!” You reached out, whacking him in the arm. “You scared the crap out of me!”

“Ow!”

“Oh please, that did not hurt.”

“Well—” Borracho reached out, pinching your bicep sharply.

“Hey!” You shrieked, batting his hand away.

“What do you mean ‘that’s it’?’”

“I thought you were going to tell me you were being transferred or something! God,” You sighed, leaning against the car. “When’d you guys talk?”

“Last night. Just texting.”

Even better that you hadn’t tried and call.

“You said yes?”

“I’m gonna.”

"You haven't yet?”

“Because—” He glanced toward the back of the car again. “You two seemed to be getting along. Wanted to make sure it was cool.”

You melted a little, nodding.You patted his shoulder before getting into the driver’s seat, glancing back toward Olivia and lowering her window when Borracho knocked on it.

“I’ll see you at the game tomorrow hon.”

Olivia nodded, snuggling back in her seat as she mumbled, “Love you.”

“I love you, too.”

It was a surprise to see Borracho knock on the passenger window, rolling it down just enough for him to lean in.

“You’re sure you’re good with this?” He asked. You smiled, nodding.

“I gave her the green light. I don’t mind giving it to you, too, Ben.”

For all of his training, his skill, he was unable to hide his surprise from you. It took him a moment before he leaned away, patting the side of the car. You caught sight of him waving to Olivia one more time as you pulled away from the curb, and did your best to ignore the unwavering sight of him in your rearview until you rounded the corner.

---

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[missmarveledsblog]

Flumpy part 2 ( jake seresin x reader)

SUMMARY : Y/N is settling well in miramar , even more so with the dagger squad bar one although after hearing a potential date taking shit  jake rushed to defend her while y/n rushes out the door  only to head into a worse state which bids the question is it too late .  

warning : this is an angsty chapter  mentions of character death as well as some violence and our girl gets into an accident , the some violence is only in defence  though and its fictional so let keep our hands to ourselves but also jake hitting someone for us 🥵🔥 

@harrysgothicbitch as promised 😎🖤

@djs8891 😊

First official day wasn't so nerve wrecking giving she spent her weekend with her new could she call them coworkers . She liked how got along with them well nearly all of them one she really couldn't stand one of them . hangman , at first she was going to tease him for the flumpy comment it wasn't that deep til she heard him talking at the food table on the beach and well that just killed any sort of base for a friendship . throwing on her overalls and her hair in a ponytail as grabbing her helmet she and set on her way not wanting to be late for her first official day . only to see a bronco parked outside her driveway .

" i got my ride roo or did daddy dearest send you" she batted her lashes only to see a blonde head of hair in the passenger seat. " well roo my dear boy get out of my dad's ass and follow me" she laughed lifting the garage door .

" i tell him same thing darling doesn't listen" jake flashed her a dazzling smiles only for her to not even pay attention .

" i got you a coffee" rooster offered .

" we got you a coffee" jake yelled .

" i'll grab it when we get there" she laughed closing the garage and driving off on the bike.

" why are you in my car again thought your truck was way better than my... then my what did you call it flintstone mobile" rooster walked to the driver side .

" i thought i'd give the flintstone mobile a go you know i'm doing this whole don't judge a book by it's cover" he smirked. " i judged it right this time" he added looking around missing his baby.

" you wanted to try get on y/n good side , bagman that woman will chew you up and spit you out before you even know it" .

" no woman could do that and you know it" jake scoffed.

" you taking a ride to base with me and getting her coffee" .

" yeah because i like being liked" .

" oh bagman you met your match" rooster chuckled as two set off .

She pulled up in the car park taking the helmet off her head , fixing her hair as phoenix walked up to her.

" you ride a motorcycle god can you get any hotter" .

" wanna be my backpack" she winked . " i don't know what that mean but i will" the woman laughed .

" well i'll explain it at lunch lets see if any more repairs are needed plus the hornet which i can tell is roo's well i need to look it over as well as the one behind it which i know is seresins" .

" please don't kill bagman i need you around" nat fake pouted.

" even if he's a dick well i can be professional at work plus i don't look good in orange" she sighed sadly.

" hey kid thought rooster was giving you a lift you know it being your first day...." .

" or you trying to get me not to ride my baby which is ironic cause who got me into them?" she arched her brow.

" yeah well you didn't join the navy" he countered thinking he was getting somewhere .

" whats my degree" she smirked. " thought so old man now stop your sexism is showing and not good in this day and age" .

" it's not sexism" he scoffed .

" so if rooster wanted to drive the bike you would be same right" she asked.

" of course not you know why i don't want you on it" he looked at her pointedly .

" well if that's the case then you can't fly in planes ,check mate mister , where are the locker rooms" she turned to nat who was standing slightly awkward at the exchange.

" this way you need to get your keys at the front first" .

" well discuss it later young lady" he called after them. " in your dreams old man" .

" hey shit guys wait up" rooster ran after trying to avoid looking Mav in the eyes after hearing some of their discussion .

" what was that about" jake asked.

" probably one of the worse time in our lives and not my story tell hangman" .

First day was done then the first week then the first month it went by in a flash . she found she really like the dagger squad could understand her father and rooster could like them , she liked wednesdays because her and fanboy played video games after work or working out with javy on thursday , tuesday she help payback with cooking so he could wow his wife and sunday were girls day with halo and phoenix saturdays were beach days and due to rent issue most nights where spent with bradley her new roommate also saturdays the torture before the beach a hike with rooster and hangman although they still weren't on speaking term hell she pretended he didn't exist and unless it was work related she didn't acknowledge him at all and it was driving jake seresin beyond mad . He watched how she would be with the squad , the smiles and affection that he secretly yearned for , the laugh of hers that drove him crazy .

he stopped with even taking girls home because last couple of times he did they left mad as bulls when he realised that he called them y/n . one woman who turned up and derailed his life and now he was stuck like a lovestruck wimp with a girl that wanted nothing to do with him and that was all completely new. But he never showed that , no he would put on the same old charm or pull her pigtails like they were kids on the playground . He would say something ,first she would well ignore him but he kept saying things til he eventually would get a response with even though wasn't good it was better then ignoring him .

" well if it ain't my favourite little handy woman" he called as she was taking inventory of what parts would be needed already done with the day.

" what can i do for you" she eyes checking over each tray.

" jet making weird noise again , starting to think you aren't looking after my jet properly darling" .

" oh bite me i take care of it like i do all the jets you just aren't careful with the flying machine all action and no finesse" she shot back tying the top part of her overalls around her waist knowing there was nothing damn wrong with the jet this was just one hangman's ways of torturing her .

" where is the location of the weird noise or is it you brain trying to work" she asked climbing up the ladder ready check over the engine and to see it was in tip top shape.

" my dear you wound me so i heard it promise cross my heart"he winked making her bite her tongue not wanting to sink to his level . she checked it over knowing she wasn't going find anything wrong with the jet , she check it only a couple of days ago when he said same thing . she check the wheel well only to see what exactly was the problem and one that hated her job .

" problem here is you got a dead bird in here and it's not my job to clean that out have fun"she smiled happily leaving him speechless looking up as feather fell out floated to the ground .

"hey y/n you got a minute" bob called out.

" course i do" she skipped as jake wished he ignore the weird sound . she as well as the other squad members watched as hangman began clearing the jet watching as the carcass felled down onto the ground as he gagged loudly . " least there will be no more weird noise huh bagman" she cackled.

He may of washed himself three or four times after the whole bird incident wanting to make sure he got the reminisce of it off his skin even though it didn't touch his skin knowing . he probably should of got a recruit to do it but nope he done it all himself. In his cleaning he didn't noticed the door open or the pitter patter of the sounds of feet on the cold tiled floors . it was when the sound of the shower and humming started , he knew who knew it was wondering why the hell she was using the base showers . " princess is lowering herself to using the peasant bathrooms huh" he called making the humming stop completely.

" peasant bathrooms really also i thought you were gone" she sighed .

" nope still getting bird off of me".

" well i need to get the grease and oil off me i meeting up with a friend after work" she almost sang.

" yeah i know we're all meeting at hard deck later" he rolled his eyes .

" different kind of friend but enjoy" he could almost hear the smile in her voice which annoyed him but another feeling was rising one he's never had when it came to women , almost new as turned the shower off leaving promptly . what was it about this one that had him so well fucked .

" yeah i got her to agree to go on date with me" the voice laughed .

" man you are one lucky son of a bitch" . it was like the world was against him now having to listen so prick to brag about getting the girl, getting his girl .

" yeah all i had to do was pretend to like the shit she did and boom eating out the palm of my hand , i don't know whether to hit it and quit it or do i carry it on i mean her dad's maverick so maybe i can get something out of" the sniffling little shit was about to say more but the rage that built up as he spoke well he didn't get a chance to speak when he found himself slammed against the wall with a seething hangman staring at him .

" woah hangman let him go" rooster rushed up .

" little prick you think you can use her" he growled pushing the man harder.

" wait what you talking about man" the mans voice shook .

" i heard it all hit and quit or use her for her daddy now we both know she too smart to fall for that , she probably didn't even fall for your crap , she probably felt bad for you but that still doesn't mean i shouldn't beat you into these tiles right here" .

" because he's not worth it just let him go jake" her voice sounded so broken behind him yet he did, he let the man go even though he wanted to beat the shit out of him .

" leave now while you have teeth"rooster snapped as they ran out of there .

" pretty girl?" rooster said but she quickly rushed off to get dressed and leave the base before they could get to her she was driving off clearly upset .

She felt stupid , she thought he actually liked her , she couldn't believe she felt for his shit . " idiot you fell for the easiest line in the book because ugh" she grumbled to herself feeling the tears start to build . " great now i crying" she laughed although muffled through her helmet .

checking around only seeing one car she nodded to pull over and he waved indicating for her to go ahead . she moved almost there and then she wasn't it was all so fast she was almost there. She was catapulted off the bike at first is was all in slow motion like time was moving at snail pace then the impact she hit the ground hard setting time back into motion . she could hear her bike scrapping along the gravel as well as her skin where her suit was ripped open . everything hurt no hurt was probably too minor to describe it , everything burned intensely as she looked up through the now cracked visor of her helmet and yet she couldn't move it was like something was holding her down in place.

" miss can you hear me , she not responding" a voice called . " she still breathing although it looks like she struggling , no i didn't touch her , she bleeding bad" the voice frantically called like he was talking to someone she couldn't hear.

" he just came out of no where at full speed , hit her off the bike please are they close ". she felt warm liquid coating her skin and burning was starting to dull . " yeah there's a visor on her helmet there i got it off , miss can you hear me , her eyes are open" . " her eyes are closing miss stay with me , god he came out of nowhere please hurry miss,miss" was the last thing she heard before it went quiet and everything went black.

They stood quiet , standing their usual spot waiting for a text or call she was ok .

" she isn't at home i checked already" rooster sighed something in his gut told him something bad was going on same one he got the day his dad died or when his mom got her diagnosis.

" maybe she needs time" nat said softly although she was itching to go out and look for her .

" she needs her friend and i've a bad feeling" rooster began pacing . Jake seresin well he was quiet , almost too quiet as he replayed it all from her face to the fact she called him jake . usually it wouldn't of meant so much if it wasn't her. She never used his name not even his surname it was always bagman or hangman maybe even cowboy but never jake.

" fuck it i'm going looking for her" rooster snapped the man from his own thought and instantly he was on his feet.

" i'll come with you" was all he said. Usually rooster would tease him , taunt that they would be using the bronco but no for some reason the look on jake seresins face was reason enough to keep it quiet and all he did was nod . they all walked out , standing talking about who was going with who til they heard it .

" fucking bitch had to be there man i was so close could of been balls deep now and buttering up captain mitchell " that pricks voice from across the car park . Not a second thought or the voice of reason from his friends to ignore it cause he saw red , full blown rage that had him barrelling across and punching the man square in the jaw . it was almost satisfying when his fist connected or when the prick hit the ground .

" what is your fucking problem asshole" .

" my problem is you , ya had the perfect woman and all you wanted was what she could give you , what she could benefit you not realising you had the best thing on this earth and you fucking took advantage of it , i hear you call her one more thing or they hear you in there well son a punch is gonna be last of you worries" he spat .

" she a chick man get over it acting like a crazy person over maverick bitch" he laughed the fucker laughed as jake went to dive on him only his friends pulled him back.

" she a force of fucking nature , smart and beautiful fucking woman , you lucky she even gave you time of day

. " hangman" rooster called.

" you don't hear what he's saying what he's calling her man" jake growled pushing out of his friends arms only for rooster to pulling back turning him around.

" hangman come on" he said again more almost gentle or something he couldn't quite place.

" nat no" was all they heard before the female pilot hit the man again only he went to hit back this time .

" not now rooster" jake gritte only for rooster took a hold the mans fist as the fucker actually looked scared.

" you get out of here not in there, he's right you say one bad thing about y/n in there you gonna get your ass beat " rooster pulled the men away sending them off with black eyes and bruised cheek .

" what the hell , did you hear them" jake snapped.

" jake we need to go hospital , there's been an accident . y/n hurt real bad" .

" come on lets go" he said leading him , nat and bob to his car . all again quiet once more.

The ride to the hospital was silent all wondering what bad truly was and all afraid to ask . in the space so short as a month she'd managed to worm her way into their hearts and now they hoped it wasn't end of what was going to be a beautiful friendship . jake felt ill hell he felt everything all in once but now more so fear and worry . it was all so much in so little time but one feeling he felt one he more , one he feared of feeling all these years and it could be too late.

" oh my" nat gasped turning their attention to the side of the rode . they saw it all the glass everywhere , blood pooled on the ground it didn't take a genius to connect the dots they knew . her bike still on the ground as the cops had the area closed off and her helmet thrown on the ground half haphazardly. " stop i'll meet you there" nat yelled already getting out of the car. " that bike is her baby i need to" was all she said .

" i'll go with her and get guys to bring us" bob said running after her.

" she right , that bike is here baby , she been driving them since she was sixteen , think that's her second one , the other one is in our garage she still cleans it takes it out. My mom was freaked when she got the first one i mean scared to death on it but mav would say she was go driver" he chuckled as they drove down the highway.

" thought he hated her on them".

"wasn't always that way ... shit mav probably freaked thinking history's repeating , look i said it wasn't my story to tell but fuck it , you know charlie blackwood her mom well she died when y/n was seventeen hit her hard during the whole thing well she needed space. sick of people giving their well wishes which i agree it's only so much of if you need me .. anyways she went on drive although that night it was raining from what we know she lost control on the road was real bad she ended up in a coma for couple months , they said she slim to none chance of full recovery and she beat those odd woke up all ok first thing she asked was her bike ok" he laughed as tears gathered in his eyes .

" she stubborn one huh but she fighter too so determined you know well of course you know your like her brother , she never lets anything go even when the guys talked down to her she showed them what was what probably how she had half the base on her side in matter of weeks, she's so smart too like brains for miles , it's cute to when you see her concentrating hard on something her little tongue poking out or that laugh not the fake one she gives cyclone to boost his ego but the real one that makes you wanna do more to keep it going" was like he couldn't stop talking it all falling out his mouth on it own free will as bradley smiled listening.

" sounds like a man in love to me , i mean i know i was young but reminds me of the way my dad would talk about my mom" .

" you hit your head chicken boy you sound crazy" jake quickly covered his track albeit not well .

" oh shut up man you know i'm right and me crazy you attack the same man twice for merely talking bad about her" rooster shook his head.

" that was hypocritical i mean come on i said same sort of shit first time with met i called her flumpy like she should of clocked my ass".

" well you do make shit first impression, i'll give you that is true but i've noticed a change in you since you met her , woman of hard deck are safe from your chat up lines , your not sleeping around like a dog and you've been trying to make it up to her since the beach. Yeah you tease her but thats your love language or what ever amelia says . all i'm saying is you got time to turn it around" rooster explained all so easily like he knew something more then he was letting on and maybe he did .

" do i though?" jake ask crashing them back to reality knowing it might not be a chance. He hope rooster was right , he hoped he could make things right and he hoped it wasn't too late . 

Part three

[ninyard]

how do you think andrew and aaron’s relationship changes after the trial?

(i’m so annoyed i wrote a really long detailed answer for this and then stupid tumblr mobile got rid of it so lemme try again)

i think that after the trial andrew and aaron’s relationship changes for the worse, for a while, until both of them are in a place to make it better.

aaron disappears for a while after the trial - he goes away with katelyn, maybe staying with her parents or in some hotel in a state far away from south carolina. they spend some refreshing time together without the crushing weight of the trial haunting their every second. he cries a lot, that week or two, every now and again hit with the relief of freedom and the guilt of knowing he did kill someone, at the end of the day. he may not be guilty, he may be free, but a man died by his hand. it’s so fresh as well, everything having been recounted over the past week and a bit. but it’s the first thing they do when he gets home after they receive his not guilty judgement; they leave, and he doesn’t talk to anyone other than her for however long they go for.

before that, during the trial, aaron breaks down after andrew’s testimony. he knew it would be hard but hearing it out loud, so detailed, so monotone. andrew doesn’t fuck around with the lawyers. he says it like it is, he states the facts. aaron was expecting him to be a nightmare on the stand, but no, he’s perfect, he’s telling them everything, oh god he’s telling them everything. it destroys aaron. he’s wrecked with guilt, thinking about how much andrew has done for him in his life, how little he feels he’s given him in return. and he can’t stop thinking about everything all at once; remember the way andrew sleeps? with his back to the wall and a knife under his pillow? how he can’t stand those certain words, how he can’t be touched? how he was when you met him for that first time? how he was when you started living together?

it reframes his entire relationship with andrew, his entire view of him as a person, and it kills him to think about how his brother actually went through this. he’s not lying because he thinks it’s funny, he’s telling the truth. after andrew testifies, until the end of the trial, aaron is a numb emotionless mess. every second of his days are spent thinking about andrew andrew andrew. the guilt he feels over causing this, causing andrew to talk about his past, the past he kept well hidden for an obviously good reason. he can’t look andrew in the eye, not because he necessarily views him differently, but because it hurts him so badly to remember the words that left his lips on the stand.

andrew is the same, in some ways. he already isolated himself for a week before the trial, staying in wymack’s place, not talking to anyone for fear the sickening feeling in his stomach would escape. he takes to the stand, and he’s shaking, but he can’t look at anyone other than the lawyer. he can’t look at aaron, who sits with his mouth ajar beneath a hand that covers it in shock. he can’t look at neil, on the right side of the room, trying his hardest not to react to the excruciating details. he can’t look at cass, on the left side of the room, her husbands hands intertwined in hers, a tissue in her free hand blotting the leaky eyes she’s had since day one. he can’t look at the jury, judging him for his criminal record, for his mental health, for his sexuality and his past.

when he leaves, he doesn’t even talk to neil. he gets in his car, he drops them all off at fox tower, and he immediately drives to reddin. he doesn’t say anything to betsy, either, but he sits next to the window in her office and smokes his way through a packet of cigarettes for an hour or two before he’s able to bring himself to leave. he still goes to the rest of the trial for aaron’s sake, but every time he hears a whimper from cass on the other side of the room, he feels sick. everytime he hears drakes name, he hears the lawyers trying to pin a murder charge on his brother, it twists him up inside. he has as much anxiety about the verdict as aaron does. he feels guilty about what he has caused, too, fearing aaron going to prison because he was protecting him. because he killed the man andrew had been dreaming of killing for years.

the trial ends, and andrew stays with wymack for another few days until he’s ready to return, and he speaks to betsy in some manner every day for a week or two, whether it be via a phone call or an emergency session.

when aaron comes back, they avoid each other unintentionally. mostly unintentionally, anyway, but neither have anything to say. there’s no words that’ll be enough. aaron cancels their next few sessions with bee, and andrew doesn’t seek him out at all. i think for a while after the trial neither of them can stomach looking the other in the eye, and it’s not just because of andrew’s testimony, either, it’s everything altogether that causes this terrible drift they’d been working hard to repair.

the first time they talk to each other again is six weeks later in bees office, where andrew finally looks at aaron and says, i’d do it again to keep you here. and aaron loses it. he sobs, apologising and melting down, and andrew hates it, but bee steps in to stop him from stopping aaron. it’s not enough, it never will be, nuts it’s the first step on a looooooooong road they have together. but they understand each other that little bit more, and in the end i think it makes them closer. it just takes a very, very long time to get there.

[piss-pumpkin]

Sober confessions (are a little better) - Leo valdez x reader

Part 2 of drunken confessions (kind of suck), ~3.3k words, gn reader Masterlist

Leo was in shock. It took every ounce of willpower not to burst into flames as you froze for a moment, caught off guard. “I what?” You asked, dumbstruck. What really got to him though was your face. He knew you well enough to see the subtle blush, and the suppressed smile. 

But good or bad, that was the question. Leo laughed along, doing his best to play cool while his mind raced. “Yeah,” he giggled, averting his eyes casually by looking at the phone. “You had me blushing and everything,” he joked. Okay, that was a safe answer. Not saying he rejected you, or that he wanted to accept. Neutral mostly, if a little flirty. Leo’s eyes were trained on the phone screen, wide and wild as he fought a nervous smile and tried to mask it with a flirty one. 

“I did?” You asked, baffled. In his peripheral he could see you do the same as him, stare at your food. Okay, now he could look at you, if you weren’t looking at him. For just a moment he wondered if it was his brain that was on fire, with logic like that. He quickly shook it off. 

He got one glance in before he folded, eyes immediately darting back to the phone, which he just now realized was off, and had been for at least a minute. Shit. He turned in on, and opened a random app. In just a look he saw your wide eyes, flushed face and your hand covering your mouth, but by your eyes he could tell your pained smile. Double shit. Was drunk you onto something? Leo stared at a dumb mobile game and somehow managed to form words, “yeah,” he laughed. “You were pretty smooth.”

You cringed, and Leo decided he might be the worst guy around at reading signals, and actually you might just be embarrassed about confessing to a guy like him. You hummed awkwardly, “Oh, that’s… something.”

Something? Leo winced, waiting for you to say more. But more never came, and an awkward silence filled the air, which was somehow worse than a more awkward conversation. 

You finally spoke, “Like, for real? For actually? I actually did that?”

Leo purse his lips, pausing a moment. To tell you, or not to tell you? He could probably still lie, or make a joke of it. But he promised not too. “What, you can’t believe it? It’s true, you a little smooth when you’re drunk,” he smiled cautiously. 

You looked over at him curiously, and the blush across your face confused him just a little bit. “Wha-what did you say?” You asked, puzzled. 

Well shit. “Uh,” he started, looking for the easiest answer. Or best answer. How to say no, but I wanted to say yes. But I can’t say yes. And you don’t want me to, not really. And I don’t want to say yes, actually, because it sucks you only like me when you’re fucked up. “No?” He said. “I-I said no, I guess.”

”Oh,” you said simply, looking back at your food.

And suddenly Leo felt very small. In a bad way, he decided. Sometimes small could be good, people like small things, some people think they’re cute. But Leo felt small like a grain of sand or dirt that gets stuck in your shoe, a constant bother but hard to shake. He wasn’t sure why he needed to defend himself on this, “Well, it’s not like I could say yes,” he laughed. “Besides, it’s not like you meant it.”

You nodded, “Right.” And he couldn’t read your expression, a language he was usually fluent in. 

Panic. “Right?” He asked, trying to play it off, brow raised like he as teasing.

You looked over at him and smiled softly, nodding again, more confidently this time. “Right,” you affirmed, and stood up, plate in hand. “I think you tell me one more thing I did last night I’ll combust, so I’m gonna go catch up on whatever my chores are, alright?” You laughed warmly. “See ya later?”

Leo swallowed, nodded, “Yeah, later.”

And then you were off, first to burn what was left for the gods, and then out of the dining pavilion. And Leo was alone, and hoped nobody was around to hear that borderline painful conversation. He was certain he’d never struck out worse, in all the times he flirted around camp. And he didn’t even have to try this time. What an achievement. 

                                              …

This were bad. Your legs were shaking in your compelling mortified state as you walked out. And as soon as you turned a corner out of sight of the pavilion, you broke into a speed walk, then jog, then sprint back to your cabin. Oh my gods. You only got a few weird looks as you ran, and your head only hurt a little bit as it bobbed up and down with the steps. That was good, at least. 

You shut the door behind you, and ran your fingers through your hair. Okay. Time to take stock of your dead, you supposed. You made a fool of yourself asking out Leo, and got rejected. Rejected? You dramatically collapsed on your bed. Rejected. By Leo. 

What to do? Apologize? Act like it never happened? Something dramatic? Avoid him? Forever? You stared out the window at the trees a moment. You probably embarrassed him, too. Ugh. You dragged your hands across your face, pulling the skin. You half wanted to peel it off. Yikes. 

Leo was far from the only person at camp you thought you’d have a shot with, but he was definitely the only one you could want. And you just had to go ruin that. 

You spent a fair amount of time lamenting in your cabin, then a good stretch doing chores like you said. And did your best to keep busy as long as you could, and keep your head empty, without a thought of what had happened. At least nobody else knew. Whenever people from last night felt like talking to you, they brought up the other shenanigans, and you could have fun remembering, or hearing about your exploits. Distractions. 

But the sun was setting, and you were getting restless. Ignoring problems only worked for so long, and sometimes letting them fester was worse. Damage control. You should nip this in the bud. If you payed the right cards, maybe you could recover. 

You were just finishing cleaning up the arts and crafts station, when you nodded to yourself. Yeah. Good plans. Maybe you could save yourself. Half the work was done for you, he already believed it was just the alcohol.  

You started to the bunker, not bothering to check his cabin. He was probably working alone, at this time of day. The sun was going down, and the sky was turning a purple haze. You half hoped you were wrong, and Leo was somewhere around seeing the pretty colours. 

You knew the code, one of few with the privilege of walking in without knocking. And of course, you were right, and hopes wrong. There he was. 

“Hey,” you said softly, coming up beside him. He looked up at you with his wide brown eyes, and you cringed a little, hoping you didn’t ruin your friendship with him. You could live with losing your chances with him, but your whole relationship? No shot. “Uh, I just wanted to say… sorry about last night?” You said, offering an only slightly awkward smile. “Must have been really awkward for you.”

Leo smiled as he looked up at you, cringing with his eyes. “Yeah, little bit,” he laughed, then waved his hand, dropping the metal he was tinkering with. “But it’s fine, Y/n, no need to apologize.”

Well that’s good. You sighed in relief. At least things were good. He seemed at ease. Maybe recovery could be easy. With a smile, you hopped up onto the desk beside him to sit, like usual. At least things weren’t weird. You groaned, resting the back of your head against the wall behind you. “At least I don’t remember, because I’d probably be even more mortified that way.”

Leo snickered rolling his eyes, “If you only knew.”

You raised your brow, “Dude,” you said, laughing. “Are you holding out on me? Did I do something even worse than…” you paused, not wanting to bring it up, like that would make it stuck in his head more. “Embarrassing myself completely?”

He paused, and you knew him well enough to know that was his thinking face. You braced yourself, preparing for the worst, for you to have done the most embarrassing thing you could imagine, whatever that was. You probably shouldn’t have even asked, now that you think about it. Ignorance is bli-

But he interrupted your train of thought, “Well, you always, do that,” Leo laughed, smiling softly at his hands. He quickly looked back up to you and laughed, “try to ask me out, that is.”

What. You stared at him. The fuck. “I do not,” you asserted, shaking your head. Because that would be absurd. 

Leo rolled his eyes. “Yeah,”  he said, like it was obvious. “Ya do.”

But if that were true, then he’d have rejected you… how many times? And just never felt like mentioning it. No chance, if that was true, you’re probably just die. Right there on the table. “Yeah, no I don’t,” you said again, somehow more confidently. “Now you’re fucking with me.”

As much as you wanted to maintain what little dignity you had, Leo didn’t look like he was fucking with you. He was smiling, but softly, tiredly even. His mischievous grin that came out when he joked. He looked too serious for this, even if he did laugh, “Yeah, no.” He shook his head, “I’m for realsies.”

But you already knew that. Even if you denied it. If you confessed once and didn’t remember, why not twice? Three times? More? Ugh. You cringed, shrinking into yourself. “That… doesn’t sound fun,” you said, leaning your head back to stare at the ceiling. But you couldn’t resist glancing down at him, as hard as you tried. “For either of us.”

“Yeah,” he sighed, staring at the floor with an awkward smile. “It’s kind of awkward, having to reject you, pretty much every time you drink,” he admitted. “I kind of hate it.”

You swallowed, completely understanding why he looked at the floor. But he seemed to have a stronger will than you, his eyes didn’t waver like yours did. Sighing, you resolved to do better, looking at the ceiling, and this time not looking back. “You hate the idea of me liking you?” You asked, wincing. It came out far weaker than you’d have liked. 

He cracked a smile, leaning his head back on his chair, now staring at the ceiling. “Not the idea, just the practice,” he said, brow furrowed. “I mean, what am I even supposed to say when you do that?”

Yes? You thought. But didn’t say it. He’d already rejected you once today, it seemed. No need to make it twice. “You could have told me, you know,” you said, pulling your feet up where you sat, so your head could rest on your knees. “If you hate it so much. Maybe if you told me, I might stop.”

Leo paused, lips pursed, and then picked up his scrap metal again, and a few wires and bolts. He started to fidget as he spoke, “Well, I thought it would make things weird.”

You snickered, “I guess you weren’t wrong.”

You heard Leo let out a small laugh through his nose, “Yeah, guess so.”

Leo’s workshop bunker was never truly silent. Even when there was nobody to speak, there was always the low rumble of a machine, occasionally the soft hum of the forge, often the sound of Leo tinkering. So you couldn’t really say it was an awkward silence, but it was damn close. 

Leo looked like there was more he wanted to say, brow furrowed and face scrunched as he wired a small contraption with calloused fingers. He sighed, “sorry, I probably shouldn’t have even brought it up, you were just drunk.” He looked up at you, tired smile on his lips. “Believe it or not, it was your idea for me to tell you.”

You spared him a glance, doing your best to meet his eyes. “Yeah,” you said, looking away again. Those eyes were too much. “I guess last night I was just full of bad ideas.”

”Yeah,” he snickered. “Bad ideas.”

You offered him a reluctant smile. “At least now we can forget about it, yeah?” 

Leo nodded, returning the same soft smile, “consider it forgotten.”

You smiled, less reluctant this time. For better or for worse, at least things could go back to normal. It was easier to look at him now, his eyes fallen onto the project in his hands as he leaned over his desk to grab parts. You pulled your phone out of your pocket, the silence feeling much more comfortable now. “If only I had this last night, all the shenanigans could have been documented,” you laughed. Your camera roll was empty.

Leo grinned up at you, “There’s always next time, right?”

“That means you’ve got to come next time, too,” you smiled, lightly kicking him. 

He shrugged, soft smile on his lips, “Well shit, how could I say no now?”

”You can’t,” you smirked. The empty camera roll needed fixing, that was certain. You turned slightly, opening the camera and holding the phone in front of you at a high angle. “Be my first picture?” You asked, looking down at him.

Wordlessly, he posed, dramatically winking and giving a thumbs up to the camera, and you snapped the shot. “Nice,” you said. It was a good first photo.

You turned to show him, but lost the will immediately. Leo was looking up at you rather intensely, lips pursed. He answered before you could ask, “Actually, Y/n, I know we just said to forget about… that whole thing,” he said, pushing his chair back and resting his feet in the table next to you. “But… I sorta promised you last night that I’d talk about it.”

Oh. You swallowed. Okay. Maybe you weren’t in the clear yet. 

                                            …

Leo was really doing it. He sighed, palms sweaty as metal pieces and wires idly bounced between them as he tried to calm his nerves. “Y/n, I don’t want to forget the things you say when you’re drunk, because they’re so…” he winced, tying to find the words that wouldn’t make him sound as pathetic as this felt. “…so nice, I guess.”

For a good moment, Leo was certain that came off horribly. But you didn’t seem to think so, looking at him with wide eyes, mouth hung slightly open. Maybe surprised. 

Leo pursed his lips. You were waiting for him to say more, and who was he if he didn’t fold when you looked at him like that? “I guess I just wish you liked me when you’re sober,” he said finally, shaking his head, eyes lowering. Yeah. That was it. Straight to the point.

“Leo, I-“ you started, reaching a hand out to him. He held his breath as you hesitated, and released when you put your hand down at the edge of the table in front of him. “Leo, I like you when I’m sober.”

Leo smiled, laughing through his nose. He scooted his chair closer again, resting an elbow beside your hand so he could hold up his head as he looked up at you. “Yeah, I know,” he chuckled. “But not like that.”

You pursed your lips, deathly still, but your eyes moved to the floor. 

Leo stopped you before you could respond, free hand up in the air like surrender. “Hey, and I’m not asking you too,” he said, doing his best to maintain his causal smile. He laughed, “I just… hey, we’re both full of dumb ideas. I guess I just wanted to tell you.” That might have been a lie. Telling you was the last thing he wanted. But here he was. 

You stared for a moment, and Leo could feel his heart beating in his throat. Then you laughed, covering your mouth, and he gulped, preparing for the worst. “Leo,” you said, hand barely covering a smile. “Leo, oh my gods.”

Leo paused, scrunching his brow. Huh? This could go very bad. Or maybe good? You didn’t seem mad, at least. 

Smiling at the floor, you scooted closer, until you were sitting just in front of him, smirking down. He must have looked like an idiot, staring up at you with wide eyes and confused the way he was. But that wasn’t unusual for him. “Leo I think your only dumb idea was liking me,” you laughed, head resting in your hands. 

Now Leo was officially puzzled. He stared dumbly at you. Blinked once, twice, and then realized he should probably say something. The laughing was involuntary, and he was about fifty percent sure he liked what you were saying. “Ha,” he exclaimed. “Like that was my idea,” he said rolling his eyes, “that was all you.”

You giggled, and for a moment Leo thought he saw you blush for a moment. “Leo I might have another bad idea,” you said, leaning closer towards him. 

Okay, that might be a sign, Leo thought, perhaps even a signal. He also thought he might combust, or at least burst into flames if not explode right there. But when you smiled down at him, face maybe a foot from his, it all left his brain. Not a single thought at all. “What… is it?” he asked awkwardly, grinning like a dork. 

“I think,” you started, “that we should totally kiss, wouldn’t that be awesome?” you said, resting your forehead on his. 

Leo flinched as your heads touched, for a split second retracting to avoid burning you. He felt hot. Burning. But not on fire. Before you could pull back too and lose the moment, he bridged the gap, eyes pressed shut, didn’t burn up, and kissed you. Oh my Gods. He was half shocked when you didn’t pull away, and had a heart attack when you kissed back, wide smile on your lips.

You giggled when you pulled back, “Hey, we should do that more often.”

Leo was grinning like an idiot, looking up at you. Wow you were pretty. And he wasn’t entirely sure this was real, he could swear he’s had this exact daydream once. But never so vivid. He shook his head, laughing. “Y/n, you’re the worst,” he giggled, letting his head fall into his hands.

”You don’t mean that,” you laughed, playfully hitting him on the shoulder. 

He couldn’t help but smile more into his hands, “no, I don’t,” he said, shaking his head. “How could I, after that?”

He heard you let it a small nose laugh, and felt your hand on his. Without a seconds hesitation he let you move his hands away, and replace them with your own as you guided his head up to look at you again. He leaned gently on your hand as you spoke, “Leo, I’m sorry I made you think I- I only liked you when I’m drunk,” you said, eyes not leaving his face. “Because thats not true.”

Leo, for a moment scared you might pull your hands back, covered them in his own. And he thought your hands were the only place he could ever want to rest his head. “Well, you did a great job proving me wrong,” he snickered. 

You smiled, “that’s my favourite thing to do, actually.”

”Wanna do it again?” He grinned. 

Anyway. Teehee I was kicking my feet a little writing this one ngl.

Taglist: I’m just gonna tag everyone who asked for this in the first post lmao lmk if you want tag removed @annybah @nottherealslimshady @bellamysnatblida

[ofdinosanddais1]

I'm always flabbergasted by boomers who like to med shame by being like "oh, wow, you're on so many pills and you're so young" like okay and??? You think a handful of pills daily is worse compared to the 24/7 migraines and chronic sleep problems??? This shit has restored my youth to me. I am doing things that child me couldn't have done. I WROTE 50K IN A NOVEL AND I'VE GOT ANOTHER SERIES PLANNED THAT'S AT 10K WORDS AND I STARTED LAST FUCKING WEEK.

Not everything with my illnesses is 100% gone with meds but Gods do you know how fucking amazing I feel compared to the last 23 fucking years OF MY LIFE???

You mean I can get a normal amount of sleep like everyone else and not feel like i'm surviving off a two hour nap and a corndog??? You mean I can socialize and have fun and shit without feeling like my brain is on fire??? You mean I can be more active and accommodate my other disabilities easier??? AND IT'S JUST AT THE COST OF TWO TINY FUCKING PILLS EVERY NIGHT??? (There's more with supplements due to me still healing from celiac disease but my point still stands). I really feel like I'm getting the better end of the deal here. One of the side effects is literally a huge fucking benefit for me so the only actual negative side effect I get is dry mouth and meanwhile I get my energy, peace, and existence back? And you're telling me that taking that medicine is a BAD THING???

If you are still wary about getting aids and accommodations to help you (hell *I* still am), then remember that a mobility aid or a medication or an accommodation is to help YOU. It's not to make abled people feel comfortable. It's for YOU. YOU deserve to feel comfortable. YOU deserve to have a good life. YOU deserve to enjoy life and anyone who says you shouldn't because it looks weird can take huge fucking log and shove it right up their ass.

[muddyorbsblr]

you deserve better

See my full list of works here!

Summary: When all the plans you'd made for today go down the drain, the last person you expected shows up at your door to try turning the night around

Pairing: James Conrad x Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: angst; language; craptastic friends [let me know if i missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: simp Conrad, that is all 🫠

"Fucking dammit!"

You gripped your phone tightly in your hand, resisting the urge to chuck it into the sea right where the ship's rotor blade was located. Tears burned behind your eyes as every message you'd missed in the last week while you were on this research trip with Monarch trickled in at a steady pace now that you and the rest of the crew had signal again.

Where your fellow scientists were calling up loved ones on FaceTime with bright smiles on their faces and assurances that they were on their way back home, you had an influx of messages from your friends telling you that no, they wouldn't be making your birthday dinner tonight after all.

"Doctor Y/L/N?"

Oh fuck not him, doesn't he have a pool bar to get to so he can snap his fingers and get tonight's lay? you snidely thought to yourself, steeling your stance at the sound of former Captain James Conrad's voice. Taking a deep breath, you turned to face him. "What's up, Conrad? Looking to split an Uber and Brooks doesn't wanna--"

"Are you alright?"

His question felt like a shock to your system, making you blink your eyes repeatedly as if you were trying to get your bearings back. "Of course," you lied through your teeth. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well…" he trailed off, motioning toward your hand. "You're gripping your mobile so hard your knuckles are turning white, for one."

You glanced at your hand, sighing when you saw your skin stretched taut over bone and trying to relax your grip somewhat. "Fine," you gritted out. "If you really wanna know, it's my birthday today. I had plans to spend tonight with my friends once I'd unpacked and washed that goddamned island off of my skin. But some people in that group can't seem to let petty high school shit go, and today when we finally got signal again I got a metric fuckton of messages from one of said friends calling me either a bad friend or a dumbass for extending an invitation to my friends because it's inconvenient for her, which then led to a domino effect of if she's not going then I'm not going and now…" you trailed off, chuckling sardonically to yourself. "Now no one's going."

Something akin to pity crossed the tracker's eyes, making you look away. The last thing you needed right now was the most jaw-droppingly unfairly handsome man on the face of God's green earth to look at you like a sad wet little puppy left out on the side of the road.

"Anyways I'm off," you said a little too chipper it even made you cringe a little inside. "Got a date with a pizza box, fridge full of wine, and my Netflix account. 'Till the next one, Conrad."

Before he could say anything else, you were already walking to your Uber that just pulled up, finally letting yourself let go of all the hot air you were running on and quite aptly feeling deflated. When you were finally far enough from the port that Conrad wasn't even a speck in your line of sight, you felt the tears start to roll down your cheeks.

You felt exponentially worse when you got home, most of the food that you'd placed an order for before you left on the trip to be delivered today already waiting on your porch.

"Fucking dammit," you repeated, albeit this time with a whimper rather than a roar. You propped your door open and started bringing the food in, deciding to set aside a couple of days worth of meals for yourself and then giving the rest to a nearby food bank so that it would at least do some good.

It took a few hours but you were finally perched on your couch, wearing a comfy pajama short set, Kate & Leopold playing on your TV, and tucking straight into a tub of mudslide ice cream just letting the night pass. This definitely wasn't how you pictured spending your 30th birthday, but you strived to remember that there could have been worse ways to spend tonight.

You could've been mediating between spatting friends because they couldn't manage to keep civil for one night, or you could've been on the receiving end of Deena's tirade about "how duplicitous you were to drag her into a gathering with Shana". The island would've been a better alternative than dealing with that all night.

About 30 minutes into the movie you heard a knock on your door, causing you jump in your seat. "I didn't order anything!" you hollered toward your front door, wincing at the pins and needles starting to prickle at your feet and lower legs from the motion.

Whoever was outside knocked again, this time a bit more persistent with the sound booming across the living room. Your visitor, whoever it may be, wasn't here by mistake, and they weren't about to be waved off with a simple 'go away I'm pissy'.

"I told you, buddy, I didn't order any--" Your words stopped short on the tip of your tongue as you saw nothing but broad shoulders clad in a familiar tight and worn blue t-shirt stretched tight over well-defined pectorals, only this time with an off-the-rack casual blazer draped over it. Your eyes slowly traveled upward to meet the oceanic blue eyes that quite frankly you constantly tried and failed not to dream about whenever you drifted off to sleep at night. "Conrad…" you said his name slowly, as if every part of your brain was fighting against accepting the reality that he was here now, looking like the human embodiment of Lust on ridiculously long legs. "What're you doing here?"

There were quite a few thoughts that crossed your mind in the last few hours, scenarios that you'd conjured up on how the rest of the night would go, each of them dwindling in their respective probability as the hours ticked on. Former SAS Tracker James Conrad being at your door, however, was definitively not among those scenarios.

"Erm…I thought I would come over to check on you. You were visibly…understandably…upset when we parted ways at the pier," he answered, shifting his weight to one leg as if trying to make it all sound so casual. He looked over at how you were dressed, from the haphazard ponytail down to the fuzzy monster slippers covering your feet, and resumed his stance that you'd grown accustomed to with the squared shoulders and the ramrod straight back as if he was back on training grounds. "Get dressed, Y/L/N."

You jerked your head backwards, surprise and confusion flooding your system at the soft spoken order. "Why?"

"I'm taking you out for dinner," he stated plainly. "I know you had plans for tonight and they didn't pan out the way you intended. No one should such an important day alone unless they really want to."

"Conrad, please. I'm fine, everything's fine. You don't have to check in on me or take me out to dinner or keep me company out of--I don't even know, pity? You have your own thing and I don't wanna keep you from it or the hordes of women who would probably abandon all common human decency and trample over each other to get that blazer off of you." You finished your little lament with a wave toward the garment, already stepping back like you were about to send him off to better and more interesting company.

When he sensed what you were about to do, he reached out, putting your hand in a delicate hold. "The night has barely begun, and you're in pajamas, eating ice cream, and one of your comfort movies is playing on the screen." He motioned his head towards your TV, where Hugh Jackman and Meg Ryan were currently paused mid-waltz on a New York rooftop. He brought his hand up to cup your face, swiping his thumb over the corner of your mouth before softly saying, "This isn't fine. And I know that I'm not the company you expected or perhaps even prefer. I just--I wanted to come here tonight and just let you know…that I'm here. So…you could join me for dinner or alternatively I could join you here and you can talk my ear off with your movie commentary. The point is that you won't be spending your birthday alone."

His words left you stunned to near silence. "I uhm--I'll go get dressed then." You stepped back from his hold, an irrational part of you already missing his touch, awkwardly waving toward the sitting area. "I'll be out in a few minutes."

Once you'd started to make your way up the stairs, Conrad made his way to the living area of your house, a smile making its way to his face as he looked at the framed pictures you had on your shelves, your dimpled toothy grin on full display. "Oh, Y/N," he breathed your name almost reverently in the silence. "How the hell am I going to move on from you now?"

Earlier today when you'd all disembarked off the ship, he had plans to wash up and head off to a bar to look for someone to keep him company for the night, perhaps until Monday when you were all expected to return to Monarch for briefing on your next mission. All he wanted was to find someone who held even the faintest resemblance to you and lose himself in the chimera that you were the one he was with, that he held you in his arms as he woke up that next morning, and with that indulgence to tide him over for some time, perhaps he could maintain the professional, nearly friendly, relationship that he had with you without running the risk of putting that in jeopardy all because he couldn't keep his affections in check.

Those plans all went down the drain when he saw how you were fighting back tears explaining how your plans for tonight had gone off the rails. When his choices for how to spend the night were spending a few empty hours with someone he would meticulously compare to you or making sure that your birthday wasn't going to be spent alone and licking wounds that should never have been dealt to you in the first place, there was no choice to make.

Tonight's objective was simply to wipe the frown away from your perfectly enchanting face, perhaps even get you to smile. And maybe somewhere along the way finally get you to see him as someone more than just your colleague. Someone that cared. A friend, if he was really going to push it.

And maybe if he was going to entertain the moon shot that played in his most self-indulgent daydreams…a lover.

The sound of you clearing your throat brought him out of his thoughts, the sight of you in your simple pale blue dress with a slight teasing cutout by your waist stealing every bit of his breath away. "Too much?" you asked him, your tone shaky.

"Not at all," he croaked out, clearing his throat before speaking again. "You uhm…you look--You're beautiful." The tiniest smile played at your lips as you motioned for him to follow you to the door. "You always are," he murmured under his breath.

"What was that?" you called out absentmindedly, still steadily making your way to the front door.

"N-Nothing," he stammered. "I was just…admiring your home. It's lovely."

"It's too damn big is what it is," you scoffed as he passed you at the threshold before locking the door. "That's what I get for being perpetually alone, I guess. Just my luck that every guy I ever even tried to date fully expects me to hang up my coat and give up my research so I can play housewife." Your eyes misted over again as the next words came out. "Not a single soul on God's green earth that could deal with that." You turned the key with a little more force than necessary, the lock clicking into place with a resounding knock.

When the two of you made your way to his car, he opened the door for you, your disbelief at the gesture evident in your eyes. And when he was sure that you wouldn't be able to hear him through the car's closed door, he whispered to himself, "I could deal with that. If it meant that you were mine, I could deal with anything."

A/N: Happy happy birthday @liminalpebble!! I hope this puts a smile on your face today and that you have a spectacular year ahead of you, bestie 🥹🥹 Many many hugs from me and Grassy the Mango (even though the bub hasn't arrived yet but it will…today. I think…)

everything taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @unlucky-number-13 @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @evelyn-kingsley @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @peaches1958 @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th @lovelysizzlingbluebird @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @lokidokieokie @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @gigglingtiggerv2

[linkedsoul]

HI MY FRENCHIES FROM THE 3RD CIRCUMSCRIPTION OF FRENCH PEOPLE ABROAD aka my French residents of Northern Europe and especially London: (and my English speaking followers who'd like to French elections drama)

Macron's candidate, Vincent Caure, is blatantly lying on his program about his opponent's party, the NFP, which feels very dishonest and, frankly, kind of pathetic? I know Frenchies in London voted a lot for him but PLEASE let's not let a liar get ahead of the race.

He claims the NFP - a coalition of green and leftist parties - will have Mélenchon as Prime Minister. For some reason, the French media is OBSESSED with making Mélanchon (the leader of a prominent leftist party) THE DEVIL. Look. I know some people don't like Mélenchon even on the left. But he's NOT EVEN PART OF THIS ELECTION. Besties: he's not a candidate anywhere. And even less for French people abroad. And even worse: the NFP has NEVER said who they'd send as Prime Minister if they get the majority in the assembly. This is FAKE.

He pretends French people abroad will be doubly taxed because of the NFP wants to put back the "exit tax", and that the NFP is obsessed with the universal tax (aka paying taxes for your country even when you work abroad). The exit tax is a specific tax that affects only people who own A LOT in assets. I have no idea how to even reach to that kind of criteria. I don't think neither me nor any of the French people I know in Dublin have the assets required to have to pay the exit tax. I wish I had that amount of money so I could get taxed on it! Alas, Vincent Caure and I don't live in the same world because it's not even remotely a worry for me. As for the universal tax, it's nowhere in the NFP's program so I guess they're not as obsessed with it as Vincent claim they are.

He offers to put more procedures online such as passpot renewal online whereas the NFP offers nothing. Ok slay king, then run your campaign on that instead of telling lies. Unless this is your only good point?

He claims that the NFP wants to end nuclear energy, which would make us depend on Russian gas. Nowhere is this written on the NFP program. There are only 4 mentions of the word "nuclear" in the NFP program and none of it is associated to the word "stop" or "end", half of them are not even about nuclear energy itself... I don't see where he got that from.

He does agree that the NFP wants to make railways more accessible but argue that they didn't vote for a law making mobility within France easier. Fair! He forgets to mention most of the supporters of this law were his party only and BOTH LEFT AND RIGHT voted against, citing lack of funding for this law as an issue, that the Prime Minister back then brushed away, so take that what you will. Also want to note his only point for this program is that they're going to use the funding for transport that they already have so... ok good? that's not revolutionary. That's just expected.

He also claims that:

the left is the one who led to the far right taking the lead when it's his own party who called for an election. Like. The move no one expected nor wanted except the far right. That was all Macron. That was all your party. You guys flirted so much with the far right that you led them right in, that is NOT the left's fault and even less your favorite scapegoat, Jean-Luc Mélenchon - who, I'd like to remind everyone, is not a candidate for this election oh my god shut up about Mélenchon already I don't care about Mélenchon why are you obsessed with Mélenchon

The left wants a Frexit because of their tax policies (debunked above) and nuclear energy policies (also debunked above). The left is notoriously pro-EU, his opponent is a British-French citizen who probably saw the shitshow of Brexit from the front rows. And even if the left wants to tax VERY rich people trying to avoid being taxed on their huge assets out of France (fun fact: it's for the people who try and get their assets moved to Dubai not to pay taxes on them lmao) and wanted to reduce the use of nuclear energy, that does not equate Frexit, like, I... I don't see the correlation.

The left is planning for 300 billion more expenses and intends to cover for those expenses by taxing people the most. The thing he's not saying is that they intend to tax the richest. It's the rich the target. The very VERY rich. Not you, regular French immigrant to Ireland who struggles with the cost of life in Dublin and cry for a better flat.

ALL IN ALL: Vincent Caure is a liar who ment comme un arracheur de dent et fait sa campagne dessus, ce qui est un peu dégueu.

He cries about potential taxes that would only affect a very, very tiny minority of French people who were probably trying to evade said taxes anyway and tries to frame it as "double taxing French people abroad"

The left wants to tax the rich and good for them and good for us who are not playing in the targeted tax bracket AT ALL.

Macron's party is the one who's fucked us all over; Attal is a notoriously impopular Prime Minister; they're a party for the rich (as proven above by trying to act as if a tax on the rich was gonna be a double tax for everyone like... lmao how out of touch are you) and love to frame themselves as the only right solution QUAND C'EST EUX QUI NOUS ONT MIS DANS LA MERDE

As with the rest of his party, he's obsessed with Mélenchon, who has nothing to do with this specific election since the opposition is initially from the Green Party.

SVP SI VOUS ÊTES DANS LA 3E CIRCONSCRIPTION DES FRANÇAIS À L'ÉTRANGER, VOTEZ CHARLOTTE MINVIELLE AU MOINS POUR NE PAS ÊTRE REPRÉSENTÉ PAR UN CANDIDAT QUI VOUS MENT SANS HONTE POUR AVOIR DES VOTES

and for my English speaking friends: please pray for us all (at least here the far right is not gonna pass but I'd rather not have such a liar for deputee please and thank you)

ET COMME TOUJOURS, ON EMMERDE LE FRONT NATIONAL!

[italiansteebie]

As someone who is disabled, I am obsessed with the idea of Steve Harrington in a wheelchair or using mobility aids. Maybe hurt/comfort with Steve feeling stuck? like out in public people will treat him like a baby and dote on him like he cant do anything at all. Also established steddie?? ->

ignore me if u dont like this prompt hshs

excuse you, this was an amazing prompt and I love it.

and I am a sucker for projecting onto Steve, so lets go.

---

Steve was always in pain nowadays.

In fact, it only got worse after the bats, and he figures the exertion after the fact didn't help. Before, he could always push through, hobble along and ice his aching joints when he got home.

Though, he couldn't ignore it after his legs would only stay strong for about ask hour before they collapsed under him. He remembers the first day it happened. He'd been at the grocery store, picking up dinner for his date with Eddie. (It was fairly new, but it was strong). He'd felt a bit weak before leaving, but as always he pushed through, ignoring the dizziness and pain.

It had only gotten worse as he walked through the grocery store, and all of a sudden, he was on the ground, and the grocery store patrons were staring at him, whispering things about the Harrington name and image. The store manager ended up having to call Eddie to come help him.

"Oh, Stevie..." He sighed. He'd been bugging Steve about seeing a doctor for months in fact ever since he was healed himself, he'd been pestering Steve to go to Owens and explain to him what was going on. But he hadn't, and now here they were, Eddie helping Steve into a wheelchair in front of a crowd of Hawkins shoppers.

Steve had been covering his face, and Eddie could almost feel the shame he was experiencing. He wanted to tell their audience off, to go away, to mind their business. But he knew that would only make it worse. So he stayed quiet, and so did Steve.

"Are you okay?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

So they didn't.

And they didn't after Steve saw Owens.

And they didn't after Steve was fitted for a wheelchair.

They just... Didn't.

Until Steve had fallen again.

At Mike's house, with just the kids, who weren't strong enough to help him back into his chair, with no help from his wobbling legs. So they called Eddie, and hid in the basement after Steve had yelled at them to go away, hot tears of embarrassment rolling down his face.

--

They were home now, and again, Steve was quiet. Eddie helped him get situated on the couch, legs still too wobbly to do it unassisted.

"Steve... Lets talk about it,"

Steves head snapped up, eyes shining, "You wanna talk about it? Fine! I'm fucking useless, my legs don't work and I can't fucking do anything by myself anymore! The kids barely look at me, Robs hasn't been able to hang out in weeks, and the rest of Hawkins thinks I'm a fucking charity case! Every time I leave the house it's like I'm a fucking zoo animal. I wish this had never fucking happened! I wish I wasn't-"

"Don't say that, Steve."

"It's true isn't it? Don't you hate having to come help me? God... I just- I'm so..." The sobs crawl their way out of his throat, and he can't stop them once they start.

"Steve..." Eddie rubs a comforting hand up and down Steve's back, pulling him closer to cradle him in his arms. Steve tucked his head into Eddie's neck, letting the tears roll freely down his face. "Steve, you have every right to feel that way but... I hope you know it's not true. The kids... It's just a different dynamic and I'm not supposed to tell you this but Robin has been working on a design of the back of your wheelchair, she wanted it to be a surprise and she was worried she spoil it." He hears Steve sniffle a sort of laugh. "And baby, you cared for me every single day for months while I was healing, what makes you think I hate helping you? I'm so glad I can finally make it up to you."

Steve lifts his head, looking Eddie in the eyes, "Really?"

"Really, Stevie."

He watches Steve smile, for what seemed like the first time since coming home from that doctors appointment. "Also, with all the extra arm work, your biceps look," He pauses to do a chefs kiss, "Fantastico! That's how you guys say it in Italy, right?" He smirks, and Steve bursts into a fit of giggles, tears drying on his cheeks as he shakes his head. "I love you, Eds."

They lean in for a soft kiss, it's slow and sweet, "I love you too, Steve."

[anticomedygarden]

white noise

Piper over thinks her powers and has a crisis. Luckily, her friends are there to ask for help.

ao3 link

i wrote this slightly oxygen deprived so if you see any mistakes please lmk (fr while I was editing I caught so many name, pronoun, spelling, and verb ending errors and I am still a bit not breathing right so please please tell me if something is wrong or doesn't make sense)

for those who don't know who killgrave is: he is a supervillain in netflix's jessica jones. he has powers similar to charmspeak but incredibly more powerful and uses those powers to completely control people, including rape

-

Piper never should have tried to watch TV at camp. She never should have asked her dad for a mobile hotspot and high speed internet. She never should have started catching Jason up on modern media. She never should have continued being friends with her ex-boyfriend. And she never should have introduced him to Marvel.

Jessica Jones currently had his whole attention, and his eyes were a little too bright as the hero snapped Killgrave's neck on her laptop screen. "Finally," he muttered, which would have concerned Piper a lot more had she not been staving off a panic attack.

"Oh my gods," Piper gasped, "I have Killgrave powers!"

Jason looked at her sharply. "Uh-"

She jumped off Jason's bed into the marble floor of the Zeus cabin, suddenly needing to get away from him. "Charmspeak is basically mind control!"

"I mean, you-"

"Oh, gods, did I contribute to Hera's heteronormative agenda?" She was full on panicking now, pacing and breathing heavily. "Do you think it took so long for you to realize you're gay because I was using my powers on you?"

Jason frowned in concentration, and it actually made her feel a little better that he took the time to think about his answer. "I don't think so. I think Hera did more damage than anything. Besides, your powers are more based on your own intent, right? You have to really try to make people do things."

"Not at first!" she said, a tad hysterical. The whole reason I was at the wilderness school was because I got that guy to give me a car!" Sure, she had good control of her powers, now, but whenever she first learned about them, she was basically just manipulating people. It felt icky then, and it felt even worse now that she'd seen what those kinds of abilities could do.

She looked up to see Jason staring at her, concerned. "Don't look at me like that, with your big sad Chris Evans eyes."

Jason's nose crinkled, and his blue eyes - big and sad like Captain America - turned downward. "Who's Chris Evans?"

Any other time, she would have made fun of him for that, but she was too upset to appreciate how funny it was. "The guy who plays adult you."

If it was possible, Jason looked even more confused. "What?"

"Oh gods, oh gods," Piper muttered. "Did I force myself on you? Was everything we did even consensual?"

There was a scratching sound over by Jason's bed, and Piper looked over to see Jason scribbling something down. She was willing to bet it was Chris Evans' name to google later. Again, she wanted to laugh but was freaking out too much.

When he was done, Jason said, "Yeah, I think it was. Even thinking about Hera, we were 15 to 16, and you're very pretty.” So he was he, but whatever. “Exploring your sexuality is what being that age is for." He started walking over to her. "Besides, we never really got past kissing."

Piper sniffed back tears. "Any forced touching is sexual assault."

"It wasn't forced, though," Jason insisted, but Piper still wasn't mollified. "Don't your powers work better when the person already wants to do the thing? Like the final push-"

"That's so much worse!" she exclaimed, to Jason's surprise. His eyes got very wide, and he took a step back. "Consent should be verbal and not coerced! If Chris Evans asked me to have sex with him, I'd probably want to, but I wouldn't say yes!" A horrible thought occurred to her. "Plus, do you know how easy these powers would make it to break an addict's sobriety? Or a million other things that suggestive mind control could do to vulnerable people?"

"Who is Chris Evans?" Jason asked again. Piper vowed to show him the Captain America movies if only so he could understand the archetype role he filled perfectly - if she could ever look at him again. He waved a hand. "It doesn't matter. Piper, you know this is something we all deal with? I could do terrible things with my powers, too. I could short out the entire eastern seaboard's power grid if I tried hard enough." He snapped. "And Nico - you hang out with Will, I know you've heard some of his stories - Nico can and has done some pretty terrible things, but we all still love him." Piper almost said this wasn't the time for Jason's weird older sibling obsession with the Italian before he pulled out the big guns. "Think about Percy. Do you know how hard he has to work to keep his powers in check? Your powers aren't even half as strong as his."

Damn. That was a good one. The boy was practically a ticking time bomb. The focus he expended just to not turn into Luke probably took most of his strength. "You're right," she said. Jason looked relieved. "I should go talk to Percy."

She ran out of Cabin One and booked it to Three.

-

Predictably, Percy and Annabeth were a bit startled when Piper burst into the Poseidon cabin.

"Percy," she declared, "kiss me."

The boy in question sent an alarmed look to Annabeth who seemed equally surprised. "...That's gonna be a no."

Piper narrowed her eyes and threw every bit of concentration into her next two words. "Kiss me."

A fog seemed to come over him, and he actually started to get up. Then, he shook his head. "What are you-"

"Percy, don't listen to her, she's having a crisis," Jason blurted as he shot through the door. The blond did a double take when he saw Percy, Annabeth, and Piper just staring at each other. "Oh, good."

Annabeth held up a hand from her spot at the corner of the bed. "What is going on?"

It was a good thing Jason started talking first because Piper had no idea where to even start. "We were watching Jessica Jones-"

"Oh, I love that show," Annabeth interrupted. "Well, the first season. Krysten Ritter is so hot-"

"So hot," Percy echoed.

"-and David Tennant is so good as Killgrave." Thankfully, that appeared to be all it took for Annabeth to understand Piper's current crisis of self. "Killgrave's powers freaked you out?"

Mutely, Piper nodded.

Annabeth put out a hand. "Percy's demi, it won't work as well on him. Ask me, I'm bi."

Before she could reconsider, Piper said, "Annabeth, kiss me."

Just as it had to Percy, a fog seemed to come over her face, but unlike her boyfriend, Annabeth didn't stop. She got to barely a few inches in front of Piper before she stumbled a little and pulled her head back. "Wow, that's so weird."

Piper was vaguely aware of Percy and Jason watching them in her periphery. "Do you feel violated?"

If she'd expected Annabeth to get uncomfortable at the question, she was sorely disappointed. The daughter of Athena just laughed at her. "I mean, only in the sense that I knew I was being coerced. Otherwise, you're my friend - my very beautiful friend - and I know you wouldn't hurt me. Honestly, if it weren't for Percy, I probably would have kissed you."

Now, everyone - barring Percy, who had apparently had extensive conversations with his girlfriend about what celebrities they both thought were hot - was staring at Annabeth. Piper shook her head and turned to Jason. "See? See how easy it would be for me to force-"

"I think you're looking at it wrong," Percy said suddenly. The son of Poseidon was giving her a thoughtful look. "I don't think your powers are as persuasive as you're thinking they are. You had to really try just now to get me to do anything, and Annabeth was, uh-"

"Ready to do what anyone would be when their awesome friend tells them to kiss them with their superpowers," Annabeth quickly declared.

Jason threw up his hands. "Thank you! And whatever you think you did to me should really be blamed on Hera because we were young-"

"So young," Annabeth agreed.

"-really, not old or experienced enough to be sure about what we wanted, not to mention the memories and manipulation, and you didn't realize you weren’t straight until a lot later, either-"

"So really, if anyone is guilty of mind control and sexual assault, it's Hera," said Percy, who was not afraid of pissing off the queen of the gods. No, he looked perfectly content and not worried about cow shit at all.

That made Piper smile.

"Plus," Percy started, "our powers are there to help us. We're not like characters who get powers by accident or give themselves power ups for their own gain or security. We're born with them because monsters are constantly trying to kill us."

That was...surprisingly insightful. It was easy to forget that Percy was actually pretty smart. "How do you guys do it, then? Deal with these crazy powers?"

Jason shook his head. "Percy can answer that better than me. Anything more than some sparks and flying takes a lot out of me."

His comment very nearly sent Piper back into a tailspin. She never would have considered herself anywhere near as powerful as Jason; hell, she wouldn't even consider herself as powerful as Annabeth. This new responsibility - knowing she could leave this cabin and ruin lives just with her voice - was almost more than she could handle, and she didn't like it at all. She couldn't believe Percy just lived like this, but 100 times worse knowing that his powers could - and had - hurt the gods.

The black haired boy cocked his head. "It's not like...I mean, I don't do anything special. You learn to live with it. You just have to find a way to not be bothered by it or lose control." Her face must have fallen or something because Percy said, "Annabeth helps a lot. I know if I ever did lose control, she'd pull me out of it." He grabbed Annabeth's hand. "Or kill me."

Annabeth blanched. "But it won't ever come to that."

Piper could tell from Percy and Annabeth's faces that it absolutely could come to that and that they'd probably had this exact discussion between the two of them before.

Maybe she should make a kill-pact with Jason or Leo or someone in case she ever went supervillain and turned into Killgrave.

She finally took the time to look around the room and realized that Percy and Annabeth had been doing homework. "Thanks, guys, I feel a lot better. See you at dinner."

"See ya."

The second the door to Percy's cabin was shut, Piper rounded on Jason. "Swear that if I ever go off the deep end, you'll kill me."

Jason's eyes bugged out of his head. "Piper-"

"Swear."

There wasn't any charmspeak in her voice - at least, she didn't think there was - but Jason still said, "Fine, but only if you do the same for me."

Piper nodded. "I swear by the River Styx that if you start using your powers to hurt innocent people and there's no chance of stopping you non fatally, I'll kill you."

Jason repeated the oath, and Piper dragged Jason back to his cabin for a Chris Evans binge.

-

A week later, Leo returned from Indiana and sat next to Piper on the steps of the amphitheater. "Hey, Beauty Queen."

"Hey, Repair Boy."

"I hear you're to blame for Jason suddenly writing Captain America fanfiction?"

Piper burst out laughing. "Is he really?"

Leo chuckled along with her. "Yeah, I caught him last night when he said he was writing a history essay. I think it was Stucky."

Piper grinned. "Technically..." She didn't need to finish the sentence. "But, seriously, with his self worth issues, this is kinda like therapy."

Leo laughed again, and, damn, she missed her friend. "You're not wrong." Then, his smile dropped. "You know, if you were looking for someone to kill you, I'm right here."

Piper raised her eyebrows at him. "Likewise. Wanna make a pact?"

He sure did.