#owen just wants to be left alone so bad

[curmoritor]

@wisadom asked: " dear, what a naughty boy. " with a giggle, axe is swung around only narrowly avoiding lethal strike ( did he dodge? did you miss? ). it isn't personal. it's necessary to tell yourself this while advancing. the clock's ticking goes without an answer / if they are making an attempt to communicate, you cannot understand what's being conveyed / nor do others tell you to cease as you advance, another weapon thrown. this time, it embeds itself into the seat a short distance from the boy's ear. " you are a difficult one to find ! b~ut, now that I have, let's play? " / white for owen, lc yippeee

What a bother. It had been some time since you've been caught by this guy, yet here he is again... hunting you down to be an absolute thorn in your side. And for what? For stealing that guys eye? He hardly even seems bothered by it at this point... You know for a fact that making a mess of the bus is going to only piss of that man up front as well as make Faust even more exasperated with you. Though it's not as if the bus isn't constantly made a mess of by them since they all get on each-others nerves sometimes. Sure, they can all grow closer a bit, but there is also no denying that tempers are still rather strained here sometimes.

It's not hard for you to lure the man out of the bus by simply running outside of it. His throwing axes are a bother, but you are able to dodge them easily as you sigh. Your rapier can't easily deflect something like that- They are far to thick and would easily bend the metal of the weapon so you don't try that. Maybe if you were more desperate but you aren't. You have no fear in you. You can't die twice over- Even if Dante could not revive you, you'd spring back to life in no time at all.

❛ Do you have nothing better to do? Are you so desperate for some paycheck that you keep stalking me~? I'm getting bored of our encounters. ❜ You know you can't kill him. There have been many fixers sent your way of varying levels. Weaker, to stronger and then some of the strongest. Yet none of them are ever able to bring you back dead because you can't stay dead. You are sure that's spread to this guy at this point, so maybe he is going to bring you back alive... Which you want even less, actually. Even if he isn't taking you back to that place, if you are taken to any office and put in any system, it's sure to tip them off to your location.

You are not returning. You are not dying.

❛ You know, maybe you should ask your client if they really wanna keep wasting money on you when you can't even succeed in your mission~? ❜ You both knick each-other in the battle. Only some blood, but you have to take small knicks to get any actual hits on him- It's the same for him. So you have to be wise about what hits you are willing to sacrifice. ❛ The boy I stole this eye from doesn't even care I stole it~ His boss must be a real vandicitive type then! What a bother. Maybe I'll just tear it out and give it to you so you go away. ❜

[ddejavvu]

Tyler Owens and shy reader you say? Who gets flustered every time he looks at them? Who hides their face in his chest to “escape” his gaze? Tyler who wants to kiss her so bad and she’s so flustered.

Hide and Seek - Tyler Owens x Reader

come participate in tyler owens night !

Seeing Tyler Owens while out pumping gas was all you'd needed to know that you weren't the type of person to be capable of dating him. He was all outgoing smiles, signatures thrown here and there to an adoring crowd, and you'd tucked your head to your chest as if it would make the tank fill faster to your rental car.

Well, truck, really, because that had been the only vehicle the agency hadn't rented out yet. You'd needed the truck for only a day, just to get to work and back when your car was in the shop, but its gaudy red exterior had caught Tyler's attention and he'd called over to you from the opposite end of the station.

"Hey there, Red. Nice truck you got."

You'd never know scrutiny like you came to know when his entire crew of both teammates and fans turned to watch you, and he seemed to realize that you weren't up for all of the attention.

"We're breaking for ten," He'd called, and evidently that was enough to let his gaggle of fans disperse until their leader was ready to rev his engine again.

He'd hopped down from his own red truck with the stomp of boots on concrete, and you turned back to the pump desperately hoping he wouldn't talk to you. Unfortunately, a group of three people, him and two of his crew, started for you. You'd felt your heart rate pick up but the second they started to move with him he'd shoved them away, a playful maneuver but one that clearly said back off. That's how he'd gotten you alone, ducking his own head to speak with you instead of looking down his nose at you.

"Sorry if I freaked you out there. Didn't mean to get'cha all that attention if you didn't want it. This yours?"

He had whacked the side of the truck so hard you'd been unsure whether the rental agency was going to return it without hassling you for damages.

After a short conversation about the perils of emergency oil changes on a Monday morning, you'd left with Tyler's number that you'd been too scared to text until three days later, as well as a nagging feeling that you were the wrong sort of person to be talking to him.

You still feel it now, when he turns over in his bed to stare at you with his pretty eyes. You feel so terribly bashful even though you've been looking into the same eyes for three months now. You feel your face heating up against his pillow, and even in his barely-awake state he knows you're getting shy when you start adjusting yourself beneath the blankets.

"You're starin' at the sheets again," He observes, a soft smile on his face, "You're tappin' out already? We just woke up."

"I'm just cold," You lie, shifting the blankets around until you can handle meeting his eyes again. When you look up they're even more intense for the grin he's giving you, kind-hearted but all-seeing.

"You're still shy, even when it's just us, darlin'?"

"I'm more shy when it's just us," You laugh, just as honest as it is shaky, "Then there's no one else you're looking at but me."

"I'm starin' at you no matter who else is in the room." He murmurs, and when it only makes your bashfulness worse, he laughs gently and reaches out to pull you across the sheets towards him.

"C'mere. Can't have you runnin' away from me this early in the mornin'."

You allow yourself to be nestled quite snugly into his chest, but before you can relax you must allow yourself a moment's more mortification when you remember that he's bare-chested in bed.

"I can feel your cheeks burnin' up," Tyler laughs, and you feel his words more than you hear them as his chest shakes with laughter against your face, "Oh, baby, you're such a sweet little thing. How long is it gonna take for you to stop blushin' when we kiss?"

"How long are you gonna stay so handsome for?" You ask meekly into his chest.

You're gently, but unceremoniously pulled from his chest as he cups your face, dipping down to nudge his nose against yours.

"You're a flirt." He accuses, grinning from ear-to-ear, "You're a bold, brazen flirt and you're hidin' behind that shy demeanor, aren't you? Shit, now you're makin' me blush, darlin'."

"It's true," You breathe, laughing along though yours is more air than sound, "I just get shy. Like I forget just how handsome you are until you stare at me and then I get all shy again."

"Can't be nearly as handsome as you are beautiful, sweet thing." He murmurs, dipping down even further to press his lips to yours, morning breath and all, "But I've got enough boldness for the both of us. So if you need to hide after every kiss," He fondly notes the way you've planted yourself back in his chest, face ablaze, "Then I'll always be there to coax you back out afterwards. Deal?"

"Deal." You decide, but you're speaking into his chest so it's muffled.

He says nothing, but you feel a soft press of his lips to the crown of your head, and his pinky reaches down to interlock with yours where it rests against his chest, a promise sealed with a kiss.

[garbinge]

HARMONY AFTER THE STORM

Tyler Owens x F!Reader // Word Count: 2.7k Summary: After a long day, you wind down back at the motel and share a sweet moment at the parking lot bonfire with Tyler Owens. Warnings: All my fics are 18+ regardless of content. Fluff. Established relationship. Light angst (based on details of the heaviness of storm chasing). No use of y/n. A/N: Trying out somethin a liiiil new layout wise for my fics! Tyler Owens brain rot is in full effect and this fluffy little number makes my heart warm.

Your phone speaker hummed as music vibrated against the bathroom sink while you washed the day off in the shower. The motel’s water pressure wasn’t the best, but you weren’t complaining, you were happy there was hot water and soap left. You were always the last of the crew to shower, while that ran the risk of running out of hot water, it also awarded you the most peaceful shower. Everyone was gone, outside gathered around bonfires, maybe fixing up equipment. Point was, it left you alone to decompress with your music and sometimes you’d sneak a shower beer in as well, you were a southern girl after all. 

After a day of chasing storms, getting dirt practically embedded into your skin, the chaos of all the voices, the engines, the winds, this was your peace, your grounding. The soft music buzzing as you swayed back and forth as the water fell down your body. Washing down the drain along with the dirty water was all your anxiety from the day. While you loved chasing tornadoes, you also fully were aware of the effect it had on your psyche. You weren’t as easy as the others in the crew. Boone loved the thrill, he was crazy in the best way possible. Lilly was a free-spirit, she would go wherever the winds blew her and thrive effortlessly. Dani and Dexter, they were too smart for their own good, every equation, every problem, they’d smile through finding the solution. And Tyler, well, he was a good combination of it all while also just plainly and simply loving it. The clouds, the storms, he found beauty in them. For him it was passion.  For you, you did enjoy it, the thrill of it all, the problem solving, the fact that it kept you on your toes moving.  And you couldn’t lie, the storms were fucking beautiful when you really looked at them. But for you the reasoning was more difficult. You wanted to help. But that came with a heavy burden, but for you helping outweighed all those bad moments. That’s how it was for everyone in the crew, you just felt like the mental images of wreckage stayed with you a little longer than everyone else. Which is why these showers were your favorite, it helped you process it all. 

“Hey baby, it’s just me!” Tyler called out as he entered the motel room. “Just lookin’ for Lilly’s drone repair case!” His eyes were looking around the room, there were tons of bags and things scattered across the floor, the beds, and anything resembling a table. His announcement out to you was just so he didn’t startle you with his presence, but he knew very well how important that end of the day shower was to you which is why he wasn’t paying much attention to the open door of the bathroom. 

Between the music on your phone and the shower you didn’t hear him come in. Just continued your swaying, letting the water bounce off your face. As the song changed, you began to mumble along, your voice echoing against the bathroom acoustics despite you only lowly singing with the speaker. 

As Tyler bent down to grab the case, his eyebrows furrowed, the left side of his lips twitched up in a smile, his mouth open as he let out a whispered chuckle. There was a lot crossing his mind at the moment. It was obvious you hadn’t heard him come in, not because you were singing but because you were singing and hadn’t acknowledged him. As he heard you mumbling the country music from damn near a decade ago he couldn’t help but grin. It was music you’d both listen to when you first started dating. The song was one he hadn’t heard in ages but when it filled his ears now, and your voice joined along with it, he couldn’t wipe the grin from his face. His head turned towards the bathroom door that was wide open as he stood up straight, the drone case now in his hand resting at his side. The frosted shower curtain tried its best to censor out what was behind it, but your blurred silhouette could still be seen as you moved your hips back and forth to the beat. That grin on Tyler's grin didn’t fade, if anything it grew bigger. Dropping the case on the bed before walking over to the bathroom, he leaned his shoulder on the open door frame as his arms crossed, and his right foot crossed over the left. Seeing you like this made his heart happy, he was no stranger to the weight your storm chasing days had on you. His mind couldn’t help but jump back to those first few years of your relationship, ones that were littered with memories of late night drives, line dancing and stepping on eachother’s feet, camping out in the bed of his truck in the middle of the Arkansas farmland plains. It was crazy that all this time had passed and you hadn’t done any of the things that made you fall in love with each other for what now he realized felt like a really long time. Your lives were consumed with this and while he knew you didn’t mind, it didn’t stop his own from wandering. His head fell down with one more smile, opting to not say anything to you and ruin your post-chase ritual. Pushing off the door frame, he grabbed the case and left the motel room to rejoin the group outside. 

Your hair was still damp from the shower, but you had fresh clothes on and felt like a new person. Quickly you tossed your shoes on, grabbed your phone from the bathroom sink and made your way down the stairs to join the crew. At this point, they had all gathered around the bonfire, leaving the rest of the repairs and work for tomorrow. Guitars of some of the chasers from other groups were playing as the groups gathered with their beers and mingled. It was one of your favorite things about being on the road like this, just random people joining together all in the common interest of storms. But these moments weren't always about twisters, they were about comradery, they were about friendship, laughs. It was memories in the making.

As you reached into the cooler, you pulled out two cans of beer. The condensation and melted ice falling off them in drops as you made your way closer to the bonfire circle. While there weren't many empty seats left around the fire, you knew you always had one reserved for you. You spotted Tyler before you even trekked down the stairs of the motel, his laugh was loud and could be heard from miles away. Your eyes had found him in the crowd almost immediately so once you were on the ground level, all you needed to do was make your way over to him. 

“Hey.” It came out as a whisper in his ear while leaning over the back of the chair he was reclined slightly back on. Your hands fell down against his chest, the cold beers you got for both of you were resting against him now. He stopped talking and looked up at you, his hand instinctively reaching up your arms and guiding you to sit down in his lap which you did without hesitation.

“Hey country girl.” His left hand caught your back as you moved down onto his legs, his other hand resting over your legs that dangled off the side of him as well as the chair. 

As your face scrunched up in a humorous and unclear look, you adjusted yourself in his lap, Tyler providing you support as you did so. 

“Country girl?” You questioned him, still confused as to what he meant. You were a lot of things, nickname wise, to him. He’d come up with something for everything over the years but this was one you hadn’t heard. 

He didn’t answer you, just smiled and placed a quick kiss on your arm before taking one of the beers from your hands to crack open before continuing his conversation from before you arrived.

And if that wasn’t enough, Lilly’s voice was taking you away from even thinking about what Tyler had said. “We fixed the drone!”

Tyler's head was resting on the side of your arm, chatting with the person to his left, although to you it was behind. Your time was being occupied by leaning forward a bit to talk with Lilly who was in the seat to Tyler’s right. She was catching up on the details with Cairo, the drone that had been just as much a part of your crew as each human member. You were so invested in the conversation that you almost missed the familiar strumming in the faint distance. It took you a few seconds but your head turned and took in the guitar players nodding and tapping their feet to the song you were just singing to while you showered. 

Your lips began to curve up, you felt Tyler’s hand move up your back, rubbing it over your shirt. As you looked down at him, your smile still only slightly curved and your eyes knowingly doing all the talking for you, his own grin widened and he looked down away from your gaze with a laugh. 

“Tyler Owens, were you spying on me?” You whispered it, only wanting this to be a moment between the two of you. 

“It’s possible.” He cheesed even harder as he looked back up into your gaze again. 

With a shake of your head, you looked away so you could roll your eyes before nestling in closer to him. Your side was falling against his chest, but your head found its comfortable position rested on his shoulder as you sunk down a bit more. “You told them to play this?” 

“I did.” He said it so matter of fact while looking over at the guitar players, his hands coming around you tighter as he held you as close to him as possible. “I came in to grab somethin’ for Lilly. Called out to you and everythin’.” His shoulders moved your face up and down as he shrugged. “Just as I was about to leave I heard this song start, and some pretty little voice joinin’ along with it.” You felt yourself get a little warm as he said it, a mix of fluster and a little embarrassment. “Got me thinkin’ about when we first started hangin’ out.” 

“S’why I listen to it. It reminds me of you.” You knew Tyler felt a little warm in the cheeks too. 

Both of you closed your eyes and just let the music consume you. His head relaxing slightly on yours as you both slightly moved to the beat. You felt his lips against your temple a couple times as the song went on. Each one saying how much you meant to him. 

As the song began to wind down, Tyler hummed. “We should do some of the old stuff we used to do again.” 

You let out a slight snort, one that made Tyler laugh as well as he waited for some explanation. “Tornado wranglers by day and country line dancers by night?” 

“Was talkin’ more about the truck bed camping and late night drives.” While both of you had done the line dancing thing, it by far wasn’t your favorite event. Thinking about it, you both might have gotten more injured there than you did chasing tornadoes. 

“We could do that.” Agreeing, you still kept your eyes closed shut, enjoying the last bits of the song, reimagining the old memories you shared while now thinking of how you could make them new. “Would be a nice change of pace.” 

“I could join you next time in the shower, too. If you’re just looking for a change of pace.” His eyebrows raised as he opened his one eye to peek over at you for your reaction. 

“Could work.” A smirk played at your lips in response. It was then that you realized the song was starting over and you opened your eyes to look at Tyler as your brows grew closer together. “How many times did you ask them to play it?” You were sitting up now, trying to figure out what Tyler was up to.

His arms were still wrapped around your body despite you moving up. “Told ‘em to play until you danced with me.” 

With a similar eye roll as before, you stood up now, your hands filling the space where his just were on your hips in a slight show of attitude. Those damn blue green eyes were looking up at you with the most tender and sweet look attached to them. One that you couldn’t bear to let down so you extended your hand out for him to take it. “Let’s go, Owens.” 

His hand gripped around yours in seconds and when he stood up, he raised his arm with yours to twirl you around until you spun against his chest. Your free hand raising up to brace for impact on his pecks. “We gotta work on your balance if we’re gonna be going line dancing.” He teased you before starting to walk with you practically connected to his chest to a more open area of the lot. After a couple steps, he was turning his body away from you to lead you through the crowd, his hand still connected with yours as you trailed behind him. Once the more open area was in your midst, he turned towards you and you wrapped your arm over his own so your hand was resting on his shoulder but you were leaning more into him than a more traditional slow dance hand placement. Your other hand still hadn’t let go of his own even as the swaying began, but you did feel his other arm caress your lower back to the beat, not only in a romantic way but one that kept you both moving on rhythm. This wasn’t where you expected your night going, but you were damn enjoying it, that was for sure. 

“I know this is hard on you.” His words weren’t the ones you were expecting, so as your fingers moved from his shoulders to get tangled in his blonde hair, you frowned despite knowing exactly what he was saying and looked down to make a joke out of it.

“Pretty sure I haven’t stepped on your foot once yet.” 

“No,” he laughed before getting serious again, “I just meant, I know the chase, it can wear you down.” 

You nodded in agreement but shrugged up at him, your fingers moving from his hair to lightly trace his cheek. “Stuff like this makes it easier.” 

He dipped his head in acknowledgment of your words before letting the music take over for a bit, but you weren’t going to leave it there. You wanted him to really understand that you meant what you said. 

“You know you still keep me on my toes, Owens.” You spoke to him, still shocked by how the night had progressed. 

“Good, because I don’t need you stepping on mine.” He looked down when you accidentally misstepped causing both of you to come closer together in laughs. He drew you closer, the embrace was one that spoke so much with such a small gesture. It was reassurance, the feeling of never wanting to let you go or let go of the memories you two shared over the years either. 

And that’s when you rested your head on him, now with your bodies completely against each other, your arms wrapped around his neck, realizing this moment would be added to that list. To seal its impression you lifted your head to look up at Tyler, your eyes moving from his to his lips and then brought your interlocked fingers to the nape of his neck to bring his face closer to yours. The soft, intimate kiss was your souvenir from this moment, your way of embedding this memory right along with your other cherished ones.

Dividers by @realitycanbewhateveridesire ♥️ 🌪️ Twisters Taglist: @drabbles-mc @justreblogginfics @kmc1989 @cinderellasmissingshoes (let me know if you'd like to be added!)

[munsonsmixtapes]

wb tyler owens meeting a girl in a small town him and the crew are stopping in. he falls in deep with the idea of her while she’s acting like he isn’t all that until she becomes jealous when his attention turns from her during a certain fan interaction 💝

Tyler Owens x fem!reader

To say you didn’t like Tyler was an understatement. You loathed him. He was everything that you didn’t like in a man: arrogant, cocky, and seemingly very self involved. You saw the way he interacted with women, trying to reel them in with his flirty words, only to get them into bed and never call them again when he was done.

You knew that the whole “nice guy” thing was a facade and could see right through him even though others couldn’t. And Tyler liked that about you. Loved it, even. He found it refreshing that you weren’t throwing yourself at him, even finding it hot that you weren’t into him like that.

He wanted to try to win your affections, but knew that wasn’t going to work on you. He just let you dislike him, still being nice to you no matter what insults you threw his way. But he could see what he was wearing you down, your jabs becoming less frequent and at one point, he could have sworn that he even saw you smile.

One thing that worked for sure, though, was making you jealous. He knew that if you saw him with someone else, it would make you see red. So when his usual group of fans surrounded him, he’d turn up the flirtation when he knew you were watching.

And your jealous side was hot. Tyler loved seeing you all riled up, the way your face would screw up in anger and how you’d just pretend that he didn’t exist all together. He loved the way you talked to him with all of that attitude, not so subtly telling him how upset you were.

You stood by his truck, leaning against the driver’s side door as you waited for him to come out of the bar. A group of women were following him as he pulled his keys out of his pocket. He had nicely tried to ask then to leave him alone, but to no avail.

His eyes locked on yours and a wide smile broke out onto his face as he approached you. You didn’t know why you did it. Maybe it was to make the girls go away, but it was mostly because you wanted to.

Before you could stop yourself, you pressed your lips to his in a rushed, rough kiss. He gasped into your mouth, but quickly melted into you, smiling against your lips.

His hands moved to your waist and he pulled you closer before wrapping his arms around you. He turned you around, pressing you against the truck as he dipped his tongue into his mouth, the kiss getting way too heated for a bar parking lot.

You leaned to the side slightly to find that the women had left and you smiled to yourself because your plan had actually worked.

“Was that just to get them to leave me alone or did you actually want to kiss me?” He winked and you hated how that was all it took to get you wet.

“Both,” you replied, pressing your lips to his. “I’m sorry. I should have told you the truth.”

“Hey, no,” he said, bringing his hand up to cup your cheek. I don’t want you to feel bad. I just-I just wanted to make sure that you wanted this as much as I do.”

“You want me?” Tyler just laughed at that. Wasn’t it obvious? He thought he had been pretty clear with his intention.

“Since the day I laid eyes on you, darlin’,” he smiled and you were so close to just melting into the floor. “Now give daddy some sugar.”

“As long as you promise not to ever call yourself that again.”

“Deal,” he nodded and pulled you to him, pressing a kiss to your lips. “And can I just say, I never really pegged you as the jealous type.”

“Oh, shut up, Owens,” you rolled your eyes and pulled him in for another kiss.

[twistersobsessed]

hi love! i love your writing so so much! especially your scott works. i’ve literally been obsessed with him since the movie came out

i was wondering if you could maybe write something like scott and reader are in an relationship and she’s super sensitive while he’s super mean.

one day he’s just in a bad mood (idk maybe he couldn’t get good enough data on a storm) and he’s kinda taking it out on her and it ends up really hurting her feelings so he has to make it up her

<333

Bad Moods & Sensitivity | Scott x Reader

A/N: Ahh thank you bestie! I’m so obsessed with Scott too 😭

Scott was in an absolutely foul mood. You had no idea why. When you came up to him at breakfast and wrapped your arms around him, he’d shrugged you off. It hurt your feelings but you decided to respect him and give him some space. Scott’s bad mood was affecting your mood though, it killed you that you couldn’t love on your boyfriend.

Storm Par was stopped at a gas station, and of course, Tyler Owens and his crew were stopped at the same one. Scott and Javi were talking by the truck, and since Scott wasn’t paying you any attention, you made your way towards the gas station’s convenience store.

“(Name)!” You turned to see who was calling you to find Tyler, standing by his truck with Boone, waving you over. You smiled and made your way to them. “Hey guys.” You’d always been friendly to Tyler and his people but you didn’t often get called over to talk to them. “What’s up?”

“You look sad,” Tyler frowned. “Everything okay with you and Clipboard?”

Clipboard. Tyler’s name for Scott. Your face fell.

“Aw, I take that as a no?” Boone chimed in.

You shook your head. “It’s nothing really, he’s just in a really bad mood today. Shrugged me off this morning and hasn’t talked to me since.”

Boone gave Scott a dirty look while Tyler hummed. “You’re too pretty to deal with that attitude,” Tyler said.

You shrugged. “He’s not usually like this.”

“Really?” Boone raised an eyebrow.

You understood why they didn’t like Scott, but you also weren’t going to stand there and listen to them talk badly about your boyfriend. “I’m uh, gonna go get a snack. See you guys out there!” You politely excused yourself. They bid you goodbye and you entered the store, oblivious to the angry set of eyes on you.

Inside, you bought yourself an energy drink, and you bought Scott a pack of his favorite gum, hoping to cheer him up a little bit. You paid and left, striding towards Scott and Javi. Javi smiled brightly at you, but Scott didn’t even look at you.

“Babe, I got you your gum,” you said softly, holding out the pack. Scott turned to you and you were taken aback by the anger in his eyes. “Go give it to the hillbillies,” he spat. Your face crumpled. “What?”

“Since you like flirting with the competition so much.” Scott’s voice dripped with venom.

“Scott…”

“Shut up, (Name), I’m having a shitty ass day already and then you go and get all friendly with Owens and his little sidekick, I don’t want to hear it.”

Tears begin to pour down your cheeks. You hadn’t even felt them well up. Scott’s face softened. Javi pulled you into a hug, glaring at Scott. “That was so unnecessary,” he told him as he held you. “I think you should walk away for a bit.”

Scott bit his tongue and did as Javi said. Javi soothed you until you calmed down. You threw the gum in the trash.

For the rest of the day, you clung to Javi’s side and avoided Scott. That night, you made sure Javi booked you your own motel room; you didn’t feel like sharing with Scott. You sat alone on the bed, knees tucked up against your chest. It was quiet and lonely without Scott but you’d be damned if you sought him out.

A knock shook you out of your stupor. You sniffed, and slid off the bed, creeping over to the door and looking through the peephole. “Go away, Scott,” you said irritably when you saw who it was. “Baby,” his voice was pleading. “Please. I’m so fucking sorry. Let me in.”

You sighed, but opened the door a crack to make eye contact with him.

Scott’s heart hurt when he saw how tired and sad you looked. He wanted nothing more than to throw open the door and take you into his arms, but he respected your space.

“What do you want?” Your voice was flat.

“Can I come in?”

You considered it for a moment before nodding slightly and opening the door all the way to allow Scott inside. You stepped away from Scott as he stepped towards you. He shut the door behind him, then to your surprise, dropped to his knees.

“My behavior today, and what I said… unacceptable. I am so, so sorry. It doesn’t matter that I was in a mood or that I was jealous, it’s not an excuse. It never should have happened. I’m sorry I brushed you off at breakfast, I’m sorry I ignored you all day, and I’m really fucking sorry for what I said at the gas station. You know I don’t like how Tyler looks at you.”

You swallowed, considering his apology. “I don’t know, Scott,” you sighed.

He suddenly looked fearful. “Do you want to break up?”

The question hung heavy in the air. If you had more respect for yourself, maybe you’d have left him for how he treated you today. But a deeper, more sensitive part of you, couldn’t bear to throw away an entire year together for one really bad day.

“No,” you finally responded, and Scott’s shoulders sagged in relief. “But… I don’t know. You really fucking hurt me, that was really fucking unfair.”

Scott reached out towards you and you reluctantly took his hands. He pulled you into him. Even kneeling, he was so tall that his head was level with your chest. He looked up at you with reverence in his bright blue eyes, his hands caressing your waist.

“I love you so much, (Name). I will never let a bad mood be an excuse to treat you like that ever again.”

He paused. “And I’ll eat you out as soon as you can stand to look at my face again.”

Scott gave phenomenal head.

You blushed. It made you giggle a little and Scott smiled hopefully. You looked at him for a minute before smiling back. “Okay.”

Scott’s face lit up. He stood from his knees and picked you up instead, your legs wrapping around his hips. Scott pressed his lips to yours gently but eagerly. “I promise I’ll make it up to you,” he murmured against your mouth.

“You better.”

[piratefishmama]

Nest | Part 16

A Steddie A/B/O ficlet

“WHAT THE HELL KIND OF OPERATION ARE YOU RUNNIN HERE?!”

Steve felt… numb. He was tired. He was hungry. He felt… lost. It’d happened so fast.

No amount of rational thought could have fixed the conclusion Eddie’s confused mind had come to. No explanation could have cut through the panic, the fear, the pain, that radiated from the omega, the air that’d been filled with such a sweet desire replaced far quicker with pain, anger, confusion and fear he’d been choking on it, the air vents unable to clear it quick enough, he’d been struggling to talk, struggling to breathe when the doors had opened.

Security had gotten him out. A Beta dragged him out by the scruff of his shirt while another two worked to keep Eddie's panicked, inconsolable self corralled away from him.

It happened so quickly. And now he sat there, his back against the wall, sat on the floor, head in his arms, a patch on his neck to mask the stank of Alpha negativity that'd undoubtedly have choked anyone in his immediate vicinity, a scrap of fabric in his hand, and Robin beside him, unusually quiet, her arm wrapped around his shoulders as they listened to the eldest Munson react as any guardian would in this situation.

He’d left his nephew at a clinic to be taken care of, under medical advisement, had undoubtedly spent the majority of the week worried sick, and then receive a call from clinic security claiming something had gone wrong. Wayne Munson had turned up in a rusted old pick up truck that screeched as it pulled up into the carpark ten minutes after security had completely ignored Owens's instructions to leave it alone, and did their job in contacting him.

nobody could blame them, it was their job to contact Eddie's next of kin should something go wrong.

It all happened so fast.

He couldn’t see Eddie. Eddie who was still in recovery, Eddie who still needed him. Eddie, who wasn’t done with his heat yet and needed to be taken care of and soothed by his alpha for at least another day or so, it wasn’t healthy to cut it short there.

Eddie still needed him. He could go into another spiral, he could hurt himself, he could—

He couldn’t hear Owens replies, could only hear Wayne Munson, the man rightfully furious that they’d allowed an alpha into his nephews room when the man was at his most vulnerable. It didn’t matter that Eddie was a grown adult man, it didn’t matter that he didn’t need a guardian.

And it didn’t matter that nothing had happened. Eddie thought something had, and in the state he was in, nothing could convince him otherwise.

The door opened, both Steve and Robin looked up in unison, both shrinking back as Wayne looked down at them both with understandable fury, nothing they could even argue against, and turned to Owens with a clipped “I want my nephew here in two minutes ready to go” Owens opened his mouth to argue, hell Steve opened his mouth to argue but Wayne simply held up his hand cutting them both off, “I don’t give two flyin fucks what you lot think, my nephew is coming home. Now. The worst is over, I’ll handle the rest.” Steve shrunk back under his harsh glare, too exhausted to formulate a reason as to why that was a bad idea.

It’d be fine. Wayne was family. The worst was over he was right, and sure the next twenty four to forty eight hours could go in either direction, he had to trust that Wayne could handle it.

That didn’t stop him from scrambling to his feet the moment Wayne turned to walk away though, desperation in the voice he barely managed to find “W-wait! Wait, please… Mr. Munson, I swear… I didn’t hurt him, an I know—I know that’s hard to believe, I get that, but—but could you… could you give him this, at least just—it’ll help, it’ll help him” Wayne looked at him through cold eyes, his expression damn near thunderous, silent for a moment, he dipped his gaze to the scrap of fabric in Steve’s hands, the towel.

Just a little towel.

A towel Eddie had clung to throughout the night, so close to his face, a comfort. Something still drenched in Steve. Wayne looked down at it with narrowed eyes and for a moment, Steve thought he’d refuse.

That he’d shoot him down without mercy, but something in him just couldn’t seem to do that.

That cold gaze softened, just a little, his shoulders relaxed as if acceptance had won some kind of internal battle inside of him, then wordlessly he took the towel with a subtle nod, and made his way out to wait at the front.

Security would bring Eddie out. He wasn’t a danger to anyone but himself in the final stage, not really. The final stage of a heat was just… recovery. An Omega needed comfort, they needed something or someone familiar, in shared heat situations they needed their alpha to take care of them or they could spiral.

They needed to be pampered. To be reassured. To be loved.

Every fibre of Steve’s being ached to be the person doing that for Eddie. He felt untethered. Unmoored, lost. He needed to be doing something, but he couldn’t and there was nothing even close to that something to fill the gap not doing it left behind.

He didn’t even get to say goodbye. Barely caught a glimpse of the Omega as he was guided through the barren halls toward the exit, dressed in clothes that’d no doubt be uncomfortable, itchy, scratchy on his sensitive skin, his head down never once looking up, never once looking his way.

The halls had been cleared of staff for Eddie’s safety. He still smelled like an Omega in heat.

It shouldn’t have happened like that. Eddie should have still been in his room, should have been able to wake up peacefully in his nest, should have woken up to a warm, comforting embrace, but instead it’d been panic. Fear, and confusion and Steve didn’t even know if it’d been avoidable.

Maybe if another alpha had been there, maybe if it wasn’t him. Maybe everything would have progressed as it normally should have.

“Go home Steve” Owens placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, voice so soft Steve barely caught it. “You should uh… take some time off, okay?” Steve barely managed to tear his gaze away from the doors Eddie had walked through, but when he did it was with eyes full of unspoken panic. “You’re not in trouble, Steve. We kept watch all night you… you’re an exemplary Alpha, truly a credit to your kind… your self-restraint is… well, I wouldn’t have believed it had I not seen it for myself, but I think it's best if you still take some time off. Use some of those holiday days you’ve built up, paid, of course, I think two weeks should cover it.”

“But—”

Owens held up his hand to silence him, before turning to Robin, who’d been doing her best to keep Steve grounded with her presence alone. It worked. Kind of. He wasn’t stinking up the hallway, but that could have probably been due to the patch covering his scent glands rather than anything she was doing. “Miss Buckley, take him home would you?”

“I uh… I can’t drive but—but sure, yeah, I’ll uhm, I’ll get him home. Should I come right back, orr—”

“Take the rest of the day. You’ve earned it.” She hadn't actually gone home much like Owens, so technically she'd have been due to start a new shift in around half an hour, but... alright.

And then he was gone, walking back into his office, and closing the door behind him, leaving both Robin and Steve alone in the hallway, none-the-wiser about what he was going to be getting up to in there, but neither having enough energy to really care.

“I told him after his heat we could… that we could—” be together, that all Eddie had to do was wait one more day, one more. And they could be together, that it’d be okay then… “I promised him, Robbie…”

“I know, Stevie… let’s just get you home.”

"...Okay." As if he had any other choice.

Part 18

[inamindfarfaraway]

Hnnng dehumanisation in Spies are Forever. Curt's “not a man, [he's] property of the United States government". Tatiana wasn't a child, she was an “instrument of war”, a “killing machine". It’s particularly poignant that Barb calls Curt property of their government, a cog in the machine, because she knows that she’s in the same boat, and in fact socially inferior to him as both a woman and a support worker to his more prestigious career. She herself has always seen and valued him as a person and is constantly trying to make him reciprocate. But he initially views her as just a cool gadget dispenser. Technology appears to be her only means of asserting her worth and earning people’s attention, which might be why she’s working on a global information network, essentially the internet - the ultimate technological platform for human connection and collaboration. Cynthia is so committed to overcoming her human vulnerability in order to be the best tool her country could possibly ask for that she poisons herself every day to build up an immunity. One of the villains is a literal Nazi who uses a literal puppet. And the other is Owen.

Owen's evil vision is "turning everyone into a spy", aka property. Instruments for him to conduct. Creating a global surveillance network, because the internet has as much power to distance and isolate people as to unite them. The machine failed him when he was a cog in it, so he aims to replace it with a more efficient one and control it this time; he cannot comprehend of any ethical improvement to or dismantling of the machine itself. His problem with spies is that they contaminate the ruthless political mechanisms with messy, fallible humanity... and vice versa. Agent Mega messed up the mission because he was human; Curt left his boyfriend for dead because he was a spy. You can’t be both. Person or tool. So Owen chooses the one that can’t be hurt. He willingly becomes a tool of CHIMERA, a living weapon. He kills and tortures hundreds of people, considers himself an actor in a story and others expendable characters, does everything he can to detach himself from ideas of personhood. “Who needs spies when a box in a room can do your job in seconds?" Humanity is worthless. Obsolete.

Except no, it isn't. Curt and his allies proves it. After the prologue, Curt simultaneously makes Owen’s mistake of binary thinking. First he wants to be purely a man, and an absolute wreck of one; then he wants to be purely the greatest spy ever, with no sentimental weaknesses. But he can’t maintain that divide. He has to be both. The team win with their skills, training and expertise and by being human - social, irrational animals, working together, loving each for the sake of it, acting spontaneously. They aren’t tools that Owen can perfectly predict and manipulate. Curt surprises him. And Owen, for all his icy calculations and grand talk, cannot escape his humanity any more than he can destroy Curt’s, as his last scene makes painfully clear. He lowers his gun like a person. His voice breaks like one. He bleeds like one. Meanwhile, Barb is a genius engineer and Tatiana is a master assassin. You’d think that their climactic moment of triumph would demonstrate Barb’s amazing technology or Tatiana’s combat skills, but instead the focus is on them simply talking to each other and even Mrs Mega. Human connection and collaboration. Human error that doesn’t negate their victory. “You can break a computer box, but you can’t break the will of a man.” That’s what Curt is. Not property. A man. He is a gay, unemployed man; Barb is a woman in STEM; Tatiana is a female ex-KGB Russian immigrant; all in the United States of America in the 1960s, a very bad time and place to be all of those things. Yet they will survive. They are not alone and they will endure. Spies are forever because they are people.

And the narrative consistently emphasises that everybody is a person! It mocks the Nazis, obviously, but even then Baron von Nazi isn’t a one-dimensional monster, he has emotions and cognitive biases and a backstory and fondness for cheeseburgers. Sergio isn’t just an interchangeable criminal, he’s a devoted family man awkwardly trying to lighten his work atmosphere. Richard Big isn’t just a crass parody, he has moral principles. We hear all kinds of characters’ thoughts and feelings: the Informant, Barb’s fellow scientists, the waiter at the casino, the guests at the gala. This affirmation that everyone has a inner life means that yes, anyone can be a spy.

[chayannesegg]

If Tubrat was being REALLY honest, his day with Ratcumber was the best day he can EVER remember. Ever ever. Ever ever ever.

Of course, that feels mean to Mordecai—that his best day ever could possibly be on a day when Mordecai was gone and he didn't know if when (the Angelic One says soon) he will be back—so he doesn't say it out loud. Doesn't even think it, really.

It's just, he was SO worried. Because Ratcumber was so nice and then he hurt her. He REALLY hurt her. On purpose. She screamed. She must have been so hurt and scared and lonely. And no one stopped him! Everyone saw it happen (like always) and didn't do ANYTHING. And it was really scary, like REALLY scary and he can't stop thinking about it. About hurting her. About doing what he was told. She should hate him forever like everyone else but he had to. He HAD to.

He can't be without Mordecai again. He can't be alone and face all the other rats who hate him and don't care about him and left him to die and want to forget he exists.

Because he's so awful and broken and he can't shut up about it because it hurts less to say everything wrong with him before anyone else can spot it on his face. Because it's worse if someone else says it first. Because Everyone knows, but only he should say it.

Mordecai doesn't say it. He's just there. He's always there for Tubbo and he doesn't leave. He never leaves. Until he was ABANDONED and left to DIE and Mordecai was lost. Because TUBRAT let him go. Because Tubrat failed. Because Tubrat didn't deserve to keep him.

He has to earn him back. He'll do WHATEVER the Ancient Ones Angelic Ones want. So he's not alone anymore.

And Ros knows. Ros knows. She gets it! She GETS it. She also doesn't want to be alone. She was a companion to a HUMAN. She lost them. She wants to GO BACK.

It's so scandalous he can barely imagine it. Rats don't mix with humans. Humans are SCARY. They're scary. They're so scary that is Tubrat is willing to hide in an attic with rats who hate him just to avoid them. He can't imagine how Ratcumber feels SAFE around one.

But he can imagine being alone after losing a friend. And no one caring, well knowing. No one else KNOWS Ratcumber is missing a human. Because Ratcumber doesn't tell people. She keeps her worst parts secret like Shelby keeps her worse parts secret.

Which Tubrat also can't imagine because it's like anytime he tries to keep something bad a secret it seems to burst out of him like bees escaping a hit hive.

(Unless he needed to be sneaky, like right now with the plan to hide Ros' sacrifice. Then he can be sneaky because he HAS to be. No one will notice he's up to something until it's too late. Owen and Munch and Ratman know NOTHING. Totally. Definitely. For sure.)

Of course, the other rats would PROBABLY care if Ratcumber told them she was missing her human. If they got over their fear and anger. Because Ros is good and kind and nice. The rats would understand that Ros wants her human back. They would want her to feel safe and happy (unlike him).

But Ros DOESN'T tell the other rats. Because Ros is scared. And lonely. And she doesn't want to live in a place where everyone hates her for being friends with a human.

And that's.... awful, really. How scared and lonely and desperate Ratcumber must be all the time. And it makes Tubrat's stomach twist to think about. Especially because her sadness makes him HAPPY.

Because she GETS it.

Gets him.

The Angelic One was RIGHT.

She was the PERFECT sacrifice.

Even though it hurt her. Even though it was scary. Even though it felt bad.

Because now she understands. That Tubbo's not crazy. That the Great One ANGELIC ONE can save them. That it was necessary.

And this is good for Ratcumber. Because she gets her friend back (maybe, no definitely, the Angelic One wouldn't lie).

But also it's good for TUBRAT. Because now it's almost like he has a friend.

Ratcumber talked to him! And listened to him! And built a new altar with him.

She made it better. They worked together and made a BEAUTIFUL altar that the Angelic Ones will LOVE and then he'll get back Mordecai and Ros will find her human and everything will be so GOOD.

Because Ros gets him now. She gets HIM. Tubrat. No one ever has before. She saw the very worse parts of him. Really saw them. Felt them. Was hurt because of his desperation. His need. His weakness.

And she DIDN'T leave.

She talked, listened, built with him. Even more than that she PLAYED with him.

Ros played with him.

SHE PLAYED WITH HIM.

No one plays with Tubrat. But Ros DID. She ran around (not away from him) together with him and lied to other rats about doing a play and teaching Tubrat how to talk to rats.

And It was FUN. It was FUNNY. Tubbo laughed SO much it hurt. He didn't know laughter could DO that.

And it was true. Kinda.

This was the longest time Tubrat has EVER spent with another rat in a LONG time. And it did feel like Ros was showing him how it works. And she wasn't scared off when he did something weird.

Ros played with him and he played back and nothing went wrong. No one yelled at him. No one caught them.

(Which, by the way, Ratman didn't CATCH them. He just said scary words but he knows nothing. They can fix it. They can fix it TOGETHER. Because Ros GETS it.)

And the play. The play! Owen sounded like he wanted to buy tickets. So maybe they WILL put on a play. To keep up the act. They'll HAVE to do Ratcumber's Shake-Spears thing. Even though it's probably stupid. But, it might be fun.

Maybe they could have Beky join too once she's been sacrificed. And then he'll have TWO friends. Almost friends. Kinda friends.

No, THREE friends.

Because then Mordecai would be back (right?). And Tubbo REALLY won't be alone anymore.

And, well, Ros' human still sounds scary, but maybe they would watch from a distance.

And Beky would invite El.

The point is today was a GOOD day. Ros GETS him. He ALMOST has Mordecai back. Nothing can go wrong now. And all the bad-scary-awful things that had to happen don't matter anymore.

They only have ONE more sacrifice to do, and Beky will WANT to do it. To save her wife. So it won't even be THAT bad or scary. He doesn't even have to do it. Ros will do it and he just has to WATCH.

Tubrat just has to do ONE more thing and then maybe everything will stop feeling so bad.

Then EVERYTHING will be PERFECT.

And no one can stop it from happening.

Right?

[flowercrowngods]

yearning hours (b-side) — in which being in love can feel like the greatest tragedy of all until you learn that you’re not alone (or: bravery, despite everything)

🤍 also on ao3

Steve comes to the quarry when he needs to think. He comes to the quarry when he needs to not think. When he needs to feel this rush of adrenaline that feels so much like monsters are real and the world has turned upside down. Except he isn’t going to die here, sitting on the cold ground, legs dangling over the abyss.

He’s not going to die, but life stops for a moment all the same. 

And Steve relearns how to breathe. How to think. How to not think. While the darkness below him swallows it all. The pale light of the moon is not enough to reach the ground hundreds of feet below, or to chase away the complete and total darkness that meets his eyes when he looks down there. 

It’s all-encompassing, this darkness, the vastness of it; Steve sometimes feels like he becomes part of it. Just for an hour or two. Just for the night. 

The cold air that hits his face makes him shiver for a second, and reminds him that he used to think the darkness at the bottom of the quarry had a life of its own. Hell, maybe it does. With what they’ve seen, what they’ve fought, who’s to say there’s nothing down there? Maybe that’s what draws him here so often. 

Does the living darkness know his secrets like the darkness in his room does? Does it listen to him, does it care? They’re stupid questions, Steve knows. But they carry a hopefulness he wants to preserve. Something that survived the Upside Down, that survives the nightmares and the flashbacks and the post-traumatic stress, as Hopper and Owens call it. 

There’s something primal about sitting on the edge of such vastness, so much so that it makes his heart beat faster, his breath come shallower, like he is just a second away from falling. Like he has to savour this; this second, this moment, this life, because beyond it, around it, below it, there is only darkness. 

He takes a deep, shuddering breath and lets it all out until his lungs ache. The silence is absolute. He feels like the only person on the planet — but not in the bad, painful way that’s been hiding in the back of his mind for as long as he can remember. 

If he only breathes like this for a while longer, lets the feeling settle, lets the thoughts come and bring emotions with them, he knows that soon the tears will fall.

Tears, because he shouldn’t have to sit at the edge of the quarry in the dark of night just to be able to feel. Tears, because he forgot how to be a boy, how to be a person, about three years ago. Almost to the day. Tears, because they all did; but he’s Steve. He can’t let them see. Wouldn’t know how even if he wanted to. 

And tears, tonight, because just hours earlier, Eddie fell asleep while Steve made dinner. His arms were curled around the pillow Steve had leaned against all afternoon, and Steve just stood there in the doorway to Eddie’s room, the smell of fresh pasta mixing with that of leather, paperback books, tobacco and laundry detergent that is so purely and wonderfully Eddie that Steve just wants to catch it in a mason jar and open it whenever he needs a dose. 

Eddie had fallen asleep, and all Steve could do was look at him. Smile on his lips, ache in his heart that only grew in ferocity until all he could do was leave. Because friends don’t watch their friends sleep. Not like this. Not with their hands twitching by their sides, curled into fists to stop them from reaching out and trailing over soft, warm skin. Friends don’t… They don’t. 

So Steve left, pasta untouched. Heart unravelled. Words unspoken. 

He left and sped off until he reached the quarry, a safe place to piece himself back together again — but he doesn’t have the heart to leave out Eddie. So every time he comes here and puts the pieces of himself back together, he puts Eddie in the centre. He always does. It’s what keeps getting him in this mess. 

But it’s still the closest he’ll get to bravery after the Upside Down; admitting, if only to himself, that he likes a boy. Allowing himself to cry about it. To breathe in and breathe out and have the truth unchanged, unchallenged, undoubted.

He’s still breathing when the all-encompassing silence is interrupted, joined by the unmistakeable sound of tires on gravel. Seconds later, headlights illuminate the night, his arms, the edge of the quarry, but still not reaching beyond that. The car comes to a stop but Steve still doesn’t move, doesn’t turn around, just hopes that whoever it is will just leave him alone. 

Lights go out, the engine is killed, followed by the sound of a car door opening and being closed far too gently. 

Steve isn’t too surprised when steps approach him slowly, nor when they come to a stop beside him, chasing away some of the cold that’s been resting over him like a blanket.

Instinctively, he knows it’s Eddie. He just doesn’t know why. 

“How’d you know I’m here?” he asks into the void, still unmoving. 

“Just knew,” comes the reply, and it sounds so soft, so gentle, so understanding that Steve fears he might fall apart and have to rebuild himself once more. Twice in one night. Wouldn’t be the first time. Won’t be the last. “Why’d you leave?” 

Because otherwise I’d have crossed the distance and fallen to my knees, brushed a kiss to your forehead and told you dinner was ready. Because otherwise I’d have slid down the doorframe and watched over you, watched you, and the firework of a person that you are even in your sleep. I’d have fallen in love and I’d have fallen, fallen, fallen. So I needed to go where falling is not an option. 

Instead of saying any of that, Steve only shrugs. “Just did.” 

It’s lame and unfair, he knows, but talking to the darkness is so much easier when there’s not an audience, and Eddie just… he can’t know. Any of that. 

“Can I join you?” Eddie asks then, and Steve can hear it in his voice that he would leave if Steve said no. 

Maybe that’s why he doesn’t; just nods and scoots to the side a bit even though there’s enough room for Eddie to sit just anywhere. 

But he doesn’t sit just anywhere, no. He sits down rather clumsily — for which Steve can’t blame him, it is a little scary in the dark, and one wrong move could be your very last — and ends up with his arm and shoulder pressed to Steve‘s, their legs so close he can feel Eddie‘s warmth through the denim.

It’s too much. It’s not enough. It’s dangerous, so close to falling, and Steve scoots to the side, breaking contact. Breathing carefully.

Eddie‘s eyes are on him, he can feel it. He doesn’t react. It hurts, his entire body aches with how close he wants to be. But it’s too much, even for himself to bear. Putting all that on Eddie would be enough to take them both down to the bottom of the quarry, and lower still.

So he swallows. All the words he cannot say, all the thoughts that lump together and clog his throat.

“Are you okay, Stevie?” Eddie asks, and Steve just shrugs again.

“Sure.”

“Right,” Eddie whispers, then sighs. It’s not a heavy sigh or a judgmental one, but it makes Steve flinch all the same.

Too much. Too fucking much even unknown.

Silence falls over them, the quarry working its magic — or its curse — even on Eddie Munson. Steve wonders if it suffocates or liberates him, but he doesn’t dare to ask. It would take too much explaining for the question to make sense, too much revealing himself, too much of… Just too much.

He wants to ask. To say something. To scoot back over again, closer to Eddie, and lay his head on his shoulder, bask in his warmth and withstand the magic, the curse, the darkness.

Withstand it, because that’s what Eddie does. He is brave, despite everything.

And Steve is just the boy who sits with darkness at night because he doesn’t know how to be brave anymore, not when there’s no question of life or death. He forgot all about everyday-bravery.

But Eddie didn’t. He’s still there, still smiling and laughing and teasing his way through life and into Steve’s heart and soul.

And Steve doesn’t know what to do with it. Doesn’t know what he can do with it. Doesn’t know how to ask.

It’s no surprise, then, that it’s Eddie who does.

“What are we doing, Steve?” He sounds a bit resigned about it, and it makes Steve hide away in himself even more, focusing on the darkness beneath him rather than the light beside him — they both leave him blinded at equal measure, but one of them doesn’t ask him questions to which he doesn’t know the answer.

“What do you mean?” he asks after a while, his voice a little off. He doesn’t know what he’s feeling. Apprehension, maybe. Caught. Uncovered. Exposed.

Beside him, Eddie sighs again, just a little bit, but Steve has always hated that he keeps making people sigh. Makes him feel so fucking small, so incredibly useless.

He raises one leg from the abyss to rest his chin on his knee, because suddenly he feels so heavy that he needs the physical reminder that he’s not about to fall. One foot on the ground. Steady, secure, a great illusion for now.

“Sorry,” he whispers at last, because Eddie hasn’t said anything, has only sighed and created a silence that’s so loud it can probably be heard at the bottom of the quarry, and Steve feels like the silence is his fault this time.

“What for?”

“Dunno,” he confesses, lies, concedes as his house of cards begins to crumble for some reason. The heaviness wanders from his throat down to his heart and settles there, making a home for itself, casting out all the lightness that usually comes when he’s around Eddie.

But it seems he’s reached his breaking point. It seems he can only pretend to be okay for so long, pretend not to yearn and ache and long for intimacy and tenderness. It seems he can only put himself together again, rebuilding himself around Eddie at his centre, until it would break apart for good. Burst out of his heart, dismantle him piece by broken piece until all that’s left is a broken boy, yearning.

And so he can’t stop the tears even if he wanted to. They’re kind in their silence, streaming down his face without demand for sobs or sniffles. Just breaking free, a simple displacement reaction. Following the physics of emotions.

“Hey,” Eddie whispers, reaching out to wrap an arm around Steve’s shoulders, pulling him into his side. There’s that warmth, that touch, that gentleness he’s been craving — and there’s that sob he’s been suppressing. “Hey, Stevie, it’s okay. You’re okay. You can talk to me, you know that, right?”

He shakes his head into the warmth of Eddie’s neck, wiping dejectedly at his tears.

“No?”

“No,” he whines, sighs, groans, annoyed with himself.

“Don’t want to? Or can’t?”

Both. Neither. All at once.

He shrugs again, still leaning against Eddie.

Eddie, who turns his head slightly and brushes his lips over Steve’s hair in what can only be described as a kiss. Except, it can’t. It couldn’t. It isn’t.

Steve begins to shiver against him — maybe he’s cold, maybe he’s overwhelmed, maybe he’s both and neither and everything all at once.

“I’ve got you, Stevie.”

And then Eddie kisses his head again, and he stills.

“You can’t kiss me, Eddie,” he says, voice still thick, but steadier this time. No more sobbing, no more whining. Just a broken boy, yearning. Always, always that.

Eddie freezes where he’s holding Steve, only his arm still moves in soothing, rubbing motions — warming him, holding him, saving him. Always, always that.

“Sorry,” Eddie says this time. Except it’s wrong. It’s so wrong, and Steve leans back to look at him. It’s impossible to make out his expression in the darkness, but he tries nonetheless.

“Don’t be sorry,” he whispers. “Just…” He gestures vaguely, not quite sure what the just entails. Just mean it. Just do it right. Just don’t do it out of pity. Just leave me alone until I’m over you even though we both know I never really will be.

“Just?”

Steve shrugs. Whispers, “I don’t know.”

“Don’t hide, Stevie.” Be brave, Stevie. Be brave like me.

God, how he wishes. How he longs. How he aches.

“You don’t have to hide, not from me.”

Steve huffs and says, before he can stop himself, “Especially from you.”

Eddie pauses and Steve freaks out a little bit, even before Eddie asks, “Why?” He sounds wounded. Small. He shouldn’t sound like that. Never.

“Because you’re gonna see otherwise.”

“See what?”

That I’m completely and utterly in love with you. Besotted. Enamoured. All the big words you like to make fun of. All of them and more.

“Me.”

There’s a beat where nothing happens. Maybe time stops, maybe reality resets itself, settling in more comfortably in anticipation of vulnerability’s fallout.

And then Eddie takes his hands, reaching for them in the darkness and finding them with ease. Like he’s done it many times before. Because he has. Just never like this.

“Steve,” he begins, and Steve wants to run again. To hide, to confess to another void, and make Eddie forget this conversation ever happened. “I think I already do.”

What? No. No, you can’t.

When Steve doesn’t respond, Eddie continues, seemingly gathering himself and his thoughts as he goes. Always so much stronger, so much braver than Steve.

“I already do see you. The way you smile at me, light up the whole room with it. The way you hug me, always a little too long, but never long enough if you ask me. I see you blushing, I see you going out of your way for me, and… And I think, if you knew how to look, you’d see the same in me. Because, uh. Because I like seeing you. And I like… I like you. Not in a friends kinda way. In a way where I wanna sit beside you all night and talk about deep shit, but I wanna run my fingers through your hair when we do. I wanna play with your fingers when we do. I wanna kiss you when we do, because there’s deep, heavy, traumatic shit everywhere, but there’s also you. And I don’t want one without the other. I want you. In that exact way that I see you looking at me, wanting me, too.”

Eddie swallows, a little breathless beside him like Steve’s not choking on emotion himself.

“Tell me I’m wrong,” Eddie whispers then, pressing and desperate and knowing. “Tell me you don’t like me in a way you think you shouldn’t. Tell me I don’t see you.”

He shakes his head, slowly, frantically. “I can’t.”

“Because it’s true?”

Steve’s nodding now, just as frantic, leaving him disoriented and falling, only anchored to Eddie who’s still holding his hands.

“Yeah,” Steve gasps, rasps, whispers. “It… I’m. I don’t.” It’s he who swallows heavily now, needing a second or an eternity to process Eddie’s words. “You really mean that?”

Eddie nods. He can feel it, somehow.

“I don’t know what has you so scared,” Eddie begins. “Except the obvious, of course, but I feel like that’s only a small chunk of it. But you gotta believe me when I say that I mean it. I like you. So much it makes me stupid sometimes.”

Steve huffs, but it’s a smile this time. A real one. Tinged with sadness and heaviness and disbelief still, but a real one nonetheless.

“I wanna tell you. All of that. Everything, in my own words. And I will, but… Eddie, I’m—“ Steve starts with a quivering voice but shuts himself up before he can ruin this.

I’m broken. I’m not sure if I can let you. I’m just Steve. I’m bullshit. I’m…

“I’m tired.”

It has a double meaning, here at the quarry — but he doesn’t mean it like that. He wouldn’t. He couldn’t. He won’t.

“Can you just hold me?” It is perhaps the closest to bravery he’s going to get. Tonight, or always. But it’s enough. It can be enough.

Eddie hums and Steve can hear the smile, can feel how some of the heaviness inside him dissipates with it.

“Of course, sweetheart.”

Steve shivers again as he shifts, lying back so it’s only his legs, bent at the knee, that dangle over the abyss now. Eddie joins him, wrapping his arms around Steve’s middle and rearranging them so Steve rests half on top of him. It can’t be comfortable, but Steve doesn’t mention it.

They lie there in silence, and Steve allows himself to let go of the tension in his bones as he feels Eddie’s hands travelling across his back in a tender caress. He doesn’t quite believe it’s real, doesn’t believe he’ll get to keep it beyond this moment, and can’t quite savour it the way he wants to because surely he will lose this, too. Surely Eddie will realise and come to his senses and—

“Do you really mean it?”

“Yeah,” Eddie says, leaning up slightly to brush his lips over Steve’s temple. “Yeah, Stevie. I really, really mean it.” And then, after a while, “Will you come back home now?”

Back home. Home to Eddie and Wayne. Home, because Eddie cares and wants and bravely, bravely asks.

“Yeah,” Steve says.

Another kiss to his forehead. “And will you stay?”

It is Steve now who leans up, hovering above Eddie to meet his eyes through the dark. “I will. I do.” And then he slowly, carefully captures Eddie’s lips with his own, sealing the promise and receiving one in return.

Kissing Eddie is a lot like falling, he realises. But there are arms wrapped around him, holding him, never wanting to let him go — so maybe it isn’t falling after all. Maybe it’s flying.

At home in his bed, Eddie holds him some more, running fingers through his hair long after Steve has fallen asleep.

They’ll make it work.

[iamwhoami]

Babysitting 101

Chicago Med

You and Connor babysit Owen so that Will and Natalie can still have their date night after the babysitter calls in sick.

Warnings: None

Requested = Yes

Y/L/N = Your Last Name

"Nice job back there Dr. Y/L/N," Connor smiled at you.

The two of you had just finished a relatively easy surgery and had returned to the ED to help with the backlog of patients. Between the icy roads and flu season, they could use all the help they could get in there.

"You weren't too shabby either Dr. Rhodes," You shot back and Connor smirked.

"Quit flirting over there lovebirds," Maggie called out, "Y/N you're needed in Treatment 2. Connor, we have an incoming five minutes out, you're going to Baghdad."

"I'll see you after shift then?" Connor quirked an eyebrow and you nodded.

"You bet."

~~~

The rest of your day flew by without any sight of your boyfriend. You were so busy, constantly rushing from one room to next in an attempt to catch up with the schedule.

By the end of your shift, you were absolutely exhausted and wanted nothing more than to open a bottle of wine and put on your favourite movie while snuggling Connor on the couch.

It was that thought that managed to keep you on your feet.

"I am ready to call it a night," You breathed out while you gathered your items, "I don't know if my feet could stand a moment longer."

"Well, they're going to need to find some juice if you want to get to your car," Maggie joked.

You laughed, "Not if I can convince Connor to carry me there."

"I don't think you'd have any trouble," Maggie said and shook her head, "That man is whipped for you..."

You both chuckled at that but you both also knew it was true. Connor would fly to the moon for you.

"Well, have a good night Y/N," Maggie said and left, leaving you to wait for Connor alone.

You quietly waited on the couch for Connor to finish up his last surgery of the day. Nurses and doctors bustled in and out of the lounge and you wished each and every one of them a good night. You were mostly just on your phone, not actively engaging in any other conversation when you overheard your friend Natalie speaking.

"Sorry Will," She was saying, "The nanny just texted. She can't stay later tonight, something with her sister came up."

"Don't worry about it," Will responded, "I'll cancel the reservation then."

You spoke before you could really think things through, "I can watch Owen!"

When your sudden outburst was met with confused silence, you flushed and fumbled with your words.

"I wasn't eavesdropping, I just overheard," You mumbled quickly, "But seriously if you guys need someone to watch Owen, Connor and I can totally do it."

"Connor won't mind?" Natalie asked and you shook your head.

You and Connor hadn't really talked about kids but this wasn't anything like that. All you had to do was look after a toddler for a few hours. How hard could that be?

"We don't have anything better to do tonight anyway," You told them, "In fact, I think it'll be really fun!"

Natalie chuckled at your enthusiasm, "Well I can assure you that it won't be dull."

"Exactly," You pointed your finger at her, "You and Will go on your date. Do. Not. Cancel. Connor and I will watch Owen."

Will and Natalie took a moment to look at each other as if they were contemplating your offer. Finally, Natalie turned back to face you and nodded.

"Thank you Y/N," Natalie said genuinely, "I owe you one."

You shook your head though, "Nah...you don't owe me anything. I'm just glad I can help."

It was decided that Natalie and Will would go and get ready for their date and that they would drop off Owen when you and Connor were back at your apartment. You figured that you should give Connor a heads up but he was still in surgery and you weren't going to disturb him because he was suddenly on babysitting duty afterwards.

He'd get over it.

About ten minutes later, a tired-looking Connor walked into the doctor's lounge and the deepest part of your gut felt bad that you had dragged him into babysitting Owen after a long shift. That guilt caused you to just stare at your boyfriend for a solid minute before he pointed it out.

"What did you do," Connor demanded teasingly as he turned to face you.

You quickly snapped out of your trance, "Nothing!"

"Uh-huh..." Connor raised an eyebrow, "I know that look Y/N."

You feigned offence, "I don't know what you're talking about."

Connor only continued to stare at you and after a while, you finally caved.

"Okay fine," You sighed. "You have to promise that you won't get mad."

Connor nodded, "Okay..."

"I..." You squeezed your eyes shut before opening them again. "I kind of volunteered us to babysit Owen while Nat and Will go on a date."

Silence.

“So…” You stared at Connor, “Thoughts?”

Connor raised an eyebrow, “You voluntarily agreed to look after a toddler…after working a 12 hour shift…”

“Correct.”

The two of you stood there, staring at each other, unmoving. After a hot second, Connor let out a slightly exasperated sigh and ran a hand through his hair.

“Alrighty then, I suppose we should get going then,” Connor gave you a small smile, “wouldn’t want to keep Nat and Will waiting now would we?”

~~~ Perhaps you had underestimated how exhausting looking after a toddler could be.

No, you definitely had.

Dinner had been tiring enough. Somehow more food had gotten on you and Connor than into Owen's stomach.

"You've got a little something there," Connor teased and wiped mashed potato off your eyebrows.

You laughed, "What? Are you sure it's not my new makeup?"

Game after game. Activity after activity. It just didn't end, and yet somehow, it was you and Connor that were tired out, not Owen.

"Y/N!" Owen's little voice gleefully called out. "Come play!"

You huffed but smiled big for the little boy before pushing yourself onto your feet.

Connor couldn't help but chuckle, "Are you having some regrets right about now?"

"Pfttt, never," You shook your head as you sat yourself down on the ground next to Owen. "Right buddy? We're having a blast?"

Connor smiled at you affectionately. He couldn't deny that he was tired but he also had zero regrets. You were so good with Owen. The way you spoke to him. The way you naturally were so attuned to his needs. The way you understood his toddler language.

It took about another hour before Owen's energy began to wane. After a ten minute chase around the apartment, you had managed to wrangle Owen into his pajamas and Connor convinced him to brush his teeth.

Another twenty minutes later and Owen was passed out in bed and you and Connor collapsed on the couch.

"I'm not sure which was more exhausting," Connor joked. "Our twelve hour shift or this."

You teased, "Did a toddler outdo you?"

"Absolutely," Connor shook his head. "I was absolutely outdone by a toddler."

Laughing, you leaned against Connor who wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pulled you closer to his chest.

"You're really good with him you know," Connor softly said.

You hummed, "You weren't so bad yourself."

"Maybe we should babysit more often," Connor added and you scoffed.

"I think we need a few weeks to recover before making any big decisions."

[florencetypemaniacs]

Reaction of ROs when their children prefer them?😭 Like, the simple presence of the RO makes their baby calm down

MC goes to the baby's crib and they can't get the baby to sleep, but when the RO does they fall asleep immediately.

💛 Marcel

Marcel heart would explode as soon as the baby was put in his arms, his warmth instantly making the child calm down. 

The big, beautiful eyes were the same shade as his own, and Marcel smiled, gently rocking his child in his arms. Marcel couldn't believe he had gotten a second chance at having a family. It was a chance to be a father and to know that his child felt safe with him, to the point that the baby instantly calmed down and made him warm all over. 

"Don't worry, little angel; I won't let anything happen to you." 

🧡 Margaret

Would weep with joy and hold her child close. Telling you all about it, not to make you feel bad but to share her relief that her baby actually loves her. Margaret would put a lot of pressure on herself to be the perfect mom, so this would make her relax a whole lot. But she would make it her life mission for you to bond with the baby as well, so you would feel included.

❤️ Owen

Owen would just shrug and would try not to make a big deal out of it so your feelings aren't hurt, but he would be freaking out inside. I could see Owen just holding the baby up when they were alone and saying...

If girl:

"I won't let anything happen to you, lass." And holding his daughter close to his chest.

If boy:

"I will make you proud that I'm your father." And holding his son close to his chest.

💙 Rosemary

Rosemary would find it very touching but would worry about the baby bonding with you. She wouldn't want you to feel left out, but at the same time, her own child already finding comfort in her would just make Rosemary's day. Rosemary just smiled the whole day and did not want to be apart from her child for even a minute. 

🩵 Tai

Just Tai was in the rocking chair in the nursery, narrowing his eyes at the baby. "Okay, what is wrong? Don't you know how amazing your other parent is?" 

Tai would just narrow his eyes. The baby preferred him over you? Not possible. You were perfect in every way; couldn't your child see that? So he would pay close attention to the child, maybe even running some tests. He would look through all the parenting books and see if this is normal. When he just figures out that the baby finds him comforting, Tai will honestly be so happy. 

The baby was just babbling at him. In the baby tongue. 

💚 Zane

Oh, so smug. Would rub it in your face, but he would be overjoyed as well. Zane was honestly really scared to become a father, so having his child feel comfortable around him would fill him with pride. 

You, as the MC, would think that it was planned—the baby just wailing and Zane just popping out of nowhere. "Oh, don't worry, kid, I'm here." Zane would say it in a mocking tone towards you, but there was no real heat. 

[cosmicanemoia]

Proper Introduction

Amelia Shepherd x Reader

Love Me Till You Leave Me part 5

You receive a text from Teddy saying that she wants to meet with you in the cafeteria of the hospital. You were just outside Grey Sloan Memorial sitting on a bench, so you got up and went into the hospital. When you were making your way to the cafeteria, you could tell that everyone's looking at you funny, but you didn't mind them and went on with your business. When you got to the cafeteria, you sat down and took your phone out of your pocket and texted Teddy that you're already there. Teddy thinks to herself and thinks that is fast.

Amelia and Teddy went to the cafeteria together, and when Teddy saw you sitting alone, she called out your name and waved at you. Amelia, on the other hand, was shocked to see you. As they make their way to you, Amelia nudge Teddy with her shoulder and asked "What the hell did you do? What is going on?" Teddy just smiled at her and continues to walk to you. When they finally get to where you are, you stand up, and Teddy gives you a hug. As you hug Teddy, Amelia caught a whiff of your scent once more. You thought she inhaled your smell, but you thought maybe not. (She did.) They sat down with you and talked.

T: Dr. Shepherd thinks you're stalking her.

Y/N: Good one. Ted. * You raise your eyebrows up and down and chuckle a little*

T: Unfortunately, I'm not joking. *sighs*

Your smile turns into a frown.

Y/N: What made you think that? Me? Stalking? You? I didn't mean that in a bad way. You're gorgeous. But I'm not a Stalker.

A: Then what are you doing in Boston? We bumped into each other. Outside near the hospital? We almost bumped into each other. I even smelled your scent in one of the pillows in the on-call room.

T: What were you doing smelling a pillow?

A: Not the point. TED.

T: it's chief Altman for you. And how do you know her smell from other smells? Are you once a perfume connoisseur?

A: Again, not the point. I remember your voice. You only ever said "sorry" and not "I'm sorry." Care to explain yourself?

You weren't saying anything, and they can tell you were thinking to yourself. You are trying to remember, and you did.

Y/N: the gorgeous woman in Boston. It was you? And yes! Outside, you almost spilt your coffee on me. I almost knocked you down. I slept one time in the on-call room, Ted knows that. I haven't slept for two days so she let me. *winked*

A: All that information does not, not make you a stalker.

Y/N: Right. It doesn't. (You shake your head left and right and smirk) I was in Boston with a friend, well my girlfriend at that time, but that's a story for another time. Ted knows her, I can give you her number, and you can call her and ask what was I doing in Boston. But tell her to skip the intimate details. She likes sharing those. Although, I doubt that she'll answer. And outside when you almost spilt coffee on me. I just finished talking with Ted here, and I ran out to the hospital because I am going to be late to an appointment.

T:bYou should stop saying appointment when you're meeting with your family. Dr. Shepherd told me she could smell you all over the hospital.

Y/N: You showed me around that should be normal. (Your eyes fixated on Amelia's making her kinda nervous. You stare into people's eyes when you get serious, unknowingly.) So?

You like how I smell? *you teased*

A: *scoffs* I- (her phone pinged, she's being paged) I need to go it's an emergency. (She quickly got up on her seat and walked away.)

Teddy laughs out loud when Amelia gets out of sight, which confuses you, so you asked her.

Y/N: Why are you laughing like that? What's so funny?

T: she is so whipped.

Y/N: whipped? Who is?

T: Yes! Dr. Shepherd, for you.

Y/N: You're being delusional.

T: You're being blind.

Amelia entered the room where they read x-rays and scans. She let's out a deep sigh. Link and Owen looked at each other.

L: Already? it wasn't even midday.

O: Girl troubles? Maybe?

A: Shut it! *She commanded with an annoyed look on her face.*

Link and Owen turn their backs on Amelia and say that they need her for consult. She lied about it being an emergency. Amelia's conversation with them was rather short.

Amelia was alone when she went in the elevator, and before it closed, y/n swoops in. Now, they are alone, together. Y/N pulls the emergency stop and turns to face Amelia, who was in shock and a little nervous, not knowing what's gonna happen next.

A: Please don't kill me.

Y/N: *laughs* You're funny. I'm not gonna kill you. If you come over to my house for dinner tomorrow night. *menacingly stares at Amelia* I'm kidding. I'm not a murderer. Just come over tomorrow night, and dinner's on me. Wear something casual. * held out her hand to Amelia* Hi! I'm y/n l/n. Nice to meet you.

A: *confused of what's going on, also held out her hand to shake yours* I'm Amelia Shepherd. Nice to meet you, too.

Your hands were still holding each other. You pulled her for a hug. Amelia thinks it was a very good hug, and she felt safe in your embrace. She thinks you pull away way too soon and wants more. You push the emergency stop, and the elevator starts to work again. As you both walk out, you said, "Now, we are properly introduced." You nod at her and said "See you around, Dr. Shepherd. It was nice meeting you." You turned around and walked away, and you missed the smile that was on Dr. Shepherd's face.

As Amelia turns to walk away, she is smiling and giggling like a child. Link, Owen, Jo, and Bailey saw her, and as she saw them, she continued to walk on and didn't mind the faces on her colleagues and friends' faces. She's genuinely happy.

O: What do you guys think happened in that elevator?

L: What can make Amelia smile and giggle like that?

J: Sex, the thought of sex, someone she really likes asking her on a date.

The three looked at her, who couldn't seem to believe or accept what she had just said.

J: What? That's what I would also look like if I were in her position? You asked a question I just answered.

B: She's in love.

Bailey shivers as soon as those words leave her mouth. The three looked at her, and they seemed to agree with her, but they were waiting for her to elaborate more or share her thoughts more, but she just walked away.

[dum1s-writings]

Well, hello! It's nice to see an active total drama writer in here! I love this show so much and the fandom is like dead 💀

So, I had this idea...

It could be headcanons or a fic/one-shot, whatever you feel like the most!

But, what about the reaction to the TDWT crew to Chris bringing his niece with him?? Like, the reader is just a sweet 19 y/o teenager who looks for their safety and actually cares about them??? (Total contrary to his uncle lmao).

It doesn't have to be with one character specifically, most like how they would react overall to the reader wanting to protect them from Chris (AND PLEASE MAKE THE READER PROTECT CODY FROM SIERRA I BEG U)

Anyways, have a nice day!!! <3

~~~The Nice McLean~~~

I fucking love Total Drama!! I firmly believe Leshawna should've won the first season. I'll try to add my least favorite characters from World Tour to avoid being biased.

Warnings: Chris McLean, Sierra's stalker behavior, attempted manipulation from Alejandro, Duncan being kind of an ass, does Cody being a crybaby count? I'm making it count.

Pronouns: They/Them

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

"Alright contestants I have another surprise for you." Chris looked at the tired teens. From behind Chef came another teen. They smiled and waved to the other teens.

"Another contestant?" A few questioned simultaneously.

"Oh hell no. Their mother would kill me." Chris slung his arm around them and tugged them close. "This here is -Y/N- McLean, my nibling."

"Heya," their smile got bigger "I hope we can get along."

Everyone was too shocked to speak for a moment. Sierra was trying so hard not to flip her shit. Chris McLean's nibling was actually in front of her.

"So you're related to Chris?" Harold finally asked.

"Yeah. My mom is his sister." -Y/N- answered truthfully.

"Think of -Y/N- as a co-host. Another Chris of sorts." The older man smirked. "They'll keep an eye on you famous wannabes while I can't."

First of all we'll get the obvious out of the way, the cast fucking love you, after getting to know you. Obviously at first learning you're related to the devil host, Chris McLean, they immediately thought this season would be twice as torturous. But give them a couple of days or weeks and most of them would willingly jump from the plane for you. The others may take some time.

I'll start with the ones that take no time in becoming your fans:

Cody: for him the moment he saw you give a genuine smile was when he trusted you. Having dealt with Chris's shit for so long made him aware of a real and fake smile. Also when you demand Sierra leave him alone? Oh yeah he likes you even more now. Expect a lot of clinging, as much as he can, crying for one reason or another mostly Sierra and excessive praise for the small things.

Lindsay: my sweetheart, so pretty so.....not traditionally smart. She saw you looking super nice in your outfit and that was it. Anyone with fashion choices as good as yours are definitely trustworthy. Please become shopping buddies after the show is over.

Owen: this big lug. He really tries to see the good in everyone. More often than not he's wrong. But he's genuinely happy he's right about you.

Sierra: she knew about you before anyone else. Obviously she's going to trust you from the get go. You're related to THE Chris McLean. That trust may or may not waver...TBD. Either way watch yourself around her. Keep a close eye on your belongings.

The neutral ones who need a bit more time are:

Noah: he just doesn't trust easily. Take no offense to it. I think only Owen was lucky enough, being an actual giant ball of sunshine and stupidity. Perhaps if you sneak him some Noah-Safe food he'll trust you faster.

Gwen: poor girl has been scorned by the world so often. It's left her with a few trust issues. Maybe stick up for her and watch some good horror movies together. Reassurance is the key, she was painted as a bad guy from the beginning. Let her know she's more than that and it's okay to admit she did wrong. Help her move past that.

Leshawna: this bad bitch (lovingly) knows her worth. She wants to make sure others know it as well. Don't talk down to her and hype up her plans and ideas and she'll consider you worth her time and respect. Also keep Alejandro away from her. Please. My queen deserves better.

DJ: he's a softie and a Mama's boy. He does want to trust you. But after his failed restaurant with his Mama it might take some time. People in power never helped him or his Mama. In fact he wonders if they were sabotaged. Help him find ways to "reverse his curse" and he'll definitely trust you, also maybe offer his Mama a job as a chef, especially if it's a higher position in a private kitchen.

The ones who just straight up dislike you and take a long time to like you are:

Alejandro: his family caused him so much trauma. He doesn't trust ANYONE. He may act like it, nodding to your advice and being nice. But alas tis all a front. He's really just waiting for the perfect moment to betray you. When that time comes and goes and you're still nice to him? Yeah....you may have started chipping away at his walls.

Heather: the queen bee. The head of every group project. Highschool taught her to look out for herself. So did the first two seasons of Total Drama. She'll bitch at you and talk shit about you "behind" your back. Just brush it off and continue being nice and you'll win her over, eventually.

Courtney: the Type A Psychotic Crazies and debate team caused Courtney to believe only Courtney can help Courtney. She'll refuse to trust you and judges those who do. In fact it's not until she's kicked off will she finally trust you. Maybe meet up after the show and talk to her, she'll apologize to you and own up to her wrongdoings.

Duncan: the runaway delinquent. The hardass he is doesn't trust you, purely because of your last name. Chris ruined his life, more than he himself could have. Being stalked no matter where he went for 2 years put him on edge. Abolish Chris's stupid "must always sing" rule and his opinion on you might change.

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

Hopefully this works. I didn't know what to do for most of it. I was winging it big time.

[theitalianscribe]

I heard this song for the first time two days ago and it has not left my head since. It's so good.

Also, because hyper-fixation, it gave me ideas.

None that will become a full fic, but enjoy these Welcome to Dreamworld rambles from Discord, presented in bullet points.

It's so fun [[this is past me talking about the song]]

Also imagine an au where Carlos finds out he has a grandson shortly after Owen disappears and he's like, "Wait I have a grandbaby and he's all alone??? That won't do!" And he comes back to take care of Wiatt

And Wiatt is like ??????

I was going to joke that he is possessing Winnie but that doesn't make sense timeline wise

Unless Winnie was something Carlos built between his death and the founding of Dreamworld and each founder assumed one of the other founders built him

Just this shifty pegasus in pajamas and a nightcap making eggs for Wiatt, possibly with blood stains on the cuffs of his pants telling (Grand)dad jokes and being spooky/ominous at the same time.

TheItalianScribe (TheIcyMage) — Today at 11:23 AM He notices Wiatt had a crush on Lewis and is like, "Oooh! Someone has a crush! Want me to help you take his heart? Wait that's not the phrase. Capture his heart?"

"N…no, thank you."

Winnie going to PTA meetings in a bad human disguise Why does this idea make me chuckle?

[good-griief]

Time ; Acceptance

third and final chap of my "time" series! i really hope yall enjoyed it cus angst is one of my fave things to write. i didn't want to drag it out too much but i was thinking of doing one-shots and some au's of this idea, so if ur interested in that, i'd be glad to know!

warnings ambiguous relationship between abby and reader, reference to romance, implications of unrequited love (it's not), she/her reader, lasting effects of torture to reader, morally grey reader, ambiguous/story-teller dependent interpretation of major past event between characters

tags @frogtits1 @sawaagyapong @augieee21 @sunkissedbibi @eden-nox

part one part two

part three on ao3

Ellie looked over the pictures she took from Leah as she and Dina sat in the theater, pausing at the sight of someone she didn’t recognize. “Who’s this?” She asked, picking up the photo. California was written beneath the picture of a girl and a younger-looking Abby, clearly candid as they leaned against one another by a bonfire. She flipped over the picture. Soon, was written with a heart next to it. 

“Dunno.” Dina swiped a few pictures over to her girlfriend. “There are a few of her.” 

Ellie looked them over, seeing Leah had written and scratched out Santa Barbara on one before scribbling hearts on others. Finally, there was a recent one. Your name was under the picture of you two together, and on the back was a small note. Finally back home was all she read before she stopped, realizing how personal it was and tossing it aside. It had nothing to do with her, and she refused to feel bad about anything pertaining to these people. 

Abby found the pictures in the theater after finding Mel and Owen, taking them and stashing them in her bag. 

She knew you’d seen Leah. She had the pictured proof of it, but she was hoping that night you would tell her why; tell her why, and tell her why, again, you didn’t stay. 

“Just fucking stay here, then!” Your squad member had yelled at you, already being scared that you were so injured and now scared that you’d be leaving, when you debated whether or not to go and speak to your old friends. There was a tightness in your chest, stomach twisting as your heart raced to the point that it felt like one continuous, loud beat. This was all so familiar, but you weren’t going to leave this time. “Go back, see if they’ll take you in, but don’t come crawling back to us.”

You didn’t even have the option. 

“What’s the verdict?” You asked one of the other medics back on the island after he looked over your recovering injuries; still having a severe pain in your stomach and hip that made you nauseous, flaring up to the point that it was debilitating at times. 

It scared you; not being able to do your tasks. What if there was no use for you? Where would you be then? Alone?

And again by your own design. 

He gave you a look. “You’ve got some pretty bad damage.” There was a big, splotched bruise on your stomach that hadn’t left in the days you’d been recovering. “Could be internal… We can’t have you over-exerting yourself. You’re our best medic.” You scoffed at that, nodding. “No more patrols, alright? At least, not until we can do something about this.” 

It’d been months of this now, and you still weren’t better. You had a feeling walking around was making it persist, but you couldn’t just stop working. You refused. Even if it was killing you to do so— figuratively, of course. 

Because of how distracted you were by that, you hadn’t noticed Abby’s distancing. You would set out a pouch of anti-poisons and poultice ingredients for her each time she went on patrol, but you hadn’t noticed she wasn’t taking them until they began to pile up. 

You sighed, putting them in a basket to take to her. You hadn’t realized how heavy these were, as you’d been loading them up just for her, but you went ahead and began walking toward her and Lev’s home. 

You hadn’t realized how far it was, but by the time you got there, you were feeling sick. 

You knocked weakly, Abby not even realizing someone was knocking until you did again. She came to the door, surprised to see you. She couldn’t help the small smile that came to her face. You smiled back, but it faltered almost immediately. “Come in.” Abby stepped aside. “Are you alright?”

You sat down on her couch, setting the basket on the coffee table as you exhaled and held your hip. “Fine,” you forced. “You haven’t been picking up your pouches, so I thought I’d drop them off.”

Abby shut the door, coming over to you and kneeling. “Let me see it.”

“It’s just a cramp—“ 

Abby pushed you to lie back on the cushions, moving your hands and frowning at the clammy feeling. “Do you have a fever?” She asked, making you put your forearm to your head. You shook your head, but she lifted her arm to your head anyway. “God,” she muttered, moving to lift your shirt. The bruising was still there, still red, purple, and unfading. “What happened?” Her hands went to the cramping muscles in your abdomen, massaging to help break up the bruising and making you cringe in pain. “I’m sorry. It’ll help.”

“I know,” you sighed. “It happened back in Washington; your leader questioned me with some… weapon,” you said vaguely. “It’s just muscle bruising.”

“This looks like internal bleeding.“

“It was.” You sighed. “But it’s been like this for months. I’d be dead if it were internal bleeding,” you laughed out, though Abby didn’t find it funny. “The bleeding stopped before we left Washington. That’s why we stayed a few days longer; when I saw Leah.” Abby nodded along, her hand now resting on your stomach in a comforting hold, thumb running slowly over your skin. “That feels nice,” you mumbled, making her look down at her hand. 

“Does it?” She was holding where the deepest part of the bruising was, right above your hip, your sentiment concerning her more than it should. “Did you hurt your hip?”

“Maybe on the trip back. Overexursion.” You nodded. “Sprain, or something.” 

She frowned. “You should’ve just come back. Mel would’ve treated you.”

“They wouldn’t have waited for me.” You shook your head. “I didn’t want to have to go back alone— and don’t say I could’ve stayed. Not there.”

“I could’ve gone back with you.”

You didn’t realize that was something she might’ve wanted, making you pause and look down at her. “Would you have?”

“We all would’ve.” She pulled down your shirt, standing and getting you a bag of ice. “And even if they didn’t… I would’ve. If you asked, I’d go.”

“No you wouldn’t,” you huffed, laughing slightly. She sat next to you, holding the ice against your hip and pressing down to aid in compressing. She scoffed at you, shaking her head. “What? You would’ve just left?”

“For you? Of course.”

You grimaced, swallowing harshly. “Don’t say that.”

“What?”

You shook your head. “You have no idea what kind of guilt would burden you after doing something like that.”

There was a beat of silence. “I know how you felt,” she started, letting you hold the ice now that you were in less pain and seemed to be able to move. “Or feel. Even if you won’t tell me, I heard you say it… And I’ll be honest, I was angry that you left; that you were alive. We all were. But not at you. Never at you.” She kept her eyes away from yours, staring into the dead fireplace across from the two of you. “Just that… you couldn’t speak to us— And after what we did—“

“What you did?” You frowned over at her, shaking your head and objecting before she could continue. “I left—“

“The things we said—“

“No, Abby,” your voice was firm, wavering, but firm. “I left. That was my choice. When my friends needed me— when my family needed me, I wasn’t there because I left you. What I did,” you enforced with a tone she’d never heard directed at her from you before. “That is why I couldn’t speak to you.”

There was a long silence, Abby’s breath shaky as you sat back with a wince. She knew you shouldn’t be having this conversation right now, but it seemed like this was the only conversation the two of you could have.

And she just wanted to speak to you. 

“I still would’ve left,” she concluded; a complete dismissal that made you scoff out a dry laugh. “I don’t care what you say; what stories you come up with to blame yourself.” You shook your head at her stubborn attitude. “I still would’ve left for you… And the only thing I’d feel guilty for, is caring about you more than I ever cared about anyone else.” You stayed quiet, letting her know she’d gotten your attention. “And I’m not asking you to feel the same—“

“Don’t do that—“

“—Or to change how you feel…” She spoke over you like you hadn’t even opened your mouth. “But I am asking you to understand me.” You knew she was choosing a time when you were vulnerable to come clean on purpose, making you grimace as you reluctantly listened to her try to get you to do the same. “Because you do know me, and you know that I would leave for you, even if you wouldn’t do the same for me.”

“Fuck you, Abby.” At your quiet voice, she knew she’d gotten through to you. Past your false passiveness and down to what you tried to hide from everyone. But you couldn’t hide from her. “I left for you.”

And she couldn’t from you. 

“Don’t go there.”

“No, really.” You forced yourself to sit up and face her. “If this is what you want to talk about, then fine. We need to, anyway. No placating, no pacifying, nothing. Let’s talk.”

She took in a deep breath, turning to face you as she pushed herself to the other end of the couch. “Well?” Was all she said. 

“Tell me the truth.” She immediately rolled her eyes; immediately got defensive. “That night, you wanted me to leave. Didn’t you?” You spoke slowly, meeting her eyes. “That’s why you feel so guilty; why you won’t let me. Because you wanted me to leave, and I knew that, and actually left.”

She was quiet, staring you down. “I thought you were going to leave.”

“Abby—“

“How many times do I have to say it—?”

“I know you. That’s what you just said.” Your tone became hostile quicker than she could process, making her look away. You knew she wasn’t telling the whole truth. “So I know you wanted me to leave. I shouldn’t have, but that’s why I left, and you know that, and you regret it…” You spoke firmly, words clear and cutting into her with every pause you took to emphasize them. “So just tell me the truth. Please.”

She was quiet for a moment, chest tightening as she grimaced. “If you were going to leave, I wanted to be the one to decide that we wouldn’t see each other. I already told you that.” She tip-toed around the question, earning nothing from you and making her more on edge. “So, yes, I wanted you to leave. I wanted you gone for suggesting you go.” When you let out a breath of satisfaction, she continued over you. “But then tell me the truth. You weren’t planning on us going with you. Were you? You were suggesting to go alone.”

“You know me so well,” your tone was dry, mocking and almost demeaning. It was a blow to the chest, making her bite her tongue. “There was no point in suggesting you go, but I was. Even though I knew you wouldn't have gone. All you wanted to do was find him—“

“I would’ve gone in the middle of the fucking night and left eveyone else if you asked.” Clearly, the demeaning tone of your voice was too much for her, her tone biting without a second thought as you continued to push her to get the full truth before you opened up, too; why she wouldn’t just let you take the blame for something that was so clearly your fault.  

“No you wouldn’t.” You were pushing for an argument now, tone lazed and grating on her nerves. 

She always let things slip when she was irritated. 

“You didn’t fucking ask. How would you know?” She was quick to say, feeding off your dismissive tone. 

“You would’ve left Owen. Really?”

“For you?” She laughed at your naivety. “I’d do fucking anything.” She shook her head. “But you wouldn’t ask me to—”

“And Joel?” She shook her head, shrugging. You did the same, shaking your head at her. “You wouldn’t have left them— him? No fucking way.“

“That’s where you’re wrong.” You scoffed. “I would’ve left as soon as you brought it up, and I would’ve made everyone go with us, if that meant you wouldn’t fucking leave—”

“Oh, and you’re not angry at me—?”

“Fuck you.” 

You laughed in response, shrugging. “You’re the one that wanted me gone—”

“And everyone blamed me for it!” You shut your mouth at her exasperated response, looking over her flushed face and glossed eyes. “They all knew if I didn’t say anything, you wouldn’t have left… And they all knew you wanted to leave, so they blamed me for letting you.” She paused, a thick swallow bobbing in her throat. Now, you were getting somewhere. “That night; when you looked at me… I just wanted to give you the choice.” She blinked rapidly, but couldn’t control the way her voice broke, “I wasn’t telling you to go.” She spoke over you when you went to comfort her, “I would’ve told you to stay if I knew you’d already decided,” she got out quickly, shaking her head at herself when she felt her eyes burn.

Somehow, you always got her this way. Even if she thought the conversation could go her way, you always found a way to get to her. 

“If you hadn’t fucking said anything—!” Jordan pointed an accusatory finger at Abby. 

Just as they’d flipped on you, they were doing the same to her. They’d all been on her side last night, but suddenly she was at fault. 

“Fuck off, Jordan,” Owen huffed out. “You were being an asshole.”

“And you weren’t?”

“Why don’t we just stop arguing and go find her?” Abby suggested, exasperated. 

“Like she’d come back,” Leah scoffed. “Just let her go.” She was flippant, shocking everyone. “What if we find a body? What are we going to do then?”

“What the fuck, Leah?” Nora scoffed at her. 

“I’m not the one that said anything to make her leave in the first place,” she bit back, though she wasn’t immediately blaming Abby and instead looked between Nora and Mel. “And now you wanna go find her?” She then looked at Abby, scoffing at her avoiding her gaze. “Go fuck yourselves.”

“You’re not any better,” Mel said. “You didn’t say anything.”

“Yeah? And what did you say, huh? Just go if you want to? What the fuck did you think—?”

“That’s enough, guys,” Owen spoke up, stopping them before they said anything else they’d regret. “She wanted to leave, so she left. It’s not anyone’s fault. It was a choice. Clearly, she decided to leave before she even brought it up.” Leah rolled her eyes. “I say we just go. We don’t know where she went, and we can’t track her.”

Abby could understand why Leah was the one you could speak to. How you could open up to her, and admit to her what you wouldn’t to the rest of them. She understood, but she still wished it was her. 

She wished she could get to the gentle, comfortable part of the conversation without arguing first. 

But that would never happen until you were honest with each other. 

And that always took a fight. 

The conversation had taken up so much emotional energy that you were in physical pain by the end of it; it continued on past Abby’s admission until she heard you tell her exactly how you felt. Just admitting it to her got you choked up, and seeing you that way did the same, but now you were holding the ice pack to your stomach as you curled up on her couch. 

“Fuck, let me help.” Abby quickly got up and blinked away the feelings you’d just brought up, reaching out as she sat next to you and pulling you into her. There was really nothing she could do to help, but she told herself she was warming you up by holding you— helping tense muscles relax. “Try to relax.” She took the ice from you, setting it aside and pulling you closer. 

You tried to even your breathing as she rubbed your back, but it only made you more upset. “I shouldn’t have started an argument. I’m sorry,” you muttered.

“I think this one was necessary,” she laughed, soothing you as you pressed your ear to her chest. “Even if you hate arguing, you were right. We needed to talk about it, and we never would’ve gotten here peacefully.” You laughed at that, wincing as you did. “But that doesn’t matter… What can I do?”

“Just…” You sighed, rolling your eyes at yourself. “Lie with me? You’re warm, so it… helps the muscle relax.” It was true enough, but Abby knew better. She knew you got scared when you were injured, and she knew being held helped. 

Despite how you mocked her for one wrong judgment, she did know you. Even now. Still. 

What she didn’t realize was how her embrace felt as comforting as it did when you were younger, not like the first time you hugged her— when you hardly recognized her touch. Even if you recognized her then, you recognized her touch even more now. The work she’d done to regain her strength brought feeling back to it. A lively, gentle feeling. 

“You think you can walk to my room?” She asked tentatively, grabbing the ice pack as she stood and helped you up. You nodded, and despite her not believing you, she kept her arm around your waist and walked with you. 

You looked down the hallway, huffing at the impossible length of it and forcing yourself to keep going until you faltered. Abby caught you quickly, scooping under your legs despite your protesting of “I’m fine” and carrying you the rest of the way. 

She lied you down on her bed, making you lie flat to help the muscle stretch before lying with you and opening her arm for you as she set the ice aside. 

“Now that you’re being all nice to me,” you said after a moment, earning an eye roll. 

“I wasn’t being mean,” she countered. 

“Why would you leave for me?” You asked as if she hadn't spoken. “Help me understand that.”

“I wanted to be with you. I told you that—“

“But why?”

She didn’t respond for some time, staring up at the ceiling. “You know why.”

“Abby,” you sighed, defeated. “Just tell me.”

She looked down at you with a frown. “Why do you need me to tell you?”

“Because, it doesn’t make any sense?” You scoffed at her, moving to sit up, but she held you down before you could cause yourself anymore pain. “I know how you felt about Owen, and I know how you feel about me. It’s not the same.”

“So you understand why he broke up with me then.” She laughed at that, as if it was the funniest thing she’d heard all day. You frowned. She hadn’t even told you that yet. “In the end, after seeing you that day, he wanted to come to Santa Barbara and find you too, but I guess he couldn’t understand why I held on all those years.” 

“What do you mean?”

She pursed her lips, pushing herself up and going to her closet. She supposed it was her turn to show you all her keepsakes now, as she’d finally gotten them all back from the boat. 

She emptied her backpack onto the bed, Leah’s polaroids and her old photos falling out. Books and folded up maps, too. Even an old journal. 

You grabbed Leah’s pictures first, a smile coming to your face when you saw the one you took together. 

“I know it’s a weird question, but can we take one together?” She’d asked after giving you pictures of your friends, to which you gladly agreed to before she had to leave. 

You flipped it over, seeing the note she wrote and swallowing hard. 

Finally back home

Again, I wish you’d stay, but I know why you can’t. 

I don’t want to either. I don’t want to keep fighting. 

I’m afraid that I’ll be gone before I get to see you again, but I’m glad we got this. Whatever it was. 

Who would’ve thought that a few hours makes up for a few years apart?

You set it aside, lips pursed as you looked through the rest of them, all with notes just as feeling as that, some even sounding angry at the rest of your friends. 

You looked to the maps, unfolding one and finding a small picture of you and Abby taped to it. Dots littered the paper, connected in a pattern that led to a circle around the picture, taped over central California. The next map was the same, towns being written out  with information beneath them. The handwriting changed with each of the maps, getting clearer and clearer as Abby got older. 

The last one was empty, only a picture taped to it. 

The books had passages underlined, some annotated to show to you, or that you’d like them. 

The last was her journal, binding cracked and worn but not because it was old. Because she’d written in it so much that the pages were worn, even teared with how hard she pressed into them, emotion sinking into the ink and through the pages. 

You opened it to the middle, another photo falling out; one Abby had taken with Leah’s camera. Just of you. 

There were entries upon entries, letters upon letters, and this one was the one you just had to open to. 

It spanned for pages; pages, and pages of just one letter to you. One letter, pouring her heart out to someone who couldn’t— no, wouldn’t even reciprocate. 

Your conversation, the one you turned into an argument for no reason other than to prove yourself right, replayed in your mind. 

“I would’ve left.” For you. 

“I’d do anything.” For you. 

“If you’d ask me.” 

“You wouldn’t ask me to.”

“If you asked, I’d go.”

You stared down at the book, her words repeating and repeating and making your vision blur as you finally took them in. “I’m not asking you to change how you feel.” That brought you closer to understanding, brows knitting together. 

Even if you’d mocked her for it, she knew you well. 

She knew you well enough to know you were finally letting yourself understand. She took the book from you, replacing it with her hands so she could pull you close, holding you to her chest just as her words sunk into your heart. 

A blow to the chest. 

I’m not asking you to feel the same. 

[smytherines]

For the choosing violence ask game, I'm very intrigued as to what your answer might be for 8?

common fandom opinion that everyone is wrong about

I have two!

The first is more of a nitpick on my part, but it's really annoying to me when people say Owen faked his death. He did not fake his death. Faking his death would be purposefully engineering a scenario designed to make people think he died when he didn't. That is not what happened-- if it was, Owen wouldn't have been so consumed by rage and grief. Owen was left for dead. He was presumed dead because of how he fell and the fact that a building exploded on him. By the time he could've maybe recovered enough to make an escape, he would've already been long declared dead. It's just inaccurate, and it erases his entire motivation in the show to say that he faked his death.

And the second is (oh god everyone is gonna get out the pitchforks but...) that Curt killed Owen to "save the world." I think this is incorrect for a few reasons.

First, Barb brings up pursuing this same technology multiple times in the show, the final time (admittedly when Curt cannot hear her) is just before the staircase scene, really emphasizing it just before that confrontation.

Second, if Curt's reasoning was truly saving the world from Chimera's surveillance network plan, killing Owen is about the worst thing he could do, because Owen is the one person with information that could actually help them take down Chimera. And since he had already disarmed Owen, he could have incapacitated him, captured him, and sent him to A.S.S. headquarters to let them deal with him.

Third, literally the last thing Owen says before Curt kills him is "killing me won't take the system offline, so what are you doing?" Owen outright tells Curt that killing him will not save the world, that it will not change anything.

But most importantly, when Owen asks Curt what he's doing, Curt doesn't say he has to do this, that he's saving the world, any of that. He says he is taking Owen's advice. He is moving on. He outright says that his reason for killing Owen is personal, not ideological.

This part is speculation, but the answer that makes the most sense to me is some combination of:

A mercy killing, in the sense that the person Owen is now is so different and twisted and horrifying that Curt cannot accept this as Owen. That putting him down like a rabid dog is in some way a kindness, because the Owen that Curt knew would not want to be what he has become. That it would have been better for everyone if Owen had died that night in 1957.

That Curt can't accept his role in what happened to Owen. We see in the show that the only time Curt acknowledges that he got Owen killed ("doesn't even matter if I killed my best friend") is when he is drunk and alone, and when he thinks he is about to die. Other than that, Curt frames it as something that happened to him, not something he had an active part in (telling Tatiana he watched as his partner was killed right in front of him, that there was nothing he could do to stop it)

And the idea that if anything could possibly sway Curt from doing what he feels is right, it's the temptation of thinking he can have this person he mourned for four years back. Even if he is completely fucking broken and wrong. So essentially a failsafe, because if he can't convince Owen to come back to the "good" side, then he worries he will be tempted to follow Owen to the "bad" side just to have him back in some way. I mean "bringing back the dead even if they come back wrong" has been a trope in stories for hundreds of years because that desire, that temptation to reclaim something you thought was lost forever, to get the person you love back even if they aren't the same person anymore, that is a very human thing. Being consumed by grief and being willing to make a devil's bargain to rid yourself of that grief, is a very powerful idea.