#part 2 will not be worse than this if that's any consolation

[smoosie]

The South Downs Cottage - part 1

[ellecdc]

mother!!!! that recent poly!marauders + lily fic had me WEAK. if you please, could you write a part two where shy!reader finds out remus is a werewolf? I could see rem really not wanting her to find out bc he doesn’t want to scare her, but maybe severus(or somebody) spills the beans thinking she already knew, or she overheard a conversation between the boys. she’d be accepting of course, but remus freaks out when she finds out. just a lot of comfort and reassurance.

hope that gives you some inspiration, also, totally don’t have to write it if you don’t want to, of course!!! ilysm 🖤💚

I took this in a bit of a different direction but the ending's just the same! thanks so much sweets <3 <3

pt 1 // pt 2 // pt 3 // pt 4 // pt 5

4.6k words

poly!marauders + lily x shy!reader who learns about Remus' furry little problem

CW: miscommunication trope, insecurities, angst [with a happy ending], reader is feeling incredibly insecure in this fic, James cries, Sirius cries a little bit too but they all pretend not to notice for his sake

You felt terribly foolish; no, you felt worse. You felt absolutely humiliated and you had no one to blame but yourself.

And now that you were here - ‘here’ being rushing to the dungeons to lock yourself in the Hufflepuff dormitories for the next foreseeable future - you aren’t sure how you had convinced yourself that this was going to end any other way. 

It was a pipedream at best, thinking you had any place amongst the infamous Marauders and the princess of Gryffindor, and it was delusional at worst. 

Of course they’d grow weary of you, of course they’d find your nerves and anxiety tiresome, of course they’d wind up bored of accommodating you when they were all so much more than you. 

What had you been thinking? How did you manage to allow yourself to believe that this was anything but a phase for them - they saw you as a challenge, they beat the challenge, and now they were through with you. 

You thought that the sweet looks, the kisses, the affection, the effort all meant more than it obviously did.

At least to them.

To you, it meant the world.

To them, it was a chore.

You were a chore.

Foolish girl. 

You had been on your way to the library to meet up with the boys and Lily to study for the upcoming Herbology test. It was the first real group ‘date’ after the sketchiness that usually followed Remus about once a month that no one else seemed inclined to comment on, so neither did you.

Except…except, this time, some lingering tension seemed to follow the bout of sketchiness. 

And still, no one seemed particularly inclined to comment on it.

And you couldn’t help but feel like you were out of the loop somehow, but you chalked that up to being a newer addition to the dynamic, and not living with them in Gryffindor tower.

That is until you happened to be walking out of their view behind the stacks of books that their table was situated by when you overheard their conversation. 

“You’re going to have to say something to her, Rem. This is getting out of hand.” You heard Lily say solemnly, earning her a pained groan from Remus’ lips, causing you to pause behind the stacks so as to not interrupt their conversation.

“Can’t we just ignore this? Just for a little longer?” Remus bargained. “I mean, it can’t be that bad?”

“It’s worse, Moons.” Sirius corrected. 

“Y/N’s so sensitive though.” James added. “I mean, how would that conversation even go? How do you tell her something like that?”

“It has to come from Remus.” Lily stated matter-of-factly. 

Remus let out a long-suffering sigh. “And how do you suggest I go about this?”

“Listen.” Sirius asserted. “I don’t bloody care how we tell her, but we have to say something. I cannot keep living like this; it’s exhausting.”

Lily made a tsking sound and placed a consoling hand on Sirius’ shoulder as Remus let out another sigh.

“I know, I know; I’m sorry you guys. I thought we could ignore it but…I don’t think we can anymore.”

Lily, Sirius, and James all made a hum of acknowledgement.

“I think we ought to just rip the bandaid off and hope she understands.” Lily said.

You felt your stomach migrate to your throat as you turned on your heels and fled the library.

Is that what all the tension was about? Is that what this library study date was? Just a ruse to sit you down so they could break up with you?

Of course it was, idiot. You scolded yourself.  They were foolish to entertain the likes of you for any amount of time. 

So now you were here - ‘here’ being rushing to the dungeons to lock yourself in the Hufflepuff dormitories for the next foreseeable future - and you aren’t sure how you had convinced yourself that this was going to end any other way. 

“Do you think I should do it tonight?” Remus asked Lily as she finally sat down. 

“I think it would be best if we did, sweetheart. I just can’t help feeling like we’re keeping her at arms length by keeping it a secret, you know?”

“I agree.” Sirius said quickly. “It feels like she’s more of a guest than actually part of the relationship whilst we’re keeping something so big from her.” 

“I just don’t want her to hate me.” Remus admitted in a whisper.

“Remmy.” James cooed from the other side of Sirius. “Our sweet little Puffle seems completely incapable of hatred. But you know we’ve got your back 110% if she’s not accepting of you, right?”

The other two nodded in agreement but Remus only grimaced. “It just feels like I’d be ruining the relationship for all of you if the only person she has a problem with is me.” 

“Impossible.” Sirius replied emphatically. “Anyone who has a problem with you has a problem with us, Moons.”

“Even if we weren’t dating, Rem, if someone didn’t respect my friend - or anyone, for that matter - because of their lycanthropy, I wouldn’t want them around anyways.” Lily agreed.

“I don’t think we’ll have a problem, though.” Sirius continued. “Like Prongs said, she’s our sweet girl; I’m sure she’ll handle this fine.”

“Where is she, anyway?” James said, flipping his wrist to check his watch. “She was supposed to meet us like twenty minutes ago.” 

The other three shared a look of bemusement. 

“Do you have the map?” Sirius asked.

James quickly pulled the map from his book bag to scan the parchment for your name. “It says she’s in the Hufflepuff common room?”

“Maybe she forgot?” Lily mused.

“I spoke to her at dinner; she said she was going to change out of her uniform and then meet us here.” Remus replied, feeling his heart rise to his throat with nerves. 

What if she knew? What if she already found out? What if she hated him? 

“Rem, it’s alright.” Lily placated, clearly seeing his concern etched onto his face. “Maybe she wasn’t feeling well, or got caught up with something else.”

“She’s never bailed on us before…” James admitted, looking just as worried as Remus was. “Maybe we should check on her?”

“Why don’t we give her tonight; I think after all the shite we put her through this week, she’s allotted one missed date.” Sirius decided, opting to keep his tone light as he teased Remus for his ‘pre-moon angstiness’ as his partners call it.   

“We’ll catch up with her tomorrow.” Lily decided; and Remus and James shared a look of concern as they relented to study for the upcoming Herbology test without you. 

You weren’t really mad at the Gryffindor’s for their decision to end things with you; at least not at first.

People were allowed to change their minds, and you supposed that was the purpose of dating, right? To see if the person you’re interested in is someone you want to keep around indefinitely?

So, people were allowed to change their mind, and that was okay.

You also couldn’t particularly blame them; you were shy, quiet, timid, awkward in most social settings and certainly not as adventurous as them, it was only a matter of time before they grew bored of you. 

So you hadn’t been mad at them, not at first. 

But you were growing increasingly annoyed at their attempts to force themselves within your space. 

You had opted to sit at the Hufflepuff table for breakfast the next morning; there was no sense sitting at the Gryffindor table with them anymore.

But then you couldn’t handle the feeling of your heart splintering every time you heard Sirius’ bark of laughter or Lily’s giggle at something Remus said or that James did. So you quickly scarfed down your toast and grabbed a muffin to shove in your bag before fleeing from the Great Hall.

What you didn’t notice was James noticing you only as you were leaving, looking incredibly worried.

You nearly shrieked when you exited your Astronomy class that you had with the Ravenclaws and slammed into Sirius’ frame.

“There you are, dolly! We missed you this morning!” He proclaimed as he pressed a kiss to your cheek. 

You quickly collected yourself; heart racing from the scare and then quickly migrating to your throat out of embarrassment and hurt at this familiarity you had with him only to be about to lose it.

“Sorry, I had been running late.” You said quickly as you headed for the stairs; the long-haired boy quickly keeping up with your steps. 

“Were you feeling alright?” He asked you.

“How do you mean?”

Sirius tilted his head slightly as he considered you. “Well, you didn’t show up to the library last night, and then you were running late this morning; that’s not like you.”

A hot frustrated emotion burned in your chest that you weren’t completely accustomed to feeling. 

Wasn’t he the one to say he couldn’t live like this anymore?

It wasn’t fair of you to be frustrated though, which frustrated you even more; he didn’t know that you had shown up to the library last night, nor that you had gotten to the Great Hall on time.

They hadn’t even noticed you this morning. 

And that’s why they were ending things; you were forgettable, ignorable, unnoticeable. 

“I’m fine, Sirius. Thank you.” You said simply, and quickly headed for the girl’s loo in order to shake him off. 

Remus had approached you in Care of Magical Creatures as well, which somehow hurt more.

Perhaps it was because you knew he was going to be the one to tell you that things were over; though you had thought he’d be better than to break up with you in the middle of class. 

“Hey, dove.” He said as he gently nudged your arm with his elbow; watching as you groomed the puffskein on your table. 

“Hey, Remus.” You said quietly, not removing your eyes from the Beast you were working with.

“I missed you last night.” He admitted quietly. 

Did you? You thought petulantly. 

“Sorry.” You murmured instead. 

“You don’t have to be sorry.” He said as he leaned his elbows on your workbench; if it had been any other student, you’re certain Professor O’Brien would have scolded him for not handling the beasts with adequate caution, but Remus seemed to be allowed certain privileges and the puffskein “Kujo” didn’t seem to mind him much. “I just missed you is all.” 

And he was smiling that sweet, soft smile at you and he seemed like he actually meant it which only further contributed to your ire. 

What happened to ripping the bandaid off? Why keep up this affectionate act if it was only going to end?

Remus looked like he was going to say something when the Professor announced the end of class. 

“I’ll catch up with you later.” You offered quickly before you all but threw Kujo back into his pen and took off towards the castle.

The final straw had to be Herbology, though.

You shared Herbology with the Gryffindors, and because you were a new addition - your the four Gryffindor’s all shared a potting bench whilst you worked alongside another Hufflepuff.

Today, however, it appeared that James had other plans.

Before Sadie-Jane could take her seat beside you, James had plopped himself - rather carefully for the notoriously boisterous quidditch chaser, mind you - on the stool beside you.

“Hey, angel.”

Again, with the pet names. 

It felt torturous at this point; part of you wanted to rip the bandaid off yourself.

But you looked over at the sweet, warm, inviting face of James Potter and any resolve to tell him to shove it completely dissipated. He was all messy curls, round frames, and warm eyes.

And you might have been [must have been] mistaken, but you felt you could see anxiety and worry painted in his features.

You supposed breaking up with someone could do that to a person, though.

“Hi Jamie.” You whispered back as you opted to ready your supplies for today’s lesson.

“I was wondering if you were going to come to the game tonight?” He blurted then, looking slightly embarrassed at his outburst. 

Right…the game. The game against Slytherin. The game that would have you sitting between Remus and Lily as they cheered for James and Sirius. That game. 

“I...uhm, well…”

Rip the bandaid off. 

But it was James. 

And you were in class.

And you could see Lily and Remus trying - and failing - to not look like they were watching you and James whilst Sirius had no such qualms and was actively staring at the two of you. 

“Yeah, I’ll…I’ll see.” You offered James, mustering up what you hoped was a convincing enough smile.

You could tell by the divot that appeared in James’ brows that you were not convincing in the slightest.

Thankfully Professor Sprout appeared then, instructing everyone to take their seats for class to begin, and Sadie-Jane came to claim her seat from the Gryffindor. 

You didn’t go to the game that night.

Gryffindor lost. 

And though you didn’t know at the time, James cried, but it wasn’t about losing to Slytherin. 

“So, why are you hiding in the dorms?” Caroline asked as she rolled away from her open magazine on her bed, clearly preferring potential drama you could offer her than whatever was in this week's Witch Weekly. 

“I’m not hiding.” You muttered back, not looking up from your cross-stitch you were working on instead of, you know, dealing with your problems. 

“Right.” Caroline agreed, not sounding like she agreed with you at all. “That’s why you’ve started and quit several hobbies over the weekend and have been going to the kitchen’s to grab food instead of eating in the Great Hall like a normal person.”

You looked over at your half finished gem ‘paint-by-numbers’, the scarf you’d crocheted that looked more like the skin of a messed up snake that had a terrible time shedding, and the guitar you had borrowed from Fenwick and nearly broke in a fit of rage when you couldn’t get it to sound the way you wanted it too.

“I just…can’t face them right now.” You admitted dejectedly.

“I don’t blame you. Helga, have you seen the lot of them? If I’d known they were accepting more I would have made my shot.” She mused as she laid back on her bed.

Grief and jealousy intertwined within you as you thought about them dating anyone else but you.

But you supposed that was their prerogative; they were allowed to change their minds. 

“Yeah well, you may still have a chance.” You muttered, capturing Caroline’s attention.

“What?” She asked quickly, but you didn’t have a chance to answer before there was a knock on the door. 

“Were you expecting anyone?” She asked with a salacious wink, causing you to glare at her.

“If it’s them, I’m not here; please.” You practically begged your roommate as she rolled her eyes and moved to the door to your dorm room. 

“Oh, hello Evans.” Caroline greeted, causing you to scrunch your eyes closed from your place currently hidden from view of the door. 

“Hi! Erm, is Y/N around?” Lily asked, sounding uncharacteristically awkward.

“Uh…no, she’s not in right now. I can let her know you stopped by, though?” Caroline offered.

You heard Lily thank her before Caroline closed the door again. 

“You sure you don’t want them? ‘Cause those Gryffindor’s are fine.” She sighed as she returned to her bed.

She let out a squawk when your pillow made contact with her head. 

Lily stepped out through the barrel to find Sirius and Remus exactly where she had left them (albeit far more tense) as James came running from down the hall where he had been pacing nervously. 

“Well?” James asked.

Lily pursed her lips. “Her roommate said she wasn’t there.”

Remus looked down at the map to the place where your name was etched beside your roommate’s in the seventh year Hufflepuff girls’ dormitory. 

Either the map was faulty [fat chance], or you were avoiding them.

It was official. 

For whatever reason, they were losing you. 

You had somehow managed to avoid the Gryffindor’s all Monday; taking a moment to thank every deity that you only had Divination with the Gryffindor house, and none of your Gryffindor’s had opted to take it.

You wondered if you could call them your Gryffindor’s anymore…

You had run over to the kitchens - all but a hop skip and a jump from your common room - to grab dinner and were stepping back out through the portrait of the pears when you came face to face with Sirius.

“So nice to see you, Y/N; I’d almost forgotten what your face looked like.” He said; his tone taking on a harsh tone you weren’t accustomed to hearing directed at you causing you to wince.

“Pads…” Remus warned from behind him, though he was looking at you just as warily as Sirius was.

As was James and Lily.

Shit. 

“I’m glad to see you’re still eating…” Remus commented dejectedly as he nodded towards your smorgasbord of a plate that Winky had helped prepare for you that now looked horribly unappetising. 

“I…yes. Erm, what are you guys doing here?” You tried.

It had, apparently, been the wrong thing to say.

Sirius let out a derisive scoff. “Cut the bullshit, Y/N. What the hell has gotten into you?”

“Sirius.” Lily warned.

“Would you guys stop?” He barked back at them before returning his burning gaze back to you. “I’m tired of this; of running around the school looking for you, of being disappointed every time you bail on us, of having to hold James whilst he cries because you’ve let him down, of being lied to. So I’m going to ask again - what the hell has gotten into you?”

“Nothing has gotten into me…” You tried to argue, though it sounded feeble even to your own ears. 

James had cried? You made James cry…

The disappointment in Remus’ eyes, the concern in Lily’s, the anger in Sirius’, the sadness in James’... it was too much, too much, too much. 

“You’re going to stand there and lie to my sodding face?” Sirius asked incredulously.

“Sirius, stop it.” James ordered; his voice far more severe than you have ever heard from him. “Angel, please. Just…just tell us what’s wrong. Tell me what I can do to fix this.”

Any sadness that had settled in your chest bubbled into anger at his word choice.

“Fix this?” You repeated back to him. “Why? Why bother fixing anything if you’re all just going to leave me!?” 

The four Gryffindor’s stood staring at you with different levels of bemusement; Lily and Sirius at your words, Remus and James at you having raised your voice for the first time…well…ever. 

“What do you mean ‘leave you’?” Lily asked cautiously, causing you to scoff. 

“I heard you guys - in the library.”

“In the library? But…you never showed?” James asked.

“Yes, I did - and I heard you guys talking about me, so I decided to stay out of your way thinking that maybe I’d make it easier on you all. But then you’ve spent the past week absolutely torturing me; showing up at my classes, trying to sit beside me, showing up to my dorm room like you weren’t just biding your time.”

“Y/N, what exactly did you hear us say in the library?” Remus queried.

“That you couldn’t do this anymore! That someone ‘had to tell me’ because it was ‘getting out of hand’. That you couldn’t possibly live like this anymore and hopefully I’d just understand. And I do! I do understand; but what I don’t understand is what the point of chasing me around the bloody castle is if you-”

“Whoa, whoa. Okay, alright just breathe, darling, I’m sorry.” Lily attempted to placate, holding her hands up as she approached like you were some kind of feral cat.

You sort of acted like one when you swatted her hands away from you.

“No! No, it’s not fair! I’m sorry if I’m too much, or if I’m not enough; I get it, okay? I do; sometimes it doesn’t work out and that’s fair but if that’s how you feel then just leave me alone!” You shouted back, feeling the tears trailing down your neck at this point. 

“Y/N, please, listen okay? Just relax and we can talk this out.” Lily tried again as James let out a pained breath that sounded awfully close to a sob. 

“Remus, please.” He begged, turning his pooling hazel eyes to his scarred boyfriend who was looking at you in abject horror. “Please.”

“Y/N, you’ve misunderstood, dove. I-I’m sorry, It’s my fault, but what you heard…that wasn’t us talking about breaking up with you. I… It was about me.”

You wiped angrily at your face and set your now cold plate on the ground - you weren’t hungry anymore anyways. “It’s not you, it’s me?” You sneered half-heartedly.

“No, no…Merlin, Y/N I- I’m a werewolf. Okay? I have lycanthropy, I was bitten when I was four; that’s where I go once a month and why I get…weird. We were talking about the fact that I needed to tell you because it was hurting us to keep it from you. Dovey, I’m so sorry you’ve been so upset. Please, please take a breath for me.” 

You held your hands over your eyes as you tried to control your breathing.

Sketchiness…tension…disappearances… 

“You’re going to have to say something to her, Rem; this is getting out of hand”

“Can’t we just ignore this? Just for a little longer? I mean, it can’t be that bad?”

“Y/N’s so sensitive though… How do you tell her something like that?”

“It has to come from Remus.” 

“I don’t bloody care how we tell her, but we have to say something; I cannot keep living like this, it’s exhausting.”

“I’m sorry you guys. I thought we could ignore it but…I don’t think we can anymore.”

“I think we ought to just rip the bandaid off and hope she understands.”

“I’m a werewolf. I have lycanthropy…that’s where I go once a month.” 

“Please…baby, please say something. I-I’m so sorry.” You heard Sirius plead quietly; his shaky voice in stark contrast from the way he’d been barking at you just moments before. 

You pulled your wet hands away from your eyes to see all four of them looking at you with nothing but worry and heartache on their faces; though none looked quite as vulnerable as Remus did. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” He whispered.

You sucked in a shuddering breath as more tears fell. “So…you don’t hate me?”

Remus let out a disbelieving laugh when you heard what sounded suspiciously like a sob from James.

“No! No, no dove, that- I’m rather quite in love with you, you know?” He pressed, daring to step closer to you. “Do you hate me?” He asked then, tone turning vulnerable once more.

“No.” You whined emphatically. 

“Oh my poor girl.” Sirius whined sympathetically. 

“Can I hug you? Please?” James all but begged, stepping in front of you with his arms open already; poised for you to say…

“Yes.”

You’re not sure he even waited for the affirmation to leave your lips before he had you encased in his arms.

You shoved your face into his chest and fisted his shirt in your hands; pulling him as close as you possibly could to your person. 

You weren’t sure how long you’d been standing there - directly in front of the kitchens and awfully close to your own common room - sniffling into James’ shirt as he sniffled into your hair, but you heard a sniffle come from beside you.

You turned to see Sirius’ grey eyes shiny and red as he looked at you imploringly. 

“I’m so sorry I yelled at you, sweetness. I’m such an arse I just…I-”

“It’s okay.” You whispered.

“No it’s not.” Sirius argued immediately. “I…I get like that sometimes; just horribly defensive and then I go on the offensive first. I didn’t even give you a chance to talk to us before I was attacking you; I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, Siri.” You offered again, holding a hand out to him which he took readily. 

“I can’t believe you’ve spent this whole week believing we wanted nothing to do with you.” Lily whined from your other side. “I’m so sorry we left you feeling like that, darling girl.”

Though you were quite content in your muscled hideaway, you pulled away from James’ chest to wipe at your face again, feeling awfully self-conscious of how blotchy your face must look from your tears.

“I shouldn’t have assumed.” You admitted shamefully; voice scratchy from both the shouting and the crying.

“The way you described it, I can understand how our conversation sounded to you, babygirl.” Sirius contended. 

“So…you’re really not leaving me?” You asked again.

“I feel like I should be asking you that, dove.” Remus replied.

“Why would I be leaving you?”

Lily shared a knowing look with Sirius and James who in turn moved their gazes to Remus with expressions reading “see?”. 

“Not everyone would be accepting of a werewolf.”

You felt your eyebrows furrow as you looked at the others as if saying “are you hearing this right now?” 

“But…I love you? I…I don’t even know what else to say…I just… love you so, that’s fine.”

“I just love you so that’s fine.” Sirius repeated as he looked at Remus arrogantly. “I knew I should have placed a bet on how she’d respond; I’d have made five galleons!”

“We were not going to bet on how our girlfriend would respond to Remus’ furry little problem, Sirius.” Lily chided as she playfully swatted at his shoulder. 

“Besides,” James added, pulling you closer into his side again. “You would have lost because I don’t think any of us would have bet that she’d misinterpret our disastrous conversation as us trying to leave her and then spend the week believing we were waiting for the perfect time to break up with her only for us all to shout and cry when we realised what happened.”

“No, that's true.” Sirius agreed readily, looking back at you with sympathy. “I really am sorry, baby.”

“Me too.” Lily continued.

“Me most of all.” Remus added.

“I knew we should have gone looking for her that night.” James mused aloud mostly to himself. “Could have saved us all a lot of heartache.” 

“Yeah, yeah Prongs. You’re right again; I’m sure we’ll never live it down.” Sirius said with a playful eye roll. 

“How can we make it up to you?” Lily asked as she placed her hand at the juncture of your neck and shoulder and traced shapes along the column of your neck with her thumb.

You shook your head shyly and looked at your feet. “It’s not necessary guys.”

“Nonsense.” Sirius scoffed.

“Let’s start with some dinner, yeah? And maybe a cwtch in the boys’ dorm upstairs?” Remus offered to the group, though he seemed to be waiting for you to answer.

You nodded at him and he opened his arms in invitation which you accepted readily.

“I’m sorry, dovey.” He whispered into your hair.

“I’m sorry too, Rem.”

“Let’s never fight again.” James decided enthusiastically as Lily and Sirius stepped through the pear portrait into the kitchens.

“Sounds good to me, bubs.” Remus agreed as he bent down to press a kiss to James’ lips whilst keeping you secured to his side.

You were sure that after this week, these four wouldn’t be letting you out of their reach.

After this week, you weren’t sure you minded that at all.

[josnhoes]

Platonic!Yan batfam with young adult reader. Part 5

[Part 4]

Note: Reader is 18-22 years old. Gn reader

Content warning: being treated like a child, being looked down on, obsessions, soft yandere but still a yandere, reader has memory issues and it's ambiguous as to why, delusional batfam, batfam as a whole basically view you as a child younger then Damien despite you being older, dissociation, abduction, drugging, so many lies

Focus Bruce Wayne (all his POV)

-----

Bruce hadn't wanted you to ever see the cruelty of the world. It's why he and your siblings worked so hard to prepare a room for you in the manor as swiftly as they could. You were too good for Gotham, maybe even the world. He wanted your integration into the family as seemless as possible. Painless too. But maybe he should have listened to his youngest after that first visit of his.

Damian had been insistent you couldn't handle life on your own. That you needed them to care for you, which he agreed with! He just also knew he couldn't just take you. They were heros they couldn't just abduct you. He told Damian and the others to treat you like a feral cat. Stay close but give you space, step in when need be and let you warm up to them. And look what happened.

You were barely here mentally. The trauma haze and shock yet to leave you, if not made worse by the lie *he* told you. You'd forgive him once you were better, you'd realize he was just doing what he had to do as your father. The risk of you going home was too great now.

He remembered the panic when you woke up in the room the family had made for you in the cave. He had been there in costume. The sight of him had managed to calm you. He was glad for that, it meant you thought of him as safe. You shouldn't considering he lied to your face.

The lie was simple one, easily kept up by the entire family. The mugging you had seen planted a target on you. The woman you tried to save, her parents were well-known crimelords in Star City, and they blamed *you* for their daughter's death. A hit was out on you; so you had to stay here with them until it was safe.

The news had made the shock you were in worse, making your mental state deteriorate more than when you'd first arrived. But he was happy to see the moments where the fog lifted, where you opened up to them again. Once he was sure you were attached, he'd let them all meet you outside of the costumes but that was a while away.

By the third day you'd gone from a husk to a crying mess. They'd all tried to consol you even himself. He made a promise that soon things would get better. And they would! You'd join the family, he'd spoil you with anything and everything you could dream of. You'd be in the manor properly and not in the cave.

Your sadness was a knife in his heart. Like any good parent, he just wanted you to be safe and happy. Bruce knew that for now, safety was key. Still he wouldn't lie again and say he wasn't envious when one of your siblings got you to smile. So far Damian and Jason had been the ones managing to get you to relax best. The nickname Sparky had taken over among all of them.

There were a few moments where your panic would rise up, you'd demand to know when you could go home becoming hysterical at the idea of losing your job and subsequently your home. He knew you wouldn't lose your home since it was here with them as for a job? You were still so young you didn't need one. Still, you'd work yourself up so much that whoever was near had to drug you. The tranquilizer was a gentle one. You were only out a few hours and much calmer when you came to. The downside is you forgot a lot that happened, though for now, that was a blessing.

He couldn't wait for you to meet his father figure, your grandfather Alfred. Sure, you'd met him when you first got here, but you didn't remember it. It's probably for the best, considering you'd likely have put the 2 and 2 together before he was ready for you to have that information.

Bruce reached over to your resting form and fixed the blanket that had fallen off of your shoulder. Soon, you'd take your place in the family, and no one was having an easy time waiting for it.

[g1rlken]

┏ 𝐅𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐌𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐬 ┐

1. Part, Alex turner x actress!reader

summary: ugly break up and working together

warnings: smear campaigns, Twitter incels, award season, depression

word count: 4.8k+

-

Relationships become a hurdle of choreographing well being when you’re going through a difficult period in life. The one person that’s supposed to be wholly yours becomes another face to mask with. Empathy feels good for a week, two weeks, a month. As the days would stack up it would just feel like a customised emotion, a weight. That’s how y/n felt, her relationship with Alex had seen a lot of ups and downs over their year and a half together. A lot of fights, long distances, miscommunications but it never weighed them down nor their relationship. They always came back stronger after a set back as such. However such shaky career hurdles were only ever seen by Alex, writer’s block, studio pressure, album press, billboard charts, the critics it was a coin toss on fate and he’d often land on the difficult side. But he had a lot of years in the industry and a well composed mind to these things.

Maybe her issues were difficult, Hollywood is eitherways a harsher ground for women. Especially the acting industry, she was facing method acting allegations by one of her elderly costars of old fashion. Not that method acting was concept of bad light in modern day cinema but the characters of the show were very demanding maybe some bitterness towards y/n however she never paid any mind to those when it started. Even her costars all took it lightly, the method acting questions started coming up in almost all promotions, either that or her relationship. She handled that with grace too, all until the emmys. The Emmys where she won one, a shining star in the tapestry of her young career. Amidst her speech a stand up show host had a set organised. Seemingly she wasn’t priorly informed about it being found dumbfounded on stage. In front of everyone, the same joke of being an alleged method actor made an imprint on her first ever Emmy. Everyone present just laughed like they would through a normal set, they laughed at her, she felt like the world ended. After that function she felt increasingly uncomfortable with herself, a laughingstock. Twitter was divided like it always is, she would just focus on those who added to the joke. Witty jabs. Variety articles behind y/l/n’s Emmy fiasco.

Alex tried. Alex tried really hard, he forced screens away from her. WiFi in their house only for certain hours and he’d supervise it, weekend getaways for her almost every weekend. She just seemed to not escape it, losing her appetite even. Alex was the cook between the two of them, meals would take hours and hours for her to get it down and he would sit with her without a complaint. He loved her truly unconditionally and he was aware it was genuinely hard for her. Such smear campaign was very hard to escape. When she started having sleep issues as well he forcibly suggested therapy. Y/n truly believed she wasn’t meant for therapy, she wasn’t ’therapy audience’ and he consoled her very hard into joining it. Eventually she did and it just added to the shitshow. Apparently the therapist found her difficult to work through, it lasted barely 2 weeks and the therapist referred her to someone else. It became public and her therapist’s statement was “The most difficult patient in all of my career.” Maybe it was the amateur hour for the therapist or maybe it wasn’t meant in a better light but social media smear campaign treated it like a festival.

As weeks progressed everything else seemed increasingly difficult. Especially Alex. Seeing his life, his new normal which would start and end with her well being and nothing would change with her mental state either. Alex was giving out so much of himself yet she couldn’t find it in herself to actually smile even. That guilt was worse than everything else. She let that guilt consume her for a while until she finally decided to do something about it.

That evening, after dinner she finally put a stone on her heart and decided to lay that conversation to him. Guiding him to sit across her on the sofa of their shared place she took his hands into hers “Alex, no one else has stood by me the way you have, these two whole months. It’s the worst thing that’s happened to me perhaps ever and you’ve been with me through it. Just how the cliches say it-like my rock.” She said patiently “I feel like I’m not making any progress but if it weren’t for you I would’ve been at a worse place and” she took in a shaky breath before continuing a long pause following something Alex had no idea of.

“Just how you’ve been around for me.” He said holding her hands in his right her “And what we are isn’t for cliches or for saying y/n, I love you and despite of you being at your lowest as long as I have you, I have all I need. We’ve had rough patches before we’ve been alright and we will be even-“

“Just…just let me finish yeah?” Y/n interrupted him looking down their hands because looking into his eyes which carried soft love was so much harder. “You’re giving away too much of yourself. You don’t see it but I do, you’ve made my well being some sort of a passion project of yours and I understand you want the best for me I really do. But I have to look out for you too, and, I feel like this isn’t fair to you. We’re not working out…we won’t.”

A very long silence followed as Alex stared at her comprehending that, “what?” he huffed in denial “what do you mean?” He asked as if it would change what she meant.

“Alex…” she brought his hands closer to her “you need to do better in life, better than this. You have so much potential to give out, into yourself, into your career and you’ve spent so much on me already. I can’t keep you for me like this…we should…part.”

“I am passionate about you what do you mean passion project? I am in love with you and I want to help you. Just how you’d help me don’t you see it? So you don't get to decide that for me and my potential. It’s mine.” Alex stated firmly.

“Exactly. It’s yours! You’re pouring it all out into me—you’re draining yourself-“

“None of that is for you to decide!” Alex stopped her sentence midway leaving her hands out of his to run his hands through his hair out of frustration.

“Fine…” y/n seemed bad with confrontation and she didn’t want to paint herself out to be a bad lover in his history books years from now but she didn’t know how else to not do that. He was hurting unknowingly. “But this is for me to decide and I have. W-we need to..” she couldn’t even find it in herself to finish that sentence. “Break up.”

“No.” Alex stated so casually like she just asked her a very simple question, as if it was a question. “No we do not. We don’t need to do any such thing.”

“Alex…” she sighed looking away, his denial was breaking her heart. Tears formulated her eyes as she thought about how much this will hurt him.

“What Alex? No: I’m refusing.” He shrugged, very nonchalantly shrugging. Declining her wish as he didn’t even look at her.

“Alex please” she said as she gently cupped his face to look at her, “you don’t realise this…you have been putting yourself through so much for me. This-this is difficult I know, but you’ll be better after this.”

“Y/n, listen to me” he shifted in his seat to face her. “You don’t get to decide this for me. You are going through a tough time and I will not leave you.”

“You haven’t written a piece in two months..you don’t even go to the studio. You barely leave me alone to work with anything else!” She pointed out, all these bits of his habits were vanishing out and she had noticed it all. Being an early riser he’d go for a run around the block but nowadays he’d just time how many hours she had slept because of her issues. Time her vitamins and supplements. Plan things with her and only her as if he wasn’t supposed to have a life of his own.

“I have a writer’s block!” He exclaimed growing increasingly hurt and frustrated that this is how she viewed him helping her. She sounded like a burden to herself but he had never considered one to himself and he hated that she felt that way.

“Because you’re so occupied with me!” She exclaimed back with a sigh rubbing her eyes and looked away, uncrossing her legs on the couch.

“That’s just your assumption y/n you don’t know how my process works and you shouldn’t come to conclusions about things you don’t know.” Alex tried to reason with her even if she was right he couldn’t care less. She was important to him and she needed his full attention.

“Could you please just listen to me Alex…I don’t want to stay within this-“ y/n replied trying to find the right words.

“With me. You don’t want to stay with me.” He rephrased her sentence giving it to her as raw as he fathomed.

“Yes.” Taking in a deep breath she finally let it out because he wasn’t listening to her without brutal honesty. “Yes I don’t.”

“That just isn’t true-that’s not right you’re too tired today that’s all.” Alex replied, he wanted to point it maybe she was also hungry but he kept that for more persuasion.

“Alex, please.” Y/n breathed taking her head in her hands because none of her reasonings got into her head.

He just shook his head in response as the silence weighed heavy between the two of them. Tears streamed down her face as they sat there, Alex was more fine with this tension than he was with being without her. “We just can’t…y/n.” Alex said.

“I’m really sorry” she said as she looked back up at him teary eyed. The tears seemingly made everything difficult for sure. “It’s going to be alright…” she wiped her tears and looked away again. His sad gaze was so gutting to look at and talk at the same time it felt like it would stick with her, hauntingly, even after she leaves.

“But it’s alright already” He urged shifting closer to her and wrapping an arm around her trying to meet her eyes but she kept her gaze fixated at the coffee table.

“That’s what you want to think” she said softly with a heavy heart. “I don’t want to do this either Alex…it’s for the best.”

If it were for the best he wouldn’t be feeling his heart sink lower and his breath shortening. His vision becoming fuzzy already as tears brimmed in his eyes as well. But he wanted to handle this more delicately. “It isn’t, you know it isn’t.” He sniffled. “This isn’t what I want and I know it’s not what you want either, why do you feel this way? This need to run?”

“I’m not running Alex” I’m setting you free, she didn’t say out loud “I’ve been thinking about this a lot and…and this is going to hurt. It will hurt for a while but you’ll get over it.”

“Get over you? Y/n I don’t plan on leaving you” he said still drowning in denial. Stern denial and blind faith he could fix this mess, if he talked to her more. He could fix this mess, if he asked her sleep on it. He could fix this mess, if he held her closer. So he did. “Y/n look at me, look at me.” He forced her to face him. “This isn’t a rational solution. You are going through so much and you are thinking too much but this is a mistake. What we have is bigger than our problems-“

“Alex.” She stopped him midway, staring into his teary eyes with hers the same “This is my problem. You try to make to make it ours, helping me through it is one thing but this is taking up too much effort and energy in your life don’t you get that?”

Alex had never felt this defeated all his life. No reasoning seemed to get to him. He couldn’t digest that she let such thoughts mature for about a week and never once preferred to talk to him about it but just became sure about it. When the fact that she felt so distant from him to not even bring it up brought him to flowing tears. Taking his face into his hands he cried. Breaking down, y/n never saw him like this and she had seen him go through supposedly tougher situations. “You can’t do this to me” he said, his voice parched and eyes red.

The thought of leaving the next day in the morning, sleeping in different bedrooms and hugging him a goodbye at breakfast was so done now. If she didn’t leave now she won’t be able to leave ever. Just holding his face in her hands as her tears streamed down her face reciprocating his. She couldn’t even muster the courage to mouth a sorry. She glanced away at her keys and wallet by the side table. It hit her like a truck when she realised there won’t be a goodbye tomorrow but today. This very moment. She slowly got her car keys and wallet and put them on her side. “It’s going to be okay…” she said sighing. Cupping his face in her hands as he reciprocated the action holding her hands and staring into her eyes.

“No it’s not” he replied with heavy grief laced in his voice. Why wouldn’t she do anything to change this? Why would she let it be this way? He felt helpless to how she firm she was about this. He placed his lips onto hers holding her closer by her waist as she cradled his face. It time were to stop he’d prefer death over letting her go. As they kissed he realised how temporary this moment will be and how this memory will bite him with sharp teeth of yearning. He couldn’t stomach the thought that she would be a memory. Visit him in nostalgia and come up in conversations and that would be all?

Eventually she pulled away from their kiss, wiping his tears with her hands as her own surfaced her face too. His dreary eyes had such an effect upon she couldn’t bare it and she softly kissed him again. His hands would still not let her go. As moments passed in holding each other and the kisses broke she realised it was time. “Goodbye, Alex.” She spoke with a voice barely above whisper because the sound of her voice breaking was louder.

His eyes widened as he realised she was leaving, now. He had barely come to terms with the fact that she was leaving. He held her hand back as she tried standing up. “You’re leaving?” His voice broke as he asked that. Y/n didn’t have it in herself to answer him what he already knew she just looked at him apologetically. Apology she knew she didn’t deserve at this very moment. “You can’t just leave right now-think about this. Sleep on it, if you still want to go leave next week?”

His negotiations seemed to know no bounds and the bargain was to get him nowhere. It would probably make him worse if she stayed. If she stayed after this. “Alex-“

“You can’t even drive in this state y/n absolutely not-if you want a break from me we could just sleep in separate bedrooms I won’t bother you-“ he tried to come up with all possible alternatives.

Her heart sank further realising how further he'd go just to make her stay. It solidified her decision of her leaving because he would always chose her above himself, even at the expense of himself hurting. She had to love him enough to let him go. “Alex…” she breathed stopping him midway “I have to.” Shaking her head she stood up to leave but didn’t see him stand up at the corner of her eyes. Somewhat relived it wouldn’t be harder to walk out that door perhaps. As she clutched her keys and wallet she felt a tug at her leg.

Looking behind to see Alex on his knees for her, it was perhaps the worst sight ever her tears reciprocating his again before he even spoke. “Y/n I beg of you please don’t go” he said as he wrapped his arms around her legs, on his knees weeping for her.

Trying to remain balanced on her footing against his grip, “don’t do this” she pleaded as her voice broke and she knelt to his level. “Please don’t make this harder.” She cried choking on her words and held his hands. Alex held her hands back very tightly.

“It doesn’t have to be hard at all” he spoke through tears as she sat close to him he brought her closer naturally settling onto his lap. As she cried and wiped his tears more just streamed down his face, “We can make it out of this y/n please, trust me please have some faith in us”

The desperation in his voice, the tears and his words it was all so gutting. This would me one of those moments she would perhaps never recover from. If she ever finds happiness again she felt like it would be at the expense of this, it would be hard for him. Very hard, but he would do so much better if she left. It was evident how much he was willing to give even to the last moment, it was concerning. “You can’t love someone this hard” y/n held his face in her hands and told him sternly “I am very miserable and I’m bringing you the same pain-over and over. This is it Alex. You won’t hurt again at the hands of me and I’m sorry it is this way…” she told him. He had no words but tears to shed. He sat absolutely defeated with her entangled in his arms. Neither he said anything nor did she.

Y/n held him back wrapping her arms around him giving him a hug or maybe hiding his teary face from herself and likewise. Rubbing his back as she hugged him sitting upon his lap. He buried his face by her neck holding her close. If the world were to end he wouldn’t care because it already did for him. The thought that this was probably the last time she would be in his arms like this made his agony worsen.

They just held each other for almost a whole hour, her head resting by his chest as they sat intertwined. The silent and slow understanding of the end. Some picture frames on the coffee table and the wall ahead, somewhat blurry because of the tears, those memories came back so much clearer. There will be no more and these will just remain pictures. Alex let out a shudder of a breath at that thought. “Where will you go?” He asked her in a tone just above a whisper.

“To my dad’s.” She replied softly without looking back up at him nor attempting to shift away from his grip. Last of his warmth. Theirs.

“He was just starting to like me…” he spoke as a soft chuckle escaped him through the tears and y/n’s followed. He would often joke with her that her dad ‘hated him’ because he was rather stern to him and she would always tell him otherwise. In truth he may be but what did it all matter now? He looked down at her in his arms when she let out a little laugh too but then quivering, broke down in his arms. He kissed the top of her head with silent consoling and holding her with the last of his love she’d let him give her.

The night wouldn’t last forever just like them and she finally left. With much courage and a heavy heart out of his arms and then their shared place. Alex couldn’t watch her leave and he did not. The last glimpse he caught of her face before he kissed the top of her head. He would think back to this for a long while and he wanted to remember her beautiful face and not her leaving him. She left and the door shut, on their house and their life together.

-

A job is a job. However excruciating and beaten down, it finds you on your face but you’re bound to return. Y/n did as well. Over half a year, she started working again. Lived with her dad to make a comeback to the one place that would have ever even after everything. Her career made a turn eventually the Twitter smear campaigns wear themselves out. Talent comes through in Hollywood despite its vice like grip over its finest stars. Y/n’s project worked out, she avoided the award season despite being nominated but she did walk promotional red carpet for her new project. Time heals.

Time is subjected to heal everything even with some ignited hatred if that be to overcome the hurt. Alex, he grew to despise y/n. The first few months hurt so much, everywhere in the house he’d find his things even after she collected them. There were pieces of her everywhere. Their pictures were what hurt the least. Even after he moved out of the place whose sunrise constantly reminded of her absence of his arm. He kept finding her things everywhere. The longing could surround him for long until he turned all of that sadness into a harsher emotion. It was difficult to teach himself to decline her thoughts, hate her. But he did and that’s when he wasn’t as sad.

When the devil can’t reach you it keeps you on Alex turner’s bad side. Or perhaps send you to him. Just as now, y/n was doing her friend of years, Richard, a favour. Moreover Richard pleaded and begged her to do so. He was making a music video for the arctic monkeys and the studio’s PR team members wanted y/n specially or pull the cord of the entire project. Since her career was booming it would be perfect publicity for the upcoming single and her history with Alex. Y/n would rather not indulge in such at all, especially with Alex. Richard assured her that Alex wouldn’t even be on the set for the music video and it was set in Ireland’s grasslands. Too far for Alex to attend anyways since he wasn’t in the music video.

First day on set after she lands there y/n finds herself treated with warmth with the core team. The operator, the camera team, the crew most of them were faces she’d previously known. Everyone ‘glad’ to see her working again was a comment she was irked with for a while ever since she’d returned to working. They always said it in a comforting tone as if she’d was coming back from jail or so, such patient like sympathy was difficult but not anymore. Very comfortably used to it. Superficial condolences in the best way perhaps.

“Missed you fuckface!” She laughed as she hugged Richard on the set and he joined along. Hugging her back, they’d met after a long while.

“I did too, you jerk.” He laughed and ruffled her hair a bit, she nudged away in response and their inside jokes kept ongoing. Through the conversations it swayed back to being on set and Richard worked her through the video.

“This place is so remote I’m so glad you agreed because nobody else would’ve come this far and Alex wanted just you.” Richard mentioned as he talked her through the cinematic of it.

“Wait, Alex did?” Y/n asked furrowing her brows together. Richard had stated to her that Alex wouldn’t be there at all so him wanting her for the video, ‘just her’ was somewhat unbelievable.

“The record did…it’s kind of the same thing.” Richard replied.

“It’s not” she shrugged given she knew the context conversations between Alex and the record from when they were together. “I’m just so glad he’s not here”

“He’s not a bad person you know” Richard accounted for him thinking the breakup was his fault given how rigid y/n was not wanting to sign up for an AM project.

“Oh no of course not” he’s an angel, she didn’t say out loud. Alex kept whatever happened between them through the break up private. He didn’t even paint her out like someone who wronged him to their mutual friends, when he could’ve done so.

“Then why do you have such a problem with him being here?” Richard asked with voice laced of confusion and curiosity.

“I don’t have a problem just too much-“ drama? Bad memories? Good memories? Regret? All too much perhaps.

“Well that’s great then because he might be here.” Richard spoke hurriedly despite his promise he was just making the video he couldn’t dictate who could and could not be on set. Especially not the lead singer.

“What? What do you mean?” She asked with a dejected scoff, she believed him when he’d promised that Alex won’t be on set. “What do you mean here Richard you told me-“

“I mean here as in he may be around but he’s here for now-“ Richard fumbled with his words mentally preparing for the telling off y/n would inflict on him soon enough.

“Here as in?” She asked raising sharp brow at him crossing her arms.

“As in Ireland…” Richard trailed off and took a cue to hastily add the next information as she took in a sharp breath “Could also be on set”

“On set?!” She exclaimed “right now?”

“I’m not sure okay I don’t know-the video script had some changes and he was needed for some pretext or something. Also, y/n. He’s written this song, it’s his band—I can’t just say no to him if he wants to be on set.” Richard explained. The bickering went on back and forth for a while until a voice from behind broke them.

“Richard!” Alex exclaimed as he paced up to the man, all colour drained and also made her flustered when the air shifted with Alex’s hasty walk to Richard who she stood right beside. Alex greeted Richard with a hug. “This is a beautiful location, fantastic work yeah?”

“Ah thanks mate.” Richard said with a smile as they made a small talk about the set and think pieces. He tried to include y/n in the conversation too but Alex didn’t once look to the side as if she wasn’t even present there. Richard talked about some of the crew to Alex and then, wanting to relay it slowly. “And y/n, you know her of course”

“Right yeah” Alex scoffed and made a somewhat bothered expression, irritated in an instant. He did so as if she truly wasn’t present there. Intimidatingly he stood with his hands on his waist, leather jacket, the classic Alex. Soon enough without casting her as much as a glance he took his leave from the conversation.

She wasn’t ready for this conversation, not that it was a conversation at all. Y/n’s little ‘hi there’ was blatantly ignored by him too but it was all expected. She had planned to not cross paths with him but hypothetically after all that went down she had anticipated him being cold like this. She wasn’t mentally prepared for it, not today. However she didn’t hold it against him by all means he had the right to act this way. Even if she wanted to be somewhat offended by his harshness his pleading face, desperate tone, begging her not to leave on his knees all of it just came flooding back to sink her in regret. If the roles were reversed she would want to be far away from Alex and that’s what she would grant him. Keep her distance.

“So…” Richard trailed off pulling her out of her train of thoughts to talk about the unsolicited harshness. To an outsider, the breakup had been almost 6 months ago and neither of them made any big grievances about it so it was all very odd.

“Don’t.” Y/n shook her head not willing to go into this discourse.

-

I’ll do a few parts to this series let me know if you want to be tagged ;)

Comments and thoughts will be so so so very appreciated please please please let me know

[rogersideup]

｡°✩ ♊︎ The Gemini ♊︎ ✩ °｡

Chapter 2

Wine and Dine

Series masterlist

Previous part: Love You More Next part: Expendable

Word Count: 6,169

Warnings: My blog is 18+ only. All minors or blogs without an age in bio will be blocked. Minors DNI.

Steve wasn't quite sure he had ever ran so fast in his entire life. Wearing a heather grey henley, jeans, and some nice shoes, he knew he probably looked ridiculous as he zoomed by people in the hallways like a gust of wind.

After being deployed on the emergency mission for almost 3 weeks now, you were just about to land at the compound. From what he understood from the gossip floating around the compound, and confirming by the report notifications that popped up in the corner of his computer, it was a really bad one.

Agents were dropping like flies, if felt like every few hours one was being sent back to the compound due to injury or a psychological break. He tried multiple times to get the Avengers on the mission to help clear it out faster, it was obviously way too big for the agents to be handling alone.

Every time he tried, Fury shot him down because there already was an avenger on the mission. Though he agreed and trusted whole heartedly that you could handle it, he knew that if he was in your position, single handedly being the only reason why anything was actually getting done under exhaustive conditions, he'd appreciate another member of his team being sent to him

Not even a full minute ago you had called him in hysterics. He could barely understand you through your cries but he could tell just by the sounds slipping past your throat that you were in unbearable pain. It made his heart pound out of his chest as he tried to console you to the point of being able to understand what had happened.

When Commander Bennet realized that the wind had been knocked out of you, he gently grabbed the phone from your hands and spoke to Steve.

"Captain Rogers?" He quested after reading 'Steve' at the top of your phone screen.

"Yeah, hi, what's going on?" Steve asked frantically.

"Agent 306 is not in good shape. We had some sort of biological weapon hit us hard. It was a pale blue, powdery substance that was causing extreme irritation and almost burn like reaction on any exposed skin it touched." Bennett explained.

"But her tact suit covers most of her skin-" Steve vocalized his thoughts.

"She tried to stop the attack before it got worse, jumped on the attacker's back to yank the weapon out of his hand but..." He sighed. "Agent 212..."

"What did Harvey do?" Steve started seething.

"To put it simply, 212 got in her way. She had it and was about to put the whole mission to an end. I'm not sure if he thought he was going to beat her to it or if he wanted to help, but he threw her off and crashed right into her. The attacker grabbed hold of the collar of her tact suit from the back of her neck and poured a pretty large amount of the powder all the way down her back."

"Oh man, how bad is it?" Steve got up, already knowing where this was leading.

"She's in excruciating pain." He put simply. "We have lab techs on board studying the substance. They said that the effects are only extreme irritation, burns, and stinging pain for upwards of 5 hours. We already informed medical, they said there's not much they can do other than shower her and try to manage the pain with ibuprofen. She said she'd rather just do that at home, and she's asking for you now. Any way you could meet us on the runway?"

"Absolutely, what's the ETA?" Steve asked, walking down the hall towards the Jet landing runway.

"Touch down in a minute-thirty."

"I'll be there." Steve said simply before hanging up.

From where he was in the building, he knew making it to the runway was a five minute walk, so he made it a one minute and thirty second run instead.

He pushed through the doors to get outside onto the runway just as the jet wheels had touched down on the tarmac. The second it stopped moving, he practically ripped the door open with his own two hands and waited very impatiently for the rush of agents disembarking before he could get to you.

Harvey didn't get a chance to pass by Steve without receiving a glare from the soldier that sent an uncomfortable shiver down his spine.

The very second he could, Steve rushed onto the Jet and you were curled up on the floor with your knees to your chest and your face digging into your knee caps. Commander Bennett was at your side trying to comfort you, but you were rocking back and forth to try and manage the pain, and doing your best to muffle your sobs as to not further inconvenience any of the other agents who had to hear you whaling the entire flight home.

Steve sank onto his knees right next to you, and placed a hand on you arm.

"You got it from here, Captain?" Bennett asked.

"Of course." Steve nodded, understanding he had more work to be done.

"Report back to me when you can?" Steve could see the worry in his eyes.

"Yes, sir."

Your commander got up and off the Jet following the other agents, and Steve's heart was still uncomfortably racing around in his chest.

"Hey, Bug." Steve gently squeezed your arm to try and get you to uncurl from your tiny little ball.

"M'sorry to bother you" You cried while lifting your head. Talking through the pain and shortness of air in your lungs was a struggle, but you took a moment and tried your hardest. "It hurts so bad, didn't know what else to do."

"It's okay, you're not a bother to me." He shook his head and got a good look at you.

Your tact suit was covered in smoke and ash, as well as your face. There was a deep scratch along your left cheek bone accompanied by smeared blood, presumably your own, and you jawline on the right side was bruised.

Steve's pounding heart came to a stand still before completely melting into a puddle when you let your forehead fall onto his collarbone. Instinctively, his hand gently cradled the back of your head.

Immediately, you felt safer and calmer in his hold. Letting someone take over your well-being when you had no control was terrifying, but Steve earned your trust more than anyone else in your life ever did. Around him, you knew everything would be okay regardless of the circumstances.

"Are you hurt anywhere else?" He questioned calmly.

"Feels like I ca-can't breathe" You hiccuped.

"I know, I'm sorry." Steve pouted. "Having the wind knocked out of you is normal sometimes when you're in that much pain. It's one of the worst feelings in the world but it'll go away. Just keep taking big deep breaths, it'll start to fade."

"S...still powder in my suit." You warned him. "Careful."

"Okay, we should get it off of you as soon as we can then." He thought out loud knowing that as long as it was still making contact with your skin, you would never start to feel better. "I'm going to get you out of here and up to your apartment okay?"

"Hurts so bad- feel like I can't move." You explained the best you could, internally panicking.

"Can I carry you?" Steve questioned, wanting to make sure he had your permission.

"What if it gets on you?" You questioned, not wanting him to feel the same pain you were in.

"I'm wearing long sleeves and long pants, it'll be okay." He reassured you. "I don't want to hurt your back even more, so wrap your arms around my neck and I'll hold onto the bottom of your legs."

You were happy to wrap your arms gently around his neck, and your legs around his waist as he carefully lifted you up. Without as much as a second thought, you nestled your face into the crook of his neck and continued to let the presence of your best friend comfort you while you focused on trying to catch your breath.

Steve was so focused on his personal mission to make you feel better that he didn't let his mind even entertain his personal feelings for you anymore. Meanwhile, you had an opposite technique to reign in some pain management. Steve smelled so good that the deep breathing with your face shoved into his neck was now a pleasant experience, and momentarily took your mind off the unbearable pain you were in.

Unfortunately his incredible taste in cologne wasn't enough to completely stop your mental and physical pain by the time he got you into your apartment and gently set you down on your own two feet. He offered you his forearm to keep a hold on to steady yourself, he could tell your muscles were overworked, exhausted, and tightly tense.

Steve could feel the hand you kept hold of him with was shaking, as were your legs, and chattering jaw that you tried your hardest to clench shut.

Single handedly, he worked diligently to remove your personal defense weapons that lived in your leg holsters. Grabbing the gun and dagger, he reached behind him and quickly put them in the weapon safe by the door.

Then he led you to the couch and had you sit down, helping you on the way down. He quickly sank to his knees and his fingers untied the laces on your boots and pulled them off your feet before he got to work on removing all the black leather straps and buckles of the holsters on your legs.

He looked up at you momentarily just to make sure you didn't seem uncomfortable by how he was touching you, but your eyes were squeezed shut so tightly and your mind was so far away it felt like you weren't even in the room with him anymore.

"Relax your jaw, Buggy." Steve caught your attention with a small squeeze to your calf before going at the holster on your thigh.

"But it's chattering" You cried, relaxing it to prove it was rattling.

"That's okay, just let it happen." He reassured you.

You nodded, eyes still squeezed shut with occasional tears slipping past them.

"Let all your muscles relax, keep taking big breaths." His sweet voice guided you, moving on from your left leg to your right. "Remember that this pain is temporary, this is the worst of it right now and you're taking it like a champ. You're doing a good job."

Letting your eyes open, you watched him shove his phone between his shoulder and head, freeing both his hands to continue removing pieces of your suit. Then he started talking, throwing around commands, asking for necessary assistance to make sure your suit is properly cleaned and the hazardous substance would be responsibly handled.

At some point, your eyes closed again and you started feeling faint. He stood up, still on the phone and walked away for a moment then came back with a glass of water for you in one hand, and medicine in the other hoping it could at least help jumpstart the pain management.

Then, you heard something that made your eyes rip open.

"Hey Buck, yeah she's okay - in a lot of pain but she's going to be fine. Hey- can you do me a favor? Can you go into my apartment and grab me a change of clothes? Just a shirt and some sweatpants please? Thank you so much, I'll leave the door unlocked for you. See you soon."

You took in his appearance and realized you had completely destroyed his outfit. Smoke and soot had smeared all over his light grey shirt and the the top of his jeans. There was blood on his shoulder from your face, and wet spots from your tears.

"I'm so sorry." You cried, genuinely feeling bad about it. "I ruined your clothes!"

"I'm not worried about it" He denied your apology. "You're more important than a shirt."

"I'll buy you a new one." You shook your head.

"You have bigger fish to fry at the moment, Bug." Steve said sweetly. "Let's get you in the shower now. The faster this gets washed off of you the better."

Deep down Steve was really concerned about you, but he internalized it as to not freak you out. You seemed weak and unsteady on your own two feet, and your cries were still sad enough to make him want to cry for you.

"Help me up?" You asked, holding out your hands.

He took them without question and helped you off the couch before guiding you to the bathroom and starting the shower for you. Making sure it was not too cold to be uncomfortable, but not too hot to hurt your burns even more, he finally settled on the perfect temperature.

When Steve turned back around to let you know it was good to go, he was going to walk right out and let you shower in peace. That was until you started crying even harder just by trying to unbutton your pants. Every move you made was increasingly uncomfortable, and in that moment you both knew that showering alone wasn't an option.

The hot shocking pain and trauma of the three week long mission alone made letting Steve see you naked feel like just another drop in the bucket. You couldn't even get yourself to pretend to care, all of the insecurities and fears you'd typically have over this flew out of the window when you could see the genuine worry in his sweet blue eyes.

"Do you need help?"

"Can you please stay?"

Both of you asked almost shyly at the same time.

"Yes please."

"Of course"

You talked over each other once again.

Everything you could've possibly been worried about wasn't even a thought in Steve's mind when you asked him to stay. Although his heart warmed over the sentiment that you felt comfortable enough around him to ask in the first place, he wanted to make sure he maintained that same level of trust.

So he took the same approach he took before any training session he knew you were scared of, or any time he had to touch your body.

A simple one word question that he always expected a completely honest response to, it always went a long way.

So before he even helped you begin undressing, he asked it.

"Trust?" He questioned.

Whenever he asked you this, he wanted a percentage out of 100 to gauge how much trust you felt for him in that very moment. Whether he was about to catch you from two stories high, or send you off to do something new, he wanted to make sure you were confident enough in him as your partner. If you ever answered below a 90, that's when he would put a stop to everything and the two of your would talk it through until you felt comfortable and confident enough to execute the plan.

"100" you answered without question, your shaky hands trying their hardest to unzip your shirt.

Only after you responded did he start to undress you. His hands took over the zipper, and swiped it downward. When he helped you tug off the sleeves he was careful to not touch the inside of your suit to not get any of the substance on himself, but once your top was off, he could tell it was all caked onto your skin and no longer dry. "If that changes or you want me to leave at any point, you tell me, okay?"

"Okay." You nodded, feeling a slight relief as the cold air hit your back.

Piece by piece, he helped you get undressed and into the shower. He stood next to you the whole time, and as the water washed off the dirt and grime, he could see the extent of the damage on your back and he internally cringed.

"You poor thing, this looks so painful." Steve pouted. Though you were quite literally fully naked in front of him, he couldn't stop staring at the plane of your back. It was fire engine red, and your skin was definitely angry at the substance.

"Fury is going to be so mad at me." You sniffled, starting to feel like you could talk in complete sentences again.

"Why?" Steve asked, head tilting slightly.

"I should be at the mission debriefing." You explained.

"You we're injured, there are exceptions." Steve denied. "You know who Fury will actually be mad at? Harvey."

Just the mention of his name had your cry growing sadder by the moment. "Can I tell you something as a friend and not as a boss?"

Steve's face softened, and he nodded.

"He did it on purpose." You claimed with confidence as your fingers scrubbed shampoo into your hair. "The whole mission Harv and his friends were doing things to sabotage me and I kept getting hurt. I felt like I was going crazy, and it was already a really bad mission to be on in the first place. I feel so defeated and defenseless right now."

When you admitted that, his eyes went from your back to a big, black and blue bruise the side of his palm right on your rib cage.

"Harvey will be dealt with whether he did it on purpose or accident. He made a really stupid choice that obstructed the mission and got another agent hurt, the best agent we got." Steve explained. "They'll probably open an investigation and pull any footage they have and talk to some other witnesses to get their side of the story. If it's ruled that it was on purpose his punishment will be much worse than if it was an accident."

"They're just going to come after me even harder." You cried. "I don't know what I did so wrong that they decided that they needed to make my life a living hell. I try to be nice to everyone, I participate when I need to, I help them when they need help, and I even do the dirty work so nobody else has to. Everyone still hates me. Nobody cares if I get hurt."

Steve's broken heart impossibly shattered again. "Do you believe us when we tell you it's jealousy? The men here have tiny little ego's. They're fragile and insecure so when they see how great you are, they just want to knock you down any chance they get. It's not your fault."

"I don't feel like I'm the best one here." You finally denied in a moment of vulnerable weakness. You we're already naked, what damage could admitting your true feelings possibly do? "I don't even feel like I'm good at what I do in general."

"You may feel like that right now, but that's not fact. It's far from the truth." Steve denied your accusations against yourself. "You're meant to be an Avenger, we're all confident in that. That mission should've never been delegated to you guys. It should've gone to the Avengers, and even then it would've been hard for us. But I was watching the updates and statistics come through while you were gone. You single handedly held the operation together and led it to success with nothing but your own guidance. You're incredible, you even outperformed the Avengers."

You shook your head in denial before tipping it back and letting the water wash away the soapy lather in your beautiful silky hair. "I should be debriefing but instead I'm crying in the shower I can't even take by myself without being a hazard."

"They have tormented you so much that you believe crying is a sign of weakness." Undertones of disapproval soaked through his tone. "Their words have you believing that you're not good enough for this, yet I don't see any of them being good enough to do half of what you do."

"I don't know how to get it to stop." You sniffled. "If I don't fight back, they keep going. If I do fight back, they come at me twice as hard. If you don't say anything, they think it's okay. If you do yell at them, it just gets worse."

"Join the team." Steve stated simply, reaching out into the shower to swipe some smoke off your face that you missed.

"I'm tired, Stevie." You admitted with a sad cry. "Right now, I don't even know how I'm going to wake up and get myself to work as an agent tomorrow. I don't know how I can do this anymore, let alone be an Avenger."

"Exactly, you're tired and you're hurting." Steve validated. "Emotionally and physically, you're a human with with needs, none of which have been met in a very long time. You had your heart broken, and with no time to recover you had tosee Harvey every day for three weeks, then he hurt you even more. We'll get you some rest, some food, you'll get some time off work to make sure you heal up and recover. I promise you that you'll feel better."

"I sure hope so." You sniffled, washing the rest of the soap off now that you were squeaky clean. "Because right now, my heart is heavy and i feel defeated."

"Then let's take baby steps towards making you feel better, we'll start by making the heaviness a lot lighter." Steve offered you a hand to help you step out of the shower as you turned the water off. A hint of a smile poked through your pouted lips as he wrapped your fluffy towel around your body as carefully as he could as to not hurt your back anymore than it already did.

"Do you have to go back to work?" You asked sadly, not wanting to have to let go of the comfort he always provided you. "I really missed you while I was away."

"It's okay, I'll take the rest of the day off." Steve denied. "I missed you too, I was worried about you."

There was a small knock on the door before Bucky came in, and before either of you could even acknowledge his presence, both of your feet carried you towards him.

Bucky quickly handed Steve the clothes he brought for him, then all his attention was on you.

"Stay with her for a minute, I'm going to change really fast." Steve squeezed Bucky's shoulder out of gratitude.

You we're still slowly crying from the pain, and wrapped up in the towel like a little human burrito.

No words needed to be exchanged between you and your friend and he very carefully pulled you against his warm body for a long hug.

After Steve changed into the clothes Bucky brought him and walked back out into the living room to the scene of you being comfortably wrapped up in his arms as the two of you exchanged quiet words he could barely hear, he couldn't help the tiny pang of jealousy. He felt like a teenage boy who had no control over his emotions. He knew it was wrong, so he pushed it down just like he did all his other feelings towards you.

When Bucky noticed Steve was back, he mumbled an apology to you about needing to get back to work, and promised he would come by later to check up on you. And just as fast as he arrived, he left.

Steve helped you get dressed again, which was a struggle. But the two of you worked together to find a loose enough shirt to put on as to not hurt your back, super soft shorts, and definitely no bra to dig into your skin. But he already saw your boobs so there was no harm in that decision.

By the time you climbed into your own bed for the first time in weeks, and Steve got in next to you, a bit of relief washed over you. The tears came to an end and now you were nothing but stray sniffles and a little ball of frustration as you tried your hardest to get comfortable without laying on your back.

Steve wasn't quite sure how it happened, but you ended up half on your side-half on your stomach with your head in his lap and one of your legs hiked up. Once you were comfortable, he pulled up the back of your shirt to let the cool air hit the burn and to make sure the fabric wasn't irritating the area even more.

He could tell you were still in pain, so he comforted you by running his fingers through your hair. You soaked up every moment of the pleasant sensation, it gave you something to focus on other than the pain.

Single-handedly, he grabbed his phone and pulled up your profile on the music streaming app you downloaded onto his phone so you could create playlists together and share music. He picked a playlist you curated of all your favorite soothing songs and played it quietly for you.

Steve knew music was important to you, most of the time you had at least one airpod in your ear and you were always showing him new music. He loved listening to the songs you found good enough to share with him, and he loved sharing the experience of listening to music with you all because he knew it made you happy.

"Do you have a comfort movie or show?" Steve asked. "Or anything you do to help you fall asleep?"

"Yeah, I get into your bed." You mumbled out a joke, feeling completely drained. Your eyes didn't need to be open to know he was smiling.

"The faster we can get you to fall asleep, the better." He noted.

"Are you tired of me already?" You questioned, another joke.

"Absolutely not." Steve denied with a giggle. "If you fall asleep, you can get through a big chunk of the pain with no awareness to it."

"I was just on a mission for three weeks barely getting any sleep. Just give me a minute, I'll sleep like the dead."

"Why weren't you getting any sleep?" Steve questioned, continuing to rub your scalp.

"They kept assigning me to sleep next to Harvey no matter how many times I asked them to not do that." You explained. "Completely separate cots and sleeping bags and he still tried to get me to have sex with him every single night we were there. Every time I denied him he'd try to spark an argument then I'd get upset and just lay awake because I couldn't turn my brain off."

"He was trying to sleep with you after a whole day on the battlefield? After he said he could never be with someone like you?" Steve questioned. "Did he not break up with you? Is he not exhausted by the end of the day?"

"You'd think there would be significant logistical issues he would consider before trying to initiate but he didn't let anything get in his way." You agreed with Steve. "I have no plans of ever having sex with him again, and he thinks it's a game. Like I'll crumble and whither away without his dick."

"That sounds like a terrible situation you have to put up with everyday." Steve noted. "If I had to look at any of my ex girlfriends every day at work, let alone be on a mission with them for three weeks I don't think both of us would make it out alive, and they would be the ones surviving every time."

You sleepily giggled at his words. "It is pretty terrible, but I'm hoping he will realize soon that there's better dick to be had elsewhere. I'm horny, but never horny enough to have sex with him ever again."

"Wow, you're so strong." Steve laughed. "That was really philosophical."

"I know right?" Your lazy smile stretched.

"If he's making you lose sleep, that's just more proof he's obstructing agents from reaching the objective." Steve noted.

You hummed in agreement, letting the heaviness in your heart and mind settle and the exhaustion in your body take over.

A few moments of silence passed before Steve broke it, his thoughts becoming too loud to keep to himself. "...I really can't imagine getting it up after a whole 12 hour day of fighting... don't think I could ever do that..."

Your smile reappeared. "That's because you actually do your job and you do it well. Harvey just kind've stands there and pretends to be helping. No person in their right mind would be able to get it up after a real day of battle."

"Wow, so you're finally in the phase of admitting that he's bad at what he does." Steve noted.

"Yeah, well, I'm infuriated that we work ourselves to the point of exhaustion and he's just walking around with the audacity to have a hard dick all the time." You noted. "He deserves a life of erectile disfunction, I deserve the audacity of a post mission stiffy."

"See, this is the kind of fire I've been trying to ignite in you this whole time!" Steve enthused. "Who knew that all it would take was a metaphorical boner?"

"Relax, I'm not hard enough yet to hop over the the Avengers." Your voice was getting raspier and quieter by the second, making Steve melt into a puddle. "Give me a little more time, maybe I'll get there eventually."

"Have you tried viagra?" Steve joked.

"Have you?"

"Is your back feeling any better?"

"Why are you deflecting?" You sleepily smiled.

"Sweet dreams, Bug." He covered your eyes with the palm of his hand. "Hope you feel so much better when you wake up."

You grabbed his wrist and directed his hand to the top of your head before letting it go, and snuggling up in the blankets the very best you could. "Thanks for coming to my rescue, Stevie. I love and appreciate you lots."

"Anytime, I love you more."

You dozed off not to long after, and fell into a sleep so deep that you felt like you had woken up in a whole different world. Your phone was ringing, and there was no longer any light seeping through your bedroom window curtains.

Judging by your door being cracked open with lights pouring through and footsteps walking around, you could tell Steve was still in your apartment. Reaching around blindly for your phone, your hand found it and answered the call.

A smile stretched across Steve's face when he heard your sweet, sleepy voice coming from your room. He could tell you were talking to family, so he waited a while until he could hear the conversation wrapping up to come check on you.

It took about fifteen minutes, but he finally came in and turned the light on as he heard some goodbyes.

"I love you so much, Buddy! I'll come see you this week okay? Maybe in a day or two." Your smile was uncontrollable. "No, I cannot bring iron man with me. Am I not cool enough for you anymore?"

Steve raised an eyebrow at you when you looked up at him with a giggle. You motioned for him to stay quiet, then put it on speaker phone.

A tiny little voice came through, and Steve immediately remembered all of the times you told him about your five year old nephew that lived with your sister not too far from the compound.

“What about Captain America?" He questioned.

"I don't know Captain America!" You denied, looking Steve dead in the eye. You laughed as Steve's jaw dropped in response to your antics.

"Yes you do! Mommy showed me a picture of you and Captain America!" He giggled.

"No, that's not Captain America, that's my friend Steve." You joked.

"That's Captain America's name!" Your nephew defended himself.

"No way, really? That must be a coincidence."

"What is your friend Steve's last name?" He questioned.

"I'm not really sure, I'll have to ask him next time I see him." Steve shook his head at you with a mischievous smile while sitting on the edge of your bed. "What is Captain America's last name?"

"Rogers! How do you not know that!?" The boy laughed over the phone. "Don't you work with these people?!"

"I dunno, maybe you should be an Avenger. You know a lot more about this stuff than I do."

"Okay I'm ending this conversation before my son tries to break into the compound and steal Captain Roger's shield." Your sister took the phone away from the five year old.

"Did you hear that Steve? If your shield goes missing, we have a suspect." You told him.

"Oh god... is Captain Rogers in the room with you right now?" Your sister questioned with a sigh.

"No, she's talking to herself. She's kind've crazy." Steve denied earning a laugh from the other side of the phone.

"Tell me about it! I've had to deal with her all my life!" She laughed. "I'll let you go now, Smalls. I'm glad you're okay, let me know if you need anything. Also feel free to come over whenever you want. You know Luca loves you more than anyone in the world, we would take good care of you if you need it."

"Thank you! And thanks for checking up on me, sorry you got that alert, that must've been scary."

"It's okay, I'm just glad you're alright. Stay safe, I'll see you soon."

"See you soon" you agreed before hanging up.

"You're gaslighting a child?" Steve questioned.

"He knows it's a joke." You denied with a tired giggle. "Luca is obsessed with the Avengers but especially you. If I ever actually admitted to him that were close friends he would lose his mind and never leave us alone."

"But he's so cute! You should bring him to the compound and give him a tour!" He enthused.

"I think he would actually combust." You sat up. "Maybe one day, but my Sister doesn't think he's ready for that yet."

"What's her name?"

"Jane, she's four years older than me." You explained. "She called me in a panic because she's my emergency contact. I think Commander Bennett added an injury report to my file so it sent her an automated phone call that I got hurt in battle. It scared the daylight out of her."

"I don't blame her." Steve shook his head. "Thats one of the worst phone calls to ever receive."

"It really is" you agreed. "What time is it?"

"7:30 pm." He grinned. "How are you feeling?"

"A lot better. It just feels like a really bad sunburn now." You explained. "I still feel pretty beat up from the mission though."

Steve nodded his head in understanding. "I got an email from Bennett, you were cleared from the roster for the rest of the week. So you'll start work again on Monday. Oh, also, someone from the hazard team came and picked up your suit to clean it. They reported back to be about an hour ago that it wasn't salvageable so weaponry is making you a new one. Should be done by the time you get back to work on Monday."

"Thank you, Stevie, you're the best." You smiled.

"Ugh, I know right?" He joked, back flopping right next to you.

"I take it back." You laughed, gently flicking his head.

"Fine. Next time, call Bucky." Steve joked.

Your laugh got louder and you shook your head. "Bucky would've left me on the Jet floor to beat the shit out of Harvey."

"Exactly my point." Steve settled with amusement.

"Speaking of Bucky, do we know where he is right now?"

"Probably beating the shit out of Harvey"

"You boys are exhausting." You sign smiled.

"But you love it." Steve pointed out, poking your cheek.

"I do." You admitted.

Comfortable silence fell over the two of you, nothing significant was running through your mind, but you could tell Steve's mind was running around one thought and one thought only.

"... You're hungry aren't you?" You questioned rhetorically, already knowing the answer.

"How could you tell?" He turned his head to look at you with a big beaming smile on his face.

"I know you like the back of my hand, Rogers."

He hummed in agreement. "You're hungry too."

"How could you tell?"

"Because your stomach was growling in your slee- I mean... because I know you so well!"

"Food?"

"Food." He agreed.

"Alright, let's go big guy." You pat his shoulder twice. "You saw me naked today so now I get to wine and dine you."

"Bug!" He barked out a laugh, and his cheeks immediately turned a pretty shake of pink. "Don't you even start with me!"

“Oh, and by the way, if you tell anyone you’ve ever seen me naked, I’ll beat you to a pulp faster than any other agent in the compound gets the chance to call me a whore.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Next part: Expendable

Tag list: @saranghaey @firephotogrl74 @selella @talesofadragon @ss28 @nekoannie-chan @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @spikeluv84 @crazyunsexycool @callmissrogers @xxxalicerogersxx @whore-for-chris-evans @em8rin @mulbsstuff @qalijahbydior @awkotaco24 @buckybarnessimpp @nicoline1998enilocin @buckystevelove @rogersbarber @mybuck @ynstark @dbnightingale24

[novaksupremacy]

The Backseat of My Car- Casey Novak x Alex Cabot

soooo, a little Friday morning smutty treat for my loves. ❤️ I was told part 2 of This is My Office was needed and since it'll be a while before I even get to this chapter, here's a present 😜 consider it a peace offering that it may take me a few days for Chapter 7 😅 (also if someone could teach my goofy ass how to format so that things indent properly, I'll love you forever!)

"Don't beat yourself up, that was a tough case." Casey consoled her girlfriend as they walked through the parking garage, "you know there's always the possibility that a juror will be sympathetic towards one of these crackpots."

Alex was seething mad, "Langan's just lucky I don't feel like spending the rest of my life in jail or I'd have him strung up by his testicles!"

The redhead's lip curled in disgust. She stopped walking and grabbed Alex's hand. "Babe I would really rather not think about you anywhere near that man's testicles, or any man's testicles for that matter.

"Sorry," the blonde frowned, "he just makes me so mad I could spit. I can't believe I ever went on a date with that man." She went to start walking again.

The younger ADA stopped again and pulled Alex back towards her, "Okay, what? I don't know what's worse, you, talking about his nuts or the fact that you went out with him.

Alex chuckled, "It was one date, we never made it passed the bar. I really just needed info on a case."

Casey smirked, "Ah yeah because that makes it better." She giggled and pulled her closer, "Just remember who you belong to, Alexandra Cabot."

"How could I ever forget," the Bureau Chief leaned in and kissed her girlfriend.

The redhead rested her free hand against the blonde's thigh. Her eyes lit up when she realized she was still strapped from earlier. "Babe? Your windows are tinted right?"

"Darker than they should be actually, I have to put the DA placard in the window just to avoid getting ticketed. Why?" Casey shot her a look that could only be construed as mischievous.

 "Oh. OH. Backseat." Alex said excitedly.

Both women slid into the backseat of the BMW and Casey closed the door behind them. She wasted no time tossing the blue eyed beauty's glasses into the front seat and grabbing her around the neck, pulling her in to a messy, heated kiss.

Alex chuckled as she started unbuttoning her shirt.

"What's so funny?" the redhead mused, laughing if only because Alex was.

"I feel like a teenager." This was the most relaxed the Bureau Chief had been in as long as she could remember, being with Casey felt-- effortless. "In a good way that is" she said reassuringly.

"Oh yeah? Is this what Alexandra Cabot was like in high school? Riding in cars with boys?" Her girlfriend said teasingly. "I don't know about this then, I like mature, collected, no nonsense ADA Alex Cabot Bureau Chief extraordinaire."

The blonde grabbed Casey by her collar. "The only person who's going to be riding anything is you riding me in a minute and don't worry dear, I know what it is you like." She whispered as she kissed the redhead with force, she was starving for something only Casey could satiate.

"Fuck," Casey sighed. "Alex do you have to be so damn sexy constantly."

"Do you want me to stop?" She smirked as she ruined the second one of Casey's shirts today, buttons scattering to the cars floor mats.

The younger ADAs breath hitched, “No. Don’t. Stop.” She whispered playfully pausing between words as she pulled open Alex's belt and fly. She bit her lip hard, "mmm I want to try something okay? But don't think I'm weird."

Alex's blue eyes look into her hazel green ones with curiosity. "Baby if I ever thought you were weird, ever, in the time I've known you, I meant it as the highest compliment." She leaned back against the car door.

Casey put her hand against the blondes open fly and exposed the strap she was still wearing from their earlier encounter. The ginger sat up for a minute and pulled her hair back and tied it there with a ponytail holder she had around her wrist. She leaned back down and brought the strap into her mouth and began to suck.

 The golden haired adonis' eyes grew wide. "Baby that's not weird, that's hot." She whimpered as she brought her hand to the back of her lover's head pushed down lightly while she ran her other hand through her own hair. The ADA never breaking eye contact as she went to town on the toy, running her tongue up to the tip, and then taking the whole thing into her mouth.

After a minute or two she sat back up, licking her lips, and grabbed Alex by the hips pulling her flat on the backseat. "So,” the redhead blushed, “you liked that?"

"Very much so," the blonde said panting.

"Mmm, good to know." Her devilish grin plastered across her face. With a little maneuvering and a few giggles, she was able to shimmy her way out of her suit pants and on top of her girlfriend. She steadied her balance and brought herself down on top of the strap letting out a small moan, her body shuddered as she leaned down to kiss Alex. The angle making the toy hit her just right as the blonde slowly pushed her hips up, both women groaning softly.

"Fuck that feels good." Casey mewled beginning to roll her hips against Alex.

"I bet it does," the blonde cooed thrusting her hips up slow and deliberate. Copying her lover's expression as her lips parted and she let out a soft gasp of pleasure.

The redhead pushed back against the toy holding one hand to Alex's chest and the other to the window behind her head. "Alex," she whimpered, her body craving more, "I can't take much more teasing."

“Is that so? You sure you don’t want it nice and slow,” She thrust her hips slowly, holding Casey by her waist and guiding her up and down against her body, fucking her at a torturously slow pace, continuing to mimic her facial expressions has her mouth fell open and tiny gasps and moans emanated from her throat.

“Alex,” the redhead whispered, “Fuck, Alex.”

“Well obviously if you can remember my name, I haven’t tortured you nearly enough.” The blonde smirked. Casey brought her hand to her own clit, but Alex stopped her, “Ah, no cheating baby.”

The redhead whined. She started pushing herself down harder against her girlfriend, “Alex I want you to ruin me.” She moaned as she ground her hips down.

The blue eyed beauty’s pupils dilated as she took tight hold of Casey’s hips and began thrusting. She picked up her pace a little at a time until she was slamming into Casey, who was rolling her hips, leaning over Alex whimpering in her ear.

“Mmm baby, like that,” she nibbled on the blonde’s ear, causing her to sigh, “Oh Alex, Alex. Mmm, I love the way you fill me up.” She whispered with a smirk, knowing if her hot breath kept hitting her face as she did, that Alex would cum for her before she even finished.

The Bureau Chief slammed into Casey holding her hips down tight to hers and rolling them towards her. Casey cried out as Alex did this a few more times, smacking the redheads ass each time and then grabbing a fistful of supple skin and holding on.

The redhead was getting louder, “Ahh, Alex, fuck me! Just like that, don’t stop. Don’t stop baby.”

Alex spurred on by Casey’s cries also started moaning loudly. “That’s it baby, scream for me.” The blonde loved when Casey got loud and all the little noises she could get her to make as she fucked all the right spots. Alex felt her insides flutter as Casey hit a note that she was fairly sure only dogs could hear as her juices came spilling out around the toy and onto Alex again. As they both climaxed the redhead collapsed against her girlfriend leaning up just enough to stare into her crystal blue eyes. The blonde went to sit up.

“Not yet,” the ADA whimpered, “stay inside a bit longer?” Alex obliged and began stroking her girlfriends back.

“You okay darling?” she asked, checking in.

Casey nodded, “More than okay. Just trying to come back down.” Her body shook as she had another small aftershock.

“I’ve got you baby, I’ve got you.” Alex whispered bring her into a yielding, tender kiss.

They hadn’t been kissing exceedingly long when there was a knock on the window. The women looked at each other, frozen in fear, “Cops?” Casey mouthed.

“No, this lot is run by CCTV” Alex whispered, “who would’ve called it in?”

There was another knock, this time slower, more annoyed.

Casey went to press the window down much to Alex’s protest, only to find Liz looking back at her.

The Judges face was more stern than either of them had ever seen on her worst day. Alex jerked her head around, still inside Casey, both of them half naked, Casey’s shirt completely undone.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Liz said through gritted teeth. “What the fuck is wrong with the two of you?” She put her hand up in protest, “Don’t answer that. And Casey don’t get up lest I see more of you than I want to.”

Alex tried to protest and say something, but Donnelly stopped her before she could even get a single syllable out. “Alexandra, I don’t want to hear it. What is this? Some sort of midlife crisis? Can you not fuck at home? What are you afraid the cat is watching?”

“Judge Donnelly, we’re” Casey tried to apologize.

“Not another word Novak, you’re lucky this lot is not owned by the city. For God’s sake you both work SVU, you know how bad an indecent exposure charge can get! Have you both stopped taking your medication?”

“Liz why does it sound like you’re scolding teenagers?”

“Lena, I” but before Liz could say anymore Judge Petrovsky had already approached the car window, Alex and Casey staring at her from a very compromising position.

“It would seem it’s because apparently you are. Ah, Ms. Novak it appears that your reoccurring nightmare has finally come true. Charming. Ms. Cabot, make sure you put some concealer on all of that before you get to my courtroom in the morning. I’m late for poker. Goodnight Elizabeth.” She put a hand on Donnelly’s arm and walked off towards the street.

Liz looked at the two ADAs in disbelief, “I am washing my hands of the both of you. Please fuck each other’s brains out, before you get to work tomorrow? For everyone in the building’s sake?” With the click of her heel, she walked off towards her car hidden away in the far corner of the parking lot.

Casey side, “And she wonders why those kids said she had a broom up her butt.” She rolled up the car window, and gently removed Alex from inside her, trying to maneuver enough to get her pants back on.

Alex furrowed her brow, “Wait, what?”

“Elliot tells it better.”

“Elliot?” the blonde didn’t think she could be more confused, but here she was, for the second time today, covered in Casey, just having been yelled at by Judge Donnelly, how did they get to Elliot?

They both climbed into the front seat and Alex put her glasses back on and the key in the ignition.

“Did that,” Alex started, “Did that really just happen?” she chuckled even though her hands were shaking.

“I guess we need to be more discreet at work,” Casey grimaced.

“I don’t take it back, I would take a thousand censures to here you say my name like that.” Alex said, lust dripping from her words, “I just need to stop leaving the office door unlocked or answering window knocks unless they identify themselves as the police.”

Casey raised a finger.

“Police who are not Elliot.”

Casey raised her finger again.

“Or Olivia.”

“There it is.” The redhead nodded.

[swanimagines]

BARELY DRIED | KAZ BREKKER [PART 2]

Part 1

A few days later, Kaz had gone missing again. After the Van Benschoten job, which had gone exceptionally well, he had retreated even more into his shell. Barely paying any attention to you during the afterparty of finding a buyer for the treasure you had stolen, gotten tens of thousands of kruge, and still Kaz acted like it didn’t really matter that much. As if that had been just another one of those smaller jobs which he could do by himself and maybe someone keeping watch at most. Definitely not something this big. But now, he had been gone for two days already. Gone before sunrise, no one had heard him, no one had seen him leave.

And now, you sat at the bar counter with a shot of whiskey, wringing your hands. Your heart was pounding, your fears increasing by the second.

“What if something has happened?” you muttered as soon as Jesper slid to sit next to you. “What if… what if he, what if he’s been so distraught that he has gotten caught? Or… killed?”

Jesper snorted, shaking his head. “Kaz? Caught? Killed? Come on, you know he’s tougher to kill than a cockroach infestation is.”

“But what if—”

Jesper shot you a look. “No, he’s just… he needs time to cool off. Seeing you could shake him up even worse now.”

You nodded slowly, staring at the bar counter. You knew Kaz wouldn’t be happy when he’d learn that you had spilled the whole story about that letter you found and Kaz being upset about you having read it to Jesper and Inej, but he had been away for so long, you were so worried. You needed to have someone to talk to, and they had succeeded in comforting you somewhat.

But it didn’t mean it made you any less worried. No matter how much they tried to console you and make you believe Kaz was coming back soon, you couldn’t help but go over and over all the possible horror scenarios.

Kaz being thrown into Reaper’s Barge, his body having floated away, reunited with his brother.

Kaz being imprisoned, tortured, terrified for the first time in years.

Kaz being trapped somewhere, slowly starving to death.

Kaz having left Ketterdam completely, being too overwhelmed about the fact that you had seen a vulnerable side of him, convinced he had ridiculed himself to you and that you don’t feel the same.

Your last fear wasn’t as harrowing as the rest of them, sure, but still… a gnawing fear that you wouldn’t see him ever again loomed over you like a dark cloud. You were unable to think anything else or do much to keep your mind off it.

And after two days more, you just couldn’t take it anymore.

“I need to go find him,” you announced to your friends as you came down the stairs of the Slat with your coat and boots on. “I can’t take this anymore.”

Jesper sighed. “You do know that if he doesn’t want to be found, you won’t be able to find him. He surely knows you’re going to look for him sooner or later, he knows to expect it.”

You paused, before adjusting your scarf. “That’s what I’m counting on really. He may expect me. Saints, he could even wait for me to find him.”

Jesper scoffed. “Are we talking about the same Kaz Brekker here?”

You shrugged, looking at the roof for a moment. “It might be wishful thinking, I know. But I just feel like he may not come home until I go there and tell him it’s okay, that he hasn’t ruined anything.” You paused. “And maybe I could tell him that we can forget about that letter completely if he wants that.”

Jesper raised an eyebrow, but then looked back at his glass of whiskey. “Well, I guess it’s your time you’re wasting.”

First, you headed to Black Veil, weaving through the gravestones until you reached the crypt. You knocked on the door — no answer, of course, and complete silence otherwise too. Nobody was moving inside. You peered inside the windows, but the crypt was empty unless Kaz was sitting on the floor in some dark corner where you wouldn’t see him, and that didn’t sound like Kaz. Cowering to hide from you, no, that wasn’t Kaz.

Next, you headed into the harbor. You checked every warehouse, every lookout, every little nook you could imagine Kaz being in, but found nothing. You groaned as you reached the end of yet another back alley, yet another dead end — and it certainly didn’t ease your fears of what had happened.

What if he wasn’t hiding?

What if he wasn’t hiding in Ketterdam?

Could he have left for Lij to relax a little?

What if he had left Kerch?

“Kaz,” you muttered under your breath, “where the hell are you?”

Then, it hit you.

The canals. Could he have gone there?

He did tell you once — or not tell you, it was more like a vague mention you had later figured out — that when he had to think, he went underground to think, to watch the canals, reflect on his old life. It was rare, and became rarer as he grew up, but sometimes he found some strange sense of solace from “speaking” with his brother. Maybe he was underground now too, asking advice from his brother.

It took a while to find the way, the old stairs that led to underground canals. But you still ended up finding them when you saw one of the canals splitting and disappearing below the bridge.

You walked through the maze of canals slowly, trying to ignore the rats that ran across your feet every once in a while. Could Kaz have really spent time here for four days?

But just as you started to doubt it and wondered if you should just turn back, you saw him. Sitting on an alcove, head tilted back, eyes closed. His hat on his lap.

“Kaz?” you mumbled, and he flinched. He clearly didn’t expect you to find him, nor he had heard you coming. He turned to look at you slowly, his dark eyes looking over you before he let out a breath through his nose.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, sounding like he hadn’t spoken in days.

You took a careful step closer. “You’ve been gone for days, everyone’s worried. I couldn’t sit still, I started to—”

“I needed to think,” he interrupted you.

You opened your mouth, then closed it, then opened it again. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have read the letter, it wasn’t my business. And please believe me when I say I will never again look at any of your things unless you’re asking me to.”

He was quiet for a moment, before he ran his hand through his hair. “It wasn’t about the letter.”

You frowned. “Then why?”

“Because I wasn’t able to face you. To talk about anything. I needed time, but I couldn’t have had it at the Slat because I would have seen you every time I stepped out of my room.”

You cocked your head slightly. “Kaz, I don’t understand.”

He clenched his jaw and grabbed his cane, holding it in front of him. He squeezed the crow head again, which you had noticed was his method to keep himself grounded.

Then, he spoke again. “I wouldn’t be enough for you.”

You blinked. “What?”

He shook his head. “I’m broken, rotten, beyond repair. Not to mention, you’d be a sitting duck if… I can’t do that to you.”

So the letter was for you.

You sighed, taking a few more slow steps, sitting beside him. “Kaz, I’ve seen the worst of you. I’ve seen you doing things to people that make me want to throw up. I’ve heard the cries of mercy from people you have interrogated. I’m pretty sure I know you, and I know that if we were… together… I’d indeed be a target. But I know how to look after myself. And I doubt you want us to announce it in magazines, we could at least attempt to keep it a secret.”

He didn’t look you in the eye, but he did look in your direction. So you pressed further. “If you want, we could try. Take it slow. See how it goes, how it feels. We don’t have to rush into anything.”

Kaz was quiet for a long moment. Or at least that moment felt so incredibly long, your heart pounded in your head, you were sure he’d turn your offer down.

But then, he grunted and slowly stood up. “We need to get back to the Slat. My next plan should be put into motion within a few days.”

You knew that was his way of agreeing, and you couldn’t help but beam a little. “I will be ready.”

He hummed, and started making his way up the first flight of stairs, you following him.

Your little search trip ended far better than you imagined after all.

Requests are open! FANDOM LIST | PROMPT LIST(S) | RULES (READ!!!)

[condensed-ink]

I've been thinking a lot about #FixTF2 and I know that some might have their doubts about the movement, however, I've realized that, even if it does not succeed in getting Valve's attention, it will end up contributing towards an important development in recent years - the shift in the public perception of Valve.

If you are person who was growing up in the early 2010's then you obviously remember how Valve games were essentially the cultural zeitgeist of the time, how you would see pictures of King Gaben on every meme/YouTube thumbnail during a Steam Summer Sale. As I understand it, Valve essentially rode this wave of good will throughout the 2010's. Even when everyone was getting frustrated with the lack of sequels for games such as HL2 and L4D2, some people would just excuse it with "ah y'know Valve, not communicating and not doing anything is just their style, this is just probably part of Gaben's 5D chess - tier master plan". However, the cracks in this image have been slowly showing up for a long time:

Portal fans haven't had anything since Portal 2's release back in 2011. We have had some small VR titles but that's hardly any consolation.

Left for Dead 2 came out all the way back in 2009 with nothing afterwards. As of June of 2024, the game still has more than 10 thousand concurrent players yet it is also unplayable for a significant amount of people due to reported DDos attacks.

The suffering of Half - life fans at this point is a meme in itself. The only thing we got was HL:Alyx back in 2020 and, even though it's a very good game, it was inaccessible to a lot of people at launch due the costs and lack of VR hardware. We were left on a cliff-hanger AGAIN and four years later we have no news of any follow-up.

In my opinion, Valve to some extent could ignore these fandoms since they were smaller compared to their big earners. But it is the recent issues with these bigger titles that have started to test everyone's patience and tolerance for Valve's bullshit:

Team Fortress 2 - I mean what else is there to say: rampant cheating and idle bots, bot hosters doxxing and swatting people. The bots crisis has been destroying the game for the past 5 years. If we remember the original SaveTF2 movement, it had a more positive tone, i. e., people talking about how much they love the game and pleading Valve to fix it. Well, one shitty tweet and two years later the tone has gone from "Please fix the game" to "FIX THE FUCKING GAME YOU ASSHOLES" and rightfully so.

CS2 also has a myriad of issues. CS:GO became CS2 after the game jumped to the Source 2 engine, but the resulting game, by many accounts, is a downgrade. A lot of game modes and maps from the original game were not included and are still not present as of June of 2024. Cheaters are rampant. To what degree I cannot say but it is to an extent where a significant enough portion of the player base is affected. Also, the game hasn't had an operation (major content update) since 2021. The player count is still high, but a lot voices in the community have been chewing out Valve for this level of incompetence.

With DOTA 2 I cannot say for sure. Some people talk about neglect whilst others say the game is in a decent state considering the game still gets frequent updates and patches. At most I can say that there is a portion of players that are dissatisfied with the state of the game but most likely to a much lesser extent than in the previous cases.

HOWEVER

All of that is just one part of the double whammy, the second part is probably is much worse than the first - a lack of continuity for Valve's legacy.

I mean, let's think about it for a second here: most of us who grew with the Valve classics are probably in our mid-to late twenties at this point. Of course, I'm not saying that there aren't any younger fans but the bulk is the old guard. I'm pretty sure a lot of kids and teenagers don't even know a lot about these games and it's not their fault, they weren't old enough to experience them. The blame lies SOLELY with Valve because they have done NOTHING to boost the visibility of their older series due to the fact that they haven't bothered to make a single proper sequel for any of them.

And speaking of visibility, Valve's advertising strategy is non - existent and downright insulting . They really have this holier-than-thou perception of themselves, where they think "I am THE Valve softworks, makers of TF2 and Half-Life! How could you NOT know of us?!?!" and then expect everyone else to spread news of their games through word-of-mouth. Like, I'm sorry, Gabe, but we don't owe you shit. I'm not gonna advertise your shitty card-game and upcoming mediocre 5v5 hero shooter just because I had fun playing TF2 back in high school. Like, it's no surprise that you're not gaining any new fans when this has been your modus operandi for the past 10 years.

TO CONCLUDE

This is where we are right now: the old guard is either apathetic or straight-up hates Valve for their negligence, the younger generation barely knows about most of Valve's OG game series due to the lack of any meaningful output. At the end of the day, Valve isn't going to bankrupt, they're gonna keep taking their 30% cut from Steam and peddling gambling addictions to kids via cases. However, the era of good will is over, nobody is cutting them any slack anymore and, frankly, they deserve all the shit that's going to get thrown at them.

[kas-eddie-munson]

final part of my disabled steddie AU~

Note that this part has implied child abuse/neglect

i also posted the completed story on AO3

Part 1 ~ Part 2 ~ Part 3 ~ Part 4 ~ Part 5 ~~~

Christmas came and went.  New Years.

Max was released from the hospital.

Eddie was worried about her.  Her mom still lived nearby.  He never saw either of them around, at the store, in the neighborhood, hanging out with the other kids.

Until he overheard her mom on his porch one night with Wayne and another neighbor, having a conversation he wasn’t supposed to hear.

Eddie told Steve, who told Hopper.

Max stayed with the Byers family, after that.

Eddie visited her, sometimes.  She was pale, hair cut short, almost like El’s used to be.  She had a power chair, but it was harder for her to get in and out than it was for Eddie with his, so she stayed in bed most of the time.  She acted different, moreso than she did in the hospital.

She was silent.  Eyes sunken, vacant.

Jocye’s eyes were big, frantic, round the clock.  Her other kids were withdrawn.  He wondered if things didn’t work out, where else Max would go.  Did she have any other family?

Would that family be worse?

Eddie thought about about that conversation on the porch a lot.  It flashed through his head without permission.

What Wayne said.  Or more accurately, what he didn’t say.  What he didn’t do.  Wayne’s house had been a refuge for Eddie his whole life.  It was starting to feel more like a cell.

He supposed he was lucky to have a cell at all.

~~~

Eddie called Steve late one night.  Asked if they could drive somewhere together.  It took a while to get the words clear enough through the static of the phone, but Eddie was more patient than he used to be, these days.

Eddie gave instructions and Steve drove, landing them in a mostly empty parking lot on the outskirts of town.  It was a post office, he was pretty sure.  Closed.  It was quiet out here.

Steve helped Eddie into his chair, and Eddie lead the two of them to the edge of the road, bending over carefully and grabbing a handful of chunky gravel.

“Wayne taught me to drive here, years ago now.”

Eddie threw a small rock from his pile down against the pavement.  Steve picked some up and did the same.

He told Steve about Max, in more detail than before.  What her mom said about her.  How their neighbor consoled her through it, told her she was a good mother, that it was ‘complicated.’

It was okay to just let Max wither away, he supposed.  Because it was complicated.  Because it was harder, now.

As though Max wanted to be stuck like this.  Unable to take care of herself even though she knew how.  Even though she’d probably been taking care of herself longer than kids her age should.

How he was still worried.  How the Byers couldn’t seem to keep up with her care, either.  How unfair it was that she was stuck like this.  He threw one rock so hard against the ground that it shattered.

Steve told him he was worried too.

He took Eddie’s hand and squeezed it.

~~~

Steve made some phone calls, with Robin’s help.  Finally got ahold of Owens.

Max had a nurse visiting her most days, now.

~~~

Max opened up slowly.

January bled into February bled into March.

She told him more about what happened with her mom.

He told her it wasn’t her fault.

The Byers house was easier to navigate, now.  The result of more phone calls.  Sometimes, El told him, Max asked to play cards with her.

~~~

In April, Steve told Eddie how tired he was.  How his hearing aids didn’t help, much.  How it still sounded different, now.  How much effort it takes to hear.

Eddie held his hand this time.

~~~

On the Fourth of July, Steve took Eddie back to that parking lot.  He set up a picnic blanket and a lawnchair, and Eddie sat next to him while they ate watermelon.  Sometimes they’d spot fireworks in the distance.

Eddie kissed him, and he tasted like something he could trust.

~~~

Max asked Eddie, one day, in almost a whisper, “How do you live like this?”

It didn’t hurt the way it did when strangers asked, when they told him they wouldn’t bother to keep going in his place.  He knew it was different, with Max.  He knew when she said ‘you,’ she didn’t mean Eddie.

He thought about it.  Eddie didn’t want to lie to her.  Tell her that it was easy, or that it would all work out when he didn’t know that it would.  Eddie still couldn’t go out in public most places. Sometimes it took him a week to recover from a good day.  Sometimes he felt so separate from the rest of the world he ached with it.

He decided on, “sometimes, people help you.  Sometimes, they stay.”

[enkas-illusion]

Two Can Play a Game

Fandom / Pairing: Jujutsu Kaisen / Geto Suguru x f!reader

Rating: NSFW/Explicit - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Content Warning: suggestive, Gojo being a menace, roommate shenanigans, wingman!Gojo, violent games, friendly banter, geto’s huge fingers…

Chapter Summary: You are stuck with your awful roommates on their Saturday games night. You were ready to be bored to death this weekend but what you were not expecting was being stranded on Geto’s lap by the end of the night.

Author's Notes: gamer!Suguru rotting my mind. Let me know if I should make a part 2! If you enjoy it, feel free to like, reblog or comment; I’d love to know your thoughts. Thank you for reading! 

-Nanami's Munchkin

Part 2

Being roommates with Satoru and Suguru was nothing short of an adventure. It always felt like you were taking care of two cats who actually did pay rent but were a pain in the ass to handle. 

The tamed one was Suguru, the black cat with black cat energy. Satoru, on the other hand, was worse than the orange cats, a menace, making your life miserable. However, you wouldn't have it any other way – a cat person always loves the little devils immensely, despite the hell they raise.

Saturday nights were game nights for the boys. Usually, Shoko, the fourth person in the house, your white dove of peace between the guys and you was out for the weekend. The dove in question, however, had betrayed you to flock in someone else’s nest so you were left alone with the men-children screaming over a stupid game.

It's true that you don't know what you've got till you don't have it anymore. You think back on all the times you open a bottle of wine, enjoy a smoke on the balcony, and share the gossip of the week with Shoko. 

You weighed your options – scrolling through reels while silently drinking your wine while pretending you don't exist would be a lot easier than spending the night witnessing your two roommates behave like toddlers. 

So you did just that, flopped down on the armchair scrolling through feed, sipping your wine quietly. You'd downed more than half the bottle before boredom hit, causing you to look up at the TV to see what Suguru and Satoru were up to. 

The amount of fun they were having playing a violent and gory game made you cringe. For them, this was no less wholesome than a fluffy princess ride at DisneyLand.

“Seriously guys, is this fun to you? You just go around killing people!” Ideally, it'd be better to let it slide without the unnecessary commentary, but this is far from ideal so you let the boredom and booze speak for you.

“Oh and Genshin is not violent at all!! Sweet little Hillichurls getting hit by a meteorite just for existing is fun, right?” Satoru mocks back in an instant without taking his eyes off the game.

“I don’t think you know Hillichurls to be calling them sweet and little,” you argue, offended that your favorite game was dragged into the conversation.

This time Suguru replies,”Maybe you are just salty because you don’t know how to use a console.”

Taking full offense, you challenge, “I would've learnt it ages ago if I wanted to…”

“What's stopping you? That way you can play your precious Genshin on the console as well. It will be fun. Then we can all have a game night.” Suguru's tone is condescending but you understand him well enough to know when to take the bait.

“Hard pass! No way I wanna play with you both. It would only make my hair whiter than this dumbass.” You say pointing at Satoru.

“Huh! The feeling's mutual darling. I’m not psyched about you ruining our sacred games night. Also, you might finally start to look a bit attractive with hair like mine.” 

Satoru’s comment ticks you off, you know better than to let it get to you but you're too far gone to think straight now. So you put down your wine glass as you stomp to where they're sitting, ripping out the console from Suguru, settling in the tiny space between the two manspreading, “You’re on, bitch!” 

“You really think you can beat me?” Satoru looks amused, Suguru has a similar look on his face.

“Just shut the fuck up and start.”

As the game starts, you realize how dumb this decision was – you'd walked right into the trap. Not only do you not know how to use the console, you don’t even know what this game was and what you needed to do.

“I’m going to find youuu~~” Satoru says in a creepy singsong voice that makes you shriek as you try to run in the game. 

Suguru just lies back on the sofa laughing at both your antics. No matter how much you tried to believe the cat analogy exclusively applied to the two, everyone knew you were one too.

“Found you!” Satoru squeals as you nevertheless try to hide and fail miserably. And before you know it, your screen turns red with the words DEFEATED on it.

You pout at Satoru and he says, “Aww, that was no fun. Let me heal you so we can go again.”

“Really! You can do that?” You ask, looking up to him with glittering eyes.

“Satoru!” you hear Suguru suddenly scold, causing you to stare at him with confusion. And before you can ask what was wrong, you hear a few more gunshots from the game. Satoru, being the absolute worst, continues to shoot your already dead character.

‘SatoruAlmighty_89 WINS’ the screen displays.

“Suguru! Satoru is so mean!” You look at Suguru with those puppy eyes that you know makes him melt. Your final trump card, given that he may or may not have called that look adorable in the past.

“‘Toru, your name doesn’t really look that well on top of the leaderboard… kind of used to seeing my own.” Suguru pokes at his best friend just to rile him up.

“Bitch please… Do you wanna go again?” Satoru takes the bait.

“Nope. Not me… her.” he says, tilting his head in your direction.

“Hmm?” you simply give him a confused look. But before you can decipher the meaning behind his words, he wraps his arm around your waist to pull you to him in one swift motion till you’re sitting on his lap. Your face turns hot as you quickly slide down to adjust between his parted thighs instead – trying to keep the atmosphere pg-13, what with Satoru in the room.

Suguru, on the other hand, couldn’t care less – he leans forward till his chest is flush against your back, resting his chin on your shoulder. His huge arms wrap around you, enveloping you into him as they hold the console in front of you. 

“Okay, let’s defeat him, shall we?” he whispers sweetly in your ear, “Let me take it from here.” you feel his hot breath behind your ear, making you blush harder than a rose.

Satoru gives you both a disgusted look, “Ugh… get a room!”

“Somebody’s bitchless.” you tease Satoru. It wasn’t hard to sense the sexual tension that had always lingered in the back ever since you had started living together with Suguru – sure, you had two other roommates but you never wanted to tear the others’ clothes off in a fervor. Shoko had once teased you that ‘if one could try cutting the sexual tension with a knife, the knife would grow blunt due to how thick it was.’ 

As you’re laughing at the now-pouting Satoru, you twist your neck to look back at Suguru, giving him a big grin that makes his heart do summersaults. 

Suguru’s fingers encompass your dainty ones as he guides them to the console. As the guys start playing the match, you move your fingers to the side of the device, letting Suguru take control as his fingers rapidly slam and rotate the buttons. You can’t look away from his hands even when the game begins. His fingers look so sexy moving around the console that you can’t help but imagine how they would feel on you.

“Pay attention to the game, sweetheart.” he whispers into your ear. His words catch you off-guard as your eyes shoot up to the screen, embarrassed that he’d caught you staring. His comment puts you into a deeper daze but you shake it off to focus on the screen, still you find your mind wandering, barely caring about the game. 

He’s so into the game that his chest often presses against you as he tries leaning forward when a battle gets too intense. At one such moment, before you can talk yourself out of it, you shift your hips back ever so slightly to press against his crotch. You swear you feel his otherwise restless movements still for a split-second but he doesn’t let his composure falter since he had a match to win.

Suguru actually manages to win as his name makes it back on top of the leaderboard. You cheer out loud and turn around to hug Suguru, but not before tilting your head to blow raspberries at Satoru.

“What are you… like five?” Satoru complains. You simply bring your hand up to do a blah-blah gesture, rolling your eyes at him dramatically.

“It’s not fair! It was two vs one.” Satoru pouts.

“Go cry about it somewhere else. A win is a win!” you tease him further. 

Satoru gets up from his place and walks off saying, “I anyway don’t play with cheaters.” 

If you weren’t reeling in the high from your win and laughing at Satoru’s antics, you would have noticed the wink he gave to Suguru before retiring to his room.

You’re still laughing as you watch him go back to his room and shut the door behind him with a ‘night, cheaters!’

When it gets quiet, you suddenly become super aware of the way you’re still perched comfortably in Suguru's lap. 

“You need to actually teach me how to use this thing.” You say as you try to break the impenetrable tension, fumbling with the console before tossing it on the sofa, beginning to get up.

Before you can move any further, you’re pulled right back into Sugurus lap as you let out a tiny squeal at the unexpected move. Your breath hitches in your throat when you feel his clearly evident boner, hard against you.

“Did you really think I'd let you off so easily after you pulled that little stunt during the game?”

[nostromosdead]

Let It Rip! (For Better or Worse.) - Parts 1 & 2

Ellen Ripley x Y/N (gender-neutral). Y/N is a paleoanthropologist recently hired by Weyland-Yutani for initially unknown reasons. (Will probably post this on AO3 too!)

The Nostromo was a labyrinth of steel and shadows, its corridors vibrating with the steady hum of the ship’s engines. Though everything was objectively fine at this moment, there was an unspoken tension in the air. Something thick and almost suffocating seemed to cling to every surface. Yet, for now, that fragile peace held, allowing you to explore this strange new environment at your own pace.

You walked slowly, the weight of your satchel pressing into your side—a familiar comfort in a place that felt anything but. The worn leather strap, softened by years of fieldwork, reminded you of the sun-baked, humidity-ridden dig sites where you’d spent most of your career. The decision to leave that world behind, even temporarily, hadn’t been easy. But the company’s offer had been impossible to ignore. They’d been almost desperate to hire a paleoanthropologist, yet frustratingly vague about why they needed one on a deep-space commercial towing vehicle. (And, to be fair, there weren’t many specialists remaining in the field, given Earth’s rapidly declining state.)

You still weren’t sure what they expected you to find out here, but you’d answered the advertisement anyway, drawn by the promise of a hefty paycheck. Hell, if anything, you assumed you’d end up being shown a bunch of archaic plant fossils and have to sheepishly inform them that they meant to hire an archaeobotanist. But, until then, you could spend a few months in space, collect your money, and eventually get back to your real work. Whatever this was, it couldn’t be more complicated than deciphering the mysteries of a bunch of rocks, right? Right. If The Company had found something of interest, it probably wouldn’t even end up being evolutionarily significant. After all, non-specialists mistake plain ole pebbles for artifacts all the time. Surely this case would be just like any other.

The mess hall was quiet, the soft hum of machinery your only company as you poured yourself a cup of something hot and vaguely coffee-like. You cradled the mug between your hands, letting the warmth seep into your fingers as you surveyed the utilitarian design of the room. Everything on the Nostromo was built for function, much like the old fossils and lithics you studied—stripped down, ‘bare bones,’ essential.

And that’s when you noticed her.

Across the room was Ellen Ripley, her tall frame partially obscured by the dim lighting. She stood at one of the ship’s consoles, her fingers moving deftly over the keys. The attention she devoted to a seemingly minute task was focused and intense. There was just something about her—a calm, commanding presence that made you feel both curious and cautious. Kinda like if the jump and subsequent drop you feel in your gut from a rollercoaster never truly got to dropping bit. That is to say, it was an air of perpetual anticipation.

You hesitated, unsure whether you should approach her or not. Did you even have the credentials to approach her? Wait–did The Company even operate like that? Note to self: look into the social dynamics that exist between varying Weyland-Yutani positions of power. You’d heard about Ripley even before you set foot on the Nostromo—everyone had. If anything, in the form of a warning or two. She was known for her temper in conflict, as for her level-headedness and quick thinking under pressure. It was a reputation that both impressed and intimidated you. But here, in the quiet of the mess hall, she seemed almost halfway approachable. Almost.

“Y/N, right?” Ripley’s voice broke the silence, smooth and unflinching as she turned to face you.

You nearly dropped your mug in surprise, having been locked in a bout of overthinking. “Uh, yeah. Hey! That’s me.”

Ripley’s gaze was steady as she took you in. Looking you up and down, just once, as if that was all she needed to make up her mind. “How are you finding the Nostromo?”

“It’s… different,” you replied, struggling to find the right words. “Not what I’m used to.”

Ripley offered a small, almost imperceptible smile. “I imagine not. What made you sign up for this?”

You shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. “The company was pretty insistent they needed someone with my background. They didn’t say much about why, though.”

Ripley raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. “And that didn’t bother you?” Her voice was deep, and her question was stern.

“Oh it did,” you admitted, “buuuut… they’re paying me well, and I figured, why not? A few months in space, then I can get back to my real work.”

She studied you for a moment, as if weighing the validity of your words.

Ripley nodded, her expression eventually softening a smidge. “Fair enough. Well… If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.”

You felt a rush of gratitude manifest in the form of a flushed face; the tension in your shoulders easing just a little. “Oh-thanks, Ripley. Though, I hope you don’t regret that offer—I’m someone who tends to ask a lot of questions.”

She gave you a final nod before turning back to the console. “I figured as much. See you around.”

Part 2:

The days aboard the Nostromo had begun to blur together. It was a monotonous routine, occasionally punctuated by moments of fleeting curiosity. You found solace in the ship’s quiet corners, as your mind was occupied with the strange fossils you were hired to study. Not only did they appear to be actual fossils of some kind, they came with an added bonus of not entirely making sense. They were like nothing you’d seen before, and the vague instructions from The Company did little to help you understand why they’d been so adamant about having a paleoanthropologist on board–after all, what did these have to do with humans or their hominid ancestors?

Though, after your initial orientation, there was definitely one thing that Weyland-Yutani did make very, very clear.

Under no circumstances were you allowed to report your research, or its potential findings, to the rest of the crew aboard the Nostromo. They knew you were a hired researcher, aiding The Company in its various goals and ambitions, and that was where the line was to be drawn.

The rule hung over you like a shadow. It was a constant reminder that there was more to this mission than you’d been told… what had you gotten yourself into this time? A few weeks in and you’d mostly kept your head down, focusing on the work, but the unease gnawed at the edges of your mind. And then, there was Ripley.

You couldn’t help but notice her—how could you not? She carried herself with a quiet confidence that commanded attention without ever having to demand it. There was a natural strength to her, evident in the way her muscles flexed beneath her uniform as she moved with precision and purpose. The cut of her jawline, the sharp focus in her eyes, the way her lips pressed together when she was deep in thought—it was honestly hard not to be captivated.

Unfortunately for you, you’d find yourself stealing glances whenever she was near, and not to mention your heart skipping a beat when her gaze met yours. It was ridiculous, you told yourself. There were far more important things to worry about. Like, what the fuck even are the strange fossils you were suspiciously being paid to study, under the unsettling restrictions imposed by the company, to boot. But the warmth that spread through your chest whenever she was around was undeniable. You could think of it as a small comfort amidst the growing unease, or, more realistically, a sporadic social opportunity for unnecessary, internal panic that loomed on the other side of every bay door. Thank God nothing would ever actually come of it, you reassured yourself.

It was during one of these quiet moments, seated at a small workstation in the ship’s research lab, that you heard the soft hiss of the dreaded sci-med bay door sliding open. You looked up to see Ellen Ripley stepping inside, her presence instantly filling the room, akin to the drop in barometric pressure before a storm.

“Y/N,” Ripley greeted. Her voice was smooth and steady, but carried a note of curiosity. “How’s the research going?”

You leaned back in your chair, trying to steady your nerves. You knew damn well that that question was an act of defiance–and a cool one, at that. But, you couldn’t give in without putting your job on the line. “All’s well on my end, thankfully.”

It was a bold-faced lie. What you really wanted to say was ‘confusing, mostly, Ripley! These samples… they’re like nothing I’ve ever seen! It’s almost as if they don’t belong in any known classification! This is a brand new species that might even defy taxonomic classification! Unless, I just don’t know what the fuck I’m talking about, which is always an ever-present possibility. The Company wasn’t exactly forthcoming with information.’

But, you couldn’t. So, you just sat there, awaiting a response from her that at least somewhat mirrored the back-and-forth of a typical human conversation.

Ripley frowned, undoubtedly unimpressed. Her brow furrowed as she moved closer to your workstation. The subtle way her muscles shifted and flexed as she crossed the room was revealed by her rolled-up sleeves. The taut lines of strength tracing down her arms didn’t escape your notice, and you found yourself momentarily distracted by the effortless power she exuded.

“I see The Company’s ideals have gotten to ya,” Ripley half-teased. “They’re real keen on never telling you the whole story.” she said, her tone laced with frustration.

Despite her apparent aggravation, her presence was comforting. You hadn’t physically spoken to another human being all day. In fact, you weren’t even sure what the time was right now, having been so wrapped up in your own research, and the anxieties that accompanied it.

You hadn’t realized how much you’d come to appreciate her company until now. There was something warm about her that made you feel less alone in this strange, cold place.

“Any idea why they wanted you, specifically?” Ripley asked, her tone curious, but tinged with something else—concern, maybe.

You shook your head, glancing down at the samples you had just spent the past 9 hours or so investigating. Your eyes were begging for them to be put away.

“No clue,” you gave in a little. “…It’s like they were desperate to have someone with my educational background, but they’re keeping me in the dark about who’s, what’s, where’s, and why’s. To be truthful, I’m starting to wonder if I’m missing something obvious...” you lamented. Carefully, you returned the evidently-ancient objects to their respective lockbox.

Ripley was silent for a moment, her eyes narrowing as she studied where the fossils had been on the table.

“Well…” she eventually began.

“…maybe it’s not about what you’re supposed to find. Maybe it’s about confirming what they already know.”

A chill ran down your spine at her words. You clearly hadn’t thought of it that way before. But now that she’d said it, it made a disturbing amount of sense. Why else would everything be so secretive?

Ripley was quick to notice the genuine look of concern growing upon your face.

Before you could voice your growing unease or be offered any solace, the lights flickered.

Just once, but it was more than enough to catch your attention. The ship’s hum seemed to deepen, a more subtle change that you probably wouldn’t have noticed, if not for the sudden, rigid shift in the warrant officer’s demeanor.

Ripley’s eyes snapped to the lights, her expression tightening, voice deepening. “That’s not normal.”

You jumped up. The tension within you thickened like a storm cloud about to burst. It took a lot to make you cry, and this was bordering the ‘a lot’ category.

“Ah, well, what do you think it is?” You stammered to ask your far-more-experienced companion.

“Could be nothing,” she said almost casually, but the look on her face told you she didn’t really believe that. “But, we should check it out… just to confirm. Come on.”

With great haste, you followed her out of your assigned lab. Your heart began to pound loudly in your chest. Don’t get me wrong—you’ve had more than your fair share of dangerous experiences in your line of work. Artifact looters and site raiders, mostly. The key difference here was that those guys are always humans. And humans were something you were intimately familiar with, having devoted your life to studying their origins, on top of being one yourself. (And yet; you still found yourself fumbling to understand a certain Ellen Ripley, but now was not the time for that.)

The corridors of the Nostromo felt different now—they were darker, and much more oppressive. As you walked side by side with Ripley, your brain forced you to take note of the way her shoulder occasionally brushed against yours. Each order of guidance and direction sent a jolt of electricity down your spine. Despite these bright moments of contact, the cold metal walls of the height-deprived hallways seemed to be closing in around the two of you. The shadows were longer and deeper than before. The childish unease you’d been desperately trying to ignore now felt almost impossible to shake.

Ripley led the way to the ship’s control room, her movements quick and efficient, but you noticed the subtle tension in her shoulders. She was worried, too, though she hid it well. This fact was the opposite of reassuring. The door slid open with a hiss, and the two of you stepped inside.

Dallas, the ship’s captain, was already there, along with crewmates Lambert and Parker. They looked up as you entered, their faces reflecting the same unease you felt.

“What’s going on?” Ripley asked, her voice immediately slaying whatever elephant previously resided in the room.

“Power surge,” Dallas replied, his tone grim. “Not sure what caused it. Could be a malfunction, but…” He trailed off, his eyes meeting Ripley’s with an unspoken understanding.

“Could be something else.” Ripley finished for him.

A heavy silence fell over the room. You felt Ripley’s hand brush against yours—whether by accident or intention, you weren’t sure—but the brief contact sent a yet another shock of warmth through you. If anything, it served as a reminder that you weren’t alone in this. You wanted to focus on the situation at hand, but it was hard when you could feel the heat of her body so close to yours—especially when the room in which you stood was fucking freezing.

Dallas turned back to the controls, his jaw tight. “We’ll keep an eye on it. Everyone stay sharp.”

As the meeting brief broke up, you found yourself lingering, hesitant to return to the isolation of your workstation. Sensing your apprehension, Ripley’s eyes caught your own. Her gaze softened as she stepped a bit closer.

“Hey, Y/N.” she said quietly, her voice a low, gentle murmur. “We’ll figure this out, okay?”

You nodded, your throat tight with a mix of fear and something else—something warmer, more uncertain. “Yeah… thanks, Ripley.”

She gave you a small smile, one that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Get some rest if you can. We might need it.”

As she turned to leave on that somewhat ominous note, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this was just the beginning of something much darker. But, whatever it was, you had a feeling that your job was about to become a hell of a lot more complicated.

[fluentmoviequoter]

Stay by Your Side

Can be read as part 2 of this blurb or as a standalone!

Pairing: Dalton Lambert x fem!reader

Summary: You go to Kali's birthday party with Dalton and get a gift of your own.

Warnings: takes place after The Red Door, mostly fluff, brief mention/depiction of insecurity/anxiety, Josh and Renai are getting close again

Word Count: 1.5k+ words

“Dalton are you sure?” you repeat. “Because I can stop and get her a different gift. You didn’t help me.”

“Because you didn’t need my help,” Dalton answers. He doesn’t look up from the sketchpad in his lap to add, “And she’ll love it, stop worrying.”

You nod to yourself and keep your eyes on the road. Dalton’s hometown is getting closer every second, and your concerns about whether Kali will like the birthday gift you got her and if Dalton’s parents will be mad you crashed their youngest child’s birthday party eliminate any excitement you may have had.

“Is this just about the gift?” Dalton asks.

“No,” you admit quietly.

“Then what’s bothering you?”

“What if your family doesn’t like me and I just make everything awkward? Maybe it would be better if I just dropped you off.”

“Oh. Well, at least you’re prepared. They’re going to hate you. So much.”

You look quickly toward Dalton; he is turned toward you now, and his teasing smile makes you laugh. He’s good at comforting you, but he can’t know for sure how the party will go. Your worries quiet at the sound of Dalton’s reassurances, but don’t silence.

“What are you drawing?” you ask.

“Prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Cryptic. Very art-major of you, isn’t it?”

Dalton shakes his head before asking if you’re hungry. He keeps an eye out for a restaurant that looks good and tells you when to get off the highway. After you park, you reach for the door handle, but Dalton leans over the center console to stop you.

“Talk to me,” Dalton requests softly. “After everything we’ve been through, a little girl’s birthday party shouldn’t be a concern.”

“I’m telling your dad you just compared Kali’s birthday to the Further,” you whisper.

Dalton smiles and raises a hand to your cheek. He angles your face toward his and waits.

“You have an amazing family, Dalton. I just– It’ll hurt worse to find out I don’t fit in than it would not to know.”

“You belong here, with me. Everything will be fine. I promise. Besides, you’re impossible not to like.”

“Really? Then why don’t you like me?”

“If you think I don’t like you, you’re not as smart as I thought.”

“Last time you promised everything would be fine-“ you disappeared into the Further.

“That was different. Trust me, okay?”

You nod, and your eyes close as Dalton kisses your forehead. You have a few more hours to drive before you reach Renai Lambert’s house, and you think that kiss and Dalton’s promises will hold you over until you get there.

“Hi,” you greet nervously. “I’m-“

“Oh, I know who you are,” Renai interrupts. She hugs you as she says your name. “Come in, come in. We’re still setting up, but it is so nice to finally meet you.”

“You too,” you reply. “Do you need help with anything?”

“Did I hear someone offer to help?” Josh asks as he walks in. He looks at you, then Renai, then back to you. “You’re not one of Kali’s friends.”

You stifle a laugh at Josh’s reaction; less at him and more at how well Dalton and Chris describe him. “No, sir, or not yet. I came with Dalton.”

“Where is Dalton?”

“He said he went to get ice.”

“We already have ice.”

You shrug and Josh rolls his eyes as he mumbles, “That sounds right.”

“What does that mean?” Dalton asks as he walks inside.

“Just that you’re helpful, and you thought about the fact we’d have drinks… so, we’d need, you know, ice,” Josh rambles.

Renai wraps an arm around your shoulders and leads you into the kitchen as Dalton nods along with his dad’s poor excuses. She stops beside the island, where dozens of decorated cupcakes wait, and turns toward you.

“Sorry to pull you away from the entertainment, but I have so many questions. How long have you and Dalton been dating?” she asks.

“Oh, uhm… we’re not. Not really, I guess,” you answer. You take a deep breath and clarify, “Not yet. We’re close, but he hasn’t asked. Maybe he won’t.”

“He will,” Renai guarantees. “And I expect that will change quickly.”

She winks at you before asking about school and what you like to do. You help her secure tablecloths to several fold-out tables as you talk, and you feel incredibly comfortable with the Lamberts.

“Let me introduce you to Foster,” Renai says suddenly.

“We’ve already-“ you begin.

“Foster!” Renai calls as she takes you back into the living room. “This is Dalton’s friend-“

“Greenie!” Foster yells.

You laugh at his joke, and he offers a fist bump as his family looks on with raised brows. Dalton interrupts to ask when and how the two of you met.

“After I called her, obviously,” Foster answers. “Someone had to keep me updated on your embarrassing moments.”

“You’ve been talking to my brother about me?” Dalton asks you. “Then why were you so nervous?”

“Foster is one of four, I still had a 75% chance of failing,” you answer.

“Right, like anyone could not like you, Greenie,” Foster says sarcastically.

“Greenie?” Josh asks.

“Green is the opposite of red on the color wheel,” you explain sheepishly. “We started talking while you were trying to close the door.”

“Why didn’t we meet then?” Josh asks.

You shrug, and he turns his questions toward Foster.

“Guys!” Renai interrupts with a chuckle. “We need to finish setting up. Kali will be back soon."

“Whoa!” Kali exclaims as she enters the front door. “It looks amazing!”

“I’m glad you like it,” Renai replies. “Dalton’s here.”

“Prepare yourself,” Dalton mumbles to you.

Kali nods and follows her mom to the dining room, which is thoroughly decorated and already filling with presents. Kali sees Dalton but doesn’t speak to him as her eyes drift to you. You step forward and introduce yourself.

“I brought you this,” you say as you pass her the gift.

The front door opens, and the squeals of young girls greet you. Josh and Dalton close their eyes like they’re preparing for a very long afternoon, but you accept Kali’s outstretched hand and follow her toward her friends. They make a circle on the floor and talk about the theme of the party and what they want to do after eating the cupcakes.

“What’s your favorite kind of cake?” one of the girls asks you.

You answer and unintentionally start a new conversation about favorite birthdays and dream gifts. When the girls begin breaking off to play games together, you’re left with Kali. She scoots closer to you and opens her gift. After she pulls the tissue paper out of the bag, her eyes widen, and she wraps her arms around your neck to hug you tightly. You twist to hug her, and your eyes meet Dalton.

“I told you so,” he mouths.

You stick your tongue out at him before turning away to take a card from Kali, and Dalton decides he has never loved you more. He knew he needed to make a move back at JPU, but now he sees what the rest of his life can look like after college.

“How long is Dalton staying?” Josh asks as he watches you split a cupcake with Kali.

“As long as she will,” Renai answers with a smile. “They’re close, but I think seeing her with his family helped him decide.”

“Decide what?”

Renai doesn’t answer, but she and Josh watch you excuse yourself from Kali and her friends. You walk across the room to Dalton, and he extends an arm to pull you into his side. He whispers something in your ear before kissing your temple. Josh and Renai are glad to see Dalton home, and happy again.

“She’s good for him,” Renai says quietly. “Which means he’ll be like this for a long time.”

“Do you want to stay longer?” Dalton asks as he pulls you into his side.

“I want to stay for a very, very long time,” you answer.

Dalton kisses your temple, remembering the moment in his dorm before you left to drive to the party. He wants you right beside him, for as long as you’ll stay.

“You’re good with Kali,” he whispers.

“She’s great. I can’t believe you warned me like I was walking into a jungle or something. You do know I was her age once, right?”

“Yet you questioned everything you did.”

“Hey, you wouldn’t hug me for weeks after you closed the door. I know it was different, but…”

“We’re good for each other,” Dalton finishes.

“Yeah,” you agree softly, looking into Dalton’s eyes.

“Will you go on a date with me?”

You smile and whisper, “And I thought Kali was the only one getting presents today.”

You kiss Dalton on the cheek and settle against his side. It’s your favorite place to be, and you’re excited by the prospect of spending more time here. You’re both happy together, and you’ll be with him, not for a very, very long time, but until forever ends.

[okay-babe]

Dottie!! I just saw your post about preview requests and I'm frothing at the mouth excited rn :))))

Is there any chance you've got a preview to share of that southern gothic inspired fic you've talked a little bit about? I've been excited about it since you ran the poll for it weeks ago!

Ahh! Tysm, I am in love with ur writing!!!

The Hard Part - An Alastor x Reader Series Preview

synopsis: Sometimes, the decisions we make in life come back to haunt us even in death, and in this series, our reader learns the hard way that deals made with a beating heart must be tended to, even when the flesh has long since grown cold... tags: alastor x fem! reader, established relationship, alastor and reader are married, angst, childhood friends to lovers to wannabe strangers to ?, mentions of illness, mentions of discomfort note: Oh my gosh, Anon 😭 catch me openly weeping over how sweet this ask is, you're too cute! I have so much in store for this southern gothic series I'm doing (though we won't be able to get into that vibe too much until around part 2, unfortunately) and am so so excited to share it with everyone soon! Here's a little taste of what we've got going on so far :) For anyone who has an interest in learning more about this fic, feel free to check out some of the info about it here.

With a start, you shot up in your bed, hand clutched tightly to your chest.

From the depths of your stomach, you felt bile rise, nails digging into your flesh to help fight off the sensation of stifling nausea and chills.

This was hell. Literally and figuratively.

All around you, the air felt stifling and almost impossible to breathe, your lungs wheezing with effort at each futile attempt at an inhale.

"Everythin' alright in there, sweetheart?" A familiar voice called out to you from behind your bedroom door, the cheery tone unsuccessfully hiding the edge of concern that could be heard there.

You gasped around the growing lump in your throat, the strangled sound that followed just loud enough to be heard beyond your walls in spite of how hard you tried to keep yourself quiet.

You hated this part, the helplessness and anguish of it all always made worse by the fact that you were almost never allowed to just go it alone.

There was always a witness to your suffering, someone to see you crumble to pieces before their very eyes.

Your heart lurched uncomfortably within your chest as the door flew open just as you knew it would, the small woman standing on the other side standing there with shadowed and fearful eyes.

She hated this part just as much as you did, but you supposed in a few ways she might have even had it worse.

What in hell would she do if you died under her less than watchful eye?

How could she move on?

What would she ever tell your husband?

"Aw shit, doll..."

She muttered under her breath, the panic in her expression enough to make you wish it were possible to console her around the choking mass in your lungs.

She hadn't signed up for all of this, at least not entirely willingly.

It broke your heart to see her so very afraid for you, your life half clasped within her own typically careless hands.

"It's gonna be alright, I'm here."

[cypherscript]

In Bad Taste Part 1

The Observants have both succeeded and failed in the most spectacular way; they've finally Ended the Phantom brat. They were ecstatic because now he could never become the king, minus one hiccup; he was now a full ghost and pissed. He could never go home now, never be with his family and so Phantom spent the following days hunting down every Observant before Ghostly Wailing their observatory out of existence.

His heart ached, or maybe now it was his core, he was exhausted beyond belief from using so much energy. (Even with the Zone charging him he was nearing empty.)

"Why?!" Phantom wept as space around him warped, curling in on himself until he felt nothing more.

***

Batman strode into the Watchtower's briefing room, "Thank you for meeting on such short notice. I've gotten intel that the League of Assassins have found something on a dig in Greenland.

Captain Marvel speaks up at this, "Is that the country that's nothing but snow or the one that's not snowy?"

Batman just gives him a stare, "Technically both have snow but I know what you are referring to. It's the one with a lot of snow."

"Ah, good. Just wondering."

Batman taps away at his seat's console and an image appears on the monitor, an orb of black and blue crystal sits on a dais with a cushion, "This is what the League found in a small tomb there. It measured about four inches across and was nonreactive to most chemicals. However my informant reported that once the orb was brought near a Lazarus pit the orb began to glow green and the Pit in the location dried up."

"Dried up," Wonder Woman asks, "Isn't that a good thing? If the pits are gone then they cannot resurrect their companions."

"It would be a good thing but we don't know what the orb is. However we do know what the Lazarus Pits do, they bring back the weak and dying. My guess is that the orb is using the Lazarus Pit to bring something back, either by acting as a relay to something else or as itself."

"Is there anything else," Superman asks as he looks over the pictures, "I's say it could be a form of kryptonite but I've never seen colors mixed like this before or of any being two colors at once."

"Yes, I've not been able to contact my informant for several days since he sent the pictures of the orb. Zatanna had volunteered to check the orb for magic but she's not reported in just yet."

[25-Zatanna to Watchtower.]

"Speaking of, there she is." Batman looks to the door as Zatanna enters looking ragged. "What's wrong?"

"Batman, it's worse than we thought. It's much bigger than you said, the League's base is a ghost town, bodies laying around the compound. The orbs at least four feet across now."

_________________________________________________

So I started writing on and off during work this morning, kept getting distracted, I'll have to write the rest of it later but there will be a part 2 and maybe even a part 3 if the muses are kind.

[sequinsmile-x]

Retour

She loved him. She loved him so much and he loved her too. Usually, it brought her joy, made her so happy she thought she could burst, but right now it hurt. Her chest felt empty, like her heart had been carved out. Dug out with Foyet’s knife and left somewhere with what she’d hoped their future would look like.

A prequel to Retour Des Morts

-x-

Hi friends!

As always, this kind of got out of control. I originally thought it was going to be 2 parts, but it ended up just being the one!

It also wasn't initially intended to be part of the Retour series, but as I was writing it that's what it became! Since this is a prequel you don't have to have read those parts for it to make sense.

Please let me know what you think <3

-x-

Warnings: canon typical injury

Words: 5.1k

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

She hadn’t wanted a cigarette this much in years. 

The craving makes her skin itch, a welcome distraction as she sits in a hospital hallway, her leg bouncing as she waits. All she’d done today was wait. Wait for Aaron to contact her. Wait for Penelope to find him once Emily found his apartment empty, a blooming blood stain on the spot not too far from where she’d fucked him for the first time. 

She considers going to buy a pack, to visit the little store in the hospital that inexplicably sold them, but she doesn’t, worried that the smell would remind her of ice blue eyes and constant danger. It would be enough to tip her over the edge, to pull the last bit of control from under her like a rug, knocking her off her feet in a way she was not entirely sure she’d get back up from, and she couldn’t risk it.

Not when Aaron needed her. 

They’d been together since New York. Despite his insistence that he was okay to fly, she’d offered to drive him back to DC having overheard what his doctor said to him. It was something she’d offered to do without thinking, still battling with how she’d felt when she realised he was the one who’d been caught up in the explosion. How her breath had caught in her chest, how she hadn’t felt okay again until she knew he was okay, palpable relief washing over her like a wave when it was all over that she knew had nothing to do with the fact they’d stopped the terrorist’s plans. 

She’d had a crush on him since the start. It had infuriated her at first. Anger that burned her from the inside out that she wanted nothing more than to kiss her boss. Her boss who seemed to hate her. 

Her boss who was married to someone else. 

It only got worse as he slowly started to trust her and they became something close to friends. After he came to her apartment and asked her to go to Milwaukee with him they got even closer, losing any pretence that they weren’t friends after the team was reunited afterwards. He’d come to see her after he signed his divorce papers, tears he wouldn’t shed in front of her at the time shining in his eyes as he drank the scotch she gave him. He fell asleep on her couch, embarrassment coming off of him in waves the next morning that she assured him he didn’t need to feel. They got closer again after that, close to tipping into more than friends, but she didn’t want to be rebound, didn’t want to be his consolation prize. 

She told him as much when he leant in to kiss her when she dropped him off at his apartment after the drive back from New York. She’d pulled back, everything in her body screaming at her as she did so and he’d frowned. Told her that she could never be a rebound, that she’d always been more than that. She remembered staring at him, her eyes flicking between his eyes and lips, before she nodded and leant in, kissing him softly, delicately. A new thing that she now did every day, her lips against his a way she said ‘I love you,’ ‘hello’ or ‘goodbye.’ 

She loved him. She loved him so much and he loved her too. Usually, it brought her joy, made her so happy she thought she could burst, but right now it hurt. Her chest felt empty, like her heart had been carved out. Dug out with Foyet’s knife and left somewhere with what she’d hoped their future would look like. Plans of living together that they’d been making only a few days ago, a discussion interrupted by the call that had taken them to Canada, felt like it had happened in another lifetime. Like it had happened to different people. 

All she can think is that she should have gone back to his with him last night, that if she had maybe things would be different. If there had been two of them there, if she hadn’t been convinced to go out for drinks with Penelope and JJ to blow off some steam after such an awful case, maybe they could have apprehended Foyet, stopped him before he had hurt Aaron in the way he had, before he’d disappeared. 

Before Aaron had to try to explain to his son that he was having to go away for a while.

It’s why Emily had stepped out of his room, leaving his side for the first time since she’d found him here, so he could have a private moment with Jack and Haley. 

Haley had, overall, been surprisingly okay with Emily and Aaron’s relationship. There had been difficult moments at first, comments she’d later apologise for that were said in anger, but she seemed mostly happy for them. She was happy for Emily to spend time with Jack, and Emily was grateful, her love for the little boy something she couldn’t quite explain. 

She sighs when a shadow enters her line of sight, her solitude over as Dave clears his throat and draws her attention up to him from the tiled floor. 

“Emily,” he says, so much sympathy painted across his face she can barely bring herself to look at him, “Are you okay?”

She laughs, the sound catching in her chest, making her ribs ache so much it feels like they’ll burst open. Broken from the inside with the force of everything she was desperately trying not to feel. 

“Am I okay?” She asks, her lips pressed together as she shakes her head, “Let’s see shall we, Dave? I was out drinking whilst my boyfriend was being attacked by a serial killer,” she says looking up at him again, “I was doing shots of tequila whilst the man I love was…” she drifts off, her voice cracking as she blows out a slow breath, “And now he’s saying goodbye to his son for God knows how long. So no…” she clenches her teeth, forces tears that press at the back of her eyes back, refusing to let them fall, “I am not okay.” 

They fall into silence, or at least the closest thing possible to silence in a hospital. The tension between them punctuated by the hum of medical staff talking to each other and the beeps of pagers and machines keeping people alive. Dave stares at her, his hands on his hips as he stands frozen in place for a moment before he slips into the seat next to her, his elbows on his knees as he forces himself into her line of vision. 

“You are very good at your job,” he says, offering her a half smile when she frowns at him, confused at the shift in conversation, “Excellent even. One of the best I’ve ever seen-”

She sighs, the compliment seeming misplaced, hollow, the ache in her chest getting worse with every passing second, “Dave-”

“But George Foyet is good too. In the worst possible way,” he carries on as if she hadn’t interrupted, “He would have always chosen a moment when Aaron was alone. Even if you had been there he would have been prepared for it and you’d be hurt too,” he reaches out and places his hand on her shoulder and squeezes it, trying and failing to offer her comfort, “And you and I both know Aaron wouldn’t have wanted you there in danger like that. He’ll be glad you weren’t there.” 

She chokes on a laugh and it tastes wrong, bitter and heavy as she shakes her head, turning away from Dave just long enough to wipe away a stray tear, the only one to escape the dam she’d hidden everything behind, a leak she refused to allow to get worse.

 “Yeah,” she says, her lips pressed together as she looks back at him, “He is an idiot like that.” 

Dave squeezes her shoulder again before he lets his hand drop away, seemingly all too aware of how close she was to falling apart, “He’s an idiot who loves you.” 

She hums and nods, “I love him too,” she blows out a breath, “I…I don’t know if he’ll make it through this Dave,” she looks down at her hands, at her torn-up cuticles, her thumbnails framed with blood, “Foyet disappeared for years last time. A whole decade for fuck sake. How is Aaron going to survive if he has to go that long without seeing his son?” 

“We don’t stop until we find Foyet,” Dave says, sounding so sure she can’t help but look up at him, certainty written across his face that she wished she shared, “And Aaron has you. That’s how he’ll get through.” 

She’s not sure she’s enough. She never had been before, not for anyone, but she’d try. She’d do her best to help hold him together, to help him learn where all the newly shattered pieces of him went. She’d make sure she’d remember. That she’d be able to put him back together from memory, even if her fingers got torn up on the pieces, cut on the sharp edges she’d already seen a hint of in the short time they’d been in the hospital. 

“Emmy!” 

She turns as she hears Jack’s sweet voice, a brief moment of reprieve, of innocence, in an otherwise awful situation. She stands up, forcing a smile as she leans down to catch him in her arms. As she heaves him against her chest, settling him on her hip, she tries to take note of the weight of him, the feel of him in her arms. No matter how long he and Haley were gone he’d have changed by the time they got back. He’ll have grown up, days or weeks or months, maybe even years, lost. 

“Hey, honey,” she says, false enthusiasm in her voice as her eyes flick to Haley before she focuses on Jack again, “Did you speak to Daddy?”

Jack nods, his eyebrows knitting together, looking so much like Aaron it made her ache, the hollow part of her chest throbbing, “He said me and Mommy have to go away for a while.”

She smiles, hoping he doesn’t see the shake in it, and she runs her fingers through his soft hair, “That’s right,” she says, “Just for a little while.” 

It’s a lie and she knows it. It’s bitter and makes her stomach roll. She never wanted to lie to him, never beyond the usual innocent ones that came with childhood. But this was beyond Santa and the tooth fairy, and if she could protect him from the magnitude of this situation she would. 

“You’re staying here with Daddy?” He asks, tangling his small fingers in the chain of her necklace, something he did to self-soothe when he was sad or sick. She nods, swallowing thickly to push down everything she couldn’t afford to feel in front of him.

“Yeah, I’m staying here with Daddy,” she confirms, running her hand up and down his back. She knows the team are behind her now, can hear them whispering to each other, and she hates it. She feels like an exhibit in the zoo, the usual privacy she treasured gone, smashed into pieces on the floor around her. 

“I’ll miss you, Emmy,” he says, burying his face in her neck and she holds him closer, her hand tangling in his hair as she kisses the side of his head. 

“I’ll miss you too, sweet boy,” she says, kissing his head again before she looks at Haley and sees a flash in her eyes. She squeezes Jack tightly and encourages him to look at her, “I love you.” 

“Love you too.”

She blows out a breath and turns to the team. She nods at JJ who steps forward and then Emily looks at Jack, “You go with Aunt JJ, okay? I’m going to talk to Mommy.” 

“Okay,” he says, waving as she passes him over to JJ, “Bye, Emmy.”

“Bye Jack,” she says, her hands forming into fists as she lets him go, forcing herself to grab him back. 

“Come on, Jack,” JJ says, turning back to the team, “Let’s go see what snacks there are in the vending machine.” 

Emily watches as they go, her eyes on Jack until he’s out of sight, and she closes her eyes, wiping away a stray tear before she turns back to Haley. She clears her throat as she steps towards her, her arms crossed over her chest. 

“I’m-”

“You’ll look after him, right?” Haley says, cutting over whatever platitude Emily was going to say, “Aaron? He’s…not very good at looking after himself when he’s hurt.” 

She nods, “I will,” she promises, “I’ve got him.”

Haley smiles, “And I’ve got Jack,” she says, chuckling, “A Hotchner each.” 

Emily laughs, the sound wet as it catches in her chest, “Yeah.” 

She doesn’t know what to do, or how to address this situation. Haley steps forward and hugs her. Emily freezes before hugging her back, her arms tight around her back for a moment before she pulls back. 

“We’ll do everything we can to get you back as soon as we can,” Emily promises, “Foyet won’t win.” 

Haley nods as she stands back, “Aaron said something very similar,” she says tucking her hair behind her ears, “You two really are made for each other I think.”

Guilt she doesn’t understand cuts at her insides, stealing her breath as she shakes her head, “Haley-”

“I’m not being a bitch, I promise,” she says, shrugging her shoulders, looking down at the floor between them, “I always knew he’d move on. He’s a good man. He wasn’t the right man for me anymore, but that doesn’t take away the fact he’s good,” she looks back up at Emily, tears shining in her eyes, “I knew he’d move on, I just never thought he’d meet the person he probably should have always been with.” 

She doesn’t know what to say, how to respond. Everything she wants to say stuck in the gaping hole in her chest. In the end, she settles on the only thing that feels right, “I’ll look after him. I promise.” 

Haley nods and closes the gap between them, her hand squeezing Emily’s arm as she passes her, “I know you will,” she smiles tightly, “I’ll see you soon, Emily.” 

“See you soon,” she says, watching as she heads in the direction the team had gone. She blows out a slow breath, her hand pressed against her forehead as she tries to gather herself. She clears her throat and shakes her head, heading in the opposite direction to everyone else, knowing she’s needed elsewhere. 

She pauses in the doorway of Aaron’s room, “The team are taking them now,” she says, stepping further into the room, purposely keeping her distance. Her heart seizes in her chest at the look in his eyes, a tight vice around it as if Foyet himself had his fist around it. 

“Good,” he says, clearing his throat, “That’s good.” 

They fall into silence. It’s awkward and harsh and everything they usually weren’t. She picks at her thumb and looks down at her hands, “Do you want me to leave you alone?”

“No.”

She looks up so quickly she thinks in normal circumstances it would hurt, but it doesn’t. She struggles to heave in a breath for a moment, her lungs stuffed full of grief and sadness because of the look in his eyes. She’s not sure if it was his floppy hair, or the tears shining in his eyes, or both, but he looks like Jack. Young and scared and innocent and it breaks her heart. She walks over to the bed and silently encourages him forward, steadily and slowly helping him so she can settle behind him. She wraps her arms around him, careful not to press on any of his wounds, and she hugs his head to her chest. 

“I’m right here,” she says, turning her head to kiss his forehead, “I’m right here, sweetheart.” 

“I…” he drifts off, “I can’t lose you too.” 

It’s the most vulnerable she’s ever heard him sound and it makes tears splash down her cheeks, landing in his hair as they fall from her face. “I’m not going anywhere.” 

“You promise?” He asks, sounding every bit as young as he looked. His defences stripped away by pain and medication. By the heartbreak of saying goodbye to his son for an undetermined amount of time. She nods even though he isn’t looking at her and rests her cheek on top of his head. 

“I promise.” 

___

She was furious at him. He could see it rippling under her skin, in the tightness of her shoulders as she purposefully sat as far away from him as possible on the jet home, her arms crossed over her chest as she pointedly looked out of the window the entire time. Barely blinking, let alone ever tearing her gaze away from the inky black sky to cast a glance at him. 

The worst thing was, Aaron knew she had every right to be angry at him. 

He’d taken a risk. Acted without really thinking about the consequences, everything he’d been refusing to feel since he’d been attacked in his home, since he’d said goodbye to his son, all flooding to the surface at once. Anger and sadness and the need to control something propelling him forward into the house unarmed, not even deterred when he heard Emily yell after him, the use of his first name, the way fear had been pressed into every letter of it, not breaking through. 

Dave squeezed his shoulder as they stepped off the jet, a flash in his eyes that could only mean good luck as he nodded towards Emily who was already in her car, engine on, her grip on the steering wheel tight as she waited for him to join her. The drive home to her apartment - the only place they’d stayed since she’d gone to his place alone to get some of his things before he was released from the hospital - is also silent. He doesn’t even switch on the radio, doesn’t flick between channels until he finds a song they both like, instead he watches her. His gaze fixed on her profile, on the way her eyes are shining even in the low light. Flashes of sadness, flickers of devastation that he’d caused, sparking with each streetlight they passed. 

He waits until they are inside, until he’s locked the front door behind them, before he speaks, “Em-”

“Don’t,” she says, cutting over him as she drops her go bag onto the ground, the thud of it loud and echoing. She huffs out a laugh and shakes her head, one hand on her hip and the other on her forehead, soothing the headache he knows he’s caused, “Don’t,” she blows out a breath and looks up at him, her lips pressed together, a last-ditch attempt to hold back everything she hadn’t said for weeks, “What you did was so fucking stupid.” 

He frowns, anger he knows she doesn’t deserve licking at his insides, “Now wait a minute-” 

“No,” she exclaims firmly, stepping towards him, her hand held out as she points at him, “You are not my boss here. I am not your subordinate. I am your…” she trails off as her voice cracks, “I am your girlfriend who watched you walk into a house unarmed and heard a gun go off from outside as I was held back,” she swallows thickly. He can see it, can see the force it of, how she pushes down everything she’s feeling, how she almost chokes on it as it catches in her throat, one of his favourite places to press a delicate kiss when she was half asleep, “You were stupid today.” 

“I did my job.”

“No, you didn’t. You’re good at your job, Aaron. You’re excellent at it. What you did today was stupid and self-destructive.” 

“No, it wasn’t.”

She scoffs, “You have met me, right? I’m the queen of self-destruction. I recognise it when I see it.” She laughs bitterly and shakes her head, turning her back on him as she throws her hands up in the air, “That isn’t the job. You put yourself in danger for no reason other than your own…what? Arrogance? Lack of self-preservation? You could have died. Do you just not care what that would do to me?” 

It guts him, makes him stumble backwards a little as his new scars throb. He presses his hand over where the thickest one is, the phantom slice of Foyet’s knife vibrating through them. 

“Em…sweetheart. Of course, I care,” he says, reaching out for her, his chest aching as she steps back, his hand grabbing air instead of her, “I love you.” 

She sighs, her chest shuddering with it as she closes her eyes, tears spilling down her cheeks, “Yeah,” she says, licking her lower lip, “Well right now that’s hurting me, Aaron.” 

She goes to walk past him but he stops her, grateful when she doesn’t pull away this time. He wraps his hand around her arm and feels how she melts into his side against her will, “I’m sorry.” 

She nods and pulls away, “I know you are,” she says, sounding defeated as she heads for the stairs. She stops after she steps onto the bottom one, turning to look at him with her hand gripped tight on the handrail, “Do you want to know what I think pisses me off more than anything?” She asks, not waiting for him to answer before she carries on, “I’ve spent the last two days insisting that you’re fine. I told everyone else that you’re good to be back at work,” she shakes her head, “So not only are you making them doubt your judgement, you’re making them doubt mine,” she presses her lips together and shakes her head, turning her back on him, “I’m going for a bath.” 

He knows she’s asking to be left alone, to be given some space, so he doesn’t follow her. He watches her walk up the stairs, her footsteps fading away until he hears the bathroom door close. He pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs, shaking his head at himself as he walks to the living room. He sinks into the couch, his physical exhaustion catching up with him as he sits down. He feels worn out. Exhausted in just about every way possible, weary in a way he couldn’t bring himself to cover now he was home. 

Aaron knew he was being difficult. He knew he was trying Emily’s patience, that he had for weeks. Haley had always told him that he was hard work when he was sick or hurt, and Emily had said the same countless times since he was released from the hospital. She’d muttered it under her breath when he refused to do physical therapy, or when he insisted he was fine, that he could do things for himself even though he could barely stand at the end of the day.

He wanted everything with her. A house. Marriage. Children. He wanted to watch Jack be a big brother and watch Emily become a mother, something he knew she’d be excellent at through her interactions with his son and the children she worked with on cases, but he felt stuck. Frozen in time as he waited for his son to come back to him, waited until he was no longer constantly looking over his shoulder, and he knew that Emily was frozen too. Standing by his side, her love and loyalty unwavering, even though he kept trying to push her away. He was worried about her getting hurt, about Foyet going after her too, but she always waved off those concerns, a glint in her eyes he didn’t understand when she said she knew how to handle herself around men like George Foyet. 

He gives her some time to herself, and waits until he hears that the water has stopped running upstairs. The soft splashing of it around her as she moves the only sound in the apartment. Eventually, he goes to the kitchen and pours her a glass of wine before he goes upstairs, lightly rapping on the door before he walks in. 

She’s sitting in the middle of the tub, her knees against her chest and her arms wrapped around her legs. She’s surrounded by bubbles, the smell of lavender and vanilla on the air, and her hair is in a loose bun on top of her head. She looks tired, like she’s as run ragged as he is, but she’s beautiful. An ethereal thing that was somehow his. 

“Took you long enough,” she mutters, a wry smile skipping across her face as she grabs the wine from him. 

He smiles and sits on the edge of the tub, and he reaches out to squeeze her knee, the soft slippery feel of her skin grounding him, “I really am sorry, sweetheart.”

“I know you are,” she replies, her smile faltering, “But you can’t pull crap like you did today. I can’t…I can’t lose you,” she says, placing her hand on top of his and linking their fingers together, “And I can’t explain to Haley and Jack that you got yourself killed doing something stupid when we get them back.” 

Her faith that they would succeed, that they would win against Foyet, had been absolute since the start. It was something he wished he shared, a type of optimism that seemed out of place given everything they’d seen in their careers. It was almost childlike in its innocence, out of character for her, but he wanted it to be true. Wanted to believe that good always triumphed over evil, that the bad guys never won. 

“If we get them back.” 

She sighs so sadly he wishes he could take the words back. She pulls him closer and he follows, not caring that his tie is dipping into the warm water surrounding her, and she presses her forehead against his, “We will get them back, honey,” she says, nuzzling her nose against his, “We’ll get them back and then we can move forward.” 

He nods, even though he isn’t sure he believes it, and he stamps his lips against hers, “Is there room for one more in this tub?” 

She smiles and kisses him, “Why do you think I didn’t put more water in it?” 

He gets undressed quickly, purposely making sure he doesn’t look at himself in the mirror, still not used to the scars scattered across his chest. He sinks into the water behind her and she leans against him, sighing contentedly as she settles into the cradle of his hips. She passes him the wine and he takes a sip, his arms snaking around her as he pulls her closer. He reminds himself that he has this, that he has her. That somehow, in amongst all the awful, terrible things he had seen he’d found her. His anchor in a storm, a shining light that would always guide him home because she was his home, and all of a sudden, any reason he had for putting things on hold, for waiting until everything was perfect again, disappears. 

“We need to make sure we have a tub this size when we buy somewhere.” 

She tenses in his arms, tilting her head to look up at him, her eyebrows pulled together with confusion, “What?” 

He smiles, his lips catching the corner of her mouth as he leans in to kiss her, “When we get a house. I need a tub like this in the master bathroom. Non-negotiable I’m afraid.” 

Emily huffs out a laugh and turns in his arms, her skin slipping against his as she looks at him properly, “You…you still want to find somewhere else to live?” 

He cups her cheek, transferring suds from his hand to her skin, “Yes. I…I know we’re in limbo,” he says, clearing his throat, “I know I’ve put us in limbo-”

She looks devastated, guilt that he hates that she feels shining in her eyes as she shakes her head, “Honey, no. It’s not-”

“But I know this could take years,” he says, leaning forward, his forehead against hers as his voice cracks, the reality that he had no idea when he would next see his son making him ache, forcing grief and anger to crack his ribs from the inside out, “And I don’t want us to just stand still whilst we wait,” he pulls back to look at her, unsurprised to find tears shining in her eyes too, “I won’t let him take our future from me too. I won’t let him take it from you.” 

It was a hard thing to consider. To think that years could pass, that Foyet could disappear as easily as he had before, and that life would just carry on in the meantime. By the time they caught him again, Jack could be far older than he was now. He could come back to a life where his father had married again, where he’d made him a big brother in his absence. The thought of it alone broke Aaron’s heart, made it feel like it was in a vice of his own making, but without the hope of a future, of something beyond the broken misery he’d been feeling lately, he knew he’d sink into it. That he’d drown in reckless decisions and self-destruction. And whilst he’s sure he’d do that if he was alone, if he had no one to hold the pieces of him in place whilst he struggled to do it himself, he couldn’t do that now.

He couldn’t do it to Emily. 

She leans forward and kisses him, her lips fierce against his as she hooks her hand around the back of his neck, holding him in place even as the kiss comes to an end, “I love you. So much. And we’ll get through this, okay? Together.” 

He nods, his forehead knocking against hers, and for a moment, a brief moment with the woman he loves pressed against him, he lets himself believe it’s that simple, that life was ever that kind to him. 

“Together.” 

-x-

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Nintendo 3d rendering vs Sony disc size

The Nintendo 64 and the Nintendo Gamecube both had better 3D geometry than the Playstation and the Playstation 2, but the Playstations were able to have much more music and textures than the Nintendo consoles. They were also able to have more 3d objects in a space at one time. Infamously you could fit all the top 10 N64 games on a single Playstation disc, and then more.

The N64 models looked solid despite their low polygon count. It had this weird double anti-aliaising effect which made images look blurry. However, textures were very, very limited, and the cartridge could not fit much music or fmvs.

The playstation had worse geometry and even had the "wobble" effect on most games, due to its Z-buffering hardware not being used. However, it was able to make up for its weaknesses.

It used textures to elevate the look of its 3d models, and replaced backgrounds with detailed 2d textures in games like Resident Evil and Final Fantasy 7.

It also used pre-rendered videos and lots of music, things missing from the N64 entirely.

Games that use pre-rendered videos on other platforms, like "Star Wars Episode 1: Racer," had them removed from their N64 ports.

This image seems to be taken from an emulator. I'm having a hard time finding images captured from the original devices. However, you can see that the ps1 has a "wobble" effect and the n64 has lower resolution textures.

These issues ended up carrying over into the PS2/Gamecube generation.

This is Mariokart Double Dash. It's a very good looking gamecube. Its geometry is simple and it only has 16 tracks, but it's more than playable today, and still looks good when upscaled on an emulator.

This is San Andreas. While the game is graphically impressive, you'll notice that the models for vehicles and even the UI look worse when compared to Gamecube games.

However, San Andreas was able to fit so much more information on the disc than any Gamecube game.

Instead of being limited to 16 race tracks and 16 racers like Double Dash, you have an entire open world to explore and dozens of cars to choose from. You have a hundred hours of things to do in this game. There is hours of music that you can listen to in the cars.

That's why San Andreas was never ported to Gamecube - the game requires 4.2gb of DVD space, whereas the Gamecube's DVD-R was never larger than 1.4gb.

To be honest, I have no idea what black magic Capcom used to port Resident Evil 4 to Gamecube.

When the Nintendo Wii came out, it retained the Gamecube's power for the most part, while offering DVD space of up to 8gb!!! Finally it could have things like music and voice acting.

However... the PS3 and Xbox 360 were already on their way, and the standard definition Wii was far from their ballcourt.

In the Wii's early days, the PS2 was also still in a lot of hands. So developers who wanted to make games for Wii ported them to PS2, and vice versa. Both consoles ended up having lots of "previous generation" versions of games, like The Force Unleashed, which ran better on Wii than the PS2 by a small margin and had different features like motion controls.