#please for the love of god and everything holy let them have a break

[nightshadeblooming]

All tongues that rise against Woozi shall fall. I will do it myself if I have to.

[sleep-0-deprived]

Yandere CEO who is serious and strict but becomes a real puppy at the reader's feet, he gives everything the reader wants and kneels before him asking to be able to touch and give pleasure to the reader.

Yandere CEO x male reader imagines~! ૮꒰ྀི ⸝⸝․․⸝⸝ ྀི꒱ა

A/N (I did the Yandere as a sub top and I thought of the Yandere being mid forties while reader being late twenties because I thought it fit best anon!) <33

Just imagining Yandere CEO being a complete heartless man to the world, old and cold as they say. Until he seen your resume running across his desk and if you told him of love at first sight he would scoff at you and kick you out but oh my, when he seen the small picture of you next to your resume he didn’t even care to read it because this man was going to have you. The only words he could think of was “he must’ve been crafted by the gods, I bet Adonis himself spent his life carving those lips” shivers went through him dialing your number trying to get a interview with you.

Just imagining Yandere CEO who hires you at first for your pretty face making you his assistant putting you a desk in his office wanting all eight hours of your days to be spent close as he can get to you, being soft and sweet for you unlike his mean and cold demeanor with the rest of his employees. he’d glance over at you typing something on your computer quietly asking “are you alright? Did you need a break, your hands aren’t sore are they?….i can get you into a nice spa if you’d like. I don’t want my best employee burnt out”

Just imagining Yandere CEO who gets you gifts on the daily nearly pouting if you tell him not to, all he wants is for you to cling to him! He’d beg and plead asking you to let him suck you off whispering in your ear “let me help you out, boy?…I wanna ease you up a bit, you deserve the best so just let me give it to you” he’d mumble getting on his knees and massaging your thighs nice and gentle getting your cock out of your slacks worshipping it nuzzling his face into it peppering your angry tip with wet kisses.

Just imagining Yandere CEO who sends you flowers takes you on fancy trips. Sending you to Rome with him when he goes to sort out business you’re sitting somewhere in a fancy restaurant holding his black card telling you “buy anything you want, I wanna spoil you baby..” and by the time he gets back to your five star hotel room all he asks os for all your affection groaning into your ears holding you by the waist bucking and thrusting his hips up into you from beneath murmuring on and on rambling having you on his cock sending shivers through him “oh you’re so perfect~ pretty little thing~ hng oh fuck moan a little louder you sound angelic like that—“ he’d whimper spilling into you nibbling on your shoulder softly.

Just imagining Yandere CEO who asks you all sweetly if he can have you cock warm him while he manages files, pleading just wanting to please you wanting to have you all sprawled out like a happy cat with his chubby tip pressing and massaging your walls just bullying your prostate while he tugs at your cock like its glass having you orgasming more times than you can count pleasing you like it’s his life’s mission “c’mon baby boy, one more for me? I know you can push it out shhh doin perfect there’s a good boy”

Just imagining Yandere CEO who loves your chest, worshipping them as his holy grail sucking at hurrying his fave in your pretty s/c pecks. Nibbling at your nipples pressing little kisses to your peaks using his hands to massage them while he rotates back and forth making sure each one gets the perfect amount of attention “they are so beautiful sweetheart, god your skin tastes so divine” it was like sex polling with your skin covered in the finest nectar for him driving him insane hazily looking up at you with complete and utter infatuation.

[wakeup01]

Theft Of A Bro

Uffh. Yeah, that’s good. Just like I thought…tight. We’ll see how long that lasts. No need to talk bro, I know what you want to say. You’re sorry for reacting that way, that me being gay shouldn’t have changed anything. That you shouldn’t have used that slur, or called me a bitch.

Hindsight is 20/20 though, especially when you’re getting fucked by a bro who’s stealing your muscles. Dude, don’t look away. Look me in the eyes, I want you to watch your legs dangle hopelessly above you as I take your masculinity. Take the body you worked so hard for. And I want to see your expression when you begin to love it.

I can already see your arms deflating down there, becoming dainty twigs. You won’t be able to lift a thing with those. That’s okay bro, you can give that bulk to me. I’ll put it to good use. Fuck. See them balloon, so fucking good man. Rrrrww! My biceps feel so much stronger, check out these guns. Check out YOUR guns on my body. Haha. What? Come on bro, you can forgive me for a bit of flexing. Okay maybe a lot of flexing, but I can’t help it. You were always such a egocentric showoff - puffing out your chest like a territorial beast. A textbook, self obsessed fuckboy, now I understand why.

And just look at my expanding pecs. So fucking thick and juicy. Bouncing in time with my th—thrusts! Those used to be yours. You always hated how guys used to eye them up, but now you’ll be the one salivating at them. No need to try and deny it my dude, soon enough your body will have new…needs. Wow bro, you’re already looking real flat down there. Those endless hours spent at the gym to boost your fragile ego, only for me to steal it within seconds. All that definition just fading into your tiny, slimming stomach. Those grab-able hips. Fuck, me on the other hand, I’ve never felt stronger. You could break rocks on here! I’ll take good care of these abs, they look better on me anyway.

Aww, your square jaw is rounding out to a cute little pouty face. Squirm all you want. You look so adorable when trying to seem angry bro. Hard to take you seriously when you’re blushing so intensely. You did always tease my boyish features and now my head is like chiselled marble. And you? That button nose and those freckles, guys are just gonna love you. Say goodbye to being a manly jock. Hello twinky boitoi! I think your waist is now thinner than your girlfriend… or is that ex girlfriend now? That’s a body designed to be fucked brah. So just let me fuck it. Take it like a BITCH! Like the BITCH you thought I was.

Uff. I can feel my cock expanding inside you. The veins pulsing, flowing with blood. Can you feel it too bitch? Yeah, by your expression I know you can. Stretching your hole wide, filling you to the limit. Feels good, doesn’t it. Don’t look now but your dick is shrinking. I’m stealing all that length, all that girth; pushing mine deeper and deeper inside you. Pounding that prostate. There you go. A tiny nub. My churning balls are dropping lower and swelling as yours shrivel up. Mmmff. Fuck that’s sick bro.

Yeah, it’s okay to moan. Your breathy voice getting higher and higher, as mine gets deeper. Don’t be embarrassed. It’s normal for slutty bitches in heat like you. It’s in your nature. Especially when in the presence of an alpha god like me. Whew, my pits are sweating like mad, just smell that intense musk. Smells just like you used to, bet that fact makes you real hard. Smelling your scent dripping from another man as it’s stolen from you.. Sniff and moan. Sniff, moan and give everything to me.

Holy shit, even your skinny legs are hairless now bro. Just like the rest of your smooth, svelte physique. How does it feel? How does it feel to be the ideal gay bottom slut, the very thing you abhorred.

Why so quiet broski? Oh that’s right, we’re trading that pigheaded ego for an eagerness to please. You had enough confidence to share, so I’m taking it. Taking all of it. Fuck. Yes. Your outspoken nature is draining into me, leaving a timid little mouse in it’s place. A stark difference from that rude, puffed-up dick you prided yourself on being. Even now I bet part of you wants to talk back, be a brat. Hm, but that shy smile betrays what you really are. A well behaved boy who knows his manners. Isn’t that fucking right? Heh, good boy.

Look at me and see what you used to be. Marvel at me, marvel at what you’ve lost. Starstruck at your own well deserved comeuppance. Feel your nub twitch at the sight of the perfect man fucking your jock-hood into nothingness. That strength being sapped away. It makes you feel so small and weak. But you can’t tear your eyes away.

Your head? Sorry bro, I got bored of being the dumb one, so yeah, I’m taking your smarts too. Even if you did waste it and let your cock make most of the decisions. Maybe if you hadn’t held it over me, looked down at me. Well…who’s looking down now? Don’t worry, being air-headed has it’s benefits. That empty look in your eyes, the open drooling mouth. Blissful ignorance. The cute way you’ll get confused at the simplest of things. The ‘ummms’ and ‘huhs’ as you bite your lip and push out your rear. Talking like the complete basic bitch gay you once hated. The constant state of mind melting hornyiness. Dumb as a rock. A complete ditz. You’ll get by doing ‘favours’.

I’m not a jackass though. Not like you were. It’s only fair you get something of mine bro, you can have what’s left of my body fat. Unf. Straight to your rear. Let it plump up your butt to a perfect round bubble. A wobbly shelf. A big bouncy booty. Woof. Yeah just like that. The perfect entrance to your endlessly usable fuck hole. Damn, it’s tight. Let’s conquer it.

Bruh, your masculinity is truly delicious, surrender the rest up to me. To my new hulking, godlike form. Purge every trace of manliness from your puny effeminate body with abject glee. Lisp, smile and giggle like a silly little girl. Like the Femboy you were destined to become.

Like a BITCH.

Say again? Bthweed? Oh, you want me to BREED you. Way ahead of you bro. When I cum with my monster cock, your pretty little head will become stuffed with thick, cummy cotton candy. And bro, it’s never gonna clear up again. I have a new adorable outfit already picked out for you. Thigh high socks, booty shorts, a tiny thong and a nice thick collar with your name on the tag. BITCH.

I’m gonna enjoy parading you out in front of all our fraternity bros. You’ll pretend to be all timid and ashamed but I’ll know you’re actually loving the sense of humiliation. Loving your new place as my emasculated gay fucktoy. If you beg enough I might even let the rest of the frat borrow you. I’ll be sure to let ‘your’ girl know that you were a good hole after being passed around. Maybe she’ll even give you tips, you’ll be besties in no time.

Hm? That’s ‘thank you sir’ to you. That’s better. Let’s be clear, we’re not ‘bros’ anymore. I’m a fuckmachine and you’re a glorified fleshlight. We need to make sure you don’t forget your role. A simple tag will suffice. I’ll even let you choose where your ‘BITCH’ tattoo goes. Forehead or rear, it’s up to you. Yeah boi, I think it’ll look good there too.

Now open wide BITCH and be ready to swallow. I’m about to fucking blow.

———-

Whew! That was a good fuck. Clean up boy, the other bros will be here soon and I…woah. Damn, I feel lightheaded. It’s like my brain is overstuffed. With…stuff. And my cock, uughhh. It won’t soften. Maybe I took a bit too much from you, but fuck, I couldn’t help myself. You deserved it after all. But bruh, I need to lift! Huhuh! Oh shit. I don’t want to be exactly like you were! But dude. Like bruh! My head! Gotta lift! Gotta flex! Gotta get to the gym and be the blockheaded fuckboy muscle jock this body deserves!

Pass me your old jockstrap, yerhh, my huge cock gonna do the thinking for the both of us brooo!

[borathae]

BTS Reaction to: Period Sex

Genre: Smut 

Gender: female

Warnings: period sex, mention of period blood, individual warnings per member if necessary

Wordcount: 2.2k

a/n: there was a time where i couldn't imagine period sex because of 🤪trauma🤪 now i'm over here eating it tf uppp 🧡

Namjoon

cw: subbish!Joon, guilt, idk why this got a lil angsty haha

He’d be the kind of guy to pull out instantly and then panic. “Baby, this is bad. This is really bad. You’re bleeding, oh god. What do we do?” 

“I’m bleeding? But I don’t feel anything.”

You’d sit up to check and Namjoon would be a mess, gripping his own hair and staring at the blood soaked sheets in horror.

“I knew that this would happen one day. Stupid Namjoon, why can you be careful once? Everything I touch, I break. I tried so hard to be gentle with you. Stupid Namjoon, I’m so fucking rough.”

“Huh? Joonie, don’t say that. I think it’s just my period.”

“Your period?”

“Yeah”, you’d touch your own folds, “yeah, that’s my period. It feels like it. Kinda gross, isn’t it?”

Namjoon would shake his head instantly. 

“It’s not gross. You’re not gross. Nothing about you’s gross”, he’d assure you with kisses to your neck and shoulders. 

“And you’re not stupid or rough”, you’d whisper with scratches to his scalp, “slip it in like this, Joonbug. Me sitting by the edge and you standing up. Wanna have my big boy all inside me as I hug him close.”

“I want to, I got soft though. Sorry, I panicked.”

“That’s okay. Look at me.”

Namjoon would gaze down at you, sighing dreamily as you slid his softened cock back inside.

“Let’s look at each other till you’re hard again.”

Namjoon would shudder and grip you as gently as possible.

“It, it won’t take long”, he’d promise you breathily.

“Good, that’s good. My handsome Joonie. You treat me so gently.”

“Baby…holy fuck…ahm…”

Seokjin 

He’d be so mature about it, but in a funny way because he knows that you are really embarrassed about it. Some people in your past were assholes about it, which made you insecure about the entire deal. So when it’d happen, he would be mature about it. You’d be on top, riding him with your head rolled back in bliss. One of his hands would be on your tits, playing with them, the other would be on your hip with his thumb on your clit, rolling slow circles. He wouldn’t notice it at first until hot, wet slick started to smear all over his thighs and crotch. So he’d lift you for a moment, looking up at you instantly to check if you had noticed. You wouldn’t because he’d have gotten you so far gone in bliss.

“Are you hurting, darling?” he would still check up on you just in case it isn’t your period.

“No, feels good…so good…”

“That’s good to hear. You feel so good too.”

“Oh god, Jinnie…”

He’d make you cum first and then would catch you as you fled into his arms with giggles. 

“Do you feel good? My darling, do you feel good?” he’d check up on you as his hips thrust up into your tightened heat. Honest confession, he’d be really into period sex because you get so wet and fucking warm and his cock would just LOVE to be inside you when you’re like this. So he’d definitely keep going after your orgasm ‘cause he’s pussy drunk for you.

“Yes”, you’d whimper and grip his hair, “please don’t stop.”

The confession would happen during aftercare, once he made you cum too many times to count. He’d make sure you’d be giggly and happy and only then he’d drop it.

“I want you to know that there is nothing about you which would ever gross me out.”

“No? Not even my nuclear stink farts?”

Seokjin would laugh with you.

“Okay maybe those, yeah.”

And you would laugh even harder and he’d be assured that it wouldn’t trigger you anymore.

“I’m just telling you because I noticed that you started your period.”

“I did?” you’d gasp and tense up just a little.

“It’s no big deal, we can wash it off.”

And he would be nervous for a moment until you relaxed again and chuckled.

“Oh god, no wonder it felt so slippery.”

“Mhm, yeah. It’s so hot. You were so wet.”

Yoongi 

Based on Suchwita and him confessing that he passes out when seeing blood, I feel like he’d be a mess lmaoo. If he knows that your period is coming or that it is already there and you fuck, he doesn’t get squeamish around the sight because he knows that it’s not technically blood blood. But if it comes as a surprise and he thinks that he hurt you to the point of bleeding? Boy will probably drop next to you all passed out and with a fainting-victorian-lady level of whimper. It’s honestly a little funny to imagine him dropping all xOx with his boner all bloody and his thighs all messy. You’d be the one having to keep him company until he wakes again. Once he does finally wake up, he’d instantly want to apologise (with tears and on his knees) but you’d stop him with a fond “it’s just my period, you little baby”, followed by a kiss and a chuckled, “how are you? I lost you for a moment.” 

“Not gonna lie, I’m a little traumatised. I thought that I’d hurt you.”

“Nope. You just fucked me so good, you fucked my period outta me.”

At that Yoongi’s cheeks would flush blood red and he’d stutter and mutter his words.

“Don’t say, say that oh my, my god.” 

To which you’d giggle and smooch him, “you’re such a cutie, Yoongi love. Let’s hop in the show and get clean, yeah?”

“Yeah, uh, fuck sorry for passing out. That was embarrassing.”

“It’s fine. I know you’re a big baby.”

“Hey! Not cool”, he’d whine with a pout, pouting harder when you tried to kiss it away just so you would try again.

Hoseok

cw: fingering

It would happen during foreplay. You’d be making out, he’d have two of his long fingers buried inside you and you’d pump his cock slowly. Tension would be at its breaking point, you’d both wanted the other abysmally. And so you gave in. Hoseok’s slickened fingers would grip the pillow.

“Wait!”

Too late, the mess was already on the fabric. You’d both be staring at the red spot, then ogle your middle.

“I, uh…” you’d begin, feeling nervous and a little insecure. Hoseok is a lovely, wonderful boyfriend but it’s still a little embarrassing to randomly start your period in the middle of something as sexy as intercourse. 

“I mean, the mess is already made. What bad is gonna do a little more?” he would instantly assure you because he’d sense your discomfort. He is honest. It happened before that you started your period during sex and he doesn’t think it gross. He’d actually be really excited about it because you are so much warmer and wetter when you’re on your period. You are also a lot more sensitive, which finally explains why he accidentally made you cum during foreplay. 

“Are you serious?” you’d gasp, but with an excited tingle in your stomach.

“Very. I won’t let a little blood stop me. Are you down too?”

“Yeah, uh, holy fuck Hobi. Yeah I am.”

“That’s my girl. Now spread those sexy legs of yours and let me fuck it out of you.”

You would follow instantly and seconds later he would slip his engorged cock into your dripping cunt while his fingers slipped to your clit and your name left him through gritted teeth. 

“So fucking wet. Gotta fucking love your pussy, fuck baby…”

Jimin

He’d be such a worried bean. It would happen during the soft, romantic kind of sex. You and he had been tangled up in missionary for a while. Body heats were raised, lips puffy from kissing and breaths sped up. He would have to break away for a moment to give his arms some rest. His hand would slip down to your middle to rub your clit, his eyes following his touch. “Baby, you’re bleeding!” his exclaim would be instant, his worry obvious in his voice, “holy shit, are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

You would sit up as best as possible to check it out yourself. You wouldn’t be in pain, so hearing his words would be confusing to you at first until you’d see his blood coated cock and your messy thighs.

“No, I uh, I guess I started my period. Fuck, this is embarrassing.”

At that Jimin would instantly jump into caring mode. He’d cup your face and kiss your lips as he’d whisper sweet words of encouragement.

“Don’t be embarrassed. You’re so beautiful, my sweetheart. You’re not in pain, right?”

“No. No pain at all”, you’d sigh and grasp his hair because his hips would roll into you slowly and gently to distract you and get both of you back into the mood. His skilled hips wouldn’t be able to stay still now that he knew that the mess was natural and not made because of him being too rough.

“No pain?”

“No…pain…”

Jimin, who would feel you clench and tighten around him and who would taste every single one of your sighs, would lie you down gently again and slide his thumb back to your clit to rub her.

“Does this feel good to you?”

“Yes Mimi…so good…”

Taehyung 

cw: Dom!Tae, loving degradation ("my slut")

He wouldn’t say anything about it because he would have already had a gist. You get a certain way when your period is close, so he would have picked up on the signs. It would still come as a surprise because there would be far more blood than he imagined there to be. You’d be on your side with one leg bend around his waist as he fucked into you. He’d be kneeling, your thigh under him and between his own meaty thighs. His hips would be colliding with your ass with each deep, passionate thrust, his big hands would claim your soft body in strong grips and tender touches. You’d be moaning so much, shaking in his hold as he’d fuck the period horny out of you (you’d have been moody yet horny all day until he finally decided enough is enough and took care of it). One moment his cock would be glistening in your pleasure, the next it’s a deep red. The red would begin gushing out of you instantly, spreading all over his crotch and your ass and Taehyung would smirk, admiring it with blown out pupils and a throbbing cock. He fucked you good enough that your body finally gave up. That’s the kind of remedy he wanted to be for you.

“Am I fucking you good, mhm? Is my little slut finally satisfied?”

“Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!”

“Of course you are. That’s my pretty slut. Keep moaning for me. You’re such a good girl”, he’d growl and pound into you harder, gritting his teeth as you wailed for him in pure ecstasy. 

He wouldn’t mention it until after he drew multiple orgasms out of you and you’d be dripping in his seed. You’d be all cuddled and snuggled up and he’d kiss your face thoroughly with his strong arms around you.

“You started your period, by the way.”

“I did what?!”

“Mhm, don’t worry about it.”

“Oh god, this is so bad, I-”

“I said; don’t worry about it. I had a gist, I laid out a towel. Nothing’s gonna get dirty.”

“You had a gist?”

“Mhm, you get a certain way.”

“I do?”

“Mhm, you get cranky but horny. I know I can make you happy again with a good dicking down. Kinda wanted it to happen, which is why I fucked you like a slut.”

“You’re actually so annoying sometimes, oh my god”, you’d whine, making him chuckle and kiss your lips.

“Mhm, love you too.”

Jungkook 

cw: Dom!Kook, strength kink

Another candidate for worried bean, but he would try to be polite about it. The sex you and he would be having would be a little rough. You’d be on all fours, drooling all over the sheets as he’d rearrange your insides with skilled thrusts. He wouldn’t notice it at first, too preoccupied with having his head thrown back and moaning with closed eyes as your puffy cunt was milking him oh so good. His big hands would be gripping you, leaving marks and tender spots. It would honestly be so passionate and hot. Then he’d start feeling it. You’d get wetter and wetter and wetter. He’d just have to see for himself. He’d be cocky at first until he’d see the bloody mess all over his cock and thighs. Even your ass would be covered in it. He’d stop instantly, which would earn him your fingers gripping his hips in an attempt to get him to move.

“Don’t stop please, please.”

“Baby, I wanna tell you something.”

“What?” You’d move your head just enough that you could gawk at him, “now??”

“It’s really important. You should really know.”

“What is it?” you’d sound out of breath and a little annoyed. 

“I think you, uhm, started your period.”

“Really?” you’d tense up, move and squirm in an obviously embarrassed way. And Jungkook would instantly feel bad because he didn’t want to embarrass you. So he’d lie his muscular body over yours and kiss your neck and shoulders, intertwining his hands with yours so he could pin them into the sheets.

“That’s not gonna stop us, right?” he’d rasp, feeling you clench around him.

“You’re not grossed out?”

“Not in the slightest. You’re still comfortable, yeah? Nothing hurts?””

“No…just want you to move please.”

“Everything my babygirl wants. Mhm, I’m so lucky, I’ve got the prettiest girl in the world.”

[p123apples]

please God, I want to be impregnated so bad. I want him. That beautiful, radiant angel. Like a god, having come down to Earth to cleanse us of our sins.

he is beyond divine. I can’t help but drop to my knees in worship whenever I see his beautiful figure. I yearn for him in a way both primal and spiritual. I would commit more war crimes than every president in United States history just to lick the sweet, glistening sweat from his smooth, creamy skin. I want to listen to his moans as his manhood throbs within , I want to hear his heart race as our bodies become one and our souls irreversibly intertwine in the holy sin of carnal union.

I want to suckle at his motherly bosom, slurping that rich mana milk from his teat as I would stir his cream into my coffee and let his balls boil in it. His cries of pleasure and the rocking of our bed would be louder than the cacophony of ten thousand drone strikes. I would make love to him until my body gave out, and then some. I would let him break my rib cage with any part of his body. I would let him hit me with his car just to be near him for a brief moment.

he’s so perfect it hurts. Every moment without him I suffer a pain worse than breaking every bone in my body simultaneously while drowning and also having shards of glass coated in hot sauce forced through every orifice of my body. I want him, I need him. I want to desecrate his crisp general suit. I want to start a family with him and retire after our twenty seven children have grown up and moved out. I want to see those luscious lips speak such filthy, perverse words into my ear while he slides ice cubes down my gaping pisshole.

I want to fuck him like he owes me money. I would let him step on me, just to feel the soft, firm warmth of his feet upon my face and his groin area. I would sleep under him just to catch his drool in my mouth. I would fish the strands of hair from his shower drain just to smell his alluring scent, and braid them into necklaces to keep him with me always. Or cock rings. Whichever would please him more.

God please, I would do anything for him. I would relinquish my life, all my hopes and dreams, just to become the socks on his feet so that I may warm his mouthwatering toes with my very being, so that he may feel the heat of my love always. I would encase myself in cement and become his doorstep, so that he may wipe his heels upon my face. I would tear my own limbs off. I don’t know what I’d do after that, or why he might want my limbs. But I would do it.

My prince, my god, the light of my life. Please God, let me have him. I want him to be mine and only mine. I would lick the Doritos dust from his fingers and fill his belly button with honey mustard to dip my teats in. I would give him a sponge-bath with my tongue every morning and serve him breakfast in bed. I would let him eat my eggs,straight from the source . i would let him eat steak off my body if it pleased him, no matter how painful the third-degree burns would be.

I would bear the torment of eternal damnation until the end of time to taste the seat of his car but once. There is nothing I wouldn’t do for him, nothing I wouldn’t say. I wouldn’t even let myself cum until he gave me permission.

I love you,gojo . Please. Be mine. Be my life, my lover, my sorcerer daddy ,my everything. Say yes. I see it in your eyes, when you’re up there yapping about catching up to suguru or whatever. Answer my calls, respond to my letters. Something. Give me a sign, gojo. I’m waiting for you in chapter 269, come back my glorious emperor,it is time you got out of that airport or you would be escorted

descend from heaven satoru,i am waiting.

[querenciasturniolo]

i absolutely love your writing! could you maybe write something like nick and y/n is best friends and play argue/ fight all the time but y/n accidentally admits her feelings about matt and nick goes ballistic?

obviously ⮕ n.s.

word count: 1k

warnings: swearing, accidental confession, shame, embarrassment

summary: one slip of the tongue has you at a complete loss of words

a/n: thank you so much 🫶🏻 this is such a funny concept, and it was so fun writing it.

everything written is completely fictional. the people i write for are written with characteristics and mannerisms that i made for them, this is in no way depicting what would actually happen in real life.

part one || part two

Nick never kept anything he was feeling to himself.

It was one of his many charms, constantly saying how he felt. You loved it, considering he was your best friend. You were never bored when Nick was on one of his rants. Right now was one of those moments, the two of you were laying in his bed, your stomach aching with how hard you were laughing.

“No, I’m serious! This old ass man was walking so fucking slow in front of me, and then pushed the pull door. He deserved it though, he wouldn’t let me pass.” He said. You shook your head and ran your hands through your hair.

“You always get yourself in the worst situations, I swear.” You said, another smaller laugh bubbling out of you as you sat up.

Nick pushed himself up and pulled his phone out. “Okay, topic change. Why are you posting all of these mushy, agonizingly painful text quotes about love on threads all of a sudden?” He asked. You turned to face him with your eyebrows raised.

“What are you talking about?”

Nick scoffed and tapped away on his phone, pulling up your threads profile and reading one of your posts out loud. “The only love that lasts is unrequited love.” He quotes dramatically, putting his whole soul into the theatrics. “I am in love with you, and I can’t do anything about it.” He finished. Your face was burning as you shook your head and shrugged.

“I don’t know, I thought they were beautiful.” You said, the look on Nick’s face completely unamused.

“Just tell me, Y/n. I’m not gonna judge you.” He said. He stood from his bed then, the expression on his face goofy. “Is it me? Are you in love with me? I wouldn’t blame you, I’m great.” You threw your head back and laughed, meeting Nick’s smiling face once more as you shook your head.

“Please, I’m not that delusional.” You said, reaching down and sliding your shoes onto your feet. “There’s no point in me saying it, because it would never happen anyway.”

Nick’s hand rested on your shoulder, your gaze meeting his. He was frowning, and you couldn’t help but scoff at him. “Okay, now I’m convinced that it’s me.” He said, a goofy smile on his face.

You snorted and shook your head before reaching for the door handle. “Nope.” You said, Nick raising his eyebrows.

“Chris, then? You guys have been hanging out a lot.” You scoffed and pulled a face, making it seem like you found it ridiculous.

“Wrong brother, but nice try.” You said, your hand freezing before you turned the knob. You could feel the gears turning in his head as he processed your slip up.

“Oh my God, it’s Matt, isn’t it?”

You turned your head to face him, more than likely resembling a deer in headlights as you met his eyes. His eyes were wide as realization dawned on him.

“Holy shit, I knew it!” He shouted. You shushed him, holding your hands up. Nick shook his head and stepped past you, slowly turning the door handle.

“Nicolas Antonio, I swear to God.” You said through your teeth, trying to avoid laughing as he ripped open the door and bolted down the stairs. You chased after him, shouting obscenities the moment you had him cornered. He was on the other side of the dining table, his smile playful as he moved from side to side, trying to catch you off guard. You were one step ahead of him, laughter trying its hardest to break through your lips as you beamed at Nick, shaking your head with each movement he made.

“I will smite you, I can promise you that.” You said, the both of you moving to the left quickly, completely switching sides of the table. Your back was to the sink, his to the stairs and both of your hands resting on the back of a chair.

Nick laughed quietly and shook his head. “I’m not going to tell Matt you like him, obviously. That’s just fucked up.” He said. You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could, you noticed the movement out of the corner of your eye.

It took you too long to process that Matt was standing next to the fridge, his eyes wide and his mouth agape. You felt all of the color drain out of your face, shame and embarrassment creeping in as your eyes flickered between Nick and Matt. Nick finally turned around, his eyes widening when seeing Matt standing there.

Before anyone could say anything, you rushed around the table and down the stairs, rushing out of the house and to your car.

The entire drive home, you were ignoring your phone vibrating, wanting to let yourself calm down and get home before you even looked. It took you getting to your room and sitting on your bed before you even pulled your phone out to see.

You sighed and messaged Nick back, letting him know you weren’t mad at him and that you just needed some time to yourself to process everything.

You were mortified, to say the least. It felt childish to be embarrassed about having your feelings for someone revealed, but considering you’d known him your entire life, it almost felt…desperate.

It felt as though you’d ruined everything. You never wanted Matt to find out about your feelings for him, you were planning on just ignoring these feelings and letting them go away. Knowing them for as long as you have, it felt almost wrong, like you weren’t supposed to have these feelings because of your friendship.

You groaned and dropped back on your bed, grabbing a pillow and pressing it against your face to muffle yourself. Tomorrow you’d be over this, you knew the embarrassment and shame would go away quickly. You’d never been the type to let something like this hold you down, but you figured it was the shock of it all happening so quickly.

It felt like you were laying there for ages, your pillow resting on your face lightly and your arms resting above your head. Your phone vibrated next to you, your hand reaching for it blindly as the other pushed your pillow off of your head. You figured it was a text from Nick, probably asking you if you wanted to talk about it or something along those lines.

Your heart stopped in your chest when Matt’s name lit up your screen. You immediately opened the text, your hands shaking as you read over the three words over and over again.

[ahmoseinarus]

Why I'm not okay with Vax'leth...

okay, hear me out before you come for me, "their love was used to break the world"ers, cuz I'm seriously not trying to start a fight... First and foremost... this is only my opinion. And my opinion has absolutely no bearing on your thoughts, views, opinions, or what is canon. The Eight Nerdy-Ass Voice Actors have spoken: Vax'leth is canon, end of story. And I'm certainly not going to say Vax'leth shippers are wrong, or stupid, blah blah blah... hell no. That is not my place, nor my right (well, legally it is my right, but my personal morals and feelings on the matter say that it's a dick move, so). I don't care who you ship (as long as it ain't pedophilia). That's the beauty of fandoms. We can all have our thoughts, ideas, opinions, and somewhere, find someone of like mind to share them with. Second, yes. I ship Perc'ildan... But I also ship Vax'more. Hell, when I was watching Campaign 1, Vax gave Percy a big ol' smooch on the cheek, Liam said "Percy and Vax, people! Ship it!" I said "O, captain, my captain!" and never looked back. But otherwise, there wasn't much else in canon to go off of. Not like there was with Vax & Gilmore. Very quickly, the chemistry there blew me away, I was shipping them so damn fast, and I had so much hope for them! But then... "You know I'm in love with you, right?"

💔 ... that single, Iconic moment that kicked off the Vax'leth joy for nearly a decade for so many, was a moment of shattered hopes and heartbreak for me. And it came out nowhere! I was not expecting it! I knew people were shipping them (I was not in online communities yet, I got into the fandom very late, they were between C2 & C3 when I started watching C1) but I didn't know how the campaign ended, I didn't know if anyone ended up together... I had not recognized any interest between those two characters except for one brief moment, when Vax went unconscious in the fight with the Briarwoods in Emon... He pictured his mother, his sister... and Keyleth. And I thought "oh god, please don't go there." And for a couple more eps, it seemed okay, but then he dropped that line...

"You know I'm in love with you, right?"

... fuck.

Part of me wanted to stop watching. But that was silly and childish. And holy shit, the Briarwood Arc. I think I paused, though, and stared at the ceiling and had a silent mental tantrum. Later, watching him pseudo-break up with Gilmore from their pseudo-thing that was never really official to begin with, because of what looked unrequited love, left me feeling nauseous. And... it never got better. Nothing about Vax and Keyleth ever felt right.

Now, I wasn't particularly happy about Perc'ahlia either, but... I was okay with it. I mean, damn, Laura and Tal played it well, Vex & Percy had the chemistry... They came together, they said "yes, you are what I want", and "Lady in the streets, tiger in the sheets" Vex said "Great, let's fucking go," grabbed Percy by the short & curlies and has been dragging him around, plucking his flower ever since, and making him a very, very happy man. But I digress. No, Vax'leth just never felt right. The chemistry wasn't there. They always seemed just a bit out of synch, never quite in harmony with each other... I know the arguments have been made before. Keyleth and Vax felt forced; yeah, they really did. They were awkward; yeah, I mean, Keyleth was already socially awkward, Marisha played that brilliantly, but this was... more. Vax carried everything; yyyyeah, he did. He seemed desperate to make it work. Sure. I saw all of that. Every single one of "their moments" was so incredibly uncomfortable for me to watch, it was almost unbearable... There were a couple of times when I physically squirmed in response. But... why? I didn't have this response to Percy & Vex... I see Perc'ahlia fanart online, I've even read a couple of Perc'ahlia fics... but Vax'leth? I actively avoid it... I've never read anything that might include it... I block the tag on every platform, because stumbling across fanart with them in any... intimate position just brings a visceral cringe reaction from me... ... But... I'm fine with Percy/Grog. Or Percy/Tary. Or Vax/Grog. I've read a Vex/Percy/Grog. I'm down with Vex/Zahra/Kash... Vex/Percy/Zahra. o.o I've read Polymachina where it's "hm... whose bed am I sleeping in tonight?" And that's where I figured it out... because whenever characters started getting mix-matched up together, occasionally I'd find myself skipping stuff, just "oof, no, not interested in giving that paring/threesome/grouping a chance..." And I finally realized it all had the same thing in common. It was Keyleth herself. And between that, and watching C3, I started to realize something. Or recognize something. There was something about Keyleth that was resonating with me. There was something about her, that I was relating to. And once I figured it out, I couldn't believe it had taken me so long to see it. Keyleth full on fucking screams Aromantic Asexual so hard!

And she doesn't even know it herself!!!

This is an incredible woman of strength, power, wisdom and compassion. She is one of the leading figures in the entire world. Her life has been nothing but a journey of seeking knowledge, and power, and self-control, and wisdom and leadership. She has had incredible burdens and responsibilities heaped upon her shoulders since she was just a girl. Her Aramente was supposed to be about finding herself, yes, but that's also what the journey of life is. I realized that the reason that Vax'leth made me so uncomfortable, was because I recognized what I was seeing. I was watching Keyleth, who had no understanding of herself, and who had not yet had the time to explore and figure herself out, being confronted with someone that she cared about, expressing feelings for her, and she was going through the motions of trying to to respond. She was just doing what she thought she was supposed to do, playing the part she was supposed to play, and even wanted to play, because this! This is what people do! This is part of what everyone gets to have! Something that is normal, but special, and just for her, in this otherwise insane, overwhelming chaos that is the rest of her life, with the world crashing down around her... "This is what I'm supposed to do! I care for this person, he cares for me, he loves me, so I'm supposed to fall in love with him! That's what's happening! I'm supposed to do this! This is what I'm supposed to say! Is this what it's supposed to feel like when we hold hands? I'm probably just nervous and overreacting. This is what we're supposed to do. Yes, we're supposed to kiss. I'm supposed to like it. Yes, act like I like it, tell him I like it, tell myself I like it, this is what I want because I care about him, and this is what you do when you care about someone!"

At some point, you start to question. "... is it... really supposed to fee like this? Is this really what I want? Is this really love? Or... OMG have I just been playing along because I'm trying to conform to the expectations of society... and myself?!" It's confusing... because you genuinely do want it!!! Until you realize... that you don't. And then you're just confused. And trying to figure out why. Maybe you weren't really in love? Maybe you didn't really want it with this person? Or... did you ever really want it at all?

Let me tell you, some of the best smut fanfiction is written by asexuals, in case you didn't know that. There is a big difference between loving sex, and loving the idea of sex. Or loving romance, and wanting to have your own. There are so many written works of love and romance and erotic, explicit sex, being written by people who can't get enough of reading and writing it... but have no interest in having that themselves... But I'm sure quite a few of us went through the motions in our youth, of dating, kissing, or even a bit more, before we realized OMG no, keep it out of my reality and in fiction, please. Keyleth never had the fucking chance. Perhaps in their year off between the Conclave and the final Arc she started to wonder and question... I think at some point, maybe on a Talks Machina, Liam did say that Vax and Keyleth's relationship was mostly asexual. But then, of course... Vax was gone.

I wonder if he knew, on some level... Especially after his deal with the Matron. That as much as she loved him, it was not as much as she thought she did. Or, if I may, even as much as Marisha loved Vax. Maybe Keyleth has figured herself out by now... maybe she hasn't... In Dalen's Closet, she asked the Champion how she is supposed to get over him if he keeps sending her Ravens. But I can't help wondering if she isn't clinging to Vax's memory, in part, because as long as she is still grieving him, it gives her an excuse to not move on. If she hasn't moved on, and isn't moving forward in a state where someone might be trying to catch her eye, she won't have to deal with that self-reflection, and start to question if what she had with him was ever real to begin with, or just another lie she was telling herself. I have to wonder if she is ready to see and accept that part of herself. It takes a lot of time. I was in my mid thirties by the time I realized I was on the asexual spectrum. And nearly 40 when I realized I was aromantic. And now, looking at Keyleth as an Aromantic Asexual, everything just seemed to slot into place, and make sense for her, and everything that bugged me about her suddenly... doesn't anymore. I've always enjoyed Keyleth's character, outside of Vax'leth. But I'm curious, if I go back and rewatch C1 now, with this perspective, while I will certainly never like it, and will certainly never ship it... I wonder if I can at least find some peace in it. But, for those of you who think I'm stark raving mad, that Zephrah is for lovers, and the Raven & the Tempest is the love story for the ages, well... You've waited a long time for LoVM Season 3! Enjoy and savor every Vax'leth moment you get!!! But I will respectfully be filtering them out, and shall let you have your moments of triumph and delight in peace.

💖Fandom is for Shippers (Canon Compliance not required) -Responses are fine, I just ask that you bear in mind all I have put forth is my opinion, and nothing more, and I have tried to do so in a manner that is respectful to those that I know will likely not share my opinion. Should someone feel the need to come back at me with considerably less respect than I have shown, well... then in the words of one Pike Trickfoot in LoVM S1 E01... "Easy Grog... we don't waste our time on talking assholes, remember?"

[candyskiez]

usually I hate possession plots but god,I love the possessed hunter plot. because it's just so painfully resonant as an abuse victim. especially to anyone who's been abused by bigots.

like. this outside force you once loved, you spent so much of your time trying to please, so much of your time begging for the approval of, isolates you. they cause you to grow paranoid and angry, snapping at people and pushing you away from your support system. makes you seem crazy to your loved ones, making them doubt your mental health and making you question your sense of reality because you can't tell what's real or not anymore (gaslighting, baby!) you're cut off and overwhelmed. you get put in situations where you're forced to do things you don't want to, you're in so much pain, you're being treated like something with no wants or thoughts of their own. you're stripped of your autonomy. you're belittled for what you wanted and told THIS is how you're supposed to be, and you're so miserable. you're pitted against your loved ones. your abuser tries to make all your loved ones hate you so you come back to them, so they don't lose you. and belos being a horrifically realistic portrayal of an IRL abuser makes this so much worse. he craves Caleb's attention and tries to force hunter to fill that void. nevermind HES the one who robbed himself of caleb in his life by killing him. he tries to make hunter his shoulder to cry on, his therapist, his punching bag, his doctor. uses him to look at himself and go "see! look how good I'm doing! my family is back and he finally loves me again!" , he is obsessive and horrible and cruel and so horrifically realistic. he strips hunter of his autonomy, and in the shit that will start sounding familiar to people who grew up in bigoted families:

forced him out of what made him most comfortable. literally grew out his hair against his will, treated how he'd changed his body and wardrobe to make himself more comfortable as something that tainted him.

also just. holy shit the violating him like that. just the fucking undertones. it's fucking horrific.

and that's why him fighting back is so huge. because he has the strength to say, no. fuck you, no. this is my goddamn body. this is my goddamn life. he takes all these things he LOVED. he loved, that belos had taught him he was sinful and a horrible person for not despising (hm, allegories) and says, fuck you, I WANT this. I want this, I love this, you tried to teach me to hate it but I don't. I love it. I love it, and you didn't break me. I want to leave the coven, I want to leave you. you hurt me, and I said sorry. you used me, and I said sorry. I am done being sorry. I am done feeling bad. I want this life you're trying to take from me. I want to go to the boiling isles and I want to have a life there, in that world you hate so much. I want to go to the boiling isles and be sinful and disgusting and everything you hate and I will love it. I will be happy. I will be free and everything you hate. and I miss when I thought I could please you, because it was simple. but I am happier as a heretic and as a sinner, and you can't change me. I tried to change myself for you, I just ended up miserable. you can't make me something I'm not. I tried. and I am done trying. I am hunter. fuck you, my name is hunter. my name is hunter, and you hurt people. it doesn't matter if you were trying to help me. you hurt me. and I am done, and I am leaving, and most of all I will never let you hurt anyone else like you hurt me.

and he fucking got it, man. he fucking got it. he went through HELL and he still came back swinging. the death feels symbolic to me almost? losing a part of you in traumatic events and you have to live without that part. and you got out but you lost pieces of you in the process, and that stays with you.

but he keeps going. he kept fucking going man and THAT is fucking amazing to me. he kept going. ohhh my god. I wish I had this when I was 13. hunter isn't as massive of a hyperfixation for me anymore by a long shot, but goddamn. I love this dude. I LOVED the possession scene so fucking much and it will always resonate with me so, so hard.

[yakumtsaki]

Dear readers, we've been through so much together and you know at this point it takes a lot for me to describe a situation as 'out of control'.. yet here we are. So Kea moves in and the following happens in the span of like 2 hours:

Barth beats up Felina.

Kea beats up Spice.

Barth beats up Cyan.

Felina beats up Barth. Like seriously, ENOUGH. I've decided that next generation when we're at the third cousin tier relation I'm just gonna let whoever wants to date a cousin do it because holy hell, breaking them up has been a disaster. Everyone is near aspiration failure, everyone has shit grades, we're BROKE, and to top it all off..

-HELLO AGAIN

Why. WHY IS THIS HAPPENING WE DON'T OWE ANY BILLS LIKE THIS IS LITERAL THEFT. I also love how everyone is already so miserable so the repoman just comes and takes all the fun objects we can't afford to replace, FML

Barth's aspiration meter is absolutely pathetic as a result of everyone viciously assaulting him and desperate times call for desperate measures..

-Well well.. If it isn't Glitched Butler #9.. How's it hanging? ;)

-Same as always, I'm here to not cook and to open the doors we no longer have thanks to Baby.

-You know what, I'm too depressed to seduce you so will you just sleep with me?

-As you well know my butler programming prohibits me from doing anything helpful!

FFS. It's ok Barth, I will fulfill your throw a party want, I don't see how anything could go wrong with the situation in this house being what it is!

-Hey there! Join our party! Sleep with me! I COMMAND YOU

Barth please get it together.

-I CAN'T FUNCTION ROMANTICALLY BECAUSE I'M SO SAD BUT I REFUSE TO THROW ANY WANTS THAT DON'T INVOLVE ME SLEEPING WITH SOMEONE

OK DO YOU MAYBE SEE THE PROBLEM WITH THAT APPROACH

-NO

-Ugh, Spice is so hot when he's crying after I beat him up.

Ok Kea, I'm only gonna ask this once: are you fucking kidding me????

-What? It's only natural to be attracted to your girlfriend's ex who is her cousin and your enemy.

I'm just gonna pretend I didn't see this shit and move on.

So I have invited several of Barth's existing and potential lovers to this party and my goal is to figure out who, if anyone, I'm gonna marry him to. Now please enjoy this sequence of events:

a) Barth is flirting with my current top spouse pick, Stella Terrano, and it's going great!

b) Barth leaves Stella Terrano to go sleep with GODDAMN GUNNAR. Since I can't seem to shake this fucker off, the only option remaining is to give him a ridiculous fake accent to make him bearable.

-Oi luvs you, Barth!

-Why are you talking like a servant from Downton Abbey? Also who the hell caught me cheating now?

Who knows or cares? Let's continue:

c) Barth goes downstairs to beat up Cyan.

d) Klara aka my former top spouse pick attempts to leap into Barth's arms and HE LETS HER DROP

-Äääääh mein arsch!

-Sorry Klara but I refuse to get caught cheating by Gunnar..

-..unless it's with Stella Terrano!

LOL OMG, I really thought I'd have to marry him to fucking Gunnar due to THIS SHIT:

But God's mercy finally shines upon me!!!

Oh man I'm so upset by this >:)

-Ha culd youse do 'is, ya broke ma 'eart!!!

-What?

-Oh my, turtles are considered the sexiest animal in my planet👽

Stella ffs. Oh well, so sad, goodbye Gunnar, I was really hoping to add your freakish lack of chin into our gene pool but looks like I won't have the chance huhu!

e) Barth flirts with Stella again and is caught cheating AGAIN..

f) ..by Sarah Love who I keep forgetting exists but man that's a HARDCORE slap, she legit got her fingers in his eyeball(s)

-SORRY WHATSYOURNAME BUT I THINK BLINDING ME IS A BIT OF AN OVERREACTION

Yay! See Barth, our amazing party did the trick and now everything is gonna be ok!

-IM BLIND IM BLINDDDD I CAN'T SEE

Excuse me?! You know what Barth I'm done helping you, nothing is ever good enough for you!

[book--wyrm]

Pengu Finale Liveblog ahhhhhh

Julian just absolutely brain blasting this old woman

Oh Rex is close enough to call her doll and make her breakfast he is not beating the deadbeat daddy allegation

OH NO DOES SHE KNOW OH MY GOD SHE KNOWS

NEVERMIND I WAS SO WRONG ABOUT EVERYTHING SHE HAS KNOWN ALL ALONG

holy shit holy shit holy shit

okay so they did find the bodies eventually holy fuck hooooooly fuck

oh my god rex literally teaching francis how to manipulate oz and use him oh my god ohhhhh my god this is so much more of a betrayal than if francis had just hated him for what he'd done

she knew all along she knew all along and she used him and she

she

oz was right ahahahahah every relationship in his life is fuckign transactional because he KILLED THE ONLY TWO BOYS WHO TRULY LOVED HIM, AND KILLED HIS MOTHER'S LOVE WITH THEM

dude he has to kill his mother now

this is a psychological nuke the likes of which i think sofia could not possibly have ever imagined.

Francis's FACE oh my god.

Julian baby boy maybe Sofia should stand out of sight to not break immersion

God this is absolutely not how hypnotism works is it

IT'LL BE EASIER NOW YOU LITTLE PSYCHO

"I see you in ways other people don't" while she is ACTIVELY USING HIM

dude. dude. I just. It's always the same with Oz, isn't it. Sofia, Eve, his mom. He's the biggest bullshitter in Gotham, and he's so full of it he doesn't have a clue how to sniff it out

God they are both so horrific to each other. Just his horrible cycle of selfishness and toxicity what a twisted family they are

HELLO VIC I MISSED YOU

Oh rip lmao I guess the gangs know the bliss is all gone

Vic baby he's saying all the same stuff oz does, only he believes it, so he can't bullshit people to his side

Oh hey that dude on the other side of the walkie talkie lived!!

Man Oz and Sofia haven't been face to face since ep 4 hahahaha

BERTO MENTION. she hasn't used that name in a hot second

Oh my god Sofia literally using that bird nest metaphor ahahahh whoever that anon was in my inbox you are a genius

Man. Sofia literally just laying out all their horrible family drama in the worlds worst family therapy oh my god

Dude I've been saying for weeks now that Sofia's superpower is to completely shatter people with the truth and. ohhhhhh my god ohhhhhh my god ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

Wait. Is Sofia going to give that cigar cutter in her cleavage to Francis to use on Oz. I think she should give it to her.

Uh. Nevermind

Wow Sofia really is leaning into this evil therapy thing what the fuck. girl.

God i desperately want her to be the girl-jonkler running the aslume at the end of this show please please please

Also Sofia, I think it was the left. I mean I'm sure she knows just so she can do the other one next, but. man. she is fuckin sadistic. im love....

Julian so enthusiastic about all of this hahaahah

I love Sofia like, almost framing this to them or possibly herself as a gift she is giving to Francis. Is this cope? Is this something she sincerely believes? Or is she just being cruel?

I ALREADY FUCKIN KNOW

It's my finger you spineless prick hahahaahha but that doesn't matter to him because its your love he wants it's your adoration your pride and what actually happens to you? Doesn't fucking matter.

I NEVER STOPPED HATING YOU

Sofia's face right then like. damn dude. god i love her

She had enough love for all of them and he soured every last drop of it. For them, for him, for the world.

Sofia really does know the value of just letting a drama play out.

Francis saying Sofia is right this ep, Sofia saying Francis was right last ep, damn.

Oz really is... the only character in this show chronically incapable of learning

Damn mama cobb strong enough to smash a bottle. I don't think even i could do that.

Oh my god no wonder she said "they look at me like i'm not even theirs" because in her mind, she let their murderer go free

also is oz gonna hulk out that she's showing love to an imaginary jack and benny when oz has just seen her hate?

Oh is she just dying right now

Julian doing the get down mr president

MR DETECTIVE YOU DIPSHIT

Sofia baby you did great okay you already hurt Oz please just go to italy with your boy toy

Wow is he not getting this fucking stab looked at

EW EW EW EW

Yeah sure sure. Sofia stabbed you. Sure. Sure.

Oh noooo. Vic... baby.... he is such a believer in Oz's stupid self serving bullshit. He is so good. And pure. And he speaks from the heart and. And Oz acts like this is something Vic rehearsed

And they laugh about it but Vic doesn't understand. He doesn't understand that Oz isn't giving him advice on how to most effectively show people the fire you hold in your heart—he's teaching him the art of smoke and mirrors. how to con and grift and bullshit until even you don't know what's true and real

Christ. Vic is so fucking dead

She'd never look at me again unless i get this done.

Oz knowing now that this love is transactional. And fine. He'll make that transaction, he'll take down sofia and then maybe his mom will pretend again that she doesn't hate him, doesn't want him dead

it's not going to work, of course. it can't because this show is about him becoming the penguin. and it can't, because even that transaction was always a lie Francis told herself

I don't think she could ever have loved Oz even if he'd gotten her into a penthouse at age 20. I think she lied to herself to survive living with him, because what was the alternative? Losing all three of her boys?

AHAHAHAHAHAH SOFIA LITERALLY PICKING UP OZ'S GOLD SUMMIT MEMBERS i have to say. I did not anticipate this at ALL

damn girlie really is just gonna dip to go to italy or wherever

sofia really is just setting up the funniest game of capture the flag imaginable while cramming like seven olives in her mouth

i dont' say this often. i desire her carnally.

The gun in the glove compartment surely that will not come back later

Oz originally checking his image in the reflection of the car vs asking Vic now, treating this kid as his reflection

Damn. Is Link really going to fall for Oz's shit again after that truck of cigs thing? Or is this just a ploy to get Oz into the right place for Sofia to pick him up?

Actually maybe that's what loses Vic, that Link betrayed him, and Oz expected it. Idk we shall see

Penguin planning to run for mayor in a couple movies?

Oh Oz is totally gonna send sofia to arkham ahahaha poor baby

Oh my god I thought Sofia was gonna claim credit for Sal's death, not that Oz would give it up himself

I cannot tell you guys how fucking tempting it is to skip right to the end of this episode to see if i'm right you guys

Wow Oz really eyeing that Mayor's office

Is he going to kill Bella and frame Sofia. Is he gonna kill bella and THAT is what turns Vic on him.

oh my god LINK

HAHAHAH I WAS SO RIGHT SHE IS BURNING DOWN FALCONE MANOR

oh god that's the watch Sofia gave him for his birthday FUCK YOU CARMINE

Sofia really is gonna fucking screw over EVERYONE hahaha THREE CIGS BABY

oh god she is so hot i love her you self actualize through arson baybeeeeeeee

that shot of her throwing the cig like a dart is so much oh my god

babygirl i love you

you deserve the world

but yeah she is going into the cold according to the needle drop. definitely going back to arkham

... what's in the trunk. i don't think it's normal luggage. is it more bombs

there is still 20 mins left. i am afraid

This is clearly a trap for someone i just don't know who. Where is vic

I'm so afraid this is the last we get to see of Sofia.

She knows. She always has such a nose for bullshit lmao. Also fuck you Link you gotta know Oz is gonna stab you in the back.

I do think it's promising that Julian has not been seen all day tho. What is he doing.

I love this. I love that Oz and Sofia finally get this one moment to be truly honest with each other.

Well. At the very least, Oz gets to be honest with Sofia. idk that he knows how to be honest with himself anymore.

Why does this look like a chemical factory. I know it's not happening but it'd be so funny for Sofia to become the joker right now.

just dunk her in the goop

Man. Is he actually going to shoot her. Police pls come and save my girl. Cannot believe that's what I'm begging for now.

oh my god

yeah i called it but. Man. This is so painful to watch. also i think my julian prayers are not going to be answered it did not look like Sofia had planned any of this

okay i'm normal about sofia being arrested now.

Okay. I'm normal.

I'm back to not being normal francis and vic and oz all in one place this is all gonna blow up emotionally

Is francis in a coma. is she totally brain dead oh my god.

oh man she really is never going to say she loves him hahaha

she let jack and benny's murderer go and it never got her anything

is he gonna kill her now.

TELL ME YOU'RE PROUD OF ME oz you fuckin

he's so fucking delusional jesus putting her hand on his head

dude. is Vic actually gonna live through this episode

holy fuck

did not call that in the least

well. i was right about the pyrrhic victory for Oz

"All kinds of things" shut the fuck up.

God. I cannot believe Vic is living through this show. Admittedly as the kind of guy that his parents would have been ashamed of, but.

Wait. No no

don't

don't do it

no nondfonfodnfodnfodfn

please dont

pelase dont

oz don't you dare

nONONNNONONONONONONONONONONONO

PLEASE DOJNT DO IT NOW PLEAE

NO NO HE IS THEO NLY ONE WHO HAS SEEN THE WEAKNESS AND HUMAN IN YOU

OZ YOU

OZ

NO

WITH YOUR HANDS???? WITH YOUR FUCKIGN HANDS???? I THOUGHT HE WOUDL PULL A GUN AT LEAST YOU FUCKING

ODSOFANDFONSODNOSDAGNOGNIOAGDSASGJDISGNAGLNFGOSANFOSDO

SANO

NON NO NONONONO

VIC

vic. vic. vic barely lived a month longer than his family

all that good heart and he just. enabled a monster to rise to power. to make gotham worse

HE'S MUGGING HIM

YOU PIECE OF SHIT YOU PIECE OF FUCKING SHIT YOU BASTARD YOU

i

i

and the water takes him too.

JULIAN

oH MY GOD I WAS RIGHT AHHAAHHAHAHA

JULIAN

I WAS RIGHT ABOUT SOFIA GETTING MARRIAGE PROPOSALS HAHAHAHAHAH

SELINA KYLE???????? HELLO??????????????

bro.... oh my god..... this is....

I'm so happy.........

sofia smiling... sofia finding a new family member....

nvm i am so glad my original theories were wrong this is way better than anything i could have hoped for

oh my god

ohhhhh my god he actually is keeping his mom in a vegetative state.... exactly what she begged him not to do.......

she knows.... she knows... some part of her is aware in there ahahahahah

you should have let Rex kill him all those years ago

oh my god EVE???? EVE GIRL GET OUT BEFORE HE KILLS YOU TOO

oh no please tell me he never learned what happened with sofia and eve

hes literally just calling her ma. fuck me. mayeb that means eve is safe for now

NOT THE BATSIGNAL

[robindrake93]

11 days since I sent you that ask and I can now say, I get it. I get what you meant about episode 8. WE DID NOT JUST GET LUKERCY CRUMBS HOLY SHIT-

ALL OF THEIR SCENES TOGETHER WERE MAKING ME FERAL FJGKD WHICH WAS SO HARD TO KEEP IN WHILE WATCHING IT WITH MY SIS 😭😭 IT WAS SO GOOD

the training!! the entire fucking fight with luke practically begging percy to believe that he is his friend and wants him to join him!! the lighting!! just everything!!! you can soo tell luke wanted to shove percy in that portal and take him along no matter what!! (ignoring annabeths appearance cause im still on the fence with that change even if I get why they did it)

i am so going to binge read lukercy fics the entire night just to fill my rabid need for content of them after seeing that AHFJVKDKD I CANT-

You're right we didn't just get crumbs, we got a whole damn pie.

Luke not only welcoming Percy to camp but being the one to show him around, constantly by his side. Even watching him sleep from across the cabin.

The look on Percy's face when Luke tells him he's always on Annabeth's side.

Luke breaking the camp rules that two demigods (with different parents) aren't allowed to be alone in the cabins together to give Percy the shoes in his cabin (as opposed to on the hill like in the book).

Percy wanting to take Luke on the quest but being afraid that Luke would prioritize Annabeth over him.

The jealousy and disgust in Luke's voice during the Iris message when he makes the comment about "when did you two become an old married couple" and the look of equal disgust and discomfort from Percy when he says "gross let's move on from that." (paraphrasing but you get the idea)

Luke influencing Percy so much that the very first words of Percy's book ("Look, I didn't want to be a halfblood") are actually a quote from Luke.

The whole training scene.

Sword under the chin is always hot. Percy's making a face like he knows it too.

When Luke goes to sit on that rock beside Percy, he chooses a spot that lets them sit eye-to-eye but also he rocks toward Percy for a second like he's going to go in for a kiss.

Percy mirroring the head tilt that Luke (Charlie?) does.

Luke's voice full of pride when Percy does good.

Luke telling Percy he's small and scary. So fucking cute.

The way we can see via body language what book!Percy has been telling us all along: that every time Percy picks up his sword, he hears Luke's voice in his head telling him what to do.

Percy and Luke almost never take their eyes off each other for the whole secret meeting about Clarisse.

They're meeting in the woods at night. Luke didn't even have to bribe Percy this time, he just trotted after him.

Luke coaxing Percy into talking. (in the books Percy doesn't do a lot of talking out loud and Luke actually does break the ice several times because Percy is just standing there staring like a little weirdo [affectionate].).

Fireworks from beginning to end. Love the red and blue ones especially for that bisexual lighting. It was easily the best lighting in the whole show.

"Easy. I just want to show you." Everyone says that the maia scene was the hottest thing Charlie said as Luke but they're sleeping on this. Those are 'gonna take your virginity' words and his tone of voice? Mmm. Yum.

AND it's about his sword? HIS SWORD?! The most phallic weapon of all? Gods help me.

Just an interesting detail but Luke doesn't actually ever point his sword at Percy until Percy attacks him. It really shows that his plan is to convince Percy to leave with him.

"The gods are my enemy. You....." - Luke searching for what Percy is to him. lol I guess it's supposed to be a dramatic pause for dramatic effect but it really just makes it sound like Luke is debating how exactly to define their relationship.

Both of them have watery tear-filled eyes? Excuse me? Cry babies? Yes please. I told all of you so.

Also Luke is comfortable with turning his back on Percy to draw the runes (?) even though Percy drew his sword and is sweating like a sinner in church.

Luke actually proposing that they run away. Together. Just the two of them.

"We"

Percy is literally swaying on his feet. You can see that he's nervous but he also doesn't take so much as a single step backward. He still wants to be close to Luke!

Luke's determination to bring Percy with him. During their fight he does his best to keep Percy between himself and the portal. He even tosses Percy towards it a couple of times. Luke wants Percy to run away with him voluntarily but you can see as the fight goes on longer, he decides kidnapping is an option.

Luke is not leaving without his boy.

The skill difference between Percy and Luke. We see this during training too, where Luke is tossing Percy around and basically playing with him (I mean it's serious training but Luke's skill level is so above that it looks like playing). Luke is not seriously fighting Percy. He's trying to herd Percy into that portal.

Luke praising Percy in the middle of their fight.

Percy cutting Luke.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to -" Because Percy really doesn't want to hurt Luke and he's never like actually hurt someone he cares about.

Luke cutting Percy.

Looming.

The way after Annabeth shows up, Luke's eyes flit down to Percy three separate times. You can visibly see him weighing his options. I think he was debating if he could sling Percy over his shoulder and run into the portal faster than Annabeth could catch them.

"I know Luke wasn't trying to kill me." - WOW what a change from the book. I can't believe they had Percy understand that because in the pit scorpion scene, he did not get it. I'm happy about the change but surprised they made it. (makes me wonder if Percy's the one who's loyalty we're supposed to question instead of Annabeth's as the next seasons come up).

Sorry that was long but like. Wow. We won hardcore.

As for reading more lukercy fic, you'll be pleased to know that it's the lukercy valentine's event this week (02/12-02-15) so there should be ✨ new fics. ✨

[bruciemilf]

Watching the last of us currently and I believe the " Grumpy bastard who's slowly been robbed of hope meets snarky kid who's the incarnation of sunshine" trope fits Clark and Kon so well

Jon too! I mean, just this motherfucker

Meeting a kid who's like him? Immune?

"...I knew Lex was crazy but this," he gestures to the whole of Kon, to the everything around him, " This? Is the worst crime he ever did. "

Kon bites both his cheeks, too slim and too pale and too worn out for a fourteen year old. There's pieces of Clark that scar him. His anger, for one. Only thing keeping them warm anymore, " Are you talking about me or you?"

" I'm not you,"

" That's your issue!"

" Claaaaark?"

" Not now Jonny,"

" Yeah Jon, just let him finish yelling at me about how much of a mistake I am!"

" Mistakes are something unintentional, Conner; You? are a bad decision," and he feels guilty as soon as he says it. He hates it; Hates it that he's meaner, sharper. That Kansas boy with sunshine in his hair wouldn't have talked to anyone like that.

But that Kansas boy died when the world did.

" Clark! It's really important!"

Clark bites his tongue. He already yelled at a goddam teenager, he won't yell at the toddler, too. " What -- What, buddy?"

Jon's tiny finger points to a little town, " There's light in there!" Kon doesn't wait for him, and it's not like Clark expected anything different.

They haven't grown closer since Metropolis, since their feet were scraped by walking endlessly, since they've been saving eachother's lives more often than they should've.

Clark sighs as he watches him go, Jon In his arms and a loaded gun over his shoulder, " No, Jonny, don't touch that. It's bad," He says, gently grabbing the kid when that tiny little hand tries to grab the barrel. He knows Jon'll have to use one soon.

Clark just hopes he won't be around to see it.

Let them meet Jason and Bruce when Kon and Jason literally try to maul eachother,

" Kon!" There's a ball of limbs and reds and dark hair tangled together, feral and angry, mangled like two angry snakes clutching at eachother, " is he bit?!"

" I don't care!"

Crack.

Kon isn't immune to broken noses.

The building they're in is big, like everything else in the city, but slightly more titanic, more towering. Darker and brighter all of the same. The echoing of, " Jason," frames that better, traveling through the hardwood floor and walls.

"... Oh, fuck, we're in Gotham. "

" Whats Gotham?"

Jason, who's beside Bruce, now, -- The Bruce Wayne, thought hardly anyone could tell under those bruises and scars and dark smudges dripping down his diamond jawline, -- snarls,

" How the fuck do you not know what Gotham is, dipshit? What, you've been born yesterday?"

Bruce's hands squeeze at his shoulders, slightly rounder and fuller in frame than Kon's. That was expected. Everyone bleeds in the apocalypse, but no one bleeds the same, " Jason. Language."

" Last year, actually,"

"...Holy fuck," Jason gasps when Jon wiggles around, an action Bruce mimicsm, "Holy shit. That's a baby. I haven't seen a baby in years. Bruce, do you,--"

Bruce is already advancing, taking steps, not brave but not cowardly. He hands Kon a handkerchief for his bleeding nose, but there's no breaks in his and Jon's eye contact.

A stare of wonder. Fright, but wonderful. "... Hi, honey. My name is Bruce. What's your name?"

Jon's been hiding his face in Clark's neck until Bruce talked, just as scared of other human beings as Clark was, but shyness dies quickly with him. " Hi! "

" His name's Jon," Clark says, " he'll be six next week." God. He'll be six. He doesn't know. He has to pretend to know or he'll go crazy. Bruce nods. His hand is held out, " May I?"

He asks Jon if he wants to, and of course he says yes. Who doesn't want to be loved at world's funeral? Jon and Bruce cuddle in the middle of nowhere, and they're left to stare.

" Jason, show Kon the bathroom, please. And you're welcome to a shower if you'd like. But no guns," his tone is final, and Clark doesn't mind munch. He doesn't rely on them for survival.

Kon does find it weird, " Where do you keep yours, then?"

"I don't like guns."

"Then how'd you kill sickos till now?"

" We don't kill them."

" Speak for yourself," Jason mutters, pinching Jon's cheek on his way upstairs, " How slow are you, freak?"

" Not slower than you, creep!"

Clark watches. It's nice. To see him be a kid.

He turns to Bruce, unsure, skeptical, all he ever is these days, " You seriously don't kill them? Not any of them?"

" There's enough death around, Mr. Kent. I refuse to contribute. Besides. Aren't we all dead already?" Clark hums. He doesn't know how to answer that. Watching Bruce kiss Jon's cheeks is easier.

It's human.

[rosewaterandivy]

Through Me Prequel - iii. justice

Summary: The world is of but men and beasts, and you cower to none.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader, Eddie Munson x fem!reader, Steddie x fem!reader

WC: 8.5k

Warnings/Themes: cursing, criticism of religion (catholicism/xtiantiy mostly), religious themes, canon-typical violence, death, idolatry via smut, blasphemy, heretical notions, angst, occasional fluff (as a treat), Biblical & western literary canon and media references/allusions

A/N: This is the last of three prequels centering on the three main characters. This has been in the works since last July, oh my GOD!!! 👀 Thanks to my loves @jo-harrington @powderblueblood and @big-ope-vibes for letting me prattle on about this! 💜

Please do not interact if you aren't 18+.

Nota bene: Reblogging, commenting, and liking my work is always appreciated; reposting, however, is not. This (*) is a singal to check the footnote at the end!

Enjoy! 💜

Masterlist | Playlist | Currently Spinning:

"How lonely to be something that nothing wants to kill."

— Jeremy Radin

Wednesday, July 3, 1985

You are a weapon.

Salvation is an aptly named town, all things considered.

Unfortunate for this particular demon possessing the preacher, however.

After clearing the room, you inspect the various holy icons in the light streaming through the dirty window. A thrash and hiss from the man strapped to the bed as you happen upon a particular amulet tells you everything you need to know.

You step away from the window and onto the bed, kneeling over the preacher as his head rolls back, avoiding your gaze. Lowering yourself to speak directly to the demon in question, you greet, “Hi, I’m Constantine.”

A growl in response.

“I know, I know. My reputation precedes me.”

And press the amulet to his forehead, watching as it sizzles against the skin. Your free hand settles against his chest in an attempt to stabilize the man as the demon thrashes, screeches, and shakes in his body.

Muttering incantations under your breath as his wife looks on from the doorway with her Bible, thumbing worrying over the golden cross strung around her neck. You begin the prayer anew and wait for the mortal flesh to admit defeat, a human, after all, can only take so much. Finally, the body gives in and the thrashing subsides— the preacher unconscious for the time being.

Inspecting the lax body, you lean closer following the subtle movement of his breathing. The visible blue veins of his neck bulging slightly before the demonic form rears up from his throat with teeth bared.

Dropping the keyring of amulets from your hand, you land a punch directly to its gaping maw, regretting having left the gold knuckles in the impala. Shaking out your hand to alleviate the sting, you turn to the wife. “I need a mirror.”

She just stares at you, tears falling down her sunken face.

“A mirror,” You reiterate, “At least three feet high. Move! Go now!”

A few parishioners scurry off in search of a mirror. You jump from the bed and rifle through your bag by the door. Once you’ve grabbed a rope, you toss it on the bed.

“Sorry about the window,” You say to the wife as you grab a chair and break through the glass. Chunks of it fall to the ground from the second storey, a few grazing the trunk of the impala.

You string the rope through the far grate of the fire escape above and crawl back through the window, very much regretting parking so close to the scene today.

Some people return with the mirror after you’ve rotated the bed to face the now broken window. Straddling the prone preacher once more, you grab both ends of the rope and have them raise the mirror above the bed.

“Tie this onto the bottom of it.” You give one end of it to the woman to your left. Turning to your right, you give an older man the other end. “Loop this over the top, on my signal pull.”

He nods, doing as you ask and taking his position at the head of the bed, rope in hand.

To everyone else, “And whatever happens,” You lower your palm to cover the preacher’s eyes, the demon awake and glowering. “Don’t look.”

Palm covering the preacher’s eyes, you begin chanting in a litany of tongues— Latin, Hebrew, Enochian. The growling and thrashing begins anew, the demon not wanting to be ousted from its host. Everything is going according to plan when,

“Holy shit!”

A corner of the mirror comes falling toward you as a man backs away from the bedside, his hair rapidly graying and eventually turning white. His back hits the wall just as you secure the mirror with your arm, allowing the demon enough leverage to go for your throat.

Hand crushed to your windpipe, you let go of the mirror hoping it’ll hold as you grab the preacher’s wrist.

Clearly, no one can be bothered to follow directions anymore. And as much as you try to do your job without tapping into divine intuition, at times it can’t be helped.

Right now, for instance.

Shutting your eyes and taking a deep breath, you relax and allow yourself to sink into your true nature. It’s a risk, the full might of a celestial body against a mortal is no contest. And you’d hate to accidentally injure or, god forbid, kill the guy.

One hand on his wrist at your throat, the other pressing against his chest you open your eyes. The demon caterwauls for respite— the ethereal light burning against its skin, sizzling and crackling.

Using just enough of your power, you get a palm over his eyes again and maneuver the preacher so the demon could reveal itself. It’s invigorating, the thrum as it rushes through you— replenishing the depleted reserves of power in this finite form.

With a blink, divinity slips back to its slumber. Tucked neatly beneath the cage of your ribs, a warmth emanates from it, contented to be of use. But all too alluring, and you can’t become reliant on it.

Not again.

“Smile pretty, you ugly son of a bitch.” You say, taking your hand from his eyes and tilting to the side so the demon has a clear view of the mirror behind you.

It lurches from the man’s throat and lands with a thunk in the mirror’s reflection. The preacher, reeling from the remnants of possession, gazes into the reflection, eyes gone black and smiling widely.

You glance back, to see that the demon is stuck within the mirror. It hisses lowly in response. “Ugh,” With a roll of your eyes, you flip it off. “For your boss.”

Turning back to the man holding the rope, you say, “Pull it!”

He heaves with the effort; the mirror getting stuck against the window frame while the demon pounds at the glass containing it.

Shit.

Rising from the bed, you take the rope from him and give it a tug. When it doesn’t budge from its position, you walk and take the place of the man, placing one foot against the metal bedframe quickly followed by the other and leaning back.

As you tug against the rope while the trapped demon continues to punch its way out, you pull your body upward and climb your hands along it, nearly parallel to the floor at this point. The bed lurches against the floor with a metallic sounding groan.

The wood of the window frame begins to bow against the pressure. With one last forceful pull, it finally gives and sends the mirror careening through the window. Which lands you directly on the floor. You fall to your back with a thud, head knocking against the wooden planks.

The preacher’s wife rushes to the bedside, stepping on you in her haste. From your position on the ground, you listen for a sign that the demon has either escaped or the mirror has held it and shattered against the pavement.

Or your car.

You really hope it’s not your car.

There’s the sound of shattering glass from below, just as the preacher breathes in erratically and opens his eyes.

“Oh, John, you’re okay!” His wife sobs, “Thank God!”

You snort and slowly sit back up, rolling your sore neck and shoulders.

Right, thanks be to He.

Thursday, July 4, 1985

You are aching.

It’s what rouses you from sleep. Car pulled on to the shoulder of a county road somewhere between Salvation and Hawkins. Illinois, if you had to guess— farm land and cornfields as far as the eye could see.

You don’t feel pain, generally speaking, you don’t wound or scar. But none of that explains the chasm in your chest, like something cleaved it open and scooped out your guts. It makes you restless, skin itching as if it's been pulled too tight.

Sitting up, you don’t feel any better.

Back in the driver’s seat, you consult the crumpled map under the light from the dome lamp and decide to drive on what little rest you’d managed to get.

Not that you rest, per se. Recharge is more accurate.

After the engine turns over, you shift the car into gear and pull back onto the road as Creedence Clearwater Revival streams through the speakers.

One hand on the wheel as the other hangs from the window, catching the late night breeze. Heart squeezing inside the chamber of your chest. Hurt radiating from the fissure outward and flooding your veins.

Foot pressing more forcefully on the gas than you’d intended, car picking up speed on this lonely stretch of highway. If only you could just put your finger on it, what’s causing this uncomfortable and foreign sensation— you can taste it on the tip of your tongue, like ash and smoke.

A couple hours later, you turn on the familiar road driving past the ‘Welcome to Hawkins!’ sign. It takes you toward the new mall, awash with flashing red and blue lights.

“Oh, fuck.”

Taking a hard right you pull into the parking lot and kill the engine. Rifling through the glove box you finally find the gold badge you need and reach an arm into the backseat, searching for the slippery feel of a nylon jacket.

Slamming the car door and stowing the badge, you spot a familiar crop of curls hidden under a Camp Know Where hat.

“Henderson!”

He turns back immediately, eyes blowing wide at the sight of you. Hesitant to leave his post near an ambulance, you make your way toward him as you shrug on the jacket and pocket a walkie-talkie that had somehow wound up in your car.

“I knew you weren’t just a camp counselor,” He says with relief and hugs you tight, arms squeezing you around the waist.

Hand at the base of his head, feeling and looking for any injuries, you smile and pull him back to continue assessing. Satisfied that Dustin is safe, you crouch down to his level to ask, “Wanna tell me what you’re doing here?”

He doesn’t immediately respond. Casts his eyes to the pavement and kicks at some stray gravel, “Was just visiting Steve at work s’all…”

Your heart nearly leaps from your chest.

Steve.

Eyes cutting to the ambulance, you take a breath and school your features into something placid.

“Was he—”

“He’s fine, I think,” Dustin is quick to say, “At least, that’s what the paramedic said. Wouldn’t tell me more because I’m not family.” He glances to you again, concerned. “He took care of us, made sure we were safe.”

“That’s… good.” You sigh, scrub a hand down your face. “I’m glad kept you safe buddy.”

Slowly, you stand back up fingers grazing the gold badge at your hip. Running a hand through your hair, you address Dustin, “Does your mom know where you are?”

“Uh,” He flushes a deep pink. “Not exactly.”

“Right, come with me then.”

Weaving through the crowd of people assembled, you walk Dustin in front of you, hands on his shoulders, back to the ambulance. The paramedic leans against the side of it, looking toward the mall.

“Let me do the talking,” You say lowly. He nods and comes to a halt at the side of the vehicle.

A beleaguered paramedic greets you. “Kid, I told you already. You’re not fam—”

You cut him off in a brusque tone, flashing the badge at your hip. “Special Agent Constantine, FBI.”

That shuts him up.

“I understand you have one Steve Harrington in your care, is that correct?”

He nods, dumbly.

“And is it a habit of yours to linger at the scene of a crime when a patient in your care needs immediate medical attention?”

“No, ma’am.”

“I thought as much. You are going to take him,” You push Dustin forward, “And Mr. Harrington directly to the hospital.”

Dustin looks a little too smug at the dressing down you’re giving the paramedic.

“Once there, Dustin will be contacting his mother and you will see to it that Harrington receives the tests and treatment he requires.”

He nods and opens to the cab of the ambulance to let Dustin in.

Momentarily calm in the knowledge that Steve will be fine at the hospital, and that you’ll see him later, you quell the inferno raging in your chest. And dust your palms against your slacks in an effort to stop yourself from slipping into something more than human.

But just barely.

This fucking night.

You shut the door of the cab, arm leaning on the windowsill. “I’ll check on you at the hospital once I’m done here, alright?”

“He really is fine, you know,” Dustin says. “A little banged up, s’all.”

“I’m sure he is,” You agree. “Now—”

“Do you want me to give him a message?”

“Uh.”

“I know you went on that date,” He blurts out. “And Steve has been mumbling about this girl off and on so, I just put two and two together.”

“What?”

Dustin balks. “Oh,” He pauses in thought. “I just assumed it was about you.”

“Huh, okay.” You take a breath, try to give him a reassuring smile. “Tell Steve I had to go to work and I’ll try to not do anything stupid while he’s gone.”

Whatever Dustin was about to say is cut off as the engine to the ambulance turns over, red and blue lights flashing as it pulls out of the parking lot.

_

The badge does most of the talking, you’ve found, in situations such as this. After speaking with Hawkins PD and the United States military officers, you know that Starcourt served as a Russian cell for scientific experimentation and espionage. A fire broke out from an explosion in the subterranean bunker, and there was a carcass of some kind in the food court.

“We’re working to identify it now, Special Agent,” The officer reports, exhaustion evident in his voice. “But if you’d like to go in ahead of your team, we’d welcome the extra help.”

You nod, spying a familiar face in the crowd. Murray’s comforting a sobbing woman as the mall burns, but the expression on his face is reserved solely for you— confusion and disbelief, before it quickly devolves into blind fury.

“I’d be happy to help,” You say to the officer, “Let me alert the team and I’ll be back to suit up.”

Murray hasn’t left the bereaved woman yet. Blending in with the crowd, you grab the walkie from your back pocket and hold it against your mouth, as if you’re talking into it, and stand at his back.

“You’re not supposed to be here, kid,” He says over his shoulder.

“Finished up early, also? Not a kid,” You reply. “Rumor has it, I’m a world-class bad ass and good at my job.”

He snorts, “I’ll believe it when I see it.” His hand rubs soothing circles on the woman’s back, her sobs are beginning to subside from exhaustion more than alleviated grief. “But you still shouldn’t be here.”

“In your professional opinion? Or—”

“Your boss has made it crystal clear that you’re not to be involved.”

You pause, considering the information.

Jobs had dried up for the most part over the past few weeks, Murray would throw you a line every now and again, all easy and quick gigs, generally things deemed well below your pay grade. The recent exorcism being an exception.

With a lack of jobs, and no messages from on high, you’d been left to your own devices. Crashing with Steve or hanging out with Eddie and keeping an ear to the ground for any news of relics or artifacts.

“Well, I’m involved now.”

“Mmm,” He hums, arches a knowing eyebrow. “Didn’t say you were shacked up with Harrington either.”

You sigh, “Didn’t realize you were such a gossip.”

“Didn’t realize you were getting sloppy.”

The walkie in your hand crackles to life before you can hiss out a reply.

“Constantine, do you copy? Over.”

An apologetic shrug to Murray as you press the call button. “Yes, Dustin, I copy.”

The woman Murray’s been comforting lifts her head, “Constan— That’s her?”

You turn back, curious. “That’s me.”

Murray looks just as perplexed as you do. The woman sniffs, pulls back from where she’d been sobbing into his chest. “The kids— Steve, he said—”

But you never figure out what it was Steve had said, because the officer has flagged you down and waves you over to suit up and head in to the scene.

“Sorry ma’am, but I have to go.” Murray can surely smooth that over and just fill you in later.

You turn back toward the military tent and radio back to Dustin. “I’m about to head into the mall, buddy. I’ll let you know when I’m done.” You step into the tent, “Stay with Steve. Over.”

The hazmat suit is ready for you, another officer at the ready to assist. You shuck your FBI jacket onto a nearby chair.

“Don’t do it.”

You look to the walkie in your hand, shocked.

Because it’s not the rushed intonation of Dustin’s voice sounding through the speaker. It’s Steve. Not his usual pep and cadence, but him nonetheless.

“I’ll be fine,” You assure him, and you will be. You always are, but he doesn’t necessarily know that just yet.

Or at least he shouldn’t. You hadn’t had that conversation yet.

“C’mon angel,” He sounds tired, as if the act of speaking is beyond his capabilities.

“In and out, no problems,” You say, stepping into the suit at your feet. “I’ll be there in no time, promise.”

“... Okay. Be careful.”

You smile against the speaker, slipping a free arm into the suit. “I’ve seen worse, Steve. Over and out.”

Passing the walkie to another officer who places it with your jacket, you slip your other arm into the suit, duck your head as they place the SCBA over your face and zip you up.

A new radio has been supplied for you and the rest of the team going in. As you turn to leave the tent and enter the scene, Dustin’s voice comes through the walkie on the chair.

“I knew it!” He crows, “I knew you were his angel!”

“Dustin,” Steve scolds, words slurring, “Knock it off man, she’s working.”

_

Dustin and whom you can only presume to be Mrs. Henderson are slumped on the chairs in Steve’s room at the hospital, completely passed out. Tiptoeing in, mindful not to wake them, you perch at the foot of the bed.

Steve is sleeping, chest rising and falling with his steady breaths. The hum and beeping of the machines are the only sounds in the room. He looks awful, his left eye beaten black and swollen up with blood, hip lip split and bleeding. They’d cleaned him up and bandaged what they’d could, according to the attending nurse.

All that’s left to do was for him to heal and rest. The tests would come back tomorrow, there was a concern for head trauma— a concussion, but he should be discharged the next morning.

You thumb at the jewelry on your left hand, unused to the ornamentation. Figured the easiest con was to pass yourself off as newlyweds, allowing you to sign his discharge papers and take him home when the time came.

“That’s new,” He rasps, head lolling to the side as he looks at you. “Who’s the lucky man?”

You crack a smile, “Oh, just some guy. Don’t worry, he treats me real nice.”

“He better,” His hand falls to your leg, grasping your thigh. “If he knows what’s good for him.”

It’s new, this thing between the two of you. Too soon to put any sort of name to it, and this is certainly not the time, nor the place. His thumb traces patterns against your thigh, nail scraping against the fabric every so often. You remind Steve that he should be resting right now and he tells you the same.

“Counter offer,” He says when you won’t budge, “I’ll rest if you lay down with me.”

It’s easy to grant his request. Slow hands smooth away the hair from his forehead, slides the sheet off his damp shoulders, growing warm with perspiration. You have to be delicate. Don’t want to startle him any more than he already is.

“Glad you’re here.” He says, hooking one hand under your back and turning you over until his front touches yours. You place your chin on top of his head, press kisses to his hair. Your hand grips his in the dim light, letting him know that wherever you are, his words are reaching. He squeezes back gently, head settling against your chest.

A sniffle. A shudder. A shiver as goosebumps break across his arms. Steve’s not entirely awake anymore— eyes sliding back shut, sleep’s grip too strongly clamped down. It had been an exhausting few days— rigorous missions heavy on your mind and body, torture and drug-induced interrogations wreaking havoc on his.

A tug to pull the covers up, encasing his body inside the cocoon and kissing his brow. Tender. Sweet. Pouring what little claim you had to a soul into it. Not even a week with Steve, and it’s mended the cracks inside you, pieced you back together better than before.

It’s gone past midnight now. Somewhere inside the second hand of liminality— not quite sleep and not totally awake, the weight atop your chest leaves. Where it was once perched and heavy, crowding the breath inside your lungs, choking the peace from your brain.

“Everyone sleeps.”

He sounds worried— but you’re not quite sure. He sounds far away.

You lean closer and close your eyes. “Evil doesn’t sleep, Steve… And neither do I— or so they say.”

“Hush.” There’s no bite in his retort. Only a breath of a laugh.

You sigh, the weight of the week taking over suddenly now that he’s near. Something about him. Soothing. Soft fabric settles over your shoulders and wraps around your arms. Then, a hold. Secure. Safe.

Warm, like a fire. Tender, like a lover.

“C’mere, honey.” Deep. Low timbre and sonorous. It runs up your spine and beckons oblivion.

There is darkness and a soft touches. He’s blue and gold in the dim light, holding you by the hand. A stroke of a finger across your cheek. “Even angels rest.”

October 11 1985

The impala idles in the Hawkins High parking lot as you wait for Eddie. It’s a Hellfire night, so you’ve brought a well-worn paperback to pass the time. The van is out of commission currently, waiting for parts to come in at the body shop. And Steve’s working the closing shift tonight with Robin. Thumbing the pages, you turn to a dog-eared page and begin to read.

Will all great Neptune's ocean wash this blood

Clean from my hand? No, this my hand will rather

The multitudinous seas incarnadine,

Making the green one red.

“Psh, get in line buddy,” You scoff, so taken with Macbeth’s unraveling, that you didn’t even see the double doors of the school burst open, the Hellfire members streaming forth.

Eddie saunters over with Henderson, Wheeler, and Sinclair in tow, chain clinking against his thigh rhythmically. Head turning at the sound, your lip curls into a smile as he opens the door and slides in the passenger seat.

“Hi,” He greets, hand falling to rest against your thigh while the kids pile into the backseat. “D’you mind dropping the gremlins off? Already told ‘em not to touch anything back there.”

“Not at all.” You chirp, earning a quick squeeze to your leg. “Just, uh, buckle up, I guess.” You turn to glance back as you reverse from the parking spot, catching Henderson’s curious gaze falling to Eddie’s hand at your thigh. “And if you see anything rolling around back there, no you didn’t. Capiche?”

The three boys nod, eyes wide and darting to the floorboards.

Ignoring Dustin’s eyes burning into the back of your skull, for now, you elect to drop him off first. Sending him down the sidewalk to his house with a perfunctory wave, your lips pulled in a straight line. That could be a problem.

Mike and Lucas are relatively quiet in the backseat as you drive through the suburban neighborhood streets. They’re polite and grateful, mumbled thanks and goodbyes from each as they shut the door and fumble for house keys. You wait until each has entered the house and given Eddie a wave before maneuvering to Loch Nora.

“Dustin’s getting suspicious.”

Eddie’s fingers flex against your thigh, thumb rubbing circles against the warm denim. But he says nothing, just uncomfortably clears his throat and taps his foot in time with Metallica’s “Creeping Death.”

Your hands grip the steering wheel, turning from one sleepy street to the next. It’s route memory by now, navigating back to Steve’s. If pressed, you could probably find your way blindfolded and dropped at any point in Hawkins. You knew that Eddie and Steve kept their distance in your absence, both unsure of how to proceed without you there as a buffer.

They get on well enough, if a bit haltingly. The boys starting high school this year brought them into each other’s orbit, but your presence cemented it, a red string fit for three. Not that it was exactly discernable to the naked eye, more of a feeling than anything. A steadying pressure against your left ring finger, cording you to them and them to you.

And, subsequently, them to each other as well.

It’s not something you’d personally encountered before, but there were murmurs and vague mentions of it in the forgotten texts. Whimsical notions at the whims of pulp romance authors and film executives, the basis for any romance worth its salt.

You kill the engine after pulling into the driveway, hands finding his before he can bolt.

“Hey,” You say, finger curling under his chin to lift his gaze. “I know this… arrangement isn’t the easiest.”

And his eyes, so wide and wet, stare back at you skeptically. Lacing your fingers together, you open your mouth to continue.

“It’s uh,” Eddie interjects, worrying his lip between his teeth, “It’s not hard for just me.”

You blink in response.

“Steve and I,” He continues, “We talk about it. Not much, obviously.” He sighs glancing toward the front door. His palm is damp against yours, eyes dart from your gaze, narrowing as they settle on Harrington as he shuts the door and walks toward the impala.

He leans agains the door, forearm slung against rolled down window. “Hey, thought we were doing dinner.”

Glancing from Eddie to Steve you let out an indignant huff. “Change of plans,” You turn the key in the ignition and rev the engine. “Get in, loverboy.”

Clearly your attempt to protect Steve and Eddie had failed in disastrous fashion. Sure, you could blame a myriad of things, your ridiculous work schedule, for one. But at the end of the day, it all fell on you really. If you had just taken the time to talk to them, maybe some of this tension could’ve been avoided. Or at least resolved.

But no, you didn’t do any of that. So instead, it festered.

Leaving hurt feelings on all sides and an increasingly jealous set of boyfriends. Just fucking peachy.

Pulling into a clearing of the forest on the outskirts of town, you kill the engine and stomp out of the car, pine needles trampling under your boots. Fisting the lapels of your trenchcoat your chest heaves, mind racing to find the words and tone that could explain this mess away.

Two car doors thud in the distance, lowered voices in conversation as Eddie and Steve walk further into the clearing.

What is going on?

Don’t look at me, man. Fuck if I know.

The guys stop walking a few paces away, sharing confused looks and shrugs as you continue further on.

It would be as easy as a flick of the wrist, but still there was hesitation. You hadn’t slipped up in years, centuries at this point, and never of your own volition— the orders had come from on high.

To reveal yourself for what you truly were would be— well, there wouldn’t be any going back after this. No greeting St. Peter at the pearly gates or whatever schlock they spouted now.

Judging the distance safe enough, you turn on your heel, slowly, always slowly so as not to startle. It was like wading through molasses most of the time, but something you had grown used to in your time among them.

The mortals, that is.

Seeing them across the clearing you steel yourself for the fallout. And you know, for all the tales of your kind the world over, it never failed that one person would fail to heed the warnings.

In their hands, you’d left Steve and Eddie with torn scraps of cloth and instructions to cover their eyes until you said otherwise.

Dusk was quickly falling. The once overcast blue sky receded into remnants of seafoam green and teal. There was no breeze; the air felt thick and humid as it coated their lungs with each inhale. It was also silent - no crickets or birdsong accompanied the evening.

The air around you stills, the sounds of the clearing— birdsong, subtle wind, chirps and chitters from the edges of brush— all of that falls away.

You cough lightly to clear your throat. “Wrap the cloth around your eyes, secure it tightly,” you instruct, “Otherwise, the light will blind you.”

Eddie huffs in agitation, “What the fuck are you talking about?” The strip of cloth remains in his hand as he bristles, “Some of us have things to—”

“Eddie.” Steve’s voice is low in warning before he moves to wrap the cloth over his eyes.

The temperature plummets drastically as the wind begins to howl. You monitor the storm clouds now crackling with lightning and rolling through the sky at an uncomfortable pace. Taking a tense breath in, they pause inhaling the tangy scent and taste of newly forged metal - sharp and pure at the back of their throats.

And with that, you slough the mantle from your shoulders.

Their bodily response is both sedate and swift in coming. Temporal reality feels as if it is both being stretched agonizingly apart and contracting back together too quickly. A demanding rain begins to fall but the droplets evaporate before falling to the ground - all too hot and cloying but the air is somehow refreshing and cool.

Eddie is sick, vomit splashing onto the ground and just missing their feet. Steve feels an acrid bile rising its way up their throat and makes an effort to stifle it.

The crackling lightning intensifies, all of which is your doing, and through a cloudbreak a white burst of flame appears. A monstrosity, really, stories tall with a white-hot heat as it lands in the clearing. A swath of the field is scorched beneath the beaming tower of flame.

An energy reverberates throughout their chests - a constant buzzing hum that defies all reason. A sniffle emanates from Steve, the cloth around his eyes bleeds with the precipitation of his tears - why he is crying he could not say as he stumbles to his knees; a shortness of breath that Eddie hasn’t dealt with in years comes upon him as he staggers to the ground.

“BE NOT AFRAID.”

A buzz, a sound, a feeling, an innate knowledge.

What was once a furious beam of white-hot flame has transformed into a divine being: six pairs of wings, countless phosphorescent eyes, stories tall, bedecked in arrays of gold and billowing white. The voice - if you can call it that - is soft as a lover’s caress but harsh and cacophonous at the same time.

“YOU HAVE CALLED.”

Every blaspheme, exalted prayer, cursed assemblage of words, tear strewn plea; they had all been heard. The odds had been weighed. There had been agreement. And here was the answer.

“YOU HAVE BEEN DEEMED WORTHY OF AID.”

A boom of thunder and the apparition vanishes.

Eddie rips off the bandage from his eyes and glances up to find a winged body fallen right where you’d been standing, scorch marks in a charred circle around you. He rises quickly and breaks into a run, Steve not long behind. He drapes his jacket over your prone form. Mindful of the enormous dove gray wings, he scoops up your lax figure and turns.

Eddie, who can’t seem to stop the silent tears as they track down his face, is the first to speak, “W-was that an…” he trails off, not wanting to shatter the illusion.

Before he can step forward Steve stops him with a hand to his shoulder - holding him in place. “This isn’t possible,” he mutters before growing in confidence, “That literally should not happen.”

Steve sighs and claps Eddie on the shoulder, “Welcome to the club buddy, we’ve all seen things that shouldn’t happen.”

“Is she bleeding?” Eddie asks from the backseat, your head resting on his lap.

You’ve been out cold since the clearing, as silent as the grave.

It’s more than a little unnerving.

Steve takes charge because Eddie can’t string more than a sentence together before going silent in shock.

He’s driving the impala back to his house, taking the back roads and speeding as if he could outrun the devil. He takes a moment to glance back, eyes going from Eddie’s cow-eyed stare to your limp body and back again.

”I dunno, is she? Can you staunch the flow with something?”

Eddie grabs the black bandana from his back pocket and gently turns you on your side.

Dull splotches have seeped onto the backseat, four to be precise. Eddie gently dabs the fabric at the four open wounds seeping a golden fluid. He clears his throat and glances up to meet Steve’s gaze in the rearview mirror.

“Harrington, I think we have an issue.”

Steve hums in assent and punches down on the gas pedal.

A soft groan falls from your lips as Eddie sets you down on the couch in Steve’s living room. His bandana is covered in this golden fluid, which he can only assume is something akin to blood. Modesty be damned because the wings are proving to be quite the problem, you’re gently turned onto your stomach so they can inspect your wounds.

The first appears at the nape of the neck, followed by the sprouting of two wings, further down three identical wounds lie all equally spaced and of the same size. They’re minor enough to clean and bandage. “Ichor,” Eddie guesses, as Steve returns with the first-aid kit.

Steve takes a step forward, “Eddie, the wounds need to be attended to first,” he says cautiously.

Nodding to Steve Eddie moves to the side. Allowing him to get out the gauze and bandages. He places a tube of neosporin to the side as well. Together they attend to the wounds, applying the salve and bandages as best they can before sitting back on their heels.

Eddie swallows audibly.

”Got any beer, Harrington?”

Steve snorts and does one better. He claps a hand on Eddie’s shoulder before rising and disappearing into a room just off the entryway, only to return with two glasses and a bottle of bourbon.

”Atta boy,” Eddie says, taking the bottle and opening it. He ignores the crystal glasses and takes a pull before handing it off to Steve.

With a deep sigh, Eddie begins: “She said we had called; what does that mean?”

Steve takes a sip of bourbon and shrugs, “Prayers, I guess.”

Eddie sighs, “Okay, sure. And how are you the expert here?”

He shrugs, “I think I’ve known for a while…” He reclines slightly on the carpeted floor, “I’ve known her for a few years now, but I met her after Barb disappeared. She said she was a detective and asked me a few questions.” He takes another drink. “After she left, I had the worst headache of my life and slept the day away. Woke up with dried blood in my ears.”

The room stills with an uneasy quiet.

“In that… form, I guess, she doesn’t really have a voice as we understand it,” He shifts slightly and leans forward, “Well, they do and they don’t. When we heard her ‘speak’ what did you hear?”

Eddie sighs and grabs the bottle from Steve. “I-I’m not sure,” He relents. “I felt this thing, like a vibration in my chest but I also heard something. Kinda soft, but strong?”

As he explains, Steve nods. “Yes, that’s how it is for me,” He ignores the fact that Munson can hear you as he can, for now. “From what I can tell, humans have adverse reactions to encountering the divine. Crying isn’t uncommon. And you threw up. Their arrival also brings about a natural feeling of supplication: falling to your knees and stuff.”

Eddie remains quiet and stoic as they take turns passing the bottle back and forth.

“How did you know?” He asks softly, concentrating on the amber liquid, “I mean, you’ve known for how long?”

Steve shifts uncomfortably.

“He saw me meditating,” a familiar voice supplies, low and husky from disuse.

Eddie jumps off the floor, out of his skin nearly, wheezing out a “Jesus Christ,” under his breath and brings the back of his closed fist to his lips. He turns, unable to settle his eyes at where you currently laze on the couch.

Two pairs of eyes fall to the form who can now speak. “Well,” You acquiesce, “Meditating is an unfortunate word for what transpired, nearly gave Steve a panic attack I’m sure.”

He smiles and huffs a laugh. “So that’s what that was,” He says, taking a step toward you. “How you feelin’?”

Eddie, having taken in the fact that he’s in front of a bonafide heavenly body, averts his gaze and busies himself with another drink. “So you’re an…” He trails off again.

“An angel,” Steve affirms, eyes not leaving yours.

A cock of your head, “In a general sense, yes.” A roll of the shoulder, flutter of wings.

And with that admission, Eddie killed the rest of the bottle.

Be not afraid, indeed.

You lie low for the next few days, regaining your strength, readjusting to the advent of visible wings.

Eddie ran back home to grab a bag of clothes and to let Wayne know he’d be at Steve’s for the time being. Meanwhile, Steve had tried to warn off the kids and Robin from dropping by, and made up some excuse about having the flu.

Things were quiet.

Steve made sure you were comfortable upstairs and hovered around anxiously, while Eddie remained jumpy and kept his distance.

It hurt and you tried to be brave about it.

More often than they knew, you could overhear Steve’s furtive whispers to Eddie about how nothing had really changed all that much. You were still the same as you’d ever been.

”She could literally kill us, Steve.”

You crouched at the top of the stairs, hidden by the balcony rail as they talked downstairs.

”Don’t be like that man.”

”Like what?” Eddie laughs despite himself, “Realistic? God-fearing? Did you even pay attention in Sunday school?”

”Uh, not really no.”

Eddie sets something down on the table with a bit more force than he’d intended.

”When God wants something done, a punishment doled out or a message sent, d’you know who does His bidding?”

”Angels.”

”Right. And everyone knows the most famous of them all.”

”Are you—“ Steve stops short, seeing a streak of gray on the upper floor. “She’s not the Angel of Death, Eddie. For fuck’s sake!”

”Yeah?” He volleys back, incredulous. “And how are we supposed to know that?”

”Because we know her.” Steve rises from his chair and makes his way out of the room. “She would never do anything to hurt us.”

”How can you be so sure?”

”I just—“ Steve pauses on the staircase, head turned back to face Eddie, hand gripping the railing hard enough to turn his knuckles white. “I can’t explain it man, I just know.”

”Well I don’t.”

A flapping sound, like a whoosh of air distracts them.

Two pairs of eyes, one whiskey-warm, and the other flecked with glimmers of gold and green follow your bumbling footfalls up the stairs, and out of sight.

They turn to each other in the inky blue, and maybe it begins there.

Steve knocked softly on the door as it creaked open, leaving you little time to quell your tear-stained cheeks. Doing your best to wipe them away, you make room for him on the bed.

Sitting at your side, he wastes no time in winding an arm around your hips and pulling you into his lap. Your wings retract ever so slightly, relaxing bit by bit into his grasp.

”Hi,” Steve’s voice had dropped into a low whisper, his thumb worrying along your hip.

A tingle runs down your spine and fans out across your wings and making your body tremble.

”Miss me?”

Your head drops to the juncture of his neck and shoulder, you can feel the tendons flex as he swallows.

”Not just you.”

”Give it some time,” He sighs, “This is new for him.”

His hands fall to rest on your hips before sliding slowly to the small of your back. His fingers caress their way up and down your back.

Shivering, you sit up and rest your head against his. Steve’s lips brush against yours lightly.

“I can hide them.”

”The wings?”

”Yeah, just glamour them like I have been.”

”Honey,” He sighs, breath ghosting along your lips. “I don’t think that—“

”Then what will Steve?” A laugh escapes you. “What can I do to get him back?”

”Eddie didn’t leave,” Steve points out. “For all his… concerns, he’s still here. That has to mean something, right?”

You shift in his lap, his lips grazing along your neck.

”Besides,” He says, voice soft, hands inching up your spine. “They like me.”

He nips at your ear and you lurch forward in a shudder, wings arching as tension coils in your body.

In all your years, you’d never met anyone as unflappable as Steve.

He was consistent, reliable, and easygoing.

But he was also insatiable.

”Okay,” You acquiesce, “That may be true.”

Steve’s fingers brushed ever so lightly along the base of your wings, sending a shudder straight through you.

Emitting a low whimper you move to draw back, to distance yourself because it shouldn’t feel like this, so wildly arousing.

”C’mon angel,” He cajoles, “It’ll help you relax.”

”Yeah?”

He presses a kiss to your temple, fingers tracing gently along the delicate bones and plumage, “Promise.”

A warm heat was gathering in your pelvis from his ministrations. It felt odd to have someone touch a part of you that none other had before. Odd, but not unpleasant.

”We’ll go slow.” His fingers brushed a spot that sent your back into an arch, your hips flush against his own, a gasp falling from your mouth.

Just outside the door, in the shadow of the hallway, Eddie can smell it in the air. A musky salty tang wafting through the air and into his lungs that ignites the kindling of his want.

His eyes ran up and down taking in the scene. The flush of Steve’s face and the sweat beading along your skin, illuminated by a warm yellow glow from the lamp on the side table. Eddie looks at you with a curious expression on his face.

Steve spots him as Eddie enters the room and shuts the door with a soft click. You turn suddenly in his grasp only to see that Eddie has recovered from his former shock and trepidation.

He can see your bare back flanked by gray wings fluttering every so often as Steve drags his finger along them. He’s managed to sidle his way within arms reach, expression growing more intent with each step.

A thrilled shiver slides down your spine at his approach, and you fail to suppress it as Steve kisses you hungrily. Eddie tries to swallow the feeling away but it catches in his throat.

You’re straddling Steve’s thigh and moving against it in slow winding orbits. The underwear sitting at your hips does nothing to keep the arousal smeared between your legs at bay.

Steve only pulls back as you're nearly gasping for air, trailing hungry kisses down your neck and jaw. Eddie’s eyes drop to the gleam at Steve’s thigh, how your slickness catches the dim light.

He’d watched you go earlier, cursing his stupid mouth as Steve trailed after you, feeling guilty and shitty for upsetting you.

It wasn’t worth it, he’d decided not long after. Given a choice between having you or losing you, there was no contest— he’d choose you every time.

Eddie shucks his clothes as he crosses to the bed, dropping his shirt, belt, and pants off haphazardly. Each step feels impossible, like quicksand, but he pushes through the heaviness of the room.

Facing him, your face is a mask of confusion, pleasure, and elation. He can see the exact moment that you relax, slumping slightly against Steve as he holds you upright, one hand extended toward him.

”E-Eddie?” His name falls like a tumble from your kiss-bitten lips. There’s a split second of modesty when you realize the state you’re in and move to cover yourself before Steve distracts you by nipping at the curve of your shoulder.

”Figure it out?” He mumbles with a pointedly raised brow in Eddie’s direction.

In lieu of response, Eddie simply lets you tug him down onto the bed before settling at your right, hand curling around your waist. He’s already rock hard, in awe as he watches you arch and shudder under Steve’s hands, hips winding slow against his thigh.

Your brain is positively spinning. Between Steve’s mouth biting and sucking along your neck and Eddie’s hand guiding your hips, you’re about to lose it completely.

Eddie marvels at how lightly Steve works his fingers against your wings, brushing along the undersides of delicate bones and soft feathers. Tentatively, he brings his free hand to the wing closest to him, a single finger stroking downward.

Your eyes nearly cross at his touch and you make an undignified noise lurching toward Steve with such a force that he falls back on the mattress. He grips your hips and moves you from his leg as Eddie’s breath ghosts along your neck. You’re turned around to face him, Steve pressing your back to his chest, the wings trapped between you.

”Hi baby,” Eddie’s husky voice sails into your ear.

You feel so small between them, impossibly so. Vulnerable and exposed in your skin. Steve bites down on your shoulder, and you nearly forget your own name. Too invested in Eddie edging closer to you. His hand trails up your wing in such a way that sends a spasm through your entire body.

A low, throaty moan slips up and out of your mouth as you push yourself and grip his shoulders. He turns his head enough for your lips to brush, his breath fanning out against your skin. His nose brushes yours as your lips descend, his mouth falling open in a harsh gasp.

Kissing Eddie is like coming home.

Warm and sweet, slow like honey.

”You,” He says pulling away, eyes so blown they’re nearly black, “Are the best thing. You’re amazing.”

Steve’s hand squeezes at your hip as your head drops back against him. The tip of Eddie’s tongue traces up your sternum before dropping a kiss at the hollow of your throat.

”Stop,” you say, “That’s not—“

Steve shushes you with a kiss to the top of your spine. “Listen to him angel.”

Deft fingers brush back your hair beginning the frizz in the heat.

“I know this thing between us,” He glances to Steve and back to you, “It’s … unconventional.” Eddie’s finger traces your cheekbones lightly. “And we’re doing our level best not to fuck it all up.”

From behind you, Steve nods in agreeance. His jaw grazing the nape of your neck, fingers trailing at the sensitive underside of your wings.

”And there’s been something we’ve been meaning to tell you for a while now.”

Your fingers still along the band of his boxers, his stomach muscles contract in anticipation.

“We love you,” He whispers, lips kicking up in a smile. “Every single part.”

”And we’ve got you.” Steve adds with a squeeze to your hips.

”That is, if you’ll have us.”

The simple admission lights a fire in your chest as you surge toward Eddie, teeth clacking against his in your rush to get your mouth on him. Steve’s accompanying laughter is a comfort at your back, his hands a welcome anchor at your hips.

There’s a slight pressure at your ring finger, a soft hum in the air as a thin red thread, nearly imperceptible, stitches the three of you together— a fool, a hanged man, and justice.

Eddie’s not sure if he believes in God now, or ever really did, but he believes in this. Thinks that if he had to choose and do it all over again he would, every single time.

But that’s the funny thing about fate, isn’t it?

It’s a relief, knowing that it’s all come down to this.

The soft morning light falls against your skin, warmed with fading vestiges of the autumn sun. Crisp white sheets tangled beneath your legs, a smattering of skin exposed; it was sweet, this tender sensation of thrumming in his veins.

Eddie’s staring.

Committing this moment to memory for the rest of his days; your face bathed in shafts of light relaxed in slumber, body sated warm twisted in an impossible position. His finger traces the knobs of your spine, a gossamer touch barely perceptible; you snuffle briefly and sigh against the pillow.

Steve rouses not long after, a tanned forearm thrown haphazardly over your exposed hip and blinks blearily.

Outlining the faded marks against your back Eddie’s body curls closer to you— three waxing crescents in the golden haze of morning. Steve rubs his thumb against the jut of bone at your hip, he knows nothing of divinity, but he hopes it’s something akin to this: sun-warmed, sweet, and pliable.

A lot like you.

You’re half-asleep, or so it would seem. But you gaze at them now coquettishly from beneath your lashes, all mischief and love— peering at him like a sunbeam through stained glass. Glorious in your benevolence, full of color and life.

This is why they would return to you, time and time again.

Self-admittedly, they know nothing of piety or faith, but they do know this: the slow smile of your pretty lips, dextrous fingers falling from the sheets to reach for them, and the desire to slip beneath your skin to the heart knocking in your chest—

That is devotion.

Sacred.

Holy.

[genderlesssinner]

Here we go again

What's Sam got for us tonight

(I forgot they were in VM seating and I was startled by Sam being on the left side of the screen)

I... Hate everything about it, thanks Sam

CRITMAS! Does anyone else miss the fanmail opening streams?

If Tusk Love isn't the absolute trashiest booktok romance garbage I'll be sad

Yeah guys. Make more smut

The Fjordjester wedding! Ugh, I'm sad the live shows are all so far away from me

Alright, episode 114!

Oooh boy okay here we go

I love this map but also holy fuck please don't die guys

OOOH GROG GETTING BIG time to fuck shit uppp

Find the Vax Marble ladies, pls

Uh huh, this group has never done anything out of order nor gotten fucked over for it 🤣

Perc'ahlia really does have a fuck ton of range, don't they

I love Percy. This is why he's the mad tinkerer.

These guys can really do so fucken much it's insane

Yaaasss Nat 20 bbgirl!

We won! 🤣

"I'm guessing because the dnd beyond went down" poor ash

Yeah, no surprise Percy is up first

No Mercy Percy, get em

Oh no he's really mad

Aaand of course Bad News misfires

Alright Vex, kick his ass.

Not yet. Hate that, thanks

A BIGGER VIDULCH? OH HELL NAW

And of course it has a rider, fuck all of that

Scrag is fucking massive no thanks

Thank the fucken gods for disadvantage, ewww. 5 fucken attacks

Ffuuuuucckkk this bitch

I'm just 🤞🤞🤞🤞🤞🤞

Fuck that tower

What do your horse eyes see, Scanlan?

I just notices Liam's shirt guys. It says Crows before bros. I can't with this man.

Oohhhh that's the Sunder King,, oh shit.

Thank fucking god for that disadvantage on everything. That's 2 crits cut off.

Oh nuh uh hate that 'I want to feast too' ugh

Yeah I had a feeling there would be worms. I hate it so much. Looks cool as fuck but no thanks.

"you think we're better than we are, Matt" mood though

"that's what the nuns told me sex is like" LIAM

THIS FUCKING THING JUST ALMOST ATE AN ENLARGED HALF GIANT. FUCK ALL THAT.

fucking nerds. Liam hyping Robbie up 😍😍

(points to that post about how Sam may be Liam's work husband but Robbie is his boyfriend)

Oh fuck no the big one can fly,,, ugh

Oh well. I hate that, legendary action to let his beasties make an attack

Oh no okay well. It just ate Grog. Hate it, but I'm hoping Grogory will do his thing and burst out of it

Oh it's perfect that this fucker fell off the stairs, love it

Oh not Liev'tel, come on

Oh fuck all that disadvantage is gone

"we're not gonna let you die!"

"this time!" LIAM. SIR.

(just saw runtime in live chat, another 5hr ep! Holy shit.)

I love Percy's naming of all of his weapons. So good. Graythorn the swordcanegun

Wonderful time for dnd beyond to shit out on them

Nooo Veeeexxxxx not Trinket!!!

If the bear dies I'm gonna cry yall

Earthquake. Well. This should be good

The damn vidulch is prone, nice

And Liev'tel doing her life steal shit, nice nice nice

Ah shit more fuckers

Oh fuck me that forced nose dive, oouwchie

Son of a bitch Liam. Fucking divine intervention. I'm gonna cry, aren't I.

Okay okay the beacon is exposed. Get up there guys.

Travis is far too excited about being swallowed by this fucken worm.

Get'em Grogory

A fucken crit while in frenzy. Geeettt iiitttt.

Over 100 damage in 3 hits man. Fuck yeah.

"Oh look, it failed." 🤣

I love Grog. I love barbarians, man.

"How little attention do you pay to him as you cut him in half?"

Thank you for abandoning that - never mind. It got worse.

Ooohhhh shit Scanlan getting a peak at the fucking Beacon Vision, cool

The bridge is fucking down guys.

The leylines trying to return to normal. The moon returning to its orbit. Holy shit. Okay.

Break time! Get a drink, snacks, and go to the bathroom! Holy shit yall.

[poraphia]

"Once A Soot, Always A Soot."

Chapter 04 of "If You Look At Me, I'll Listen To You."

➵ PAIRING! clinic!villain!wilbur x hero!reader

➵ CREATING! 12.26.23 | 4103 words

➵ CONTAINING! the origin of how wilbur and reader met, child neglection, lovers to strangers angst, tommy being a clueless little soul

➵ SAYING! holy shit it actually pained me to write the last couple sentences of the chapter. i had so much fun writing this i immediately started working on chapter 6, and im also on the works of making the origin story of how they started dating so that’s going to be super fun :) message me if you’d like to be on my taglist for this series!

My masterlist :)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

“You never told me you had a lifelong best friend!”

We both smiled, but Wil and I could see it in each others eyes.

It was much, much more than that..

“Wilbur..?”

My mind was racing a thousand thoughts, but all of them screamed the same coherent thought. My eyes lingered on that white streak in his hair. The same hair streak I saw when Siren was sitting right up close to me.

It was all the same.

The same jawline.

The same mop of hair.

The same sleek body shape.

It was all there and right in front of me.

“Hey.. Uh, didn’t expect to see you out so late.” Wil chuckled as he scratched the back of his neck. “Were you just heading in? Y’know the shop is closing in like an hour.”

Quick, think of an excuse.

“Oh, um— yeah. I had a late night and was just in the area so I— I decided to go here.” I stuttered out. Though it was messy explaining, it was believable. Wil stood there, seemingly a bit nervous as his hands wrapped around the strap of his bag.

“Ah, yeah, I get those too..”

The tension was thick and awkward. If I wanted to break out of this thoroughly, I’d have to go with my lie. Which also meant another minute with Wilbur.

Or shall I say—

Siren.

“I-I’ll be going in now..” I muttered.

“Oh— yeah, hold on let me get the door for you.” Wil jogged to the door before I could get there to hold the door generously. I muttered a quick thank you before being met with the familiar chimes of the cafe. There behind the counter was Tommy, who was just cleaning the counter.

Audibly, I could hear a groan erupt from Tom’s throat before I approached the counter. “Welcome to Puffy’s Cloudy Cafe what can I—” Tom turned around only to be met with my nervous expression and Wilbur behind me. “..Started for you. Hey, (y/n). What’re you..” He seemed to be trailing off as he maintained eye contact with the man behind me. He decided not to ask any questions.

“I’ll just have a flat white with two shots of espresso.” I dug into my bag and slid over $10 bucks. “Please.” Tommy nodded before taking the bill and stuffing it into the register. He proceeded to make my drink as I nervously moved side to side.

It felt like my heart was skipping beats. I thought these circumstances couldn’t get any worse. My childhood best friend, my first love, my ex, they’re all siren?! The dangerous man I see on the news near 24/7 terrorizing the city as he simply watches with a smirk on his face. It was all too overbearing to even think about.

“(y/n)?” Tommy snapped me out of my thoughts. I shook my head, realizing I was still at the counter.

“Thanks, Tom.” I hastily grabbed the cup of coffee before taking a seat. I took a minute to myself, just sitting there with no type of expression on my face. All of these thoughts, connections, drawn out lines, they were all finally aligning, and it was as if just like that..

I figured out the dynamic of the syndicate.

I rushed to open my phone, and as if my thumbs had a mind of their own, I began to jot down every thought that ran across my mind. I didn’t let one bit of information be forgotten. Everything was going to be written down and stored in my phone, and God forbid anybody knows this information until it was ready for the world.

In a way I felt like I betrayed the hero society and all of L’manburg, knowing that I’ve dated the one and only Siren. And not only that, I’ve been associated, with the founder of the Syndicate.

That’s right.

If Wilbur is Siren, then it would be a god damn miracle if Phil and Techno weren’t associated with the Syndicate.

I haven’t seen Phil and Techno in years as well, but based on what I knew growing up, whenever Wilbur, Techno, and I would play, Techno would always be training or practicing with blades. He was nothing but a God at swordsmanship.

Blades.

If Wilbur was Siren, then Techno had to be Blade! That would explain the dynamic between Blade and Siren whenever on the battlefield. They argued like brothers because they are brothers. Shit, there’s no way I’m figuring all of this shit out?!

My hand covered half of my face, and I almost had to stop myself from bursting out laughing. I was going insane because of this realization, and I wasn’t sure how much more I could take before this would drive me to the edge.

I couldn’t help but think about the past when I would spend nights sometimes at the Soot household. I remember the little lectures Phil would give Wilbur and me to keep the door open and if I was going to sleepover then Wil would have to sleep on the floor and I would sleep on the bed. That rule didn’t last long though. By the third time I was spending nights at their house, Phil would quietly creak open the door only to see Wil and I’s limbs tangled around each other like inseparable vines.

But these.. People.. Can’t be murderers. Can they..?

They raised me. They helped me understand the world better than any of my relatives could. They took me to the diner where I could eat tasty muffins— Hell, they were my family! But to be the leading members of the syndicate.. I..

“(y/n)? Are you okay?!”

The last thing I remember was clicking my phone off before dropping to the ground.

.

“Tommy, are you sure they’re going to be alright?!”

“Yes, Wil, stop being such a baby.”

Fuck.. What happened..?

My eyes fluttered open, only to meet the blaring ceiling lights flooding my vision. My back ached from lying on the stiff tile floor with only a towel to shield me from the dirty marble. My throat felt dry and my head was pounding.

“Where..” I rubbed my head as I used all of my strength to hoist myself up. “Where am I..?” I muttered hoarsely. Wilbur and Tom whipped their heads around, immediately their attention was on me.

“(y/n), fuck! You’re okay!” Wil cried. He was about to lunge at me for a hug, but the moment he raised his arms I flinched, making him back down on his actions immediately. His smile quickly faded before he glanced at Tom, who only thinned his lips in response. I looked at the two of them, a little uncomfortable at my given position now. Tommy was the first to speak up after the uncomfortable silence.

“You’re in Puffy’s Cafe right now. You fainted suddenly and you’ve been out for thirty minutes.” Tommy explained. “Are you okay?” I blinked a few times, and almost at an instant, all my memories came back.

The Soot family..

Fuck..

“Y-Yeah..” I lied through gritted teeth. “Yeah.. I’m just a little overworked I guess.” I looked down shielded my eyes from the light. I couldn’t stand to look at them anymore. Could I even trust them..? Be even in the presence of them, especially Wilbur?! I took a deep breath, biting my tongue before I could say anything I could regret. “I-I need to head home soon.. What time is it?” I asked. I watched Wil’s hand move to check his watch.

“..It’s around 11pm, which is like 30 minutes after closing.” Wilbur looked at me worriedly. “It’s dangerous to be out this late.”

“I-I live in West End which is like two hours from here..” I muttered. I could only imagine Wil’s eyebrows furrowed.

“Well that’s damn far..” Tommy thought to himself. “How about they stay at our place, eh?”

Immediately my head perked up, and I’m sure the expression of shock wasn’t hard to notice. The same expression reflected on Wilbur as well as we both stared at a blank faced Tommy.

“What?” Tom said. “You guys know each other, don’t you?” He sounded so clueless to Wil and I’s given relationship, I could almost feel bad for the boy. Wil and I looked at each other in confusion and distraught.

“I.. Uh..” Wilbur muttered. I could see he was regretting some choices as he frantically looked at me. His eyes were split between “Please ignore this dumb child” and “I’m embarrassing myself right now just being this close to you.”

“I guess I could stay.” I replied, blankly.

“What?” Wilbur said.

‘what’ was the right reaction, because what was I even saying?! Staying over at the Soots when I barely just realized that they are the Syndicate?! Maybe I was still dazed or hit my head too hard after I knocked out because honestly what the fuck was I even doing here being surrounded by.. By them?!

“Y-yeah..” I stuttered out. “I could stay. Plus it’s like what Tom said—” I turned over to look at Wilbur. “It wouldn’t be the first time.”

Wilbur looked like he was about to go on a rampage of words, but at the same, his throat prevented him from any sound coming out. So instead, he was stuck in this awkward pose of almost saying something but then saying nothing at all. Tom just shrugged before standing up.

“Well that makes things easier doesn’t it? Will doesn’t have to stress so much, and (y/n) can be somewhere safe for the night.” He said, dusting his hands off.

Yeah.. “safe.”

I stood up as well, removing the towel from the floor and handing the fabric to Tommy. Wil was still in shock. sitting as he stared blankly at the floor. “The house is just a train ride away, so it shouldn’t take so long. Maybe twenty minutes at max.” Tommy explained. “I’m going to put this away and lock up shop.” And with that, Tommy left Wil and I together .

Alone.

Siren

and me.

Wilbur stood up, brushing off his pants before looking at me. His glasses glistened under the beaming ceiling light, and his sleeves were rolled back to his elbows. He didn’t stand up straight, instead he had this sort of hunch posture, and was too mesmerized to correct it. I looked down, shifting my weight from left to right as we awkwardly stood in front of each other.

“So, uh..” I spoke. “How have you been?”

“I’ve been uh..” Wilbur scratched his head. “—Good. I’ve been doing good.”

Wow, this was extremely uncomfortable. As much as that clueless, gremlin child didn’t serve much of a purpose for me, right now would be a great time to come back.

“You look.. Really beautiful, by the way.” Wilbur quickly uttered out. I swiftly looked up, taken a little aback at his compliment. “I mean uh—! You look nice, (y/n)! You look.. Uh..” His face became a red mess. To save himself from anymore embarrassment he covered his hands with his lengthy fingers and looked away.

If I didn’t know any better, I wouldn’t believe this man was the same person that has killed thousands of people, much less a few dozen right in front of me.

Tommy returned from the backroom, holding the keys to the establishment. “Alright, you two,” he announced. “Let’s go.”

We all exited out of the building in silence with Tommy being the last so that he could lock the door closed. The three of us treaded in near silence with the midnight crickets and the hum of the streetlights to keep us company. Tommy walked between Wilbur and I, serving as our saving grace from anymore awkward tension. That was until Tommy started to ask questions about me.

“So, (y/n)..” Tommy dragged out.

“Yes, Tom?” I responded. I kept my head straight forward as we spoke.

“How do you know my buddy Wilbur over here? Since y’know, he decided not to tell me anything about y— ow!” Tommy was interrupted by a harsh shove served by Wil.

“Well I uh..” I peeked over to look at Wilbur, who still had that embarrassed look on his face. Only he looked more upset at Tommy than anything. His cheeks were still pink from the previous flush. “I-I’m comfortable telling the story, but only if Wil is.” I clarified. Tommy’s interest immediately turned toward me, no longer annoyed by Wilbur’s silent bullying. Wilbur perked his head up as well, his expression softening.

“I.. I’m okay with it.” Wil finally mumbled. I smiled a little before turning back to face forward.

“Then I guess we should start with how we met.”

I was 12 when I moved to South Bay with my aunt and uncle. After my family had suffered a tragic fate, I was given the choice to either live within the foster system or to reside with my closest relatives. Obviously, I chose my relatives. Though they were smiles and light-hearted jokes on the outside, they couldn’t care less that I was someone living under their roof. I was always given the leftover portions of their meals and never had anything to myself, but if I were to, it would’ve been a hand-me-down older than me or something they saw as useless. I was blessed enough to even have my own room, but even then, it felt so alone and cold.

After I turned 13 I thought of myself as “grown,” so I would often leave the house without telling my uncle or aunt, but even then, it was like they didn’t even care. I wasn’t lectured, I wasn’t taught any differently, I was simply just an accessory to the house. I remember vividly I wandered around the neighborhood as the sun was staring to set, and the streets were starting to quiet down. I wanted to spend that evening at the nearby park, swinging as I watched the sky turn orange and red.

When I made it to the park, there was only one family there. It was a father, and two boys who looked about the same age. Though neither of them look related in the slightest, they were close and bonded together as if they were. A panging feeling in my chest kind of stuck with me at the sight of them— a family so close together despite not being blood relative. And here I was, freely exploring the world with no parents to worry about me at home. Though it sounded like a damn blessing to other kids my age, I’ve never felt so.. Isolated.

I did my best to avoid where the family was and made a B-line to the swings. The two boys were playing around on the jungle gym as the man watched with a content smile on his face. I tried my best to ignore the sight, and instead focus on the sky, glowing in such warm colors.

I rocked back and forth, trying to swing as high as I can. Every time I would swing, my goal was to be able to touch the sky. A childish dream I had.

“Dad, who is that?” one of the boys asked while tugging at his father's sleeve.

The man looked over, a little surprised to see me. I pretended not to notice them talking about me and proceeded with my swinging.

“Hm, I don't know, Wil,” the dad said. I learned that the boy asking about me was named Wil.

“Can I play with them..?” he asked. Immediately I stopped swinging, dragging my feet into the mulch and looking at them. I don't know if I was scared, surprised, or excited that someone had finally noticed me. I'm sure the man saw the mix of feelings in my eyes too.

The man leaned down and talked softly to Wil before he nodded. Wil then walked toward me, and immediately I was freezing up. I gripped onto the swing chains tight as I could only watch in fear. Once Wil was in front of me, he smiled.

“Hi,” he greeted. “My name is Wilbur. What's your name?”

“(y-y/n)..” I stuttered. Wilbur nodded before pointing at the swing next to me.

“Can I swing with you?” he asked. It was an innocent offer, but something about it made me tear up. It was the first time anybody wanted to play with me.

“O-okay..” I nodded. “Do you want to know the game I'm playing?” I quietly asked. Wil nodded eagerly before hopping onto the swing.

Once I explained the game to him, we were having the time of our lives, swinging through the breezes while reaching our little hands to the sky. We were giggling, making it a little competition to see who could swinging the highest. And even when the sunset disappeared we were still reaching for the stars, and it took some lecturing from, who I learned to be, Phil, to get Wil finally off the swings.

“Where are your parents, little one?” Phil asked.

“I.. Um..” I fumbled for some sort of excuse. “My parents are here! They're just.. Shopping right now.” I pointed to the town just across the playground. “There.”

Though it looked as if Phil didn't buy it, he simply nodded, and wished me a goodnight and safety.

After that, it began routine to meet Wil at the playground with his family. We would make up games together and run around. Or sometimes, Wil and I would hide under the jungle gym and talk of stories and dreams. One day, I decided to have a private conversation with Phil on my living circumstances, ultimately asking if I could stay over at their place every once in a while. Phil being the caring man he is, agreed, which led to sleepovers and finally finding safety and comfort within a family.

Bringing myself back to the present, I sighed and looked over towards Wil and Tommy. Wil had a nostalgic smile on his face, as if he was also reliving those memories with me. Tom on the other hand, had a face of curiosity and surprise. Tom turned over to Wil and playfully nudged him on the shoulder.

“You never told me you have a lifelong best friend!” Tom exclaimed. Wil chuckled before ruffling the boy's hair.

“Well.. I mean yeah..” he sighed. Wil and I looked at each other. We both knew it was so much more than that.

We had finally made it the house. As it stood in all it's glory, it looked no different from what I remember. Tom and I walked inside as Wil locked the door behind us. It was definitely refurnished to match the wealth of their family.

Another clue as to them being the Syndicate.

Regardless, I took my shoes off and hung up my jacket. I turned to look at Wil, who looked like was thinking about something.

“Wilbur?” I called out. He shook his head and looked at me.

“S-sorry.. I was just thinking about where you're going to sleep. When Tom moved in he took the guest room— and I feel like it would be rude if I made you sleep in the living room—” Wil began to ramble but then paused before exhaling. He clasped his hands together and looked at me. “Are you.. Okay with sleeping in my room—? Not that I'll be in the room with you! I could sleep in the living room or with Tom or something..”

Wilbur's room..?

A jumble of memories began to flash all at once, and I was starting to feel lightheaded again. I quickly shook out of my thoughts before looking at Wil.

“Y-yeah.. Sure..” I replied softly. Tom had already headed upstairs for bed. I trailed behind Wil as he led me upstairs to his room, which if anything, I could've located on my own based on muscle memory.

Wilbur creaked the door open, and if anything, it was all exactly the same. A pile of clothes in one corner, a desk littered with papers with scribbled writing, and a guitar on the bedside.

“Wow,” I said out loud. Wil turned to look at me with slightly raised eyebrow. “it's almost as how I remember it..”

“Ah.. Yeah..” Wil nodded. He walked in and started to go through his drawers, fetching some spare clothes for me to wear. I circled around the room examining any crevice. I knew this was my opportunity to seize new evidence, but that child in me refused, and only wished for me to enjoy the moment.

“Here.” Wil handed me a pair of folded up sweats and a shirt for me to wear. After further examination, I realized that these were the pajamas I would often wear when coming over to their place back then: Wilbur's dark gray sweatpants and a large black graphic tee of our favorite anime.

“..Thank you.” I said to Wil. I looked up to face him. A melancholy smile rested on his face as that small tint of pink rested on his cheekbones. His brown eyes, though we were in a dimmed room, sparkled a bit with sincerity.

“Of course uh..” He stood there for a minute, staring at me, before he cleared his throat and headed out the door. “If you need me, I’ll be in Tom’s room which is just the next room to the left, okay?” He held onto the doorknob. “Goodnight, (y/n).”

“..Goodnight, Wilbur.” I replied, softly. He gave me one last look before closing the door shut.

I stood there with Wilbur’s clothes still in my hands.

My heart was pounding, and if anything, the room felt stuffy despite the A/C in Wil’s room being at a cool 69 degrees. I felt the butterflies fluttering in my stomach, and all they wanted was to escape far and away. I wasn’t sure if I was flustered or anxious being in this room again. Whatever it was, I desperately needed to pull myself together.

Siren is Wilbur.

And Wilbur is Siren.

But Wilbur also gave me these soft clothes to wear whenever I was too scared to sleep by myself.

And Wilbur, despite our final argument before we separated, still kept the clothes after all these years. I sighed before changing out of my clothes. As I did, I noticed that the more I looked around, there were still bits of me still left in his room.

On the wall, there was a band poster we got for free after a concert we went to together. On his nightstand was an action figure I bought for his birthday, and scattered around the room, there were small house plants I got for him throughout the years. After I fitted into the sweatpants perfectly, I walked over to his desk. In a little box there were pieces of ripped paper and different colored sticky notes. Curiously, I picked one of them up.

That's when my heart stopped.

Without realizing, tears were starting to form in my eyes, near clouding up my vision. My chest ached and my throat tightened up, as if my whole body was forcing down a loud sob.

“I love you, my honey voice :)” was written in my handwriting. On the next line was written in Wilbur’s handwriting.

“I love you more, my beautiful star.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

a / n ~ ouch the bittersweet angst was STINGING. notes of all kind are super duper appreciated! I am actually in love with this series, so its exciting to see other people also in love with the story :) spoiler for next chapter-- DELUSION AND SIREN ARE FINALLY FIGHTING RAGHHH

tagging ~ @listenheresweaty @joviepog @missy1138 @heartofwritiing @tiredandbisexual @themonsterunderurmom @ax-y10 @itstumblerwhyareyouangry @virusalex @meowm30ws

[bronx-bomber87]

Happy Wednesday Fandom. We’ve reached THE episode. Sorry little later than usual. Life didn't understand I had a review to do ha I remember not knowing what this ep would quite be. When it was done I had to pick my jaw off the floor. I was in utter shock and felt like a fever dream I was watching. Like did that really just happen? Was that real life? It’s was so exciting to have the payoff.

Even if it felt like it wasn’t real LOL Did my damn best to get everything in. I feel like I’ve become really good at this gif puzzle but eps like this really pushes me to the limit ha. God bless the gif website I found or I would be screwed haha Let’s get this started :)

5x08 The Collar

Aaron wants to shadow Angela and Harper today. He is looking into being a detective someday. So Grey re-assigns him to them and Lucy to Tim. Telling her she’s back on gopher duty. They could not be MORE suspicious or obvious if they tried my god. You know Grey knows his question about riding together is making them more uncomfortable. It's hilarious really. Trying to get them to out themselves. Instead they’re just little awko tacos staring at each other bumbling around.

He knows they’re lying with their 'No's' But he also doesn’t care. LOL They’re riding together whether they like it or not. It's amazing with their lives on the line with UC their ability to lie is amazing. Flawless really. Having to deal with their still weirdness and not show it? Abysmal. Such bad liars in this scene holy hell. The amount of awkward in this 30 seconds floors me.

From the minute Grey suggests they ride together they’re awkward dorks. Ones who don’t know complete sentences or words. This scene says so much with saying so little at the same time . There’s a reason they’ve stayed away from each other. This moment right here. They’re so very aware if they are back in a shop together everything they’ve been avoiding will come rushing back. Such a strong start to the ep for them though. Enjoyed their discomfort so much ha

We start out with them in the shop being awkward af. I loved the shots in this one and their opening one is great. With the cams coming to life and their day starting. Lucy of course is the first the break the silence. Asking him how single life is? He tells her really nice. How he didn’t have to deal with anyone complaining about him watching football all day.

Lucy giving him crap of course about never leaving the house. Things maybe weird between them but their comfortable banter hasn’t suffered. They fall right back into it with this scene. That married energy they have coming right back into play here. Gah they just balance each other out so well it’s insane. Haven’t had a couple this in-sync since Caskett on Castle.

I love him being a hermit though. He earned it after Ashley. He did whatever she damn well pleased for months. You stay home and watch your football babe. You earned it after that disaster of a relationship. Tim does defend himself a little saying he took Kojo out LOL I consider that going out too when I’m needing a hermit day. I'm with you on this Tim.

I love the affectionate way Lucy says he’s hopeless. That’s the beautiful thing about Lucy for Tim. Yeah she gives him crap but she fully loves that man for who he is. She would spend a day being a hermit with him just because it made him happy. D just wrote an amazing fic on that concept actually. (You should read it so so good) Lucy loving and accepting him for who he is and not condemning him for it. Yeah she’s teasing him for being ‘hopeless’ when really she is so fond of who he is as a person. Loves that man inside and out. You can see the adoration on her face when she delivers that line.

Just love the idea of them having lazy Sundays together now. Lucy indulging his hermit ways when he needs it. No doubt Tim indulges when she wants to be out. Because their partnership is a balanced one. Gah I love them. Chris FaceTimes her and Tim looks over and makes a face LOL god damn I love this man. Chris asks her if she’s busy? She says no…but seems not at ease with this phone call. Lucy asks where he is? He tells her an open house…They could not be more opposites in this moment. They spoke earlier about moving in and Chris jumped the gun to houses. Sprinting toward a future she doesn't want.

Lucy wasn't even on board for moving in...She is looking so very panicked. He’s going on about how it needs work but is 3 bedrooms. Tim’s interest now has been piqued and it’s stressing Lucy out for a couple reasons. She is no where near ready for this step and he’s gunning to a house. Second Tim can overhear this adding another level of stress. She doesn’t want Tim to think they are there. Because well they aren’t….Lucy cuts the phone call off abruptly. Asks if they can talk later? Chris being the clueless oaf he is doesn’t pick up on her stress at all. He says 'love you' and she says nothing in reply just ends the damn call LOL

Tim asks if they’re moving together? Lucy looks even more distressed after the phone call. Her body language screaming she’s being dragged into this situation. Kicking and screaming really. Lucy tells him no…Tim follows up with ‘He seems to think you are…’ Lucy is having a panic attack right now when he says that. The way she puts her hand on her chest. Trying to relieve the building pressure of this whole thing. Now there’s a girl ready to move in with her BF…. She seems so rattled the entire conversation with Tim.

Lucy continues on that he kind of sprang it on her this morning. He can read her discomfort like a book. So he continues his line of questioning. Which is unreal because you know the shop is a personal life free zone right Timothy? The fact that he’s the one pursuing this conversation. Being the one to ask the questions. My god how far we’ve come it’s crazy. He can tell how unsettled she is. The way he’s analyzing her and looking at her tells him everything he needs to know.

Yet he asks her ‘You guys are happy right?’ Lucy does a very unenthusiastic ‘Yeah we’re happy…’ Tim presses on like a devils advocate that is making her panic worse. Saying if that's true this is 'The next obvious steps for them then.' Lucy continuing her fake streak saying they’re “super happy.” Ok love sure you are…As she says this she is rubbing the crap out of her tattoo. Just being a lying liar who lies right now. They get a call before the convo continues on.

Everyone gets involved in a stop Nolan and Celina have. She has a bomb collar around her neck and she becomes the focal point for everything. The tension and writing leading up to them getting her to that parking lot in immense. Even though I've seen this episode many many times that portion always gets me. It’s so sad how afraid she is and her re-evaluating her life cause of it. How empty it feels now.

Pam and John talking was heartbreaking. How all she wanted was for her mom to know she loved her ugh. Sadly she ends up dying and that’s where this scene begins for them. I truly think this SL was a motivator for Tim. One of the reasons for where we head in this one. Because it’s so easy to get bogged down with life. To fall into the going through the motions. To have regrets with having a comfort zone. Tim taking a shot based off that.

Lucy expressing how she is feeling. It was upsetting to watch as a viewer. I can’t imagine being there watching that unfold. Tim being her sounding board. Knowing how upset she is right now. Giving her feedback on what he thought was the killers motive. Talking this out because he know it'll ease her mind. Then stupid Chris calls. Blind as a bat couldn’t read Lucy if his life depended on it.

He’s not calling to see if she’s ok or how she’s doing. No he’s calling about a f*cking house. She could not be more distraught right now. What does this tool bag do? Bring up listings. I love how Tim’s eyes pan over to her. Checking in on her emotional state. Seeing she is so distraught. It’s very obvious she is upset and this is the last thing she wants to be talking about. This moment is opening her eyes to who Chris is as a person. She isn’t liking what she sees.

Her ‘wow’ sounds like she is trying to stop herself from going off on him. So ignorant and oblivious to her and what she needs right now. Lucy already wasn’t on board with this which he didn’t see. Now she’s rattled from their current case and this mofo is sending her house stuff. Lucy can’t even process this right now. Tim being her absolute hero and hearing her silent screaming bails her out. “Yelling” at her to get off the phone. Hate his line ‘He’s in a mood.’

No you’re a clueless insensitive idiot. Who he is currently saving her from. He presses about that damn listing one more time before she hangs up. Haven’t wanted to sucker punch him this badly since 4x17. Lucy can finally breathe when they hang up. She looks to her rock and says ‘Thanks.’ A very loaded and grateful one. Tim giving her the sweetest look. Fierce protector reporting for duty. Putting her first in this moment and saving her from that convo going further.

I LOVE how Tim is constantly watching and checking in on her in this episode. He handles this whole thing so well. He’s not a dick telling her to dump Chris. He’s so so god damn attuned to her emotionally. It shows so very much in this episode. Lucy loves to talk things out and yet she keeps avoiding it in this episode. Avoiding truly getting to the root of why she’s feeling the way she is.

Which is fascinating considering that’s her jam. Analyzing and breaking something down. Digging deep to see why something is the way it is. Yet on this one she is avoiding it and Tim gets her to face it. He even gives her an out if she needs it. Telling her if she doesn’t want to move in with Chris she doesn’t have to. Tim just got out of a ‘moving through the motions.’ relationship. His POV on this is excellent.

He doesn’t want to see her settle or be forced into anything she doesn’t want. Just because Chris is ready and wants it. Lucy finally starts to talk about it. Saying why doesn’t she want to move in with him? Telling Tim they never fight. Thats a huge red flag if you ask me Lucy. That’s not healthy at all. Tim telling her maybe that’s the problem here….

It’s this next line above that really gets Lucy’s thoughts in motion. Tim just did a mind f*ck when he asked her this. You can see the realization washing over her in that second gif. Because he’s not wrong. You fight because it is worth fighting for. Chris has always been this blah middle of the road nothing for her. Was a BF? Yes. Was he decent? That’s debatable…

Chris was just there as a safety net for loneliness. Now that he’s becoming more than that it’s becoming a serious issue. One she can't ignore anymore. All their glaring problems coming to light in this moment in her mind. Tim is talking her through this (which I can't get over.) With the most perfect mixture of empathy and logic. She’s slowly realizing he is NOT worth the bother.

Tim is not only pointing this out but with massive heart eyes. Telling her she deserves someone who’s worth the effort. Pre-laying all his cards on the table in this moment. She can’t break the eye contact with him after he says this. Knowing what he means by this statement. This entire episode is him being Tim ‘I’m worth the effort’ Bradford for her. The more she looks at Chris the less she likes it.

The more she looks at Tim the more she knows he’s the one. And that scares her to death. God I love him stepping up and guiding her like this. Not only that but talking her though this whole thing. Something that he avoided like the plague in 3x09. Shaking closure and talking off and saying it was useless. Here he is talking her through this crisis she is having. He’s crushing it too btw. Such an iconic line for them for so many reasons. This makes me squee still rewatching it.

Before their convo goes any further they spot a second person with a collar. This guy is way more aggressive about saving his life. Pulls off and finds some sheers. Saying he’s not waiting around to die. Tim immediately grabs Lucy and heads for cover. It’s the way he holds her and shields her at the same time.

That’s his whole world right there. He would take the heat of a thousand bombs to protect her. Tim has a one track mind in this moment. He’s not thinking Lucy can handle herself. Or she is capable of getting to cover on her own. No he’s thinking that’s the woman he loves in front of a bomb.

It changes his entire perspective. So he full on grabs her and places his body between her and the bomb. Thats his first instinct to throw himself between her and harm. Gah it’s so good and just feels like more in this ep. Proving to Lucy over and over in this one she is worth the effort to him. Fierce protector front and center.

We catch them back in the shop trying to figure out next moves about this next bomb. Chris texts her another listing... In an area she CLEARLY doesn’t want to live in. Tim can’t stand to watch her suffer any longer. He is as straight forward with her in this moment as I’ve ever seen him. He knows she has been on edge all day. From the case alone.

Now she has Chris making matters worse with each interaction. She looks so upset when Tim asks her if she loves him? Noting that 'He clearly loves her.' His growth I talk about a lot and it’s episodes like this that truly show it. Look at this man pressing her to talk about this. He knows she’s in her head and talking it out always makes it better. Tim knows this about her and is pursuing it for that reason.

Lucy has been running from her feelings for Tim for quite some time. She low key knew about them in s4. Then 4x21 happened and they imploded on her. Hitting her like ton of bricks. This moment is her ‘Come to Jesus’ moment about Chris. Also about her feelings for Tim. Saying out loud she SHOULD love him. That he’s great in so many different ways and yet…

It’s hitting her in this very moment she can’t love Chris because she loves Tim. Because that man is and NEVER will be Tim Bradford. He will forever pale in comparison to the man sitting to her left. Tim is the most important person in her life. It’s just hitting her like a freight train what’s happening. I love how she trails off as she comes to this conclusion. The way she looks at him when she comes to this realization.

Doesn't take much for Tim to see what she almost said to him. Lucy says enough that Tim knows what she is saying in this moment. The way he looks at her after her almost confession. my heart. I think this scene is another catalyst to their ending scene. I remember watching this scene and saying ‘You’ for her and squeeing my head off. Because she just basically admitted to not only herself but to Tim. That Chris is not Tim. He never will be…They both know it at this point. He is not 'You' is where she was headed and they both are aware of this.

We’ve reached THE scene. The scene that changed all of our shipper lives. heh Lucy coming up saying she needs to talk to him. Her rubbing that tattoo of hers before she sits down. Tim making a crack about Chris wanting to live in some remote place. I don’t know anything about CA but I imagine that city he listed isn’t great ha

Lucy says ‘No…’ Tim goes right at it telling she just doesn’t want to admit it’s not working. He asks her why she is doing this? When she is clearly so VERY unhappy about this development. This entire episode she spent stressed and on edge about Chris. Asking her if it's the guilt about Rosalind?

Lucy tries to pull a Tim and deflect. Bringing up Ashley and staying in a relationship too long. Tim does not let that fly for one damn second. Continues his assertive comments with her. He gets so worked up when he cuts her off about it above. That this isn't about him. Telling her she’s just hiding in this relationship because she’s scared.

It’s here Lucy blows his damn mind with her reply. Airing her fears of losing the the most important person in her life. Now I think Tim knew there was an attraction on Lucy’s end no doubt. She invited him in for gods sake in 5x01. He knew there was an attraction. What he didn’t know was the level of importance he held her life. It’s written all over his face. He is shocked legit shocked she feels this way about him. Now anyone with eyes could see Tim is exactly what she said. The most important relationship in her life.

The thing is Tim is so very damaged in that way. I get that so very much. Where you don’t expect those around you to love or care as much as you love and care for them. The sucky life of an insanely loyal person who has been burned which I can relate to. My friend just other day told me how much he missed me while I was away in TN visiting my sister. Him and my other friend missed me. I made a joke like oh did you not think I would come back?

Would you miss me or something? He looked at me and was like yes. We love you don’t you know that? I would be devastated if you didn’t come back. We’ve been friends for almost 5 years. It still shocks me I have people who love me and would miss me. So I can deeply relate to Tim being shocked he holds that place of importance in Lucy’s life. He’s NEVER been put first. Not till Lucy Chen entered his orbit.

She panics when she sees his reaction not reading him like she usually does. Thinking she’s overshared. When really Tim is just smitten af with her reply. He is beside himself with shock that he is HER #1 person. He doesn’t feel worthy. Thats not what Lucy reads at first when she sees his reaction. She thinks she’s over shared or over stepped in some way. Tim stops that train of thought right away. Telling her 'No she’s right.' Lucy once again misreads him and thinks they should just back off this then. Better to keep them as is. ‘It’s not worth the risk...’

Then we see our boy do the biggest leap of faith I’m sure he’s ever done and combat her reply with our next iconic OTP line. ‘Unless it is.’ Looks how cute he is when he says this. His precious upside down smirk. Reminds me of his cute smirk from 4x22 after their peck. He looks so excited about this idea. Just look at this puppy of a man. Going for it and telling her I think we are worth this. Wanting to give them a shot. Basically saying we are worth risking what we currently have for what could be.

This next part is where his courage really shines through. I love how he takes this deep shaky breath in the first gif. So nervous to ask her this question. Tim Bradford is NERVOUS everyone. So nervous to ask the woman he loves to take a chance on him. To go out to dinner and give this a shot. He finally finds the courage to ask her. Lucy’s answer is immediate and adorable.

If she could go to dinner right then and there she would. Jumping out of her skin with excitement at his proposal of going out. Tim is so elated and his smile so damn wide when he says ‘Yeah?’ He can’t believe his luck. Looks like the smile of a man who just got everything he's ever wanted. Months of longing over in this moment of courage. He’s so happy she’s said yes. The man is beaming proudly displaying that Lucy smile he reserves for her and ONLY her. Lucy mirrors his elation with her 'Yeah' *heart clutch*

Lucy then back tracks and we watch our boy deflate instantly. He looks so very upset when she takes it back. Her excitement got the better of her and she retracts. I saw a hilariously accurate depiction of Tim in this scene. Said he had golden retriever energy in this moment. All excited and giddy for getting what he wants. Body wiggling with absolute joy. Then is told no and is all sad and deflated. Then he doesn’t perk back up until she says she needs to end things with Chris first.

The analogy cracked me up because it was accurate. He looks so very gutted when she says no after. Has that 'This was too good to be true I guess.' energy coming off him in waves. Lucy tries to rectify the situation with her reason why. Doesn't want to see that sad look on his face. The man looks devastated. He just went from an absolute high only to come crashing down seconds later. The way he nods like he understands but is really hurt about it. My poor puppy of a man.

I love how he lights backs up when she tells him to ask her again. Later. After she’s rid herself of the dead weight that is Chris. Making sure Tim knows she wants this just as much as he does. She just needs to end things first. Make it right. No one gets doing things honorably more than Tim Bradford. His cute smile after he tells Lucy 'Deal.' His hope returning. Their body language above in the last gif is everything. Their bodies are pointed towards each other. They couldn’t be happier right now. Leaning in toward one another finally giving into that magnetic pull of their's. Both grinning like idiots in love. Gah I can not. I am a puddle. I remember rewinding that scene to make sure I saw and heard everything correctly.

I was expecting their pining era to last longer tbh. I was delightfully surprised when Tim of all people took the leap. Helped Lucy take it with him. For him to be the one without doubts and to go for it was so important. Lucy for the most part has been the catalyst in their relationship. Tim has has his moments. More so in the last season or so. But Lucy has mainly been in the drivers seat. To watch this man overcome his fear of rejection and go for it with her. my damn heart. This man isn’t scared to ruin what they have because he KNOWS. This is it for him. She is it. I can’t get over how much he’s grown to get to this place.

To be the one to say hey we’re worth the risk. Would you like to go out with me? Showing her she’s worth the effort of leaving his comfort zone. This moment right here is why I’m so glad they did the slow burn. Why I was ultimately happy they didn’t hook up in 5x01. This was the right way to do it. I wouldn’t trade a moment of their journey to get to this point. Not one and that’s is a rarity I’ve only had with one other ship. Castle and Beckett and that is a high honor if you know that ship. This was another daunting one to tackle but so fun to write about. I was buzzing for days after this episode. Mostly just happy this is where our slow burn ended up. Wouldn’t change a damn thing.

~~~

Side notes-non Chenford

The whole bomb SL with Pam makes me cry every time. It’s so tragic. Will say John was great with her rarely give him props but he does so good with her. Celina having to do the death notice kills me this ep is very emotional.

Bailey messing with John with the clowns is pretty funny LOL but idk how Bailey could think a coyote was a dog lmao ‘how did you get him In the crate?’ 😂