#someone give me a fucking chill pill

[clovesnz]

Is it weird to struggle not to say “I love you” to someone you’ve only been seeing a couple of weeks?

I was just, so used to saying it casually, to my ex, since that was a long-term relationship, that now it’s just part of my affection vocabulary 😂

[femonologue]

Many years ago, I was wandering around downtown Ottawa with my best friend. We ran into a friend of his who offered us some hash (it sucked), then said there was a really good house party nearby if we wanted to go. We were like, yeah, sure. So that's how we ended up at some completely fucking random person's house.

I look around to ask if my friend knows anyone here and he's simply gone, as is his friend. And this isn't some red solo cup hangout; this is a party. There's people counting out pills on the kitchen counter. I am clearly neither as cool nor as drug-savvy as the kitchen people, so I back away and instead wander aimlessly into the living room, which seems to give off more of a chill vibe.

A bunch of people are seated in a circle on the floor. One of them is fiddling with a big wad of newspaper or something. A really cute grunge girl with piercings and tattoos scoots aside to make room for me, so I sit down.

"What's that," I ask her, gesturing at the newspaper wad.

She gets a really big smile on her face. You know the smile. It's the I'm About To Watch This Innocent Soul Get High As Fuck smile. "You've never smoked a tulip?"

"What's a tulip?" I ask.

"It's like if a joint was also a bong," she replies. "You gotta try it."

"Alright," I reply, a little uncertainly. This will not be my first encounter with weed. I am more comfortable with the janky newspaper bong than I am with whatever the fuck is going on in the kitchen. Besides, this girl is really cute and I would like to have a friend here now that my existing friend has turned into vapor or been transported to the Upside-Down or whatever the hell happened to him.

I watch as one person holds the newspaper joint-bong upright and holds a lighter over the top while another gets beneath it, tilting their head back to take a puff. Apparently smoking this Cheech & Chong monstrosity is a two-person job.

"Oh," I say, looking at the fist-sized knob at the top of the wonky newspaper joint. "Yeah, it does kinda look like a tulip." Grunge girl smiles at me.

I watch as the tulip is passed around the circle, along with the lighter, and hits are cooperatively taken. It reaches grunge girl, who takes a huge puff and holds it for an extended moment before exhaling an impressive blast of smoke. She smiles expectantly and holds the tulip up for me, preparing to spark the gigantic meteor of dank that makes up its tip. By this point I have completely forgotten about my missing friend. I only care about making a good impression on grunge girl. I tilt my head back and hit the tulip like a smokestack.

It is the following morning. I am sleeping between a couch and a wall. I'm not positive that this is the same house I was just in. My memories are gone. Someone is yelling at me: "dude! Dude! Wake up, dude!"

I sit up. My mouth tastes like cigarettes. I do not smoke cigarettes. "Wha," I ask the yelling man, who I am quite confident I have never met before in my life.

"We're going on a quest," he tells me, gravely. "You have to come with us."

I look around. Neither my friend nor his friend are anywhere in sight. I also do not see grunge girl anywhere. I shrug helplessly. "Okay."

We embark from this house. I learn that the destination of this quest is Tim Horton's. This is a relief to me, as coffee and a donut sounds really fucking good right now. Somehow, the route to Tim Horton's takes us past the Governor-General's residence, which everyone else in the group loudly heckles on the way past. I do not know what the Governor-General has done to raise their ire, nor do I particularly care. I trudge along with my hands in my pockets, pleased to note that I still have my wallet, phone, and keys. I fervently wish that I could remember anything about last night. Maybe I talked to grunge girl. Maybe she's why my mouth tastes like cigarettes. The tulip tasted nothing like cigarettes.

I am asked about my politics. I voice my frustrations with corporate corruption, the pay-to-win electoral system, the lack of transparency and accountability. This is met with great approval. The guy who was yelling at me claps me on the back. I get the impression that we became friends last night. I don't recognize his face. I do not know his name and he definitely does not know mine. I behave as though we're friends anyway. We are comrades on a quest.

By the time we make it to Tim Hortons, the gaggle of stoners I'm walking with have all run out of energy and/or attention span. People order snacks and break away in pairs or solo, to call for rides or plan the day's events or just vegetate and wait for the drugs to leave their systems. I look around and find that my nameless friend has also gone to the Upside-Down. As I wash the cigarette taste out of my mouth with coffee, I unsuccessfully try to remember whether I saw grunge girl smoking tobacco at any point. I remember nothing. That tulip was so fucking powerful that it instantly sent me a whole day forward in time.

Alone in the city, I try to call my best friend and get no answer. I walk to the nearest bus stop, catch a bus most of the way home, and call up my parents to ask for a ride back. They ask where my friend is. I tell them that I have no idea; we went to a house party and I don't remember anything else.

When they pick me up from the bus station, they ask me some very safe, nonspecific questions, and seem to relax when I describe what little I can remember. It isn't until years later that I realize they were probably terrified I'd gotten rufied or something, and were so relieved to learn otherwise that they didn't even bother chiding me for smoking myself unconscious in an effort to impress a strange woman. In any case, they were probably happy to find out that I did, in fact, like girls; I suspect they had been privately wondering whether I was gay.

After getting home, I finally manage to get my best friend to answer his phone. I discover that he tried the kitchen pills, spent most of the night crossing the entire city on foot, and crashed at his cousin's house. He sounds like shit. I tell him that he should have tried the tulip, instead. He fervently agrees with me.

I never see grunge girl again.

That's okay, though. She got to see a clueless stranger get fucked the entire way up on some ungodly strain of giga-weed, and I got smiled at by a cute girl, and then I got to go on a quest. Wherever grunge girl is, I hope she's happy. I hope she's smoking the fattest fucking blunt and smiling as some kid passes out behind a couch.

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

Charlie Morningstar, actual princess of hell, sitting very stiff and straight and awkward on the throne of hell during a Formal Thing, looking very Uncomfy about it... until....

Vaggie: "Are you guys all blind? She's gorgeous up there."

Angel Dust: "No surprises YOU'D like seein' her all stiff."

Vaggie: "Fuck off. She looks dignified. Formal-"

Alastor: "Tense?"

Niffty: "Like rigger mortis!"

Cherri Bomb: "Like she's sitting on TNT."

Angel Dust: "Stiffer than a porn star tryn'a pay rent."

Husk: "I can hear her fucking teeth grinding through that forced grin."

Vaggie: "Alright, she's a bit nervous sitting on the throne of hell for the first time, filling in for the absent queen mom and the shut in king dad. So what."

Alastor: "It is becoming SLIGHTLY detrimental, ha ha!"

Vaggie: "You told her to sit still up there and look pretty. Look. She's sitting. She's pretty."

Angel Dust: "You're gay."

Vaggie: "Hi gay I'm her girlfriend."

Husk: (snorts)

Alastor: "I'm SURE she is ALL those things, my dear-"

Vaggie: "Touch me and the sleeve comes off with your arm in it."

Husk: (SNIGGERS)

Alastor: "-but she IS mainly meant to be inspiring CONFIDENCE in her ability to run hell as it's de-facto ruler!"

Vaggie: "And?"

Alastor: "Well it WOULD be nice if she could make the symbolic at of sitting on the throne of hell, in full view of what is MEANT to be HER royal court, seem just a BIT more, hrmm... NATURAL~"

Vaggie: "What the fuck does that mean. She's princess of Hell. However she sits on the dumb chair is natural."

Angel Dust: "Toots, she's third in line ruler of all Pride, an' she looks..."

Niffty: "WRETCHED!"

Husk: "Fucking pitiful."

Alastor: "Once again I shall go with TENSE."

Vaggie: "You want her to relax up there?"

Alastor: "I would rather say, it is VITAL that she does so~!"

Cherri Bomb: "No sweat. Someone give me a drink and I'll slip her a chill pill."

Vaggie: "No."

Angel Dust: "NO!"

Niffty: "I could try giving her acupuncture!"

Angel Dust: "Cherri, we've TALKED about this-"

Husk: "You fucking know how?"

Cherri Bomb: "-don't be sucha stick in the mud, Angie."

Niffty: "You PUNCTURE!"

Angel Dust: "I ain't being a stick in the mud! You-"

Husk: "Unholy shit stop giggling and give me that fucking knife-"

Cherri Bomb: "Yeah, and I wasn't gonna get her royal highness high for real. Just something to take off the edge-"

Angel Dust: "She's got no history with that stuff! She'd be a KITE!"

Vaggie: "Someone hold my drink."

Husk: "-and where the fuck are YOU going?"

Vaggie: "Gonna go help my girlfriend."

Angel Dust: "Whoa whoa wait toots- ya supposed to be lying LOW here, Vagisaurus! Ex-exorcist bitch, remember? Lot's a people here who'd like to KILL ya???"

Vaggie: "If anyone's pissed enough to run up the dais steps and try murdering the princess of hell's partner right in front of her then they deserve to get at least one hit on me. You guys have fun, stick together, don't get killed."

Husk: "Take your own fucking advice-"

Angel Dust: "-aaaand she's took off, right in front of EVERYBODY oh that's just GREAT."

Niffty: "Alastor? Do you want her to die..?"

Alastor: "Right now, dearest? Well! If it helps our princess put on more of a royal bearing, then I fail to see why she shouldn't!"

Cherri Bomb: "Dude."

-

Charlie: "-eighty-three million ducks on the wall, eighty-three million duuucks... take one down.... pass it around..."

Charlie: "-don't think about how easy mom made this look don't think about her seeing you up here and wondering where she went wrong and maybe she did and that's why she left don't think about it don't think-"

Charlie: "... eighty-two million nine-hundred and ninety-nine thousand, nine-hundred and ninety-nine ducks on the waaalllll-"

Vaggie: (swoops down) "Hey."

Charlie: "-oh thank HELL Vaggie! I was just getting-"

(gets smooched)

Charlie: "..."

Charlie: ".... hhh...hi..."

Vaggie: "This armrest taken?"

Charlie: "What armrest. Oh! The THRONE right um no I mean yes you can, or- or we could get you your own chair if you want-!"

Vaggie: "Thanks babe, this is good."

Charlie: "It's- it's close!"

Vaggie: "Nice being on eye level for once."

Charlie: "or kiss level."

Vaggie: "Hm?"

Charlie: "NO NOTHING. Ahem!" (using gf's thigh as armrest)

Charlie: "Sooo, how's the party going down there?"

Vaggie: "Typical. Niffty brought a knife."

Charlie: "A knife? Just one??"

Vaggie: "We'll see."

Charlie: "I... guess just a knife's not too bad-"

Vaggie: "Heavenly steel."

Charlie: "H- Did you confiscate-?"

Vaggie: "Husk's working on it. I had better things to do."

Charlie: "Oh." (drooping) "Better things right. Other things. Just checking in on me huh? Um, what is the other things that need doing?"

Vaggie: "Charlie."

Charlie: "Shoot did I forget something?"

Vaggie: "You didn't-"

Charlie: "Something IMPORTANT?"

Vaggie: "Sweetie, you're things."

Charlie: "My things??"

Vaggie: "The things are you."

Charlie: "I'M things? What things- OH I'M THE-"

Charlie: "-I'm the things that need doing."

Vaggie: "Do you?"

Charlie: "N-not in public!"

Vaggie: "Guess you'll have to wait, then."

Charlie: "..."

Charlie: "You know, these are the only times I ever wonder about you maybe being a liiiittle itty bit evil."

Vaggie: "Punishment to fit the sin, babe. I've been having to look at you all evening."

Charlie: "I was WONDERING why your wings were showing!"

Vaggie: "You bring it out in me."

Charlie: "HEHEHEHEH."

Vaggie: "So now we're just gonna have to suffer together for the rest of the night."

Charlie: "That phrasing isn't helping."

Vaggie: "You playing with the hem of my skirt isn't helping."

Charlie: "YOU'RE the one almost sitting on my LAP."

Vaggie: "Emphasis on almost."

Charlie: (sigh) "I wish you were sitting on my lap..."

Vaggie: "You're basically melting into mine now, so there's that."

Charlie: "Your fault." (pouts) "Evil temptress of cuddles denied."

Vaggie: "Hellishly cute seductress."

Charlie: "Distracting tease."

Vaggie: "Speaking of distracting, think the whole room's looking this way now."

Charlie: "Can't blame them. You're lovely, Vaggie."

Vaggie: "Charmer."

Charlie: "Beautiful~"

Random Sinner: (charges over) "Murdering EXORCIST! You-"

(FwooOOM HELLFIRE)

Demon Charlie: (SNARLS)

Random Sinner: "...."

Random Sinner: "..... your wings are.. very pretty."

Vaggie: "Thanks."

Demon Charlie: "ANY oThER WORDS?"

Random Sinner: "C-congratulations on the girlfriend, your highness!"

Charlie: (beaming) (sparkling) "Thank you!!"

Random Sinner: (slightly charred) (eases back into the crowd)

Vaggie: "...."

Charlie: "I know I know..." (huffs) "That was a bit-"

Vaggie: "Hot."

Charlie: "Oh hush." (smirks) (drapes herself over gf's lap again)

-

Alastor: "...Well!"

Angel Dust: "She sure ain't stiff anymore."

Alastor: "Quite so."

Husk: "She's fucking liquefying."

Alastor: "Hrmm..."

Angel Dust: "Liquid like lighter fluid. She ROASTED that guy."

Cherri Bomb: "Are we like, SURE no one slipped anything in her drink..?"

Niffty: "Do you see any DEAD BODIES around Vaggie!?"

Cherri Bomb: "Uh, no?"

Niffty: "Awww. Then no."

Husk: "My grip hasn't gone limp though- Niffty, stop trying to take back the fucking angel knife."

Niffty: "THERE AREN'T ANY CORPSES HERE AT LEAST LET ME HAVE THIS!!!"

Husk: "Fuck no! You'll make corpses!"

Niffty: "I KNOOOOW!!!"

Angel Dust: "Not tonight, Niff."

Niffty: (hanging limply off of knife handle) (sobbing)

Alastor: "Oh dearest don't CRY~" (pats niffty) "Come now- why don't we RELISH how the crowd shies back in FEAR from our DARLING hotel founder!"

Cherri Bomb: "Uhh, they might just be cringing back from all the glittery rainbows..?"

Niffty: (sniffling) "Cr- cringing's good..."

Husk: "She sure as fuck does look full of pride now."

Alastor: "Indeed! MOST satisfactory!"

Cherri Bomb: "Gay pride."

Angel Dust: "In her fucked up battle scarred heavenly wash out murder girlfriend who's giving her big soppy I'm-so-in-love looks."

Alastor: "Ah HA...! Close enough~"

[pedrospatch]

to do the right thing l part iii

Post Outbreak!Joel Miller x Pregnant! Female Reader

series masterlist

summary: You go into labor earlier than expected in the QZ; Joel and Tess help you deliver the baby; after giving birth, you and Joel follow through with a heartbreaking decision.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. BOSTON QZ ERA. ((TW)) PREGNANCY, mentions and references to adoption. mentions of dead bodies, child death (not what you think), descriptions of childbirth. angst. soft, protective Joel.

word count: 7.9k

a/n: Please do not hate me. That is all. (:

June, 2020

 Disposing of the infected was a shity job.

But then again, most of the civilian jobs in the Boston QZ were pretty fucking shitty.

Still. This particular one had to be the absolute shittiest of the shitty.

Having to haul dozens upon dozens of dead bodies, the accidental inhale of soot and smoke even through your makeshift mask, not to mention, the nauseating smell of burning human flesh—you’d hated getting assigned to this work detail before, but now that you were only just a few weeks shy of being nine months pregnant, it felt like actual fucking hell on earth. And, to make matters even worse, Joel had been asked by one of the officials to head over to a different site and work a different job at the very last minute. He wasn’t by your side to lend you a hand like he usually did. Before being forced by authorities to leave the site, Joel instructed you to find a familiar face and do whatever you could do to get someone to help you when you needed it.

Luckily, on the other side of the open fire pit, you’d spotted Kevin. A younger man in his early twenties, you knew Kevin was something of an avid pill popper and one of Joel’s secret regulars. In exchange for a couple of oxycodone pills that you produced from the pockets of Joel’s jacket you were wearing, he had agreed to help you haul the heavier bodies and toss them in the fire pit.

“You know, you used to be real strong,” Kevin mused out loud as he took the shoulders of a heftier male body. Through a labored grunt, he continued, “You never needed anybody's help.”

You narrowed your eyes at him as you took the lower half of the body into your arms, taking subtle care not to strain yourself to the point of hurting yourself—or the baby. “Shut up and move, Kevin.”

“I’m just saying.”

“Seriously, Kevin,” You managed to say to him through gritted teeth as you helped him carry the body. “I’ll throw in another fucking pill if you just shut the fuck up, how about that?”

“Never used to be so cranky, either. Jesus, Miller’s really rubbing off on you, isn’t he?”

Ignoring him, you inhaled a deep breath, exhaling it as you two lifted the body and flung it into the pit. As you turned back towards the canopied pickup truck for the next one, your eyes fell on the tiniest little body that you had ever seen and you simply froze, a chill running up the length of your spine.

While it wasn’t the first time that you’d ever had to dump the body of an infected child, this one had to be the smallest—the youngest. Though his head had been covered with a brown, burlap sack just like the rest of the bodies, anyone with two fucking eyes and half of one brain cell could guess that he was, at most, around the age of a toddler.

“Jesus,” You whispered, noticing the dirty, bloodied white bandage around his teeny little arm. That’s where he’d been infected.

Kevin’s voice came from behind you. “Oh come on, this can’t be your first time seeing a kid, right?”

Your mouth had gone as dry as sandpaper. “I—I’ve never seen one this young,” You told him, feeling your heart sink into your stomach. “He couldn’t have been older than three or something.” Unable to fathom what had to come next, you turned to Kevin and shook your head. “I’ll need you to do this one. I just can’t.”

“Sure thing, sweet cheeks.” He raised an eyebrow and looked around before lowering his voice. “Just as long as you go back home tonight and let that guarddog boyfriend of yours know how much I helped you out, you know, since he wasn’t around to do it himself.” He paused, his beady, dark little eyes twinkling in sheer delight. “Maybe a two for the price of one discount during our next business transaction would be an appropriate way for him to show me some gratitude?”

If Joel could see the smirk on Kevin’s face, he’d knock it right off with his fist.

“Greedy motherfucker, aren’t you?” You muttered under your breath, before finally nodding your head in agreement. “Fine. I’ll make sure Joel hooks it up on your next deal.” Fat chance of that happening.

Satisfied, Kevin grinned and pushed past you, picking up the child’s body.

Unable to bring yourself to watch him toss it into the roaring flames, you hurriedly walked around to the side of the pickup truck, yanking down the red bandana you used as a mask down from over your nose and mouth. Placing a hand on the side of the truck, you hunched over and closed your eyes for a brief second. “Jesus Christ,” You groaned in a whisper to yourself. “I think I’m going to be fucking sick.”

You half expected to toss your afternoon crackers right there onto the pavement in front of you. However, instead, just a split second later, you felt a sudden cramp in the middle of your pelvis—subtle, but still enough to make you wince. It was immediately followed by a feeling of intense pressure between your legs. Before your mind could even wrap itself around what was happening, there was a gush between your thighs, and warm liquid started trickling down the sides of your legs.

Shit.

Terrified, you glanced down.

Though they were dirty, you could distinctly see the wet patches on your faded, dark blue jeans. “No, no, no. This can’t be happening. It’s too fucking early—”

“Hey! What the hell are you doing over here? Who the fuck said you could stop and take a break?” One of the FEDRA officials who had been assigned to stand guard at the work site came up behind you, his weapon gripped tightly in his hands. When you whirled around to face him, his eyes fell and instantly noticed your soaked jeans. A look of disgust crossed his face. “Jesus. Did you just fucking piss yourself?”

“No—” You stopped yourself, realizing this could be your ticket out of there. “Yeah,” You replied, nodding your head, causing him to let out a repulsed noise. “Sorry. I just saw a little kid, must have made me—”

He held up one of his hands, stopping you. “Save it. I don’t give two shits,” he told you with a shake of his head. “Get your ass home right now and change your clothes, then come back. Make it quick. There’s still a lot of work to be done around here. Understood?”

You nodded again. The muscles in your pelvic area tightened and the feeling drew the tiniest of sharp breaths from you—your contractions were starting. “Yeah,” You managed to say to the official, keeping a straight face. “I’ll be back as fast as I can.”

He dismissively waved you away with his weapon and then stalked off back over to his post.

Letting out a small sigh of relief, you turned on your heel and started to make your way back to the apartment as quickly as possible.

Although the building was about a mile and a half up the road, it felt like you were trekking your way across the fucking country. You felt two more contractions along the way, and while their intensity was still pretty low in such an early stage of your labor, they still hurt like hell. They started around your lower back and gradually moved around to the front of your pelvis. You tried to push past the discomfort in order to get home as quick as possible, but every now and again, you found yourself having to stop in the middle of the sidewalk for just a brief second or two, only long enough to recollect and remind yourself that you needed to get a goddamn grip before someone noticed your strange behavior. Once the building finally came into your view, all you could do was silently pray that by some fucking miracle, Joel would be up there in that apartment, home from work detail.

Your prayer went unanswered.

When you opened the door to your quarters and walked inside, you’d found Tess home by herself. She was sitting at the table, sipping on a glass of whiskey and mindlessly flipping through a decades old newspaper.

“Tess,” You said her name, causing her to look up. “Where’s Joel?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“It’s fucking happening.”

Tess stared at you, her eyes widening slightly. “Wait, what?”

“The baby’s coming,” You informed her, pointing down to your damp jeans. Though you were panicking on the inside, you tried your best to remain as calm as humanly possible. “Where the fuck is Joel?”

Tess tossed aside her newspaper and stood up from the table. “I told you, I don’t know. I know he was reassigned but I’m not sure where—he sure as hell wasn’t with me.” She walked over to you, taking you by the elbow. She pulled you over towards the couch and helped you sit down. “I thought you said it would be at least a few more weeks before the baby came.”

You couldn’t help but shoot her an annoyed look. “Well, he’s coming now, Tess. And there’s nothing I can do to stop it.”

“How long ago did it start?”

“About half an hour ago, maybe. I was at the pits and my water broke after I saw—” You trailed off, deciding the details of what you had seen back at the work site weren’t necessary to disclose to her. “I’ve had a couple of contractions, but they’re pretty far apart.”

“It could be several hours before the baby comes, but there’s still no fucking way that we’ll be able to get you over to Bill and Frank’s in time.” Tess chewed anxiously on her bottom lip as she wracked her brain for any other possible options—it took her mere seconds to realize that there weren’t any other options. “You’re going to have to give birth here.”

“Fantastic,” You deadpanned, leaning back into the couch.

“Okay, here’s the deal. You stay put and I’m going to go out and find Joel. I know there’s a couple of places where he might have been assigned and if I’m right, I can be back with him quickly.” Tess pulled off her watch from her wrist. It was old and cracked, but otherwise, it still worked fine. “I need you to time your contractions. Try and be as accurate as possible.” She then reached into the back pocket of her jeans, producing a red handkerchief.  She handed it to you along with the watch. “Listen. I know it’s going to hurt like hell, but you need to be as quiet as possible. Last thing we need is for someone to hear you and come running in here, especially while I’m gone. If you need to, you bite down on this to keep quiet, alright?”

You swallowed harshly, taking both of the items with nearly trembling fingers. “Alright.”

“Don’t worry. I’m going to find Joel and we’ll be back,” she promised you. “You stay right here, okay?”

“Because I’m such a fucking flight risk right now?”

“Even during labor, you’re still a fucking smartass, huh?” Tess rolled her eyes and reached for her jacket. 

You watched her as she readied herself to take off. “Tess?”

“Yeah?”

“Hurry. Please.”

“Fuck,” You hissed, both of your hands planted on your lower back as you paced back and forth in the kitchen, trying your best to breathe your way through another contraction.

 It had been over an hour and a half and Tess still hadn’t returned with Joel.

Your labor was progressing a lot quicker than you’d anticipated and while it could still be at least a couple more hours before the baby was born, you were still terrified at the mere thought of having to deliver him alone. You needed Joel—you didn’t want to have to do this without him.

“Jesus, fuck,” You cursed through clenched teeth. The waves of pain that were coming at you were almost enough to physically knock you off of your feet and right onto your ass. Tess had been smart to give you her handkerchief. During one particularly painful contraction, you’d shoved it into your mouth, muffling your cries of agony.

Another hour had passed and you were genuinely starting to believe that you were indeed going to have to give birth to the baby all alone in that apartment. “Where the fuck are you guys?” You mumbled to yourself. Perhaps something had happened to them—Joel and Tess had spent ample amounts of time in FEDRA lockup for the stunts that they pulled and it wouldn’t surprise you if they had gone and done something stupid, putting themselves behind bars for the night.

In an attempt to keep your mind from continuously wandering to worst case scenarios, you walked over to the kitchen sink and quickly filled up a large, chipped porcelain bowl with water. You rummaged around for the cleanest washcloth that you could find and then picked up the bowl in your hands, taking care not to spill as you hastily made your way around the single wall that divided the kitchen from the bedroom. You placed the bowl of water on top of the old, cherrywood dresser that separated yours and Joel’s bed from Tess’s bed and immediately started peeling off your dirty clothes. Wanting to hurry before another contraction came along, you dipped the cloth into the water and started running it all over your body, wiping away any soot and dirt that you’d brought home from the work site.

After you had finished cleaning yourself off as best as you possibly could under the circumstances, you searched through the drawers and grabbed one of Joel’s cleaner t-shirts, tugging it over your head. Even with the size of your swollen midsection, his shirt still fit you loosely enough, the hem of it falling to the top of your thighs. You’d finished just in time—another contraction starting coming on and you dropped down onto the bed, gripping the edge of the mattress as you hunched over in a world of hurt. “Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

As it subsided, the sound of the front door opening caused your head to snap up and your heart to skip a beat. Had you been too loud? Or perhaps a neighbor had walked by and heard you?

“Baby?” Joel’s deep voice filled the small apartment. When he appeared around the wall and saw you, a look of utter relief crossed his face and he rushed over to you, Tess following behind him. He crouched down in front of you, both of his hands flying up to the sides of your face. “M’sorry darlin’, I got here as fast I could—”

Though you could have nearly cried from happiness that he was right there in front of you, you found yourself snapping at him, “What took you so fucking long? It’s been fucking hours!”

Tess jumped to Joel’s defense. “I’m sorry, it’s on me! It’s my fault. It took me forever just to fucking find his ass and then we had to find a way to sneak him away from the work site without anyone noticing,” she explained, holding her hands up. “Not to mention, he was on the other end of the fucking QZ. We got here as fast as we could—how far apart are they coming?”

You winced. The truth was, you’d been so busy trying to get through the contractions that you hadn’t been timing them at all. “About that.”

“Are you fucking kidding me? I gave you one fucking job—”

“Look, they’re still decently far apart by a few minutes.” You placed a hand on your stomach, suddenly admitting, “But I do feel the urge to push already.”

Joel’s hands slowly dropped from your face and he glanced over his shoulder and up at Tess, looking confused. “Think it’s time?”

She shook her head. “I know it’s going to feel like you need to push as you get closer, but don’t,” she warned you, firmly. “Not yet. They need to come closer together, about a minute to thirty seconds apart. If you start to push too early, you could hurt the baby. Or tear yourself apart.” Tess took off her jacket, tossing it on a nearby chair. “Joel, keep her as comfortable as you can. I’m going to start gathering some supplies. She may not be ready to push now, but I’m thinking within the hour, it’ll be time.”

“Within the hour?” You nearly squeaked.

Joel turned back to you and cupped your face again. The familiarity of his rough, calloused hands on your skin brought some calmness, not enough to completely take your fears away, but just enough that you were able to stay somewhat level headed, even through every single emotion that you were feeling. “Baby, I know you're scared,” he said, his thumb grazing against your cheek. “But I promise you, everythin’ is gonna be just fine, alright? Look at me, right here, look at me,” he urged as he held your face firmly in his hands, forcing you to meet his gaze. “You’re gonna be fine. I won’t let anythin’ happen to you.”

“Joel, it’s childbirth,” You reminded him, smiling wearily. “Don’t make a promise you don’t know if you can actually keep.”

Though he knew deep down inside that you had a point, he repeated himself. “I won’t let anythin’ happen to you. Okay?”

You offered him a small, meek nod. “Okay.”

Joel lifted himself, pressing his lips gently to yours. He pulled away, murmuring against your lips, “That’s my girl.”

The hour that followed had been nothing short of horrific—the pain had become almost unbearable by this point. There wasn’t a single inch of your entire body that wasn’t drenched, soaked in perspiration. Your hair was an absolute mess, plastered to your forehead and to the sides of your face. Tess sat on her bed, waiting on standby for when it was time to deliver. Meanwhile, Joel, could only hold your hand in his and watch helplessly as you tried not to cry out too loudly.

“Joel,” You nearly pleaded his name, as if pleading for him to take his gun and put you out of your misery.

“I know, baby, I know,” he murmured soothingly, squeezing your hand in both of his. “I know it hurts.”

“What if I can’t do this?”

“Sorry, sweet darlin’ but you don’t have much of a choice,” he reminded you. He looked and sounded so fucking tired, so fucking exhausted—and he was. He was exhausted from having to sit there and witness you hurt while there wasn’t a goddamn thing he could do about it.

Once the contractions started coming in at less than a minute apart, Tess checked you. “I can feel the head. It’s time to start pushing,” she announced. Rolling up the sleeves of her shirt up to her elbows, she started giving you instructions. “You’re going to bear all the way down into your bottom as hard as you can. We’ll do ten second counts with short, quick rests in between each push until he comes out. Alright?”

You just about panicked. “Joel—”

“M’right here,” he quickly assured you. “Not goin’ anywhere.”

During the process, Joel had decided to sit behind you, his long legs on either side of you as he held you up at just a couple degrees shy of a ninety degree angle. Tess kneeled on the mattress between your legs, holding your knees apart as she counted through each push out loud for you.

You sank your front teeth hard into your bottom lip, the coppery taste of blood filling your mouth as you tried your hardest from screaming out.

“One, two, three, four—” Tess counted the numbers aloud until she reached the number ten. She watched you as you released a breath, and tapped your knee gently. “Come on, we’re almost there. He’s right there, you’re so fucking close. The harder you push, the quicker this will all be over. So give me one more big, strong push, alright?”

Joel squeezed your shoulders, his lips at your ear as he whispered to you over and over again, “C’mon baby, we’re almost there. It’s almost over.”

You were completely spent, exhausted both physically and mentally beyond what mere words could even explain. Close or not, you simply didn’t have it in you to keep going.

“I’m sorry, I can’t,” You moaned, shaking your head as you slumped back against his chest, your head falling into his shoulder. Your body felt like it was just moments away from giving out on you. “I can’t do it, Joel. I just can’t fucking do this—”

“You can and you fucking will,” Tess all but snapped at you, forcing your knees further apart. “Come on, all I need is one more push. Just one fucking more.”

“But—”

“Baby, please,” Joel begged into your neck. “You have to do this.”

You whimpered. They were right—you didn’t have a choice.

“Okay. One more.” You gave a small, weak nod of your head.

Joel helped you sit back up into the previous position, using his body to help support yours. He kissed the back of your head, his hands on your shoulders again. “Good girl,” he praised, bracing himself to help you through the tail end of the delivery.

“Alright, let’s do this.” Tess positioned herself, her hands ready to receive the baby once he was born. “On the count of three. One, two, three—and push. Come on, that’s it. Come on.” Squeezing your eyes shut, you followed her encouraging words, bearing down as hard as you could muster while Joel counted you through that last strenuous push. “Baby’s out!” Tess nearly cried, and you quickly opened your eyes to see her holding the baby in her arms. 

“Is he okay?” You panted, your chest heaving as you fought to catch your breath. Only mere seconds had passed, but already you found yourself in a state of anxiety over the fact that the baby hadn’t made a single sound yet. “He hasn’t cried—why hasn’t he cried?”

“She,” Tess corrected you, her eyes fixed on the newborn as she worked to clean her off with a damp washcloth. She rubbed her chest in quick, firm circles in an attempt to get her to take her first breath.

Your heart skipped a beat—you’d had a girl?

Behind you, Joel inhaled sharply, his body stiffening.

You watched in concern, your lips parted slightly at the sight before you. Not having the proper tools to clear the child’s airway, Tess tried everything and anything that she could think of to help the baby breathe. As the seconds turned into a minute, and then into two, your heart had all but climbed its way up your throat—never had you heard a silence so deafening.

“Tess,” Joel said her name, his tone dangerously low.

“Fuck Joel, I’m trying here!” Tess snapped at him. She let out a small, frustrated sigh and then turned the baby over onto her forearm. She started patting the infant’s back with her opposite hand. “Come on, sweetheart. Come on, you’re alright. Please breathe. Please—”

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the baby sputtered and let out a wet cough before a small, quick cry filled the entire apartment. 

“Fuck,” You breathed out in complete and utter relief. You sagged back against Joel, who’d also released the breath he’d been holding.

“Shh,” Tess soothed her, flipping the baby back over and bouncing her in her arms in an attempt to quiet her.  

Joel carefully climbed out from behind you, helping you to lean back, up against the wall. “You alright?”

“Better now that I know she’s okay.”

“She’s small, definitely at least a couple of weeks premature, but she looks healthy,” Tess observed. She single handedly clamped the cord, cutting it with a pair of sharp shears before she finished cleaning her off. She reached for the flannel throw blanket next to her, however upon picking it up, she had realized it wasn’t a blanket at all. It was Joel’s flannel jacket, the very same one that you’d worn for most of your pregnancy. But it had been washed the day before and it would do for the time being. Tess wrapped the baby in the jacket before easing her into your arms. Knowing that you’d never held a baby before, Tess reached out and maneuvered your arms, making sure that you were holding her properly, supporting her head and neck. “That’s it. There you go.”

Your heart swelled to twice its normal size inside of your chest and an inexplicable warmth radiated throughout every fiber of your being the moment you laid your eyes on her sweet, tiny little face. “Hi, there,” You cooed gently to her. “Welcome to the shitshow.”

Tess chuckled, crossing her arms over her chest. “Son of a bitch. We fucking did it.”

“What the hell do you mean we?” You rolled your eyes in a joking manner. The truth of the matter was that you would forever be in her debt for all that she had done to help you, not just through childbirth—through everything. 

You then glanced over at Joel, who stood silently behind her, hands planted on his hips.

He said nothing, but his dark brown eyes were glued to the newborn.

Tess cleared her throat lightly, breaking the momentary silence that had suddenly fallen over the three of you. “I’ll give you a minute to take a breather while I go clean myself up. I’ll be back to show you how to feed her.”

She excused herself, heading off towards the kitchen.

Joel shuffled awkwardly from foot to foot. “You—uh, you sure you’re alright?”

“Mhm,” You replied with a nod, unable to contain the small smile that crossed your lips as you drank in the sight of the beautiful baby girl in your arms. She had been born with a head full of dark hair—instantly, she reminded you of Joel. “She’s so little.”

Joel said nothing.

Looking up, you noticed the way his eyes took her in—the same way yours did. 

Part of you almost wanted to ask him if he wanted to hold her.

But you knew better.

“We’ll radio Bill and Frank tomorrow in the morning to let them know she’s here ,” Tess said, coming back into the room. She used a damp cloth to wipe away the blood and other fluids from her forearms. “As soon as you’re able to move, you’ll have to get her over to them.”

Your face fell slightly. “Wait, how soon are we talking?”

“Thinking maybe in a couple days—soon as you can walk.”

Your heart sank deeply into your chest.

Just a couple of days? 

That’s all you would get with her?

Noticing the crestfallen expression on your face, Joel nodded. “Tess is right,” he agreed. “We can’t hide a cryin’ baby in this apartment for too long without someone catchin’ on. The sooner we get her over to Bill and Frank’s, the better.”

You somehow managed to swallow the lump of emotion that had risen in your throat as you looked back down at her tiny face—your daughter’s tiny face.

“Think of a name for her yet?” Tess asked you, tossing her dirty cloth aside.

Joel quickly stepped in and answered for you. “Best you don’t.”

“What?” You stared at him in disbelief. Although neither of you had discussed it, you’d thought that at the very least Joel would allow you to name your child—his child.

“The less attached you are to her, the better.” His tone was short, almost curt. “Less harder it’ll be.”

Even Tess was taken by surprise. “Joel, come on. Are you fucking seri—?”

He held up a hand to stop her. Whirling around on the hell of his boot, Joel said over his shoulder as he left the room, “I’ll be outside. Need some air.”

Your lips pressed together in a thin, tight line. “I guess he’s right.”

The mattress squeaked, shifting slightly as Tess took a seat right next to you on the bed. “You know it’s going to hurt him too,” she told you, quietly. “He’ll never admit it. But when the time comes, it’ll hurt him too.”

“I know,” You whispered, grazing the baby’s cheek lightly with the tip of your index finger.

“Joel loves you, you know.”

Tess’s words caught you by surprise. “Tess—don’t. You don’t need to do this.”

She laughed in spite of herself. “You know, I never thought that man could be capable of loving anyone else ever again, not in this life. Hell, I tried for fucking years just to get him to feel a fraction of what I felt for him and nothing.” Her voice became thick with the emotions that she’d undoubtedly been suppressing for the last few years. “I don’t know what is about you, what drew him to you. But he does love you. More than fucking anything.”

“He’ll probably never admit that either.”

Tess smiled sadly. “I know.”

The five hour trip on foot from the Boston QZ to Lincoln was one that you had gotten used to over the last couple of years, but this trip had been something of a struggle for you, to say the very least.

Between being only a couple of days postpartum, having to make frequent stops to feed the baby, and having her strapped tightly to your chest in a makeshift baby carrier—which in reality was actually just a bedsheet that wrapped around your upper body—you felt quite worn out by the time you and Joel finally made it to Bill and Frank’s.

“Come in, come in,” Frank placed a hand gently on your back as he ushered you inside of the house. “How are you doing? Are you okay?” He tossed a little glare over his shoulder at Joel. “Shame on you for making her walk three days after giving birth! Surely you could have waited at least a few more days before making the trip?”

Joel let out a small, impatient huff and rolled his eyes in response.

“We didn’t wanna risk being caught with her,” You quickly explained as he led you both into the living room. “Our walls are paper thin and she cries real loud. We didn’t wanna risk having the neighbors reporting us to FEDRA.”

“She’s a crier?” Bill, who kept his distance, scoffed. “Great.”

“Oh, stop it, Bill. I’m sure she’ll be a very good baby,” Frank waved his hand dismissively at him. 

“Can you guys help me unwrap?” You asked, lightly tugging at the sheet. “This thing is so uncomfortable.”

Both Joel and Frank helped untie and remove it from around your body.

“Oh my word.” Frank’s hand flew to his mouth and tears instantly welled in his eyes as soon as saw her. “I never thought I’d see—” He trailed off, but you knew what he meant. He never thought he’d see another child ever again, much less a newborn baby. Frank knew better than to overstep or to push you too quickly, and despite his immediate urge to ask you if he could hold her already, he simply settled for lightly touching his fingertips to her tufts of soft, dark hair. “Oh, she’s so beautiful! Isn’t she beautiful, Bill?”

“Looks like an ordinary baby to me,” he grumbled, though as he eyed the child, there was a strange little glint in his eye. Bill, like Frank, also never thought that he’d ever see something like her again.

Frank sniffed, dabbing his tears away with the back of his hand. “Oh! I have some onesies from the boutique, let me grab one for you,” he stated, realizing that the baby was naked, with the exception of the improvised diaper you had her in. “She’s kind of small, even for a newborn. Do you think she came early?” He asked over his shoulder as he walked over to the other side of the room towards a pile of cardboard boxes. “I know it’s hard to tell what week you reached gestation.”

“We think so,” You said, carefully taking a seat on the couch. “She’s small, but she’s healthy. She eats well, she mostly sleeps through the night unless she wakes up hungry or needing to be changed.”

“Here.” Frank walked back over to you and handed you a cream colored onesie printed with yellow sunflowers. He also handed you a matching cloth diaper. “They’re preemie size, but I have a box of newborn sizes too if they’re too snug on her. You let me know what you think is best, alright?”

It didn’t take you very long to realize that Frank was allowing you just a taste of what it was like to properly and normally care for your baby, just like any mother would in a pre-outbreak world. 

Part of you wished that he wouldn’t bother, but you still appreciated his kindness nonetheless.

Frank laid a soft, pink blanket on the couch for you to lay her on.

As you changed her, you felt Joel watching almost intently.

Since she’d been born, he still hadn’t held her. You didn’t take offense to it, nor did it hurt your feelings that he refused to touch her, because you knew how he was feeling—what he was feeling. You would often catch him stealing long, lingering glances at her whenever he’d think you weren’t paying attention. Deep down in your heart, you knew he ached to interact with her, that he wanted nothing more than to take her into his arms and give into his paternal instincts. But he was simply trying to make this process as painless for himself as possible. Joel didn’t want to risk developing any kind of attachment to her. 

“Does she have a name?” Frank asked, holding his hands behind his back as he watched you button up the onesie. At this point, he was itching to hold her for the first time, but he wanted to respect what little time you had left to interact with her.

Sure, you would be able to see her every now and again, but Joel was adamant of keeping visits to a minimum.

“She doesn’t,” You replied in a soft voice. “We didn’t name her.”

Joel, who had taken a seat in the rocking chair next to the couch, raked a hand through his hair as Frank shot him glare, as if he knew whose idea it had been to not give her a name. “S’only right for you two to choose a name. We ain’t got no business givin’ her a name.”

“He’s right,” You said, before Frank could protest. “It’s best we leave that to you and Bill.”

Frank touched your shoulder. The sympathy in his eyes nearly made you burst into tears on the spot. Wanting to allow for a brief change of subject, he offered, “How about we all have a bite to eat? Hmm? Surely you must be starving after that long walk.”

You forced a small smile. Food was the last thing on your mind. “That would be nice,” you fibbed. 

For the rest of the afternoon, you refused to put the baby down.

Your arms ached from holding her for so long—but you couldn’t care less. It was one ache that you would happily deal with for the rest of your natural born life if it meant never having to let her go.

Frank had been completely understanding of your desire to keep her with you for as long as you possibly could. Being the incredibly sweet, kind soul that he was, he showed you nothing but patience and didn’t question you, nor did he push you or grill you on whether or not you had changed your mind about leaving her in their care. Bill, being Bill, had muttered a few, passive aggressive incoherencies towards you under his breath over lunch—something about how for someone who claimed they wouldn’t have a problem giving up their baby, you sure as hell seemed to have a hard time letting her out of your grasp.

However, once the late afternoon finally rolled around, you knew that the time for you to say goodbye was on the horizon. As much as you fucking wished you could, there was no changing your mind, not if you wanted your daughter to live safely, happily.

“Bill? Frank? Do you think we can have a minute with her, just the two of us?” You asked them. You had all moved back into the living room after lunch. Knowing time was running out, you hoped that you and Joel could have one last moment alone with her before it was time to leave.

“Of course.” Frank nodded and tugged on Bill’s arm. “We’ll be out in the front yard—the plants need some watering.”

You shot him a tiny, grateful smile. As they disappeared, you leaned back into the couch and made yourself comfortable with the baby.

Joel, who sat over in the rocking chair as he had earlier, pursed his lips. “Don’t make this harder than it needs to be,” he said, shaking his head at you. “We really should just hand her over and go home.”

“It’s going to be hard no matter what, Joel. May as well enjoy her for a while longer.” You glanced down at her just as she started fussing herself awake. She looked up at you with her dark eyes. “Hello, sweet girl,” You greeted her in a soothing voice as she cooed. 

Joel watched with a heaviness in his heart as you kissed the infant’s cheek delicately. How he wished you would just fucking listen to him.

“You’re going to be safe here,” You told her, lifting your hand to her hair; the ends were beginning to curl slightly. “I know you might grow up and have questions one day, and who knows, maybe when you’re all grown up, you’ll know the truth about everything and you’ll understand why we did what we did.” You paused. “This is the right thing to do, sweet girl. It's the best thing for you. Frank is going to make a great dad, and Bill—well, Bill is Bill. But I know you’ll have him wrapped around your little finger in no time. I promise there’s a softie underneath that grumpy exterior, just have to bring it out of him, is all.” Despite it all, you couldn’t help but laugh a little. 

Joel craned his neck ever so slightly to get a better look at her. “She’s so alert,” he observed. “Y’know, for bein’ a couple days old and all.”

You glanced up at him. Somehow, you mustered up the courage to ask, “Joel? Do you want to hold her?”

Joel hesitated. But you were shocked he didn’t immediately decline.

That meant that he did.

You carefully stood up from the couch and slowly walked over to him. Giving her another kiss on the cheek, you held her out towards him.

Joel looked at her reluctantly, but then gave in and took her into his arms. He leaned his weight back into the chair and started rocking, knowing the movement would be soothing for the baby. “She’s got your nose,” he murmured, watching as the motion started luring her into another slumber.

“That head of hair is all you, though,” You told him with a tiny, sad smile. “I’m going to go get a glass of water from the kitchen. I’ll be right back.”

Moments later, when you’d returned, you stopped in your tracks out in the hallway when you heard Joel speaking. Furrowing your brows, you leaned your back against the wall and listened in to what he was saying.

“Hi babygirl,” he started, his voice low but gentle. “Everythin’ your mama just told you, well, she’s right. We’re doin’ this to keep you safe. We wanna give you a chance at a decent life. She doesn’t wanna give you up. Neither do I,” he confessed. “But we can’t—I can’t keep you safe. I can barely keep your mama safe most of the time, y’know.”

You hung your head, willing yourself to hold back the tears.

“I didn’t want you, at least not at first,” Joel continued to say, an ever so slight tremble to his voice. “Thought you were the biggest mistake we ever could’ve made. But now that you’re here and I’m holdin’ you in my arms, I realize I was wrong. I’m glad you’re here, babygirl. This world is ugly, but you remind me that there’s still beauty in it. Not a whole lot, but just enough to shine a little light in the darkness.”

Joel paused and as you peeked around into the living room, you saw him press his lips carefully to her cheek, right where you’d kissed her too. “You won’t be ours after today, but that doesn’t really matter. At the end of the day, you’re always gonna hold a place in my heart. Right next to your big sister. Alright?”

A tear slipped down your cheek, and you quickly wiped it away with the back of your free hand. As soon as you were certain that he’d said all he had needed to say, you walked into the living room and offered him a sip of your water, behaving as if you hadn’t just heard him pour his heart out to his baby daughter. Joel moved over onto the couch with you and for the next couple of hours, the two of you took turns holding her. By the time early evening arrived, you realized that you and Joel were really pushing it. And knowing Bill, you were absolutely overstaying your welcome.

“So, we just wanted to check in with you two,” Frank said tentatively, nervously wringing his hands together as walked into the room with a very unhappy Bill trailing behind him. “It’ll be getting dark soon.”

You and Joel stood from the couch; he handed the baby over to you.

Your heart lodged in your throat, you walked over to Frank and eased her into his arms. “Here you are.”

Taking a step backwards, you watched as he looked down at her, his face beaming.

“Fatherhood looks good on you,” You couldn’t help but tell him. And you meant it.

Frank was going to make the most incredible, loving father. 

“Does it?” Although he was smiling, he sounded nervous.

“You’re going to be a natural,” You touched his arm lightly. “We know she’s going to be in the best possible care.” Dropping your hand back down to your side, you glanced over at Joel, who stood there silently, his jaw clenched. “We’d better be going.”

“You know you’re more than welcome to come and see her whenever you’d like,” Frank offered. “We really wouldn’t mind that.”

“Don’t take that too literally,” Bill gruffed behind him. “The less visits, the better.”

You nodded, your voice cracking slightly as you said, “We know.”

“Let’s get a move on.” Joel nudged you lightly with his elbow. Did you just hear his voice break a little too?

After one final goodbye, about five minutes later, you and Joel found yourselves on the other side of the fence.

Joel noticed the expression on your face. He could see you crumbling right in front of his very own eyes like a pastry. He didn’t know what to say or do to make it better—hell, he knew nothing was going to make it better. He wanted so badly to reach out and put his arms around you, but he was afraid that one touch would cause you to come undone. “C’mon, we need to get movin’ before it gets too late or we’ll freeze our asses off,” he reminded you quietly. He started leading the way, but turned around when he realized you weren’t following behind him. “Baby—”

And just like that, the sob you’d been fighting finally escaped you.

“I’m sorry, Joel,” You quickly shook your head, trying desperately to stop the tears, but it was too late.

“Don’t be sorry, it’s alright—”

Before Joel could reach out for you, you sank down to your knees on the gravel. You placed your hands over your mouth, trying to muffle the sound of your cries. You knew it would be hard, but nothing could have prepared you for the god awful feeling of leaving Bill and Frank’s empty handed, without your baby daughter in your arms.

Joel sighed softly and crouched down beside you, pulling you into his arms. “Shh, baby. I know,” he tried soothing you, one hand around your shoulders and the other gingerly stroking your hair. “I know.”

Though nightfall was fast approaching, he didn’t push you. He simply held you until you eventually ran out of tears and little hiccups were all that was left. “I’m so sorry.”

“Stop fuckin’ sayin’ you’re sorry,” Joel said, squeezing your body against his to keep you warm against the chilly, evening breeze. “You have nothin’ to be sorry for, alright?”

“It hurts. I know we did the right thing, but it hurts so fucking bad.”

Joel pulled away and looked down at you. The sadness was evident in his gaze. “We did do the right thing. She’s going to be safer here than she could ever be with us in the QZ,” he reminded you, as if you didn’t already know that. “At least here, she’ll be well fed. She’ll have running water. She’ll get to enjoy fresh, clean air. She’ll get to run around the front yard and play in the grass. She won’t have to walk home from fuckin’ FEDRA school past a fire pit full of burnin’ bodies every goddamn day.”

“Maybe it’s just me being selfish, but that doesn’t make it hurt any fucking less, Joel,” You confessed, the guilt causing a fresh batch of tears to brim your eyes. “I know we’ll still get the chance to see her every now and again, but it’s not enough. It won’t ever be enough for me.”

He leaned down, leaning his forehead against yours. “I know. Won’t ever be enough for me either.”

You closed your eyes, another tear finding its way down your cheek. “How the fuck are you supposed to go on when you feel like a part of your heart is missing?”

“You just do,” Joel whispered. “You just move on. Try to, anyway.” He rose to his feet and pulled you up with him. “When I lost Sarah, I had nothing. Nobody. Tommy wasn’t someone I could count on, he was too busy thinkin’ he could save the fuckin’ world.” He chuckled bitterly. “So I carried that grief with me for years, all on my own. Like the weight of a thousand bricks strapped to my fuckin’ back.”

“Joel…” You opened your eyes, your gazes meeting together.

He lightly brushed his lips against forehead. “You ain’t alone, darlin’. You have me and I ain’t gonna let you carry this pain alone. You understand me? Never.”

“I know that,” You choked out. 

Joel pulled you against him once again, his arms wrapping themselves around you. 

“I love you.”

It was just above a whisper, barely audible but you’d heard him.

Clutching fistfuls of his jacket, you buried your face into his chest, uttering, “I love you too.”

[look-at-the-soul]

Can’t love in the dark (Part 2)

Tommy Shelby x reader

Sequel to “All I ask”

Request: kind of 🤭 @l1-l4 Andy threw a fantastic idea one day and I saw it, and from that moment I’ve been thinking about it daily… until this idea worked perfectly with another request for my Adele challenge ♥️ Andy, you asked for an angsty story, here you go! I hope you and everyone else like it 🥰 that gif was amazing and summed Tommy’s anger.

Summary: (There’s a time jump between this and the first part) Tommy keeps watching over Y/N, sending flowers, even after getting married to someone else. Until one day he exploded after finding the truth that caused a terrible accident.

“Can’t love in the dark” is one of my favorite Adele songs, the sentiment she sings with every time she performs it on stage gives me chills 🥹

⚠️ Angst but with a little surprise at the end 🤭

Word count: 4,727 (without the lyrics)

Making the decision to let Tommy go was the hardest thing you ever had to do, but it was for the best, or at least you tried to convince yourself of that. Crying your heart out at night you tried to comfort yourself by thinking that his baby would be able to grow next to his father. Forcing yourself to push aside the feelings and expectations you started to develop towards Tommy and the future he had shared with you that’d be taking off right after the races.

He’d have another priorities from now on.

The following day you quit your part time job at the Shelby Company Ltd. and focused entirely on the shoes shop. Tommy tried absolutely everything in his power but all he got in response was a sad glance that broke his heart or you leaving him at the shop speaking to himself while you pretended to be busy in the back.

There was nothing to be angry or resentful towards him, he slept with Grace before meeting you after all… but deep down you wished it was you instead of her the one getting pregnant.

With a heavy heart you thought how you could only dream of what could’ve been.

You had been on the edge ever since, struggling to sleep, eating the bare minimum, you felt like a fragile thing that’d break at the slightest contact, trying to hide from your poor father the sadness that you carried around like a heavy weight on your shoulders.

Nothing seemed to be working out the way he had planned. Not after you made it very clear that the future he had envisioned of the two of you together wasn’t possible, he held the hopes still, thinking you’d accept the marriage proposal and he could be there for his son, but you quickly let him him know that was way too modern and looked extremely bad for you. He tried convincing you over and over, assuring that it would be just fine because it was you the one he wanted to get married to, not Grace.

There was nothing he could say would convince you otherwise.

But what really hit him was that one time when you on the edge of crying asked him to leave, you actually yelled at him frustrated because it was too damn painful to accept the fact that he didn’t belong to you, you accepted out loud that you were jealous of Grace for giving him something you wouldn’t.

As weeks went by, he got the news that Grace’s husband ended with his own life, he decided to not get involved in that matter but it was hard to stay away at the same time because she was pregnant with his baby. She was deeply affected by the way events turned out, constantly on the edge and his major concern was the wellbeing of his unborn child so he did everything he could to ensure it. One thing led to the other and he ended up getting married with Grace because it was the right thing to do.

So here he was, stuck in a marriage for the wrong reasons, thinking of another woman, dreaming of another woman that was slowly, little by little slipping away from him. It was impossible to focus on the fucking papers in front of him, work had been pilling up because he was always looking for a ridiculous excuse to see you, even from afar.

Polly stormed into her nephew’s office fuming after learning that he had blinders guarding Y/N when she took the train to the south to see a new vendor. Despite what happened, Polly still had a good relationship with her.

“It’s been over a year Thomas, you have to let her go, you got married to Grace, have a son now… Y/N needs to live her life, rebuild and start over.”

“What the fuck do you mean start over?” He squinted his eyes, blowing away the smoke of his cigarette.

“Oh! Please don’t play dumb with me, do you really expect her to remain single forever?”

The realization sinking in, it felt as if he got kicked in the gut. The long gulp of whiskey didn’t help.

“No… no, there can’t be another man in her life.”

“Are you even listening to what you say?! She deserves to be happy!”

“What do you know? Ey?!”

“There’s someone who’s interested in her but he can’t get close because of your bloody guards!” Polly exploded.

Jaw clenched at the thought of another man starting to court you. No, anything but that.

“I’ve to protect her.” Tommy leant on his desk with palms wide open. Head hanging low.

“You lost her and all for your stupid revenge towards the woman you’re married now!”

“I never thought she would get pregnant, trust me that wasn’t my intention.”

“But it’s too late now for that… just let the girl move on.” Turning on her heels she walked towards the door. “And be more discreet, the maids keep gossiping about how you are sleeping in the guest room.”

****

Hearing the bell, you called from the back of the room; “The store is closed now, I just forgot to change the sign” but you cut yourself after finding him at the other side of the counter.

“Y/N… please.”

Take your eyes off of me so I can leave

I'm far too ashamed to do it with you watching me

Defeated, you gave up, manners long forgotten. “How many times do I have to tell you that you’re not welcomed here anymore?”

Your attitude made him remember the first time he saw you and Tommy had to hide the smirk that was about to appear on his lips.

Please, stay where you are

Don't come any closer

“Just leave, Thomas, for good.” You pointed at the door. “Goodness, sometimes I wish you could keep your fucking promise and burn this fucking place down so I would’ve a reason to go away.” You admitted with anger, pacing the small shop.

Don't try to change my mind

I'm being cruel to be kind

“I could never do that to you.”

“That look doesn’t charm me anymore, your shoes are new, I bet all bloody Birmingham has new shoes so you really don’t have anything else to do here.”

“I want to help you.”

“Don’t.” You stated bluntly. “I don’t want your help or anything for the matter.”

“When I look around and see all I got, I should be pleased by the way things turned out. But I can’t… because I’m not sharing it with you.”

He was sincere and genuine, you knew that.

“Those were your dreams, not mine.” You added one more -an unnecessary- coat of product to clean the shoes, just to distract you from his gaze.

“Polly mentioned you need to move on. But I can’t let you go.” He was selfish without question, but those strong feelings for you didn’t go away even after marrying Grace.

“So I assume you’ll just go and use that razor blade in any potential man I lay my eyes on.”

“That’s not a bad idea, I’ll consider it thanks.” He added with a smile, loving the irritation in your eyes.

“What do you want Thomas?”

“You.”

It was one word but it included everything he really wanted.

“And what do you suggest then? You want me to be your mistress? That’s not going to happen.”

“Y/N…”

Emotions got the best of her, her eyes filled with tears. “I can’t love you in the dark.”

“Do you nee-”

I can't love you in the dark

It feels like we're oceans apart

There is so much space between us

Baby, we're already defeated

Shaking your head you gave him a warning look. “If you don’t leave right now, I’m going to start throwing shoes at your head for real.”

That was an image he would’ve loved to see, and deep down he knew you would do it without a doubt. So he decided to save himself the embarrassment and headed to the door, but before he even got to open the door, he turned to give you one more look.

Everything changed me

“Please just don’t kiss him the same way you kissed me… cause if you do, you’ll remember me.”

Your fist closed around the shoe you had been holding, way to expensive to throw it away, so instead you threw the brush you had been using. Letting out a groan in frustration.

Time didn’t make it any easier to forget him, all the opposite the feelings for him seemed to be stronger than ever, you wouldn’t stand between him and his son. You returned every single present and basket with fruits and flowers he sent over the last months right after reading every note he added to whatever the present was. His words were tattooed in your heart.

You have given me something that I can't live without

You mustn't underestimate that when you are in doubt

If only he didn’t see Grace back then, you’d be enjoying life together.

****

“You wanted to see me Tommy?” Scudboat poked his head from the door.

“Come in, close the door.” As he saw the blinder step in, he took a long swing of his whiskey, the liquid burning. “I need you to ask your wife to go to Y/N’s shoes shop.”

“Again?” Asked in shock Scudboat, he just went last week, but as Tommy gave him a dead stare, he hid his hands in his pockets.

“Yes, again, but ask her to go on Monday after eleven o’clock that’s after Y/N left for the market, and it will take her a while to go back to the shop and you’ll give her mother this money.” Tommy planned. He knew you’d go then to prepare lunch for your father and eat with him, then you’d take over the shoe shop while your mother returned home.

Tommy knew every single step you took, at what time you got the newspaper and each vendor you’d visit. Yet, you were so far away from him.

It was unfair for you, he knew that. He’d never ask you to be his mistress or anything, he just wished to find a fucking way to get you back. It was hard also for him to admit there was a time when he thought that maybe, just maybe over time he’d learn to love Grace like he used to years ago, but deep down he knew he’d never fully forgive her for betraying him. Let alone having a son together would make their marriage work.

But I don't want to carry on like everything is fine

The longer we ignore it, all the more that we will fight

“What happened Johnny?” Tommy cleared his throat getting anxious by the minute.

“Ehh you won’t like I-” Johnny muttered but he cut himself off when Grace stepped into the office.

“Tommy…” she looked over at Johnny several times, like trying to give him a hint to leave them. “It’s getting late.”

He found it extremely annoying to get interrupted, leaning back in his chair he flicked his cigarette. “I know.”

“Are you coming to say goodnight to Charlie?” She tried batting her eyelashes at him, the sweetest smile on her lips.

“Later, I’m working.”

“Bu-”One annoyed look and a loud sigh and Grace brought a hand to the end of her hair to disguise her disappointment. “Alright.”

Rolling his shoulders, Tommy looked at Johnny again. “So?”

“Tom I don’t like this, why can’t you just leave the poor girl alone? You’ve a family now, a boy.”

But Tommy kept shaking his head. “I’m paying you to watch her and report her moves to me, not asking if you like it or not.”

Polly knew him, his uncle Charlie was able to read him like the palm of his hand, but Johnny couldn’t understand the motives to keep tracking Y/N down.

“You broke up a year ago, got married… there’s no reason to-”

“Johnny, I’m not going to ask you again.” He dragged the words, if it wasn’t for the desk between them, he would’ve Johnny Dogs by the collar of his shirt now.

“Y/N is dating someone.” Johnny murmured, keeping his head down.

A heavy silence filled the Arrow House office.

Please, don't fall apart

I can't face your breaking heart

Tommy got up from his chair and walked quietly towards the window finding darkness only.

“Who is he?” He asked with more control than he expected.

Johnny made a face. “Don’t do this to yourself Tommy, let her move on.”

The man with icy eyes gave him a side look, it was enough to make him talk.

“He’s a Doctor, respectable, good background, treats her right, sends flowers every four or five days, walks with her to the park on Wednesdays and Fridays, on Saturday he goes in for dinner but leaves right after that. On Sundays she brings him food to the hospital and...”

“Apple pie?” Tommy completed while Johnny nodded.

Tommy knew the fucking recipe from start to finish, he could almost smell it and his mouth watered by the simple memory of how it tasted.

Did she give the doctor a small piece with her fork like she used to do with him?

Did she kiss the corner of his mouth after having a bite to remove the remains of sugar?

“That’s all Johnny, thank you.” He swallowed hard, memories making his chest ache.

Johnny wondered if he should also tell Tommy another thing he found out while following them.

Stopping right in front of the heavy door, Johnny twisted the peaky cap between his hands.

“He bought a ring two days ago Tommy.”

“Johnny,” His emotionless voice stopped him, “don’t follow her, you can go back to the gypsy camp.”

Once alone, Tommy pinched the bridge of his nose, defeated he took the glass of whiskey upstairs.

Looking at his son sleeping in his crib he couldn’t help but wonder why he made the mistake of fucking Grace that one time, he swore he could contain himself and he’d only use her to drive Campbell mad. But no, he was weak and the only time they were together she got pregnant. This wasn’t supposed to be how he envisioned his life, he wanted to date you, then propose to you, get married and start a family… you had been there for him to pick up the broken pieces from the ground that Grace left. Somehow you managed to make him softer, showed him he could trust and love again.

It wasn’t a surprise when you took a step back, didn’t accept his apologies, didn’t want to hear his explanations, packing your belongings from his office the very same night of the races, and closed the doors to your heart.

He begged, was willing to get on his knees to ask for forgiveness but you wouldn’t listen. His first mistake was to sleep with Grace that night, the second, marry her because she was with a child.

Was he being selfish? How could he let you go when you got so deep inside his heart?

You were slipping away from him, little by little, if you officially started a relationship with someone else, that man won’t waste time after realizing how fucking awesome you were, and if that happened, there was nothing left he could do to get you back.

I can't love you in the dark

It feels like we're oceans apart

There is so much space between us

“Why don’t you come to bed, Tommy?” Grace circled his desk and slipped her arms around his neck from behind. “It’s late.”

“In a minute.” He replied pretending to look at the papers scattered over the oak desk.

“I think you sho-”

“I said in a fucking minute!” He lost it.

Grace made a little jump when he raised his voice. “I heard what you said, I’m just trying to be a good wife.”

“Don’t try, Grace… just don’t try.” He added sharply.

“I’m doing everything I’m supposed to be doing Tommy, I take care of our house, look over Charlie, I make sure you’ve everything you need and yet I’m always alone here and when my husband is finally home by the end of the day I want him to take care of me.”

Tommy saw Grace toying with her wedding band.

“I’ve a load shit to do, alright?”

“Is that true or are you sleeping with some whore around?”

Her accusation made him snap his head at her. “What did you just said?”

“You haven’t even touch me in weeks…”

He wanted to sarcastically laugh at her question. You wouldn’t let him set a foot in your shop, let alone sleep in your bed.

“The way I see it, if you’re not with me that means you’re fucking someone else. Just tell me what you want and I’ll do it.”

He didn’t have the balls to say that the last time they slept together, he fantasized it was you instead of her, your name almost slipped out of his lips. But it would’ve drive Grace mad.

“I’m trying to go legal, Grace. That’s all… just go to sleep.”

“Tomm-” She started again but he cut her off.

“Don’t make me repeat myself again.”

Before she left, Tommy could swear he heard a sob but he was busy emptying the whiskey in his glass as he stared into the fire absently. Throwing his head back atop of the couch he wondered if you were by yourself that night.

The following day Grace insisted on joining him to visit his beloved horse, who was being trained at another facility. She started telling Charlie he’d see horses and the kid got too excited to advice her against the idea.

“… as I walked into the jewelry, I saw these lovely earrings that match perfectly…” Grace chatted non stop as they were on their way to the stables. He was looking forward a quiet day, but Grace had other ideas.

He just wished she could sleep just like Charlie was doing in her arms.

“Are you listening?”

Tommy dragged his eyes from the road to look at Grace for an instant, snapping out of his own thoughts.

“Yeah.”

“So what do you think?”

Shuddering, he took a long puff from his cigarette, feeling the smoke burn in his throat.

“I knew it, Tommy… you’re not paying attention.”

“Can you please stop this?!”

“Don’t raise your voice, you’ll wake up Charlie.” She tried but it was too late, the kid was already fussing. “See what you did?”

“You started this.” He pointed angrily.

“Shh, shh Charlie don’t cry.” Grace tried to get his boy settled, luckily he found a couple of horses out there.

“Look over there Charlie.” Tommy pointed. “There’s a horse.”

“Joshiee.” Charlie repeated, clapping.

Stopping the car, Tommy took Charlie in his arms, leaving Grace behind him. The gentleman in him wouldn’t be proud. But each passing day it was harder to pretend that he cared.

Placing his son on the ground, Tommy offered his hand to guide him.

“Come ‘ere.” Pointing at the fishes in the water trough, Tommy looked at the kid smiling with his chubby hand extended. “Goldfish keep the water clean.” He explained as if Charlie could understand. Grace joined them minutes later.

“I’ve been thinking… we should go away, for a family holiday.” Grace proposed brushing away a lock from her face.

Tommy shook his head instantly.

“Can’t do that, I’ve lots of work to do.”

“For a few days.” She tried again.

“No, you can go with Charlie though.”

Grace unamused expression didn’t have any effect on him. He was used by now.

*****

Tommy felt a rush of adrenaline through his body as he pushed past the people gathered on the street. The flames consuming the small shop, people trying to use buckets to attempt to extinguish the fire.

“Y/N!” Was all he could think of as he was desperately looking around for you.

We're not the only ones, I don't regret a thing

Every word I've said, you know I'll always mean

Everything was chaos.

Someone shoved him from behind, but since he let his guard down, he never noticed. An angry voice called for him and he recognized it right away.

“You must be happy now, finally kept your promise of burning my place down… MY MOTHER WAS INSIDE! You bastard! Get outta here!” Your fist landed on his chest as he was trying to process everything.

Tommy felt a rush of relief wash over him as he saw you were alive, but then he got in defensive mode.

“You destroyed years of hard work! My grand parents opened this store, my father started here cleaning shoes until he got a promotion and met my mother.” You spat with tears in your eyes, not caring about the venom and anger in your voice, or the people staring. “I HATE YOU THOMAS SHELBY, and I hope you pay for this.”

“I didn’t do this.” He let out a heavy sigh, shocked by your accusation.

His heart was shattered to know you thought he could do something like this. His stomach turned into a tight knot as he found the disappointment in your eyes.

“As if I didn’t know you, leave for good and don’t you ever come back.” You spat with anger oozing from every pore.

It is the world to me that you are in my life

But I want to live and not just survive

Walking backwards, he stumbled with someone who was trying to help. On his way to his vehicle he saw your mother sitting next to another woman on bench, at least she wasn’t injured.

“Find whoever did this.” Tommy instructed one of the blinders before leaving the place, he still couldn’t believe this was happening, but he had an engagement to attend and besides there was nothing he could do if you didn’t want him there.

Rushing into Arrow House he needed to hurry up to be on time, luckily Frances had his outfit prepared. The phone had been ringing in his office, but he really needed to get out of the house as soon as possible, after adjusting the last touches to his tuxedo, he moved to walk around the car, finding Grace already waiting for him. She welcomed him with a smile and a kiss that took him by surprise, there was something in her eyes different, it seemed like she didn’t had been bothering him about another woman in his life.

“Everything will get better for us after tonight Tommy, I just know.” She checked her reflection.

He doubted it was a possibility, but decided to have a peaceful night for once, specially at an event like this. He needed to raise funds.

“Where have you been? You were almost late.” She asked casually disturbing the peace he was looking for.

“Had some trouble at the shop. Finn messed up.” He lied.

“Hmm that’s weird, I looked for you there and couldn’t find you.”

“Went to the Garrison afterwards, that’s the reason I was late.” The lies slipped from his lips so easily.

She wanted to add something else, but Polly intercepted him by the door. “Scudboat has been looking for you, he looked deadly worried but wouldn’t tell me what’s going on.”

“Polly not now, please.” Turning around his head, he found the city Council leader with Grace.

And as they engaged in conversation, Tommy’s gaze was fixed by the entrance, as Father John Hughes and that insufferable MP entered. He couldn’t even stand to watch them, they weren’t welcome so he better hurry up to finish whatever the hell they’re wanted.

“Brother you need to know something.” Arthur whispered into his ear pushing him towards the staircase for some privacy.

With a heavy sigh, Tommy shook his head. “Not now Arthur, I can’t deal with anything else right now.” He spotted his wife talking to that mad Duchess.

“It was Grace.” Arthur admitted.

Confused, Tommy gave him a long look.

“Grace started the fire at the shoes shop, she saw a woman inside and thought it was Y/N. Someone recognized her.”

His head was spinning, anger building up and reaching unknown limits. Everything was so confusing, the bile rising up in his throat. Y/N could’ve been dead by now.

Storming like a bull he pushed past the people to find his wife.

“Come with me.” He grabbed Grace by the arm roughly making her gasp.

“Tommy I was talking to-”

“Why are you so worked up Mr. Shelby?” Tatiana smirked. His head was pounding. “I was telling your wife about the sapphire she’s wearing.”

“Tatiana said it’s Russian.” Grace interjected eager to participate.

And somehow the conversation escalated quickly, Tatiana kept pushing Grace’s buttons but at the moment he needed to keep the Duchess at bay. He’d deal with his wife’s jealousy later.

Scanning the room, he found Ada, fucking finally! Now he needed to deal with a spoiled princess he thought unamused. As his sister charmed Grace about a fucking donation, he tried to convince Tatiana it was a bad idea to go to the factory, but she was stubborn and had certain urgency to fuck him. There was nothing more discouraging than a woman selling herself off.

He was done. Fucking done of everything; the economic league, the duchess, his wife’s lies. This woman was absolutely mad

But time stopped as the duchess told him the sapphire had been cursed by a Gypsy. His ears were ringing, a shiver ran down his spine. Tommy had lost his faith back in France, but if there was one thing he believe in was spirits and Gypsy curses.

Speechless, he reached his wife in a few long strides.

“We need to talk.” Waving his hands anxiously he pointed at Grace’s necklace. “Take it off.”

“No, why?” Grace hissed visibly pissed off. “Tommy you gave it to me. Why are you doing this? You want to give it to someone else?”

“Here we fucking go.” He scoffed bothered. “I don’t fucking care, you want me to say this in front of them? Fine, I’ll tell you what I just learned.”

Anger was boiling inside of him, he simply didn’t care anymore.

He couldn’t explain the real reasons behind his request. “You told me you stopped by the office earlier huh?” He glanced someone passing towards the grand salon for diner. “But you forgot to mention that afterwards you stopped by at a shoes shop, the last place where a woman like you would be, Grace.” Looking up at the ceiling he blew the air he had been holding. “You started a fire at that shoes shop and don’t even try to lie, because people saw you.”

Grace’s features contorted. “Yes, I did it… because you’re distant with me, I know you wanted to marry that shoe saleswoman.”

Tommy saw red. “Yeah, I was going to marry her and when she heard you were pregnant she took a step back, walked away from me. That’s the biggest and selfless act of love.”

That's why I can't love you in the dark

“And where would you be today if it wasn’t for me?” She asked with her jaw clenched.

“Right here with her giving a beautiful speech about kindness.”

“I’m glad she’s dead by now.” She attempted to walk away, but Tommy took her by the shoulders.

“You should be thankful sh-”

“I don’t care about anything related to her.” Grace replied.

“Well, you should.”

“And why would I care about her?”

“BECAUSE I CARE ABOUT HER!” He lost control, Polly turned her head around at the shouting. “MORNING, NOON, AND NIGHT… I CARE ABOUT HER.”

Grace walked backwards, looking down.

“You’re lucky she wasn’t at the shop, she’s alive and I’m going to find her after the gala is over.” Tommy admitted triumphantly.

A man stormed in his direction out of the blue.

“For Angel!” He shouted right before firing his weapon.

The gunshot echoed in every corner of the room.

In the middle of the chaos, Tommy noticed Grace’s body leaned against him harshly, there was blood everywhere and people screaming. Tommy fell to the floor by the impact and Grace’s weightless body.

He called for help, and ambulance, anyone but Grace was already gone…

Someone took her lifeless body away from him and he wasn’t able to react, he remained frozen on spot in a corner. Replaying the images over and over.

Y/N swallowed hard after debating the entire afternoon whether if you were doing the right thing or not, yet here you stood if front of the venue where the Shelby family was leading a gala to raise funds to help people in need. One of the many dreams Tommy had shared with you.

Once the fire was controlled and people started to leave, one of the blinders who helped your mother to come out of it unharmed to let you know it had been Tommy’s wife the one who caused it, not him.

And guilt had been eating you alive ever since.

You needed to apologize for all the terrible things you said to him. You didn’t hate him, said it out of anger.

“Y/N! Oh, there’s been a tragedy… Grace is dead.”

****

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! I’m so happy the first part was so well accepted, hoping this following part will like you too… did you see that coming? If you have a few minutes, I’d LOVE to hear what you think!

Master list

Tag list: @lyarr24 @runnning-outof-time @cillmequick @datewithgianni @cloudofdisney @gretelshelby @gypsy-girl-08 @lespendy @onlydeadcells @fastfan @stevie75 @prettylittlehoneyeyesxoxo @esposadomd @forbidden-forest-witch @ange-thoughts @moral-terpitude @elenavampire21 @forgottenpeakywriter @thenattitude @winchestergirl22 @zablife @elk96 @heidimoreton @imichelle-l-rigby @allie131313 @already-broken144 @peakyscillian @babaohhhriley @mrkdvidal1989 @shelbydelrey @shaddixlife @sloanexx @sydneyyya (can’t tag) @holacia3 @ironpen @adaydreamaway08 @pono-pura-vida @thomashelbyswife @darleneslane @everythingelseisextra @kmc1989 @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @spookyboogyuniverse @amberpanda99 @immyowndefender @mysticalbouquetwolf-posts @trixie23 @shelundeadxxxx

[kiss-me-cill-me]

Now We Pay The Price | Pt. 2

Start with Pt. 1 HERE!

Pairing: Jonathan Crane x Reader

Word Count: 5.4k

Warnings: ALL OF THE SAME WARNINGS AS PART 1, plus more angst, some fluff, general dark themes, depiction of a stick n' poke tattoo, violence, makeshift weapons, fear toxin, Crane spikes someone's drink (not the reader's)

A/N: Back by mildly popular demand lol :) First, I have to give a huge thank you to @cillianslvt for all of her help with brainstorming, concept bouncing, and song picking! She gave me the perfect inspo for this part: Supercut by Lorde.

I wanted to do something a bit different here, so this is told in alternating cuts between the fallout from part 1 (written in past tense) and flashbacks to the reader's college days (written in present tense just to be confusing lol). I probably will be writing one more part for this, but it might be a while before it's out because I kind of want to take a small break from angst haha. But, I hope you enjoy this part!

***Please read the warnings before continuing. Minors DNI***

Somewhere out in the echoing hallway, an alarm buzzed.

“Lights out in five minutes!”

The guard’s booming voice was almost too muffled to understand through the thick metal door. But you weren’t paying enough attention for it to matter. It was the same routine, for the hundredth time. You didn’t need an announcement to know that you were about to be plunged into the dark.

And besides, you had more important things to worry about.

Your fingers traced over the hearts that still littered your bedsheets. Contained to one of the corners for now, but wild and scattered, as if they might be about to spill out over the rest of the white cotton at any moment. Unrestrained.

You clenched your teeth, trying hard to focus on something other than the hailstorm of tremors that seemed ready to wrack your body. Your skin was prickling. If you opened your mouth, you weren’t sure if what came out would be a sob or a scream. You didn’t particularly want to find out.

The familiar sound of a key in the lock was enough to pull you out of your stupor. Quickly, you covered the doodles again, and whipped your head toward the door, hoping.

But no. It was nobody. Some faceless orderly, sent to give you the pills that you never took, if you could get away with hiding them.

Tonight, though, you decided to behave. You had certainly been causing enough trouble lately. And besides, if you were being honest, you could use them. Your mood had been a complete mess all day, and a little stability would be nice, for a change.

You swallowed your pride along with the pills, and flopped back onto the mattress. As soon as the orderly was gone, you inched the sheets back down, exposing the blue stains. Tomorrow was laundry day, and you knew that you wouldn’t be able to enjoy them for much longer.

Seconds later, the lights flicked out, and you were left alone with your memories.

The asphalt beneath your feet feels like it’s not even there as you practically skip down the driveway, and you’re not sure how gravity still has a hold on you by the time your hand wrenches open the car door.

“Hey!” You smile as you climb in, whipping around quickly to fasten your seatbelt. Maybe that will be enough to ground you, but it doesn’t seem likely. “Thanks for picking me up.”

“You took long enough to get out here,” he replies, slightly snarky.

But when you finally look up at him, his soft half-smile makes your heart melt, and your legs and arms feel even more weightless than ever. His blue eyes peer over at you from just below the rim of his glasses, and he tilts his head while he waits for you to respond.

“Fuck off, Jonathan,” you laugh, waving a hand in his direction.

He shakes his head, shifting to take hold of the wheel.

As he starts the car, the two of you sit in silence for a moment, and you use the opportunity to take a closer look at him. He’s bundled up tightly in his jacket. A slight chill permeates the air, though you feel perfectly warm sitting next to him.

“I don’t know how you can stand driving around without listening to music,” you say suddenly, reaching for the radio.

It takes you a minute to find anything worth listening to. Static mixed intermittently with snippets of sound fills the car as you carefully turn the dial, until finally landing on something you know. Satisfied, you sit back.

“I don’t know how you can stand listening to this,” Jonathan laughs. “I mean, are you even hearing these lyrics?”

“I like the lyrics!” you insist. “What’s wrong with them?”

“They’re just cheesy,” he says, dismissively.

You roll your eyes, and settle back with your arm resting against the car door. Before long, your head is bobbing along to the music, and you start to hum.

You’ve only known Jonathan for a few weeks, but already it’s become nearly impossible to ignore the way your heart pounds when you’re next to him. It’s nerve wracking - to think he might not feel that way about you. But you don’t let yourself imagine that possibility too often. It’s better to stay positive, and look to your future together. You honestly can’t imagine things any other way.

At the start of the chorus, your humming turns gradually into words - quiet at first, and then louder when Jonathan doesn’t try to stop you. Soon, you’re singing at full volume.

“You know, distracted driving is the number one cause of car accidents,” he informs you.

When you look over, you notice the small smile that tugs at the corner of his lips.

“But music improves mood and cognition,” you shoot back, interrupting your singing to give him a slight shove. “Shouldn’t you know that, Mr. Psychology Major?”

Jonathan scoffs, but mercifully keeps his mouth shut when you open yours to start singing again, rolling down the window to scream into the night.

Your eyes, tight with heavy sleep, shot suddenly open, to be met by the darkness of your cell. Breath heavy, you tried to remember the dream you’d been having. Whatever it was, it had gotten you worked up. So much for the sedatives doing you any good; maybe Crane hadn’t actually upped your dose like he’d threatened to do.

Or he had, and this was just your body’s paradoxical reaction to the sudden increase. Not that you had been taking the regular dose with any consistency.

You considered getting up, but what was the point in that? There was nowhere to go but from one corner of the small room to the other, and you had spent enough time pacing back and forth to last a lifetime.

The small window set high up on the wall of your cell let in a sliver of light, just briefly, as a rotating searchlight made its round, and you closed your eyes again.

The university’s library is calming, in a way. The seemingly endless stacks of books reach out to greet you as you run your hands over their spines, walking slowly down one row and then another. 

You’re looking for something specific, but not a book. You know that he always comes here at this time.

Jonathan is crouched down to reach something on a low shelf when you finally see him. You hover, half-hidden, at the end of the row where he’s kneeling, and watch as he flips through the first few pages of a book. Satisfied, he stands up, and you saunter into the aisle to join him.

“Hey,” you call, softly. “Thought I might find you here.”

Jonathan tucks the book under his arm, and looks at you curiously for a moment.

“Hey,” he echoes, apprehensive. “Don’t you have class right now?”

“Do I?” you ask, stopping next to him. “Whoops. Whatcha reading?”

“Nothing. Just a book for class. Unlike some people I know, I take academics seriously.”

As he talks, he tilts his head to the side and takes a step closer to you, crowding you back against the bookshelves. He’s smiling. Just having fun with you; you’re sure of it. But you can’t stop the warm rush that spreads over your cheeks.

You try to straighten up under his gaze, bringing the tip of your nose close to his.

“I take this stuff seriously, too,” you insist. “Here, I’ll prove it. What’re you studying?”

Before giving him a chance to respond, you reach down and snatch the book from his hand. Brushing a thumb over the cover, you consider the title.

“Phobias, huh?” you muse. “No offense, Jonathan. But you’re not very scary.”

You beam as you watch a blush creep over his cheeks. He’s been doing that around you more often, and every time you notice it, your heart swells.

“You don’t think so?” he drones, taking another step closer.

He’s nearly on top of you as you press back into the row of books, and you feel your heart leap into your throat. Not out of fear, but for an entirely different reason.

“Nope,” you challenge. “Not scary at all.”

“Hm. Guess I’ll have to try harder then.” 

He snatches the book back and starts to move away from you, but before he can get too far, both of your hands shoot out. Your fingers grab onto his sweater, and faster than you have a chance to think, suddenly your lips are pressing against his. Eyes squeezed shut so you don’t have to face his reaction, you hold him. But when you let go of his shirt, he stays there for a few seconds longer, before pulling away.

“That was scary,” you breathe, finally daring to meet his cold eyes.

But, what you see there is softness, mixed with slight shock. The piercing, frost-blue that normally seems to slice through you has taken on a watery quality, as if something has melted, if just for a moment.

You take a deep breath as Jonathan leans back in.

By the time the orderlies had started to wheel their huge bin of laundry down the narrow hall, your white sheets were already torn off and crumpled at the foot of your bed. You weren’t about to take the risk of anyone else seeing the hearts you’d drawn. This way, they were unlikely to be noticed. At least until after they’d already been mixed with all of the other patients’ laundry, untraceable to you.

Before, the worst that could happen was you losing your pen - a sorry excuse for entertainment, but nothing vital. Now, losing that same pen meant losing your one chance at freedom as well, and you weren’t prepared to give that up.

You stood in the far corner of the room, watching silently as two men came in to collect your sheets. They didn’t comment on the fact that you’d stripped your own bed - perhaps too caught up in their meaningless conversation to notice.

When they left, you finally felt able to breathe again. You exhaled, trying to push every last trace of air out of your lungs so that you could start fresh again.

Sitting back down on your new set of sheets, you ran your hand over the blank space that no longer bore even a faint trace of love.

“What are you doing?” Jonathan asks, leaning over your shoulder to peer down at whatever has you so occupied.

“Giving myself a tattoo,” you reply easily. 

“What?”

“It’s just a little heart - see?”

You carefully hold up your wrist to him, showing off the half finished lobe of a heart. One side of it, anyway. It’s slow going, but you’re determined to take your time; to not rush through the impulsive decision you’ve made.

“Why would you do that to yourself?”

“Because I felt like it,” you reply. “Do I need another reason?”

“Did you at least sterilize your wrist - and the needle?” he sighs.

“I used some hand sanitizer. M’sure that’s good enough.”

Jonathan pinches the bridge of his nose, putting his other hand on his hip.

“You’re going to hurt yourself,” he complains.

“Well, it’s not like I can’t stop now, though - right?” you say, playfully. “You’re always telling me not to leave things half finished.”

Jonathan sits down in the chair next to you, as you go back to carefully maneuvering the needle. Your tongue sticks out from the corner of your mouth, frozen in concentration. You jump, just a fraction of an inch, as the sharp point breaches your skin.

“Give me that,” Jonathan mutters.

He’s already swiped the needle away from you, and is holding your wrist down securely against the table as he inspects your work.

“This isn’t going to heal nicely,” he informs you.

“I don’t care.”

To your surprise, he dips the needle into the little pot of ink that’s sitting on the table between you, and then lines up the point to continue.

“You’re pushing it in way too deep,” he says, peering over his glasses.

When he presses down, the sharp end of the needle barely seems to graze you. It doesn’t hurt so much when he does it. Jonathan’s thumb brushes over the flesh of your palm, soothing you.

“You’re good at this,” you comment. “You’ll make a good doctor someday.”

Jonathan tries to hide his smile, but you catch the small curl of his lips despite the way he’s hunched over, focusing on your tattoo. The second jab is just as painless as the first, and you smile back.

“This isn’t exactly what I picture myself doing for work.” He laughs - just a small hum, but it’s there.

“Right - you want to study the fear of needles. Not be the one jabbing patients.”

“Something like that,” he agrees.

The two of you sit, huddled close in the silence; you watching Jonathan work as he gingerly uses the needle. It’s strangely intimate, and you feel closer to him than you have in a long time. 

Not because you’ve spent too much time apart. On the contrary, you’ve been seeing each other more often than ever. But the more time you spend with him, the sharper you seem to feel his small absences. It has, lately, started to seem like you need to see Jonathan more and more often just to feel normal; like you’re in danger of something bad happening when he’s not there.

“Thank you,” you say.

“For what?”

“The tattoo means more, now that you’re the one doing it.”

Jonathan keeps his head bowed, trying desperately not to let you see his expression. The tips of his ears give him away, though, as they turn a bright pink behind strands of hair that have fallen away as he leans down.

“Jonathan?” “Hm?”

“It’s polite to say ‘you’re welcome’ when someone thanks you,” you tease.

As he looks up to narrow his eyes at you, you take the chance to lean in and press a kiss to his cheek.

The harsh white fluorescents buzzed over your head as you leaned back in your uncomfortable chair. You’d sat in this same plastic seat for probably dozens of therapy sessions. Not once had the miserable thing ever done anything other than give you back pain.

“Are you paying attention?” the doctor in front of you asked.

“No,” you replied.

What was the use in lying, when it was obvious to both of you?

The doctor hummed in annoyance, shuffled some papers, and frowned at her clipboard. 

“Well I suggest you start,” she began, “because what we’re trying to do here is very important. You know your appeal is in the process of being reviewed, and…”

You tuned her out, turning your attention to the much more important matter of planning your escape. Even just thinking those words made you feel strangely giddy. This was something that happened in movies and cheap paperback novels; not real life. But, you had made up your mind, and there would be no going back now. You were going to rebuild your life with the person who mattered most, and doing that meant that you needed to get out of here.

You thought of the ballpoint pen, now modified and hidden, deep within the bones of your mattress. It had taken patience to sharpen the plastic casing against the concrete, and patience was something you didn’t have much of these days. But in the end, it would all be worth it.

“...three counts of manslaughter, and two more of - are you listening?” the doctor repeated. 

“Why should I? We both know that I’ve heard this a thousand times,” you sighed.

The doctor, equally as exasperated, crossed her arms and rolled her eyes.

“Whatever. It’s your life.”

“My life doesn’t exist in here,” you whispered. “Not the one I want, anyway.”

“Well, it’s the one you’ve got, so maybe you ought to start acting like it,” she suggested.

You ignored her, and retreated back into the world that only existed inside your memories. Yours… and his, if you were lucky.

The room is dark and full of music. Music, and bodies - swaying in time to the rhythm; draped over furniture or pressed up against walls, as lips meet and hands wander. You pass by two people who look like they’re three seconds away from ripping each other’s clothes off, and duck under the raised elbow of somebody else as they pump their fist in the air. A clamor erupts as you pass; some conversation you’re not part of that’s full of hollered laughter and shouts.

You’re looking for Jonathan, amidst all the colors and flashing lights. You’d left him several minutes ago to go and find the bathroom, and got turned around on your way back. The slight buzz of alcohol makes your limbs a bit looser than usual, and you pause to savor the deep thrum that emanates from the sound system. As you close your eyes, your feet sway a little, and you smile.

Jonathan is never interested in going to parties with you, but for whatever reason, he had accepted the invitation tonight. You like to think it’s because he just wants to spend time with you, even if loud, messy gatherings aren’t usually his idea of a good time.

Finally, you find your way back to the couch where you left him. And there he is, smiling that soft half-smile you know so well, from the hundreds of times it’s made your heart do somersaults in your chest.

You frown. Scowl.

Jonathan is leaning forward, hands on his legs as he talks to another woman. Smiles at her. You stop short in your tracks, and watch from a distance as Jonathan tilts his head to her ear, whispering something.

The girl stands up, giggles while she looks down at him for a moment, and then walks off. You see red; a crimson wash that feels slightly too familiar as it drapes over you.

Jonathan, still on the couch, smiles for a moment longer before reaching into his pocket. The girl has moved on by now, and you watch as the affable grin is wiped neatly from Jonathan’s face, replaced by something blank and more difficult to categorize.

There’s a tiny glass tube in his hand. You can’t see what it is exactly, but you can make out the way he removes a cap, and then brings his hand close to the red plastic cup that’s sitting on the table in front of him, right where the woman had been.

Your rage propels you forward, and without time to think things through, you’ve grabbed the sleeve of his jacket before you even realize you’ve reached him.

“Shit- Oh. It’s you,” Jonathan mumbles.

“What the hell are you doing?” you hiss.

Jonathan looks at your hand on his arm. The vial, now empty and still pinched between his fingers, hidden from the rest of the crowd. And then back up to your face.

“This isn’t what it looks like,” he begins.

“What are you doing?” you repeat, your voice wobbling louder.

Jonathan’s eyes dart off to the side, and he stands up quickly. Suddenly, his hand is in yours and he’s dragging you off, heading for a set of glass doors that lead to the back patio.

“Let’s go somewhere more private,” he says, and you can barely hear him muttering over the sound of the screeching music and the pounding, frantic whir that seems to have taken over your head. 

By the time you’re outside, the door shut firm behind you, you haven’t calmed down a bit.

“Jonathan-”

“I swear, I’m not doing anything bad,” he interjects. “I know that it… probably looks like I’m-”

“Why her?” you say, softly.

You can’t even stand to look at him as you speak. Your whole chest feels impossibly heavy; as if it’s consuming the rest of your body, piece by dissolving piece.

“...What?” Jonathan looks at you curiously, as you feel yourself fall even more fully apart.

“Why her, when I’m right here, huh?” you demand, tears squeezing out from behind your damp eyelashes, even as you try to blink them back. “I’m yours, Jonathan. I’ve been yours. All you have to do is ask.”

“That’s not… God, I’m not trying to-”

“You don’t even have to try with me!” you cry, voice rising up into a frenzy. Your hands fly to slam against him, pushing him by the shoulders. “You’ve never had to-”

You cut yourself off, and cradle your wrist to your chest. The tattoo that he gave you is settled close by to your heart, and you bring your other hand up to trace absently over the ink that mirrors it.

“Listen to me,” Jonathan says, taking hold of your shoulders. You look up at him, salty tears still welled in your eyes, starting to spill down over your cheeks. “That’s not what I’m doing. This is just… research.”

“Research?” you echo.

“Yes. That’s all,” he assures you. Both of you have started to calm down, and the pressure of his hands on your shoulders finally becomes noticeable. “It’s for… how do I phrase this?”

The sounds of the party are muffled out here, but suddenly a sharp scream rises over the music. Both of you turn to peer through the glass doors, and you catch a brief glimpse of the woman from earlier, just as the red plastic cup falls from her hand. She claws at her face, and sinks to the floor, still screaming.

Your focus shifts back to Jonathan, and you watch as he stares through the glass, his eyes frigid and, suddenly, calculating. His hands are still on your shoulders, and you feel as his grip tightens slightly, as if his fingers are itching to do… something. You can’t say quite what.

“...Fear,” you breathe, quietly.

You aren’t sure exactly what’s going on, but some sort of vague understanding has started to seep into your nerves, mending the frays that had threatened to form. Like healing salve, soothed over all of the tiny rips and tears that had nearly pulled you apart, only seconds ago.

“Yes,” he agrees. “That’s all I wanted her for. I swear.”

It takes you a moment to realize he’s looking at you again, a serious expression on his strained face. His eyes seem to bore into yours, but it’s comforting, just to feel like he’s burrowing into you.

The commotion inside becomes louder; more shouts of alarm rising to join the first, and you hear something crash to the ground. But you’re not paying attention to that anymore; you’re swimming in Jonathan’s eyes as the tears slowly dry from yours.

“Jonathan?” you ask. “Can we go home?”

He turns to look again at the riot that’s quickly developing inside; the bass of the music replaced now by shrill cries that have risen above everything. For a moment, you think he’s about to refuse, and the lump in your throat almost tears through the delicate flesh of your neck.

“Sure. Let’s go home,” he agrees.

You walk, hand in hand, away from the party. Looping around the house and down the sidewalk, your fingers intertwine with his in the night air. You smile, and grab onto Jonathan’s arm, pulling him closer.

Today was the day.

You pulled your sleeve down, trying to cover the now-sharpened pen casing that was held tight in your sweaty hand. The tip of your finger brushed over the point, as you went over the plan in your head again.

If you could manage to be stealthy enough, you wouldn’t even need the pen. Not that you would hesitate to use it, but there was a certain amount of risk that you’d prefer to avoid if at all possible. Things could get messy, and that would be sure to draw attention. For once, you didn’t want Crane to notice what you were doing.

You stayed close to the wall of the cafeteria, practically hugging the stone as you walked briskly. It was important to be fast, but not too fast.

“What are you doing?” asked a sharp voice behind you.

You would have spun faster than either of you could blink, pen at the ready to plunge into his neck. If only you hadn’t recognized the voice.

Crane grabbed you roughly by the shoulder, and you screamed silently behind your eyes.

“Nothing,” you said calmly. “Going for a walk.”

“You’re not allowed to do that,” Crane sighed, already dragging you to face him. His expression was just as drab as the bricks that now pressed into your back. “What’s in your hand?”

Your finger flicked over the sharp point again. This was the one possibility that you hadn’t imagined, of course. The one opponent your weapon was useless against, all because you couldn’t bring yourself to use it.

With your jaw set and shoulders squared, you straightened up to face him. You wouldn’t shy away from his eyes, even if looking at them meant facing the disappointment that lurked, not-so-subtly beneath their surface.

Crane grew impatient awaiting your answer, and grabbed you by the wrist. You let him. It was useless to resist, and the two of you glared at each other as he yanked your hand and your fingers fell open. The story was written over your palm, almost as clearly as if you had used the pen to record it across your own flesh.

Crane picked up the wrecked pen, considered the jagged edge of the plastic, and pocketed it. Without another word, he turned and dragged you out of the cafeteria, heading toward your cell.

Jonathan’s hand in yours is restless; seeming to flutter as his thumb drifts absentmindedly, rubbing back and forth in a way that might be more soothing for him than it is to you. You want to help him, but you’re not sure how. You’ve noticed the anxieties that have seemed to overwhelm him lately, and you wish there was more you could offer him.

“Maybe you should take a break,” you suggest. “We could watch a movie or something. Go for a walk?”

Jonathan shakes his head, and tears his hand away to go back to scribbling on the pad in front of him. The paper is already littered with letters and symbols that mean nothing to you. Three vials full of pale liquid - Jonathan’s pet project - roll gently back and forth on the table.

“I can’t get it right, and I don’t know why,” he snaps, frustrated. “I need to run more tests, but…”

“I could test it for you,” you offer.

Jonathan looks at you with a mix of shock and, maybe, revulsion, and you feel yourself shrink back into your seat.

“I wouldn’t ask you to do that,” he says.

“You don’t have to ask,” you reply. “I’d do anything for you.”

His expression morphs into something that’s harder to read. That’s been happening more and more often lately, and it’s started to panic you when it does. You know him so well, but suddenly, there are sides to him that seem almost foreign to you. You bring a hand up to cup his sharp cheek, and the smile stretched over your own face feels plastic.

“Us against the world,” you remind him.

Jonathan places his hand over yours, only for a moment before pulling away entirely.

“I just… want to know I can do something,” he says. “Something I set my own mind to.”

“You can,” you assure him. “You have.”

“My whole life, I’ve felt as if I’m just reacting to things that are outside of my control,” he continues, almost as if he hadn’t heard you. “I just want to understand why.”

Emotion has crept into his voice, and your first instinct is to pull back. You ignore it. Instead, you place a kiss on his temple, and he lets his head fall to rest on your shoulder. The room is silent for a moment, as you wrap both your arms around him and try to think of something to say.

“You know I’d be lost without you, right?” you ask, gently. 

“That’s because you have a dysfunctional attachment style.”

You stop. His words, flat and unemotional, pierce through you as if he had stabbed instead of spoken them. You can feel the ground opening up at your feet, and struggle to reassert yourself.

“That’s not true. You… don’t mean that,” you flounder.

“Maybe I don’t,” he agrees, halfheartedly. “Who knows anymore.”

Your heart aches. You hate that he’s talking like this is the end of something. A foregone conclusion that’s just out of his grasp, but that he doesn’t even care to reach for. A sentence on a page, half-finished but forgotten.

“You’ve been working too hard,” you decide. “You’re tired.”

“I am tired.”

“Let’s go to bed, then,” you suggest. 

He nods, and you take hold of his hand to guide him, the dark ink of your tattoo pressed up against the blank space on his wrist.

Back in your cell, Crane didn’t bother to lock the door behind him for once. Instead, he stood directly in front of it, hands on his hips as he stared down at you.

“I would say I’m shocked, but I’m not,” he sighed, voice already grinding against itself. “But, what I can’t figure out is this. What gave you the idea that this would go well for you?”

You didn’t answer.

“It’s not as if I don’t monitor you.”

Normally, the admission that he’d been paying attention to you would have made your heart flutter. But now, it felt like there was nothing more than a pit in your chest. The same one that was always there, longing for something that could fill it without being swallowed.

“You’re lucky it was me who found you, and not somebody else.” He moved one hand to pinch at the bridge of his nose, just like he always had. For as long as you’d known him. “Don’t you ever stop and think before you act?”

That was insulting. You’d spent plenty of time thinking about this. In fact, it was all you’d been focusing on for weeks - at least when your mind was clear enough to focus. 

And really, he was one to talk. How many times had you helped him crawl out of one failed situation or another? It wasn’t fair for him to talk like everything he did went perfectly, when both of you knew very well that it didn’t.

“Don’t have anything to say?” Crane pried.

You felt anger swell furiously within you, and - as if to prove the point he’d just made - you surged forward without thinking. Crane didn’t have any time to react, and you pressed your lips up against his in a harsh kiss that felt sickeningly void of love. Your cold fingers grabbed at the front of his sweater, and you felt your lips crush into your teeth, desperately searching for some hint of the spark that you felt certain was still there.

Crane scrambled, his back pressed against the hard door, and finally tore you away from him.

“What are you doing?” he spat.

Your eyes were downcast, unable to meet his, and you bit the cracked skin of your lips.

“Who knows anymore,” you replied, echoing his words from long ago.

“You need to control yourself,” Crane hissed. “If you can’t, I’m not going to keep making excuses for you.”

His words might as well have just echoed off the stone walls, vibrating in an empty cell. You weren’t listening. You weren’t even there anymore.

Fleeting as a beam of light. 

Crane collected himself and then left, departing just as the sleek ribbons of past life came to wrap over you again.

You woke, not realizing that you’d fallen asleep. You weren’t sure how long it had been since Crane left, but, judging by the way the lights were already turned out, it had been hours. 

Automatically, your hand went to the top corner of your mattress, intent on blindly tracing over the hearts that had once been there on the sheets. But of course, they weren’t anymore. Instead, though, you heard a clatter as something fell to the floor.

That was odd. Certainly, you hadn’t left anything there this morning. It wasn’t as if you had any possessions to leave.

Groping in the dark, your fingers slid across the floor. Finally, you found it, and held the object up close to your face.

A key.

Your lips curled as you held tight to the metal.

Read Pt. 3 HERE!

[callmearcturus]

what erik needs is fucking adderall

based on the idea punct and I keep kicking around that bc Peter is clearly ADHD as fuck, Erik is too but he's never been medicated so he's just so fucking high-functioning he's like a neurotic clock that has ground all of his reactions down and has his shit on lockdown. so then what if he finally gets medication?

Peter, in his cast after XMA: Oh yeah can someone run into town to pick up my good good drugs? Cause my leg. Charles: Drugs? Ah, the-- yes, I'll ask Hank. Erik, curious: Drugs? Peter: Hard drugs. Fuckin' speed, my man. Charles: It's not-- it's. Dextroamphetamine besalt, not-- Peter: Amphetamine is in the name! Erik: He's on amphetamine? For his mutation? Peter: Nah, nah, I got the distraction thing. Serotonin and stuff. Charles: Oh for god's-- it's… what is it (reads Erik) ah, Aufmerksamkeits-Defizit-Hyperaktivitäts-Syndrom? Erik: I see you're pronunciation is still dreadful. ADHS, hm?

Charles, looking between Erik and Peter: Hm. Peter, lifting his eyebrows, looking at Erik, then back at Charles: I mean. No, no way. Charles: It does tend to be, ah. patrilineal, is the thing. Erik: What does? Peter: But he's Jewish, isn't that matrilineal? It's a whole thing. Charles: That-- it doesn't mean genetics work differently-- (outraged noises) Erik: What about my mother? You're talking around me. Charles: It'd just be… interesting to see. I'll have Jean go along with Hank and… suggest an extra refill. He has many of the signs for late stage diagnosis. Erik: Glauben Sie, dass ich ADHS habe? Charles: (hums non-committally)

(later) Peter: what if it kills him Erik, laying on medical bed: I'd be very annoyed, personally. I have survived quite a few impressively fatal incidents. Peter: Oh yeah like the nazis. Charles, full Professor Mode: Yes, thank you, Peter. And we have a full stock of dopamine antagonists and nitroglycerin in case he has a bad reaction. It'd be terribly poor form for me to kill your newly-discovered father so soon in your reconciliation. Erik: That lab rat feeling is returning… Perhaps I'll see if Jean needs help with the roof. Charles: No. Swallow this pill. Erik, giving a severe look: If you really decided to finally end our truce, you would do better than poisoning me, correct? Charles: I would never insult you with something so underhanded. Hell, it wouldn't be dramatic enough for me either, I'd be… Peter: … Blue-balled? Charles: Take the bloody meds, Erik.

(TWENTY MINUTES LATER) Charles, to Peter: Is he all right? Peter: Huh, yeah. Yanno sometimes I forget to pick up my refill right so I gotta go some days without it or I ration, so when I take it again, I gotta get over the sleepy. Charles: The 'sleepy'. It's speed. Peter: I know! It's so weird. It chills you out. It's better than weed honestly. I mean uh. Not that I've ever done weed. Charles: Oh please, Peter, I've rolled a few joints in my time. Peter: Huh. Cool. So is there a good dealer around here? Charles, out loud: Erik? Erik, eyes closed, breathing slowly: Yes, Charles? Charles: You don't seem to be having a hypertensive episode. Erik: No. (reaches out a hand, flicks off the lights with his power) You can go back to speaking telepathically. It's quieter.

that's all i got, i gotta sleep

[petew21-blog]

Just a party

Another inbox story: I loved your Andrew Garfield and Tom Holland story! Would you be able to do a Robert Downey Jr and Chris Evans body swap?

Chris:"Tell me again Downey, why did I voluntarily swap bodies with you?"

Robert:"Cause everybody took the pill and there is a swingers party that will follow. You just have to prove you have been swapped for the past 5 hours or you won't be let inside. They say it helps them from body thiefs."

Chris:"Why do we even wanna go to swingers. If it were on me I'd just suck my cock right here and now and then swapped back. I don't need some rando in even more random body sucking your cock. Even if it gives me pleasure."

Robert:"Dude, just... be chill. Ok? We leave in 30 minutes. Just stay and wait for me. My body has a fabulous look, but right now I have to take care if this things you gave me and call a face."

Chris:"Oh, fuck off. I'm way more sexy than you are and you know it!"

They left for the party. Everybody had to leave their belongings at the entrance and stay in only their underwear.

The hunky bodybuilder called out:"Good evening everyone. it is my honour to start this evening by choosing our first pair. You all have been given one even and one odd number to the pair you came here with. This way is to make sure that you don't end up having sex with your body. Even though I know many of you already have done that before arriving. Without further ado. The first pair is number 17 and 21. Please enjoy the room number 7.

Robert:"Here I go. That's me. Wish me luck for someone hot"

Chris:"Yeah, hope you don't get some std"

Then the man took out another two numbers. "Number 4 and 18. Enjoy your room number 8."

I followed the same way Robert left. I just hope the person that comes inside here will be hot atleast. I know that last year some people ran away. I opened the door. And there he was, already witing for me

Paul's body:"Hey, Ironman. What a funny coincidence. Wanna check out my enlarging device?"

Chris:"Hey, who are you really?"

Paul's body:"We're not suppose to say until we finish, remember? Now come here and show me what is that body made of really"

Oh man. I wonder how Robert is doing in my body nextdoor.

Meanwhile Robert was enjoying a blow job from the mouth of Chris Hemsworth

What a night

Part 2:

[inthedarkshadows000]

SneakPeak#102.......

From the story I might never write

"This is a kitchen knife. You seriously kept a kitchen knife to defend yourself against someone like that." At the sound of a gruff voice a looked in Toji's direction who was moving from behind the desk towards me. He held the bloody knife in his hands like it was normal.

"I didn't know I would need it." I sat straight and replied, offended.

"You did. That is why it was there. You don't normally keep knives on yourself obvious from the lack of proper ones. The fact that you bothered having one here meant you knew this was going to happen." I was at a loss of words. He was right I knew this was gonna happen obviously, I had done my homework on that man.

"Let me rephrase. I hoped I wouldn't need it and that my manipulative skills would be enough to get out of any sticky situation. That was a back up, I agree a shitty one though." I shrugged and relaxed back. No need to go off bonkers here.

"Yeah? How'd that work out for you. If it hadn't been for me pushing out suguru your brains would be splattered on the wall here." He wasn't giving up here, was? Also Awwwwwww. He had moved right behind the coffee table. Suguru still sat between us.

"No. If Suguru hadn't stepped in my plan INITIAL would be ruined but not my beloved face." I got up shakily and moved towards my desk. Bending down to open the last drawer I took out my pack of cigarettes and a lighter.

"I agree I misread how fast his temper would flare up but even in the situation where I would be physically at a disadvantage, I knew how to not die." I continued and went toward the window on the left side of the room.

Drawing the curtains away, I opened the window and lit a cigg. I felt the tension leave my body the moment i inhaled the first drag.

Fucking finally!!!!

"Please enlighten us then." I really didn't like how sarcastic the dilf was. He sounded closer. I looked behind me to see them all getting up and moving towards me.

"I will if you calmed you tits down. Here, catch" I threw something at his face obviously knowing he will  catch it. Frankly I just wanted to get my frustration out.

"Smoking after losing that much isn't the smartest idea." Oh.. Kento my responsible baby!!!

"I know but that stressed the hell out of me. I'll stop if the smoke is an issue though?" I replied suddenly realising how it probably was, I was about to put it out when he shook his head in negative. So I just shrugged and continued.

"You wanted to blackmail him. He was about to kill you anyway taking it out of your dead or alive hands would be literally the same feet for him. An easy one." He gave the recording device to the others after finishing with it and came to stand next to me. Lighting a cigarette himself, he looked at me and gave me a challenging look.

I couldn't help but roll my eyes at how much people could underestimate a person. Inhaling another puff I explained "Actually no that wasn't what I was going to do. Only a dumb ass would be that.... dumb. I was actually gonna make him believe that this entire meeting would automatically go viral if I didn't stop it."

"Would he have believed you could do that?" Asked toru seeming really intrigued by the idea.

"Of course, I am a software engineer, one of the most efficient ones. Why do you think he wants me. Also he knows nothing of modern tech." I smiled cheekily and winked at him. That made him guffaw. Let me just tell you it was the most beautiful sound ever.

"And would it have gone viral?" Toji was still as serious as ever.

Now what HAPPENED to his chill pill attitude.

"Does it really matter all that I had to do was make HIM believe that it would if he didn't leave this room and me unscathed. It's called bluffing. Not to mention that I could always have people actually do that with whatever dirt I have on him if he did harm me." I shrugged looking at him with an attitude and put out my cigg.

In an instant he had his large hand wrapped around my neck and I whimpered being taken off gaurd. "DO NOT give that attitude, little girl. I also don't take people talking down to me lightly, best you remember that."

His grip more like a warning than hurtful and it did nothing but awaken my inner freak and drama queen.

My choke fantasy is finally true!!! 3 more people to go!!!! Cannot believe I can finally tick one off of my list.

"Enough! let go of her this instant." Kento was next to me in an instant, the other too surrounded me. I jutted out my lower lip a little and made my eyes water a tiny bit.

Toji waited a beat and before releasing me and moving back to take a puff of the cigarette, which I had frankly forgotten about, while still maintaining eye contact with me. Kento was glaring at him.

Oh my chivalrous man.

Making sure no one was looking, i let one side of my lip quirk into a tiny smirk. Toji's green eyes grew slightly realising my act. His eyebrow raised, surprised, then a knowing gleam settled into his bright green eyes, impressed.

"Hey, you good?" At suguru's question all eyes were on me and I nodded innocently.

I had to bite my lip to stop my laugh when I saw toji shake his head and turn to look out, silently whispering "Tch, you little minx."

That's right big boy, I got my own powers. I evilly giggled.

[manjiroia]

𝐓𝐎𝐊𝐘𝐎 𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐒 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌 𝐀 𝐅𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐄 𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 ♡ hanma shuji, sano manjiro, ryuguji ken, haitani ran/rindou + haruchiyo sanzu

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ♡ timeskip!characters , fluff , petnames , crack , a little suggestive in hanma's , completely bullshited the coffee names (if they exist already, no they don't ^^)

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 ♡ I AM BACK!!! I'm so sorry for going MIA - this past year has been incredibly rough for me, COVID, dropping out of school, fighting depression suicide and whatnot- but I'm making my return and coming back to tumblr. now, please enjoy ♡

半間 修二 → ᕼᗩᑎᙏᗩ was honestly just chilling, your legs thrown over his lap, one of his giant hands lightly massaging your skin as the other scrolled through his phone. it was at this moment, you decided to ruin the peace ♡

"shuji, do you think you can get me a cinnamon pumpkin treat?"

"..... a fucking what?-"

"it's a coffee! and it's a new menu item at that one café I like... can you get it for me please?"

".. now? but I just got comfortable-" cue your infamous pouting face with puppy eyes

"fine fine- I'm going..."

it was fine, for about 30 minutes- until you got a phone call. "aww baby... you sent me out for a coffee that doesn't exist to play a game? how about we play my favourite game when I get back, hm?"

佐野 万次郎 → ᙏIKᙓY loved cuddling with you when he wasn't busy being the head of a criminal organization. you were his peace throughout everything happening around him- and you never asked for anything. which is why he gives you everything.

"mikey... I'm sorry, but can I get up? I'm thirsty-"

"no. tell me what you want, I'll have someone get it for you. you need to stay here with me."

"but- .... alright.. could I have a spicy apple with a double shot of vanilla? ... it's a coffee-"

"yes. you stay right there- don't move, alright? I'll be right back with it."

needless to say, it was a while till you got that coffee. what didn't take long though was mikey's voice to echo around the place- yelling at the other bonten exec's to 'find the recipe! y/n is thirsty!!'

龍宮寺 堅 → ᗪᖇᗩKᙓᑎ was in the shop, fixing up a bike while you sat pretty on a stool watching him work. it wasn't all bad, you both were spending quality time with each other (and you got to see him flex those nice pair of arms)

"ken.... do you want to take a break? I can go cook something for you?"

"hah? your not going to eat?"

"ah, no- but I am craving something. it's called a Russian twist, apparently it's a coffee-"

"no. your drinking something healthy, lets go eat lunch with water. too much coffee isn't good for you-"

... safe to say, the plan failed- but hey, now your being healthy :]

灰谷 蘭 → ᖇᗩᑎ was happily walking down the halls of the office, another day done- another happy drive home to meet the love-of-his-life and surround them with so much affection. walking out the doors to his car before he's hearing a familiar ringtone, rushedly pulling out his phone from his pockets to pick up your call.

"angel ♡ I'm just outside my car, on my way home now-"

"ran- I'm so sorry, but before you come home- can you get something for me?"

"of course doll, what is it?"

"it's called a surprise sunrise, it's a new coffee at that one place we go to for dates."

"ah, alright. I'll get it for you, I do need payment when I get home though~"

"yeah yeah... I'll see you when you get back then."

motherf*cker actually returns home with a coffee in hand, smiling brightly as he places it right in your hands. also has the gradient of a sunrise in it, 'so, about my payment-' , 'you charmed the baristas, didn't you?'

灰谷 竜胆 → ᖇIᑎᗪOᙀ was bored. insanely bored. the meeting being held had no context, he sat there with nothing to do. sanzu was popping a new pill in his mouth, his brother was talking his ear off- he just wanted an out, and thankfully- as if the heavens had heard him, your name was lighting up as a notif on his screen.

"rindou, baby ^^ are you doing anything right now?"

"no. everyone here is off the rails, please- get me out-"

"well, I do need something... but will mikey allow it? you leaving?"

"obviously yes, he's fine with it" (it wasn't a lie really, he was just sitting at the head of the oval table eating his dorayaki)

"ah, alright- well, I'm busy right now at home with unloading groceries. I completely forgot to get the new coffee I was telling you about, the hazelnut and almond crème? do you think you can go and get it for me?"

"yeah, I can do that. see you soon then" (an out!! yes!! he can get out of the unnecessary meeting and away from his brother!!)

the poor younger haitani... he spent a good 2 hours driving around Tokyo for your coffee, eventually he turned up at the house with a bouquet instead when you opened the door for him 'sorry baby... I couldn't find it.. think you might be able to accept these instead?'

明司 春千�� → Sᗩᑎᘔᙀ was ecstatic, a day off from mikey to spend with his baby? the man couldn't be happier, he had the whole day planned out- solely and all prepared for you.

"ah, wait- can we stop at that café up ahead?"

"no no-! I just saw online somewhere that they're serving a new coffee, called the.. golden pineapple... I think? I wanted to try it-"

"why? do your feet hurt? I can carry you-"

"of course baby, anything for you-"

.... neither of you are allowed back into that café again, apparently sanzu holding the barista at gunpoint was a no-no. man was aggressively pouting for the rest of the day cause he couldn't get you that coffee you wanted :((

𝑟𝑒𝑏𝑙𝑜𝑔𝑠 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑐𝑖𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑑 ♡

[aqg-arts]

Anyone wanna my 2 cents on Jade Shadows?

Spoilers bellow frens ;3

So, right off the bat (before I put my personal personal thoughts out there), we need to acknowledge the criticism and outright discomfort this quest had.

Some of the criticism this quest got is something I can agree with. Specifically; Jade Shadow's needed more time. 100%. Let them cook, or more importantly, let the story cook and maybe even burn a bit to give us some crispy, smokin hot parts.

The little footnote at the end of the quest saying we have 'more questions than answers'? We get it, you're self-conscious, but that doesn't give you an excuse for not giving me Stalker. PERIOD, BITCH.

Jest aside, srsly, we needed to know more about Jade, Stalker, what happened to them, baby Orion (Halo possessed me in that moment, iykyk), etc. People needed to get invested in the characters, especially because this is a quest so close to being like Sacrifice on its level of storytelling...

Had it been able to have just 30+ minutes longer.

Onto the 2nd part of the criticism, birthing sim:

I'll be honest, as someone who was thinking of even going into being a midwifery/allied health, it didn't freak me out as much as it did others. But that's just one side of it. The other is how people say Jade's agency was ignored.

I'll be honest, this is just wrong. It's not media illiteracy by any means, but rather pure ignorance. Why?

Because her agency is declared.

When?

"... you're going to be a father." OH, and the fact she literally wanted the baby. There are plenty of people who can explain it better than that, and whilst I acknowledge people may feel this way, this was, in fact, not what happened.

Also, this quest is not pro-life, nor is it anything related to that. If it was, I assure you, you would have a majority of the fan base up and walk. Take a chill pill. If you want to attack something for being pro-life, go help out at an abortion clinic with crowd control or smth. Because once you see that, you'll understand just how wrong you are.

It's not subtle.

It's not in between the lines.

It doesn't exist.

The end. Period. Fullstop.

The criticism is fair, but going so far as to say those are the undertones is just not on. Not only are you lying about something, but you are also disrespecting the very real women whom have had their agency denied in one way or another.

Now, that's not the only criticism about it, but those are just a few things you may see floating on tumblr. Again, both are ok and fair. But when you start to spread lies or ignore what actually happened, you're part of the problem, not the solution.

Now, onto the fun stuff!

Imo, aside from what was stated before, the quest was actually pretty fun and interesting. The pair make an interesting concept, especially now with the lil fugly bean, which has stolen a place in my cold, brainrotted heart. I think I like the Corpus Cap the most- pls marry me, pls. Oh, an Hunhow? Let me hug him. Let me give him a home on my ships. Let me tell him he can be my bestie!!!

Back to Stalker, though, I really hope we see more of him, especially now he's git a VA.

Speaking of, homie didn't get to speak often, but God did it hit home when he did. You can feel how desperate he is, then when he gets his answers, how lost he is. Finally, resolution and love ehen he names his lil kid at the end.

Music was on point, too. I can't listen to it tho bc Ik ima be sobbing lol. It was so beautiful!!!!!!!

Lorewise, however, I have so many fucking questions, but in the funny haha/good way.

Was jade pregnant b4 being a wf? If not, Stalker...

Why was their relationship shamed upon? Was Jade a Dax and him, well, him? Or was it because they weren't married? What was it that made the Orokin make em into Warframes? Also, Ballas, man, we know your hypocritical ass is in this shit too.

Also, Umbra and Helminth are confirmed to roam around the Orbiter, and vc Umbra is my main, this is a personal achievement. Now let us see it happen, and I'll be DE's 4 life.

But seriously, TL;DR:

Jade Shadow's was a good quest, it just needed to cook slightly longer. And, until we get more Umbra x Stalker from DE (bros b4 all), I'll be on AO3 in 3 (maybe 4) tags.

See in the next Stalker stan post :)

[sunflowersandsapphires]

Injured HCs

The lovely @mattkinsella asked me to write more HCs about how the boys react when you’re injured! (And I included small thing about them being injured too tee hee)

Frank:

When he’s injured, he will hide it. Same with being sick. He’s worked through worse, there’s no reason to get upset about it. 

He trusts you to stitch him up tho, and that means a lot. 

Matt

Doesn’t necessarily try to hide it, but will not stop to rest. Might ask you for help meditating. Accepts coddling, but will get defensive if you ask him to rest. 

Mikey

Not a drama queen, but much less averse to resting than the other two. Like in my illness HCs, I think he would be perfectly content letting you take the reigns and leaning into his time off. Adores that he has someone there to help him. 

Frank

If you’re injured? Oh boy. 

Very demanding. Leaves no room for argument. (Just hands you stuff, doesn’t even ask.)

“Frank, I’m—“ “Take the damn pills, doll.” 

Trusts himself and Curtis ONLY to stitch you up, 

Definitely not happy that you’re injured/comfortable with it, but he’s the most chill of the 3. (This is not saying much.)

If someone intentionally harmed you, they’ve sealed their fate. He will wait until you’re sleeping peacefully to take care of the problem tho. 

If your injury is because of an accident (clumsiness, general misfortune, etc) rather than a person intentionally hurting you, he’s a bit less intense. 

Once the initial shock of your injury has worn off, he will tease you about it, if it makes you laugh. 

“Careful, babygirl. Ya sure you’re ready to handle those evil stairs again?”

Relatively realistic about the severity of injuries, depending on the reaction of his partner. 

Like he won’t freak out over a paper cut if you don’t want him to. He’s perfectly willing to kiss it better if you ask tho. 

Matt:

The LEAST chill of the three. 

Treats a paper cut with the same severity as a broken limb. 

Though, I can’t imagine how scary it would be to smell your partner bleeding or hurt. Like that has to set off alarm bells regardless. 

Soooooo protective. Glued to your side immediately, practically snarling at anyone who gets too close. 

Won't let you lift so much as a FINGER if you don’t have to. 

Panics a little and offers you all of the options until you help him calm down. 

“Do you need painkillers? Or an ice pack? Or something to eat? Why don’t we take a nap or—“ “Matty, breathe. It’s just a pulled muscle.  I’m ok, love.” 

Will absolutely kiss it better and would prefer to do so. 

Tries to teach you to meditate to heal faster, but you keep giggling and turning to press kisses to his cheeks and neck, so he gives up. 

I think he would want to take time off from both his day job and deviling, but would ultimately compromise by splitting his time between all three of you, unless you really needed his company. 

Mikey:

So soft, the softest guy. 

More concerned with what you want than what he thinks you need. 

“How can I help ya, pet? Tell me whatcha need me to do.” 

Unlike Frank, he does NOT trust himself to assist and would much rather take you to a medical professional. 

Asks so many follow up questions after the doctor examines you to make sure to get everything right. 

I feel like he’d take notes on his phone or in a physical notebook even. He’s SO worried he’s going to fuck it up. 

Very hesitant to leave you alone, in case you need something. 

Regularly checks in on how you’re feeling, willing to help however he can. If you need cuddles, he’s wrapped around you before you can even finish the request. Looking for company on your walk to work or while running errands? He’s there with a smile on his face. 

Tbh this doesn’t only happen when you’re injured, I think he would take every available opportunity to spend time with you, but he will prioritize you to a higher degree when you’re sick or injured. 

Will tease you if you ask him to kiss something better, but only because he thinks it’s adorable to make you squirm. 🥹

[dirty-bear-rick-sanchez]

Episode thoughts under the cut

I loved Morty knowing Rick so well that he just straight up lies about the coffee lmao. Also the way he says 'hey buddy' like he's a dad entering his kid's room when they're in a depressive episode is so funny to me

Rick just literally saying 'family' to address the family

I thought the ghost/unfinished business joke was funny

I also love Rick being so petty (and Summer being petty back about the portal). It's so funny that he just calls the family 'stupids' as well. Devastating insult bro

Interesting that Gearhead was the first person he went to? He definitely needed someone to give him the courage to get the rest of his friends for an intervention (especially BP)

'Told you he wasn't dead' killed me

BIRDDAUGHTER. Funny name, love her being an emo teenage edgelord who just goes round killing Gromflomites. 'This is worse than prison'? Love it

Also I really liked that we got to see this side of BP's character this episode? He's so funny and I love getting to see him be a shit. Him trying to parent his daughter and just drinking wine? We love another alcoholic girldad

I really liked getting to see Rick/BP/Squanchy actually hanging out as well? I feel like it's a good insight into how they probably were back in the Flesh Curtains days

I like the 'birthday, birthday, birthday' gag

Also Rick immediately being like 'fuck this we're getting wrecked'

The honey scene was definitely for the Rickfuckers

Can we talk about the fact that Rick was definitely trying to impress BP by bringing up the fact that he hosted the Oscars? Which is definitely why he wanted that gig in the first place

Once again I love getting to see this side of Birdperson. Definitely makes sense why he and Rick get on so well

I liked the visual gag of Rick being high

Also BP and Squanchy playing the knife game lmao

Rick sits so fucking dramatically

Look at BP's face, he definitely wants to fuck that Predator guy

Son heist

I love that Rick can immediately identify Squanchy's shit based on the smell? Like he knows it's his and no one else's

BIRDPERSON PUTTING HIS HAND OVER RICK'S MOUTH

(You know Rick is gonna be thinking about that forever)

I like the recurring Squanchy tooth thing

'Why is this my thing' lmao

Poor poopy child

WAYNE

Them all just chilling together waiting for their drunk food? love it

I love BP leaving to collect his daughter from attacking a Federation outpost with the exact same energy as a parent collecting their child from school after they got suspended. It's so funny to imagine the GF having the same sort of vibe as they do with Rick and just texting BP like 'yo we got your daughter here' (I know that's not what happened but it's a funny mental image)

Lmao Squanchy

I did like the fading pill bit

Poor Gene

Overall I liked getting to explore this aspect of the dynamic between Rick/BP/Squanchy/Gearhead (+ the others of course but they're the OGs yk?) and also the concept of intervention/alcoholism. I think it's interesting to see that Rick does want to help but his support system is so fucked that this ends up happening and it makes a lot of sense when it comes to his own issues. I really like the way they handle Rick trying to get better and do the right thing but struggling so much to break out of unhealthy behaviours/habits. He's painfully aware of how fucked up he is and how much of a bad influence he is but he doesn't know how to fix the issue/be a positive influence and he definitely views abandonment as a good thing because he's removing himself from the situation. Very interesting way to explore this aspect of his issues, especially since all his friends are also alcoholics with that level of denial/refusal to get better

I had this discussion with @hazelnut-u-out before the episode aired but I do like that they're showing Mr PB directly suffering as a result of Rick's actions in canon? Considering that he started as a joke/meta character it's very interesting to show him actually shifting to more of a serious character who appears in the actual show and experiences real issues, especially since the show becomes less and less sitcom-y as Rick becomes more aware of the reality of how fucked up all of these things are.

[anonymous-dentist]

Okokokok I need some help understanding something and you’re a writer so I trust your judgement. I keep trying except I’m just making myself more upset. I just want to start enjoying the new story with everyone like normal

In a story, how do you take revenge against something/someone with plot amor?

I feel like the revenge>failure>anger>revenge cycle would get a bit repetitive right?

I’m just trying to think of this in term of story and character development and I’m failing to grasp how this will work in a way that’s productive

I think that the events over the past few weeks or so are meant to show that the Federation doesn't have as much plot armor as you think it does. Because it's spread so fucking thin right now between the kidnapping of Ron and the murders and the dark matter and the Mini-Mes getting taken and the eggs and the president going missing. They don't know what's going on and the workers are scared and in hiding and literally only Foolish is chill right now, and that's because he's become such a good spy that even the "higher ups" love him. He's currently in the process of doing what Cellbit spent months trying to do, and he's going to succeed.

But this isn't about the Federation, it's about Cucurucho, aka the thing Cellbit really wants to destroy even if he's telling everyone , who was apparently proven to not even be a part of the Federation at all today! Apparently, the Census Bureau isn't a Federation employee like. At All.

So this begs the question: how do you kill a God?

The answer is that... well, you don't. Not when you're Cellbit, and that's exactly the point of what he's doing now. He's not going after Cucurucho specifically for a reason: he knows he can't win. Which is why he's going after the regular workers first. That way, he can start dismantling the Federation from the outside as others dismantle it from the inside (he knows about Fit being a spy, and he technically knows about Foolish even if he doesn't believe him all the way.)

We all think the Federation has plot armor, but it really doesn't! All things considered, the islanders have won against it several times! Between the eggs basically going rogue and breaking whatever programming they were under as Federation creations to get attached to their parents, ElQuackity the Federation Plant losing the election due to islanders' interference, Cellbit keeping the Federation from killing him by killing himself, the Mini-Mes being stolen, Pac and Mike escaping prison, Felps and Cellbit escaping their prison, Baghera escaping the island in the first place, the islanders becoming friends with several workers to the point of said workers defecting from the Federation, Forever and Pac being freed from the influence of the Happy Pills, and literally everything Fit and Foolish have managed to do while undercover, we've seen the Federation lose, and I think we forget about all of this because, well. It is Torture Island.

The plot armor here isn't necessarily the Federation's. It's Cucurucho's, and it's Cellbit's real target. But he knows he can't do anything to it yet, and so he's going for everything around it, and then, when he's strong enough or whatever, he's going to go for Cucurucho itself, and he's made it bleed before, actually, way back during the first Hide and Seek game day. He's just waiting for another opportunity, and he's waiting very patiently. (LOL)

It looks hopeless now, but this is legitimately day one of the arc. It's no use doomposting or anything when we haven't seen who's gonna help Cellbit out, because we know that some of the strongest people on the island possibly would. Like Etoiles, who legit doesn't give a fuck about killing Federation workers because he did quite literally kill like 20 in ten minutes or so, EZ. And Roier, who is genuinely one of the strongest non-Etoiles pvpers on the island. And Maxo, who has a literal nuclear bomb.

My advice as a writer? Just chill and don't think about it too much. I can see how awesome this arc is going to be because Cellbit is an EXCELLENT storyteller. It's not worth worrying about when we don't even know all the factors in play yet.

[leonenjoyer69]

It has been demanded of me to drop everything I had made for an unshared BMC x TGS AU I thought up back in March :3 I honestly don't remember much of it, but I apparently wrote a shit ton, so here's that straight from my drafts and writing app--

First! The original Tumblr draft!:

Guys guys, hear me out, TGS "Be More Chill" AU thingy.

Hyde is Jekylls SQUIP, and boy is he defective. Self loathing is of course still in order, but also he's constantly telling Jekyll to do really impulsive things. Oh, this guys being an asshole? PUNCH HIS ASS JEKYLL! holy shit, hot theatre boy Lanyon? Kiss him kiss him ASK HIM OUT YOU WUSS-

Hyde SQUIP doesn't want complete world control via SQUIPs tho bc all the other ones are too "boring", he just kinda wants to do whatever and "fix" this really nerdy Scottish boy.

And then, what I had in my writing app (which was a lot jfc):

TGS au that is vaguely inspired by BMC >:3

Henry and Robert share a dorm room at this university (Henry is big gay for Lanyon ofc). At this University, Jekyll has created this science club, Students for Arcane Science (of course there's also all sorts of mythical curiosities in this world, so it's still got all the ghosts and creatures and werewolves) with the help of Dr Maijabi (who's a teacher in this mayhaps, otherwise itd be Mrs Frankenstein). This club is just to bring people who are very passionate about their scientific fields together to talk and share experiments and things, and to perhaps do experiments together. One day, someone in passing (perhaps Pennebrygg) mentions this odd new Japanese technology to Jekyll, since he's so enraptured by chemistry and matters of the mind and soul, and Jekylls nerd ass immediately wants to know more about it. So, being the science-driven guy he is, he immediately sets out to get his hands on one to try, because hey, maybe this cool little pill will give him the confidence to actually ask out Lanyon and to make other people like him more. Too bad he gets a defective one. He doesn't know that though! So, of course his first course of action is to absolutely grill this SQUIP thing-- who so quickly insisted that he was to be called Hyde (what an odd name for this oddly dressed lad)-- on how he worked (I like to think Jekylls Scottish accent slips out more when he gets enthusiastic or when he's rushing, Lanyon has to remind him a lot to "speak English"). Hyde doesn't really care to answer most of these questions, but he relents on one condition, that Jekyll shuts the fuck up long enough for him to make it home so he's not caught talking to himself like a maniac in public. So, cue a montage of Jekyll barely containing his wonder and excitement as this brash little creature walking beside him (Hyde doesn't like being locked away in the mind, so hes persistent about keeping a physical manifestation of himself if able) explains how he was created (well, to the extent hes allowed to). Eventually though, he gets kinda bored and just begins poking fun at Jekyll and the people they come across, running around doing silly things that he knows only Jekyll can see, and Jekyll kinda gets a kick out of it. Eventually they make it back to Jekylls dorm, where Lanyons just lazing around. (Im unsure if Jekyll  should reveal that he got the SQUIP to Lanyon or if it should be kept a secret from him, since he wants to use it to get with him and all). Hyde probably makes some quip about Jekyll having good taste or something, studying Lanyon super closely. Jekyll gets super flustered and kinda runs off to somewhere where he can talk to Hyde one on one. When talking, Jekyll reveals what he wants help with: 1. Getting with Lanyon, and 2. Just being able to fit in more and get people to actually like him. Hyde agrees (of course, he doesn't have much else of a choice considering he's bound to this nerd now) and starts coming up with increasingly wild and morally questionable plans.

Hyde's whole thing is that he's defective- not in a "I wanna take over this place/the world", but in more of a way where he wants to live vicariously through Henry. He can't live his own life because of what he is, and for some reason, despite how he was supposed to be created, he's less "calm, calculated computer" and more "impulsive spit fire". He feels things that he's probably not supposed to, but hey, that's not for him to dwell on. (It'd be really cool if at some point Henry tried giving Hyde his own body, mayhaps either with Mr Tanis, Pennebrygg, or Frankensteins help) so, Hyde let's this impulsivity guide him through "helping" Henry, which makes Henry's control and ability to ignore the increasingly wild things Hyde tells him to say or do (for example, telling him to punch a fellow student for looking at him snide, or to tell Lanyon that his smile is beautiful)

____

Yeah, clearly more inspired by BMC than like, a straight kinda insert AU, but idk thinking on it now it could definitely be changed a decent bit to fit BMC more. But!!! There's that, to the people that were curious lmao

[tempest-ghoulette]

Autumn in Jackson

Just morning cuddles with Tess as the weather changes in Jackson

Warnings: None

Word Count: 390

A/N: Hello everyone and welcome to my first?(technically second) Tess fic. This came to me while writing something else for Tess so technically my second fic for her and uhh be on the watch for that fic(if someone wants to beta read just ask). Uhhh yeah Anna Torv as Tess has sucked me back in and this time I’m writing for her. Please bear with me as usually when I write it’s for class so yeah feedback is appreciated and I hope you enjoy😊. Oh also shout out to my friend @booksooks for proofreading this thanks pookie.

Autumn was your favorite time of year. When the weather finally cooled off enough to where you wouldn’t be sweating your ass off, but still warm enough to where you wouldn’t freeze to death. You never really got to enjoy the change in weather during your time in the Boston QZ, too busy with selling shipments of pills to gather more ration cards and supplies for the upcoming winters.

Since making the move to Jackson two years prior you didn’t have to worry about any of that anymore. You could just enjoy the weather with your little family. Taking Ellie to the little fair that Jackson hosted, you and Ellie both pestering Joel to carry the biggest pumpkin so you could carve it later, and the best of all, snuggling with Tess in front of the fire.

You're brought out of your reverie as a chill shakes your frame, snuggling more into the blankets and turning yourself into the warmth of the body next to you. You start to bury your face into the crook of Tess’s neck when she mumbles sleepily “your nose is fucking freezing” her voice raspy and low with the remnants of sleep still clinging on.

“It’s not my fault, if I’d known I would’ve worn warmer clothes to bed” you mumble as you try and wiggle closer.

“I told you the weather was gonna turn” she states matter of factly. You scoff trying again to snuggle closer “what did your knees tell you that?” you reply sarcastically. She gives you a look of mock hurt “haha very funny” as she finally relents and pulls you closer.

You both lay there for a couple minutes, basking in the silence before breaking it “what time do we have to be up for patrol?” you feel her shift to look over your shoulder at the clock on the nightstand, “not for a couple more hours baby” settling back into bed and nuzzling into your hair.

“Mmmmm, next time I suggest we do early patrol smack me” you feel her frame shake as she lets out a tired chuckle. “Go back to sleep baby” you snuggle even closer, practically wrapping yourself around her “mmm love you Tessa” you feel a kiss pressed to your head and a faint love you too as you drift off back to sleep.