#started thinking about this earlier because

[cazort]

so i picked the 10 years younger one and my reasoning is that this is worth WAAAAY more than the $1M dollar one because think like this:

your legal age would stay the same, right?

so you could retire at the same age, start drawing SS and such, but you'd live an average of 10 years longer so you'd make out like a bandit on SS.

but if you live frugally and invest, you'd probably end up with a lot of compounding wealth. i have a lot of money stashed away in a Roth IRA. yes, i'd have to withdraw that money, but there's no rule saying i'd have to SPEND it. so it could compound more. because i was 10 years younger i would probably have less in the way of medical expenses too. so i'd end up with WAAAAY more income in my (now healthier) old age. there's no way i don't come out ahead by much more than $1M when you factor in how frugal people like me tend to get much richer in old age and your hardest years finacially are usually your earlier ones

but it's not just the money. there's great wisdom and experience and knowledge that comes with age. being able to live 10 years longer and in good health would be an incredible boon. i can't even comprehend the mental benefits. i'd be able to accomplish a lot more.

and then on top of that, being healthier in the here and now? wow wow wow, talk about benefits. like i'd be in better shape immediately.

it's just the best option.

either that or kill Elon Musk. i seriously considered it.

but here's the thing, and here's why i didn't pick that. he's gonna meet his demise, possibly soon if enough people boycott and divest from Tesla. and there are other shitty billionaires in the world. there is only one me and i'm already doing big things and i think i would rather be able to do all the extra things i could do with that extra 10 years and improved physical health, than i would be to eliminate one guy i don't like who at least half the whole world is already trying to keep in check

(also feel free in the tags to clarify Why you made the choice you made!! :0c)

[zepskies]

Welp, I think tumblr ate my earlier ask so happy Friday! You've survived the week! For your random question, because a lot of our fellas have had...displaced lives, what do you think the boys' ideal homes would be? Big, small, grand, cozy, city, country? 🤔

Oh yeah I didn't get an ask before now, but Happy Friday my beautiful friend! Yes thank God we survived lmao. You already know work has been doing my head in. 🙃

Ooooh what an interesting question! I'm thinking by "boys" you mean our favorite Jackles characters...

HEADCANON: What Dean Winchester, Beau Arlen, Soldier Boy (Ben), and Russell Shaw's ideal homes would be.

Dean Winchester

Dean's not one for big cities. Too many people, too much for him, honestly.

So if he ever left the bunker, say with you by his side, I think he'd be happy with a cozy cabin somewhere. It would have to be big enough for Miracle - Dean could do little hikes with him in the woods. Oh, and one or two extra rooms. Just in case you really want to take advantage of breaking away from hunting, and in his words:

"Maybe...you know...start on Phase 2 of this whole retirement gig. Start a family."

There would also be a nice fireplace and a comfy couch for you to hook him into some late night cuddling (and probably some slow, hot sex by the fire).

Beau Arlen

I see a lovely ranch-style house for Beau. 🥰 Moderately sized, but still spacious and open, with a nice big living room and a couple of guest rooms, plus Emily's room, of course. If you and Beau get surprised with more kids in the future, you guys are prepared to fill those rooms with more joy and chaos.

And if Friday movie night is going to continue, he needs a nice big TV in the living room (or an old school projector).

Soldier Boy (Ben)

Oh, this guy. 😅

We all know he wants the biggest, gaudiest house he can afford. If just because that's what he's used to. He's been surrounded by opulence and the comforts wealth can provide since he was born, and that didn't stop when he got to Vought.

However, provided he went through some character growth through a meaningful relationship with you, he could be hooked into a nice brownstone apartment in NYC. But he would probably insist on having a vacation house somewhere -- like a colonial style house or a nice beach house to escape the city when it gets too much.

(He'd insist on "christening" every room.)

Russell Shaw

Hmm, this guy I could see not being fussed about the size of the place or the location, as long as it's comfortable and homey with you. Because the thing is, he hasn't really had a home since he left his family when he was a teenager.

He's spent decades in the service, and years more on the road, bouncing from motel to motel between contract jobs. He would probably say what the other guys inherently feel -- that you're his home. You're his peace.

AN: What do you think @luci-in-trenchcoats? Did you imagine any of these guys differently? 😘💜

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[written-and-readen]

imagine your making out with anaxa and your brother (Mydei or Phainon your choice not mine) walked in at the worst time?

Interrupted at the Worst Time

Anaxa x reader

Summary: Phainon is becoming a nuisance to Anaxa. First, interrupting his date with you and now...

a/n: Getting caught has to be one of my favorite things to write

"Kiss?" You tap your lips with a finger. Anaxa raises a brow at your signal.

"No, we're in public." He continues walking. Indeed, the two of you are strolling through Marmoreal Market, but it's not that busy. Despite knowing Anaxa isn’t the biggest fan of PDA, you thought he might give you a quick peck if you asked nicely.

"Awww, fine." Anaxa takes your hand in his as some sort of compensation. His eye watches the way your lips pout, already letting his imagination run wild with how they’d feel against his. Of course he wants to kiss you. The problem is he might want it too much. He’s not about to draw everyone’s attention just because he can’t hold back and ends up making out with you in the middle of Okhema.

A shout of your name diverts your attention, and you're searching around for the familiar voice.

“Phainon!” You spot your brother in the crowd, waving at the snowy haired Chrysos Heir.

“Ah, there you are! And with Professor Anaxa…” Phainon’s tone goes flat upon seeing your hands locked together. He’s always been protective over you. After the destruction of Aedes Elysiae, the only thing you have left of your hometown is each other. At the same time, Anaxa’s hold on you tightens.

“Where are you headed?” You ask, hoping to ease the animosity somewhat.

“I was going to see if Theodoros has any new antiques.” His voice is cheerful again once he turns to you.

“Sounds fun!” You reply in a nearly identical chipper tone.

“Yeah, have fun with that,” Anaxa deadpans, peeved at having his time with you interrupted. Just as the conversation has started he's already pulling you away. For a scholar, he’s stronger than he looks, and you’re forced to stumble after him.

“I’ll see you later I guess!” You say over your shoulder to Phainon who’s back to glaring daggers at your boyfriend.

“What was that for?” Anaxa says nothing, continuing to string you along until you reach a more secluded alley in Okhema. You find your back hitting a wall and the scholar's hand placed next to your head.

"What...?" The words die in your throat when you realize just how close he is as he leans towards you.

"You said you wanted a kiss, right?" You can feel his breath against your lips.

"Yeah..." You affirm before he closes the distance. The insistent press of his lips has your knees weak, but when you go to lean back against the wall, Anaxa's hand catches your waist, pulling you into his chest instead. It's not the kiss you had imagined when you requested it, but you're certainly not complaining. When you part for air, Anaxa takes a good look at your flushed face, faintly smirking at his handiwork.

"Did you want to take this somewhere more private?" You ask, once again becoming cognizant of where you are. It's clear you both want more from the way you tug on the edge of his jacket and how his hands still hold your hips against his.

It's a desperate run through the streets of Okhema back to your house. You slam the door to your room seconds before Anaxa claims your lips again. You manage to slip his jacket off, tossing it aside to a chair before he backs you into the bed.

As you fall into the mattress, the kiss is broken, and Anaxa climbs on top of you. You think he's about to say something with the way his eye takes you in, seemingly studying every feature of your face with quiet contemplation. Instead, his lips collide with yours again.

You smile as his hair hangs down to brush against your cheeks, hands going to card through the turquoise strands. For someone who didn't seem interested in kissing you at all earlier, he's pretty eager once you're alone, effectively stealing your breath over and over.

The two of you don't even notice how you fall into a rhythm until it's broken by the door being flung open. Phainon was probably checking to see if you'd returned from your date with his professor, not expecting to find you beneath said professor. Your eyes are just as wide as your brother's at his intrusion. On the other hand, Anaxa is sending a glare equivalent to pointing his gun at Phainon's forehead.

"Out," You and Anaxa say at the same time, you more understanding yet insistent and him more commanding but both equally breathless. Without a word, your brother does as told and closes the door. Your body relaxes once it's shut.

"Annoying," Anaxa scoffs. You rub soft circles into his shoulder as if that's going to soften his anger (it does).

"We'll lock the door next time," You assure him with a smile that has him wanting to kiss you until he goes stupid. So, he leans down to reconnect your lips, and you melt underneath him again. With how lost both of you become in one another, neither of you remembers to lock the door.

[merakiui]

OTL I can't stop thinking about being too pregnant to reach down to masturbate but being really horny so you need to beg your captor (Floyd, Jade, or Azul) to help you

AAAAAA YES OMG,,, is it really worth it to seek out your captor for something like that? But you’re so unbelievably horny and sensitive, and you can’t reach between your legs to solve the problem because of how embarrassingly gravid you’ve become,, it’s too much work and effort to rub yourself against the pillows, and even the soft fabric of your blouse brushing against your braless nipples has you growing hot. It doesn’t help that this bed smells like him and if you close your eyes he’s all you can picture. >_< you’re so frustrated that it actually prompts angry tears that cling to your lashes and slip down your cheeks in hot streams. As soon as he steps into the room and sees the state you’re in, he’s immediately concerned.

Azul is at your side in an instant, fretting over you like he often does. “My dear, is everything okay? Do you feel sick? What’s the matter? You can tell me,” he babbles, reaching to dry your tears. For once you don’t have the energy to smack his arm away, so he cradles your face and swipes your tears away. He’s become accustomed to your mood swings since you first started showing. This pregnancy has been an…experience for both of you, to put it gently. ;;;

You sink against the pillows in a childish huff, your cheeks puffed out. Azul has to tamp down the fond smile that threatens to break out on his face. You’re so precious and you don’t even realize it.

“I hate you,” you cry, spreading your legs for him to see the wetness soaking through your panties, and immediately he knows you don’t mean it. “It’s all your fault. Take responsibility.”

It takes him a second to process your request, but he’s shrugging his jacket off and climbing into bed with you. Sympathy softens his face. “Oh, darling, were you suffering like this all day? I’m sorry I wasn’t here earlier to help you, but I’m here now.” He leans in to kiss your cheek, two fingers pressing against your clothed cunt, while the other comes to rest upon your bump. “You’ll feel better soon.”

Annoyingly enough, he’s right. You hate that.

- - -

Floyd floats into the room with a tray piled high with brunch. He cooks in excess to compete with your ravenous appetite, a firm believer that you should always eat your fill—even more so now that you’re pregnant. You were scared of him in the beginning, but he’s proven to be so good at melting down the vitriol in your scowl, the tension in your body, that now you just sulk. He speaks to you and the baby so sweetly, so sometimes you wonder why you’re even fighting him most days.

You have good and bad days, each punctuated with moments of what Floyd has taken to calling “the shallows” and “the sea trenches.” Today errs on the side of the latter, deep and dark and cold. You’ve tossed all the pillows on the floor in your tantrum and now you lay on your back, arms and legs spread out like a (very pregnant) sea star.

Floyd sets the tray down and peers at you from the end of the bed. His expression is painfully neutral. Last time you threw a fit and he smiled at you, and you proceeded to throw an even bigger fit over that. So now he’s learned to take everything in patient, careful strides. He notices your miserable expression and waits for the accompanying complaint.

“This body is the worst,” you spit after a bottomless silence.

“Why do ya say that?” he asks, slinking over to the bedside. He lowers to kneel there, resting his hand just close enough. A supportive offering. You surprise him when your fingers curl around his and hold tight. Two-toned eyes flick up to meet yours.

“Because,” you carry on, drawing out that word in a whine.

“Because…?” he prompts.

“Because it gets like this all the time and I can’t do anything about it because this dumb bump gets in the way of everything!”

At first, he’s not sure what you mean by that. But then you’re pulling on his arm, and he rises to his feet to behold you, warm with want and arousal, and suddenly he can’t stop the slimy smile from spreading.

“Shrimpy’s so pretty. Nothin’ dumb or terrible about ya.”

All you can manage is a feeble scoff. “Just…make it go away.”

You don’t have to tell him twice.

- - -

There’s nothing worse than asking Jade Leech for help because he knows how to make even the simplest of questions feel so burdensome. You think you’d rather shrivel up and disappear before you willingly ask him for his assistance. So you spend half your day ignoring the itch, attempting to smother it with boring thoughts, but there’s a very obvious wetness between your thighs and it’s becoming unbearable. You want to orgasm and then nap the rest of this funky mood off. >:/

So you’re horrified when you find Jade in the doorway, watching you struggle to ride the sheets and pillows. Immediately you feel pathetic and you snap at him to get out, to go away, to die ten times.

“Is that really what you want?” he asks, his voice a soft, unbothered curl. You can hear the mischief that’s undoubtedly brightening his eyes. “Will that make you happy?”

What really chews at you is that he knows. He always knows, but he never says it. He wants to hear it from your mouth, and you refuse to beg.

You’re in no mood to argue or play his silly games.

“Just get in here,” you mutter, unable to look at him because you can feel him looking right at you. In fact, you’re the only thing in his sights as he steps into the room, calm and calculated like a cat.

“Help me,” you add because he’s just standing there, like a butler awaiting an order.

Jade blinks back at you. “With what? You’ll need to be more specific, (Name).”

You grit your teeth. “You know.”

He tilts his head. “Do I?”

“I… I can’t.” You struggle around the admission. “Can’t…reach.” You gesture pitifully to your bump and hope he understands.

Immediately, his gaze sticks to your thighs, so any reticence he might’ve had curated for this moment is rendered meaningless.

“And what would you like me to do about it?”

You’re sick of this stupid tiptoeing. “I want you to stop talking! Put that energy somewhere else.” You throw a pillow at him, which he catches easily.

“You’re too nice to me,” he prattles on anyway. “To give me such a treat even when you think me undeserving.”

You can’t get much of anything out when he’s on the bed, helping to prop you up so that he can spread your legs and duck between them. The rest of your hatred is curbed when he peels your sodden panties down and leans in to lick a stripe up your slick, sensitive pussy.

You want to smother him between your legs, but he’d just enjoy that. And then you wouldn’t even get to climax. Sigh. </3 you have to give him credit. He’s very good with that troublesome mouth of his.

[captain-kit-adventuress]

op, i am not calling you out. you're not wrong. but everyone needs to know:

this did not start in 2000.

this started (in earnest) in 1968 when richard nixon won the presidential election. it really kicked off when watergate, one of the largest proven criminal breaches of any president up until that time, went down and basically nothing happened to him. sure, he didn't get to be the president anymore, but 1) it looked like he chose to leave, but it was only to avoid impeachment and expulsion because there was absolutely no way he had the votes in the house or the senate to avoid forcible removal; 2) his own original vice president, spiro agnew, was convicted on prior charges from his home state of maryland of bribery and other corruption-type offenses and was replaced by gerald ford, who later pardoned nixon (though agnew certainly would have too); 3) between all of the evidence collected in the investigation into watergate and spiro agnew's own troubles, it was revealed that nixon ran a hugely corrupt administration beginning with himself and ending...somewhere much farther down the line.

and as for the president being above the law? an idea seeded by nixon himself in the famous interview he did with david frost, in defence of his own actions during his time in office. all the supreme court really did was pick up what he laid down.

now, a lot of nixon's policies themselves were successful, and they weren't necessarily bad for the country, but that was only because democrats controlled both chambers of congress and nixon had been in politics a long time, he was no idiot and he knew he had to give dems at least some of what they wanted to avoid having no accomplishments in office, and gridlocking the government, which would have been hugely upsetting at that time to the status quo and might have led to the american people discovering his corruption even earlier. and all of this, from the time that nixon took the oath of office until the day he left on august 9, 1972, was three years. that's it. he destroyed much of presidential precedent for corruption in just three years. trump 1.0 is probably still quicker than that, but not by like, a ton. there's a lot more i could say about nixon, especially like how he ran as a peacemaker and his 'law and order' campaign that is credited with winning him the white house, but this is far too long already.

that all set the stage for one of the worst administrations to ever happen to this nation, ronald fucking reagan, and we still are only scratching the surface of undoing what he and his unelected cronies all did--and it's important to note that the alzheimer's affected him far earlier than the nation ever suspected or was told about, so basically we did not know who was actually running the country for nearly 8 years--bush 41 basically maintained the status quo reagan left.

and then we get to bush 43. as i very clearly stated at the beginning, op, you're not at all wrong to suggest his administration did a lot of work to pave the way to trump, especially in policy. that is the truth, but it is the recent truth. without nixon and reagan, bush 43 can't happen in the way that it does.

i think you're also remiss not to point out how much control of this congress had, as well, because they are in the legislative branch and therefore in control of the laws like the PATRIOT act and all that. but it was nixon who devolved a lot of federal power in the '70s to the states, and without that move, state legislatures wouldn't have begun their big push to turn a lot of liberalising states rightward.

republicans have been laying the groundwork in one way or another for over sixty years now. i don't think a lot of people understand how very much the kennedy boys (especially bobby) scared the shit out of the gop, especially because the south was still pretty solidly blue at that point. they saw how quickly the country was liberalising, they saw Blacks and other people of colour just starting to gain footholds, and they could not have it because it threatened the entrenched power structures they all headed up, so instead of just going along with it and adapting like sane human beings, they totally turned away from democracy and toward fascism.

and don't ever forget how much money plays a role in this too, that they were funded by very rich people who did not like democratic fiscal policy or tax policies because it would take away tiny amounts of their vast wealth and help poor people and by god, we couldn't have that. the very last thing they wanted was a return to eisenhower-era levels of taxation, especially on passive income.

i am pointing out all of this, though, to show that much of what is politics today got rolling long before many of us were born, and it behooves us as citizens to learn our history to become better at preventing it repeating in the future. and i also want to remind everyone that it was failures of not just politicians, but well-placed citizens who resided on both sides of the ideological divide, who failed the american people by being totally shitty and enabling politicians to get away with a lot of their shenanigans.

the george w bush administration laid so much of the groundwork for the way trump's white house is currently operating. none of this would have been possible without a bunch of agencies and "national security" (aka enabling) acts that concentrate more power in the executive branch, all created by 41 himself. DHS and ICE, bolstered by the Patriot Act, were invented in 2003 to do exactly what they're doing now-- disappearing immigrants and bypassing due process under vague, loose definitions of the word "terrorism".

[iscdisc]

I guess we can call this an AU? But a concept that I really would have loved to see is taking basically, "The Croaking" episode (S3 EP 4), retconning that completely, and instead putting it under a different context in Season 4-

Where Mikey and Casey started to realize how undervalued and underappreciated they are by everybody else in this team / team dynamic and being so fed up with it that they actually quit. Not to have Raph catching unintentional strays here, but it definitely would not be the same as Raph quitting a plethora of times like the group assumes it is / would be. I don't see them being recruited by Karai and Shinigami right away, since I do feel like it would be more fitting for them to try their luck as a Duo (Which would be an interesting parallel to Season 2, when Raph tried to do the same thing with Slash-). But after the Duo shtick wasn't working out I could see Karai and Shini running into them somehow, and after discovering that they quit, offering them a place with them in the reformed Foot Clan ! Something I'm sure both of them were a little apprehensive about for different reasons (Mikey with his whole association with the Foot Clan in general + this possibly feeling like a betrayal of his Father somehow, and Casey going on about how he doesn't want to be tied down or labeled to any kind of group and wanting to be independent, etc.-), but after a while they would agree !

I didn't get to draw this like I wanted to, but I really wanted to have a portion of Casey and Mikey making it abundantly clear to Leo and Raph (primarily) that they can't control them or tell them what to do anymore, since they would obviously face a lot of backlash from those two specifically over this choice. Which is why I drew Leo being so visually upset when talking to Karai because of how adamant Mikey was in his choice and his fear of losing his brothers stars to cloud any rational thinking,, 😭👍

Also sorry to make the description of this post so long, but one last thing I want to say is I can't stand, "The Croaking". Not for the initial concept, but for how it was executed. These writers really took the approach of Mikey quitting the team, something that I feel is a valid decision from him considering how he's genuinely treated by his Brothers in this team, and basically made a joke out of it. The episode barely even focused on the core issue at all, which is that Mikey's Brothers didn't appreciate him or respect him enough, and honestly kind of shifted the narrative to be more about Attila / the Mutant Frogs and April & Casey being captured by them. Which also felt weird and stupid, because there was this whole environmentalist discussion surrounding the mutant frogs and why they feel the way they do about humans (Super valid by the way-), and that completely gets glossed over by the end of it. With April being all like, "Not all humans are bad and I want to think not all mutant frogs are bad-". 💀

They don't apologize to Mikey yet again , and like I said earlier, it feels like they completely missed the entire point of this episode by the end of it. But idk, whatever. Lmao

[sillyengineerperson]

another day, another hunger games book that's made me cry my eyes out

[fagcrisis]

AITA for calling my (19F) boss's (20? M?) dick small?

I accompanied my boss on a work trip recently, and due to some circumstances we ended up being stuck in a dirt hole together for a couple of hours. During an attempt to get out of said hole, I saw a frog which startled me and I fell on top of my boss. For context it's important that as far as I knew, my boss is a eunuch. When I fell on him, I accidentally touched his dick. This suprised me, because i thought he didn't have one, so I kept my hand there to check for about 5 minutes. For some reason this made him uncomfortable. He started talking about something that isn't related to this incident, and I didn't really want to talk about it, so I pretended that instead of his dick I touched the frog I've seen before. This seemed to annoy him a little, so I kept talking and accidentally said his "frog" was only somewhat large. I think this might have made him really angry, but thankfully the awkward situation was resolved because my sister's boyfriend and his dog rescued us from the hole. I didn't think any more about the incident, but later that day he still seemed agitated and wanted to talk to me about something. I wasn't paying too much attention, because he finally gave me the pay bonus I'd asked for some months earlier, but now I feel kind of bad. Should I tell him that his dick is regular sized? Would it be a bad idea to bring it up since he is supposed to be a eunuch?

EDIT: He isn't my direct boss, he's an official who manages the area I work in. He asks for my advice with his work occasionally, which is why I was on this trip to begin with.

EDIT 2: What is this "personal space" you all keep yelling about in the comments. It doesn't seem relevant to my situation

[msilverstar]

transcription:

FOREWORD: BUCKY BARNES (by Sebastian Stan, Spring 2025)

I remember standing up on a ladder, sweating, in the middle of a take on a hot day in Palmdale, California, on the set of The Apparition. They were doing a camera reload, I think, when my phone buzzed in my pocket. I took it out and looked at it: "Unknown caller I.D." "That can never be important," I thought. I let it go to voicemail.

We got the take and, in fact, continued to shoot for another few hours until, finally, I remembered, "Oh right, I had a voicemail." | took out my phone and brought it to my ear, expecting a telemarketer, only to hear, "Hey, it's Kevin. From Marvel. We'd love for you to do Bucky. If you're up for it. Give a call back." My heart stopped. My knees got weak. No way. Impossible. Earlier that day, someone had played a prank on me, stating, "It's April 1st! APRIL FOOLS' DAY!" Was this a joke or the real Kevin Feige?

It's an understatement to say my life changed that day: April 1, 2010. In three months' time, I was to go to London and start filming Marvel Studios Captain America: The First Avenger as Bucky Barnes.

It's insane for me to admit I didn't know anything about good old James Buchanan Barnes before my Captain America screen tests - which were for Steve Rogers, not even Bucky Barnes. I just didn't grow up with comic books, but I immediately had to dive in. I had a lot of catching up to do - including reading the convention-breaking series by Ed Brubaker and Steve Epting that revived Joe Simon and Jack Kirby's long-dead creation and started his journey as the Winter Soldier. Now, fifteen years later, I'm here trying to impart some wisdom. Life is crazy. I've never known it any other way. And neither has Bucky.

I think the thing I've loved most about Bucky all these years is that he always keeps me guessing, in one way or another. Every time I think I have him figured out, he keeps surprising me. Sometimes, I don't know what he's going to do next. What he wants from this life next or if he even knows - like most of us, I guess. Part of the reason is that he never really had a choice. I always felt that, at the end of the day, he enrolled in the Army back in the '40s mainly to protect his best friend, Steve - to go on with him and fight the good fight and keep an eye on him, make sure he didn't get hurt. After all, Steve kind of was the only family he ever had. At least, it felt that way to me.

Bucky was always a real human being to me. A young man trying to figure out his purpose - and before he could, he was captured, brainwashed and turned into a fighting machine. A Manchurian candidate, to some extent. Held against his will. Given a new identity. And for the wrong team. Bucky Barnes is all of us. And that's why Pretty intense for a comic book if you ask me. And yet real. I've never questioned why so many people related to Bucky or why so many former soldiers approached me about him, saying, "I know what he went through..." But I just knew he was real. People connected to him in a deep, profound way.

As we know, Bucky eventually regains his memory and thus all his "sins" along with it, leaving him more lost than ever and full of guilt and shame. How does he go on? How does he accept his past?

I think, for me, this was always incredible to explore, because this is a very real thing. It's human. We all must do this in life - confront our past - and some are braver than others, while others fight and run from it. But this struggle to embrace the past and move forward is something I think has always rang true about Bucky, and it's also something many people understood.

Without a doubt, he is one of the most fascinating characters I've ever played. Alongside him for fifteen years, I have met life as best as I could and questioned life as much as I could - and I feel we have grown together as a result. He's my brother, in a way. The brother I never had. And he's taught me a lot.

Bucky Barnes is all of us, and that's why he will always live on. He understood that the only way out is by going back in and truly confronting yourself. By doing so, he achieved his freedom. The freedom he lost back in the '40s. I could go on and on because he fascinates me, and I feel so blessed to have been given the chance to play him. I'm so grateful for that day: April 1, 2010. It changed my life. Thank you, Kevin.

CAPTAIN AMERICA: THE WINTER SOLDIER [MARVEL PREMIER COLLECTION] (Amazon link) by Ed Brubaker. Features an exclusive foreword by Academy Award-Nominated actor Sebastian Stan

CAPTAIN AMERICA: THE WINTER SOLDIER [MARVEL PREMIER COLLECTION] by Ed Brubaker Features an exclusive foreword by Academy Award-Nominated actor Sebastian Stan

[rueclfer]

evergreen

𖤓 part xi. | series m.list | prev | part xii.

there was a chance that you’ve passed by that tree already. maybe even a few times. you can’t help but silently curse to yourself as you step over the fallen twigs and branches crunching under your feet. with each hesitant step, hawks’ voice rings through your head as a reminder for your poor choice of footwear.

despite the several summers that you’ve spent running around these woods, the last five years have clearly not been kind to its elements. it was almost unrecognizable- not that you’d specifically remember every individual tree from your childhood, but trails heads had been vandalized, miscellaneous wrappers and trash were scattered from tourists during the off-season, and things were… gray.

there you stood in between two trees that seemed annoyingly too familiar as you peer through the woods. you forgot how dark these areas got once the sun began setting on the outside.

maybe you should’ve rallied up a group to search for touya. would that have been too dramatic? you doubt any of the campers would pass up an opportunity to scour the woods with close to zero adult supervision (you and tomura barely count as one functioning adult), and you could’ve easily played it off as just another camp activity. 

you had a thought earlier about stopping by enji’s office to ask about touya’s whereabouts. you could imagine it clearly; touya sitting in one of his dad’s infamous plush rocking chairs, and while he’s working on some paperwork, touya��s talking about the nostalgia of camp- what new, what’s not, everything in between, and maybe even you.

if touya could change so drastically, what were the chances that his dad could too?

you scoffed at yourself, shaking your head at the thought.

“starting to lose it?” a voice snaps your attention up “who knows what walking in circles for 20 minutes could do to a person.”

you look up into the trees to only be blinded by the stark brightness of a phone flashlight.

“touya?” you hold a hand out to block the light from your eyes.

“yup,” he responds, turning the back of his phone towards himself, “in the flesh.”

by now, the sun was halfway past the horizon, leaving you two in the blue dim of the dense trees that not even the remnants of daylight could infiltrate.

“fun day at the lake?” he nonchalantly asks as he swings a leg back and forth.

“are you fucking kidding me?” you scoff. “i’ve been looking for you all day, and you’ve just been here?”

looking for him? he was sure you’d be more than glad to have a day to enjoy the lake without him around, but your sudden burst of anger shuts him up for a moment.

“well i’ve been here.” he shrugs. “i don’t do water.” 

“yes you do.” you raise your voice. “stop fucking lying, touya.”

neither of you were sure as to why you were so upset. you knew this wasn’t about needing more hands to run the group of campers today, and you knew that people change- you were well aware of that- but there was something festering inside of you that was suddenly overflowing like a pot of water left over the burner.

“like seriously,” you continue, “take some accountability for once.”

“accountability? for what?” he scoffs. “hate me when i’m around, hate me when i’m not. tell me what the fuck you want me to do because i thought i was doing you a favor.”

the look on your face made him sick. he would never speak to you this way, but if there was something you both could agree on, it was that he wasn’t him anymore, and hasn’t been for a long time.

“a favor?” you spit as your ears grow hot. “you think you’re doing me a favor by disappearing without letting anyone know? you think you’re doing me a favor by making me think that maybe we could be amicable for the summer, and then pulling some shit like this whenever we have to work together?”

touya rolls his eyes, “if we’re being honest here, i didn’t want to come back to this shit hole either if that’s what you’re really mad about.”

he almost winces when your lips wobble into a frown.

“then why did you, huh?” you choke out, desperately trying to keep your expression still. “because you knew i’d be here. my name was in that email. yours wasn’t. excuse me for being a little bit caught off guard.”

don’t cry. don’t cry. please don’t cry.

“didn’t have a choice, sweetheart,” he coldly says, “and neither do you. i’m here and you’re going to have to deal with it, so i’m so fucking sorry.”

you were quiet- desperately trying to suppress the stream of thoughts, screams, and profanity running through your head.

if the rose colored glasses haven’t melted off this morning from the campers getting into it with each other, it definitely has now.

“coming back here was a mistake.” you began, knuckles going white as you press deep crescents into your palms. “ i should’ve…i shouldn’t have…”

for the first time ever, touya was witnessing you stumble over your words. the sharp tongued, quick witted y/n who was always ready to put him in his place was finally at a loss for words.

“tell me why. why did you come back then?” he interjects. “you regret coming back because i’m here?”

you press your lips together into a tight line. a beat of silence passes.

“coming back here was supposed to be nostalgic. it was supposed to remind me of the best times of my life growing up in these woods, but it’s not. everything is different and that’s fine. I can deal with change, but here you are,“ you scoff, “here you are as a constant fucking reminder for what it used to be, and how it’ll never be that again.”

as if the air in his lungs had been knocked out of him, touya went quiet. you don’t bother waiting for a response before turning on your heels and trekking back where you came from- not even half sure if it was the right direction back to the campsite.

the tips of your ears were burning with anger and frustration, you couldn’t be bothered to stop and think for a moment about the dangers of the situation that you had gotten yourself into.

the woods were almost pitch black. you had no idea where you were going. your sandals were doing nothing for the twigs and rocks digging into the sides of your feet. you could barely see a few feet in front of you, but you didn’t care. you needed to get away.

behind you, you hear the rapid crunching of footsteps following close on your trail.

“don’t follow me,” you say through gritted teeth.

“sorry sweetheart, but you’re not exactly the most directionally gifted eagle scout there was,” he scoffs.

“i don’t care. i don’t want to be anywhere near you right now.” 

“news flash,” he quickens his step, reaching out and grabbing onto your shoulder, “we share a cabin, we’re heading to the same fucking place, and you’re going the wrong way.” he nods his head back towards the opposite direction.

you don’t realize you’re crying until the first tear slips off your chin.

“i hate you.” you look at him for the first time tonight. really look at him.

touya's eyes slightly widen and his mouth gapes open with no words coming out.

you don't remember how long it took for this resentment to build up inside of you or when it was that "he's just busy" and "he's probably preparing for university" turned into "he doesn't care about me" and "i never meant anything to him."

“i hate you.” tears blur your vision, as you angrily wipe your eyes.

 the hand on your shoulder tenses for a moment before his other comes up to your right side.

“i hate you.” you sob against touya’s chest.

touya pulled you into him with a split second of regret. he desperately wants to tell you that it’ll be fine- that he’s here now and he can make things right, but even a promise like that wasn’t enough to convince him.

“i know,” he mutters into your hairline as your tears seep into his t-shirt, “i know.”

he hated himself too.

touya doesn’t say anything. he doesn’t try to comfort you. he doesn’t tell you that it’ll be okay. he lets you ball his t-shirt up in your fists as you tremble in his arms and try to choke back the next sob.

“let’s just get back to camp, okay?” was all he could say and for once, you don’t argue. 

a/n: FFFFUUUIUUUUCCCKKKKKK this was so uuuuhgggghhhhh to write i just want them to kiss and make up already </3 but unfortunately these two desperately need to feel their feelings and tussle it out BADDD

tags:

@iluv-ace @bitchyfestivalbouquet @redr0sewrites @babylambdietcoke @bnhabadass @hanmastattoos @1ndee @starsryi @nesrynsblog @twoplayergaymers @suksatoru @ita606 @pookiebear16 @fictionalcharactersownmyheart @in-the-marina-trench @haruhi269 @itgetzweird08 @ilophilia @chimimon @emluvs-sugu @punishblue @whorror-complex @akumakitsune21 @maddie-rose-1 @ixeyi @commonmisery @ggriwm @exselily @kryscent @starrmage @vannyinthestars @burnishingbagels @soobhns @kaybug88 @lantsovheiress @0skullyard0 @albakugo @sleepyk0dyz @blu3-l0v3r @bakugouswh0r3 @kaldurahms-lover @thoughtswithbbg @slothsmoths @reocidal @multi-write @stoned-anime-babe @i-simp-to-much @satansdaughter123 @haunted4love @annybah @linmabbe @boreaswrites @lostsomewhereinthegarden @hearts4heidi @makaroni-and-chez

[loungemermaid]

Things I’ve just chosen to believe:

Katniss goes grey young. By her mid twenties she has strands, by mid thirties there’s streaks, and by her forties she’s salt and pepper. Peeta doesn’t look like he’s going grey because he’s blond, and to be fair it takes a little longer, he starts later, but one morning it’s like his hair went white overnight.

Katniss never stops delighting over new food. The food obsession from her younger self, when she was starving, is permanent. She acquires a lot of tastes, especially spice and herbs, but she can’t ever get over unsweet tea and black coffee. Whenever she makes iced tea she has to make two pitchers.

Peeta hates cooking on an electric stove and throws theirs out for a coal one. It’s what he’s used to, he knows how it works, and damn it, he don’t wanna learn anything else. He still, until the day he dies, spends hours cleaning and polishing it, every week.

Speaking of, they both live to be insanely old. Into triple digits. (This is not impossible, most of my family considers “dying young” to be 75). They meet their great great grandchildren. They get wonderful healthcare. That and Katniss’s herbs ensure a long, sweet, happy life. Haymitch does too. He thought he’d die at 40. He meets the grandkids. Katniss and Peeta’s, not just his. (The new liver buys him decades. So does him not putting said new liver through the wringer.)

Even though Katniss greys earlier, Peeta wrinkles quicker. Because he’s white. And very pale. And doesn’t wear sunscreen until his twenties. That’s okay, Katniss thinks his crow’s feet are sexy.

Peeta finds a stray cat while Buttercup is still alive. A girl cat, fluffy and black. Then there’s kittens. And after that, there’s almost always kittens around. Yes, the kittens do try and fuck with Haymitch’s geese. They only ever try that once though. Very little makes Haymitch laugh near as hard as seein’ a six week old kitten ballsy enough to try and pounce a gosling before mama or daddy goose swoop down and bite the shit out of them. It happens every year. And he always loves it.

Haymitch talks about his ma sewing and patchworking his clothes when he was younger, and Katniss gets inspired. She hated knitting, but she’s fantastic at quilting. Her first ones are pretty simple, nothing fancy, but she saves every single scrap. Not because they have to, because she wants to. Because all of them have so little material things left. So, a scrap from a favorite shirt. Another bit from some extra soft blankets that finally bit the dust. Baby clothes. Hair ribbons. Apron strings. She turns it all into beautifully patterned quilts, with small running stitches and (ethically harvested) goose down for batting. She has trunkfulls, gives away the ones mostly made with bought fabric to anyone who wants or needs one. The ones with special fabric she never parts with.

[nickrocketrodriguez]

In honor of one week until S3 premieres, I’ll answer ONE *really good* question a day for the next seven days.

But they HAVE to be really good!

NO spoiler questions — that is, anything about S3 that hasn’t been announced or revealed yet.

NO questions that would destroy anyone’s head canons/ships because I’m not about to start any drama. (I’ve got some of those waiting in my inbox and I just refuse to answer them because I don’t wanna squash your hopes and dreams.)

Process questions, what we were thinking in the room, questions about S1 and S2, etc. are all fair game!

UPDATE:

1) I have gotten a lot of, what I'll call "What If...?"-style questions. Questions about scrapped storylines, or alternate ways certain things may have unfolded earlier in the process. I know I've answered a couple of these in the past, but upon reflection, I'm going to be up front and tell y'all -- I'm actually not super comfortable answering these questions anymore. I know you all ask them because you're curious about the process and such, but from a writing POV, I don't want to get in your heads and have you think about what COULD have been -- I much prefer to discuss how things ARE because that's all we actually have. So, I won't be answering any of these types of questions, either. Thanks for your understanding!

2) Y'all can't be sneaky with these spoiler questions. XD If it's about S3, basically, know that I won't answer it, no matter HOW you try to cleverly phrase it. Thank yeeeew.

[leaderwon]

CHAPTER 03 — there's something about normal

wc — 595

prev — masterlist — next

The following week passed like any other.

You dragged yourself through lectures, half listened to announcements, and tried not to fall asleep during math class while Jay dramatically whispered answers behind you. Lia had started keeping a tally of how many times he got caught. He was already at six.

It wasn’t glamorous. It wasn’t chaotic. It was just… school. But something about it felt a little different this time.

Maybe it was the way Jake kept tossing glances over his shoulder during classes like he was about to say something but never did.

Or how Sunghoon lingered outside your classroom a little longer than usual when you’d leave for lunch, even though his next class was on the opposite side of the building.

Maybe it was you. Maybe you were reading too much into things. Still, normal wasn’t bad.

You found yourself leaning into the routine. Morning walks with Lia, shared notes, fries in the cafeteria, Jay’s voice echoing through the halls whenever he saw someone he knew, which, of course, was everyone.

“Do you think he ever stops talking?” you mumbled one afternoon as Jay was halfway through a passionate monologue about the superiority of crunchy Cheetos over puffy ones.

Lia cackled. “He thinks he’s a philosopher.”

“Of snacks.” Jake sat beside you, munching popcorn from the vending machine. “Don’t look at me. He’s been like this since birth.” “Don’t slander my snack theories,” Jay shot back from across the table. “One day you’ll all realize I was ahead of my time.”

“I’m realizing something else,” Sunghoon muttered, flicking a piece of popcorn at him. Lia sighed dramatically. “And this is why we have no peace.”

Still, as much as you all complained, there was comfort in it. The dumb jokes, the little rituals, Sunghoon stealing Jake’s pens on purpose, Jay always walking you home when you stayed late for extra credit, Jake singing badly in the hallway just to make you laugh.

No one talked about how tight knit the five of you had become. But it was obvious in the way your table was always full, in the way you all moved in a rhythm without thinking.

Sometimes you caught people staring. A few whispers here and there.

“Why’s she always with them?”

“Is she dating one of them?”

“They’re always around her…”

It never really bothered you. You were used to it. You’d grown up next to Sunghoon’s house. Jay’s mom was your mom’s hairdresser. Jake used to share his lunchbox with you in primary school when you forgot yours.

Still, it stung sometimes, those assumptions, those looks.

You weren’t dating anyone. You didn’t even think they saw you like that.

Right?

Lia noticed the shift in your expression one day while you were walking home. “You good?” You shrugged. “Just thinking.” “About the stares?”

You didn’t say anything.

She nudged you with her elbow. “People are always going to talk, Y/N. But you know what’s real.” You did. You thought you did.

And yet... when Jake had leaned a little too close while showing you a meme earlier that day, or when Sunghoon had brushed a loose strand of hair behind your ear during lunch, you didn’t even know why it made your heart do that weird little skip.

Maybe you were just overanalyzing. Maybe it was just hormones. Maybe it was something more.

But you pushed it all down. You weren’t about to be that girl who caught feelings just because your friends were sweet sometimes.

They were just that, your friends. And that was enough.

© @leaderwon 2025. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

[81pastrys]

There’s No Legacy

Part 1 / ?

Summary— She won the F2 championship, but Nico doesn’t let her celebrate her way

Warnings— slight crash out

A/N— I’m running out of series ideas 😵‍💫

Series List

Divider @bernardsbendystraws

“Papa I want to go out and celebrate!” She argued.

“No! You have to fly tomorrow and it’s not happening!” Nico argued back.

“I won the Formula 2 Championship!” She was yelling now. “I can’t go out and celebrate with my team?”

“No! We fly tomorrow I said, now stop yelling at me!”

“This isn’t fair!” She groaned as she walked away. They were arguing in the Mercedes HQ. No one was directly near them, but people heard.

She goes to her driver room a floor above and slams shit around. Lewis knocks and walks in unannounced seeing her upset. He grabs ahold of her, rocking her side to side soothingly. She cries in his arms. “Shhh, it’ll all be okay.” He whispered.

“It’s not fair!” She sobbed.

“I know, he’s just being a dad.”

“Talk him out of it please!”

“I can’t do that, he won’t listen my love.” He responded. “You can’t break things in anger.”

“I’m sorry.” She mumbled. “I did what he wanted!”

“I know, it’s hard. He is your dad and I know you, you will regret this later.” He said. “You’ve got to accept it.”

She stayed quiet. Lewis talks to her more and calms her down. She’s still mad but not as mad as before. She fixed up the room and goes to apologize to Nico. She finds him in the same room as before. Lewis gestures for her to go ahead and Nico drops his phone on the counter, crossing his arms and sighing.

“I’m sorry for yelling at you earlier, I was out of line.” She said, anxiously fiddling with her hands.

“It’s okay, I just don’t feel it’s safe for you to go out tonight.” He said. “We can celebrate back home okay?”

She hugged him and he hugs back. Afterwards she hugged Lewis again. “I’m leaving tonight, but I will see you in about a week or so.” He said.

“Okay, I can’t wait!” She said excited now.

The start of winter went well. They stayed with her grandparents in Monaco. Then they rented an airbnb near Isles of Scilly with Lewis. Nico asked if she wanted anyone to go with them and she picked Ollie. He was her best friend throughout karting and in F2.

“Thank you for inviting me!” Ollie said.

“No problem, I didn’t want her to be left out!” Nico said. She playfully punched his arm in embarrassment.

“I don’t think she’d be lonely Nico.” Lewis laughed. “Maybe bored.”

“So bored, casually chilling on a boat with 2 world champions.” She joked. Ollie laughs.

“Now we both are, look at us.” He joked. “Not everyone can say that.”

“I live with one so…” She trailed off. “What are we doing after this papa?”

“I don’t know Ros.” He mocked a nickname the F2 grid gave her.

“Nico you’re just embarrassing her.” Lewis laughed. “Let her have some fun!”

“Yeah papa.” She said. “This is my celebration.”

“You never went out after winning?” Ollie asked.

“No because Someone- papa- wouldn’t let me.” She joked around.

“Sorry I didn’t want my 17 year old going out to party.” Nico said.

“Did you mention I was there?” Ollie asked.

“Wouldn’t have mattered, I had a flight next day.”

“So sassy.” Lewis said. “Is boating with 2 world champions not enough celebration?”

“Could’ve been 3!” She said. “I wanted Fernando to come.”

“That would’ve been, I don’t even want to think about it.” Nico said laughing after. “He was busy.”

“Sure…” She said. “Busy…”

“You didn’t even text him did you?” Lewis asked smiling. Nico doesn’t answer and they started laughing.

“Ugh!” She laughed. “How dare you!”

“He would’ve complained the entire time!” Nico said.

“Alonso is a complainer?” Ollie asked.

“Oh big time, if he didn’t plan it, it’s wrong.” She said.

“Wrong.” Lewis said. “If he doesn’t want to be there he complains.”

“Well says a lot.” She said. “Guess he doesn’t like me.”

“No, it’s Lewis and I.” Nico laughed.

This will prob be the last series for a min, I have writing to do.

@widow-cevans @il0vereadingstuff @angelluv16 @pandabiiissh @kallanfiona

[sylusbelovedart]

After date (Magnum Opus)

Disclaimer : Just some Sylus brainrot. I wanted to write something sweet since I've been breaking my own heart with angsty thoughts. Sylus might be a bit OOC, sorry.

I know it’s been weeks since Magnum Opus was released but I can’t help but think what the after date was like for Sylus and MC ? Don’t get me wrong, the memory was SO SO good and SylusMc are 👌 I love their dynamic so much. But I'm curious about how they both freaked out afterwards.

Like how did Sylus get home ? I'm sure he must have had the biggest and brightest smile on his face, just thinking about their date. Maybe he will drive slowly at first still too dazed about how well the day went. The pretext to go out to eat just to see her, turning into a memorable date of shopping, teasing and taking care of each other. He could almost still feel the soft touch of her fingers lingering on his face, and how close and intimate it all felt. And then he will start driving faster, a rush of adrenaline flooding through his veins, already thinking about their next date, already planning your camping trip. But maybe not everything needs planning he thinks. He knows you always surprise him in the most sweetest ways and he can't help but want more. After all, isn't greed and desire what drives most people ? That man would be going at such a high speed, and if you were, you would be clinging to him. Maybe joining him in his madness, laughing or screaming at him, scared. Either way, he enjoys every and each of your expressions. Tightening his grip on the brake, he almost screamed in the wind that he finally got the women he longed so so long for.

And what was MC’s reaction after he left and she closes her door ? My girl must have been silently screaming, not yet believing how lovey-dovey they were toward one another, or how natural it felt for her at that moment. She would also be extremely embarrassed. What has he done to her ? She would be jumping up and down from excitement while also punching the air, flashbacks about how things unfolded. Because at the end of the day she’s just a girl too. And as she went to the bathroom, she would just be a blushing mess thinking about Sylus and his sweet words and stare at herself in the mirror, a loving look in her eyes flushing her cheeks red "a loved art piece" she would mutter embarrassed to herself "such a smooth talker".

And after she washes up and prepares to go to bed, she sends him a message to know if he got back home safely and he might respond with something like

Sylus : Already missing me, kitten ? 😏

And MC would laugh at his use of emojis because what in the world was that ? But he was feeling silly and so was she.

MC : When you say it like that…

MC : I just wanted to make sure you went back home safely.

And Sylus red the message at least three time before replying to her. He almost sent a "you're the cutest" before erasing it.

Sylus : I did.

Sylus : Shouldn't you be asleep by now ?

MC : That’s good.

MC : I'm going to bed.

MC : Thanks again for today. It was a fun.

And as much as their relationship progressed and the banter and sweet-talking they have when they meet, she still feels shy and self-conscious when it came to talk about her feeling. But it was fine. Sylus would get it.

Sylus : Should I be concerned about this grateful attitude of yours ?

Sylus : You push me to ask you out but then get concerned I might get caught. You’re concerned about my taste in women and get mad at me, but then you hold me and take care of my skin, and now… you’re thanking me ?

MC : 😐

MC : You make me sound so mean.

MC : Forget I even said anything.

MC : THE DAY WAS AWFULL

MC : 😡

Sylus : [vocal] ha ha ha. Please don’t restrain on my account. I enjoyed today’s… date too.

MC : So you’re starting to admit it too ?

MC : Wow 😳 We’re making progress.

Sylus : Weren’t you the one who said we were dating earlier ?

MC : I did.

MC : Why ?

MC : Don’t tell me you’re planning on shying away now.

MC : You can’t even tell me properly when you want to see me. Should I be the one wearing the pants in this relationship ? 😔

Sylus : 🤨

Sylus : Getting pretty carried away now aren’t we ?

Sylus : Also, are you planning on scolding me ?

Sylus : Please make sure to call me beforehand.

Sylus : I’m willing to hear all of your complaints.

MC : ...

And as your eyes are slowly closing, you felt yourself drowsing almost forgetting to answer to Sylus.

Sylus : But I guess that will be for another time. A sleepy kitten needs her beauty sleep.

MC : No

MC : Im perfectlyzwake

MC : *I’m perfectly awake.

Sylus : Make sure your teeth won’t bite off your tongue with the lies. Make it believable next time.

Sylus : And as I told you before. You don’t need to adapt to my schedule.

Sylus : Make sure you get proper sleep for tomorrow.

Sylus : Don’t want to find a stubborn hunter injured because she didn’t get enough rest.

MC : You’re the one scolding me now. 🙄

Sylus : 👀

Sylus : Wouldn’t want on you the burden of wearing the pants in the relationship.

MC : Yeah sure. Such a gentleman.

You waited a few minutes before finally saying him goodnight.

MC : Goodnight, Sylus [Mephisto sleeping emoji]. See you… next week ? Maybe ?

Sylus : Oh. I’m planning on seeing you earlier than next week.

Sylus : Goodnight, kitten 🍷✨

[ellswritings]

My Hero

CM Punk (Phil Brooks) x Reader

TW: Drinking, handsy dude who follows reader out of the bar, violence, foul language, Phil being extra protective, silly misunderstandings, mutual pining. I think that’s it.

Tags: @reebs-luvs-rhodes-and-wrestling

✧･ﾟ:*ᴵ’ᵐ ᵇᵉᵃᵘ ᵗᶦᶠᵘˡ (ꈍ ꒳ ꈍ✿)*:･ﾟ✧*

Part of Y/N wishes she had listened to Phil. Actually, all of Y/N wishes she had listened to him. Maybe if she had just been content with sitting at the hotel watching movies with him for the night, she wouldn’t be in this situation.

Demi and a couple of the other girls wanted to go out the night before their big show tomorrow. Phoenix Arizona wasn’t necessarily their favorite place to be, but it still had its perks. They all agreed not to get hammered or anything as they had to be up bright and early, but it was really the only time they had to themselves as they had only landed earlier that morning.

The bar itself was nice. It was only a five minute walk from the hotel, practically right down the street which made it convenient to walk to. The inside was well-furnished, feeling more like a speakeasy rather than a bar. It was a nice find. Not that any of them were surprised. The hotel the company got for them was on the higher end of the monetary spectrum as well.

Phil knew she had plans to go out with the girls later that night, but something in him just didn’t set right at the thought of her out so late. He’s always been rather protective of Y/N, having known her since she debuted at AEW in 2022 before getting poached by WWE the following year.

He’s seen her grow into the phenomenon she is today. They’ve only known each other for a few years, but she quickly became someone he relied on. Which speaks volumes as Phil has never been one to rely on anyone. But something is different about her. The way her smile easily lit up a room, or the way her laugh could brighten even the worst of days for anyone. It made him fiercely protective of her.

So the moment that uneasy feeling rose in his chest, he tried to suggest that she stay in with him. That they could hang out in his room and watch movies like they usually do when they’re in a city for more than two days. But since this trip was supposed to be short, she was adamant about going out before having to hop on another flight.

He understood, and he would never force her to do something she didn’t want to, but it didn’t ease that gnawing feeling in his gut. He tried again to get her to stay right before Demi came to get her, but all he got was a small scoff and a teasing remark about how just because he couldn’t stay up past midnight doesn’t mean she couldn’t.

Phil could feel himself becoming anxious at the thought of her being out. It frustrated him. He didn’t get anxious ever, especially over people. The only time he ever got even remotely close to anxious is when Larry ate the tab of his Pepsi can when it fell on the floor.

But he didn’t want to push the subject any further. She was a big girl. She could handle herself. That’s what he told himself. He’s seen her kick some serious ass in their time of being friends, so he knows what she’s capable of.

But even that didn’t soothe his mind.

So in order to preoccupy himself, he turned on some mind-numbing movie to fill the quiet space that is his hotel room as he patiently waits to get the text that she and the girls made it back to the hotel after their outing.

While the night started out lively and fun, funny stories, shots, and laughs being shared between friends, Y/N slowly started realizing how truly exhausted she was. Perhaps it is the fact she spends most of her time with Phil who is an old man at heart. The thought of him already laying in his bed in pajamas at ten-forty five makes her smile. Maybe it’s his fault she’s now having a hard time living it up. Not that she minds. Hence why now she’s secretly longing for the other girls to tire out so she can catch the tail end of whatever crap movie he managed to find on the hotel television.

Demi notices the small yet distant smile on her friend's face. She smirks, nudging her, “What’s got you all smitten?” She asks with a teasing edge, her accent sounding like velvet to anyone with ears.

Y/N snaps back into reality, suddenly hyper aware of all the eyes on her. “Nothing…” she tries to brush off, taking a sip of her Malibu and coke. “Just got lost in my head a little bit.”

“Well that’s a scary place to be,” Victoria quips without missing a beat making everyone chuckle.

Y/N lovingly rolls her eyes, crumpling up a napkin and tossing it at Victoria, “Har har, very funny.”

“Nah, we all know she probably zoned out thinking about how Punker’s sitting up in his room waiting for her to get back, huh?” Demi grins evilly, though she tries to cover it up with a look of innocence as Y/N glares at her harshly.

“Shut up,” she grumbles, pinching the woman’s bicep. Demi lets out a small gasp before playfully slapping Y/N back.

“Hey, you’ve got nothing to be ashamed of,” Gionna chimes in. “It’s kinda cute how he looks out for you. Not a lot of guys nowadays are like that with their girl friends.”

“That’s not true,” Y/N tried to counter, fighting off the blush that’s threatening to rise on her cheeks. She doesn’t know why talking about Phil is making her feel this squeamish, but it definitely did not go unnoticed by her friends. “Plenty of the guys we know at work are like that.”

“Oh please,” Demi scoffs out a laugh. “I’m willing to bet my kidney that Luis is conked out, drooling on his hotel pillow right now.” Everyone laughs at the image of the powerful ‘Damian Priest’ being sprawled out like a toddler. “While I know for a fact that Brooks isn’t sleeping until he knows your back safely.”

Y/N rolls her eyes, but she knows Demi’s right. She can practically see him staring off into space, his phone resting on his lap as he awaits her goodnight text. That’s how they’ve always been. Waiting up for each other before allowing themselves to get comfortable. She does the same for him.

“The old dogs got a soft spot for you,” she continues. “We’re not saying it’s a bad thing. Just saying that it’s different. You’ve got a unique dynamic. It’s nice to see.”

“We’re all just jealous,” Victoria laughs. “We all wish we had a guy friend like that.”

Friend.

That’s all Phil was right? Her friend. Her best friend. Someone who has sat with her through all the crazy things life threw at them. It’s all they’ve ever been. She’s always looked up to Phil, admired him, aspired to be as good as him in the ring and as good of a person as he is outside of it. He lives his life in a way that is so effortlessly him, and she is eternally grateful to have been blessed with the opportunity to be his friend.

However, like in every sappily tragic romantic comedy, best friends is not the term she would use to describe how she feels towards him.

It wasn’t obvious at first. There was a subtle attraction in their first meeting. How could there not be? He’s Phil Brooks. The CM Punk. She would’ve been crazy to deny how insanely good looking he is. But at first, that’s all it was. Just a good friend being able to admit that the man she has gotten close with is attractive. Unfortunately, that initial spark of interest grew with every passing day and burned down everything in its path until it became an untamable forest fire.

She hates herself for it. She didn’t want their relationship to turn into some sappy romance that made everyone either coo with jealousy or roll their eyes out of annoyance by how basic of a trope it was. So she swallowed every part of her that found him attractive. Hid whatever aspect of her subconscious that told her it would be a good idea to confess her feelings. And so far it’s worked. Things have remained perfect between them. Well, as perfect as they could be.

There still is that small part that wishes they could be more. But she knows that’s a line that can’t be crossed. Not when things are so great the way that they are.

“Yeah, I guess I did get pretty lucky in that department,” Y/N agrees with a fond smile, wrapping her lips around the straw in her drink.

Conversation easily flows back into other things; work, husbands, drama in the locker room. Y/N listens intently, chiming in when she feels like she has something of value to say. There was a long stretch of laughter when Y/N admitted to not having been in a romantic or sexual situation in over a year. They didn’t believe her until they saw her awkwardly sip her drink once more.

“Wait… are you for real?” Victoria raises her eyebrows. “You seriously havent even been on a date in over a year?”

“Yeah,” Y/N says sheepishly. “I just haven’t really had time,” she admits. “And I dunno… I guess I just haven’t found anyone interesting enough to spend time with. In either sense.”

“Really?” Gionna leans forward. “No one tickles your fancy even in the slightest?”

Y/N can’t help but laugh at her word choice. “Yes, really,” she confirms. “I just haven’t found a person that when I look at them I get those instant butterflies, y’know?”

That was almost convincing. Even she almost believed it. But that lie hasn’t worked for the past couple years, it’s probably not gonna work now.

“Well then we’ve gotta find you a man,” Victoria says, a new mission in her eyes. “ ‘Cause there’s no reason someone as gorgeous as you shouldn’t have men falling at her feet.”

“She doesn’t need a man,” Demi chuckles. “Not unless she wants one.” Her eyes meet Y/N’s with a certain tenderness, “Do you want one?”

Y/N thinks about it and truthfully, she wouldn’t mind having a significant other to come home to. Or to even travel with while being on the road. She’s had a hard time though the past few years finding anyone that excites her or intrigues in that manner. In fact, shortly after she met Phil, that’s when the struggles in her romantic life started. She really has no one to blame but herself. She let her attraction go unchecked and now it’s costing her in the long run.

“I wouldn’t mind finding someone,” Y/N says honestly. “Even if it’s just somethin’ casual for a little bit.”

“All right…” Demi smirks. “Well, if that’s the case, I’ve been hearing some whispers that Bron’s been talking about you a lot,” she revelas like it’s not that big of a deal.

Gionna gasps, “Oh, I heard that too!” She slaps the table excitedly. “Apparently he’s had his eye on you since he saw you in the Royal Rumble last year.”

Y/N’s face flushes red. She wasn’t expecting Bron Steiner out of all people to have had his attention on her. They’re around the same age, Y/N being only about two years older than him. Normally, she would never even consider entertaining Bron, since she’s typically into older men, but knowing nothing is ever going to happen witht he person she wants it to… maybe Bron wouldn’t be so bad.

“I could ask Dom to talk to one of their mutual friends if you want?” Gionna suggests. “Feel it out a bit.”

Y/N doesn’t understand why she forces a smile on her face. She should be thrilled, but she just can’t dig out that genuine emotion. “Yeah, that would be great.”

Once again, the conversation moves on. Y/N feels her battery depleting more and more as the others continue on drinking. She doesn’t understand how they’re not showing any signs of exhaustion. It’s like the later it gets, the more energy they feel. She rests her head in her hand, her blinks becoming slower and slower as things drag on. She finds herself zoning out, longing to be laying down next to her best friend, falling asleep while mumbling that she’s still watching his movie when they both know she’s not.

Her phone buzzes in her lap and she glances down, the exact name she wanted to see popping up.

“You doing okay?” Phil’s message wakes her up a little more, stirring something inside of her as she moves to reply. “You guys have been gone awhile.”

Y/N smiles but it quickly turns into a frown as she realizes how late it actually is.

2:45 am.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Why are you still up? It’s late.”

“Just waiting for my girl to tell me she got back to the hotel safely.”

Her eyes widen and her heart stutters. His girl? She shakes her head, taking a moment to blink rapidly before rereading the message. It’s still there. He didn’t mean it in the way she wishes she could take it. She knows that, constantly repeating it in her head. They’re just friends. She is his girl just like he’s her guy, because they’re close friends. They’ve got a special bond.

That still doesn't stop the way her mind suddenly starts pounding harder than her chest. She can feel her feet pulsing at a different rate and it becomes extremely overwhelming. She turns her phone off, closing her eyes briefly and sucking in a deep breath. The bar suddenly feels much more claustrophobic than she remembers, the dark lighting only helping to soothe the headache that’s building behind her eyes.

She shoves the small amount of her drink away from her, looking at the girls with apologetic eyes. She really didn’t want to be the one to tap out early, but she genuinely just wanted to be in her pajamas. “Guys, I think I’m gonna head back to the hotel. I’m starting to get a little woozy.”

“What?” Demi’s smile falls, concern replacing her joyous expression. “Woozy? What’s wrong? Are you feeling sick?”

“No- no, I’m fine,” Y/N tries to wave her off. “Just like a tired woozy,” she explains, trying not to make it sound serious. “I just wanna go to bed.”

Victoria moves to grab her purse, “Well here, we’ll finish our drinks and walk back with you.”

“No,” Y/N stops her. “No, guys, you don’t have to do that. I’m being the loser leaving early. You guys are still having a good time. I don’t wanna ruin your guys’ night just because I’m ready to hit the sack.”

“You wouldn’t be ruining our night, Y/N,” Gionna assures her. “It’s extremely late. We don’t want you walking alone.”

“G, I’ll be fine,” Y/N insists, standing up as she gathers her stuff. “It’s literally a five minute walk. I’ll text you guys when I make it back.”

“Y/N…” Demi looks at her, unconvinced. “You’ve been drinking. We’re in a city none of us know. You can’t expect us to just let you walk alone.”

Y/N grabs her hand, squeezing it reassuringly, “I promise, I’ll be okay.” A playful smile covers her lips, “I kick people’s asses for a living, remember? I’m sure I can handle a scrawny crackhead that tries to come at me. And like I said, it’s a five minute walk. Nothing’s gonna happen in five minutes.”

“You don’t know that–”

“Dem, I’ll be okay,” Y/N cuts her off, a pleading tone in her voice. “Please. I don’t want you guys to leave on my account. I promise I’ll text you the entire time I’m walking.”

The other three still look more than apprehensive. Y/N impatiently taps her foot, waiting for them to give her permission to go. She just wanted to be considerate of their time. If they’re not tired, they shouldn’t have to leave. Y/N’s never wanted to be a burden on anyone, and she doesn’t want to start now.

They can see the desperation and exhaustion in Y/N’s expression. Victoria’s posture softens, “Can we at least get you an uber?”

Y/N exhales with a fond smile, making her rounds to kiss all of her friends' heads. “No, I’m good. That’ll just be a waste of money. It’s right around the corner. I’ll share my location with the group chat and text you guys the entire way, okay?”

They all sigh, but reluctantly nod their heads. Brief hugs are shared before Y/N takes her phone out, sending her location to their group chat. She sends them a small wave before making her way towards the door. As soon as she pushes it open, she’s hit with a very welcome gust of fresh air. The pounding in her head regresses as she sucks in a deep breath. The fresh air around her was much needed. Things started to get much too stuffy in the bar.

Part of her wanted to take off the tall heels that are making her feet extremely uncomfortable, but she knows better than to walk around barefoot on the street so she powered through. She tugs her jacket closer to her chest, folding her arms over it to keep it in place. She’s only walking for about a minute and a half when she suddenly feels a strong chill cover her entire frame.

And it wasn’t from the wind.

The sound of heavy breathing fills her ears and she’s sober enough to know it’s not her own. Every part of her body is now on high alert. She continues walking, turning her head inconspicuously to see if she can get an image of anything out of her peripherals. Her breath hitches when she notices a tall, rather burly individual walking about ten paces behind her. She furrows her eyebrows, trying to see through the darkness. That’s when she realizes who it is.

It’s the same man they saw from when they walked into the bar. He had tried to talk to them when they originally walked in, but Demi was quick to shut it down so Y/N didn’t think anything of it. In fact, they all thought he left after the interaction.

Apparently he didn’t.

Y/N didn’t want to assume the worst. He might just be headed in the same direction, or maybe even going to the same hotel. But there’s this gut feeling she has that says believing the best isn’t the right move. Her hands become clammy and her stomach twists into painful knots. That’s when she knows there’s something wrong. Her body is warning her before something bad happens.

She keeps her pace, not wanting to alert the man behind her that she’s aware of his presence. Her breathing quickens but she tries to keep it under control. She doesn’t want him to hear her panicking because that might just make him strike faster.

Tears begin to brim at the corner of her eyes, Y/N silently cursing at herself for drinking. She always gets more emotional when she drinks. If she had just stayed at the bar– no, if she had just stayed with Phil, she wouldn’t be here. She wishes she had just stayed with him.

Y/N knows she could probably take down the man following her. It wouldn’t be easy, considering how large he looks, but she could do it… if she was fully sober. She’s not in her right mind, so engaging in a fight wouldn’t get her anywhere. It might just get her into more trouble. So she does the only thing she can think of.

Phil furrows his eyebrows as his phone rings in his lap. He sees Y/N’s name pop up and he becomes even more confused. Is she back? If so why wouldn’t she just text him?

“Kid, you better have some magical fucking energy drink to suck down for tomorrow ‘cause I’m still getting your ass up early to train,” he says jokingly, hoping to hear a drunk giggle come from her mouth. He might not drink, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t find her adorable when she is.

“Phil…” she whimpers , her voice cracking as she says his name.

The playful smile on his face disappears, replaced by worry and concern. His chest tightens and his fists clench. He’s never heard her say his name like that. So broken, scared almost. It puts him on edge more than he already is.

“Y/N…” he says carefully. “What’s wrong?”

“Um– I– I don’t– I don’t know what to do,” she says in an urgent whisper. His heart breaks at the sound of her clearly holding back tears. “We were at the bar, and– and I just got really tired so I told them I wanted to leave. They wanted to come with me, but I told them no because they were still talking, so I convinced them to let me go alone, and then I started walking but then I felt like someone was following me so I tried to look and then I saw this guy…” she hiccups, trying to cover up a sob. “He tried to hit on us when we walked into the bar but Demi turned him down. But Phil… he’s behind me,” she says, terrified out of her mind. “I’ve been trying to act like I haven’t noticed him, but I think he’s catching on. He’s walking faster now.”

Phil sees red. He’s up and dressed within thirty seconds, grabbing his hotel key and rushing out the door. “Where the hell are you?” That’s the only question he has time to ask. He’s furious. She shouldn’t be walking back alone. But he doesn’t have time to be pissed at the fact she’s walking in the dark by herself, the only thing on his mind is making sure she makes it back to the hotel safely.

“I’m like two minutes away,” she tells him. He can feel his blood boiling as he hears her shuffling on the other side of the phone. Her breathing quickens and he can tell she’s moving faster now. “I just need to make it around the corner and I’ll be at the doors of the hotel. I can see it–”

“I’m on my way,” he says, voice stiff. Y/N can hear the ding of the elevator and suddenly his feet are pounding against the tile of the hotel lobby. “Don’t show fear. I’ll be right there.”

“Phil…” she whimpers again. “I’m so scared.”

He sighs, clenching his fists tightly. He needs her in his arms now. “I know, sweetheart. I’m comin’.”

All he knows is this is the absolute last time she goes out late without him there to protect her.

Out of nowhere he starts hearing her heels clicking against the pavement faster. She’s running. “Y/N?!” He shouts into the phone. “Hey, talk to me! What’s going on?”

“He’s coming!” She yells, her worried whisper now turned into a full fledged shriek. “Stay the hell away from me! No!”

Phil’s heart drops as he takes off at full speed, disregarding any vehicles coming into the parking lot. “Y/N?!” He screams.

Y/N rips her heels off her feet, knowing she’s not going to be able to out run the stranger like this. “Where you goin’ pretty girl?” The man’s voice slurs out as he starts sprinting after her much quicker. “I just wanna talk!”

“Stay the fuck away from me!” Y/N takes a risky move as she bends down to grab a large rock. She conceals it in her hand, stopping in her tracks. She can’t run. She won’t make it. So she has to do what she’s good at… Fight.

The man goes to say something else, but Y/N doesn’t even give him a chance. She chucks the rock at his face, nailing him perfectly on the forehead. There’s a loud thud when the stone connects, but due to his drunken state, it only seems to stun him for a moment. Suddenly his eyes transformed from that buzzed haze to something darker. Something much more predatory. Y/N’s heart rate spikes out of fear as he starts stalking forward again, much slower this time.

“You stupid bitch,” he growls lowly. “What’d you go and do that for? I said I just wanted to talk!” Suddenly hes lunging forward and his hand grips her wrist. Y/N reacted on instinct. She swung, her fist connecting solidly with his jaw. The impact sent a jolt up her arm, but he barely flinched.

Instead, he growled, his temper flaring. “Knock that shit off,” he spat, yanking her closer.

She struggled, twisting, her knee flying up to hit his groin, but he dodged at the last second. His hands roamed where they weren’t wanted, his grip bruising, and Y/N’s breath hitched—

Her phone hit the ground with a sharp clatter.

“Y/N?” Phil’s voice was still there, but now much more distant than she wishes it was. “Y/N, what’s happening?!”

“Maybe if your friend was a bit nicer to me at the bar, this wouldn’t be happening,” he whispers into Y/N’s ear as she continues to writhe against his hold. “I was just lookin’ for some company…” Y/N holds back a sob as he moves to smell the crook of her neck. “You weren’t my first choice, but I guess you’ll do.”

She grunted, wrestling against the man’s grip. “Get—off me—”

The sound of pounding footsteps sent a chill down her spine. But they weren’t coming from behind her.

They were coming toward her. Fast.

Before the drunk could react, Phil was there.

He didn’t hesitate. Phil’s fist crashed into the side of the guy’s face with a sickening crack, the force of it whipping his head sideways. The man barely had time to register the pain before Phil grabbed him by the collar, yanking him forward and slamming his knee into his stomach. A strangled gasp left the guy as he doubled over, but Phil wasn’t done. He twisted, flipping the man onto the pavement with a heavy thud.

“You think you’re real tough?” Phil growled, towering over him. His voice was low, dangerous. “Putting your hands on someone who told you no?”

The guy groaned, trying to push himself up. Phil kicked his legs out from under him, sending him sprawling again. “Stay the fuck down.”

But the drunk wasn’t smart. He lunged, swinging wildly—

Phil caught his arm mid-swing, twisting it until the man howled. He drove his elbow into the guy’s face, snapping his head back against the pavement with a sharp crack. Blood trickled from his busted nose, his eyes dazed. Phil crouched down, gripping the front of his shirt and hauling him up just enough so their faces were inches apart.

“If I ever see you again,” he said, voice low and controlled, “I swear on my fucking life that they will not be able to identify your body when I’m done.”

The man whimpered, finally going limp. Phil shoved him back onto the ground and stood, breathing hard. He spun back around to see Y/N sitting on the floor, body shaking uncontrollably. Tears stain her cheeks as she stares at the scene in front of her. The strange man lies on the pavement, knocked out cold, blood being the only visible thing on his face. But that’s not what pulls her out of her daze. She sees Phil’s knuckles and it makes her eyes begin to water once more. They’re busted up and bruised. She knows he had to have done extensive damage to his hands with how hard he hit the man.

Phil bends down, grabbing Y/N’s phone for her before crouching down in front of the woman. He can still see a lingering fear in her eyes, and that nagging voice in his head makes him think that it might be him she’s scared of after that whole display, and the thought of that makes him sick to his stomach.

He watches as she opens her mouth to say something, but he stops her. He gently hooks his arms through hers, lifting her off the ground. “C’mon…” he says tenderly, holding her in his arms like an oversized teddy bear. “Let’s get you back.”

Y/N doesn’t know why, but her body reacts instinctively to his hold. Her legs wrap around his waist, arms securing themselves behind his neck. She buries her head into the crook of his shoulder, breathing in his comforting yet familiar sense as he carries her back towards the hotel.

She can practically hear the wheels spinning in his mind. He’s overthinking. She couldn’t blame him. Her mind was moving pretty quickly as well. All that transpired in the last fifteen minutes was traumatic for both of them. Y/N bites her lip, guilt flooding her system as she realizes that Phil heard everything. He heard the guy practically tackle her to the ground. He heard her screaming, fighting for her life.

Then she realizes she has more than that to feel guilty over. Her eyes squeeze shut in embarrassment as she remembers that she didn’t even thank him for coming to her rescue. She was just so stunned in that moment that she couldn’t even fathom saying anything. All she remembers was registering intermittent flashes of him beating the living crap out of the guy before it was suddenly over.

Then he turned to her, that soft gaze in his eyes. The one she’s noticed is reserved specially for her. But then it changed. He became self-conscious, unsure almost. It made her feel terrible for clinging onto him like this as he carries her into the lobby and over to the elevators. She couldn’t even tell him that it was okay. That she wasn’t mad at him for what he did. She just sat in silence like an idiot. And yet he was still chivalrous enough to be her human chauffeur.

Before she could even process where they were, Phil stops walking. She doesn’t want to lift her head up. She doesn’t want to unwrap her legs. All she wants is to stay like this. Him holding her. It not only settles her hammering heart, but it quenches that desire she’s always had for him. That need to be more than just his friend. The “kid” he has always been protective over.

Phil doesn’t make a move to set her down. Instead he rubs her back softly, his mind still full of anger. Anger at the girls for letting her go, anger at Y/N for thinking it was a good idea to walk alone, anger at that dumb asshole he left bleeding out for even looking in Y/N’s direction, but most of all… anger at himself. He should’ve gone with her. He should’ve called. He should’ve gotten there faster when he heard that panic in her voice. He should’ve gone to protect her first instead of beating the guy senseless right in front of her. Y/N didn’t deserve to see that.

She probably hates him for subjecting her to that.

Obviously they’ve seen each other in the ring. But Y/N has never seen him lose his cool like that. He just didn’t know how to stop it. His body was on autopilot and his only mission was to get Y/N out of that situation.

He then realized they’ve been standing outside her hotel room for almost five minutes in complete silence. He reluctantly clears his throat, whispering, “We’re here, kid.”

Y/N exhales, managing to curl up into a smaller ball than she already was. Phil feels an odd warmth spread through his body as she clutches to him tighter, “I know,” she mumbles back quietly.

Phil swallows the lump in his throat, “Well, you should probably–”

“Don’t let me go,” she asks, no, pleads with him. Her voice is so small as she somehow manages to cling to him even tighter. “Please…” her face flushes red with embarrassment. “I don’t wanna be alone.”

He stops for a moment, his mind fully registering what she’s saying. He hesitates before finally speaking, “Do you want me to stay?” He asks gently.

She finally manages to lift her head up. Her e/c eyes are completely glossed over, her cheeks puffy from how much she had cried. Phil can see the small wet spot on his shoulder from the silent tears she shed on the way here, but he doesn’t care. In fact, it made him feel better knowing she felt safe enough to cry on him.

“Would you?” She looks him in the eye for a brief second before she loses her courage, eyes flickering down to the floor. “You don’t have to stay for the whole night if you don’t want to. I just– I don’t think I can go to sleep by myself. Not after–”

“Hey,” Phil stops her, setting her down on the floor as tenderly as possible. Y/N looks heartbroken for a moment before he lifts her chin up with his finger, gazing into her eyes. His lips curl into that soothing smile that she loves. The one where the dimple in his right cheek pops out, making his soft side more apparent. “I’ll stay. You don’t gotta give me an out. I’m here, Y/N/N. For as long as you need me.”

Y/N’s chin feels like it’s on fire from the gentleness of his touch. She blinks slowly, not finding it inside of her to break eye contact. She nods, reaching in her pocket in order to grab her room key. She fumbles for a moment, but manages to get her hands on it. She reluctantly turns around to open the door, her hand shaking as she goes to press it against the electronic lock. There’s a small whir and click that indicates it’s opened. The silence between them isn’t awkward or uncomfortable, it’s familiar. It eases her anxiety to know that he’s behind her, protecting her.

She feels the buzz that was once infiltrating her system slowly dissipating. Getting almost attacked is a great way to sober up. She’ll be sure to keep that one in the back of her mind for later.

Her room is relatively large, a king sized mattress in the middle of the room. The walls are adorned with basic paintings that brighten the dull brown of the wall. There’s a desk in the corner, her script for the show the following day strewn across it, different colors of highlighter covering it. There’s random pieces of her clothing thrown haphazardly on the chair in the corner of the room, even a few pair of shoes are carelessly tossed near the bathroom door. It makes Phil smile at how they had only been there for less than a day and she already managed to make her hotel room look lived-in.

Y/N fidgets with her hands as she stands near the bathroom. Her eyes sporadically moving from him to everything else in the room. “Um… you can sit down if you want,” she gestures to the bed. “I’m just gonna go change.”

Phil nods silently and Y/N continues staring at him for another elongated moment before grabbing a pair of pajamas from her open suitcase and disappearing into the bathroom. As soon as the door shuts, Phil exhales, collapsing onto the bed. He leans forward, his elbows digging into his thighs as he rubs his face frustratedly. Things aren’t weird between them, but they are certainly not normal. He tries not to overthink it, she did just go through something terrible, so her behavior is justified, but part of him feels like maybe there’s something deeper going on.

Looking in the mirror, Y/N can already see a small bruise forming oner her wrist and on her hip from where the man had grabbed her. She stares at the forming marks, her heart beating faster as she relives the moment in her head. If Phil hadn’t shown up when he did… she doesn’t know what would have happened. A flash of the man bloodied and knocked out on the pavement crosses her mind and she feels guilty, but she smiles softly at the thought. Not because he’s hurt, but because Phil was the one who did it. Y/N feels nothing but relief and gratitude for the way her best friend came to her defense, and it’s about time that she thanked him properly for it.

She walks out of the bathroom, her hands crossed over her stomach to block the visibility of the bruise on her her hip. Phil hears her, his posture straightening, but he doesn’t look back. He doesn’t know if he can face her without losing his mind again. There’s too many emotions swirling in his head for him to thing straight. Y/N can see the tension in his shoulders and she exhales sadly. She grabs a wash cloth from the cabinet in her room, walking back to the bathroom to wet it before finishing her journey to Phil. She sits down directly next to him, reaching out to grab his hands without saying a word.

His brows furrow as he feels her soft skin touch his own. Her hands are perfect. Small yet decorated with little calluses to show how often she lifts and how much work she puts in to have the career she does. He watches her as she carefully cleans his knuckles. She treats him like he’s a piece of glass in danger of breaking. Her lips part slightly as she continues to work across his hands gently. The dried blood disappears with every wipe. He winces slightly, sucking in a sharp breath as she presses a tad bit too hard on a sore spot.

“Sorry,” Y/N immediately rushes out, pulling the towel away. “Are you okay? Well, obviously you’re not okay, that was a dumb question, sorry.”

“Y/N…” he gets her attention, trying to prevent her from getting nervous enough to ramble. He tilts his head in an attempt to try and get her to look at him. His attempt was successful, Y/N not being able to fight looking at him anymore. “I’m okay.” He nods reassuringly, placing his hand on hers. He looks apprehensive to do so, but Y/N soothes his mind by lacing their fingers together, her eyes still tracing over his wounds. “Are you?” He asks gently, letting himself relax into her touch.

“No,” she says honestly before gazing into his eyes once more, “but I’d be a lot worse off if it wasn’t for you.”

His face falls and his anger rises as he thinks about what could have happened to her. He goes to clench his fist, but the way her finger brushes softly against his hands prevents him from doing so. After a moment, his anger dissipates into disappointment. Dissapointemtn in himself specifically. He sighs, closing his eyes, “I’m sorry.”

Y/N looks at him bewildered, “What?” She furrows her eyebrows in complete confusion, “What do you have to be sorry for?”

“I made you watch me beat the crap out of some douche bag,” he laughs but there is no humor behind it. It’s bitter, almost self-deprecating. “Instead of going straight to you like I should have and getting you out of there, I decided to sit there and throw punches,” he shakes his head. “I thought I had better control over myself… You didn’t deserve to see that.”

“Phil,” Y/N stops him, rapidly shaking her head. “You saved me,” she forces him to look at her, using the hand that isn’t holding his to turn his head towards her. “You don’t have to say sorry. You–” she stutters, trying to find the right words. “I– God,” she lets out a humorless laugh. “If anyone needs to be sorry it’s me.” He looks at her with a bewildered expression. She can see he’s about to protest, so she makes sure to finish her thoughts before he can. “I shouldn’t have walked alone. I should have called you or someone else here to come get me. Hell, even an Uber would’ve worked, but I didn’t.” She shakes her head as she dwells on her own foolishness. “And then instead of thanking you for protecting my stupid ass, I stare at you like a deer in the headlights, makin’ you think you did something wrong by protecting me.” She bites the inside of her cheek trying to fight off her frustration. “I’m the one who should be apologizing to you. Not the other way around.”

A small silence stretches between them. Y/N starts getting antsy once more, not knowing what to do with the silence. She rubs the pad of her finger over the veins on the back of his hand as a way to try and calm her rising anxieties. The only thing that brings her out of her thoughts is the small chuckle that rumbles through Phil’s chest. Her eyes snap back upward, a lost expression covering her face.

“You were pretty stupid for walking on your own,” he chastises with a playful smile.

Y/N rolls her eyes, pushing his chest with no real bite behind it. She tries to keep an angry face, but she can’t help letting a laugh of her own out. “Hey, only I can say I’m stupid, not you.”

It felt nice to have such a lighthearted interaction. Perhaps it was a bit premature considering the weight of what happened still looms over them, but it was a nice reprieve. Even if it was only for a moment.

Phil loves watching her laugh. The way the crowd feet near her eyes become more prominent, the way her teeth manage to sparkle like a cheesy toothpaste commercial. She’s such a light in the world. His hand tightens ever so slightly around hers, like he’s trying to find a physical way to keep her tethered to him.

“You scare the hell out of me sometimes, you know that?” He mutters, his tone holding a much deeper emotion. One she’s not used to.

She lets out a deep breath, a small pout on her face. She leans down, resting her head on his chest as she scoots closer to him. Phil allows her to snuggle up to him, enjoying the feeling of her being near him. “I don’t mean to…” she tries to keep her yawn at bay, but it eventually slips past her lips. “I don’t try to find trouble, trouble finds me,” she says with a small grin.

“Hey, I’m being serious,” he says, his voice firm but not unkind. It’s just a lot more gruff than gentle, not that she minds. She likes the small growl in his voice. He uses his other hand that’s not holding hers to rub up and down her arm. He watches as chills form on her skin as he rubs slow and steady strokes across the surface. ““You go running around on your own, get yourself into situations like that, and I’m supposed to just—what? Sit back and hope you’re okay?”

“You act like I’ve made it my mission in life to stress you out,” Y/N pokes his side, trying to lighten his mood. She doesn’t want him to be upset or worried anymore.

“At this point, I think you might have,” He quips back, his tone bordering on playful, but the look in his eyes says otherwise. He looks down at her, Y/N craning her neck up to meet his gaze, “Kid, I can’t—” He exhales sharply, rolling his shoulders like he’s trying to shake off a feeling he doesn’t want to admit to. “I don’t like thinking about what could happen to you. I see red when you’re not okay. And I’d do anything—anything—to make sure you’re safe.”

The weight of his words lingers in the space between them. It’s raw, unpolished—just like him.

Y/N exhales slowly, letting her fingers tighten slightly around his. There’s nothing playful in the way she looks at him now, no quips or teasing remarks. Just understanding. Phil doesn’t pull away. If anything, he holds on tighter. And for a while, neither of them speak. There’s no need to.

After a while, exhaustion starts to creep in. Y/N’s body grows heavier, her blinks slower, her head tilting just slightly as she nuzzles herself deeper into him. Her nose grazes the side of his neck, making his breath hitch. There’s a certain completeness having her this close. He tries to swallow the feelings blooming in his chest, but watching the way her eyes droop, he can’t help but admire her relaxed features.

Phil notices her exhaustion immediately. His protective instincts of her are second nature by now. “Alright, that’s enough excitement for one night,” he mutters, his tone softer but still firm. “You need to get some sleep.”

Y/N hums in protest but doesn’t argue as he helps her up, guiding her towards the head of the bed with that careful, steady touch of his. His arm is coiled around her waist as he pulls the blanket back, gently helping her lay down. He tugs the comforter over her, smoothing it down like it’s just another thing he can control.

Then he steps away, moving toward the chair across the room. He doesn’t plan on leaving her alone for the next few months, even if that means sleeping in uncomfortable hotel chairs. He’ll wait until she falls asleep before he can let himself relax. But before he can sit, Y/N shifts, pushing herself up on her elbows.

“Wait,” she says quickly, her voice a little smaller than before.

Phil pauses, turning back. “What?”

“Can you…” Her fingers twist in the blanket, hesitation flickering in her eyes before she forces herself to just say it. “Can you lay with me?”

Phil stills. His lips part slightly, like he wasn’t expecting that. “You sure?”

She nods. “Please.”

He exhales through his nose, scrubbing a hand over his jaw. “Yeah, alright,” he mutters, like it’s no big deal. Like his heart isn’t hammering in his chest.

He moves back to the bed, slipping beneath the covers on the other side. The second his body hits the mattress, Y/N shuffles over to him. He doesn’t stop her, wanting to feel her warmth just as much as she wants to feel his. Not that he’s going to admit it out loud. When she presses into his chest, everything in him settles. His arm drapes over her waist, pulling her in like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Y/N exhales, relaxing against him, her fingers resting lightly against his chest.

A beat passes. Then another.

“You’re my hero, you know that?” she murmurs, her voice thick with sleep.

Phil huffs a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah, well… someone’s gotta look out for you,” he mutters. But then he leans down, pressing a firm, lingering kiss to her forehead. “I’ll always come to your rescue,” he says, quieter this time. “Whenever you need me.”

And as Y/N drifts off in his arms, safe and secure, Phil lets himself believe that, for once, everything is exactly as it should be.