#thank you for the question! I loved answering them!

[areislol]

hi!! i love ur writing sm and if you could make a dr ratio x pregnant f!reader omg that would just be superb like i wanna see this man slowly realize he’s going soft like ahhhhhhhh im just obsessed with him but i love ur writing sm ur amazing

pairings. dr. ratio x f!pregnant reader

warnings. just fluff.

a/n. thank you so much for your kind words! i love the idea of dr. ratio slowly realizing he’s going soft for his pregnant partner omg!!! also i kind of made it into three parts in a way.

wc. 1k

synopsis. dr ratio being soft with his pregnant wife.

recommend listening to: love. - wave to earth

‎‎ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤSoft Spot

The first time Dr. Ratio noticed something was different, it was subtle. You moved a bit slower, a hand resting idly over your stomach more often than not. You were always warm, but now you seemed to radiate a different kind of warmth—a quiet, almost sacred glow. He didn't question it at first. Maybe it was exhaustion; maybe you were just adjusting to a change in your routine. But then he started paying attention.

You were sick more often. You turned your nose up at certain foods that you used to love, eyes filled with frustration that made him arch a brow. And then the realization struck him like a calculated equation coming together at last.

You were pregnant.

At first, Dr. Ratio didn't quite know what to do with that information. He sat with it, processed it the way he would a difficult medical case. The logical part of him knew what pregnancy entailed—the symptoms, the risks, the way your body would change to accommodate the new life growing inside you.

But what he didn’t expect was the way it changed him.

He caught himself reaching out more. A steadying hand on your lower back when you walked, a gentle nudge to remind you to sit down when you insisted you were fine.

He found himself monitoring your meals, his sharp eyes noticing when you hadn’t eaten enough. When you winced or sighed in discomfort, his jaw would tighten, his fingers twitching with the impulse to do something, anything, to make it easier for you.

And it terrified him.

Dr. Ratio was not a man who coddled. He was pragmatic, and efficient—someone who prioritized reason over sentimentality. But with you? With you, it was different. He caught himself lingering longer in bed in the mornings, his fingers tracing lazy circles over your belly, as if trying to understand the life growing within.

He caught himself talking to your stomach when he thought you were asleep, murmuring things he would never admit to in the light of day.

“You’re making your mother work too hard,” he’d say in a hushed tone, his palm pressing over the slight swell. “She’s stubborn. You’ll probably be just like her.”

You had giggled sleepily at that once, shifting closer into his embrace. “You love it,” you whispered.

He didn't answer. He didn't have to.

As the months passed, he softened in ways he never expected. The sharp edges of his personality remained, but now they bent in quiet ways when it came to you. He let you rest your head on his shoulder more often.

He indulged you when you had odd cravings, even if he teased you about them relentlessly. And at night, when you shifted uncomfortably, unable to find the right position, he would wordlessly pull you into his arms, guiding you into a space where you could breathe, where you could rest.

Dr. Ratio wasn’t a man easily shaken. But as he watched you carry his child, as he felt tiny movements under his palm for the first time, he knew—he was a goner.

— (yet another incident)

He had never considered himself the sentimental type. In fact, he prided himself on being the opposite—rational, detached, and entirely too jaded to be swayed by emotions. But then there was you.

And now, there was this.

He leans against the doorway of your shared bedroom, watching as you struggle to tie your shoelaces over the curve of your growing belly. A sight that, logically, shouldn’t make his chest feel tight.

“Tch. You’re hopeless,” he mutters, pushing off the doorframe and crouching down in front of you. His gloved hands bat yours away as he swiftly ties your laces with effortless precision.

You pout, crossing your arms. “I could’ve done it myself, you know.”

“Sure. And I could perform surgery blindfolded. Doesn’t mean it’s a good idea.”

Despite his teasing, he’s careful—too careful. As if the smallest touch could shatter you. He clicks his tongue, annoyed at himself. Since when had he become so delicate?

Your laugh is light, playful. “You’re such a grump. Admit it—you like taking care of me.”

Dr. Ratio scoffs, straightening up. “Don’t flatter yourself.” But his hand lingers on your knee for a second too long before he pulls away.

You smirk, knowing him too well. “You’re soft for me.”

“I’m efficient,” he corrects, crossing his arms. “If I don’t do things for you, you’ll just struggle and whine about it. So really, this is self-preservation.”

“Uh-huh. Keep telling yourself that, doc.”

he huffs but doesn’t argue.

He doesn’t tell you about the way his heart clenches every time he sees you absentmindedly rubbing your stomach.

He doesn’t mention how he’s started scheduling fewer late-night research sessions just so he can be home earlier.

And he certainly doesn’t say how the thought of you—both of you—has begun to outshine even the sharpest of his logic.

But as you beam at him, your fingers brushing over his in a fleeting touch, Dr. Ratio has to face the truth:

He’s going soft.

And against all odds, he doesn’t mind one bit.

—

If you knew anything about Dr. Ratio, you know just how much he liked silence. It gave him space to think, to analyze, to breathe.

But right now, the silence felt different.

Softer. Warmer.

Because it was filled with the sound of your steady breathing as you slept beside him, his fingers absentmindedly tracing the curve of your stomach.

He didn’t know when this became a habit. Didn’t know when he started reaching for you in his sleep or why the feeling of your growing belly under his touch made something tighten in his chest.

It was irrational. Unscientific.

And yet.

He couldn’t stop.

His hand lingered, palm resting over where your child—his child—grew. The thought should have scared him. Maybe, once, it would have.

But now, with you curled against him, his body instinctively moulding around yours, all he could think was—

This isn’t so bad.

Maybe… this is what home feels like.

note: if you would like to be added to the honkai star rail taglist pls just ask me!! dont be shy

taglist 🏷️:  @tomansimp @one-offmind @miitchiji @dainsleif-when-playable @momoewn @stygianoir @irethepotato @v4an @imetsk @fiannee @sunnyf4lls @yuri-is-silly @khoiyyu @daydreaming-paradies if im missing anyone please tell me because i have an inkling feeling i missed a few..

liking + following + reblogs are very much appreciated!!

[synvil]

if ur up for it maybe a smutty part 2 for the tiktok trend where reader doesnt say ily back? have a great day!!

say it back pt. 2 // bf! rafe cameron

a/n: my first request!! thank you anonnie! (☆´3｀) i hope you enjoy, even if it’s pretty short!

synopsis : rafe teaches you to think twice before playing a prank.

warnings : nsfw ahead! penetration, crying, spanking, cum swallowing, etc.

tiktok trends masterlist !

“screw that, i’ll spend the next couple hours pounding those three words into your damn mind so you won’t ‘forget’ again.”

“w-wai—“ ignoring your protests, you gasp when he suddenly brings his hands down to the waistband of your bottoms and rips them down your legs without hesitation. “rafe!”

rafe unbuckles his belt and lowers his slacks just low enough to let his already hardening erection spring free. at the sight of you backing up, trying to appease him by raising your hands defensively and explaining, rafe growls low and grips onto your ankle and drags you down the edge of the couch before flipping you onto your stomach, pulling your hips so your ass hung in the air.

and that’s how you spent the next hour, your face a teary, drooling mess as your cry out endlessly, your arms behind your back, wrists pinned together by rafe’s hand as he pounds into your pretty little pussy mercilessly, his other hand recording the sight.

“great, barry’s callin’. how should i explain to him for my absence, hm?” rafe condescendingly smirks as he waves his phone in your direction. “should i answer the call and let him hear the reason why?”

your breathing is ragged but you slur a weak, whimpered no, pleading for him to deny the call. “r-rafey.. ‘m sorry! please-“

rafe grunts, unamused at your apology as he tosses the phone onto the cushion beside your head, the device still vibrating due to barry’s calling. “too late. should’ve thought about the consequences, sweetheart.” rafe mocks, his hand delivering a sweet sounding smack across your cheeks as he thrust his hips deep against yours, making you moan loudly, your body trembling from the nth orgasm in the last hour.

rafe could feel his climax approaching, his own breathing becoming heavier as he groans out, feeling his hips pick up the pace.

“do you remember what you say to me, now?” you’re too exhausted and a blubbering sobbing mess, breasts and body shaking with every thrust he gives to register his words. upon no answer, rafe spanks you again making you cry out and jump. “i asked you a question, darling.”

“y-yes; i remember!”

rafe squeezes the flesh in his hand and he grins. “you gonna play that little joke on me again?”

“n-no, i promise- i won’t ever again.”

taking your words as genuine, rafe suddenly pulls out and pulls on your body to bring you to the ground and guides your head to his throbbing cock. “prove it. be a good girl and do your job.”

understanding what he needed, you fall to your knees and bring your lips to his tip and lick it, before fully wrapping your mouth around him and rafe hitches a breath.

his hand jerks himself for a few minutes before he slips a moan out of his lips and seconds later, his cum spurts into your mouth, you instinctively swallowing every drop.

he pants lightly before pulling out and crouching down, cupping your cheek lightly. “you alright, sweetheart?”

you sniffle, wiping your eyes free from your tears and you nod, looking up at him and he smiles softly, using his thumb to wipe any stray ones.

“i’m sorry if i went a little too rough, baby.” he murmurs and you shake your head. “i’m okay, rafey.”

“good. i love you, [name].”

“i love you more, rafe.”

a/n : not edited!! but thank you so much for the request anon, i hope you liked it and i apologize it’s so short!! feel free to request more <3

[stripedwolf88]

heyyyy thanks for tagging me

I wish people noticed how much I notice them. Or like the things I do for them that are specifically for them. Like it'd be cool if one day I do or say something that I remember about that person and I look up to them having that secret/soft smile like "of course you remembered haha"

Chocolate. Always chocolate.

Peanuts definitely. Cashews are fine but I like peanuts more.

Agathario. Enough said.

Either Legend of Korra or MLP FIM. (Okay it's actually glee but I hardly interact with the fandom anymore.)

One. It's English. (I don't know enough Spanish to put down two.)

Of like all time? Idk prob Paramore, P!nk, or Taylor Swift.

Oh this is fun because I've been reading both fanfic and an actual book recently. Okay so my book is Girls of Storm and Shadow by Natasha Ngan. And the last fanfic I read...I'll just say it's an agathario one and end it there HAHA.

Oh rainy weather all the way. I don't like when it's cold but I'll take it if there is rain. Also rain is great. The smell. The sound. The puddles. The way it looks.

I mean can I just say soda? More of an addiction really but...eh. Specifically Pepsi has been really good.

New questions ~

What's the most unexpected thing you said that has made someone laugh?

What's the color you choose as a "favorite color" when your actual favorite color is unavailable?

Do you think eating desserts such as pie and ice cream or hot brownie and ice cream should be eaten with a spoon or fork?

Do you open bottles with your non dominant hand like me?

How often do you restart your phone?

How often do you think you say I love you to your friends?

Do you have siblings?

What are your thoughts on having kids?

Is water wet?

How has your day been?

NP tags: @wonderrwoman00 @verdantsecretgardens @detective-jane-rizzoli @thearcher1003 (I actually want to see your answers to some of these 😌 hope that's okay)

Ten questions to ask a mutual

Instructions: prev asks ten questions and you answer them, then ask ten new ones and tag ten people to keep the chain going! I’ll go first

What is the weirdest thing you’ve eaten? (For me it’s the time I accidentally drank ants)

do you like purple or green more? (For me it’s a 50/50 I love them both)

what is your favorite two color color combo? (For me it’s purple and gold)

are you a cat or dog person? (Dogs 100%)

what is your favorite painting (Miranda by John William Waterhouse)

Mountains or beaches? (Mountains)

what’s your favorite dessert? (Lemon bars)

are you right or left handed? (Right but I used to be left handed)

salty or sweet? (Sweet)

summer or winter? (Winter)

I’m tagging 11 people but it’s whatever

@wra1th-k1ng

@bladevoyager

@tragedyanddust

@kindred-spirit-93

@urfavgreekmythnerd

@sickneurotic

@ry-diggity

@we-are-but-dead-stars

@thestarryfalls

@tamaruaart

@hermesmoly

[gottencents]

My Humps - Winter

pairing. idol!winter x aespa!addmember!reader

synopsis. during a casual weverse live, winter stands up to grab something, unknowingly turning her back to y/n. y/n playfully “covers” their eyes but quickly sneaks a glance, which fans instantly catch—leading to chaos in the comments and a flustered reaction from both.

[Weverse Live Stream - Winter & Y/N]

The chat was buzzing with excitement as fans flooded into the live stream, excited to see both Winter and Y/N. The two idols sat comfortably on the couch, both laughing and chatting with the fans. Y/N was leaning back, a soft smile on her face as she read through the comments, while Winter was sitting upright, her attention divided between responding to fans and relaxing.

“Thank you for all your love, guys!” Winter smiled warmly at the screen. “You all are so sweet! Let’s keep reading your messages.” She looked at the screen for a moment, then turned to Y/N, nudging her with her shoulder playfully. “What do you think, Y/N? Should we answer a few more questions before we sign off?”

Y/N chuckled softly, glancing at Winter. “Yeah, of course. We can’t leave without giving them a little more time.”

As Winter settled back down, she suddenly stood up to grab something off the coffee table in front of them. Y/N watched her for a moment, looking around for the item Winter was reaching for. As Winter bent down to pick up the item, her back was now to Y/N, and her posture gave way to a view that sent Y/N’s heart racing—a perfect view of Winter’s curves.

Flustered, Y/N quickly raised her hand to cover her eyes, embarrassed by the accidental peek. “Uhh, nope! Not looking!” she stammered, her face going slightly red.

Winter turned to look over her shoulder, noticing Y/N’s reaction. She paused, giving Y/N a teasing look. “Are you hiding from me?” Winter chuckled, raising an eyebrow. “I thought you were already used to being around me by now.”

Y/N, realizing how silly she must have looked, quickly tried to play it cool. “I… uh… no, I wasn’t hiding! Just, uh… making sure I wasn’t being too obvious.” She glanced at the screen nervously, her cheeks flushed. “I was just, you know, being polite!”

But when Y/N lowered her hand, the fans in the chat immediately took notice, their eyes going wide.

Chat:

gays4aespa: “Wait, why did Y/N cover her eyes though? 😳”

wiplash: “Y/N is hiding something!! 😏”

karinaismother: “I saw that! She was definitely looking. 😂”

summerintowinter: “Did Y/N just peek at Winter’s… 👀”

Y/N froze, realizing her mistake too late. She could feel the eyes of the fans through the screen. “Oh my god,” she muttered under her breath, trying to avoid looking directly at the chat.

Winter, ever the tease, turned back to Y/N with a smirk. “What’s wrong, Y/N? Are you embarrassed?” she asked, clearly enjoying Y/N’s discomfort.

Y/N let out a small laugh, trying to hide her face in her hands. “I’m not embarrassed! I… I didn’t mean to stare, okay?”

Winter crossed her arms, still smiling. “You don’t have to hide it. I’m sure they all saw,” she said, motioning to the chat. “Looks like you got caught.”

The chat exploded with reactions, fans loving the playful banter between the two.

Chat:

#1aespashooter: “Winter caught Y/N red-handed! 😂”

y/nbraincell: “I can’t believe this is happening. Y/N, you’re so obvious! 😜”

WinterBaby: “Y/N totally checked out Winter, and Winter knows it. 😏”

Y/N sighed dramatically, throwing her head back. “Okay, okay. You got me. I wasn’t trying to hide it! It just… happened!” She looked at Winter, who was still standing in front of her, looking far too pleased with herself.

Winter leaned over slightly, a playful gleam in her eyes. “I didn’t know you were so shy, Y/N,” she teased. “You can stare all you want, you know.”

Y/N’s eyes widened. “Winter!” she protested, though her tone was more flustered than serious. “Stop making it worse!”

Winter only grinned, brushing her hair over her shoulder as she leaned back into the couch. “Don’t worry, Y/N,” she said, her voice lowering a bit with a teasing lilt. “I don’t mind. You can check me out anytime.”

The chat went wild at Winter’s bold comment, fans loving every second of the exchange between the two.

Chat:

asepamygay: “Wait, now Winter is encouraging Y/N? 😱”

winnersluvwinter: “THEY’RE FLIRTING, I CAN’T!! 😳”

My4Ever: “I’m loving this! Winter and Y/N are giving us all the feels! 😍”

Y/N laughed nervously, shaking her head. “Okay, okay, let’s get back to the questions before I embarrass myself further,” she said quickly, trying to steer the conversation away from the teasing.

Winter, still smiling, sat back down beside Y/N, nudging her playfully with her elbow. “You’re cute when you’re flustered,” she said softly, keeping her voice light.

Y/N blinked, her heart skipping a beat. “Stop,” she said softly, a shy smile creeping onto her lips.

The fans in the chat were eating it up.

Chat:

polyforwiny/n: “Winter calling Y/N cute?! THEY’RE SO CUTE TOGETHER. 😭”

aespa2028: “Honestly, Y/N and Winter have the best chemistry”

Y/N and Winter shared a brief, quiet moment before Winter nudged Y/N again, causing her to laugh.

“Alright,” Y/N said, catching her breath. “No more distractions. We’re here for the fans, not to make a spectacle of myself.”

Winter grinned and raised her hands in mock surrender. “Fine, fine. But I think the fans liked it more than you think.”

As the live stream continued, the banter between Y/N and Winter carried on, and the fans couldn’t stop commenting on their chemistry. Despite the teasing, it was clear to everyone watching that there was a deep, playful connection between the two idols—one that only seemed to grow stronger the more they interacted.

[truelovepolinator]

State of the Ship Address: Where we stand after the Hard Launch

Well, this has certainly been an interesting week, hasn’t it?

Last Saturday, I was the happiest of shippers, sharing why I’m so sure it’s Luke. By Wednesday, I was sharing my thoughts on why Nicola’s “just a friend” comment was nothing to worry about. Yes, truly, Nicola’s comment was a hit to the ship. A very palpable hit. Yet, we sailed on. Then on Thursday, well, the ship very nearly sunk with Luke’s Hugo Boss “hard launch” of Antonia. Nearly.

There’s one thing I’ll say I know for sure. Nicola knew she was getting that question about fans wanting her to marry Luke and she had her answer prepared. I have no doubt about that. In all likelihood, her people asked him to ask that question. Otherwise, it’s out of the box for that kind of industry/awards promotion interview. It’s not an interview for the fans, it’s for the voters. She WANTED to dispel the idea that she and Luke might have fallen in love on set because that perception would hurt her chances at the SAG Awards.

There’s no question that Nic and Luke decided together that the time had come to send an armed nuclear torpedo into the ship for once and for all. And so, they did. Indeed, it’s only thanks to our wits, grit, and some very skillful maneuvering that we managed to keep the ship from sinking to the bottom of the ocean. We may be taking on water, but we’re bailing it faster, and we’re still afloat, if only just.

This does not, however, mean that I’m ignoring what they’ve said this week. On the contrary, I’m paying very, very close attention. I’m paying attention not only to their words (or in Luke’s case, the story he’s telling with that hard launch), but also to the subtext, the backstory, the character histories, and the outtakes. I’m paying close attention both to what they’ve told us and to what they haven’t.

I’m thinking about every bit of it. I am, by nature, very analytical. In the Lukola intelligence community, I’d say I’m more of an analyst than a detective. I don’t go out there gathering information (tracking every tag, monitoring friends, family, adjacents, finding old, hidden content, etc.). I don’t even know how to get metadata from Instagram. I’d be grateful if someone could tell me.

But when the detectives bring me evidence, I analyze the hell out of it. There are great detectives out there, but that’s not my skillset. I’m great at sitting at my desk and studying the evidence presented to identify patterns, interpret clues, and assemble those clues into a watertight case.

I thought that’s what I had, a watertight case. And you need your case to be watertight when you’re sailing these rough seas, right?

Then this week, Nicola and Luke decided to tell me my case had fallen apart, and to be honest, I’m not sure how I feel. I’m not as devastated as I thought I might be. I think that’s because I’m still not sure I believe them. They’ve both told us the same thing this week, that they are absolutely, positively not together. They’ve told us in no uncertain terms. And I always thought I would believe them if that time came. And yet, there’s something just a little too suspicious and convenient about the timing for me to trust it entirely. It doesn’t quite pass the smell test.

To be clear, I’m not saying I definitely don’t believe them. I think it’s very possible they’ve told us the truth this week and we simply have to live with it. We have to shift our ship back to “endgame” mode, and out of “happening now” mode.

In some ways, this would be a relief. If I actually accepted that they are not together at all at this point, I could begin to let them go. If I don’t see their launch coming, why hang around? The wait for endgame could be eons. I love them together, but I could do a hell of a lot of other things with my time in the meantime. Why do I need to follow and discuss their every move if it’s not headed to the only result I care about? I could check out completely and let them do their thing.

I’ll watch Bridgerton, and their other work when it looks interesting, and otherwise peace out. I don’t have to be “a fan” to enjoy their work. I have loads of favorite actors whose work I love, and I follow very few of them on socials. I could simply shift NicLuke into that category and move on.

I don’t actually have to care so much about them. All this parasocial bs takes a lot of time and energy, and while that investment of time and energy is good for them because we keep them in the public discourse, it’s not necessarily the highest, best use of our time for ourselves, is it? I could just let it go. We could all just let it go. Wouldn’t that be a relief?

The problem is that I do care about them. They got us hooked during that World Tour and now we’re invested. I’m invested. I’ve put a lot into them and I’d like a return on my investment, thanks. I want to see them happy. Together. I want to see them happy together. Many of us do. So, what if we don’t get that?

Well, I’ll come back to that question. But right now, I’m more interested in the question of WHY. Why did they decide now was the time to torpedo the ship? After all these months of weird, yet skillful combination of utter silence and semi-explicit hints and breadcrumbs. Why now, after a year of active shipping, seven full months after the WT ended, long after Bridgerton 3-month ratings were locked, why spontaneously this week? And why did they do it in such a coordinated way? The SAG nomination, yes, but is there more to it?

I have more theories and variations on theories than I can count. But here are the four key interpretations I want to explore.

It’s exactly what I said this week with Nicola’s interview and my quick post on Thursday. They are still together, with major life changes ahead, and Nicola is up for a SAG. They need more privacy than ever AND Nicola needs to distance herself from the “they fell in love on-set” narrative so that she can be taken seriously as the terrific actor she is, who acted her ass off in Season 3. She doesn’t want to be seen as someone who was only that good because she was “really falling in love.”

They’re genuinely not together, Luke is actually with Antonia (whether on-and-off or all along) and they decided to shut down the shipping now purely because it was impacting Nic’s SAG nomination (see 1 for details). Or maybe L also decided it was time to launch to take the invasive scrutiny off his family.

They’re not together, L is with A, and Nic knew he was going to take her to the HB event, so she prepared fans and pre-empted any “poor, rejected Nicola” perception by saying what she did during her interview.

They were together, and now it’s over (not mutually exclusive with 2 or 3).

You’ll notice none of these theories turn on Nicola’s hypothetical romantic relationship with Jake. This is largely because I have always said that simply isn’t a romantic relationship. And regardless, it’s not relevant to this week’s developments as the state of her relationship with Jake is unchanged from the past few months. That’s not a new factor in this week’s decision.

Obviously, number 1 above is my preferred explanation. It still continues to be the only explanation that makes sense of absolutely everything we’ve seen. INCLUDING Nicola’s words in that interview, and even Luke taking A to that event if you follow the logic of protecting themselves at a critical time both personally and professionally. It’s easy to forget all the extensive evidence pointing to this, but a review of my recent posts will refresh you. There is much to this saga that literally only makes sense if Lukola is real and the other apparent relationships are PR fakery/fuckery to keep our eyes off the truth.

However, this week, they have actively told us that is not the case. So, we owe it to ourselves to be emotionally and intellectually honest and to be open to the other possibilities as well.

Okay, so let’s talk about options 2 and 3. Both posit that Luke and Antonia are really together. Or at least casually dating. It is certainly possible that Luke simply wanted or needed a date to this event and Antonia is a casual date. Certainly, their body language is not particularly close or affectionate in most of the photos or videos. And A clearly does not calm Luke’s anxiety and event nerves like Nic always could and did. And they didn’t seem to hold hands naturally, nor did their arms around each other seem particularly close or natural in most of the photos and videos we saw. And yet, they did walk and pose arm-in-arm as a couple. No arguments there.

It has been widely noted that the Daily Mail story featuring Luke attending this event with his “girlfriend Antonia” was published mere minutes after the first event photos were published. And the story talked way more about A and her vague resume/background than about Luke. For all the world, it sure looks like this appearance was designed to give Ant a PR boost with a story pre-planted and ready to roll. But that doesn’t necessarily mean they aren’t together.

There is one video recorded inside that shows them in a different light. They seem to be enjoying themselves together, laughing, smiling, and talking close. However, there was loud music, it seems, so all talking needed to be close. We saw this when Luke talked to David Beckham as well. David was leaning in and Luke was talking directly in his ear, so clearly, volume was an issue. But he did have his hand on her back and she even copped a feel of his celebrated lukey newts butt. Yes, that video looked very couply indeed. Again, no arguments.

Did I like it? Of course not. Obviously, I hated it. I loathed it even. Do I wish the whole evening would crawl away and sink itself into the bottom of the ocean in lieu of our very leaky ship? Yes. But that video still exists, as does the other photographic and videographic evidence.  So, it’s irrefutable, right?

Almost. There is one thing that rankles a bit in that video. And indeed, about all the Luke & A stuff that came out so quickly. Literally, it all dropped faster than even the Beckham stuff, and Beckham was the host of this event. Why did it all hit so fast? Okay, sure, we already established it was at least partly planned PR for A. But why was that video so exclusively focused on the two of them specifically? What was the videographer doing shooting them from behind, ostensibly “in secret and candid,” for so long? Why so much footage (edited from pieces, therefore taken over time) of the two of them specifically, including that saucy, little butt grab?

If indeed this evening were intended to launch A with the explicit intentions of 1) blowing up the ship and 2) promoting A as the official girlfriend, then it’s not hard to imagine Luke’s PR handler/escort for the evening whispering a little encouragement in his ear. Something like, “It’s not really playing yet, you need to give it more. You two need to get cozy, amp it up, and we’ll get it on video.” Of course, it’s also entirely possible that this “canoodling inside” video was always planned as the final blow to seal the deal after the red carpet content hit.

And, to be fair, it’s also possible that they simply relaxed once they got inside and started having fun. If theirs is a real relationship, whether long-term, serious or a casual dating one, then that would make sense. But why were they so tense on the red carpet to begin with if they’re so close? Why did they look so uncomfortable? Either way, it seems someone had a very clear intention to capture “proof” of the relationship.

Now let’s shift gears and talk about Nicola briefly. Let’s start with this. Nicola is a terrific, gifted, hard-working actor. She deserves all the accolades. She’s worked hard to achieve the success she’s now enjoying and she sure as hell deserves her SAG Award nomination for her beautiful, delicate performance that was by turns moving, heartbreaking, heartwarming, and hilarious. She’s the real deal. And she’s unbelievably, ridiculously beautiful. To my eyes, many times more beautiful and sexier than the other woman who appears in this saga, for what it’s worth. That’s perhaps beside the point, but I wanted to throw it in anyway because what can I say? I’m feeling a little petty and in the mood to spit truths.

She’s also a woman with a right to privacy. And a woman with a career to maintain and grow. And an award nominee who’s campaigning for a win, knowing even if she doesn’t win, the nomination will open doors for her as long as she is taken seriously. And maybe, just maybe, a woman with big life changes coming up fast. I fully support her in doing what she needs to take care of herself and those she loves. And knowing what I know, having seen what I’ve seen, believing what I believe about her, I still believe she would absolutely do what she needs to do in this critical moment.

So, I’m just going to be honest and say I simply don’t know what to think at this point. I still believe number 1 above makes the most sense, both logically and emotionally. But… but… sigh.

There’s also another very real possibility, which is that Lukola has indeed been just as real as we all believe – and now, sadly, it’s over. I actually believe this could be a very real possibility, though this possibility breaks my heart most of all. But I think it’s distinctly possible that they tried and it just didn’t work out for any of the millions of reasons couples don’t make it all the time. Plus, as I’ve written about before, all the reasons they have extra challenges because of their lives and jobs. So maybe the shipping was sweet to them while the relationship lasted, but is painful now that it’s over.

I wish this didn’t feel so valid as a possibility, but it does. And this, too, would make sense of just about everything, unlike the alternate versions where the adjacents (or at least one of them) have been real partners all along. But who knows? As ever, none of us (and none of the Jakolas) knows them, so none of us will ever know anything for sure. Unless they one day decide to come clean.

I’m a big fan of the show Castle. Castle and Beckett, or “Caskett,” is one of a small handful of fictional couples that I have shipped with devotion. I LOVED Caskett and could not wait until they finally got together. The delicious tension, the longing, the near misses, the banter, the micro expressions that broke your heart. They were perfect together. Unfortunately, in reality, they grew to hate each other by the end, but onscreen, they were fire. I will never not love Caskett.

Lukola is my one and only real-world ship, and I will never not love them. Unless they really blow it with too much BTS fuckery. I feel as if they are continually jerking me around and playing games, and I’ve been A-OK with that as long as I knew where it was headed. I was willing to ride the waves of the choppy seas because I knew where the ship was sailing and I loved the destination. I didn’t begrudge them hiding behind PR fakery (or fuckery) because I had faith it was in the best interest of their careers, privacy, and more recently (once I settled into my personal opinion regarding the delicate matter), their family.

That may yet be the case. And if it is, I am 100% there for it.

But if it’s not, if Antonia ends up being a real relationship, that’s going to be very, very hard for me to accept. I’ll do my best to stay the course for Luke as an actor, but the side I see of him as someone dating her is not the same good guy he sold us on the tour. Not the same sweet Colin-alike that the cast has told us he is. Not the same perfect man Nic has told us he is. Because the choice to be with her – based on what I know of her (as well as her youth) — reflects poorly on him, in my opinion. I’m not sure about his “treatment” of her because there’s so much we don’t see and a lot of assumptions are made on that front. But simply based on who she has shown herself to be through her posts and the jobs she’s taken, I can’t respect the choice. I would accept him with many people who aren’t Nicola, but not her.

And my feelings about Nicola would also be dented because she’s posted so many of the crumbs that have (intentionally) kept me hanging on. And if, by some strange twist, she is dating Jake, well… I have a higher opinion of Jake than Antonia. I have no real issue with Jake. From what little I’ve seen of him speaking, he seems like a good kid, earnest about his work, maybe even sweet. But like Antonia, he’s so young. Setting aside aside all the other reasons I don’t believe they’re dating, he’s still 13-14 years younger than her, and just starting out while she’s sailing the heights. I have to be honest and say that the age difference and the power differential do make me uncomfortable.

Her relationships are still not my business. Nor are Luke’s. But as a consumer of media, I do get to have feelings about the people I stan and where I choose to devote my energies. As I said, Lukola has been my one and only ship. I’ve loved them individually as well, but if I’ve been played for a prolonged time, if they’ve been stringing me along with a fake ship, how can that not sour me on them as individuals?

So, yes, if these particular, adjacent relationships are real, my respect for each of them will take a hit. But they can date other people. I’ll get over it. I’ll be disappointed. I’ll think they’ve missed out because they clearly have something truly unique and special, maybe more unique than either of them realizes yet. I still believe they’ve gotten together at some point, but if they’ve now moved on, I’ll sigh and move on as well. And hope that one day, they find their way back to each other where they belong. That’s what endgame means, after all.

However, I will say again that I am not yet entirely convinced that the adjacents are anything more than I’ve long thought they were, decoys and distractions. Or that these latest hits to the ship (the mom comment, Nicola’s interview, and the “hard launch”) are anything more than ramped up efforts to camouflage the truth at a crucial time.

But the one thing that is crystal clear is that they want us to back the fuck off. Whether it’s out of a time-sensitive need for greater professional separation for career reasons (awards consideration chief among them) and greater privacy for family reasons… or because it’s actually true that they are not together at this time… either way, they’ve clearly decided to shut down the shipping this past week.

And this brings me back to Castle. If you know Castle, then you know there was a long-running throughline story about who murdered Kate’s (aka Beckett’s) mother. For years, Kate was obsessed with finding who was responsible and what happened, and more than once, that fierce dedication led her to go too far on the job. She’d stay on cases when she had a clear conflict, she’d hide things from her superiors, she’d go rushing into danger in a ruthless pursuit of the truth. Needless to say, this behavior eventually led to a suspension even though she was the best detective in the precinct. But instead of accepting the suspension, Kate tossed down her badge and quit, because OBVIOUSLY, she was going to go right on investigating privately.

So, am I going to pull a Kate Beckett and charge forward, despite every warning, to investigate every lead until I get the truth? No matter what it costs to me or those I love (namely, Lukola)? Or will I sadly accept my suspension, hang my head, and take some time at home to catch up on my Netflix until the clock runs out? Hmm… Maybe, a little of both?

Here’s what I’m going to do. Keep watching. Keep collecting information, analyzing, and seeing how I think the picture most clearly takes shape. And I will keep sharing my thoughts with all of you.

But since they want us to back off, I will slow roll those observations. For my part (NPC that I am), I will politely take a step back and give them the time that I believe they need for certain very specific reasons. If they need folks like me to back off, then I will. At least for now. And I’ll see what the next couple of months bring.

At some point down the line, depending on how things shake out, I may feel comfortable going full force again with my thoughts and opinions. But right now, it’s my belief that there are things important enough that I’m willing to take a step back to support them, because my intention has only ever been to share my thoughts and bolster the spirits of my fellow shippers. Never to harm Lukola.

In the meantime, I won’t disappear entirely. I may blog a little less, and maybe shift a bit to lovely Polin. Or maybe I’ll end up blogging more with short, fun stuff in lieu of the analysis. Who knows? Got to keep busy somehow, at least unless or until I decide to step off the ship entirely.

Actually, now that I think about it, it may be time to rewatch Castle. At least I know Caskett will never let me down.

[checkeredflagggs]

Febuwhump Day 1: Vocal Cords

pairings: gen

summary: a story about y/n, Redbull’s new second driver, told in non-sequential order

a/n: I love febuwhump and have participated before for other fandoms but this is a first for me — attempting to compete it via smau only. Hopefully I can write a complete story eventually and I will be posting it on its own masterlist in the correct order to read but it’ll be written based on the febuwhump prompt list! @febuwhump

a/n2: based on the 2024 year; sorry checo but you got replaced earlier!

y/n_rb

liked by maxverstappen1, redbullracing, and 1,183,932 others

y/n_rb: Bahrain here we come! This is gonna be our season!

view all comments

user1: you’ve got this girl!

↳user2: represent! So incredibly proud to be able to support a woman in f1!

↳user1: it’s been so long…

oscarpiastri: glad to have you here!

↳logansargeant: not sure I’d go so far…

↳y/n_rb: wow logie just say you hate women then!

↳oscarpiastri: yeah that’s not very feminist of you

↳logansargeant: I’ve been cursed by the universe

↳logansargeant: LET ME BE CLEAR — I DO NOT HATE WOMEN

↳logansargeant: it’s just y/n_rb is every intrusive thought you’ve ever had with a dash of no impulse control or thought-to-mouth filter

↳y/n_rb: hey!

↳oscarpiastri: no that sounds about right — just add a dash of no media training too

↳redbullracing: oh no…

↳y/n_rb: I have a contract! You ain’t getting rid of me so easily!

↳redbullracing: we’re scheduling media training sessions right away

↳logansargeant: good luck!

maxverstappen1: it’s great to have you on the team!

↳y/n_rb: oh my god it’s Max Verstappen!!

↳maxverstappen1: …we’ve met before?

↳y/n_rb: still!

↳user3: it’s not even the start of the season and she’s already bullying both her old F2 competitors and her teammate 😆😆

user4: proud y/n fan here! Having followed her since her F3 days I can say with full confidence that I’m so glad we’re gonna have a new grid terrorist again!

↳fernandoalo_oficial: 🤨🤨🤨

↳user4: besides you of course Mr Rookie sir

fernandoalo_oficial: ¡Hola! ¡Me alegro de verte finalmente aquí! hello! glad to finally see you here!

↳y/n_rb: Mr Fernando sir I’m a big fan! Do you have a couple of minutes to answer a few questions?

↳fernandoalo_oficial: Sí?

↳y/n_rb: score!

↳maxverstappen1: oh no

↳logansargeant: no no no

↳oscarpiastri: please don’t

↳redbullracing: the training book doesn’t have a chapter on what to do now…

↳y/n_rb: smile and wave boys. Just smile and wave

f1

liked by logansargeant, maxverstappen1, liamlawson30, and 2,197,284 others

tagged: y/n_rb, redbullracing, pierregasly, alpinef1team

f1: contact between redbullracing’s y/n_rb and alpinef1team’s pierregasly turned dangerous when y/n flipped! She was quickly freed from her car and airlifted to the nearest hospital. Still conscious during the crash and waving to the fans while taken to the helicopter, no further information is known on her injuries.

view all comments

user5: oh my god that was so awful

user6: I’m still sat in shock

maxverstappen1: Based on the text messages I’ve received in the last 10 minutes, she’s fine.

↳logansargeant: how many did you get? Cause I’ve gotten 82 in the last 3

↳maxverstappen1: 187 in 10 minutes

↳oscarpiastri: 23 in the last minute

↳liamlawson30: too many for the group chat. It broke my phone

↳user7: not even on the grid and still terrorizing them 😂 liked by y/n_rb

user8: why did they have to play her radio though…

↳user9: no that was fucking awful

↳user10: I don’t think I’ll be able to forget her screams

↳y/n_rb: skk food bsny!!

↳logansargeant: and that’s the concussion typing 😆

logansargeant

liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc, pierregasly, oscarpiastri, 2,284,469 others

logansargeant: “Tell that frenchie that I lived bitch!”

view all comments

user11: oh thank god

↳user12: that was one of the most harrowing crashes I’ve seen

user13: if that’s not a Gen-z response I don’t know what is

↳user14: I’m just glad she’s ok

pierregasly: 😑😑

↳pierregasly: well I guess I’m glad she’s ok

↳logansargeant: “JUST SAY YOU DONT LIKE WOMEN FRENCHIE!”

↳pierregasly: I LIKE WOMEN

↳y/n_rb: qe kniw TROPID$$$ SHIILS CSKL TJE PILICE ON U

↳logansargeant: I’ve taken her phone again but she meant “we know TRIPOD!!! SHOULD CALL THE POLICE ON YOU”

↳pierregasly: oh so she’s good

↳logansargeant: as good as she’s ever been

oscarpiastri: glad to see she’s ok!

↳logansargeant: some pretty shredded vocal cords and a nasty concussion but yeah she’s fine

↳oscarpiastri: ouch! Sending a gift basket!

↳logansargeant: “if that thing has a stupid apple in it I’m gonna save it and stuff it down your throat you stupid Aussie!”

↳oscarpiastri:…🫣🫣

↳maxverstappen1: apples?

↳oscarpiastri: don’t ask

↳logansargeant: don’t

↳liamlawson30: do not bring up that trauma again

↳logansargeant: “🖕🏻🖕🏻🖕🏻”

Taglist

@anamiad00msday @suns3treading @daniskywalkersolo @awritingtree @justheretoreadthxxs @coral7161 @lost4lyrics @mastermindbaby @freyathehuntress @nichmeddar @mxm47max @angelluv16 @voidvannie @justaf1girl

[liahaslosthermind]

𝑬𝒍𝒚𝒔𝒊𝒂𝒏

Summary: The 4 times the Night Court’s Shadowsinger mentioned… someone, and the first time his family got the promise of an answer. 

Content: Angst, with the promise of future fluff

Warnings: Angst, I like making Azriel sad sorry, I also take the ‘mate talk’ in the Azriel/Nesta/Bryce bonus chapter and rewrite it to fit this story. I also haven’t read CC yet so apologies if Bryce is OOC Azriel x OC [not introduced in this part]

*Slight spoilers for the Azriel/Nesta/Bryce bonus chapter

Bryce turned to the fae female next to her, “You have a mate, don’t you?” Nesta simply nodded in response, a slight smile forming on her face, followed by a deep blush. “Do you?” The red head directed at Azriel.

Nesta’s stomach dropped. She knew it was a sore subject for the Shadowsinger. What with everyone else in his family being mated except for him-

“I do.” He said, a trace of apprehension in his voice. Nesta’s head snapped to face him so quickly that her vision spun for a moment, causing her to stumble.

Regaining her footing, she barked out, “Azriel? What the fuck do you mean?”

The trio stopped walking for a moment, tension settling over the once calm night air. She gave him a demanding, and slightly betrayed, look. Even though his eyes met hers, Azriel kept quiet. Bryce simply looked between the two, face wrinkling in the awkwardness of the moment.

“Ah. A sore subject, I guess?” Bryce laughed, or tried to, it only came out forced and uncomfortable. 

“Who, Az? How come I had no idea? Does anyone know?” There wasn’t anger in her voice, just hurt. 

He had to bite back his usual replies, the ones he gave to his family when they tried to ask questions or bring up the topic without him bringing it up first. Not that he ever did. 

“She’s-” he swallowed. Cauldron, when would he finally be able to talk about her without wishing the world would swallow him whole? “It’s not something I want to discuss right now, especially with present company.” He sent a pointed look at Bryce. He couldn’t hide the misery in his tone this time though as he took a deep breath and continued, “I will tell you about her, Nes. One day. I’d just rather do it on my own terms. On my own time.” Nesta opened her mouth, seconds away from arguing, when he put a hand on her shoulder, “Please.” he begged, softly. 

The glimmer of silver in his eyes caught her off guard, gave her such a knee jerk reaction of protectiveness that she gave him a crushing hug. It was strange, this feeling. Azriel, the broody, closed off, terrifying, annoyingly perceptive, kind, and unbelievably loving friend she never knew she needed had just revealed a part of himself she could tell he kept locked away for good reason. The thought that even the mention of his mate could bring him to tears made her heart break in a way she thought impossible after all she had been through. 

She took a deep breath as she pulled away, “When you’re ready,” she agreed.

He smiled back at her, while it was genuine, one of the few he reserved for his family, there was still insurmountable pain in his eyes. 

Nesta turned back to Bryce, “Can you play more of your music? Just none of that screaming one.” She asked, shaking her head at the memory of the Death Metal genre she hadn’t liked when the redhead had played it for them. 

She smiled softly as she felt Azriel squeeze her hand in a silent Thank you before he let go. 

The High Lord sat, feet propped up on his desk. “When do you head out for Rosehall?” He asked.

Azriel, standing by the window to the right of his brother, answered, “The morning after Solstice.” Rhysand grimaced when he heard the mask of indifference his Spy Master had in his voice. “I still need to pick up a gift before I go.”

Rhys took it for the invitation it was. “Would you buy her something from me? On my account this time.” He tried to put on his commanding-High-Lord voice as he said it, but he knew very well that Azriel wouldn’t listen to the last part of his request even as his brother smiled in agreement as he walked out of the room, sending an inclination of goodbye to his High Lady in the chair across from her mate. 

“Rosehall? What female is he visiting the day after Solstice?” Feyre spoke into her mate’s mind. 

Despite Rhys’ usual inability to keep anything from his mate, he couldn't bring himself to explain, couldn’t bring himself to cross the very clear lines his brother had set all those years ago. 

“It's not my story to tell. And don’t ask someone else, if any of them know, they also won’t talk.” 

Certainly not the answer she had expected, as was evident by the look on Feyre’s face.

“And if I ask Azriel?” she inquired.

“It will just bring up things he isn't ready to share. He will come to you- come to us- some day.” ‘One day’ Azriel had promised his family long ago, long before their family had been as big as it was now. “I just pray it's under better circumstances.” 

Feyre froze, feeling the weight of mixed negative emotions flowing down from her mate’s side of the bond. For once, she was even more confused after asking Rhysand for more information. 

“Well, I believe we’ve reached the threshold of faked amiability before one of us attacks the other. We should quit while we’re ahead.” Eris said as he stood up from his chair, starting to grab his papers without so much as a glance to his reluctant hosts. Even years after their alliance was set in stone with the agreement from the Night Court to back Eris’ claim to his father’s throne, even after fighting beside them in war, these faked niceties could only go on for so long before the claws came out. 

No one in the Night Court’s Inner circle could say there was anything but relief to see the Autumn Court’s High Lord walk away. But before they could let out a breath of relief, Eris stopped and turned to the Shadowsinger. 

“I have received word that your… gift has been finished. I will send someone to get it to you within the week.” 

Azriel’s head quickly snapped to Eris, “And they were able to meet all my requests?” He asked, not caring that everyone else in the room watched the interaction with fierce intrigue. 

The eldest living Vanserra boy scoffed, “I assured you they’d be able to.” Azriel let out a relieved breath at that. While he’d known Eris’ court capable of such a thing, it wasn’t much more difficult than lesser magics, but hearing it confirmed ignited hope he didn’t know he still carried.

“Thank you. She’ll love it.” The Spy Master replied earnestly, much to Eris’, as well as the rest of the Inner Circle’s, shock. 

The red haired fae simply schooled his features and nodded in response before winnowing away. 

Despite the heaviness all the secrets and questions caused, everyone remained silent as they watched Azriel slip out of the room. 

The dining room had been filled with loud chatter for the weekly family dinner. Love filled teasing and relentless jokes put everyone in a good mood. Nothing felt better to the Night Court’s Inner Circle than being all together. Unfortunately, it had to come to an end. 

“I’ll be leaving for a few days.” Azriel told Rhysand, who was sitting to his left at the head of the table. “I’ll be back for Solstice.” He quickly added. 

“I thought you were leaving the day after?” 

“I was, but the package I had been waiting on came, and I’d like to deliver it as soon as possible. I’ll drop your gift off too.” With that, Azriel got up, nodding a quick goodbye to his family, before disappearing into his shadows.

It wasn’t a request to have a few days off. He hadn’t asked if his High Lord could spare not having his Spymaster for a little. He didn’t even wait for any sort of goodbye from the rest of his family. He just left, the house sending his place setting away to be cleaned, as if he had never been there in the first place. 

Once again, everyone had questions, concerns, for their friend. But no one spoke up, as per usual. 

Until the one fae in the room with truly no information in the matter grew concerned enough with everyone’s immediate change in attitudes. 

“Where is he going?” Elain asked, looking between her friends and family. 

She saw on everyone's faces, in their eyes that refused to meet hers, that no one would tell her. Till she sent a look, full of concerned innocence, to Cassian. 

“Rosehall” He blurted out. “Or at least, I assume that's where he is going.” The last part was directed towards his older brother. 

“Where is this Rosehall?” Feyre asked, feeling he invitation Elain’s question had opened into the untouchable subject. 

The High Lady, like her second oldest sister, sent a look to Rhys, knowing he'd break for her under an embarrassingly small amount of pressure. 

“None of us know,” he gave in, “He goes at seemingly random intervals. Sometimes he’s there, often, for months. Then he will go quite a while without any visits.”

“Is it his mate? Is that who he is seeing?” Nesta inquires. 

The word seems to suck all the air out of the room. His mate. Azriel’s mate. Their brother’s mate.

Nesta’s stomach drops at the looks she receives from Cassian and Rhysand. 

They didn’t know. 

As she opens her mouth to speak, she’s cut off by a palm smacking the table.

“Enough! You all know damn well this isn’t what he would want. The only reason you all seem so comfortable talking about it is because he's gone, too preoccupied to leave a shadow behind.” Mor argues. “He has asked one thing of us in the 500 years he has been by our side, to let him- let them- be.”

With that, she winnowed out of the room, leaving a suffocating mix of guilt, confusion, and concern behind. 

Everyone could feel his presence the second he got back to the house. The light and happy Solstice air seemed to vanish in an instant. The shadows suddenly alive and wreathing. 

Rhys and Cassian had gotten up to check on their brother. While he had said he’d be gone till Solstice, they had assumed he would be there the full day to celebrate with everyone. But he had missed celebrations, for both Solstice and Feyre’s birthday, had missed dinner, and had sent no indication that he was even alive. His mental walls had been as fortified as ever, not letting Rhysand nor Feyre in the numerous times they had tried to check in. 

Their walk over to their brother’s room became a run, followed by the rest of the family, as they heard a loud crash. 

The room was dark, but they could make out the faint outline of the broken mirror and Shadowsinger standing in front of it, holding his hand as blood seemed to drip from a wound. In the dark, the sight was unsettling, but in the light, it was far worse. 

Cassian moved quickly, leaving Rhysand and the rest of the Inner Circle by the door in stunned silence. 

“Woah-” Cassian said as he lifted Azriel’s hand, causing his brother to pull back in startled shock. He hadn’t known they were coming. Hadn’t sensed their presence even then they were right in front of him.

“It’s okay, Az. But we need to clean out the wound. Make sure there aren't any shards in-” The general stopped as he looked at the Spymaster, seeing the tears streaming down his usually stone cold face. 

All he could do was help him sit down as Mor, seemingly better equipped to handle the situation, came over to kneel in front of her long time friend. 

“Az?” She took his uninjured hand in hers, her other hand going to his face to wipe away the tears. “Come on, maybe you shoul-”

“She’s gotten worse.” He admitted, his voice noticeably wobbling, “So much worse, Mor.” 

Mor quickly looked at everyone else, seeing the shock, the empathy, and worse of all, the pity. She knew more than the others, not the full story, not even close, but enough to know that their reactions were part of why he kept all of it a secret. He couldn’t handle their emotions on top of his.

By the time she looked back, she saw that Azriel had noticed it too. She could see him shrinking back into himself, trying to hide everything. 

She couldn’t let it happen again. 

“Let me in, Azriel. Don’t pretend, don’t go through 200 more years of this.” She pleaded. Luckily, this seemed to pull him back out. “Let us all in, please?”

“I can’t- I don’t want pity.” He admitted.

Rhysand spoke up this time. “Is that what you think this is? Just pity? Az, come on. We all love you, we want you to be happy. But we don’t want fake happiness. Seeing you like this makes us all upset, because we love you. Please, let us prove it. Let us in.” Rhysand begged. 

Azriel gave them all a onceover, emotion showing so clearly in his face, in his eyes, that no one seemed to be able to breathe. 

He took a deep breath before speaking up, “Tomorrow. I’ll explain- show you all, tomorrow. For now, I’d just like to celebrate Solstice, and your birthday, Feyre, with my family.” 

The air lightened up a little bit at the promise. Tomorrow, they’d all face what Azriel had been dealing with alone for 200 years. But tonight, they would all celebrate Solstice, the return of light and promise of a brighter future, as a family. 

[black-kuroba7]

I'm crying so much to this. This feels like this is the legit answers to all of my questions.

I have a friend who is a Zayne girlie but HATES Rafayel. I don't know why, she doesn't know why either. We often have arguments about this but we're close friends and knew that no matter what we'll still be close friends.

I was also the one who showed her about the 'Love and Deepspace' app and got her hook on it, the debates we have, what we like about a certain LI, and all things friends do.

But during one debate of ours, she asked me why I like Rafayel so much even though he's so childish.

My mind went blank during that one. I couldn't think of a single reason why. So, I spent the rest of the day contemplating why. But this post, this post answers everything.

I like 3 LI in LADS those are Caleb, Rafayel, and Xavier. I only saw Zayne and Sylus as close friends and never more, maybe friends who had a thing going on but decided to just be friends cause its feels better that way.

I already have an idea why I like Caleb, I'm the older sibling, so the responsibility to take care of my siblings falls to me. The idea of having someone to take care of me for a change is something out of a dream of mine.

I lived in a chaotic household, my parents like to be loud and tends to yell a lot even though they were just talking, siblings fought a lot of time. It doesn't if it's one or two of them against me, or against each other.

It's the reason why I like Xavier, he's the quiet respite that I need in life. Just cuddling with him anywhere just calms me down. I don't have to think of anything, and just feel his quiet presence keeps me serene and happy.

For Rafayel though, I don't know why.

He's childish and often times I have to be the one to take care of him.

He's dramatic and quickly gets bored of stuff if it isn't about Arts and the Ocean. He wouldn't be the peace that I needed to relax.

Now I know the reason why, he's childish, yes. But i get to be childish with him.

He's dramatic, yes, he is. He's my little DramaQueen. But he always makes me smile with every little dramatics he has.

I get to be a child with. I get to play and banter with him without being judge.

I also get to be the one in charge as I always have been in life, and no one will have judged me for it after meeting Rafayel.

But I know he can take care of me whenever it became too much.

Thank you for sharing your opinion. Now I can love Rafayel without holding back, and love him wholeheartedly.

Alright so can we talk about the Rafayel to Caleb girlie - pipeline because I’m seeing something interesting

I feel like a lot of Rafayel girlies are so into Caleb right now. Like I saw a lot of us posting about Gege and discussing about his storyline more than other girlies does.

What is with us here? 😂

I saw the post talking about Caleb is for the only-child/ or oldest child who grow up ALONE and I was like, hold on a minute. I think I cracked the code

1. We do have a type. A complex, have a tragic back story but also very passionate man. The type to not be very easy to love. But will be the most loyal& devoted to you through thick and thin

2. From howl in howl's moving castle to Prince Zuko to Gojo Satoru to Oikawa to Rafayel to Caleb- something like that

3. Plus if you are an ARMY, who's your bias in BTS and why it is Min Yoongi??

4. You are not scared of a complicated (fictional) man, you’re not scared to put in the effort for them, to understand and get to know who they are (bc maybe nobody has ever put an effort to really understand you before)

5. And you’re the type to not scared of their ‘flaws’ or ‘imperfections’ (bc you also have some parts of you that is not perfect and you know they would accept them as what it is)

6. you're attracted to someone who doesn’t care if you make mistakes or not be a perfect human being all the time (because you have to be like that all your life)

7. We need a man who is a little bit intense. For some people they’re too overbearing, but for you it's just right. Someone who’s not scared to be ‘too much’ for you in terms of expressing their love (bc that’s what you fear you are so you learn to keep most of your emotions to yourself- leaning more on avoidant side)

8. The kinda guy who would hide their emotional side behind those playful gazes (bc sometimes you did that too)

9. THE BANTER, they have to be a bit of playfulness from them and be able to joke about serious stuffs with you

10. You need someone to heal your inner child. A part from you that never got taken care of

Now with the only child who grew up ALONE topic

As an only child, I grow up in a household where every woman in my life are living the life of “Strong, independent, girlboss” woman to the point of burning themselves on the ground. I see the cycle repeating for several generations until my own.

I grow up mostly alone, having to take care of myself in every aspects. And I mostly did it well.

But In reality, I just can’t effort to be reckless. Because if I don’t take care of myself and keep myself in check, nobody else will.

(Nobody will save me but me)

For some people the “Yandere” side of Caleb are a red-flag but for me?

to have a man care about you and taking care of you all the time? Notices about every details in your life and makes sure you never have to lift a finger? the man who's so down bad and would burn the world down for just you alone?

That’s my wet dream, A fantasy.

unlike MC, maybe because I have to live as an independent woman my whole life. I have nothing to proved.

I just want to be loved.

I just want to be a woman

I just want to just 'be'

His doting & overprotective personality healed the little girl inside me.

Same with Rafayel, being with him always heals my inner child that I never fully experience as a kid.

Both of them are so 🥺🤌🏻🤌🏻🤌🏻

[14dayswithyou]

Ren's favorite color is dark teal! My brain is so full with brainworms about this game. <3 I hope you have a wonderful day! I know you have answered this question for Violet and Ren already, but I would love to know what the rest of the cast would play (Race, Job) in FFXIV and what they would like to do the most there. 🙏 Thank you so much! <3

@waitlexist asked: Do you have any headcannons for Violet in MMOs? I ADORE MMOs(seriously, she’s a florist and a gamer? I want her so bad), and I’d love to hear a few headcannons about her! Also maybe some about Ren, Angel, and Violet all in a guild together? I like to imagine my Angel is as much of a gamer as me, and I can see Ren acting as an anon guildie to hangout with her. Although I’m not sure if he’d be a rouge-ish type class(or maybe Death Knight’s like in WoW), or a healer to keep Angel alive? I’m leaning toward the former, but I could also see the latter. Thank you, I’m sorry for the text wall KSKSJDJSJSBA ahem. Seriously, thank you for making this game. I dream of the day I can be in a poly relationship with Ren and Violet(v-type, if anyone knows what that means) ok I’ll stop yapping now! Thank you again, lol!

⌞♥⌝ Y'all will need to pay me $14,000 to shut up about FFXIV T_T In this essay, I will—

I like to imagine that Violet plays FFXIV every so often and somehow always has her jobs levelled up to the max. She plays as a Miqo'te who /gposes all the time in Il Mheg, and if she's not doing that, then she's hardcore raiding with some of her online friends.

I've mentioned this before, but Ren would be a Viera and play any support class like Scholar or Sage (because he thinks they look like cunty librarians /silly) — except he'll only heal Angel and refuse to buff/shield anyone else. If others notice this, he'll drop a single healing AoE in the most inconvenient place and leave them to fend for themselves.

[REDACTED] is a max-height Au Ra and claims that he exclusively plays as a Warrior because of the insane self-sustain — but it's actually because he forgets that there are other people in the party aside from Angel and refuses to be healed by anyone other than them. Always likes to Shirk Violet whenever there's a tankbuster <3 It drives her insane <3

My personal headcanon is that Violet was the one who got Jae into FFXIV (because they were classmates back in high school, and they both have a common interest in video games)!! He likes to collect all the minions and mounts, and often pretends to be new to the game to get free gil from veteran players. Jae also started out as a Miqo'te, but used his free fantasia to become a Hrothgar instead since he never seems to come across any.

Moth is an Elezen Dancer one-trick who always gives Angel the Dance Partner buff, no matter what job they're playing. It takes twenty minutes of Ren /playdead-ing in a corner and Violet explaining certain game mechanics for them to reconsider giving the buff to someone else. In turn, Moth always makes it a point to chew out Ren whenever he gives Angel the Kardia buff.

I also think it'd be funny if no one knows that Olivia plays FFXIV from time to time — and if she somehow ends up being the one who brings the gang together via an FC. Maybe someone she had a crush on in the past played the game, and wanting to impress them, she started playing the free trial. Now she's a level 100 Lalafell Pictomancer who always seems to fall for the hot characters AFK-ing in Limsa (a.k.a Violet lmaoooo).

If these guys were all in a Free Company (essentially a guild) together.... Hell on earth lmao T_T

There's always one person who keeps eating the food Moth uses as interior decor and it's tearing them apart. Violet now AFKs inside the FC house to find out who it is.

Olivia keeps inviting random people to the house and leaving them there without any explanation. There are literally four strangers also AFK-ing with Vi in the basement right now... Who are they... Why are they here...

As for Violet herself, she just wants to grow her plants outside in peace, but everyone keeps moving the furniture and blocking her path. Also... Whoever chose the housing exterior needs to have their subscription cancelled (it was Jae).

Ren keeps trying to convince Angel to share a room with him T_T And when he finally gets what he wants, it's at the cost of having Haurchefant's portrait stare down at him whenever he uses /doze next to them on the bed. He'll forever curse Violet for gifting that portrait to Angel.

Jae wants to build an entire submarine underneath the FC house for some reason????? He says it will help them make gil?????? And Violet is so on board???????? She's already a gilionare and a marketboard fiend??????

And if they were to all raid together... Hell everywhere djhsgsj ^^;

Violet got fed up with Ren's constant Shirking, so she picked up Dark Knight and frequently uses Living Dead to scare him.

Ren, in turn, started playing as a Sage and constantly Rescues her off of the map whenever she does this.

Jae likes the Viper job because he can make his glam pirate-themed, but he also enjoys Summoner because it comes with a Carbuncle he can pretend is Maple. Whenever Jae doesn't get healed, he'll summon Bahamut right on top of Ren to annoy him.

Since Moth has been banned from using Dance Partner on Angel, they've switched to Samurai and found that it's way more fun. They also really appreciated all the tips Violet gave them on how to play their job more efficiently.

Olivia gets mad every 5 seconds because nobody aside from Violet stands inside her Starry Muse AoE... and because Ren isn't giving her any attention shgjjsg ^^; She purposefully tries to out-damage Moth in hopes of getting his attention, but it never works.

I also have some more Violet & Ren FFXIV headcanons here!!

[minniesfiles]

WHOEVER YOU WANT ME TO BE

You wanted a way to escape your misery, and Mingyu was exactly that.

❧ PAIRING; mingyu x reader

❧ GENRE; fluff, hurt/comfort

❧ TAGS/WARNINGS; strangers to lovers kinda, hurt/comfort, mention of infidelity, smoking, fluff

❧ WORDCOUNT; 0.8k

𐚁₊⊹

▍2 FEBRUARY 2024

You pressed your back against the cold brick wall with your arms wrapped around yourself as you tried to steady your breathing. The best still pulsed from the inside of the club, and you could hear the laughters and chatters from people whose lives weren’t falling apart like yours.

You wiped your face, smearing mascara across the back of your hand. You were fine — really, you were — until you weren’t. One moment, you were dancing to the music, and the next — your whole world shattered.

You hated this. Hated that you let yourself care so much. Hated that you let him break you like this.

There he was, the boy you loved for two whole years, the boy who whispered promises into your skin, his lips now pressed against someone else’s.

You stared for too long, frozen in place, waiting for him to pull away, to look guilty, to do something. But he didn’t. He just kept kissing her.

So you left.

Now, you were out here, your breath hitching and fingers digging into your arms as you tried to hold yourself together.

The scrape of a lighter pulled her attention.

You turned slightly, just enough to see a boy — maybe a year or two older — leaning against the wall with a cigarette dangling from his lips. He was very tall — at least six feet two inches. His hoodie was unzipped which revealed a worn-out band tee underneath. He had a dark leather jacket on, and his hands were stuffed in his pockets. He leaned casually against the wall as he exhaled a slow cloud of smoke.

He noticed you staring and turned his head towards your direction. “Bad night?” he asked, exhaling another smoke into the cool air.

You let out a bitter laugh as you swiped your hand across your damp cheeks. “Something like that” you answered.

The brunette boy studied you for a moment before flicking ash onto the pavement. “Let me guess,” he said, tilting his head slightly. “Boy troubles?”

You let out another hollow laugh. “How did you know?”

“You’ve got the look” he smirked, but there was something softer behind it.

“What look?” you frowned.

“The I just had my heart ripped out and I’m trying really hard not to fall apart in front of a stranger look.”

You huffed, shaking your head. “Great. Love that I’m so obvious.”

The boy took another slow drag before exhaling. “Want me to beat him up for you?”

That caught you off guard. You turned your head to look at him properly, and searched his face for signs of teasing.

“I’m kidding. Unless you want me to” his smirk deepened.

You actually laughed at that, though it was short, surprising yourself. “Thanks, but I don’t think he’s worth it.”

“Probably not,” the boy agreed, flicking his cigarette away. “Most of them aren’t.”

A silence stretched between you, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. You found yourself breathing a little easier.

“Who are you?” you asked finally. ‘What’s your name?’ would’ve been more appropriate.

The boy pushed off the wall and turned to face you fully. His gaze held yours for a long moment before he gave a slow, crooked smile.

“Whoever you want me to be.”

“That’s not an answer” you blinked.

“Sure it is” he shoved his hands back into his pockets.

“You want a distraction? I can be that. You want someone to listen? I can do that too. Or—” he grinned, eyes glinting.

“You want to forget for a little while? I’m your guy.”

You tilted your head, considering him. “And why would you do that?” you questioned.

The boy exhaled, looking up at the sky as if thinking. “Because I know what it’s like.”

He then looked back at you, and the teasing edge in his voice softened. “To need an escape.”

You bit your lip, considering again. He was a stranger. You had no idea what his story was, but there was something in his eyes — something that made you believe him.

And maybe you did need an escape.

“Okay,” you said finally.

The boy’s smirk returned. “Okay?”

You nodded. “Be my escape.”

“Come on, then” he held out a hand.

You hesitated only for a second before slipping your hand into his. His fingers were warm against yours despite his tough exterior, and oddly you felt safer than you did with your now ex-boyfriend.

You both started walking away from the club, away from the past few hours, and away from the pain that was simmering in your chest.

For tonight, you didn’t have to be the girl whose heart had just been broken.

For tonight, you could be whoever you wanted to be.

And so could he.

“I’m Mingyu”

“I think that was the right question you were meant to ask”

“Y/n” you replied, a little embarrassed.

[musette22]

Hi Minnie! Hope you're doing well. 🩵 I was wondering if you have any Shrunkyclunks fic recs?

Hi honey! I'm doing well, thank you! Hope you are too 💓

Yes, I absolutely do have some Shrunkyclunks recs, I love me some Shrunkyclunks! It doesn't always work off course, but when it does, it can be so so so good. So here is a selection of fics I definitely loved, as well as a few I'm pretty sure I loved when I read them a while back. Hope you enjoy them too!

Like Real People Do by 2bestfriends

An Apple A Day by SquadOfCats (@norelationtoatticus)

much tattoo about nothing by Deisderium

Let Them Eat Cake by Deisderium

I just met you (and this is crazy) by littlesystems

Cafe Au Écoute by littlesystems

be kind, rewind by sparkagrace��(@sparkagrace)

The Settler by charlesdk

Easy Work For Easy Pay by AustinB 

Lucky Seven by BetteNoire (WeAreWolves) 

Holding On by ClaraxBarton

Only the Good Die Young by ZenaidaMacroura (@zenaidamacrouras1)

Waking Up Slow by odetteandodile

Lightning in a Bottle by odetteandodile

If Only In My Dreams by odetteandodile

Trust Enough by geneticallydead (@geneticallydead)

Save a Horse, Ride a Captain by galwednesday

Cat Nap by galwednesday

Not In The Answer But The Question by aimmyarrowshigh (@aimmyarrowshigh)

Just About Half-Past Ten by rohkeutta

Beyond the Yellow Book Road by crinklefries 

All of Your Love is Sunlight by canistakahari

Follow Me Home by seapigeon

Things That Go Bump in the Night by seapigeon

Something that Feels Like Hope by BeaArthurPendragon

... and I'm sure I'm forgetting a TON of amazing fics. So if anyone has any other recs they'd like to share, please feel free! 💞

[to-the-stars8]

The Waynes' Nanny

Batfamily and Reader/ Bruce Wayne x Reader Chapters Ao3

Master & Servant

You either had become too comfortable in your position or you’d gotten too used to scolding the kids; either way, Bruce suddenly found himself at the end of your lectures. As the boss, he should have nipped it in the bud, but, truthfully, he liked it. He enjoyed the way you reigned him in when he got a bit too silly or arrogant—Even Alfred had come to appreciate his behavior a bit more afterward (especially when your reprimands pertained to Alfred doing work a man his age shouldn’t have been doing).

The kids had gone to school, and Bruce, after a night of festive activities, decided it would be best to stay home. He was in the middle of signing some documents when you knocked on the door to his study before entering with a cool expression on your face. Bruce didn’t bother to look up as you crossed the room to his desk, thinking you were there to cure a bit of your boredom. When a lacy pair of red panties slid in front of his paperwork he had to look up at you. 

“What’re you doing?” He said, pushing his chair away from his desk. Were you coming onto him?

You were quick to reach across and pull him back close to you. “Not so fast there, hon’. We have to talk.”

“I’m starting to think we do if this is how you seduce me,” Bruce said as he threw the underwear back toward you. 

You sighed before saying, “These—” You waved around the little piece of fabric. “—Were from your date last night.”

Bruce only managed out an, “Oh.”

“Oh. Would you like to know where I found them?” You spat out. No, he wouldn’t, but he wasn’t about to start answering rhetorical questions. “In the kids' playroom.” 

“Shit,” Bruce seethed out. He had been to a gala earlier in the evening, and, to keep the reporters at bay, decided to bring a pretty lady home. The sex was to relieve some stress, and, usually, he would be careful about where he had his intimate relations. But, he was so pent up that he must have been a bit reckless. That wasn’t like him at all, and he would ensure that it never happened again.

“Don’t leave things like this in there again, please,” You gritted out, tone stern and curt. “It’s incredibly irresponsible. Especially around young children, Mr. Wayne!”

“I know, you don’t need to tell me.” Bruce felt a lightness in his chest, almost fluttering. 

You threw the underwear in his lap. “Apparently I do! Imagine if Duke or Damian found that?”

Bruce was mortified at the thought, but mumbled, “We could always say it was yours.”

If looks could kill Bruce would be dead. You were not in the slightest bit amused and told him as much. You mentioned that the underwear wasn’t even the tip of the iceberg of the issue at hand. 

“You can fuck wherever you want, Bruce, but don’t do it around my kids. They don’t need to get caught up in your fucked up sex life!”

He knew it would be a bad time to point out that they were actually his kids. Overall, he agreed and promised you to never do it again. That seemed to pacify you, more so when he apologized for suggesting that they could pass off the panties as yours. 

 You expressed in a more calming tone, “I know you love the kids, but they’re already having a hard time coping with the rumors about you in the media. Don’t make it any worse by bringing it off the pages into their safe spaces.”

This is what Bruce liked about your reprimands, they brought reality back to him when lost it. You seemed done giving him a rightfully deserved scolding and began to take your leave. 

He called out to you, though, beckoning you back. When you approached, Bruce rounded his desk to get a bit closer to you. “Thank you for…being blunt with me.”

“Someone needs to,” You were quick to say. “Though, I’m starting to wonder who's the boss.”

Bruce smiled and chuckled, agreeing that the line had been blurred in moments like these. Looking down at the underwear in his hands, he finally got the courage to ask, “How’d you know they were my dates?” 

You smirked and laughed a little as you began to leave. “I don’t wear cheap panties. Do you need a lesson on that, too?”

[gracie-eilish]

Hii!💓

I saw your post about the Taylor Billie crossover and that’s such a cute idea!!!! I thought maybe you could write a fic inspired by seven. (smth about homophobic parents and reader goes to live with Billie. Like the bridge)

Please don’t feel pressured to write this xx

i think you should come live with me… and we could be pirates ✨🌿🌙🤍🪐

warnings: mention of homophobic parents, i tried to keep it as light and fluffy as i could!!it’s kinda long as well! i didn’t wanna break it into two parts lol!

an: thank you for the request!! i’m so sorry it took so long to get out😭😭 this song means a lot to me and my friends as i’m sure it does to a lot of people so i wanted it to be good!! i hope you like it!🫣🤞☺️

an: two fics in one day!! woo!! i’m working my way through requests and tryinggg to finish up some other long fics (my peachy babies i see you and it’s happening i promise!!) thank you as always for ur patience. also just wanted to say thanks for the love this last month!! it’s been almost a month since i started posting and i love it here:) anywhosies!! here’s seven.

august 13th, 6:57pm, Coopersburg, PA.

the babble of the creek beneath you, the squeaking of the tire swing, and the birds chirping created a melody, sweeter than any song billie had written before. and mixed with the sound of your sweet giggles, billie was sure she was in heaven.

the sun was starting to drift under the horizon giving the sky a gorgeous coral hue, mixed with a hint of violet and navy, but not too dark yet. the air was warm, like a fluffy blanket straight out of the dryer.

“billie!! you’re going too high!! i’m too scared to jump!!” you squealed, giggling furiously. your braids billie had done for you earlier flew behind you as billie pushed the swing again, sending you higher, making you feel like you were flying amongst the trees.

billie grabbed the rope, slowing down the swing so she could be level with you again. you looked over at her before grabbing her arm and pulling her closer, before sealing the gap between you with a kiss. billie wrapped her arms around your waist, melting into your arms, only pulling away when you both smiled into the kiss. you tasted like the sweet tea you had been drinking, your mason jar now sat forgotten on a rock nearby.

“hi mama,” she whispered onto her lips, making you blush furiously and scrunch your nose. she pecked your nose before maneuvering you on the swing so she could sit too, pulling you onto her lap. one arm draped around your waist and the other holding the swings rope.

“baby can i talk to you about something?” billie started, a nervous edge to her voice. you turned your head, a curious yet concerned look in your eye, nodding for her to continue.

“how umm… how are your parents lately?” she held her breath waiting for you to answer.

your parents. how you loved them dearly.. until they stopped loving you. they said they still did, but their words and actions and beliefs said differently.

a few years back you had innocently asked your mom about how she knew she liked boys. your mom just looked at you funny, saying that every girl likes boys… there’s no question about it. that’s how god made girls. girls grow up and fall in love with boys, and become wives, and mothers, and that’s how it goes.

sensing her edge you backed off, retreating to your room that night feeling more confused than ever. if you weren’t supposed to like girls… then why did you feel this way?? why did your heart beat faster around them, and why do your hands get so sweaty near them, and why do you get nauseous thinking about being a man’s wife one day, but melt into a puddle thinking about being a woman’s wife one day….

falling in love with a woman, sleeping next to a woman, holding her, touching her, kissing her, making love to her…. walking down the aisle to her, holding her hand while bringing your babies into the world with her, raising those children with her, growing old with her…

as you got older it became harder to hide. it was obvious to anyone with eyes. especially after you met billie. i mean who wouldn’t fall in love with her?

you’re parents found out about you and billie when they caught you kissing one night out back. you had told them that you two were gonna go look at stars, and planets, and you did… just the ones in her eyes instead of the sky.

because they “still had love for you,” they sent billie home and had a long talk with you about your choices. and though you don’t try to recall them, you’ll never forget the things your parents said to you that night. you hid in your room and called billie panicking. you didn’t want to love anyone else, you couldn’t…

so you and billie continued dating in secret. only meeting up in secret locations and having perfect alibis if your parents caught on. while you still lived at home, and luckily your parents didn’t suspect a thing, you cried every night. you wanted so badly to escape, to be free from them. to be free…

“umm.. they’re good i guess. getting older sooo you know. they’re getting weird with me growing up and all that i guess. i’m looking forwards to moving out one day though.” billie nodded and gave your waist a squeeze before setting her chin on your shoulder.

you let out a watery laugh, “my mom keeps trying to set me up with all the church guys. even if i wasn’t gay they’re sooo just not cute.” billie raised her eyebrows and laughed with you.

“really? and what do you find cute missy?” billie teased. you played this game a lot. one of you would describe what you wanted in a girlfriend… and it was just you describing the other.

“wellllllll, i love a girl who’s kind and funny, and she would have these big blue eyes, like little sea crystals, and dark hair that compliments her skin so perfectly. and the cutest little button nose you could ever imagine, and it’s decorated with teensy little freckles. and she would have pink pillowy lips that are impossible not to kiss. ooh and if she could have little dimples that would be a great bonus. WAIT omg and she would sing.” you finished with a smile that said “ta da!!” billie smiled back, cheeks flushed before kissing your own cheek.

“mmm i love you to the moon billie eilish pirate baird o’connell,” you sighed, leaning back into her.

“and i love you to saturn y/f/n y/m/n o’connell,” she murmured back, nose grazing your jaw. you sat back up in shock, turning to face her with the biggest smile on your face. you were totally speechless though, trying to get out a thought.

“y/n?”

“yes?”

“i think you should come live with me… and we could be pirates,” she added playfully.

“then you won’t have to cry… or hide in the closet,” she said softly. your smile faltered a bit, not in disappointment but in shock. you knew billie’s family loved you, and you were old enough to be on your own.

“really?” you whispered. billie nodded with a small smile.

“run away with me lovey. pack your jellycats and a sweater. we’ll move you away from there forever.”

you practically pounced onto her, kissing her so fiercely.

“we can’t tell anyone. other than your family of course.”

“cross my heart, won’t tell no other.” billie promised, crossing over her heart with her finger.

your love would last so long…

years later…

august 22nd, 6:48 pm, Los Angeles, CA

you and billie were laid out among the weeds in the grass, billie sat with her hands behind her, while your back was to her front, sitting in between her legs.

“you know, i still remember hiding in that field back in PA. i can still picture you in the trees… high in the sky on that old swing.”

you hummed a small laugh, closing your eyes at the memory. your little hiding spot all those years ago. you now both lay in a similar spot, near your home in LA. after living with Billie’s family for a few years, the two of you moved out together to your own place.

“mama!!” you opened your eyes at the little voice.

“mama look!! im a pirate!!” your little baby boy, not so little anymore, had one of billie bandanas tied on his head and a stick in his hand as his sword. he showed off his best pirate poses making you and billie giggle.

“buddy you are the best pirate out there!!” billie said to him, fixing the much too big bandana on his little head.

“do you think sissy will wanna be a pirate?” he asked, tilting his head to the side.

your hand went to your baby bump where “sissy” resided.

“you know buddy, i’m not sure yet. but i’m sure she would love to,” you said, softly caressing his little face. he smiled before running back to his spot, continuing his pirate adventure.

as the two of you watched your little boy play around, billie leaned down to press kisses to your cheek, your eyes closing in total bliss, and she brought her own hand to your growing bump.

“i love you to the moon mrs. o’connell,” she whispered into your ear. the name still making you blush after all this time.

“and i love you to saturn.”

your love would last so long…

✨🌿🌙🤍🪐

[milla-frenchy]

omg Odi... (sorry for my 352 messages waiting for you on discord but I needed to express my feelings 😂😂😂) damn... this is so beautiful 😍❤️

The angst is amazing, the texts are perfect, each word is so good!!

One of my favorite fic ever. The way you described the emotions, everything is so vivid, your writing hello???? and the whole fic is brilliant 🤌👌

Thank you for the emotions and for this masterpiece ❤️❤️

You: Still into music? Joel’s brows furrowed, the unexpected question caught him off guard. The memory hit Joel like a sucker punch. The songs. That was how you used to talk to each other when words didn’t feel like enough.

And this. Wow. I LOVE when ex's use something from "before" to communicate. I love it, so, so much

His thoughts churned like storm clouds—your words, the memories they dragged back, the ache of something he thought he'd buried years ago.

Aaaaah I love it I love it I love it

Your hips swayed to the rhythm, carefree and unselfconscious, like the world outside didn’t exist. You turned suddenly, catching him staring, and your smile lit up the room.   “What?” you teased, eyes sparkling. “You gonna stand there all morning, or are you gonna help me?”   “Don’t see a reason to move,” Joel drawled, his lips tugging into a smirk. “Got a real nice view from here.”   You rolled your eyes, but your laughter bubbled up, soft and sweet, filling the quiet space between you.

The intimacy, hello??? So good

Joel hadn’t responded with words. Instead, he pressed a kiss to your forehead, his hand running idly through your hair. Actions had always been easier for him than words, and he’d hoped you understood what he couldn’t say.  

Damn, Odi... what the fuck. I have tears in my eyes for real. This is so beautiful. I love men that have a hard time expressing their feelings, men that need to use something else to do it. This is amazing

You: 3:01 - Exile by Taylor Swift.  His heart kicked up as he clicked the link and let the song play, skipping to the time stamp. The haunting melody filled the room, and when the lyrics hit, he froze.   “I think I’ve seen this film before, and I didn’t like the ending.”

Damn. Fuck fuck fuck

Joel: 2:26 - The Night We Met by Lord Huron.   He hit send before he could second-guess himself, then opened the song and skipped to the time stamp.   “I had all and then most of you, some and now none of you. Take me back to the night we met.”  

jfc. And I have no idea how the fic is gonna end. You're torturing me, ma'am 😭😘

You: That’s a bold choice.  

hehehe, reader is so you on this one 😁😁😁 I can totally see you answer this 😁😁😁

You: 2:01 - All I Want by Kodaline Joel played the song, the ache in the lyrics settled heavy in his chest. "Cause you brought out the best of me. A part of me I'd never seen. You took my soul, wiped it clean. Our love was made for movie screens. But if you loved me, why did you leave me?" The words cut sharper than he wanted to admit.

You have NO idead how much I love this. Love their communication through music. It's such a brilliant idea!!!

The honesty in his voice made your breath hitch, and Joel caught the way your expression softened, your playful demeanor faltering for just a moment.

awww 🥹🥹🥹

And then the meeting, the ending. Wow. what a masterpiece 👌🤌

I'm gonna think about them for a long, long time

Reincarnated

Joel Miller x F!Reader // 4.5k

summary: A late-night text from an unknown number stirs up memories you thought you’d buried. It’s been years since Joel walked out of your life, but now he’s back. Old wounds resurface, boundaries blur, and the question lingers: is this a second chance or just another heartbreak waiting to happen?

warnings: this is just yearing, longing, sad tortured for years joel, theme's of heartbreak, no beta, two ex's, tommy makes an appearance, no smut here (I know I know this is not my usual)

notes: I don't usually write this kind of stuff (no smut) and I am not sure how I feel about it but this is my submission for @jolapeno's Dear-uary challenge my prompt was: An old flame unexpectedly texts the other after years of silence, sparking memories of their past relationship and wondering if the feelings are still there. A big thank you to @thundermartini my baby for holding my hand as per usual, helping me with the title, being my draft, my cheerleader supporting me through a hundred moodboard changes, @itwasntimethatdidit40 my sweet sweet freckles for being such a massive support, helping me with the moodboard pictures, being a cheerleader and reading through parts of this. and @sawymredfox for always being such a lovely support and listening to me ramble always I love you all more than you know.

masterlist

The sun dipped low behind the hills, painting the Texas sky in streaks of gold and crimson. Joel sat on the creaky old porch chair, boots propped on the railing, a glass of bourbon rested loosely in his hand. He wasn’t drinking to enjoy it tonight—more out of habit than anything. The bitter burn barely registered anymore.  

Beside him, Tommy leaned back in his chair, the faint smirk on his face telling Joel he was gearing up for one of his jabs. Tommy always had a knack for digging up things Joel preferred to leave buried.  

“You ever wonder what happened to her?” Tommy asked, his voice easy, like he was just making small talk. But Joel knew better.  

Joel’s grip on the glass tightened. He kept his gaze on the horizon, jaw clenching as he swirled the amber liquid. “Who?” he grunted, though his heart already knew the answer.  

Tommy chuckled, low and knowing. “C’mon, Joel. Don’t play dumb. You know who I’m talkin’ about. That woman you used to see when Sarah was little. The one who—”  

“Drop it, Tommy.” Joel’s voice was sharp, a warning shot, but Tommy, stubborn as ever, wasn’t backing down just yet.  

“Alright, I’ll drop it,” Tommy said, leaning forward. “But I’m just sayin’, you’ve been walkin’ around like a damn ghost for years now. You ever think maybe you oughta—”  

“I said drop it,” Joel snapped, his tone cutting through the lazy evening like a whip crack.  

That shut Tommy up, at least for a moment. He leaned back again, taking a swig of his beer and letting out a long sigh. “Fine. But you know I’m right. You can act like you don’t care, but I see it, Joel. Regret’s a hell of a thing to carry around.”  

Joel didn’t answer. He couldn’t. Instead, he stared out at the horizon, watching as the last sliver of sunlight disappeared behind the trees.  

————————

Later that night, Joel lay in bed, the house quiet save for the faint creak of the floorboards settling. Tommy’s words churned in his mind, unwelcome but persistent. Regret.  

The truth was, Joel had gotten real good at shoving his regrets into a corner of his mind and ignoring them. He had to. Otherwise, they’d eat him alive. But sometimes, like tonight, they crept back in, catching him off guard when his defenses were down.  

Your face came to him in flashes, unbidden but vivid as ever—the curve of your smile, the sound of your laugh, the way your eyes had always seemed to see right through him.  

He’d thought about you more than he cared to admit over the years. Wondered where you were, what you were doing, if you were happy. Wondered if you ever thought about him.  

Joel sat up, running a hand through his hair as he glanced at the phone on his nightstand. The idea of reaching out had crossed his mind a hundred times before, but he’d always talked himself out of it. What would he even say? What right did he have to show up in your life again after all this time?  

Still, something about tonight felt different. Maybe it was Tommy’s words rattling around in his head. Or maybe it was the quiet, aching loneliness that had settled in his chest like an old friend.  

Before he could think better of it, Joel grabbed his phone. He opened a blank message, staring at it for what felt like an eternity. Then, he typed, backspaced and typed again until he finally settled on something.

Hey, it’s been a while.  

He hesitated, thumb hovering over the send button. His chest felt tight, like the weight of all the years and mistakes was pressing down on him. But before he could change his mind, he hit send.  

The message hung there on the screen, simple and unassuming, but it felt monumental. Joel stared at it, heart pounding in a way he hadn’t felt in years.  

Minutes passed. Then longer. He sighed, setting the phone back on the nightstand. “Goddamn fool,” he muttered under his breath.  

But just as he was reaching to turn off the light, his phone buzzed.  

The buzzing sound jolted him more than he cared to admit. He picked it up, the faint glow of the screen illuminating his furrowed brow.

You: Who is this?

He hadn’t expected you to respond. Or maybe he had, but he hadn’t thought this far ahead. He was suddenly aware of how much rested on the next words he typed.

Joel: It’s Joel.

The three dots appeared almost immediately, then disappeared. They came back and stopped again. Joel could almost picture you sitting there, debating whether to even respond.

Then it came.

You: What do you want?

There it was. Direct. Guarded. Exactly what he expected. Joel leaned back against the headboard. He didn’t blame you. Hell, he deserved worse. But now that he’d started this, he couldn’t stop.

Joel: I don’t know. Just thought I’d check in.

The response came quicker this time.

You: After all these years? You just “thought you’d check in”?

Joel winced, hesitating over the screen again. Nothing felt right. Nothing felt like enough.

Joel: I’ve been thinking about you.

Another pause. He could practically feel your hesitation through the phone.

You: Don’t. You don’t get to do that.

Joel stared at your message. His jaw tightened as he fought against the surge of guilt rising in his chest. You were right—he didn’t get to do this. But here he was, selfishly dragging the both of you back into a mess he’d created.  

He set the phone down, ran a hand over his face, and stared at the ceiling. Memories of you flickered in his mind—how your laugh used to light up a room, the way your touch had always grounded him when the world felt too heavy. He’d walked away, thinking it was the right thing to do. For Sarah. For her mother. For everyone but you.  

The phone buzzed again. He sighed, picking it back up.

You: Why now, Joel? What’s the point?  

He’d rehearsed this conversation in his head so many times over the years, but none of those imagined scenarios had prepared him for this.  

Joel: There is no point. I just couldn’t stop myself tonight. I know I don’t deserve to be texting you.  

You: You’re damn right you don’t. You broke my heart. You don’t just get to waltz back in like nothing happened. 

Joel: I know I did. And I’m sorry. I should’ve said it back then, but I was too much of a coward.

He stared at the screen, waiting, but no reply came. The silence felt heavier than the darkness surrounding him, and for a moment, he wondered if that was it. If you’d finally had enough and decided to let him rot in the bed he’d made.  

You: But why now, why tonight? 

Joel: Tommy brought you up. Got me thinking. 

The truth hung there, plain and unvarnished. He could’ve lied, could’ve made it sound more noble, but what good would that have done?  

You: So what, I’m some ghost you decided to chase because Tommy made you feel bad? 

Joel: No. It’s not like that. I’ve thought about you every damn day since I left. I know that probably doesn't mean shit to you, but it’s the truth. 

You: Every day, huh? Didn’t stop you from choosing her over me. 

Joel shut his eyes, the memory of that choice cutting through him like a knife. He’d thought he was doing the right thing back then but in the process, he’d shattered something else—something that had mattered more than he’d been willing to admit.  

Joel: You’re right. I made the wrong choice. I know that now.

You: I don’t know if I can do this.  

Joel stared at the words. He wasn’t sure if he could do this either, but he knew one thing for certain—he didn’t want to let you go again.  

Joel: You don’t have to decide right now. Just let me talk to you. For a little bit. Please. 

You: Fine. But don’t expect me to make this easy for you.

A faint, bittersweet smile tugged at Joel’s lips. He didn’t expect it to be easy. He didn’t think he deserved it. But for the first time in years, there was a sliver of hope in his chest.  

Joel: Fair enough.

You: Still into music?

Joel’s brows furrowed, the unexpected question caught him off guard. The memory hit Joel like a sucker punch. The songs. That was how you used to talk to each other when words didn’t feel like enough.

Every morning, like clockwork, one of you would send a song with a time stamp—each track chosen so deliberately. Some days, it was your favorite love songs, sappy and sweet, reminding the other how much you cared. Other times, it was to lift each other up, a little nudge of hope when the world felt too heavy. And then there were the ones that said all the things neither of you could say out loud.

Joel: Always.

You: I’ll send you one tomorrow.

Joel: Looking forward to it.

Joel sighed, setting the phone back on the nightstand. Your last message sat heavy on his chest, lingering. He stared up at the ceiling, the faint glow of moonlight spilling through the blinds. His thoughts churned like storm clouds—your words, the memories they dragged back, the ache of something he thought he'd buried years ago.  

Eventually, the exhaustion won out, pulling him under. Joel’s dreams carried him back to a time when life felt a little less heavy, and the weight of his choices hadn’t yet settled on his shoulders.  

He saw you clearly, like a photograph that had been buried but never faded. You were standing in his kitchen cooking breakfast, barefoot and wearing one of his old flannels that hung loose on you, the sleeves rolled up past your elbows. It was early morning, sunlight streaming through the window and catching in your hair, painting you in a golden glow.  

Joel leaned against the doorframe, coffee mug in hand, watching as you hummed along to Fishin' in the Dark by The Nitty Gritty Dirt Band on the radio—one of those old country tunes you both loved. Your hips swayed to the rhythm, carefree and unselfconscious, like the world outside didn’t exist. You turned suddenly, catching him staring, and your smile lit up the room.  

“What?” you teased, eyes sparkling. “You gonna stand there all morning, or are you gonna help me?”  

“Don’t see a reason to move,” Joel drawled, his lips tugging into a smirk. “Got a real nice view from here.”  

You rolled your eyes, but your laughter bubbled up, soft and sweet, filling the quiet space between you. He couldn’t help but cross the room then, setting his coffee down on the counter as his hands found your waist.  

“Joel Miller,” you said, feigning exasperation as he pulled you close, his fingers brushing along the curve of your hip. “I’m trying to make breakfast, and you’re—”  

“Distractin’ you?” he interrupted, leaning in so his nose brushed against you.  

“Exactly.”  

“Good,” he murmured, before pressing a kiss to the side of your neck. You let out a soft sigh, melting into him, and for a moment, everything felt perfect—like the rest of the world could wait.  

The memory shifted, flickering like an old film reel. You were both lying on the couch now, tangled up in each other as a record spun on the turntable, and he could hear your voice, quiet but clear, singing along to a song you’d claimed was “for him.”  

“Every time I hear this one, I think of you,” you’d confessed, your head resting on his chest.  

Joel hadn’t responded with words. Instead, he pressed a kiss to your forehead, his hand running idly through your hair. Actions had always been easier for him than words, and he’d hoped you understood what he couldn’t say.  

When Joel woke, the room was still dim, dawn just beginning to creep through the cracks in the blinds. He rubbed a hand over his face, groaning softly as the previous night settled back onto his chest. His phone caught his eye, and he hesitated before reaching for it.  

The screen lit up, and there it was—a new message.  

You: 3:01 - Exile by Taylor Swift. 

His heart kicked up as he clicked the link and let the song play, skipping to the time stamp. The haunting melody filled the room, and when the lyrics hit, he froze.  

“I think I’ve seen this film before, and I didn’t like the ending.”

Joel leaned back against the headboard, staring at the phone in his hand. The words hit harder than he’d expected—bitterness woven into a truth he couldn’t deny. But beneath the sting, there was something else.  

You’d sent him a song. After all this time, after everything that had passed between you, you’d listened, and you’d answered. It wasn’t an olive branch, not exactly, but it was a thread. A connection. A chance.  

Joel stared at the screen for what felt like an eternity, the song still playing in the background. The words hit like a gut punch, raw and honest in a way only music could manage. He exhaled slowly. He had to respond, and it had to be right.  

Scrolling through his playlists, he searched for something that could say what he couldn’t put into words. A chance to prove he wasn’t the man who had walked away. Something that could show you he wasn’t taking this lightly, that he regretted the past.

Then he found it.  

Joel: 2:26 - The Night We Met by Lord Huron.  

He hit send before he could second-guess himself, then opened the song and skipped to the time stamp.  

“I had all and then most of you, some and now none of you. Take me back to the night we met.”  

The lyrics bled through the room, a haunting confession of longing and regret. He closed his eyes, letting the melody wrap around him like a cold embrace. It wasn’t just a song—it was a plea.  

Minutes passed with no reply, the silence stretched long and thin. Joel’s chest tightened, doubt creeping in like an unwelcome guest. Maybe he’d read too much into your message. Maybe sending the song was too much.  

The phone buzzed in his hand, and his breath hitched.  

You: That’s a bold choice.  

A small, humorless chuckle escaped him. Bold, sure—but it was the truth.  

Joel: Figured it was fitting.  

You: It is. But that night it’s a hard one to go back to.  

Joel swallowed painfully, the weight of your words settling over him like a lead blanket. He didn’t blame you. 

Joel: I know. I can’t change the past. But I wish I could.  

You: Wishing doesn’t fix anything.  

Joel: You’re right. But maybe it’s a start.  

You: We’ll see.    

The conversation faded into silence after that, but Joel didn’t mind. For the first time in years, he felt like he’d taken a step—small, tentative, but forward.  

He wasn’t walking away this time. Not again.  

——————————

The next day started quietly for Joel. After his usual morning routine—coffee, and an aimless walk around the property—he finally glanced at his phone, half-expecting silence, but there it was

You: 2:01 - All I Want by Kodaline

Joel sat on the oak chair at his kitchen table, his phone resting in his palm as All I Want faded out. Your song hit him square in the heart—a combination of longing and accusation he couldn’t argue with. He leaned forward with his elbows on the table.

Joel played the song, the ache in the lyrics settled heavy in his chest. "Cause you brought out the best of me. A part of me I'd never seen. You took my soul, wiped it clean. Our love was made for movie screens. But if you loved me, why did you leave me?" The words cut sharper than he wanted to admit.

Why did you leave me?  

The answer felt too big, too tangled in old guilt and choices he couldn’t take back. Joel rubbed his hand over his mouth, trying to think of the right response. Music had always been your language, but today, the words felt harder to choose.  

After a while, he scrolled through his playlists again, stopping when his thumb hovered over a familiar title. It wasn’t just about the lyrics—it was the feeling, the truth of what he wanted to say but couldn’t. He thought it might somehow tip the scales in his favor and so he typed.

2:41- Let Her Go by Passenger 

He opened the song and let the timestamp play, you only know you love her when you let her go and you let her go.

Finally, he hit the button, watching as the message marked "Delivered."  

The phone sat in his hand as he leaned back against the kitchen chair, the melody echoing in his mind. This back-and-forth of songs and guarded words—it felt like a lifeline, but also like walking on a tightrope. He wanted more, needed more, but he wasn’t sure if you were ready to give it.

The phone buzzed, breaking his thoughts.

You: You always pick the gut-punchers.

Joel exhaled a small laugh.

Joel: Never been good at subtle.

You: You’ve still got good taste in music, I’ll give you that. Suprised it’s not an oldie.

Joel smiled, a faint warmth spreading through his chest. It wasn’t forgiveness, not yet, but it was a step—a reminder that some part of you still wanted to talk to him.

By the sixth day, it felt like you both slipped back into old habits, texting each other all day about everything and nothing. Joel found himself smiling more, laughing even. It wasn’t like the years hadn’t happened—those gaps still lingered, but they didn’t feel so wide anymore.

—————————————

The next few days blurred together in a steady rhythm of texts. It started slow—Joel’s messages were careful and measured. A “good morning” here, a comment about the weather there, and a song in between. But soon, the conversations stretched longer, dipping into familiar topics and inside jokes he hadn’t thought about in years.

It was comfortable and natural. Everything was falling back into place, even though you weren’t sure if you were ready to let it.

Joel: Thought about calling you earlier.

You: Why didn’t you?

Joel: I don’t know. Didn’t wanna push too hard, I guess. But I miss hearing your voice.

You: Well if you’re going to call, might as well make it a video call. Let’s see if you’ve aged as much as you sound like you have ;)

Joel blinked at the screen, his lips twitching into a surprised smile. He ran a hand through his hair, glancing at the hallway mirror. “Damn you old fool,” he muttered to himself, brushing a finger over the lines on his face.

Joel: You sure? Don’t want to scare you off.

You: I’ll take my chances.

Joel chuckled, the sound low and almost nervous as he tapped the video call button. His heart thudded in his chest as the screen shifted, the ringing filling his ears until, finally, the call connected.

Your face appeared, a little blurry at first before the image settled. Joel stared, his breath catching at the sight of you, just as beautiful as he remembered.

“Hey,” you said softly, your voice breaking the silence.

Joel swallowed hard, his grip tightening on the phone. “Hey,” he replied. He gave a small, self-deprecating smile. “Guess this is me. Older, grayer, and maybe a little wiser.”

You tilted your head, a smirk forming on your lips. “You don’t look half bad… for an old man.”

Joel chuckled, the sound more relaxed this time. He paused, his eyes scanning your face through the screen. “It’s real good to see you.”

You nodded, your expression softening. “It’s good to see you too.”

Joel leaned back in his chair, the tension in his shoulders easing as the two of you settled into the call. His smile lingered, even as he tried to play it cool. “Y’know, video calls weren’t much of a thing last time we talked.”

You laughed, resting your chin on your hand. “Yeah, it’s weird seeing you like this. Makes you feel closer, though.”

He nodded, the warmth in your voice made his chest tighten. “Closer’s good. Been too damn long.”

Your gaze softened, and for a moment, neither of you said anything, just letting the silence stretch. Joel was the first to break. “So, I passed the test, then? Don’t look too ancient on camera?”

You laughed, the sound sending a ripple of nostalgia through him. “You’re doing okay. Grays suit you.”

“Flatterin’ me now, huh?” He leaned forward slightly. “I think you’re tryin’ to distract me.”

“Distract you from what?” you asked, raising a brow, but there was a playful lilt in your voice.

“From how damn beautiful you are,” he said, the words leaving his mouth before he could stop them. He blinked, his expression shifting as if he wasn’t sure he should’ve said it.

“You always were a charmer, Miller.”

“Not sure ‘bout that,” he replied, rubbing the back of his neck. “Think I just say what I mean when it comes to you.”

The honesty in his voice made your breath hitch, and Joel caught the way your expression softened, your playful demeanor faltering for just a moment.

“You always did have a way of catching me off guard,” you said finally.

“Guess it’s mutual, then.” He leaned back in his chair. “You’ve always had a knack for makin’ me say things I don’t plan on sayin’.”

“Oh yeah? Like what?”

“Like tellin’ you how beautiful you are,” he said without missing a beat, his tone steady now, as if he’d decided to own the moment. “How much I’ve missed seein’ that pretty face, hearin’ your laugh.” He paused, his eyes holding yours through the screen. “How much I’ve missed you.”

“Joel…” you began, but he cut you off with a gentle smile.

“Don’t gotta say anything,” he said softly. “Just… wanted you to know.”

You shook your head, a smile breaking through. “You always do this, you know? Say something that makes it impossible to stay mad at you.”

“Not my intention. So, how ‘bout you? You miss me at all, or am I just an old fool?”

"I mean, you are an old fool, but…"

"But?"

"But maybe I missed you a little," you teased, holding your thumb and forefinger an inch apart for emphasis.

He shook his head as a laugh rumbled out of him. "A little, huh? Should’ve known I’d only get a half-assed compliment outta you."

"Hey," you shot back, grinning now, "that’s more than most people get. Consider yourself special, Miller."

"Special, huh? Careful now—you keep sweet-talkin’ me like that, and I might start thinkin’ you missed me a lot."

You laughed, rolling your eyes. "Don’t push your luck."

The silence that followed wasn’t uncomfortable—it was charged, full of unspoken things. Joel shifted in his chair, his thumb brushing absently along the edge of the phone. He hadn’t realized how much he’d needed this, how much he’d needed you. And now that he had you on the other end of this call, he wasn’t sure how he’d gone so long without it.

“So,” he started, his voice softer now, “what have you been up to all these years? Catch me up.”

You shared bits and pieces of your life. Joel listened intently, his eyes fixed on the screen like you might vanish if he looked away. Your laugh filled the space between his words, and every now and then, you’d tease him about his “old man” habits or the way his drawl had only gotten thicker.

It was easy. Too easy. And Joel realized he didn’t want the call to end.

“Y’know, this… this ain’t enough. Seein’ you like this. Hearin’ you talk. Feels good, don’t get me wrong, but it’s not the same.”

You hesitated, your smile faltering. “What are you saying, Joel?”

“I’m sayin’… I wanna see you. For real. None of this video callin’ nonsense.” His voice dropped lower, softer, like he was afraid you might say no. “Just you and me. Like old times.”

You blinked, your lips parting in surprise before a slow smile spread across your face. “You sure you’re ready for that? Seeing me in person might ruin the illusion.”

“Doubt that,” Joel said, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I’ll take my chances.”

The day of the meeting came quicker than Joel expected. He stood outside the small café you’d chosen, his hands stuffed into his jacket pockets to keep them from fidgeting. His heart was pounding in a way that made him feel like a damn teenager again, but he couldn’t help it. This wasn’t just any meeting. This was you.

You laughed, shaking your head. “Alright, Miller. When and where?”

————

He looked around waiting to see you, and then Joel froze. There you were, standing just a few feet away, your face illuminated by the golden afternoon light. You looked just as he remembered, and yet somehow different—like time had added something to you, something he couldn’t quite put into words. His breath caught, and for a moment, he couldn’t move.

And then your eyes met.

It hit him like a punch to the gut, the kind of emotion he thought he’d buried long ago. There was no escaping it, no pretending it wasn’t there. The way you smiled at him, tentative and warm, like you were testing the waters but already knew the outcome—it was enough to undo him completely.

“Joel,” you said softly. It was the same voice he’d been hearing in his head for years, the one he’d convinced himself he could live without. But now that it was real, there was no going back.

“Hey,” he managed, his voice rough and uneven. He took a step closer until he was standing right in front of you.

For a moment, neither of you said anything. You just looked at each other, the weight of the years between you pressing down and then lifting all at once. Joel’s eyes traced every line of your face, every detail he’d missed, and he felt something settle deep in his chest. Something he hadn’t felt in a long, long time.

It was undeniable, inevitable. Whatever this was, whatever it could be—there was no stopping it now. Joel knew it, and by the way you looked at him, he knew you did too.

“Guess we’ve got a lot to talk about,” he said finally, his lips quirking into a small, lopsided smile.

“Yeah,” you replied, your own smile soft but full of promise. “We do.”

And as Joel held the door open for you, letting you step inside first, he felt it—the certainty that this wasn’t the end of something but the beginning.

Whatever came next, he knew one thing for sure - you were in it, and there was no turning back.

[reidsmanuscript]

Seven Seconds

Summary: when Katie Jacob's gets abducted in a Mall, setting the clock for the BAU, who needs a legal favor, and it's been a year since the A.D.A. has know anything about Spencer Reid. Pairing: Spencer Reid x lawyer!reader Genre: pinning, SLOW BURN, maybe right moment?, angst bc i love angst wc: 4.6k! (i know so small comparing to part 1 bear with me) TW: cm canon typical violence, set in 05x3 "Seven seconds" (obviously lol), sexual violence, implied reader's dark past. A/N: my idea for the serie is be taylor jenkins reid and have you question if lawyer reader exists or not (delusional bitch), english is not my first language and let's pretend it's proofread

part I - part II - part III - ...

　　　　 　　　 .˳˳.⋅ॱ˙ ˙ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙ ˙ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅.　　　

Spencer sat on the park bench reading a book while playing chess with Ethan, brilliant kid for his age and good opponent, not good enough tho because when he cheered “I see checkmate in 5, What do you see?” It took Spencer one glance to calculate all the movements necessary.

“I see it in 3” he answered looking at his book again, the kid turned around the board and moved the pieces

“We've missed you out here” he said, staring at the board amazed.

“Thanks. I, uh, I had to take a little break”

“How come?” His hands froze on the book for a second before closing it.

Spencer had been clean for over a year now, it was 14 months and 2 weeks ago that he had freaked out after noticing his stash of Dialud was gone along with his needle. Where could he find more? Who knew about his addiction? Where was his stash? Who the fuck is Dr. Fitzgerald? Did you report him?

His first instinct was confronting you, given that you were the only person who found out his drugs that he knew, the first days he was a complete paranoid, he jumped every time Hotch called his name, or that Gideon looked at him a little too long.

At the end of the week he was thinking where he could find more, and when that thought scared him, he called the number of the card you had left in the same pocket his drugs used to be.

“Hello this is Dr. Fitzgerald” said a calm voice, it was 10 p.m. so there was a higher chance of going to voicemail, but he got an answer and the tremor of his hands got a little worse. Was it the anxiety or the withdrawal?

“Umm hello.. this is.. Dr.. this is Spencer Reid and someon-""I've been waiting for your call Dr Reid” the other line interrupted, he froze for a second.

“I used to play with a co-worker friend of mine. He's probably the best mind I ever went up against. One day, he just decided that he didn't want to play anymore.”

Fast forward, she helped him get clean and stay clean after Gideon left, getting tested regularly, and gave him the contact of the help group of FBI addicts. He was better, he was alive.

“So you gave up, too?”

“Just the opposite. I attempted to play Through every permutation of moves on a chessboard.”

“That's an infinite number of games.”

“It's not infinite. It's just- it's exponentially large.”

“You couldn't have played through them all.”

“There's an average of 40 moves per chess game, And I'll tell you something– the more I played, The more I realized that every single match every single chess game, Is really just a simple variation on the exact same theme. You know? It's aggressive opening, Patient mid-game, inevitable checkmate, And I realized why my friend quit. He was tired of repeating the same patterns And expecting a different outcome.”

“That's because you haven't come up on Fridays or Mondays in a while” the way his eyebrows went up along his voice tone made him feel like he knew something that he didn't.

His eyebrows furrowed “What do you mean?”

“There's this great player who comes around those days, she even brings the best pastries, and her games is similar to yours, always two or three moves ahead, she always beats everyone here… i think her boyfriend called her Buzz or something like that, like the Toy Story character”

“Buzz?… i don't really remember anyone with that nickname”

“It’s probably not that one but you don't know her because she started coming like 8 months ago.. I'm sure you have a lifetime of chess strategy in your head that you're just sitting on, but when you meet her?” He made a dramatic pause “You'll have to play it.”

He glances at his watch to realize his 15 minute break is coming to an end. “I still use it. I just, uh... I apply it differently. I have to go. It's good seeing you.”

　　　　 　　　 .˳˳.⋅ॱ˙ ˙ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙ ˙ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅.　　　　　　

That evening, the BAU was called in for a local case—a little girl, Katie, had been kidnapped from a busy mall. A week earlier, another girl had been taken from the same location and found dead hours later. Now, they were all racing against the clock.

Katie’s parents were desperate. As any parents would be in this situation, right? But when Hotch asked the father if either of them was having an affair—a routine question in abductions—the man took offense. Deep offense. So much so that he refused to let the FBI search their house.

Now, what kind of parent refuses to help the police find their missing child?

In a small surveillance room, Morgan and Reid sat with Garcia, who was visibly frustrated by the mall’s ancient security system. They were surrounded by screens displaying grainy footage from different angles—well, almost every angle. They had a single glimpse of Katie in one video, and then, seven seconds later, she was gone.

JJ and Prentiss were with the mother, aunt, and uncle, trying to get a read on the family dynamic. Meanwhile, Morgan and Reid had conducted a cognitive interview with Katie’s cousin. It had led nowhere.

“The family has refused permission to search the house,” Hotch announced as he stepped into the room.

“What do you mean they denied?” Morgan’s frustration was evident. “Your only child goes missing, and you refuse to collaborate?”

No one disagreed. They were all thinking the same thing.

“The cousin didn’t say much,” Reid added. “He was too distracted in the game room to notice anything.”

Hotch exhaled sharply. “I’ll speak to the detectives, see if we can get a warrant.” His tone was firm, but they all knew time wasn’t on their side.

Garcia adjusted her glasses. “Sir, I mean this in the best way possible, but it’s almost 8 p.m. I don’t think-”

“I’ll handle it,” Morgan interrupted.

All Reid and Garcia turned to him with identical looks. What do you mean you will handle it?

Hotch’s eyebrows furrowed, but after a moment, he gave a small nod and walked away. Morgan was already pulling out his phone.

“I have a contact,” he explained, dialing.

He put the phone on speaker. It rang once. Twice. On the third ring, a voice answered—sharp, direct, and all business.

“A.D.A. Woodvale.”

Reid went rigid.

　　　　 　　　 .˳˳.⋅ॱ˙ ˙ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙ ˙ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅.　　　　　　

It was late in the office; most people had already gone home, including your assistant Molly. All but Austin, who was still there because he had a lead on one of your cases. You knew he was still hanging around because, over a year ago, when someone had snuck into your office to harm you, you’d become a little paranoid. You’d gotten better, but Austin insisted on keeping you company, especially since your car was in the mechanic’s.

You were reviewing a legal brief, pen in hand, skimming the margins to jot down notes when the desk phone rang. Without looking up, you hit the speaker button with the tip of the pen.

“A.D.A. Woodvale.”

There was a beat of silence before a familiar voice cut in—smooth, direct, urgent.

“Alex, hey. We need a warrant. Fast.” You blinked, setting her pen down. Morgan.

Reid and Garcia exchanged glances as Morgan jumped in without hesitation.

“Katie Jacobs. Eight years old. Abducted from a mall earlier tonight,” Morgan started, all business. “Another girl was taken from the same place a week ago—she was found dead hours later. We’re working against the clock.”

You frowned, swirling the pen, going through the multiple scenarios. You had heard about last week’s case, and how slow the police had moved back then.

“We’ve got mall surveillance footage,” Morgan pressed. “At first, we thought she just vanished, but Garcia finally pulled something from one of the side corridors. Katie wasn’t taken by force—she was walking calmly with someone.”

Your fingers tightened slightly around her pen. “Someone she knows.”

“Exactly,” Morgan confirmed. “That narrows it down to family or close acquaintances.” They all shared a silent thought. Family.

We know they’re hiding something,” Morgan corrected. “We just don’t have the probable cause to kick the door down.”

Garcia watched as Morgan paced slightly, his tone firm but urgent.

“That’s thin, Morgan,” Alex’s voice came through the speaker, steady and unyielding.

“We don’t have time for airtight,” Morgan countered.

Your jaw tightened. “You don’t have time for me to get laughed out of a judge’s office, either. Refusing a search isn’t a crime, and suspicion alone doesn’t cut it. I need more.” You understood where the suspicious came from, how are you supposed to help them if they had nothing?

There was a pause. A beat of silence. Then, another voice—one you hadn’t heard in over a year.

“99% of abducted children who are killed due within the first 24 hours” He cleared his throat, willing his voice to stay even. Spencer Reid. “75% within the first 3 hours, and what only law enforcement knows is Jessica Davis joined the 44% of children who are abducted and killed within the first hour. We’re already past the three-hour mark. If we don’t act now, statistically speaking—”

“The likelihood of recovery drops exponentially,” You sighed, already standing up, ignoring how his voice sounded. So different. So… clean.

Your gaze flicked to the clock. 8:06 p.m. Damn it.

You grabbed a blank warrant form from her drawer and reached for a pen. “Send me the address and everything else you have. Give me 20 minutes.”

Click. You didn’t have time for goodbyes.

Austin raised an eyebrow from his seat. “Guess you’re not going home anytime soon.”

You didn’t look up as you started writing. “I never was.”

　　　　 　　　 .˳˳.⋅ॱ˙ ˙ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙ ˙ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅.　

The courthouse was mostly deserted at this hour. The fluorescent lights hummed quietly, and the stillness of the evening was only interrupted by the sharp click of your heels on the polished floors followed by Austin’s boots toward the judge’s chambers.

“You sure you don’t want me to take this one? Sweet-talk her maybe?” he teased.

You shot him a look. “You think Judge Holloway is the type to be charmed? Plus, you’re a private investigator, not a lawyer.”  

“She’s not gonna like you showing up this late.”  

You didn’t miss a beat. “If she’s still up, she’ll make time for this.”  

Taking a steadying breath as you stopped in front of the door, you quickly ran through your notes, making sure you had every detail in order. Then, without hesitation, you pushed through the heavy wooden doors of Judge Evelyn Holloway’s chambers.  

Inside, the judge barely glanced up from her paperwork. “You have two minutes, Woodvale.”

Stepping forward, you set the warrant request on the desk. “Your Honor, I apologize for the late hour, but we have a child abduction case we’re working against the clock. A young girl, Katie Jacobs, was taken from a mall over three hours ago. We’ve obtained surveillance footage showing her walking with an individual—someone she likely knows. We believe the family is withholding information, and they’ve refused to allow us to search the residence.”

The judge narrowed his eyes, folding her hands on the desk. “And what do you propose I do about it? What evidence do you have to warrant a search?”

Alex kept her voice steady. “We have footage of the girl with someone who wasn’t a stranger, Your Honor. The parents are refusing cooperation, and the father was evasive when asked about possible affairs, which raises red flags about his involvement.”

Holloway sighed, leaning back in her chair. “That’s thin.” You were ready for that.

“I have the full footage from the mall security, including a timestamp showing the precise time the girl went missing. She is last seen walking calmly with someone she knows, most likely family.”

There was a brief pause, and for a second, you thought you were about to lose her. So you pulled Reid’s words from memory, adjusting them just enough to make them your own.

“Time is working against us. Statistics show that 99% of abducted children who are murdered lose their lives within the first 24 hours 75% within just the first three. And only law enforcement-”

She cut you off with a raised hand, signaling you to stop.

The judge exhaled through her nose, it was late and you were rambling about statistics and you knew she wanted you out as soon as possible when you started citing numbers. So pushing himself out of her chair with a slight groan. “Fine. Get me the paperwork. I’ll sign it—but you better have your ducks in a row.”

You nodded, her demeanor unflinching. “Thank you, Your Honor.”

As you turned to leave, you couldn’t help but feel the weight of the hours ahead of you. But you were used to this—fighting against the clock.

“Let’s move,” motioning to Austin. He gave you a small nod. “You got it.”

　　　　 　　　 .˳˳.⋅ॱ˙ ˙ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙ ˙ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅.

Exactly 15 minutes after the call, 5 minutes earlier than promised, Morgan’s phone rang. He answered it without even looking. 

"You got your warrant. I'll meet you there," Alex’s voice came through, crisp and businesslike, just as expected.

Morgan exhaled, his relief barely hidden. "Thank you, Woody."

He paused for a moment before adding, "I owe you one," then hung up, turning to Reid.

“Tell Hotch we’re heading to the Jacobs’ house,” he instructed, already moving toward the door.

Spencer had been timing her. It wasn’t the first time he'd gotten caught up in the tense waiting game of law and order, but the pressure of it had a different weight today. The memory of your voice, clear and resolute, echoed in his mind, sharper than before.

For Reid, part of getting clean wasn't just the physical withdrawal—it was the emotional weight of confronting his mistakes. The memory of how he'd lashed out at you a year ago still haunted him. How could he have been so cruel? The hurt in your eyes, the way he dismissed you, the way it all spiraled… it wasn’t just the drugs that had made him say those things. And the fury he saw when you looked at him, Dialuid in hand, how you looked like a timing bomb when he was trying to see if he could talk to you, the tension in your shoulders, the lock in your jaw, the grip on the file. He’d been battling so much more since then, in his mind, you saved his life by doing what he couldn't do.

He’d rather die than relive that moment again, than say those things. And yet, here he was, standing in the middle of another chaotic case, still carrying that guilt with him. He stayed behind Morgan for just a beat before pushing down his feelings and moving quickly. 

　　　　 　　　 .˳˳.⋅ॱ˙ ˙ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙ ˙ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅.　　　　

The engine of Austin's bike rumbled to a stop as they pulled up in front of the house, where Morgan and Reid were standing in front of the black SUV. You slid off the back with practiced ease, taking off the helmet and letting your hair fall loose.

Austin followed your lead, taking his helmet off with a groan. “So, what exactly are we looking for?”

You shot him a quick, sidelong glance, handing him the helmet, keeping your expression flat knowing he’s about to be a drama queen. “You’re not coming inside. The warrant’s for FBI and police only. Not P.I.s included”

Austin paused, a mock pout crossing his face. “Excuse me? I just got you here, through all that traffic, risking myself to get a speeding ticket and now I don’t get to search? Do you hate me?”

“If I hated you I wouldn’t have bailed your ass out of jail… twice” you remark the last part. He had a talent for sticking his foot where he shouldn’t be, maybe that’s what makes him good at his job.

“You act like you wouldn’t do it a third time” he was mocking, but he was right, something you would never admit to him. 

You start walking to the house “Mhm.” you hum rolling your eyes, heading towards where Morgan and Reid were. 

You didn't expect him to be there, or maybe you did, maybe you wanted to see him and know what had happened to him since the last time you saw him. They were looking at you, Morgan with a curious already-profiling-you stare, while Reid expression was more… cautious. He looked so different, her cheekbones were prominent in an attractive way and not sickly, he had put on some healthy weight and was not fidgety. You were not mad anymore, because of course at the moment the hurt had turned into rage like it always does for you, but it was more because of phantoms than anything else. 

“Got your golden ticket” you said, avoiding Reid’s gaze as you pulled the warrant from the inner pocket of your gray coat and swung it toward them.

Morgan nodded “You staying?” He gestured with his head to Austin who was leaving.

“I have to make sure you find something, otherwise the judge will have my head for this,” you said dryly, shrugging as though the threat didn’t bother you, but there was a flicker of seriousness behind your words. You were only talking to him, which felt rude because Reid’s stare was locked in your profile. 

Reid was thinking how pretty you looked, how the black vest suited you, and he couldn’t ignore the fact you had changed your brown bag to a black one that looked nothing like his. Your white shirt and gray coat gave you an older, wiser look, but as Reid analyzed your features, he realized he didn’t even know how old you were. You couldn’t be older than him. Serious, sharp, and young... How was it possible for someone that young to be the A.D.A.?

Reid’s mind couldn’t let go of the numbers. The average age of an Assistant District Attorney in the U.S. is 36. You couldn’t be older than 25, and yet you were already in that position.

You glanced at him for a moment before stepping inside the house, feeling the weight of his stare. The look made him snap out of his trance-like state, and of course, his eidetic memory hated him, because for that brief second, he remembered how you had looked at him a year ago.

Morgan nodded and thanked you again before he and Reid walked into the house. You left the warrant on the hall table with a deliberate touch, your fingers lingering for just a moment—as if to remind yourself that you weren’t entirely done with this.

“Somebody lit a fire last night,” you heard Reid say.

“Well, there are dirty dishes for three in the kitchen, so they eat together as a family.” Morgan’s voice carried from the other room as they moved through the house, taking in the details.

If Katie was in danger, the signs wouldn’t be in plain sight. You had to look where they hid—where children kept their secrets. Their bedrooms.

“Hey, my favorite movie from when I was a kid.” Reid held up a DVD, turning it in his hands before pulling it from the player just as you passed by him, tugging on latex gloves before heading upstairs, you did feel a little guilty for not even looking or talking to him, but it was something you did unconsciously. 

“So they watch movies together, too,” Morgan mused. They were starting to build a picture of the family’s dynamic.

“By a fireplace in a house that’s straight out of a catalog,” Reid added. “Norman Rockwell couldn’t have painted this any cozier.”

“That’s what worries me.” There was weight in Morgan’s voice. A tension that sat between them.

Upstairs, you searched through the rooms with careful precision.

When you first became a lawyer, you made a promise—never ignore a sign. Since then, you have gone further. You didn’t just refuse to ignore them; you searched for them. Hollow eyes. Unexplained bruises. Small bloodstains. You looked for them in teenagers, in young adults, in the elderly. But nothing—nothing—was more painful than a child who couldn’t speak up.

Because they were small. Because someone older, someone stronger, was hurting them. There's nothing more hurtful than not being able to speak out, to say something and stand up for yourself. Except when someone did—someone saw the bruises, the fear, the signs—and they looked away deliberately. Because a child’s pain was inconvenient. Because it came with a mountain of paperwork no one wanted to touch.

You had spent your whole life making sure you never looked away.

That’s why you were hunched over the small desk in Katie’s bedroom, flipping through her drawings when Morgan and Reid entered the room. They started searching, their movements efficient and methodical.

“Katie’s been wetting her bed,” Reid said as he lifted the duvet, inspecting the mattress beneath it.

“A lot of six-year-olds do. Could be bad dreams,” Morgan replied, crouching beside you as he sifted through a pile of toys.

You considered that possibility—it was perfectly logical. In a perfect world.

“Some kids won’t get up at night because they’re afraid of the dark,” Reid added, his tone careful. Almost knowing.

“Or it could be a lot more complex than that.”

Morgan had found a doll. Not a Barbie missing a shoe or one that had simply been played with too much. No—this doll was different.

Its hair had been hacked off, jagged strands sticking out unevenly. Red marker smeared across its face like smeared blood. Its clothes were yanked askew, twisted, and wrong.

“Most girls covet their dolls like an extension of themselves.” He took the doll in his hands like it was made of fine glass. 

“Reid, I know these signs-— acting out on her toys, wetting the bed. She's obviously covering up something about that necklace.”

“And her cousin might be holding something back.”

“Well, this looks more like a man than a boy to me,” you said, holding up a drawing of a tall, shadowy figure towering over a small, crying child.

Morgan took it from your hands, his expression hardening as he analyzed the image.

“Psychology says drawing is a child’s way of channeling their inner world. Look at the strokes—how harsh they are,” you pointed to the dark, jagged lines forming the tall figure, then traced your finger over the smaller one. “And this looks like Katie to me. She forgot to draw the hands, which means she feels powerless… helpless.” 

Morgan took his phone out, dialing up “Hotch, we think Katie’s being molested,” Morgan said, his voice clipped. “And we both know the odds.”

A brief silence. Then Hotch’s response, firm and certain. “Most likely by someone under the same roof.”

He hung up, and both men started toward the door, their movements brisk with purpose. But you stayed behind for a moment, rooted in place, taking in the scene. A quiet pause—maybe out of respect for Katie and her pain and for everything she had been forced to endure.

From the doorway, Spencer glanced back. The dim light from the hallway cast your figure in stark contrast, outlining you in shadow—your form dark against the soft glow of the room. He couldn’t see your expression, couldn’t read your face. He focused on the way your hands curled into fists at your sides, the tight set of your shoulders.

And he wished—just for a second—that he could see more.

　　　　 　　　 .˳˳.⋅ॱ˙ ˙ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙ ˙ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅.　　　

You stood outside, leaning against the wall, arms crossed tightly over your chest. By your side were Morgan, Jeremy, Katie’s cousin, and Reid.

Turns out, Katie’s uncle, Richard, was her abuser. A disgusting son of a bitch who deserved to rot in hell. And you were going to make sure he did. He had destroyed Katie’s childhood, probably more than just hers, shattering an entire family in the process. His own son, standing right next to you, was collateral damage he clearly hadn’t spared a thought for. And then there was his wife. The woman who had chosen to look away. Who had taken Katie and nearly gotten her killed, all for the pathetic, desperate hope that it would somehow stop her husband from creeping into little bedrooms at night. She deserved the same hell he did.

A stretcher rolled past, Katie’s small frame barely visible beneath the blankets as the paramedics guided her into the ambulance. Her mother clutched her tiny hand, whispering something—words meant to soothe, to promise safety.

A young voice cut through the air. “I heard her call my mom’s name. That’s what I remembered before.”

You closed your eyes, your mind already racing ahead. Your attorney brain was piecing it together, sketching out the battle that was coming. If the kid had heard it, that made him a witness to the abduction. His own mother had committed the crime against her niece. And God only knew what else he had seen—what else had been happening in that house—without fully understanding it.

“We get it, kid. That’s your mom,” Morgan said, his voice steady. But you knew the truth: if Jeremy could barely say those words to them, getting him to the stand in front of a jury would be another fight entirely.

The boy shifted on his feet, staring at the ambulance. “What’s gonna happen to me now?”

If God existed, He had already been too cruel. He had let all of this happen. And you knew how these things worked—knew there was a very real chance that Katie’s parents, burdened with their own grief, would resent Jeremy by association. That they wouldn’t take him in. That he would be swallowed by the foster system.

You wouldn’t let that happen.

“I don’t know, Jeremy,” Reid answered, his voice gentle. “But we’re gonna make sure you’re alright, okay?”

Jeremy didn’t look at him. His eyes stayed fixed on the ambulance. “Is Katie gonna be all right?”

You wished—desperately, violently—that you could tell him yes. That you could say it with certainty and make it true. But how could you give him something you didn’t have?

“She will, eventually,” Morgan said, his voice firm.

You exhaled sharply. The words made your skin crawl.

“Is she?” The question slipped from your lips before you could stop it—low, bitter, nearly spat out under your breath. Just quiet enough that the kid wouldn’t hear. Just loud enough that Morgan did.

Before he could respond, you were already moving.

Your feet carried you toward the police car, toward the sick, selfish bastard they were shoving into the backseat. Your hand shot out, slamming the door closed—harder than necessary, just enough that it cracked against Richard’s face.

Morgan watched. So did Spencer.

And for the first time, he realized just how much of a puzzle you really were.

Partially because, throughout all of this, you hadn’t looked at him once. Not when he entered the room, not when he spoke, not even now, standing just a few feet away.

Partially because your eyes, when he finally caught a glimpse of them, were full of something he rarely saw outside of a case like this. Pure, undiluted rage.

Not just anger. Not just frustration. Something deeper. Something personal.

　　　　 　　　 .˳˳.⋅ॱ˙ ˙ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙ ˙ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅.　　

Feedback feeds motivation! Likes, reblogs and comments are all appreciated <3

[mcflymemes]

AS SAID BY BELLARA LUTARE - PARTY BANTER *  assorted banter from dragon age: the veilguard

trouble ahead.

looks like we're doing this!

we're getting good at this!

let's try to keep quiet and not disturb that thing.

i can't believe this café is hidden inside all the crowds and chaos. i love it!

so many things you could buy. how do you choose?

what was there before? does anyone even remember?

everyone helped out.

you shouldn't worry at all.

wish we had a few of those.

it changes every day.

some get killed, some go missing. some just leave.

you don't see your family or friends?

you must miss them.

i sure didn't expect that.

is that really enough punishment?

i know him. knew him, i mean, when we were kids.

i wonder if there's a basement.

kinda weird, isn't it?

this... changes everything.

nice room you have here.

i can't believe it. we're meeting!

um... what should i call you?

i'll catch up on sleep later.

i have a question. about undead.

that's amazing! and really bad of course.

i think we should prove it.

it feels weird. different. from other magic.

i'm not sure i'd like that.

when i went out there, i could feel it. somewhere.

you won't believe what i found yesterday.

too bad we can't ask.

i'll remember not to ask about that.

what do you think of it?

i'm making progress!

it's mostly a survival thing.

oh, i heard about that.

that would be a nightmare!

i knew you'd catch that.

is this difficult for you?

how do you know literally everyone?

the world must be a little broken, but you can't just erase it to start over.

i was so careful! did i miss a spot?

i have some questions for you!

you both seem pretty happy about it.

you know what? i wish you could, too.

you don't have to answer if you don't want to.

you'd be surprised.

my father taught me about every deadly plant. mostly to keep me from eating them, i think.

i was wondering something.

thanks again for dinner last night.

there's a sequel? have you read it?

i took a lot of notes while you were away.

thank you. really. you're a good friend. a really, really good friend.

old habits die hard.

what kind of traps?

i shouldn't make it anyone else's problem.