#we had a lot of wins this episode

[maybeimmac]

[egophiliac]

A guy who just wake up from a coma -> what did i miss?

Pomefiore was the last plot i follow before real life made me forget about our silly boys. How bad has the plot become now for our gang? Also who is that Gojo looking guy?

anon, I am so sorry and I mean this in the best way, but I do think episode 5 is the absolute funniest place to have stopped following Twst because shit starts escalating SO fast after that. episode 6 literally starts with a secret government shadow agency breaking down our doors and kidnapping students. zero to a million instantly.

and like...that's not even the zaniest thing so far? Ortho's hacked into the collective human unconscious. there's time travel (sort of). "Crowley might be Malleus' long-lost father" is a serious theory. if you'd told me any of this back pre-episode 6, I would have asked for the link to this unbelievable but highly intriguing fanfic.

also, episode 7 gave us (and then immediately took away 😔) the best character in the whole story:

[haliaiii]

As partners

[s-sputnik-k]

I'm early to this episode but, one of my favourite things about The Mighty Nein as a campaign is how... poignant and relevant it all feels? Like, we get about 10 episodes in before they're involved in a plot to usurp a corrupt politician (joined by fellow working class NPCs, not hired by a guild or someone powerful), 12 episodes before they witness a supposed terrorist attack (importantly from the ground as civilians, not as heroes), and 13 before they realise first-hand that not choosing sides is choosing to let the empire win (when they leave the Kryn soldier in the sewer to escape for himself, then watch his body be paraded through the streets later)

This is what I mean when I say The Mighty Nein had consequences. This campaign was near perfect for giving them a great amount of agency and impact on the world around them, while also acting as its own force that will continue to plough forward without them if they don't make a choice

I get that Vox Machina and Bell's Hells involved a lot of tyrants and politics, but to me they feel much more fantastical and easier to distance from reality--which is fine, they're different campaigns with different moods. But The Mighty Nein has always felt more down in the weeds of it all for me, which is part of what makes it so great to me

[valeriehalla]

actual writing advice

1. Use the passive voice.

What? What are you talking about, “don’t use the passive voice”? Are you feeling okay? Who told you that? Come on, let’s you and me go to their house and beat them with golf clubs. It’s just grammar. English is full of grammar: you should go ahead and use all of it whenever you want, on account of English is the language you’re writing in.

2. Use adverbs.

Now hang on. What are you even saying to me? Don’t use adverbs? My guy, that is an entire part of speech. That’s, like—that’s gotta be at least 20% of the dictionary. I don’t know who told you not to use adverbs, but you should definitely throw them into the Columbia river.

3. There’s no such thing as “filler”.

Buddy, “filler” is what we called the episodes of Dragon Ball Z where Goku wasn’t blasting Frieza because the anime was in production before Akira Toriyama had written the part where Goku blasts Frieza. Outside of this extremely specific context, “filler” does not exist. Just because a scene wouldn’t make it into the Wikipedia synopsis of your story’s plot doesn’t mean it isn’t important to your story. This is why “plot” and “story” are different words!

4. okay, now that I’ve snared you in my trap—and I know you don’t want to hear this—but orthography actually does kind of matter

First of all, a lot of what you think of as “grammar” is actually orthography. Should I put a comma here? How do I spell this word in this context? These are questions of orthography (which is a fancy Greek word meaning “correct-writing”). In fact, most of the “grammar questions” you’ll see posted online pertain to orthography; this number probably doubles in spaces for writers specifically.

If you’re a native speaker of English, your grammar is probably flawless and unremarkable for the purposes of writing prose. Instead, orthography refers to the set rules governing spelling, punctuation, and whitespace. There are a few things you should know about orthography:

English has no single orthography. You already know spelling and punctuation differ from country to country, but did you know it can even differ from publisher to publisher? Some newspapers will set parenthetical statements apart with em dashes—like this, with no spaces—while others will use slightly shorter dashes – like this, with spaces – to name just one example.

Orthography is boring, and nobody cares about it or knows what it is. For most readers, orthography is “invisible”. Readers pay attention to the words on a page, not the paper itself; in much the same way, readers pay attention to the meaning of a text and not the orthography, which exists only to convey that meaning.

That doesn’t mean it’s not important. Actually, that means it’s of the utmost importance. Because orthography can only be invisible if it meets the reader’s expectations.

You need to learn how to format dialogue into paragraphs. You need to learn when to end a quote with a comma versus a period. You need to learn how to use apostrophes, colons and semicolons. You need to learn these things not so you can win meaningless brownie points from your English teacher for having “Good Grammar”, but so that your prose looks like other prose the reader has consumed.

If you printed a novel on purple paper, you’d have the reader wondering: why purple? Then they’d be focusing on the paper and not the words on it. And you probably don’t want that! So it goes with orthography: whenever you deviate from standard practices, you force the reader to work out in their head whether that deviation was intentional or a mistake. Too much of that can destroy the flow of reading and prevent the reader from getting immersed.

You may chafe at this idea. You may think these “rules” are confusing and arbitrary. You’re correct to think that. They’re made the fuck up! What matters is that they were made the fuck up collaboratively, by thousands of writers over hundreds of years. Whether you like it or not, you are part of that collaboration: you’re not the first person to write prose, and you can’t expect yours to be the first prose your readers have ever read.

That doesn’t mean “never break the rules”, mind you. Once you’ve gotten comfortable with English orthography, then you are free to break it as you please. Knowing what’s expected gives you the power to do unexpected things on purpose. And that’s the really cool shit.

5. You’re allowed to say the boobs were big if the story is about how big the boobs were

Nobody is saying this. Only I am brave enough to say it.

Well, bye!

[cattimeswithjellie]

So I’ve been thinking about the way Joel and Grian cut their finale episodes and how different the energy is in each one. Grian said on the Imp and Skizz podcast this week that he really did want to win Wild Life but that Joel had already crowned himself the winner in his own mind and plowed through Grian like he wasn’t there. Looking at Joel’s episode, I believe that’s exactly what happened and that it’s also mostly Grian’s fault.

Grian was clearly on Joel’s side throughout the endgame, especially in Joel’s POV cut. He intervened to save Joel from danger, he promised Joel that he’d sacrifice his life for him. Heck, he came right out and told Joel that it was his turn to win. In Joel’s cut, the arrows Grian is shooting at the end do not seem threatening, any more that Pearl’s effort to take Scar out in Secret Life were more than halfhearted. Joel believes he is the winner because he thinks that Grian has chosen to help him win. With a more cerebral or theatrical player, this might have resulted in a dramatic standoff at the top of the tree where Grian revealed that it was now time for them to have a real fight to the death. But instead it was Joel, high on adrenaline and ready to win, and he clocked Grian right off the cliff before he could so much as begin a monologue.

So yeah, if we’re giving the guy a symbol, we could do a lot worse than “speeding car.”

[liloinkoink]

one thing i think people get wrong about Martyn in the life series is he really isn’t loyal

like yeah, we all know him as the Hand, following the Red King as far as their shared grave, but that is… truly the outlier and not the norm with him

i mean, let’s take a brief look at other seasons. i can’t speak to Secret Life, as it came out when i was incredibly busy and i haven’t yet had time to watch it, but what about the others?

he won Limited Life because he’s a chronic traitor! he betrayed Scott, his ally for the whole season, so that he could win, and said he’d been planning it / wanting to do it the whole session. spent a whole season protecting and helping Scott, and laughed in his face to betray as soon as he saw a shot to do so

Double Life was a whole mess of Martyn and weird loyalties. just one example: he spent all of the first session hanging out with Pearl in favor of even looking for either of their soulmates, with no regard for how he’d been putting his soulmate in danger. when their soulmates dumped them due to being ignored all session and stormed off, he dumped Pearl just because. one session in and he’s betrayed both his soulmate and his day one alliance!

Last Life he teamed with the Southlanders and then made the Shadow Alliance in secret, so he was on two teams and never truly committed to either. he tried to kill Grian basically immediately when he got boogeyman, for example, and in the final fight he tried to lure Ren to himself by offering to team and then tried to blow Ren up

of course, i’m simplifying and ignoring a lot. he doesn’t earn the loyal reputation for nothing. he does a lot of things to help his teammates, like giving a life to Ren in Last Life, trying all season to win Cleo over for all of Double Life, or working to protect Scott for all of Limited Life. it’s not like Martyn doesn’t play the part of a loyal friend well, but, well.

the thing about Martyn is that he’s selfish. he’s basically always going to prioritize his own survival over anything else. he’s never going to roll over and die, especially not for another person. he’s good at looking loyal, because having allies will help you survive, and he knows making outright enemies is a bad idea. he knows he can’t make it obvious he’s a traitor, because then he’ll certainly be killed. but, when it comes down to the wire, he will generally bail at the last minute to save his own skin rather than protecting the people around him. when his loyalty is tested, nine times out of ten, he will not only fail, but do so completely without remorse

it doesnt take a lot to become Martyn’s ally, and once you’ve got a foot in the door, he will take his allegiances seriously (at least, to a point). but it takes effort to really earn Martyn’s trust. and, even when it looks like you have, there’s no guarantee he won’t yank the rug out from under you if he decides having you alive is more detrimental to his survival than seeing you dead

and yes, you can especially see all of this in Third Life. Martyn was absolutely not instantly ride or die for Ren—for a lot of the earlier episodes, he won’t say he’s on Ren’s team or that he lives at Ren’s base, and often tells other players he’s simply Ren’s employee rather than teammate and that he’s wandering or homeless. he trusts Ren so little due to Ren’s inability to keep a secret or stand up for himself that even Ren acknowledges in the third session that Martyn is probably going to leave him and find someone else. Martyn’s loyalty had to be earned, and it very nearly wasn’t. if Ren had taken a session more to grow a spine, Martyn probably would have left

but Ren became an ally that Martyn could rely on, who could stand up for himself and keep secrets. it became more beneficial to Martyn’s survival to have Ren around, so he stayed with Ren for the rest of the season, and committed hard to their kingdom. Ren earns Martyn’s trust by becoming a more dependable ally, and because of that, Ren earns Martyn’s loyalty…. probably

(half related, bc i want it in the post and i don’t know where to put it: after the execution, two sessions after Ren officially earns Martyn’s loyalty, Ren admits to being genuinely convinced Martyn was going to take him out of the series as soon as Ren gave him the chance!)

because yes, even here, even after Ren earns his trust and Ren trusts Martyn to execute him and they become King and Hand, Martyn was okay with killing Ren to save himself. Martyn has said he was going to betray Ren in the final session of Third Life. his entire plan was that when he and Ren hit the final 5, he was going to kill Ren. end Red Winter, usher in Red Spring. even the most loyal version of Martyn was a traitor!

now, you can decide for yourself if you believe he could have actually gone through with this—he and Ren were 6th and 7th out of the game, after all. maybe he wouldn’t have been able to steel himself. maybe his loyalty would have, for once, been too strong to kill Ren.

but it’s very possible that even the most loyal version of Martyn—the version of Martyn who has created this “loyal” image of Martyn in fanon—was only loyal because he died too soon to show his true colors

[tomsparkyr]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝟏!

following episode six of 'inside' — george clarke x fem!reader

by any means i do not own 'inside' and all credit is theirs (!!)

(I’M SO SORRY IN ADVANCE my little heart needed to have some angst but to make it up to you im extending this series to their lives outside of inside!! it will involve you in george’s stream and videos; insta au, twitter au, etc etc too)

(lowk took my anger about the chelsea v ipswich game out on this so apologies😭)

(also also also !! any requests put in will happen i promise once i finish this series bc im in love with the ideas you’re putting in so it’ll only be a matter of time xx)

wc: 8.3K

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“PK, we’ll start with you. Please make your way down to Room 19.” Vik ordered as you all sat in your previous seats.

You turned to Milli, “This can’t be happening right now…” You whispered, watching her face blank and attention directed to the floor as she chewed on her lip. She feared the worst after being awarded the winner of the talent show, a target placed on her back at the worst time possible.

You reached your hand out to hold hers in comfort as George had his arm slung over your shoulder, leaning into his chest as your knee bounced up and down in nervousness. George pressed a soft kiss against your head, “You’re alright.” He murmured against your temple.

Once you were called over to vote someone to be eliminated, you sighed and stood up from your seat, glancing over at George and Milli one more time, shooting them a sweet smile.

Entering Room 19, you settled yourself down on the comfy sofa and crossed your legs, fiddling with your fingers as you debated your answer. “You guys are such dicks, you know that.” You pointed at the camera for starters.

“I’m going with this person because I feel like their alliance is strong and if you really want to win this game, you have to break them up… as mean as that sounds.” You cringed at your words. 

“Also, I’m convinced this person will most likely vote for me so I’ve gotta back my chances of not getting voted out. So with that, I’m voting for Whitney.” You nodded awkwardly at the camera. 

The crew inside Room 19 told you it was a good enough answer and requested you return to the living room. In doing so, you trudged back with a sigh and a sick feeling swirling in your stomach.

It was pretty obvious from previous encounters that people in the house were out to get you, so your chances of being voted out in this scenario were quite high, as much as you didn’t want to admit it. You knew you had people who wouldn’t vote for you, but the alliances were stacked against you.

You entered the room and fell back into your previous position, George greeted you with a soft smile that didn’t reach his eyes, but his arms were out for you to settle in.

“All right, guys. I don’t wanna be doing this.” Vik started, his hands clasped in front of him as he rocked on his feet next to Specs. “We had a lot of fun. I genuinely actually really enjoyed hosting that talent show, but the person eliminated from Inside today is…”

Your legs shook in nervousness and Milli’s head leant itself in your shoulder, neither of you feeling safe in this case. George’s hand intertwined with yours and stared at your side profile, you looking forward with your eyes trained on Vik, mentally begging him not to call your name out.

“Y/N.” Vik announced. 

A couple people gasped and Milli’s jaw dropped next to you, her face painted with guilt and sorrow. George’s hand squeezed yours and you felt his tense up next to you, his eyes closed shut and lip caught between his teeth. You could hear him muttering beside you, “No, no, no.” His cheeks were flushed and he ran his hands through his hair as the consequence of his actions crept up on him.

“And Milli.” Vik announced.

Everyone’s head snapped towards the two who stood up, jaws dropping as Milli’s face paled. “What?” Her voice shook.

“Only one of you will be eliminated.” You threw your head in your hands as you felt the overwhelming pressure and sickening feeling settle in your stomach. Milli shook her head, “No. I’m not…” She peered over at you. “I’ll go.” She gripped your hand.

“Unfortunately, Milli. You can’t decide that… a game of rock-paper-scissors will decide your fate.” Vik reluctantly said, looking at the pair of you distraught on the sofa.

“Fuck.” You heard George curse next to you, his grip not loosening as you sat up and faced your new best friend in here, realising that in this moment, you could lose one of the people you were closest to in here.

You swallowed and looked at Milli who shook her head with a frown etched across her face. You both shared a look of agreement, that neither of you would be mad at the other if you were to go, and that the first thing you would do as soon as you leave this place is contact each other (and tell the other all the gossip they missed, but that was irrelevant right now).

Both of you held your fists out and counted to three, before you held out a scissor motion with your hand. Your heart dropped as you looked down at Milli’s which was held out in a paper motion. 

“Oh my God.” You mumbled and left George’s grip, lunging yourself into a tight hug with Milli, her arms wrapping around you. Milli smiled and shook her head, “Y/N, it’s fine. I’m glad I got out because of you.”

You couldn’t help but feel immense guilt, not that it was your fault in any way, it was pure luck. Milli pulled away from the hug and placed her hands on your shoulders,

“You’re gonna win it, girlie.” She whispered and winked at you, voice low enough so no one else could hear as they all stood up to bid their farewells to Milli.

“Milli, you have ten minutes to collect your things and leave the house. You are eliminated from Inside.” Vik looked down at the floor.

Milli looked behind you and nodded for you to turn around, and in doing so, you made eye contact with George who was now stood up. You looked back at Milli who smiled at you, mentally telling you to seek him out.

You walked over to George with your head hung low, feeling his fingers brush your forearms. “You okay?” He whispered and ducked his head down to try and read your face. He understood from the shake of your head that you weren’t doing alright, and quickly pulled you into a tight hug, his hand placed on the back of your head and hid your face from the rest of the group.

His other hand rubbed up and down your back, guiding the pair of you to follow the group as Milli packed up her things. George brushed a stray hair away from your face and tucked it behind your ear, “Come on, let’s go say goodbye to Milli.” He said as his thumb lingered on your cheek.

Your heart sunk further into your stomach as Milli edged closer to the door, the constant reminder that it was partially your fault, or it could have been you with your suitcases in this moment was in the back of your mind.

“Hey, George, close the door.” Jason laughed as Milli waved from the otherside of the doorway. Milli jokingly shouted, “No!”

George leaned for the handle, “Stay out!” He laughed as he shut the door. As everyone made their way back into the living room, you peered into the glass window of the door and gave Milli one final wave goodbye, her reciprocating it and blowing you a kiss as the elevator doors closed on her.

As you walked back to the group, Cinna slung an arm around your shoulder, “You alright?” You looked at her and nodded slowly, “I will be.” She smiled at you.

“We’re so doing streams together once we’re out of here.” She nudged you with a wide grin on her face. You matched her expression, “Fuck yeah we are.” Cinna clapped and skipped back to the living room, pulling you behind her as your laughter could be heard around the house.

time skip!

You and George sat on the sofa with your feast settled on the cushions next to the pair of you, your back against his chest and his fingers rubbing circles into your skin that was snuck underneath the hem of your shirt.

You felt and heard him laugh behind you, his chest vibrating against you. Tilting your head back, you smiled at him, “What are you laughing at?” You poked at him.

George shook his head, “Nothing.” He shrugged. Not accepting that as a good enough answer, you sat up and turned to face him. “Well, obviously it’s something.” You shuffled towards him.

You watched him sigh and he intertwined his hand with yours. “It’s just funny…” He started but his voice trailed off. “What is?” You asked.

“Us.” He licked his lips. He took your furrowed brows as a sign to carry on, “It’s just ridiculous how we’ve been friends for ages and all it took was us being forced to live together for 5 days that I grew the balls to actually kiss you.”

Your cheeks grew red as you laughed at him, “If that’s how you wanna put it.” You shoved him in the shoulder lightly with your free hand. “It’s true though!” He defended his statement.

Your laughter quietened down and you stared at each other for a moment, “I can’t wait til we get out of here.” He whispered and edged closer to you. You leaned into him slightly, “Why’s that?” A smile crept up on your face.

“Because then we can act like a couple without cameras watching everything we do.” George said as his fingers toyed with yours. You raised a brow, “A couple?” He nodded with a soft smile etched on his face, “I’ll make it offical once we get outta here, don’t you worry about that, darling.” He ran a hand through his hand and grinned as your cheeks grew a shade of red.

“And I can do this without anyone interrupting us.” He leaned in and pressed his lips against yours, a hand finding its way to hold the back of your head and bring your face closer to his.

You smiled into the kiss and rested your hands on his chest, the fabric of his shirt bunched in your fist slightly as George deepened the kiss. 

His other hand left yours and settled on your hip, squeezing it lightly as the sweet kiss continued.

George leaned into you which made you push him back with a laugh, “Not in the feast!” He looked around and saw the pizza resting on the cushion and nodded in acceptance. 

You were lucky that George had pulled away from the kiss as Cinna walked into the room, the remaining Insiders trailing behind her as she waved everyone in, “Attention! Everyone!” She shouted, holding an envelope.

You and George got up and stood around the table with everyone else, “It says, ‘Congratulations Cinna. You’ve successfully completed your mission. You may reveal your mission to the group.’” Cinna read out loud.

“Guys, holy fuck! Today has been shitty.” Cinna flung her head back. You looked to your side to see George munching away on the pizza, barely recognising that Cinna was announcing something. You slapped his bicep with the back of your hand and nodded for him to listen in on Cinna; him responding with a grumbled confusion with his mouth full of food. You shook your head and balanced on your tip-toes to mutter to him, “Just listen and stop making out with the food.”

George coughed a laugh and covered his mouth as it was still stuffed. He swallowed and nudged his foot with yours, “Jealous, babe?” 

You furrowed your brows, “Babe?” Your eyes crinkled as you chuckled, “That’s a new one.” You teased the nickname. 

George just shrugged his shoulders, “Just trying something out.” Cinna sighed with exaggeration, “Lovebirds! Listen in!”

“Anyways, we have a challenge, and the challenge was on me the entire day.” Cinna started. “The challenge was for me to lie and say that I was a traitor for the Sidemen in order to convince all of you that you had to do something, or that you had to keep that secret. You could not tell the other person. Y/N, I’m surprised you didn’t tell George if I’m honest!” She pointed at you from across the table.

You smile sheepishly, “I nearly did,” You gestured with your fingers, “If you hadn’t said today, George would have known by the time we were in bed.” George raised his brows and slung an arm around your shoulder.

Cinna faked a gasp, “You were gonna rat me out to your boyfriend?” George only clicked his fingers, “Fuck yeah she was.” He stuck his tongue out at the American across the table as you waved your hands for Cinna to continue.

“And all day, I’ve been working on this shit so we can save money, and you guys spent £50K on this fucking feast so…” She trailed off. You looked up at George who slowly put the piece of pizza down, “Your greed sickens me.” You whispered to him.

George ignored you and clapped his hands together for Cinna and cheered, everyone else following suit.

time skip!

You and George were led in bed, his arm draped around you as you were fast asleep on your back. George was sitting upright slightly talking to Cinna, you being completely unaware of the conversation going on.

“I’m fully fucking regretting my decision.” George admitted and ran a hand through his hair. “As soon as I… I mean, I regretted it as soon as I came around the corner.” George made an effort not to move so much, not willing to risk you waking up and listening in.

Cinna nodded, “Yeah, I got scared that they were gonna go over who voted for who. And if it was you and you didn’t get voted out, it means that’s why Milli went home.”

George inhaled sharply, “Yeah…” Cinna continued, “Which is what it could have been. I was like, ‘Holy fuck.’”

“That’s why I kept second guessing everything.” George mumbled, his eyes drifting to you asleep in his arms.

Cinna nodded towards your frame, “Are you gonna tell her that you’re feeling like this?” George shook his head, “No, Cinna. I fucked up today.”

The American tilted her head, “What do you mean?” George stared at you, your relaxed features and hair sprawled out on the pillow, looking beautiful in the shirt that belonged to him. 

He sighed and closed his eyes, “No… it’s nothing. Tomorrow is gonna be a whole different day.” 

time skip!

“Rise and shine!” JJ’s voice echoed around the bedroom, causing you to groan and bury your head into George’s bare shoulder. 

Your hands drifted to his back and lightly scratched the skin, “God, I’m never going to get used to that.” You complained about the shrill voice of your dear friend, feeling the urge to shout at him once you leave this house for waking you up in the most painful ways possible.

George sighed as you scratched his skin, “Don’t think the late night helped us, Y/N.” You felt him smirk against your temple. 

You flicked his arm and sat up with the duvet pulled against your chest, “We are not talking about that on television, George.” You mocked him saying your name just as he had done before.

George looked at you as he rolled to lay on his back, ��Didn’t object when the shower was cold though--” “George!” You gasped, ushering him to quieten his voice down in the room full of people; not wishing for them to hear the 

late night rendezvous you got up to with George.

He laughed at you and reached for his cap that sat on the floor, placing the item backwards on your head. George patted the hat that sat on top of your bed hair, “Getting all shy the morning after?” He teased you. 

You rolled your eyes and flicked the cap off your head, placing it on George, “You should wear this more often,” You stared at his rugged handsomeness as his mullet poked out the back of the cap, “It suits you.”

George smirked and ran a hand through the hair that was poking out, “Got a crush on me, Y/N?” He laughed. You only sighed and tried to suppress a smile, muttering that you needed to get ready for the day as you left the bed and strolled to the girls sitting at the table.

time skip!

You were led on the sofa, legs propped up on Cinna’s lap as you were curled into the corner of the sofa. You were in a deep chat with Cinna, discussing the night before and what’s left to come, muttering how you missed Milli. “She’s so gonna make fun of me once she sees what I’ve been doing without her.” You laughed.

Cinna smiled at you, “I can’t wait for the edits to appear on my for you page, especially the ship ones!” She winked at George who was sitting next to you but engaged in a different conversation. You grinned, “There better be ones of me to Taylor Swift songs.” 

“Don’t worry, Chris will be on that.” George poked in the conversation, mentioning how his blonde friend back at home was a fan of the artist, hence why you and him went to the Eras Tour together.

Everyone in the room groaned as Tobi rounded the corner, “Hi, Insiders. How are we feeling?” He waved at all of you. You all murmured in response.

“Nervous?” Tobi tilted his head, “Do you guys know how to feel when you see me?” Shaking your head, Tobi smiled at you and continued.

“Insiders, one by one… you’ll be sent down to Room 19, where you will receive further instructions. While you are in this room, there must be zero communication amongst yourselves. If I see anyone break that, £20,000 will instantly be deducted from the prize fund. The first Insider to go down to Room 19 will be Mr. PK Humble.” Tobi said.

The room was suffocated with silence, dread swarming in the pit of your stomach, mentally praying it wouldn’t be the same situation as yesterday; you couldn’t go through all that again.

Once your name was called, you trugged over to Room 19 and sat in the familiar seat, stomach twisting with nerves. You were told the rules, vote for someone you want to eliminate and vote for someone you wish to gain immunity, but they were at risk of elimination.

You groaned, “Oh God, this is tough…” You bit your lip and shook your head, “I would vote George for immunity but I can’t take that risk, I can’t have him up for elimination.” You confessed to the cameras.

Your fingers wound together, “This is gonna sound so horrible.” You tilted your head back to hide the expression your face read, “But I’m going to vote for Whitney again. I’m convinced she doesn’t like me so I’ve gotta protect myself… I don’t know!” You gestured and laughed with nerves.

“And the other person I want to vote for is Mya.” You nodded, “Because I like to think she doesn’t hate me and we’ve bonded since the start, so I would like her to get immunity… and no one else will vote for her so I know she’ll be safe!” You smiled at the camera, pleased with your answer.

As you entered the living room once more, George winked at you as you walked back to your seat. Tobi pointed a finger at you, “Hey! No communicating!” Your eyes widened and looked between him and George, “We didn’t say anything!” You protested.

Tobi squinted his eyes and flickered his gaze between you two, “Fine… consider this a formal warning.” You sighed gratefully and fell back into your seat, legs placed back on Cinna’s lap.

“Insiders, you were each asked to vote for two people. I can now confirm that the most votes were received by… George.”

Your heart dropped into your stomach and your head snapped to face him, seeing him nod slowly in acceptance. You shook your head and your brows furrowed to try and hold back tears, the realisation that it was all over for you and George hitting you so suddenly, “I’m not--”

“And Farah.” Tobi finished.

You swallowed and your heart sank further as you remembered what you had to do yesterday against your best friend. “Meaning you’ve put us in that position again.” Tobi looked down.

George sighed and slowly inched his hand into yours underneath the cushion, fingers intertwining and squeezing your hand, worried he’ll have to let go soon. “Fuck.” He muttered.

“As we learnt yesterday, the person going home will be decided by a game of rock-paper-scissors.” Tobi repeated.

George glanced over at you, seeing you were already looking at him with a solem facial expression. He tilted his head and bit his lip to stop a frown sneaking its way on his face, “Y/N, please don’t.” He mumbled seeing your eyes flood with tears threatening to spill, hand cupping your face, “Don’t worry about me.” You shook your head, not trusting your words.

George leaned in and pressed a kiss to the side of your head as he was asked to stand up at the front, looking over at you one more time, “I’m fine.” He mouthed, but you could read his disappointed face he was trying to hide from everyone else, but you knew him too well.

You breathed out heavily, head resting on Cinna’s shoulder and she slung a comforting arm around your shoulder. Everyone stared as George and Farah nodded at each other, hands held out ready to play.

As soon as Tobi said, “Shoot.” Your eyes were trained on George’s hand, watching it form a fist; quickly switching over to see Farah’s in the form of scissors. You sighed and tilted your head back, listening to everyone else gasp in the room.

“Farah, you have been eliminated.” George immediately pulled her into a hug, obviously feeling at fault for her elimination, similar to how you felt the night before.

You walked over to Farah first, embracing her and flattening out the hair that had tangled on the back of her head, “I’m gonna miss you.” You reassured her, Farah’s smile filled with tears the only response she gave you, too overwhelmed to formulate a proper response, one in which you respected.

Watching Farah leave the room with everyone else, you looked behind you and saw George standing awkwardly to the side with his hands bunched in his jogger pockets.

You swallowed, “Don’t scare me like that.” You told him, breathing out as you felt tears well in your eyes as everything became all too overstimulating at the moment. Within less than 12 hours, you and George were one vote away from your bags void of this room and bed’s empty as if you were never even there.

George wrapped his arms around your waist, swaying the pair of you back and forth. You were still shaken about how you and George had nearly been sent home, and the fact that you had lost some of the people you were closest with in this house.

George’s hand stroked the back of your head, “That was fucking awful.” You mumbled tearfully into his chest, listening to the sound of his heartbeat to calm yourself down. “It’s alright, it’s alright.” He whispered into your hair, repeatedly pressing kisses on your forehead to sooth you.

You pulled yourself back from his chest, still leaning against him as you tilted your head up to look at him. “Who did you vote for? Both times.” You whispered, hand fiddling with his top as he stroked loose hairs back from your face, wanting to capture your beauty more.

George held your face in his hand, pausing before saying, “Whitney.” You nodded and tried to hold back your tears for the second wave. Your lips trembled as your voice broke, “Me too.”

George pressed his forehead against yours, “If you leave, I’ll leave too.” 

Tears started running down your face again, George tugged you into his arms more securely. “I’m so sorry.” He mumbled into your hair. 

You chose to ignore his apology, seeing as it wasn’t relevant, it was never his fault you two were both forced into these situations. You only pulled him into the hug tighter, his reassuring words going deaf to your ears; just one more day and you’ll be leaving this house, with or without the money, but definitely with George.

time skip!

“Foam dart blaster! We could all get Nerf guns and have a Nerf gunfight!” George exclaimed, joy written all over his face as he shook your shoulders from behind, reading out the items from the shop.

You gasped as you read the list, matching George’s excitement. “We could team up!” You twisted to face him, raising both your hands to high five him. He grabbed your hands and jumped up and down with you, both of you squealing like kids.

DDG confirmed one dart blaster to double check what they were like and when the item emerged from the shop, everyone gasped and tried to reach for it. “Oh my God!” George’s grin grew wider. DDG pointed at George, “Get five more.”

Cinna counted out the rest of the people as George stood up to the camera, “I’d like to confirm seven dart blasters.” He smiled at the camera.

The door opened to reveal all the dart blasters, everyone reaching for one. “Look at the state of these things!” George gasped and dragged you over, holding your hand. “Damn! Fuck dinner. Let’s go eat this.” He admired the blasters, passing one to you.

You turned to Cinna, “He’s actually gonna pick a dart blaster over me.” Shaking your head and pointing at George as he cradled the weapons. He nodded at you with raised brows, “You’ve been replaced, I’m sharing the bed with these tonight.” 

Cinna laughed at your blank facial expression, you looking at the camera to check if you had heard George correctly.

After some time, you sat at the table with Mya, chatting about life and what you’re going to do with the money if you win it. Your conversation was interrupted as George tapped you on the shoulder, “Come with me.” He winked, your eyes glancing down at the gun slung over his shoulder.

You grabbed yours off the table and rounded the corner to see Cinna and PK led on the floor as if they had been shot, “Say hello to my little friend!” George reenacted and started shooting at the pair, you laughed and joined in, aiming for Cinna who didn’t realise there were two of you.

“What the fuck!” Cinna gasped and sat up, picking up her gun and aiming for you, getting a good few shots in. PK rolled around on the floor, you unable to hold your laughter in when George started yelling. 

Cinna managed to aim perfectly and hit you straight in the head, “Oh! Headshot!” She yelled out in excitement and cheered. You pretended to fall back and slide down the wall, playing the part as if you died, yet George hadn’t noticed and continued shooting.

You kicked George’s shin, “George! I’m literally dead!” Cinna burst out laughing. “What?” George yelled back but didn’t spare you a glance, still shooting PK.

“George, I shot your girlfriend!” Cinna pointed at your body on the floor. George furrowed his brows and looked down at you. He dropped his gun and dramatically yelled, “No!” He knelt down to reach your level. 

He was about to perform a full monologue mourning your death, but you couldn’t hold in your laughter and you leaned forward to rest your head on George’s shoulder. 

You nodded towards his gun behind him, “You went fully sexy Nathan Drake then.” You winked at him and he laughed as your niche reference. “Only you would say that.” He shook his head and offered his hands out to help you up off the floor, which you accepted.

time skip!

“Let’s recreate scenes!” PK had suggested, prompting all of you to reenact the moment Mandi was eliminated. “Where were we all?” You asked, looking around the room.

PK pointed at Cinna, “You and me, we’ll pretend to be Y/N and George!” The American hopped off her spot on the beanbag and layed out on the sofa. PK sat next to her and held her hands, shifting shoulder to shoulder with her. “We’re not gonna recreate it all because that wouldn’t be Netflix appropriate.” PK smirked, staring straight at the camera in the corner of the room with a suggestive eyebrow raise.

Your mouth dropped open, “We are not like that!” You said as you watched PK and Cinna pretend to lean in for a kiss before staring straight at each other. Cinna whipped her head around to you, “Yeah! You’re worse!” PK threw his head back laughing.

Jason began the scene until he was interrupted with the TV behind him going off; ‘Please head to the Challenge Arena.’ It read.

Everyone exclaimed while some (Jason and PK) cheered. The group walked down to the Arena, the door opening to reveal a screen and a seat next to it, the screen reading ‘Spill The Tea.’

“I’m cooked.” PK laughed. George wrapped an arm around your waist and tugged you close, pressing a soft kiss against the side of your head and dragging you down onto the seat next to him, squished between him and Mya, his hand settling on your thigh as Ethan and Tobi stood proud before you.

“It’s time to spill the tea.” Ethan smiled, barely able to contain his excitement for the drama about to ensue. “Let’s see what you guys really think about each other. Each one of you will be called to the hot seat, and you’ll be questioned on something someone said or done, and it’s your job to get the correct answer.” 

After a couple rounds, it was PK’s turn to be in the spotlight. Tobi read off the cue cards, “Which Insider was told, ‘After our kiss last night, I haven’t stopped thinking about you.’”

You closed your eyes in silent horror, hearing the group of people around you all gasp and look between each other. PK’s mouth dropped open, “What have I missed?” He laughed and rocked on his chair. 

You and George subtly looked over at each other, trying to hide the grin and pink cheeks that were growing on both of your faces. “Who’s kissing who?” Pk mumbled to himself; George’s hand on your thigh tensed and squeezed it slightly as his attention remained on the man in front of you all.

PK squinted his eyes and pointed at you and George, “Somethings telling me it’s you two…” You held a straight face as Tobi’s stare watched to see if you communicated the answer in any way to PK.

PK smirked as he saw George’s hand comfortably on your thigh, “Yeah, I’m going with the two lovebirds over there.” 

Ethan nodded and urged everyone to look at the screen, “Let’s find out.”

The screen turned on to show you and George sat at the vanity in the bedrooms, staring into each other's eyes. The room gasped and bellowed in laughter and screams as the intimate moment between you and George was exposed, causing you to hide your face in his neck, hearing his airy chuckles as he watched on.

“And after our kiss last night,” Your cheek burned under his touch. “I haven’t stopped thinking about you. Everything about you, Y/N.” He whispered, heart sinking at your silence, “Please say something.” He pleaded.

Instead of saying anything, you leaned forward and pressed your lips against his harshly. He grunted in shock and quickly settled into the kiss, hand rounding to the back of your head and tangling in your hair, pushing your face closer to his. George tilted his head to deepen the kiss, his tongue slipping past your lips. You sighed at the contact and wound your hand through his mullet, finding yourself leaning forward to practically sit on his lap.

George noticed this and placed his hands on the backs of your thighs, hoisting you onto his lap, catching you by surprise. You yelped into the kiss which caused him to part from you for a moment, “You drive me insane, Y/N.” Your hands cupped his cheeks and you could feel his jaw moving from the intensity he was kissing you with, heat flowing through your body. 

“Well, PK. You got both answers spot on!” Tobi clapped. 

PK tore his eyes away from the screen with his jaw slack, “George, you horny bastard!” He yelled, pointed at the man who blinked in shock. You covered your mouth to suppress your laughter as everyone, including Tobi and Ethan, slammed the table near them in screeches of laughter.

It was then your turn to be in the hot seat, “Y/N, please join us at the front.” Ethan called your name, he avoided eye contact with you, a sinking feeling settling in his stomach as he held the cue card to reveal your question.

“Oh no…” You pulled an awkward smile, standing up from your seat and letting George’s hand that was resting on your thigh fall off. As you walked away, you heard him mutter a soft, “Good luck.” You winked back at him.

You sat down onto the stool, adjusting your hoodie as you felt your nerves perk up. Looking over at Ethan, he cleared his throat and looked at you with a guilty facial expression. “Y/N. An Insider has lied to you.”

Your eyebrows raised as the people sat down opposite you dropped their mouths open, Cinna looking between them all and mumbling a “What?”

You were shocked to say the least, “Oh…” You laughed awkwardly and fiddled with the hem of your hoodie as Ethan continued. “An Insider has previously lied to you about who they voted for. Please may you name who you think this Insider is.” He declared.

You licked your lips, peering over at the group and seeing their stoic facial expressions. You were confused, you assumed everyone had been truthful to you about their voting habits in the past, now second guessing everything anyones said to you beforehand.

Scratching your jawline, you wince and let your eyes trail everyones body language to see if anyone was subtly giving you a hint, despite it not being a part of the game. “Oh, God…” You bit your lip.

Cinna held a calm facial expression, you had already crossed her off your list as she confirmed to you a couple days ago that she wouldn’t and has never lied to you within this house. Mya looked downwards, actively avoiding eye-contact with you as she picked at her nails. George’s leg was bouncing up and down, his elbows leaning on his knees as his hand rubbed against his chin; he stared directly at you with pleading eyes, taking keen notice of how his face looked paler than usual. 

When you weren’t looking, George shook his head and made eye-contact with Ethan and Tobi on the side, both of them looking back at him with a subtle frown and a dreadful feeling looming over them.

You took a deep breath, “I’m gonna go with PK,” You pointed at him, “Only because I’m going off the assumption that they’re tricking me and the lying took place in one of the early days.” PK nodded at you with an understanding smile. “And me and PK weren’t close by then, so he might have lied to keep himself safe and in the game.” You reasoned.

Tobi nodded, “So your final answer is PK?” You deliberated for a moment, cringing and finalising, “Yes. I’m locking in PK.”

Tobi breathed out heavily and screwed his eyes shut, then pointed at the screen behind you. “Let’s see if you were right.”

You swiveled yourself around on the stood, “Fuck.” You bit your lip and tried to play off this whole event with a forced smile, your heart pounding out of your chest.

The TV flicked on and showed the image of you and George stood in an embrace after Farah’s elimination. 

Your eyes widened and you snapped your head around to face George, confused by this entire thing and allowing yourself to give him the benefit of the doubt at the moment when the video wasn’t finished.

George wrapped his arms around your waist, swaying the pair of you back and forth. You were still shaken about how you and George had nearly been sent home, and the fact that you had lost some of the people you were closest with in this house.

George’s hand stroked the back of your head, “That was fucking awful.” You mumbled tearfully into his chest, listening to the sound of his heartbeat to calm yourself down. “It’s alright, it’s alright.” He whispered into your hair, repeatedly pressing kisses on your forehead to sooth you.

You pulled yourself back from his chest, still leaning against him as you tilted your head up to look at him. “Who did you vote for? Both times.” You whispered, hand fiddling with his top as he stroked loose hairs back from your face, wanting to capture your beauty more.

George held your face in his hand, pausing before saying, “Whitney.” You nodded and tried to hold back your tears for the second wave. Your lips trembled as your voice broke, “Me too.”

George pressed his forehead against yours, “If you leave, I’ll leave too.” 

Tears started running down your face again, George tugged you into his arms more securely. “I’m so sorry.” He mumbled into your hair. 

The TV paused for a moment, allowing you to turn back to George who stared at the floor. Your brows were furrowed alongside everyone else's. You shook your head, “Wait, so who the fuck did you vote for?”

Ethan sighed, “Y/N, please may you turn your attention back to the screen.”

You obliged, swallowing a sick feeling bubbling in your throat as you heard George behind you protesting, “No, no. Let’s not--” “Y/N, watch the video.” Tobi stated.

Your palms were sweating and your head hurt as you watched the TV flick back on. A picture of George sat in Room 19.

George sighed, crossing his legs on the sofa as he held the cards in his hands, looking through the familiar faces before picking one out. He held the back of the card to the camera as he began to explain his voting.

“This is an extremely tough decision to make,” He said, fumbling with the corners of the card. “I like everyone in the house now, we’ve all warmed up to each other and I’ve already made memories to last a lifetime.” 

George licked his lips and shook his head, “But I feel like I’ve been playing it safe this entire time and it’s clear that in doing so, people have seen me as a target to vote out.”

“I can’t have people in here thinking I’m playing a game, we’re all here for the same reason and would go to certain lengths to get it.” He rubbed his face with his hands, groaning into them. Then leaning back and resting both of his arms on the back of the sofa.

“I’ve decided to vote for this person because I’m completely convinced that they’ll be safe, so technically my vote doesn’t count for anything.” He started his reasoning.

“But in doing so, I’m also proving a point with my vote. It’ll probably shake up the house for all the wrong reasons but… I guess that’s part of the reason why I’m doing it.” He laughed and threw his head back, running his fingers through his hair before picking up the card again.

“So, with that. I’ve decided to vote for…” He flipped the card around to show the camera.

“Y/N.”

The video ended as everyone around you gasped.

You fell still, heart pounding as you felt it sink deeper in your stomach. You shook your head with your tongue wedged between your teeth, biting down hard as you tried to stop the tears from falling from your water coated eyes. Your hands were shaking as you itched your neck, feeling a flush of embarrassment running through your body.

You refused to turn around, you couldn’t bear to see anyone, especially George, with you crying over the person you were the closest with to betray you.

Fuck, you had literally kissed yesterday. You literally fucking slept with him. And he wants you out; what happened to ‘if you leave, I leave’ bullshit? Was he always lying? Did this entire ‘relationship’ mean anything to him? Or did he just want to win and saw you as an easy route to the final?

“Y/N, I am so sorr--” George started. “Don’t.” Your voice trembled, holding back tears. You wanted to get out of this room right now, the feeling was suffocating you.

You looked over at the void where you previously sat, feeling sick that you had to sit next to him again. Shaking your head, you walked to the opposite end of the bench, nodding for Jason to move down and for you to sit on the end.

In silence, Jason obliged with a guilty face, feeling awful for you right now. You felt George’s eyes burn into the side of you face, lip tucked between his teeth with words and apologies threatening to spill; but since he’s fucked up so bad already, he owed you the right for space right now.

Sitting down, you rubbed your face with your hands, sighing heavily and clearing your throat to cover any emotion that was spilling over. PK’s hands brushed your shoulders and squeezed them in support, you placed your hand on top of his as a silent appreciation.

“Y/N, are you okay?” Ethan said softly, eyes casting over you sat with your head low. You shrugged your shoulders, “I don’t know.” You said, voice coming out a lot quieter than you intended, words trembling as your hands shook in the sleeves of your hoodie.

Tobi nodded at you, “Alright. We’ll move on.” He shared a glance with Ethan, “I’m gonna call PK back to the hot seat.”

“Which Insider has lied about their temptation?” He was asked. You knew it was George, he had told you. The reminder of his immunity felt like they were rubbing salt into the wound, the image of you refusing a moment of clarity for George and his safely in this show, and his willingness to vote you out; when was this fucking challenge going to end?

After locking in the answer of Jason, the clip of George rolled through. You didn’t look up at the screen, eyes glued to the floor as your lips trembled, eyes rolling back to stop tears blurring your vision.

Cinna watched you as the clip played, reaching her hand behind Jason and tapping your side. You looked up at the contact and felt Cinna’s hand nudge yours, you let her hand intertwine with yours, knowing you needed the comfort right now. A frown deepened on your face, the impending sickening feeling of George snaking you out replayed over and over in your head; kicking and torturing you for being so naive.

George raised his hand to defend his case, “I would like to say I did feel absolutely awful as soon as I went round the corner. I told Y/N. I told Cinna. I told Milli.” He glanced over at you, yet you didn’t look anywhere near his direction.

Jason turned to you, “You knew?” You swallowed and looked at him, “Yeah, but if I knew we were snaking each other out, I would have told you all.” You spat to try and deflect your sadness.

George let out a sigh, stomach swarming with guilt; he needed to talk to you immediately. “Y/N…” “No, it’s fine. Gotta do what you gotta do to win.” You shrugged your shoulders and stared ahead, the screen in front of you a mockery to what you wish you hadn’t seen.

Tobi sighed, “Wow. That was some spillage.” Ethan looked over at everyone, “I think the dynamic’s shifted a bit.”

Once you were given the signal to leave, you instantly hopped out your seat and strode towards the exit doors, waiting for no one. George watched you leave, lingering in his seat for a moment and sighing, looking over at where you once sat next to him with his hand on your thigh, smiling and tucking your head into his neck. 

Jason tapped George on the shoulder, “You gonna talk to her?” George nodded, “Eventually. Well, when she wants to see me.” 

Jason cringed, “You fucked up, brother.” George nodded and rubbed his face with his hands, “I know.” He mumbled. “I know.” He repeated in a whisper.

time skip!

“Hey, can we talk?” You heard George mumble from around the corner. You were sitting where you had kissed, once a happy memory, but now tainted with a feeling that none of it was real. 

You didn’t respond, so George took the liberty to sit down next to you with enough comfortable space between you two.

“I’m sorry.” He started.

“No, you’re not.” You whispered, voice thick with sadness.

George tilted his head with furrowed brows, “Y/N, I really am…” He sighed watching you shake your head with a humorous laugh, lip tucked between your teeth and tears brimming on your waterline.

“Why would you do that?” You mumbled. George looked down to the floor, “I don’t know. I wasn’t thinking.”

“What night was it?” You faced him, staring daggers into his solemn face. His head whipped up and his face was etched with confusion. “What?” “Which night did you vote for me?” You spoke with certainty.

George’s face paled, “Y/N, that’s not what I want--” “Tell me.” You left no room for digression.

You watched him swallow and eyes trail over you, as if this confession could lose you. As if he was never going to see you again, at least in this light. His chest rose up and down a lot quicker, his heart pounding against his chest.

“The first one.” He said with regret.

Your face fell as you reflected on that night. The one in which you were almost eliminated. If it wasn’t for your insane luck and Milli’s generosity, you would have not been in this house right now, and believing George missed you; but he was the biggest game player here.

“Oh, my fucking God…” You muttered, eyes trailing away from him. You heard him sigh, “Let me explain.” “Explain what?” You interrupted him, “George, I was basically eliminated! And you didn’t fucking care, you were part of the reason!” 

You remembered his face of regret when Vik said you received the lowest voices, thinking at the time, that he was upset at your departure; but no, he realised he was at fault and had to face the consequences of his impulse actions that had led you two to this exact moment.

You covered your face with your hands as it became too overwhelming, “What happened to the ‘You leave, I leave’ bullshit, George?”

He didn’t meet your eyes. All the excuses and apologies that he had planned and were on the tip of his tongue before entering this room had fallen off his lips, reduced to immense guilt as he felt you slipping away from his grasp.

“Did I mean anything to you, George? Or were you just playing the game?” George’s eyes snapped up to see tears streaming down your face.

“No! It was never that!” He started, hands waving around as his brows upturned. “Was I an easy route to the final?” You ignored him.

“No!” George shook his head, desperation seeping in his voice. “Someone to make you feel less lonely being here?” You laughed painfully, thinking back to all your shared moments and considering if any of it was real, let alone last.

George reached for your hand, “Y/N, please…” You flinched away from his touch, “Clearly not because you were happy to get me the fuck out of here!” You thought back to your last question, disregarding any point George tried to make, he understood he messed up, but he needed to feel what you felt.

George sighed and let your statement linger in the air, silence suffocating the room for a moment. “Y/N, you are so much more than this stupid game.” He said. You looked over at him and saw the rims of his eyes were red, cheeks pale and hair messy. Any other time, you would have wrapped him up in your arms and held him close, stroking his hair and kissing his face, whispering sweet nothings; because you knew that man, but you didn’t know the one sat in front of you right now.

You tilted your head and looked at him, “Then why did you pick it over me.” You whispered.

George couldn’t respond. He couldn’t deny you because he knew you were right. His heart plummeted into his stomach as you looked tired from crying, tears staining your cheeks and hands shaking as you brushed hair away from your face, an action he once had the privilege to do, but screwed it all up. He regretted it the moment he said your name in Room 19, the words fell off his tongue as if he was speaking a different language, it didn’t feel right. But he still did it, and he couldn’t take it back.

You couldn’t bear the silence or him anymore and made a move to leave the room. Standing up slowly, you heard George one more time, “I’m so sorry.”

You glanced at him, “I don’t care.” And you left the room, leaving your heart behind you and your rational head questioning if there was any point being in here now; the game had played you, and you didn’t know if you wanted to play it anymore.

bonus! (bc i'm so sorry for doing that to them)

@wherethezoes-at @sidemenslver @multifanxtvshows @bibissparkles @le-le-lea @tiamonetsworld @dopeysunflowers @viagracex @rebeccaw05-blog @sundarksposts @sabbrriiinnaa @lovingaphroditesworld @evisceratedmuke @youtubewag @happyclifford @liz140569 @addiemb8332 @isabellem2909 @madforgeorge @pookietv @georgeclarkeyscakeyass @marijas-stuff @maggie-readss @bambidollstar @lottiewills @lmaowhathaha @sukimoves @randomstufflol29 @isabelle-2934 @sophiexxclarkey @levidazai @smogballsstuff @loveheart-123 @alysbaby @octopusoptimusprime @mylillstuff @landoslvr @essieswurld @swaggerjagger2014 @isla-finke-blog @amyissocool @k0ul1ss @musicforsnoopy @bowielovesyou @fly-me-away @7leb-kakaw @je33123 @theresglittleronthefloor @geliophobias @w2sfever @grantgustluv @yourfavartistsfavartist12

[twohearts-hs]

Dove & Captain: 4 - Dr. Jack Abbot x Reader Series

Words in Total: 9.8k

Pairings: Dr. Jack Abbot x fem!reader

Synopsis: She's his Dove. The ER nurse who is the definition of chaos, trauma and humour in scrubs. He's her Captain, gruff, emotionally guarded war veteran with a prosthetic leg and completely in love with her. Six years together, a mortgage, four dogs and the ability to conquer anything. This is a story of their life in one day. He is 49, she's 30. This is one day of their life based on the 15 episodes of 'The Pitt'. There will be little imagines of their relationship over the years.

Warnings: Swearing, Age Gap, Trauma, Medical Language/Procedure, Pregnancy, Miscarriage, etc.

A/N: This is a complete series of ~60k. I will post a few snapshots of their relationship over the six+ years they've been together.

Hope you enjoy :)

Series Masterlist

-

1200

Y/N finally looked at her phone again. It was little past twelve and she had a moment to breathe. Opening her phone, she saw a few messages. One from Jack around a few minutes ago: “Jesus, dove, woke up to this novel of a text. Sounds good about dinner. I’ll grab ingredients soon. Dogs are good. Going to walk them in a bit. About Dolly, send me a link, but can’t promise anything. We have four already…  Just be smug to Robby back and put him in his place. Beckett can crash, but can we talk before he comes? Just need to debrief with you. Let Beckett know that the guest bed is made, but if he leaves his socks in the kitchen again, I’m going to make him clean the bathroom. Talk soon.”

            She nodded, reading it before going to the next message that was from Beckett. “Fire. Talked to Mom a few days ago. She met a lad at the legion and now thinks she has found her soulmate. Let’s see how long this one lasts…”

            Y/n chuckled, nodding before closing her phone. Robby gathered everyone and debriefed with them all about charting. It was a standard lecture about how to improve patient satisfaction scores, to get the hospital more money and to be through with diagnosing.

            Y/N finally got the tests results back for Nick Riley, glancing over them, she sighed. The kid did OD over fentanyl. Basically the same age as Beckett.

            “Robby,” Y/N said, getting up and walking over to him. She was wearing a cardigan now, a hot pink one, due to her being cold. “Nick Riley’s cerebral perfusion study is back,” she told him, handing him the tablet.

            She watched him take a deep breath as he glanced over the tablet to see the results. A loud sigh came before subtle nods. “No blood flow past the brain stem. Ok,” he muttered, looking over at her. “How are you holding up?” he asked, sending her a silent nudge.

            Y/N stared at him for a moment before nodding. “Fine. Grand. Good,” she muttered and shook her head lightly. “A lot of death today.”

            He nodded. “Yeah, I know. Jack had a rough night as well,” he explained.

            Y/N nodded. “Must be a full moon,” she mumbled. “Or a retrograde.” He just stared at her for a moment before chuckling. “How are you holding up, Chief?” she asked. “You don’t usually work this day. I’ve been caught up with my shit and didn’t think about you. Just checking in.”

            He stared at her for a moment, debating whether to talk, but thought not to. “Just another day in paradise,” he responded. “I’m fine,” he added as she stared at him for a moment with a raised brow. “You sound like Dana.”

            “We are cut from the same cloth,” Y/N replied, sending a smirk. “What do you want me to do with Nick?” she asked, going back to work.

            “Let me know when the transplant people from CORE arrive,” he said to her.

            “Yeah, totally,” she replied before turning away and leaving to check on her patients.

            Y/N was so close to winning the bet, but Collin’s got her by one factor. She had crash and the catch wrong, which Collin’s got right. Robby made fun of her for a bit, saying she did her calculations wrong, but Y/N shoved it off. She muttered something like, “Better at counting cards than making bets. There’s a mathematical equation to it which you can never get wrong when you do it correctly.”

            Dana and Robby just stared at her as if she had two heads.

            The ER was in its usual state of chaos, monitors beeping, sneakers squeaking, call lights flashing, trauma bay doors opening and swinging. It was just another day. Busy, hectic and chaotic.

            Y/N was standing leaning against the counter lightly as she wrote something on the computer. Her reading glasses on her nose as she ran a hand down her face. She was focused, humming lowly under her breath some song that Jack showed her a few days ago. He was about educating her on real music, whatever that meant.

            Robby approached her. “How many cups of coffee have you had?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

            “I don’t know. Maybe four,” she muttered, not thinking. “Did you get me one? I would love you forever. I didn’t sleep last night.”

            He stared at her, but she was focused on the computer.

            “You know, you’re only supposed to have two cups of coffee a day max while pregnant,” he whispered, leaning into her. Y/N slowly glanced up to him, face falling.

            “Fuck,” she whispered.

            “How far along are you?” he asked, raising a brow.

            “Seven weeks,” she whispered back. “Oh my God,” she whispered again, “the fetal heart rate is going to be increasing, and it could impair oxygenation. It can also increase a miscarriage.” She was whispering more to herself. She glanced down at the floor, trying to calm herself. “Oh my fucking God,” she whispered, voice filled with worry.

            Robby instantly softened. He stepped closer, placing a hand on her arm, squeezing it lightly, voice gentle but steady. “Hey, hey, breathe, Ace.”

            She nodded, but her hand was already on her stomach like could somehow undo the caffeine with her palms. “I wasn’t thinking. I didn’t even – fuck, Robby, what if I messed something up?” Her voice cracked on the last word, quiet but filled with a rising panic she didn’t often allow anyone to see.

            “You didn’t,” he said firmly. “Y/N, just stop, ok? Deep breaths. It’s not like you shot espresso into your veins through an IV. Four cups ins’t great, but its not catastrophic.”

            She bit down her lip, looking at him through wide, glassy eyes. “I know better, though. I fucking know better.”

            He nodded. “Yeah, you do. But you also haven’t slept. You’ve been working all week and you’ve been carrying this secret around, trying to function like nothing has changed. You’re stressed. That doesn’t make you a bad mom. It makes you human.”

            Her eyes dropped again, and she gave him a small nod. “Thanks, Robby,” she hummed.

            “Where’s that giant water bottle you carry around? The pink one? Let me fill it with water and electrolytes, vitamins and all that jazz. Get you hydrated,” he said with a smile, patting her on the back.

            “It’s at my station,” she replied. “Thanks.”

            He nodded. “Anytime. But before I do that, I do need your advice on something,” he told her, looking at her.

            Y/N nodded. “Yeah, shoot.”

            “It’s really weird and I don’t know what the hell to do with it. I don’t know if you’ve seen something like this or read about it…”

            She slowly nodded, pressing save on the chart she was working on and turning her full attention to him. “Talk to me.”

            “There’s a woman who came in this morning. Nausea, vomiting, lightheaded, fatigue, that sort of thing. Vitals were fine. Blood work clean. Nothing to show what was happening. With a few questions, she finally admitted that she had taken an induced vomiting drug. Made herself sick to get here.”

            Y/N raised a brow. “Factitious Disorder?” she asked, tilting her head to the side.

            He shook his head. “Thought that, but no. She wants help. Told me her son is planning on killing some schoolgirls.”

            Y/N’s face doesn’t change, instead she just stared at him. “Repeat that?”

            Robby leaned forward, voice low. “She said her teenage son has a list of girls he wants to kill. A hit list. She found it. Doesn’t know who to tell. Doesn’t know what to do. I don’t know if I should get the police involved – McKay said I should. Dad died due to COVID. Kid ran off when I questioned.”

            Y/N exhaled. “Holy shit, ok.”

            “Yeah,” Robby nodded. “I’ve never had anything like this in the decades of medicine I’ve been practising. I mean, what do I even do? I’m not psych. This isn’t my wheelhouse.”

            Y/N doesn’t hesitate. “First, you need to document everything. Everything. Everything he mentioned, every action he did. Anything. Everything mom says and does as well. Trauma can cause idealisations like this. Or other mental health disorders. Mom brought him here, which means there’s an element of seeking help rather than hiding it. That’s important.”

            Robby nods slowly, absorbing.

            “Second,” Y/N continues, her tone soft but confident, “you are talking to her like she’s in a crisis. This is not a crisis right now. Do not make her more worried than she is right now. This is terrifying for her. You need to build therapeutic rapport.”

            Robby furrowed his brows. “I’m not a therapist, Y/N.”

            She shrugged. “Well, sometimes you need to be. Therapeutic rapport is building a bond, trust between you and the patient. No judgment. Be empathic, validate her feelings, make her feel safe. Hear the whole story. Moms know their kids. I know you’re good at rapport. I’ve seen it.”

            He nodded.

            “Ask her how she’s coping. Ask if there’s anyone helping her – therapists, counsellors, psychologists, even family. A support system needs to be created. She’s not crazy, she’s worried. She’s a mother whose son might be a danger to others, she’s scared shitless.”

            He nodded. “What about the son?”

            Y/N shrugged. “He’s a minor, right?” Robby nodded. “It’s not a ‘tell the school’ issue. You need to report this. Don’t call the police. Police don’t know how to deal with cases like this without making it seem criminal. Get psych involved, even social work. I can help do. But right now, your job is the mom. Talk to her. Sit down. Be human. It’s not about diagnosing, it’s about understanding the pain that this kid is going through and how you can support the family. If that makes sense. It’s not black or white, Robby. Tough with situations like this.”

            Robby looked at her for a beat, then chuckled softly. “You can be terrifying when you’re calm like this.”

            She hummed. “Did my time in mental health, remember? Three years of working in the psych ward as a mental health worker. I’ve sat on too many cold tile floors with kids who thought no one would ever understand them. You don’t forget that. Being a teenager is hard, especially in this day of age.” Y/N squeezed his arm. “I have a teenager brother. It’s hard for them.”

            Robby nodded. “Thanks. I mean it.”

            Y/N bumped her shoulder with his. “You got this, Cowboy. Just be kind. Active listening. That’s all people ever really need.” He sent her a smile. “Want me to come? Jump in if needed?”

            He thought for a moment, then shook his head. “No, too many bodies. She might freak out.”

            Y/N nodded. “Absolutely valid. Go be a therapist for a second. Might even boost your patient satisfaction scores,” she hummed, smiling.

            Robby chuckled, shaking his head and walking away.

-

Dana came up to Y/N a little while later. “Have you eaten, sweetheart?” she asked, leaning to look at her.

            Y/N shook her head. “Not since this morning when Jack shoved a sandwich down my throat and then I puked it up,” she replied, humming.

            “Come on, Mama,” she hummed, hooking her arm with the nurse and pulling her to the break room.

            Once they got there, there were several bags filled with sandwiches. Instantly, Y/N then felt her hunger, sitting down and going through the bags.

            “Ugh,” McKay groaned, “the things I would do for pastrami.”

            Y/N smirked, going through the boxes to find something she could eat. It was recommended not to eat cold cuts when pregnant, so she was searching for something.

            “Is there a turkey and cheese?” Princess asked, glancing over.

            “Uh, yeah,” Y/N replied, handing her a box.

            The door opened, and Robby came in. “Oh, what is all this?” he asked.

            “Lunch. Primanti’s. It appears that we have at least one grateful patient,” Dana replied, looking over her shoulder to see Robby.

            Robby smirked. “Hope is alive. Who do we have to thank?” he asked.

            “I don’t know. I think there’s a card at the bottom of the bag,” Dana said.

            Robby found it, reading it over, however he placed it down, face fallen. “Enjoy your lunch,” he responded, then looked over at Y/N. “But you…eat,” he lectured, pointing at the young nurse.

            “I am!” she hollered back, mouth full of food.

            “Good.” Then he left the room.

            Y/N noticed the wicked change of behaviour from the old man within seconds. Brows furrowed; she grabbed the card.

            “What was that?” Whitaker asked.

            “Don’t know,” Dana replied.

            Y/N sighed. “It’s from Shelby Adamson, Dr. Adamson’s sister,” Y/N replied, handing the card to Dana.

            “She sends something every year,” Dana muttered, sighing.

            “He doesn’t like her?” Whitaker asked.

            Y/N shook her head. “No, it’s about that. It’s about him,” she whispered, biting into her sandwich again.

            “Dr. Adamson was Robby’s mentor and he…he died during COVID, so,” Dana replied, another deep sigh came from her.

-

1300

Y/N got called for a potential drug-induced patient or even psych. Nandi, an influencer who was erratic. Y/N stood next to Robby, arms crossed, as Donnie administered some drugs and Santos and Mohan tried to get the patient’s history.

            “Javadi, Whitaker, see if you can do the exam,” Robby said, looking over to the med students.

            They nodded. Javadi took out her pen light. “Can you look at the light?” she asked as Whitaker took vitals.

            Instantly, the patient flinched, hiding herself away from the light. “No. What was that?” she expressed.

            “Ok. Open your mouth?” Javadi tried.

            The patient was curled up, scared and filled with fear. Y/N continued to watch the behaviour, glancing over to Robby, who gave her a look.

            “No. It’s not real. Where am I?” the patient continued to express, voice filled with fear.

            “How do you even do an exam with a patient like this?” Whitaker asked.

            Nandi continued to be paranoid.

            “Observe her. Wait for her to look at you or open her mouth, and get a quick look. Make sure she moved her arms and legs equally,” Mohan explained to the med students.

            Donnie tried to get the patient hooked up to the monitor, but she was fighting.

            “Alright, we might need to wait until after the meds kick in,” Robby explained, arms still crossed as he looked at the patient. Then he called everyone out of the room. Y/N followed suit.

            Once out of the room, Y/N stood in front of Robby, glancing back as she tried to think of what could possibly have happened. However, Robby let out a sigh.

            “Ok, differential diagnosis?” he asked.

            “Schizophrenia, first psychotic break. She’s in the right age range,” Javadi suggested.

            Y/n slowly nodded. Robby too. “Yeah, what else?” he said.

            “Drugs, also common in this age group,” Whitaker explained.

            “Common in any age group,” Y/N replied.

            “Exactly,” Robby said. “What else?”

            “Not just recreational drugs. It could also be toxicity to medications,” Javadi tried.

            Y/N nodded again, thinking that could be a possibility as well.

            “Don’t just jump to conclusions,” Mohan reminded. “Think big categories and then specifics.”

            “Metabolic, hyper- or hyponatremia, calcium, hepatic encephalopathy,” Whitaker brainstormed.

            “Endocrine, hyperthyroid, infectious encephalitis,” Javadi added.

            “These are all possibilities,” Robby muttered, looking down at the floor for a second. “Ok, let’s work her up medically and see if we can clear her.” Then he glanced at the patient through the window.

            “Chem panel, CBC, TSH and T4, drug screen, and hCG,” Mohan muttered, saying the tests they need to do.

            “Yep. Keep me posted. If it’s all negative, then admit her to psych,” Robby ordered, nodding at the team before walking off.

            Y/N nodded, turning back to the patient to help stabilise her so they could get the tests done.

-

Y/N watched Robby’s behaviour for an hour. The way he was snappier, grumpier and a little bit too harsh with his tone. She figured it could be because he was hangry or perhaps due to the fact that it was Adamson’s death day. However, she needed to talk to him. She needed him to talk to her and for her to express that he can’t talk the way he does to his team.

            When she spotted him exiting the bathroom, she made her way, stopping in front of him. He stared at her for a moment, raising a brow.

            “You, me, talk, now,” she barked, pointing to the hallway.

            “Y/N,” he tried, voice low and warning.

            She shook her head. “Nope. You’re talking to me,” she explained, grabbing his arm and pulling him.

            “I’m a busy man, Y/N. I don’t have time–“

            “Don’t care. You need a moment to decompress. To breathe. So, we will go to the corner and hash it out,” she barked back, stopping in a spot where no one could see them. “You’re being harsh to the kids. A little bit too blunt, which isn’t like you, Robby–“

            He stared at her for a moment before glancing away, rocking back and forth on his feet. “I’m fine. I’m fine,” he said, trying to convince her.

            She shook her head. “You’re off today. I’m not the only one who sees it.”

            He scoffed.

            “You’re snapping. Chewing the kids out like they stole your car. Something’s going on, so tell me,” Y/N explained, nudging him. “Just between us.”

            He glanced at her, eyes dark with something she couldn’t quite place – exhaustion, maybe. Pain. Or both. His jaw clenched.

            “Jesus, Y/N,” he muttered. “Not everything needs to be dissected with your psych degree and nurse intuition. Maybe I’m just in a bad fucking mood.”

            She narrowed her eyes. “You don’t snap at people because of a bad mood. That’s not who you are. Also, you need to be professional, Robby. If it is a bad mood, stop impacting other people. We need to work as a team.”

            Robby looked away again, like he was trying to swallow something that didn’t want to go down. “You ever think that maybe I’m just a ride for people expecting me to hold it together?” he muttered.

            Y/N softened when he muttered that. “Then talk it out. Say it. Don’t lash out at them. You’re their attending, Robby, their mentor. The chief of the ER. They look up to you.”

            He let out a humourless laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah, well, today they’re looking up to a man who’s–“ He sighed.

            She stared at him, crossing her arms over her chest. “You’re one of the only people I’ve ever trusted to go into hell with and come out on the other side. But not like this. Not when you’re burning people with you.” He blinked. Once. Twice. “It’s ok to not be ok.”

            Then his tone dropped, almost broken as he glanced down.

            “It’s Adamson’s anniversary.”

            She nodded slowly. “I figured.”

            “And then all the fucking deaths, chaos. It’s just–“

            “It’s a day, Robby. Too much in one day,” she replied, sending him a small smile.

 He nodded, breathing harder now. “I just. Everyone expects us to fix things and sometimes I don’t know how to fix things.”

Y/N nodded. “You’re not supposed to fix everything, Robby,” she said gently. “But it’s ok to not be ok. We are doing our best. All of us.” Robby stared at her. “We aren’t superheroes. We aren’t God or whatever people believe in. We are just ER cowboys trying to win the rodeo,” she replied.

            There was a long pause, and Robby looked like he might finally crack. His mouth opened but then Y/N’s face shifted.

            Instantly, she grasped the wall as she clasped her stomach, holding it. Wincing, as she held her breath.

            Robby watched her, eyes widening. “Y/N?” he asked, instantly, alarm.

            Her brows furrowed as she continued to feel the intense cramps. “Fuck,” she whispered before shaking her head. “No, no, no, you do not get to do this.” Y/N bent over, both hands covering her stomach now.        

            Robby stepped closer, his voice soft but urgent. “Talk to me. What’s happening?”

            Y/N glanced up at him, colour draining from her face. He said her name again, hand coming out to hold her, but instantly, she pushed past him. Robby turned, seeing her beginning to try her best with walking away.

            “Y/N,” he tried, walking after her.

            “I’m fine, go back to work,” she whispered, breathy.

            He scoffed. “No, no. You’re not fine,” he said, trying to reach for her, but she pulled away.

            She turned to him. “Fuck off and leave me alone,” she barked. “Do not follow me.”

            Then she disappeared down the hall, leaving Robby standing here, pulse pounding in his ears.

            He knew it. He knew exactly what was happening. And this time, he couldn’t fix it either.

-

1400

Y/N pushed the bathroom door open. She knew what was happening, biting down on her bottom lip, she closed the bathroom door, locking it. Sitting down on the toilet, she pulled her pants down and glanced at her underwear.

            Instantly, her stomach turned. Instantly, a sob came from her. Instantly, she closed her eyes and lost it.

            Blood. So much blood.

            She was miscarrying.

            Sitting there, she let it happen. She let everything happen. Y/N closed her eyes, sitting there on the toilet. Her pants were down, her hands were on her knees, and the tears just came. Y/N knew it was going to happen. It happened before. The chance of her getting pregnant was slim, but the chance of her carrying to term was even slimmer.

            There was a piece of her that was hopeful. Bleeding can happen in pregnancy, and she was still in her first trimester, but as she opened her eyes again and looked at her underwear, she shook her head.

            This was not light bleeding. Not even close. This was truly a miscarriage.

            Y/N let the tears happen for minutes. She knew Robby would find her if she got spotted, but she couldn’t think about this right now.

            She just had to let herself grieve in solitude.

            Twenty-four hours. She had knowledge that she was pregnant for twenty-four hours. She found out around two o’clock the day prior and now it was just a little past two, and she was not pregnant anymore.

            Y/N took deep breaths. Allowing herself to calm herself down. Cleaning her underwear and grabbing a sanitary pad from the bathroom, she fixed herself up at the mirror. She had to go on. Few more hours. Few more hours and she could go home.

            Y/N knew Beckett wanted to come over today, but she couldn’t let him anymore. She needed to be alone. Tomorrow was her day off. She could wallow in her own pity or pretend it never happened.

            Then it hit her.

            Jack. Her sweet, old man, Jack. He had no idea. Not a single clue what was going on.

            There was no pregnancy anymore. There was no exciting news. There was no baby. There was no way she was going to tell him now.

            He didn’t know about the last miscarriage. They weren’t together at the time. She had her last one at twenty-two. Eight years ago. A different partner at the time. A whole other world.

            Y/N grasped the sink for a moment, wiping her tears before looking back up. She smiled, showed her teeth and then took a deep breath.

            She needed to confirm the miscarriage. She needed proof.

            Opening the door to the bathroom, she kept her head down, walking past everyone and making her way to the ultrasound machine that was standing by the nurses’ station. She grabbed it, wheeling it to Central 16. However, Robby watched her. Robby watched her with Dana next to him as Y/N tried to hide this from everyone.

            Instantly, he pushed off the leaning post against the station and followed suit.

            Y/N was in the trauma room, turning the ultrasound on while grabbing the gel, when the door opened.

            “Lie down,” Robby whispered. “Let me,” he said.

            Y/N turned her head, tear tear-stained face and reddened eyes. However, no more tears were thre. She froze for a second, gripping the ultrasound probe too tightly, knuckles white. The room was quiet, too quiet. The kind of silence that made everything echo, even your own breath.

            Y/N stared at him, no words, just shook her head in a silent ‘no’. Robby stepped forward gently, hands raised as if he was approaching a wounded animal.

            “Please, Ace,” he said softly. “Let me help.”

            She blinked slowly; tears welled again but didn’t fall. Her voice was nearly gone. “I know how to use an ultrasound machine, Robby,” she responded.

            “I know you can,” Robby replied. “But you shouldn’t have to do this. Not alone.”

            Y/N’s lips trembled. Her fingers loosened around the probe before she let it drop onto the tray beside the machine. She didn’t say anything – just walked slowly over to the medical bed and laid back, legs still tense, arms folded across her chest.

            Robby moved with care, grabbing a pair of gloves and setting up the ultrasound. He didn’t speak as he pulled, he pivacy curtain across the window and door. The room filled with a quiet hum of the machine warming up.

            “This is just to check, ok?” he said. His voice was steady and careful. “I’m going to use a little pressure.”

            She nodded without looking at him. Her jaw was clenched so tightly it hurt. Mind racing as she took deep breaths. Tucking her shirt up, she exposed her stomach to him.

            Robby squirted the gel onto her lower abdomen and gently moved the probe into place. Y/N turned to look at the screen. Both of them did.

            Nothing.

            He tilted the wand slightly, adjusted angles.

            Still nothing.

            No heartbeat. No flicker. It was there yesterday, but today it was gone.

            The silence was deafening.    

            Robby’s voice dropped to a whisper. “I’m so sorry, Y/N…”

            “Try transvaginally,” she whispered, staring at the screen. “It would be hard to see it as I’m so early. It’s more accurate.”

            Robby stared at her for a moment, watching as she broke her eye contact from the screen to look at the man, she was so close with. When their eye’s met the hope that was in Y/N’s eyes, the sparkle, was long gone since this morning. She knew the answer, but she was science-based and needed to know.

            “Ok,” he muttered, pulling the probe away.

            “Get me something to drape myself,” she muttered, and Robby nodded, handing her a sheet from a cart in the corner.

            Robby turned his back to her and Y/N pulled her pants down, underwear and all, before draping the sheet over her.

            “I’m bleeding,” she whispered, warning him. “Vaginally,” she muttered added. “Because I’m–“

            He nodded. “I know. It’s ok, Ace. I’ve got you.”

            He didn’t look at her body. He didn’t even glance. He just handed her the internal probe and told her she needed to insert it herself. Y/N sat on the gurney, knees up, legs spread as she inserted it.

            “It’s in, Robby,” she whispered.

            He nodded, finding the probe under the drape, his arm steadying on her knee, a comfort message as he looked back at the screen.

            Still nothing.

            Just the hollow blackness of an empty gestational sac. No flicker. No movement. The image that meant life twenty-four hours ago was now confirmation of loss.

            Y/N closed her eyes, breathing deeply through her nose. She didn’t cry. She didn’t even flinch. It was like her soul had gone quiet. Numb.

            Robby slowly removed the probe and stepped back, carefully covering her again. He went to open his mouth to explain the next steps when it comes to having a miscarriage, but Y/N stopped him.

            “Not my first rodeo, Cowboy,” she muttered with a hint of a joke, pulling her pants back up. “This is my third,” she casually said.

            Robby stared at her. Hearing such a secret, the vulnerability of her words. “Have you and Jack gone through this before?” he asked. “Were you trying?”

            She scoffed, shaking her head. “No and no. I was twenty-two last time. Then nineteen the first time,” she responded. Y/N was moving to sit on the edge of the medical bed, looking at Robby, who was staring at her like she was broken. “Don’t look at me like that.”

            “Like what?” he whispered, brows furrowed.

            “With pity,” she said. Then she took a deep breath. “Don’t tell Jack. Don’t ever tell Jack. Don’t ever bring it up to Jack. Jack will never know. Never ever know. This is my story. Not our story,” she said, words very deliberate and soft.

            Robby’s brows furrowed, jaw tightening. “Y/N–“

            “I’m fucking serious, Robby,” she snapped, eyes finally locking on this. “He’ll never know. You hear me? This is going with me to the grave.”

            “He loves you, Ace. So much,” Robby said quietly, eyes soft but firm. “He deserves to know. He would want to know. I would want to know if we were together,” he said.

            “But we aren’t,” she casually shrugged before glancing up at the ceiling. “Jack has had a hell of a life. So much loss. He doesn’t need this on top of it. He thought I couldn’t get pregnant. He made his peace with it. I don’t need to disrupt that.”

            Robby crossed his arms over his chest. “It’s not good going through this alone,” he muttered.

            She shook her head. “Well, sometimes there are things you do have to conquer alone,” she responded, jumping off the bed and looking at the chief of the ER. “Patient-Doctor confidentiality, Robby. I was your patient,” she said. “Don’t tell Jack.”

            Robby swallowed, nodding. “Go home, Y/N,” he said, a little too sternly, a little too roughly. “Go home. We’ll cover you.”

            She stared at him, crossing her arms. “I’m not dying, Robby. I’m miscarrying, I’m fine–“

            “You’re emotional,” he whispered.

            Her head snapped to him. “Oh, fuck you, Robby,” she barked, shaking her head and walking to the door. “Burn the scan. Delete the images. This never happened,” she said. “Thank you, though, for being here for this minute.”

            Robby didn’t say anything as she opened the trauma room door. He just watched her walk away with fire in her step and devastation in her eyes.

            The minute the door clicked shut behind her, he ran a hand through his hair, then face through his beard and exhaled hard. This was the part of the job that hurt the most. Not the trauma, not the chaos. It was watching someone you love – really love – bleed silently and refuse to help.

            And Jack?

            Jack would lose his fucking mind if he knew what just happened in this room.

            Y/N went to the nurse’s station, sitting down and opening up the computer. Dana knew what was up. Robby mentioned Y/N tumbled in pain, and then she wheeled the ultrasound machine into the trauma room. She stayed silent for a moment, debating what to do with the young nurse who was pretending nothing happened.

            She walked over, pulling a seat next to Y/N.

            “Talk to me,” Dana whispered.

            “Rather not,” she replied, eyes focused on the screen. “But thank you for being like a mom to me,” she whispered. “Thank you for the support.”

            “Always, sweetheart,” Dana hummed back, touching her shoulder, squeezing it. “But I’m here.”

            Y/N nodded, halting her type before looking at Dana. “I’m going to give the same speech to you as I did to Robby. This is between us. Jack will never know. You hear me never know. Ever. It’s my story and I chose who gets to know,” she said quietly, voice sharp.

            Dana nodded staring at her for a moment. “Of course.” Then Dana moved away from Y/N, knowing that hovering wasn’t going to benefit her at all.

-

            Y/N instantly was on her feet when a child rolled in on a gurney. Paramedics announced she was a drowning victim. Y/N instantly grabbed gloves and hurried over.        

            “Amber Philips, six years old. Found at the bottom of a home pool with an unknown downtime. Asystole on the monitor,” the paramedics called out as Y/N hurried alongside them.

            “Intubated with a cuffed 4.5, 22-gauge left AC, 0.25 epi three minutes ago,” another called out.

            Y/N grasped the underlying sheet, as someone counted down before they moved the child from the gurney to the medical bed. Instantly, she was back to herself, grabbing supplies and working around the doctors.

            “Whitaker, take over compressions,” Robby called out before looking up. “Any family coming in?”

            “Grandma and little sister,” a paramedic called out.

            “Fast and deep,” Collin’s stated.

            Whitaker began doing compressions as Mel stepped in with her stethoscope. “She’s really cold.”

            Y/N heard that, knowing what that meant and nodded, already going to work before Robby could say anything.

            “Ace, get a core temp,” he called out.

            “On it already,” she replied.

            “Good breath sounds bilaterally,” Mel called out.

            “Should we use the Lucas?” Whitaker asked.

            “No, she’s way too small for that,” Collin’s replied.

            Y/N was grabbing her temperature, brows furrowed. “Rectal temp only 85.” Y/N shook her head. “Kid’s got moderate hypothermia,” she stated. Robby glanced at Y/N who was deep into her work.

            “Yeah,” he stated, nodding. “We need to get her up to 90 if we have any chance of restarting her heart.”

            They all nodded.

            “250 ccs heated saline. Set up the Arctic Sun. Continuous core temp monitoring, and prep another epi 0.25,” Collins called out, and Y/N instantly went to work grabbing the supplies and things needed.

            Robby just stood there, looking at Y/N. “Robby, if you keep staring, I will throttle you,” Y/N muttered, walking around him.

            He then nodded, out of his daze. “Yup,” he muttered, looking back at the patient.

            They continued to work on the patient, trying their best to bring her back. Y/N tried not to think that there was a little girl on the table, someone’s daughter.

            Grandma came in, sitting next to Amber.

            “She wasn’t breathing, so the medics put a tube in her throat,” Robby whispered to the grandmother.

            “She’s so cold,” Frances, the grandmother, called out, scared.

            “We’re warming her up. That way, she’ll have a better chance to respond to the medicines,” Robby explained, looking back at Y/N who refused to look him in the eye.

            “They moved a bench next to the pool fence so they could go over, because their soccer ball went in the water. Amber couldn’t make it out of the deep end. The gate was locked. I was vacuuming. I didn’t hear them,” Frances muttered, holding onto her granddaughter as she sniffed and sighed.

            Y/N’s heart broke hearing that, but she couldn’t think of that right now. She had a job to do.

            The parents came in soon after. Y/N watched them as the mother came to hold her daughter. Y/N swallowed.

            “Rhythm check. Hold compressions,” Collins called out.

            Whitaker took a step back. But the machine was flat lining.

            “Asystole. Resume compressions,” Collins ordered.

            Whitaker went back to CPR while Y/N held the breathing bag.

            “Three minutes since the last epi,” Y/N said.

            “Push another,” Collins replied.

            “Did you shock the heart?” the mother asked, glancing up.

            “Uh, no,” Robby replied, calmly, lowly.

            “Why…why didn’t you shock the heart?” the mother asked, words desperate and confused. “We’ve got to save her. You’ve got to shock the heart.”

            “Heart rhythm right now is flatlining. That’s not treatable with a shock. We’re trying to get the rhythm to change to something we can shock by warming her up,” Robby replied, voice quite and low.

            “Ok. So, we’ve got to warm up. You’ve got to get some more blankets in here or something,” the mother rambled.

            “We are giving her warm IV fluids, and you can feel these blue pads. They have warm water running through them like a hot tub,” Robby muttered.

            “Are you sure you’re doing everything?” the mother asked, quietly.

            “Yes, we are,” Robby confirmed.

            Robby’s eyes went back to Y/N, who glanced up to see him. He was just staring her, and Y/N took a deep breath and dodged his eyes.

            They continued longer trying to bring back this little girl. Y/N didn’t try to think of the situation but rather the job that needed to be done. Whitaker continued to do chest compressions, warm saline went through her veins and Y/N helped with getting oxygen into her.

            “Core temp is 88,” she spoke up. Slowly it was climbing.

            “Is that good?” the dad spoke up, looking around the room.

            “It’s up from 85 on her arrival, so we’re headed in the right direction,” Collins spoke up.

            Robby was hovering, arms crossed as he walked around the room. His eyes were on the little girl, then Collins, before jumping back to Y/N, who remained emotionless.

            “You hear that, Amber?” the mother spoke. “It’s better,” she said between breaths as she ran her hand through her daughter’s hair. “You’re getting better.”

            “I need to step out for a second. You’re in good hands,” Robby whispered, looking at the parents. “Come find me when it’s over 90,” he whispered to Collins before leaving the room.

            Eventually the core temperature got to 91. Robby was back in the room, glancing at monitors. Mateo was on the bag down helping her breathe while Y/N stood with her arms crossed.

            “Can you shock the heart now?” the dad asked.

            “91 is warm enough for her heart to respond,” Robby muttered, still looking at the monitors.

            “Hold compressions,” Collins addressed. Whitaker stopped and the machine flatlines. Y/N walked to the phone to hear the results of the labs.

            “Asystole,” Mel whispered.

            “Resuming compressions.”

            Listening to it, her face fell, nodding. She hung up, placing the phone back on the wall before turning to the crowd. She took a breath. “Potassium levels are back,” she said.

            Robby looked at her, raising a brow.

            “12.2,” she breathed, knowing what it meant. Her eyes looked over the crowd as Robby walked over, bending down next to the family.

            Y/N’s heart broke, looking over to the girl on the table. Seeing her small frame, her lifeless, small frame and sighed. Another death. Another death on this day.

            “No one has ever survived a cardiac arrest with a potassium over 11. There is absolutely no chance of recovery,” Robby said, voice low, calm and soft. He took a breath. “I am so sorry. Amber has died.”

            Y/N instantly glanced down, biting down on her bottom lip.

            “Before we stop, do you think her sister would like a chance to say goodbye?”

            “No,” the dad responded, shaking his head. “Uh, Bella shouldn’t see her like this.”

            “Ok,” Robby replied, sending a solid nod. “You can stay in here for as long as you like. We are going to stop now,” he told them.

            The mother was hysterical. Y/N couldn’t blame her. She just lost a child. Her child. A daughter who barely lived. So small, so young. Y/N lost a child today, and it might not have been the same as the mother, but it was still a child.

            Robby met Y/N’s eyes, and he saw her expression. His head nodded to the door and she nodded back, quietly excusing herself from the room.

            Y/N walked right outside the trauma ward into the ambulance bay. The sun was shining, the wind was soft, and it was just a beautiful day. A beautiful September day, but it was such a fucking shitty day. She leaned against the wall, taking a deep breath and staring in front of her.

            “Fuck, I want a cigarette,” she muttered. “Just one fucking cigarette.”

            However, she could hear Jack’s words in her brain scolding her for pumping poison into her lungs. His words would be so simple “Dove, rather you talk to me than take your stress out through inhaling toxins.”

            If that was so fucking simple. If everything was so fucking simple.

            She had no idea how long she had been there for, but she saw Nick Bradley’s body being wheeled out on a gurney to the ambulance bay to be transported for organ donation. She missed the memory walk. However, Y/N didn’t move. She stayed put, glancing ahead.

            Dana, Collins and Robby came out to see the ambulance leave. Y/N stayed put, not saying a word, not even looking at them. Instead, just stared ahead. Her arms were crossed, then she glanced down at her shoes, seeing the stains from the job. Her cardigan was gone. Just the long-sleeved cheetah print she had under the lighter scrubs. Y/N pulled the band from her hair, letting it fall over her shoulder. Long, thick locks that cascaded in perfect waves.

            Robby spotted her by the doors, about three metres from them. Her back against the wall, just staring. He debated whether or not to walk over. Would she be down to talk? Would she even want to talk?

            He lingered, hands on his hips, watching her, hus head straight then a slight tilt he did whenever he was thinking too hard. Collins and Dana exchanged a glance, one that said, “leave it to Robby” before heading back in through the double doors, the hush of grief following them.

            Robby waited a beat longer. Then walked over.

            He didn’t say anything at first. Just stood beside her, leaning back against the same wall, crossing his arms. His shoulders brushed hers, but she didn’t move. Instead, her head came, leaning over to his shoulder.

            Her eyes remained forward, lips pressed together and jaw tight. She swallowed hard before she took a deep breath.

            Robby didn’t know what to say.

            “You missed the walk,” he said after the moment, voice low.

            “I know.”

            “He was your patient.”

            She was silent for a moment, then a small, “I know,” came. Nothing else came from her, instead, she just moved her head to get deeper into the crook of his neck.

            Robby’s hand came, grasping her hand as their hands entwined. “I’m here,” he whispered.

            She nodded. “I know.” He went to open his mouth. “Don’t tell me to go home. Please don’t. That’s the last place I want to be.”

            He said nothing, stayed quiet.

            “You’re a good man, Michael,” she whispered. “A really good man. Who deserves so much. Happiness, peace, solitude and a fair life,” she mumbled. “I’m thankful for you. I’m grateful you’re in my life.” Then she breathed. “I’ll always have love for you,” she whispered, looking down. “But this job,” she muttered and took a deep breath in, “slowly degrades you. Burns brain cells. Eats your blood count. Destroys your faith.”

            “I know,” he replied. “You’ve had a day.”

            She stayed quiet for a brief second before pulling away and looking up to his six-foot frame. “No, we are having a day. Not just me.”

            He nodded. “Yeah, pretty fucking shitty. But this is what we do.”

            Y/N nodded in silence before looking back in front of her. “I should tell Jack, right?” she whispered.

            “Yeah, you should.” She nodded, reaching for her phone but he stopped her hand. “This is something to do in person, Y/N. I would like to hear it in person. Not due to selfish needs, but because I would want to hold you while you told me. Wipe your tears. Hold your hand. Caress your hair and whisper ‘it’s going to be ok’.” Y/N met his eyes, and he saw how broken they were. “I would tell you how much I love you. I would ask what you’d want next. Then I’d run you a bath, get in with you and hold you. I’d whisper sweet nothings, delivering kisses along your skin as I rub your stomach. Then we’d go to bed, and I’d hold you all night.”

            Y/N stared at him. They said nothing for moments. Just stared at one another. Their hands were still entwined together.

            Then she took a long, deep breath. “A lot of death today,” she mumbled.

            “I agree.”

            She broke her gaze from him and looked ahead. “It’s been officially like a hundred days of me not smoking. I stress smoke. Since I was eleven, and stole them from my mother. I might light one or two, or a whole packet,” she muttered. Then she took another breath. “Jack found me last time. I’d got news that my mom was ok. She was missing from her housing facility. She was missing for two weeks. Found,” she let out a chuckle, “at our old shit box home. We lived in it till I was ten before we got evicted. She was pregnant with Beckett at the time. We moved into my Nana’s. Beckett was born not soon after,” she mumbled. He looked at her, listening but then she shook her head. “Doesn’t matter. I just want a fucking cigarette, and I can hear Jack’s brooding, grumpy old man voice in the back of my head lecturing me.” She met his eyes. “Don’t lecture me, Cowboy,” she joked with a small smile. “I bet you have vices to deal with your shit.”

            He smirked, chuckling. “Hey, we work in the ER, the ways we cope can’t be judged.” Though he winked at her, and she raised a brow. “I can’t give you a cigarette as I don’t smoke and I know Jack would throttle me if he found out. But,” he hummed, digging into his pocket, “I have a mint.”

            Y/N stared at the mint he had. The peppermint, one that brought a smile to her face. “That’s from the staff room.”

            He nodded. “Yes, it is.”

            She then sent a small smile. “Jack, before we started dating, would hand me a mint from the staff room whenever I had a bad case. He would say something like, ‘the burning would distract you’. We’d sit on the rooftop. Talk about anything. Well, he was my boss, so I didn’t know what to talk about. So, we’d talk about common things, which usually was how bad the coffee in the break room was and how I had a conspiracy that the sandwiches from the cafeteria were recycled from the university and from frozen. I was awkward with him.”

            Robby glanced at her. He had one thought – if she wasn’t on night shifts for two years and on days instead, would they have had months like this…leading to a life together.

            “I didn’t know that,” he said gently.

            “Jack’s not a talker,” she responded. “Now he is. Not a yapper, but like the type to express his wants and needs bluntly.”

            Robby chuckled. “Yeah, best mates we are,” he hummed.

            Y/N nodded. “Oh, I know. You two trade tools, talk about trucks and bond over building things from scratch.”

            Robby chuckled. “I did pressure wash your rancher home this past summer,” he mumbled. “And your Bronco.”

            Y/N chuckled. “Jack has threatened me that if I continue to keep my Bronco a mess from all my trash, shit and life, I will be sleeping in the guest room.”

            Robby chuckled, nodding. “Yeah, he’s a military man. Organisation, clean, sleek,” he muttered.

            Y/N rolled her eyes. “I’m right now banned from his truck because I spilt my Starbucks in it last week and plus left my shit in it. But it wasn’t shit. It was like a claw clip, a lipgloss, a tide pen, an old coffee mug and my panties,” she muttered, and Robby raised a brow.

“Panties?”

“We went on a walk, and I ended up swimming in my undergarments, so I took them off in the car while he gave me his shirt. I forgot to bring in my lake-soaked panties. Classic Jack is like ‘Dove, the truck isn’t a purse’ and ‘Your chaotic gremlin energy does not belong in the truck. Truck is sacred’,” she muttered with a chuckle while doing a grumpy Jack impression. “Now, when we have to go anywhere, he demands we drive my car when we have three other cars on the property, but he complains they are ‘collectors’. Then he goes on about the mess. Whatever…”

            Robby rolled his eyes in laughter. “You’re a chaotic girl,” he muttered. “And a chaotic gremlin.”

            “No, I’m spicy. Unique. Different. Keep you on your toes type of girl,” she responded. Then she smirked. “But, I’ll accept gremlin.”

            Robby nodded. “You know it was love at first sight with him,” he mumbled.

            Y/N heard him, heart fluttering for a moment before shaking her head. “No, it wasn’t. When we met, he was emotionally shut down. Still grieving his late wife. I was this chaotic thunderstorm who entered the ER at twenty-two, who questioned the way he charted and his brooding demeanour.” Then she chuckled. “The first year, it was just professional, but I also mainly worked with you Robby on days. I moved to nights because of the premium rates and then gradually, he started to challenge me, teach me new things. After one hard case, he came over and crashed on my couch. Then he started to crash every shift we had together and then he was sleeping in my bed. We were just friends. He never touched me or flirted with me. Then one day, I just kissed him. Somehow, I did it on the rooftop and then…magic. Six years later, four dogs, a mortgage on a rancher on an acre of land by the edge of a city, a Bronco he bought for me, paid off my debt, paying my brother’s university and endless camping trips where I complain about shitting in a hole and sleeping on the floor.” She took a breath. “Why me? I ask every day. Why me? Because I’m far from perfect. Childhood trauma. Addict Mother. Dad,” she breathed, “dad, who has a whole other family. A half-brother who’s my world. And so many stories I’m not proud of but had to do to survive.” Then she shook her head. “He doesn’t know it all. I keep so much because he’s Jack. Old-fashioned, but still progressive, the type who,” she looked over to Robby and whispered, “makes sure a teenage girl gets an abortion. Brooding, strict, blunt, but so kind, deliberate, gentle and patient. The type who makes two of everything when he makes a coffee, or a lunch, because he wants to ensure I’m taken care of. The one who takes care of everything, so I don’t have to worry. Lectures me on letting the dogs on the bed or spending 7$ on a coffee.” Then she let out a loud cackle. “The man who hates my mother but still supports her housing. Buys her groceries for her with me. Comes with me to check on her and didn’t get mad when I was hiding that I was sending her money from our account.”

            Robby stayed quiet, knowing she didn’t need a response.

            “I’m so incredibly happy,” she whispered. “I made my own happiness. Becoming a guardian to Beckett at nineteen, raising him when my mother couldn’t, supporting myself and him while I attended school, going to university, becoming a nurse…getting Winston. But he came, and it was just like, ‘yeah, I’m good now. Don’t need anything else’. But,” she breathed, “a baby.”

            Robby glanced over but her eyes were focused on a rock on the ground. She didn’t say anything for a few seconds. Moments. He knew she was thinking of the best way to say it. Her brain was going over every word in her brain.

            “I was a mother,” she eventually said,” I am a mother.”

            Robby’s brows furrowed.

            “I became a mother at fourteen when mom went on a bender for two weeks. Gone, came back for her shift and then fucked off forever. I had a four-year-old brother. I had no choice,” she muttered. “Fuck,” she scoffed. “How am I alive? With her as my mother. Fuck knows. But Beck is mine. He is my child. He’s my son,” she whispered. “Jack sees him as a son. He takes care of him. For me. For us. For him. But also, because he’s Jack,” she muttered as tears came.

            Then everything hit. Memories she shut out from her childhood. Moments she didn’t know ever existed. Situations she hid from herself. Tears began to come down her cheeks.

            “Jack can know about this,” she eventually muttered. “But he can’t know all of me. Of everything I’ve done to be here today to be with him because he wouldn’t understand it.”

            Robby didn’t interrupt. He let her sit in that silence, let the tears fall. One thing Y/N taught him was active listening and how beneficial it was. But it was so rare to see Y/N like this, how she talked like this. Her truth that isn’t jokes, humour, and smirks. Her world was beautiful now, he knew that. But the way she spoke broke him internally. But this wasn’t a moment for laughter, but rather her talking about a grief that suited her.

            She sniffled hard and swiped her cheeks with the sleeve under her scrub top. “He wouldn’t understand it,” she whispered again, quieter this time. “He’s ex-military…we are survivors in different ways, but I don’t understand his trauma, and he wouldn’t understand mine. But he’s good. He’s cleaner in ways I never was. Sure, he may have combat fought and saw shit. But, never had to,” she shook her head, “never mind. He’s a good man and I needed him, and I thank the universe everyday for us.”

            Robby nodded.

            “But I want a baby,” she whispered. “I realized it in the last twenty-four hours, and I can’t have a baby, Robby. But it doesn’t make sense for us to have a baby. He’s forty-nine. We are workaholics. I still love a good party. I smoke if Jack doesn’t catch me, drink like an Irishman at a pub and dance like it’s 1999,” she said as she stared ahead. “Beckett was my baby. He was my baby, and I became a mother at fourteen,” she whispered, voice cracking. “I think I just realised that.” She scoffed. “I have to be his mother because ours is a piece of fucking shit.”

            Robby swallowed thickly, chest tight, watching her unravel, not in chaos, but in clarity. A trust she hadn’t spoken aloud, maybe not even to herself.

            He pulled her closer to his side, holding her. “Yeah,” he whispered. A piece of him would want to say I would give you everything, but he knew Jack already did. “Beckett is yours. Might be a adult now–“

            “Don’t remind me,” she muttered. “He went to Jack two weeks ago for advice on oral sex.”

            Robby snickered, rolling his eyes. “You’re a good mom to him, Ace. You’ve done a good damn job.”

            Y/N looked at him, and he looked at her. “You’re a good man, Michael. In another life, I’d give you what you wanted,” she whispered, and he nodded.

            “In another life, Ace.”

            Then she scoffs. “God, I’m turning into an intern or a med student, crying in the ambulance bay,” she muttered before letting out a loud, real laugh.

            Robby smirked. “Welcome to the club. Took you long enough. They meet daily. Dana brings them muffins.”

            She glared at him. “I’m a nurse, not a goddamn med student. Crying is for the weak,” she barked but then smirked.

            “So judgmental, the rookies need to feel, Ace.”

            Their eyes were still looking at one another. “Do you think Jack would be mad if I didn’t tell him right away? Tell him when I’m ok?”

            Robby shook his head. “I would be ok with that,” he whispered but then sighed. “But Jack, he’d wouldn’t be mad, he’d be upset that you went through this alone.”

            She nodded. “He would say his classic line. I literally have a quote diary for him,” she muttered with a smile. “He would say,” she began and looked at Robby, clearing her throat for her best Jack impression, “it’s in the diary, ‘Dove…I’m not mad. I’m disappointed.’ Then he would be like, ‘Not in you, but in me. That I wasn’t there, but also that you went through this alone,’ isn’t that a Jack saying.” She smirked, proud of herself. Robby stared at her for a moment before nodding and chuckling.

            “You’re right on point, Ace.”

            “God, I know. I’ve been practising,” she hummed, smirking and sending him a wink and nudging his shoulder. “Anyway,” she whispered moments later. “You’re the Chief, fuck off and save lives.”

            He looked at her again and nodded. “You right?” he asked, nudging her.

            She looked at him for a moment, finding her words then broke in a smile. “I need a bloody case.”

            “Don’t jinx it.”

            “I need them alive. But like a good adrenaline rush. Earlier, when you let me do that intubation,” she hummed, nudging him again, “convincing me to join the daylight?”

            “You were moved to day shifts ten days ago,” he stated nonchalantly.

            “So, I can always change. You are on salary, me…well, hourly.” Then she smirked. “I love you, Cowboy, but like, you need to convince me to stay on the day. Jack lets me do way more on our shift.”

            He raised a brow, “It’s day. I can’t let you play being a doctor,” he stated. “Hate to break it to you, Ace, but you have a BSN, not an MD.”

            “Well, fuck you too, Robby.”             They stayed silent for moment. Then she smiled. “Hey, Cowboy?”

            “Yeah?”

            “Thanks for the mint,” she said with a smile, holding up the wrapper like a prize. “It helped. But not like a cigarette though.”

            He chuckled. “Well, if you stay on days, I’ll buy you a pack and store it in my locker for when you need them. But you can only smoke between 8am-6pm before Jack comes.”

            She smirks. “Marlboro lights, Cowboy. Take notes,” she hummed, winking.

            He nodded as she dropped her hold. “Locked in mind, Ace,” he hummed, smirking.          She nodded. “Go, save lives. I’ll be there in two.”

            He nodded, kissing the side of her temple before squeezing her arm and walking away. For a second, he paused, turning on his toes to look at her. “I may be good friends with Jack, but talk to me, ok? We are friends.”

            She smirked. “More than friends. Great friends, Cowboy. I’ll call you if I need you,” she muttered then lowered her voice, “better fucking do it to me if you need me.”

            He stared at her, mouth dropping a second before nodding. “Affirmative.”

            She smirked, watching him walk away. “That’s my saying!” she called out.

taglist:

@bubbleraccoon00

@beebeechaos

@travelingmypassion

@kaisanpoint

@sweetwanderlust05

@kmc1989

@hiireadstuff

@dizzybee03

@keileighr

@wolfbc97

@introvertathome

@sharkluver

@katydunn047-blog

@kenzimae67

@qardasngan

@rosieposie88

-

Hope you enjoyed. xoxo

Ava <3

[mrs-weasley-reid]

AUGUST REC FICS

Hello, my sweets!! Here I am, once again, for yet another month of reading and living vicariously through our one and only Reader. I haven't read much this past month, and most of these sweet authors are people I follow (and shockingly, some are my mutuals, too !!! I'm too much of a fangirl to believe it's true). Give these gorgeous, spectacular writers a ton of love. They all deserve it so much, considering they're blessing us with such amazing work for free. Like. Comment. Reblog. The equivalent of a five-star review

Like always, I will be going based on what I've read recently and not by the date the fic was posted. Reminder to please respect these writers. Some contents are 18+. MINORS should not be interacting in any way.

— ✿ — ✿ ✿ — ✿ ✿ ✿

Spencer Reid

✿ a muted shade of green by @dalamjisung ↳ the flow of this fic was so smooth my jaw dropped down on the floor as i read through (writer's first reid fic, and it was chef's kiss)

✿ hearts aligned by @raekensluver ↳ OMG this one had me melting. roommate spencer is such a dream

✿ sick love by @misserabella ↳ guilty pleasure unlocked. a wonderful reading session filled with interesting discoveries

✿ behind closed doors by @incognit0slut ↳ i loved binging this so much !!! was a giggling, kicking mess while reading this one; and it has four parts ! we're so spoiled

✿ kiss it better by @nereidprinc3ss ↳ tmi but was having an episode of mild anxiety attack, and this saved me in the middle of the night, giggling myself to sleep, so thank you for such amazing work x

✿ dead of night & nightvisions by @cxrrodedcoffin ↳ lol i read this at work and had to fight battles not to make any facial signs that i was consuming kinky content. the second part was another level, i was cackling like a witch

✿ much ado about nothing: act iii, scene v & act iv, scene i by @incognit0slut ↳ act iii, scene v left me speechless, reader didn't fold and i took that as a win. act iv, scene i played with my emotions lol

✿ just a number by @reidsdaisies ↳ i became a stand-up actress while reading this because it's overwhelmingly spicy and filled with tension i had to provide comedic relief for myself

✿ untittled req response by @mandarinmoons ↳ no because i saw my reblog post of this and i immediately snorted and then laughed some more after rereading it. pipe cleaner will never not be funny to me

✿ poison me, i'm fine by @gghostwriter ↳ no because this one needs more attention ?????????????? i loved reading this so much i was so tempted to pull my heart out and ship it to pau, show how crumpled it was after reading

✿ my best colors for your portrait & my face in every place by @none-of-your-bullshit ↳ i wasn't lying when i said august is for angst and i immediately gobbled this up after seeing it. the way my chest was so tight but also smiling because the writing style is amazing got me looking like a lunatic

✿ cute, outraged genius by @lavenderspence ↳ tina got me laughing like a gremlin. it's so adorable she made me fall in love with spencer all over again

✿ another untitled req response by @mandarinmoons ↳ sorry, sweethearts, ket just couldn't be bothered with titles lmao. secret lover reader is my favorite lover, sooooo you all will enjoy this cutie patootie creation

✿ one single thread of gold by @gghostwriter ↳ you'll overdose of sweetness. it's so adorable and a great way to feel giggly about spencer reid.

✿ for the fear of falling apart | part one by @pathologicalreid ↳ i haven't read the rest of the parts but mhmmm this was DELISH. well-written creation that made me show emotions while reading at work. my coworkers asked me my my eyes were so wide and i think that says a lot at how great this is

✿ second to none by @raekensluver ↳ ooooo this one got my blood boiling in a good way

✿ untitled work by @sincerelybubbles ↳ adorable stuff make me melt especially when it's a spencer one

— ✦ — ✦ ✦ — ✦ ✦ ✦

Aaron Hotchner

✦ darling, in any life series by @hotchfiles ↳ at this point are we even surprise im including yet another series form lari here ? anywayyy, i love me some old flame trope

✦ picket fence dream by @hotchfiles ↳ this is a new part from the choiceless hope series and i gobbled it up. i was screaming when i read this

✦ tells by @ssahotchnerr ↳ first thing i read in the morning, and i sobbed from the overwhelming sweetness

✦ silver by @solardrop ↳ okay but this was so adorable ??? plus im def one of those gals who tried to throw herself on him, maybe even catapult myself

✦ sympathy for the devil by @hotchfiles ↳ nosebleed. spice level is not as high as i make it seem but the writing really got me sweating. just read it, you'll understand what i mean

✦ spending time with you by @lavenderspence ↳ no because TINA CALLED ME OUT WITHOUT CALLING ME OUT. i was slightly offended. the gasp i gasped was so loud asdkfnkg. but it is adorable, go read it pls pls

✦ doctor, love by @none-of-your-bullshit ↳ i love when reader slaps the character with some reality like a seasoned raw steak.

sorry, not sorry if this post is filled with lari. I reread her works religiously, so here are my favorites from hers truly:

✦ help me hold onto you ↳ oh, this is like crack for me, and i always come crawling back no matter how hard i try to stay sober

✦ half asleep takin' chances ↳ still waiting for future aaron somewhere out there

✦ choices ↳ gonna be honest with everyone this one makes me wanna deck aaron hotchner and then deck reader for folding so easily and also deck myself because im no better than reader

✦ quis ut deus? & daniel 12:1 ↳ my fave series from lari and i will never not reread them over and over and over and over again because i love it so much idk what's the appeal on me but i love it and i want this framed and buried with me even if it's unfinished

I haven't had a lot of time to visit the good ole "for you" feed in a while, so I apologize for missing all the amazing work every writer has put out this month. I will make it up to you, I promise! And if you'd like, you can send me works or mention me so I can read certain creations that you deem noteworthy for the next rec fic month!

love lots, ker x

[byfulcrums]

been rewatching rtte

toothless is called T multiple times, but the letter T doesn't exist in the alphabet of this world

i think hiccup was also called H???

hiccup went to the wedding of the man who tried to kill him and his family multiple times. no wonder he thought he could change drago's mind

snotlout is canonically a theater kid

"you're so small and cuddly" "please never say that again"

the twins are really smart, but they're also just stupid

hiccup straight up disappears when he's working on something

heather had a super noticeable crush on astrid

fishlegs got a love interest!! a plus size main character actually has a cool, badass love interest!

it was super hetnormative but it was cute

there was an island full of flying women who were implied to regularly commit cannibalism

hiccup taught all the riders how to fly with toothless, that's so sweet

everyone is a flat earther except for the twins

hiccup almost directly killed a lot of people

and killed a LOT more when destroying their ships

“scalding– cal..ding--" "toothle, plama bla!" was pretty much the funniest part of the entire series

dagur was bullied as a kid by a guy 8 years older than him who literally tattooed an imagine of him beating up little dagur in his arm??? What was that all about

actually we need to talk about how messed up everything about dagur is and about how the things that could've/did happen(ed) to him may be the reasons why he's Like That

just why was he imprisoned by the outcasts??? he didn't do anything to them directly

oof my brain is spiraling. "he loved you" "ig now we'll never know" what do you mean he didn't know if his dad loved him

there's a technically musical episode

tuffnut became hiccup's defense attorney and immediately got him the death sentence

hiccup regularly jumps off cliffs

he also jumped off a boat, with his arms tied and without toothless. just where did he think he was going

snotlout's annoying attitude is actually because spitelout pressures him too much and he feels like he has to be perfect for his dad :((

THE 'HICCUP'S EVIL MIRROR' VILLAIN THEME DONE RIGHT YESS!!!

viggo is the best httyd villain change my mind (you can't, swords at sundown, you may bring backup but i will win on my own)

skrill comeback skrill comeback SKRILL COMEBACK!!!!

"COMEEE TO DADDY"

what is a boar pit???

oh my god i had missed this series so much. it has no right to be this funny

this was my childhood. it has forever shaped the way i am

berserker heather the unhinged >>>

actually good disability rep! yay

hiccup complains about his peg leg pinching him

he straight up cannot walk without it and it is shown many times

"well, there are the benefits of a metal leg" after it got caught in a bear trap

funny moments, like snotlout trying to steal it to use it as a weapon

the jokes!! toothless laughing at the jokes!!! hiccup being so fucking done with the twins, who are always making the jokes!

there's an episode where everyone is so sleep deprived they actually start spiraling

astrid becomes a happy go lucky girl, hugs snotlout and tells him he's handsome

the fucking mood swings snotlout got were insane

the twins were straight up just hallucinating

"i sent them to wash their dragons, how could they mess that up?" cut to heather falling on her face with a bucket full of water in her hands

fishlegs becomes so paranoid, he's yelling at everyone all the time

"don't you know the trapper's trap can trap the trapper?? ...oh gods, i must be losing it, i'm quoting dagur"

YOOOO VALKA!!!! it's so nice to see her

hiccup tried to murder dagur to stop him from getting to toothless, which is scary bc it shows just how far he's willing to go for his bff, but also funny because hiccup. that was not going to work

oh the hiccstrid slowburn, how i have missed you

the twins's made up language

there was a beach episode turned murder mystery and a musical episode held at gun point

hiccup has a whole little speech that he periodically gives astrid to remind her that the twins serve a purpose

[toonice113]

This Ken’s job is hockey ⋆ ★ N.Hischier

Pairings: Nico Hischier x reader

Genre: fluff, SMAU at the end

Summary: In which you have a famous podcast with your best friend where you talk about everything and anything including stories about your relationship even though people don’t know the identity of your boyfriend — that is until you decide to hard launch him

Warnings: none

Word count: 554

⋆˚࿔ tina's note 𝜗𝜚˚⋆  Wrote most of this last night at midnight when I couldn’t sleep and didn’t proofread it but here’s a little blurb to celebrate Nico’s second hat trick and the two wins against the wild.

You were in the middle of filming a new episode of your podcast when your best friend brings up the topic of men’s fashion “Like when men were wearing those stupid jeans with ribs on them” Your face contorts in cringe thinking back on it “Or skinny jeans but like really tight skinny jeans”

“You know what I hate? When I see a girl on a date and she’s all dressed up and the guy’s made no effort” You say, your friend agreeing 

“YESSSS!!! I once went out on a first date with this guy and he wore sweats to it which I would get if our plans were just casual but we were going to a fancy-ish restaurant” You laugh at her story “You got lucky with Ken” 

“He lives in athleisure when he’s home, you have no idea” You chuckle thinking “He’s so over suits which sucks cause he looks yummy in them” 

Your friend winces at your last comment “Please never call him yummy again, anyways for those of you who don’t know Ken—”

“My boyfriend” You clarify 

“Yes, his job requires him to wear suits and y/n loves it” 

“I do love it” You nod at the camera 

“You know, you’ve never revealed why you started calling him Ken online” Your friend says “Why don’t you share that story with everyone?”

“Oh well it started because I’ve never shown him in anything before and we’ve always talked about having a more private relationship since well you know I post a lot of my life on the internet” You say, your friend nodding as both of your content outside of the podcast is pretty similar “And there was this day when I was you know doing my usual making my coffee and sharing a story tiktok and the story was about how I’d had a bad day the day before I hadn’tslept enough”

“And you guys don’t want to deal with a sleep deprived y/n, it gets bad” Your friend adds 

You flip her off before continuing your story “Anyways I was tired and cranky and my he had made plans for lunch that day but because I was in a bad mood we ended up leaving lunch early to take a nap because he knew I would be insufferable for the rest of the day if I didn’t get more sleep” 

“Big nap household you guys are” You nod “I wish i could nap but I can’t sleep during the day”

“Honestly? I wasn’t much of a napper before him” You say “But now I love naps” 

“Okay finish your story” Your friend reminds you knowing this nap tangent could keep going for way longer 

“Right, so after I posted that one comment said ‘Barbie has a great day everyday, but Ken only has a great day If Barbie gets enough sleep’ and then I just started calling him Ken when I told my stories” You finish 

“Well I think the nickname Ken does suit him to be honest, I will attest to Ken only having a good day if Barbie smiles at him” Soon after that you two finish the episode.

It’s months after, on your 2 year anniversary, after sharing dozen of stories about ‘Ken’ that you finally hard launched your relationship with an Instagram post.

yourusername

Liked by nicohischier and others

yourusername This Ken's job is Hockey! 2 years of loving you here's to many more 💘

view all comments

📌 nicohischier 2 years of having good days thanks to you

yourfriend you two are disgustingly cute happy two years!

user I was convinced she was dating a finance bro

↳ user2 no because me too! especially because of the suit comments

user3 it feels illegal to know this man's identity

user4 wtf do you mean nico hischier is THE ken

user5 thank you for introducing us i will now go back to pretending i don't know who this man is, happy 2 years though!

↳ user6 right? because he will always be ken to me

yourusename don't worry everyone, he'll still be ken in my story times!

[myrruwrites]

Streamer!Jinx headcanons.

Just some basic ideas and drabbles pooled into one post. I see a lot of streamer!ellie and streamer!vi, but barely any jinx if any at all. I don’t know, I just think she’d be the funniest streamer ever.

CW: Cursing? bits of Jinx x f!reader. jokes about jinx being cancelled, homophobia mentions.

Streamer!Jinx who got surprised when she blew up pretty fast. For the wrong reasons, Ofcourse (controversy, because she can’t keep her mouth shut), but once it smoothed over she gained a lot of following from it.

She has no filter. None. The second something pops into her head, she says it aloud. She deals with the consequences afterwards.

Her room is either really messy, or oddly tidy. On that note, Streamer!Jinx that decorated her whole setup and desk, plus her headphones. They’re all covered in scribbles and spraypaint.

Streamer!Jinx that sometimes manages to convince you to play on stream with her, addressing you as a close friend to keep you both comfortable and safe online.

She constantly says “chat” and “gang”, even when she’s not streaming. Vi and Ekko pick up on it and comment on it frequently, using it to tease her.

Rages at Minecraft. 100%. She joined MCC, just to ragequit half way through because her team was in dead last. Her chat watched her leave the server and walk out of her room on the webcam. She had to take a whole 15 minuet break and come back with a cup of coffee to calm down.

She would start a Minecraft hardcore series just to hide in a hole as soon as it turns night, before logging off and never returning.

"Guys this is my first episode of... MINECRAFT HARDCORE!

...

Chat this seems to be my first AND last episode."

Jinx who accidentally revealed your relationship on live. She slipped up and called you "darling" or "babe", and her chat never dropped it.

"BABE?!"

"Holy shit did she just call her babe?"

"Ladies, we have a chance!"

"DID WE HEAR THAT RIGHT"

She tried to change the topic, "We’re going to win this round!", to say she lost, and her chat didn’t drop the topic, would be an understatement.

She got cancelled for homophobia once, because she went on a 'just chill and talk' live about how she didn’t approve of Caitlyn and Vi being together. It got taken the wrong way and had to explain that she’s infact Queer with a girlfriend. She defended herself with "Guys, I’m literally dating.." after she revealed your relationship, and then went on a rant sesh about you. She’s the biggest yapper ever.

Her twitch account got banned or suspended once because she got so mad at a kid on Fortnite that she cursed him out and went overboard. (Again, she has no filter).

She mainly plays Minecraft and gun games. But sometimes she’ll do longer lives for charity where she’ll play the chat’s top pick.

She accidentally showed your face on stream once, forgetting to tell you her webcam was on. You didn’t realise until later that day there were edits of you on your own fyp or twitter TL. "Babe, you might wanna see this.."

Jinx still gets confused whenever she sees an edit of herself. Also, she has a public favourite folder of edits of you. She doesn’t know how to edit it to make it private.

Once you got comfortable showing your face on webcam, Jinx hosted a “do my hair and Q&A” stream where you braided and brushed her hair while you both answered questions. Any excuse to spend time with you at the same time as working.

Notes: first time ever writing jinx, so I thought I’d start with headcanons. Do we want a streamer!jinx fic? Like an actual fic? Pls give me ideas on what to write abt her

[qwimblenorrisstan]

(im back, christmas break is here!!)

tw: mentions of abuse, violence, sexism (but secondary gender), omegaverse dynamics, crying, heavy angst no aftercare (again)

The uncomfortable tension in the room was palpable as they all sat in their usual debriefing room. Usually, the nest was a place for such a personal and volatile topic such as this, but none of them felt worthy of being there now. Not with how they’d treated you.

Soap was tapping his foot against the floor, the pattern uneven and sporadic, until Gaz snapped at him.

“Could you quit it, mate?” It had come out harsher than he’d meant. Soap huffed through his nose but obliged. They were all tense and on edge, their usually oh-so-controlled scents now sour and bitter with unease and anxiety.

In the field, they had their skills and weapons to fix problems, to take out the enemy. But here, back home? They had absolutely nothing in this fight. No amount of backup or fights could win this for them. In this fight, they were the enemy, and the only way to win this was by fixing the sacred little strand keeping you together that they had so carelessly unwound until it had snapped.

Ghost looked to Price. His hand was in his beard, thoughtfully running through the hair, stressed as Ghost has ever seen him. A sour pang of guilt shot through him. If he hadn’t tried forcing you to his scent gland, then you wouldn’t be in this position, and he wouldn’t have messed everything up, again—

“Y’re thinking too much.”

Price muttered, Simon’s feelings clear through the thick scent that somehow seemed to overpower everyone else’s in the air. He swallowed thickly. They needed a plan of action, some way to fix this, and the only way Price saw things being mended was by a lot of time and effort.

Gaz let the silence simmer for a moment, before speaking up.

“Cane Baker Syndrome, I looked it up yesterday night, it’s just like the med’ said. PTSD. Do you think…?”

An alpha being abused wasn’t as commonplace as it had used to be. Only 50 years ago, if you’d stepped into the common era, you’d see alpha’s being forced to work for a family they’d been forced into providing, their protective instincts abused. Among the more insane practices had been scratching out an alpha’s scent gland, so they couldn’t scent or get attached to their offspring, meaning the omega got the child all to themselves.

Awful things such as that had been outlawed years ago, but still happened in little forgotten corners of the world where loopholes existed.

“We can’t know for sure, but based on their reaction, I’d say we have a safe assumption. When they’re in a better….state of mind, we can ask a few questions.”

Price answered, voice heavy with an edge of guilt that seemed to grow richer by the second. Soap’s incessant tapping started up again, anxiety clearly chewing away at him. He couldn’t defuse you or the situation they’d created so easily like any other bomb he might during a mission.

“Could we get a background check on them?”

He asked, a hint of desperation in his tone. All he wanted was for you to be better again, for things to go back to normal, for a second chance.

But as they all split up, and he went to the nest, usually all so warm and comfortable and smelling of their sweet, rich scents combined, all he found was isolation among his team, sour scents mingling with rotten ones, a few sniffles and the salty scent of tears, he knew one thing.

They’d made their bed. Now they had to lie in it.

(sorry for the short part I’ve been playing cod bo6 multiplayer a lot and I’m kinda addicted + depressive episode, but there’ll be more soon I promise!!)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

[oddyseye]

Odysseus is a very feminine character, now that I think about it...

Alright, let’s get something straight before anyone comes at me with a “bUt tHiS iS gEnDeR eSsEnTiAlIsM” take. I’m not saying Odysseus is literally a woman or that masculinity and femininity are these rigid, unchanging constructs. I’m talking about how the ancient Greeks perceived these traits. This is about Homeric gender coding, not modern gender politics.

Ancient Greek society had clear ideas about what was “masculine” and “feminine.” Men fought, conquered, and sought kleos (glory). Women used cunning, patience, and endurance to survive. Odysseus? He embodies the latter far more than the former. That’s the point. That’s what makes him interesting. I’m not slapping modern labels on him; I’m analyzing how he would’ve been understood in his own time.

Got it? Got it. Then let me explain.

Greek heroism is all about kleos (glory), right? You charge into battle, fight, die gloriously, and get immortalized in song. Odysseus? Not his style. His whole thing is survival. Achilles, the epitome of warrior masculinity, chooses an early death in exchange for undying fame. Odysseus chooses life, no matter what it takes. He hides, deceives, and grovels when necessary...all acts that a traditionally “heroic” warrior wouldn’t be caught dead doing.

Take the Cyclops episode: a classic strongman hero would just fight Polyphemus. Odysseus? He outsmarts him with wordplay, drugs his enemy (like a sneaky witch would), and escapes by disguising himself under sheep. You’re telling me this is masculine? If anything, it aligns him with figures like Circe and Penelope. Women who survive through wit and deception rather than brute strength.

This man’s mouth is his deadliest weapon. He doesn’t win with a spear; he wins with stories, persuasion, and trickery. The word polytropos (πολύτροπος), used to describe him in the very first line of The Odyssey, literally means “many-turned” or “twisting,” evoking the way a woman might spin or weave. The metaphor of weaving is all over his character, and weaving is, of course, the domain of women in Greek thought.

Even his lies are textile-like. He spins tales, unravels them, and reweaves them as necessary. And let’s not ignore that his narrative mirrors Penelope’s: she weaves and unweaves her shroud, delaying the suitors; he spins and unspins his identity to survive. He and Penelope are two sides of the same coin, both manipulating reality to stay in control.

If we take ancient Greek gender norms seriously, dominance in sex = masculinity, and submission = femininity. And Odysseus? The man spends years being kept by women. Calypso and Circe both hold him as a sex slave, reducing him to an object of desire rather than an active agent. That’s not exactly Achilles ravaging Briseïs, is it? He’s literally lying in bed (λέχος) while these women rule over him.

Even in Ithaca, his return isn’t some macho takeover. He sneaks in, disguises himself, and watches before making his move. Unlike Agamemnon, who storms into Mycenae post-Troy and gets murked by his wife, Odysseus waits, gathering intel like a patient, calculating woman.

He also cries...like...a lot.

Masculine heroes go out into the world to conquer (Iliadic energy). Feminine figures are more often concerned with the home. Odysseus’s entire goal? To get back to Ithaca, to his oikos, to his wife. He’s not seeking new conquests or greater glory. He wants stability, family, domesticity. He longs for the space traditionally occupied by women.

Odysseus is basically the Greek epic’s answer to the trickster woman trope. He’s wily, verbal, emotionally expressive, and constantly using the strategies of metis, not brute strength, to survive. While Homeric masculinity typically means fighting, dying, and achieving kleos, Odysseus thrives through deception, patience, and endurance. Traits that the ancient Greeks more often ascribed to women.

[fuckyeahisawthat]

Since everyone is talking about that concept art of Jayce and Viktor fighting, it's useful to know that the concept artist, Suheb Zako, also posted it on their twitter with some context.

It is early concept art for a final fight between Jayce and Viktor in the hexzone sorry I'm not calling it that astral plane. There's a link in the twitter thread to an anime clip that gives you a sense of what the vibe would've been.

It's not totally clear when in the development/production process this art is from, but I wouldn't be surprised if Jayce and Viktor originally had a dynamic that was more like their game counterparts. In that case a knock-down-drag-out fight in the astral plane might've fit better. But in the final version of the show it wouldn't have worked anywhere near as well as what we got, and not just because it would have seemed out of character for what the characters and their relationship arc became in the finished show.

First of all, we already did have a knock-down-drag-out fight between them. That's the Council chamber fight scene. It would've felt like a repeated beat and that's the last thing you want in your big finale. When you have characters who fight each other multiple times, you want each fight to reflect a progression of their relationship.

Secondly, by the end of the show, Viktor is absurdly overpowered compared to any other character. Once he goes full Machine Herald he is basically a god. A conventional fight scene is just not gonna do it here. You need a twist, some way to win that doesn't involve being stronger than him. And the trump card being The Power of Unconditional Love (And Also This Time Machine Getting Chucked at Your Head) fits perfectly with the show's themes.

Thirdly, the final episode is ALL action. In an episode that's one massive battle, it takes a lot of work to make individual pieces of action stand out. (And generally, you do it not by making the fighting look Super Duper Extra Cool, but with character work.) But any scenes between the characters that are not action are automatically gonna pop because they're so different in pacing and energy from everything around them.

I haven't seen as many people discussing this set of keyframes, but the changes here are also fascinating:

Because Viktor assimilating Jayce as a battle move is almost the complete opposite of what we got in the finished show, and what we got in the finished show is so fucking good. It's one of my favorite moments in the whole damn series.

I've already written about it here, but playing it so that Jayce doesn't get surprised or overpowered but chooses to allow Viktor to bring him into the astral plane as a last-ditch effort to reach whatever is left of Viktor's humanity is sooooooo narratively sexy. (And also just. Sexy. Big stronk dude with his fuckass hammer and his stupid shoulder armor waiting on his knees for his eldritch god bf to materialize behind him and oh so tenderly penetrate his brain with his magic fingers, listen I am not making this up this is just what happens, no homoerotic fight scene could ever top this.)

It also fits with the motif of a number of characters winning their individual battles in the finale by surrender/submission/potential self-sacrifice. It fits with Caitlyn realizing that to cut the string of protective runes off Ambessa's arm she has to allow Ambessa to get within stabbing distance of her face. And of course, Jinx forcing Vi to let her go by popping the gemstone out of her gauntlet and letting herself fall with Warwick.

Arcane has fantastic action storytelling and part of good action storytelling is knowing when to have the character stop fighting each other. Seeing the early concept art is cool to see how much things evolved, but I'm glad they moved away from just trying to do an epic boss fight because what we ended up with is so much more interesting.