#you have to be the one who remembers. to get the story right. to make sure he can live in peace

[firewasabeast]

I Never Really Had a Friend

A Buck-focused, bucktommy story. tags: Starting Over, Grief/Mourning, Getting Back Together, Ending Friendships, Bobby's death is mentioned, Eddie's toxic/abusive tendencies are briefly discussed, Bobby's suicidal thoughts are mentioned, Happy Ending. Rating: M. 5.4k. read below or on ao3.

Buck is sitting in the hospital, holding his nephew, thinking about the past few months of his life. The past year, really. The good, bad, and downright painful. He tries to remember the last time he was happy. Really happy.

He thinks it might be when he stumbled into his house, lips attached to Tommy’s, the two of them giggling like teenagers getting away with something.

Maybe, more precisely, it was the next morning. After he said it didn’t have to mean anything, and Tommy asked why not. For a brief moment, all the stars aligned, and everything felt right again.

Until, just as quickly, it all fell apart.

He blinks away tears, sticks his finger out for the baby to grab onto, and smiles.

Chimney’s talking to Maddie, getting her lunch order. She’s been craving an Italian sub for months, but wants it a very specific way, so Buck phases out of the conversation and focuses on his own never-ending train of thought.

Because if he really thinks about it, most of his happy memories from the past year include Tommy.

It sort of felt like the ground underneath him gave way the day Tommy left his apartment and, ever since then, he’s been trying to climb out of a gravelly pit that crumbles more every time he takes a step.

Something deep in his gut clenches when he thinks about Tommy for too long. He’s got ten unanswered messages from him, waiting for a response. Two each week since Bobby died.

Five missed phone calls too. The most recent was yesterday.

Consistent.

Buck wonders how long he’ll keep doing it. How long will he keep texting and calling before he gives it up? Before he realized Buck isn’t worth it.

He’s surprised Tommy has lasted this long, honestly.

It wasn’t that he had meant to ignore him. Tommy hadn’t done anything wrong.

It was just that Buck missed the first message, and the second one. Then he wasn’t by his phone for the first call.

And once he saw all that he’d missed, he started to write out an apology text.

Then he got distracted.

And now it felt like too much time had passed.

Time.

Buck wonders how much of that he’s got left. He feels like he’s lived a million lives already. Feels like he’s used up all of his luck. Next time… next time it’s him in that lab. Next time, he’s the one out of a third option. Next time, they’re carrying him out of the church and following behind his casket at the procession.

It makes him think of Bobby.

Bobby who, eight years ago, wouldn’t have cared to die in that lab. Who would have found nothing but peace inside of him when he realized he was infected. Wouldn’t have shed a tear.

He would have gone willingly, happily, maybe even purposefully.

The bonds he formed with everyone at the station never would have happened.

He never would have married Athena.

Never would have gotten all those extra years.

Wouldn’t have had people to miss him, to ache for him, every single moment of every single day if he’d given up back then.

He’s not sure how it all connects in his mind. It’d probably be a jumbled mess to anyone else. But to Buck, it’s clear as day.

He knows what he needs to do.

*****

Tommy’s hair is a curly mop of a mess when he opens the door. He’s half asleep, a blanket draped over his shoulders.

It’s the middle of the day, but Buck knows he just got done with a shift a couple of hours ago.

“Evan?” His head is slightly tilted to the side, face scrunched up in a sleepy confusion. “Dreamin’?”

Buck smiles, breathes out a laugh. “No, um, I- I needed to talk to you.”

Tommy moves out of the way, holding the door open for Buck to come inside.

“Sorry for not calling or texting you first,” he says as Tommy shuts the door behind him. “I just… it needed to be now.”

“It’s fine,” Tommy assures him, running his fingers through his hair. It does nothing but make his hair poof even higher. “Are you okay?”

Buck nods, a bit too enthusiastically to be believed. “Yeah, I- I’m good.”

“Mm.” Tommy tries to blink the sleep from his eyes. He points towards the kitchen. “I’m gonna fix some coffee. Try to wake up a little bit.”

Buck follows him to the kitchen, smiling as he listens to the sleepy patter of his feet. Tommy is a machine at work. Ready to jump up and fly at a moments notice. But, when he was home, he let his body rest. Let himself fall into a sleep so deep that, sometimes, Buck was sure the house could collapse around him and he’d never hear a thing.

Buck was actually surprised he’d heard the ringing of the doorbell… even if he did ring it twenty times in a row.

When it takes Tommy two tries to remember which cabinet his coffee is in, Buck nudges him out of the way. “Sit,” he says. “Let me. Least I can do after waking you.”

Tommy doesn’t argue. He sits at the barstool and waits, quietly. Buck doesn’t look back until the coffee has finished brewing. He half expects Tommy to be asleep, head tucked into the crook of his elbow.

But Tommy is watching him. Reading him. Studying him.

Buck looks away, pours Tommy a cup. “I probably should have called,” he mentions again.

“It’s really fine, Evan. I don’t go back to work for two days. Plenty of time to sleep.”

Buck finishes fixing his coffee, then slides it across the island. “Here you go.”

“Thanks. So, what’s up?”

“Just, take a few sips,” Buck replies, pushing the mug closer to Tommy. “Let yourself wake up a little bit.”

Tommy grins, lifting the mug and taking a sip. He sighs as it goes down.

Perfect.

“How was work?” Buck asks, keeping conversation light until Tommy is ready.

“Not bad. Not much downtime, but that seems to be the norm lately.”

“Yeah, it’s th- the same at our station too.”

Tommy takes another sip, then straightens his posture. “Okay, I’m awake now.”

“You sure?”

“I’m sure.”

A deep breath, a nod, and Buck begins. “I’ve been thinking, a lot, about a lot of things. My mind feels like a hamster on one of those wheels lately, just spinning, spinning, spinning, spi-” He waves a hand, stopping himself. “Anyway, um, I feel like my life is nothing like I want it to be. There’s a lot of things I thought I’d have by now, and there’s a lot of things I want, but I don’t say anything about it. I just shut my mouth and shut down and let things happen.” He squints at Tommy. “Am I making any sense?”

“I think so.”

“Okay. So, I- I’ve been wasting time. A lot of it, this last year. Well, maybe not the whole year, but most of it. And Bobby, he- he spent so long being unhappy, you know? Years of his life were spent in this- this limbo. And now he’s gone. I just… I keep thinking that in the end, all we have is time.” He’s rambling. He knows it. Tommy knows it. He reels himself in. “Tommy, I don’t want to keep wasting time, and I don’t want to die without telling you how I feel. I want to be with you, i- if that’s what you want. I want to try again. I want to do this right. I want to be honest. I miss you. I’ve been missing you for months now and I hate wondering if each time I see you will be the last time."

Tommy stares at Buck for a moment, then looks down at his cup. “Maybe one more sip.”

Okay. Now Buck was going to panic.

“I- I’m sorry,” he rushes out. “I’m doing it again. I’m being impulsive and I’m m- making it about me and I don’t-”

“No,” Tommy interrupts, his voice as calm and polite as ever, “it’s… here.” He pushes out the seat beside him, giving it a pat. “Will you sit down, please?” Buck comes around and sits, anxiously wiping his sweaty hands down his pants. “Evan, I’ve tried talking to you for over a month.”

“I know. I- I’m sorry for that too.”

“No, I’m not… Evan, you don’t need to be sorry. I get it, I understand. I just- part of me thought-” he sighs, searching for the right words. “I figured you didn’t want to talk to me. I kept thinking I was bothering you, but I had to do something. When I opened the door I was kinda figuring you were here to tell me to leave you alone. Things have veered in a direction I was not expecting.” He lays his hand out on the counter, palm up, ready for Buck to take.

So he does.

“You have a way of doing that, you know?” Tommy says, a smile playing on his lips.

“Freaking you out?” Buck offers.

���Surprising me,” Tommy responds. He gives Buck hand a squeeze. “Evan, I… are you sure?”

“About wanting to be with you?”

“Yes.”

“I think it’s the only thing in my life I’m one hundred percent sure of right now,” he answers honestly. “But I want you t- to be sure. I don’t want you to say yes just because you think you ha-”

He’s cut off as Tommy stands, places a hand on either side of his face, and presses their lips together.

For a second, Buck freezes. His hands curl into fists, then they relax, and he’s taking a deep breath, and grabbing onto Tommy’s shirt and the blanket he’s still got wrapped around him.

For a moment nothing else in the world exists. This, right here, a sturdy body with a gentle soul, is everything in the world.

And then Tommy pulls away.

“Sorry for the coffee breath,” he whispers between them, their foreheads pressed together.

Buck laughs.

A real, genuine laugh.

It feels scary.

It feels wrong.

It feels amazing.

“I don’t care,” he replies. “Just do it again.”

*****

Buck is standing in the middle of Eddie’s living room.

No. His living room.

At least for one more week.

It’s almost empty.

He wishes he’d never put all of his boxes out for recycling. He never thought he’d need them again, and so soon.

He feels as empty as the room looks. A hollow shell of a person.

He shouldn’t. He recognizes that. This is good, in the long run. It’s exactly what he’s wanted.

He’s not about to be homeless. He offered to go. Offered to give Eddie the place back. In a surprising turn of events, two weeks after getting back together, following a failed date night and a round of sex that never happened due to an accidental kick to the groin, Tommy had grunted out the words, “You should move in with me,” right as Buck placed an ice pack on his crotch.

They discussed it for the rest of the night.

Then had successful sex the next morning.

So Buck isn’t upset about leaving. Not really.

But it’s in this space, this room filled with memories and ghosts, that Buck decides he’s never really had a friend.

Because, yes, he’d offered the place back to Eddie. It’s why he decided to sublease it in the first place. But then Eddie bought a place in Texas, and the move seemed permanent, and Buck… Buck moved in.

So when Eddie decided they were coming back, the words stumbled out of Buck’s mouth without a thought. “That’s great! When do you need your place back by?”

And Eddie responded with a date.

He didn’t ask if Buck had anywhere to go.

He didn’t say he could find a new place of his own.

He didn’t even say thank you.

He responded with a date.

Buck didn’t think about it at the time. In the silence of this house though, a house that once again fills with echoes at the slightest sound, it’s all he can think about.

He decides, right then and there, to make a change.

Test the waters.

He becomes unavailable over the following weeks. He settles in with Tommy, and Eddie settles back into his old home. Then Eddie calls, invites Buck over on Friday.

Buck almost says yes, but something stops him.

Or, rather, he stops himself.

“Why, what’s up?” he says instead.

“Well, you know that woman I met at the building collapse?”

Buck does, vaguely. “Mhm.”

“She gave me her number and we made plans to go out. I figured you and Chris could hang here, catch up.”

Buck loves Chris. He really does. He’d do anything for the kid.

Which is why he pauses for nearly five seconds before replying, “Sorry, Tommy and I have plans. Maybe someone else can watch him for you. Gotta go.”

Two more offers to babysit comes up in less than two weeks time. Buck declines each one. He waits until Chris texts him himself, asks if he wants to hang out, play video games, eat junk food.

Buck and Tommy pick him up together, head back to their place, have a guys day.

Buck and Tommy have talked about it, the way Buck feels. The way the scale never quite evens out. He tells Tommy one night, “I know I can make things about me, I know I can be selfish, but I feel like I’m never able to talk about how I feel at all. Like, i- if I do, I need to feel bad about it… or that, maybe, next time, he’ll do more than get in my face. I don’t think that’s what friendship is supposed to be.”

“Evan,” Tommy had responded, pulling him in to lay on his chest, “you’re the least selfish person I know. Anyone who makes you feel otherwise… I’m sorry, but, they don’t know you at all.”

And that was the thing.

Eddie didn’t know him at all.

Because every time Buck had tried to open up about anything serious, Eddie slammed the door in his face.

"Want me to talk to him?" 

"No. Thanks, but no."

“Why don’t you talk to him about it?” Tommy suggested. “Tell him how you feel.”

Buck huffed out a laugh. “I like the way my nose looks now.”

*****

While he does reduce his time around Eddie to working hours only, he ends up spending more time with Ravi. As Hen takes over as captain, Eddie becomes a licensed paramedic. Buck and Ravi are almost always paired up at work, and they end up working really well together. Maybe it’s because Ravi spent years learning all of Buck’s little quirks, but he can usually figure out what Buck needs before Buck actually realizes he needs it.

This works both ways, and they find they’re a spectacularly efficient pair.

Things might’ve started out a little rough for them on the friendship front, but somehow they end up at the same bar, same time, same day, every week.

“Anyway,” Ravi says, sipping on his third drink of the night, “after Hen talked to her, the lady said she decided not to press charges. Which is insane in the first place, because how could she press charges on me for pulling her out of a burning building?”

“Sounds like she had an interesting way of showing her gratitude,” Buck replies with a shake of his head. “It’s always crazy to me how some people will actually get mad when we don’t let them die in a horrific way.”

“Right?!” Ravi sets down his glass, gives Buck a nod. “So, what about you?”

“What about me?”

“How are you doing?” Ravi asks.

“Oh,” Buck waves him off. “I’m fine. How’s your family?”

“No, no.” Ravi wiggles a finger at him. “I just spent half an hour complaining about my life. The next half hour is yours.”

Buck contemplates his response. Opens his mouth, closes it, opens it again.

Then the words spill out like a dam breaking open.

He talks about Bobby, about feeling like the 118 is a shell of its former self. He talks about the fact he spends a lot of nights crying, especially when he has work the next day. He tells Ravi how Tommy does his best to console him, tries everything to make it better. But it’s not really something he’s able to fix.

Buck talks about how he feels like a friendship spanning the better part of eight years now feels like a lie. How he feels used, belittled, and like he gave and gave without ever getting anything back in return.

He talks about the good stuff too. How well he and Tommy are doing. How comfortable they are with each other. How he feels comfortable having flaws, because he knows Tommy loves him anyway. How he feels safe, even when they argue, because Tommy is the most gentle human being he knows.

He talks about Hen, and what a great job she’s doing as captain. How happy he is for her; how much she deserves it. That’s why he feels so bad about the fact that he hates coming into work. Hates being there. It feels wrong. It doesn’t bring him the joy it once did.

And Ravi… Ravi listens. He nods along, and interjects when necessary, and he asks questions. In the end, he may not be the best at giving advice, but he replies with, “Man, that sucks,” and Buck feels like a giant weight was lifted off of his shoulders.

Getting everything off of his chest with someone he works with, someone who he is beginning to consider a friend, feels like a fresh start.

He doesn’t cry the night before work.

Tommy holds him anyway.

He falls into a rhythm. Things are different, but they’re okay.

He has Tommy to talk to, and Ravi. He and Maddie make plans when they can. It usually ends with him spending the most time with his niece and nephew, but he can’t complain about that.

Hen becomes more comfortable as captain, Chimney and Eddie settle in as a duo, and they all still operate well as a unit.

Buck cooks, when he can. Maybe not everyone sits down together for meals anymore, but the majority of them do.

It’s good. They laugh, they talk, they compliment his cooking.

He begins to think he can do this. That maybe it just took more time than he expected to find a new normal after Bobby.

His weekly outings with Ravi become less about complaining and more about general talking and catching up on the little things.

He settles.

Until it all blows up in his face.

He and Ravi have been sent out to help with training new recruits for the day. It’s a normal day, everything is going well.

It hits five o’clock, time for everyone to leave, and Buck is in the middle of giving a pep talk when his phone rings.

Ravi takes over as he accepts the call.

It’s Hen. She heard over the radio that Tommy fell from a ladder while working ground ops. He’s at the hospital getting checked out, but he’s alert now.

There’s one particular word that sticks out to him.

Now.

Buck asks what she means, that he’s alert now?

Hen proceeds to tell him that when he was first brought in this morning, he wasn’t conscious. But now he’s awake and answering questions. Hen, Chim, and Eddie are already at the hospital, waiting for more updates.

There’s a whirring noise happening. Buck feels like he’s stuck in a fun house, surrounded by mirrors, all of his reflections laughing at him.

“You heard this o- over the radio?”

Hen hesitates. “Yes, but Buck-”

“So you’ve known since this morning?”

“Buck, I didn’t want you to think the worst without us knowing first. It’s-”

“I’m on my way.”

Ravi drives him to the hospital.

Buck tries his best to bite his tongue, but as soon as he sees Hen he’s livid again, and he lets it be known.

“You have no right to decide what I can or can’t handle. He’s my partner, and I should have been here with him eight hours ago.”

“Buck, I didn’t-”

“How would you feel if it were Karen?” Buck interrupts. “Or one of your kids?”

“Hey, chill, Man,” Eddie says, sticking his hand inches from Buck’s chest. “She didn’t want you freaking out for nothing, which is exactly what you’re doing.”

Buck’s pretty sure he’s never felt the level of rage he feels in this moment.

He takes a breath, wonders if the steam is actually visible as it escapes through his ears.

“You get your hand the hell away from me, Diaz,” he warns and, to his credit, Eddie takes a couple of steps back. Buck focuses back on Hen. “I’m gonna go be with my boyfriend, like I should have been since this morning. You all can go.”

Before Buck has a chance to walk away, Chimney speaks up. “You need us to get anything for you?”

He sounds embarrassed. Buck hopes he is.

“I can get whatever he needs,” Ravi replies. Buck feels eternally grateful for him. “Go see Tommy,” he says as the others filter out. “Text me whatever you need. I’ll be here.”

Buck can’t help himself. He pulls Ravi in for a hug so tight it knocks the air out of him.

“I’ll see what Tommy needs too,” he says as Ravi returns the hug. “You can come right to the room after.”

“Okay.” Ravi gives him a pat on the back. “Now go see your guy.”

In the end, it’s a hairline fracture in his leg, a sprained wrist, and a minor concussion. Nothing too serious. The only thing Buck and Tommy end up needing from Ravi is a ride home, so he joins them in Tommy’s hospital room and they keep each other company until Tommy is released.

Once Buck gets Tommy into bed, he sits beside him. He props himself up with a couple of pillows, his laptop resting on his thighs. He keeps a hand in Tommy’s hair, running his fingers through his curls.

With his free hand, he types, scrolls, and does research until the sun starts to rise.

He takes the next two weeks off.

Spends it studying for the captain’s promotional test.

*****

He keeps it a secret for as long as he can.

He tells Tommy, who spends all of his recovery time helping Buck study and research and prepare in any and every way possible.

He lets it slip to Ravi on accident, who promises not to say a word.

He actually keeps his promise too.

It’s refreshing.

He manages to take the exam without anyone else finding out. Passes with flying colors. He, Tommy, and Ravi go out for celebratory drinks.

But there’s more to it than the written test.

There’s tactical exercises, role-play scenarios, multiple interviews that include evaluators from outside the department. Even an interview with the department fire chief.

He gets scheduled for role-play scenarios and his first interview before Hen calls him into the office.

“Is this because of what happened with Tommy?” she asks.

He could keep it simple. Say yes.

But that wouldn’t be the entire truth.

“I started looking into it after Tommy was hurt,” he answers instead. “But I’ve been thinking about it since… since Bobby.”

“You’d be put at a different house, Buck,” she reminds him. “We’ve got B and C shift already covered.”

Buck nods. “I know. I- I think that’s part of why I want to do it.”

“Oh.”

“Listen, Hen, you- you’re a great captain. You were meant for this job. If it can’t be Bobby, you’re the only other logical option. But I… I’m not happy here anymore. I don’t think I have been for a long time and I think I- I need a fresh start.”

She’s quiet for a moment, then she smiles softly at him. “If you need help,” she says, “pointers, tips, anything, you can ask me. I just went through the process a few months ago, Buck, I’m sure it hasn’t changed much in that time.”

He accepts the help, but they don’t have much more time to talk before they get a call.

He’s not sure how Chimney finds out, or who tells Eddie, but Eddie never says anything about him going for captain.

Chimney does. Chomping his gum, asking Buck what he’s thinking by leaving their family.

He means well, so Buck doesn’t tell him it stopped feeling like a family a long time ago.

He makes it to the final part of the process. Remembers Hen’s advice. Answers the questions the way he thinks Bobby would.

He passes.

He feels his body relax for the first time in weeks.

“Congratulations, Captain Buckley,” Chief Simpson says as he shakes his hand. “I’ll be in touch with you soon.”

*****

He swears he sees God when he comes on Tommy’s cock that night. He can’t help it when Tommy has traded out his usual pet names for “Captain” and “Sir” and “Boss.” Keeps asking him for advice, whispering in his ear, “Am I doing this right, Captain Buckley?”

Chief Simpson calls a week later. It’s sooner than Buck expects.

There’s a captain retiring at Station 13 in six weeks. Buck could start now, train under him, take over as captain of B-shift once those six weeks are up.

Buck accepts without hesitation.

Three days later, they throw him a party at the 118. Tommy comes, Chris comes, Maddie brings the kids, Athena makes an appearance between calls.

When he walks out at the end of his shift, he doesn’t look back.

He starts at Station 13 two days later.

Captain Fredericks isn’t a bad man. He’s a good captain, and treats his team with respect, but there’s little camaraderie between them. When they aren’t on a call, they’re all doing their own thing. The station is quiet most of the time. And when Buck tries to chat with the rest of the team, he’s often met with what he can only describe as “polite resistance.”

Each week, Fredericks takes an extra step back and gives Buck a little more to do. By the end of the six weeks, Fredericks has taken on a mostly silent role in their partnership.

He feels confident as he starts his first week on his own.

It lasts a total of one hour and thirty-two minutes.

Jacobson, who wasn’t an issue for the entire six weeks, manages to undermine Buck multiple times on a single call.

The rest of the day doesn’t go much better.

He overhears Jacobson making jokes about him, and mocking his stutter.

When he makes a meal for everyone that evening, they grab a plate, scoop their food, and go into their own corners to sit and stare at their phones while they eat.

On their last call, instead of having Jacobson rappel down to get a hiker that fell thirty feet off the side of a cliff, he just does it himself. He ends up with a banged up knee, and multiple scratches that bleed for longer than he’d like to admit.

Tommy draws him a bath when he gets home. Puts medicine on the scratches. Rubs his feet and legs. Holds Buck as he cries himself to sleep. The next morning, when they wake up all tangled together, Tommy tells him about Bobby and Sal. It’s a story Buck has heard before, but it helped to hear it again. Especially now.

During his next shift, when he hears Jacobson mutter “weasel” under his breath after Buck gives him an order, Buck stands tall, looks him dead in the eyes, and tells him to repeat what he just said.

Jacobson does.

Buck asks if they have a problem.

Jacobson reminds him that he’s forty years old, and Buck hasn’t even made it to thirty-five yet. How the hell is he supposed to respect him?

“Respect is earned,” Buck tells him. “You don’t know me enough to respect me, I’ll give you that. But that doesn’t change the fact that I’m your captain now so, while you may not respect me, you do have to respect my authority. If you can’t do that, I’d suggest transferring to another station before you lose your job.”

That seems to quiet him for the rest of the day.

Jacobson puts in a transfer request three days later.

Four days after that, another transfer request hits his desk.

But this one is someone asking to transfer to his station.

Ravi Panikkar.

With Jacobson gone, and Ravi filling his spot, Buck starts to feel settled again.

The rest of his team are good people.

There’s Abarca, who is young and full of both spunk and anxiety. She’s nineteen years old and Buck is pretty sure she’s been on her own for longer than she could drive.

Smith and Smith, not related, are both paramedics. Barry Smith, who goes by Smith, has been at 13 for twenty years. Victor Smith, who also goes by Smith, changed careers two years ago. Went from working as a manager in a grocery store to graduating top of his class and getting his choice of station.

Buck thought having two Smith’s would be confusing, but they guaranteed him that they would know who he was talking to as soon as he called for them.

They haven’t been wrong yet.

And then there’s Carmen, who judges everyone, and Buck loves her for it. Her facial expressions alone can shut up even the most annoying humans. It also helps that her wife is a baker, and she gives Carmen anything she has left over to bring to the station.

One day Carmen’s wife comes in herself, and Buck introduces himself to Shiela. He asks her how she makes her eclairs? He’s been trying to get that right for a long time now and the texture always feels off.

This becomes a thirty minute conversation that ends in Shiela inviting Buck and Tommy over for dinner and a dessert class.

Tommy and Carmen have a great time watching and being taste testers.

They make it a regular thing.

Buck invites the team over for a barbecue after a couple of months. He invites the 118 too. It’s nice having everyone together. They have a good time.

That night, when he and Tommy are in bed, Tommy is peppering kisses down his chest. “You know,” he says, nibbling at Buck’s skin before soothing the spot with his tongue, “I see the way your team looks at you. They look up to you already.”

“I don’t, mmm, I don’t know about that.”

“I do,” Tommy insists, kissing him just above his belly button. “I’m so proud of you.”

And if tears leak from his eyes as Tommy takes him in his mouth, well, they’re happy tears now.

Buck keeps cooking dinners every shift. While Ravi has taken a seat beside him from the start, he calls attention to the others when they start to walk away with their plates.

“Everyone, I- I’d like for us to all sit at the table today,” he says, clearing his throat when they all give him a confused look. “Actually, I- I’d like for us to, um, to sit at the table every day, for dinner. My old captain, he- he used to always have family dinners for us. We sit together, eat together, talk about stuff. I- I want us to do that too.”

There’s a few more seconds of stares, then slowly they start to make their way to the table.

“Family dinners?” Abarca questions.

“Family dinners,” Buck confirms.

She shrugs her shoulders. “That sounds cool.”

The others nod, take their seats, and begin to eat.

It’s here, in this moment, with these people, that Buck realizes Bobby was right.

He is going to be okay.

And he found the people who need him.

[lighting-and-shadow]

Post LADS Main Story: NonMC Reader x Sylus

So I had a thought again: you being reincarnated into the world of LADS, but after the story ends. Ever is no more. Wanderers have been cured and don't exist anymore. The world is relatively peaceful.

MC has found her happy ending with one of the boys, something you find out during a stroll in Linkon City. And it's not Sylus.

I was thinking it would be Xavier for the angst factor. Because, to Sylus, she chose the prince of the people that caused him so much pain over him. She chose the light Xavier represents over his darkness. She chose someone who, in Sylus' mind, was born with everything over him who worked to get everything he has for her sake.

Or maybe she chose Caleb. And that would hurt too because Sylus realizes that while they only had each other in the past, she overlooks that for her present. That their history isn't nearly as valuble as her history with Caleb.

Either way, it causes sad boy hours. The man is devasted. And while he and MC still have a friendship, it's a bit toxic. No longer do they play Kitty Cards or spend time at the claw machine. With the new love in her life, all that's left for Sylus is scraps.

She uses him. Calls him when she needs something or she wants to do something. But if it's him? She blows him off. She treats him like a joke.

Maybe not even truly realizing that she is (but part of me wants to go the bitch route because I've made her so nice in all my other current works and WIPs; I blame @rcvcgers for this (I say this with love, because I honest to god love Rotten Apples), and need to channel that anger).

Then it gets worse: he dies. She remembers her past with him, and gives back the other half of his soul. And then she turns her back on him for good, cutting ties because their morals are just incompatible. He's so devasted that he takes his own life, no longer immortal because his sorceress abandoned him (just like everyone else did).

But anyways, you figure this out, and basically come barging into his life. Not to make him love you. Not to get her to love him. But to give him something to latch onto.

Let's say Sylus was your favorite in the game (as he is for me, clearly), so you act like a total, batshit crazy, fan girl. And there's something about that crackhead energy that makes him drawn to you.

So you bug him. And bug him. And bug him endlessly. Because even annoyance and anger are better than emptiness and coldness he carries right now. Sure, he hides it well behind snark and flirting, but you know him better. You've watched him from behind a scene for quite some time.

I imagine the reason you're kept around is because of the chaotic nature of who you are and the knowledge you have. And because Sylus doesn't have it in him to give a shit. You're not a threat. If anything, it was the twins that convinced him of your use.

So you live at the base, occassionally witnessing the toxic nature of him and MC's dynamic. And you come up with a plan to help him get over her. Not by making him love you, you'd never be worthy of that, but of getting him to realize that his sorceress is dead. That even it's technically the same the person in soul, she's not the same at her (Aether) core.

Doing so makes you fall even further in love. You discover things about him a simple game could never. You see sights and experience parts of this world that could never captured by a screen or some code. And it hurts.

It hurts because he's more than just a character to you. He cares for you, is soft with you. He buys you things, helps braid your hair, takes you to fancy venues, stands up for you, protects you... You almost think that he loves you.

But that's silly. Who would love you? Who would love the real you, and not the one you present to the world? The one that cries at nothing? The one consumed by anxiety and insecurity? The one that hides under layers and layers of walls capped off by an impenetrable mask? The one that hid herself and changed herself for so many years? The one you're not even sure still exists?

You're such a fraud.

(This whole prompt was inspired by the Webtoon My Derelict Favorite, and I couldn't get it out of my head).

[monzabee]

i desperately need nanny!reader and jealous!hotch. maybe reader have a date (that didn’t end well) and afterwards something happens between her and hotch… i just need something steamy to happen tbh

also how old is nanny!reader according to you?

date night (gone wrong) - a. hotchner

criminal minds masterlist || part of the nanny series

Summary: hotch recruits help to make sure the nanny’s date is not a serial, it’s definitely not because he has feelings for her.

Pairing: aaron hotchner x nanny!reader

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: jealous and posessive aaron (finally), feelings galore, kissing, mentions of a bad date 

Author's Note: thank you so much for your request and i hope you like it!!

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 

Aaron convinces himself that it is for the best. And perhaps, it is. He doesn't need to feel this way—jealous, possessive—but somehow, when he sees you slipping into that dress, he is a goner.  

Black, skintight, and short, it is enough to drive crazy on its own if he were to imagine you in it. But actually see you walk out of his house wearing it? 

It’s a big problem. 

A very specific kind of problem that tightens in his chest and coils low in his gut. 

Jack had run up to hug you goodbye, completely unaware that his father was standing there, stunned silent, jaw locked, and fists clenched just out of your view. You’d looked over your shoulder to say something, he can’t even remember what, but the flash of a smile, the tilt of your head, and the bare expanse of your legs had him swallowing hard. 

“I’ll be back before midnight,” you’d said sweetly, adjusting the strap on your purse. “Try to be good for your dad, okay?” 

He’d barely managed a goodbye. Because how was he supposed to let you go when you were walking out the door looking like that? 

And with him? 

Your date had pulled into the driveway with his engine too loud and his sunglasses still on, even though the sun had set a long time ago. Aaron watched from the window, watched you wave and laugh as you slid into the car, his car, and drove off into the evening. And how could he be sure that he was a good driver? How could he be assured that he wasn’t going to get you in an accident which could end up in you getting hurt? 

So, he told himself it was because he wanted to make sure the man wasn’t a criminal. That it was just protocol. But that excuse thinned out the second he called Garcia to dig up a background check. Just in case. 

And now? Sitting alone in the dark with a glass of scotch he doesn't even want, Aaron realizes the truth: he's never wanted to punch a man more in his life. He’s never also wanted to punch himself more in his life for suggesting that you should try dating other people, but that’s a whole other story.  

He’s still on the couch when the sound of your key in the lock breaks the silence. 

It’s 11:56. 

You step in quietly, slipping off your heels by the door. He hears the faint clink of your purse hitting the entryway table, then the soft shuffle of your feet against the hardwood. 

Aaron doesn’t move. Not until you sigh. 

A quiet, tired, defeated little sound that lodges itself right into his chest. 

You’re in the same dress—minus your heels, and your makeup is smudged in a way that has nothing to do with laughter, passion or good conversation. Your expression is sour, your lips pressed into a line. 

“Hey,” you murmur, as you step into the living room and realize he’s still up. You take a few steps and drop yourself onto the armchair across from the one he’s sitting in. 

His eyes flick up to meet yours. You look… not upset exactly. But not like someone who had a good time either. “Hey,” he echoes, setting his glass down. “You’re early.” 

“Date from hell.” You respond, not choosing to elaborate, since you know he’ll understand just how bad it was from your lack of explanation.  

He doesn’t respond. Not right away. Because part of him is already, shamefully, thrilled.  But the lack of words on your part doesn’t stop him from asking, “What happened?” 

“He was rude to the waitress. Talked about his ex-girlfriend half the night. Called me a babysitter like it was a bad thing. Then he tried to kiss me in the parking lot and got pissy when I didn’t let him.” The shudder that goes through you is enough to send Aaron snapping. 

His jaw clenches so tightly it hurts, and his fingers curl into fists against his thighs. He’s up before he even knows it, crossing the room with a kind of restrained intensity that sets your heart hammering. 

“Did he touch you?” he asks, voice low and dark. Deadly calm. The kind that would make you scared for your life if you didn’t know he’s not capable of hurting you in any way.  

“What? No!” You shake your head, your face scrunched up in disgust. “No. I got in my Uber and left before he could try again.” 

He breathes, but it doesn’t ease the storm behind his eyes. You’ve seen him like this before—when someone threatens Jack. Or when a case hits too close to home. But never over you. 

Never like this. 

“You shouldn’t have to deal with people like that,” he says, and there’s steel in his voice now. “You shouldn’t have to pretend to be interested. You shouldn’t have to settle.” 

You cross your arms—not out of defiance, but to hold yourself together, and it nearly drives Aaron insane because you push up your breasts without even intending to. “I wasn’t settling!” 

His eyes meet yours, sharp and knowing, and he tilts his head to the side in a knowing way. “Weren’t you?” 

You flinch at the honesty of it, at the way it lands squarely in your chest. You’d tried. Tried to date someone nice, someone safe. Someone who wasn’t Aaron. But it had felt wrong the entire night. “You told me to go,” you whisper. “You said I should date other people. That I—” 

“I know what I said,” he cuts in, voice rough. “And I lied. I lied because I thought it was the right thing to do. I thought…” He exhales, running a hand through his hair. “I thought if I wanted what was best for you, it couldn’t be me.” You don’t answer him right away, not knowing how to choose the right words, and he takes it as a sign to continue. “I live a complicated life. I have a son. A demanding job. I don’t always get to come home on time. Sometimes I come home broken. And I thought someone else could give you something easier. Something… simpler.” 

He’s looking at you now like it’s the first time he’s let himself really look. The way you hold yourself. The faint smudge of mascara beneath your eyes. The way your shoulders sag like you’re tired of pretending.  

You feel exposed under his scrutinizing gaze. He is so tall, even when he is sitting down with a drink in his hand. “If I didn’t know any better,” you start, leaning towards him, “I’d say you were jealous.”  

“Do you?” He asks, an inquisitive eyebrow raised, “Know better?” 

Your lips part in a silent shock. “What are you saying right now?” 

“I’m saying I hated watching you walk out that door tonight.” His hand brushes your arm, trails up to your shoulder. “I hated knowing someone else was going to touch you, even just your hand, even for a second.” 

Your breath catches. “You told me to go,” you remind him. 

“I know,” he murmurs. “And it was the biggest mistake I’ve made in a long time.” 

There’s a beat of silence where neither of you move. Then you whisper, “So fix it.” You glance over at him then, the corner of your mouth twitching, something unreadable in your eyes. “You jealous, Aaron?” 

The question hangs there, naked and daring. Kind of like you are, minus the naked part—though you wouldn’t object if he asked you to. 

His eyes meet yours. He doesn’t look away this time. 

“Yes.” It’s quiet. The kind of quiet that prickles under your skin. 

You blink. “Seriously?” 

He nods once, slow. “Painfully.” 

A beat. 

Then you stand up and walk over to him. 

Climb into his lap like it’s the most natural thing in the world. And he lets you. You’re straddling him now, your dress riding up, your palms pressed to his chest. Your legs bracketing his. You’re so close now, so unbearably close, and he realizes just how well you fit together, as if you were always meant to be. 

“I wanted to call you all night,” he admits, voice low and rough. “Wanted to tell you not to go. That I couldn’t stand the idea of someone else making you laugh, touching you, kissing you.” 

Your pulse spikes. Your knees feel unsteady even though you are sitting down on his lap. “And now?” you whisper, barely audible. 

His eyes drop to your lips. Then back up. “Now I’m going to kiss you,” he says, “unless you tell me not to.” 

You don’t. 

You couldn’t even if you tried. 

So, when his mouth finds yours, it’s with months, or maybe a year, of pent-up longing behind it. It’s not gentle. It’s not cautious. 

It’s desperate. And it’s perfect. 

[brittle-doughie]

So- hear me out..

In the beginning Pavlova Cookie lists out each one’s love story and what if he sees that y/n is deep in the pits of their crush for Hollyberry. Would the cookies of the garden try to get them closer together like having them drink together or have their warms baths next to each other to see if the love will blossom or crumble worse than a cookie chained to the bottom of the sea? (Could you add a good and bad ending to the little story too.. if it’s not too difficult of course)

~Cheers, Holly/Mystic Simp <3

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿

“Ah, what a relief. Cookies with the deeper wounds being tended to first, good good….”

“Yeah, we got beat up pretty bad, but I think we’ll be okay…”

“Y/N Cookie!”

Hollyberry Cookie heads over to inspect over your person, sighing in relief when she sees that your wounds aren’t too severe. The contact of her hands touching you causes your heart to jump to your chest!

“H-Hollyberry Cookie?!”

“It’s good to see that you’re still in one piece! I knew those monsters wouldn’t be able to bring you down! Ha!”

“R-right! I’d never want to let you down by crumbling in a fight! You’ve taught me well to let those skills go to waste l!”

“Oh, Y/N Cookie. You could never let me down! It’s always a joy to fight alongside friends!”

“Yep! Got it! I’ll go inspect the others and see if they’re doing good.”

“Okay, but remember! We still need to get going when all of the Cookies have healed!”

“Of course!”

You headed away, but towards a pillar instead of your fellow Cookies. You hide behind it as you now do your best to calm your beating heart.

“Oooh! Do I sense a longing desire for love in YOUR heart?”

“Excuse me?”

Pavlova Cookie had appeared next to you suddenly behind the pillar!

“You have a crying heart, one that aches to be with its other half. Unknowing if that other half will even return your feelings! Ooh, the suspense!”

“You’re not able to read hearts! That was just you playing around!”

“Oh, but I can! You’re so badly in love that anyone can see it, except for your crush though!”

“I’m just…waiting for the right moment, you know?”

“Well, you’re not going to make any progress being all flustered here! How about I try to arrange you two together! See how it goes!”

“No way, I-wait, you’d do that for me?”

“All love needs to find their way, it just needs a little push!”

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿

Pavlova tried all sorts of subtle tricks to try and nudge you and Hollyberry Cookie together, whether that be drinking juice as a pair or even having baths.

He waited behind any sort of cover to see if you or even Hollyberry would make the move. The two of you seemed to like each other’s company, you two shared smiles and laughs between you two. Pavlova was giddy as he held in a noise of excitement, he was about to see love blossom before his very eyes!

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿

It all came down to sitting under the tree, having just gone over one of the many adventures that you and her shared that left Hollyberry Cookie smiling from the thought of it.

“I still can’t believe you did such a crazy thing!”

“Hey! It was either the dragon or me, and it sure wasn’t going to be me no matter how ridiculous it was!”

“You were lucky I had your back there! You could’ve been dragon food!”

“Just part of the job description, my queen.”

“No….that’s not what I want you to do, don’t get yourself crumbled over me.”

“You just mean a lot to me, Hollyberry Cookie. I only wish to make sure you don’t have to get yourself hurt over me.”

“That’s why you should let me protect you! I can handle myself fine! It’s you who isn’t as durable!”

“Please, I’m just another soldier amongst the others!”

“….Not to me.”

That strikes a cord in your heart.

“Hollyberry Cookie….”

“Yes?”

“Do you….?”

“I do care a lot about you and would not like it for you to hurt yourself for me.”

“I know that. But..is that care to the extent of my own?”

“To what extent?”

“Hollyberry Cookie…”

You subtly look around you and you spot Pavlova Cookie hiding far back, excited to see a moment of possible romance blooming! You take a breath and look at Hollyberry Cookie, determined.

“I love you….”

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿

[She Loves Me]

“W-what did you say?!”

“I love you, Hollyberry Cookie! I had for the longest time and I couldn’t hold it in for any longer!”

Hollyberry was taken aback! She wasn’t expecting such a bold confession to her, it lifted her speechless!

“I…don’t know what to say…!”

“If that’s a no, I understand-“

“NO! I’m not saying no! Give me a moment!”

You step back and allow Hollyberry to collect herself.

“If you had warned me before pulling that, I would’ve answered with my own yes sooner!”

“You mean?!”

“That’s right! Come here, my dear Cookie!”

You two meet in a hug as you shared teary laughter with Hollyberry as she spins you around together with her under the tree.

Pavlova Cookie was trying his best to muffle his squealing at the sight of blossomed love.

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿

[She Loves Me Not]

“Oh….”

“Huh?”

“I…love you too. As much as I love all my Cookies! I do not love anyone any more or less than the other!”

“Right! Right….I understand.”

You did understand, but boy, did your heart just shrivel up and die then and there…

Pavlova Cookie froze up, he did not expect that conclusion!

“Y/N Cookie….”

“I’m sorry, I just…need time to process this! I’m sorry!”

“Y/N Cookie! Wait! Come back!”

You ran off as Hollyberry tried to reach out for you, but you were too fast in running away!

Your emotions were in control now as you kept running and into the hedge maze, just trying to find some quiet spot to let out your sorrows.

You picked a little spot with a pillar that you leaned back on, hands in your face as you control your tears.

“Stupid, so stupid! Why did I even say that?! Now what’s she going to think?! Can I even face her again?!”

All this overthinking only made you more upset as you kept yourself together….

“I sensed your broken heart, my love…”

“W-who…?”

“Why, it’s me. The Bringer of Happiness!”

You looked up from your hands to see Eternal Sugar Cookie, her face holding much sympathy as she floated down and kneeling next to you.

“If you need someone right now, I am here for you…”

“No, please…”

“Don’t push me away…it’s okay to let out your feelings to me…I am not going anywhere…”

She even took the first step by scooting close and spreading her wings out to shield you from the world. You gave in and held her close as you wept, Eternal Sugar reciprocating as she brushed your icing hair.

“I’m always here for you….”

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿

[namelessgakusei]

EP. 4.1 Belief and Perception

Devil May Cry x Reader Insert

Warnings: It's DMC. Based on the New Netflix Series. Spoiler warnings for the actual show. Not proofread. Slightly canon divergent.

EP 3.3 And pull the trigger (prev.)

EP 4.2 (TBA)

Synopsis: A recorded message from the White Rabbit tests your relationship with Dante.

"You have to keep this safe, always. You promise?"

"I promise."

"Vergil, do you promise—"

"I promise!"

...

"I'm not sleepy..."

"You're never sleepy. Okay, what story do you want tonight?"

"Tell me about Dad. Do we get to meet him soon?"

"Alright, I'll tell you a story about Dad. But, after that, you have to go to sleep."

Eva looked hesitant for a moment, but soon smiled at the young Dante.

"Your Dad..."

"Son of Sparda."

Dante woke up with a groan, his head feeling like it's been split in two. It didn't helped that he remembered some childhood memories, those before the incident, further contributing to the unpleasant feeling. "Why does my head feel like this?"

"It's a miracle that you can even feel anything." Enzo beams from his left. The broker congratulated him for still being alive despite half his face still being pure muscle, but immediately lamented that they are prisoners once again, with a dozen other people bound on the floor by vein-like appendages that stretch across the walls. You frowned, placed between the two of them, as he tried to discreetly tell Dante that you've been out of it since you woke up.

"So, you did survive the bomb." An unknown voice calls out to the boy. "By his hand, all things are possible." A grey-haired gentleman in a blue two-piece suit smiles knowingly at Dante, making the other scowl as he tries to recall where he first met the guy.

Dante, proud of himself, smirks. "Aren't you the guy in those mattress commercials?"

"That's the vice president." You interjected, eyes closing off with a resigned sigh.

"Oh." Your brows furrowed. He knows that, he should know that, he's not stupid so why would Dante...

You opened one eye and saw his' stealing glances around your direction, before meeting with yours, looking expectant. Is he... trying to cheer you up? He doesn't even know why you're...

The act itself was stupid that it made you huff in amusement, cracking a small smile despite yourself, and Dante seems to be taking it as a win.

The sound of heavy footsteps cuts through your small reverie. "You're awake." The rough voice of the Red Demon scraped in the silence as he grinned down at all the hostages with Dante's sword in tow. His brother trails behind him, relatively calmer, holding up a jewel case. "The White Rabbit left you a message."

Perhaps emboldened by your initial reaction, Dante's mouth kept running with a cocky smirk. "Remind me again who's the Human Torch knockoff and the leaf blower?" You gaped at his brazenness, dumbfounded by the sheer audacity, but who were you to be surprised? This is Dante we're talking about.

It did get him the reaction he wanted, getting his sword pointed at him as the Red Demon seethes. "You sure you want to be insulting us right now?" It's a bit disappointing that they are this easy to rile up, are demons that simple-minded or is it just these two? You look away with a shrug, joining in the mess, "It isn't much of an insult, really." Dante snickers along with you at that.

Before the demon could lose control, his brother gently reminds him of their objective, making the former huff. As the two of them padded to the DVD player, bickering over the correct way to insert a CD, the vice president turned to Dante. "Have you considered what I told you?"

Both you and Dante raise a brow from his question, with the latter glaring as he remembers what Baines said over the speaker a few hours ago. "You mean what you said about my soul being dirty?"

"I said that God may yet redeem you, regardless of your origins."

"Surely you see how he must have a plan for you."

"To bring you back from the brink of death."

You leaned back to the wall, knowing exactly the kind of person the Vice President is: the delusional and dangerous kind, one that will do anything to reach their goal once they laid their eyes on it, regardless of repercussions. He's dead set on trying to get Dante to join his side, regardless of the latter's feelings, all for the name of God. To think this is a leader of America and of DARKCOM... The thought gives you a headache.

Their conversation soon fades to the background, with you not wanting to hear any of it in lieu of your own sanity, as there are bigger problems to deal with than listening to some religious lunatic who has too much power in their hands. Everything's been a mess for the past few hours. This is extremely unlike the kind of situations you previously found yourselves in, and you're supposed to be the person to have a backup plan to save your asses. Now, you're reduced to a helpless civilian who got caught twice due to your own foolishness.

If only your emotions didn't get the better of you that night. If only you didn't jump off the vehicle's roof a few hours earlier. You wouldn't be caught by Lady Arkham. Dante's neck wouldn't have exploded. There won't be any hostages on the plane right now. You were supposed to think ahead, know everything, have the upper hand, but no, you're useless. It's pathetic, but you kept thinking of all the possible scenarios should you have kept your cool.

"This is all my fault."

Enzo tutted at your whisper, scooting closer with a serious expression. "You take that back right now."

Your eyes turned to him first before your head did, shocked and curious, as you've never seen him look like this. Despite his binds, Enzo somehow looks like a stern father. "I know you became like this because you don't want to get hurt again, but you can't possibly have foreseen this much."

His eyes softened as his usual lighthearted expression returned. "Sometimes, you just need to let go and have faith that it all works out."

Your face contrasts his, loss for words from processing his statement. Blind faith? In this age? You need to consider everything to even do something! Else, everything will fall apart and you're left wondering what you did wrong, as you're surrounded by the consequences of your actions. How can he confidently say that like it's nothing? No, looking at him now, he...

"Is that how you survived these kinds of situations before?" You smiled and released a weak laugh. What the hell, sure. Letting loose might not be that bad after all.

Your response seems to satisfy your adoptive father, as he beams. "Heh! Give your old man some credit! I've been in this business long before you surpassed me!" Right, despite his disposition, Enzo's far more experienced than you. ...yeah, despite his personality. "Thanks, Da—"

"Got it!" Agni, the Red Demon, exclaims, as the lone television buzzed to life. On the screen, the White Rabbit appears, looking maniac as usual. "Welcome aboard Air Force Two!"

"We ask that you please pay attention to the screen for an important safety announcement."

"You're all going to die."

Every single hostage, except for those who knew about the world of demons, thrashed around in panic, whimpering for help against their gags. You narrowed your eyes. How will you get killed? Having those two demons kill you all is too much work for an aircraft to get hijacked. If you were meant to die, they could've just picked a random location. A plane crash isn't out of the question, surely the demons could survive that. But Dante's here and being their target, there should be something else in this.

"That is until the son of Sparda can save you."

There it is. The catch. Why this situation? Revenge to Sparda? Or does it have something to do with him being a half-demon? What is it? Think...!

The White Rabbit's words echo at the back of your mind.

He wants Dante to unleash something.

But what? ...His demon self?

Enzo's shrill voice of shock made you flinch, cutting your train of thought. "Son of a what?!"

"God, and just when I started respecting you..." You groaned and leaned your head back.

The White Rabbit's recorded video continues, taunting Dante about his origins and his denial despite the obvious. "Would just any hybrid, the child of some brute and a frail sapien, be able to do the things you can do?" At those words, Dante's face slowly starts to heal back, cementing the fact that his abilities are beyond comprehension. The White Rabbit then revealed the complete pendant, each halves fitting perfectly despite the contrasting colors, taunting Dante with his family’s heirlooms."Why did half of the amulet that Sparda used to seal the rift between realms end up as a piece of your jewelry?" The heirlooms that his mom gave him. The heirlooms that were given to him and Vergil. The only thing that was left of Eva, wrapped around the Rabbit’s neck like he has any right to it.

"The deadbeat father you never met, who abandoned your family without a thought, was the noble and exalted demon knight Sparda."

Dante scoffed. "Right, Sparda. Can you believe this guy?" Nudging you, he expects a similar reaction, but you only pursed your lips. His expression faltered upon that. The silence is enough for the both of you to understand what that meant. The White Rabbit continued after the pause, seemingly knowing that Dante would be replying to his message. He kept ranting on about Dante’s denial and aversion to the truth, someone who’s willing to delude himself and live a lie, rather than accept and take responsibility for his father’s actions. 

"As for that little partner of yours,” You perked up from that, Dante too, as he glared at the video. “Dressed up in white and acting as your inhibitor... are they your replacement brother?" The Rabbit taunts him for being delusional to the point of unconsciously making you fill the role of Vergil in Dante’s “little family”. Needless to say, Dante’s enraged, making him lunge forward, only for the restraints to tighten up around him and pulse with a faint light, seeping out his energy. 

Were you… a replacement for Vergil? Did Dante really think of you like that? But, looking at how much he wants to defend you, you don’t reckon to believe the Rabbit’s words. The recording continued, belittling both Dante and his father; and while you won’t consider the earlier statements to be true, you’re also guilty of using Dante as a “replacement” for your own. 

You two were just lonely children looking for a home on one another, after all.

A clap from the White Rabbit changes the mood of the video like a switch, as his voice becomes chipper, chuckling while he adjusts his collar. “Sorry. Got off a tangent there.”

"The point is, the plane you're on is rigged with explosives, which my men will detonate momentarily." Rudra, the Blue demon, steps forward with a detonator in hand. The sight further frightens the hostages, with some of them now hysterically crying through their binds. “But not to worry, as Sparda’s son, it should be simple for Dante to save you all.”

All eyes landed on the young man, both fearful and expectant, making Dante grin nervously from the pressure.

"I'd bet on it."

taglist!: @mischiefmanaged71 @tamashithe2nd @im-just-a-simp-le-whore @96jnie @flwerie @deathrye @that-dumb-bitch @sleepykittycx @sidewalkenforcer @devil-might-sob @sophrickingfunny

[yuurei20]

Hii!!

Sorry, I don't know if this has been asked before, but are there any mentions of some of the events that happened in the second years' first year?

Other than the entrance ceremony that had been put in the book 7 (which might be the only thing I remember, since it was mentioned in Floyd's dream, I think?), are there any mentions of certain events of their first year?

Hope this wasn't too confusing! Thank you for your hard work~

Hello hello! Thank you for this question! 🏫

Here is a compilation of references to things mentioned about the previous year at NRC! (part 1)

There was too much information for one post, so it has been split into two.

(This account tries to pretend that content that has not reached the Main Story on EN does not exist, so nothing included beyond Book 7-10 m(_ _)m)

Year-One Riddle

Riddle might be the person we have received the most information about when it comes to previous-year information!

Jade mentions Floyd causing "a bit of a stir" at their orientation, and in Beanfest we find out how: he got "blasted" through the air by Riddle after teasing him.

We get more information about what happened in 7-10, with Floyd having grabbed Riddle's hair to say, "It's red, but it ain't hot," resulting in Riddle's violent reaction.

Jamil explains, "I doubt anyone in the sophomore class could forget the scene from that day. Riddle, furiously trying to chase after you while the faculty desperately held him back...Jade, laughing so loudly it echoed through the whole Mirror Chamber...and Azul, acting like he'd never seen you before in his life."

Soon after enrolling, Jade taught Riddle how to tell the difference between him and Floyd depending upon whether or not his hair forms a "J" from the viewer's perspective.

Jade: "Just remember: a highlight on your right makes a J for Jade."

A week into enrolling, Riddle became housewarden of Heartslabyul.

We see a flashback of Riddle after attending what may have been his first Housewarden meeting, complaining about the length and "people pushing work off on each other."

Trey encourages him to "dial it back a little" and Riddle responds "YOU'RE SOFT" and declares that he will be laying down the law.

Riddle gets a blister from wearing heels, to which he is unaccustomed. Vil sees him in the hall and provides him with a bandage.

2nd-year Vil observes, "That boy is a disaster waiting to happen."

Riddle seeks Vil out the next day compensate him for the bandage he'd received.

Six months into Riddle's first year he got caught in the rain and went to Octavinelle to dry off by running laps around a table in the lounge for six hours.

Jade: "Floyd tried to capture it on video, even though he was laughing so hard he couldn't breathe. He must have been highly impressed."

It was also during Riddle's first year as Housewarden that he, Leona and the other Housewardens experimented with a variety of ways to get Malleus to attend their meetings, to no avail.

Leona: "Why should the rest of us put in a ridiculous amount of work when Malleus won't?"

Riddle: "Again, it was I who put in the ridiculous amount of work..."

[softtdaisy]

love is an easy dance / Aaron Hotchner

summary. just you and Hotch celebrating your engagement and how much you love each other

words count. 2 517

what to expect. honestly nothing but love, this is just sweet

a/n. this is heavily inspired by the wedding episode in Dharma & Greg he looked so soft and cute and i thought Hotch deserved his moment too

Aaron Hotchner series masterlist | criminal minds masterlist | F1 masterlist | general masterlist | request

“Oh my god, I feel like I have to congratulate you again.”

You heard Penelope's high-pitched tone in your back right before she wrapped her arms around you. Her chin fell on your shoulder, like it did the other times she came for a hug. You cuddled your head against hers in a laugh, appreciating this new wave of love. 

She had done that four or five times already through the evening. You could blame the alcohol for her very tactile and affectionate behavior. But it would be underestimating Penelope’s capacity to show her love and her happiness for you. And that was without counting the regular congratulations she gave you through the past weeks. 

You still blame the alcohol for some of the things -plurals- she said tonight. You weren’t sure how many times she threatened to run away with you if Hotch wasn’t looking. 

Hotch, who looked at you both with a sweet smile on his face. No words could explain the wholesome feeling he had tonight, watching his now-fiancée receiving so much love from the team. It felt as though you were an integral part of their group. And you were part of this family. His family.

Penelope grabbed your hand, the one you had put on top of hers, to look at your ring again. “Aaron, you really outdid yourself with this one.” 

You smiled, seeing his cheeks take on a pink tone. You two were the only ones to know the story behind the engagement ring you had been wearing for a month already. 

For your anniversary, Hotch offered you a trip to London. No professional engagement, no kid—even though you both missed Jack—just the two of you celebrating your love. And during a walk in town, you noticed the ring in a store. You couldn’t explain it; you weren’t even a jewelry expert. You just saw it in the shop window and felt like it was made for you. But you didn’t tell Hotch until late at night, lying in his arms in the hotel bed. 

“I think I love this ring more than I love you right now,” you remember laughing. Both for your joke and for his kisses down your neck. 

You mostly remember the next hour spent with Hotch doing his best to make sure you would always love him more. And that man truly had more than one trick up his sleeve to make you fall in love with him again. And again. And, oh god, again. 

Yet, this ring stayed on his mind the whole night, and he had to convince you to look at it the next day “so I can know who’s my opponent in your heart.” You loved the way he said that, with his hand in yours, something natural and casual. 

You’ve seen Hotch come back from the field broken and sad so many times that you sometimes forgot that Aaron was still there. A good, funny, and amazing man that was the sun in your life even in your darkest days. 

Next thing, you went to see the ring. A ring that actually cost way too much for a casual buy. A ring that turned out to be an engagement ring—information you missed the first time. 

You knew Aaron was the love of your life, the man you wanted to be with for the rest of your days. Yet, you’ve never talked about getting engaged. You knew enough about his first marriage to not pressure him into another one. 

So you laughed about it, saying something about trying to trap him into marrying you and how he ruined your little game. And for you, the joke was over there.

Little did you know that Hotch never forgot about the ring, also feeling like it was made for you. And that he spent multiple months using his friend in London, Miss Emily Prentiss herself, to get the perfect ring for the woman he loved. Asking her to check the ring, sending rings of yours to get the good measure. Going back to London by himself, just to buy the ring himself. 

One night, after a romantic Friday night together, the ring was around your finger, and the name Hotchner was soon to be yours. 

And tonight, everyone was at Rossi’s house to celebrate your engagement. 

“Who thought Hotch could be a romantic?” Derek joked, which caused your fiancé to roll his eyes at the remark—one he knew he kind of deserved. And you had to fight hard to not answer that you did. They had no idea how full of surprises this man could be. 

Penelope moved from behind your back to stand next to you. “What do you know about romanticism, Derek Morgan?”

This simple question started a whole debate between Penelope and Derek about love and little attention. Mostly based on teasing each other, but that wasn’t a surprise with them. After meeting them, you had to ask Hotch about their relationship, to which he replied with a shrug and an “I’m not sure I can’t tell you much because I’m not even sure I know much.” 

You followed their conversation like a tennis game at first. 

And you would probably have kept doing that for a good moment if you didn’t feel a hand grabbing yours, softly. No matter how many hands you could shake tonight, even with your eyes closed, nothing could ever feel like Hotch’s. 

His hands weren’t the softest—you blamed his work for this. But there was something about the roughness of his skin, the width of his fingers that could cover your hand so easily, the feeling against your skin of the small scars and other marks caused by life in general, or the tenderness he always put in his touch when it was you. Aaron had always been nothing but tender with you.

Especially now, with his fingers intertwined with yours and his thumb caressing the back of your hand so casually, while his little steps guided you away from the conversation and into Rossi’s garden. 

“Are you kidnapping me, Aaron Hotchner?” You asked with a tone that was meant to be serious. But the smile you couldn’t take away from your face tonight was ruining the whole pretense.

Or maybe not. Because Aaron simply replied with the very same tone, one he used for work. One that you heard from him on the phone when he answered with his simple—but very hot—“Hotchner.” One of the many things that convinced you to take his last name.

“Yes, that’s my plan.” He said “Any problem with that?”

“None.”

Aaron turned his head slightly, enough to look at you. And the smile he gave you was just as big and sincere as the one you offered him. In these moments, you couldn’t deny JJ’s words when she said that it felt like love was invented to describe people like you.

You didn’t go far in the backyard. Enough to be alone without anyone seeing you; most of the curtains were pulled anyway. Enough to still hear the music and some of the voices from outside. Enough to have your own bubble, not too far from your friends.

“Good,” Aaron finally replied. He stood in front of you, and you took a moment to appreciate the view of the man you would marry one day.

Hotch was in a suit almost every single day for work. You knew that a part of his brain associated some ties to the awful cases he was on while wearing them. And more than that, the simple thought of wearing a suit—even if he looked absolutely gorgeous in them, your desire knew about that—was linked so tightly with his job that he couldn’t bring himself to wear one tonight.

Yet, he wanted to look good for you. Something Aaron wasn’t speaking about much but that he gave you some snippets of was his fear of not being enough for you. His age, his look, and his attitude sometimes when his job was killing him and he didn’t have the heart to pretend he was fine—something you’ve never expected from him anyway. You had learned that part of the reason he was scared of proposing to you was that he felt like he would trap you in a wedding you didn’t want with a man who wasn't worthy of your love. 

It was an everyday challenge to remind him that you wouldn’t change him in any way.

And so, because of his looks and suits problems—not that you would call that a problem personally—he had a hard time choosing what to wear tonight. He settled on a dark blue shirt with two buttons opened that showed a glimpse of his collarbone and the sleeves rolled up on his forearms—you guessed it was some kind of gift for you and your obsession with his arms. And some dark pants that you bought not long ago after his body changed. 

But to be honest, he could have come in his pajamas, and Aaron Hotchner would still be the most handsome man in the room to you. 

You brought a hand to his neck, caressing his skin, and used it as a shelf to move closer to him and kiss him softly on the lips. You didn’t kiss him enough tonight.

“I had some very persuasive arguments otherwise,” he added against your lips. 

He took a step back, only for his hands to glide down your back. Inviting you to a secret dance only for the two of you. One you didn’t have to share with the others this time.

“Oh, you did, Prosecutor Hotchner?” You replied, your fingers playing with his short hair.

“I haven’t heard that in a long time.” He laughed, being pushed back to decades ago for a second. “But yes, yes I did.” 

But Aaron didn’t give any. Because you didn’t need to hear any of them, you would follow your man to the end of the world just for the sake of seeing the beautiful smile on his face. The BAU was hard on him, and you could honestly count on the fingers of one hand the number of nights he came home with a relaxed expression. Not looking exhausted and, well, broken. 

So to see such a happy expression on him was…relieving. And a good reminder why you loved Aaron so much. Not that you didn’t love the unit chief, but you loved the man underneath more. 

When you started dating, you laughed that you felt like falling in love more and more every day with him. “I’m scared of the day you’ll stop loving me more,” he had replied with a soft smile—again a glimpse of his fear, even if this one was mostly a joke.

“I love you,” you said in a whisper tonight. Looking at Aaron. The way the moonlight was reflecting in his eyes, how he looked so magical tonight. “Still more and more every single day.”

“That’s funny,” he replied, kissing your forehead softly. “I had the exact same thought right now.” He kept giving you kisses, from your temple to your cheek and down to your lips. Tracing a love path on your face.

You got closer to him, cuddling your face in the crook of his neck. Closing your eyes to appreciate his soft and very masculine perfume and the feeling of his hands traveling on your back. And for a moment, you forgot everything. The party, the people inside waiting for you. Yesterday and tomorrow. 

All that mattered was Aaron. All that will always matter was him. 

You felt him move his head, his hair caressing your skin in a soft movement, before his mouth reached your ear. “Promise me that we will always keep loving each other more every day.” 

You waited a second or two, just the moment for your heart to embrace this promise. None of you had any doubt about this. But it was different hearing Aaron ask you for the same thing that was a permanent thought in your head. Reminding you he felt just the same.

But then, after these two seconds—or maybe three—you slowly cup his face between your hands, your thumb softly caressing his cheeks. Before moving your face closer to rub your nose against him. 

“I promise to always love you more every day for the rest of my life, Aaron Hotchner,” you whispered against his lips. 

Sharing a kiss. A simple and brief kiss. That you interrupted to say, “But you kind of ruined the surprise of my wedding vows, you realized that?”

“I plead guilty,” he laughed, his hand meeting your neck so he could keep your face against his to make the kiss last.

And this time you weren’t the one interrupting it.

“Will the two lovebirds honor us with their company?” you heard Rossi say from the opening window in your back.

You jumped at his voice but quickly joined Aaron’s laugh, who cuddled you harder against him like he was trying to protect you. And he was doing that very well, with his muscular arms tight around you. 

His lips met your temples again for a quick kiss before you said, “I think our guests are waiting for us.” 

“Remind me why we didn’t celebrate it alone, only the two of us.” Aaron asked, taking your hand to walk to the door. This became such a natural habit, to walk together with your hands tied, that you felt empty when his palm wasn’t pressed against yours. 

“Because they are our family.”

And you couldn’t even imagine what these simple words meant for him. 

The team was his family; that was for sure. Brothers and sisters, uncles and aunts for Jack—sometimes they were even sons and daughters to him when they needed to be. And Hotch would be lying if he said he appreciated feeling like a father to them from time to time. 

But for you to consider them like your family too—and he knew for sure that the team had adopted you as an active member too—was…something else. Even if he had no doubt that you were the one already. These simple words kept confirming that he wasn’t on the wrong path in choosing you as his wife and a stepmother for Jack.

As an answer to that, Aaron stopped you midway. With your hand still in his, he pulled you against him one last time. The surprise made you trip and fall against his lap in a laugh that resonated in the silent garden. 

His other hand on your neck kept you against him when he whispered, “I love you,” in the most sincere and honest tone you probably ever heard from him. Like it was a need for him to say it, right here and right now. 

But at this point, and he couldn’t care less about sounding like a hopeless romantic, Aaron felt the need to share his love with you every moment you were next to him. And hopefully, you would be by his side for a very long time.

Tag List: @kiwriteswords @monzabee @raysmayhem-72 @kajjaka @pastelpinkflowerlife @winyourheartemma (if you want to be in it, ask me and I’ll be happy to add you x)

[alvestial]

Alpha!Rafe & omega!reader

Synopsis ⋆♱✮♱⋆ nothing much other than introductions and a lil bi of smut ♡

AN ⋆♱✮♱⋆ I saw like one post for this on the tags and was obsessed!! Can’t remember their user tho :(( need more alpha Rafe so here we go

It’s not necessarily that you moved to outer banks looking for an alpha. You’d perhaps heard many great things about the guys there, through friends who’d had first hand experiences with them- but no. You’d moved for a fresh start.

Or at least that’s what you’d tell people. Being your age and not having a mate yet had cast you into the black sheep of your family, most of them turning their noses up at you and casting you out. Even your own parents. So really, you’d moved because of that.

But also because the last time you were here, visiting your friends, you’d met him. Rafe Cameron. The big bad alpha of outer banks who no one wanted to fuck with and no omegas had been able to persuade him to stay with. Yet.

The first time he saw you he looked at you like you were a disease. A repulsive look, almost. But you knew. Knew it was something else, something else behind those eyes that he felt he had to stay away from you.

It intrigued you. You’d asked about, when you first moved, and you’d heard the same story each time.

‘Don’t bother. He fucks and moves on,’ one girl had said, manicured nails stirring her straw in her drink, eyeing you over her sunglasses. Envy was heavy in the air as she spouted on about how he’d fucked her into the night and she’d begged him to mate her, only for him to kick her out then and there at the very implication.

Interesting. When you’d heard about a party being thrown for his birthday, you’d managed to pull a few strings to get yourself in, dressed in a tight black dress and high heels that left next to nothing to the imagination.

You’d met his eyes across the room a few times before he disappeared into the crowd. He seemed livid, something burning in his eyes as he observed you- he remembered you, obviously, from your last encounter. It was joyful. You were truly under his skin.

“You smell absolutely ravishing,” another man, hands grasping up your arm to your shoulder, almost snarled from behind you. Although eye candy, with dark brown hair and deep blue eyes, he was not the one you wanted.

“M’ not interested.” You’d replied, trying to pull away. His fingers latch into your skin, grin creeping up on his features.

“I wasn’t asking if you were. I could have you right here, right now.” His voice sends shivers up your spine, eyes darting around for any signs of help.

“She said she’s not interested.” Another voice. Cold. Calculated. Belonging to him. Rafe. He stands to the side of you, arms crossed against his chest, broad shoulders blocking the light. You’re nothing compared to his height and it almost makes you drool.

The other guy almost cowers, his hand slipping from your shoulder as he apologises and slips into the crowd. Now you’re here, stood in front of Rafe as everyone watches on. He quirks an eyebrow, blonde hair falling down on his face in such a delicious way.

“You have my attention. What now?”

It feels like a fever dream with the way he’s pushing into you. You’re on all fours, dress long gone and discarded on the floor of his bedroom as his hands wrap into your hair, pulling you back.

“Been smelling you all goddamn night. Driving me fucking insane, aren’t you?” You’re so far gone that you can’t even mumble out a reply, gasping when his thumb comes down to your clit to draw tight circles.

“Thought about this since I first saw you. So sweet, so fucking sweet.” His voice is almost gone, coming out in rasps and his cock kisses your cervix, working in tandem with his thumb.

“So good Rafe, so good,” you finally manage, hands scrambling for purchase in the bedsheets. He pulls you up to his front, bicep wrapping around your neck to keep you in place.

“Yeah? Let me fuck you like this? You think about it too, huh?” He squeezes his bicep more, cutting off the oxygen that sends you fully dumb. You nod as best you can, frantically, wishing this would never end.

“Gonna cum, oh god.” Your voice is hoarse, white spots lining your vision that makes Rafe smirk, bicep squeezing that little tighter that makes you cream all over his cock, struggling against him.

“That’s it, good fucking girl. Smell so fucking good, yeah? All for me?” His words send you into orbit, crying out as another wave of an orgasm hits you, arousal squelching out past his thick cock and the knot that’s begun to form.

His teeth graze your neck, bicep leaving your throat to wrap around your waist.

“Sweetest omega I’ve ever smelled. Prettiest too. Gotta have you all to myself, yeah?” You’re nodding again, cunt clenching around him as he swells inside you. He flips you over, back on the bedsheets, his hands coming down either side of you as he fucks his last few pumps into you before stilling, teeth biting down into your neck as he cums.

“Fuck, all mine. All mine, yeah. Forever.” You collapse back fully, nodding, legs shaking as he slowly pulls out from you.

Forever.

AN ⋆♱✮♱⋆ let me know if we want more!! Also if we can find the other account that did this before me pls let me know I’d love to tag for inspiration <3

[echodoctor]

I've noticed a few people take "the Universe leads and we follow" to mean that the Northern Island's spiritual traditions were a more authoritarian kind of faith, similar to something like Catholicism- God hands down decrees and mortals must obey them.

And while that is one way you could interpret that, it's very much not the way I read it when I saw that line.

I do want to preface this by saying I am some extremely white dumbass who knows shit about this secondhand only so please take what I am about to say with not so much as grain as an entire Lot's wife worth of salt, but:

I think the followers of the Universe might have something closer to Taoism going on.

Again, this is something I'm very vague on, but I remember reading that the ideal in Taoism is essentially to be in utter harmony with the natural rhythms of the world around you, effortlessly moving with them instead of desperately struggling against the flow. The world has natural processes: night follows day, decay follows death, the tides come in and out, etc. Understand and accept those processes, and you can float through seemingly effortlessly, because the natural movements of the world are at your back and carrying you forward, instead of something you struggle against.

There's a dynamic that shows up in a lot of classical Chinese stuff between Confucianism (very concerned with things being right and correct and proper) and Taoism, where the Confucian is angrily trying to make everything Work The Way It Should and the Taoist is affectionately teasing the Confucian for getting so worked up, and is having a much easier time because they've accepted the way things already are.

Like, the Confucian walks through a lovely peach grove and keeps getting mad because the trees are shedding leaves all over the path and no one bothered to rake them off, you're supposed to be keeping these paths clear, doesn't anyone do anything around here! The Taoist just has a nice walk and enjoys the peaches, maybe catches a nice ripe tasty fruit right before it falls on the Confucian's head.

I don't think it would be a one-to-one thing, but my personal guess is that the followers of the Universe believed in something similar.

The Universe leads you, in the same way that an ocean current sweeping you out to sea is leading you. That's just the way it is, and you can either struggle against it until you tire yourself out and drown, or you can recognize what's happening and learn how to ride the current to your destination.

This could have both positive aspects (compassion and acceptance towards others, living in peace with the world instead of changing it by violence) and negative ones (sometimes the world really does need to be changed, and you don't just have to accept things that make you miserable instead of working to fix them).

We can see a lot of that negative side in both the King and Siffrin. The King urges the party to be frozen at their happiest moment, because he can't wrap his head around the idea that you could make things even better instead of just being given something and praying you don't lose it. Siffrin falls into the natural rhythm of the script, and doesn't try to fight against what feels the most correct because this is how things are, why would he believe that's something he has the power to change?

(One big difference here is that Taoism also believes that change is one of the fundamental forces, that the world is constantly changing, whereas I think the Followers of the Universe would probably be a kind of narrative foil for the House of Change in canon, just for story purposes.)

(Sometimes things need to change, and sometimes you need to accept them. A healthier outlook probably finds a good balance of both.)

When the Change God tells Siffrin that his god "will never really talk to you", I wonder if a follower of the Universe who remembered more about their beliefs could have argued back that their god never stops speaking?

Through the flight of birds, the movement of clouds, the beating of your own heart- the Universe is speaking all the time. To live is to be in constant conversation with it.

It's fun and all the think the universe is being mean to Loop and Siffrin but tbh I like to think the universe is more apathetic than actively malicious. Real "a universe that doesn't care but people do" type of deal.

The universe is hard to grasp or even personify. According to the change god the universe can't even talk to its followers. It's so massive and incomprehensible it just can't.

Like... imagine you had to do something for one of the like octillion atoms that make up your body. You don't know this thing, you don't know it's situation, not really. It's kinda hard to pay attention when you're busy being... well perpetual existence. But it becomes just loud enough to hear. Hurts just enough to feel. But instead of squashing this thing like a bug you give it a crumb and simply move on.

But that also makes the whole "The universe leads and we must follow" philosophy very hilarious. Like the universe does NOT know what the little specks on this single planet are doing just like we don't notice how our cells move around in our body.

The universe isn't leading shit. It's giving you the tools to do it yourself. It's like when you ask your mom to drive you somewhere and she just hands you the keys and says don't wreck the car, except this "mom" doesn't comprehend that its kids aren't even old enough to drive (aka can't handle godly powers like timecraft)

[leftpoetrymoon]

Threads of fate (part 3)

Pairings:- Xavier x reader (non-mc)

Genre:- angst, slight fluff

How could he have been so blind? How could he have not noticed you? It was supposed to be his last spring on earth. But because of you, he became immortal again. Why do you have to be this good? Because of his blindness he lost you again.

He accepted his fate when he and his crewmates accidentally arrived at earth 214 years ago. He lived and lived until his crewmates gone mad and turned into wanderers. It hurts him so much when they asked to him to kill them to free themself from being wanderes. He became the last person of Philos.

Amidst all of that he tried so hard to save his planet and you. He desperately searched for the cure at earth. But he couldn't. It was like the universe is trying so hard to make him more miserable than he already was. Just like that years went by, but he still clung on to the memories of you.

He remembers your face, your lips when you smile, the sparks in your eyes when you spot a stray cat, and the rosy cheeks of yours that he likes to poke all the time. Your'e the only one who saw him as Xavier instead of the crown prince of Philos.

He remembers the day how he met you. Both of you were at the same class. You were a new student at that time. He noticed how you look tired always. But nevertheless you always wear a warm smile. At first, he didn't think about you that much. But, when you were became his partner for the group project.... and that's when he started to notice more than he thought.

When you saw him for the first time, you slightly got intimidated by him. why?, because he was practically drilling holes on your head. That was from your point of view. Do you know more interesting is? he was your seatmate during the whole semester. Slowly you walked pass your classmates and sat next to him. Maybe, that's when he started falling for you.

As days went by you get to know him more and more. Even though he sleeps all of his classes he was the one who always got first rank in the whole school which was shocking for you. I mean, everyone sleeps during their classes and get failed. right?. Maybe he was built different. Your bond with him started to get more stronger when he became your tutor.

You  two should thank your teacher for that.

"You do know the formula for this equation right?" he looked at you expecting to nod your head. You two were at the library for the upcoming test, and he's trying so hard to teach you maths. But you were staring blankly at him. "Um.... it's the sin formula right?". He took a deep breath and looked at you. You know what the look means.

"I think we should start from the basics y/n. I understand trigonometry is very, very hard for you. So we need to spend more time on this. Since, tomorrow is sunday, we should study tomorrow too."

You looked at him with wide eyes, "Ok... i understand. You can come to my house tomorrow morning." Deep in your heart you were screaming because you invited him to your house. who the hell won't be happy when their crush is coming to their house?

Xavier can't believe his ears. You invited him to your house? he nearly smiled but controlled himself. " I'll come tomorrow to your home then." Looks like a sweet love story right? that'll have a happy ending right?. But not for now.

Just like that your days with him become more meaningful day by day. Both of you slowly started to fall each other without even knowing. Your mother started to notice that you become more cheerful day by day. That's when your heart started to hurt more and more each passing day. Your mother admitted you to the hospital on the following day.

You know that your'e going to die soon. Even the doctors said that your'e in the final stage. Your mother tried so hard toa arrange another surgery for you, but the doctor said that your body won't handle it anymore. You stopped going to school for a week. Only Xavier noticed that something was wrong.

To his surprise you came to school the next day. When you both were assigned to clean the classroom you asked him a request. "Xavier, you know the meteor shower is going to happen in two weeks! I've only heard about it.... can you see it with me?". He looked at you curiously, because the meteor shower is normal for Philos and it happens once in every 100 years. But you look like you've never seen such a thing.

"Y/n, don' t you see the meteor shower once in every 100 years? Don't tell me youv'e never seen a metor shower!?". You looked at up him and laughed because he looked like a clueless hamster. "I'm not immortal like you Xavier." He looked at you with confusion written all over his face. You sat beside him and mentally patted yourself for going to say the truth about you.

"Xavier.. i'm not like everyone else. i know what i'm saying is really confusing to you. I have a protocore syndrome disease that means i can only live for 100 years like a normal human being. You know what that means right? It means i'm not immortal like you. And i'm going to die in two weeks.. yes, the day when meteor shower is going to happen..."

Xavier can't believe what is happening right now. Your'e going to die? that to  in two weeks? This has to be a joke right? But your eyes are filled with sadness... Is he not allowed to be happy? he looked like he was about to cry. He held your cheeks and tilted your head up. he pressed his forehead against you and closed his eyes.

"I really want to tell that your'e lying and your'e not going to die... But your eyes are making me realise that it's the truth. I promise i will find a way to save you." You laughed at his words but nodded your head. "Okay Xavier.. i will believe your words."

Xavier still remembers how hard he tried to find a cure for you. But all of his efforts went to waste. He remembers how you smiled at him and told him that everything is going to ok whe you were on the verge of death. you slowly caressed his cheek and laid your head on his chest and watched the meteor shower with him. He didn't cry until you stopped breathing.

He looked down at your face with tears in his eyes. For a minute he believed that you were just sleeping, because you looked so peaceful. "I promise, i'll find you in every lifetime".

How could he forget the promise he made for you? he didn't forget the promise at your second life. But nothing changed at that time too. He hates the fact that youv'e willingly sacrificed your life for the planet. why does it always have to be you?

But he didn't know that you know about your past life. You always noticed that he keeps the star tassel around him no matter the circumstances. His blue eyes lit up whenever he came back from a mission to see you waving at him. "Xavier! look here!" he easily spotted you in the middle of the crowd and run towards you.

He grabbed your hand and teleported you both to the starfall forest. "Xavier, I missed you so much! why does your mission have to be this long?". He pulled you towards his lap and hugged you tightly like he was afraid that you'll disappear if he let go of you. "Just stay like this....." You pulled back slightly and looked at his face. when you saw his troubled expression, you know something is wrong.

He held your cheeks with both of his hands and kissed you tenderly. You were caught off guard but quickly responded to the kiss with the same intensity. At first the kiss was so gentle but it soon becomes rough. His grip on your waist become more intense and his other hand gripped your hair tightly. He forced his tongue into your mouth and kissed every corner of it.

You broke the kiss first and managed to catch your breath. He tried to chase your lips again but you grabbed his face and looked at him. "Xavier? what's going on?". Oh boy, how he hates that you read his expression so easily. He knows that he can't hide you the reason forever.

"You noticed that my missions are becoming more and more longer right?." You looked at him and nodded your head. You noticed the difference because his missions are taking more time whic raised your suspicion. "Please don't hide anything from me Xavier..." "Y/n, Philos is slowly dying.. and after trying to find the cure the royal family declared that only you can save the planet by using the aether core on your heart"

  You know this would happen eventually because in your first life you heard rumours that Philos was slowly dying from the inside since it's core got destroyed and the royal family was the reason.. But you didn't know that the rumour was real. And you know that the royal family is asking you to be the sacrifice for the planet.

Xavier shaked your shoulders gently which made you snapped out of your thoughts. "Y/n? are you all right?". You looked at him and nodded your head, "I'm all right Xavier... so, what is the royal family going to do to me?". Don't you know y/n what they are going to do? They'll make you the queen for the public image but... in reality your'e a sacrifice. You are the food for the planet. To save Philos your'e going to sacrifice yourself again. why do you always want to suffer?

Xavier went silent. You know why he became silent. Because even if he lies that you don't need to do anything he knows what's going to happen. You looked at your beautiful and gentle lover. He was the most handsome man youv'e ever laid your eyes upon. so, how can you look at the sad expression on his face?

You held his cheeks and turned his face towards you. You saw the pouty expression on his face. He looked like a cute hamster. You pinched his cheeks which made him blush. "Stop doing that.... you know i hate when you do that.." But the blush on his ears told you otherwise. You grinned at him and kissed his cheeks, " I love you Xavier... always and forever. Even if i get reborn again and again, remember this your'e the only one for me. Alright?"

He looked at you for a while and then laughed. "Alright then, that's a promise y/n." You laid your head on his chest and closed your eyes and fell into a deep sleep. Xavier looked down at you and got startled for a second. You looked the same like that day at the starfall forest when you died at his arms. He removed a strand of hair from your face and caressed your cheeks. Your'e warm. Your'e warm and still alive..

He leaned down and kissed your forehead and hugged you tightly. No matter what it takes he will save you this time. He won't let you be the sacrifice. he won't lose you not again. he can't. But who are we to defy fate?

You became the queen of Philos. And Xavier? he explored every planet to find a cure to restore the planet, but he can't find anything. His people slowly started to become wanderers. He know the only way was to kill them. What can he do? he had no choice. He fell to his knees and looked at the bloodshed path he just created. He killed his own people... his own comrades.. the one who he shared food, friendship, stories...

He may look strong and fearless, but inside he's just a boy who's scared of his own shadow. He wants to be happy just for once.

Xavier went on another mission. You remembered his words the night before your coronation. "Y/n, during my exploration i found a beautiful planet full of flowers... It looked so etheral, you'll definitely love it. I named it Uluru it will be our little planet, Maybe after your coronation shall we visit it together?"

He held your hands and squeezed it gently and waited for your answer. It pained his heart to see how tired you look sacrificing yourself for others. For once he wanted you to look at him and smile at him without any worries in your eyes.

"Xavier, of course... i'll go wherever with you, i'll definitely come with you to visit the planet you've found..."

As much as you want to sound cheerful your soul and your body is both physically and mentally damaged because of the energy that was draining out of you by the planet. You caressed his cheek and smiled at him knowing that he will worry about your health.

Sighing to himself, Xavier took both of your hands and placed it on his cheeks "I... i don't want you to suffer anymore y/n... let's run away to Uluru! the planet i've been talking. You don't need to become the queen! You don't need to become the queen! You don't need to sacrifice yourself! Please... Just listen to me once..."

You should've listened to his words y/n... Tears fell down from your eyes and you cried loudly. You miss him. You want him to hold you again. To see his smile once more. How?

You lost your star.

Xavier knows that Philos is dead. That means you too. It's been 214 years without you. It was his last spring at earth. He looked at the sky and saw the clear sky. So pretty. It reminded you. He joined as a hunter 4 years ago and became top of the association. He also brought a dream catcher that looked like the one you asked. He brought so many things that reminded of you.

That's when she came. He didn't know what happened but he felt like he forgot everything about you. Everytime he tried to remember something or... someone blocked his mind. That's when he started to pay attention to her. His mind told him that she was the one he had been searching. But something felt wrong.

And you?. Utterly heartbroken. So you decided to erase your existence. Xavier rushed to you apartment and knocked at your door multiple times but no one answered. He nearly kicked the door when the landlord came to see was the commotion about. "Boy! what are you doing!?" Xavier looked at him with wide eyes. "Mister. Where is the girl that has been staying here?"

The owner scratched his head and looked at him confused. "What are you talking about boy? The place has been vacant for 6 months. See even the door is open." Xavier barged in to find you but it was empty. No furniture. No one was there.

Xavier walked through the busy streets of Linkon. He was lost in thoughts. Where were you? You were just there yesterday. He knows that he went on a mission with you previous week. He knows that Tara was the one who recommended you to Jenna. Then why is everyone acting like you didn't exist?

He opened his apartment and find MC sitting at the couch. She looked at him and smiled. "Xavier! where have you been? I was waiting for you the whole day!." Oh boy, it felt so wrong to stand with her in the same room. So wrong. She walked up to him and hugged him tightly. He stood there frozen. He can't bring himself to hug her back.

He gently pushed her away and looked at her. "Mc, go back to your apartment and don't come to my house without my permission again." She looked up at him with confused eyes. "What are you talking about Xavier? You've always let me go to your apartment without asking you-" "Mc. Do you know where is y/n?."

He quickly noticed the shock in her eyes before she hid it. His instinct tells him that she knows her. "What? you remember her?!" She suddenly screamed at him which made his eyes widen in surprise. Why is she shouting like she knows about his forgotten memory of his star?. He grabbed her shoulders and looked at her with rage in his eyes. "What do you mean by that? everyone already forgot her except me and you. Tell me were you the reason behind her disappearance?!"

She pushed him away and laughed like a maniac. "Ofcourse you remember her! Why do you have to remember her now Xavier? she's gone. She's fucking gone! Cant't you just look at me?!" She grabbed his collar and looked at him with pure obsessison. Xavier can't believe what is happening right now. She's gone? that cant't be right?.... no no! She'e can't. He will find her even if she don't remember.

Xavier's patience got snapped. He tried to push her away but she didn't bulge. "You planned everything with that brother of yours right? Let me tell you one thing Mc. The thread that links both her and me is strong and ancient. Which means, she'll eventually come to me again." She looked at him and slowly let go of his shoulders and walked out.

Two days later, Xavier went back to the association to his surprise Mc was not there. It was like she vanished without a trace. Xavier become a solo again. He looked at his hand and saw the thread but the end was so far. He don't talk to anyone. He started to live quietly with the memories of yours just like before.

He went out of the house at night silently wearing only a hoodie. He looked up at the sky and gazed at the stars. He remembers that you stargazed with him when you were both students at Philos. It was supposed to be his last spring on earth but, because of you he became immortal again.

He went to a cafe and sat on a chair. To his surprise there were no staff. Suddenly the light started to dim and his phone rang. He picked up and saw you. You looked different. You were grinning at him like you know him. "Wahh! Xavier looks so cute!" He started to blush by your words.

He can't understand what is happening. He walked into the destiny cafe and saw you on the phone.

What the hell is happening?

Tag list:- @jihae222 @corvid007 @an-ever-angry-bi @lunia-likes-pomegranet @koojunweh @brailsthesmolgurl @nezuswritingdesk @umiwu @silverianni @sylusgirlie7 @llamabois @hihe @celestesuyls @browneyedgirl22 @sabage101 @ourgoddessathena @poptrim @satansthiccasscheeksreblogacc @blaire123 @zeynatura @soobinloveclub @akiralimeheart @vspxriddles @justpassingdontworry @eialovescats @crazygirl3001 @bri3423 @alyssac9 @chocochip-gaia @needsumcomfypillowstosleep @floofycookie

[torchlitinthedesert]

Charley Foxx, Paul McCartney and Stevie Wonder at the Scotch of St James club, 1966.

“When on tour I have to write essays about the places I visit. In the essay I’ll be writing when I get back I’ll certainly include my meeting with Paul McCartney. I met him in the Scotch Of St James club. He’s a really swinging guy, the only Beatle I’ve met.”

15-year-old Stevie Wonder, NME, 18 February, 1966

“None of the Beatles was on hand for Stevie’s show at the Cavern, but Paul McCartney came to a show we did in London. After the final set, Stevie, Paul, Clarence [Paul, Stevie’s producer] and I sat around acting like a proverbial mutual admiration society - Paul going on and on about how the Beatles loved rhythm and blues and how they all admired Stevie’s music and the Motown sound; the rest of us quizzing him about the “Fab Four”. it was the only time in all my years of working alongside the greatest singers and musicians in the world that I ever asked for an autograph, which earned me major points with my sisters Joan and Diane.”

Ted Hull (Stevie’s tutor), The Wonder Years: my life and times with Stevie Wonder, 2000

Braille message for Stevie (“We love you baby”) on the cover of Wings’ 1973 album Red Rose Speedway.

On the first night of recording, who should turn up at the studio door but Paul and Linda. It was the first time since the Beatles had broken up that John and Paul had been in the same room…They play. With Paul on drums, in the absence of Ringo and Keith Moon that night, and John picking up his guitar, soon to be joined by Stevie Wonder, they went into a jam of ‘Midnight Special’.

Ray Connolly, Being John Lennon A Restless Life

“I’ve always been an admirer from the early days when we first heard him as ‘Little’ Stevie Wonder with ‘Fingertips’. Then I met him on and off [for a few years] and went to his shows. Eventually, I asked him if we could record together ‘Ebony and Ivory’. I spent some time with him in Montserrat to make that record... He’s such a musical monster. You sit down with him at the piano immediately he’s off. I know some of his old stories so I can joke with him and take the mickey. He was originally ‘Steveland Morris’ and he was in a little blind school in Detroit. He was just one of the blind kids who happened to be musically gifted. He went to Motown to make ‘Fingertips’ and then he was famous. He came back as ‘Little Stevie Wonder’. So he once told me all the blind kids in the school used to call him [adopts mocking tone] ‘Wundurr’. They didn’t like him and were jealous of him. So now when I see him and if we pass in the corridor I say ‘Wundurr’ and he immediately knows it’s Paul.”

Paul McCartney, GQ Magazine, November 2012

Stevie and Paul in Montserrat, working on Tug of War, 1981.

“But, you know, he’s such a fantastic person to work with that you just go along with it. He’s worth it! He may not always show up when he says he will. Maybe he has got to finish this other album he’s doing, whatever. You just have to make a lot of allowances. He’s such a great musician. It’s all fine, in the end. When he eventually got there and started working, it was perfect. I thought, ‘Oh God, everything he does is perfect.’ I’m talking about even handclaps here… you know, just handclaps. I remember being just a little bit out on the handclaps. We were round a mic clapping, and he just went, ‘Hey Paul, stop! Hey man, you’re not in the pocket!’ And I’m going, ‘Okay, alright, I’m not in the pocket! Let’s get it in the pocket.’ On the Beatles records we weren’t that precise with handclaps! ‘In the pocket’ means being exactly on the beat. So Stevie is saying, ‘You’re not in the pocket, man!’ and I’m going, ‘Oh shit! Okay, let’s get it right!’ So we just worked at it until we got it. He’s very much the perfectionist.”

Paul McCartney, Tug of War Archive Collection, 2015

“Stevie came along to the studio in LA and he listened to the track for about ten minutes and he totally got it. He just went to the mic and within 20 minutes had nailed this dynamite solo. When you listen you just think, ‘How do you come up with that?’ But it’s just because he is a genius, that’s why.”

Paul on recording Only Our Hearts with Stevie in 2011.

Paul and Stevie during mixing for Kisses on the Bottom, 15 November 2011 source

[matchalovertrait]

At Antonio's office, Dulce asked for help with a shared custody agreement for Cosi between her and Caruso. Antonio found the idea absurd, but he wanted to make her happy. He drew up a contract that worked entirely in Dulce's favor and could be terminated at any time. It's Caruso- and Isabela-proof.

Dulce and Caruso believe this arrangement could work out long-term despite their complicated history. Cosi is relatively chill, and it would be nice to travel without always finding a sitter for her.

NOTE: Of course agreements like this often don't work out in the real world, but this is the route we're going! Don't worry, Cosi will be perfectly happy and okay. I promise <3

NOTE: Shout out to @authorspirit who was hoping for an agreement like this! It's like you read my notes with ideas 😂 I was itching to finally get to this post and publish it.

NOTE: Of course, Buttercups is from @abbysimsfun's Sims in Bloom story! Antonio, "the lawyer," was in this post.

Start from the beginning (Gen 2)

Previous | Next

Transcript

The Caruso Residence

[Caruso gently picked up Cosi as she wagged her tail.]

CARUSO: Hey, Cosi. I missed you, too.

[He laughed softly, as if in disbelief.]

CARUSO: I thought maybe you would have forgotten me by now.

DULCE: Remember, I can end the agreement at any time. If we see that switching between houses is hurting her, then we’ll forget about everything.

CARUSO: Yup!

DULCE: Also, don’t forget: if she spins around counterclockwise, that means she ran out of water. And if she’s barking at 10 PM-

CARUSO: -it’s because she’s telling you it’s her bedtime and needs complete darkness. I know. Alegría, you’re acting like I never took care of her. C’mon.

DULCE: I know, my bad.

???: Excuse me.

DULCE: Who is that?

CARUSO: Because of the compensatory damages, legal fees, and brib- I mean, and my dwindling subscriber count, I can’t afford this ginormous house that I bought on a whim. So, I had to rent out the other bedrooms. It’s all good.

DULCE: Why not sell the house instead, genius?

CARUSO: No way! I already got attached to it.

DULCE: I guess that’s fair. It is a nice place.

CARUSO: Yeah, you would know, wouldn’t you?

DULCE: Take the compliment.

[“And shut up,” she wanted to add.]

DULCE: ....I’m happy for you?

CARUSO: Thank you.

DULCE: Never mind, I take that back! I’m not convinced. I know you’ll never do anything to Cosi or use her against me, but I have to keep my eye on you. You’re a wild card.

CARUSO: Seriously?? Okay, fine. I’ll formally apologize for everything.

DULCE: Fantastic, I’d love that.

CARUSO: Hold on, I’m trying.

DULCE: ...

CARUSO: Any second now.

[“Oh my gosh, he’s full of crap!” she thought.]

DULCE: Ahem... Well... As I’ve learned, an apology without real change is meaningless. So if you can’t say one, I hope you at least turn things around, Caruso.

CARUSO: I’m sensing angry energy from you. Do you want to try some breathing exercises that I learned on the retreat?

DULCE: I’m fine.

DULCE: By the way, the lawyer went to a wedding, and he met the family that owns Buttercups. Pretty cool, right?

CARUSO: Really? Wow!

DULCE: Besides the PI info, he also got their contact info in case Cosi wants to do a commercial. What do you think? Since you’re her other parent.

CARUSO: Sounds good to me. She’ll be a star!

DULCE: I’ll go now. Bye-bye, Cosi. I’ll see you soon. Be good – or not. Give this guy hell for all I care.

[batchilla]

Chapter Three: Dread and Despair

Before we start a quick note: while the story loosely follows the events of the leaping into the light series, I am playing with the timeline because otherwise it would be a series longer than what I am really able to commit to at this stage in my life. So things are happening in a faster timeline and occasionally in a different order. You’ll work it out. I trust you.  Also if anyone wants to complain about how long this update took you I will politely remind you I was HIT BY A CAR TWICE between updates. 

You're starting to get worried, because Dick’s not at work. He’s never late, to the point of annoyance. You find yourself checking one of the more reliable Nightwing watching twitter accounts, but find nothing. He hadn’t even been active last night. 

Over the last week, you’d been slowly yet steadily collecting evidence. You’d done your best to be impartial towards James. But you had found cause for suspicion. He had arrived the day the file was moved. He knew people in high places, as evidenced by his promotion. But he wasn’t your only suspect. Honestly, finding a corrupt cop wasn’t hard in Bludhaven. It was finding the right one, who was the correct needle in a massive stack of needles instead of hay. You look around the break room, where Dick’s lunchbox of horrifically sweet snacks isn’t in the fridge, out at the dividing glass into the bullpen as you make yourself a sandwich. 

Your captain would have unquestioned access. He had little care for Buldhaven’s homeless population, but catching a suspected serial killer would be a feather in his cap and a ticket to an early retirement. A beat cop could have snuck in and done it. Less power, but they could have been bought or blackmailed. So could anyone, really. You’d been sifting through the entire department. Last time you saw him as Nightwing you had gone a little too far. Taken up too much of the time you had with your little false accusation prank. Not to mention, he had not taken it particularly well. Over the last week, he’d gone out of his way to be helpful to you. When you’d asked him for a favour, he’d been strangely intense. Grabbed your shoulders and told you he’d never let you down. So clearly, righting your perception of him was something he was desperate to do. You occasionally felt bad about it all. Then you remembered he’d called himself Richard bloody Grerson to your face and expected it to work, and were annoyed enough to let go of the guilt. 

Grerson. Did he think you were an idiot? 

How the hell has he maintained a secret identity up to this point? Fucking Grerson. You finished making your sandwich and sat back down at your desk, trying to act as if nothing was wrong and you weren’t so worried you felt like you might cry. You almost envied the time when you hadn’t known. You’d assume he’d been out late, or he was sick. 

Now you knew, and you were worried that he’d been murdered, or he’d missed a grapple and was lying in some alleyway all alone and in pain. You're so busy worrying about Dick that you don’t even notice when someone occupies his seat. “Hey.” You look up. Sitting across from you is Officer Rodwell. 

She’s a wiry woman. Curly hair in a messy bun, kind eyes, deep brown skin and an overall soothing presence. She looks exhausted. You know the feeling. She looks scared, and you know why. You are too. “He's back.” she says, fiddling with one of Dick’s many desk toys, a newton's cradle, full of nervous energy. “He’s back.” you agree, resting your chin on your hand, holding your fingers over your mouth. “Honestly soon as he came back I felt like I was an idiot for not seeing it coming.” you admit. “Same.” Janet says, shaking her head. “If he tries anything… I’ll watch your back if you watch mine.” she says, and you nod. “Of course, Janet.” your agreement is immediate. But your concerns run deeper. You would help, you meant that. You just didn’t know if it would matter. “Might happen sooner rather than later, Captain Leo has asked to see me in his office at 12.” You furrow your brow and pull open your calendar. “Well, look at you Ms Priority, he doesn’t want me till 12:30.” The invitation glows menacingly, lingering in your mind's eye even as you close the tab.  “What do you expect it’ll be about? How he’s sorry Mc Elroy came back and he won’t let him get up to his old shit?” Janet snorts. “That’d be lovely. Also, he’ll tell me I can take the detectives exam early.” You hum. “Well… guess there’s not long to wait.” It’s not, objectively. Subjectively? It feels like an eternity until you are called into your captain’s office. You only catch the last few words of what Captain Harrison says to Rodwell as the door shuts “...and give my best wishes to your son, eh? We’re all thinking of him. I’m sure the insurance will pull through.” You exchange a tight smile, a nod, and brush past her into the office. 

Captain Harrison took care of his officers. That was not an endorsement. To him, the thin blue was a religious idol. He covered up whatever he deemed necessary as part of the benefits of the job, looked away and denied the most egregious acts committed by those reporting to him. He’d never forgiven you for taking the Mc Elroy incident further than his precinct, but while he’d make your life hell with the worst assignments, he would probably cover it up if you shot a kid. Pig. He grins at you as you slip into the seat across from him. Says your name with a warmness you resent from a man like him. “You wanted to see me Captain?” “Yes, yes, no need to look nervous. I just wanted to be sure that the Sargent has been behaving himself?” You bristle. Yes, in your one, supervised interaction, he had not committed a reportable offence. “Why would you think he wouldn’t be?” is your deflection. 

He taps his hands against the desk in lighthearted annoyance at Mc Elroy you know he doesn’t truly feel. 

“So defensive. Look, you're the best gal in my bullpen-” you are the best in his bullpen. Second to Grayson maybe. It’s hard to be sure given he cheats with his connections. “But while what he said wasn’t on, Me too, I’m with her, and all that, when we can’t present a united front, well, it emboldens the scum.”

Disagreeing at this moment will make everything worse for you, and for Rodwell. So you present a united front. Nod and pick your battles. You hate yourself for it. But you hadn’t joined the force with the intention to fix it from the inside, because you can’t. The rot is too deep for that. You joined in the hopes that you could help a few people. Every case that comes across your desk is in the hands of someone who cares, rather than the Mc Elroys and Harrisons of the force, and that's the best you can do. 

“But, all's well that ends well. So long as you keep your head down, I can see you getting a similar promotion in the not so distant future. Even with this terrible Grayson business.”

This whole time your heart has been teasing at moving into your throat, and now, finally, it has. 

“What?” You croak, as the office fades away and you are blinded by dread. “I mean to say, the announcement he made this morning is a nice idea-” Announcement? What… oh. Dick had done something. You, for all your thoroughness in investigating Nightwing, you’d neglected the other half. “Heaven, or whatever high handed title he gave his project… Really, he should have gone into social work if he wanted to be so soft about these things. You, I at least get, you like the puzzles and the solving, him? No clue why he wanted the badge.” Your tongue is too big for your mouth and too heavy to speak with. 

“I’m a little out of the loop,” you admit. “Has something happened?” “Well, if we do need to assign you a new partner, I hope you keep a closer eye on him, eh? Yes. As far as I know he’s alive, but I'm afraid someone’s put a price on his head.” You are on your feet in a second. “Who? Why?” Badge on your belt - check. “Who, I can’t say. Sufficient enough sum that it could only be a few people. He announced some hippy bullshit save bludhaven project. Re- vamping that tent city those kids hideout in to be something decent or some such…best guess blockbuster didn’t like that. I sent out an order to bring him into protective custody.”

Gun on your hip - Check. Hopefully you wouldn’t need it, but things could get ugly if someone had gotten to him by the time you caught up.

You're leaning over the desk, close enough to see Captain Harrisons pores and smell the tuna salad he had for lunch. “Rescind it.” You say all too quickly, racing the part of your brain that wants you blindly running into Bludhavens streets to get to him. You needed to stay calm. Reasonable. You aren’t a vigilante, you can’t run into the danger head first. You need a plan, and you don’t have a secret identity to carry it out as. Harrison knew what would happen if Dick came into protective custody. He’d have some tragic accident. Something would go ‘wrong’, and he would be dead, a fish in a barrel. He knew and he would let it happen, because unlike you, Dick was too good to bite back the bile and keep his head down. He’d made one too many waves and he was being left to his fate. 

“I’ll get him.” You leave no room for argument. “No need to waste the resources. He listens to me. I’ll make sure he’s safe.” And you're off, out the door. Across the bullpen. Out of the precinct. As fast as your feet, and then your patrol car, will carry you.

You go out too fast. You don’t see it. The eyes on you. The person taking information on your partner, Grayson, and giving it to the heartless killer out of desperation. You don’t see it, and Dick hasn’t seen it yet either. But someone does. Someone with a vested interest in anything Richard Grayson had to lose. And now, they know he has you. Can lose you. 

It’s a pity. You are liked. But when a child is in need of a heart transplant and has been denied, horror befall those who would underestimate a mothers desperation. 

Captain Harrison took care of his detectives. His uniformed officers less so. Allowed to bear the brunt of the consequences of crossing Mc Elroy, Officer Janet Rodwell had been left alone against the hate. 

Fucked over by Shel Pharmacuticals when her son needed a new heart, and offered a solution by a monster, which, with no where else to turn, she took. 

Her boy needed a new heart, and to ensure that… she’d help tear Grayson down, if she had to. 

His partner… it was a pity they were so close. Perhaps if they hadn’t been, she could have been spared. Collateral is a leading cause of death in Bludhaven, and surely she will join them. Pity indeed. 

You had made it to his apartment. Made it just in time to see it burn to the ground. He helped with the evacuation. Of course he did, that wonderful fool. You wouldn’t change that, wouldn’t hope otherwise, because to do anything else would not have been him. There were no other casualties. A miracle, some think. Richard Grayson, you know. You just wished he’d made it out. He probably did, you tell yourself. Probably he’s up in the justice league's space satellite or the batcave or something insane. Because if he is alive, he surely made the call to get out of Bludhaven. At least for now. 

But you put the wingding in the window anyway. And you get to work. Take away containers pile up and mold over, and you work. Your clothes feel like cardboard, and you work. The smell, the fact that you haven’t left your apartment in days, and the general aura of despair you must be radiating causes three neighbours to come and check if you’re alive. 

You’re pretty sure you get fired at some point. Not ideal, but you can get your job back. Say you were in mourning or something. You might be. He’s been gone so long now. You’d figured he’d make it out, lay low, and come back. He wasn’t back. The wingding in your window is dusty. You don’t remove it. You work, and you work, and you work. You think you're close. Too many corrupt cops to find one, but you study the ways they are corrupt. Blockbuster doesn’t seem to be aligned with heartless, and that eliminates a vast swath of them. So you keep working. It wasn’t your Captain, too busy bending over for blockbuster, and you reluctantly had to acknowledge Mc Elroy’s innocence. And you work. 

Till eventually there’s the rap of knuckles on your window. You don’t think you’ve ever moved so fast. Or been so disappointed to see the red and black of Red Robin. Or felt such cold dread in the presence of a young man.  Why was he here? If his brother had come to see you… were all your worst fears true? “Yes?” you say quickly, opening the window and stepping back for him, too tired and too scared and too sad to care about playing dumb “Is Dick okay?” “Who?” Red Robin asks, cocking his head innocently. “Cut the shit, Tim” is your snapping reply. Red Robin drops away, and you are staring at a befuddled boy in a cape. “He told you?” “For fucks sake - I am a goddam detective. No, he didn’t say a word, but his mask covers 20% of his face at most, and his extended family all have rather obvious physical similarities to the rest of the bats.” Tim nods, and furrows his brow “well, that’s… I of all people can’t be mad about that I guess.” You don’t know what that means. In better days to come maybe you’ll ask. Not today. “Tim. Is he okay?” The young man nods. “Relatively speaking, yes. He is. I- Well given you know I suppose I can tell you a lot more than I planned. We were able to track down and arrest enough major players to scare others off taking the hit on him - Dick can return to public life soon. But when he does, we’ll want you with him. Or people you trust. Most of the time he’ll have someone a little better equipped watching him as well - No offence -” You shrug. “Glad to hear it. I’m a decent shot and a good detective but I am by no means one of you.” Tim continues “But it will also help to have you on him, and to keep up the appearance that he’s not anything special.” “Even without Nightwing, I don’t think you could convince a single person that Dick isn’t something special.” Is it true? Yes. Is it an embarrassing thing to have slipped out in front of his little brother? Also yes. Tim doesn’t comment, but you know it’s been filed away in the steel trap of his mind. 

“Well, regardless, be on your toes. You’re a target too, now.” That almost draws a laugh out of you.”Me? Why would I be a target? I don’t matter, not on the scale he operates at.” Red Robin snaps back into place as the young man stares at you like you just asked how people were sure the Joker was mentally unstable and not just misunderstood. “Ohhh you’re another one” “Another what?” “Idiot genius.” “Excuse me?” You take a step back in slight offence. “You’ll work it out.” is his reply, but he does smile. “Dick will be coming back soon. I know he’s had you working through potential moles put in the BCPD by Heartless. Any progress?” You nod, and wave him further into your apartment to see the board. Well. Presumably the cork board is still in there somewhere, having absorbed the wall it rested on. Ten newspapers. Seventeen files you absolutely shouldn’t have. Thirty pages of printer paper. Forty nine sticky notes. Over 200 pins and eight balls of red wool. It is a thing of beauty in your humble opinion. Red Robin clasps his hands together. “Mhm. Yes. We’re going to be friends.” “So, finding a clean cop in Bludhaven is basically impossible. Hell, by the definition I don’t even count, given I’m helping vigilanties. So I’ve tried to narrow down who works for Heartlesses competitors. My instinct was the new Sergeant, Mc Elroy. But it can’t be him, the timeline is all wrong. My Captain wouldn’t do it either. He’s scum, and he is letting Heartless get away with wildly too much, but he doesn’t do murder. White collar crime and letting others off the hook, as long as he can lie to himself about being the hero. He wouldn’t work with an obvious sadist.” “Which just leaves everyone else.” Red Robin hums.

“Less opportunity, but so many of them…”  “Exactly” you agree, hand on your chin.

“I have a good swath of people ruled out… so many of them work for Blockbuster or corrupt officials who lead back to Blockbuster. So many. It’s depressing, honestly. I have found a few that are suspiciously clean… and therefore suspect.”

You take a ruler and tap out your suspects faces where they are pinned at eye level.

“Dick Grayson; we can safely ignore him, but he acts suspicious enough to be a decent red herring, and to not consider him would be suspect if I was caught and this was found.”

“Bet Nightwing loved that.” Tim laughs.

“Oh his face was classic.But moving right along… Officer Jeeves, Officer Rodwell, and Officer Hughes. Jeeve’s is green, but he’s viable. Hughes, I haven’t been able to find anything on really. Rodwell… It wouldn’t be her.”

“No?” Red Robin fixes you with a stern look. “Is that an objective opinion?”

“No.” You admit. “But I trust her.”

At this point you have read nearly 10,000 words of this series, and so should really REBLOG, because likes on tumblr are meaningless! Please share your thoughts, I feed off them like a validation vampire. @sunnie-angel is the BEST beta a girl can ask for and you should check out her work! Banner was made by @stangergraphics

I no longer have a taglist but please follow @batchilla-announces-fics and turn on notifications to stay informed!

[halogenwarrior]

I'm going to go back and reblog already finished polls when I finish the media in question so: (Note in this case I finished the anime only, I don't have anything against manga but from what I understand the only remaining arc is unfinished and I have no interest in following an unfinished arc and forgetting all the details while waiting months for the next installment, when it's done I'll read it)

And based on what I've seen even if I heard the last arc is better, what I've seen has way too little focus on women to get a likes vote even if they were treated perfectly and the whole "oh it only has a few women but they are treated well" seems like it's eliding over a lot of criticisms you could give it on that front, as follows:

So let's see, Melody is ok but a pretty minor character who gets a backstory but isn't really affecting the plot, and you could criticize how they make the not conventionally attractive character's motivation/backstory be about how she's upset about being made to look that way and wants to make sure it doesn't happen to other people rather than her appearance being incidental to her story. Palm has the problem of being the only woman on the Chimera Ant mission who's also the only one to fail in her objective and get captured, not to mention her mental instability is very much framed in a gendered "woman be crazy about romance" way. Bisky's plot role is a fine enough mentor role but she's. not allowed to just be an older and more buff/muscular woman she has to be insecure about it and make herself appear like a cute child, and everyone always makes fun of her for it every time she's on screen (while old man mentors just get to look like cool old men). With Alluka it's nice that she is treated with respect as a trans girl and people who misgender her are shown to be wrong and cruel, but I don't get the "amazing representation" claims (maybe she gets more developed in the next arc I haven't read?) when she's really just a plot device for her powers with the occasional nod to how she feels bad about being treated as a plot device. The women in the Phantom Troupe are at least treated the same as the male ones but don't get that much focus, Pakunoda really only gets developed immediately leading up to her death (even if her death doesn't seem misogynistically written or disrespectful to her). There is definitely a lot of "girl has power to enslave men and make them fall in love with her because girls are the romance and seducing men gender and that's a Girl Superpower" (e.g Baise, Zazan if I remember right), the chimera ants in general tend to fall into the "men are monstrous women are humanoid and sexy" trend. Komugi is actually my favorite of them and one of my favorite characters in the show, and while I don't think her being portrayed as self-deprecating, easily crying and physically weak is sexist (it fits with the themes of the show and her role as an ordinary, disabled civilian in an oppressive country from a family with no money, trapped in a world where your existence can only be justified by power, wealth and strength, and how that warps one's self esteem around the one talent you have that you are told is the only thing that can justify your existence), what I do think is sexist about her writing is her ending. It never feels like her dying along with Meruem is a tragedy for her sake about her not being able to find value in her life, but more like she was only ever there to bolster Meruem's arc and trigger his character development and she could just be gotten rid of in the end when they need a capstone for his arc and she's no longer necessary for his development. I would rather she survived and continued as a recurring character to work through her own psychological struggles, realizing just what she's been involved with, and what has happened to her country, or if she died at least have it be treated as a tragedy for her own sake in not being able to overcome how she's been taught her value as a human being is conditional.

So yeah I would definitely disagree that the women are treated fine and the only problem is that there are few of them.

Does Hunter x Hunter like women?

Hunter X Hunter (Manga/Anime, 1998/1999)

Explain your reasoning in the tags!

[alohajix]

Description: [Y/N] signed her son up for soccer to help him feel a little braver. She didn’t expect it to feel like she was the one learning how to start over. And she definitely didn’t expect the coach to start feeling like home.

Warnings: single parenthood, child anxiety, parental guilt, emotional vulnerability, fear of abandonment, slow-burn romance, eventual consensual smut (soft to intense).

Word count: TBD.

author’s note: this little mini-story is actually part of something a bit bigger! if you enjoyed part one, i’m planning to share the four other parts exclusively on my patreon as i write them. there’s zero pressure, of course—just knowing you’re here reading already means the world to me. but if you’d like to support my work even more and follow this story as it continues, you’ll be able to find the rest over there when they’re ready. thank you so much for reading. i appreciate you more than you know! 🫶🏻🫶🏻

Main Masterlist

Marked by Midnight’s Masterlist

***

Warnings: child nervousness, social overwhelm, parental self-doubt, references to past social exclusion, emotional tension, fear of letting someone in.

Word count: 3,748.

The field is busier than I expected. Parents already staking their claims with fold-out chairs along the sidelines, sipping from oversized thermoses, shouting to each other over the hum of kids in matching jerseys sprinting across the grass like it's the World Cup. My stomach pulls tight as I kill the engine, my hands still wrapped around the steering wheel like I'm not entirely sure if we should even be here.

I glance into the rearview mirror, catching Archie in the back seat, small hands fidgeting with the hem of his jersey again. He's been doing that since we left the apartment—rolling the fabric between his fingers like it might unravel if he stops. It's bright red, way too big on him. He'd wanted it that way. Said the bigger one felt safer. Like armor, he told me, with the kind of serious little face only a six-year-old could pull off. But looking at him now, all I can think is how small he really looks in it.

I let out a slow breath and glance toward the field again, already feeling the weight of every other parent who looks like they've done this a hundred times before. Like they belong here. Like they belong together.

I climb out of the car, shut my door gently, and walk around to his side. He doesn't move when I open it, just looks up at me with those wide, worried eyes I know too well. The same eyes I've seen every time we try something new. I crouch down so we're level, resting my elbows on my knees.

"Alright, champ... you ready?"

His feet swing nervously over the edge of the seat. His voice is so soft I almost miss it.

"Do I have to go with them by myself?"

God, how many times have I heard that question in one form or another? First days of school, new babysitters, birthday parties where he doesn't know anyone but me. The same fear, every time. The same knot in my stomach when I have to lie just a little to make him believe this time will be different.

I reach for his hand, curling my fingers around his.

"You don't have to do anything you don't want to," I tell him quietly, brushing a piece of hair off his forehead. "But remember what we said? About trying? About being brave enough to see if it feels a little better once you get started?"

He bites his lip hard enough to leave a mark, glancing toward the field. I follow his gaze, taking in the kids already spread out in messy clusters, parents shouting encouragement like this is the most important thing in the world. My throat feels tight just looking at it.

"I'll be right here," I add softly. "The whole time. You can look for me whenever you want."

His chin wobbles just a little, but after a second, he nods. It's barely there, but it's enough. I press a quick kiss to his temple, breathing him in like it might settle something in me, too. That familiar scent of shampoo and syrup and him. My safe place, even when I'm the one who's supposed to be his.

I hold out my hand.

"Come on. Let's go check it out."

He slips his hand into mine without saying another word, holding on tight. Tighter than usual. We start walking toward the noise. And even though I've already promised him it's going to be okay, I'm not sure I believe it yet.

The closer we get, the more it feels like my skin's been pulled too tight. Like every step drags me further into a place I'm not convinced we belong. Archie's fingers are sweaty in mine, small and tense, and I can feel the tiny tremble in them with every squeeze. He's walking slower now, half a step behind, like if he keeps dragging his feet long enough, maybe I'll turn us around and call the whole thing off.

I want to. God, I want to. But I don't.

We stop at the edge of the field, just shy of the first line of folding chairs. I shift my weight, standing tall enough to look like I know what I'm doing, even though the truth feels like it's unraveling by the second.

Parents are everywhere—chatting over the hum of thermoses being popped open, stretching their legs out toward the grass like they've claimed this territory a dozen times before. Some of them are wearing team hoodies. Some already know each other's kids by name. You can tell by the way they laugh like it's nothing new.

I tuck Archie in a little closer to my side, scanning the field until I find the group in red jerseys forming near the far goalpost. A man's standing in front of them, clipboard tucked under one arm, whistle hanging loose from his neck. His sleeves are already shoved up to his elbows, hands gesturing casually as he calls the group to attention.

"All right, Red Rockets, let's bring it in!"

The way he says it catches me off guard—not sharp, not impatient, not the way I expected someone to rally a group of six-year-olds on a cold Saturday morning. It's... soft. Confident, but not loud. Like he already knows they'll listen without needing to shout.

I feel Archie flinch just a little beside me, his body shrinking closer to mine like the sound spooked him. I glance down, smoothing my thumb across the back of his hand.

"It's okay," I whisper, even though I have no idea if that's true.

When I look back up, the man's moving. Walking toward the group of kids gathering into a loose circle in front of him. I catch the edge of his voice again—lower this time, more focused on the ones who haven't settled yet.

Archie stiffens all over again, frozen like he's deciding whether to bolt or hide. And all I can think is please don't shut down. Not yet.

I'm already running through my backup plan in my head—how to peel him off the sidelines gently if he refuses to move, how to keep my voice from cracking when I tell him it's okay, we can try again another week—when I catch movement from the corner of my eye. He's walking toward us. Steady. Unbothered. No clipboard this time, no whistle in his hand. Just easy steps like he's done this before. Like he's not in a rush to fix anything.

Archie stiffens even more, his little body locking up next to mine like he's bracing for impact. I lean down toward his ear, lowering my voice to that quiet, steady hum I've learned works better than anything else.

"It's okay, baby. Just breathe. I'm right here."

He stops a couple of steps away, leaving space like he knows better than to crowd us. His hands are loose in his jacket pockets, his mouth tipping into the kind of smile that feels... patient. The kind that makes it look like this isn't a problem to solve—it's just a moment to walk through.

"Hey there," he says, nodding once like it's the most normal thing in the world to approach strangers this way. "First day nerves?"

I shift my weight, pulling Archie a little closer to my side.

"Yeah," I answer softly, my voice rougher than I mean for it to sound. "We just moved here. Still trying to find our place."

He nods like that makes perfect sense. Like he's heard it before.

"'S a lot, isn't it?" he murmurs, glancing toward the field again like he remembers exactly what it feels like to stand on the outside of something. "Is that your little one, then? Number five?"

I look down at Archie, who's still clinging to me, eyes wide but curious now.

"Yeah. Archer. We... we call him Archie."

Harry crouches down slowly, resting his elbows on his knees. He doesn't reach for Archie. Doesn't try to pull him out of hiding. He just lowers himself to his level and lets his voice drop even softer.

"Hiya, Archie. I'm Harry. Coach Harry, technically, but that feels a bit too serious for six-year-olds, don't you think?"

Archie doesn't answer, but his grip on my sweater loosens just a little. His eyes flick to Harry's shoes, then to his face, then back to me like he's checking if I'm still here. Harry keeps going, easy as anything.

"Y'know, we've got a job open today," he adds with a quiet grin. "Someone needs to help me set up all those cones over there before the team comes in. Think you might be able to help me with that?"

Archie shifts his weight, biting his lip, and for a second I'm sure he's going to shut down again. But then—so small I almost miss it—he nods. Just once. Harry doesn't make a big deal out of it. Doesn't whoop or cheer or make it a moment bigger than it needs to be. He just leans back on his heels, pushes to his feet, and tips his head toward the pile of cones on the grass.

"We'll just be over here," he says to me softly. "Promise I'll bring him right back."

I stay frozen where I am, arms wrapped tight around myself like I might actually fall apart if I move too fast.

Archie follows him. Slowly, yeah—but he follows. Two tiny steps at first. Then one more. He's a full body length behind, but he's moving. Moving toward something without me. My throat feels like it's closing up just watching it happen.

I hover at the edge of the chairs, not daring to sit down. My eyes flick to the other parents spread out along the sidelines, already swapping stories about school pickups and carpool schedules like this is just another weekend. Some of them aren't even watching the field. Some are already halfway through their second cup of coffee, shouting out names like they've done this a hundred times.

It's strange, standing here alone. My arms wrapped around myself like I'm bracing for something, like I'm waiting for a punch that never comes. I glance up at the sky for no reason at all, noting the gray clouds stretching low and heavy over the trees at the far end of the field. One gust of wind, and it'll probably rain.

Of course, I didn't bring an umbrella. I didn't think that far ahead. I'd been too busy worrying about Archie. About whether or not I could even get him this far.

I shift again, pressing my tongue to the back of my teeth to stop myself from calling Archie back. My fingers itch to reach for him, to pull him out of the spotlight and hide him somewhere safer. Somewhere smaller. Somewhere where he doesn't have to try so hard. But I don't. I stay planted. I watch Harry kneel beside the pile of cones, picking them up one by one and laying them out on the grass like he's got all the time in the world. He doesn't even glance back to see if Archie's still following. He just... waits.

Archie shifts his weight from foot to foot, looking back toward me like he's asking permission without saying it out loud. My chest tightens, but I nod once, small and steady, like I'm not terrified he's about to fall apart in front of everyone. And then he moves again. Steps right up to the pile and crouches awkwardly, his little fingers fumbling to grab a cone. Harry leans in a little, points to a spot on the field, and Archie starts walking toward it, arms stiff like he's afraid to drop it.

I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding. My throat stings with it. Like I've been holding that breath for longer than just today. It's small. So small. But it's more than I expected. I've seen people give up on him before. I've watched them get impatient when he freezes or takes too long to answer or hides behind me when they try to pull him out of his shell too fast. I've heard the tight, strained "it's okay, some kids just aren't social" more times than I can count. Always laced with that disappointed edge like they've already decided he's too much work.

I've seen the way they check their watches. The way they glance toward me with that half-frown, half-smile that really means "he's slowing us down." I've walked Archie back to the car more times than I can count with his head on my shoulder, whispering it's not his fault even when I know he doesn't believe me.

And every time it happens, I feel that weight in my chest. That bitter little voice in the back of my head that says see? This is why you keep your circle small. This is why you don't expect people to stay.

But Harry doesn't flinch. Doesn't push. He just lets Archie take his time, moving one cone at a time like there's nothing else to do today but wait for him to figure it out.

I glance down at the ground by my feet, kicking at the grass with the tip of my shoe like that might ground me somehow. It doesn't. All I can do is watch. All I can do is hope. I feel my heart catch in my throat because I already know I shouldn't let myself get used to that. He's just doing his job. And it's nothing. But the way it feels settling in my chest tells me I'm lying to myself already.

The rest of practice passes in a blur. I barely register what the other kids are doing. I don't hear a single word the parents around me say. I'm too locked in on Archie. On the way he stays close to Harry, watching every move like he's afraid he might miss something important.

And somehow, somehow, he stays. He doesn't run back to me. He doesn't shut down. He doesn't quit.

By the time Harry claps his hands together and calls the team in one last time, Archie's cheeks are flushed, curls sticking to his forehead, his little hands tugging on the bottom of his jersey again—but his shoulders aren't hunched the way they were when we got here. He's tired, but he's still standing.

I push off the fence and start toward the edge of the field, hugging my arms around myself again like it's going to hold me together for the next thirty seconds.

Harry crouches down to Archie's level again, says something low that makes Archie nod. Then he stands, turns toward me, and starts walking over with that same easy pace like we aren't two strangers standing on opposite sides of a life we haven't figured out yet.

"He did great," Harry says when he reaches us, nodding toward Archie like he means it. "Took a little warming up, but he stuck it out."

I swallow the knot in my throat, brushing Archie's hair off his forehead again.

"Thanks for being patient with him. I know he's... a lot sometimes."

Harry frowns a little—just for a second—like he doesn't like hearing that.

"He's not a lot," he says quietly, like it's a fact. "He's a kid. Kids move at their own pace."

And just like that, something in my chest pulls tight again. Because no one ever says it like that. Not without sounding like they're trying to convince themselves. But Harry says it like he actually believes it.

I shift my weight, blinking hard to keep my expression neutral. My mouth opens to thank him again, but nothing comes out. I chew the inside of my cheek instead, heat creeping up the back of my neck.

Before I can embarrass myself further, he clears his throat, rocking back on his heels.

"Listen, uh—would it be alright if I grabbed your number? Just in case we have to reschedule or... if Archie forgets anything?"

I freeze for a second longer than I probably should. I shouldn't. I shouldn't. That little voice in my head kicks in fast, warning me not to blur the lines. Not to give anyone even an inch closer than they need to be. But he's looking at me with that same steady patience I've watched him give to Archie all morning. Like I have a choice. Like he'll back off if I say no.

I nod. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone, already unlocked to a blank contact screen. I take it carefully, fingers brushing his. His skin is warm. Calloused, like he works with his hands for real. I feel it all the way down to my wrist, like something I shouldn't notice but do anyway.

I stare at the screen longer than I need to. I could fake it. I could type a number off by one digit and let this stay exactly what it is. Professional. Detached. Easy to forget.

But my thumb moves before I can stop it. I type my real name—[Y/N]. My real number.

When I hand it back, Harry glances at the screen, then up at me again with that easy, unreadable smile.

"Perfect. Thanks [Y/N]." God help me, I don't trust myself not to read too much into it.

Archie shifts beside me, tugging lightly on the hem of my sleeve like he's working up to something. He's got that scrunched-up little look on his face—the one he gets when he's thinking too hard. His cheeks are still flushed from running around, curls sticking to his damp forehead, but his eyes are darting between me and Harry like he's trying to figure something out.

Harry tucks his phone back into his jacket pocket and gives Archie one last ruffle of his hair, starting to turn back toward the rest of the kids when Archie blurts it out—loud enough for half the field to hear.

"Mama... can Coach Harry come to dinner sometime?"

The words hit me like a slap to the chest. Quick. Sharp. Immediate. My stomach drops. My throat closes. I freeze.

Harry doesn't. He doesn't laugh. He doesn't flinch. He doesn't even blink, really. His smile doesn't falter for a second. He just crouches down to Archie's level again, his voice dropping low and soft, like it's just for him.

"Maybe one day, little man," Harry says, reaching out to tap two fingers lightly against Archie's tiny fist. "Gotta keep practicin' those kicks first, yeah? That's the deal."

Archie beams like he's just been promised Disneyland. I, on the other hand, feel like my face is on fire. My heart slams so hard I swear I can hear it in my ears. I glance around like I'm half-expecting someone to be standing there listening, but no one is. No one's paying attention to us at all.

Except me. Except Harry. Except Archie, who's already moved on like it's the most normal thing in the world to invite a complete stranger to dinner.

I clear my throat, tightening my grip on the strap of my bag.

"Alright, bud... let's grab your stuff."

Harry stands again, brushing his palms against his thighs like he's shaking off the grass. His eyes meet mine for one last second, and there's something there I can't quite name. Not teasing. Not pity. Just... something steady. Something that feels like he already knows I'm going to overthink this all night.

"See you next week?" I ask before I can stop myself, my voice tighter than I mean for it to be.

Harry nods, rocking back on his heels again.

"Wouldn't miss it."

And just like that, he's gone—turning back toward the pile of equipment like the last five minutes didn't knock the air clean out of my lungs.

Archie talks the whole walk back to the car. Little bursts of excitement tumbling over each other—how he kicked the ball once, how Coach Harry let him carry the cones, how next week he's going to run even faster. He's out of breath before we even make it across the parking lot, his tiny hand swinging in mine like all the fear from earlier never happened.

I keep nodding, making all the right noises, but it feels like my head is full of static. Like I can't get my feet back under me, no matter how many steps I take.

I get him buckled into his booster seat, double-check the straps even though I know they're fine. I lean in, pressing a kiss to his temple like I always do, breathing him in for just a second longer than necessary. He giggles, pushing at my face with one small hand.

"Mamaaa," he laughs, like I'm embarrassing him. Like it's funny. Like his heart isn't still tangled up in my hands the way mine is in his.

I shut the door quietly and lean back against the car, staring out at the emptying parking lot. Most of the families are gone already. The folding chairs are packed up, the chatter's faded, and the breeze is colder now than it was an hour ago. I wrap my arms around myself, digging my nails into my sleeves like that might stop the way my chest feels like it's caving in.

I don't know what I expected today to be. But it wasn't this. It wasn't the way Archie actually stayed. The way he looked—pink-cheeked and almost proud—for the first time in God knows how long. And it sure as hell wasn't the way Harry spoke to him. Or to me. Like we weren't some charity case. Like he wasn't performing patience for points. Like he actually... saw us. Both of us.

I shove my hand into my pocket, pulling out my phone before I can stop myself. My thumb hovers over the screen for half a breath too long before I swipe it open and scroll to my contacts.

Harry.

I lock the screen again and stuff it deep into my jacket like I can hide from it if I don't look too long.

"Okay," I whisper to myself, pushing off the car and moving toward the driver's side.

I'm already overthinking it.

***

@cloudyluun @gem1712 @dipmeinhoneyh @idk1990 @harrrrystylesslut @sparxx27 @likea-silhouette @fangirl509east @starryhaze-crystal @mads3502 @run-for-the-hills @twinklaei @belgianblondee @pbandnutella @maudie-duan @cat-loves-music @harrysgirl2003 @harrystyleshotwife @secretands-blog @dutchtheatrelore @angeldavis777 @idkidcfuboh @maddiesalvatore1839

[cosmicaura7]

AITA SERIES

Pairings : pedro pascal characters x reader

Genre : f/m, sexual implications, controversial topics, taboo topics, use of R to refer to reader, 

Synopsis : So Reddit, Am I the Asshole…?

Clint Flood (Freaky Tales)

~~ COMING SOON ~~

AITA for being in love with my boyfriend’s dad?

I know how this sounds. I’m not proud of it. But I also can’t stop thinking about it, so here I am.

I (26F) have been dating J (28M) for almost a year now. He’s a good guy, steady, kind and a little boring but safe. The kind of guy you’re supposed to want to marry. The kind your mom would approve of.

Then there’s his dad. C (mid-50s). A little rough around the edges. Quiet, tall and intense. He’s got these piercing eyes that feel like they can see right through you and this whole ex-military and no-bullshit vibe that makes the air change when he walks into a room.

The first time I met him, I already felt something. But I ignored it, pushed it down. But it’s gotten worse. Every time I visit their family cabin, every time we sit across from each other at dinner, I feel his gaze linger just a little too long. I catch him watching me when he thinks I won’t notice. And I’d be lying if I said I didn’t look right back. It’s not just lust, either. He actually sees me, listens to me in a way his son never really does. He remembers the small things I say, and even notices when I change my hair. Once, when I was quietly crying in the hallway during a family weekend (long story), he was the one who came out and handed me a glass of water without a word.

I feel so drawn to him. And I know how messed up that is, I’m dating his son after all. There’s no world where this ends well. I haven’t cheated. I haven’t done anything beyond maybe letting my imagination wander and entertaining a few dreams I’ll never admit out loud. But lately, when I’m with J, I just feel off. Like I’m pretending. Like I’m waiting for someone else to walk into the room. Someone who makes my skin burn with just a glance.

So Reddit… AITA for staying in a relationship when my heart might be somewhere else? Am I horrible for wanting a man I can’t have? Or is this just a passing obsession I need to bury deeper?

Dave York (The Equalizer 2)

~~ COMING SOON ~~

AITA for not acting on feelings for my kids’ babysitter even though she clearly wants me to?

Okay Reddit, I know how this sounds, but hear me out before you jump to “creep” in the comments.

I (41M) am a divorced dad of two daughters, A (10) and M (7). They’re my world. Been raising them mostly solo for the past three years since the split and it hasn’t been easy. Between work, school pickups and dance recitals, I needed help. Enter her (let’s call her R, 26F), the babysitter I hired after a friend’s recommendation.

She’s absolutely incredible. Responsible, patient, smart, funny and grounded. Everything you’d want in a woman. My girls adore her. They draw her pictures, ask for her when they’re sick, even slip up and call her “Mom” sometimes. I figured that would make things easier, someone stable in their lives.

What I didn’t expect was me being the unstable one. Because the problem is, she’s also gorgeous. Like, unfairly so. And lately, I can’t tell if I’m imagining things or if she’s trying to test me. The casual touches, the way she lingers in the kitchen when I come home, the soft voice when she tells me I look tired and should get more sleep, the ridiculously tight tank tops, the lip gloss and the way she looks at me when she doesn’t think I notice.

Part of me, a big part, wants to give in. I’m a man, I’m not oblivious to it. But the other part? The one that tucks my daughters in at night? That part is scared shitless. What if I misread everything? What if this ruins the bond she has with my girls? What if they lose someone they love because their dad couldn’t keep it in his pants?

She’s never said anything outright, never crossed a clear line. But I can feel the tension and I can feel myself getting closer to breaking every day. I want her so badly but I also want what’s best for my kids. I just don’t know if those two things can exist at the same time.

So Reddit… AITA for keeping her at arm’s length when all I want to do is pull her closer?

Dieter Bravo (The Bubble)

~~ COMING SOON ~~

AITA for falling in love with my fake PR girlfriend and not knowing if she actually likes me or is just a better actor than I am?

Okay. Buckle up, internet strangers because I’m spiraling.

I (early 40s M, actor, you’ve probably seen me snort a line or die dramatically in something) was recently paired up with another actor (let’s call her R, 30s F, wildly talented, unfairly hot and intimidatingly cool) to star in this big dramatic slow-burn romance film. Think tortured artists, rainy kisses and completely Oscar bait.

To sell it? The studios and our agents cooked up this genius idea, let’s fake date. Hold hands at events, post blurry selfies on Instagram, give flirty interviews. You know, classic “no, we’re just good friends… wink” PR bait. At first, I laughed. I’ve done this crap before. All the camera flashes, fake kisses, casually mentioning her in interviews, rinse and repeat.

Except it stopped feeling fake. I stopped feeling fake. Somewhere between the shared hotel rooms, the quiet after-parties, the little glances during press junkets, I fell for her. Fully, horrifically and irrevocably. The kind of fall that makes your chest hurt and your ego scream. The worst part? I have no clue if she feels the same. She’s good, man. Oscar-nominee good. She leans into my arm like she means it. Laughs at my dumb jokes like they’re brilliant. Once she looked at me after a long day of shooting and said, “Sometimes I forget this isn’t real.” and I swear to god my soul left my body.

But then the next morning she’ll be cold again. Professional and distant. Like I dreamed the whole thing. Like it’s all just lines from a script I don’t have a copy of. Now I’m sitting here, fully in love with the woman I’m supposed to be pretending to love and I don’t know if I should say anything. What if I ruin everything? What if she is just pretending? What if I’m just another role she nails while I’m over here method acting heartbreak?

So Reddit… AITA for catching real feelings during a fake relationship? Or just an idiot with a crush and no chill?

Din Djarin (The Mandalorian)

~~ COMING SOON ~~

AITA for not following through with a hit because I fell in love with the target?

Yeah. That title’s a mess. So’s the situation.

I (40M) work in a niche line of work. Let’s just say I solve problems that require extreme discretion and no paper trail. You hire me and the problem disappears. Clean and quiet within a blink of an eye.

A few months ago, I got a high-paying job from a rich smug prick who wanted his ex-wife taken care of. No explanation, just names, photos and a price I couldn’t ignore. I’ve done worse for less so I took it. Her name is R (36F). First time I saw her, she was sitting outside a little bookstore she owns, sipping coffee, talking to some neighborhood kid like she wasn’t marked for death. I kept my distance. Observed and waited for the right time.

Only it never came.

The more I watched, the harder it became to see her as a target. She volunteers at shelters. Leaves snacks out for delivery drivers. She sings in her car when she thinks no one’s watching. She’s light and warm. The kind of woman you protect, not eliminate.

I told myself I was just gathering intel but days turned to weeks. I started memorizing her routines. I learned the way she laughs when she texts her sister, the exact brand of tea she drinks, the way she tucks her hair behind her ear when she’s nervous. Somewhere along the way, the job stopped being a job. I never made contact, never said a word. But I started feeling and now I’m in too deep. I backed out of the job quietly. Told the client it was unworkable, returned the deposit. He wasn’t happy but I’d rather deal with him than live with the thought of hurting her.

Problem is, I still want her. And I’ve imagined going up to her. Introducing myself as just a guy who walked into her in a random shop. Letting her fall for me without knowing who I really am. But that feels like a lie. I’ve already lied by omission.

So Reddit… AITA for falling for her while stalking her? For not telling her the truth even though every part of me wants to protect her now? Or would telling her everything be the most selfish thing I could do?

Ezra (The Prospect)

~~ COMING SOON ~~

AITA for secretly dating my best friend’s brother even though she explicitly told me not to?

So I (F, 27) have been best friends with this girl since we were 7. We grew up together, sleepovers, secrets, teenage rebellion, the whole deal. She’s like a sister to me and we’ve been through everything.

Which means I also grew up around E (M, 34), her older brother. E was the charming, sarcastic, effortlessly cool older brother who’d tease us when we were kids, drive us around when we were teens, and smirk at me in that infuriating way that made me blush harder than I’d like to admit. We always had this… thing. Flirty comments, lingering looks, stupid jokes that only made sense to us. But I never acted on it. My best friend made it very clear and very early on that E was off limits. “It’d be weird.” She said, “Gross. I don’t want my bestie being near my brother like that

Fast forward to last year. I ran into E at a party she dragged me to and it was different. The flirting was heavier. The air was tense. He looked at me like he really saw me. One thing led to another, and… yeah. We started secretly dating. At first, it was light, late-night texting, stolen moments, private dinners. But it grew deeper. He’s thoughtful, steady, makes me laugh and makes me feel safe. He listens. We talk about everything. I think I’ve loved him longer than I’ve even known what love was.

We’ve been together for 5 months now. My best friend doesn’t know. I’ve lied to her face more times than I can count and I hate it. Every time E and I sneak around, a part of me dies a little because I know how betrayed she’ll feel if (when) she finds out.

But here’s the thing, it’s not some casual fling. We’re in love. I want to tell her. We both do. We just don’t know how without blowing up twenty years of friendship. And I can’t stop asking myself, do I owe her that level of loyalty? Or am I allowed to be happy even if it’s messy?

So Reddit… AITA for going behind my best friend’s back and dating her brother, the one person she begged me not to fall for?

Francisco Morales (Triple Frontier)

~~ COMING SOON ~~

AITA for wanting to ask out a woman who used to sleep with my best friend (even though I’ve liked her for years)?

Yeah, I know how this sounds. Buckle up.

I (38M) have this friend, let’s call him Pope, who I’ve known forever. We’ve been through the shit together. The kind of friendship where you’d kill for the guy, no questions asked.

A few years ago, he was hooking up with this woman (let’s call her R, 30F). Nothing serious. Just casual, no-strings. He made that clear to all of us. And she seemed fine with it. They’d hook up after drinks or late nights but it fizzled out naturally. No drama. No breakup. Just life moving on.

Thing is that I liked her, always liked her. Since day one. She’s smart, hilarious, can handle a room full of testosterone like it’s nothing and has this way of looking at you that makes you feel like you’re the only guy in the world. I kept my distance out of respect. You don’t move in on your best friend’s girl even if she was never really his girl. But now, years later, I still haven’t stopped thinking about her. We still talk and hang out sometimes. There’s a spark there, I swear. But I haven’t said a damn thing. Partly because I’m a coward, partly because I don’t want to blow up my friendship with Pope.

I asked him once, hypothetically, how he’d feel if someone dated a girl he’d just “hooked up with.” He shrugged and said, “If it was just a hook-up, I wouldn’t give a shit.” But I don’t know if he actually meant it. And I don’t know if it’s different when it’s one of us, tight-knit, military bond and all.

So Reddit… AITA if I ask her out? Am I a bad friend for wanting a chance with the woman he technically had first, even if it was casual and years ago? Or should I just shut my mouth and keep pretending I don’t care?

Harry Castillo (The Materialists)

~~ COMING SOON ~~

AITA for wanting to financially support my assistant in a way that might make me her sugar daddy?

Throwaway because, well, obviously.

I (42M) run several successful business firms and have a phenomenal assistant (26F). Let’s call her R. She’s sharp, competent, endlessly patient with my disorganization and frankly the reason this whole damn office runs at all.

Here’s the thing, I’ve noticed she’s been struggling lately. She’s skipping meals, avoiding turning on the office heat even when she’s freezing. I caught her patching a hole in her shoe with tape. She’s proud and never complains, but it’s obvious she’s barely staying afloat. I pay her more than what she deserves for her position but I know life’s expensive, especially in Manhattan. I also know she’s got student loans and takes care of her family. And I hate seeing her like this, it’s been eating at me.

So here’s where I might be the asshole, I’ve been toying with the idea of offering her help. Not a raise (I already gave her one recently). Not a loan (she’d never accept). More like a “no strings attached” arrangement where I’d take care of her rent, groceries or whatever she needs, if she lets me. Yes, I know how that sounds. I’m not trying to be a creep. I’m not expecting anything in return, no paying back, no sexual favors. But there’s no way to make this offer without it sounding like I want to be her sugar daddy.

Truth is… I wouldn’t hate that idea if she was open to something more. She’s beautiful and smart. The kind of woman I’d fall for in another life. But that’s not what this is about. I just want to take care of her and make sure she’s okay. If there’s anything more deserving in living the lavish life, it’s definitely her. 

So Reddit… AITA for even thinking about offering something like that? And if not, how the hell do I go about it without sounding like an old pervert?

Jack “Whiskey” Daniels (Kingsman)

~~ COMING SOON ~~

AITA for being cold to a woman at work because she reminds me of my dead wife?

I (late 40s, M) work in a high-risk field, let’s just call it federal-level security with a cowboy hat on top. I’m used to staying sharp and staying detached. I’ve had to be, ever since I lost my wife ten years ago. She was my everything. Sweet, sharp-tongued and tough as nails under lace. When she died… I buried my heart with her.

Then came her.

Let’s call her R (mid-30s, F). She’s the new secretary at our organization. Handles the logistics, the schedules, the background noise of our chaos. Always has a coffee in hand, always humming something, always looking at the world like it still deserves to be forgiven. The first time I saw her, I froze. She didn’t look exactly like my wife, not quite, but she moved like her, laughed like her and smiled with that same little tilt that used to undo me in an instant. And ever since then, I’ve treated her like she’s done something wrong just by walking into the damn room.

I’m short and dismissive with her, sometimes even rude. I pretend not to hear her when she says good morning. Once or twice, I’ve even corrected her harshly in front of others for mistakes she didn’t make. I know I’m being cruel. She hasn’t done a damn thing to deserve it. But every time she opens her mouth, I hear a ghost. Thing is, she’s never pushed back. She just looks at me with this confused kind of hurt, like she doesn’t understand what she did wrong and the truth is, she didn’t, never did. I did. I’m the one turning grief into anger. I’m the one who never dealt with losing the woman I loved and now I’m taking it out on someone who’s just being kind.

Lately, I’ve been thinking about apologizing, about telling her the truth. But I’m afraid if I let her in, I’ll start feeling again. And I don’t know if I’ve got the strength to lose someone twice.

So Reddit… AITA for being a jackass to someone just because she reminds me of someone I lost? Or is this just the only way I know how to cope?

Javi Guttierez (The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent)

~~ COMING SOON ~~

AITA for kissing my assistant and confessing my feelings, only for her to completely ignore it the next day?

This might be a mess so bear with me.

I (M, 33) am a scriptwriter and producer. I’ve worked my way up in this business and I take it seriously. One of the smartest things I ever did was hire her, my assistant (F, 28). Let’s call her R. She’s incredible. Organized, sharp, cool under pressure, has this dry humor that makes me laugh at the worst times and somehow remembers every detail about everyone I ever meet. She makes me better. She makes the job look easy.

And I’ve been in love with her for almost two years.

I know it’s unprofessional. I kept it quiet, never crossed a line, not even a toe near one. Because she deserves respect and I’d rather suffer in silence than make her uncomfortable or jeopardize her career.

But it’s been getting harder lately, especially at industry parties. She turns heads when she walks into a room. Every actor, every big name, they all want a piece of her. And I just stand there, pretending I don’t care. Pretending I’m not dying inside when they make her laugh, when they ask for her number, when she says, “I’m working” and looks away.

Then came this gala. One too many champagne flutes. One too many guys trying to corner her. She looked uncomfortable, kept glancing at me across the room. And something in me snapped. I pulled her away from the crowd, took her to the balcony, and without thinking, I kissed her. Then I told her everything. That I’ve liked her since week one. That I think about her all the time. That it kills me to watch her with anyone else.

And she just ran. Didn’t say a word. Just turned and walked away.

Next morning? It was like it never happened. She showed up, clipboard in hand, rattling off schedules, looking me dead in the eye like she hadn’t fled from my lips ten hours prior. I’ve tried talking to her. I’ve begged for just five minutes of her time. She dodges me, changes subjects, acts like everything is normal, and it’s driving me insane. I feel like I crossed a boundary. But also, I was honest. I never forced anything. I just said how I felt.

So Reddit… AITA for kissing my assistant and confessing my feelings after years of silence, even if now she won’t speak to me?

Javier Peña (Narcos)

~~ COMING SOON ~~

AITA for constantly rejecting my coworker’s advances even though I’m actually in love with him?

This is going to sound like I’m the world’s biggest idiot, but here goes.

I (29F) work for the government. It's a hard, high-stress job and there’s not a lot of room for vulnerability or, y’know, romance. Which sucks because I’ve been half in love with my colleague, let’s call him J, since the day I met him.

He’s everything you’d want in a man. Confident, charming and dangerous in that bad boy way. He walks into a room and women stare. He talks and people listen. He flirts like it’s breathing. And yeah, he’s got a reputation. Everyone knows he’s been around, probably the most sexually experienced man I’ve ever met.

Me? I’ve never even had sex. Not religious, not traumatized, it just never happened for me. I’ve always been shy and easily intimidated. I was the "shy bunny" in the academy, not the one guys chased after. And when J started flirting with me, like really flirting, I froze.

It’s not like I’m not interested, I am. But every time he makes a move, I panic, I dodge, I pretend that I’m too busy or brush him off with a joke. Because the thought of actually being with him, of taking off my clothes in front of a man like that, makes me want to crawl into a hole. I’m scared I’ll disappoint him. That I’ll be awkward or inexperienced or just not enough. And then I’ll ruin the one good relationship I have on this damn job. He still flirts, still checks in. But I can feel the distance growing. I think he’s starting to think I’m not into him. Or worse, that I’m playing games. I’m not. I just don’t know how to tell him why I keep backing off.

So Reddit… AITA for rejecting him over and over while secretly being in love with him? Should I be honest and risk everything? Or just keep my mouth shut and let him move on to someone who won’t choke up the second he touches her?

Joel Miller (The Last of Us)

~~ COMING SOON ~~

AITA for having feelings for my dad’s best friend, who basically helped raise me?

Okay, so this is going to sound real bad on paper, but hear me out.

I (26F) have known this man, J, since I was a kid. He’s my dad’s best friend, a grumpy rugged Texan who’s been around for every milestone in my life. School plays, birthdays, college move-in day, you name it, J was always there, usually fixing something or standing off to the side with a cup of coffee and his permanent scowl.

Here’s the thing, somewhere in the last year or two, I started not seeing J as just “Dad’s friend.” Like, I’ll walk into the kitchen in my pajamas and he’s fixing the sink with his sleeves rolled up, arms flexing and suddenly I’m thinking things I should probably be arrested for. It’s not just physical. He listens to me, respects me and treats me like a grown woman, not a little girl.

A few nights ago, he stayed over after helping Dad rebuild the deck. I poured him a whiskey after Dad went to bed and we talked for hours. At one point, he brushed my hand and didn’t pull away right away. It was small but it felt like something shifted. Here’s the kicker, I want something to happen. I want him but I feel like the biggest asshole on the planet because 1.) he’s my dad’s best friend, 2.) he’s literally 20+ years older than me, and 3.) I know if my dad ever found out, it’d destroy their friendship.

So Reddit… AITA for wanting to sleep with the man who basically helped raise me? I haven’t acted on it yet, but I want to desperately. Am I a terrible person for thinking so?

Marcus Acacius (Gladiator II)

~~ COMING SOON ~~

AITA for secretly dating my professor after we hooked up, even though I was the one who pursued him first?

Throwaway for obvious reasons. This is messy and I know it.

So I (22F) am a senior in college, finishing my degree in classical studies. For the past year, I’ve been taking a Roman history seminar taught by Professor M (M, late 30s?). He’s brilliant, sharp-tongued, a little intimidating and, honestly, incredibly attractive in that cold, untouchable kind of way. I’ve had a crush on him since day one.

He’s very professional, like textbook boundary-keeper. Never gave me special treatment, never even hinted at anything, even though I was top of his class and probably tried way too hard to impress him. I figured it would stay one-sided forever. Until a few weeks ago, I went to a bar near campus with friends. And who do I run into? Him. Out of the suit, out of the lecture hall, totally relaxed. He buys me a drink. We talk, like, really talk. He’s charming, funny and flirty. I was shocked. One thing led to another and I ended up at his apartment. We slept together. It was intense, passionate and everything I’d secretly fantasize about.

We talked the next morning. He made it very clear that he hadn’t planned it, that it was wrong in theory, but neither of us wanted to stop. So we kept seeing each otherecretly. Always professional on campus. No PDA. No weird behavior in class. It’s all strictly off the clock.

And honestly? I’m happy. I care about him. I think he cares about me too. But lately, some classmates have started joking that he favors me, not knowing anything is happening, and it’s making me feel paranoid. I’m terrified of ruining his reputation, of jeopardizing his career or mine. 

So Reddit… AITA for crossing that line with him? Or are we just two adults trying to be careful about something real in a setting that doesn’t make room for it?

Marcus Moreno (We Can Be Heroes)

~~ COMING SOON ~~

AITA for feeling blindsided that my neighbor, who babysits my daughter and I might be falling for, has a kid I didn’t know about?

Hey Reddit, this might sound like a midlife crisis-in-the-making but I really need some outside perspective.

I (M, 39) am a single dad. My daughter, also M (F, 8), is the best part of my life. I work a demanding job, and for the past year or so, my neighbor (F, 35), let’s call her R, has been babysitting M when I’m away. She’s kind, dependable and just gets my daughter in a way that instantly puts me at ease.

More than that, she gets me. We’ve grown close. Coffee on porches. Passing each other in the hall. Sometimes we talk until midnight over paper takeout boxes and M’s school projects. I always chalked it up to neighborly chemistry, nothing more. But lately, I’ve caught myself looking at her differently, wondering if maybe, just maybe, she might feel the same. My daughter doesn’t help. Every other night it’s, “Daddy, she has a crush on you.” Or “I think she’d be a great mom someday, like, to me.” Kids, right?

I didn’t want to get ahead of myself. I figured if she felt something, she’d say something or maybe I’d grow the courage to bring it up myself. But then, this weekend, a car pulls up in her driveway. I look out the window and I see a man step out, not threatening, just there. And then a little boy hops out of the back seat and runs into R’s arms.

My heart dropped. Turns out she has a kid, a son. From a previous marriage, she’s divorced. None of this was ever mentioned in all our conversations and now I feel off? Confused. A little betrayed? I know that sounds unfair, she’s not obligated to tell me her life story. But after all these quiet, close nights and tender moments and hearing from my daughter that she might have feelings for me, why didn’t she ever tell me about her son? I haven’t said anything. I don’t want to make her feel guilty. She still babysits my daughter. But I can’t stop replaying it all. Did she keep it from me on purpose? Was I just a fool for thinking we had something? Or am I just overwhelmed because I wanted her to be part of our little family and didn’t realize she already had one of her own?

So Reddit… AITA for feeling a little heartbroken and distant after finding out my neighbor has a son she never told me about?

Marcus Pike (The Mentalist)

~~ COMING SOON ~~

AITA for not telling my best friend that I’m secretly dating the man she just asked me to help her get with?

I (F, 30s) have been dating a coworker of mine, let’s call him M (late 30s, thoughtful, charming, ridiculously handsome) for over three years. We met working in the same department (federal law enforcement, so discretion is basically part of the uniform), and from the start, we kept it quiet. No PDA at work, no romantic texts on company phones, nothing that could put us under scrutiny. It was just easier that way, completely private and ours.

Fast-forward to now, we’ve built a whole life together in the shadows. We take trips, spend weekends at each other’s apartments, and talk about buying a house someday. The real deal.

Here’s the problem, my best friend, who also works in our agency, pulled me aside a few days ago and told me she has a huge crush on M. She said she’s had a thing for him for months but didn’t know how to approach it. And then she asked if I could help set her up with him, talk her up, ease her in, “put in a good word.” She has no idea I’m with him. We’ve never told anyone. And the worst part? She was genuinely excited when she told me, like school girl giddy level. She said, “I really think he could be the one.”

Now I feel sick. I didn’t know what to say. I kind of froze, gave a weird laugh and changed the subject. But now she keeps asking about it. And I feel like I’m betraying both of them, M, by not protecting our relationship and her, by hiding something huge.

M says we can go public. That he’s fine with it if I am but then what? I tell her I’ve been with the guy she’s secretly pining over for years and just didn’t say anything? Won’t she feel humiliated? Betrayed? I’m terrified it’ll destroy our friendship.

So Reddit… AITA for not telling my best friend I’m already with the guy she wants? And if not, what the hell do I do now?

Max Philips (Bloodsucking Bastards)

~~ COMING SOON ~~

AITA for wanting to quit because my boss won’t turn me into a vampire even though I’m literally the top performer?

I (24F) started an internship at a mid-size sales company a few months ago. I was just trying to get some experience and a paycheck. I didn’t expect, you know, vampires to be a part of that experience.

The office rumor (that everyone knows is true) is that M (mid-30s? ageless? hot in a soul-sucking Wall Street vampire sort of way) is the boss who handpicks the best employees to “promote” aka turn them into vampires. It’s a reward. Eternal life, endless energy, better insurance and apparently a coffee tolerance that doesn’t make your hands shake. Thing is, I’ve crushed the sales board for three months straight. Like, no competition. The next closest guy is 42 calls behind and cries during lunch. I stayed up late. I meet quotas no one else touches. My neck is basically exposed at this point, figuratively and literally.

And yet nothing. No shadowy invite. No creepy-but-glamorous “let’s talk in my office with the lights off.” M just gives me these weird once-overs in the elevator and says things like, “Good work, kid,” like I’m still in high school. Meanwhile, last month’s top performer (D, who sells like he’s reading from a cereal box) got “promoted” after one good week.

I tried asking. M just smiled, that smug fanged GQ smile and said, “It’s not just about the numbers.” Which… okay? What is it about then? Charm? Blood type? Being less annoying during meetings? Now I’m spiraling. Like am I not vampire material? Am I too ambitious? Not attractive enough? Too human? Every day I walk past the break room and see the cool undead crowd sipping their crimson smoothies and laughing at inside jokes about graveyards and their never ending orgies, and I feel like the nerd no one wants at the slumber party.

I’m starting to hate him. Not just because he won’t bite me but because I wanted it. I earned it. And now I’m stuck here, mortal, exhausted and drinking stale coffee while wondering if I’m not enough.

So Reddit… AITA for wanting to quit my job because my boss won’t make me a vampire? Or am I just taking professional rejection way too personally?

Maxwell Lord (Wonder Woman 1984)

~~ COMING SOON ~~

AITA for wanting to ask out my son’s teacher even though I’m afraid of messing up his life again?

So, I (M, early 40s) am a single dad to the best kid on the planet, A (9M). Sweet, brilliant and too good for me honestly. His mom and I split a few years ago and I’ve been doing the whole daddy CEO redemption arc thing ever since. Trying to be a good man. Trying to keep the chaos in check. Trying not to completely screw this kid up.

Enter her. My son’s teacher. Let’s call her R (30s F). She’s sunshine in human form. Whip-smart, patient and warm. She talks to A like he’s the most important person in the room, and hell, she talks to me like I’m not just a walking Wall Street headline. I’ve been smitten since parent-teacher night. Every time I drop A off or pick him up, I try to be charming, likeable, funny, confident. You know, my usual moves.

And I fail miserably. Every. Single. Time.

She doesn’t laugh at my stupid money jokes, she gives me this look when I bring her overpriced coffee like she knows I googled “gifts teachers love.” Once, I tried to compliment her and said, “You’re doing really admirable work wrangling a room full of small people.” I sounded like I was describing a livestock auction. Still, she smiles. She’s kind and I think, maybe, she likes me back? Or at least doesn’t hate me. Which, for me, is progress.

Here’s the problem, I’ve been thinking about asking her out. Just coffee, something simple. But I keep stopping myself because of A. He adores her. I mean, glows when he talks about her. I don’t want to confuse him. I don’t want him to feel weird if she becomes something more to me than “Ms. R.”

But lately, he’s been drawing pictures of the three of us. Me, him and her. He says stuff like, “Ms. R would make a good mom.” Or, “Ms. R always makes me feel safe.” And I can’t help but wonder, is he already hoping for something more?

So Reddit… AITA for wanting to ask out my son’s teacher even if it risks changing something sacred in his life? Or should I just keep pretending this isn’t killing me a little more every time I see her?

Lucien De Leon (The Uninvited)

~~ COMING SOON ~~

AITA for not being able to look at my best friend the same after I saw her camming and moaning my name?

Yeah. I know how that sounds. But please let me explain before you judge.

I (M, 29) have been best friends with R (F, 28) since we were kids. Grew up in the same neighborhood, went through awkward teen years together, cried on each other’s shoulders during breakups, shared popcorn during horror movie marathons, the whole “platonic soulmates” deal. Everyone always assumed we’d end up together but we never crossed the line. Mostly because I never had the guts.

Truth is, I’ve been in love with her since high school. She’s funny, brilliant, completely unfiltered and has this laugh that makes me feel like everything’s okay. I never told her because I didn’t want to lose what we had.

Then last week, I was up late, bored, scrolling whatever and I ended up on a cam site. Just clicking around, not expecting anything.

And there she was.

On camera. 

In the most sinful lingerie I’ve ever seen and looking gorgeous as ever. And at first I froze. I thought, “No way. That can’t be her.” But it was 100% her. The mole on her hip, the way she chews her lip when nervous, her voice. 

And then she moaned my name. Not in passing. Not like in a roleplay type of way. My actual real name. I exited so fast I nearly dropped my phone. I haven’t told her. I can’t stop thinking about it. I can’t stop picturing it. Her, saying my name, like that. And now every time we hang out, it’s like a war in my head, part of me still wanting to protect her, the other part completely wrecked by desire and curiosity. I feel like I’ve violated something, even though she’s the one streaming it publicly. I feel like a creep but also kind of hopeful? Like maybe she feels something for me, too? I don’t know what to do. I can’t unsee it and I don’t know if I should talk to her, confess, or bury it forever.

So Reddit… AITA for not being able to treat my best friend the same now that I’ve seen her in that way, even if she doesn’t know I know?

Oberyn Martell (Game of Throne)

~~ COMING SOON ~~

AITA for falling in love with the enemy and not telling her I originally used her to get revenge on her family?

I (41M) come from a family with blood in the streets and revenge in its bones. We’ve been at war with another family, let’s call them the Ls, for decades. The kind of feud where you don’t just destroy businesses, you burn bloodlines.

A while back, I met her. Let’s call her R (32F) and is the youngest from that said family. She walked into a neutral club downtown like she owned it, and every man in the room turned to look. So did I. At first, I saw an opportunity. I’m not proud of it but I’ll be honest, I wanted to get close to her to hurt her family. Seduce her. Use her. Break her heart. Maybe learn a few secrets along the way. That was the plan.

Except, it didn’t go that way.

She didn’t fall easily. She’s not some porcelain princess. She challenged me, even mocked me. Didn’t take any of my shit. And somehow, in all that fire and venom, I started wanting her. Not as a pawn. As a person. As mine. We've been seeing each other in secret for almost a year now. Behind closed doors, it’s real. It’s not a game. I bring her flowers. She brings me peace. She’s the only one who touches me like I’m a man, not a monster. And gods help me, I think I’d burn down my whole empire just to keep her safe.

But I haven’t told her the truth. That I used her at first. That I lied when I said I just "ran into her." That I walked into her life with a knife hidden behind my back and only dropped it once I realized I didn’t want to hurt her, I wanted to keep her. Now I’m stuck. If I tell her the truth, I risk losing her forever. If I don’t, I’m living a lie. Every time I touch her, I wonder if she’d still look at me the same if she knew what I was when this started.

So Reddit… AITA for not telling her? For falling in love with the one woman I was supposed to destroy?

Pero Tovar (The Great Wall)

~~ COMING SOON ~~

AITA for wanting to say yes when my boss’s daughter asked me to get her pregnant to avoid sleeping with her fiancé?

I know how that title sounds. Believe me, I’ve lost sleep over it.

I (late 30s M), am an ex-military, currently working in private security. I was hired by a very rich, very controlling man to be his daughter’s bodyguard. Let’s call her R (mid-20s, beautiful, clever, and way too good for this world or for me).

R’s family is old-money, traditional and practically treats her like a business asset. A few months ago, they arranged for her to marry some stiff in a suit who’s more in love with her father’s power than with her. She doesn't love him, she’s made that clear. And now her family is pushing for kids. Like, very soon. Like, contracts signed and wedding night kind of pressure.

I’ve seen the way she looks after long meetings. Like she’s drowning. I’ve heard her cry in her room when she thinks no one’s listening. But I didn’t expect what she asked me. She pulled me aside yesterday. Calm, serious and no games. She said she couldn’t go through with letting a stranger own her body. That if she had to have a child, she wanted to choose the father. Someone she trusted. Someone she felt safe with. Someone like me. She said she wouldn’t expect anything else. No strings. No relationship. Just this one thing. And god help me, I want to say yes.

Because I’ve been falling for her since day one. Quietly. From the shadows. I was hired to protect her, not touch her, but every time I see her, I want to pull her away from all of this. From her family. From the cold fiancé. From the life she never chose.

But if I say yes, am I crossing a line? Taking advantage of her desperation? If I say no, I keep things clean, professional but I leave her alone in something that clearly terrifies her.

So Reddit… AITA for wanting to say yes when she asked me to give her something real in a life full of things she never chose?

Reed Richards (Fantastic 4)

~~ COMING SOON ~~

AITA for constantly arguing with my scientific rival, even though I might actually be in love with her?

Let me start by saying I’m not great with emotions. Equations? Fine. Quantum mechanics? My playground. Human connection? That’s where I fall apart.

I (40M) work in advanced theoretical physics, and I’m fairly well-known in my field. A few years ago, a new name started popping up in peer-reviewed journals. Let’s call her R (34F). She’s brilliant, bold and completely unapologetic. And somehow, infuriatingly, smarter than me in areas I used to dominate.

We met at a symposium and things escalated. What began as subtle jabs turned into full-blown intellectual warfare. Debates in front of panels. Arguments in laboratories. Petty rebuttals in published work. To everyone else, we’re rivals, frenemies at best, sworn enemies at worst.

But here’s the part no one knows, I don’t hate her at all.

In fact, I admire her more than anyone I’ve ever met. She challenges me. She keeps me on my toes. And, God help me, she’s gorgeous when she’s yelling at me about my “antiquated entropy model.” I’ve even found myself intentionally provoking her just to see the fire in her eyes. The problem? I’ve backed myself into a corner. I’ve spent so long acting like she’s my nemesis that I don’t know how to flip the script. I can’t just say, “Hey, I know I’ve spent the last three years criticizing your work in front of Nobel committees, but want to grab dinner sometime?”

She probably does hate me. Or worse, she sees me as a childish competitor who can’t handle being challenged by a woman. And maybe that’s not entirely wrong.

So Reddit… AITA for keeping up the act? For pretending to hate her when in reality I can’t stop thinking about her? I don’t even know if she’d take me seriously if I tried to be honest now. Or is it too late to change the rules of the game?

Tim Rockford (Merge Mansion)

~~ COMING SOON ~~

AITA for developing feelings for a witness in a murder case even though I’m the lead investigator and she’s the victim’s wife?

I know how it sounds. I hate that I’m even writing this. But here we are.

I (M, 40s) work in law enforcement, been doing it a long time. I’ve seen the worst of people. I’ve interviewed killers with no soul behind their eyes, and families so broken by grief I had to go sit in my car afterward and just breathe.

Then came her.

Let’s call her R (30s F). She was the wife of the man we found shot dead in their home. Brutal scene. She was there too, barely alive when we arrived. Beaten, bloodied and she fought like hell to survive. We think she wasn’t supposed to make it. Suspect must’ve thought she was dead when he fled.

We put her into a protective program while we sort this out. There’s still a threat, still pieces missing. And since I’m the lead on the case, I’ve been around a lot.

It started small, making sure she felt safe. Bringing her updates. Listening when she needed to talk about the past. Her husband wasn’t exactly Prince Charming. There’s a lot to unpack there. And somewhere along the line, I started seeing her as more than a witness. More than a case file. She’s sharp and resilient. The kind of woman who makes you want to be softer just standing near her. And she smiles at me, like she’s grateful I’m there, like she trusts me.

But here’s the thing: her husband just died violently. No matter how their marriage was, he’s gone and I’m the man investigating it. I’m supposed to be objective, professional. And I am, I swear I am. But I can’t lie to myself anymore and pretend I’m not catching feelings I shouldn’t. I haven’t acted on anything. I’d never cross that line. But the way she looks at me sometimes, I wonder if she feels it too.

So Reddit… AITA for wanting something with a woman who’s still technically grieving her dead husband, while I’m supposed to be the one protecting her?