#but the point of their dynamic is that they’re mirrors to each other

[lunannex]

The day people stop mischaracterizing Kaveh and Alhaitham is the day I will finally be happy

#alhaitham isn’t mean he’s just very blunt #kaveh isn’t a helpless damsel in distress #i mean #he IS in distress #just not in the way you think #people dumb-down kaveh so much it’s so annoying #he graduated with honors!!! yeah he’s a little gullible but he’s not fucking stupid #also this whole ‘kaveh wouldn’t know how to function without alhaitham’ bullshit #besties he was practically taking care of himself after his dad died because his mother fell into a very deep depression #and THEN she moved to fontaine and he was living alone #he went to school and GRADUATED TOP OF HIS DARSHAN #everyone wanted him to work for them after he graduated #he built a palace and YEAH now he’s in massive debt #but like?????? #he landed himself in that position and he’s TRYING to get back on his feet #i’d say he’s pretty independent idk #yeah yeah alhaitham pays for all his drinks most of the time #and he helps kaveh out a lot in other ways as well #but the point of their dynamic is that they’re mirrors to each other #you can’t really have one without the other because their stories are so intertwined and they help each other grow #they keep each other in check #luna talks #anyway #i’m very upset :)

[pucksandpower]

Playing Cupid

Max Verstappen x Red Bull driver!Reader

Summary: convinced that you and Max must be the most oblivious people on earth, the rest of the grid decide to take matters into their own hands

“Hey, I bet I can beat you to the debrief room!” Max’s voice carries through the paddock, his familiar smile in place.

You roll your eyes, a smirk playing on your lips. “You always say that and yet here we are.”

He chuckles, brushing a strand of his hair away from his face, “Optimism, it’s just part of my charm.”

“You mean your delusion?” You tease, nudging him with your elbow.

There’s a pause as you both make your way, the chatter of crew members a steady background hum as Max’s laughter and your shared jokes create a bubble around the two of you.

“You two are like the dynamic duo of Red Bull,” Daniel pipes up from where he’s leaning against the wall with his signature grin stretching across his face. “Batman and Robin vibes.”

You glance at Max, raising an eyebrow. “Batman and Robin? More like Tom and Jerry.”

Max snorts. “Which one am I?”

“Definitely Tom. Always chasing but never quite catching up.” You stick out your tongue playfully.

Daniel shakes his head with a laugh, “The chemistry though! It’s electric. The entire grid sees it.”

You look puzzled, glancing at Max whose face mirrors your own. “What are you on about, Danny?”

Before he can reply, Max’s race engineer joins in, “He’s not wrong. It’s like watching two magnets circle each other, not knowing they’re meant to connect.”

Max shrugs, looking slightly embarrassed at GP’s observation, “We’re just good friends. Teammates. That’s all.”

You nod in agreement. “Exactly! Just because we joke around doesn’t mean—”

“—there’s anything more,” Max finishes for you, the two of you so in sync it makes GP and Daniel exchange amused glances.

“Whatever you say,” GP chuckles.

The day wears on, filled with the usual press conferences, race strategies, and banter. But now, there’s an underlying hum, a question that seems to have spread among the drivers and teams: what if?

In the evening, as you’re about to make your way back to the hotel, Lewis sidles up to you. “You and Max, huh? That’s something. The fans will love it.”

You blink in surprise. “We’re just teammates. That’s all.”

He winks. “For now.”

You just laugh it off, not sure how to respond.

Later that night, you and Max find yourselves in a private corner of your hotel restaurant, both tired but satisfied. “Did Lewis say something weird to you too?” Max asks, sipping his drink.

You nod. “About us. I mean, we’re close, but all this talk ... it’s a bit strange, right?”

He sighs, “Yeah. Just because two people get along doesn’t mean they’re ... you know, together together.”

You chuckle. “Exactly. We’re friends. Best friends. That’s all.”

***

“Truth or dare!” The booming voice with an enthusiastic Australian accent echoes across the lounge where a few of the drivers have gathered post-qualifying, hoping to unwind.

Max groans from beside you. “Do we have to? Every time it ends up embarrassing at least one of us.”

You nudge him, laughing. “Oh, come on. Scared of a little dare, Verstappen?”

Daniel’s eyes gleam with mischief. “Exactly. What are you so afraid of, Maxie? Maybe revealing a certain ... secret?”

Lando, lounging on a sofa, chips in, “Or maybe singing a serenade for a certain someone?”

Max’s cheeks turn a shade redder while you feel your own face heat up. “I think Danny and Lando are in cahoots,” you whisper to Max, who chuckles in agreement.

“Alright, alright,” Max concedes, “Truth or dare. Bring it on.”

Daniel’s smile widens even further, a clear sign that he’s up to no good. “Okay, Max. Truth or dare?”

Max hesitates for a split second. “Dare.”

Daniel rubs his hands together with a surprisingly convincing evil smirk. “I dare you to serenade ...” He deliberately drags out the suspense, glancing around the room before pointing directly at you, “... your lovely teammate here.”

The room erupts into laughter and teasing. “Oh, this is going to be good!”

Max looks at you apologetically but there’s a playful glint in his eye. “Alright, alright. What song?”

You shake your head, already giggling in anticipation of what is to come. “Surprise me.”

Gathering courage, Max stands up, clearing his throat dramatically. He looks right into your eyes, a playful glint in his, and starts singing “I Want It That Way” … mostly.

“Tell me why … I keep crashing into walls. Tell me why … I can’t seem to win them all. Tell me why … I never want to hear you say, box box box box box.”

You laugh so hard that tears stream down your face. The room is filled with laughter, claps, and a few playful boos (mostly from Charles who seem partially traumatized by the mention of boxing).

“That’s officially the most romantic thing anyone’s ever done for me,” you say, sarcasm dripping from your words.

Max takes a bow, still red-faced. “Thank you, thank you. I’ll be here all week.”

As the night winds down and the group starts to disperse, Daniel sidles up to you. “Soooooo …. did the serenade work?”

You laugh, “It was entertaining, to say the least. But Max and I ...” You trail off, not sure how to put your relationship into words.

“It’s alright,” Daniel nods understandingly and for a moment you actually think he might stop scheming to get the two of you together. But then he winks, “Sometimes the best things take time.”

***

“Formula 1 is as much about connections off the track as it is on,” Lewis begins, his voice smooth, measured, a practiced art in front of the cameras during the press conference. Flashbulbs click and reporters scribble notes. “Sometimes those connections are ... more than what meets the eye. Wouldn’t you agree?”

You raise an eyebrow. Next to you, Max shuffles slightly awkwardly.

Before you can answer, Lewis continues, eyes glinting with mischief, “For instance, teams with two drivers who might be ... more than just teammates?” His gaze flits subtly between you and Max, a tiny smirk playing on his lips.

Max laughs it off. “Talking about you and George? Or was it back with Nico?”

A ripple of laughter flows through the conference room and you bite back a smile, appreciating Max’s deflection.

Lewis grins, completely unfazed. “Good one. But no, I’ve heard some rumors about another team ... one that rhymes with Bed Rull, perhaps?”

Now you feel the need to intervene, “Rumors are just that, Lewis. Rumors. Max and I are teammates, good friends. Nothing more.” You keep your voice light but firm.

“But isn’t it interesting,” Lewis ponders aloud, “how two people can spend so much time together, share so many experiences, practically think with the same brain, and still not notice a ... deeper connection?”

Max’s eyes meet yours briefly, a momentary search for an answer, a reaction perhaps. But as quick as the look is, it’s gone.

After finishing up with media, Charles shoots a dimpled smile your way. “Quite the interview by Lewis, huh? He’s not usually one for gossip.”

You laugh. “Trying to stir the pot, I guess. Maybe he’s bored? Everyone loves a good love story.”

Charles nods, his gaze a bit more serious. “But sometimes … sometimes rumors are built on a foundation of truth. Even if you don’t see it.”

You mull over his words but before you can respond, Max joins the conversation. “Is everyone becoming a relationship expert these days or something?”

Charles just shrugs with an impish grin. “Maybe we all just want to see our friends happy.”

The comment gives you pause. Is that all this is? Friendly teasing? Or is there something more you’re missing? Something right in front of you that you’re not seeing?

But for now, as you and Max head back towards the Red Bull motorhome, you push those thoughts aside, determined to focus on the upcoming race and the challenge it presents.

***

“Fancy seeing you here!” Your team principal greets you, his tone feigning surprise as you walk into the upscale restaurant.

Max squints at him suspiciously. “You invited us both here, Christian.”

“Yes, a lovely team dinner. Just the three of us,” Christian confirms with an overly innocent smile as he guides you both to a table by the window.

The setting is intimate, with soft lighting and plush seating. A live harpist is serenading diners. It’s definitely not your typical “team dinner.”

“Christian,” you muse aloud, “this place looks a tad extravagant for a casual dinner, does it not?”

He shrugs, a smile still in place. “Consider it a treat for the team’s recent successes.”

Before you can continue your line of questioning, a waiter approaches to take your orders. You and Max share a conspiratorial glance.

“I’ll have the lobster bisque to start. With extra lobster,” Max begins, deciding to indulge.

“I’ll take the osetra caviar. You can bring the entire tin. With extra blini,” you add, grinning as you see Christian’s eyes widen.

Christian clears his throat. “Well, I actually just remembered an urgent call I have to take. Enjoy the meal, you two.” And with that, he hurries away, leaving you both chuckling.

Max leans in with a whisper, “Do you think he’s up to something?”

“Absolutely. Let’s make him pay ... literally. He did say it’s on him.”

Safe to say that you both enjoy the finest dishes the restaurant has to offer. “At this rate,” you joke as the waiter opens your second bottle of ridiculously expensive wine, “Red Bull is going to break the budget cap because of catering. Again.”

Throughout the meal, you and Max discuss the recent upgrades to your cars, dissecting each detail with genuine interest and passion. The conversation flows easily but is entirely centered on racing.

Unbeknownst to you both, scattered around the restaurant are various team members and drivers in disguises, watching your every move. From Daniel donning a fake mustache as he pretends to be a waiter to Yuki wearing a chef’s hat peeking out of the kitchen, they’re all there and all invested in the outcome of the evening.

From his spot behind the bar, Lando, sporting a terrible wig, groans. “They’re just talking about tire degradation! This is so frustrating.”

Charles, disguised as a saxophonist with a carefully trimmed goatee, chimes in, “I thought this would be it. This setting is perfect.”

Back at your table, you raise your glass. “To another successful season and having amazing teammates.”

Max clinks his glass against yours, laughing. “Cheers to that!”

As you leave, completely oblivious to your undercover audience, the collective sigh of exasperation from the team members is almost audible even over the live music.

***

“What’s this?” You lift the elegantly wrapped package from your locker, examining the tag which reads: From Fernando - Enjoy the relaxation.

Max, peering over your shoulder, also pulls out a similar package from his locker. “Looks like we both got gifts.”

Ripping open the delicate paper, you pull out a luxurious pamphlet. The cover boasts a serene image of a spa, complete with candle-lit rooms and peaceful landscapes. Max’s eyes widen as he realizes he’s got the same one.

“A couples spa retreat?” Max reads aloud, an eyebrow raised in amusement. “Really?”

Fernando, passing by at that exact moment, grins cheekily. “Thought you two could use some relaxation and a day off the track.”

“Very thoughtful of you,” you reply, peering up at him skeptically, “But why a couples retreat?”

Fernando shrugs, the picture of innocence. “It had the best reviews. Just trying to be a good friend.”

Max laughs, rolling his eyes. “Well, thanks for the ... thoughtful gift. Might as well use it.”

And so, you find yourself at the spa, wrapped in plush robes as the gentle hum of soft music and flowing water fills the air.

Max, his feet soaking in a warm tub and a clay mask setting on his face, looks over at you. “You think this was another one of their schemes to get us together?”

You laugh, dipping your toes into the fragrant water. “At this point, nothing would surprise me.”

The day goes on with various treatments — massages, scrubs, and mud baths. But instead of talking about personal lives or diving deep into emotions, you both end up discussing the possible benefits of the treatments.

“You know,” Max muses as he receives a deep tissue massage, “this technique might help with muscle fatigue after long races.”

You, getting a foot massage, nod in agreement. “Absolutely. And the mud bath we took earlier? Might help with detoxifying after particularly sweaty race weekends.”

The spa therapists, used to couples sharing intimate moments, are clearly bemused by your discussions.

Later, as you both relax in the sauna, Fernando sneaks a peek through a small window, hoping to catch a romantic moment. But to his chagrin, he finds you both animatedly discussing the aerodynamics of your cars.

“Did you notice the slight drag on the left during the last turn?” You ask, wiping away sweat.

Max nods. “I’ve been meaning to bring that up. We need to discuss that with the team.”

Fernando sighs, leaning against the wall outside the sauna. “They’re hopeless,” he mutters to himself.

He approaches you both later, looking slightly defeated. “So, the spa day? Did it perhaps help ... bring you two closer?”

You smile, patting him on the shoulder. “It was amazing for our driving techniques. Thanks, Fernando.”

Max nods in agreement, “Best spa day ever. We’re thinking of making it a regular thing.”

Fernando groans, realizing that his plan, like all the others, has somehow backfired. “I give up. You two are impossible.”

***

“Beach volleyball? Seriously?” Max raises an eyebrow, looking at the makeshift court that Lando and George have set up on the sand.

George grins, passing a volleyball between his hands. “Thought it’d be a fun way to unwind. And we’ve set the teams so it’s fair and ... interesting.”

Lando winks. “You and Y/N are paired up, of course. We thought you two could use some quality time together.”

You roll your eyes but can’t help the smirk that forms on your lips. “Let me guess, another one of your schemes to play matchmaker?”

Lando feigns shock. “Us? We would never.”

You laugh, pulling Max towards your side of the makeshift court. “Alright then, let’s do this. Prepare to be schooled, boys.”

What was meant to be a friendly match quickly turns intense. Max and you make a formidable team. The chemistry on the track seamlessly transitions to the sand, both of you equally competitive and always anticipating the other’s next moves.

“I didn’t know you two were this good!” George pants, hands on his knees as he tries to catch his breath.

You wink at him, taking your position. “There’s a lot you don’t know about us.”

Neither you nor Max are willing to give an inch. Diving saves, powerful spikes, and clever feints — you both are in it to win it.

Lando, gasping and covered in sand, mutters to George, “This was supposed to be fun. Not an Olympic match.”

The final point arrives, with you and Max at an advantage. Lando, attempting a weak serve, sends the ball perfectly to you. With a powerful run-up, you spike the ball back directly towards him. It’s fast, precise, and ... it ends up hitting Lando square in his balls.

He collapses on the hot sand, groaning. The surrounding crowd winces empathetically but you and Max? You both burst into uncontrollable laughter, falling to your knees for an entirely different reason.

“Lando!” George rushes to his side, a mix of concern and amusement on his face.

Still on the ground, Lando whines, “There go my chances of ever having kids.”

Max, between fits of laughter, manages to say, “Sorry, mate. But that was ... epic.”

You nod in agreement, offering Lando a hand. “Next time, be prepared if you’re going to challenge us. We don’t do things by halves.”

Lando takes your hand to pull himself up. “Noted. No more volleyball with you two.”

***

“Whoa,” Max blinks, staring at his phone screen. “Did you just text me?”

You frown, looking up from your own phone. “No, why?”

He shows you the screen where a message pops up, supposedly from you:

I’ve been meaning to tell you

I think I have feelings for you

Your eyes widen in shock. “I definitely didn’t send that. Wait …” You check your phone, finding a similar message supposedly from Max:

Ever since we became teammates, I’ve felt something more

Do you feel the same?

Confused, you show Max the message. The two of you exchange bewildered glances. “What is happening?” He asks, genuinely perplexed.

You shake your head. “Someone must think it’s funny to play a game with us.”

From a distance, behind the pit wall, Pierre Gasly is trying hard to suppress his laughter, watching the two of you. He nudges Charles who is next to him. “Do you think they bought it?”

Charles grins, “Knowing those two, they will probably figure it out. But it was worth the shot.”

Back at your spot, Max raises an eyebrow, “Did you by any chance get a new number recently?”

You nod. “Yeah, last week. Remember I gave it to you when we flew in? But only the team and our friends have it. Who would pull such a prank?”

Max smirks, “I have a few suspects in mind.”

You both decide to play along, typing away furiously. Max’s smirk grows wider with every passing second. “Let’s see how much our prankster likes the cards being reversed.”

Minutes later, Pierre’s phone buzzes. It’s a message from Max:

I’m so relieved you feel the same

How about dinner tonight?

Somewhere private?

Pierre’s eyes widen in surprise. He quickly checks your supposed response:

Of course I do!

Can’t believe we waited this long to admit our feelings

See you tonight? Let’s meet in the lobby for drinks and maybe dessert if you’re lucky ❤️

Pierre gulps, shooting a panicked look at Charles. “I think I’ve made a huge mistake.”

Charles snickers. “Oh, this is going to be good.”

Later in the day, Pierre approaches with guilt basically stamped across his forehead. “Look, about the texts you got …”

You grin. “Figured it out, did you?”

Max chuckles, clapping Pierre on the back. “Nice try but despite what you may think, we’re not complete idiots. ”

Pierre sighs in relief. “Honestly, I thought I might have ignited something real for a moment there.”

You laugh, “I would hope any grand confession of love I receive happens through something other than sneaky texts.”

Pierre nods, smiling sheepishly. “Fair enough. But hey, if you ever do decide to go for a romantic dinner, let me know. It’s on me.”

Max grins, “Deal.”

***

The paddock is transformed. A massive screen is set up, loungers and bean bags are spread around, and fairy lights dangle from above as a large screen and projector take center stage.

“Rom-coms?” Max squints at the list Charles is holding, a collection of the cheesiest, most cliche romantic movies available.

Charles grins, unashamed. “Best way to set the mood, right?”

You laugh, “Still trying to make Lestappen happen?”

Charles blushes. “That was one time! Besides, I have moved on to more ... realistic goals.”

Lando pops up from behind a popcorn stand, “Like getting you two to finally see what’s right in front of you.”

You roll your eyes, playfully pelting a handful of popcorn at his head. “Enough with the matchmaking.”

The movie starts and it’s clear that every spot has been strategically taken, leaving just one chair available. Daniel points to your teammate with a deceivingly innocent expression, “Why don’t you sit on Max’s lap? Save space.”

Max doesn’t miss a beat. “Or you could give up your seat and come sit on my lap yourself.”

The surrounding drivers erupt in laughter as Daniel smiles widely, conceding the point. You both end up squeezing into the chair somehow.

As the movie plays, instead of getting swept up in the romance, you both start dissecting it.

“Why would she run in the rain after him? That’s just asking for pneumonia,” Max comments as the heroine dashes through a downpour.

You nod in agreement, “And those heels? Totally impractical. She should have changed into boots.”

Charles groans, burying his face in his hands. “This isn’t how it was supposed to go.”

George pats his hair sympathetically, “You tried. That’s what matters.”

As the movie reaches its climax with a grand chase through the airport, you muse, “You know, airports have strict security. How did he even get to the gate without a boarding pass?”

Max nods, “And the plane? Totally off. They used the wrong model. That one can’t fly long-haul.”

Charles jumps up in exasperation. “That’s it! No more movies. You two are ridiculous.”

You grin, throwing an arm around Max. “Oh, come on. Admit it … you love us.”

Max chuckles, “Thanks for the movie night. Learned a lot about airport logistics and practical footwear.”

Charles sighs but a smile tugs at his lips. “We’re really not being paid enough for this.”

***

“Team-building exercise?” Max echoes. Both of you are seated in Christian’s office, a mysterious smile playing on the team principal’s lips.

Christian nods, gesturing to the woman beside him. “This is Dr. Amelia Foster, a top relationship expert.”

You exchange a hesitant glance with Max. “Relationship expert? But we’re not a couple.”

Dr. Foster chuckles, adjusting her glasses. “I’m not here for romantic purposes. I help partners of all kinds communicate better. Even teammates.”

Max leans forward. “So, what’s the plan?”

Christian clears his throat. “A simple session. See if there’s any room for improvement in your communication. I mean, you two are already a great team. Imagine if you were even better?”

Dr. Foster nods, opening her notebook. “Let’s start with a basic exercise. Max, describe how you feel when Y/N makes a risky move.”

Max thinks for a moment. “Concerned, I guess. I trust her skills but I also worry about her safety.”

You smile, touched. “And I feel proud when Max nails a difficult maneuver. He has an instinct during races that is unmatched.”

The session continues, delving into how you view each other’s strengths, weaknesses, and driving styles. As the conversation flows, Dr. Foster introduces various communication techniques.

“Now, let’s practice active listening,” she suggests. “Y/N, tell Max something, and Max, you’ll repeat it back in your own words.”

You nod. “Alright. Sometimes, when we’re racing side by side, I wish you would give me a tiny bit more space.”

Max considers then responds, “You’d like me to be a bit more cautious and ensure you have enough room during close races.”

Dr. Foster claps her hands. “Excellent! See? It’s about mutually understanding and validating each other’s perspectives.”

By the end of the session, both of you are genuinely engrossed in the exercises, seeing the potential benefits for your on-track dynamic.

As you both leave, Max turns to you, excitement in his eyes. “That technique where we visualize the other’s perspective? That could be a game-changer during races!”

You nod in agreement. “Absolutely! And the active listening can help during debriefs. Ensure we’re always on the same page.”

Christian, waiting outside, is initially hopeful upon seeing your animated discussion. “So, did the two of you ... connect?”

Max grins, “Oh, we did! I think our communication on the track is going to be better than ever.”

Christian sighs, realizing his matchmaking attempt has gone astray once again. “Not quite what I had in mind but I’ll take it for now.”

***

“I swear, rain at a race weekend is the universe’s way of telling us to slow down,” you quip, leaning back in your chair as the rain pours outside.

Max chuckles from his seat next to you. “Or it’s just weather. But I prefer your explanation.”

The sound of the rain has already lulled a group of mechanics to sleep. There’s an unexpected calm with the usual bustle of the race on hold.

You pull out your phone, browsing your music. “Let’s trade favorite songs. Bet I can surprise you with my taste.”

Max opens his own music app. “Challenge accepted.”

You play an indie track that has become your recent favorite. Max listens thoughtfully, “Never pegged you for an indie fan.”

You shrug, “Life’s full of surprises. Your turn.”

He selects a familiar classic rock track that makes you grin. “Bohemian Rhapsody? Really?”

He smirks, “Told you, surprises.”

“I’m mostly just surprised it’s not 33 Max Verstappen,” you tease.

As the afternoon stretches on, the music transitions to shared stories. You talk about your childhood, the early days of karting, the struggles, and triumphs. He shares his own tales, moments that shaped him, the highs and lows of his journey.

“Remember our first race as teammates?” He asks, a soft smile playing on his lips.

You laugh, “How could I forget? You almost ran me off the track.”

He chuckles, “Defensive driving. But you held your ground. Earned my respect that day.”

“And you earned mine,” you reminisce. “Not just as a driver but as a person.”

The atmosphere shifts, the mood turning contemplative. The stories become more personal, more intimate. You share your fears, dreams, and hopes. The raw honesty of the moment creates a bridge, a connection neither of you realized was missing.

Max looks at you, his gaze intense. “You know, despite all the teasing from the others, the setups, and the jokes, I never stopped to really see ... us.”

You nod, feeling a warmth spread through you. “I’ve been so focused on the track, on our partnership as teammates, that I never paused to consider the possibility of ... something more.”

He reaches out to gently take your hand, sending a jolt of electricity up your arm. “Maybe it’s time we did.”

You look into his eyes, seeing your own emotions reflected back, and smile. “Maybe it is.”

***

The roar of the crowd is deafening as you both step onto the podium. The last race had been intense, with both of you claiming the top spots. Max, in first, and you, a close second. The excitement is contagious, the air electric.

Max turns to you, the gleam of victory in his eyes mirrored by another emotion that has been growing since that rainy day. Without another word, he pulls you close, capturing your lips in a kiss that feels like a victory all on its own.

The crowd goes wild, cheering and whistling. But what draws your attention as you pull away, breathless, is the reaction of the grid below.

Lando jumps up, punching the air. “Yes!”

Charles grins, clapping his hands together. “Told you it’d happen on the podium!”

Daniel, laughing, shouts, “Pay up, everyone! I had this race in the betting pool.”

Confused, you turn to Max, who shrugs, just as out of the loop.

Later, as the celebrations continue, Pierre pulls you both aside, showing a clip on his phone. It’s a video from a few months ago, all the drivers and Christian huddled together, placing bets on a whiteboard labeled When Will Max and Y/N Finally Stop Being Blind?

You laugh, watching the clip. “Of course you all managed to turn our love life into a game.”

Max wraps an arm around you. “Well, they do say racing is all about strategy and timing.”

Lando approaches with a pout. “You couldn’t wait a bit longer? I was two races off.”

Daniel, counting his winnings, smirks. “Better luck next time.”

Christian shakes his head with a laugh but pulls both of you in for a hug. “Never thought I’d be so happy to lose 50 quid. Congrats, you two.”

Surrounded by the people who spent most of the season trying to make this happen, you realize that love, like racing, has its own unpredictable course. Because sometimes, the best races aren’t on the track. They’re the ones that lead to unexpected, beautiful destinations.

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[smutstevington]

Resensitized (part 2) | Eddie Munson x Reader

(Find part one here)

Summary: Oh, how the tables have turned. Your porn star roommate is getting a little distant and weird after your night together. But don't worry - his attempts at avoiding you won't last long.

Word Count: 6.4K

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI!!! Smut (pwp), Pornstar!Eddie x Fem Reader, no use of y/n or defining characteristics, Eddie is a soft dom but has a kink for reader, grinding, pining, reader tempts Eddie and is kind of a BAMF, protected PIV sex, oral fem receiving, fingering, male self-gratification, hickies, communication/consent is sexy, things get very sweet at the end

A/N: Okay so you all loved part one and wanted more so...here we go! I tried to add what I saw requested - sub Eddie, some of his POV, the date, etc. By the way, I read ALL comments and tags, because they make me so happy. So, thank you to everyone who left feedback on part one and I hope this lives up to the hype?? xx

--------------------------------

Wait, did he just say-?

“What?” you asked, your eyes wide. His face fell.

“Uhh, shit.” He let out a breathy laugh, then jumped out of bed to put his clothes back on. “That was, uh - I don’t know why I said that.” 

As you watched him hurriedly step into his boxers, face flushed and hair a mess, you couldn’t help but notice that you’d never seen him flustered like this before. Sure, during sex, his usual composure was blown to bits by the end, but this was different.

You’d heard about the concept of “post-nut clarity” before- men who think something is a good idea when they’re horny, then immediately regret it after the fact. But you weren’t offended by Eddie’s nerves, because you knew this wasn’t him regretting that he’d had sex with you.

It was him freaking out because he enjoyed it.

Let’s be real - successfully getting Eddie to bust after he’d insisted he wouldn’t be able to made you feel like a goddess. So, instead of feeling rejected or vulnerable, you were riding high. 

“You probably said it because you want to go on a date with me,” you teased, sitting up in the bed and swinging your legs over the edge. 

Eddie looked at you, but he didn’t respond. Instead, his eyes traveled to your breasts, lingered for a moment, then widened.

“Oh, shit,” he said.

“What?”

He pointed at your chest, and when you looked down you saw several dark splotches on your skin. You chuckled.

“Well,” you responded with a sigh. “I think it was worth it. Any on my neck?”

“No! I was careful,” he replied. You eyed him accusingly. “I just got carried away at the end, there.” You smirked at each other, and you realized that despite the fact you’d had sex, the dynamic between you both hadn’t really changed. Not as much as you thought it would have, anyway.

“Well, luckily I stayed true to my word,” you replied, gesturing at his unblemished neck. He checked himself in your mirror to confirm, then nodded, impressed. You grabbed your robe from the floor and wrapped it around yourself, tying it until it was snug, then unintentionally began ogling the way his jeans hung low on his hips, his buttons and belt still undone.

“You see something you like, roomie?” he teased with a smirk. “My eyes are up here, you know.”

Your gaze snapped up to meet his as you bit your lip, guilty.

“Sorry, you’re hot,” you responded.

“And you’re drooling.” 

“Am not.”

“Are too.” 

Eddie took a step forward to close the gap between you, then dragged the pad of his thumb across the skin just below the corner of your mouth. Once again, you were mesmerized by him, your lips parting at his touch. After his thumb finished traveling along the curve of your bottom lip, his hand found a home against your cheek. 

“Eddie,” you said softly. “I would go on a date with you.”

His expression went through a series of small shifts - surprise, amusement, joy - then landed on cockiness, his lips pursed and brow raised.

“Good to know,” he replied. “We’ll, uh - We’ll talk about this more tomorrow, yeah?”

You were feeling incredibly sleepy, so you didn’t fight his avoidance of the subject. Besides, you lived together - you were bound to finish the conversation eventually.

“Okay,” you replied. “Night, Eddie.” He dropped his hand from your face, and you immediately shuddered at its absence

“Night, roomie.”

He didn’t kiss you, even though you very much wanted him to. You wanted him, in all capacities. As a roommate. As a friend. As more than that. You couldn’t quite comprehend it all in your tired state, though, so you let him leave. You heard his footsteps trail off down the hall, and you swore you heard a hesitation before his bedroom door creaked closed behind him. 

-

Fuuuuuuuucking hell. 

Eddie wasn’t supposed to feel like this. This wasn’t how he did things. He didn’t like this. 

Eddie closed his bedroom door and wished he hadn’t. He wished he’d instead stayed in your room and held you while you fell asleep and maybe fucked you a few more times because oh my god????

That was amazing. So amazing he’d nearly forgotten how the whole thing started.

He’d told you it wouldn’t mean anything. He’d told you that it wasn’t a big deal. That it was simply transactional and nothing else. 

He stayed there with his back against the door, breathing rapidly, hearing you walk down the hall and hoping you were coming to him. Instead, you went to the bathroom. He heard the toilet flush, then the sink running, then the sound of you brushing your teeth. 

You lived together. You were friends who signed a lease and who got along and had a good thing going and Eddie felt like he screwed it all up. 

He clutched his chest and let it rise and fall against his hand, his heart pounding beneath his ribs. 

Just calm down, idiot. You’re acting crazy.

He’d grown to care about you quite a bit since you’d moved in together. He loved any time schedules lined up and you got to spend time together. He loved joking around with you, and the way you let him be completely himself with no judgment. He loved how nervous you were around him after you watched his videos for the first time. That was probably his first clue that he kind of maybe liked you as more than a friend or a roommate. His second clue was less of a clue and more of a neon sign. 

Sex hadn’t meant anything to Eddie in a long time. Now it meant everything.

-

Unsurprisingly, you slept better that night than you had in months. You woke up with the sun streaming in through the windows, fresh as a daisy. 

You loved this apartment. You loved your room. You loved your roommate.

You didn’t love him like that. Actually, maybe you did. Or maybe he was just so good at sex you were getting your feelings confused. 

It was still early - Eddie would probably be asleep for a few more hours. It’s one of the reasons why you didn’t see each other much - you woke up early, made breakfast, then left to work or run errands, and he slept in until the early afternoon, worked or rehearsed with his band, then stayed up late practicing guitar or playing video games with online friends in his room. 

You walked into the kitchen to get a pot of coffee ready, then made yourself a bowl of cereal. You checked your phone to see that your horrible Tinder date had messaged you again. 

Had a lot of fun with you last night. Would you wanna do it again?

Hmm. What was the classiest and least hurtful way to say, absolutely the fuck not??

To be honest, you’d forgotten him already, even though it had only been about twelve hours since you’d hooked up. He was entirely irrelevant, now. Every other partner you’d ever had paled in comparison to Eddie. That was just a fact.

Then, you realized you’d never told your friend what happened. You had passed out so immediately you hadn’t had the chance. 

HEY GUESS WHAT

WHAT

I FUCKED MY ROOMMATE

Naturally, she called you pretty much immediately.

“Tell me everything, spare no details,” she greeted. You looked down the hall to see Eddie’s door still closed. 

“I don’t want him to hear me,” you told her.

“Wait, are you still in bed? Did this happen just now?”

“No, it was last night,” you answered, holding your phone to your ear with your shoulder so you could carry your coffee and cereal to your room. You closed the door with your foot and set everything on your desk, then sat down with a sigh. “It was the best sex I’ve ever had, no contest.”

“I’m sooooo jealous,” your friend replied. You laughed. “So, how did it start?” You sipped your coffee and leaned back in your chair, happy to recount the memory. 

“Well, I - that guy from Tinder came over, and it ended up being extremely underwhelming, and Eddie picked up on it because - um, anyway, he wanted to help me out, I guess?”

There was silence on the other end of the phone for so long, you wondered if the call dropped.

“I have so many questions,” she finally said. “Why did he pick up on it?”

“He heard my fake noises through the wall,” you answered. 

“He was listening?” she asked, a flirtatiously quality to my voice.

“Said he was curious.”

“Hmmmm.” You already knew what your friend was thinking. “And then he wanted to prove he was better than Tinder boy.”

“Yes.” She waited for you to continue, so you did. “He was all about communicating and doing exactly what I wanted him to do.”

“Hot,” she responded. “Did you - I mean, did he get you to - you know?”

“Yup,” you replied. “Four times.”

“No!”

“Yes!”

“Oh my God!”

“I know!!”

You realized that you were raising your voice, and you didn’t want to wake Eddie through the thin walls, so you calmed yourself down.

“So, what happens now?” your friend asked. “You’re going to hook up again, right? You have to. Do it for me, if nothing else.”

“Trust me, it wouldn’t just be for you,” you replied. “And I think we will. I mean, I know we will, but - well, he kind of asked me on a date after.”

“He WHAT?!”

“I was confused too!” you told her. “We’re going to talk about it more today.”

“You absolutely have to go on that date,” she said.

“Duh.” You laughed, but were interrupted by a light knock on your door. You brought your voice to a whisper. “Shit, he’s at the door. Talk to you soon.”

You put your phone down on the desk, took a deep breath and walked to the door, then opened it.

Eddie was fiddling with his rings, one corner of his mouth raised into a smile.

“You’re up early,” you noted.

“You were yelling,” he explained, his smile turning into a smirk. 

“That was not yelling,” you replied. “God, these walls are too thin.”

“That is how we got into this whole mess, isn’t it?” he teased, walking into your room and looking around as if it had changed since the night before.

“It’s a mess?” you asked. He turned around and shrugged.

“I was up all night thinking about it,” he began. “I just - it’s not a good idea - you and me starting something, I mean. It won't end well.” You laughed and rolled your eyes. “What?”

“You were the one who asked!” you pointed out. “Way to dangle the carrot in front of my face and pull it away.” He ran his hand through his hair and smiled, bashful. 

“There’s a joke in there somewhere where the carrot is my dick.” You rolled your eyes again. 

“God, Munson, get your head out of the gutter for once,” you told him. “If it’s a bad idea, why did you ask me in the first place?” 

He looked down at you, and you realized that he was wrong. It had changed things, because he’d never looked at you like this before. In an instant, he snapped out of it - clearing his throat and shaking his head.

“It doesn’t matter,” he replied. “Look, I like you. I like living with you. And you’re kinda my closest friend right now.”

“I thought you were used to fucking your friends, though,” you countered, referencing a statement he’d made in what felt like eons ago. 

“I was,” he responded. 

Two words, and yet he’d said everything he’d needed to say for you to understand the rest of his thought - I was that way, but I guess I’m not anymore. Not with you.

Well, fuck. He had a point, as much as you hated it. Hooking up with your roommate was a recipe for disaster, usually. It was why you’d resisted the idea for as long as you had.

“Okay,” you sighed. “So, I’m your closest friend, and you don’t want to mess with that.” 

“Exactly,” he agreed. You both stood there awkwardly, not really knowing where to go from there. Finally, he puffed out his cheeks and exhaled deeply. “I’m gonna go smoke.” You crumpled your face in disgust.

“Cigarettes are a bad habit,” you reminded him.

“Yeah, but I’ve got an oral fixation,” he replied.

“Oh, I know.”

He was stunned for a moment, and then you caught him fighting a smile. His tongue grazed across his upper teeth, and then he nodded.

“I guess you would,” he responded at last. He went to leave, but paused with one hand grasping the door frame and the other giving you a halfhearted salute. “Catch ya later, roomie.”

Then, he was gone. The conversation didn’t go at all the way you’d wanted it to, but whatever. It was for the best, probably. When you returned to your desk, you saw that your friend had never hung up. You brought the phone to your ear and shook your head.

“You’re too nosy for your own good,” you told her.

“He likes you,” she said.

“Yeah, but you heard him,” you continued. “It’s not happening.”

“Bullshit,” she argued. “That man is obsessed with you. You’ve totally got him hooked, but he’s pushing you away because he’s scared. It’s a tale as old as time, babe. You live together. Any attempts he has at getting over you are doomed to fail.” You laughed, then resumed eating.

“I don’t want to make him do anything he doesn’t want to do,” you said.

“You’re not,” she assured you. “You’re reminding him that he should do the thing he very much wants to do.”

“Maybe.”

“Please,” she begged. “For me. Otherwise I’ll just hear you pine about it some more, and it’s entirely avoidable.”

“Fine,” you agreed. She squealed into the phone.

“Yay!” You smiled against your coffee mug, then realized you’d actually taken one of Eddie’s this morning. “As always, keep me posted.”

“I will.”

She was probably right. Okay, she was right. Relationships and dating were things you had long given up on, ever since your horrific breakup. But one thing you knew about yourself was that, once you found someone you liked, you weren’t able to just…stop thinking about them. 

So, you decided to be a little sneaky. You wouldn’t do anything crazy, you’d just give him a few reminders on what he was missing out on. He liked you, and you liked him, and you knew with 100% certainty that you could get him to break. 

You had this in the bag.

-

Eddie was losing his mind.

For a few weeks, everything went back to normal. You were extremely level-headed, and things were how they’d always been between you. As if that one night had never happened. Which, granted, is exactly what he’d asked for, but he didn’t like it.

He thought about you all the time. He lingered in the kitchen and kept his door open on the off chance that you’d want to talk to him. He felt like a goddamn fucking idiot, honestly. It wasn’t even about the sex, he just wanted to be around you. He wanted to make you laugh. He wanted to make you blush.

But, more often than not, you were doing those things to him instead of the other way around.

He would walk into the kitchen and see you wearing an oversized t-shirt and no pants, reaching for something on the top shelf enough for the shirt to lift and reveal your cotton panties. He’d try not to stare, but he would anyway, and he’d fight the urge to fall to his knees and sink his teeth into your skin. 

He wanted to literally bite you on the ass. What the actual fuck was that about.

You’d sense his presence and look over your shoulder to confirm your suspicions, then smirk. 

“Good morning,” you’d say. 

“Morning,” he’d respond, already fighting a hard-on.

And you knew exactly what you were doing. You knew that it killed him every time you asked him to zip up your dress. You knew it made him blush when you’d come home on hot summer days and walk around in a sports bra and shorts. You knew his heart skipped whenever your playful banter turned flirtatious. You knew why his eyes focused on the edge of your coffee mug after you took a sip - because your lips had just been there. You had to know.

And then, one fateful night, he dreamt of you. 

He was at work, except you were the only other person there. He was confused at first, but then you told him that you were the one he was paired with that day. He nodded, but it felt different than all the other times he’d been told the same thing about other people. He took his shirt and pants off and tried to touch you, but you backed away, tutting and waving your finger at him. 

“Not this time,” you said. “I don’t want you to do anything unless I tell you to. Lie down.”

So, he did. He swallowed and felt his heart rate skyrocket when you climbed on top of him and rocked yourself against him. You were moaning, your eyes closed and lips parted. He wanted nothing more than to kiss you, but you weren’t going to let him. You kept your hand on his chest, holding him down, biting your lip. 

“Can I -?”

“Shh,” you cooed, focused on what you were doing. “Don’t talk.”

His cock stiffened as you continued to grind on it, and the feeling was indescribable. Your motions picked up, your hips rocking faster and faster, your moaning turning higher pitched and less controlled. 

He watched you - beautiful, sexy, incredible you - and felt the familiar feelings of his own orgasm building within him. Any moment now and he would -

“Fuck!” you cried out, your composure fully unraveling and your movements stuttering. He spilled onto his stomach immediately, feeling the warmth of that and himself and you all around him. You crashed down onto the bed, still breathing heavily, and pulled him into you. 

“Thank you,” you said, placing a quick kiss on his cheek. 

Suddenly, he jolted awake in his bed, eyes wide. 

He was sweating a little bit, but thankfully hadn’t jizzed in his boxers. He was grateful to keep up his streak of no wet dreams since his teenage years, especially since he shared a bathroom and washer/dryer with you. That would have been mortifying.

Seriously. What the fuck were you doing to him???

He decided he needed yet another cold shower - he’d been taking a lot of them recently. One would think that him still having sex with other people through all of this would have helped his situation, but it was actually quite the opposite. He didn’t want them, he wanted you. Besides, the sex he was having was for work. He did try once to hook up with one of the other actors after hours, but even that didn’t curb his desire for you in the slightest. 

He probably should have anticipated running into you on his way to the bathroom, considering you lived together and all, but somehow it took him by surprise.

“Hello,” you called to him casually from the kitchen. 

“Uh, hi,” he said, awkwardly standing in the hallway. He saw you sitting there, fully clothed and doing literally nothing remotely sexy, but he blushed anyway as if you were. 

“If you’re about to shower, just know there’s something wrong with the water heater,” you informed him.

“That’s okay,” he replied, perhaps too quickly. “I, uh - I don’t mind.” You put your phone down and looked in his direction, suspicious.

“Okay, weirdo,” you teased. “Anyway, I tried to talk to the landlord but I think he likes you better, so -”

“Uh, yeah, I’ll give him a call,” Eddie said. He pointed at the bathroom awkwardly and nodded. “I’m gonna - uh - yeah.”

Way to go, idiot. She totally knows something is going on with you.

He couldn’t worry about that yet, though. By the time he shut the bathroom door, his dick was so hard he had no choice but to deal with it. He hadn’t been this out of control horny since he was going through puberty. His face was red and his bottom lip was chapped from biting it so much. He stifled his grunts and groans to the best of his abilities, leaving the water running to mask the sound of him jerking off. 

It didn’t take long. It never did when he was thinking about you.

The shower was in fact cold, but he was too busy trying to figure out what he was gonna do to notice the temperature that much. He didn’t come up with anything by the time he was finished washing up, or even after drying himself off. He put a pair of pants on and opened the door, just to jump at the sight of you waiting for him by his room.

“You’re being weird,” you told him.

Yeah. There was no denying that fact.

“I know.” You continued, taking a step closer to him.

“You’re acting like I did when -”

“I know.” You eyed him with a smirk, then gestured for him to follow you to the kitchen. He did so blindly, even though he wasn’t sure why you needed a location change. Honestly, he would have followed you anywhere. 

“Okay, let’s talk about it,” you said, drying off the last of the dishes beside the sink. Ah. So that’s why you needed to be in the kitchen. “Did something happen? Did you find one of my videos?”

“Do you have any?” Eddie asked. He didn’t mean for it to sound desperate. He honestly was curious. But, combined with everything else, that’s how it came off.

“No,” you answered. “Not yet, anyway. So, spill. What happened?” Eddie took a deep breath and leaned with his back to the counter beside you.

“I had a sex dream about you.” You burst out laughing, your eyes squinting so much he could see the crinkles around them. He smiled, joining in with your laughter. “Don’t laugh at me!” You calmed yourself down and shook your head.

“It’s cute! That’s all,” you said. “We’ve all been there, Eds. Was this last night?” He nodded. “First one?” He nodded again. “But you’ve been acting weird around me a lot lately.”

“Woah there, detective,” Eddie replied, his hands up in defense. “What’s with the interrogation?”

“You told me I could ask you anything,” you responded. Eddie groaned, realizing he had in fact said that. Fuck. “Does the dream have something to do with the moaning that was coming from the bathroom just now?”

Eddie’s eyes widened. Fuck these paper-thin walls. This was worse than the time he popped a boner in math class. You stared back at him, smug, and he narrowed his eyes at you. Making people flustered like this was his move, dammit.

“So, what if it was?” he asked with a shrug. You rolled your eyes.

“Just admit that you have a crush on me.” Eddie couldn’t believe how bold you were being. Once again, that was traditionally his move. The tables were turning, and it made his heart race in a way he hadn’t experienced before. Your eyebrows furrowed at his silence. “Um, sorry. Maybe I had this all wrong -”

“I absolutely, 100% have a crush on you,” Eddie answered. “That’s not a secret though. I’ve been down bad since we - I mean, you know. And it’s fucking annoying. I feel like an idiot for telling you I didn’t want to go out with you. I thought that repressing it was for the best, and maybe it is, but at this point I reeeeally don’t think I can hold out much longer. No help from you and your refusal to wear pants around here anymore, by the way. It’s like you’re trying to rile me up.”

You looked down at your oversized sweater and exposed legs, then smiled. 

“That’s exactly what I was trying to do,” you admitted. “I’m glad it worked.”

“That’s mean,” he replied, smirking. “You’re mean.”

“Yeah, but you have a crush on me, sooooo….” He chuckled, then shoved you playfully against the arm. 

“Yeah, whatever,” he responded. “Congratulations, roomie - you’ve ruined me. Let’s go on a fucking date.” You smiled, big and bright, then bit your lip. Eddie realized he’d do anything to make you smile like that any chance he got. 

“I thought you’d never ask.”

-

You settled on going out to dinner. Nothing groundbreaking, but a date’s a date. Eddie originally suggested going to the arcade and playing laser tag, but you told him that was more of a third date kind of thing. 

Secretly, you both already knew that a third date would happen, so you didn’t stress the first. It was all a formality, anyway. A symbol instead of a step. Like, you already were close friends who lived together, and you’d already had sex. So it felt like you were going in reverse more than anything.

At least that’s how you thought it would feel. Instead, it felt perfectly natural - as if this was a normal situation that went in a normal order. You laughed, you people-watched, you flirted, and all was well. 

“Your place or mine?” he teased after he’d paid the check.

“Mine,” you answered. “I don’t have sex on the first date, Edward.” Eddie snickered.

“Bullshit,” he replied. You smirked, then got your purse as you both stood up from the table. He took your hand to walk you out of the restaurant, and neither of you even really noticed you’d never done that before. 

“I’m serious, actually,” you responded. “I mean, I used to be that way. Before I moved here and had that one night stand.”

“That godawful one night stand,” he reminded you. You rolled your eyes.

“Yeah, well it led to us hooking up, so at least something good came from it.”

“Yeah, you did,” he said with a grin. “Four times, if I recall correctly?” You blushed, biting your lip at the memory.

“Has anyone ever told you how humble you are?” you joked. He laughed, nudging his shoulder into yours.

“Not once,” he responded. 

It was a quick drive home, and conversation continued to flow easily. You were talking about some movie you’d both seen as a kid when you walked through your front door, and you’d nearly forgotten that you had just come from a date. None of it felt new, somehow.

“Well, I’d say that was pretty successful,” you said once there had been long enough of a silence. You went to grab yourself a glass of water at the sink, when Eddie said something behind you that sent a chill down your spine.

“Do I get to kiss you goodnight?” 

You spun around to face him, then nodded. He closed the gap between you and put a hand at the small of your back, then laid his other hand against your cheek, his fingers wrapping around to the back of your neck. He leaned in and pressed his lips to yours - slowly, gently, respectfully.

The moment you kissed back, his composure broke. He breathed you in, parting his lips to deepen the kiss, tightening his grip on you. Your arms went over his shoulders so you could be even closer to him. His tongue grazed your lower lip, then dove past it to lick the roof of your mouth. You moaned unintentionally, then broke from him just enough to speak.

“Woah,” you said, your head spinning. 

“Sorry,” he replied, putting his forehead against yours. “Too much?”

“Not at all,” you answered. “How long have you wanted to do that?” 

“Too long,” he responded, breathlessly. “Too goddamn long.” You gave him another peck on the lips, then cherished the way he chased you when you didn’t go back in for more.

“You want me again?” you asked him, softly. He nodded.

“Yes.”

“Now?” you asked, as if you didn’t already know the answer. You could already feel him stiffening against you.

“Always.”

Within moments, his lips were on yours. His hands quickly tangled in your hair and pulled you deeper into him, your bodies flush with one another. He walked you backward until your ass hit the kitchen counter, then wrapped his arms tightly around your waist and lifted you up so you were seated. His hands abandoned the small of your back and went to your thighs, spreading them apart so he could stand between them. All the while he kissed you and touched you and and breathed into you. 

“I want to make you feel good,” he said. He was so close to your skin, you could feel the vibrations of his words. “Please let me make you feel good again.”

He nipped at your earlobe, causing you to shudder. Your eyes flashed up to the ceiling, all other thoughts fading away.

“You are,” you responded breathlessly. “You do.”

The confirmation seemed to only motivate him even more. His fingers began trailing up your skirt as he dropped to the floor, a frenzied desire in his eyes.

Ohhh lord. Seeing him on his knees for you turned you on more than you could have ever anticipated. 

“Please,” he begged, placing a quick kiss on your thigh. While it was tempting, you didn’t really want to have sex in the place where you prepared food.

“Yes,” you permitted. “But not here.”

“Why not?” he whined. “I eat here all the time.” You kicked him playfully, rolling your eyes.

“That’s gross,” you said. He stood up, grinned, and held his hand out for you to take.

“Tell me it’s gross in two minutes when I have you screaming my name again.” Your breath hitched as you took his hand and followed him to your room - you might have gone to his room instead this time, had it not been ten feet further away. You didn’t want to waste a single moment. 

“You’re dangerous, Eddie Munson.” 

“That’s what they tell me,” he replied with a smirk. “Now, take off your clothes and pick a number.” You were confused, but did as told anyway.

“Uhh, 7?” you said as you lifted your dress over your head. His eyes bore into the newly revealed parts of you - your stomach and chest and legs. 

“Pssh, easy,” he said, his gaze still fixed to you. “Let’s get this out of the way, too.” His arms went around you to unfasten your bra.

“What’s the number mean?” you wondered, shivering at his touch. Your bra fell to the floor beside your feet.

“Oh, it’s the number of times I’m gonna make you come,” he replied casually. Your eyes widened.

“What?!” In an instant, his hands groped at your breasts while his lips went back to your neck. “Eddie, I - mf,” you murmured, already succumbing to his influence. “What if I’d chosen a higher number?” Eddie broke away from your neck to look into your eyes with a smirk. You jolted when his thumb and forefinger flicked across your nipple.

“Then we would have to be here for a while,” he said. “Do you wanna change your answer?”

You stared at him, dumbly, unable to comprehend how you’d found yourself in a situation this perfect.

“Just shut up and kiss me,” you replied.

So, he did. One hand grabbed and pulled at your hair while he kissed you passionately. Then, he kissed down your jaw, to your collarbone, between your breasts, on your stomach. He left a trail of fire all the way down to your panties, your core already throbbing for him. Once he was back on his knees, he yanked your underwear down to your ankles and lifted one of your feet so you could spread your legs apart. 

His mouth was on you in seconds. No time for teasing. As he licked up your slit, you searched for something to hold onto. The only thing around was him, so you grabbed a hold for dear life, gripping a fistful of his hair. He groaned in pleasure as he tasted you, and you felt your knees buckling. He slipped a finger into you as his tongue swirled circles around your clit. He pulsed in and out of you, and your eyes rolled back into your head. You felt yourself cresting over the edge as your fingers tangled in his hair, and before you knew it you were losing your balance and falling to your knees across from him. While his head had separated from you, his finger remained buried inside you, undulating against your g-spot.

“Oh, sweet Jesus,” you muttered. You could tell that your first orgasm was just prefacing your second. “Don’t stop.” You shifted yourself until you could lie on your back against the floor. Eddie threw one of your legs over his shoulder and continued eating you out as he fingered you. Your hips grinded against him of their own accord as you moaned and squirmed beneath him. 

And then you felt that tightening deep in your stomach - just as you’d suspected - and all of a sudden you were shaking and exploding with pleasure, tears springing to your eyes.

“Fuck!” you shouted, quickly slapping your hands over your mouth to keep quiet. Eddie used his free hand to tug your arms away from your face, tutting in disapproval. 

“Don’t censor yourself, sweets,” he cooed. “I want to hear you scream.” He added another finger inside you, stretching you out. You gasped in delight. “I’ve wanted to hear it ever since that first night,” he continued. He kept his hands on you but crawled forward so his mouth could reach your breasts. He kissed one, gently. “I was hearing that pitiful excuse for sex through the walls and all I could think about was how I could fuck you better, and how you’d sound when you weren’t faking it.” He sucked right beside the last remaining hickey from the first time he’d done this. Your back arched, your heart beating so fast you were practically vibrating.

“Eddie,” you moaned. “I need you inside me right now.”

“I am inside you,” he said, flexing his fingers in a way that made your hips roll against his hand. You shook your head and reached down to his jeans, grabbing his cock and running your hand up the shaft. He stiffened, his eyes closing and motions stuttering. 

“This,” you clarified, tightening your grip. “I need this.” He groaned, then nodded.

“Fuuuuuuck, okay,” he said. He pulled his fingers out of you, licked them clean, stood up, pulled you up, then started stripping as you got a condom from your bedside table. By the time you’d retrieved it and turned around, he was fully naked and waiting eagerly to put it on. He ripped the foil open with his teeth and rolled it over his length, then sat you on the edge of the bed and lined himself up with your entrance. The corner of his mouth twitched into a smirk, his eyes dark and pupils blown out. With a final nod of your permission, he thrust himself inside you all at once.

You whimpered, your mouth falling open at the feeling of him completely filling you. Your legs wrapped around his waist, your heels crossed under his ass. He pushed himself in and out of you, guided by your feet, falling into a steady rhythm. You bit at his shoulder and neck, drawing groans of pleasure from his lips. You could feel his body getting warmer to the touch, a bead of sweat forming on his brow. You leaned back and laid down fully on the bed, and he quickly followed you. You both crawled further onto the bed until his body was stretched out and hovering over yours. You tightened your legs around him again and threw your head back, enjoying the way he continued pumping himself in and out of you. 

“Tell me that nobody else fucks you like I do,” he said in a husky tone. Your eyes were closed to keep yourself from being entirely overstimulated.

“N-nobody,” you stuttered. “Nobody fucks me like you.”

Suddenly, he was kissing you, and you were kissing him back, and he was fucking you, and you were rocking your hips against him, and his thumb rubbed at your clit, and you were coming again, and he was coming with you. Your mouths were open against each other, gasping and shaking, and then your eyes opened.

He was looking at you, really looking. As you returned his gaze, you got lost in it all. His hips stalled with his cock buried deep in you, but neither of you dared to move. You just kept looking into each other's eyes, breathing deeply, and that’s when you realized that one of your hands was interlocked with his. You kissed him again, slowly and leisurely, before sucking his bottom lip into your mouth and biting it. He moaned softly, appreciatively, then sighed.

“I lied before, about having a crush on you,” he said. You raised your eyebrows, mind still reeling from the sex.

“Oh?”

“I think it might be more than that,” he explained. “I mean, it is more than that.” Your eyes widened.

“Oh.” He waited for you to respond. “Just - give me a minute. I’m still in outer space.” He flashed a small, crooked smile, then pulled out of you slowly. After he settled back into bed, you instinctively curled up next to him, which he happily accepted. 

This was nice. This was better than nice. This was perfect.

“I know that because of my work -”

“It’s more than that for me, too,” you interrupted. You angled your head to look up at him. 

“Yeah?” he asked. You nodded.

“And I don’t know how I’m gonna feel about dating someone who has sex with other people at work,” you continued. “But right now, I don’t care. Usually, I’d be jealous, but - but I’m not.”

“You really wanna give this a shot?” he wondered, desperately trying to hide his excitement. You nodded again, smiling.

“I don’t think we have much choice,” you replied. 

“Fuck yeah,” Eddie said, grinning from ear to ear. “Let’s do this, then.”

You kissed him on the cheek, then went back to cuddling up to his chest. He hummed, content. 

He was pretty sure he loved you, but that was for another night. This night would be spent making you come another four times, as promised.

Eddie was always true to his word.

(Next part)

------------------------------

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#eddie munson smut #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie x fem!reader #resensitized

[astrosky33]

𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐂 𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐔𝐀𝐋 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐒

》 𝐈 𝐚𝐦 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐤𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐜 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐛𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐧 𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐬

》 𝐈𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮

SOULMATE

》 Two individuals souls with a deep connection. It is possible that you have multiple soulmates. Your last romantic soulmate will be your lifelong partner if you didn’t end up with your twin flame

》 If you get into conflicts you will forgive one another quickly and compromise easily because of how deep your love is for each other. Soulmates will always be there for you during the most challenging and painful points of your life

TWIN FLAME

》 One soul split into two bodies. You have a deep spiritual connection with each other and instant physical/emotional attraction towards one another when meeting. You are going to start dating then go through a lot of emotional pain and split up. During the period you are away from one another is the time you will spirituality transform then you will likely get back together resulting in an even stronger spiritual connection. This will occur multiple times

》 Twin flame connections are always a runner chaser dynamic meaning one will typically pull away causing the other to keep on continuously chasing after them. The timing will be off a lot and you will miss each other constantly during your periods of separation. The periods of separation will be very painful emotionally. You have strong telepathy and can feel each other’s emotions almost instantly even when away from each other

》 Twin flames are not meant to inflict new wounds within you. They’re meant to heal your wounds and point them out for you as they are a mirror of your worst and best qualities. This all happens in order for you both to grow and become stronger spiritually. Your twin flame will bring you closer to your purpose and divine mission. They help you become your best self

》 In most cases you won’t end up together long term unless you can resolve all your OWN negative issues and fully transform ON YOUR OWN spiritually. You need to get to a place where you are independent and not reliant off of them in order to be with them long term

》 You will never want to pick anyone over your twin flame and your twin flame will never want to pick anyone over you. Your sexual relations with your twin flame will also be the best you’ve ever had

KARMIC PARTNER

》 Similar to Twin Flames but without the soul connection and deep care for one another. You have unresolved karma from past lives that you need to resolve in this life. These people will hurt you constantly and only hold you back. These are the partners that are likely to cheat on you or that are toxic for you

》 A common misconception is that twin flames abuse or cheat on you and this is just not the case. That would be a karmic partner or nothing but a negative entity in your life. Twin flames have unconditional love for each other

》 They are meant to stay in your life temporarily then once the karma is resolved you will move on

𝗠𝗔𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧

© 𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐤𝐲 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝

#spiritual partner #twin flame #soulmate #karmic partner #spirituality #spiritual

[significant-narratives]

this fandom needs to dig in to the implications of the 1688 dynamic… they’re two hot girls making out at the bar. they’re frenemies. they’re two sides of the same coin. they’d die for each other. their draft scouting reports were both hauntingly similar and worlds apart. they both understand the weight of a legacy. one is playing a deliberate smoke and mirrors game the other is all heart all the time. eldest brother from a big family vs the youngest of two sons. holding out for a new contract for months. pay me like matthews. confusing and complex relationships with their fathers. silent playoffs point leader vs “he’s a big time guy. made for the spotlight.” also like hey quick question if you’re over me why is your new girl my narrative foil. are we seeing this? hello?

#let’s! talk! about it! #see the thing is 1688 is very sapphic friendship coded i know i’ve been there #sorry idk what this is i listened to ms olivia’s ‘obsessed’ and well. well! #1688 #william nylander #mitch marner

[zadr-day]

Why ZaDr?

Think of every worthwhile rival ship that has ever existed; dip it in a poison coating of cynical worldbuilding, sprinkle it with a topping of shunned existence, and let the devil kiss it with a waxy pair of slimy, scifi alien lips. Only then, will you  have yourself a sample of what ZaDr has to offer. These characters are compelling in themselves; one being a bizarre and paranormal obsessed clone of Earth's greatest scientific mind, the other a malfunctioning spaztic robot ant from beyond the stars. Each of them ostracized, for one reason or another, largely by virtue of their own passionate past mistakes.Those mistakes, failed efforts to be seen as worthwhile, to be praised, to be loved. But then you set them against each other, as enemies. As mirrored foils. Neither of them in the right, gray morality reigns supreme as they are  purely obsessed with their own selfish reasons for self aggrandizement. Anything “good” that might happen as a result of their actions is always cast in the light of unintended circumstance. The true fight is with reality itself, while the sharp end of that crushing conflict is pointed towards the only one who could possibly understand what they’re going through. In the world of Invader Zim, every mentor, leader, parental figure, teacher, adult, child and Invader, feels more real by virtue of misanthropic absurdity. Their inability to provide the support and guidance for the main characters to function in a healthy way, is so very like the absence of nurturing many people feel in their youth. To anyone who has experienced life at its worst growing up, these caricatures of the real world provide a powerful sense of being seen. There is something radical about a story that isn’t written with any other moral than “ this living in society shit sucks”. That speaks to people, and continues to speak to me. ZaDr has always smacked of tragedy, in that you know things will end badly for everyone involved, but it’s still impossible to look away as everything is set ablaze. Two headstrong protagonists, locked in a battle of opposing wills and addictive delusion. It makes the sweetness sweeter, it makes the pains of grand fantasy ache deeper, knowing that these two characters are ultimately fighting losing battles for pitiful reasons.The denial of personal failure, the stubbornness to find purpose. In all of reality, all they truly have is each other. To see that dynamic and ship them is to say that love is possible even in the most dire of circumstances. Time and time again I find myself returning to ZaDr. I think something about the dynamic speaks to the part of us that knows things are wrong and that the fight against it is worthwhile. And that struggle, while futile, can still hold a tremendous amount of personal importance. It speaks to failing, and having the strength to get back up to try again. No matter the odds. For a pairing hated by its own creator, the fixation that Zim and Dib have on each other is an undeniable magnetism seen by the fandom since the launch of the cartoon, all the way back in 2001. This ship has staying power, and after over two decades has failed to fall into total obscurity.  Those touched by its effects have gone on to create resonant, deeply meaningful works. This blog, and the posts that I make on the topic, are my way of giving back to the ZaDr community. By displaying the stories of triumph and tragedy put forward by the IZ community, I hope to welcome new fans and give back to long standing fans by providing a living archive and blog space. I look forward to sharing the wonderful talents of so many artists with you all. Happy first ZaDr day of many

#zadr #invader zim #zim #dib #iz #zadr-day official

[david-talks-sw]

Analyzing Qui-Gon Jinn

As I already covered here, I don't think Qui-Gon is meant to be this "'True Jedi' who's ahead of the curb and who would've prevented Anakin from joining the Dark Side had he lived". He's not "the father figure Anakin should've had". To me, that's fanon extrapolation combined with now-non-canon EU material. I can't find any evidence in any of the (many) George Lucas quotes I've read to support the idea that this interpretation of the character was the "intended narrative".

Instead, I'd argue Qui-Gon's character has three purposes.

1) Out-of-universe, functional purposes:

SHOWING THE JEDI ARE MORTALS.

In every draft of The Phantom Menace, Qui-Gon dies at the end. This mirrors Ben's death in A New Hope... but not quite. When Qui-Gon dies, his body doesn't disappear. He dies like a regular person would.

There's a reason for this.

"I wanted to convey the idea that Jedi are all very powerful, but they’re also vulnerable — which is why I wanted to kill Qui-Gon. That is to say, “Hey, these guys aren’t Superman.” These guys are people who are vulnerable, just like every other person." - George Lucas, The Phantom Menace Commentary, 1999

Qui-Gon's character is there to show the audience that - albeit being very powerful - the Jedi have limits, they have weaknesses, they can't fight a war on their own. They're not superheroes, they can be killed.

DELIVERING EXPOSITION.

Originally, Qui-Gon came in much later in The Phantom Menace.

In the first draft of the script, up until the moment when the Queen gets to Coruscant, it was just Obi-Wan, alone, on the Trade Federation ship...

... meeting Jar Jar, saving the Queen, finding and freeing Anakin and presenting him to the Council.

But it became clear to George that - especially at the beginning - the dialog was gonna be tricky because Obi-Wan alone didn’t have much to react to. Like, he'd either be completely quiet or he'd only be talking to himself.

So, when Lucas rewrote the script...

... instead of having Qui-Gon enter the story waaay later (when the gang arrives on Coruscant), George put him in the film from the start. Now Obi-Wan, has a sounding board and some of the complexities of the galaxy in the time of the Prequels can be explained as he and Qui-Gon interact.

And it's an interesting dynamic too.

Qui-Gon acts on instinct. He is wise, yet can also be reckless. He's always on the move, but sometimes that leads him into danger.

Obi-Wan acts on logic. He is very skilled and prudent... but being too prudent will lead him to being a stickler for the rules.

They complement each other perfectly, yet they both still have much to learn. Which brings me to my next point:

2) Qui-Gon is what Obi-Wan will grow beyond.

Qui-Gon says it himself.

Simply put, Qui-Gon is...

THE MENTOR'S MENTOR.

"Liam Neeson is a master Jedi, the center of the movie — just like Alec Guinness was in the first movie. When you start to cast a character like this, you think, ‘Where are we going to find another Alec Guinness? Where are we going to find someone with that kind of nobility, that kind of strength, and that kind of center?" - George Lucas, The Making of The Phantom Menace, 1999

Ben Kenobi is a new, better and improved Qui-Gon.

Thanks to the latter's teachings, Obi-Wan will learn from Qui-Gon's qualities, such as acting on instinct...

... but also from his flaws, like his tendency to rush into danger.

He even takes on some of Qui-Gon's rebelliousness, instead of always being so by-the-book.

"In the beginning, Obi-Wan is at odds with Qui-Gon, who rebels against the Jedi rules. But by the end of the film, he has become Qui-Gon by taking on his rebellious personality and responsibilities." - George Lucas, The Making of The Phantom Menace, 1999

When Qui-Gon learns the secret of transcending death, he's not able to appear physically, as his training isn't complete.

"We never see the ghost of Qui-Gon; he's not that accomplished. He's able to retain his personality, but he's not able to become a corporeal ghost.” - George Lucas, The Art of Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith, 2005, page 40

But he's able to teach Yoda, who teaches Obi-Wan... both of whom are able to show themselves.

Even with the recent changes in the Canon continuity, with Qui-Gon being able to manifest himself physically too...

... the point still stands: what took him about a decade to accomplish, Obi-Wan will eventually be able to accomplish instantly. And it's thanks to Qui-Gon's training.

So when it comes to the argument "Obi-Wan wasn't a suitable mentor for Anakin"... I'd say he was, because - for better or for worse - he studied under Qui-Gon, who acted as...

THE TRAINING WHEELS FOR ANAKIN'S TRAINING.

Here's what George had to say about Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan...

"[Qui-Gon] is very independent, always testing the rules. And we meet young Obi-Wan, who is constantly frustrated by his Master’s refusal to go along with the program." - George Lucas, The Making of The Phantom Menace, 1999

Here's what George had to say about Obi-Wan and Anakin...

"Even though he’s the stern taskmaster and mentor [Obi-Wan] still cares about Anakin [but he's] frustrated with their relationship and Anakin’s unwillingness to go along with the rules." - George Lucas, Attack of the Clones commentary, 2002

The wording is almost the same.

In training Anakin, Obi-Wan finds himself in same situation he was in with Qui-Gon... but this time he's more prepared to take on the challenge. After all: Obi-Wan's had a lot of experience dealing with this sort of personality, he's been keeping Qui-Gon from flying off the handle for over a decade.

"One of the primary issues between this relationship between Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon is that this is establishing Obi-Wan as the kind of straight arrow, the center of the movie, and Qui-Gon as the rebel, as the one who’s constantly sort of pushing the envelope. Which will switch itself in the next movie when, rather than having his master be the rebel, he has his Padawan learner become the rebel. I’m using Obi-Wan as sort of this centering device through all these movies, even as we get in with Luke and everybody else later on." - George Lucas, The Phantom Menace Commentary, 1999

3) Qui-Gon is who Anakin could've become if everything turned out okay.

I noticed this thing the other day, in The Phantom Menace, fight between Qui-Gon and Darth Maul:

Qui-Gon is pushing Maul back, he's rushing ahead... and Maul is completely in control. It's almost like he's luring Qui-Gon toward the reactor shaft and Qui-Gon is too taken by the fight to realize he's being led by the nose.

Of course, later on, Qui-Gon meditates, clears his mind, and goes back on the offensive so efficiently that Darth Maul needs to play dirty to land a blow. But that initial part? Where he's just aggressively pressuring the opponent who keeps controlling the fight by giving ground...?

That's a classic Anakin move.

A few months ago, I wrote that, as a character: Dooku is who Anakin might become if he strays from the right path.

Imma take it further and argue that, conversely: Qui-Gon is who Anakin could be if he stays on the right path.

Just like he does with Dooku, Anakin has a bunch of similar traits and parallels with Qui-Gon, and they're clearly intentional.

VISUAL PARALLELS:

From simple stuff like the length of their hair...

"George wanted Anakin to look more like Qui-Gon Jinn, to show that he was going beyond what Obi-Wan was teaching him -- hence the long hair." - Iain McCaig, The Art of Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith, 2005, page 45

... or the fact that Anakin and Qui-Gon are aggressive fighters who'll punch opponents in the face during a lightsaber duel...

"There's a line of training through Darth Tyranus and Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan and Anakin. You can follow that line, and there's an aggressive fault in that line. Mace isn't of that line, and that allows you to give him unique talents." - Nick Gillard, StarWars.com, Homing Beacon #126, 2004

... even their funerals are the same.

"The end of [Return of the Jedi] is Anakin at a funeral pyre, just like Qui-Gon is [in] here. So I wanted to keep those motifs— again, things to harken back to things that had been going on in the movie. We then have this moment, which is very important, where Obi-Wan commits, and tells Anakin that he’s going to train him, because that’s where the rest of the movie go." - George Lucas, The Phantom Menace Commentary, 1999

SIMILAR CHARACTERIZATIONS:

As mentioned in the previous section, they're both rebellious and have trouble following the rules... which can put them at odds with the Council, at times.

They're not perfect, sometimes they can be rash and impulsive. For example, George describes Qui-Gon's decision to have Anakin be trained as "controversial", "wrong" and "dangerous."

But unlike Anakin, Qui-Gon's rebellious nature isn't motivated by arrogance, like Anakin in Episode II, but by a drive to help as many people as possible. Qui-Gon is selfless, goes with the flow, trusts the Will of the Force, whereas Anakin has trouble letting go of his selfish desires and is determined to impose his will on the natural cycle of life and death.

Also, Qui-Gon is usually able to re-center himself when he slips. There's a peace and calm to him that Anakin still needs to acquire.

To be fair, Qui-Gon is a trained Jedi Master. Whereas Anakin's training was sabotaged by a Sith Lord almost every step of the way.

But the fact remains that if Anakin learned to let go of his attachments, if he can face the mirror and conquer his inner demons... he'd be what Qui-Gon is:

An incorruptible Jedi who follows the Light for the simple reason that it is the Light, no matter what.

A street-wise, kind man with a talent for spotting diamonds in the rough and listening to the mythological "Guide" archetypes.

A ferocious but extremely talented lightsaber duelist with the ability to center himself and stay on target. More quick on the draw than your average Jedi, but for all the right reasons.

Someone with a special connection to the Force, someone with the gift of foresight, who feels rather than thinking.

So that's who Qui-Gon really is. He is what Anakin could be.

And that's where Obi-Wan and Palpatine come back in (the good father figure and the bad father figure, the man who kept Qui-Gon grounded and the man who corrupted Dooku)... depending on whose guidance Anakin listens to the most, he'll either be the next Qui-Gon or the next Dooku.

#qui-gon jinn #meta #george lucas #anakin skywalker #jedi order #star wars #obi-wan kenobi #sw meta #jedi #qui-gon #qui gon/obi wan #anakin #sw #dooku #disaster lineage #lucas quotes #collection of quotes #long post #analysis

[inchidentally]

Something that i really noticed with that last video mclaren posted, the way oscar talks when he’s around lando vs how he talks when he’s alone. Like that aussie vs british words video which was probably filmed not that long ago from now, oscar is completely showing his sass and not holding back at all with his thoughts, doesn’t even care what the interviewer finds weird (obviously still in a respectful way, bc he was raised right) But when he’s with lando it’s like he reigns himself back because he wants to relish in lando’s sass instead, he wants to hear his thoughts and he’s genuinely interested in him and what he’s saying. Everyone keeps saying we miss prema Oscar, but prema oscar never left, based on that video he’s obviously still like that. it’s not even that he wasn’t comfortable enough as a rookie or not well settled in yet to show his character in his first year or that he was only following lando’s lead(which he was to some extent) but it’s been an entire season and he STILL waits for lando to speak first and waits for him to finish his sentences with exceptionally long pauses. He just loves hearing him. And even with lando’s tendency to ramble sometimes and oscar wioild still listen to a meaningless ramble from him bc he adores him. Sigh

They’re made for each other(I’m delusional)

OKAY BUT I hear you so much anon and I just want to lead into smth that has been cooking around for me about this since I fully agree w you, the Oscar we see with Lando is curiously different and quieter than Oscar with anyone else.

and I think this comment on the latest video hit the nail on the head?? in a way the person prob didn't think was that deep ??

bc of speaking the same language to the point of semi-mind reading but now ugh you've got to bring Other People along on your conversations and translate everything..........

so like y'know how Lando and Max F always look a little like they're going to burst out laughing when they have to put on their on-camera personalities in a Quadrant video? when you're around a close friend where you both normally speak in like half sentences bc you don't need to fill in the rest, it gets weird when you have to translate all of that out loud for the benefit of other people watching?

seeing Lando and Oscar's relationship develop over the season and now into the new one with this interview, I'm actually starting to think that's way more the case w them as well. we all joke about the twinning and unconscious mirroring but it makes all kinds of sense that considering how similar Oscar and Max F are in many ways that Lando would have a similar dynamic with Oscar - where it's not always easy to include the general public and have to bring all of us along.

the like, overlapping sentences and watching each other's expressions thing is so similar in both those relationships as well. same as when Lando is in A Mood where he's either hyper or giddy or low-blood sugar argumentative and Oscar and Max are basically following around after him like adults making sure a worn out toddler doesn't smash their head into sharp edges lahflashf.

and with the other F1 Lando friends like Carlos, George, Daniel Alex, Yuku, Max V etc, Lando is fully a gossipy chatterbox and pretty high energy - even when they're filmed casually or candidly. those friendships revolve around F1 and shared activities like padel, golf, gossip or going out/partying. it isn't that guys like Max F or Oscar couldn't easily slot in with those groups, I just think it's more that they're a different type of friendship with Lando. the streams don't usually cross in Lando's life, or very very occasionally. and I feel like he's even said he likes keeping the different parts of his life a bit separate?

so initially it kind of threw a lot of us when he seemed so relatively quiet and less of his usual 'on camera personality' around Oscar rather than seeing his usual teammate Lando Effect of jumping into a bromance, leaning into humor and figuring out a shared activity. and that usually includes lots of social media content together for fans.

but Lando and Oscar never post about when they hang out - even when 'contractually obliged' - and we only find out incidentally or bc someone else mentions it or posts pics. and from what we do find out incidentally, it makes you wonder about what else we're missing. it's just the usual things that a lot of drivers do together but Lando and Oscar prefer not to broadcast it for some reason.

and when you think about it both Oscar and Lando keep a certain percentage of their lives strategically offline already (Oscar way more obv) and it's like they automatically inserted each other into that part of each other's social life rather than a fan-facing one?

like obviously I'm just going off what we can see but they've been pretty damn consistent about it. Lily is obv a major part of Oscar's life and he has this whole set of close friends from boarding school who've gone to races as well as a set of old friends back in Australia - but apart from the occasional post of Lily, we only know any of that part of his life from Oscar mentioning it in passing or incidentally from a post by someone else or a fan sighting. Lando has a whole existence with close friends in Monaco that fans have tried and failed to squirrel out that Lando himself only mentions in passing and never posts about. he posts Martin but goes very shy and doesn't want to talk about him or their friendship in interviews.

and then Lando and Oscar have all these little in-joke moments and watching each other super closely and almost actively concealing the time they spend together that isn't requisite… and then little touching moments like Lando posting Oscar giving him a small smile on lando.jpg as the first slide so that the black heart caption sits underneath. and Oscar staying up all night after Vegas liking comments about Lando's crash and leaving that little papaya heart under the post of McLaren announcing that Lando was discharged safe and sound from hospital. at like 5am and apparently either when Lando was with him or after he'd left him.

idk it's just such a weird case of kismet that Oscar became a serious Lando fan when they were 14 and 16 respectively, their karting journeys both went through Ricky Flynn, Oscar and Max F knew each other in the Renault Academy, their paths crossed in an interview where Lando (who doesn't really talk much about the junior categories) said "not yet" when asked if they'd raced each other. and then Oscar arrives against a LOT of odds as Lando's new teammate and he's got zilch in common with Carlos or Daniel for Lando to fall back on and it's the worst start to the season of Lando's entire career… yet it ends up being the most immediately strong partnership Lando's ever had ?? there's no mixed dynamic to overcome or huge disparity in anything, not even an age difference and they share a double podium not once but twice while Oscar is still a rookie ??

and like, Oscar's in so many ways set up to fit in perfectly with the more low-key friendships Lando has in his non F1 life. bc from what it seems, Lando likes hanging out at home playing games and eating takeout and just chilling quietly as much as he does the glamour of F1 and touring the world and being a businessman. and I feel like he's even said somewhere how he needs to have that balance in his life rather than just being an F1 guy or just being the guy who stays at luxury resorts with famous friends.

so this separate little world that even casual fans seem to pick up on feels like it's because they genuinely fit together so well as people but also happen to make extraordinarily great teammates and I get why Lando keeps bringing up what will happen when they're battling for a WDC with that worried little shadow over his face bc it's one thing to have a bromance buddy teammate where you can shove each other around and laugh and hug off the tension… totally another when it's someone you feel is so similar to you and feel so strange when you're both having to pretend to talk 'normally' on camera and even weirder imagining you both on separate sides of a competition rather than joined together for it ???

like, they wouldn't necessarily have known each other if they weren't teammates and as teammates they're both talking about WDCs in cautious but confident tones and saying how they have 'years together' but also the tension of being each other's biggest competition and measure of success without any of the usual bro-ey fun of being Good Mates or Cabrones bc Lando and Oscar aren't bros and they're not dudes and they don't shove each other around or make loud jokes so how do you diffuse tension when you can psychically sort of connect and the bleed of what you want for each other and yourselves doesn't have that easy delineated relationship boundary bc Lando and Max have had to delicately and carefully navigate something similar and they couldn't just crack a joke or slap each other on the back in a hug and sort it all out bc that's now how they are together they actually talk and they make considered kind and gentle effort and it's too embarrassing to tell people about that unless you feel absolutely safe and chat is unusually chill and idk idk idk the similarities with Lando and Oscar and the complexities man !!!!!

idk as per usual this JUST my brain chewing all of this over and is NOT me thinking I actually know what's going on but it sure helps to offload it here where I know some of us will prob be like 'oh yea I get what that btch is saying' <3<3

#inchreplies #inchidentallyanessay #man !!!!

[inkstainedhandswithrings]

TBB S3 Ep 5 Thoughts!!

Love Omega’s new outfit

Batcher hanging out with Cross then, I see

Cross is like the dad who continuesly goes “NO PET” and then when you do get a pet they’re suddenly besties

“ITS ECHO” “perfect”

Ah, the duality of man

Love how there’s no end to this dynamic

“What? No hug for me?” “That depends how good your intel is.”

LOVE Echo matching Cross’s causal sass

These two are gonna push against each other a lot huh?

Yanno, given all the promo material, I was kinda expecting Rex to be with Echo when he arrived (hoping phi, the word is hoping.) (she’s delulu.)

“Especially without Tech” 😭😭😭😭

No surprise reactions from Cross through. Means he already knows.

But also, Cross coming in with the solve <3

Is Hunter,,,, JEALOUS??? of the fact that Omega is spending so much time with Cross? Like that SIDEYE when they walked past each other on the platform

Like, God forbid Omega spent time with the member of the squad who everybody is always suspicious of and spends the most time alone

BUT ALSO!!!

“Don’t hold it against him. His only worried about you.” CROSS YOU BIG ‘OL SOFTY!!!

“I’m older than you are, little brother.”

THE CHUCKLE

AND WRECKER GIVING BACK CROSS’S ARMOUR AAAAAAAHHHH

oooohhh the girls are fighting

“Hey, kill each other later.” SIR THE WAY I CACKLED BYE ✋🏻

“He started it.” Sir, are you 5?

MAYDAY’S HELMET

Echo not wanting Omega to see the straight up Bitch fight between Hunter and Cross

TELL HIM CROSSHAIR!!!!!

Jesus Christ, fucking finally

I wrote a post at some point about Cross becoming the mirror held up to Hunter in which he can view his own shortcomings because of his adamant refusal to change AND ITS HAPPENING

“I risked everything to send you that message and you ignored it.” THIS

Hunter’s mistrust in Cross played a big part in Omega getting captured, but also ofc Cross thinks the message was fully ignored, because no one came to save him either

Also Cross just not hiding anymore that he’s always cared for Omega too I LOVE

Love how quick they put that plan together

Batch is Batching :) (almost) (Tech, my love, come back)

“We’ll try to dig through.” “You’ll try?” “Glad you heard me properly.” I AM WHEEZING

Cross patting Batcher

BIG ‘OL SOFTY

Say did Hunter abandon the bandana for a god damn leather strap

wtf

Cross and Hunter walking back to base side by side, when the last time Cross was walking back to this base was with Mayday dying in his arms🥺

Wrecker hugging them both

AAAAAHHH

“See? They always work it out. And I don’t even see any blood this time.”

EXCUSE ME??

i am worried.

Blood??

Was typical??

Jesus Christ

Don’t know how much I appreciate Hunter getting on a high horse and giving Cross advice

Bird flying away from Cross After always being with him on that base, like the shadows of his past leaving his life, now that this period of his life is over (also sun setting, signifying the day is over)

Good symbolism yes

Okokok good episode! Tbh I thought “The Return” would be Echo’s permanent return to the Batch, but narratively that wouldn’t’ve made sense for him anyway. And I am LOVING the fact that it is actually Crosshair’s return to the turning point in his life, followed by his full return to the batch. Like yeah, last ep they re-met, but he hadn’t fully arrived until the end of this episode and GAAAAHHH I love it!

Also the dialogue is just totally A1 chefs kiss mwah this season (or maybe I just appreciate sarcasm)

Loved this one!! Would love to tag Saturn and Steph because I wanna see their thoughts of Echo being back but idk if they’ve seen the ep already and I don’t wanna spoil them so,,, idk guys if you see this hmu lol

#LOVED THIS ONE #good storyline good symbolism good dialogue #they are stepping UP this season #and that confrontation between cross and hunter? #gonna go rewatch that now bc that was some good shit there #star wars #the bad batch #sw tbb #tbb crosshair #tbb Omega #tbb wrecker #tbb Echo #tbb Hunter #tbb s3 #tbb s3 spoilers #tbb spoilers

[where-is-francis]

𝙏𝙪𝙣𝙣𝙚𝙡 𝙊𝙛 𝙇𝙤𝙫𝙚 —♡-> 𝘽𝙞𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝙃𝙖𝙧𝙜𝙧𝙤𝙫𝙚

Before You Interact — Rules of My Blog

𝙋𝙧𝙤𝙢𝙥𝙩: Part of my Valentine’s Day 2023 blurb series

𝙋𝙧𝙤𝙣𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙨: They/Them — fem/fem aligned DNI, you have plenty of stuff

𝘼/𝙉: I dedicate this to my one and only Shrimp Punch *bows and tips hat* anyways just to make it clear I don’t support Billy’s actions/ideas from S2/S3 in any way, shape, or form — this is more of a “he lived after the accident and decided to try and be a better person” type thing. Which is pretty much the only way I’m willing to write for him.

𝙏𝙒: None!

The sight of 𝘽𝙞𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝙃𝙖𝙧𝙜𝙧𝙤𝙫𝙚 standing in the arcade used to seem foreign to everybody at one point, but now they didn’t pay much attention to him. You, however, made up for that by giving him a lot of attention. Pretty much anybody who was spending the holiday alone found themselves at the arcade, the only difference with you was that it was your job. Billy had just stomped out his cigarette in the parking lot and nudged the door open, effectively ringing the bell.

You turned from the back counter and leaned over the prize booth, shooting him a wide smile when you saw who it was.

“Well well well, if it isn’t my favorite devil. Where’s your DigDugging sidekick?”

“Had a date with Sinclair. Just me today.” He mirrored your pose against the counter.

It was surprising to see him like this. He was calm and fairly relaxed, but that seemed to become his new normal since the accident. Since he didn’t have to worry about Neil breathing down his neck anymore. Your eyes traced the hanging chain of the necklace he always wore and how it seemed to shine in blues and greens from the lava lamps behind you.

“To be honest, I’m surprised they’re not here trying to kick each other’s asses at skee-ball.”

Billy grinned at that. “Well, there’s always next week. Maybe Sinclair won’t leave with a bruise this time.”

“Ah, young love!” You sighed dreamily. “Speaking of which, c’mere.”

You flipped up the hinged section of the counter and led the blonde through a few loners and over to a new machine. It was dark red, covered in hearts, and had a flashing marquee sign on the top. Above the coin slot and at the height of your hips was a board with two large hand-shaped screens.

“‘Love Tester’? Yeah, looks like a real fun time.” Billy rolled his eyes.

The blue eyed male watched as you grabbed a quarter from the pocket of your work vest and slotted it in the machine. All of the lights came on and scattered a bit to show the main screen of the different ratings you could get. Billy couldn’t so much as think before you grabbed his left hand and forced it down to one of the prints on the board, following by doing the same with your right hand.

He watched, a bit stunned, as the lights climbed up and down at a rapid pace. It went from the bottom, holding the lowest score of ‘harmless’, all the way to the top where it read ‘hot stuff!’ in all caps. It wouldn’t have been a lie to say he liked you and the dynamic you shared, it was different to anything he’d had before. As much as his jokes and comments were biting and flirty, yours were just as much so. Billy had a strong sense of where he stood with most people, but you were unreadable.

The lights on the Love Tester slowed a bit before finally settling on your compatibility score:

The top match — Hot Stuff.

Neither of you said anything and instead just stood in disbelief, with Billy occasionally shifting on the wild and fluorescent carpet. Below the coin slot in a larger horizontal slot, a pink card had been printed out with the results. You grabbed it and began to read it off.

“‘Look out — these two have it all! Fiery hot love connection coming through!’ Oh my God, this is so dumb.” You were increasingly animated.

Without much thought, the blonde scanned the arcade to see if anybody watched what just happened. When no eyes but yours met his gaze, he visibly dropped the tension in his chest. It was new to him to be interested in somebody who wasn’t a girl. Even newer to be close to them. You flipped the small card over and continued to read the description in relative silence before passing it to your ‘perfect match’.

Billy took the card in his hands and smiled. He smiled. Not his usual cocky and taunting grin, but a sweet one, a genuine one. When he looked up, you had already started to maneuver back to the gaudy counter. He watched as you pulled a small box from the cabinet and grabbed a set of keychains. The loop slid over your finger and you waved it at him, silently telling him to come get it.

“So, what’d ya think?” You mused as he braved the counter.

“I think it’s full of shit. Just like someone else in this joint.”

The response earned a laugh. With your back to the blonde, you hurried and pulled the set of keychains apart. Anybody who got the top three rankings on the tacky machine would be rewarded with matching keychains. They were cheap and just as gaudy as the machine itself, but something about them made you grin. Billy was a bit confused when you passed one to him and eyed you suspiciously. It wasn’t anything super elaborate, just a black background with the two words printed in a flame font on both sides, but you still thought it was worthy of being added to the set of work keys you inherited.

“What? Anybody who gets one of the top three gets matching keychains if they bring the card up.” Your tone was ever so sweet.

His blue eyes avoided contact with your own as you watched him debate on grabbing the small piece of plastic. This territory was entirely new, foreign even, to Hargrove — a strange but welcome one. Meanwhile, any mask he used to have was gone for a mere moment. He could simply exist.

He picked up the keychain and gave it a once over.

“Nothing says ‘true love’ like a cheap piece of plastic.” Billy couldn’t help but smile.

“You’re such a romantic, you know that?”

After getting what he came for, and a bit more, he decided to leave and make the short trip back to the parking lot. The bell chimed but you stopped him before he could leave, passing the score card back to him. His dark brows furrowed in confusion before you turned it around, rolling your eyes, to reveal your phone number on the back.

“I get off at 6. You pick me up and we can go out, do whatever you like, hot stuff.” You grinned at him with your tongue caught between your teeth.

He couldn’t say much except give a small grunt and nod of approval — which certainly was boosting your ego — and you let him go once again. Billy jumped inside the Camaro and grinned down at the number on the card while simultaneously trying to think of something fun to do in the evening. The stupid keychain caught his attention for a moment, before he decidedly settled it on the small ring with his car keys.

You were going to be the death of him — and you were going to enjoy every minute.

Reblogs instead of likes. Reblogs help other people find my works. Comments and tags very much appreciated. 💕 More male and enby reader fics on my blog.

#x male reader #stranger things x male reader #x gender neutral reader #stranger things x gender neutral reader #billy hargrove x male reader #billy hargrove x gender neutral reader #jaws stranger things

[wordsandupstead]

Stay

Jay HalsteadxReader

summary: Y/n and Jay lost touch after high school, but run into each other years later. Y/n insists she doesn’t need help, but Jay’s detective instincts won’t let him let her go. 

words: almost 8k

warnings: unhealthy relationship dynamics, domestic violence, physical abuse, emotional manipulation, toxic relationships. 

a/n: i’ve been wrestling with this piece for weeks now, and i could go through and edit it probably two more times, but i’m going insane, and i want to post it so badly, so this is what you get. hope you enjoy, feedback is always appreciated! 

also this should go without saying, but please heed the warnings, there are some graphic descriptions of dv so please please do not read if this is a trigger for you. thank you. 

~

“Halstead, over here!” The voice is just loud enough that it cuts through the constant hum of the crowd and catches your attention. You know that name. You’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t still think about him, didn’t still wonder how he’s doing, or daydream about running into him since moving back to Chicago three months ago. 

Without realizing what you’re doing, you swivel around on the barstool, somewhat accidentally making eye contact with him in the process. The recognition crosses his face, mirroring the expression on your own. It’s really him, not his brother or another guy named Halstead. It’s him. 

“Y/n?” He says in disbelief, immediately changing his pathway and walking toward you instead of stopping at the table his friends were all crowded around. He approaches you silently, studying you, almost like he cannot believe it really is you in front of him, and you don’t blame him. 

“Jay,” You breathe. 

“You’re back in Chicago? How are you?” A genuine smile crosses his face as he stops in front of you, and you remember a day when you would give anything to be the reason for his smile. 

“I’m–uh- good.” Your eyes drift to behind him at the rowdy group of guys looking in your direction, and you know they are about to yell at him, to call him over, probably tease him for talking to you. “It looks like your friends are waiting for you.” You point out the obvious. 

“They can wait.” He responds, unfazed. “How long have you been back?” 

“My boyfriend and I moved back here a few months ago.” You force a smile onto your face, intentionally mentioning your boyfriend, knowing that is likely to end the conversation much faster. There’s something else you could say to end the conversation even faster, but you hold back. A part of you doesn’t want Jay to know your life now, to know what it’s become. Maybe he still sees you as the carefree teenager you once were, and maybe you’d like to keep it that way. 

“Oh, nice!” If Jay is shocked or disappointed, he show it. 

“Detective, get over here!” One of his friends, who already seems to have had more than just a few drinks, slurs in your general direction. 

“Detective? You’re police?” You can’t stop the surprise from coming through in your own voice. 

“A lot has changed, for both of us, I guess.” He says with a shrug and half smile. He taps his fingers on the bar in front of you, “It was good seeing you.” He says with a look of finality in his eyes. You have a boyfriend. He has to go celebrate with his friends. 

You nod, “You too.” And watch out of the corner of your eye as he makes his way to his friends. They shout as he enters the circle, slapping him on the shoulder and handing him a drink. The word detective keeps being thrown around in their group, and you deduce that he probably just got promoted, and they’re out celebrating.

“Who was that?” Sam asks, approaching you, while nodding in Jay’s direction. You silently curse, realizing he saw at least the tail end of that conversation, something you were hoping to avoid completely. 

“Just a guy I knew in high school.” You respond nonchalantly. Sam takes his spot on the stool next to you, resting one hand on your waist to show the entire bar you’re with him. He flags down the bartender with the other hand, never missing a beat. 

“You just knew him.” The intonation in his voice ensures this doesn’t come across as a casual question. 

“Yeah, nothing happened between us.” Not for lack of trying. You can’t help but think to yourself. 

It was just too much. Between his mom getting sick and dying and your far from perfect life at home with your mom and stepdad, there was no room for anything that would last. He left for the army the week he graduated high school, and that fall you were off to California for college. Things maybe could have been different for the two of you if real life hadn’t gotten in the way. 

“You’re lying.” Sam whispers, his voice so low and deep, it almost sounds like a growl. 

“I’m not lying. I swear nothing happened.” You turn meeting his eyes, silently begging him to believe you, to drop the subject. 

His hand tightens around your waist, and you have to stop yourself from visibly flinching.

“Sam, stop.” You whisper, scooting even closer to him, hoping for some relief under his grip.  

“He keeps looking over here. Maybe I should go talk to him.” It comes out sounding more a threat than a mere suggestion. 

“No, let’s just get out of here. It’s getting late anyway.” You slide off the stool, leaving even less distance between you two. 

He’s about to protest, but you interrupt, reaching out and resting your hand on his thigh, “Please, just take me home.” And you know what you’re insinuating and asking for at that moment. Even though it’s not what you want right now, it’s better than sticking around here and having Sam get in a fight with Jay, especially on the night Jay is celebrating his promotion. 

~

Things weren’t always like this with Sam. He wasn’t always this jealous or possessive. You were eighteen when you met him. You had just moved to San Diego from Chicago for college, and he worked at a vintage record store near the beach. When you went in the first time, just a girl exploring her new home, he immediately struck up a conversation. He was friendly and undeniably cute, and you couldn’t believe someone like him would even show an interest in you. Of course, you went back the next week. 

At first, he was just a guy at a record store, a friendly face in a crowd, but he quickly became the place you went when you needed to get away from the all consuming campus life. He was twenty three at the time, and not in college, so his perspective was different from most of the people you found yourself surrounded by on campus. He made you feel different too, grown up, and you liked it. 

Those first few months with Sam were truly a dream. He made you forget about everything you left behind in Chicago. He made you feel special and loved and valued. He quickly became your home, and you found yourself staying with him more nights than not. The early freshman friendships you had started just started to form slowly slipped away because you were spending all of your free time off campus with Sam. But those friendships would have just been temporary anyway, and you were serious about your future with Sam. 

From the very beginning, he talked constantly about the life you would build together, of the family you would create. He knew your family history and the hurt you had experienced at the hands of your parents, and he promised you a better future. He reminded you that it was you and him against the world, and when you were with him, you really believed that love was enough, that all the other stuff didn’t really matter. And maybe at first, nothing else mattered, but three months into your relationship, everything changed. 

He was picking up more shifts at the record store, just waiting for the next thing, some inspiration, some purpose to move forward. And you were studying hard and taking as many shifts at the coffee shop as possible. The first three months were amazing, but after that, everything started changing. It happened slowly at first, and you know you both had a lot going on. Everything was changing, money was tight, you moved in with Sam, dropped out of college to pick up more shifts at the cafe. You needed to save for the baby on the way. 

~

You’re working the register this morning. Two cups of cold brew have done little to offset the exhaustion you’re feeling. Sam was out late last night. He’s been having a hard time with his new job, so he went out to blow off some steam. By the time he came back, he was drunk and angry, and that combination never bodes well for you. Pulling your tired, sore body from the bed this morning at four am for the opening shift was harder than it has been in a while. You considered calling out sick, but being home with Sam seemed like the worse option. 

About halfway through your shift, the bell dings signaling a customer is entering. You look up and immediately regret not calling out sick. Chicago is a big city, and you had managed not to run into Jay again since that night in the bar two months ago, but apparently your luck has run out. 

Recognition crosses his face as he approaches the register with a beautiful brunette by his side, his girlfriend? You wonder before chastising yourself for even wondering. A smile crosses his face immediately when he catches your eye and recognizes you behind the register. 

When he steps up to order, his smile immediately disappears. His head dips slightly, green eyes clouded with concern. “Y/n, what happened to your eye.” His voice is low and gravely, and his stare is so intense it feels like it could burn right through you. 

The truth sits on the tip of your tongue, but a lie forms instead. “I accidentally walked into the cabinet.” 

“And got a black eye?” It's a simple question but you know what he’s not saying. 

“Yeah.”

“Y/n…” His voice trails off, but his stare remains so intense that you have to break eye contact. 

You keep your eyes trained on the register, “What can I get for you?”  

You feel the brunette’s gaze drifting between you and Jay. When neither of you say anything, she finally says, “Can I get a medium cappuccino?” She pauses and you pull a cup, writing the order on it before placing it down on the counter. 

“Anything else?” You look up, making eye contact with only her. Her eyes trail to Jay, waiting for him to order. When he doesn’t, she finally says, “And he’ll have a large americano.” 

He pulls out his wallet now, pulling a twenty dollar bill out and sliding it over to you before you can tell him the total is $9.43. “Keep the change.” 

Before you can protest the tip that is more than his order total or even thank him for it, he’s walking away. He doesn’t look back, so you call out a thank you, and force a smile on your face as the next customer steps up to the register. 

They get their drinks and leave while you’re busy with another customer, and you’re both relieved and disappointed that he doesn’t try saying anything else to you. 

~

The first time Sam slapped you, you felt the shock of the violent contact all the way to your toes. He had never laid a hand on you before, or even indicated that he would. Before you even had enough time to process what had just occurred, he was already closing the distance between you, wrapping his arms around your now stiff body, and exclaiming apologies. 

It was because he had a long day at work and you were whining about money. He swore it would never happen again, and he loved you. He loved you and the baby you were growing in your belly, and all he wanted in the whole world was to be a dad, to create a family with you. So you wiped your tears and let him apologize to you. 

The next time he hit you, baby Lilly was only two weeks old. He was sleep deprived because having a new baby was hard work and he still had to go to his shifts at the record store while you got to stay home all day. He was tired of her crying, but you weren’t sure what was wrong, and you were so tired yourself from doing all the night time feedings and watching her all day with no help. His mom and sister would come over occasionally, but that always felt like more work for you because you had to host them and make sure things were up to his mom’s impossible standards, so you preferred spending your days alone, waiting for Sam to come back home. Both you and Lilly cried together most days. 

It was hard at first, but Sam was a good dad. He loved to hold her and love on her. He always called her daddy’s girl, and he’s the first one who ever made her smile. She relaxed in his arms. She loved him too. That’s what you told yourself after he threw the plate across the kitchen, narrowly missing your face, and when he drunkenly hit you square in the jaw one night. 

He’s her dad, and he loves her. You knew what it was like to grow up without a dad. To grow up wondering why he didn’t choose you, why you weren’t enough to make him stay, and you didn’t want to take away a good dad from your daughter. You couldn’t do that to her, so you stayed. 

~

You’re not exactly surprised to see Jay on your very next shift at the cafe. This time he’s alone. You’re not working the register today, but he catches your eye and nods at you in greeting. You nod back and return your attention to work. You’re busy making drinks, but it’s not lost on you that he takes his drink and finds a seat near the window instead of leaving the shop altogether. He doesn’t attempt to talk to you, and he’s not even staring at you, but you can feel his presence, and you know him coming here was neither an accident nor a coincidence. You have been working at this coffee shop for two months and you never saw him once. For him to come in twice in a week has to have been intentional. 

Taking your break a little early, you slip out from behind the counter and approach him. “So is she your girlfriend?” It’s the only thing you can think to say, and his attention snaps over to you. He hadn’t noticed you approaching him.  

When he meets your eyes, he doesn’t even entertain your question. Instead, he calmly asks, “Is someone hurting you? Is it your boyfriend?” 

His direct questions catch you off guard, but you recover quickly. “I told you, I walked into a cabinet. You know how clumsy I am.” You try playing it off, already regretting not just ignoring him through the rest of your shift. 

“I don’t, actually.” He responds, not letting you off the hook so easily. 

“Jay, just drop it. What are you doing here, anyway?”

“Drinking coffee.” He answers, despite both of you knowing that’s not all he’s here for. You aren’t the only one who can lie. A quiet sigh leaves your lips, and you’re about to end this conversation and go back to work when Jay speaks again, “You don’t have to stay with him, you know.” His voice is softer now, not sharp or accusatory or demanding. 

That sentence, or his delivery, or just his presence in the coffee shop suddenly angers you. Jay’s jumping to conclusions, telling you what you can do, acting like he knows your life when he doesn’t. He doesn’t even know you at all, not anymore. He doesn’t know Sam or your relationship, and he has no idea you have a daughter. He doesn’t know the sacrifices you’ve made or how you are just trying your best. The only thing you can say is, “It’s not what you think.”

“I’m a detective, y/n.” He pauses, and you watch him silently as his jaw clenches and he visibly intentionally releases the tension before saying quietly, “I know you didn’t walk into a cabinet.”

It takes everything in you, not to raise your voice at him. “Forget it, Jay. I’m not going to argue with you. If you don’t want to believe me, fine. We don’t know each other anymore, and I’d really like it if you would just leave me alone.” 

You turn and storm through the cafe and into the break room in the back. You take the remaining five minutes of your break to calm yourself, and when you walk back to the front, the table Jay was sitting at is empty. 

~

Before Lilly was born it became clear you wouldn’t be able to manage attending college classes, working, and taking care of Lilly. College was obviously the first thing to go. You dropped out and moved in with Sam. Money was tight, especially after having to pay for everything a newborn baby needs. His hours at the record store kept getting cut, and he was spending more and more time at home. You tried to pick up more shifts at the coffee shop to make up for it, but Lilly was a fussy baby and it was hard for Sam to watch her alone too much. The truth is you worried about her being home alone with him for long periods of time, so you stuck to shorter shifts, spreading them out over the week.

There were more good days than bad days the first couple of years. Sam adored Lilly. You saw the way he softened when she was around, the way he gently held her in his arms. The joy in his face when he saw her take her first steps toward him and when she finally said Dada are two moments you will never forget. When things were good, they were really good. You had a perfect little family, just like the two of you had talked about. He had a way of bringing laughter and light into the room, and even Lilly would light up when she saw her dad walk through the door.  

Finding balance between work, taking care of Lilly, and trying to stretch the money as far as possible was difficult for you. Your support system in San Diego was nearly non-existent because you had barely begun forming friendships when you dropped out of college to move in with Sam. Since then, you hung out with some of his friends, but you never truly fit in. You were friendly with co-workers at your coffee shop, but you never had time to hang out or do anything outside of work because you always had to get home to Lilly. It became you and Lilly, the two of you, always. 

Things at home with Sam always felt like they were on the verge of falling apart. It was a constant guessing game about how he would be feeling when he walked in the door, and you never knew what to expect. There was no way for you to know when his behavior was so unpredictable. One day he would walk in and tell you that you were the love of his life. He’d shower you with kisses and tell you to have a bath while he cleaned up the dinner dishes and put Lilly to bed, and then a few days later he’d walk in angry that dinner wasn’t already on the table and he’d tell you how worthless you are how he can’t stand to be in the same room as you. The back and forth was exhausting, it left you constantly on edge. You worried about Lilly seeing him angry as she was getting older, so you did everything you could to make things okay, to smooth out the anger, to placate him. 

You thought about leaving. You thought about taking Lilly and just walking out the door, but you didn’t have any savings because all of your cafe money was going to just paying rent, buying necessities, and keeping food on the table. Every time you started to feel like you could get ahead, even just a little bit, something would happen to push you right back to having no savings at all. Truthfully, you didn’t have anywhere to go, and you didn’t really think you could leave Sam because you weren’t strong enough and you were afraid of what he would do if you left. You didn’t have any option but to stay.  

~

When Jay walks into the coffee shop again the next week, you have half a mind to ignore him completely, but unluckily, you’re at the register and can’t exactly ignore a paying customer who hasn’t really done anything wrong. Turning around, you almost ask Kate to switch with you really quickly, but she’s busy making a drink and Jay is already standing at the register in front of you. 

When you swivel back around to face him, he says, “I’m just here for a coffee.” He holds his hands up in mock surrender. You nod, staying silent and waiting for him to order. “Can I get an americano, large please.” You type his order into the register, and grab a cup to write on it.

He pulls his wallet out of his back pocket, sliding out a credit card. He inserts the card in at your prompting and looks up briefly while waiting for it to authorize. “I won’t mention it again. Like you asked.” He says, referencing the conversation you had the last time you spoke with him. “But if you need anything, anything at all, ever, this is my number.” He slides a business card across the table, Detective Jay Halstead written is written in large print across the front with all of his contact information printed in smaller font below. “Or walk into the 21st district and ask for me.” He holds eye contact with you for a few seconds longer than necessary before pulling his credit card from the machine. He pushes the business card a little closer to you on the counter and then whispers, “I mean it. If you want help, I will help you. You don’t have to stay in a bad situation. I will keep you safe.”

He holds eye contact with you for another second, and when you don’t say anything at all, he turns away, walking to the other end of the shop to wait for his drink. You take the card from the counter and slip into your pocket. You carry it around for the rest of your shift, finding some sort of comfort just knowing it is there. At the end of your shift, you drop it into the trash, not willing to risk dealing with Sam if he finds a detectives business card, and not wanting to think about the chaos that would ensue if he found out that the detective is the guy from the bar that he already accused you of being more than friends with. 

~

Lilly was three when Sam suggested moving out of San Diego. He had a friend who had a company in Chicago, and he was offered a job. You couldn’t believe the sheer coincidence of a job opportunity in Chicago out of everywhere in the US. You didn’t have many ties to Chicago either, since your mom and stepdad had moved to Florida after you left for San Diego and you barely had any contact with her anymore. 

Sam was convinced this move would be good for you both, and the more he talked about the potential and possibilities, the more you started to believe him. He swore you just needed a new start. Things had been getting progressively worse and worse at home for the past three years, and even he recognized something needed to change. The idea sounded great in theory, you would move and essentially start over. Lilly would start preschool there and Sam would work full time. With Lilly in school, you could get another job and work longer hours. You’d finally be able to stop living paycheck to paycheck, maybe you would even be able to buy your own house. 

The hope and potential for a new start carried you through the first few months in Chicago. Lilly started preschool and loved it. She would come home every day excited to show you a new drawing or letters she learned to write. You easily got a job as a barista at a coffee shop, already having years of experience, and with Lilly in school, you were able to take more shifts and work longer hours. 

You start to believe that the move to Chicago is what you needed to get your relationship back on track. Sam starts talking about saving for a house and having a second baby. At first, you tell him you don’t think another kid would be good because you just started being able to work days now that Lilly is in school. He reminds you that he has a good job now, and he wants to support you all. He wants to be the dad and boyfriend he always wanted to be. He starts talking more and more about marriage and a second baby. You finally agree with him to start trying for another baby because his requests are getting more and more frequent and telling him no only makes him angry. 

~

Jay doesn’t come into the coffee shop for another month, and you hate to admit that every time the bell jingles above the door on a slow day at the cafe, you look up, wondering if you’ll see him. You had started to lose hope that you’d ever run into him again, until he walks in one day. True to his word, he doesn’t mention anything. He greets you with a friendly hello, and orders his americano. He asks how you are as he waits for his card to authorize, but you only say you’re good, letting silence hang between you two, and he accepts the answer, not prodding any further. He thanks you before heading to the other side of the room waiting for his coffee. After getting his order, he catches your eye briefly and waves before leaving, and you replay those few moments over and over in your mind. There is something about his calming presence. You know you shouldn’t keep thinking about him, but you can’t help yourself. 

~

Sam wasn’t usually home in the middle of the day, but that day, he was. When you walked in after your morning shift, he was seated on the couch, and a warning sign already went off in your mind. You called out a hello, but he didn’t respond. When you walked over to him, you noticed the look on his face, and you paused briefly. You swallowed hard and continued trying to rack your brain to figure out what could have gone wrong.  

“Everything okay?” You settled on those words, hoping they were neutral enough to not set anything off. 

“No.” Came his gruff response. You didn’t move any closer, but you also didn’t back up. Your feet remained planted firmly on the ground halfway between the kitchen and the living room. 

“What’s wrong?”

“My girlfriend has been lying to me.” His eerie calmness caused your heartbeat to speed up. 

You wanted to ask what he was talking about, but before you could, he held up your birth control. Telling the truth would have been the best option, but lying felt like the only option at the time. “That’s old.” You immediately tried an act of self-preservation. 

In moments, he was up from the couch, shoving you backwards until your back hit the wall, followed by your head. His hand moved up to your throat and squeezed so you couldn’t say anything even if you wanted to.

“You’re a liar, a fucking liar. I found this two weeks ago, and I thought that it was just old, the one you were taking when we agreed you would stop. Tell me, y/n, why is it missing so many more pills now that it was then?” He noticed you were struggling to breathe, and he finally released you. 

You doubled over, gasping for breath, “I’m sorry.” Were the only words that fell from your lips. Over and over again. 

~

“Do you know him?” Your new co-worker, Keisha, asks you one day after Jay gets his coffee and walks out the door. 

“Hmm?” You question, snapping out of your trance. The last time you had seen Jay was about two months before, and you were starting to see a pattern in the way he popped up. He never says much more than hello, how are you? But he comes in every so often without fail, but it’s by no means frequent. You’ll see him once every couple of months or so, and then you wont see him again for a while. He doesn’t appear to expect anything, but you’ve started throwing a blueberry scone in for free with his basic americano order every time time he comes in. He doesn’t even put much effort into making conversation. He just comes in, buys his coffee, and leaves.

He has kept his promise to not bring up his concerns again, but sometimes you see it in his eyes, the way they take you in. Stopping on your wrist one day when it was bruised from Sam’s grip, and flicking back to your scarf the time he walked into the coffee shop after the incident with Sam and the birth control. Most people would see a girl in a scarf, especially in Chicago, and not think anything of it, but you know Jay is not most people, and you know he noticed it wasn’t just a fashion statement. 

“Do you know him? He’s cute, and really polite.” She repeats her question, bringing you back to the present. 

“What do you mean?” You ask, knowing that you were the one at the register when Jay walked in. It just seemed like an odd observation for her to make about someone she didn’t even interact with. 

She seems unfazed by your lack of answer, “He’s sweet. He’s been coming in a lot this this week. I think he’s a new regular. His names Jay.” She rattles off all of this information, not even realizing or caring that you never answered her question of if you knew him. 

“Oh cool,” You answer before you’re interrupted by a customer walking in, and Keisha walks off to continue making drinks. 

About a week and a half later, you find yourself on shift with Keisha again, and you ask, “Remember that guy, Jay?”

She pauses mid pour, plopping the milk gallon down and staring at you before saying. “I haven’t seen him since that time we saw him together.” Disappointment clouds her face. “I wonder what happened to him.”

You got the answer that you needed and you had kind of assumed in your heart. You almost want to tell her not to worry, she’ll see him again in a month or two, and if you’re not on shift, she might even see him a few times, but you keep that thought to yourself. “Yeah, I wonder.” 

~

Over the course of your nearly five year relationship with Sam, you had become an expert at reading his moods, remaining a step ahead, smoothing out emotions and diffusing situations before they could escalate. Sam’s job became more and more stressful, and you felt the tension at home escalating. Despite doing everything you know to do — cooking his favorite food, giving him what he wants, trying not to disagree with him — things have begun to feel more and more out of control. Sam keeps coming home in a bad mood, and it seems like nothing you do is good enough. 

Things haven’t been great, but they have been bearable, until tonight. You watched as your biggest fear came true. You watched him yell at Lilly when she interrupted him to show him a drawing she had made, and you cut in to interrupt, which turned his anger onto you. That was fine, that was what you were used to, and you thought everything would be okay again. Lilly had gone to her room at your request, and Sam had eventually stormed off to your bedroom. You checked on Lilly and she was drawing at the little table in the corner of her room, so you went to the bathroom to freshen up. 

The reason you stayed was always for Lilly. Despite how much Sam hurt you, he had always been a caring father who would never hurt his daughter. When you heard yelling from beyond the bathroom walls, you immediately ran toward the sound. Sam was standing in Lilly’s room. Her voice was the only one you could hear, “Daddy, I’m scared. I want Mommy.”  

Before you could get to her, he punched the wall behind her and shouted, “Shut up!” 

You didn’t think, you just picked her up and ran to the bathroom, locking both of you in there. She was crying and you were trying to soothe her while trying to calm your own racing heart and overwhelming thoughts about what to do next. 

When it finally became silent on the other side of the door, you took your daughter into your arms and grabbed your car keys and the bare minimum essentials you managed to quietly gather before sneaking out of the house. 

~

You threw away the business card he had given you over a year ago, but you never forgot his words, District 21, go there and ask for him. Those instructions were etched into your memory. Even back then a part of you knew that you’d need to remember that, a part of you knew that one day, when it was time, you would. 

With Lilly’s hand in yours, you trudge up the steps. It’s late, nearing midnight by now, and an older woman with a grumpy look on her face is shooing two officers away from her desk. You nearly lose your nerve and walk right back out, but you remember what happened just a few hours ago and you know you cannot go back, not now. You take a deep breath and step up to the desk. 

“How can I help you?” She asks, glancing at you briefly before looking away, and checking something on the computer, barely paying any attention to you at all. 

“Hi, I’m looking for Jay Halstead.” You say, unable to mask the shakiness of your voice. 

As soon as the words leave your mouth, her eyes dart toward you, looking you over. Your hair is hanging loosely around your face, covering the most recent bruising. You’ve done your best to cover everything else too, but you know you still look like a mess.

“Y/n?” She asks cautiously, and you’re taken by surprise. 

“How do you know?” You question squeezing Lilly’s hand a little tighter in yours, fear rising within you.

“Jay gave me a heads up. Said you might come in here looking for him one day.” 

All the courage it took to walk into this police station dissipates, and you immediately take a step back. “Never mind, a-actually. I have to go.”

“No, not so fast.” She stands from her chair and shuffles out from behind the desk. The forcefulness of her words and her purposeful movements keep you from running out the doors you entered through. She stops short when she comes around the desk, almost likes she’s noticing Lilly for the first time. She leans down, so she’s closer to eye level with her, “I’m Trudy,” She says gently. “What’s your name?”

Your four year old only grips your hand tighter, and you speak up for her, “This is Lilly.”

“Nice to meet you Lilly,” Trudy says without missing a beat. “Come follow me.”

She leads you up a set of stairs toward a gate. She types in a code, then scans her palm until the gate clicks. She pulls open the large metal gate, motioning for you to walk in first. Still holding Lilly’s hand as she looks up at you, you gently say, “Come on,” and start climbing more stairs, unsure of what you’ll find at the top. 

“No one can come in without authorization. And I’m sitting right downstairs watching anyway.” Trudy’s voice reassures you from behind. 

At the top of the steps, you’re met with a large room with desks scattered about in a somewhat organized fashion, but you don’t see anyone, most of all, you don’t see Jay, although you don’t know why you even expected him to be here. It’s midnight. Your heart is still beating wildly in your chest, and you’re wondering if you made the right decision coming here.

“They’re out on an investigation, but it’s probably best if you wait here.” She leads you through the room toward another room at the back. It looks like a standard break room. There’s a table, a couch, and a kitchen. “Make yourself comfortable, there’s water in the fridge, coffee right over there,” She motions to the half full coffee pot. “Mugs are in the cabinet.” She pauses briefly, her eyes raking over you again. Her voice softens, “Are you alright? Are you hurt?” You shake your head, not trusting your voice. 

“Does anyone know you’re here?” She asks, and you wonder what Jay told her. Instead of asking, you just shake your head again. “Okay,” She nods. “I’ll be right back.” She says before disappearing down a hall. You help Lilly get comfortable on the couch. “Mommy?” She asks. 

“Yes?”

“I’m scared.”

“I know, I know.” You whisper in response, smoothing down her hair. 

You pull her closer to you, and she curls into your side. You drape your jacket over her as she yawns. It’s past her bedtime. “Sleep, it’s okay.” You tell her and her eyes fall closed. 

A few moments later, Trudy returns, holding a few bags of chips and two cup noodles. She quietly places them on the table, “I wasn’t sure if you were hungry. If you need anything, just pick any of those desk phones and dial 1 and you’ll get me. Jay should be back soon.”

“Thank you,” You feel so grateful toward this woman who brought you up here and brought you food without prying or asking any questions besides if you were okay. 

“You don’t have to thank me.” She says before walking away without looking back. 

Lilly had fallen asleep shortly after Trudy left to go back downstairs so you’ve been alone with your thoughts since. There is a part of your mind still wondering if you should just leave. You almost decide to when you hear the loud gate open. Voices float up the staircase before you see anyone, and you pull your thin cardigan closer to your body. 

Two men appear at the top of the stairs, and you don’t recognize either of them. You’re not sure how you’re going to explain yourself to them. You hadn’t really thought of what would happen if someone other than Jay appeared. Neither of them seem to notice you right away, which is understandable since you’re tucked away in the break room. They both stop at different desks, until one of them notices and stops mid-sentence. 

“Hello?” He calls out cautiously, causing the other man to turn around too. He starts approaching slowly. “Who let you up here?” He’s almost standing in the doorway, and you can’t find the voice to answer when you hear the gate swing open again and footsteps stomping loudly up the stairs. “Y/n?” Jay calls, causing both men to spin to face him as he appears at the top of the steps. He jogs across the expanse of the larger room to stop in the doorway. “It’s okay.” Jay says, and you’re not sure if he’s saying it to the two other police officers or to you or to himself. He enters through the open door, turning and nodding at them before closing it behind him, and turning to face you. His eyes stopping on Lilly, who is just waking up because of all the commotion. He stares at her briefly before he looks back at you.  

“Platt said you were up here, are you okay?” He’s still taking in the scene in front of him, and you don’t blame him. 

You nod, “I’m sorry. I didn’t know where else to go.” 

“Its okay. I’m glad you came here, both of you.” He says, looking from you to Lilly and back at you.

“This is Lilly, my daughter.” You introduce her as though it isn’t already obvious that she’s your child. 

He crouches down a safe distance away, “Hi Lilly, I’m Jay.” He says softly with a small wave.

She shyly waves at him before scooting closer to you. He looks at her fondly, before shifting his eyes back to you again. 

“We can’t stay at home.” You say quietly, breaking eye contact. In that moment, with those five words, you know Jay is hearing all the things you refuse to say out loud. 

His voice softens. “I know.”

“I don’t know what to do.”

Silence passes between the two of you for a second before he says, “Take a deep breath.” His voice is calming, and you listen, inhaling oxygen into your lungs. When you breathe out a few seconds later, Jay whispers, “One more.” And you listen, breathing in deeply again. You feel calmer, just with Jay’s steady presence beside you. Suddenly, not everything feels as big and terrifying. You can feel Lilly relaxing in your arms, knowing she is about to fall back to sleep. You don’t want to talk about all of this in front of her, so you carefully scoot further away, balling up your jacket to place under her head as a pillow to replace your leg. By the time you stand, Jay has shrugged out of his jacket, and he’s holding it out to you, gesturing toward Lilly. You take his jacket and lay it over her body as a blanket to replace yours. 

“I’m going to be right out there, okay? Go back to sleep.” You whisper before leaning down to kiss her head. She barely responds, but you know she’s just tired. When you look back toward Jay, he’s already watching you. He motions for you to follow him back into the larger room, and he pulls out a desk chair for you. Taking a seat, you watch as he glances over at the two guys. No words are exchanged, but they politely excuse themselves. Jay grabs another chair and pulls it closer to you before sitting. 

He remains silent beside you until you finally speak up, “Now you know why I can’t leave.”

He pauses, his expression half pained and half thoughtful. You’re begging him to understand. This is the missing piece of information. This is the reason you’re tied to a man who has brought you more hurt than joy for so many years. This is the reason you didn’t tell Jay the truth last year when he walked into the coffee shop and saw straight through your lies. 

He shakes his head slightly, his green eyes meeting yours, “No, now I know why you have to.” He says this softly, kindly, and not in a pushy way. 

You shake your head. He still doesn’t understand. “He’s a good dad, Jay. He’s a good dad and he cares about her. If I leave, I’m scared he will take her from me.” 

“It doesn’t have to be that way.” 

“I don’t know if I can take that risk.”

“But you’re here. You came here tonight with your daughter.” He states this simple fact. “You took the first step.”

The tears start to fall silently, and you brush them away. “He’s usually so good with her. But she’s getting older, and—I don’t know. I just— she talks back sometimes. She’s like how I used to be. And I’m scared.” You messily brush your tears away. “I can take it. I’m an adult, but she—I don’t want him to hurt her.” 

“He won’t.” Jay’s voice is low and deep. You finally look up, meeting his eyes, and you can see the anger in them. Suddenly you’re scared all over again. You don’t know if this was the right decision. What if you’re running from one dangerous man toward another one. 

“This was a mistake.” You say, standing abruptly. Jay stands just as quickly. “I—we should go.” You start turning to the break room. 

“Y/n,” Jay’s voice stops you in your tracks. You tell yourself you shouldn’t, but you turn around anyway. “Think about Lilly.” When you hesitate and don’t move or respond right away, he continues. “You can stay at my apartment. I’ll take you there now. You can have the place to yourself, for as long as you need.”

You must look shocked or confused because he adds, “I can crash at my brother’s place.” He might not know the whole story or the history, but he’s already trying to make plans, trying to make things okay. He’s keeping the promise he made to you in the coffee shop all those months ago. 

Just a subtle nod is all it takes, and you’re scooping up Lilly in your arms and Jay is grabbing the one backpack you brought with you. The drive is mostly silent, and Jay leads you into his apartment, which is surprisingly clean. He gets you both situated, making sure you have everything you could possibly need. 

“Do you need anything else?” He asks, and you shake your head. He had already gotten you both towels, toothbrushes, and any possible toiletries you might need. He showed you the kitchen, letting you know you could eat anything you wanted. He put new sheets on the bed, pulled out blankets from the closet, and adjusted the thermostat so it would be warm enough. He made sure you had his phone number and that you knew you could call anytime. 

Lilly is already fast asleep in the middle of his bed, and he’s starting to head toward the front door.

“Do you want to stay?” You whisper, stopping him in his tracks and surprising even yourself with those words. 

His eyebrows knit together, and he tilts his head, like that option never even occurred to him. Finally he shakes his head, “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable. I can stay at my brothers. It’s really no problem.”

When he says those words and you know he is really about to leave, you realize you’re more afraid of him leaving you and Lilly here alone than you are of him staying. “I’ll feel safer if you stay.” You whisper. 

He absorbs your words, nodding before quietly saying, “Then I’ll stay.”

#Jay Halstead #Jay Halstead x reader #Jay Halstead fic #Jay halstead imagine #Jay Halstead fanfiction #Chicago Pd #Jay x reader #Jay Halstead x y/n

[dovewifes]

Okay but actually what is your favourite Curufincest ship?

my most favorite is tyelcurvo, 100% 🙌💖!

there’s something so tragic, yet so sweet about how they stay by each other’s sides through their fall from grace and until the end. i think that they’re genuinely devoted to the other and deeply, sickeningly possessive and in love with each other, which is why they work as well as they do, like they’re awful and they deserve each other, and they’re so special to me <333

i also think that celegorm brings a grounding balance to curufin’s life especially after fëanor dies, and i adore working out how their dynamic and relationship with each other develops after that point—they feel that they can only trust each other, sort of a ‘you and me against the world’ mentality, which is where that devotion, cohesion, and possessiveness comes from. also, they cannibalized each other at one point.

buttttt i’m also especially fond of curufin/fëanor for how juicy and toxic it can be… in short, mirrors: to me, they’re all about reflections, both the brilliant and the ugly :) to elaborate: the love for a parent twisted into the love of oneself until he’s not sure where he ends and his father begins… how much of curufin belongs to himself, and who is he really? hero worship, parental devotion, patricidal rage, and self-love but taken to the extreme.

+ curufin/maglor has been growing on me lately because i feel like they’re more similar to each other than they’d like to let on, and they deserve to hatefuck about it. i think that they’re the most ambitious out of the seven, which caused a lot of contention in their childhood and escalated during maglor’s regency era which is where my maglorcurvo hatefucking wip begins that i think forces curufin to once again confront his own feelings about his father, which he takes out on maglor instead… but what’s delicious to me about them is that curufin assumes he has the upper hand and doesn’t even consider that maglor is manipulating him to deal with his own problems maedhros being gone and also fëanor issues… yeah.

and of course, there’s curufin/finrod… though they’re basically canon to me, i barely think about them and have only ever enjoyed a few people’s fics for them? but those fics were absolutely phenomenal, which is why i must include them on this list. not much more to say here.

lastly, have been thinking curufin/aredhel, but they’re pretty new. idk i just think the goth nerd and goth prep (???) thing could be good for them. who knows.

anyway, i didn’t mean for this to be any more than a bulleted list, but i couldn’t help myself. hopefully it made sense, thanks for the ask :D !!

#ask #curufincest ships #going to make that an actual tag on this blog like i am Not tagging all of them 💀 #didn’t proofread this so it is what it is. cheers 💃🏻🪩✨

[zahri-melitor]

Oh my god, Gotham Knights #26. I’m screaming, crying, throwing up.

Just this. This is so damn crunchy. It’s a reminder that the core of the post-Crisis Batfamily revolves around the dynamics and dance of tensions between Dick, Babs and Tim, and how each of them relate to Bruce.

Dick’s on the upswing of his relationship with Bruce, after the adoption and the two of them hammering a bunch of issues out.

Tim’s at a low point where he’s been frozen out and deliberately hurt. Bruce revealed his identity to Steph! Plus Alfred, who’s been staying with him to punish Bruce, had just announced he’s going back to the manor, leaving Tim even more alone.

Babs is in one of her “I’m here for the rest of you; Bruce is aggravating me by being high handed again” phases (admittedly that’s…her default position unlike the other two).

And wow does the way the three of them negotiate the debate over “did Bruce kill someone” just show off both their best and worst character traits (and also they’re all acting way more adult than Bruce, which isn’t a surprise, but what can you do).

Tim and Dick talk! Tim worries Dick is a jumper! They find out they have different opinions on Did Bruce Do It!

(I just want to EAT UP the implication that Tim is worried that Dick might be about to attempt suicide over the fact Bruce killed someone, especially just after the whole ‘killing Joker’ situation)

Dick is Extremely Offended Tim might think Bruce Did It. So what does he do? Go off to talk it through with Babs.

Babs gives Dick the reality check that Bruce has been in one of his push-everyone-away loner modes again and that Dick off in Blüdhaven isn’t having to face it personally, but Batman isn’t even patrolling with Robin right now. Also that Tim’s experiences with Bruce are necessarily different to Dick’s.

When suddenly… Tim arrives to ALSO thrash this conversation out with Babs (They are such mirrors of each other I swear).

Dick takes the opportunity to try and touch base with Tim and find common ground, leading to one of the best/most devastating pages of the Dick & Tim relationship at this point.

Dick is trying to make his baby brother feel safe. Dick would do anything for Tim. Tim however is all too aware of how hollow this promise is, as well meaning as the sentiment is, because they’ve lost people before. (And as I noted, Dick’s actually still in a GOOD cycle with Bruce while Tim really isn’t)

Which leads to THIS angst.

Tim believes in Dick. He can get by just trusting in the detective work he’s been taught and knowing that Dick holds to the Code (and we are LITERALLY only 3 months real time on since Last Laugh, Tim you have phenomenal levels of belief in Dick). Dick however, has that same level of trust in BRUCE, and so can’t cope with Tim not also feeling that way.

(And then Dick goes off to cry to Alfred because he also needed reassurance)

God I love all three of them so much it’s hard to describe. They’re so functional together even when they’re fighting as they all, at their core, trust each other implicitly.

(Alfred and Leslie have some very meaty conversations together and apart also in this, when Gotham Knights was on its game it was one of the best Bat books out there)

Finally: Babs is not having a great time here either, as she’s having to coordinate and run the investigation on Vesper Fairchild’s murder without any assistance from the primary suspect.

Working out some anger issues there, Babs? (Robin #99)

#dc #z canon read throughs #tim drake #barbara gordon #dick grayson #bruce wayne: murderer/fugitive #gotham knights

[heynowisavedyouright]

you are The main swagdoons person to me so i want to just brainrot in your asks sorry. im going to put some things out here that i haven’t seen explicitly mentioned on swagdoons tumblr yet (i don’t have my own tumblr blog). have you noticed that in ash’s video about their block wars 1 victory, ash gives each teammate roughly equal attention in his storytelling, and structures his story around his lag’s impact on his tournament experience, but in RED’s video, red edits his own footage to disproportionately feature ash, making sure to include all of ash’s victories, his funny lines, his struggles, clips of his POV, etc, and ALSO partly structures his story around ash’s lag?? and red always tries to position himself next to ash in their group photos and whatnot. he repeatedly pursues ash to ask his opinion on whether red should wear his jacket sleeveless or no, and, upon noticing ash’s one-sleeve-cut-off look, red wordlessly changes his own skin to match with him. SPECIFICALLY not by cutting off the same sleeve, but to mirror ash, so they can hold hands in photos and match. yknow. like an exclusive couple . red does All This while way outplacing ash in points (red 6th place, ash 22nd), being the team’s designated top frag/leader, and caring a lot about his own personal performance – from what he says aloud, red’s full VOD of the event gives the impression that he’s mainly focused on his own individual placement, but his edited final video gives the impression that he is fixated on ash. who, btw, has only participated in block wars if he’s teamed with red. and fun fact, did you know that on their next team together, red said to their team that ash is a top 20 player (factually inaccurate as of yet – ash placed 31 & 22). of course, red could have said that so that ash’s substitute would be someone with a high-ish average individual placement, instead of because of [GAY REASONS] (red is disproportionately attentive to ash’s contributions, red has a constant habit of talking up ash), but isn’t that forced indistinguishability between practical/greedy motivations and gay motivations the main appeal of swagdoons? yea. aaaand, generally in videos in which swagdoons are part of a larger group, they sort of gravitate towards each other and stick together. im a little obsessed with the small moment from boosfer’s “deepest fears” event of ash tossing his illegally acquired extra ballots into the vote collector in front of only red, as if they’re sharing a secret, and both boosfer and red including this into their edited videos. and only red has ash & boosfer’s “this is not a therapy session!!!” funny moment in his video. cuz he loves ash’s personality and random stories. also there’s the blink-or-you’ll-miss-it moment within all the chaos of boosfer’s video, in the spleef round, in which ash says “dev just tried murdering me” and red takes immediate note of it like “it’s dev, it’s dev.” (or something), and dev tries to justify himself but they end up spleefing each other into lava and red barely survives, eliminating dev who turned out to be the impostor all along!!! swagdoons power couple. AND in red’s video, he gives this lots of special focus (he zooms in on dev almost killing ash, then immediately kicks in boss music as red single-mindedly tries to eliminate dev for the rest of the round). umm. yea tl;dr i am obsessed with how red is stronger than ash in much of minecraft canon and yet red is utterly loyal and fixated on ash while ash primarily looks out for himself. best dynamic

you are amazing anon i am putting you out there

thi$ i$ you now ^^^^ bigbrain

( and winkwonk thi$ i$ why i love a$h$wag god arc$ every time to put another $pin on it )

#feltixanswers #anon handle #swagdoons

[cathedralcomic]

out of the main characters, who has the best/worst relationship with their parents/parent figures?

Well here i’ll go thru all of them LOL

rook & bentley: on the surface, good! these two love each other a lot and bentley has served as a positive role model for rook his whole short life. however, especially as rook gets older, bentley is finding that she can’t control him as well as she used to. she tells herself she does everything in his best interest and to keep him safe. she doesn’t want him to end up like, um, someone she used to know very well who is now a “failure” in her eyes. let’s just say that. when rook meets and starts actively trying to be around moth and splinter, bentley is extremely resistant to it. 8/10

rook & scarlet: scarlet nursed rook and they have a sweet relationship, albeit not as close as rook’s relationship with bentley. scarlet really sees herself as rook’s true mother. she’s projected on them a lot since two of her original litter went missing, and that’s put her at odds with whiskey and rye. scarlet is kind of obsessed with rook. she thinks they’re a beautiful, perfect child sent from rhune. you can imagine her other children are rubbed the wrong way by this… lmao. 7/10

splinter & coal: splinter’s dad. this relationship sucks. coal is inherently a standoffish and distant guy and splinter always sensed it even before thorn’s death. she hates that she’s so much like him and apparently not enough like her radiant dead mom. coal is extremely critical of her, always pointing out even the small things she does wrong. he’s getting to the point of disowning her entirely even though he’s a big reason why she is the way she is. 2/10

splinter & wild: now this is what i call a banger dynamic. splinter+wild and rook+bentley mirror each other in some ways. but wild is… wild. you know. a freak. they encourage splinter’s idiosyncrasies and weirdness while making she she doesn’t completely succumb to chaos. wild adores their little angry niece. splinter has always loved them, too, basically idolizing them from birth. solid 9.5/10

moth & talia: you all know how bad this sucks. talia nursed moth and served as his foster mother. then moth accidentally killed talia’s little girl and now she hates his guts. but BEFORE all that, talia tolerated him. he would always try to make her laugh by doing stupid goofy shit and it usually worked. at best she was amused by him but there was always an underlying concern about his origin. she felt it was confirmed by what happened to her daughter. 1/10

moth & frond: this is a weird one! frond’s the one who found baby moth and rescued him, same day thorn went missing (and the next day showed up dead). after moth killed rain talia made him sleep in a different pew, but thankfully frond let him sleep with him instead. moth can find some comfort in frond but not a lot. frond is very high-strung and very terrified of moth leaving. cats come and go in the clowders. moth isn’t in love with his living situation so leaving isn’t a stretch, but he feels tethered to the bethels because of frond. 6/10

honorable mention goes to wild and moth, not a parental thing but more of a “my best friend’s relative who is also my therapist and drug dealer” thing - 10/10

#ask

[zalrb]

Thoughts on Good Omens season 2 over all? I had a great time with it. I see some people saying the plot was kinda thin and the side characters boring, and I sort of agree, but I showed up to watch Aziraphale and Crowley so I didn’t really mind that the rest of it was nothing special. I thought they did a great job showing the strange limbo they’ve been in, where they’re closer than ever in some ways but still haven’t come to a true understanding. And they have such great old married couple energy the whole way through!

I had issues with the Lindsey aspect of the whole Nina/Maggie plot line because I understood Nina and Maggie being mirrors for Crowley and Aziraphale and Lindsey being a stand in for Heaven/Hell dictating how they should act but I was also like, I mean Nina is in an emotionally abusive relationship and to just kind of throw that in and not really do much with it and only use it as a parallel to Aziraphale and Crowley's situation is unfulfilling for me, otherwise I didn't really mind Maggie and Nina, I just kind of felt like there should be more filled in with them if they were going to be a fixture in the season.

In terms of Aziraphale and Crowley, I did think they did a good job in showing how close they've gotten with the details like Crowley knowing Aziraphale's tones of voice

or him being like I understood what you said in French because you've spoken about it for 250 years

or how Aziraphale will just tell him to order him a sherry and what I seem to naturally do with relationship dynamics like this one is focus on the person in the relationship whose feelings are evident and there and clear but not as plainly conveyed as the other. So, for instance, Crowley is the one who Nina and Maggie speak to

Crowley is the one who kisses Aziraphale

Shax speaks of Crowley's devotion to Aziraphale

I think the audience is a bit more aligned with Crowley coming to terms with how he feels than with Aziraphale because of direct lines like this

so I naturally focus on Aziraphale and his feelings for Crowley and how they're portrayed because I don't find it to be as plain as the aforementioned and therefore a little more interesting to observe, like the fact that Aziraphale has diary entries of his various adventures with Crowley (peak crush behaviour)

and that's why this is my favourite part of the season

because this, to me, says more about Aziraphale than Crowley, a) because like I said before, Aziraphale is positively tickled to be saved by Crowley b) making Crowley happy makes him happy even when they're in immediate danger.

So, what I found interesting about their dynamic this season is that while Crowley may "move too fast" for Aziraphale with suggesting running off together, in a lot of ways, Aziraphale is already comfortable with things we see Crowley coming to terms with in real time i.e. Aziraphale already knew in the 40s that they would always get each other off the hook (Crowley knew because he'd been coming through for Aziraphale for a very long time by that point as well but he's not comfortable with admitting it)

he was already comfortable with the knowledge he'd put his life in Crowley's hands, that he trusted him absolutely

or things like publicly showing some form of intimacy

and Crowley being like wait what?

and in that sense, Aziraphale is the one who pushes Crowley and is the one who's actually moving faster

even in the first episode while Crowley natural talks about them as a pair, he doesn't call attention to it

and when he reverts from talking about them as a unit to talking about himself

Aziraphale immediately calls attention to the fact that there is in fact a "them", he verbalizes it

and he has no problem admitting that he both needs and wants Crowley by his side

so it was interesting seeing these things and this intimacy and this personal development of acknowledging how much they mean to each other while they also have fundamental ideological differences that in the past had compelled the other to look at things from a different point of view but in the end (of the season) ends up ripping them apart.

#good omens #good omens season 2 #aziraphale x crowley #crowley x aziraphale