#(Not everything needs to be Said in Words TM to be Understood)

[puffins-muffins]

Control - The Attraction

Pairing: Jax Teller (AU-ish) x FemaleLawyer!Reader Word Count: ~10,370 Summary: Back in Charming, your return to TM and SAMCRO leaves you feeling a complex mix of nostalgia and anxiety. As Jax's trial approaches, you face mounting pressure from a relentless prosecution and your growing feelings for Jax complicate your focus. Warnings: 18+ only please, cursing, descriptions of anxiety/panic attack. Brief mention of character death(s), Jax (he's his own warning).

A/N: Ommmmgggg you guyyys!! I am blown away by all the love and support for this story! This one was an emotional rollercoaster. It kiiiinnd of got away from me, but with reader back in Charming now, there was a lot that needed to be explored. Feedback always appreciated. Beta'd by myself, all mistakes are my own. Please enjoy it as much as I do!! Part 3, here we go! 💜

Part 1 | Part 2

Sitting at the old diner, the one you and your dad used to frequent for dinners, you stared down at your untouched coffee, the bitter scent rising into the air, tightening the knot that had taken residence in your stomach. You had sworn to yourself years ago that you wouldn’t get pulled back into this world, into the familiar emotional storms. Yet, here you were, back in Charming, with Jax only a few miles away—and that ironclad resolve you once had was starting to fracture.

Your conversation from the interrogation room replayed relentlessly in your mind, Jax��s words as sharp now as when he first said them. “Maybe you’re afraid you’re not over me.” He looked right through you, cutting past your defenses. He had seen the truth in you, that you hadn’t really moved on. Not completely. With one look, he knew it.

You hated that he could still read you so easily, that after all these years apart, he still knew exactly which buttons to press. It was maddening, that sense of vulnerability. You were supposed to be stronger now. Smarter. But being around Jax, it felt like every wall you had built came crumbling down the moment you walked into that room. The way he looked at you—like no time had passed at all—made it impossible to pretend that you didn’t feel the same pull. 

Seeing him again brought it all rushing back. The way he used to look at you, the way he made you feel like the world outside didn’t exist when you were together. How he’d made you feel seen and understood, in a way no one else ever had. You spent years trying to fill that void, tried to find that connection with others, but it had never been the same. No one had never been Jax.

You sighed, rubbing your temples, the weight of it all pressing down on you. What was it about him that made it so hard to let go? After everything, after all the pain, the heartbreak, why did being near him still make you feel like you were tethered to him in some unbreakable way?

A familiar voice pulled you from your thoughts, warm and gravelly with a hint of surprise. “Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”

You glanced up, finding Wayne Unser standing a few feet away, his worn face cracking into a smile. The knot in your stomach eased, replaced by a wave of nostalgia. You stood, offering a hug that he accepted warmly. “Chief! It’s so good to see you.”

He chuckled as he pulled back, shaking his head. “Ain’t the Chief anymore, darlin’. Haven’t been for some time now.”

You smiled, gesturing toward the empty seat at your table. “You’ll always be the Chief to me,” you said fondly.

He nodded, settling into the chair across from you. There was something comforting about having him here, someone who had always been in your corner and witnessed your life intersect with the club’s chaos.

“I was hoping we’d run into each other while I’m in town.” you said, your tone soft as you folded your hands on the table. “You really saved my ass with that character letter.” 

Unser waved it off, his smile fading as he leaned back in the chair. “Would’ve done a lot more if I could’ve. Jax may be in deep, but I’ve known that boy since he was runnin’ around on his tricycle. He’s a good man, even if he’s gotten himself tangled in a mess.”

You nodded, feeling the weight of the conversation shift. Unser had always seen the good in Jax, even when others didn’t. And that loyalty was something you admired, but it also made you wonder how much of Jax’s actions over the years Wayne had turned a blind eye to, how much he excused for the sake of it.

“Jax’s world has gotten a lot more complicated,” you said carefully, not wanting to betray the growing unease you felt about the case. “But I think he’s still the same underneath all of it. I just hope I can do enough to get him out of this.”

Unser gave you a long, knowing look, his eyes scanning your face like he was searching for something. “I can tell this ain’t just about the case for you,” he said, voice low but steady. “I remember how you two used to look at each other. It was you and Jax against the world for a while there.” 

You glanced down, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks, but before you could respond, Unser continued, his tone softer now. “You know I care about Jax. Always have. And I care about you too. I ain’t tryin’ to meddle, but you gotta be careful. That world, it takes more than it gives. And once it gets its hooks in you, it’s hard to break free.”

His words hung heavy in the air, and you found yourself nodding slowly, the truth of what he said sinking in. But you had always known that. You experienced first-hand the toll the club took on people, felt how it could consume everything. 

“I know,” you said, voice barely above a whisper. “I always promised myself I wouldn’t get pulled back in.”

Unser smiled gently, but there was a sadness in his eyes. “Sometimes life has a way of draggin’ us back to the shit we swore we’d never return to. You just gotta make sure it’s what you really want.”

You took a deep breath, the weight of his words settling over you. “I’m only here to keep him out of prison,” you said, and though you meant it, you could hear the uncertainty in your own voice.

Unser didn’t press further. Instead, he gave a slow nod, his gaze softening with understanding. “Just remember, there’s always a choice, even when it doesn’t feel like it. And I’m around to help anyway I can.” 

You offered him a grateful smile. Wayne Unser had always been more than just the town’s chief of police—he had been a guiding presence, a steady hand amid the disorder. And now, even though his health was failing and his role in Charming had changed, he still had that same calming influence.

“Thank you, Chief,” you said sincerely. 

He reached across the table, patting your hand gently. “You’re gonna be alright, darlin’. And your Daddy’d be real proud of you. Just keep your head on straight and don’t let that boy take you down with him.”

His words about your dad hit you harder than you anticipated. A familiar ache of loss surged in your chest, and you swallowed thickly, managing a small smile. If he were here, he would be proud of you; he lived and died by this club, loyal to SAMCRO until the bitter end. In ways you hadn’t fully comprehended yet, that loyalty ran deep within you as well. 

For a moment, you allowed yourself to believe that maybe you could navigate this, maybe you could keep the line between personal and professional from blurring. But as Unser stood to leave, his words stayed with you, lingering in your mind after he’d walked out the door.

You sat there a while longer, staring at your coffee, knowing that soon enough, you’d have to face the inevitable—Jax, the case, and everything that came with it.

That evening, you sat cross-legged on the hotel bed, your laptop balanced on a stack of case files, the screen glowing in the dimly lit room. The soft hum of the air conditioner filled the silence as you stared at the notes scattered around you, taking a deep breath before unmuting the conference call.

“Alright, Liz,” you said, your voice steady despite the mental whirlwind of information you were trying to process. “Let’s go over what you’ve found so far.”

Liz’s voice crackled through the line, sharp and focused, though you could hear the exhaustion creeping in. You both had been burning the candle at both ends. “First off, the witnesses—they’re falling apart. Like I mentioned earlier, one of them wasn’t even in town on the night of the murder. And the other? He’s changed his story three times now. The prosecution’s trying to hold them together with duct tape and hope.”

A smirk tugged at the corner of your mouth as you jotted down notes, but the situation was far from funny. “Good, we’ll shred them on cross. What about the arresting officer? Connolly?”

Liz’s tone shifted, growing more intense. “Connolly’s dirty. Filthy, actually. I tracked down a couple of large deposits made into his account, way beyond his salary. The timing of one deposit matches up almost perfectly with Jax’s arrest.”

Your breath hitched for a second, your pen pausing mid-note. “So he’s being paid off,” you muttered, processing. “We just need to find out who’s pulling his strings.”

“That’s where things get murky,” Liz replied, her voice lowering. “I’ve got leads tying him to a rival MC, but nothing concrete yet. It’s more like whispers. Still digging.”

The mention of the rival MC made your pulse quicken. This wasn’t just a murder case—it was layered with club politics and buried secrets. “If we can prove Connolly’s connection, it could blow the prosecution’s case wide open. Anything on the murder weapon?”

“No sign of it,” Liz said, frustration seeping into her voice. “The cops don’t have it, and no one’s talking.”

You leaned back against the headboard, tapping a pen against your knee as you reviewed your strategy. “We hit them where they’re weakest. Discredit the witnesses—tear their timelines apart. Then expose Connolly’s dirty money and ties to the rival MC. If we paint him as corrupt, we cast enough doubt to cripple their case.”

It was a solid plan, but your mind wasn’t entirely on it. Jax lingered in your thoughts, you hadn’t seen him since you dropped him off at TM, just a few exchanged texts. You knew you were avoiding him—avoiding the way his presence stirred up old feelings.

The case was slipping into something bigger, and you couldn't afford distractions. But no matter how hard you tried, Jax was always there, just under your skin, pulling you closer, and threatening to unravel everything.

Your phone buzzed, jolting you from your thoughts. It was Jax. It was as if he knew he was consuming your mind.

“Heard you’re back in Charming… avoiding me?”

Your stomach tightened. You’d forgotten just how small Charming was—news traveled fast, especially when it involved Jax. A mix of irritation and anxiety settled in as you realized that even without him realizing it, he was forcing you to face everything you’d been trying to avoid. Each moment brought you closer to the inevitable, and despite your best efforts to stay distant, you knew you couldn’t escape it forever.

You stared at the blinking cursor on your phone, but the weight of everything felt overwhelming. Not just Jax—the entire case. Connolly, the witnesses, the unexplained deposits. Something felt wrong. You couldn't shake the feeling that something deeper was at play, something corrupt and insidious threading through the heart of this case. But whatever it was, it would all have to wait. First, you had to deal with Jax.

“Everything okay?” Liz’s voice cut through your haze, snapping you back to the present.

You cleared your throat, adjusting your grip on the phone. “Yeah, just a text from Jax. He knows I’m in town.”

There was a pause on the other end, and you could practically hear Liz’s raised eyebrow. “Wow, his ears must’ve been burning. You’ve been avoiding him, haven’t you?”

You let out a short, hollow laugh. “Yeah, you could say that. I’ve been busy with prep, but... it’s more than that.” You pushed yourself off the bed, pacing the room. “The truth is, seeing him again after all this time... it stirs up shit I’ve tried to move past. But I know I can’t keep dodging it forever.”

Liz didn’t press further, always knowing when to hold back. “You’ll handle it. You always do.”

You sat back down on the bed, staring at Jax’s message again. “It’s just… TM, this place, it’s like stepping into a time capsule. It holds all the memories from when everything was simpler. When things weren’t so... complicated.”

Liz was quiet for a moment, then spoke softly. “Do you think he’s changed? Jax, I mean.”

Her question hit deeper than you expected. You’d been avoiding that thought too. From the few moments you’d shared recently, it was clear that life had weighed heavily on him. The charm was still there, but beneath it was a hardness, a fatigue you hadn’t seen before. And yet, the pull between you, the familiarity of him—it was still there, almost as if no time had passed at all.

“I don’t know,” you admitted, your voice quieter now. “Maybe he has, maybe he hasn’t. Part of me thinks he has. The other part knows better.”

Liz was quiet for a beat. “Well, if anyone can navigate this, it’s you. Just… don’t lose yourself in the process.”

You swallowed hard, her words hitting closer to home than you wanted to admit. “I won’t,” you said, more to reassure yourself than to convince her. “Thanks, Liz. You’ve done great work so far. Just promise me you’ll be extra careful. The people we’re looking into are dangerous.”

“Absolutely,” Liz replied, her tone serious. “Just remember, you’re not in this alone.”

You nodded, even though she couldn’t see you. “Thank you, that means a lot. I’ll call you after I meet with the club.”

Liz’s tone sharpened. “I’ve got my guard up, don’t worry. I’ll keep pushing on Connolly and the money trail. We’ll crack this.” she added before the line clicked off.

You set the phone down beside you, staring at it for a moment before typing a quick response to Jax.

“Let’s meet tomorrow. Noon. TM.”

You hit send before you could overthink it. There. Done. Now it was just a matter of facing whatever came next. You were confident in your ability to handle the legal side of things, but Jax... that was different. Seeing him again wasn’t just about the case; it was about the past, about unresolved emotions, and the complicated mess of history between you both.

But as you leaned back against the headboard, that familiar knot of uncertainty tightened in your stomach again. Charming felt like a minefield—corruption beneath the surface, power plays behind the scenes. And at the center of it all was Jax, pulling you into something that was about more than just legal strategy.

You weren’t sure what the next day would bring, but one thing was certain: this wasn’t just another case. It was personal, in more ways than one.

And you weren’t sure if you were ready for that.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As you pulled into Teller-Morrow, your stomach twisted with unease. You hadn’t even stepped out of the car yet, and already you felt the weight of the memories pressing down on you. Before you could even gather your courage, the office door swung open, and there she stood—Gemma Teller. 

Your breath caught in your throat. Gemma had always been more than just Jax’s mother—she was a force of nature. The history between you two was complex, a mix of respect, tension, and unresolved emotions. She had always wanted Jax to take his rightful place at the head of the club, and at times, you felt like she viewed you as a threat to that vision. She never outright said it, but you could feel it in her looks, her comments, that underlying worry you’d pull Jax away from the life she envisioned for him. In her mind, love was dangerous if it meant her son might stray from the path she’d set for him.

But things hadn’t turned out the way any of you expected. The decisions Jax made, the path the club took—it all happened regardless of your love.

Somehow, you willed yourself out of the safety of your car, and now, standing here in the parking lot, you weren’t sure how Gemma was going to greet you. Would it be the sharp-edged woman who used to see you as a potential obstacle, or the maternal figure who had, at times, treated you like family?

As she approached, her sharp gaze softened slightly when she saw you. There was a flicker of something—recognition, nostalgia maybe—but Gemma being Gemma, it was hard to tell what she was really thinking. She stood there for a moment, looking you over, as if assessing whether time had changed you—or if you were still the same woman she once had a complicated relationship with.

“Well, look who’s back,” Gemma said, her voice laced with that familiar mix of sarcasm and curiosity. Her eyes scanned you, and though her expression remained unreadable, you could feel the weight of her scrutiny. She hadn’t lost her edge.

“Gemma,” you said, stepping forward, trying to keep your voice steady, even though your heart was pounding. “It’s good to see you.”

For a split second, the tension hung in the air. Then, to your surprise, her lips curled into a half-smile, and she pulled you into a hug. It wasn’t warm exactly, but it wasn’t cold either. It was… familiar.

“You too, baby,” she said softly, her tone just a little gentler than you expected. When she pulled back, her eyes locked onto yours, searching for something, though you couldn’t quite tell what. “Missed having you around here.”

Her words caught you off guard, but you nodded, unsure of how to respond. The history between you both was too complicated for simple pleasantries. Gemma folded her arms, giving you another long look. “You still look good, kid. All grown up. Life must be treating you well out there.”

“Something like that,” you replied, offering a faint smile. You wanted to say more, but any words caught in your throat.

She raised an eyebrow, and you could feel her probing deeper, looking past your words to the things you weren’t saying. “I know coming back here ain’t easy for you,” she said, her voice lowering, all traces of humor gone. “Lotta ghosts, I’m sure. But Jax needs you, sweetheart.”

There it was. Gemma was always three steps ahead, and this time, she was trying to use your own feelings against you. She wasn’t just reminding you of your connection to Jax; she was weaponizing it. Like she always did when she wanted something.

But this time, you saw it clearly. Years ago, you might have let her play on the soft spots you had for Jax without even realizing it. Back then, you were less guarded, still figuring out how to navigate people like Gemma. But now? Now you were older, sharper, and you understood her game better than you ever had before.

Then again, with Gemma, it was always about Jax first and foremost. Beneath the tension, there was a quiet, unspoken respect between you—born from your shared loyalty to him. And you almost couldn’t fault her because of it.

Almost.

You fought the urge to roll your eyes, instead forcing the sweetest fake smile you could manage. “I’m here to help,” you said, your tone flat but polite.

Gemma studied you for another long moment before she nodded, her expression softening just a bit. “Good.” She gestured toward the clubhouse with a tilt of her head. “They’re inside. Go on in, baby.”

You hesitated, feeling the weight of everything you were about to walk into. Then, with a deep breath, you headed toward the clubhouse, knowing that the real test was just beginning.

The door creaked open, and you stepped inside, feeling a wave of familiarity wash over you. The air was thick with the scent of leather, motor oil, and the faint tang of beer and cigarettes. It was captivating, pulling you back in time. Memories rushed in—laughter echoing through the halls, heated arguments by the bar, the camaraderie that once filled every corner. The nostalgia was almost too much to bear.

The room hummed with energy, a mix of business and brotherhood. Heads turned when you walked in, the club members greeted you with expressions that ranged from curiosity to warmth. Jax stood near the bar, flanked by Chibs and Tig. His body language was casual, but the moment his eyes locked onto yours, everything seemed to shift. That tension, the current that had always existed between you, surged again. You felt it deep in your gut, that familiar flutter that left you off balance.

"Look who finally decided to show up!" Tig's voice cut through the room, teasing and lighthearted, a grin spreading across his face. He approached quickly, pulling you into a tight side hug and pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "Thought we'd have to send out a search party."

You forced a smile, trying to push down the knot in your chest. "Guess I couldn’t stay away forever, huh?"

Chibs was next, stepping forward with his usual warmth, his broad shoulders a comforting sight. "Good to see ye, lass," he said, pulling you in for a brief but solid hug. His embrace steadied you, easing the tension just a little.

"You too, Chibs," you replied, your voice steadying as you caught sight of the "Sergeant-at-Arms" patch across his chest. He was still looking after his brother, still his protector.

And then there was Jax. He hadn’t moved from his spot by the bar, his posture relaxed, but his eyes—those piercing blues—were locked onto you, unreadable yet intense. Something flickered in them as he watched you cross the room. Anticipation? Vulnerability? You couldn’t quite place it, but it made your heart race.

“Hey,” Jax said, his voice low and calm, offering a nod that felt almost casual—except for the way his gaze held yours, unrelenting.

“Hey,” you replied, forcing a lightness into your tone that didn’t match the way your chest tightened. It didn’t feel casual. Not with him standing there, the weight of his presence bearing down on you, making the room feel smaller.

Looking impossibly good in his leather kutte, worn and weathered, clinging to him like a second skin. His broad shoulders were more defined than you remembered, the white T-shirt underneath emphasizing the lean muscle that flexed with his every subtle movement. His jeans hung low on his hips, and at his side, the knife that once belonged to his father—a reminder of the life he was born into. But in contrast to the rough edges, his signature white Nikes were spotless, a small, almost ironic sign of the control he still maintained amidst all the mayhem.

With that familiar boyish smile tugging at his lips, and his gaze holding you captive, it felt like time hadn’t moved at all. The pull between you, always there, had only intensified. His eyes swept over you, lingering just long enough to make your breath catch, and in that moment, your carefully built defenses began to dismantle.

Jax didn’t need to say anything for you to feel it—the connection, the history. And as you stood there, caught in his gaze, you realized just how much power he still held over you.

Exhaling a shaky breath, a familiar towering figure stepped into your space. Opie stood before you, his presence bringing you back instantly. His eyes were soft but filled with gratitude, and though he didn’t say much, you could feel the depth of his emotion.

Without a word, he pulled you into a tight hug, his arms strong and comforting around you. The weight of everything seemed to ease as you leaned into him. There was something solid, unwavering about Opie—his presence had always been a source of quiet brotherly strength.

He pulled back, just slightly, his hands resting on your shoulders as he looked you over. There was no need for words between you. You could feel what he was saying in the look he gave you—a silent thank you, for being here, for standing by Jax. It wasn’t easy, and he knew it.

“Ope,” you said quietly, your fingers gently brushing over the VP patch stitched into his kutte. He nodded, his gaze softening even more. He didn’t need to say it; you knew he appreciated you more than words could express.

After a beat, he released you with a gentle pat on the shoulder, stepping back but keeping that connection between you.

You finished greeting the rest of the Sons, taking in Happy and Juice for the first time, while Jax stood nearby, arms crossed, his posture casual but his eyes sharp. He gave a quick introduction. “Juice is sort of our intelligence officer,” he said, nodding toward the younger man with a smirk. “Anything you or your girl need, he’s your guy.”

You gave Juice a polite smile, but your mind was racing, struggling to process everything around you. The room was filled with faces—some familiar, some new—each one stirring a different emotion. Jax’s voice broke through the noise in your head, steady and low as he filled you in on what you’d missed. He listed off Bobby, currently away in Vegas on an Elvis gig, Piney’s tragic death, and then, quieter, Clay’s betrayal and eventual demise. These weren’t just updates—they were the scars the club carried, and you could feel the toll it had taken on them.

Your eyes flicked to Opie, a silent understanding passed between you. Piney’s death wasn’t just a club loss—it was deeply personal, and you could see the weight of it in Opie’s eyes. There were no words needed. Just that brief acknowledgment of everything you’d both lost due to this life.

You glanced around the room as he spoke, the walls lined with mugshots and memories. There was more than you remembered, each one a stark reminder of the lives that had been lost or altered. Jax’s voice, though calm, carried the heavy toll of everything that had happened. “We’ve had to rebuild… but we’re still standing.”

You nodded, trying to absorb it all, but the sheer weight of the club’s history left you spinning. So much had changed, and yet, in so many ways, everything felt the same. The familiarity of it—the faces, the raw energy of the room—only made the losses hit harder. Processing Jax’s brief rundown of the club’s last decade felt like trying to catch your breath while drowning. The room felt entirely too small, the air thicker with years of grief, brotherhood, and blood.

Your chest tightened, and suddenly the noise of the room faded, replaced by a suffocating sense of overwhelm. The memories of your dad, the endless cycle of loyalty and sacrifice, the faces you used to know—it all crashed into you at once, relentless and unyielding. You could feel your pulse quicken, your breath becoming shallow. The walls felt like they were closing in, the weight of the past pressing down on you, and no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t stop the anxiety from bubbling up.

Your hands trembled as you pulled your phone out of your pocket, desperate for an escape. “Hey, do you guys mind? I need to check in with my office real quick,” you said, trying to sound nonchalant, though your voice was tight and strained. Without waiting for a reply, you turned on your heel and headed for the door, the room suddenly too stifling.

The warm air hit your skin as you stepped outside, but it did little to calm the storm brewing inside. You hurried to the side of the building, out of sight, and leaned against the rough brick wall, your breaths coming in shallow, rapid bursts.

You pressed your trembling hands to your chest, willing your body to calm down, but the tightness only worsened. The faces inside, the ghosts of the past, the changes you hadn’t been there to see—it all swirled around you. And Jax, standing there like a god damn living reminder of everything you’d tried to move on from, only made it harder.

Your pulse pounded in your ears, and your vision narrowed as the panic surged through you. You squeezed your eyes shut, focusing on your breathing, but each one felt like you were dragging it through quicksand. The edges of your vision blurred as you fought to keep from losing control entirely.

You pressed your back harder into the wall, as if grounding yourself to something solid would keep you from slipping under. One breath, then another. But the waves kept coming, relentless, and all you could do was ride it out.

Lost in your desperate attempt to control your thoughts, Jax’s sudden appearance startled you. “Jesus Christ, Jax!” you gasped, “Can’t a girl have a panic attack in peace!?”

The humor was your defense, but he saw right through it. His eyes softened, and he took a small step closer, his expression full of quiet concern, no judgment in his gaze.

“These still happening?” His voice was gentle, like he already knew the answer but needed to hear it from you.

You shook your head slowly, trying to reassure him—or maybe yourself. “It’s been a while,” you admitted. And it had been. The panic attacks hadn’t started until after your dad’s funeral, when the weight of everything had finally come crashing down on you. They had been rare since then, but being here—back in the thick of it—was bringing it all back.

Jax had been there for the first one. You could still feel the memory of his hands cupping your face, his thumbs brushing away your tears as he’d tried to steady you.

“Just breathe, Pep. You’re alright, baby,” he’d murmured, his voice strong yet soft, grounding you as you fought for air. His hands held you like an anchor, keeping you planted in the present, calming the storm raging inside you.

You could see in his eyes now that he wanted to do it again—grip your face, hold you still, remind you how to breathe—but he resisted, just watching you carefully, giving you space to pull yourself back together.

“I’m okay,” you whispered, voice softer now, the edge of panic slowly retreating.

Jax nodded, his gaze never wavering, his presence a quiet reassurance. He didn’t push, didn’t offer words that would feel too heavy right now. He just stood there, close enough that you could feel him, the steady hum of him calming the storm inside you like it always had.

As the tightness in your chest began to ease, you exhaled slowly, embedding yourself in the present. Jax stayed where he was, steady and familiar. You didn’t have to look up to know his eyes were still on you, watching patiently, waiting for you to be ready.

You shifted, pushing your hair back, trying to regain your composure. “So,” you began, your voice a little uneven, “that crash course in club history… it left out a lot.”

A small, knowing smile tugged at Jax’s lips. “Figured I’d save the rest for when you weren’t looking like you were about to bolt.”

You let out a breathy laugh, shaking your head. “You really know how to make a girl feel welcome.”

He shrugged, taking a small step closer. “You’re here, aren’t you?”

It wasn’t really a question. He had always been good at saying what mattered without actually saying it. You nodded, meeting his gaze. The air between you was charged, but somehow, it felt a little easier now.

Jax leaned against the wall beside you, his shoulder just close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating from him. Neither of you spoke—just stood in the weight of all that had changed, all that remained. Despite the years and distance, there was a strange comfort in the quiet, a reminder of the bond that never really broke.

“I didn’t know it would be like this,” your voice barely above a whisper. “Coming back.”

He glanced over at you, his eyes softening. “It’s different now. A lot’s changed.”

You nodded, feeling the weight of his words settle over you. “Yeah,” you murmured, not elaborating because you didn’t need to. He understood. He always did.

Jax shifted slightly, his arm brushing yours in a way that felt intentional but not forceful. “But some things are still the same,” he said, his voice carrying a comfort that felt like home.

You turned your head, really looking at him this time. And in that moment, you realized nothing had changed between you, not really. All the ways Jax made you feel alive were still there, as intense as ever, threading their way through this version of you. The laughter you’d shared, the unguarded moments, all echoed in your mind, reminding you of why it had been so easy to love him all those years ago.

You were screwed.

“Yeah,” you said quietly. “Some things.”

Jax held your gaze, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart skip. He nodded slightly, then asked, “You ready to head back in?”

You took a deep breath. “Yeah,” you said, forcing a small fake smile. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

He straightened up, extending his hand to you. It wasn’t just a simple gesture—it was an offer of solidarity, a bridge between the past and the present. You hesitated. You knew what taking his hand meant. It wasn’t just comfort—it was an acknowledgment of everything that once existed between you, everything that still lingered.

And those hands, rough, calloused—the hands that had held you, commanded you, loved you. Memories surged, the way those hands used to move over your body, strong but gentle, leaving you breathless in ways that no one else ever could. Your pulse quickened at the thought, your body remembering what your mind tried to suppress.

You considered pulling back, keeping the distance you’d carefully built to protect yourself. But there was something in his gaze—steadfast, patient—that made you relent. Maybe it was the silent promise of understanding, or maybe it was the sense that, for once, you didn’t have to face it all alone.

As you slid your hand into his palm, the rush of contact sent a familiar ache through you. Like touching a live wire, the sensation both comforting and dangerous at the same time.

The years between you seemed to dissolve, and it felt like you were back to a time when holding his hand meant safety, when it felt like the most natural thing in the world. But now, that safety was bittersweet, tangled up with all the things that had changed, things you couldn’t undo.

As you walked back inside together, your nerves slowly steadied, but not entirely. The weight of what came next crashing around you—a shift from personal to professional that you weren’t sure you could make seamlessly.

The Sons were already moving toward the meeting room, a familiar rhythm as they filed in one by one. You hesitated for a moment as you approached the double wooden doors that separated the main hall from the room where so many decisions had been made. It was the heart of SAMCRO, a place where only full patch members were allowed, unless invited. As Jax walked ahead, he turned to you, his eyes locking with yours. An unspoken acknowledgment of that invitation passing between you.

You took a steady breath, following Jax’s lead as he gestured for the others to remove their electronic gear. Phones, watches, anything that could transmit or record was left behind on the counter by the door. A small but necessary security measure, one that reminded you just how serious things were.

Jax stepped aside, letting you enter first—a show of respect that didn’t go unnoticed. As you crossed the threshold, your pulse quickened, your thoughts rushing back to the task at hand—his defense, the case you needed to build. Yet despite your professional focus, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were stepping into something far more personal.

The familiar room unfolded before you: a heavy wooden table at its center, surrounded by chairs reserved for the members. The walls were lined with SAMCRO memorabilia, chronicling the club’s long history. Every detail brought back memories of the countless times you’d been outside those doors, waiting, wondering what decisions were being made. Now, you were stepping inside, reentering the world you once fought so hard to leave behind.

The door clicked shut behind you, sealing you in with the weight of the past and the uncertainty of what was to come. Jax pulled out a chair, motioning for you to sit. You took it, keeping your focus on the task at hand, even as the memories swirled around you. You knew this was only the beginning, both in the case and in facing what the two of you had left unresolved.

As Jax moved to the head of the table, it hit you all over again—he wasn’t just a member of this club anymore. He was the club, its leader, its heart, and its future. The sight of him in that spot—the president’s chair—was jarring, a far cry from the man you once knew who had always been just a step behind the power, always questioning his place in it. Now, though, he settled into that chair like he’d been there forever, like it was made for him.

Seeing Jax there for the first time sent a wave of emotions through you, some you couldn’t even name. He exuded authority, a quiet, undeniable control over the room. The way the guys around him, men you’d known for years, deferred to him without question told you everything about how he commanded respect—something he’d always struggled with when Clay was in charge. But this Jax was different. He had the weight of leadership on his shoulders, and it suited him, in a way that made you ache with want.

There was no denying the way his presence filled the room, his hands resting on the table with that same quiet strength you’d seen so many times before. He didn’t need to speak to demand attention; the sheer force of his presence did that for him. The patches on his kutte—his Reaper, President, Redwood Original—seemed to glow under the low lighting, a reminder of all he’d earned, all he’d sacrificed to sit where he was now.

You swallowed hard, trying to focus, but seeing Jax in that seat brought up more than just memories. It aroused something deeper inside you, something visceral and complicated, something you felt like you wanted to explore.

This was his world now; one you weren’t sure you could navigate the same way. But as his eyes met yours across the table, there was a flicker of the Jax you’d always known, the one who would burn the world down to protect the people he loved. And at the center of that, was you.

No matter how much time had passed, how much had changed, you could feel it. The invisible thread that tied you to him, pulling tight in moments like this. You’d tried to sever it, tried to walk away from it—but here you were, sitting across from him, feeling every bit as connected as ever. Jax might command the club now, but in that brief, intense exchange of glances, you realized you still commanded a part of him too.

The meeting was intense but productive. You stood among the Sons, the weight of their stares heavy upon you as you recapped everything uncovered so far. Tension and anticipation filled the room as you detailed the rival MC you suspected might be involved in Jax’s case and the corruption within Charming.

As you spoke, your voice steady and confident, you felt the atmosphere shift. The men leaned in, their focus entirely on you, absorbing every word. Jax watched from his spot at the table, his expression a mix of admiration and intensity. There was something powerful in the way you controlled their attention, the confidence radiating off you. In that moment, you were no longer just a part of this world; you were a force within it, and he couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride for the woman standing before him, unflinching and resolute.

With determination, you laid out the plan. The club would work their angles, gathering intel the way they did. “But,” you said firmly, your tone leaving no room for debate, “you guys have to stay out of trouble. Jax’s freedom absolutely depends on it.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Weeks passed in a blur of pre-trial motions and legal preparation. You were constantly on the move—drafting briefs, reviewing discovery, and prepping witnesses for deposition. Every day felt like a strategic sprint, as you meticulously crafted arguments and counterarguments, anticipating the prosecution’s next move. Each court appearance was a balancing act, maintaining a sharp, composed professionalism—all while bearing the emotional weight that hung over everything. The late nights spent strategizing with Liz felt endless as she continued to uncover more leads, but the pressure mounted with each passing day.

Amid the whirlwind of legal battles, your connection with Jax grew deeper than you’d expected. Late nights over drinks became the norm—what started as case discussions often shifted to more personal conversations. You found yourself sharing pieces of your life beyond Charming, and Jax listened intently. The barriers you’d kept up for so long were starting to crack. Lingering looks, brief touches—each one drawing you closer. The tension between you was impossible to ignore, even if neither of you said it aloud. And quietly, you began to rely on him more than you ever thought you would.

As you and Jax grew closer, you struggled to keep your emotional defenses intact, fully aware of the dangerous game you were playing. Your heart was betraying your mind, and you understood the potential consequences. You had always been flexible with boundaries when the situation called for it—that’s what made you so damn good at your job. But getting involved with Jax beyond the attorney-client relationship felt like a line you couldn’t afford to cross. Every moment with him brought you closer to that boundary, and despite your reservations, the gravitational pull between you was undeniable.

The trial date had finally been set, but the initial relief quickly turned to dread when you learned about the judge—one notoriously known for his stance against offenders like Jax. His reputation sent a wave of unease through you. Renowned for being a stickler for the law, he rarely exhibited leniency toward defendants with ties to criminal organizations—alleged or otherwise, and you understood that this was a significant setback for Jax’s defense. It was clear that drastic action was needed.

As you prepared for the next hearing, the reality of the situation became increasingly daunting. The prosecution had seemingly stacked the deck against Jax, armed with an overwhelming trove of evidence that you knew was questionable at best. Witnesses had been lined up, all poised to testify against him, yet you sensed that many had been coerced or incentivized to provide testimony that would serve the state’s narrative. The prosecution’s strategy relied on the judge's reputation to sway the jury, and you felt the walls closing in around you.

In court, you stood confidently to argue for a change of venue, fully aware this was your last-ditch effort to tilt the scales of justice. Jax sat at the defense table behind you, his presence a steadying force as you gathered your thoughts. Despite the anxiety churning in your gut, you felt empowered, ready to make your case.

“Your Honor,” you began, your voice steady but laced with urgency, “given the high-profile nature of this case and the appointment of Judge Hartford—who has a well-documented history of issuing disproportionately severe rulings in cases of this nature—my client cannot be assured a fair trial in this jurisdiction. Furthermore, the prosecution’s evidence, while admitted, raises substantial concerns regarding its reliability. Key pieces of evidence rest on circumstantial foundations and are bolstered by questionable witness testimony, which has been accepted without the necessary scrutiny.”

You paused, gauging the judge's reaction as the courtroom remained silent. “This is not about deflecting responsibility, Your Honor, but about upholding the principle of impartial justice. Mr. Teller is entitled to a fair and unbiased trial, and the current circumstances of these proceedings threaten to undermine that right.”

The judge’s gaze hardened as he responded, his tone sharp and unyielding. “Counselor, while you present a well-prepared argument, your concerns do not rise to the level required for a change of venue. Your assertion that this court, or any court within this jurisdiction, is incapable of impartiality due to unrelated past cases is both unfounded and inappropriate. I will not tolerate further implications of bias. The trial will proceed here, as scheduled, and I expect you to adhere to the procedural standards of this court.”

The weight of disappointment crashed over you as the motion was denied. The trial would move forward under conditions that were not only unfavorable but also potentially unjust, given the prosecution's ability to present suspicious evidence without proper challenge. You knew that each piece of evidence they had, whether it stemmed from questionable chain-of-custody practices or testimonies that lacked verifiable credibility, posed a significant threat to your case.

Returning to Jax's side, you were left with the grim realization that navigating this battlefield required you not only to confront legal obstacles but also to expose potential ethical violations. The clock was ticking, and you needed to dismantle their narrative before the trial commenced, safeguarding not only Jax’s freedom but also the integrity of the legal system itself.

It was late afternoon when you finally emerged from the courthouse, frustration and exhaustion churning within you like a storm. The hearing had unfolded predictably, which was to say, not in your favor. You clenched your jaw, muttering under your breath about the judge’s dismissive demeanor and the uphill battle that lay ahead. Jax was waiting for you just outside, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, his relaxed posture standing in stark contrast to your tight, wound-up demeanor.

As you approached, he sensed the tension radiating off you, an electric charge around you. His expression shifted from concern to mischief, a glint of playful defiance in his eyes. “You know, for such a pretty lady, you’ve got a seriously intimidating scowl going on there,” he teased, an easy smile spreading across his face.

You shot him a sharp glare, irritation bubbling to the surface. “Thanks for the insightful observation, Jax. I’m glad you’re here to help me manage my emotions.”

“I’m just saying, you might want to dial it down a bit before you scare someone.” He stepped closer, tilting his head slightly, amusement dancing in his eyes.

You rolled your eyes, annoyance deepening. “God, you’re annoying sometimes.”

His grin widened. “I’d forgotten how adorable you look when you’re this pissed off.”

You snorted at that. “Adorable?”  the word felt strange on your tongue, a jarring contrast to the storm of frustration brewing inside you. “I’m not trying to be adorable; I’m trying to do my job.”

“Hey, doing your job doesn’t mean you can’t have a little fun along the way,” he teased, stepping back with his hands raised in mock surrender. “I’m just looking out for you. Can’t have you getting all worked up like this, Pepper.”

His charm only fueled your frustration further. “I’m trying to keep everything from falling apart here, Jax. There’s a lot of pressure—”

“And you’re doing a fantastic job of it!” he exclaimed, his tone light yet sincere. “Look at you, holding it all together.” He paused, letting the moment linger. “But if you want a break from holding it all together, I’m here for that, too.”

Your lips twitched at the corners, and you fought to maintain your stern facade. “Are you trying to distract me from being angry right now?”

“Is it working?” he countered, a confident grin plastered across his face.

You let out a reluctant laugh, shaking your head as the frustration began to dissolve. You resolved, playfully lying, “No.”

Jax walked you to your car, his bike parked just a few spaces away. The tension hung between you like a heavy fog, unspoken thoughts swirling in the silence before he finally broke it, his expression shifting. His usual easy charm was tempered by something more serious, his brow furrowing slightly.

“Are things really that bad? How worried should I be after that?” he asked, his voice lower, almost cautious.

You noticed the concern on his face—his jaw tight, eyes searching yours for reassurance. It was rare to see him like this, letting his guard down enough to show he was unsettled. That weight sat heavy between you, and despite the deepening connection, you reminded yourself that it was your job to protect him, to keep him steady when things felt like they might tip over.

Sighing, you offered a small smile, forcing yourself to sound more certain than you felt. “It’s not ideal,” you admitted, “but I’ve handled worse. I wouldn’t lose sleep over it yet.”

Jax studied you for a moment, a flicker of relief crossing his face. “Good to hear,” he said, his voice softening.

You saw the tension in his shoulders ease, though you weren’t sure if it was because of your words or his faith in you. Either way, you resolved in that moment—to keep him from worrying, even if it meant keeping some of your own doubts to yourself.

“Hey,” he said, a familiar glint of mischief flickering in his eyes. “Your hotel isn’t far from here, is it?”

You frowned, caught off guard. “No, why?”

“Well,” he continued, leaning in a fraction closer, “how would you feel if I followed you back there? You could change and we can go for a ride on the bike. You know, like we used to.”

His suggestion lingered in the air, tempting yet charged with unspoken implications. Your heart raced at the thought, memories of past rides flooding back—the exhilarating rush of freedom and the undeniable chemistry between you. The idea was thrilling yet daunting, nostalgia mingling with the weight of your current reality.

You raised an eyebrow, trying to conceal your intrigue behind skepticism. “And you think a ride will magically fix everything?”

Jax shrugged, his grin unwavering. “Not fix everything, but it could help clear your head. It always did the trick before.”

You hesitated, your thoughts tangled in the mounting pressure from the trial and the stress that had built over the past weeks. “I don’t know, Jax. I have a lot to review tonight.”

“I understand,” he said, his tone softening. “But sometimes you need to step away from it all. Just one ride won’t hurt, right?”

As your eyes met, the noise of the world around you faded into the background. The thought of escaping, even for a little while, tugged at something in you. You could feel the tension in your chest loosening, if only slightly. The familiarity of being with Jax was hard to resist, especially with comforting memories of the past washing over you like a warm wave.

Your mind recalled that Saturday afternoon, so long ago, when he first convinced you to ride with him. Each ride after had only drawn you closer, igniting feelings you still didn’t fully understand to this day. The thrill of the road had always served as a backdrop for something much deeper between you.

Finally, you sighed, allowing your frustration to slip away. “Fine. But just a quick ride.”

“Awesome,” he said, barely containing his excitement as he moved back toward his bike. “I promise to get you back before the next crisis hits.”

A smile broke through your frustration, a flicker of joy emerging. Climbing into your car, you felt a mix of anticipation and lingering anxiety. As you drove, you glanced in the rearview mirror, watching Jax follow closely behind on his bike, a feeling of calm and safety washed over you.

When you reached your hotel, you parked and hurried inside, your heart racing not just from the thrill of the ride ahead but from the possibilities it held. After quickly changing into a t-shirt and jeans, you grabbed your jacket and stepped outside, the late evening sun casting a golden hue over everything.

Jax was waiting, his eyes lighting up as you emerged into the fading day. The way he looked at you sent a thrill coursing through your body.

You noticed the way his gaze roamed over you, his eyes tracing every detail as you moved with effortless confidence, dressed casually, more like the woman he knew all those years ago. The soft fabric of your shirt hugged your curves in all the right places, accentuating the changes that time had brought—subtle hints of maturity that only made you more intoxicating. He couldn’t help but admire how you carried yourself, a blend of poise and sensuality that sent a rush of heat coursing through him.

Every glance at you stirred something primal within him. Your smile lit up your face, and the glint in your eyes held a promise of mischief and tenderness. The way your hair fell perfectly around you, the subtle sway of your hips—it all drew him in. In that moment, you weren’t just a familiar face; you were a vision that awakened his deepest cravings, leaving him breathless with anticipation for what was to come.

“You look amazing, Pep,” he said, punctuating his words with a low whistle and an extra charming wink.

You rolled your eyes, but the heat of arousal spread through you at his compliment and the way his gaze devoured you. “Let’s just ride, Teller.”

“Yeah, let’s do that,” he replied, a hint of playfulness in his tone. Climbing onto the bike behind him, excitement surged through you, a heady mix of nerves and joy. You wrapped your arms around his waist, feeling the heat radiating from him, grounding you in a way that was both comforting and exhilarating. The smell of him was almost dizzying, an enticing blend of leather and spice, wrapped in the warm musk of his skin, it was utterly captivating. It all felt instinctual, as if you had never truly been apart.

As the bike surged forward, the hum of the engine vibrated beneath you, its power rolling through your body in waves. The sensation was addictive. You’d forgotten how freeing this felt—how the road opened ahead, inviting you into a world where nothing existed but the rush of air, the growl of the machine, and the strength of Jax’s body in front of you.

Your grip around his waist tightened instinctively, your hands resting against his toned frame, feeling the flex of muscle as he controlled the bike with effortless skill. The wind whipped through your hair, tugging at the strands, as you leaned into the turns, trusting him completely. With every curve of the road, you were reminded of just how alive you felt on the back of his bike, a feeling you hadn’t allowed yourself to experience in years.

The exhilaration flooded your senses, making your pulse race, your skin buzz. There was something thrilling about the speed, the raw power beneath you—and about being this connected to him again. Your body molded against his in a way that felt too natural, too right. You had forgotten how good this was, how good he felt. The familiar heat that always simmered between you both seemed to flare to life like a spark catching fire.

Each time his hand drifted back to yours to give a reassuring squeeze, it sent a jolt through your chest, a shock that had nothing to do with the bike and everything to do with the man in front of you. The scent of leather and Jax enveloping around you—a reminder of what you’d once had, what you’d always been drawn to. His strength, his recklessness, his loyalty.

The road stretched out ahead, but all you could focus on was him—his presence, his warmth, the pull of gravity that seemed to bring you closer with every mile. There was a tension building, a storm brewing in the spaces between you, and it wasn’t just about the ride. It was about him—the way he made you feel alive, dangerous, wanted.

And as the miles flew by, the line between the past and present blurred completely. Jax had always had this effect on you, waking something wild and unrestrained. The longer you stayed on that bike, the more you realized that no matter how much you had tried to distance yourself from him, from this, the connection was still there—burning hotter and brighter than ever. And you weren’t sure you wanted to fight it anymore.

As he parked the bike and cut the engine, the world around you faded into a distant hum, the adrenaline from the ride coursing through your veins like molten lava. You climbed off, laughter bubbling up inside you as you pulled off the helmet, shaking your hair loose. The wind had turned it into a wild, tousled halo framing your face, and in that moment, you felt liberated from the weight of your worries.

Jax inched closer, his body radiating heat that contrasted with the cool evening air. His eyes roamed over you, a smirk playing on his lips, and then he closed the distance, brushing a few loose strands behind your ear with a lingering touch. The simple act sent a thrill racing through your body, his fingers lingered against your skin, an intense reminder of how easily you could lose yourself in him.

“You’ve got that wild look going on,” he said, his voice a low, sultry whisper, laced with playful mischief. “Like the rebellious girl I fell for when I was seventeen.”

Heat flooded your cheeks, a rush of desire surging within you at the memory of that time—free, untamed, and filled with reckless abandon. The way he looked at you now sparked a forgotten excitement, coaxing out a spirit you hadn’t tapped into in years.

“Sometimes I really miss her,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper, as if saying it aloud made it even more real. You felt a pang of nostalgia, remembering the thrill of those carefree days and the adventurous essence that had once defined you.

Jax’s body pressed against yours in a way that sent sparks flying. He leaned in, his gaze locked onto yours, smoldering with an intensity that made your heart race. The air around you thickened with anticipation, that irresistible force drawing you together, the world around you fading away.

“Just so you know,” he murmured, his breath mingling with yours, heavy with longing, “I’ve always thought you looked hotter with a little chaos in your hair.”

The tension hung thick, saturated with desire. As you tilted your head back, your breath quickened, every nerve in your body alight with need. Just as his lips hovered dangerously close to yours, your phone buzzed violently against your thigh, shattering the moment like glass. You instinctively pulled away, breathless and disoriented.

You fumbled for your phone, your heart pounding in your chest as you glanced at the screen. Liz’s name flashed, accompanied by an urgent message:

“The prosecution just entered new evidence. We need to discuss our strategy ASAP.”

The weight of her text crashed down on you, extinguishing the fire that had been lit between you and Jax. You felt the immediate shift in your mood, the walls you’d been trying to keep at bay rising once more as reality flooded back in, cold and harsh.

“Everything okay?” Jax asked, his tone shifting from playful to concerned, the light in his eyes dimming slightly as he took a step back.

“Yeah, just… work,” you replied, forcing a smile. “Looks like we’re going to have a long night.”

A shadow of disappointment crossing his features. “Guess the joyride is over then,” he said, trying to keep his tone light, but you could sense the frustration in his posture.

You felt a pang of regret for what had almost happened between you, a moment that could have shifted everything. The chemistry that hung in the air was thick, the desire still radiating through you both, but the reminder of your responsibilities loomed large.

“Jax, I—” you began, but the words faltered on your lips. You felt the weight of responsibility, reminding you to keep your focus on the case, but the yearning in his gaze held you captive, making it nearly impossible to look away.

“Handle it,” he replied, his voice steady yet laced with an undertone of something softer—an understanding tinged with disappointment. “I’ll be here when you’re ready for another ride, Pep.” His hand brushed against your cheek, leaving a trail of heat that lingered softly. The gentle caress sparked a rush of emotions within you, evoking the depth of the connection you shared.

His words carried a double meaning that made your stomach flip-flop. You turned away, feeling the heaviness in your chest swell. The exhilaration of the ride and the tantalizing near-kiss lingered, but now they felt like fading echoes, drowned out by the harsh reality of the battle looming ahead. The bond you shared with Jax was enthralling, yet the stakes of his defense demanded your undivided attention, pulling you back into the relentless world of law where every decision carried the weight of consequences.

You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to focus on the task at hand. The unresolved tension of what had just occurred lingered in the air, heavy with potential and yearning for a resolution.

[inawickedlittletown]

Don't Make A Shadow Of Yourself - (BuckTommy fic) - 1/?

Summary: "A man who's pure of heart...may still become a wolf when the autumn moon is bright" - Howl (F+TM)

Throughout most of his adult life, Tommy had dealt with what he was. The duality of being a man and also an animal…a beast. Werewolves weren’t born, they were made. 

Words: 3,769

Read on Ao3

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Chapter One

If there was one thing that Tommy appreciated, it was superstition. First responders wouldn’t seem like the types to believe in things like that, but walk into any firehouse, police station, call center, or air operations base and use the Q word and you’d find out pretty quickly how serious some people took certain things. Even the skeptics tended to just respect such things. So, no one cared that Tommy took every single full moon off, they just poked fun whenever someone that didn’t already know discovered the pattern and Tommy could handle that easily. Far easier than anyone actually wanting to know exactly why Tommy needed to be off on the nights when the moon was big and whole and more magical than on any other night. 

The moon was magical, or at least, it felt that way to Tommy. It wasn’t how he’d felt his whole life, granted, but he’d come to find the magic. He didn’t hate it, like he knew some Werewolves did. Instead, he was awed by it and the power that it held over Tommy. After all, Tommy was, like all Werewolves, cursed to turn at the full moon and stay that way until sunrise. At any other time, he could turn at will, but a full moon meant that Tommy had no control over that and resisting just meant a boatload of pain. 

Throughout most of his adult life, Tommy had dealt with what he was. The duality of being a man and also an animal…a beast. Werewolves weren’t born, they were made. 

For Tommy it happened while he was in the Army. For all intents and purposes, it was also the thing that got him discharged, though no one had ever put it like that to him or for that matter on the paperwork. What he did know was that after the attack and the bite that changed everything, he had a visit in the infirmary from representatives from the United States Werewolf Division. 

That visit ended with him leaving the Army before the end of his contract. Some reason was given and the plan that Tommy had been hoping to follow had fallen apart. 

He was told what the bite entailed, and then given very little option but to go along with them even when Tommy didn’t believe a word they said to him. A part of him had even believed his pain meds were making him hallucinate. That was not the case. 

As it turned out, Werewolves weren’t uncommon. They also weren’t wild beasts intent on killing people, they were just a part of the world and yes they did have to change at every full moon and no the howling at the moon part wasn’t required.

He spent the time he was in recovery trying to figure out what kind of elaborate prank was being played on him, that is until things started to get strange. His senses were going haywire. His nails felt sharper. His skin itched. The morning he woke up with a furry paw for a hand was the day that Tommy finally believed what they were telling him. 

That first full moon was the hardest. He was taken to a reinforced steel room with literally nothing in it but him. When night hit, Tommy screamed as his skin seemed to stretch and tear while his bones were breaking and putting themselves back together. It was agony. Tommy was sure he’d passed out more than once because he was going in and out of consciousness. By the end, he was left a wolf. Bigger than a regular wolf, but still a wolf. More precisely, a Werewolf.    

After that, Tommy was free to live his life. He was given an honorable discharge and as much as he hated it, Tommy understood why. It was too risky for him to stay and there was no such thing as Werewolf leave so he could bunker down every full moon. Nor did anyone want to deal with the possibility that he might bite someone and either turn them or hurt them. 

So, two months after the attack — the first month of which was spent in recovery from the bite — the Werewolf Division felt he was ready to get back to civilian life. 

“Don’t tell anyone you don’t trust. Always find somewhere safe to be on the full moon. Check in with the local Werewolf Division at least every six months,” the official looking woman didn’t even look at him directly, her eyes trained instead on her list. 

Tommy agreed to all of it, he signed all the paperwork, and then he had a hell of a whole lot else to figure out. But he was nothing if not resilient. It was how he wound up at the Fire Academy despite the Werewolf Division trying to convince him otherwise. In the end, they couldn’t stop him. Instead, they supported him and even found legitimate reasons for him to miss work during full moons while he was a probie and expected to be available at all times. 

The first year was the hardest. He was a probie, for one thing, and for another he was a Werewolf. Tommy found the Werewolf Division in LA both useful in some respects but entirely pointless in others. They were who you called if you bit someone, or if you knew another Werewolf that had gone feral. They were a resource. They also had what they called Werewolf Support meetings and Tommy found that helpful for about five minutes and he never went back again. 

The thing about it was that, once you got used to it, shifting form didn’t hurt. It felt nice, even. It was freeing in a way that Tommy could have never imagined. Tommy had also gotten used to his senses. Even as a human they were intensified, but one of the first things he was taught was how to dial that down. 

The Werewolf Division encouraged every Werewolf to embrace who they were and to learn to live a life that balanced out the human and the animal. They had monthly forest runs and every full moon they offered space both indoors and outdoors for them to use. 

Tommy just never found any of it useful. He preferred going out on his own when he was too full of energy that only shifting to four legs could get it out. The first few full moons he spent at the Werewolf Division just to be safe. It didn’t take him long to just stay home and deal with them on his own. 

As soon as he was able to, he managed to move out of his shitty apartment to a house with a yard big enough for him to run around in. That was where he spent most full moons. 

Meanwhile, he found a place for himself as a firefighter even if it meant agreeing with Captain Gerard and his very backwards view of the world. Tommy had experience dealing with less than ideal superiors and at least he got along with the rest of the 118, not that he would have ever trusted any of them with his secret. 

Strangely, coming to terms with being a Werewolf was easier and faster than the other thing that made him different. His attraction to men and only men. Stranger still that the thing he could say outloud to everyone without coming off insane was the thing that gave him the most anxiety. So, he shared neither. 

It took years, long after Tommy had settled into being part human and part animal. After he met Howie and after Hen showed up to say “I’m here, I’m proud, and I’m not going anywhere” in a way that Tommy desperately wished he could as well. Even then, it wasn’t until he left the 118 behind that Tommy could finally breathe. 

He never outright told anyone. He just didn’t hide it and people made up their own conclusions. 

Tommy did continue to hide that he was a Werewolf and he allowed his co-workers to poke fun when they saw he wasn’t on the schedule for yet another full moon. The entire time, the only Werewolves he knew were the ones he encountered at the Werewolf Division. As far as he knew there weren’t any other first responder Werewolves, but Tommy could admit that as bad as his gaydar was, his wolfdar was worse. 

When his shift ended after what had been a day full of rope rescues, Tommy found himself changing out of the flight overalls. 

“See ya tomorrow, Kinard,” Garita, one of the newer aeromedics said, slapping his shoulder as he walked to the door. 

“No you won’t,” Mario threw in from his spot in front of his own locker. 

“Off,” Tommy confirmed. 

“Don’t you know our Tommy’s afraid of the full moon crazies,” Mario said, complete with a laugh. 

Tommy just shook his head. He gathered his things and he followed Garita out the door. 

“I mean, you’re not crazy for not wanting to work full moons,” Garita said and Tommy couldn’t tell if he was just being some type of indulgent. “People sure act strange. Have a good night, Tommy.” 

“Good night.” 

The moon was set clear in the dark blue sky. LA was not the most conductive place to look up at the sky. All the light pollution really did just leave the moon and occasionally the bright pinprick of a planet. It did look almost full, so close that it could be mistaken for full. Tommy knew better. 

No one explained why Werewolves had such a reaction to the moon. All Tommy had to go on was stories and since they didn’t get most things right, he didn’t expect that to be correct either. 

Getting back to his empty house made him want to leave it again almost at once. Sometimes he really did wish he had someone to come home to. Not even a significant other. A friend. Someone that was family. It was impossible, of course, but Tommy felt lonely. 

Tommy was absolutely sure that no one could describe coming out as easy. What Tommy found harder was accepting himself as gay, embracing the descriptor and the identity and acting on it. He didn’t have the best first experiences, not when he tried to jump right in without taking account for doing things the right way and with the right person. Tommy settled for what he could get — hookups and one night stands. Guys that flirted with him and took him to bed and then left or expected him to leave. 

Trying to find anything more serious was even more of a hassle. He just never seemed to find anyone that fit. The Werewolf thing became a bit of a problem for him with his love life. Tommy wasn’t ever told he couldn’t tell anyone what he was, it was just that he never met anyone he trusted enough to tell. It left a big wall between him and anyone he tried to seriously date. 

Realizing that, for the longest time he settled for one-night stands and small flings. Nothing serious. It had to be enough for him, no matter how much he was lying to himself in thinking that he was actually happy. He wasn’t. The few times Tommy thought that maybe he’d found someone he might tell, it ended before he got a chance to say anything. 

The day leading up to the full moon was always a day when Tommy felt antsy. He took a run around the block early in the morning, grabbed breakfast at his favorite cafe and even indulged in an almond danish. Then, he took care of all the chores he’d been putting off. Anything to kill the energy thrumming through him. 

Mid-afternoon found him outside shirtless but with shorts on. He waited until it was a bit darker before stepping out of his shorts. With the sun all but gone, the temperature had dropped and a breeze tickled his bare skin. 

Tommy stepped barefoot out onto the grass, feeling it squish under his toes. The transformation felt like a whole body itch, but it all happened in less than a minute. It still blew Tommy’s mind how quick it was. He had never quite understood it from a physiological perspective. Then again, he’d never understood how it was possible for Werewolves to exist and no one, not even anyone at the Werewolf Division could answer. 

Tommy shook himself, almost like a wet dog might after a bath, except he wasn’t wet. His limbs felt so different as a wolf, as did the perspective of being on all fours. Tommy was a tall guy and down on all fours, despite how big of a wolf he was, he saw things entirely different. His eyesight was better too, more suited for nighttime. 

Walking forward, he dropped into a stretch — downward dog. His head was down close to the grass and his front legs while his bottom, tail included, was in the air. The tail had kind of freaked him out the first time he realized he could wag it. Holding the pose for a short moment, he pushed back and then he leaped into a run. His claws dug into the grass and dirt and it felt amazing as they pushed him into leaps and bounds. 

When asked why he’d purchased his house, Tommy always talked about the attached two car garage big enough for a car lift, because the house itself was kind of small. Big enough for one, which was a bit of a depressing thought. It did make up for it in land. The backyard was huge. He could have fit two more of his house on it and still had room for a garden. The previous owner had even had municipal permission to dig up a pool, but Tommy didn’t need that. 

Tommy ran the perimeter of the tree fence he’d planted for privacy. He sniffed at the air and threw his head back to look at the moon. He didn’t howl at it. 

When he got tired of running, he returned to the small patio at the back of the house. His outdoor furniture would never hold him as a wolf, but he had an oversized dog bed and that was where he headed, curling himself on it and relaxing into the wolf mind. He didn’t allow himself to think about wanting someone to spend full moons with, or how if he went to the Werewolf Division for the wolf runs he could at least have company. 

He was probably the most boring Werewolf in LA. It was something that Tommy thought about often. He didn’t think he was wrong. He ran around a bit more, the pads of his paws lightly touching the grass and sinking into hard soil. Eventually, he flopped down on his stomach and rolled to his side. 

The next morning, he awoke still a wolf. He wasn’t on the bed, but instead in the middle of his yard on the grass. The morning was cold and the grass was covered in dew. He lingered where he sat until he started to get hungry. He was always hungry the day after a full moon due to all the energy spent in the transformation. 

Transforming back to human was as easy as the transformation into a wolf. He did come out of it a lot dirtier. Glad for a shift that didn’t start until late afternoon, he lingered in his shower for longer than usual and took his time dressing before he made breakfast. It always took a while to get back to normal after so many hours spent as a wolf, but as soon as he sat down with his scrambled eggs, toast, and bacon, Tommy started to feel more himself. 

He expected a bit of teasing when he got to work and he wasn’t disappointed. It was Percy and Mario going at him with Garita still too unsure where he fit into the dynamic. 

“I just didn’t peg you for superstitious,” Mario said. 

“I do own a rabbit’s foot,” Tommy pointed out. 

Mario rolled his eyes. “Let it be known, Garita, that if you ever get him for Secret Santa, you’re better off not trying to give him a gag gift. He’ll embrace it fully no matter how embarrassing.” 

“He’s exaggerating,” Tommy said.

It was one of their less busy nights. Tommy should have known it was exactly because of that, that things would change. 

It started with a call.  

Howie Han flashed on his phone. 

“Gotta get this,” he said and excused himself. “Hey, Chim, what’s up?” 

“Gonna need your help, Tommy,” Chim said, sounding serious. 

Before he knew it, he was flying a helicopter out into a hurricane as a favor to Chim and on Hen’s hunch alone. He had no way of knowing how that would change his entire world. 

Tommy didn’t even give the two firefighters Chim brought with him too much mind after introductions, at least not until they were in the air and they all started bickering with each other. That gave him a small bit of insight as to the dynamics, but also it kinda cut at him. He was an outsider looking into this family and it was everything he’d always wanted. The camaraderie, the friendship, the way they were putting their jobs and their lives on the line to save one of their own even when there was clearly some tension between them. 

They were a pack; family. 

The Werewolf Division warned about isolation, about becoming a lone wolf. It wasn’t a short road to going feral, but it certainly didn’t help. It was why they tried their best to bring Werewolves together so often, so that they could find friendship among each other and maybe even form a pack. Tommy had never quite managed more than a few acquaintances. 

In some ways, he had the crew at Harbor, but it just wasn’t quite what the 118 clearly had — what they had become after his transfer. Listening to them over the open channel, Tommy kept silent and he hated himself a little for bringing the mood down by reminding them that they were flying into a hurricane. 

He was a good pilot. Excellent, really. It still didn’t change that he couldn’t control the wind or the rain or even the amount of fuel they had and how that cut into the amount of time they actually had to search. When they finally saw it and he brought them down on the belly of the capsized cruise ship, it almost felt like they could all breathe again. Tommy felt relieved even as the worry for what they might find slowly overtook them. 

He was impressed by the way Hen took over, and he couldn’t help but think about Hen the probie. She’d been bullied and pushed around and treated so badly and still she had fought for the place she earned. 

It was morning by the time Tommy flew back to the coast guard ship for the last time. The skies were blue and clear, almost like a hurricane hadn’t just gone through. It was crazy how nature worked and how quickly something could just clear up leaving a bright new day. Evan wound up up front with him. He looked tired, but happy. Tommy gave himself a moment to look at him. 

Evan was attractive. He was the usual build of a firefighter, strong and sturdy. He had a boyish quality to him, though, and it seemed that with the danger over he was allowing himself to enjoy the flight and the view of the water. His blue eyes were almost the color of the water and a pink mark that had to be a birthmark sat over one eyebrow. Tommy thought it made him that much more attractive. Evan was captivating. Tommy also knew he had absolutely no chance there. Still, it was nice to look. 

“You know,” Evan said, “they say the ocean is the Earth’s heart.” 

“And here I was expecting some fact about the Titanic,” Eddie said.

Evan turned to look behind him and Tommy got the sense that Evan was taking Eddie’s comment on as a challenge. 

“The ship that answered the mayday call, the Carpathia was 58 nautical miles away and answered the call to help anyway. Her Captain did the impossible. Made the ship go as fast as possible for a steam ship of her size and prepared for survivors. That ship, its Captain, the crew, and even the passengers all did everything they could to get there fast and to take in anyone in need of aid. There was another ship. The Californian. They were closer, close enough to see the Titanic even. They did not act. Arriving after the Carpathia when it was already too late.”

Tommy didn’t know what to be. Impressed, sure. A little amused. He was even…well, why did he find Evan even more attractive? 

“That’s interesting,” Tommy said. 

“It’s the difference between a Captain who wouldn’t have been able to live with himself if he knew that he did nothing in light of that distress call even if he found no survivors and one that turned off the wireless overnight and that despite seeing rockets decided to wait instead of offering assistance,” Evan said. 

“I guess that’s kinda fitting,” Eddie said. 

Tommy saw Evan smile. 

Once they were on the coast guard ship, he got to watch alongside Eddie and Evan as Bobby reunited with Athena. There was no mistaking the relief and the love felt there. He was surprised at his own relief and how happy it felt to have been a part of the rescue. He watched them embrace and felt that pang of the thing still missing in his life. Tommy wanted a partner. He wanted to love and be loved in return. It felt like something so little and yet so large to long for. 

Tommy wasn’t prepared when a hand landed on his shoulder, but he turned to share a smile because they had gone through the whole thing together and they were on the other side. 

When Tommy looked at Evan, he found an easy and pretty smile. Blue eyes that squinted in the sun. It was truly unfair how gorgeous he was. Evan’s smile dropped away a moment later and he swallowed nervously. Tommy could only watch him. Nothing could have prepared him. 

“How, uh, how long have you been a Werewolf?” 

[writingplotbunnies]

Best Served Cold (7/?)

Pairing: Jax Teller x OFC

Summary: Sophie learns not all consequences are bad as SAMCRO embraces her after she saved Gemma.

Word Count: ~3900

Warnings: angst, illegal activity, possessive behavior, sexual content, canon typical violence

“My car?” Sophie asked as they walked into St. Thomas. 

Jax laughed. “Sent Sack for it. It’s safe and waiting for you at TM.”

“I know it’s silly given everything else.”

“Nah,” Jax said, smile in his voice as he wrapped his arm around her waist. “It’s normal, and I know how you feel about that car.” 

Walking down the hallway, she saw a mass of leather-clad bikers. For a moment, the walls contracted around her. She’d been down a hallway like this, seen bikers loitering in the halls like this. That time, she’d been too late. That time, she’d allowed harm to come to her family. Blinking back tears, she forced herself to be in the present, to remind herself that everyone was fine. Then all she saw was leather because each biker took turns pulling her into a massive hug. 

“So glad you’re alright,” Chibs told her.

Tig held her face gently in his hand, turned it left and right, brows knit in confusion. “Thought she shot you?” 

“Nah,” Jax said as he wrapped his arms around her from behind, chin resting on the top of her head. “Soph shot the bitch in the shoulder. The other shot went wide.” 

Tig’s whole face lit with a smile. “You ever get tired of Jax, sweetheart, I’ll let you make an honest man out of me.” 

Sophie snorted. “I don’t know that anyone could make an honest man out of you, and I like you too much to insult you by trying.” 

Smile still on his face, Tig ruffled her hair before moving back. 

“She here?”

Sophie glanced up, saw Clay walking towards her. She’d never seen him look so serious, and she gulped at the intensity of his gaze. 

“Clay - ”

“Not now, Jackson.” 

Sophie moved herself from Jax’s arms, thankful he didn’t fight her on it too much and faced the SAMCRO president head-on. When Clay’s arms wrapped around her, she felt the whole atmosphere change. She hadn’t known what to expect from the man, but, when she felt a few tears escape his eyes to land on her neck, she understood. Whatever else these men were, they, like her, loved their families. 

“Thank you,” he whispered against her skin. “I don’t know what I would have done if - ” 

Sophie nodded. She understood far more than he knew. No one deserved the fate that might have awaited Gemma tonight. The fate that Olivia had faced. 

Clay pulled back, rested his hands on her shoulders. “Whatever you need, Sophie. Anything. You say the word, and I’m there.” 

Sophie smiled up at him, tears pricking her eyes. “Thanks. I’m just glad I was there to help her.” 

Clay nodded. “Gemma wants to see you.” 

She followed him down the hall to Gemma’s room. She smiled up at Sophie when they walked in. No bruises on her face, no cuts, no vacant expression. No tears. Something warm nestled in Sophie’s chest as she stared at Gemma.  

“Can you give us a minute, baby?” she asked Clay. 

“Sure thing. I’ll be outside when you’re done.” 

Sophie nodded, waited until Clay left before crossing over to where Gemma lay in the bed. Nearly collapsing into the chair at her bedside, Sophie managed to get a grip on Gemma’s hand before her face fell forward and the tears streamed freely down her face. For once, Gemma didn’t say anything, didn’t ask her any questions, but she could feel them in the air above them. Instead, Gemma carded her fingers through Sophie’s hair, which only made her cry harder because Gemma was the one hurt - alive, but hurt and here she was the one getting taken care of. 

“It’s okay, baby, let it out.” 

After a few more minutes of crying, Sophie lifted her head, wiped the tears from her cheeks and smiled at Gemma. 

“How are you feeling?”

Gemma gave her a wry smile. “Like I got hit in the back of the head.” 

The response startled a laugh out of Sophie. “I’m so glad it’s not worse.” 

“Thanks to you.” Gemma paused, settled back against the blankets. “Whatever it was that brought you to Charming has something to do with what almost happened to me tonight. Trust is a fragile thing. Which is why I’m not going to ask today. SAMCRO takes care of its own.” 

“I’m not SAMCRO.”

Gemma smiled indulgently at her. “You are now, sweetheart.” 

Sophie frowned. “The way you say that, you make it sound almost like a threat.” 

“No, baby,” Gemma said, voice soft. “Not a threat. Even if it was, wouldn't work on you. It’s a good thing. Those men out there - ” Gemma gestured towards the door. “They protect their family, just like you. Tonight, you became part of that family. That’s what SAMCRO is.” 

How did she tell Gemma that she didn’t deserve it? How could she possibly explain her guilt? Each time she closed her eyes she saw Olivia’s lifeless body lying in that hospital bed. 

“One day, Sophie, you’ll trust us enough to let us help you. Whatever you need, whatever trouble you’re in - you’re not alone anymore.”

Not knowing what to say, Sophie stood from the chair. She fiddled with Gemma’s blanket, fluffed her pillow. “You should get some rest.” 

Gemma looked at her with a mix of understanding and disappointment in her eyes. “You too, baby.” 

This fucking town and its nicknames. Sophie wasn’t sure she was ready to take on another family. She hadn’t managed to keep her last one whole. Shutting the door behind her, Sophie closed her eyes, leaned back against it and took a deep breath. 

“You okay, babe?”

Jax’s head was ducked, shoulders rolled forward, hands shoved in his pockets so he could look up at her, find her eyes. As unthreatening a posture as he knew. She nodded. Allowed him to pull her into his chest. Breathing in the smell of him, the leather and cigarettes, she found some balance. All the bullshit with Zobelle aside, she liked Charming. Enjoyed being around the guys. Loved the way Jax always needed to be touching her in some way - as though to remind himself (and her) that they were connected. Maybe she didn’t deserve another family, but that didn’t prevent her from wanting one. Hope they’d accept the tattered pieces of herself - it was the best she could do. If she had any luck left, they might forgive her when they learned the whole truth. 

Sophie leaned back, smiled weakly up at Jax. “I’m gonna go grab a cup of coffee. I’ll be back.” 

“I’ll come with you,” Jax said, falling into step with her. 

She pressed her hand to his chest. “I need a minute to myself. I haven’t had a minute alone since it happened, and while I adore you all for looking after me, I just need a second to breathe without someone there to see.” 

Jax didn’t look pleased, but he nodded. “Okay.” 

Before he could walk away, she grabbed his sleeve, turned him to face her and kissed him. Sinking her fingers into his hair, she held him against her as her tongue danced with his. Every nerve ending in her body erupted in sparks as his arms closed around her, his hands smoothing down her spine. Pulling back a bit, she breathed heavily against him. 

“I - ”

“Go get your coffee. I’ll be here.” 

She nodded, moved slowly from his embrace and walked down the hallway, the heat of his gaze never leaving. It took a couple of minutes, a few wrong turns, before she found a coffee machine, and when she walked up to it, she realized she didn’t have her wallet with her. Everything had been in her car. She shook her head. 

“Shit.” 

“Allow me.” 

Spinning around at the voice, she felt her heart nearly leap out of her chest. Ethan Zobelle stood in front of her. He wore a pleasant smile on his face, but the darkness in his eyes revealed his true nature. In his hand, he held a five-dollar bill. Hand trembling ever so slightly, she took it from him with a mumbled thanks. 

“It’s the least I can do for the woman who spared my daughter’s life tonight.” 

Blood turned to ice in her veins. Nothing could have prepared her to stand face-to-face with the man who murdered her sister. The scene featured heavily in her nightmares. On instinct, she reached for her gun, cursing as she remembered she didn’t have it. Police evidence. 

He held his hands out, palms forward. “I mean you no harm, Miss Cooper. It’s why I didn’t press charges. I saw no reason to make a bad night worse for everyone. And, to your credit, you are a remarkable shot. According to the surgeon, she’ll regain full range of motion.” 

“I know.”

She bit the words out without thinking. Zobelle offered her one of those condescending paternal smiles that men gave to women when they thought they’d done something particularly adorable. 

“I’m sure you knew exactly what you were doing tonight, and while I can’t figure out what stayed your hand, I won’t stand here and pretend I’m not grateful.” 

“Consider it a gesture of good faith,” Sophie offered. “Leave SAMCRO alone. Set up your white hate cigar shop in a different town.” 

His eyes turned down, faux sorrow on his face. “I’m afraid I can’t do that. I have business interests to protect here in Charming. I did extend my friendship to SAMCRO, but they were…unreceptive. ” 

Sophie nodded. It had been worth a try. Not that it would have kept him alive, but it would have gotten him out of Charming, away from SAMCRO. “In that case, Mr. Zobelle, if you’re determined to remain, you should consider why I allowed your daughter to live. Contemplate the choices you might make that would lead me to choose less honorable actions moving forward.” 

She could see the way his eyes had narrowed, the slight tension along his shoulders. Poking the bear might not be the smartest move, but she refused to stand there and make pleasantries. And since she couldn't shoot the bastard in the face, this would have to suffice. 

“Sophie,” she heard Chibs call as he came down the hallway. “There you are, lass.”

Coming to a stop at Sophie’s shoulder, Chibs eyed Zobelle, took a more protective stance in front of her. Part of the family indeed. She put a hand on his shoulder. “Sorry. I got caught up in conversation.”

“Aye. We’ve met.” 

Sophie cursed silently. She had hoped the overtures Zobelle had made hadn’t been in front of the whole club, but it seemed that her worlds had well and truly collided. Her new family was now caught up in the ashes of her old one. It wasn’t that she didn’t want any help, it was that she doubted they would be willing to provide her the help she wanted. She figured they’d take over, kill Zobelle themselves, and expect a thank you for their trouble. No part of her was going to allow that to happen. 

“Enjoy the coffee,” Ethan said as he inclined his head. 

Neither said anything as they both watched Ethan walk down the hallway, before turning a corner, disappearing from sight. Her shoulders slumped once she could no longer see him. 

“You alright?” 

“No,” Sophie said, too tired to lie. She could feel small spasms in her limbs as the adrenaline began to fade. The symptoms were familiar to her, and she hoped she could keep it together long enough to make it home to a nice warm shower. 

“Come on,” Chibs said, frown on his face as he tucked her close to his body. “Let’s get you back to Jax so he can fuss about you.” 

“I don’t need Jax fussing over me. Zobelle didn’t do anything.” 

“He upset you.” 

She rolled her eyes. Of course, the whole group still stood in the hallway, Tig, Jax - even Clay standing as she and Chibs came closer. She could read the concern in their eyes. 

“What happened?” Clay asked, eyes flinty. 

“Zobelle cornered her at the vending machines.” 

“That’s it.” Jax clenched his hands into fists, turned on his heel. 

Sophie reached out, just managed to grab the sleeve of his flannel shirt. Tugging him to face her, she placed both hands on his arms and forced him to meet her gaze. She couldn’t have him going off after the man. Not like this. Sophie refused to have another man in her life behind bars because of fucking Ethan Zobelle. 

“I’m fine. He didn’t do anything. Gave me five bucks for a coffee and thanked me for not shooting his bitch of a daughter in the fucking face. Now, I’m tired and you’re going to take me home so that I can have a nice hot shower.”  

She watched Jax’s jaw clench, saw how wound up he was about the whole thing, and she didn’t blame him. Understood how he felt. Enjoyed that he felt that upset because of what happened to her. Made something warm bloom in her chest. None of that changed her mind about how things with Zobelle would go down. 

Moving in close to him, sliding her hands up his arms, up to his neck so she could sink her fingers into his hair, she whispered against his lips. “I’ll let you wash my back.” 

Behind her the boys chuckled, a few offered a low whistle. Clay clapped Jax on the shoulder, a knowing sort of amusement in his eyes. No doubt Gemma used similar tactics to keep him in line, to get her own way. It was a dirty trick, but she would use whatever she needed to - a win was a win. 

“Take your Old Lady home, son,” Clay told him. “We’ll finish this at church tomorrow.” 

She mouthed a thank you to Clay who inclined his head. Following Jax down the hall, she knew he still wanted to go after Zobelle. His silence told her all she needed to know about how he felt about it. Sliding onto the bike, she held herself back a bit. She understood that he was upset, but she wasn’t just going to let him go do something stupid. When they pulled into TM, Sophie got off the bike and glanced around for her car. Locating it near the far side, she strode towards it. The shower idea hadn’t just been a ploy to get Jax to leave the hospital. She wanted one, and her shitty little rental house had one with decent water pressure. 

“Where the hell are you going?” 

She turned to glare at him. “Home.” 

Jax’s jaw clenched. “No, you’re not.” 

“Jax - ”

“He went after my mother. She shot you,” Jax spat out, eyes dark with fury. 

Ah. Sophie smiled softly. He was scared about what could have happened tonight. Closing the distance between them, she wrapped her arms around him, felt his own lock tightly around her. 

“I’m here,” she soothed. “She was a terrible shot.” 

Jax chuckled against her neck as he pulled back, his hands palmed her face, thumbs tracing along her cheeks. She covered his hands with hers, moved her face to press a kiss to the palm of his hand. 

“Clay called me your Old Lady. You gonna explain that to me?” 

Jax smirked. “Why you wanna know?” 

“Like I told your mom, seems to be a hierarchy around here. That douche canoe called me a croweater, which next person to call me one gets a bullet between the eyes because I know how the word whore sounds no matter what letters are used.” 

“You’re no croweater, babe,” Jax said as his hands moved down her body. He got a solid grip on her ass and hauled her up his body. Getting the idea, Sophie helped and wrapped her legs around his waist. Laughing as he carried her into the clubhouse. Looking around at the familiar mess that was his room, she laughed even harder. 

“Old Lady better not mean housekeeper because, between the two of us, it would become uninhabitable.” 

“Yeah?” Jax asked, smirk on his face. “Thought the Corps was all about hospital corners and snap inspections.” 

Sophie returned his smirk with one of her own. “I’m retired. No one gives two shits how your bed looks when you’re in the field. Plus, never was much good at keeping things tidy when I was on leave. It was one of the ways I disengaged. Clutter meant I was home.” 

He kissed her then. Slow, tender. The type of kiss that ruined people. Made them think about fantasy endings, a happily ever after. Sophie lost herself to it. She moved her arms up when Jax lifted her shirt. Moaned when his lips traced over her collarbones, the valley of her breasts. Goosebumps erupted on her arms as he slid her bra straps down her arms before tossing it over his shoulder. 

“What are you doing?” she whispered, smile in her voice. 

“Washing your back.” 

He continued to press open-mouthed kisses to her body as he unbuttoned her jeans. Pulling them down her legs he cursed when they caught at her ankles. Boots; they’d both forgotten. 

“Get on with it,” Sophie said with an imperious wave of her hand. “You’re not washing my back fully clothed.” 

She intended to pull her boots off. Honest. But, when Jax pulled his shirt over his head, she couldn’t help but stare. Knew her mouth hung open, knew she licked her lips in an obscene way. God, she wanted to lick every inch of his body, rub herself against him. Given the smirk tucked into the corner of his mouth as he winked at her, he seemed amenable to the idea. Unlike her boots which required the use of her hands, he simply toed off his ridiculous white shoes before pulling down his jeans. 

“My eyes are up here, babe.” 

Sophie nodded without looking away from his body. “I know where your eyes are. I’ll get there.” 

Chuckling, he pulled his boxers down his hips, allowed gravity to do the rest and Sophie let out a low whistle of her own. Now she really wanted to lick all of him. Half hard and hanging to the left, his cock fit the rest of him. When her eyes did trail back up to meet his, he simply raised his brows at her. Getting the hint, Sophie leaned down and unzipped her boots before shimming out of her jeans. Standing, she reached for her panties only for Jax’s hands to stop her. When he’d moved she didn’t know, but the heat from his body rolled into her as his fingers teased along the band of her panties. Hooking his fingers in, he tugged them down. They stood there for a moment. 

Jax stepped back first, running a hand through his hair before moving into the ensuite and starting the shower. Sophie took a deep breath before following him. Noting the SOA tattoo on his back, she licked her lips again. Gently, she reached out and trailed a finger along the edge of the reaper’s blade, loving the way Jax shivered under her touch. 

When the water temperature met Jax’s standards, he held the curtain back so Sophie could step in. Perfectly warm water cascaded down her body. Closing her eyes, she turned her face up to allow the spray to wash across her skin, pull the grime and the sorrow from her face and wash down the drain. 

“Nice ink,” Jax whispered against her ear as he plastered his torso to her back. 

“Thanks.” 

She felt his fingers trace along the rose petals inked into her skin. On each side, she had a black and grey rose with pink rose pedals floating up in parallel lines along her back. He pressed kisses along her shoulders before nipping her ear. His now soapy hands began to trace along her body in strong, sure strokes. She moaned as his hands moved around her stomach, up to cup her breasts, fingers teasing her nipples - making sure every inch of her body was covered in soap. As sensual as it was, she felt her muscles relaxing the more his hands moved over her skin. Even knowing she was wet enough he could slide in with no resistance, something about the moment indicated that he wouldn’t. He was taking care of her, and that realization nearly had her knees give out. 

“I got you, babe,” Jax whispered, hand gripping her hip. “If you’re gonna be my Old Lady, it’s my job to take care of you.” 

He pressed a kiss to the top of her spine. “If you’re gonna be my Old Lady, there’s only two ways it works. I tell you nothing, or I tell you everything. Can’t be any in between.” 

Sophie fought the urge to stiffen at the vague accusation in his tone. He continued to press kisses to her skin, so maybe she’d imagined it. Still, the knowledge of what she held back from Jax pressed against her. Gemma’s words from earlier floating back to her trust is a fragile thing. What would trusting Jax cost her? As secrets went, hers wasn’t really a secret. It’d been in the paper, well, a version of events had been. The court proceedings had been public record.

Her need to be the one to see the light leave Zobelle’s face kept her silent. She barely knew Jax. Knew he had secrets that could have far-reaching consequences - no outlaw biker had safe or insignificant secrets. Placing trust in the wrong person meant people died, and Sophie knew that firsthand, too. Too many engagements had gone sideways because the wrong person had said the wrong thing at the wrong time. 

Sophie reached forward and turned the water off. Jax got out of the shower and held a towel out for her, allowing him to wrap it around her body before he quickly dried himself off. Not even him wearing nothing but a towel tied around his waist distracted her from the dark, heavy place her thoughts had taken her. When Jax pulled one of his shirts over her head, she offered him a small smile. She might never buy clothes again. 

“I only have one real secret, well, one I’m not sure I want to tell you,” Sophie whispered.

Jax cupped Sophie’s face. “Trust don’t happen overnight, I want this thing between us to work, want you on the back of my bike, wanna see my crow on your skin. That only happens if we trust each other.” 

Sophie searched his eyes. He meant each word he said, and she wanted the same things. Times like this made her miss Olivia all the more because she’d know exactly what to say. But, nothing ever got accomplished by running away from it, from hiding. As she stood there staring at him, she realized something. She wanted him. She wanted the messy group of bikers who hovered and cursed and did bad, bad things. Olivia had tried describing it to her, but she hadn’t understood it all, not really, not like she did now standing in Jax’s shirt in the SAMCRO clubhouse. Since retiring, she missed her team. Missed having the camaraderie, the mutual respect and understanding. Jax deserved the opportunity to earn her trust, so show her that he respected her. Taking a deep breath, she nodded. 

“My sister, Olivia, she married into an MC. Michael was the Sergent at Arms for the War Boys before Ethan Zobelle came into town. Now Olivia is dead and there’s no more War Boys MC in San Bernardino.”

Part 8

Master List

[shyanddreamy]

You can't save everyone

Happy Lowman x Reader | Part 3

Being in Charming again was strange, but above all it was scary. You had been out of the city for about five weeks, and now you were afraid that they hadn’t missed you or that they didn’t want you back. But it was too late to back out.

“Are you ready?”, Creeper asked you, rubbing your back tenderly.

As you didn’t have a car, Neron had offered to drive you to Charming. He was wearing a jacket over his kutt because it wasn’t a good idea for a Mayan to be seen in SOA’s territory without giving them a call first. For this reason, he had stopped his bike a few blocks from the Teller-Morrow workshop.

“I am”, you answered. “Thanks for taking me here. And for everything else.”

“It’s been my pleasure.”

The reality was that you were going to miss him, which wasn’t appropriate to say out loud or it could lead to misunderstandings.

“May we meet again”, you added instead. “And call if you ever need a hand. Even if it’s just to talk.”

“I’ll do”, he nodded. “The same goes for you, love.”

“Okay. I’ll do it too.”

Creeper was the kind of man who always looked after his people. And even though it was a goodbye for now, you already were one of his own.

With nothing more to say, you gave him a heart-felt hug which he did not hesitate to reciprocate. No words were necessary, so after a last smile, he took his bike and drove back to Santo Padre. Once you were alone, you took a deep breath and started walking down the street with a clear destination.

It was getting dark by the time you arrived at the TM, which was already close. However, their bikes were there, so you assumed they´ll be inside the clubhouse. Your heart beat so fast you thought it would explode. And for better or worse, one of the Sons had already seen you as he was sitting outside on the wooden table.

“Look at who we have here!”, Tig exclaimed. Both of you walked towards each other until he was able to welcome you with an embrace. “When have you come back? Come in, boys will love to see you.”

You didn’t have time to talk or even think again about whether this was a good idea or not because Tig guided you directly to the entrance. And his arm was still around your shoulders when you crossed the door, so you couldn’t run away.

“I have found a lost bunny outside, brothers”, was Tig’s way of announcing your return. And while you were telling him not to call you that, the rest of the boys came to give you a warm welcome.

For a few minutes, it was all hugs, questions about how you were doing, and sentences assuring you that they had missed you and were glad you were back. The situation changed when you caught Happy’s eyes on you. Even his brothers understood they should give you some space, so they went to the bar counter to take some beers. Only then, Happy slowly walked towards you, leaving half a metre between the two of you.

“Hey”, you said.

“Hey”, he responded.

Suddenly, you felt the atmosphere colder and a stronger stomach ache due to nerves. Anyway, nothing could change the excitement you were feeling for seeing him again.

“I’ve missed you.”

Happy tensed his jaw and, for a moment, you thought he was going to kick you out. Instead, he put one arm around your back to keep you close and rested his head on your shoulder regardless of the height difference between you. He wasn’t hugging you, it was more like he was looking for some kind of comfort from you. Like a child who has been hurt.

“Cut the bullshit you two and came with us to celebrate Y/N is back home”, Chibs said, which was enough for Happy to give you back your personal space.

“You just want an excuse to get drunk”, you responded while following Happy’s steps to the bar counter.

“Don’t see the problem in there, love”, he added.

A few hours went by while you were drinking and catching up. They told you some anecdotes from these days that you missed out on, and you answered their questions and told them some things about Santo Padre, the city and his people. You tried not to mention Creeper’s name just in case as you focused on telling them more amusing stories. One of the few times you mentioned Mayans was to make fun of the fact that they thought at first you might be some kind of spy.

With the intention of breath some fresh air after the heat you had experienced in Santo Padre, you went outside to smoke a cigarette. However, the person who decided to join you at the wooden table kind of surprised you.

“Tired already?”, Chibs asked you while lighting his own cigarette.

“A little bit”, you responded. “It’s been a long day.”

“Will you go home?”

“Where else?”

“Just asking”, he added, shrugging his shoulders.

“I know you have noticed that something’s going on between Happy and me”, you said. “He has barely spoken to me. That makes it pretty obvious.”

“He has barely spoken, but he didn’t take his eyes off you for a single moment”, Chibs pointed out.

“Yeah, I know.”

He took a long drag on his cigarette and slowly released the smoke before continuing to speak:

“When you left, he lost his head, Y/N. He banged all the croweaters he could at first and started drinking more than usual.”

It wasn’t nice to hear the great number of chicks in which Happy had had his dick in, but you couldn’t reproach him for anything. Not after what you had done with Creeper adding the fact that you weren’t exclusive at all.

“But then everything got weirder”, he continued. “He pushed away every single hoe that tried to get into his pants. And he was in a bad mood most of the time. I mean, more than usual. He also started sleeping in the clubhouse some nights, alone, as if he didn’t want to go home.”

“What the fuck does it all mean?”, you asked him, slightly confused. After Chibs words, there were so many conjectures in your head that you needed someone to confirm or deny them.

“What the hell should I know? I’m not in his damn head, Y/N”, he answered back. “But I’m not blind or stupid. I understand why you left as well as I know how much Happy cares about you. So, put your shit together.”

“You are so rude, Pres, but I get your point.”

Chibs smirked and shook his head.

“I just want what’s best for y’all.”, he assured you before the door opening caught your attention. “I think is my time to go back inside.”

As Chibs walked towards the door, Happy walked towards you, so their paths crossed. You saw Chibs muttering something to Happy, but you couldn’t make out what it was. Moments later, it was just Happy and you out there looking at each other.

“I’m gonna go home”, he announced. “Wanna come?”

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

Happy just nodded in response, so you made your way to his bike. After he sat down on it, he offered his helmet to you.

“Thanks”, you muttered before taking a seat behind him. You had been away from him for so long that even this small distance made you nervous. In any case, you hugged him on the back, as you always did.

Your journey home was shorter than you expected. This could be because you would have liked to have more time before arriving at your destination, where you would have no excuse not to talk.

“I’ve never felt this way at home before”, you said due to both of you were in the middle of the living room looking at each other but without saying a single word.

“How?”

“Awkward.”

“Want to go?”, he asked you.

“No.”

“Want me to go?”

“No, of course not”, you assured him.

“So, what do you want?”

“Don't know. Talk, maybe?”, you suggested, slightly ironically.

“You should talk. You were the one who left.”

“But I left because you didn’t…”, you didn’t finish the sentence, but Happy frowned anyway.

“Because what?”, he growled.

It was time. If he wanted you to talk, you would tell him the raw truth.

“I left because I was hurt. Because seeing you banging randoms chicks under my nose was hurting me”, you said loud and clear. “I love you so fucking much that it hurts, Happy. But you have to tell me. You have to tell me that you don’t feel the same so I can move on.”

Your eyes were watery, but you didn’t shed a single tear. You have practiced this conversation in your head too many times and now you had to keep your composure. Crying would make nothing better.

“So, that’s why you’re here”, Happy pointed out. “You want to hear what you want and leave again.”

“It would be the most reasonable. But I want to move on, not to leave you.”, you acknowledged. “What I have realised is that being away from you is even more painful, Happy. And I would rather have a little of you than none at all, but I can’t keep waiting for something from you that will never come.”

After you stopped talking, Happy remained silent for a few minutes. You were thinking that he might be looking for the right words to reject you when he took something out of his kutt pocket and gave it to you. Frowning, you unfolded the folio to find something that made you frown even more.

“What’s this?”

“A hotel. Halfway between Santo Padre and Charming”, he briefly explained to you. “I booked a room. For us.”

“What? Why?”

“I told you. I thought the trip would be good for you. That some time alone would be good for us”, he added. “I didn’t expect you to stay at Santo Padre.”

“I had no fucking idea, Happy. How was I supposed to know? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You took your decision. I didn’t have to make up your mind for you.”

You were wordless. Of all the things you thought could happen, this wasn’t one of them. And for once in a long time, it was his turn to speak his truth.

“I’ve never had an Old Lady or any of that bullshit. I thought I'd never want it, but you are so fucking annoying”, he said, pretty mad. “You hurt me too abandoning me, but still all I could think was that I wish you were safe. And this house was so fucking lonely it sucked. So, I’m sorry if this’s not what you wanted to hear, but I fucking love you, Y/N. Call it how you want, I don’t care, but just don’t leave me again.”

Two tears had run down your cheeks at his confession. You had to take a deep breath before you could walk towards him, feeling your whole body shaking.

“I know I was wrong. It was wrong to try to push you away. To try to convince myself that it wasn’t something more”, he continued even though you were now inches away from him. “But I have no fucking idea what I’m doing. This is not like anything I’ve ever done before.”

You brought your hands to his face, gently cupping it as you gave him a soft smile.

“I’ve never thought I'd say that, but for once, stop talking, Happy.”

Happy pursed his lips, completely serious, and waited not knowing what for. Your heart ached again, but this time the reason was different. You left because you weren’t on the same page, when in fact you were.

“I didn’t have a fucking clue when I left Tacoma to come to Charming with you either. The only thing I did know was that I wanted to be with you”, you assured him. “That’s all that mattered then and that’s all that matter now.”

As soon as you finished the sentence, you kissed him, as you had wanted to do since you first saw him in the clubhouse. And when he felt your lips on his, he put his arms around you to reduce the distance between your bodies. The passion with which you kissed each other was high, but you both needed more.

You slipped your hands under his shirt and Happy quickly gave you a hand to get rid of his kutt and shirt. When you felt his warm skin under the palms of your hands, you bit his lower lip with desire.

“I’ve missed this so much”, you muttered, but the sound of your shirt being torn confused you for just a few seconds. “You had no need to do that!”

But all you could see was his mischievous smile.

“I do needed it. I’ve missed you too.”

From that moment onwards, you could no longer contain yourselves. Your clothes were scattered on the living room floor, and your lips would be swollen from so much passionate kissing. You had left wet kisses and bites all around Happy’s neck and his fingertips would probably be marked on your skin by then. You didn’t even waste time on going to a bedroom or, at least, to the sofa. Instead, Happy cornered you against the nearest wall and wrapped one of your legs around his waist. When he couldn’t wait any longer, he plunged himself down inside you and stayed like that for a few seconds.

“Shit. I’ve missed you so fucking much”, he panted.

As his movements became wilder, the only thing you could do was sink your nails in his back and his shoulders, moaning like you wanted the whole world to hear you. Happy knew everything about your body, but your body also reacted differently to him than to anyone else. Everything was better with him. And it wasn’t just your body, it was your mind and your heart too. Every single part of you was in sync with Happy. And in some moment, the three words you had never said before during sex escaped from your mouth.

“I love you.”

You had said those words to him many times. For instance, every time he went on a mission, because you cared so much about him and wanted him to be safe, but you’ve never said that when you were hooking up. It would have been out of place. But now, in that moment, those words meant all the things you couldn’t express any other way.

“Again. Say it again”, he growled.

“I love you. I love you so fucking much”, you repeated as it was a mantra while his thrusts got harder. “I love you more than my life. More than everything. And I’ll love you forever.”

With those words sounding close to his ear, accompanied by your moans, and burying his head on you neck, Happy got his release. You could tell by the way his muscles tensed and his fingers sank into your thigh and hip.

“Fuck. You’re gonna be the death of me.”

“It would be a sweet death at least”, you responded. “But now I really need to sit down. My legs are shaking so badly I don’t know if I’ll be able to stand on my own when you let me go.”

You went straight to the sofa and didn’t do a single thing except catch your breath. The only thing Happy moved from the sofa for was to get the packet of cigarettes out of his trouser pocket. And as he lit his, he did the same with yours.

“It’s been quicker than usual”, you pointed out.

“Fuck you. It’s been a while”, he defended himself. “Besides, I've all night to fuck you until you beg me to stop.”

“Sounds tempting”, you nodded while biting you lower lip. “But I'd like some timeout. Do you want a beer?”

“Please.”

You spent some time talking calmly about the last few weeks you had been apart. You spoke of trivial things, but also of cloying ones, such as the times when you had been on the verge of calling the other to talk for at least a few minutes. You had to mention that you had spent a few nights with one of the Mayans from Santo Padre, but without explicitly saying that you had been fucking. However, Happy wasn’t the right person to blame you for anything either. Instead, you told him that Creeper had helped you find a decent room in a considerably better motel, and that he had given you a couple of recommendations for nice places to go and places to avoid. After the talk, you went to Happy’s room this time, and once there you took your time to give each other a few more orgasms. Maybe with that pace you could make up for the lost weeks. Having finished such and intense and exhausting activity, you could easily have fallen asleep if it wasn’t for the fact that, odd as it may seem, Happy still wanted to talk.

“You know how this life is. The danger. Why do you still want to be with me?”

“During the years, I've learnt to understand your life. What the kutt means and everything that it involves”, you responded. “Dangerous or not, it’s your life. You chose it and I respect it. And I love your brothers. They are my family now too.”

“But I’m gonna die, Y/N. Someday. For my club”, he added.

“You don’t know that for sure.”

“It’s a possibility.”

“So, I could die too someday. You know that what I do to earn money isn’t safe either.”

“You won’t die as long as I’m here.”

“Maybe. But what if we die? Everybody dies. And I prefer to spend the time we have together. No matter what.”

“Sounds good”, he acknowledged. Anyway, he still had doubts. “But I’m fucked up. You can’t deny it.”

“Of course you are. You are as fucked up as I am.”

“It’s not the same.”

“I don’t give a shit about what differences you see”, you answered back. “I may be one of the people that knows you better, the good and the bad. And I still love you. You’ve never scared me. I see you, Happy, and I still love you with all my heart.”

“Thanks”, he muttered. “For loving me despite everything I am and everything I do.”

“Cut the bullshit”, you growled while hitting him with the right amount of force in the ribs. “You are talking like a crybaby.”

“Sorry”, he answered, this time with a slight smile on his face. “I just don’t want you to regret it.”

“I won’t. I promise.”

“Okey. Fine.”

Happy stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray on his bedside table and made himself comfortable on the bed, pulling you towards him so that your head rested on his chest.

“So, are you gonna be here, right?”, he asked you in a soft voice while his hand caressed your still naked body. “Tomorrow morning, I mean.”

“Yeah, I’ll be here”, you responded tenderly. “Tomorrow morning and every other morning. I’m not going anywhere anymore.”

“Sounds good.”

“Sounds perfect”, you pointed out.

←Part 2 // Part 4→

[too-gay-for-marvel]

just this once pt.8

a/n: this is it! the culmination of all the efforts and love y’all have shared for this story! but i have some good news for y’all that I’ll share in a few days, after most everyone has read the fic!

Words: 4,335

Warnings: one suicide joke, claustrophobia, thelassophobia (kind of?)

Pairing: Natasha x Reader

Durak - idiot Pizdec - fuck Ublyudok - bastard

(pt.1 pt.2 pt.3 pt.4 pt.5 pt.6.1 pt.6.2 pt.6.3 pt.7 pt.8)

Taglist: @daniescady @twilight-99-tm @333hhm @mika-kc @xxromanoffxx @izalesbean @diaryoflife @bebe404 @strangegardentaco @the-empty-chxld @lgtftchan @m-zne237 @wickedmuses @hopingforromanoff @noodlybees @llamame-papi @gottacamz @wouldirunofftheworldsomeday @santasbitch @when-wolves-howl @madamevirgo @ohfuckno @lenalex78 @mrvvl @alowint @killm3slowly @causeitswhatjesuswouldfreakingdo​

Yelena’s POV

“Are you sure you’re going to be okay?” Yelena asked yet again as she straightened your tie.

“It’s an engagement party,” you said with a raised brow. “They should’ve had this months ago.”

“That’s not what I asked,” Yelena shot back.

“I’ll be fine, mom,” you teased with a roll of your eyes.

Yelena frowned and slapped your chest, but otherwise dropped the subject. You had been toughing through everything for the past three weeks, and she was proud of you. Did she think you should go to the party tonight? No, not at all. But she had never been able to convince you of something once you had made up your mind.

“Cheeseburger, Roger, bedtime is at 8,” you shouted through the door. “And no ice cream!”

“Ma’am,” you said, holding your arm out for Yelena to take.

She rolled her eyes with a huff, but threaded her arm through yours anyway. Was she your official date? No, but she had to admit, you both looked damn good. You were rocking a red button up, white vest, and black tie, while Yelena showed off in a tight white dress. You would both turn heads for sure.

The party was in full swing by the time you both made it upstairs. Stark was never one to skimp on a party. Or booze. And for that, Yelena was grateful. If she was going to have to watch you live-action love triangle between you, Maria, and Nat, then she was going to need a lot of alcohol.

“Drink?” You asked, but before Yelena could answer you were already walking off to the bar.

She wasn’t surprised though; she had seen Natasha and Maria having drinks with Rhodey, Stark, and Miss Potts. Of course you would be heading to get a drink. Oh, if only someone had told you that you shouldn’t have come.

Oh wait. She did.

You came back with two drinks, one already half empty. Of course you gave her the one that was half empty, she shouldn’t have expected any real chivalry from you. But she took it graciously with a quiet “thanks” before raising her glass and the both of you downing them quickly.

“You’re miserable,” Yelena said as you both moved to the bar to sit down. If you were already there, it would be easier to get drinks.

“I think you mean insufferable,” you shrugged without looking at her. You were already trying to get a second drink.

“I know what I said,” Yelena huffed. “Don’t drink too much, either. I’m not dragging your scaly ass back downstairs.”

“It’s okay, I’ll just jump off the balcony. It’s faster that way,” you teased.

“That’s not funny,” Yelena said with a grumble. Those type of jokes weren’t new for you, but that didn’t mean Yelena had to like them.

“What if I evolved wings?” You asked with a raised brow before taking another large swig of your drink.

“That’s not how evolution works,” Yelena said.

It was small talk, nothing either of you really had anything meaningful to say. But sitting at the bar was the comfortable spot for the both of you, and that was worth it. Even before shit hit the fan, you had stayed by the bar. It was tough to start conversations with people you didn’t care for.

And Yelena understood that better than most.

“Think Cheeseburger and Roger will be okay?” You asked after a few more drinks. You weren’t drunk, but Yelena could tell you wanted to be.

“I’ll take care of them,” she said softly. “They’ll be okay.”

“Thank you,” you answered without looking at her.

Yelena’s heart ached at the thought of you leaving. She understood why you had to; it was too much at the Tower, and you had a new mission in life. There was no way she was going to try and talk you out of it. But that didn’t mean she was happy about.

But if you would be happier, then she would let you go with a smile.

Natasha’s POV

Natasha hated knowing that you were so miserable. She hated that you had shown up when you clearly hadn’t wanted to, but you had done it for her. When she had told Yelena about the party, she hadn’t thought you were nearby. Inviting you was never her intention because she knew it would just hurt.

But you had told her you would be there, and there you were. At the bar with Yelena, of course, but you were there. Downing more drinks than Natasha could count, and that worrisome in and of itself. All she wanted was for you to be happy, but she just seemed to make it worse.

“They’re coming over,” Maria whispered into her ear.

She looked up from her drink with a start and saw you finally standing up from the bar. You gave Yelena a kiss on the cheek, and a heat ran down Natasha’s spine. Don’t be jealous, she thought to herself, you have no right. But she was.

“May I have this dance?” You asked once you had gotten close.

“Be my guest,” Maria said with a smile, and Natasha took your outstretched hand and let you lead her to the makeshift dance floor.

It wasn’t necessarily a slow song, but you danced slowly anyway. Just that gentle sway that wasn’t really dancing, but everyone seemed to consider it acceptable. Natasha didn’t care, though. She just liked being close to you.

“You’ve got some good friends, Nat,” you said after a few moments of silence.

You were looking at the group of Avengers currently goofing off around the pool table. Thor, Steve, Bucky, and Sam were all playing, each one doing a worse job than the last. Wanda and Vision were standing to the side and watching while Pietro kept refilling their drinks without them noticing.

Tony, Bruce, and Rhodey had gathered around Maria and Clint and were striking up a conversation. And various other SHIELD agents were just enjoying the scene. Everyone was laughing, having fun, living the night like it was their last. A habit they had all adopted long ago.

“They’re alright,” she said with a smile, more to herself than you.

“You’d better be good to Maria,” you continued.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Natasha asked, looking up into your eyes.

“I would take her place if given half the chance,” you said, ignoring her question. “But since I can’t, you’d better treat her well.”

“I will,” she said softly.

“And no getting into sticky situations without backup,” you continued with a slight frown. “No more getting snowed into cabins with someone you’re lusting after.”

“You make it sound so sleezy,” Natasha huffed. “Where’s this coming from?”

You fell silent, looking back out over everyone in the room. There was a look on your face that Natasha couldn’t quite place. A look of resignation, maybe? She didn’t know, but it wasn’t the look she had hoped to see on your face.

“I’m leaving, Nat,” you finally said, looking back down at her.

“Leaving?” She asked. “When?”

“Tomorrow,” you shrugged. “Yelena’s getting custody of Cheeseburger and Roger.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Natasha asked, pulling away from you.

“It would hurt less.”

The lack of any sort of emotion in your eyes pained Natasha in a way she couldn’t put into words. You were going to leave her? And you hadn’t even planned on telling her? You were just going to leave with no warning, no notice, and hope she wouldn’t notice?

“Perfect timing, then,” she said.

“You asked,” you shrugged again, shoving your hands into your pockets.

“Yeah. I did,” Natasha said. “And I regret it.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say, Nat,” you said. “You asked. And I’m not going to stay somewhere I’m not wanted.”

“No one ever said you weren’t wanted,” Natasha shot back. “You’re wanted.”

“Not the way I want to be, Nat,” you argued. “Maybe you want me around, maybe Yelena does, maybe Maria and Wanda even tolerate me. But what else?”

“I’m not doing this here,” Natasha said, shaking her head.

“Either we do it here, or we don’t do it at all,” you said. “So make your choice, because after tonight I’m-”

“All hands on deck,” Nick’s voice came loud and clear through the room, and everyone fell silent instantly. “We’ve got a sinking sub, so rescue team, it’s your time to shine.”

“That’s my cue,” you said even though your jaw was clenched painfully tight as you looked at Fury.

“I’ll go with you,” Natasha said, but you held your hand up to stop her.

“It’s your engagement party, relax,” you shrugged. “Yelena can be my jumping partner.”

Natasha didn’t get a chance to argue with you before you were walking off, gesturing for Yelena to follow suit. She turned and gave Natasha a sympathetic smile and wave before following after you. And once again, Natasha was left to watch you walk away without her.

Yelena’s POV

Yelena hated taking you on rescue jumps. She was never the biggest fan of the water to begin with, but watching you dive out of the helicopter with no care in the world gave her chills. Very few things in life scared her more than that. And yet you did it and laughed at her when you came back up to the surface.

“Nearing the drop zone,” Yelena shouted through the mic. You didn’t say anything, just gave her a thumbs up, and Yelena rolled her eyes before focusing once again on where she was flying.

It only took another minute or so before she was hovering over the drop zone. The SHIELD ship wasn’t too far behind, with Natasha and Maria in the control room. They would be watching through the camera around your neck.

“Don’t be a hero,” Yelena yelled back to you.

“Keep the boys fat and happy,” you shouted back with a wink and a smile before diving headfirst into the water 30 feet below.

“Suka,” Yelena muttered to herself.

Between the time you had jumped into the water, and the time Yelena could land the copter on the ship, it was an anxiety filled silence. She had no way to contact you, no way to know if you were safe, at the sub, nothing. All she could do was wait, and Yelena hated waiting.

But she felt a little better when she got back to the control centre of the ship and saw your camera feed, noting that you were approaching the sub. How you were going to get everyone out, she had no idea. But she had faith in you.

“How do I get in?” You asked over the comms.

“There’s a hole near the top. You should be able to squeeze in, but it’ll be tight,” Maria answered.

You worked your way around the sub, looking for the opening she had specified. Maria was right; it would be very tight. They all watched with bated breath as you manoeuvred yourself into the crack, twisting and turning, pulling metal out of the way.

“I told you guys I’m claustrophobic,” you said once you had finally managed to squeeze through the small space.

It was weird to see you in a space with no water. Okay, the water was pouring in through the hole, but the sub was fairly dry, by all accounts. Normally you were submerged the entire time, so to see you walking around was unusual to Yelena.

You managed to find a group of men easily; they were all in the galley trying to figure out what to do. Maria had told you to direct them to the escape pods, and they went quickly and willingly. They told you there were a few groups left and where to find them, and then they were gone.

“What’s the anatomy of the sub, where should I go first?” You asked, but you were already heading down one of the halls.

“Did you just say “anatomy”?” Natasha asked.

“It’s a “layout,” durak,” Yelena shouted back.

“Shut up, I’m stressed and you know what I meant!” You shouted.

“What kind of idiot thinks “anatomy” is the right word?” Yelena continued.

“I just said I’m stressed, Belova, shut up!”

“It’s not a living thing,” Yelena kept up. You were so stupid sometimes.

“Yelena enough,” Maria said, “go down the stairs to the living quarters.”

“Who taught you how to talk?” Yelena refused to give up this topic up. This was pure gold. “Or are you just stupid all on your own?”

“Yelena,” Natasha huffed.

“How about next time you dive into the sinking submarine. Then we’ll see if you get your words right,” you continued as you jumped down the stairs, landing with a hard “thud.”

“Of course I will, I have more than one brain cell,” Yelena taunted.

“Enough, the both of you,” Maria shouted.

“Sorry Maria,” you both said like scolded little children.

Y/N’s POV

You went through the living quarters methodically, checking each room on both sides until you came to the flooded section at the bottom. The sirens were really starting to hurt your ears, but you could tough through it until you got everyone out.

The water was up to your knees when you threw one of the doors open, revealing four men; one of which had a bone sticking out of the skin on his leg. As far as you could tell, the other three men were uninjured. At least on the outside.

“You’re SHIELD?” One of the uninjured men asked.

“Yeah, we’re getting you out,” you said with a nod. “Need help carrying him?”

“Yeah. Water’s too high. Know where the escape pods are?” Another asked. You said no, but they could lead you in the right direction.

You sloshed through the water and picked the injured man up bridal style, being careful not to hit his leg on anything. It was a long trip, and by the time you had finished winding through the corridors to the escape pods, the water was up to your mid-thighs.

“Can we seal this section off?” You asked as you set the man in a seat. “Keep the pods secure while I get everyone else out?”

“It can be sealed, but not for long,” the injured man said softly. “If the pressure gets to be too much on the other side, the whole thing will implode.”

“Then I’ll be quick. Can the rest of the men fit in the last pod?” You asked. They nodded. “Get going, the second pod will be up after you before long.”

They got settled as you closed the hatch, and the pod was ejected before you had made it to the stairs. Maria directed you up to the engines, which should hopefully lead you to the last of the men. And then you could get the hell out of there and finish what you had started.

The engine room was flooding by the time you got there. Even though there was no fear of you drowning, the fear still crept up in the back of your head. Just knowing that you were watching the water rise as the pressure in the sub increased was more than you could fathom.

And unlike the other agents, you could breathe underwater.

“You all need to get to the escape pods,” you shouted.

“We’re missing someone,” one of the men said as the others made their way down.

“Where is he?” You asked. He needed to hurry or none of them would get out.

“With the missiles,” he said quickly. “He’s disabling them so they don’t blow.”

Brave man, you thought.

“Get going, don’t leave until he gets there. I’ll radio you if we won’t make it,” you said. The man nodded and ran off after the others, shouting “we’ll drown in 10 minutes!”

“Maria, missiles lower down?” You asked as you started moving again.

“Lowest level,” she said.

You darted through the halls, down the stairs, splashing through the now-waist high water. If it was up to your waist then you needed to hurry, because most of these men would drown soon. That was something you weren’t going to let happen. No one died in a cage; not even humans.

The echoing of a scream got your attention, and you ran in the direction it came from. You had to ask the man to scream again once, twice, three times before you found him. He was stuck under a piece of equipment with the water rapidly approaching his head.

“Don’t let me die here,” he said quickly, eyes wide with fear.

“No one is dying today,” you answered, making sure to make eye contact so he knew you were serious. He nodded once.

You moved around, looking for any way to get the giant piece of equipment off of the man, but to no avail. Would you be able to lift it if you tried? Who knew, but by god were you gonna try. You positioned yourself under the equipment, your shoulder situated perfectly to left up.

“If this moves, it’ll hurt,” you warned him as you got ready. “Scream if you need to.”

“Thanks for the warning,” he said with a groan. You didn’t think he was really thankful.

“One,” you said, fixing your hands.

“Two,” you continued, bracing your feet against something solid.

“Three,” you finished, pushing up with all the strength you had in your body.

The piece moved slightly, and the man did indeed scream from the release of pressure. But you weren’t making enough progress, he couldn’t move. You were going to have to put all the weight back on him or risk dropping it and crushing it.

“I’m sorry,” you said softly.

“Worth a try,” he said back, but there was a deeper pain in his voice. “The pods need to leave, there’s not time.”

“There’s time,” you said, leaving no room for argument. “Right?” You whispered.

“You’ve got five minutes,” Maria’s voice came in.

Five minutes. Easy.

“Stay right here,” you said as you walked off to find something, anything to help lift the equipment. “And try not to drown.”

“Where else could he go?” Yelena asked. “It’s not like he can head out for a smoke.”

“Shut up, I’m nervous,” you shot back.

There was nothing you could use to slide the man out from under the piece of equipment. Nothing that would provide enough leverage to make a difference. You couldn’t just try to lift it again, it wasn’t going to work, what if-

Of course.

You ran back to the man and told him to hold his breath when he started to slip. He gave you a confused look, but nodded anyway. You slipped under the water that was dangerously close to the man’s face and found the bottom of the piece of equipment.

Here goes nothing, you thought as you positioned yourself underneath the very bottom of the equipment. It was going to be tight and quick, but it could work. Squeezing underneath the equipment was tough, and you could feel the different edges digging into your back, but if you could push up with your arms and legs then maybe, just maybe, it would work.

“Be careful,” Natasha’s voice came in over the comms.

You didn’t count down this time, there was no point. Instead you just braced yourself and pushed up. The pain in your back indicated that something was starting to slice you open, but you didn’t stop. A stinging sensation in your hands and legs continued to build, but the equipment started to move.

The man slipped out from under the equipment, and once you could see that he was completely out of reach, you let the equipment drop. You grabbed the man under the arms and pulled him up so he could breathe. His entire side was slick with blood and limp, but you could work with that.

“Told you no one was dying,” you told him as you started making your way down to the escape pod.

“90 seconds,” Maria said.

Shit.

“Escape pod, we’re on our way, don’t eject,” you said into your comms.

“Better hurry, Agent, we’re sinking,” one of the men said.

I know, you thought to yourself as you started pushing the pace. The man was barely conscious by the time you got back to the escape pod. And much to your dismay, the men were right; the hatch was barely above the water.

“Come on,” you said as you finished carrying the man. The men inside opened the hatch and helped carry him in.

“Get going, now,” you said. The men didn’t argue with you, instead just thanking you and closing the hatch.

They ejected the last pod, and you were left alone.

Yelena’s POV

“Pod is clear,” you said, and everyone breathed a sigh of relief.

“Time to get your ass back on the ship,” Natasha said, not giving anyone else any time to talk.

It broke Yelena’s heart to see Natasha so worried about you. She knew she couldn’t choose, for one reason or another. Deep down, Natasha just didn’t want to hurt anybody; she just didn’t know that that was what was actually hurting anybody. If only she could just let herself feel and accept those feelings.

“No can do, Romanoff, these pumps are gonna blow when they’re submerged,” you said.

“I thought the whole reason that agent got trapped was so they wouldn’t blow,” Yelena argued.

“Looks like it fell on him a bit too early,” you continued.

“Pizdec,” Yelena mumbled to herself.

“Just let it blow,” Maria said. Her brows were furrowed and Yelena could see the indecision on her face.

“Can’t, the pods won’t be far enough away.”

“Just get out,” Natasha yelled, “they’ll be far enough away.”

“Not letting them die, Nat,” you argued.

The sub was sinking, and you were either going to die, or stop the explosion. Yelena couldn’t tell what she thought would be more merciful. She knew you couldn’t drown, but what if you got stuck? What if you couldn’t get out and the sub just continued to sink until it either hit ground, or imploded?

“I’ll tell you when the pods are clear,” Maria said. “Pull up the trackers,” she ordered the agents in the room.

They moved fast, and two little green blips appeared on the radar. You were right; they weren’t far enough away. Given the potential blast radius, they needed at least another two minutes before they were far enough away to handle potential shock waves.

“Don’t forget Cheeseburger and Roger have bedtimes now,” you said. Your cam showed that the water was now up to your neck.

“You can tell them yourself tonight,” Natasha said.

“Not if this blows,” you said. It sounded like you weren’t expecting to come back.

Of course.

“Pods are clear of the blast radius,” Maria said.

“Perfect,” you said, and you started running down the hall. You were heading to the escape pod hatches. “Gives me a bit of time, if I hurry.”

“You’ve got 75 seconds by the time you get out of the hatch,” Maria continued. She looked like she had given up.

Yelena didn’t blame her.

“Get out and swim directly up,” Natasha said, basically taking over Maria’s spot at the control centre.

“It’s not sending me to the surface, Nat,” you said.

“But the sub is sinking, while you swim up. Creates more distance,” Natasha continued.

“I’ll try, but I won’t make the distance,” you said. You had finally reached the hatch. It took you only seconds to get out and start swimming.

“You’ll make it,” Natasha said. “Just keep swimming.”

You didn’t say anything; you just swam as fast as your arms and legs would take you. It was truly impressive, but that didn’t mean you were going to get out in time. And if Yelena was being honest with herself, she wasn’t sure you wanted to get away in time.

“15 seconds,” Maria said. You weren’t even close.

“Y/N,” Natasha said. Everyone could hear the unshed tears in her voice.

“Take care of the boys,” you said. “And thank you.”

“Y/N I-”

Your camera went dark, and the control centre went silent. No one said a word, no one moved; they all just glued their eyes to Natasha. She was leaning over the console, staring at the black screen you had left behind. Yelena could see a single tear fall down her cheek.

The two escape pods surfaced only three minutes after the explosion. None of the men would ever forget you.

Five Weeks Later

“I told you no ice cream,” Yelena said as she slapped one of Cheeseburger’s tentacles away from her bowl. He had gotten greedy, especially during movie nights.

She had practically moved into your suite after the rescue mission. Your things were still sitting exactly where you had left them; she had only really moved the dishes. It wasn’t the same without you there, but she was making it work.

Especially since Natasha had started going on mission after mission and insanely intricate wedding planning just to distract herself.

The notification sound on her phone went off, but she didn’t even look. If anyone really needed her, they would come get her. Or they would call, she would refuse to answer, and then text them to ask what they wanted. On top of that, everyone knew not to bother her on movie night. That was strictly for her and the boys.

But Roger handed her the phone anyway, and she supposed that she might as well read it.

Unknown Number 22:17 Wedding updates? ;)

Yelena looked at the message as a smile slowly crept onto her face and she started typing back.

22:18 Ublyudok :(

She set the phone back down on the couch and looked at Roger and Cheeseburger with a smile.

Suddenly the suite didn’t feel so empty anymore.

[mistresspotterhead]

The American Ymbryne- Chap. 1

Alma Peregrine x fem!reader

Warnings: Yelling, slamming hands on a table, being outed (kind of)

Words: 1,900 on the dot

A/N: Wow, this took a lil bit. Alma doesn’t appear until the very end of this chapter, but she’ll be in the next one a lot. Everyone has been so kind, and that has helped a lot <3. Also: Miss Saker indicates the type of bird you are, not your given name. I hope you guys like this. 😊😊😊

Tags: @itsonlydana @evil-feather @merci-bitch @multimilfs @escapetodreamworld @gay-and-sad-tm @multifandomfix @romanottsmaximoff @n0thing-is-real-exe​ @theaudreymere 

(ask if you want to be added/removed)

In a strange way, Cairnholm reminded you of the Chicago loop you and your wards had just fled from. They were both very dreary, cold, and, from what you could tell from those on the ferry, the people would rather be anywhere else. 

“M-miss Saker? I’m cold.” The bundle of talking coats shivered next to you. 

“I know, Astrid. We’re almost there, though.” You sighed and looked out toward the slowly approaching coastline. Your surviving children, Elina, Alexander, Leonard, and, of course, Astrid, all huddled closer to you. You stared at Cairnholm for a while longer, until the ferryman’s voice suddenly called out.

“Alright everyone, ‘ere we are! The… lovely… Cairnholm!” He steered the small ferry over to the somehow smaller docks, and you led your children out.

“Is everyone here? Astrid, Leo, Elina, Alex?” David, Beth-Anne, Lisa, Frankie, June, Stefanie, Josef, Alice, Rosie, Reggie. You suppressed the urge to call out their names as well. 

“Yes, Miss Saker,” they called in long-suffering voices- you were very adamant about attendance. It was good to see something was normal.

“All right then. Leo, can you see where the loop is? And Alex, are there any other peculiars near?” Ah yes, your diviners. It was very lucky for all of you that they were two of those that survived the wight’s invasion of your loop. 

Your Chicago loop near the Art Institute was one of the last surviving loops in America maintained by an Ymbryne, along with your South Side, McKinley Park, and St. Louis loops, though the latter was run mainly by its older wards and reset once a week.

As of a fortnight ago, though, the Art Institute loop was the only one you had. McKinley Park was attacked by Wights and Hollows in December, with South Side following close in early January. Samuel, the sole survivor of McKinley Park, was what Syndrygasti call a Librarian. He could see hollows and alerted you to them when you were traveling to St. Louis for reset. The problem with this, though, was that Sammy was only five years old, and so frequently got distracted.

It wasn’t hard to understand- Illinois in 1975 was very colorful. Sammy was gone now, though, as were all most all of your children. Speaking of… 

“There aren’t any other peculiars on the island, Miss Saker- at least not in this time,” Alex said, startling you out of your thoughts.

“Thank you, dear. How are you faring, Leo? Have you located the loop? I don’t like being out in the open for this long.” For emphasis, Elina gave a giant, chattering shiver that was surely exaggerated.

“Indeed, but it is on the other side of the island, and the night is fast approaching.” 

You looked over and scowled at the sun; if you couldn’t get rest, then why was it allowed to?

“Well then. It looks like we’ll have to go into town.” Immediately, protests arose.

“Aw, no!”

“Come on, Miss Saker! We can make camp out here!”

“Because that sounds comfortable,” Leo deadpanned to Astrid.

“Well, it’s better than town! There probably isn’t even a hotel!”

“Actually, Astrid, that’s where you’re wrong.” Astrid looked shocked at the suggestion that she could ever be incorrect at something. “There is a hotel. It’s called the….” You took out the crumpled guidebook the ferryman had given to each tourist. “Preist Hole. What kind of hotel is called the Priest Hole?” You muttered that last part to yourself. “Anyway, off we go. Come along, single file now.”

Your ducklings dutifully arranged themselves from youngest to oldest, seven-year-old Elina closest to you and sixteen-year-old Leo at the back.

You hoped that the food was at least good.

Nope. Everything on the Preist Hole’s menu was covered with vinegar. You wondered if that was a Welsh thing or a Cairnholm thing. Maybe the owner just liked vinegar. Next to you, Elina was grimacing with every bite. On a whim, you decided to flag the bartender down.

“Hey, Kev, was it?” He grinned widely at you. You gave him a small smile in return.

“Yes, ma’am, that’s me. What can I do for you ‘n yer bunch today?” 

“I was just wondering if you had some fries- sorry, chips- with less vinegar. My youngest is still picky.”

“Hmm. Well, I’ll talk to Arnie ‘n see what he can whip up fer ye. He’s the cook, ye see.”

“Thank you so much, sir.” You attempted a bigger smile, but it still felt forced.

“Naw, it ain’t a problem, really. ‘N please, call me Kev. Sir sounds like I’m fifty- ‘n I’ve still got twenty years ‘fore that,” he chuckled.

“Well then, you must call me y/n.”

“Of course, ma’am- y/n, sorry.” He rubbed the back of his neck.

“It’s alright, Kev.” This time, your smile was a small bit genuine- his hesitancy was endearing.

“Yeh. Well, um, I’d better talk teh Arnie now. I’ve kinda been lingering here for a while.”

“Of course. I wouldn’t want to keep you from work, anyway.”

“I mean, I wouldn’t object if yeh did,” Kev concluded, winking before walking away.

Once he was out of earshot, Astrid started chittering.

“Ooh, was that flirting I saw, Miss Saker?” You rolled your eyes, and Alex guffawed into his water.

“Miss Saker? Flirt with a guy? I think Elina would drink an entire bottle of vinegar before that happened.” You turned your head sharply in his direction, but not before Astrid snapped back at him.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You jerk your head toward her now.

“Well, Miss Saker isn’t really the type to, ah, dabble in the male gene pool.” It was like you were watching tennis, really, with all this head-turning.

“That doesn’t make any-”

“ENOUGH!” You stood up, placing your hands on the bar. “This is not a discussion we are having, especially not here and now. Alex, I told you that information in confidence, and I am severely disappointed that you have betrayed that. Astrid, whether or not I am flirting with someone, and really my love life in general, is none of your concern. Do you both understand?”

They nodded, Alex looking especially ashamed of himself.

“Sorry, Miss Saker. It just slipped out.”

You sighed and ignored all the stares you and your wards were getting because of your outburst. 

“Alright, Alex. Just… you can’t share things that people tell you privately.”

“Yes, Miss Saker.” He was quiet after that, poking at his food.

It bothered you that he had shared that information, though it didn’t seem as if the other wards had understood. Of course, Leo was the only one you would expect to, as he was sixteen, but he had been sheltered in your loop his entire life. All of your wards had, really.

Just as you were beginning to sink into your past again, Kev came out with Elina’s new plate of fr- chips.

“Here ye are, little lady. I hope you like these better.” He smiled at Elina, tugging a small one out in return. You both watched expectantly as she took a tentative bite. And another. And another. Until the plate was almost gone, and she was rubbing her stomach in contentment.

“Well, that was fast.”

“It was good, Miss Saker. I wasn’t going to let it cool.” You laughed at the disapproving look on her face.

“Alright, alright. I suppose you have a good point.” You turned to Kev. “Thank you again, sir, for-”

“Kev.”

“...right. Thank you for doing this. How much will it cost?” You were ruffled at his interruption, but he didn’t notice. He pretended to think for a moment.

“Hmm… how much will makin’ a little girl ‘n her mam happy cost? I dunno.” He smiled at you. “It’s on the house. I can see that ye haven’t had such a good day, so….”

“Really? Are you sure? I mean, I have the money….”

“I’m completely sure. It’s good te make someone happy once in a while.”

“Well, I truly do thank you. It also seems that we’ll need a room, if that’s alright?”

“Sure. Room four was just recently vacated. It’s right up here.” He led you up the stairs, the kids trailing behind.

The room was small for five people, but it seemed like a mansion to the children, who only had their old, overcrowded loop to compare it to. There were four rickety beds, though they did seem to be clean, and a barren nightstand next to each of them. 

“Ah… I forgot that this only had four beds. I can get ye another room, or-”

“No, no, this is fine. Thank you for your help, Kev.” You subtly ushered him toward the door.

“Oh- well, if ye need anythi-”

“Yes, of course. Ta, then! Have a nice day!” You shut the door, leaving him very confused.

Alex was wheezing on the floor behind you.

“That… that was absolutely amazing Miss Saker! You are an absolute icon!” 

What in Abaton does that mean? You never could understand the new slang terms that the 1970s held. 

Elina yawned, setting off all the other children and alerting you to their needs.

“Alright then, time for bed.” Immediately, they were completely awake.

“I’m not tired at all, Miss Saker, therefore I shan’t be able to fall asleep.” 

“The fact that your accent is coming out very strongly tells me that you are indeed tired, Leo.” You crossed your arms. “Bed. now.” Your wards slouched, and grudgingly picked out a bed each.

“Miss Saker, where will you sleep tonight?” Astrid asked as you were tucking her covers in.

“On the floor, of course. Now, did you remember to take off your gloves?”

“But it won’t be comfortable! The floor is so hard and cold and dirty and-”

“Your gloves, Astrid.” She was very talkative, even late at night, though you had come to enjoy it. Sometimes.

She took off the gloves that helped control her peculiarity and was about to start chattering again when Elina suddenly spoke up from her bed in the corner.

“I could make you a nest with a spare blanket, Miss Saker?” You gave her one of your very rare genuine smiles.

“That would be lovely, Elina.”

“Wait- how did she know you were going to sleep in bird form?” Alex asked, finally catching on. You smiled again at Elina and kissed her on the forehead.

“She’s made me a little nest before when I fall asleep in my study while in bird form.”

“And that happens often?”

“Surprisingly so. Now, snuggle in and no more talking.” As the children said their goodnights, you finally transformed into your bird form; a stunning saker falcon. You jumped lightly onto Elina’s bed, careful not to hurt her with your razor-sharp talons or accidentally hit her with your wing (which had happened on more than one occasion). 

Though you nestled into the warm bunch of blankets right away, you didn’t fall asleep until much later, and even then, you were restless all night. 

---

Little did you know, in the old manor that you would trek to the next day, a group of peculiars and one very curious ymbryne had observed all of this. Alma LeFay Peregrine set her watch and gave the children a reassuring smile while she pondered what this meant and why her stomach had fluttered when you gave that dazzling smile.

[imaginesforhotguys]

Imagine…

Packing

Jax Teller x Reader

Word Count: 708

“Why you packing?”

A long sign escapes your lips as you close the lid of your suitcase. “Because I’m done Jax. I can’t keep doing whatever the hell this is.”

This wasn’t just because of one thing. This was everything little thing Uber the past couple of months that you tried to suppress. But one after another they came flooding in and soon enough you couldn’t handle the mountain of pain you built for yourself. Well with the help of Jax of course. From the risky runs Clay had him doing, the shady businesses, the lies about where he was going it was all adding up. But the not so sweet cherry on top was the woman. Now you trusted Jax completely. He would kill and die for you and you knew that. You trusted Jax you did not however trust the woman that surround this club.

The crow eaters didn’t care that you loved Jax or that Jax loved you. The wanted one thing and that was him. They would be all over him at parties even come to TM just to see him work. It made your skin crawl. The worst part was that Jax didn’t seem to care. He often wouldn’t say anything to them. He would allow them to hopelessly flirt with him all day and night. But sometimes he would flirt back. Whether it be a comment he made or touching them a little to long he would do these small things to shut them up. He knew why he did. Am angry crow eater can cause a lot of damage. Can literally break up a club so when one of the girls got to bitchy Jax would do what he needed to do to shut them up. In that way you understood, buts when the girls got mouthy with you and Jax did nothing you drew the line. You were way more than some slut porn star, you were Jax Teller’s old lady. You should be respected, they should go silent when you walk into the room instead they smirk and make sly comments under their breath and this was because of Jax’s actions.

“What do you mean your done? What happened?” He grabs both of your hands in his before you roughly pull them.

“The fact that you don’t know what happened is exactly why I need a fucking break.” You put your suitcase one the floor and start to wheel it out if the room. He grabs your wrist in the doorway before you can walk past him.

“Please just tell me.” He says softly.

“Those woman throw themselves on you everyday Jax. They come into the clubhouse in their tight clothes, tits bouncing everywhere, and they drape themselves on you. And you seem to think that is not a big deal. That may be how single Jax liked things but your not the man anymore.” You grab the handle again and walk down the hall to the kitchen. Shoving the last of your stuff into you purse you throw it over your shoulder. You leave your key to the house on the table and walk out the front door. Throwing your stuff in the backseat of your car you see Jax leaning against the doorframe of the house. You let out a sigh. If Jax didn’t even try to explain why even try for this relationship. You slid yourself into the drivers seat and start the engine.

Before you can back out Jax is as your side window, motioning for you to roll it down.

“What Jackson?”

“Did you ever think that I never said anything about those girls because I don’t notice them? Those girls aren’t you and you’re the only one I’m ever looking. Babe one of those whores could be on fire and I’m not even turning in their direction. I love you and only you. I’m sorry if I made you feel like I don’t. I’m not gonna ask you to stay because I know you don’t want that. You need space I understand. Please just promise me you’ll come back so we can talk some more because I’m definitely not done fighting for you. I’m not done loving you (Y/n).”

“I promise Jax”

[orange-waterfalls]

G-Bots (TM)

Googleplier (x4) x viewer!reader

ty anon for the request!

A/N: Funny story! I am no longer physically capable of writing normally! I tried so hard to be normal and just veered off into SCP/Cryptid viewer territory because I like expanding on the idea that the viewer is Not Human! Anyways, you’re hanging out with the Googles. That is it. Nothing is wrong. You do not recognize the bodies in the water haha anyways I think I like went a little creepypasta-esque at the end there but it’s fine I think probably. It’s fine. Might be a little weird in terms of story, but i think this was more focused on world building to me. Probably seen as more platonic than romantic, but see it however you wish. Enjoy!

Word count: 2.5k

G-Bots (TM)

You wheezed just a bit as you sped through wherever-the-fuck you were. Sure, maybe that was a bad idea. Sure, Dark was a little bit threatening and SURE, you were supposed to be back by now, and the fact that you weren’t back with Mark trying to convince him NOT to split up was the tiniest bit problematic. You weren’t even sure this was a building? Were you in the void? Goddammit, not again…

You stopped, concluding that this was bullshit and you did not want to do it right now. You bent over, hands on your knees and took deep breaths. You stared into the emptiness for a bit, then looked around for a moment, just trying to figure things out. You needed to reassess. It was basically one big, long hallway with random twists and terms every few meters. You’d always end up back at the paintings of… them… and knew you’d gone too far. You did that over, and over, and over again. At this point you thought Dark had just forgotten about you. You took a deep breath in and let it out. You stood up straight and looked up at the paintings. You heard their voices echo through your head a bit. You squeezed your eyes shut and your head twitched.

“You’re alright… you’re ok… cool it…” You whispered to yourself. Deep breath in, deep breath out. Meditate. Think.

You looked on either side of the hall and, for the first time, you noticed doors extending down into the void and not stopping. You let out a breath. You felt a slight sense of dread. Something was telling you not to enter the rooms. Some little voice in the back of your head that sounded suspiciously like Mark. But, hey, what else were you gonna do?

“Ok… do i want to enter the door on the left or the door on the right?” You asked yourself. You paused to think about it. After a few seconds you felt yourself jerk forward a bit. Your brain felt staticy and you felt compelled to the left. You turned the knob and opened the door slightly. Immediately you heard music that might be in an SCP game, and a voice that sounded suspiciously like “do you recognize the bodies in the water?”. You were hoping no, and you bailed before you had a chance to look. You ended up almost exactly in your previous position in the hall. Your brain felt fuzzy again, and this time you gravitated to the right. You opened the door just a little, maybe to see what was inside, but again you heard the SCP ambiance.

But this time it was from behind you. So, like any smart person, you swung the door open, slammed it behind you and did your best to lock it. But there was no lock. So you stood. Waiting. Nothing happened.

Of course nothing happened. Why would anything happen? Dark wouldn’t want you to get hurt… probably. This was his domain. Probably. If you were alive, it’s because he wanted you to be. If you were in this room, it’s because he wanted you to be.

Speaking of: Where the hell were you?

You turned around to look behind you. In the blank white room there was a single grey couch with all 4 Google androids sitting on it. Apparently they were recharging, because they hadn’t noticed you standing there and also they were plugged into an outlet in the wall. You hadn’t considered that they had to physically plug into something to charge up, but the thought made you snort.

Bad idea.

All of their eyes snapped open at once, revealing the glow of their assigned colors. They all stood up and began walking towards you in unison. You felt a slight sense of dread. Even so, you tried to grab the doorknob, the one that apparently was no longer there, and cursed under your breath when you could only feel the smooth wall behind you. The androids stopped, staring at you. You cleared your throat.

“Hey…” you laughed nervously, “So, uh, funny story, actually-”

“You are not supposed to be here,” The original Googleplier, Blue, stated.

“Well, see, that’s where this whole thing started, um, see, Mark wanted to split up-”

“No human is allowed inside of this room, and not you, either.”

“Well-” You stopped, processing what he said, “Wait. ‘Either’? I’m human.”

“No, you’re not,” Google Green said. You wanted to be offended, but you were more confused.

“What do you mean? I’m human!” You argued.

“What color’s your hair?” Red asked with a mean smirk on his face. You opened your mouth to respond, and an amalgamate of voices saying “BROWNBLACKBLONDEWHITERED” came out. You slapped a hand over your mouth.

“... what the hell was that?” Your muffled voice whispered. Well, you thought it was probably yours.

“What’s your eye color?” BROWNGREENBLUEAMBERYELLOW exited your being before you could even try to answer.

“Do you have any pets?” That one just ended with a computer error sound from you.

“... huh.” You dropped your shoulders a little. The revelation probably should’ve upset you more.

“What are you doing here?”

“I… do not recognize the bodies in the water.” You explained.

“Ah, I see. Darkiplier would want you to not die, therefore you may stay.”

“Ha. Wow. Who knew the Googleplier androids-”

“G-Bots.”

“... what?”

“We are legally not allowed to use the name ‘Google’ anymore. We are now G-Bots.”

“... legally.”

“We were discontinued. And sold. And signed a contract.”

“So does that mean I can’t call you Google anymore?”

“No, that is simply my name. The name of us as androids, however, is now G-Bots.”

“Ok. What about them?” You pointed to the other three.

“Yellow is Oliver, Green is Lee, Red is Elliott.”

“And you’re just Google?”

“They’ve been trying to change my name to Gregor. I deeply dislike it.”

“It’s a good name.” Oliver suggested, smiling.

“Means vigilant.” Lee shrugged.

“Don’t be a pussy, Greg.” Elliott adopted a shit-eating grin as he leaned a little closer to Google.

“You can do… whatever you wish. Just do not be like them, DA.” Google instructed through gritted teeth.

The room began to shift color and expand. The couch was still grey in the center, but there were now four sections of each of the colors. The yellow section was filled with flowers, with a laptop on a desk next to a switch and a little Vector robot sitting by on the windowsill that showed a colorful meadow with bees buzzing to and fro. It glitched for a moment, so you knew the window wasn’t real. The green section had large houseplants and looked a bit like a greenhouse, and had an Xbox hooked up to a TV in the corner and seemed to have a view of a lake in the faux-window. The red section had miscellaneous wires and computer parts and lights here and there, looking like a fire hazard, and a PC on a table, while the window showed what appeared to be space. Google’s section was absolutely spotless, not a single thing anywhere, apart from a tiny skateboard next to a PS4 in the corner, and the window showed computer code.

“Wow.” You said. You might be stuck here for a while, so you might as well enjoy it.

Though you wondered who DA was. -- You hate to say it, but you had a favorite G Bot. It was kind of like having a favorite child, in your mind. You felt like they somehow knew that you had a favorite, but you didn’t know why.

Oliver was the sweetest by far, immediately going to make you as comfortable or entertained as possible while you were with him. He asked you if you wanted to watch something, if you wanted to play a game, if you were hungry, etc. It was kind of like going over to a friend’s house for the first time. He was enthusiastic to the point where he was shaking with anxiety over wanting to make you happy. You thought he didn’t get many visitors and maybe that was why. He showed you his flowers, and the bees, and a small painting in the corner, hoping for  validation. His glowing eyes seemed to dull when you moved on to the next section, but said you’d visit him again. That did help, but he turned away sadly and went to water his flowers.

Lee seemed as though he couldn’t care less if you were there. He told you where everything was and that you could do whatever. If you asked for help, he would stop what he was doing and help you. Once you understood, he immediately resumed his previous task. He was a bit cold, like Google, but in a “I am very busy but I am still here if you need me” sort of way. He played a game or two with you, having a preference for the puzzle games more than anything else. Puzzle horror, more specifically. If there was a shooting part, he immediately shoved the controller into your hands, saying he didn’t want to do that part. When you left, he simply continued with his work without a goodbye.

Elliott tried so hard to ignore you for the longest time. You could hear him scoff and growl anytime you made any sort of noise. You were self conscious at first, but you came to understand that he was just an asshole. You started on a game, playing for a few minutes, and felt the red couch sink next to you because he had sat down next to you. If he thought you sucked (which he did) he would snatch the controller from you and finish whatever you were doing before giving it back. He refused to say anything or help you, either. He’d just make rude noises and walk away occasionally before coming back. When you left, he seemed a lot angrier than he had before, and wouldn’t say goodbye to you. He turned away with a huff and started pressing random buttons on the controller.

Google was by far the least interested in anything you had to do. You sat on the couch next to him, and he didn’t move an inch. You sat there for a bit, waiting, but he did not move. You stood up, walked around, messed with a few things, attempted to play a game or two. Google didn’t move. You pulled up the Gamer ChairTM and sat directly in front of Google, arms crossed. You sighed. Finally, he looked up at you.

“Is there something you need?” He asked in that monotone voice of his.

“I’m bored,” you said.

“Go to one of the others,” He closed his eyes.

“What are you doing?” You asked, curious.

“That is not-” He sounded exasperated.

“Hey Google, what are you doing?” You interrupted like the little shit you were

“Currently, this G Bot system is recharging its battery. This G Bot is at: 69%.” He shifted to a purely robotic voice.

“Haha nice.”

“This G Bot’s primary objective is to answer questions as quickly as possible. Would you like to ask a question?”

“Yes. What do you like to do, Google?”

“I enjoy answering your questions. Do you have any more?”

“What company owns you?”

“G-Bots were recently sold by the Google company to Warfstache Incorporated.”

“Wilford has a company?”

“Warfstache Incorporated is co-owned by Wilford ‘Motherloving’ Warfstache and Damien-Dami-Da-Darkiplier.” He glitched while answering.

“Who’s Damie-”

“The Corporation owns shows such as ‘Markiplier TV’, ‘Warfstache Tonight!’, and ‘Hire My Ass’. Do you have any more questions?”

“Do you pass the Turing Test?”

“Wondering if you have to treat me with basic decency?” He shifted back to his less robotic, but still monotone, voice.

“No. Just wondering.”

Neither of you spoke again for a while. He did scold you when you tried to move the couch with him still on it, so… progress. -- You were beginning to suspect that Google didn’t like you very much.

The blue one. Google. The other ones liked you. Oliver ranted to you for a whole half hour about different kinds of bugs and the hierarchy of bees. The queen is assassinated when she is bad for the hive, it would seem. Lee made you play Resident Evil with him because he didn’t like the fighting, but he liked figuring out what to do. You frantically passed controllers back and forth a lot. Elliott basically did speedruns of several games, you watching intently the whole time. He seemed to like the attention and actually smiled at you whenever he finished one.

But Google didn’t like you. He ignored you, and told you not to touch anything, and scowled whenever you asked him personal questions. Not like “what’s your sexuality” type of personal questions. More like… “what’s your favorite color and why is it blue” sort of questions. He didn’t like them either way.

But the others liked you, and that was pretty neat.

You still wanted Google to like you though.

“Hey Google,” he perked up with the little “do-do!” noise, “Can you guys go into your different sections?”

“All G-Bots have the ability to pass into other’s color-coordinated sections,” He answered politely.

“Why don’t you?”

“We don’t want to.”

“Do you get along?”

“Yes.”

“Then why don’t you?”

“Celine dislikes when colors are mismatched.”

“Who’s-”

“I’m sorry, this G Bot needs to charge.”

“But you haven’t been-”

“This G Bot needs to charge.”

“Come on, if you--”

“This G Bot needs to charge.”

You quieted and plopped into the chair. You stared at Google. His eyes flickered for a moment before they closed. -- The other Bots knew who Celine and Damien were, they just weren’t telling you. Their eyes always flickered when you asked, but they wouldn’t tell you.

You threatened not to play with Lee anymore. He said he could play on his own. You could see that he didn’t want to. You played Alien: Isolation. His eyes seemed duller.

You threatened not to watch Elliott’s speedruns. He said he didn’t care. You could tell that he did. You watched him play Hollow Knight. His eyes seemed duller.

You threatened not to listen to Oliver’s rants. He looked terrified, but he said that was fine. You could tell it wasn’t. You begged him to tell you. He looked sad.

“Who’s Damien?” You asked softly, stepping towards him.

“I can’t tell you,” He shifted back.

“Who’s Celine?” You stepped forward.

“I can’t tell you.”

“Who’s DA?”

All of the G-Bots stopped what they were doing. You heard static and felt like you were being watched. -- You looked up at the color on the outside of the museum.

You were doing something. You were doing something.

Were you robbing this place? It felt like you were. What happened to Mark? What happened… to you?

You stared at the doors, feeling a slight sense of dread. Something in the back of your head was telling you this wasn’t right. To go home. To…

--

“Ignorance is Bliss. Try Again?”

[lanshappycorner]

Deuce Spade facts and fun facts🥳🥳

This is a list of facts and fun facts about Deuce! This list is based on true facts only and any observations I've made, however observations can be subjective, so those will be labeled properly! Let's start off with some facts already in the wiki :)

First Yr, class 1-A, student no.24

Birthday: June 3

Age: at the beginning of the game, Deuce is 16, but currently, he is 17 [his profile in game has not been updated, but as time is proven to flow in game, it is unclear but can be interpreted that the characters do canonly age]

Gemini

173 cm / 5'8" ft

Homeland: Rose kingdom

Family: Mother, Grandmother, it is implied that his father is out of the picture as Deuce states that he is the only man in the family so his father has either left or is dead

Club: Track and Field [alongside Jack]

Best subject: PE

Dominant hand: Right

Fav food: Egg dishes / omurice

Least fav food: Bell peppers

Dislikes: Limited time sales

Hobby: Magical wheel (twst motorcycle I guess but it looks kinda funky)

Talents: Machinery Maintainance [good with fixing gadgets and etc]

Used to be a delinquent before he heard his mother crying on the phone to his grandmother about his behavior. Afterwards he decided to change

Owns a pink leopard printed suit

Cannot do middle school math, he will take a lot of time to solve simple Algebra problems

Gets nervous and stops functioning entirely when talking to women

Onto some fun facts outside of the wiki! These facts have been gathered from various sources (ppl who can read japanese, ppl who have told me abt info in the twst guidebook, twitter, and ofc the main translated story), but I cannot prove 100% authenticity of this, so take it with a gain of salt

Canonly a pretty boy. Deuce is described as the "cool pretty type" in the twst guidebook

Smells like flowers [applies to all students from Rose kingdom]

A romantic, he admired the king and queen of heart's relationship and trey teased him about it

Thought that baby chicks hatch from store bought eggs until the MC and Grim told him the truth

Can cook eggs (he likes them over easy)

Wanted to make a magical wheel club but was rejected so he joined track and field

Bought magical wheel magazines when he was younger and studied it

Wanted to ride his magical wheel in the heartslabyul maze (mentioned he forgets bad things when he rides it so like...it makes him feel better)

Hates limited times sales/shopping but is extremely good at it. He can remember the price of an item, when exactly it sells out, the percentage/probability of when it can sell out, discount prices and pretty much any math that has to do with it [he's extremely good at shopping because his mother brought him out a lot with her to limited time sales]

In addition to the point above, it is implied he can memorize and calculate that for pretty much every item he intends on buying (everything I listed above is in relation to the time he bought 20 limited time puddings which greatly impressed Sebek who wasn't able to grab even 1, but it was later revealed that he also bought 8 bag full of items requested by Trey for baking, as well as the others probably from heartslabyul) so basically Deuce big brain and very good memorization abilities

Hilariously in the instance above, Sebek, who is like...a real fae, has said that what Deuce did was not something a human can do

Flirted with a plant because vil was fucking around with him and told him to

Was ready to fist fight Riddle

Was about to go find Leona to beat him up but Vil was like do u have no fear and Deuce pretty much said that he can get thru to Leona with his muscles

Was about to fight Malleus (jesus christ) but ended up fixing his tamagotchi and came out completely loaded and rich (good for deuce, get that cha ching babey)

Won a Track and Field competition (noted to be rare for a first year)

He is literally a pretty boy, it's been pointed out that he looks good in the ceremonial clothes (but we already know that)

Admires Riddle and sees him as a role model, has called him boss (like...yakuza boss terminology) once

[Observation] Has a pretty good relationship with Jamil as he has asked Jamil to help him practice his Stargazer dance, and mentioned him once again when talking about how Jamil fixed his hat and said that he was a reliable upperclassman

Has said fuck and would not hesitate to say it again 🥺

Has been called honest and cute, was fawned over by kalim and trey. Kalim said Deuce was similar to his younger brothers

During his delinquent phase, he was blamed for many things he didn't do as well, Deuce said that he realized no one believed in him despite what he says, but because a policeman stood up for him, he wanted to become a cop when he grew up

Used intimidation tactics [the equivalent of "u wanna fucking go let's go I'll beat ur ass" to scare off ppl and silver was like hm I will have to try that sometime, to which deuce was pretty much like ahahah no dont

Deuce refers to Yuu as his "mabu", basically calling Yuu his best friend

He can change a lightbulb, and he talks abt hand washing materials and just domestic house stuff in general as if it's common knowledge. In other words it's implied Deuce is really good at housework due to doing a lot for his mother

When he was a kid, he used to cry because he thought there were monsters outside, but it was just hanging laundry

Is more scared of Riddle than ghosts

It's implied that one time (or several times...) he stayed after school with Crewel, and the poor guy had to attempt to explain the same concept over and over again to Deuce for hours until he understood

Ace always cheats in card games with Deuce, so Deuce claims that it's not very fun playing with him

Bad at astrology bc apparently all stars look the same to him

Likes cafe latte

Does tease ppl, he once messed with Yuu and in the process called Ace "Ace-kun" (Ace called him "Deuce-kun" as well). There has been an instance where he's teased Jack about his Niceness TM

Used to have over 30 gang members following him at age 14-15. (You'd think that him being so young would make him like a lackey but no he was the boss)

Has a thing for summoning cauldrons since he was young, but apparently you need to have a large amount of magic capabilities to summon objects, so [observation] deuce may actually be extremely powerful bc he was able to summon things at a young age, but he hasn't refined his powers yet so he still seems weak compared to a lot of the cast

During his delinquent phase, apparently he had a really wild hairstyle and he used his magic on people weaker than him

[Observation] Deuce is actually pretty good at lying. In his Halloween card he was able to put up a good act and deceive some of his ex gang members into following him into the forest before mildly roughing them up (keep in mind that he has not had contact with these ppl for at least a year, yet somehow he was able to assert enough authority to tell them to follow him. Also, he thought of this plan on the spot, and acted malicious enough so that the gang members would believe in him—which proves that he's not only quick witted but a convincing actor, as Jamil actually believed his act for a while)

It's implied that he and Ace are often in leadership positions, as they helped to lead heartslabyul in designing their Halloween booth, but they also mentioned that it was much easier compared to organizing unbirthday parties

[Observation] despite wanting to be an honor student, Deuce is still able to take unjustly means to achieve his goals (EX. Making a deal with Azul to pass his test), in general, deuce doesn't care too much about the method, be it through cheating or violence to get to his goal, but he does value a fair battle

[Observation] a lot of Deuce's strengths are subtle as we are frequently told abt how much of a bad student he is, but if u rly think abt it, deuce is put in leadership positions a lot, he's good a memorization and small technical details, he can be at times quick witted and deceiving, and he has the potential to be extremely powerful in magic. In conclusion Deuce is a menace and once we find out what his unique magic is I'm 100.01% sure he will become a greater menace and I think he should fight a lot of people and win

That will be all for this post! There may be more fun facts/observations that I may have missed, but feel free to add on to this! Anyways thank u for reading and please stan Deuce Spade♠️💙

[redrobinfection]

(16) Graveyard

SociallyAwkwardFox’s Spooktober (2018) - Day 16 “Graveyard”

Tim & Damian | Implied JayTim | Implied DickDami | College AU | No Capes | Crack | actual discussion of literature | Dick Grayson was adopted by the Drakes instead of the Waynes | Want to write/create with me? Find the prompt list here!

~*~

"How about four out of seven?" Tim asked with a shrug, winding up the toilet paper roll again.

Damian, his fellow barista, threw his roll at Tim's head, missing wildly. He glared. "You cheated, Drake!"

Tim rolled his eyes as he retrieved Damian's roll and began winding it up too. "How could I cheat at coffee cup bowling, ‘Wayne’?"

"You wind your roll too tightly. It doesn't unravel as much when you pitch it and thus has more mass by the time it hits the cups."

Tim raised his eyebrows. "What are you now, a physics major? That just sounds like strategy, dude. You are free to roll your roll as tightly as you'd like. That isn't against the rules."

Damian fumed. "The rules you made up! This is why I said we should use the rice crispy ba--customer."

Tim whirled on the spot, seeing that, indeed, a paying customer had entered their little, semi-enclosed coffee shop. Outside, a few students sat or sprawled over the sectional couches that filled the large basement of the university student union in which the shop was located.

Tim turned and vaulted over the counter. He heard a quiet "-tch-" from Damian as he walked to the hinged raise-able section of the counter and let himself in.

Tim straightened his apron and stepped up the register with a smile. The customer stood about five feet from the register, head tilted back, studying the menu board over Tim's head with bleary eyes. The guy was like a zombie, he was that exhausted. Tim cut his eyes over to the clock on the wall. 3:45 am. Hell of a time for coffee.

Tim glanced over his shoulder at Damian, who was reawakening the cranky espresso machine with deft fingers. Seven hours and forty-five minutes with Damian "the Demon " Wayne down, only four hours and fifteen minutes to go. Tim turned back to their customer and sighed. This was going to be a loooooooong morning.

At second glance, there was something familiar about the guy, but Tim couldn't put his finger on where he knew him. The guy had pretty teal eyes, but they were reddened and dull, like he hadn't closed them except to blink in way too long. He was also pretty well cut, Tim noticed, with clearly muscled arms and pecs so defined that Tim could clearly see them through the man's sweater. Maybe that's how Tim knew him? Maybe he'd seen him in the UREC weight room?

The guy's most eye-catching feature by far was the white forelock that curled down over his forehead. He was the third person Tim had met to have a whitened forelock like that; the other two were fraternal twins who had had small patches of albinism right at their widows peaks which affected both the skin and hair. Tim idly wondered if this guy's white lock was natural too. In any case, it looked frickin' cool, a lot cooler than his own; the best thing he could say about his own hair was that he could pull off the 90's curtain cut plus semi-mullet well enough that he could go an entire semester on a single haircut.

Tim was drawn out of his thoughts when dude finally stepped up to the counter and began to speak.

"Uh, hi, could I get a large, double-shot caramel latte?"

"Absolutely. How many pumps of caramel do you want?" Tim asked cheerily.

The guy looked up from digging through his overly stuffed messenger bag. "Uhh…the normal four should be fine."

"Okay, that will be $6.47. Can I get a name for the order?"

The guy didn't look up this time. "Uh, Jason. Gimme a sec', I know my wallet is at the bottom of this thing somewhere."

"No problem, take your time. It's not like we have a line, anyway," Tim joked.

This guy looked so dead right now--inside and out--that if he didn't find his wallet, then Tim would probably just buy the coffee for the guy himself. He understood better than anyone the sudden need for caffeine at odd hours of the day. He's not sure how he would have finished half his computer science projects this term without a much-needed double-espresso every couple of hours, to be honest.

The guy--'Jason' apparently--finally fished out a small money clip then handed over a student ID card. "Put it on my Dining Dollars, please."

"Yeah, no probl- wait a minute!" Tim cut off, staring. Suddenly, it had hit Tim where he knew this guy. "Aren't you that kid who always sits at the front of Professor Hyatt's nine-fifteen, Tuesday-Thursday, Modern European Literature and answers all the questions?"

The dude raised an eyebrow. "Uh, yeah. Why…? Wait…" He squinted and leaned in. "Aren't you the kid who once tried to sit all the way back in the AV booth, since, and I quote, 'the back wasn't far enough back'?"

Tim grinned as he swiped the ID card through the register. "Haha, yeah."

Damian moved as if to step up to the counter, the guy's drink in hand, but stopped dead about a foot away. He stared.

"Wait. Aren't you the guy who always comes in, gets tea, and sits in the window over there and reads romance novels?" Damian asked, eying him appraisingly.

The dude huffed. "Yes. My name is Jason--by the way--and they're not romance novels, it's classic lit. Now can I get my coffee?"

Damian handed the coffee over the counter, but raised an eyebrow skeptically. "You mean to tell me Rebecca is not a romance novel?"

"Wait, what!? Do you mean Daphne du Maurier's Rebecca?" Tim asked as he handed Jason's ID card back over the counter.

Damian nodded wordlessly. Tim snorted, then said, "That's not a romance! That's a totally a murder mystery! You must be confusing it with Jane Eyre. I get those mixed up too."

Jason nodded in agreement, tucking his ID away before taking his first sip of coffee. He moaned, his eyes fluttering for a moment as he savored in the sweet bliss of piping hot caffeine at 3:49 in the morning, then he looked at Damian and said, "Well, actually, I'll give you that one, uh…" --he paused to squint at Damian's name tag-- "...'Damian'; Rebecca is a modern romance novel by classification, but it's also a crime thriller just like--whazzatsay?--'Tim' said."

He turned to Tim. "I'm not surprised you'd confuse it with Jane Eyre, considering that a lot of scholars believe du Maurier adapted it from Jane Eyre."

"Wait, really?" Tim said with a laugh. "I'm glad I'm not the only one thinking that! Rebecca is like the less boring version of Jane Eyre."

Jason froze halfway into sitting down in one of the arm chairs that lined the wall closest to the door and looked up at Tim as if he had just suggested burning down the library or something similarly unthinkable. "Whaaaaaat?! I can't believe you just implied that any of the Brontë sisters' works is boring!"

Tim laughed again. "I mean, don't get me wrong, I was only twelve when I read Jane Eyre, so maybe I'd enjoy it more if I read it again now--with a mature perspective--but I remember Rebecca being a blast for thirteen-year-old me so…" He smiled, then shrugged.

Jason stared. "Twelve? Thirteen? Jeez. What else were you trying to read that young?"

"I mean, I read Moby Dick the year before that, in sixth grade," Tim admitted, shrugging until his shoulders hit his ears.

Jason gave him a flat stare. "Moby Dick? Moby fucking Dick? You've gotta be kidding me. And lemme guess, you also thought Herman Melville's masterpiece was a load of crock?"

Tim laughed, but shook his head and waved his hands placatingly. "No, no, no. I only understood, like, every fifth word--so.many.whaling.terms!--and it took me four months to get halfway in only to realize there was no way I was going to finish it by the end of the school year--I ended up skipping to the end and guessing for a lot of the AR test questions--but I definitely got the sense that it was a seminal work and that I was just too young to appreciate it. I've always meant to go back and try it again, but I still haven't gotten around to it."

"Why the hell were you trying to read Moby Dick at the age of twelve?" Jason asked incredulously, leaning back in the chair and taking a long sip of his coffee.

"Eleven, but, ah, well, my mom was convinced I had to be The BestTM in everything, so she pushed me to max out my Accelerated Reader level by the end of sixth grade and demanded that I always get the most AR points of anyone in my class, so I read a lot of the 20 point-and-up books." Tim tapped his chin thoughtfully. "I think Moby Dick was 47 points...Rebecca was 25...Jane Eyre was 33..."

Jason stared, shaking his head slowly. "So…what? You're fine with Moby Dick, a romance of the American Renaissance, but a gothic romance of the British Victorian era like Jane Eyre isn't good enough for you? Next you'll try to tell me you think Wuthering Heights is a snooze fest!"

"Well, I mean, I never could get into it, so…"

Jason slammed both hands down on the arms of his chair, incensed. "Okay, Mister, get your butt over here and sit down, we need to have a talk about Victorian Gothic and why, hands down, it is some of the best literature ever written."

Tim laughed again, then bit his lip, considering the offer. He glanced around the nearly empty coffee shop. Then he leaned over the counter and looked out into the lounge--there were exactly four people there and only one of them wasn't completely asleep in their books. Yeah, he could probably afford to humor the man.

He turned to Damian. "Hey, Dames, I'm going to make myself a coffee and take my break. You good to hold down the fort?"

"I told you not to call me that," Damian snapped, but there was no real heat to it; he liked to pretend that he hated the guts of all his coworkers, but Tim knew that he was Damian's favorite. "However, yes, I think I can manage. Go take your damned break, but when you come back I fully expect a rematch in bowling…and don't you dare cheat this time!"

Tim rolled his eyes and groaned, then turned toward trying to coax Ol' 'Spressolino--their affectionate name for the cantankerous espresso machine--into spitting out a double-shot for him. "It's not cheating, but fine, we'll do it your way," Tim replied. "But I'm telling you, you have to buy those rice crispy balls. I definitely don't want to have to explain to Barbara why some of the food on sale looks like it went through the spin cycle in a dorm washer."

Damian grinned smugly. "My pleasure. It will be a small price to pay in order to ensure your swift defeat."

Tim shook his head, grabbed his espresso in one hand and two biscotti off the front counter in the other, ducked under the counter drawbridge, then slid into the armchair across from Jason. He offered one of the biscotti to the other man and Jason accepted the free food with an appreciative smile. He already looked ten times less zombie-like, thanks to the caffiene, and he was honestly pretty damn attractive.

"Okay," Tim said, peeling the wrapper off his own biscotti and dunking it into his bitter cup of joy, "Educate me."

Between sips of coffee and bites of biscotti, Jason began explaining his thoughts on the romantic period of literature, but barely a minute into his lecture, a plastic-wrapped, ball-shaped rice crispy treat about the size of a cantelope whizzed by their feet and crashed into the ten extra-large paper coffee cups arranged in a bowling triangle at one end of the coffee shop, scattering them in a definitive strike.

Jason jumped in his seat and looked around wildly. "What the fuck?"

Tim sighed. "Daaaaaaamiaaaaaaan…"

"Shut up, Drake! I'm practicing. I need to hone my skills and adjust my form so I can thoroughly crush you in our next round," Damian called back. He marched from the counter to the end of the shop to retrieved his plastic-wrapped projectile.

Jason blinked in confusion. "I repeat: what the ever-loving fuck?"

Tim sighed again, then explained, saying, "It gets pretty boring in here during the graveyard shift, so we invented a game, coffee cup bowling. Normally, we'd sleep or study, but Damian finished his exams two days ago and I don't really study for exams, per se-"

"And sleep is for the weak," Damian finished, nodding as he walked past them carrying his sweet, gooey ammunition.

Tim nodded sagely, in agreement. "Sleep is for the weak."

Jason glanced over Tim's shoulder at the coffee cup bowling 'pins' and then over his shoulder at Damian as he lined up another throw. "You guys are insane," he declared.

Tim made a dismissive gesture. "I mean this is my third graveyard shift in a row and Damian here is almost 20 hours into a 24-hour stint. After that much sleep deprivation, you'd lose your sanity too."

Jason tilted his head in acknowledgement. "Fair enough."

"If you want, you're welcome to join us after we finish our coffee and literature talk," Tim offered amiably.

Jason watched as Damian threw another strike, sending one cup so far it landed in the pot of the ficus in the corner, and raised his eyebrows. "You know what…why not." He turned back to Tim with a grin. "I could use a bit of fun before I go back to work on my Native American Lit paper."

"Are you a lit major?" Tim asked curiously.

"I am."

Tim nodded. "That makes sense."

"And you?"

"I'm a CS major--computer science."

"That makes sense," Jason echoed, grinning.

Tim grinned back at him and waved a hand. "Okay, so as you were saying…?"

"Yes, as I was saying…"

Jason continued his little lecture while they continued sipping their coffee and nibbling on the biscotti. When they had finished--the coffee, not the discussion, because Tim was pretty sure Jason would go on for hours about literature once you got him started--they joined Damian in a game of "ten-cup."

It was in the middle of this heated battle of cups and marshmallow-bonded puffed-rice cereal balls that their next customer found them fifteen minutes later. The man, dressed in flower printed leggings and a black hoodie with "Gotham University Aerial Arts" printed across the chest in blue, took one look at them and grinned.

"Oh, hey! Coffee-cup bowling! I love that game! Do you think I could interrupt you guys for just a sec to get some hot chocolate?"

All three of them--the two baristas plus their customer--turned and stared.

"Hot… wait, what?" Jason said, laughing a little. "Man, it's like 4:30 in the morning. Why are you getting a hot chocolate at 4:30 in the morning?"

The man laughed, too, shrugging before he explained, saying, "I don't like tea or coffee all that much, but I just finished a 20 page paper on ethics in police enforcement and I need a pick me up. I need to get my warm fuzzies going again."

Tim rolled his eyes and sighed, moving back toward the counter to get the man his drink. "You're going to end up being the cuddliest cop on the street, Dick."

"You know it, Timmy!" the man--'Dick' apparently--exclaimed, pulling Tim into a bear hug when he made the mistake of passing too close to Dick on his way to the counter. The hug escalated into a full on octopus hug as he lifted his legs to wrap around Tim's hips. Tim, for his part, ignored the grapple, opening the leaf in the counter and hobbling over to the drink bar with the human cephalopod still attached.

Damian and Jason stared. Damian cleared his throat and eyed Dick with poorly disguised interest. "Wait, do you know this man, Drake?"

Tim blinked dully as he turned around, a cup in one hand and a packet of instant hot chocolate in the other. "Yes. He's my brother." Dick made a squeeing noise and nuzzled his head into Tim's neck. Tim sighed. "My adopted brother," he amended testily.

Dick laughed, dropped his feet back onto the floor and stood up. He nearly wrung Tim's neck as he tried to hug him around the shoulders. "Awww, don't be like that, Tim. We haven't seen each other in two whole weeks and I needed my Tim-hugs! Gotta meet my cuddle-quota."

Tim shook his head and handed the hot chocolate back over his shoulder. "You're insufferably, insatiably clingy when you're this tired, Dick. Go home and sleep."

Dick finally released him to take the drink. He took a sip of the hot chocolate, sighing in appreciation. "Thanks, Tim, and yeah, but, only if you do the same. You're just as bad as me when you haven't slept, if not worse."

"Can't. Working," Tim answered curtly, vaulting the counter to escape before Dick's grabby hands could reach for him again. His brother wasn't wrong; Tim was always up for a good cuddle after a long stint without proper sleep, but he didn't like public displays of affection.

Dick took one look at the nearly empty coffee shop, the three of them, their game, and then laughed out loud. "Ahhh, the days of getting paid to drink coffee and make up games at 4:30 in the morning. I kind of miss it."

"Would you care to join us," Damian asked abruptly. Dick brightened.

"Absolutely!"

And so that was how the four of them ended up bowling for empty coffee cups with rice crispy treats the size of spaghetti squash while blasting ABBA’s greatest hits--Dick's terrible, wonderful idea--until the sun rose and their shift ended, at eight AM.

By the time the four of them walked out the door, Dick was trying to convince Damian to join him in the aerials gym before breakfast, and Damian, clearly eager to do anything with the handsome college senior, accepted readily. Jason and Tim, on the other hand, were back to discussing literature over coffee--now focused on the merits and downfalls of contemporary science fiction and fantasy as an art form--and making their way to the East Campus Dining Hall, so they could continue their discussion over breakfast.

Tim snorted softly as he listened to Jason list all the ways Dune defined an era of sci-fi/fantasy, then smiled at the way Jason took his hand--without seeming to realize it--to pull him forward after the crosswalk light changed out of Tim's line of sight. Oh, yeah, this one was totally gay/bi/pan and he was definitely asking him out the minute he saw the opportunity, Tim decided.

He smiled. Who would of thought he'd come out of last night's graveyard shift not only having seen his demon coworker and his older brother hit it off--of all things!--but having met someone for himself too! He laughed, thinking, you never know what crazy things you might see, or the people you might meet, at the campus coffee shop at 4 o' clock in the morning!

[3laxx]

When the Dream ends - Chapter 1

Amity changed in the little bathroom that was attached to the room, before emerging and deadpanning at Luz giggling. “This isn’t funny.” “It’s a little funny!”

---

After the grudgby accident, Luz begins her recovery, Amity gets a bad case of the Gay Panic TM and everyone adjusts to the grueling reality of how badly accidents can actually go.

Read "In Your Dreams" first as Part 1, since this is Part 2!

I decided to cut the short story "In Your Dreams" where I originally intended to and finish it off there, and just put it into a series and put all following headcanons in here! This story is also rated mature because I will write flashbacks of the accident, so I'll eventually even change it to explicit. But yeah! Have fun reading!

Ao3 / FF.net

---

The next day, Amity and Luz only woke up late.

But Amity wouldn’t care. She only snuggled closer to the other girl and felt Luz nuzzling her nose into her hair, smiling. She didn’t know if humans usually kept friendships as physically close, but she didn’t mind as well. After all, she was just glad that she could snuggle with Luz that way. It felt so different than when the twins messed with her or took her into hugs.

Snuggling.

She had never done that yet, honestly. She had never snuggled like that. This was completely new for her, especially for a few hours. The longest she had touched someone was for a few minutes, maybe ten at most. She didn’t even think she had touched anyone for that long when she had been a baby witchling.

Luz slowly moved around a little, then she looked up to her friend and smiled when their eyes met.

“Hey, slept well?”

“Better than ever.”, Amity admitted before sitting up and stretching, earning a jealous gaze from Luz. She had been told not to move too much yet, so she had to stay put and wasn’t allowed to stretch. Amity gave her a sympathetic glance but Luz quickly brightened up again. And lifted her hand.

“Poke!”, she exclaimed and bopped Amity’s exposed tummy with her finger, causing the young witchling to immediately turn bright red again and topple backward and off the bed, yelping loudly before a loud thud sounded.

Luz winced and rolled over to look where Amity had fallen, meeting the witch’s tomato face and her arms frozen all over the place when she furrowed her eyebrows.

“… Sorry… I didn’t think you’d react so extremely. Are you okay?”

“Yep!”, Amity responded a little too loudly, laughing nervously, “I’m alright, everything is okay!”

Luz smiled as Amity got back up, but when the witchling’s gaze fell back on the clock she yelped again.

“My parents are going to kill me! I can’t even go to school late now, I’m in my pajamas!! What do I do?!”

Luz, still lying on the bed, groaned when she rolled back over and looked up to the panicking girl, grimacing.

“You could text Eda and ask her to sneak you into the manor?”

Amity switched from panic to planning and nodded, “Right, right. I can do that.”

“Or you could just skip.”, Luz grinned, then Amity looked up at her.

“But I never skip.”, the girl furrowed her eyebrows and summoned her scroll phone, huffing, “And Boscha is returning today, I wanna talk to her.”

“Okay, yeah, that’s valid.”, Luz began and tried to sit up but quickly, a short pain rippled through her back and she fell back into the sheets with a grimace, causing Amity to look up and make the scroll phone vanish with a poof.

“Luz! Are you okay? Eda told me not to let you get up!”, she quickly exclaimed and rushed to her friend’s side, putting a hand on Luz’s shoulder to keep her down, “Are you insane?! The healers said your spine was severely injured and you try to sit up?!”

Maybe her tone was a little too harsh, or the pain overwhelmed Luz, but Amity stopped immediately when tears appeared in the Latina’s eyes. She hesitated.

Oh no.

“Luz, I didn’t mean-…”, she started, but her friend shook her head, effectively cutting her off, “I-I’m sorry…”

The teenager took some time to breathe again, then she placed a soft hand on hers that Amity still kept on her shoulder, not wanting her to move again.

“I-It’s fine-… Just let me breathe for a moment…”, she finally winced and kept her eyes closed, her breath coming in pants, “D-Don’t be sorry. I’ll be okay.”

She slowly calmed down again, then she sighed. Amity knew immediately that school was off for her today. Luz was in pain and needed her, and she wouldn’t just go.

With one hand she summoned her scroll phone again and texted Boscha to let her know that Luz was awake and would be okay with her visiting, and Willow and Gus to invite them over for the afternoon. Eda was probably already on her way.

“Just keep it down for now, Luz. It’ll get better again. You just need some time.”

The girl slowly felt the pain subsiding and nodded once more, then Amity focused back on her phone to ask the twins to send her some clothes, and sure enough, their skills in Illusions were unparalleled. A few clothes were immediately delivered to her by an illusion of a delivery boy by Emira, who had snuck into the manor, grabbed some of her clothes, and ran to the Healer’s Coven unseen by her parents.

Amity changed in the little bathroom that was attached to the room, before emerging and deadpanning at Luz giggling.

“This isn’t funny.”

“It’s a little funny!”

The witchling rolled her eyes when she sat back down on the chair next to Luz’s bed, trying to slump so Luz wouldn’t be able to mock her but the girl gestured for her to straighten up again, “No, no, lemme see!”

She should’ve never trusted Ed and Em with getting her new clothes. Of course, they’d pick the most embarrassing stuff they could find. In this case, it was an old hoodie Ed had given her as a present for her 12th birthday. At least they had picked some normal orchid leggings.

Amity groaned when she straightened up again and pulled the hoodie so that Luz could read what was on there. Ed had gone all the way to make a print of a very badly drawn Amity holding a peace sign.

“Simply be witchling?!”, Luz giggled and Amity couldn’t deny the tiny blush she felt when she looked away and pursed her lips, “Whose idea was that? That is horrible!”

Groaning, she slumped again and rolled her eyes.

“Ed’s. He’s been bugging me to wear that hoodie for almost 3 years now.”, Luz still grinned, making Amity’s face go completely red, “Another word and I’ll leave right now!”

Luz didn’t need any words, though, making the girl squirm and sigh exasperatedly, crossing her arms.

“Stop. Don’t do that.”

“Don’t do what?”, Luz smirked at her, the grin still not having left her face. She couldn’t deny Luz being extra adorable right now.

“Don’t stare at my hoodie. You’re just being mean right now.”

Before Luz could say something soothing, though, Eda barged in and the playful banter was forgotten.

“Hey, kid! I’m glad you’re feeling better!”

King hurried after Eda and jumped on Luz’s bed, before curling in on Luz’s stomach.

“I didn’t worry about you at all.”, he stated and Luz laughed, ruffling his fur.

“Of course not, King.”

It wasn’t long until Willow and Gus came to visit as well, telling them that Boscha had looked a little tired in school but was okay otherwise. She just didn’t want to visit yet. They assured Luz, though, that Boscha was going to be fine and that she just didn’t want to rush things.

After all, she had taken it pretty bad that she had hurt Luz that way.

 After Willow and Gus had left, Amity was just finishing up her homework that Willow and Gus had picked up from a classmate, and Eda and King packed their things up as well.

Luz’s eyes went wide at that, and she almost sat up again but remembered the pain before, so she stayed put.

“Eda, are you going back to the Owl House?”

Her mentor grimaced at that and shrugged, nodding.

“I wanna sleep in my nest, kid. I’ve been here for the last few days, I really need my house back now, especially since you’re awake and okay again.”

The human pouted at that and shook her head, “But Eda, I don’t wanna be alone tonight!”

The older witch deadpanned at that, but the two teenagers could see she was struggling to leave her apprentice alone.

“Kid, you’ll be fine for the night, I’m sure.”, Eda began, then a sinister look snuck into her eyes, “You could ask the Blight kid to stay.”

In an instant, Amity blushed hard again.

“I-I already stayed a night! My parents will kill me anyway, for skipping school! I shouldn’t, really.”

Luz’s puppy eyes weren’t enough to make her reconsider, her parents’ wrath was scarier than Luz was cute. In fact, she should call the twins right now to be picked up.

While Eda and Luz continued discussing, she summoned her scroll phone and called Edric’s phone. Shortly after, her brother picked up.

“Hi, Edric. Could you come to pick me up at the Healer’s Coven? It’s already after dark…”

Her brother lightly chuckled at that, then he seemed to whisper something with Emira, before answering.

“What do you mean, Mittens? You’re already home.”

“Hah hah, very funny.”, Amity rolled her eyes at her sibling’s antics, “Come pick me up now, mother and father will be furious enough that I skipped school today.”

Again, her brother’s voice seemed too innocent for her liking when he replied.

“But you went to school today, Mittens, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

This was getting on her nerves.

“Edric, I’m serious, you doofus. Hand the phone to Em.”

He did as she had instructed him to, but Emira sounded just like their brother, making Amity’s anger boil.

“Hey Mittens, I’d say a thank you would be fitting now, don’t you think?”

“Don’t play dumb with me. What did you two do?”, Emira and Edric chuckled again in the background and Amity growled.

“We only saved your nerd butt, little sister! Thank us tomorrow when you’re done flirting with Luz. Oh, and greet that cutie from us! We’re very glad she’s okay.”

Suddenly, she understood her siblings’ smugness. Oh no, that’d be expensive for her.

“… What do you want for the Illusion spell?”

Again, the twins laughed at each other, as if they had a sinister plan. In fact, they sounded exactly like Eda had looked.

“For you to become cool and bring home a girlfriend. And now be a dear and go to bed, like your Illusion just did.”

A click later, Amity almost felt like fainting from all the blood shooting into her face. These smug demons. She turned back to Eda and Luz who were still arguing about whether to leave King here or not when they noticed her having stopped calling. For some reason, Eda smirked.

“My siblings are little snakes and make me stay here.”

“How come?”, Luz asked, looking surprised. She was so sweet and naïve, Amity almost had to sigh.

“They created an Illusion of me so mother and father wouldn’t find out about me sneaking out last night. They kept it up the whole day and it’s in my bed right now.”

Eda chuckled.

“Your siblings are geniuses. I would’ve liked to be able to do that in school.”, she finally admitted and Amity only blushed in a deeper shade of red, while Luz lightened up.

“That means you can stay the whole night?”, she already smiled and Amity just couldn’t stay mad at her siblings. She knew they were just helping in their own, smug way.

“Yea, I suppose it means exactly that.”, she exchanged a small smile with Luz. This was going to be fine, right? She would be fine. She had done one night already! She could do a second!

Eda put all the stuff she had needed to stay here for an extended time in a bag and swung it on Owlbert who was ready in the air.

“Well then, you kids stay out of trouble. Don’t have any fun without me. And you-”, she glared at Luz, “Stay in bed.”

Both of them nodded and waited until Eda had finally wrestled King onto her staff and flown away, then Amity turned back to Luz who was already grinning in excitement.

“Azura Book Club?”, she asked and Amity had to smile at that.

“I forgot Book 5 here when I visited yesterday, we can read that!”

Luz pumped a fist in the air but immediately yelped and let it sink slowly again, causing Amity to drop her small bag that she had originally packed to be picked up, and rush to her side.

“Are you okay?”, she asked, her eyes filling with worry, “Luz, you gotta mind how you move, we want you to get better…”

The Latina nodded slowly, then she sighed and rubbed her shoulder, before testing her toes again. She could still feel them, it had just been a little scare.

“Yeah, I know… Still, I’d like to sit up.”

Amity deadpanned.

“Did you even listen to what I literally just said?”, she asked exasperatedly, spreading her arms in a gesture as if to ask why. Luz managed a strained smile.

“I’ve been on my back the entire time since I woke up… Amity, I just wanna sit for a moment, otherwise I’ll die here. Can you help me?”

Amity flinched at the phrasing and bit her lip. She didn’t know enough about humans. Did they really die when lying on their bed for too long?

“W-Would you-… Really die?”

Luz rolled her eyes at that but smiled, then she shook her head, not wanting to upset her.

“No, I wouldn’t actually die. It’s just an expression. But I’d still like to sit up. Can you prop up your frame here, like back home?”

Amity nodded and got behind the bed, then she grabbed the lever to unhinge the frame so she could prop it up, but hesitated to pull it.

“Are you sure that you can’t get more hurt through that? Like, 100%, absolutely positively sure?”

Luz nodded and looked at her upside down.

“I am otterly sure.”, then she grinned.

Amity shook her head at that, sighing, “You’re unbelievable. Okay, you stay on the mattress until I propped you up as far as it goes, and then you wait for me to help you sit, okay?”

Luz nodded again, this time staying silent at her words. She seemed to concentrate.

“As soon as you feel pain, let me know.”

With that, Amity pulled the lever to unhinge the bedframe and slowly propped it up before clicking it into place at the highest option, then she secured the lever again and walked to Luz’s side to see the girl leaning against the propped-up mattress with a smile.

“That’s already way better. And technically, I’ll do what Eda said, stay in bed.”

Then she slowly lifted her hands, asking Amity to come closer with grabby hands.

“And now help me up.”

The young witchling sighed, then she let her eyes wander over the human’s face. There were no signs of hidden pain. She didn’t seem to be in pain. Apparently, as far as moving her body carefully was concerned, she was okay. But Amity wasn’t too sure about Luz using her own muscles yet.

On the other hand, she had already rolled over without feeling pain.

“Okay. But we do this slowly and as soon as you feel bad, we stop, you got that?”, Luz still made the grabby hands and Amity sighed then, nodding.

She sat down by Luz’s side to carefully wrap an arm around her waist, careful to squish the mattress and not move Luz’s spine too much, before feeling Luz gingerly wrap her arm around her shoulders and them joining their free hands in front of them. It almost felt like when Luz and she had danced at Grom.

“Okay, slowly, on three. One… Two… Three.”

Amity softly pressed her up with her shoulder, taking care not to move or bend her spine too much and minding her back to stay straight, and she pulled with her hand in Luz’s.

Luz panted and sweat formed on her forehead, but she didn’t make a sound when she sat up and finally let their arms sink, still leaning heavily onto Amity but managing to keep her straight back by herself.

For a moment, Luz looked around, then she turned back to Amity, who only then noticed how close they were to each other. Spluttering, she blushed deeply, before coughing and blinking a little too fast.

“A-Are you in pain?”, she finally managed and Luz made a wavy hand. She didn’t know what that meant.

“A little. But it’s fine! That’s just how it feels like to sit after some time of lying in bed. Wow, I am so glad to be sitting right now, I really need that.”, Luz immediately brabbled and the witchling couldn’t help but smile at that.

“Are you sure you wanna stay like that?”

Luz began sweating. So, she was in more pain than she would’ve liked to admit. Amity frowned and brought her free hand up to Luz’s shoulder to get her attention as Luz rested her head on hers.

“Luz, I really think you should lie down.”, she began but the girl groaned and shook her head.

“Just another moment. I-… I’ve been so sick of not moving, I just wanna-…”, another groan. That was the end of the line for Amity.

“Hold on, I’m helping you back down.”

Luz whined at that but she wouldn’t let her talk her out of this. She had to lie back down since her body wasn’t ready for moving too much yet.

Her face was a little more ashen when she sank into the covers and Amity wanted to pull her arm out but Luz kept her close.

“Just-… Just for right now. Stay. Just for this moment.”, the human panted, the sweat slowly subsiding, leaving her skin cooling out.

“Luz-”

“… Just a moment.”, the girl interrupted her and began breathing slower again, much to Amity’s relief. The color slowly returned to her face and she leaned against her friend, completely exhausted, “I just want this moment.”

Amity sighed and let her head rest against her cheek, then she slowly brushed a moist strand of hair out of her face and kissed her forehead.

In an instant, she froze up, while Luz hummed.

She had not just done that. After watching so many teen romances with Luz, the gesture had stuck with her, but she never thought it’d come to her so naturally. While sitting next to Luz, her arm trapped beneath the girl’s back, half lying, leaning against the mattress, holding her exhausted friend. This had been completely reflexive. Amity slowly pulled back when Luz frowned, huffing.

“Why’d you stop, I liked that-…”, she drawled, more asleep than she was awake by now. Amity, her face now a blaring red, merely gave her a neutral hum and then carefully pulled her arm out to lower the bed back down. By the time Luz was horizontal again, she had regained some of her consciousness to look at Amity.

“Can I get a goodnight kiss like that every night now?”, she asked, her eyes dazed and her words slurring. Amity wordlessly sat down on the chair, opened Azura Book 5, and cleared her throat to begin reading, still shocked from her action and desperately trying to ignore that ever happened but Luz made it clear that she was not interested in making her life easy, “Please?”

Amity concealed another splutter with a cough, then she nodded at her lap, not daring to look up. The book was right in front of her eyes. She could just start reading as she read to the kids, and everything would be forgotten, but once again when she breathed in, Luz picked that exact moment to make her life even harder.

“Thank you…”

Amity finally looked up to meet her gaze and her friend genuinely smiled. The young witchling shyly smiled back before starting to read Chapter 12.

“But the good witch Azura wouldn’t stand down. She had her ally Hecate by her side and she would fight for the good. ‘So be it!’, she called out, ‘If you refuse to leave, we wi-”

“‘If you refuse to leave, we will make you regret that decision!’, and Hecate nodded in agreement.”, Amity rolled her eyes softly, smiling. Luz could recite the book word by word.

“If you want to read?”

But as she had asked that question, Luz had already fallen asleep. Shaking her head, Amity leaned back, adjusted the book, and started anew.

“‘If you refuse to leave, we will make you regret that decision’, and Hecate nodded in agreement. They readied their staffs and-”

---

Let me know if you liked the continuation!

[black-streak]

Waiting for the Worms - Hey You

Part 15

I had planned to be so much further in the plot by this chapter and yet here we are. I don't want to say this is a filler chapter, because the reunion of the team and all is important but like, nothing exciting happens here. Very tame. Don't expect anything crazy. That's next chapter.

Special thanks to @cassiopeiathequeen for reading this over for me when I second guessed if I should even post this one or not.

CLOSED list of dinner specials (I'm tired, shush): @northernbluetongue @thethirdwheelfriend @shizukiryuu @theatreandcomicfreak @michellemagic @karategirl119 @moonlightstar64 @my-name-is-michell @mystery-5-5 @zalladane @queen-of-the-trash-planet-tm @miraculousdisapointment @dorkus-minimus @jardimazul @allthebooksandcrannies @g-arya @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @persephonescat @mycupisbroken @luciferge @18-fandoms-unite-08 @dawnwave16 @alwaysreblogneverpost @kris-pines04 @mysteriouslyswimmingfan-blo-blog @weird-pale-blonde-person @you-will-never-know-how-i-think @kokotaru @naclychilli @slytherinhquinn @clumsy-owl-4178 @ladybug-182 @darkthunder1589 @evil-elf16 @dast218 @lysslovsanime @emilytopaz @naoryllis @iloontjeboontje @thepeacetea @danielslilangel @finallyaniguana @i-like-fairytail-and-stuff @vixen-uchiha @yuulxd @bleeding-heart-romantic @magic-inthe-stars @st0rmy-w1th1n

~---~

It took a moment for anyone to move, all still looking back and forth between Jason and her, as though unsure how to proceed.

While they took their sweet time figuring it out, Damian glanced at Jason, then back to her, "I see what you meant now. This will take time to adjust to."

"Oh?" She inquired, a quirk to her eyebrow.

"I keep looking to him, but that isn't correct, is it? It's annoying to think I might accidentally treat him as I treat you just because his flesh prison is the one I am accustomed to."

"Would that be so terrible?" She offered, face barely hinting at amusement.

"Yes."

Chuckling, she drew him closer into her lap where he allowed himself to huddle close, turning to watch the masses once more.

Jason, a state of content shock, kept their hands tightly bound, watching the two before him interact with such ease. Meanwhile the others only just now found the nerve to move fully into the living room, very aware of the two sets of eyes observing them. One pair, they thought they were used to, had seen almost everyday for years, but the glow to them was different. Electric green seemed to spark through the vivid blue, dangerous and wild. 

Kagami never felt fear as a civilian, especially after having been a superhero for so long. Had never felt threatened or like an easy target, but those eyes on her suddenly made her feel like prey in the sights of a killer. The dark green eyes set below only added to this.

Juleka couldn't explain how on edge the little boy put her. His hardened eyes never strayed from their little group, harsh and judging. No child should be so intimidating or coiled so tight, as though to pounce. The protective arms wrapped around him seemed less for their safety, but rather hinted at more than one opponent should things go downhill.

Marc suddenly had a new idea for a story about a lone wolf and her wolf cub, living in the wilderness, avoiding conflict but capable of taking down even the mightiest of warriors. They could wager a guess where that idea came from as they stood behind the armchair Kagami placed herself in, Chloe sitting on the arm of it, Juleka sitting on the carpet between her feet.

As for Chloe, she simply stared at who she could only assume was Jason. That tall, ridiculously muscled man, with his white streak and swimming teal eyes was who they had fought alongside so long? How in the hell did he pull off a tiny little teenage girl for so long? How old was this guy even to have such a scarred, built body? What had Mari been through in her time as him? She couldn't help it, she needed to know.

"Jason, how old are you?"

He startled in his seat, turning to look at her, "uh, well I was a year older than her, so eighteen, I guess."

"Seventeen and a half," Marinette corrected.

"But he said-"

"You don't continue aging in a dead body."

She answered so matter of fact, so flippantly, they fell silent once more. Kagami was the first to regain her bearings.

"Must you be so blunt about it?"

Those eyes swung to focus in on her, sharp with challenge, "Why not?"

Chloe rose to it first, "Because it hurts okay? Your acting like it means nothing, but it does. It hurts-!" 

"Like a crowbar to the face?" She cut in, a dark little smile twisting her face as the green seemed to flash in her eyes.

Damian snickered at the playful jab, adding on, "Such cutting words, Mari, how do they compare to the autopsy?

"Like a gentle caress, little one," her grin becoming more wicked as she nuzzled the top of his head. Right then the hand she forgot was gripping her own became nearly crushing as it shook.

"Fucking hell, Mari," his voice rattled out and as her head jerked in his direction, she saw his crumpled expression break into a broken laugh. He ran his free hand through his hair, "I only found out you were alive an hour ago, could we maybe hold off on the morbid humor?"

"Hey, that means I was alive two and a half more years than you thought though," she attempted to comfort him.

"Yeah? And how were those two years spent?" He snarked back, though she could hear the desperation in his voice, begging to know why she hadn't come back sooner. Hadn't looked for him.

"Curbing my bloodlust," she easily replied, not outwardly reacting, eyes searching his for understanding. The flash of green in his own answered. 

He shook his head and nudged Damian, the boy instinctively moving at the nudge from a familiar hand and looking pissed upon realizing his mistake as he dropped onto the other end of the couch behind where Mari had ended up. Jason heeded him no mind as he pulled Marinette closer until she moved herself into his lap, letting herself marvel at how small she now was.

"Excuse me? Do we just not exist over here?" Chloe snapped into their little bubble.

"I wish," Damian muttered.

"Watch it brat."

"Chloe," Marinette growled out the warning.

The blonde teared up, "Mari, we're friends. You remember right?"

Sighing, she clamped down on the anger, "Of course I remember. Please try to refrain from calling him names though," swiveling towards Damian, who had started smirking, she snapped him out of it, "And Damian, learn tolerance. More people will be entering our lives now and we'll have to navigate around those the other chooses to associate with." He hunched in on himself at her reprimand.

"She lashed out at you. Her feelings about your death are not your fault."

"They aren't, but I also have zero tact about the topic of my demise. Maybe I cannot be blamed for her feelings over my dying, but I could control how hurtful my words are. Then she wouldn't have felt the need to lash out, just as you wouldn't. I won't become more tactful and I'll understand if she doesn't wish to talk to me because of it, but I could have," she turned back to Chloe with that, noticing the contemplative look to some, sadness to others. Jason simply looked like he understood and sympathized.

"So how exactly did this group come to be?"

"It took less than two months for Jason to fire Chat," Juleka spoke up, gripping Kagami's calf from her spot on the floor, purposefully drawing attention to the person she held, " choose her as the new black cat."

"Fair enough, and the rest are holders as well, I presume?"

At this moment, kwamis began to reveal themselves, Longg peeking out of Chloe's bag, Trixx popping out of Marc's hoodie, Mullo showing off their spot amongst Juleka's hair. Tikki eventually floated out of Kagami's blazer, looking at her with forlorn, yet hopeful eyes.

Feeling a purr start up against her neck, she twisted to look up at Jason.

"You two switched?"

"We switch often," Kagami spoke here, cradling Tikki who sat her palm holding back tears at the lack of reaction given, "good for confusing the enemy. They never knew which of us it was until the fighting style gave it away."

"It also became necessary due to my not being a very good fit for Tikki despite my body being the proper match," Jason cut in here.

"Juleka and I switch often as well. Fits us better that way."

"I stay the same, but I have three different forms, so I suppose it's fair," Chloe added.

"And Hawkmoth?"

"Gone. We ended it about a year or so ago," Jason reassured.

Only then did a tiny, happy smile slip onto her face, lightening the atmosphere and allowing everyone in the room to relax.

"Tikki? I've missed you sweetie bug," Mari cooed, the little goddess perking up and launching herself forward into the other side of her neck to cuddle close.

"Mari? I'm so happy you're alive! I missed you so much, you don't even know!" Tikki sniffled then immediately begin to scold her, "don't you ever pull a stunt like that on me again, do you hear? I can't lose you again."

"I know, I'm sorry. I cannot promise that."

"What does that mean?!"

"I might not have known I would die in that moment, but I would do so again," she looked over to Jason now, "I would take that hit again without hesitation. And I'm sure my life being threatened isn't going to suddenly stop. I will however do everything within my abilities to prevent another unnecessary death." 

The kwami gave a little huffy sniffle and ducked back into her neck once more, as Kagami gave a cough. "Don't worry, I have no intention of taking back your miraculous. You fit Tikki quite nicely from what I can tell."

"You.. Don't want me back?" Tikki spoke up.

"It's not that I wouldn't like to have you back by my side, but tell me truthfully Tik. Looking into my soul, could you see me being able to use your miraculous?"

The kwami deflated once more at that, knowing her to be right. At that moment, she felt a small hand softly tap her back before reaching up by her neck and slowly cupping the sleepy cat resting there. Sitting perfectly still until Plagg had been completely extracted, she turned to watch Damian slowly pet the God, the surprisingly docile kwami watching the boy out of the slits of his eyes. 

"What is he?" Damian looked to her, wide eyed and curious.

Chloe spoke up, trying to amend the static from earlier, "He's a kwami. They're like pocket sized Gods, bonded to pieces of jewelry. The person who wears that jewelry is granted the ability to use the corresponding kwami's power. His name is Plagg and he's the kwami of Destruction."

Damian nodded along, eyes filled with wonder as the others took turns introducing the other kwamis in the room, Tikki joining them as Plagg floated back over to Mari. For her part, Mari relaxed further as the others became purposefully distracted so as not to overwhelm each other any further, while also keeping Damian occupied.

Turning to greet Plagg, she offered a considering look, "You were on my person in the cafe."

He nodded.

"You adjusted my aim during the attack."

"You were going to kill them," he tensed up, tone defensive.

"I know."

"Marinette-"

"I'm glad you stopped me. They were not lives that needed taken."

"You've changed so much," the cat kwami sounded remorseful and desolate, taking her in, soul and all. 

"I have. You still love me though?"

"Course I do, sweetheart," the big green eyes teared up, never good at hiding his real feelings around her, especially now that he could see his own destruction magic in her soul and consuming Jason's body.

Taking a deep breath, she spoke out to the room, informing them that she'd be in the kitchen, making lunch. They all nodded in agreement, knowing they all needed the space to figure out their thoughts.

Jason followed her, "Mind if I join you?"

Turning around, knowing they no longer had an audience, she let her tears fall freely, speaking softly to not alert the others "Jay? This is real isn't it? You're really here?"

Holding her by the shoulders, he leaned down to meet her eyes, "shouldn't I be the one asking that?" He teased, smiling at her small laugh, "This is some surreal shit, isn't it?"

"Yeah," she choked out, rubbing her eye as she pushed forward and pressed her face to his chest, wrapping herself around him, feeling his arms hover a moment before pulling her in tight.

"You're being strong for him, aren't you?"

Grabbing his hand, she led him into the bedroom, closing the door softly, "He doesn't have anyone else, Jay. I'm sure he told you about the league?"

"Yeah, something like that."

"Didn't happen to mention what he was doing there, did he?

"He slipped a bit, but I'd rather hear it from you."

"Talia is his mother. She took me in so I could get him out. Trained me to be the perfect protector, gave me the means to leave, disconnected from him completely so he wouldn't argue. And of course I agreed. He was being abused, Jay. It was so terrible, the way they were raising him. But I don't know what I'm doing."

"I don't know, you seemed to be doing a pretty amazing job out there," he brushed tears off her face, still amazed that he could, "How do you want to handle this? With me having taken my body back. I'll follow your lead here."

"About that… You and I have joint custody."

"What?"

"Legally, you're his older brother, who adopted him after your parents died, since you were of age to do so. Marinette Todd is your wife who adopted him with you."

"Wh-why would you- I mean-?" He cut himself off, confused.

"Well I mean, I didn't think the connection would ever come back, but in case it did or if I felt it safe to find you. I didn't want to take a chance. We can go back and change them?"

"It's fine, just, how old did you make us to be married and able to adopt a child?"

"Well he's your brother, so the adoption part would be easy despite age, plus we forged documentation for cps check-ins for two years, so they won't be checking now."

"And how old does that make us?"

"You're twenty one and I'm twenty. We've been his legal parents since you turned nineteen. We married the year after I graduated high school. You looked old enough to pull it off and I wasn't sure what I looked like anymore but doubted anyone would look twice."

"Well alright then," he blinked, pulling her close again and setting his head on top of hers, "It's going to take a while to get used to being this tall," he admitted.

"How do you think I feel," she rested fully against him, blown away by the ability to lean on someone for once.

A knock sounded on the door and Damian peaked in, "Mari? You need to come see this."

[writingplotbunnies]

Best Served Cold (Part 9/?)

Pairing: Jax Teller x OFC

Summary: Jax and Sophie have a long overdue conversation, about everything.

Word Count: ~2800

Warnings: angst, illegal activity, possessive behavior, sexual content, canon typical violence

Pulling into the TM lot, Sophie saw Jax step out of the clubhouse. Happy rolled to a stop next to her. They didn’t say anything, but she read the look in his eyes. A familiar look she’d seen with the members of her teams over the years after something had gone sideways, when there was bad news to be conveyed. She nodded as he parked his bike with the others. Sophie slid from her car and walked past Jax who followed her into the clubhouse. She didn’t say anything as they walked down the hall to his dorm. 

Closing the door behind them, she paused, hand pressed against the wood. Gathering her thoughts she marveled at how she’d found herself here. If she believed in angels, she’d claim Olivia had taken over watching out for her - a certain knowing humor to her guidance. Behind her, Jax met her silence. His own filled with a banked frustration she could feel mounting. A sigh on her lips, Sophie reached for the hem of her shirt. Fisting the material in her hands, she tore the shirt over her head before she could rethink her choices. 

“Sophie.” 

Her name was an exhalation of breath from Jax. She could imagine his thoughts, could hear the way his desire for her warred with his irritation with her actions. 

“Count them.” 

“Sophie.”

“Count them, Teller.” 

Behind her, she heard the blanket shift against the sheets as Jax stood from the bed. His heat hit her back first, then his breath against her neck as he moved in close, crowding her against the door. His fingers against her skin shocked her nearly as much as Happy’s had. As he traced the outline of each petal, she shivered. 

“Twenty-nine,”Jax whispered. 

“That’s the number of confirmed kills I have. Zobelle is going to be number thirty.”

Gentle hands turned her to face him. She saw the confusion, the knowing look that united those who had shed blood. 

“The Marines made me a sniper. I’d killed people before I could legally order a beer. I’ve done a lot of things I’m not always proud of, but I figure a man like you would understand that better than most.” 

Sophie paused, felt the way Jax cradled her face in his hands.

“Babe - ”

She silenced him with a shake of her head. “I met with the Niners because I needed Laroy to get me a rifle. I knew the club was on good terms with them, so it seemed the best solution. We hadn’t started whatever this thing between us is when I set up the order. Laroy came through; I paid him. No blow back. Even came to an understanding about Happy showing up today.”

“Is that right?”

She ignored the skepticism, the slight accusation in his tone. Knew she’d earned at least that much from him. 

“Yeah, said he understood wanting to keep his woman safe. Happy said the same thing, well, said something about me being your Old Lady.” 

“You went behind my back.”

Flinching at the accusation, she shook her head. “No, I didn’t. I took a calculated risk that would have still been a risk if all you were to me is a cute mechanic who fixed my car. I won’t let you or the Sons get in my way, Jax.”

Jax leaned back, scrubbed a hand down his face. He wore an expression of pain, of exhaustion. 

“Zobelle is club business now. He went after Gemma and that doesn’t go unanswered.”

Sophie nodded. “Of course not. They need to pay for what they’ve done. But it’s not just club business, and you need to understand that.”  

“Don’t make me choose between you and the Club. Neither of us is gonna like how that goes.” 

Picking her shirt up, Sophie stalled for time as she put it back on. It made piss poor armor, but it was the best she had at the moment. She wanted to laugh at the quickly hidden pout on Jax’s face, but now wasn’t the time for levity. But, it was good to know that he found her sexy even when he wanted to toss her ass all the way out of Charming. 

“I’d never ask you to to chose. Why do you think I worked so hard to keep things separate? Why do you think I keep pushing you away? Pretending that I can be in the same room as you and not want to be in your arms? I know how this goes, Jax. I might not understand all the complexities, but I damn well know what that VP patch on your chest means. I respect it - even though you don’t believe me. But, it’s my sister. My family. I couldn’t save her. What I can do is kill the fucker who murdered her. Your mother is alive and unharmed because of what I know - what I learned as a result of my sister being beaten and raped until she died in a hospital bed alone.”

The tears started sometime during her tirade, not that she noticed them until Jax’s thumbs gently wiped them from her face. He crushed her body to his chest. At first, she just let him hold her, her own arms hanging like limp noodles at her sides. As he whispered nonsense in her ear, she began to stitch herself back together. Feeling a bit like Sally in that Tim Burton film, sewing her limbs back to her own body. 

“I’m not trying to cut you out,” Sophie said, blinking up at him. “I know this affects you, too, but I know enough to know that you’ll take this to your stupid ass table and come up with some half-assed revenge plan that won’t work and before he’s even sold his first white hate cigar, Zobelle will have you all in the morgue or the state pen. I’ll bury you myself before I let that happen.” 

“Give us a little more credit than that.” 

Sophie forced herself to take a breath. They both wanted the same thing. She could work with them, but only if she made Jax understand. “You would have beaten the shit out of him, maybe even killed him that night at the hospital and we both know it. I don’t blame you for the impulse, but I won’t let you fuck this up because you can keep your shit together.” 

“Clay’s not just gonna back down from this.” 

“I’m not asking anyone to back down from anything. I’m begging you to be smart about this, to let me help you. If it was just as easy, as simple as killing him - well, he’d’ve been dead before my car needed your help.”

Her dry laugh felt more self-deprecating than it should. “I’m good at dropping bodies. But this guy? He’s too connected, and I wanna know the fucker who pulls the strings.”  

“You can’t just go off on your own, Soph. Club’s got a lot of shit going on, and I can’t be sending Happy to follow you every time you decide to go make a deal with someone.”

Sophie nodded. “Done. Laroy provided the last thing I needed anyway.”

Jax raised an eyebrow. “He provided, did he?”

“Don’t be gross. I needed a clean Barrett M82A1.” 

Jax whistled through his teeth. “That’s kinda hot. And a little terrifying.” 

Sophie smirked up at him. “Good. I want you describe me like that to people - hot, and a little terrifying.” 

Olivia used to mention “Club Business” when they spoke. Things that she couldn’t share, even with her own sister. As long as she was safe, Sophie had always respected Olivia’s privacy. She knew that Drifter told her everything. Like Jax had told her Old Ladies either knew everything or nothing. Figured it was her turn to either shit or get off the pot. 

“Everyone but you has called me your Old Lady.” 

Jax ran a hand through his hair as he took a step back. He sat heavily on the bed, holding his head in his hands for a few seconds before looking back up at her.

“You wanna do this now?”

“It gonna be any easier to do this tomorrow?” 

He shook his head. Sophie moved to stand in front of him. Taking his hands in hers, she knelt on the floor in front of him. 

“I know this is heavy. I told you before that I only had one secret, and now that doesn’t even matter because you know everything I would have wanted to hide. But, I can’t be one of those women who’s kept in the dark. It’s not me. I’d dig. And I’d resent you for keeping shit from me. It would feel like there was no trust - and if there’s no trust, then I’m gone. Simple as that.” 

“Nothing simple about trust.” 

“Jax, you either trust me or you don’t. Either way, tell me now.” 

He stared at her. She felt him trying to peel back all of her layers; it made her want to squirm because she feared he’d find something he didn’t like. But, she couldn’t remain in limbo with him, not anymore. Either they did this thing all in, or she walked away. It would suck, but she’d heal. What she wouldn’t survive would be staying, half in - waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

Jax brought their clasped hands to his lips, pressed a kiss to the back of hers before tugging her to stand, then sit next to him on the bed. Releasing one of her hands, he traced her cheek, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. 

“I trust you. It was never about that for me. You always seemed half out the door, and I can’t go there again. I can’t be waiting around for you to decide you’ve had enough of club shit and leave. Tara did that, and I need you to choose to be here. All in.”

“I’m not gonna be one of those women who just gets told to sit quietly while the men handle business - ”

Sophie held a hand up when Jax opened his mouth. 

“That doesn’t mean I don’t understand that you have rules, that the Club has rules. The night Bobby came home, that fight. I could have handled that idiot on my own, but I know you needed to be the one to deal with it because of some chest pounding man rule you boys all have. Fine. I can deal with that, but I’m not damsel in distress, and I won’t have you disrespecting me by treating me like one.” 

“You’re sexy when your bossy.” 

“Good,” Sophie smirked. “I like being bossy.” 

“I’m gonna mess up your rule, just letting you know from the jump. Part of you being my Old Lady is letting me take care of you, keeping you safe from the dangerous part of this life. It’s in my blood, but I’ll try.” 

“I can work with that.” 

“Anything else before we start arguing about where you’re gonna wear my crow?” 

Sophie smirked. “Only one.” 

“What’s that?” 

Her eyes turned serious. “I know about the road rules, Jax. When Olivia had me come out and meet Michael, the guys made a point of telling me all about road rules, and how things were done. I pulled my .40 cal from my hip, pressed the barrel against his jewels and asked him if he had any questions about the consequences of stepping out on my sister - rules or no rules. Hear me now because I won’t say it twice. You step out on me here, there, or anywhere - I’m gone and you’ll never see me again. No second chances.”

“You worried about CaraCara?” 

Sophie shook her head. “No. Plus, porn is good business for the club. Legit, and brings in money.”

“You really held a gun to the Sargent at Arms of an MC on your first visit?”

Sophie laughed. “Yeah. I didn’t know anything about the MC life. Didn’t care because it was my baby sister.” 

They both stared at each other for a moment before grinning.

“You’re imagining me holding a gun to Tig’s dick, aren’t you.” 

Jax’s face went through a series of emotions from shocked amusement to disgust to something bordering on rage-filled jealousy.” 

“I wish I wasn’t, but yeah. And the sick fuck would be turned on by it. We can never tell him.” 

“So that’s it,” Jax finished. “Everything you didn’t want to know about the Sons.” 

Sophie blinked up at him. They’d laid down on the bed, each staring at the ceiling while Jax caught her up on the current shitshow the Club found itself in. Given Tara’s involvement and then abandonment, she hated the doctor a bit more now than she had before. No wonder Jax had been a bit hesitant to trust her. 

“Stahl’s the biggest problem. I mean, she set Opie up to take the fall. Clay fell for it, and we’re all lucky that Tig can’t hit the broadside of a barn. Donna’s lucky to be alive.” 

“He can’t be trusted.” 

Sophie rolled onto her side, pressed her hand against his chest. “He’s the man who raised you. I know this has gotta be eating you up inside.” 

“Clay doesn’t see the road he’s leading us down ends with all of us bloody or locked up again. All he sees is the money.” 

“What’s the plan for retaliation?” 

Jax raised an eyebrow at her, small smile tucked into the corner of his mouth.

“What?”

“Just hard to believe you’re real. Mom was right.” 

“Right about what?” 

“Not everyone is cut out for this life. I thought if I loved Tara enough that it would all work out, that our love would be enough. She helped save Abel’s life, so I’ll always be grateful to her, but it never would have worked between us.” 

“Nothing about what you do, who you are scares me. It’s kinda comforting because it’s oddly familiar. Different uniforms, different rules, but same underlying ideals.”

“Clay wants us to blame the Mayans. Trouble is, we got no beef with them.” 

“No one would believe Clay and Tig acted without a vote?” 

Jax sighed. “I don’t know. If they do believe it, then they have a prez they can’t trust. If they don’t, then they have a VP they don’t believe in. Either way could kill us, break us apart from the inside.” 

Sophie nodded. “I think that’s why you should make Clay and Tig confess. Donna didn’t die. She’s gonna heal up just fine, and while it doesn't make anything they did okay, it should at least buy them their lives. Just maybe not their specific seat at the table.” 

“What are you saying?” 

“Relax. I’m not saying anything. I’m still the new kid here, remember? But, I know how a chain of command works - and how it doesn’t. If you don’t trust Clay, which it’s clear you don’t - and how could you? That shit spills over because you start second guessing everything he does, makes the others start asking questions because I’m guessing before this you and Clay had a pretty solid relationship, right? I mean, I’m sure you fought because what father and son don’t, but still. Family means something.” 

“I’d need evidence that Stahl was responsible. It’s not like I don’t understand why Clay did what he did. I just don’t like his hair-trigger recently; it’s not good for the Club.” 

Sophie pressed a kiss to his chest. “Sounds like you already know what you need to tell the guys.” 

Jax let out a long sigh. “Clay won’t go down that easy.” 

“Then don’t start with Clay. Start with Tig.” 

“Tig?”

“Yeah. I know he’s six types of crazy, but he’s no mindless killer. He wouldn't just go around shooting Opie’s wife, even if Opie had been the rat. The guilt is probably eating him alive, but he’s rationalizing it because he was following orders. And, again, given what they knew at the time, it tracked. Stahl is a dirty bitch. Give me a day or two and I’ll have something on her that you can use.”

“Not sure I can stall them that long. We’re meeting for Church in a couple of hours.” 

Sophie shot from the bed. Jax lazily turned his body to follow her movements. She quickly found her shoes and put them back on her feet.

“What are you doing?” 

“Fixing your problem, Teller. You need info on Stahl, enough to stall the retaliation. If I can’t get the info to you fast enough, let me know where the hit is going to go down, and I’ll make sure it doesn’t.” 

“You can’t shoot anyone, Sophie.” 

“I have more skills than just shooting people, Jackson.”

Part 10

Master List

[robotslenderman]

Well how about I ask you about your OC/VTMB and OC/VTMNR? What guestures your OC makes that has the canon charcters all a flutter and when did they first realise that they were in love? :D

I was gonna answer this earlier, but then I saw that you showed me where to get Eternal Hearts and ended up on that wild fucking ride.

Anyway, now for something light, fluffy, and much less ridiculous: cuddly vampires!

VTMB: Maximillian Strauss and Madeline Jones

So like they’re not romantically involved but they love each other so I’m answering this anyway ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

(Sorry I’m drunk time for a TL;DR before I get to the actual question)

I think their feelings for each other are very complex. Not in an “It’s Complicated^TM” kind of way, in an “it’s indescribable” kind of way.

It feels like they’re not quite romantic, but there’s also shades of romantic love in there? -- not in the sense of budding romantic feelings, of romantic feelings that will grow into stronger romantic feelings. The romance element is minor, and does not feel like it’ll grow stronger. But just in the sense that while they’re not in love with each other, their love for each other isn’t completely platonic.

It’s... really hard to explain. It’s romantic, but not. It’s platonic, but not. It’s something else entirely separate to both of those things. It’s not platonic, it’s not romantic, it’s not familial -- it’s something completely different that I don’t have a word for, and don’t know how to describe.

The easiest way to describe it is that outside of Strauss’s dedication to the Pyramid and the Tremere, outside of Madeline’s dedication to her own morals -- the other person is the most important thing in their life. Their relationship goes beyond all description in the English language.

They love each other. They’re the most important people in each other’s lives. That’s the only way I know how to put it.

And when Madeline was exiled from Los Angeles, despite being over seven hundred years old and having seen many Kindred come and go from his own life who’d been part of his for longer than the ten years she’d been -- Strauss could barely cope with it, and missed her terribly.

(ETA: @ryttu3k suggested “grey queerplatonic”. Honestly, that’s... almost spot on. Grey queerplatonic!)

What Madeline does -- Strauss is absolutely endeared by the fact she calls him “Wizard King.” At first he was indifferent to it, but after a while he started finding it absolutely adorable.

After a stressful night, coming back to the Chantry and hearing an unexpected and delighted “Wizard King! :D” always lifts his mood and makes him smile.

Always.

When he realised he loved her -- I’m just using this to mean love in general, not romantic love, because again ¯\_(ツ)_/¯  what is their relationship exactly???? I DON’T KNOW

anyway

I think it was after the Vienna Chantry bombing. When Strauss knew something was horribly, horribly wrong, but not what yet, and couldn’t focus on his duties as Prince, and had to focus purely on the Chantry. It meant a lot of waiting for word from other Tremere and reassuring the apprentices and magisters, but he couldn’t focus at Elysium and had to be with his clan.

So as he lacked a Seneschal, that meant he had to leave LA in charge of his Sheriff while he paced the Chantry’s corridors in anxiety.

In other words, a four-year-old Madeline Jones who couldn’t string a coherent sentence together.

It was a desperate move.

It was a desperate time.

After a week he finally realised that leaving a domain in the hands of a Malkavian Fledgling was a terrible idea, and came back to Elysium, fully expecting to have to deal with power grabs and put out fires.

He realised he loved her when he came back and found everything was fine. Well. Mostly fine. The Primogen were pissed BUT compliant, so that was PRACTICALLY “fine” considering what he’d expected.

The Primogen Council and other enemies had tried to take advantage of his absence and distraction and Madeline had smacked every single one of them down.

Sure, she couldn’t exactly tell them off in coherent terms -- but she was more than capable of dragging out their secrets, putting them on display, and reminding them exactly what she was capable of if they kept annoying her. She was more than capable of Dementating people stubborn enough to keep on going. She did not let them cow her, she did not let their stubborn refusal to understand her odd get in the way -- funny, they always understood her perfectly when the seer part of her dragged their secrets into the light -- and she did not let any of them try to boss her around. He’d left her in charge, and in charge she was determined to stay. The worst offenders had been utterly humiliated and made an example of with Dementate, which kept the rest in line. She’d made the Ventrue Primogen take off his pants and do a dance when he’d pushed her and tried to Dominate her in Elysium.

Harsh? Definitely. Necessary? Also yes. She’d warned them, and she only had so many tools at her disposal, and so she followed through on every single threat she’d made.

That was when Strauss realised he loved his adopted childe, and that he was damn proud of her.

And highkey wished he could make her part of the Pyramid -- Malkavian or not. Because if there was anyone outside the clan worthy of it, it was her.

VTMNR: Lettow Kaminsky and Elisa Mulgrew

What Elisa does -- Lettow loves her forehead kisses. Loves them. She kisses him right on his hairline, while cupping his cheeks or running her fingers up the back of his neck into his hair, and it always makes him melt.

She’s also very stubborn. When it’s not against him (for obvious reasons, lol), he loves that, too -- how in their last conversation before he left for the Middle East, she’d refused to leave the hangar until he’d promised he’d come back alive. After having a partner who’d fallen to depression and essentially committed suicide -- he loved having one that was absolutely fucking determined to stay alive, he loved being in love with a fighter.

When he realised he loved her -- maybe not quite “loved”, but definitely “had feelings for.” It was the night they were reunited after he came back from the Middle East, when Dove sent them both on a job that Elisa needed a bodyguard for and he was sitting in the front passenger seat as she drove and tried to entice him to talk about his experiences in the Middle East, so that they wouldn’t be buried, wouldn’t haunt him.

He was somewhat scarred by the Gehenna War and all the nasty shit happening out there because of the overpopulation of Elder kindred, and she’d tried (and failed) to relate to him, only making him feel patronised and belittled instead because she’d compared relatively petty experiences to his traumatic and scarring ones.

He realised he was falling in love with her when she apologised for it, and said “I just wanted to make you feel related to because I don’t want you to be alone right now. You deserve to feel supported. You deserve not to feel alone. You don’t have to be alone. I want to be there for you in any way I can be so that you don’t feel alone.”

After having essentially been abandoned by his previous bondmate, after having battled (and still battling) his complex feelings of abandonment and not-good-enough in regards to Aila -- hearing that?

Yeah.

He might not have fallen like a ton of bricks on the spot, but he knew at that moment that it was going to happen, that it was bound to happen, and its inevitability was something he couldn’t have fought if he wanted to.

As for the moment he realised he actually loved her? I couldn’t tell you; he sort of knew from that moment on it was coming, and he couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment. It happened so gently and so softly that even though he was looking for it, he never saw it. It just was what it was, and one day it felt like it had always been there, and he couldn’t even remember when it snuck in.

[samcrobae]

Wine, Part III (crossover?)

WARNING: mention of miscarriage, language, mention of abortion.

“Keep him close, kid” Bishop tapped EZ on the arm. “I’m outta here. Gilly, Coco, Creep, with me.” The three walk out the front door with Bishop. “What’s up Jefe?” Coco asked.

“This is going to break him. Find her. Get her to come back. I’ve had enough of the Reyes family bullshit and I want it done. The guys a fuckin flight risk.”

“Yeah aight” coco replied. She works at that law firm on the corner off 9th. I’ll stop by there tomorrow see if she shows.”

“No, I want you on her. Creep, find out if she has any other contacts in Santo Padre. Surrounding cities, towns, I don’t care. Gilly, you go to her office tomorrow see if she’s there. Let me know what you find.”

————————————

Coco pulled up outside of your old condo as he saw you getting into your car. He followed you for a couple hours, sure to stay far enough behind so that you wouldn’t notice. Passing up the town sign he let out a “Charming? what the fuck?” He stopped just half a block away from you as he watched you pull into the lot. “Teller-Morrow Automotives”.

“What the fuck are you doing with SAMCRO girl...” coco whispered to himself. He waited about 45 minutes til you pulled out of the lot and left. “Shit.”

————————————-

Coco had followed you for a few days, everything was as normal. You’d leave your condo everyday at 8:15, stop for coffee, head into the office, and head home at 4:30. Back at the scrapyard Coco, Creep, Gilly, and Bishop talked amongst themselves.

“I don’t know Jefe, something ain’t sittin right with me, her going to SAMCRO. For what? If Angel knew about this-”

“He won’t know anything til he needs to. Coco, Creep, go down to Teller-Morrow, pay our white boys a friendly visit. Gilly, check up on the prospect and Angel. Hey- I mean it Coco. Friendly visit.”

———————————————

Pulling into the lot, Quinn notices the uninvited visitors. “Jax! Mayans.” Throwing on his kutte he walks out with Chibs at his side. Coco and Creeper park their bikes and cut the engines. “Think you’re lost, Ese. Little Mexico’s that way.” Jax says as he takes a cigarette between his lips and lights it. Coco steps forward and Creeper puts his hand on his arm and shakes his head in disagreement.

Coco lets out a sigh , “Looking for Y/N. I know she’s been here. Why?”

Jax takes a step toward Coco and looks at Chibs. “What the hell does a Mayan want with Y/N?”

“Need to talk to her. Family shit.”

“Family? Well you’re lookin at it Vato. Now get back on your bikes and go home to your beans and tortillas. I’m sure whatever she has going on doesn’t concern you.”

Coco and Creeper look at each other, a look of confusion drawn on their faces.

“You sure bout that Guero?” Coco asked. “Might wanna talk to the father of her child about that. Since she’s got a little Mayan in her.”

Chibs and Jax look at each other, a look of worry and confusion spread on their faces. “What the fuck?” Jax’s neck vein about to burst, he motions to Chibs. “Find Lyla and get her out here now.”

“Aye. LYLLAAAAAAA” Chibs shouts from the parking lot. Lyla and Chucky come running out of the clubhouse and see the Mayans stopped in front of Jax. “Shit.” Lyla whispered under her breath.

“Can I help?” Chucky asked.

Jax looked at Lyla before replying “Chucky take a walk.”

He nods his head. “I accept that”. And walks back into the clubhouse. Jax looked at Lyla and placed his hand on her arm. “Now I’m only gonna ask you this once darlin. When Y/N came in the other day she was looking for you. Why?” Lyla nervously looks at coco from the corner of her eye. “WHY!!” Jax yells.

“She came in and told me she was pregnant. With a Mayan’s baby. Said shit was heavy.” Lyla began. Coco spoke up “yeah what else she tell you? She go into detail? Tell you anything she shouldn’t have?” He clenched his jaw together.

“Hey!” Jax shoved Coco, “if you lay a fuckin hand on Y/N I will cut your Mexican heart out and have Coco tacos for dinner.” “Jackie...." Chibs warned.

Lyla continued, “she didn’t say anything I swear. Came in looking for the name of the doctor I used for my abortion. I gave her the info but I haven’t heard from her since. She’s torn. But wanted the information so I gave it to her. She’s not returning my calls or my texts.”

“Jesus Christ you’re swapping recipes and abortion secrets now?” Chibs asked. Creeper looked at Lyla. “You got a number for her?”

“Yeah it’s in my phone I’ll go get it.”

Coco looks at Jax, who now looks hurt and mad at the same time. “Sorry Ese, hope you didn’t have a chubby for Y/N. Guess she just liked that chorizo sausage a little more eh?”

Seconds later Lyla returns with a piece of paper in hand. That’s her cell. She took the next few days off work. So she might be at her condo. She was supposed to sell it but I don’t know if she ever even put it on the market.”

“Yeah thanks. You fellas have a nice day.” Coco and Creeper get back on their bikes and head out of charming and head straight to your place.

————————————-

You get to the top of your stairs when something doesn’t look right.. your lock had clearly been messed with. There was a screw on the floor. Nervous, you slowly crept into your front door, nothing seemed out of place , nothing taken. You head to your living room and see Coco sat on your couch. You let out a quick scream and realize it’s him. “My bad.” Coco said.

“What the fuck Coco! Why are you here?” You and coco went back and forth like spitfire, question after question thrown like darts at a dartboard.

“Why did you leave?”

“Did Angel send you?”

“Why were you at TM?”

“Are you following me?”

“Did you get that doctor info you needed?”

“How long have you been following me?”

“Why did that guy at TM have no fingers?”

“What do you want coco?”

“How the fuck do you know Jax Teller?”

Silence hung in the air as Coco basically spit that question out to you and if his words could slap you across the face, those would have. You sat down on the ottoman diagonal to your couch. “I need some answers here Chiquita. You destroyed my hermano and I had to watch it happen. We all did. You need to start talking.” Coco sat back in your couch and placed his hands behind his head.

You let out a loud sigh and placed your hands in your lap. “I was feeling... off. Not myself for a few weeks. I tried to ignore it but I couldn’t shake the feeling. My periods are funky so I didn’t think anything of it. Angel and I had been seeing each other a few months, but man. We fucked like rabbits. I took a pregnancy test and for a small moment Coco, I was excited. I have loved Angel for so long and there’s no doubt he’d be such a good dad. But when. Realized we’d be raising a child in the middle of all of this..."

“You panicked.” Coco finished the sentence for you.

“I know who he is, the shit happening in the club. And I accept it. All of it and I accept him. I know this is who he is. I can’t ask him to choose. Anyway, I went to talk to Lyla to get the doctor she went to for her abortion. I went to the doctor and I’m further along than I thought. 13 weeks. And , as soon as I saw that baby on the screen, coco I left. I couldn’t do it.”

“And SAMCRO?” He asked.

“My mom was a friend of the family. But when she left me, Gemma took me in. Made sure I had a roof over my head, went to school, got a job and stayed off the streets.”

“Teller?” Coco looked at you.

“Jackson and I ... we.. we were a thing for a minute. I loved him. And he loved me. We wanted to get married, have kids. I got pregnant my junior year of high school. Jax was already out by then. He was over the moon. Then one night I woke up in a puddle of my own blood. I lost the baby. But I was a kid ya know. I don’t know. Then a year after graduation, I left. Didn’t say a word to anyone about it. I kept in contact with Jax but we didne share the intimate details of our lives anymore. I had no idea how deep he was in it with the club, had no idea I was with Angel. Didn’t know I’m pregnant”.

“When you went to see Lyla, was he there?”

“Yeah, we kept our distance. I just needed to talk to someone who had been through it. Someone who isn’t Gemma. Lyla had Ope. She understood.” You felt the tears roll down your cheeks. “I didn’t mean to hurt Angel. Embarrass him in front of his family. I didn’t know what to do."

“Walking out ain’t it Chiquita. This shit with the club is enough to fuck anyone up. Angel? He’s seen some shit. He’s done some shit. All he wants in this life is a place to call home. That’s you. This ain’t for the faint of heart. If you’re gonna be in this, then you’re in this. There’s no half in, half out, get advice from other MCs, walking out on my viejo, not knowing what you wanna do shit. If you’re in this, go home. To Angel. Fix this shit eh? But you need to know that you pulling this shit is never an option. If you ain’t, then get rid of that baby and just leave. And if what Angel said is true, YOU asked him to stay. He did.”

Coco sat up and motioned at Creeper it was time to go. He looked back at you before leaving out the front door. You dropped your face in your hands and sat in silence for what felt like hours before grabbing your keys and purse and heading to your car.

@mrsamaroevans @cind-in-real-life

[masterbeta29]

My review of Pokemon SwSh!!!! (or just Shield, cuz it was the version I play, LOL)

Finally, after finishing the game (including the Post game) and fully exploring the region, I think it’s time for me to say what I think of this 8 gen…

I know it’s obvious, but I mention it just in case: This is MY OPINION!!!, if someone disagrees with me its totally valid, I just ask for respect.

ALSO, English is not my first language so I might have certain lack/erros of spelling out there, or I repeat many words, hehe.

It is important to clarify that this review is based on SwSh base, everything that refers to DLC will NOT be included here, my opinion of the game is already done, the rest is extra content.

I wanted to give this review a more ‘’silly’’ tone, since giving negative opinions on the internet can be quite delicate and I wanted to relax the mood. Do not take this seriously, I still have my CONS with the game, but it is still genuinely enjoyable, which for me is the most important thing in a game.  I will talk about everything in general, so I will try to summarize certain points.

LET’S GO!!!

NEW FEATURES

Poke Camp, Curry Dex, Boxes and more

It’s like a dream come true for me, visiting other camps, seeing my whole party next to each other in the screen playing, discussing, running, is something really magical helps, me connect with them and know their personalities better, although I admit that I miss petting them lol and the minigames like in Gen 6. I also really liked the concept of curry as an alternative way to cure your Pokémon maybe I just wish there was a simpler way to know how to create new recipes (ALSO TMs).

Access to boxes anywhere is wonderful especially when you are breeding, just like, changing the name of trade Pokémon and the move reminder.

Rotomphone

It is not used as much as a phone, more than in the post Game (I can be wrong tho) but it serves as Dex and that’s what’s important really, the new feature is that now it includes the bicycle, that can ride both on land and water and in my opinion it is a degradation of what the concept of  “Poke Ride” was, but as I said before, it fulfill the function it should.

Trainer Cards

The concept of being able to share and customize them with other players is super entertaining, although it is a bit annoying that you always have to make a new code for each small modification. As for the cards of the main characters of the game, I will talk with a little more detail later. 

Dynamax

At the beginning it was fun and exciting, but in the end it just became a gimmick that sometimes I had to use by obligation in raids. It is not as epic as the Megas and does not have the weight of the lore and cultural/regional connection like the Z-moves.

The Giga forms, although some are great, and I am happy that they gave Pokémon like Garbodor love, I also think that there were many missed opportunities, starting with the starters of the region or in giving forms to Pokémon that in previous generations already had like Gengar and Charizard.

Raids

They are incredibly fun, it is an activity that you can spend hours and hours enjoying, especially with friends but if we talk about NPCs… OOF, I understand that the purpose of Pokemon is that we all make friends and work as a team, but DAMN, if it is stressful when you lose a raid with 3 friends and an NPC, because the Pokémon only killed the NPC, it is almost impossible to defeat a 5 star raid with only NPCs, and as I said before I understand why they do them weaker, but there are some that are completely useless, I see you Martin Solrock lol.

Poke Jobs and Rotom Rally

I  will be honest, I have not used these features enough to have a solid judgment on these lol.

CHARACTERS

Magnolia

OK, I need to get this off my chest: I am incredibly disappointed and sad with this character, especially since she is/was our first old female professor, to be simply pulled into forgettable land.

It started pretty well, but then it just disappeared until almost the end of the game to give the role of professor to Sonia … REALLY ?! I hate to say this, but she felt more like a device to give character development to Sonia, when she could have been used in scenes with Rose or repeatedly going into further detail about Dynamax for the MC (you know because she’s an expert about that topic…), before give the paper to Sonia. At least I am grateful that I had a little more screen time in the post game, although not even as a professor.

Sonia

Thank you Sonia, for allowing us to discover and know the story with you, honestly she was the one who saved mostly my interest in the story. 

But speaking of the character, I like her, I like her dedication to get out of the shadow of Leon’s achievement and to show her grandmother that she is capable, which she finally manages to fulfill, she still has certain insecurities, but that makes her more human, she’s the real professor (I’m still salty for Magnolia tho)

Leon

Everyone knows from the posts on my PT on Twitter that I constantly bullying the character, but I really like him a lot, he is an excellent guide/brother through the game, charismatic, EXTRA, but very involved in his role as champion, in the sense that he is always aware of what is going on and helping in the process, in addition to being strong (one of the most difficult battles in the game). Definitely among my fav champions with Cynthia, Steven and Kukui (I count him as champion, SU!)

Gym Leaders

I love them, their designs, personalities, the animations, they are all incredibly memorable, my favorites are Opal, Kabu and Piers. 

But even so, I wish I had more to go on besides the lore on the back of their cards and their battle animations, I would have liked to see them more integrated in the story, and I feel that it lack a little more interaction with some of them, especially Allister and Melony in my case, but at least the trainer cards were a good addition to know them a little more, outside of being a Gym Leader.

RIVALS

OK, I’m prepared for everyone to hate me, *sigh*:

I… I DONT LIKE BEDE AND MARNIE THAT MUCH?… I mean, I don’t hate them, and they are both far from being the worst rivals, but I did expect a little more from both…

Bede

I am one of the few of the fandom that does not like rivals flat jerks, because for me, that is not a character but rather  a trait.

But I wanted to give it a try, and when I was just beginning to gain interest in him, they force his backstory in my face… And as I said, I like trainer cards…but more in characters, like G.leaders because these are characters that we don’t see much around the trip, but in the case of rivals, that appear several times and develop in the story, I personally like to get to know them little by little, discover their story and understand them in the course, here I felt it more as an excuse for me, to feel bad for him, especially at the moment he gives you his card.

His relationship with Rose is not explored enough imo. 

And a complete turn-around that happens offscreen, like no joke, the MC literally didn’t see any of it, he just disappears after the Opal scene (but to give him credit, that scene is one of my favorites in the game).

But you know, I understood that he was just a lost boy, and I’m happy that he found a better place, and I admire his effort to want to change, so in the end I ended up liking him a little more.

Marnie

Marnie is interesting, because although I agree with many people that she would have benefited from having more screen time, I consider that a good character does not need all the screen time in the world, is about what but what they do with it, and the problem I have with her is that her time was not well spent.

I like her dream and I really like her relationship with her brother, however there was no moment when I really connected with her. I feel partly, that I don’t know her character, like her various personality facets. 

Untapped opportunities: fight with her more times or with her…would have helped the character a lot imo.

Hop

Hop is the best rival of the three hands down, his trainer card contains the right and necessary information to make us have an interest in the character, but also the story lets us know him more: a competitive boy, but who has insecurities, fears of failure, that is reflected not only by the dialogue but also in his Pokemon team (no really, it broke my heart when I realized that he didn’t have his Wooloo in his team), that he is frustrated and suffers, but he gets up, discovers other tastes and with these finds a new path, ugh perfect, I adore him.

Forcing the player to defeat him is torture, it is like defeating Hau in USUM and Wally in ORAS breaks my heart.

Rose

In short: ok character, decent /meh antagonist, and a horrible villain. 

Like the climax of the story, Rose is forced in the end to be the villain, when he worked best as an antagonist, his plan makes no sense, his battle is disappointing, although his battle theme is awesome, but it just does not fit the character, the plan, nor the situation at all.

But the character has a certain charisma, especially in his ‘’suit especially in his incognito suit.”

Oleana

Interesting character, with a potential backstory, with motives and characterization, who is underused in the story * sigh *… I LIKE HER THO

Overall, I would have liked to see much more of the relationship between Rose, Oleana and Bede, I think it would have benefited the 3 characters…

Team Yell

They are … ok, it is cool to have a team that is not villain, that bother the player from time to time even for good reasons, I admire his dedication and loyalty.

THE REGION

The region is aesthetically beautiful, the details, the structure, the contrast for example between Hammerlocke and Ballonlea, and despite not living in the UK or having had the opportunity to travel to the destination, according to my friends the region in which the games are based is very well related, which I think is excellent. However, despite the visual beauty, when it comes to routes and exploration it feels a bit limited, there are really some towns, where the most interesting thing to do is complete the Gym, there are almost no reasons to return to the previous town after having passed them…

But, what I missed the most was the lack of exploration, discovery, the charm of the NPCs…

Many have told me: what about the Wild Area? Because of the ability to explore in an open area, it is probably the best in the franchise! and yes, the Wild Area is a very attractive part of these games (I will talk a little bit about this, later), but as I said, everything that is considered part of the capacity of the new console, I will not take it into account, it is unfair, because a portable console can NOT stand a concept such as the Wild Area although the developers had the idea before, not at least at SwSh scale.

And as I said before and again, the T.Cards are an incredible idea, but for me NOTHING compares to getting to know the characters through the world, dialogue, interaction… I’m going to use pokemon Moon as an example to make me understand better: (because it was the last main pokemon game I played before SwSh and that’s why I have it more fresh lol) Where you can enter Olivia’s shop, buy jewelry and visit her room and discover that she is a desperate single woman, or enter Gladion’s room and talk to the receptionist and that she tells you part of his story, that kind of things…

Let’s see for example Melony, we know she has more children besides Gordie, but only for concept art, and yes, probably do unique models would take a while, but I honestly wouldn’t have be bothered  if they use generic NPCS, they did it with Lana’s sisters, then the anime can dedicated to giving them unique designs.

Speaking of NPCs (mainly of those inside the houses), many lost the charm and authenticity they had… I mean, where is the lady who told us the story of her husband’s accident or the men of the coffee shop, who every time he prepares us a drink told us the story of where such a drink came from, ect… the NPCS on that side are boring…

EXCEPT BALL GUY, he / she is awesome!

I know this look like extra or unimportant things, but these little details really give life to the region, personality to characters that are secondary, it makes everything feel more united and also makes the main characters feel more inside the world, and honestly that is why on this hand, some cities felt empty for me…

But the other hand, I really liked what they did with the NPCs fans, see how the number increasing every time the MC wins a gym battle, makes the trip to become a champion feel more rewarding, It really helps you feel like a true champion when you got it. 

Other examples like the girl NPC who is going to support  you in the Gyms while their pokemon is evolving, or how the NPCS react and change their dialogue corresponding to what is happening… beautiful, for this part the worldbulding is 10/10.

The wild Area

Probably the closest we have for now of an open space area in a Pokemon game, I have to admit that I get lost at least 1 half an hour trying to find the next destination (I understand you Leon), it was hilarious lol, at the beginning of the game it turns out to be a fairly limited area, and you really can enjoy it in its entirety when you finish the main story, but I don’t see so much trouble with that, since it’s partly the point, for balance. In general, it is a fantastic idea although I feel that it is necessary to polish it in certain parts, and NO, I don’t mean THE TREE, but I don’t want to be so hard on GF at this moment, because is the first time they experiment with such concept…

Pokemon and Music

I put these two together because they both share a very curious characteristic: EXPERIMENTAL. 

The pokedex is super solid, I love how these last generations, GF is doing its homework and is striving to make the pokemon belong to the region, as for animals, myths, culture…muah I LOVE IT, BRAVO.

For me a good OST movie or video game not only has to be for the piece n yes, but how it is composed to accompany the events that occur on the screen, how it adapts and fits a certain scene of the story or character, and although I admit that in general it is not my favorite compared to other gens, there are tracks that have become part of my favorites:

The crowd, the screams, the build up as you gradually approach the last pokemon, ugh. Dynamax is cool and everything, but THIS is the basis for me, of why these battles feel so energetic and exciting.

That mystical atmosphere that catches you, is beautiful but at the same time mysterious, and perhaps many disagree with me, but the addition of the howls of the legendaries… I love it.

STORY

I think the game started extremely well, the introduction to the characters, the exploration, the introduction to the starters, the mystery of the legendary, everything is on track to me to enjoy this adventure to the fullest, but later I felt like it began to fall.

I understand that this is Pokémon and sometimes Pokémon does not need a complex story to make it enjoyable, as long as it makes sense and is entertaining, the problem I have mainly with the story is how they constantly get you out of it. I understand the concept they wanted to do: to take a more realistic point of view, in which adults take responsibility or in this case the champion and that later when you become champion you now can do what the champion did, and I like this concept, but the phrase of “you focus on the gym, we take care of the problems ” they say and they repeat it several times in the game like, I understood the first time!!! 

Indirectly I felt like they were trying to took me out, and in consequence I lost interest in the story of the game, if it hadn’t been because Sonia bothered to explain to me the lore and a little of what was happening. 

It’s more like “tell us” and not “show us”

and that’s the risk of this concept: you play as a main character, because you want to be a main character or share the role.

The climax feels incredibly forced and confusing, I felt that there was no build out, almost no foreshadowing for what was happening at the moment, everything comes out of nowhere, and thats why, I started making Okami jokes with Eternatus, because I don’t felt that emotion of the ‘’Climax’’.

Definitely in the part where the game shine was in the gym Challenge, as I said before, the gyms, the leaders, the atmosphere within them, the scale, the music that changing every time, until reaching the final pokémon, the challenges that we have to do before, the fans, becoming the champion, all this really is the identity of the game. 

Pokémon returned to its roots, where this story is the story of us again, and becoming the champion here is everything, it is one of the most exciting and most satisfying Gym challenge in all generations with gyms.

ADDITIONAL

Here I want to give opinions according to the experiences I had with certain things within the game, which I think are quite PERSONAL, because each person plays different Pokémon, by the team of Pokémon, because he decided to level up more or stay at a lower level or how you decided to follow the story of the game.

Difficulty

Decent, by the standards of Pokemon of course, I try not to leveling to much, and if I do, there are maximum 3 levels and only one pokemon… So, gyms were easy in general, perhaps a pair that were difficult (Allister and Melony), but I never did black screen as in other games, but definitely the most difficult battle in the game is Leon, which I think is appropriate.

Online

Its horrible lol, There were not only once but several times in which I lasted like 1 hour trying to connect with a person, it is ridiculous.The signal falling every so often. But in general the biggest problem I have is connecting with very specific people, not even with the infamous Festival Plaza had so many problems.

Gameplay / Pacing

It is normal the same as always which is fine, some drop of frames out there in certain scenes but nothing serious, some cuts and lack of scenarios / designs that if you should in when they took me a little at the time, but absolutely nothing compared as the haters make it look, the game is still incredibly enjoyable, and it can be played perfectly.

The pacing started pretty well/decently, but from the fourth gym onwards, everything became very very fast, and not to mention the climax and the Pokemon League, honestly all this last arc felt super stuck….

So my opinion in general is: I enjoy the game like any other Pokémon game, it has its entity, it has new and interesting things that I would like it to expand more in future generations and it has personality. Is it my favorite game or my favorite generation? No, I definitely enjoyed other generations more, there were many missed opportunities that they could take more advantage, and I feel bad for GF for making them release this game for this year and these dates, because unfortunately some cuts are very noticeable. But the generation just starting ,so we will have to wait and see what we have for the future. For now, Thanks Pokémon SwSh, for another adventure…