#At least it’s supposed to be back… I keep refreshing the page but nothing comes up

[recusant-s-sigil]

WOOHOO KH HEARDLE IS BACK

[penkura]

Late Night Talks

Note: Decided to write this after this week's OP episode, hope all my Law fans are doing okay. :') It'll be fine, I'm sure. This is just some cute late night talking for Law and Reader, not connected to where you belong but is connected to the OP Men as Dads series, I suppose.

“You should sleep.”

Law is only a little bit startled when you speak, laying your arm across his chest while he lays back in your bed with a book in his hand, lamp and reading glasses still on despite the time. He hadn’t even realized it was almost 2am already, only checking the clock now and feeling slightly guilty.

“Did the light wake you?”

“No,” eyes still closed you shake your head, giving a small sigh when Law brings you closer with his free hand, “A few small kicks to my ribs did it. What are you reading tonight?”

“The fourteenth volume of Sora.”

“Gotta keep ahead of Rosi?”

“Hmm,” Law hums a bit and flips a page, not fully paying attention to the book, he’ll have to start this chapter again tomorrow, “Not really, but he likes to talk about it when I pick him up from school. I’m just refreshing myself on it.”

“Oh, please, like you don’t already know what happens.”

“Hey its been a while since I’ve read it. I need to make sure it’s still age appropriate too.”

“Well, thank you for that,” Laughing softly, you pat his chest which makes Law chuckle a bit in return, “He’s so smart though, especially for an eight year old. I’m sure he understands it all anyway.”

“He gets it from you.”

“Nope. Gets his looks and smarts from his father.”

“[Y/N]—”

“At least Cora has my eyes. Speaking of, your daughter would like a trip to the park later today.”

“Oh would she now?” Law raises an eyebrow at the ‘your daughter’ part, wondering what she did this time.

“Mm-hm, specifically asked for her daddy to take her too.”

“Asked?”

“Asked, had a tantrum, whatever you want to call it.”

Law just sighs and shakes his head, not that surprised hearing your nearly three year old had a tantrum earlier that day. Of course it’s common for toddlers, but normally you have nothing to report with Cora when Law gets home and she’s happy to be held and tucked into bed later in the evening. Her tantrums and fits are rate, but seem to happen more lately, he wonders if it’s due to his being at work until late or your pregnancy, but tonight is the first time it’s been mentioned in a while. Maybe he needs to try and talk to her alone.

“We should all go then. Take a walk as a family.”

“Mm…”

“[Y/N]-ya?”

It doesn’t surprise Law to see you’ve fallen back asleep just as quickly as you’d woken up, but he gets it, you’re more tired lately being so close to the end of your third pregnancy, to finally meeting your baby again. He’s as quiet as possible while he closes his book, setting it and his glasses to the side before he adjusts to having you in his arms as he lays down fully beside you. Law whispers a goodnight to you, placing a soft kiss to your forehead with one hand on your stomach to feel the little kicks that had woken you up in the first place before he soon falls asleep himself.

Even though morning is going to come soon, he’s grateful for the late night talks you two still have, even after all these years and now about to be three children. He’ll never get tired of them.

[chelseachilly]

THIS LOVE - chapter two | the lights are so bright but they never blind me

pairing: ben chilwell x reader

rating: T

word count: 2.1k

summary: you have to adjust to life in the public eye as ben’s supposed girlfriend...and ben has to adjust to the sight of you wearing his chelsea kit to a game

A/N: thanks for more lovely messages, they really encourage me to update faster lol! i’m sorry this one’s a bit shorter, the next update will definitely be longer 😌 chapter title is from welcome to New York

previous chapter | view all chapters

The morning after the gala, you wake up in Ben’s guest room feeling relaxed and refreshed.

You always seem to get a better sleep when you stay at his, though you’re not sure if that’s due to his comfy mattress and expensive sheets or the fact that he lives out in Cobham and it’s significantly quieter than your own flat.

This state of relaxation lasts for about five minutes, or until you get a text from your friend Valerie asking if you’ve been on Twitter today.

Bracing yourself, you open the app and already see Ben’s name trending.

You’ve gained some followers over the years when Ben has posted you on his socials, but it’s nothing compared to the way people are currently talking about you all over the internet.

It’s not just on Twitter - your Instagram following count has already grown exponentially, and your comments are filled with everything under the sun, from praise to cruelty.

You know Ben gets shit like this all the time, and Mia warned you it would be coming your way, but it’s still surreal to read about yourself online.

Especially when none of it is true. Even the nice tweets about what a lovely couple you make are based on a lie.

You can’t resist going down the rabbit hole for a few minutes, reading pages of tweets from Ben’s fans speculating about your relationship, some negative and some positive. Eventually, you can feel your brain starting to hurt, and you know it’s in your best interest to shut your phone off for a while.

Begrudgingly, you force yourself to get out of bed and face the day. You make your way downstairs in your pyjamas, stretching your arms out as you enter the kitchen.

Ben is already awake, like he usually is at this time, and he’s standing by the stove in joggers and an old Nike sweatshirt, flipping pancakes that you know are not a part of his diet plan.

“Pancakes?” you question, startling Ben a bit as he turns to face you.

“Morning,” he says with a small smile. “Yeah, with blueberries. They’re for you. Figured it’s the least I could do since-“

“Since I’m being torn apart online by football fans?” you joke - or, at least, you mean it as a joke.

Ben’s face falls, his eyes wide with concern, and he sets down the spatula to walk over to you.

“I am so sorry, Y/N,” he says seriously. “I didn’t know it would be like this. I’ve obviously never had a real girlfriend before, so I didn’t think about it.”

“Ben, it’s-”

“I called Shreya as soon as I saw everything and had her prepare an exit strategy, she’s already confirmed our relationship to the press but she thinks we can back out of it if-“

“Ben,” you say a bit more firmly, placing a hand on his arm. “Why would we need to back out of this? Does she not think it’s working?”

Ben just blinks at you for a moment before shaking his head. “Well, no, actually. Apparently I’m getting great press from it, and you’re the one getting all the shitty comments. But I-”

“I’m fine with it, then,” you shrug. “I’ll just make my Instagram private, you know I don’t really care about social media anyways. I’ll be fine.”

Ben still doesn’t look convinced.

“Are you sure? I hate the thought of you having to read that crap,” he mumbles. “I’m used to the pricks, but you shouldn’t have to be.”

“It’s fine, Ben, I swear,” you insist, squeezing his shoulder. “Actually, some of your fans seem to like me. Or they like that I supposedly keep you grounded or whatever bullshit Shreya fed the press.”

“Well, that part’s not total bullshit,” Ben says with a small smile that makes your cheeks flush slightly. “Thank you again for doing this. And you can still change your mind at any time, you know.”

“I know,” you say, mirroring his smile. “Now hurry up before you burn my pancakes.”

“Oh, shit!”

-

By the next weekend, you’ve gotten pretty used to “dating” Ben.

You go private on your socials as you discussed, with the official statement from Ben’s publicist being that you two ask for privacy as a new couple. Naturally, this only makes everyone more interested, including the media.

As Shreya hoped, the headlines now describe Ben as a “man in love” and someone ready to “settle down with a nice girl.” There are tabloid articles with pictures of you two - some from before you were even pretending to date - and all the information they could dig up on you, including your job.

It’s all a bit weird, but the weirdest part is definitely when you have to actually corroborate your story of being Ben’s girlfriend. Which, as far as everyone outside your inner circle is concerned, you now are.

It definitely feels strange lying when, for example, one of the doctors you work with congratulates you on your relationship. (Turns out her son is a Chelsea fan and she wants to know if you could ask him to sign a kit or something, which you promise to make happen.)

You’re relieved when the only event you have to attend this weekend is Ben’s game, which you would’ve gone to anyways. You’re also going with his sister Alex, who is obviously in on the whole thing, which makes it easier.

She meets you at your flat, which is conveniently only about ten minutes away from Stamford Bridge on the tube, an hour before the game.

After you tightly embrace Ben’s sister, who is like a younger sister to you as well, she grins and passes you a small gift bag.

“You got me a present?” you ask in confusion.

“It’s not from me, it’s from Ben,” she chuckles. “He also said to say he’s sorry and that it was Shreya’s idea.”

You open the bag and pull out a familiar article of clothing - a brand new Chelsea shirt with Ben’s name on the back.

Of course, as Ben’s girlfriend, it would make sense that you be wearing his kit.

“Oh, god, let me go change.”

Once you’ve replaced the plain blue t-shirt you were wearing with the shirt Ben sent over, you walk back out and find Alex with an amused look on her face.

“How do I look?” you ask a bit sarcastically as you do a twirl.

“Like a proper WAG,” Alex laughs. “Let’s go, my future sister-in-law.”

You groan as Alex grabs you by the arm and you depart for the match.

Although you’ve come to see Ben play at the Bridge more times than you can count, you have never felt this many eyes on you as you make your way to your seats. There are people not-so-subtly taking your photo as you walk up, probably made all the worse by the Chilwell kit you have on - though you suppose that’s the point.  

The match begins, and you cheer at the top of your lungs for Chelsea, just as you have from the day Ben signed for them. You never really cared that much about football, and you didn’t support any particular club growing up, but you’ve always been Ben’s number one fan.

Today, he’s playing well, making you as proud as ever. It’s not hard to pretend to be the supportive girlfriend when every flawless pass or run forward has you leaping out of your seat with unrestrained enthusiasm.

At half-time, Chelsea are up by 1 against Newcastle, and you and Alex are happily chatting and catching up over a beer.

“I saw all the pics of you guys at the gala on Twitter,” Alex says with a smirk on her face, lowering her voice so nobody overhears. “I know it’s weird to say since you’re basically part of the family, but you actually look quite good together.”

“Ew, Alex, there’s no way,” you insist, a slight blush creeping onto your cheeks. “He’s…Ben.”

Alex just laughs and drops the subject as the game resumes and the boys come back out of the tunnel.

Around the 85th minute, with the score now tied 1-1, Ben comes running up the side and makes an excellent pass to Conor, who scores and secures the win. You jump out of your seats to cheer as the guys celebrate on the pitch, you rolling your eyes with affection as Ben and Conor jump up and down with excitement.

The whistle blows shortly after with Chelsea leaving victorious, and you and Alex make your way down to the tunnels to meet up with Ben. With this being their fourth win in a row, the atmosphere at the Bridge is electric, a far cry from last year’s rough season.

It’s so nice to see Ben so happy again, and the smile on his face only seems to grow tenfold when he spots you and Alex making your way over to him.

You can’t resist picking up your pace to a light jog as you move toward him, and his arms are already open to pull you into a tight hug that lifts your feet off the ground and makes your heart soar in a similar fashion.

“That assist was brilliant,” you murmur into his shoulder before he sets you down.

Ben pulls away, still beaming at you, his sweaty hair curled down over his forehead.

“Thanks, Y/N,” he smiles, his eyes wandering to the shirt you’d almost forgotten you were wearing.

It’s not the first time you’ve worn his kit - his England debut and the Champions League final come to mind - but those were special occasions, with the rest of his friends and family wearing it too. This is obviously different, and although Ben sent it over for you to wear, his eyes are locked to you like he’s trying to memorize every thread of the fabric.

You can’t figure out why he seems so transfixed, but you don’t have much time to dwell on it before you’re interrupted.

Alex clears her throat, snapping Ben out of whatever trance he was in, and he pulls her in for a hug.

“So, to celebrate the win and Ben’s assist, I’m thinking he should take us out for a nice dinner?” Alex suggests, smiling and nudging your arm.

“Shouldn’t you be buying me dinner?” Ben raises an eyebrow. When you both just laugh, he rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “Alright. I’ll go shower, you make a reservation somewhere.”

After you and Alex have picked out the fanciest-looking sushi place you could find online and collected Ben from the changing rooms, you make your way to his car. Just like after every game, the paparazzi are out trying to get videos and photos of the players leaving the stadium.

This time, however, most of the attention seems to be directed at you.

The lights begin to flash the moment you exit the building, and Ben reaches down to take your hand without a second of hesitation. Whether it’s to flaunt your “relationship” further or just to comfort you, you’re not sure, but it’s definitely working either way.

“Y/N, did you enjoy the match today?”

You know you don’t have to answer any of their questions, but you’d rather not be branded as cold or rude as the media loves to do when a woman ignores them.

So you squeeze Ben’s hand and nod, smiling at the man recording you.

“Of course, the team played really well.”

“And what did you think of Ben’s performance?” they fire back at you.

“He was amazing,” you say without missing a beat. “I always love watching him on the pitch.”

You can see Ben smiling at you as you speak - a genuine smile that you know has nothing to do with the cameras surrounding you - but he startles you slightly when he leans in to peck your cheek and lets his lips linger there for a moment. They’re soft and warm against your skin, and you feel significantly colder when they pull away.

You’ve clearly spurred on the media even more with this sudden display of affection, but Ben begins to pull you along with him and help you into the car before either of you has to answer any more questions.

You breathe out a sigh of relief as you settle into the passenger seat, Ben and Alex entering the car moments later.

“Nice show, you two,” Alex laughs, obviously still amused by the sight of you and Ben pretending to be a couple.

“You okay, Y/N?” Ben asks, looking over at you. “Sorry if the cheek kiss was too much. I know it’s a bit awkward.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you assure him, rolling your eyes. “It’s fine. Of course it’s gonna be awkward sometimes, but as long as it’s helping with the PR plan, right?”

Ben nods gratefully and smiles at you once more before asking Alex for directions to the sushi place.

You’re grateful for her chatting away about how hungry she is, and for the song Ben is playing loudly through the speakers as you drive to the restaurant, both of which are helping to distract you from how alarmingly not awkward this all feels.

A/N: let me know what your thoughts are after this chapter!! things start to heat up in the next one i promise ;)

tag list: @lunamelona @kathb59 @captainwans​ @amandaaa1025 @bbygrlllllll @cinderellawithashoe​ @batmansb1tch​ @ncentic​ (let me know if you would like to be added!)

[and-claudia]

His Heir pt. 27 (Darth Maul x pregnant reader)

IT IS FUCKING HAPPENING!!!! (What is "it" read and find out)

Masterlist

Taglist sign-up (From now on, when you sign up, you will receive a message from me either confirming that you are on the taglist or that you are not being added for not following my rules for being tagged. I have had multiple people check off that their age is posted on their page but when I go to check it is not, I WILL NOT TAG AGELESS BLOGS it's a personal preference and I really need y'all that aren't reading that part to read that and respect my decision on that)

Warnings: mentions of throwing up (yay), mentions of medical stuff

Word count: 1585

Waking up in Maul’s bed felt different now. It felt… nauseating? Shit. 

I quickly shoved Maul’s arms off of me and scrambled to get off of the bed. I was cursing the fact that he had such a massive bed. My frantic movements quickly woke him up. He could be heard behind me as I finally freed myself from the comforter and made it to the refresher. Maul followed in quickly behind me. I dropped to my knees and began to empty the contents of my stomach. It felt like it was taking every ounce of my energy away, and I gripped the sides of the seat for support. 

Maul has learned that if I was getting sick, I didn’t like to be crowded. I needed my space. Even if he wanted to be by my side for comfort, he knew better. So he stood over by the vanity, prepping a cool rag for once I was finished. Once it finally felt like nothing would come up, I sat back on my heels and let out a small groan as I lifted my head up. 

“Finished?” His voice didn’t hold any annoyance or disgust, he was just concerned. 

“Yeah… yeah, I think so…” I said nodding slowly before wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. 

He walked over and handed me the rag to which I gave a small thanks. I wiped the sweat off my face and the back of my neck. Maul offered me his hand and I hesitated to take it. 

“Not yet.” I mumbled. 

Maul gave me a small frown and sat down with me, still giving me some space in case I got sick once again. I took a few more deep breaths and after I decided it was only nausea and I wasn’t going to actually throw up again I scooted closer to Maul. He immediately shifted to allow me to sit between his leg, my back to him, and lean back into him as his arms came to wrap around my middle loosely. I sighed and relaxed into him, turning my head to rest it against my shoulder, blocking out the light of the room. 

“I thought this was supposed to end after the first trimester.” I whined slightly. 

I had just entered week 19 of my pregnancy. I hadn’t gotten sick since week 16 almost and now it seems as though it has come back with vengeance. 

“I’m sorry dear.” Maul said, rubbing a hand up and down my side.

We sat in silence for a few minutes before I spoke up again. 

“What time is it?” 

“Just about time to start getting ready.” 

I sighed. 

“If you want, we can just go to your appointment then I can bring you back here so you can rest for the day.” Maul offered.

I shook my head, “No, I need to keep working.” I insisted. 

“The only thing you need to do is keep yourself and our baby healthy.” He said back.

I knew he was right. Ever since the nausea came back work had been kicking my ass. But there was a lot to plan for. Maul and I were finding out the gender today but were going to keep it between us for a few weeks then host a banquet to announce it to everyone, Dasar had sent us the invitation to their wedding and so we were trying to figure out the logistics of that, it seemed like everyone was requesting meetings with Maul, it was just a lot. 

“Okay…” I finally sighed, sitting up so he could get off the floor and then help me get up as well. 

I got dressed and went to the kitchen where Maul had prepared a small breakfast for us. 

“I wasn’t sure if you’re appetite was still there, but you need to eat something at least.” He said. 

I nodded and grabbed a piece of toast off his plate. 

“Thank you.” 

After we ate we both finished getting ready for work before leaving for the day. We walked into Maul’s office before he lead me into mine and Qi’ra’s and over to my desk. 

“I’ll come to check on you around lunchtime, I have meetings until then. In the meantime, if your appetite comes back anymore try to eat something, okay?” Maul said as I sat down. 

I nodded, “I will.” I sighed as I leaned back into my chair more, grateful that Maul had gotten me a new one. 

He nodded before leaning over and pressing a kiss to my forehead.  

“I’ll see you later dear.” 

I turned in my chair and watched him walk out. 

“He’s quite affectionate today.” Qi’ra commented once he was through the door and it had closed behind him. 

“Yeah, I think he’s just excited about my appointment later today. We’re going to attempt to find out the gender, again.” I said as I turned on my datapad and began working on it. 

“I thought you guys already knew?” 

“We were supposed to find out a few weeks ago but the way they were positioned, the med droid couldn’t get a clear image. They’re quite stubborn, like their father.” I said with a small laugh. 

“So, if it’s not a boy, are you going to wait a while and try again?” She asked. 

I could tell her question was genuine but it still rubbed me the wrong way. I knew traditionally an heir is male, but if Maul and I were to have a daughter, she’d be just as good an heir as a son would be. It made me worry some if it were a girl, would she be accepted as well as a boy would be? 

“No, if it’s a girl she’d be his heir.” I said, slightly snappy.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that… He mentioned your appetite wasn’t there this morning. Is everything okay?” She asked, changing the subject.

“Morning sickness came back, and it came back strong.” I sighed, leaning back, one hand on my stomach, the other still holding my datapad. 

“Remind me to never have kids.” She said causing us both to laugh. 

The day passed without much more excitement. When Maul came to see me during lunch I informed him that my appetite had returned and that I was starving. So we each took a small break to go have lunch in his office. Then after that, it was back to work. The closer we got to my appointment though, the more anxious I got. 

I was in the middle of reviewing a report from a lower advisor when Maul walked in. 

“Are you ready, dear?” Maul’s voice caused me to jump slightly. 

“Shit! Don’t scare me like that!” I said, turning off the device. 

Maul stifled a laugh, “My apologies. Are you ready to head to the appointment?” 

“Yes, will you help me with my shoes?” I asked, seeing as I had slipped them off under my desk earlier.

He nodded and came over to help. 

“Lady Qi’ra, com me if anything happens.” He said, after he helped me stand up, I wasn’t to the point where I quite needed the help but it was appreciated nonetheless because I knew I would actually start needing it soon. 

“Yes, Lord Maul.” She said giving us a small nod as we walked out. 

I opted to hold Maul’s hand instead of his arm as we walked. I hadn’t realized quite how hard I was holding it either. 

“Are alright dear?” He asked. 

“Yes, nervous is all.” I reassured him as we walked into the medical unit. 

No one was there, Maul always made sure that my appointments were completely private. So we walked in and were taken straight back. They did all the necessary check-ups that needed to be done on me and the baby before beginning the actual scan. 

“Have they moved into a better position to tell what we're having?” I asked as the droid silently ran the probe across my belly. 

“Yes, I have a clear view now. Would you like to know the sex of the baby?” The droid asked. 

I looked to Maul, and he gave me a small nod. 

“Yes, please.” I said, squeezing Maul’s hand. 

“Congratulations, it’s a boy.” 

It took a second for the words to process. Suddenly everything felt so real. Maul and I weren’t just having a baby. I wasn’t just carrying his heir. We were going to have a son, our own little boy. 

“Leave us.” I heard Maul say to the droid, though it felt like he was far away. 

He cleaned off the gel from my stomach before helping me sit up. His hands came to cup my cheeks as he wiped away my tears with his thumbs. 

“A boy, Yn, we’re going to have a son.” He said, smiling brightly. 

I nodded and grabbed his hands mine to move them from my cheeks to my stomach. My hands rested on top of his as I looked up at him. 

“That’s our baby boy…” I smiled before leaning up to kiss him. 

He pulled away and rested his forehead against mine. 

“I know… It feels a lot more real now, doesn’t it?” 

I nodded slightly. 

“We can’t tell anyone though. Not until the gala.” I said. 

“I won’t. We should get to planning that soon though.” 

“Yes, but let’s just celebrate tonight.” I asked smiling as he smirked back at me knowing exactly how I wanted to celebrate. 

A/N: I KNOW everyone LOVES Girl Dad! Maul but when I first had this concept I wanted him to have his son first to rectify the childhood that he never got as a boy.

A/N2: I already have a name picked out, but I want to hear y'all's theories on names

Taglist: @fan-g0rl @mxkyrie @onceuponanightmareisawme @lothiriel9 @wordsfromshona @kgbtardis @wondermia69 @mh073099 @ktrivia @fifithexeno @perseny @justalittletomato @pomiotszatana @ameliachastain @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @its-me-meg @kbarnes-2001@bluusugar @happyheartsss @clairebear1621 @rljart @xxxqueenlaufeysonxxxxo @lilallybug @ghoulishjester @kizzyxren @welcometothepedroverse @kaos-bringer @asxrum @kittenlover614 @kugelblubb90

[erin-bo-berin]

Couple of things in response to your anon queries over the last few days:

- Joe’s playing a prominent recurring character in Fargo. He’s Gator Tillman, the son of the main character, corrupt sheriff Roy Tillman (John Hamm). You’ll be getting more than one episode, don’t worry about that! Also - and I’m sorry if you already know this, but just to clarify- it’s not set in 2019, not the old west. I think people got the cowboy idea because Noah Hawley wrote an (excellent) article for The Atlantic called “It’s High Noon in America,” which was both a political commentary, and a reflection on how entertainment contributes to issues like distrust of authority by creating heroes who go against the system etc. In it, he shared a sample of S5 dialogue between Roy and Gator, which mentioned “high noon”:

Gator: “I swear to God, him versus me, man to man, and I'd wipe the floor with him.”

Roy: “What, like high noon? That only happens in the movies, son. In real life they slit your throat waiting for the light to change.”

I mean, Joe might still be playing a cowboy-ish type character if he works on a ranch I suppose? But as far as I know, there’s nothing to suggest that’s the case.

- Joe is well positioned to have a great career after ST ends. I’m a bit puzzled as to why anyone’s concerned for him to be honest! Free Guy was very well received and many reviews specifically mentioned Joe’s charm and his lovely chemistry with Jodie. One critic even said - and I quote - “Joe Keery proves he’s going to be just fine when Stranger Things ends.” Add to that, although Spree was controversial, it was still received more positive reviews than less glowing ones (thanks, tomatometer), and even negative reviews of the film praised Joe’s performance.

So that’s recent history. Looking at his current work, he has two films in the can, is currently filming Fargo, then starts Cold Storage, and then in 2024 goes back to filming ST. The guy is as busy as an actor could hope for. Going forward, even if none of the films make an impact (and that’s a big ‘if’, because I suspect Cold Storage at least is going to do very well), Fargo will raise his profile even higher than it already is.

Oh, and then there’s his music. We all know he’s genuinely talented in that regard, and so do the critics. But he’s deliberately flown under the radar with it, and so many people are missing out. Djo doesn’t even have a Wikipedia page for crying out loud. Maya Hawke, who has less than a third of the Spotify listeners Djo has, has a wiki page for each album! No hate for Maya - her stuff’s not my thing but it’s cool. I just think Joe’s music manager (who’s different to his acting one) is sleeping on that front.

Sorry for the Joe Keery essay. I’m just a huge supporter because he’s so talented, and is also genuinely lovely. People who’ve worked with him want to do it again, in large part because of his personality. We know the combination of those traits is what changed the trajectory of his character in ST, which was a remarkable thing in of itself. David Harbour, Brett Gelman, and Kevin Pollack have all pointed out how unusual it was, and praised both Joe and the Duffer Bros for it. It’s kind of refreshing to see someone in Hollywood getting rewarded for being a decent person, in addition to having acting abilities.

Joe deserves every success. Long may it continue!

Oh wow thanks for all the info! I’ve never seen Fargo but man I will happily watch it to see him in it.

I’m so excited for him in Cold Storage. I ended up reading the book after someone on here told me it was actually a book first and Joe is just gonna nail the character. Teacake is such a loveable dork lol

I agree though! He’s been doing so good even without ST fame. He’s gotten some big projects coming up and a handful at that. Also his music to keep him busy too and it really is such a shame that his music is so underrated because his music really is so good 🥺

[expectos-writings]

Meant to be part 2 (Otto Octavius x reader)

Word count: 2834

Rating: G

Summary: You try and get to know a but more about Otto before dropping the bomb, but things don’t go according your plan...

(A/n: part 2, also nwh spoilers, I am testing yalls patience and am once again proving that I am incapable of writing short things

After your bathroom visit, your attitude shifted. The adrenaline of the shock you got from your discovery coursing through your veins. When you walked back towards the basement your mind was reeling. All thoughts about school were forgotten when you thought about your current situation. There was no way you were going to tell him about this. You only just met him, and he hadn’t made a great first impression.

 To you, Otto seemed short-tempered, grumpy and not interested in any of this soulmate stuff. The first two could be explained by him being warped into another universe. The last, you could be wrong about it of course because you hadn’t said anything on the topic to him. The real question still remained whether or not the soulmate system was the same in his own universe as well. And if you do decide to say something, would he think of the age gap between you as a problem?

 You expected you would feel grossed out, the age gap was quite apparent. But something deep inside you was glad to have finally found the person you had been looking for, even if he was the embodiment of a grumpy old man. You were sure of one thing, you were not going to tell him. not yet, at least. If only you could get a glimpse of his wrist without him seeing it or noticing your gaze.

The distraction lifted your spirits, and you went back towards your computer with your mind buzzing with new thoughts. You re-opened your laptop without a word and started searching for the other presences you were told about. Ned and Peter were on Neds computer and MJ was on hers, doing the same as you. You searched the recent news tabs of google, some social medias and some news sites. There were a lot of disturbances and events, but not anything related to the spell Strange had cast. It got kind of boring, non stop refreshing of the news sites and nothing coming up. You decide to search this man who was supposed to be your soulmate once more, but nothing popped up.

 And even if you did get the chance to tell him, he probably had his own life back in his own universe. It felt like it was not your place to mess that up. So you get back to your task. For what seems like hours all four of you search the internet, finding nothing or only false leads. It was quiet in the basement too, the only noises where the occasional grunting from the two villains, the whirring of the actuators keeping Otto in place whenever he tried to move and the four of you exchanging words from time to time to keep each other updated.

 Then, at long last, Ned was the one to speak up. His voice laced with excitement as he found a page filled with people calling in about some guy floating around in some forest. The four of you crowded behind his laptop but within minutes you were sure this was also one of the people you were looking for. Peter went to put on his suit, quickly giving instructions before swinging out to find the source of commotion.

 MJ and Ned were tasked with helping him find the exact location of the floating man, and you were assigned to keep searching the internet and keep an eye on the two already caught villains. MJ and Ned moved to the room on ground level, not wanting to excite the villains any more nor distract you from your search. This left you alone with Curt and Otto.

 It took Peter quite some time to fly over, so there was just regular conversation on the radio next to your desk. If things went south, you could chime in via the device. Your eyes trailed from your laptop to Otto. If only you could just tell him what you’d discovered… You looked him over, he was actually really attractive. He was tall, his dark locks curled on the top of his head. You feel yourself spacing out, just admiring his face but not seeing anything. You never knew how long you were spaced out for, but a cough from the man you were looking at brought you back to earth. You felt your cheeks warm up, he caught you staring. Damnit.

 You quickly avert your gaze back to your laptop, acting as if nothing happened. But he would not let you get away with that so easily.

 ‘You know it’s rude to stare, dear?’ he says in a soft voice. Your head snaps back up at the pet name. It was probably some form of habit for him to use it, but to you it was anything but usual, especially with what you knew. You try to come up with some form of excuse, not wanting to drop the bomb just yet. Rephrasing, not READY to drop the bomb just yet.

 ‘Oh, I wasn’t… I was just… wondering…’ you say, unsure where you were going with this.

 ‘And what does that mean?’ he half-snaps, half-asks. It’s almost like he wants to continue the conversation but something in him is stopping him at the same time…

 ‘Well, if you’re from another universe… what else is different between these universes? Are some things the same? Are some people maybe even the same?’ The thought of another Otto Octavius existing in your universe has crossed your mind, maybe because he was from another universe it was enough to change the age into a name on your arm, but he didn’t have to be the one.

 ‘Well not all people are the same. Your Peter Parker is not my Peter Parker for example.’ You look up at him as he talks, his expression looks softer than before, he actually looks like he wants to talk about this.

 ‘But, like, even though they are different Peters they did the same studies, led very similar lives AND share the same name, right?’ You ask him, curiosity getting the better of you. You wanted to get him to talk about himself, to get to know him better.

 ‘Yes, I suppose so, where are you going with this?’ he asks, matching your curiosity.

 ‘Then why can’t I find anything on you on the whole internet? It’s like, you never existed in this universe…’ you say, slightly disappointed you hadn’t found anything about an Otto Octavius in your universe. ‘Both of you!’ You quickly add, trying to make it sound less stalker-y.

 Otto, being the smart man he is, sees right through you. A smile creeps onto his face, he likes your curiosity. Being a man of science, he believes willingness to discover things is a wonderful trait not all people posses, but you seem to be showing a great deal of it.

 ‘So, there was no professor in your universe who accidentally blew up his lab trying to recreate a small scale sun to provide an unlimited power source to the world and got four metal appendages melted to his back at the same time?’ He asks dryly.

 You let out a small chuckle, his blunt statement caught you off guard.

 ‘No, I think I would’ve remembered a news story like that.’ You watch him as a small smile creeps onto his lips as well. The tense atmosphere in the room seems to have been diffused. Curt remained silent, and it looked like he was fast asleep in the back corner of his cell.

 ‘So,’ you continue, deciding to press your luck a bit further, ‘What else did you do in your past universe? Besides causing explosions.’

 He chuckles again, and you immediately grow fond of the sound, wanting to hear more of it.

 ‘I used to work at Oscorp, with Norman Osborn. I did some teaching on occasions… that is about it.’ You heard that name before, wasn’t that the man he believed to be dead but was sighted on the bridge earlier? His answer doesn’t provide the answers you were hoping for.

 ‘So how about your sun-project, what happened?’

 ‘I miscalculated… Normans son, Harry, funded me for years. But the demonstration went wrong. Then with the help of these actuators I rebuilt the machine, but bigger. Spider-man was trying to stop me, I had him by his throat when…’ his voice trailed off.

 ‘When what?’ you tried to get him to keep talking.

 ‘Then I was here…’ he said, looking around. You could almost see the gears in his brain turning, trying to figure out how he had magically transported from that moment in space and time to this one.

 ‘So, you have a family too? Like Osborn?’ you try and sound as nonchalant as possible, your eyes lazily shifting between him and your laptop.

 ‘No, I was too busy with my project to ever look for things like that.’ He brushed your question off, not realizing this was exactly the answer you were hoping for. Could this really be your soulmate then? Your eyes sparkled with hope, but he was to lost in his own words to notice, his eyes still looking around his cell. His brown eyes looked big, he looked a bit like a lost puppy. ‘My machine… it was gone, disappeared into nothing.’

 ‘I’m sorry to hear that, we are doing what we can to fix this.’ You say. The realization dawning on you that he would have to go back sooner or later. A wave of sadness rolls over you, and you turn your back to him trying to hide your tears. He was too busy to notice anyways.

 The noise coming from the radio on your table gets louder, voices are shouting back and forth. ‘Left! No! Right!’. You turn down the volume a bit, reaching forward over the table to do so.

 ‘Wait!’ You hear from the left cell. Apparently, Curt has woken up too.

 ‘Good morning to you too, sir’ you say, sarcasm dripping from your voice.

 ‘Your wrist, is that a tattoo, or a soulmate mark?’ His question catches you off guard. The colour draining from your face. Now what not the time for the villain in the second cell to find out about this. You decide to bluff.

 ‘Just a tattoo, why?’ You try to sound calm, but the panic was quite evident in your voice. Both scientists ignore it, however.

 ‘Well, in my universe, your soulmates age is on your wrist until you make eye contact, and it changes into their name. Of course, in lizard form mine isn’t visible,’ he chuckled dryly ‘I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting mine yet, it just says ‘40’’.

 Of course, age appropriate.

 ‘We have that too,’ Otto starts, and he starts rolling up his sleeve. ‘but I also haven’t been able to find mine yet. Though I’m pretty sure mine is wrong, there is no way my soulmate is twenty-o-’. Otto’s expression was unreadable as he stares in shock at his wrist. ‘Well I’ll be damned…’.

 ‘What’s up, doc?’ Kurt asks, and you feel a warm glow engulfing your face. Shit.

 ‘It says ‘Y/n’.’ he says, looking around the room. ‘I looked her in the eyes, and never realized it was her…’ Otto says, his head dropping.

 You realize what happened then.

 You never introduced yourself!

 He has no idea…

 The room goes silent for a moment, Otto wondering how he once again overlooked such an important thing, and both Kurt and you too afraid to break the silence. The only noise heard was the radio emitting soft noises op people frantically screaming, the volume was set way down.

 Then the whole room shook, and all 3 of you were rudely taken back to the here and now, when an enormous tree was suddenly dropped into the third cell.

 What the…

 Ned and MJ run down the stairs.

 ‘Everyone okay?’ MJ asks quickly. All three of you answer yes and you move up from your seat, standing by MJ and Ned. ‘What was that?’ You ask, pointing towards the tree in the basement.

 ‘Peter found two other men, is all we know. We are waiting for him to beam them in here, but his first shot went straight through one… these are both different men than the one on the bridge.’ MJ continues.

 Some time passes and the radio silence continues, Peter was too busy rounding up the two guys to respond to you at the moment. Then after moments of nothing, the next man was beamed in. He looked angry, electricity shooting from his fingers making the lights in the room flicker. You look up to the lights, which soon stabilize and resume their emittance. When you look back down the 5th cell was also occupied, by a man made of… sand? Could this day get any stranger?

 Peter called in after that to ask if all the people he beamed in are there, which you told him was the case. The villains started talking amongst themselves, some of them appeared to come from the same universe and were catching up with each other. Otto stayed silent, not knowing any of them it seemed. The sandman also stayed quiet, occasionally looking over at Otto but never saying a word.

 You, Ned and MJ decide to move on with the internet searches. The man on the bridge was still on the loose.

 You didn’t get much time to search, when Peter showed back up with another man.

 ‘Guys, this is Norman Osborn, the man from the bridge.’ He introduced you all to him. you were weary at first but decide that in this state, Norman is not a threat to you. He shook your hand to make introductions but got distracted when he looked into the second cell, a flash of recognition crossed his face.

 ‘Octavius?’ He spoke to the man with his back turned. Otto spun around like he had seen a ghost.

 ‘Osborn?’ he responded, but his mind was struggling to catch up.

 ‘What happened to you?’ Norman asked, referring to the whole tentacle situation his friend had going on.

 ‘What happened to-, YOU’RE the walking corpse!’

 Confusion ensued. But it quickly became clear that 3 of the 5 guys in this dungeon should have been dead, at least at some point in their respective universes.

 Strange came back at that point, and without even letting Peter speak he shot Norman in a cell of his own. You didn’t want to send the guys back like this, especially if this Otto really is your soulmate, it wasn’t fair. It seems Peter thought the same thing, because as Strange was about to reverse the spell he took the box. Their fighting ended up outside but when you came out there to watch and try to help, they were nowhere to be found.

 You walk back in to MJ and Ned.

 ‘So, let’s say Peter manages to get the spell and gets a shot at curing these guys, where do we go?’

 ‘Aunt may already offered up her appartement when she met Norman, we could go there.’ MJ offered.

 ‘Maybe you could already go over there? You could disable the security cameras so Happy won’t find out!’ Ned said.

 While you were a media student, you knew a bit of basic coding. You and Peter did it from time to time. Without further arguing you left the sanctum, desperate to get away. There were too many villains and one of them was probably your soulmate? You weren’t ready for that conversation with Otto. He was pleasant to talk with, but you didn’t want all those prying eyes looking at you when you had this conversation with him. It was, after all, only a matter of time before he would find out your name…

 You walk over to Happy’s place, shutting down the security system without to much trouble before sitting down on the couch and turning on the tv. The daily bugle was on with some weird report on spider-man. Though usually their conspiracy theories were way off… this time they were actually really close. ‘Spider-man aids the notorious new villains in town.’

 Your phone suddenly rang, it was MJ.

 ‘Y/n! Did you get everything set up?’

 ‘Sure did! Peter get the spell?’

 ‘Yes, he trapped Strange in the mirror dimension and all, we’ll tell you later. Peter will be there soon with the guys, get ready.’ She says. You thank her for the info and hang up waiting around for the guys for a bit longer.

 Meanwhile Otto’s mind was reeling. As he was walking towards the van, he overheard MJ calling you. When you answered the phone, she said your name… he couldn’t remember exactly but it sounded familiar. You racked his brain, but he could not place it.

 That is until he sat down in the van.

 And he looked down at his hands.

 And there, on his wrist, it was again.

 ‘Y/n’

 ‘Shit…’ he muttered to himself.

[jujutsubabe]

“This is so pathetic”

Synopsis: In which you and Megumi get really touch starved after not seeing each other for too long 😌

Word count: 1.8k

A/n: reposting this cause the last one got super blocked! It got no likes at all omg

————

You laid in Megumi’s bed squinting up at a textbook you were supposed to be taking notes on. As you stared all the words blurred together the longer you went over them and Itadori’s mumbling as he read aloud made you lose focus.

You sighed before reaching over the bed to tap his head. “Itadori can you please read in your head.”

Nobora clicked her tongue from across the room, “You’re almost an adult and you still can’t read in your head!?”

“I can’t help it, it helps me focus better.” He whined.

“Well if you could, could you just,” you pinched your fingers, “quiet down a little more, I’d love that.”

“If you could read in your head I’d love that.” Nobora grinned.

As Itadori pouted you moved the text book up and down, trying to see if a change in movement would do you better. You squinted, glared, flipped pages, whatever, no matter what the words continued to jumble.

You dropped the book and looked over to Megumi, he sat at his desk effortlessly writing away. It looked as though he did this daily, skimming his eyes over the pages and flipping within seconds. He had filled notes piled all over his desk in messy, but organized stacks.

You turned your head to the few sheets of notes you took, with margins full of doodles. You had to write so much more information.

If only you, Nobora and Itadori hadn’t slacked off all day watching movies, you would be at the same level as him. Or better yet, finished!

You popped some candy Itadori bought into your mouth. You had all been studying for hours, you figured it could be time for a bit of movement.

You hopped over Itadori’s legs to the door, “I’m gonna get a drink from the vending machine, anyone wanna come?”

Nobora shook her head, “I’m good, can you bring two sodas for me though?” She fluttered her eyelashes until you rolled your eyes and held your hand out. She squealed before placing some quarters in your palm. “You can keep the change!”

“Thanks.” With what she gave you, you’d have enough change leftover to throw one penny at someone's car. “Anyone else?”

Megumi stood from his chair while Itadori looked up from his game, “I'll go.” They said at once.

They turned to each other, Itadori’s face full of interest while Megumi’s was full of anything but that. You didn’t like being around people for a long period of time, but he really didn’t like it. Especially when they were in his space for this long.

He did tell them to “go somewhere” but like usual you all didn’t listen and procrastinated all day. Leaving a loud group of teens within Megumi’s quiet space was torture, you swore if you squinted you could see him twitching every time anyone talked.

You looked between the boys, Megumi probably needed an excuse to go outside. You hoped Itadori would somehow get that.

Itadori cocked his head, not reading the room. “Nice! It’ll be the three of us the—”

Before he could finish Megumi already slipped out and slid the door shut, leaving Itadori hanging with his mouth open. Nobora laughed at him.

———————

The two of you walked in silence, Megumi thinking and you in your own little world. The sounds of your footsteps echoed as you walked along the pavement.

He wondered what you were thinking about as you hummed and blew on your hands. Your sweater didn’t have any pockets so you kept pulling your sleeves over them.

“Are you cold?” Megumi asked.

You nodded but continued to rub your hands together, “But we might get caught if we hold hands.”

The two of you were dating. Very secretly, only being romantic whenever you had definite private places to kiss and hold hands. If it was in public it would be you giving a quick peck to his cheek or his hand slipping into yours.

You two wanted it to be a quiet relationship, at least until your friends and teacher happened to catch you guys, which you were both very careful to avoid. He figured as soon as the group found out it would be full of so much chatter and teasing, something you both weren’t too interested in dealing with at the moment.

He flicked his eyes around the building then held his hand out, “No ones here.”

“Are you sure…? What if Gojo comes out of nowhere?” You checked your surroundings as you whispered.

The two of you silently listened for any rustling or footsteps of some kind. He continued to glance at you while your eyebrows pushed together, when you were focused on something he thought you had the sweetest expressions.

Even you looking frustrated made him feel soft, like today when you struggled with that book. It was cute and he couldn’t help but look at you every so often, whenever someone looked back at him he would turn and start writing something random down. He had a few piles of paper with random crap all over it… he really hoped Nobora or Itadori didn’t check his notes while he was gone.

He looked down at the hands by your sides, at this point he didn’t care if the relationship got exposed to everyone.

“Please.” He mumbled.

You pulled on your ears, leaning forward to hear him again. “Huh, what’d you say?”

He squirmed the longer you looked at him. “I didn’t say anything...” he looked away the closer you got to his face.

“You didn’t? I thought I heard you say something.” You backed down, teetering on your toes.

“I…” his tongue tied as he tried to spit out what he wanted to say. It felt like he was confessing to you all over again. He internally groaned as he lost courage to say the words that he felt were too embarrassing to share. “This is so pathetic…”

You grinned, “What are you trying to say? Is it that bad?”

He shook his head, covering his mouth as he circled his brain about how to say his thoughts. Get it together! You two are dating. This shouldn’t be that hard to express, why was he struggling so bad with this?

He glanced down at your hands, flickering his eyes between your face and them. You were shivering and he wanted to do something nice, and he also kind of didn’t see you all day. So he didn’t understand why it was so embarrassing to admit it.

You followed his gaze down before twisting your hand around. “Are you trying to ask if you can hold my hand?”

He frowned, it was even more embarrassing for you to catch onto him...

“So that’s what it was?” You pulled his hand away from his mouth, pulling it up to your lips. “That’s not bad, it’s cute.”

You gave a quick peck to his knuckles, making him let out a flustered noise he tried to eat up with a cough. His brows knitted together as he tried his best to look away, he must have felt overwhelmed or something, your hands were cold but so much warmth spread through his arm.

You two hadn’t held hands in so long, it was like that first sip of drinking cold water on a hot day. You were refreshing, well needed company after a long day.

He intertwined your hands correctly, fingers wrapped up in each other, held inbetween the center of you both.

“I missed you.” He whispered.

You grinned as you squeezed his hand, “I missed you too.”

He let out a sigh, letting the corners of his mouth twitch into a smile as you two stared at each other. The crickets cooed and the wind wisped soundly against the grass, if you listened closer you could hear the whirring of cars on the main roads.

You turned your head closer to his, looking up to him as you cupped his cheek. Your eyes danced over every feature of his face as he looked down at you with his glossy, painted like eyes.

He leaned down, fluttering his pretty lashes shut as you pulled him in closer. Up until your lips touched, a light butterfly kiss that felt like a small cloud graced your face. You could feel him smiling the second your lips touched, his hands moved to your waist, pulling you in just a tad bit deeper.

Your lips were soft, pushing onto his with a gentle squish. He was a little too excited for this. But who could blame him? With the way you touched him it made him warm on the inside, you had him wrapped around your finger with every smooch.

You grazed his cheek with your hands pressing kisses all over his face. He felt himself go weak under your fingertips, every press of your lips against his face made his heart rise into his throat.

How did he get someone like you?

This felt right to him, pulling you away from friends for a night time kiss felt needed. You pulled away, tapping his cheeks while he blinked his eyes open.

His eyes glided over your features, the moon highlighting every lovely aspect of your face. He ran his thumb over your cheek, making space, about to give you one more kiss before he heard a gasp.

“Fushiguro you creep! What are you doing!?”

The two of you flipped around to see Nobora with Itadori trailing right behind her. Itadori’s face dropped open while Nobora’s face twisted into itself.

“Yeah Fushiguro, get it!” Itadori pumped his fist up and down.

You were blinking and taking in your surroundings, one second you were being romantic with your boyfriend, the next you were caught by your friends. You looked between the two wondering where they even came from.

“Why are you guys out here?”

“I didn’t tell you what sida to get and you two were taking a long time!” Nobora pinched your cheek until you apologized.

You rubbed the side of your face as you checked your pocket for change, you forgot she sent you out here. You were too caught up in this quiet boy’s eyes to realize people could have gotten suspicious if you didn’t hurry.

You sighed, nothing you could do now, Itadori was already embarrassing Megumi and you couldn’t help but giggle. As hectic as this situation was, at least now you two could show a tad more affection in public. Nothing more than holding hands, but this reaction from the two wasn’t bad.

You cocked your head, though sweet, this situation felt a little too calm… you looked around as you thought of something that was missing in this situation, like an almost full puzzle piece with one left to fill.

Itadori sighed, “I can’t believe Fushiguro started dating before us…”

“Right it’s not fair…” Nobora nodded solemnly.

Megumi scoffed as the two moped. Scolding them for ‘not minding their business’ as you laughed at them. It was so cute seeing your friends like this over your secret relationship, you couldn’t help but feel a tad bit happy your secret was released.

That was until you heard shuffling from around the corner. You all turned your heads until you heard a voice.

“Did I hear Megumi and dating in the same sentence?” Gojo slipped from the deep dark shadows below, a goofy smile wrapped around his cheeks.

Ah there it is, the missing piece.

[rainydaydream-gal18]

(TFATWS) Bucky x Reader: Protective- Part 1

 (Author’s Note: I watched TFATWS and loved it.  So here we are).

 The tension had finally fizzled out an hour or so into the trip- at least for a little while.

   Your consulting criminal, Zemo, made himself comfortable as soon as he set foot on the jet.  He was leaning back in his seat across from you, looking very pleased as he read a book and took an occasional sip from his champagne glass.  His contented demeanor had visibly affected both of your friends, Sam and Bucky, causing their irritation with him to skyrocket earlier.  But after some of the confrontations concerning Bucky’s inherited notebook from Steve, Sam’s music, and Zemo’s observations of you, things had finally calmed down.

   He was a crafty one.  He knew how to push buttons, knew exactly what to say to trigger each individual’s weak points.  Things had begun to escalate especially when Zemo turned his attention to you.  His piercing gaze had you frozen in place as he made inquiries.  While he didn’t ask anything outwardly uncomfortable, the probing questions about your life were starting to make you uneasy.

   The other two males didn’t take too kindly to Zemo’s attempts at conversation with you.  Bucky stared out the window with his jaw clenched.  At one point, Sam let out an exasperated sigh, causing the criminal to halt mid-sentence. He leaned over to raise his brow at you diagonally across the aisle of the jet.   “_________, is he bothering you?”

   You didn’t have to speak: the look on your face said it all, and Sam shifted in his seat again to look over at Zemo.  “Alright, that’s enough.”  His tone was firm and leaving no room to question.

   Directly across the aisle from you to your right, Bucky’s shoulders relaxed when Zemo followed Sam’s command.  The jet had fallen silent except for the muffled whirring sounds of its mechanics.

   You pretended to skim through a magazine that you’d found laying on a tray.  With one hour down and twelve more to go on the flight, you felt the need to unwind a bit.  Everything had happened so fast from the moment you agreed to go with your friends to Berlin to see Zemo.  After Thanos’ horrible plan came to an end, things heated up when John Walker went public as “the new Captain America.”  He’d even offered you a place working with him since you were part of Team Cap back in the day.  You declined, of course, and found yourself even more determined to help Sam and Bucky.

   You were happy for Steve.  You were.  It was still hard to have him gone.  For years, ever since the Avengers broke apart over the Sokovia Accords and Bucky’s framing, you’d followed Steve.  Even before then, when it was discovered that Hydra had been infiltrating SHIELD, you’d left the broken agency to join him as he continued his fight against threats to the world

   You hadn’t imagined that you and the others would be left to keep fighting without him.

   “You in the market for a new grill?”

   You were drawn from your deep thought to a set of dark blue eyes that looked from you to the magazine page that you hadn’t turned in at least ten minutes.  You chuckled and closed the magazine, playing along.  “Yes, I figured with all this extra time, I’d do a little shopping.”

   The corner of Bucky’s mouth twitched up in a brief show of amusement.  You rose from the seat to go to his side, kneeling down beside his chair.

   “Why does he even have this?”  You lowered your voice as you glanced at the eccentric baron, setting the magazine back down onto the tray.  “You’d think there would be more European fashion magazines or something.”

   Bucky’s eyes flickered to the man in question before leaning in to speak in an equally quiet tone.  “I have to admit.  We lucked out with him.  Not only does he have a lead, but he’s got private transportation so we can stay under the radar.”

   “I think we made the the right choice going to him,” you replied.

   “We can only hope,” he muttered.  “Seriously though, what were you thinking about when you zoned out?”

   “Oh.”  You averted your gaze, playing with the hem of your jacket.  You didn’t want to delve into your train of thought.  It was plain as day that Bucky and Sam were both dealing with Steve’s departure in their own ways, and you didn’t want to add to it or open up any healing wounds.  So, you settled on being vague.  “Just...everything.”

   He seemed to know what you meant anyway.  The silence that followed made guilt gnaw in your chest, but before you could say anything, Bucky spoke.

   “Hey,” he nudged you with his shoulder, making you meet his gaze again.  His eyes had softened significantly and forehead smoothed in absence of the lines caused by furrowed brows.  It was a nice change from the scowl he had since the mission started.  “Sorry we dragged you into this.”

   You dismissed the apology with a casual wave of your hand.  “You guys didn’t drag me into anything.  I was along for the ride from the beginning.”

   A comfortable silence fell between you then.  He returned to gazing out the window while you stood up and headed back to your seat, sinking into it and letting your head tip forward.  You figured that a cat nap was in order since you hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before.  All that business with an internationally-known criminal breaking out of prison had you on edge.  With nothing but the sounds of occasional page-turning from Zemo’s book and Sam tapping his foot lightly to the beat of music he listened to on his phone with earbuds, sweet sleep claimed you in no time.

   You were pulled from your dreamless slumber by voices, but your body wasn’t ready to respond just yet.  The first thing you noticed was that you were leaning against something on your right side, your face resting on a soft material that held the scent of leather and cologne. Bucky’s scent.  It must’ve been his jacket balled up to serve as a pillow.  In fact, it was his voice rumbling closest to you.

   “Stop looking at her like that.”

   “Apologies, James, but I don’t know what you mean.”  Zemo’s accented voice was quieter, but there was a sprinkle of amusement in his tone.

   “You’re doing it right now.”

   “Bucky, come on,” Sam interjected.  “We managed to make it a few hours without killing the guy.  Don’t let him get to you now.”

   Zemo’s tone took on a new intensity, as if he was gripped by fascination.  “You seem very protective of __________.  The way you move around her is intriguing, as if prepared to defend her at a moment’s notice.”

   “Don’t engage,” Sam warned in a low voice.

   By now, you were almost fully awake.  Despite the potentially awkward situation that Zemo was creating with the analysis of your friend, you figured it would be best to intervene.  You shifted, blinking your eyes open.

   “What’s going on?” you muttered, voice still a little rough from sleep.  “It better be good because I haven’t slept that well in a while.”  You lifted your head from Bucky’s jacket, eyes darting up to see him staring out the window again.  “Sorry,” you muttered, brushing a bit of drool from his jacket before handing it back to him.  He stole a glance in your direction again, not seeming to mind.

   “No big deal.  You needed the sleep.”

   Bucky didn’t say another word, so you turned to Sam for answers.  He shrugged with the shake of his head.  “Zemo’s being... well, Zemo.”

   You nodded in understanding, as if that simple phrase was all the explanation you needed.  Zemo caught your gaze, the corners of his lips turning up a smile.

   “As I mentioned before, we will have to go undercover to meet with Selby in Madripoor.  I was merely thinking of disguises for you and Sam.”

   He seemed like was telling the truth, but you didn’t doubt that he relished the added bonus of getting under Bucky’s skin in the process.  While Bucky had been protective of you and those who chose to put themselves on the line to prove his innocence when it came to the UN bombing, you hadn’t expected him to be quite that defensive in this situation.  As flattering as it was in some ways, it made you worry.  Zemo knew what buttons to push.  Would he eventually push a button to make things go his way?  To forward some plan of his?

   You got up to stretch and use the refresher.  You took your time since there were still several hours left in the flight.  Zemo had informed the group that upon landing, there would be  limited window to get into costume and go over your characters before heading to Selby’s club.

   - - - - - - -  

   “Only an American would assume that a fashion-forward black man looks like a pimp,” Zemo complained.  You stole a glance at your friend who gave his outfit another displeased look.  “You look exactly like the man you’re supposed to be playing.  The sophisticated, charming African rake named Conrad Mack, aka the Smiling Tiger.”  He handed his phone over so Sam could get a look at his character’s picture.

   “He even has a bad nickname.  He does look like me, though.”

   “And who am I supposed to be?” you asked, pulling the jacket over your form tighter.  You wore a dark blue dress that went to your knees.  The material was soft and had a subtle glimmer in the light, and the outfit was complete with a pair of black heels that clacked on the pavement with each step, a shiny silver bracelet, and the black jacket that you were glad to have in the chilly air.  The group was walking to the halfway point of the bridge to be picked up.

   “You will be my date,” Zemo replied casually.

   You gave him an incredulous look.  “Really?  I’m just the date?”

   He released a sigh before launching into explanation.  “You don’t exactly resemble any crime bosses.  Besides, it’s not uncommon for dates to come and go in this town.  No one will be asking who you are.  No one will expect what’s coming to them if we need to fight.  You may have the greatest advantage out of all of us.”

   As much as you hated to admit it, he had a point.

   “Just remember to remain at my side at all times,” Zemo continued.  “Make it look convincing that we are together.”

   You refused to meet his amused look.  “Yeah, yeah.  Whatever.”

   A black car idled just ahead, and Zemo once more reiterated how important it was to stay in character. He told the group about High Town and Low Town, though you were a little distracted by the city lights reflecting off the water.

   You squeezed into the backseat between Bucky and Sam.  The ride was tense with only the sound of your breaths in the small space.  Bucky stared straight ahead through the windshield even as motorcycles surrounded the car and escorted it the rest of the way.  The car dropped you all off near the club, and Zemo held out his hand to help you out of the vehicle.  He put an arm around your waist at a respectful level, but Bucky took one look and halted.

   “Okay, this isn’t going to work,” Bucky snapped.  Everyone’s eyes were on him.

   Sincerity was written all over Zemo’s features as he responded.  “I assure you, it will.” Suddenly, his eyes flickered with realization, though you glanced between the two men in confusion.  “I know you don’t trust me, James, and I understand your discomfort.  However, you are playing the part of the Winter Soldier.  It is best if she remains inconspicuous as my date.”

   “Wait, that’s what this is about?” Sam asked in disbelief.  “Who ________ pretends to date?”  Your eyes fell to the pavement.  The situation was already unpleasant.  The last thing you wanted was to bring confusing feelings into the mix while in the middle of an important mission.

   Bucky began to protest.  “No, I-”

   “Relax,” Sam said, holding up his hands to show he meant no offense.  “________, you can stay by me.  Smiling Tiger can have a date, right?”  He looked to Zemo for confirmation.

   “Excellent idea.”  He nodded in approval.  “Just remember to stay in character.  All of you.”  

(Link to Part 2)

[atlabeth]

transferred part 20 - atla smau

part 19 | masterlist | epilogue

summary: trying to run from your past is hard, but falling for your brother’s roommate is even harder. little do you know that he’s falling for you as well.

a/n: me when i have to write more than 5 words in a series thats supposed to be a smau

anywho! basically the last chapter?? which is crazy?? filled with heartfelt emotions and the moment that you've all been waiting for, it's a wild ride. so strap in and enjoy. the epilogue will be posted later today so i can finally wrap this series up!! and dont worry theres a super long sappy authors note on the epilogue. LETS GET INTO IT

wc: 2.3k

warning(s): cursing, mentions of alcohol, hurt/comfort, one suggestive comment, mentions of toxic relationships, reader talking about her self sabotaging behavior and burnout, Bad Coping Methods (dont disappear kids)

-

“You haven’t seen her?” Zuko sighed as the same words he had heard on repeat for the past hour played through his ears again. “It’s alright, thank you. Have a good night.”

He shook his head at his friends, their defeated expressions mirroring his own as he leaned against the kitchen island. He ran an exhausted hand through his hair, and he couldn’t help but think of the countless times you had done it for him.

“Your sister doesn’t play when it comes to theatrics,” Aang lamented as he plopped on the couch next to Sokka.

“Tell me about it,” he muttered. “I mean, she doesn’t pull stuff like this. Sometimes she went over the top when she was younger, staying out a little too late or doing something stupid, but she never just… she never just tried to disappear like this. I.. I guess she was too worried about Katara and me to do anything like that, but still.” He knocked back the rest of the seltzer and tossed the can on the table — alcohol was tempting, but none of them wanted to be any less than completely aware tonight.

“We all knew she was hurting,” Sokka continued. “Not even she could be fine after everything that happened with Hahn, especially the day after, but I— I guess I thought that she would open up before just dropping off the radar completely!

“No news from the girls,” Aang announced, prompting a collective sigh from the other two boys. “I gotta give it to her, she’s been very thorough with this.”

“Of course she has. It’s classic Y/N — she can disappear without a trace, sure, but she can’t put enough effort into picking up some supplies for my project on her way home.” It was a lame attempt to lighten the mood, and though he got a weak chuckle out of Aang, it was radio silence on Zuko’s part.

“Hey, buddy.” It didn’t snap him out of his reverie, and Sokka seriously contemplated throwing his empty soda can at him. “You okay?”

“She didn’t even say anything to me,” he finally murmured, eyes trained on his phone screen. “She said she would tell me if she was having a hard time, but she didn’t say anything to me. Just suffered in silence until it got so bad she just up and left. She just… left. Without a single word to anyone. To me.”

Aang’s eyes softened and he let out a loose exhale. “Zuko, she didn’t mean to hurt you — I know that much. She’s just been under a lot of stress lately, and… I guess it didn’t manifest in the best way.”

“Stress...” he muttered, trying to piece it together. There was something nagging at the back of his skull, something on the tip of his tongue, but he just couldn’t get it. “And you guys are sure she hasn’t put anything anywhere? No texts that you missed, nothing?”

“Believe me,” Sokka said. “I’ve refreshed her pages a thousand times by now. It’s radio silence on her side. God, I wish I was more invasive and put like, a tracking device on her car or something! For all we know, she could be back to Kyoshi.”

Kyoshi. Stress. This whole thing, your disappearing act.

And suddenly, it clicked.

Zuko stood up abruptly, nearly knocking over the stool in the process and warranting puzzled looks from both of his friends as he grabbed his keys off the table and practically ran to the door.

“Zuko, where are you going?” Aang questioned.

He tugged the door open and shot a glance back at them, tension having noticeably dissolved from his shoulders.

“I know where she is.”

-

Zuko tapped idly against the steering wheel, once again glancing down at his phone screen but to no avail. His relationship with you had become infinitely more complicated since the kiss through fault of both of them — he supposed that was what happened when two people who didn’t know how to talk about their emotions caught feelings for each other. Zuko was very skilled at sticking his foot in his mouth whenever he tried to talk about anything like this, and

But you had accepted his offer to talk on the way home, so that meant something.

He had originally suggested just talking on the way home like he had proposed earlier, but you had a different idea. ‘Trust me,’ you had told him. ‘It has a good track record with making people feel better.’

Your proposition was a wildflower field on the outskirts of the city, just out of the way that someone would go en route to the university. Far enough from the city to emanate an aura of peace, but close enough to be a feasible trip.

“I found this place when I was missing home,” you smiled as he parked the car. “I love it here, don’t get me wrong, but sometimes I just feel homesick for Kyoshi. You passed a field like this on the way into town, and when I stumbled here, it just kinda felt like fate. So now whenever I’m stressed, or overwhelmed, or just need a break, I come out here. And I think this is the perfect place to talk about… well, whatever’s going on with us.”

“Sounds good.” He returned the sentiment then cleared his throat. “As long as we don’t go in there. I can admire it from afar, but just looking at that field is making my skin itch.”

You laughed and nodded amiably. “Deal.”

-

One hand was splayed against your chest, the other trailing lazy circles with the pads of your fingers against the metal as you gazed up at the sky. You had the best and only seat of the view, the flora drifting softly in the night breeze as the stars twinkled from above.

You didn’t know what you were thinking, being here. The past couple of weeks had just been… crushing you. It was like your heart was stuck in a vice and no matter what you did, it just got tighter and tighter.

You had been treating everyone you knew horribly, but you couldn’t stop. It felt like a game — how terribly could you act towards them until they snapped too? Until your friends, your siblings, Zuko, recognized that they had made a mistake by trying to help you?

And you didn’t know what it was about today, but… something inside of you just broke after that morning with your roommates. So you did what you were best at, and you ran. Skipped class, skipped work, just drove around aimlessly until even that was starting to feel like too much of a trap.

And then you ended up here.

It would’ve been laughable if you weren’t on the verge of breaking down.

You had been here, just laying on the hood of your car parked a few feet away from the field on an off road path, for the better part of an hour. If you were going to drown underneath the weight of your thoughts, it was better to do it alone.

But as you heard the crunching of gravel underneath car tires, your eyes instinctively shot towards the noise — so much for being alone — and you sat up. Your brows furrowed in recognition, you knew that car, and it felt like your heart was going to beat out of your chest when Zuko stepped out.

“You remembered,” you breathed after a moment of silence. “You’re here.”

“Always.” He said it so obviously, so easily — why wouldn’t he remember? Why wouldn’t he be here?

You scooted over to make space on the hood and patted the space next to you softly, pulling your knees up to your chest in a moment of shame as he walked around to the front and pushed himself up next to you. What were you going to say to him? What could you say?

“I’m sorry,” you said out of the blue, your words pouring out of you like an emotional waterfall. “I’m sorry for just— for just leaving, I know it was stupid and I know they’re all probably worried out of their minds, but I couldn’t do it, Zuko. I-it was like I was trapped, and I know it was irrational, but I had to get out of there—”

“You didn’t have to,” he said quietly, effectively stopping your rant. “If you really had to get out, you could’ve at least said something to one of us. I don’t know what things were like back at Kyoshi, but here— here, you can’t throw yourself back onto the knife every time something goes wrong, because— you just can’t do that anymore.”

“I’m not mad, believe me, I’m relieved that you’re okay. I just..” he sighed and glanced up at the night sky, the light of the moon illuminating his features as he faced you once more. “I know you’ve felt alone before, but you’re not. You have Katara, and Sokka, Suki, Toph— you have me, Y/N! And I’m not going anywhere, trust me, but— but you can’t keep doing this to yourself, because they care about you, and I care about you.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat and chose to concentrate on the hood of the car, tapping your fingers against the metal as a way to use up your nervous energy. “You’re… you’re right,” you said after a long moment of silence, the beginnings of a mirthless smile on your lips.

“After that night at the party, I just— I couldn’t stop thinking about what happened. There was a part of me that just wanted to lock myself in my room and never come out, but I— I told myself I was better than that, and I refused to let myself fall back onto any of it. So I worked. I took extra shifts, I helped out my professors, I did anything and everything I could to try and keep my mind off of Hahn. But I wasn’t helping anything, I was just… I was destroying myself. It was just like you said. I was a candle burning at both ends but still convinced that I was doing the right thing, and eventually.. I just couldn’t take it anymore. So I ran.”

“And— there’s always been this… this voice in my head that pops up after things in my life are going good, and it tells me that something is going to go wrong. A-and it tells me that if I’m the one that ruins it, then I don’t have to ask myself what I did wrong, if I could’ve stopped it from happening— if it’s inevitable, then I should be the one to ruin it. It’s how most of my relationships ended, and— well, the only thing it’s succeeded in is making me miserable.”

You don’t even notice your hands are shaking until you feel Zuko placing his own over yours — a simple gesture asking an unsaid question, one you answer by intertwining his fingers with your own.

“That same voice popped up again once I started getting close to you,” you admitted quietly. “And this whole time, I’ve been so terrified of falling that I never considered you would catch me. But I’m tired, Zuko. I’m tired of constantly looking over the edge.”

As you turned your head to meet his eyes again, your breath caught in your throat at his close proximity. You were sure that no matter how much time you spent with him, your heart would never stop beating out of your chest for Zuko.

“I will always be there to catch you,” he affirmed softly. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

And just like before, he brought his hand to the side of your face and tenderly brushed a loose strand of hair behind your ear. His hand, slightly calloused but emanating comfort all the same, lingered on your cheek for a moment before he posed the question.

“Can I kiss you?”

You nodded, and his lips captured your own immediately. You reciprocated with an almost desperate fervor and— and it just felt so right. You had grown so accustomed to the constant warmth he carried with him that it had become a part of you, he had become a part of you, and now a life without Zuko was just unimaginable.

He was right — he already was there to catch you, each and every time. Giving you endless rides when your car broke down, sitting through the world’s most boring anthro projects, letting you bare your soul to him, telling you it was all going to be okay when nothing felt okay, and managing to find you when you had gone out of your way to not be found. And all of it— it all made you realize.

You didn’t want to keep running. And you didn’t have to. Not anymore.

Zuko pulled away and pressed his forehead to yours, breathing slightly labored as the two of you sat in comfortable silence. That is, until you broke it.

“So,” you started, a nervous chuckle following. “Are we… are we a thing now?”

You could tell that caught him by surprise by the laugh that escaped him, a sound of unfiltered joy. “I’d say that we are.”

You could feel the heat rushing to your cheeks once more as he slid off of the hood of the car and held out his hand, an offering you took happily. “We should get home,” he said, somewhat reluctantly. “It’s past midnight, and—” Zuko glanced at his phone and grimaced. “They’re all still worried out of their minds.”

“Right,” you muttered. “I’m gonna get the lecture of my life from Sokka and Katara.”

“Probably,” he chuckled. “But they’re just doing their job as concerned siblings.” He pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead and glanced back at his own car. “I’ll see you back at the apartment?”

You nodded, an uncontrollable smile pulling at your lips. “Thank you, Zuko. For this, and— for everything.”

He returned the sentiment, golden eyes filled with adoration.

“Always.”

-

if your name is crossed out it means i can’t tag you!

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transferred: @ourbestfriend-mishacollins @lil-lex1 @xxshad0wxb1rdxx @zuko-is-the-sun @akiris @irohs-teapot @thatarthistorynerd @charlenasaxen @minninugget @marvel-ousnesss @count-thotticus @what-ye-egg @furblrwurblr @thesstuff @mariachiii @ietss @dizzy-miss-lizzieeeeee @xbarrjallenx @tommy-braccoli @dreamsluvrr @floofybread @thelovelylolly @lin-biefong-is-my-life @tiffanyy-21 @sistheselenophile @theincredibledeadlyviper @bakugouswh0r3 @loganrwebb @mikaslilworld @matsunshine @iris-suoh @aizameow @h3llbun @kozuelle

atla: @marianne1806

[wthtorke]

Cultural Differences

One shot commission for @scallopedsuitcase ! Thank you! 

You didn’t know what to do anymore.

When you heard that the Yautja-Human peace treaty was finally up and running and that not only that meant everyone was safe and sound but also that the galaxy’s greatest and sexiest species was to roam free within your planet. You were proudly part of a small community that wasn’t opposed to...engaging-, with such creatures.

It didn’t take long for you to find your Yautja of interest. He was tall. Taller than any other partner you ever had before. That alone did things to you. Their ships had taken residency in whatever forests seemed best to them. You’d never thanked the skies more for living right outside a reserve in your life. 

The first thing you checked was his wrist from afar. To make things easier for everyone while they sorted out yautja translators for humans, yautjas interested in human contact wore different colored lights on their wrist gauntlets. Some of the colors were; red for ‘No Contact’, yellow for ‘formal contact only’, blue for ‘Friendly contact’, and purple for ‘Accepting of human advances’.

Now, while the term was awkward at best, but you were the happiest human on earth when your crush showed up on your street with that purplish wrist gauntlet. it’s lights dancing, glowing brighter and then darker again in an endless cycle.

He was everything you’ve ever dreamed of physically and after some time observing and building up your courage-, you found that his personality was just as much endearing as his physique. 

You’d taken to hiking, something you didn’t exactly have the habit of doing, all in hopes of spotting him by his ship, and so you did. So, there began your mission. While you didn’t have a translator on your person, there was one language that was known to all the galaxy.

Flirting.

Flirting was supposed to be exciting, charming, and well, what better way to let someone know you were totally into them, right? Surely, some winks and gestures here and there would pass him the message loud and clear.

2 weeks in of hiking and you could feel your muscles hardening up. The way your body responded to this new routine spoke volumes of your previous sedentary ways, never really having a reason to leave the house if it wasn’t for work or well, buying what you needed. So far, however, your flirting had brought you no results. The times you could make out his expressions when he saw you were...not pleasing. He looked...confused, at best. 

So, you sat at home on a particularly cold night, holding a warm mug of hot chocolate to keep the shivers at bay, wondering what could you possibly be doing wrong. You bit your lip, winked, wore your best clothes, and still, nothing. It was frustrating.

You checked on your translator order situation, refreshing the page now and then as you knew they were updated at night. When the peace treaty was first announced and the ‘requesting’ system was up, you hurried to place your order. The translator wasn’t cheap, and it would only be one of the very prototypes, meaning it wouldn’t be able to translate everything at once so fluidly, but at least you’d be able to communicate faster before most of the people could, and that alone made you very happy, it was exhilarating. 

The translator had been ‘In Confection’ for months now, finally coming around the expected date of postage as your page told you. 

Another hour went by before you refreshed it again, the yellow dot becoming green with the text you had been waiting for underneath it. 

“In Transit.”

Finally.

With newfound excitement and determination, you pulled up the weather report for tomorrow’s morning and afternoon, sighing as you thought of your Yautja crush yet again.

The next morning came as fast as your head hit the pillow as you jumped up and out of the bed, ready to start your day with your morning jog, hoping to see him either on the way up or down the trail. Teeth brushed, hair tied up, and a water bottle filled, you made your way out the door, feeling the chilly morning air fill your lungs, wiping away the last remains of sleep from your body.

While jogging, you fell in thought. 

The translator wouldn’t take more than 3 days to arrive. In little time you’d be able to communicate with him...but what if he didn’t like you? 

Your jogging slowed down to a walk as this hit you hard in the head.

What if he had already rejected you and you didn’t catch it? You thought about it further and so came the odd looks he gave you, the puzzled stares, and more. You made your efforts well known and well shown as well, and he didn’t growl or try to move away, so it couldn’t have been that bad, right?

You looked at your feet as you walked, lost in those thoughts as you hit something hard, making you stumble back a couple of steps. You looked back up in surprise only to find out it wasn’t something but someone.

“Oh, hi! Sorry, I um, I didn’t see you,” You said, doing your best to gesture to him, and then your eyes, trying to tell him what you said.

As always, he stood there for a second, slowly nodding afterward. He tilted his head to the side a bit, getting a little closer to your person as if inspecting your face. His tusks were close to your face, so close you thought he was going to kiss you. Or well, try to, given he didn’t have lips.

“I-,” was all you managed to get out before he stepped back, shaking his head slightly before reaching behind his back, where his pouch usually was. Hands coming forward again, he extended his arm, opening his palm to present you with something.

You gasped at the notion of receiving a gift from him, this could only mean courtship, right?

Looking down at his hand, you were more than confused to see a very human-made looking pill bottle. “What?” You said, picking it up from his hand.

‘Melatonin. Sleep aid.’

“Sleep aid?” You questioned, looking back up at him, “Are you saying I look tired?!” You said, shaking the pill bottle towards him, the yautja raising his hands a bit, the universal sign for ‘hey calm down’.

But what could this possibly mean?

“I tried so hard! And you say I took tired? I’ve been coming here every day to see you! You-!” You sighed, shoulders slacking a bit after your outburst. “Okay, okay. You know what? Fuck-, I get it, I’ll let you be,” You said, turning right back around, deciding to end your exercise right there when the biggest hand you ever felt closed around your arm, making you look back again.

You had heard the Yautja language before, but hearing it live was just as foreign. He was speaking fast, the clicks and guttural growls making absolutely no sense to you.

He still, somehow, managed to look confused while speaking such a harsh tongue.

“I don’t understand!” You exasperated, yanking your arm free and sighing again. You put your hand up, “Wait.” you said. 

He looked at your hand, which accompanied with the word made something light up in his face as he nodded this time. “Good, I’ll um, see you later,” You said, waving and making the rest of your way back to your house.

You couldn’t stop thinking about it. Sitting on your couch while staring at the pill bottle on the table. It was what it was, you supposed. It was truly melatonin. 

But what did he mean with it? Did he want you to sleep well? Why did he think you weren’t getting enough sleep?

“Where did he even get this?!”

The pill bottle was sealed still, just like the ones you’d buy at the drug store. Could you imagine? A Yautja walking in a drug store and purchasing melatonin? If you told that to someone, they’d think you were crazy, even with the whole peace treaty going on.

Another day went by and you didn’t go jogging anymore, afraid your ‘relationship’ could turn sour if you saw him again without your translator. Still, the pill bottle haunted you, sitting in the exact place on your table.

On the second morning after your disastrous encounter, the doorbell rang. And you knew exactly what it was for. Sprinting for the door, the mailman was different, clearly a private company worker, holding your package with both his hands, looking around as he waited for you to come up.

Package picked up, opened, and fiddled with. After 15 minutes, you sat in your living room muttering words into your translator, watching as it came to life, making some odd sounds in what you knew was the yautja language.

Now you could go talk to him, for real.

Picking up the pill bottle from the table, you sprinted up the trail again, regretting not bringing your water bottle as you reached the place where you last saw him, panting and a little red in the face.

You looked back up when you heard soft purring, a sound you hadn’t heard before but wished dearly to.

‘It means affection’ you recalled reading once from the article the first human to mate a yautja wrote, ‘Fondness’.

You straightened yourself, clearing your throat before looking up at him, “Um, hi, I- ah fuck,” you fiddled some more, producing your translator from your pocket, getting a curious look from the yautja before you.

“I hope this works” you muttered before lifting the device closer to your mouth and taking a deep breath. “Hi, I hope this translates what I’m saying decently, now, I’d please like to know what did you mean with this?” You said into it, waiting a second before it started its clicking noises.

The Yautja’s expression changed instantly, his eyes widening as he leaned forward to the sound of his language. He squinted as he kept listening, making you blush in embarrassment. God, was the translator that bad?

Upon hearing the last of the clicking, you lifted the pill bottle to him for emphasis, waiting for him to react.

He stood up straight again, eyeing the bottle he gave you a few days prior, still unopened. He extended his hand, shaking his head when you offered him the bottle, pointing instead to the translator in your other hand. “Oh, of course!” You handed it to him, watching as he had a look at the digital screen, apparently switching its mode from ‘Human to Yautja’ to ‘Yautja to Human’ seeing as the translator worked with just about every human language around the world.

Satisfied with the settings, he started speaking into it himself, gesturing to the pill bottle while he did so and then, to your surprise, to your face. This made you gasp a bit, your mind jumping to the worst conclusions possible. Did he think you were ugly? Well, you’d have to wait and see.

As he finished speaking, you both gave the translator a couple of seconds when a male voice spoke up, making you jump a bit, hands shaking in anticipation. “Hello. I thought you were sick. Whenever we had an encounter, you would make these strange expressions. I searched for them, the results were that what could be possibly making you have these...tics, was lack of sleep. The excessive blinking, biting your lips, involuntary facial pulling, all are the result of sleepless nights, excessive exhaustion, and the medicine for that is...that, for humans anyway.”

“WHAT?!” You yelled, snatching the translator back from his hand as he stared at you with yet another confused expression. “I was flirting with you! Flirting! I’m not sick!” You said, holding out the translator as it did its thing.

Confusion melting away into realization, he spoke again, not bothering to hold the translator but simply stepping closer to you.

“You were trying to court me?”

“Yes! I was winking at you! It’s a human thing!” You said, then realizing your mistake, “Oh...human thing...Ah fuck” You covered your face in embarrassment, “God, that’s why you always looked at me like that, I-”

“Would you still like to...court me?”

“Yes!” You said, head jerking up again so fast the yautja before you flinched a bit. “I-, yes.” You cleared your throat, a hard blush creeping its way across your face again.

“Good, it was my plan to court you too...after you had healed of your...sickness.” He said, chuckling, “Which apparently was no sickness at all.” He cleared as you squinted at him, “Well, I’m Yeyinde.” He said, “I’m glad we can finally communicate, always wanted to ask you a few things.”

You smiled, feeling that blush coming back again, “How about we go on a walk? Then we can talk about anything you want” You said, holding out your free hand for him to take.

“Of course,” He rumbled, massive hand closing gently around yours as you started walking up the rest of the trail.

[homerforsure]

Whumptober No. 5

betrayal / misunderstanding / broken nose

(Hockey AU)

***

He’d always thought the night Jay took the picture would be the worst of it.

Buck’s hands were clutching the rails of Jay’s iron headboard, where Jay had wanted them, where Jay had placed them after stripping Buck of his clothes, saying “Don’t let go.” His slow, sexy, predatory smile was the last thing Buck saw before the silky black blindfold was tied in place. Jay was gone after that, climbing off the bed, telling Buck how good he looked and what he thought he might do and Buck had arched into the words until he was begging to be touched.

“Be patient,” Jay had purred, appeasing Buck with a single finger drawn shiveringly down his thigh. Buck could feel that he’d climbed back onto the bed, but Jay was too far away and he wasn’t teasing; he just wasn’t there. Stretching out longer on the mattress, trying to find him, he’d said, “What’s going on up there?”

Then the flash went off, the bright light cutting through the thin fabric of the blindfold. Jay swore, “Shit. Fuck,” and when Buck let go of the bed with one hand (one hand because maybe he misunderstood, maybe it was fine, maybe he’d laugh and put his hand back and they’d-)to push the tie away, he’d seen Jay, crouched above him with his phone in his hand.

If he’d asked, Buck might even have agreed. He liked posing. He liked having his body appreciated. But Jay’s expression was the alarm of being caught red-handed and Buck knew, knew with a sinking feeling of dread and betrayal, that Jay wasn’t just taking a memento to savor later. He was taking a picture of Rangers center Evan Buckley, naked, smirking, and vulnerable, to use exactly the way those kinds of pictures get used.

Buck forced Jay to delete the photo, made him prove that he’d done it, and then had somehow managed to get himself dressed and down to the street to get a ride without throwing up. His face burned the whole drive home and for half of the night.

And that was the worst of it until five years later. In a new city. When Buck was finally playing the way he’d always known he could. When he was finally earning the respect of his team and the hockey world at large. When he started thinking he might stay. That was when the anonymously authored post was retweeted and reblogged and shared and gleefully discussed on all corners of the hockey internet.

MY WILD NIGHT WITH AN NHL ALL STAR

The Good, the Bad, and the Kinky

His agent’s was the first text he saw when he got done with practice: “Do NOT respond yet. Call me first.”

It had taken another couple messages before Buck realized what he wasn’t supposed to respond to and in the meantime, the texts kept rolling in. Half of them from numbers he didn’t even have saved in his contacts.

“Dude, is that shit true?”

“Are you okay?”

“Do you know who it is?”

“You dog 😜”

“You never told me you were into that 👀”

“Ignore it, Buck.”

“We’re all with you.”

“Fuck that guy.”

“Hey if you need something to take your mind off of it💋💋💋”

“Evan, Mike from the Tribune. If you want to set the record straight, please give me a call.”

From the looks on the faces of his teammates as they tried to pretend they weren’t stealing glances at him, they were getting messages of their own. Hen was the first one to start to approach him with a look of concern, but Buck avoided her, grabbing his bag and sneaking out the door without bothering to hit the stationary bike like usual.

“What the hell did you do to piss this guy off?” Geoff said as soon as he answered Buck’s call. “More importantly, what else does he have on you?”

“Nothing!” Buck answered, nearly merging directly into another car as his hands shook on the steering wheel. “What do I do? How do I fix this?”

“I don’t know, Buckley. None of my other clients get up to shit like this. You need to get yourself a publicist. I’m going to get in touch with Grant and make sure they’re not already shopping you.”

His agent hung up and Buck’s phone continued to buzz and chime all the way back to his apartment.

There were cameras outside which there almost never were. Mostly only hockey fans cared about pictures of hockey players and the press was limited to the arena and their official events. Maybe one or two regular guys who Buck knew by name. It was just his luck that he lived in LA where there were almost more cameras than there were disasters to photograph.

“Buck! Do you know who the author is?”

“Have your teammates seen the post?”

“Are you worried about other former partners coming out with similar stories?”

Buck pushed past them, but the questions followed him inside. His phone didn’t stop. His mentions were a nightmare on every platform. He shut Twitter as soon as he opened it and saw his name in the trending topics. The statements put out by the Kings and Buck’s agent condemning the piece and the interest in it were drowned out by outlet after outlet picking up the post and sharing it out wider and wider.

Can you guess this NHL player by his sexcapades? (Hint: It’s exactly who you think)

Hockey players used to be the humble, hard working gentleman of sports. What happened?

Should the Kings trade Evan Buckley? Can they?

Nash should make Buckley sit for embarrassing the team like this.

Aw, man, don’t do that. Sitting’s a little tough for Buckley right now

🤣

And I thought it couldn’t get worse than the time he fucked that mascot in Carolina

{This post may contain explicit content}

😵‍💫

🤮

Excuse you, Gritty has standards

[98 more posts]

Whether from a latent masochistic streak or just because he didn’t want to look away and find that the story had gotten bigger while he was gone, Buck couldn’t stop refreshing the pages. He read Jay’s words over and over again as his stomach roiled. If it had all been lies, Buck wouldn’t have spent the morning pressed into the corner of his couch, hoodie pulled up over his head like armor. If it had all been lies, he could have made a fiery statement, condemning the mystery author and condemning everyone who thought they had a right to consume and critique another person’s sex life.

There were some lies, of course, but it was true enough that Buck’s heart clenched with it. True enough that he could remember how he felt when it was happening, during the three times they’d been together before the photo. Soft and desired and joyful. There was a part of him that was still exposed to Jay, that always would be, this man with the sharp wit and the sharp smile who got Buck bare, begging and biddable all to make him a joke. As he read the smug asides in the unforgiving narrative, he could hear Jay’s voice in his ear.

The sixth time he read it, there was an addition.

Edit: Ha ha wow this really blew up. Doing an AMA at 6 eastern if you’re looking for more dirty details.

And for the first time, Buck felt the burn of tears in his eyes. Furious. Powerless.

The buzz of his phone started making his skin crawl so he shoved it between the couch cushions and tried not to think about it. He sat with his knees pulled up to his chest and his arms wrapped tightly around, rocking just a little as he felt panic creeping in.

What else could Jay possibly have to say? Would he make up more and more audacious lies as long as he had an audience? Would an NHL team want to touch Buck when he was done?

Were there more pictures?

It was the fourth night, the night that Buck caught Jay. Not the first night with the blindfold. What if? Buck shuddered, sinking lower, deeper into the couch, folding himself tighter and smaller, trying to crush the mounting, hopeless fear. He was there for a long time.

When the gentle knock hit his door, Buck jumped and then crouched tighter into his ball. He didn’t answer. There was no one he could face right now.

The knock came again.

Then the door opened.

Buck was up like a shot, nearly falling over the coffee table as he whirled around toward the intruder. Eddie stood in the doorway, holding up one empty hand and pulling his key out of the door with the other.

“Just me.”

“What are you doing here?” Buck asked, shoving his hands into the pocket of his hoodie to hide the fact that he’d been digging his nails into his palms for the last hour.

“Well, you took off. And you weren’t answering your phone.”

Hot shame flushed across Buck’s skin. Eddie knew. Eddie had seen the article and the articles about the article and the tweets about the articles and been shouted at by the cameras outside and Buck wanted to sink into the floor.

“Notice you didn’t take the hint.”

The attitude in Buck’s response didn’t faze Eddie at all, “Do I ever?”

And that almost made Buck feel like smiling, because no, no he didn’t. He said, “No. But there’s always a first time.”

Eddie came a little further into the apartment and Buck felt crowded. Eddie always seemed to take up so much space around him. Maybe it was just that Buck felt his presence most strongly than anyone else’s. Especially when he was like this: arms crossed, focused, not letting Buck wiggle out of a conversation that he didn’t want to have.

This time was no exception. When Buck turned and went back to the couch, compulsively refreshing the comments on Jay’s post again as he went, Eddie followed right after him.

“I came by to make sure you were okay,” he said and Buck flinched again, hating that Eddie knew. Hating that the team knew.

“I’m fine,” he answered, keeping his eyes down and away from Eddie. “Coach is going to rip me a new one tomorrow, but my agent hasn’t called me to tell me I’m being traded so yet so I guess that’s-”

“Who the fuck said you were being traded?” His voice was loud enough that Buck looked up, surprised to see the intensity of anger in Eddie’s face.

“THN. NHL Network did a round table on it too, but they didn’t think anyone would take me. Oh, then Kirk Davis did a radio interview.”

Everyone had picked up those soundbites. Even through the heavily bleeped broadcast, the future hall-of-famer’s opinion on Buck had been crystal clear. At least that wasn’t new information for Buck. Davis had all but refused to shake Buck’s hand when he first joined the Predators and was a big part of why his tenure there had only lasted until the trade deadline.

“Kirk Davis is a fucking asshole. There’s a reason they never made him captain.”

“He’s not the only one who said it.”

“Then he’s not the only fucking asshole out there.” When he didn’t respond, Eddie came around the couch to stand face to face with him, noticing the open comments page as he did. “Christ, have you been reading that shit all day?”

Somehow it made Buck laugh. “It’s the same shit I’ve been reading for 8 years. Since I got drafted. Buckley’s a distraction to his team. Buckley’s an embarrassment to the game of hockey. Buckley cares more about getting laid and partying than he does about winning. It’s guys like Buckley that hurt the NHL.”

His voice pitched up as he recited the familiar accusations, staring somewhere over Eddie’s shoulder because Eddie already knew all this about him. Eddie was the opposite of Buck in every way. He would never make himself the center of attention. He’d never do anything to make his teammates ashamed to play with him. He’d never be so stupid as to go home with a guy like Jay.

“Buckley’s finally getting what he deserves.” Buck whispered.

“Look at me,” Eddie said. When Buck couldn’t, Eddie reached out, setting a light hand on his shoulder that got tighter when Buck tried to shrug out of the hold. “Hey. Look at me.”

He moved his head into the space where Buck was staring into the middle distance and waited. Until Buck couldn’t help but flick his gaze to meet Eddie’s. Once he did, he found a furious compassion that startled him.

“You don’t deserve this, Buck. You did nothing to deserve this. It is not your fault. Nobody in our room thinks it is. Bobby doesn’t think it is.”

Buck shuddered under the weight of the words. He wanted to pull himself free and he wanted to step in closer, “My agent told me I should own it. Post a couple thirst traps and a middle finger on instagram and just wave it off like another classic Evan Buckley weekend.”

There was a time when he would have. Times when he had. But this wasn’t a ridiculous paparazzi photo outside a bar, it was… It was private. It hurt.

As if reading his mind, Eddie said, “That’s not what this is. Fire him if he wants to make you pretend this is okay.”

“I just keep thinking if I was anyone else. If I was someone good, they’d all go after him and not me. I didn’t even do anything to him, Eddie. I didn’t-”

Before he could finish his sentence, Eddie tugged him forward and his arms were tight around his back. Buck should have tried to fight it, but he couldn’t help but fall against his chest and cling on. “You are someone good,” Eddie said, making Buck’s breath hitch. “And if you weren’t, it wouldn’t matter. It’s wrong. They’re wrong.”

“I shouldn’t have trusted him,” Buck confessed into the soft fabric of Eddie’s shirt. “I was so stupid back then. I just wanted- I wanted him to like me. And I’m still- It still hurts that he didn’t. How fucked up is that? He did this. And I still just wish he liked me.”

One of Eddie’s hands moved up to cradle the back of Buck’s head. They were swaying, just a little, Eddie rocking them gently. “I know,” he said. “I’m so sorry.”

He managed to keep from crying, but Buck couldn’t stop his breath from coming out in soft, stuttering gasps. Couldn’t keep his fingers from digging into Eddie’s back. If he thought about it, he could imagine this post too (Evan Buckley cried like a baby on my shoulder AMA), but Eddie would never do that. The warm heat of him against Buck’s chest was like a blanket hiding him from the world. It was the most vulnerable he’d been all day and the most sheltered.

Eddie didn’t let go until Buck pulled back and even then he didn’t go far, “Have you eaten since practice?”

“I didn’t think I’d be able to without throwing up,” Buck said honestly.

“Do you want to order something from-”

The timer on Buck’s laptop shrieked and they both jumped. Eddie recovered quickly, but Buck’s heart leapt into his throat. He’d almost forgotten. How could he have forgotten? Pulling away from Eddie, he turned off the timer and refreshed the post, looking for the link he knew would be there.

“Come on, Buck, really?”

Eddie reached out to slam the laptop closed, but Buck shoved his hand in the way. “I have to, Eddie. He’s doing an AMA. I have to-”

“I’m not going to let you torture yourself reading what a bunch of sick assholes have to say, Buck. No way.”

“I have to.”

“No, you-”

“Yes, I do!” He shouted it, standing up to look Eddie in the eye. “I have to read it. I have to see it now because if- if- if I wait and it gets reposted- I have to know if he has- I have to-”

“Buck,” Eddie said, putting his hands on Buck’s arms, trying to rub calmness back into him even as Buck’s heart-rate accelerated. “What does he have? What could be worse than what he already-”

“Pictures,” Buck yelled. “I have to know if he has pictures.”

A dark, dark look came over Eddie’s face and he stopped rubbing Buck’s arms to squeeze instead. “You think he has pictures?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” Buck whimpered. He saw himself as if from above, stretched out long and lewd against Jay’s sheets. He imagined ten thousand other people seeing it. “He took- I caught him taking one. Once. But I don't know if it was the only one. I don’t- I can’t let them get out. If he has them, I have to know. I have to report the post. I have to-”

“No,” Eddie said.

“Yes, Eddie. I have-”

“I hear you. Okay? I hear you, but I’m not letting you do that. I’m not letting you put any more of that garbage in your head.”

“Eddie.”

“I’ll do it. I’ll report every goddamn post.” Lifting one hand, Eddie stroked a thumb softly along Buck’s hairline. “Let me do it. Let me protect you.”

Buck swallowed hard, fear and relief and longing fighting for control of the tears that were building up again. He didn’t want Eddie to see any of that. He didn’t want Jay’s words in Eddie’s head. But Buck really really didn’t want them in his own. He wanted someone to protect him. “Thank you,” he said, falling forward again to rest his head on Eddie’s shoulder.

“I’ve got you,” Eddie replied, rubbing his hands firmly up Buck’s back.

Eddie wouldn’t let Buck sit on the couch while he monitored the thread. He fished Buck’s phone out of the couch and made him answer the important messages. From Maddie. From Bobby. From Hen and Chimney. Then he’d told him to order food from the Lebanese place they always ordered from when Eddie came over, asking for extra of the pickled turnips. All the while, Eddie’s fingers slammed onto the keyboard, that sound the only reaction he gave to any of the posts.

It should have been unbearable, letting Eddie comb through the messages. Even without seeing them, Buck knew what they were like. He blocked people every week for the same kind of thing. But Eddie had a defense against them that Buck never had: he didn’t believe they were true. Not even a little bit. He didn’t believe there was a chance that Buck was getting what he deserved for being a show off, for never being a points leader, for being open and soft hearted, for being himself. Eddie believed Buck deserved to be protected and he was ruthless about it.

“No pictures,” he said, a while later, when Jay had finally stopped replying to every comment on the page. “And the rest of it is… well. It’s nothing new.”

“Really?”

“Really. I think it’s done.”

Eddie closed the laptop as if by making that gesture of finality, he could make the words true. Buck, allowed back on his own couch, let himself believe it too. Let himself lean into the safety of Eddie’s arm over his shoulders, breathing in a deep sigh of relief as they caught the Canucks game.

The next morning, Jay’s story was hardly anywhere to be seen. It was replaced. By an essay in The Players’ Tribune. It excoriated Jay. It called out Kirk Davis by name and hundreds of online posters by their bad intentions. It praised Buck’s grace, tenacity, and backhand shot and it demanded respect and compassion and privacy from anyone who called themselves a hockey fan. And it wasn’t anonymous.

[cheekygreenty]

Little Witch - Part 18

The Darkling x Reader

The Winter Fete was fast approaching. The Little Palace was being cleaned up and stitched up in preparation and the seamstress unit was overwhelmed with orders of silk keftas and lavish gowns.

Aleksander was away at front lines on behalf of the Lantosv King again and you were buried up to your neck in work that would otherwise go to him. You pondered for much too long why he always left and you stayed. He constantly left for the camps and front-lines, tending to Grisha in the outposts and dealing with war duties while you were stuck in the confines of this very Palace, signing your name away and reading boring documents. From what you gathered though it had been the same before you arrived, your intelligence prevailing even now.

'You called for me Deputy?' An older Squaller loomed at your door, her greying hairs curling at the sides of her face.

'I did indeed, please sit.' You pointed towards the small sofa in the corner of your room and got up from your desk, heading for it too.

'I think it's about time I thanked you in person for everything you've done for me, Irina.' You picked up the sealed envelope sitting on the table and held it out to her.

'Is that what I think it is?' The older woman visibly teared up, a feathering touch on the envelope.

'I owe it to you and your mother, Irina. Take it.'

'This is so much more than we have given you.'

'Don't be fooled. , I wouldn't be here if it weren't for you.'

'Does he know?'

'Of course he doesn't. I keep my own affairs in order without him prying in.'

'Are you sure?' It struck you with a strangeness that you were much older than the Grisha in front of you and had nothing to show for it. You had seen her as a newborn baby cradled in her mother's arms all those years ago and yet you stood before her, the epitome of youth.

'Go. Live your life. It's all in there.' You gestured to the envelope. Irina looked at you just as her mother once did, a look of gratitude and hope. 'He may not be alive anymore but your girl is. So go, I beg of you.'

She stood up and hugged you tightly, quietly crying out of pure joy. You sushed her like you did when she was just a child.

'Go before I decide to keep you around.' You tried to lighten the mood, to say goodbye without having to actually say it. You knew deep down you would never see her again, and given the fact that her daughter was an otkazat'sya, you had no use for her either. Her life was far away from the Os Alta, you made sure of it and now her mother would get to join her and they could live out the rest of their days as a family.

'Y/N you will always be family. My mother made sure of it. I will always be here to serve you.'

'Go'

And she did, with the envelope clutched tightly in her hand, the daughter of your long-passed best friend walked out the door, ending your relationship with the Volkov Grisha.

You met Inessa Volkov during your very first year in the First-Army. She was a Squaller too, stationed at Kribirsk to aid skiff journeys. She was a firecracker, a feisty Zemeni woman who could both bark and bite and never relied solely on her small science.

It was most strange to see soldiers from opposite armies be friends, but Inessa would always swear she knew you were special. She followed you to the Little Palace, helped you evolve into the infamous witch the Fjerdan's began to fear, but her life hit a standstill when she got pregnant. Twins, the girl a Grisha, the boy an otkazat'sya.

Your position allowed for you to help the boy along in life, to prevent him from being dumped in an orphanage by the other Grisha. You gave him a life of happiness and content away from the buzz of capital and for that Inessa was indebted to you, even after your supposed death.

Irina only knew you as a character in her mother's bedtimes stories until you reached out. From then on, Irina served as one of your spies in the Palace while you stayed in the shadows watching Aleksander's moves from a long distance.

Irina was the last link you had to your old life apart from Aleksander and Baghra, of course. You were lucky she was powerful and could live a long life like her mother, but it still hurt to know she would die eventually and you would still be you. You were used to watching those around you die, Aleksander had prepared you for it unintentionally through his various stories and explained life adventures but the sting was still there.

You and Aleksander were on the same page when it came to Grisha abandoning the war effort, but you couldn't help yourself to not let Irina go. She had a daughter and grandkids that she deserved to spend time with in her old age.

No doubt Aleksander would throw up a fuss about a missing Grisha, but you had planned for it already. In the envelope was Irina's death certificate, the address of her daughter's abode, and all the information on her twin brother's family. You wouldn't tell him the truth ever, you would take it to the grave, if you even have to pleasantry to meet.

If he were to find out, with it would come the bubbling question of 'How many spies were there?' and there were too many to count. You had a looming presence and influence in the Palace long before you physically came back and no doubt he would be pissed that you got away with it.

'Deputy, are you to dine in the hall today or in your chambers?' The maid was looking at you and asking the same question she asked every night.

'I think I'll dine with the Grisha, thank you.'

Lately, you ate your dinners cold and in your office, eating only when you remembered the silver tray sitting idly on the table. When Aleksander comes back he's getting an earful and a stack of papers to read. That'll show him.

The hall was filled with pleasant chatter as you approached your seat. It no longer went quiet as you entered, instead a smile or two were sent your way when you noticed. Alina was sitting at her chair sulking over her plate as she usually did and Zoya was too busy eating to notice anything going on around her.

Your food was warm this time as you dug in, drinking the hefty meal down with kvas. You weren't privy to the conversation taking place around you as your thoughts were suddenly overtaken by him. You were never needy, but as of late you wanted to be near Aleksander at all times which was difficult since he wasn't here. The quick kiss he bestowed upon you before he entered his carriage did little to appease you. He never told you when he would be back, but you hoped he wouldn't miss the fete.

Alina was getting stronger, a messy report said that apparently something snapped in her and she grew in power almost overnight. Sometimes when you walked the Palace halls at night, you would catch glimpse of light coming out from under her door. She was growing confident and it suited her. You knew it wasn't any thanks to Baghra.

'Y/N'

'Hmm?' You looked up from your food to see who called you by your name and not your title and relaxed when your eyes caught Zoya's bored ones.

'Botkin asked me to ask you why you've been skipping your combat?' She looked around impassively as if this was the least of her problems but you knew she had nothing better to do given Aleksander's warning to her.

'Oh ummm, I've been busy.' You set your cutlery down and downed the rest of the kvas.

'A Grisha is never too busy to train, lazy perhaps.' You squinted up at the brunette with a false offense.

'Do you have something else to say to me Zoya?'

'I don't know what you mean.'

'Alright then if you say so.' You got up from your chair, coaxing her up from her own. 'Perhaps, your Deputy wants to train now. Should you care to join her?' You knew Zoya was an excellent Squaller, and an even better fighter but was she better than you?

You didn't miss the look of surprise on her face or the silent acceptance of the challenge as you both walked out of the hall, aiming for the training grounds.

'Don't worry about knocking me cold, the General doesn't speak for me.'

The spaces were empty, all Grisha being at dinner and Botkin seemingly busy too.

'I should hope so.'

If you looked at it from a subjective perspective, Inessa and Zoya were very alike. They both had that ruthless and vindictive aspect to their behavior paired with that sharp tongue and intelligent nature. They would've hated each other.

'Come on Nazyalensky, let's see what your made of.' You got into position, holding up your fists in front of you, ready to strike a blow if need be. You let her hit first, effortlessly dodging and ducking her punches and hooks. She was as fast as a bird in flight, swift and elegant. It impressed you, but unfortunately for her, it wasn't enough. You had her restrained in a matter of seconds, her arms behind her back and chest heaving against the wet ground.

'A worthy opponent. You're pretty good I must confess.' You let her go and stood up, adjusting your kefta around your waist.

'Again' You rolled your eyes at her inability to lose. Just like Inessa.

'Zoya, quit while your ahead. Besides I'm tired.'

'You do nothing all day, how can you be tired'

'Do you speak to the General the same way?'

'Only when he's not listening.' she joked and you actually laughed. It was refreshing to hear someone speak of him without that devout loyalty.

You walked back to the Palace, laughing and joking with the Squaller until you went your separate ways.

You didn't know what happened, but from that day onwards the rude Zoya Nazyalensky became a friend.

---------

Part 19

Contrary to popular belief, I would die for Zoya 😍🥰🥰

Taglist (tell me if you want to be added to the Little Witch taglist!!)

@theonelittleone @searching-for-gallifrey @0-artemis @lostysworld @xceafh @fire-in-her-veinz @patdsinner33 @cleverzonkwombatsludge @wizardwheezes @aleksanderwh0r3 @tomhollandisabae @hotleaf-juice @justmesadgirl @exo-1204 @houseofdupree @oberonpascal @eireduchess @lunas1x1 @adoringb

[clonecest-bin-account]

300 followers bingo - Bad Batch | Band AU

(A story about how the Bad Batch gained a new member)

It’s always been their dream, becoming famous, even if a certain asshole - coff coff, Crosshair, coff coff - likes to act like such childish thoughts are too low for him, and now… well, they haven’t exactly reached it yet, but they’re getting close, Hunter can feel it.

All four of them have always loved music, and they love playing in their band, with Crosshair on guitar, Tech on the keyboard, Wrecker on drums, and Hunter that guides them with his singing. They have been together since they were kids, playing with fake instruments, but as soon as they got old enough, they bought the real deal.

Sure, their music is a bit… particular, to say the least, since none of them has actually studied music - they’ve all learned to play on their own, without the need of a teacher - so it’s not exactly popular, but it’s fine like this: they wouldn’t stand out if they played the same exact shit everyone else plays, right?

 Things are moving up, although slowly, but progress is still progress.

Who would’ve thought that they would be able to find a few gigs around town? Apparently many locals are trying to get some experimental musicians in order to gain attention from the public, whom we know loves curiosities.

It’s their perfect occasion to show others what they’re capable of, getting the local crowd familiar with them and their style of music and publicizing their spotify account as well as their youtube channel, even though they mostly just put their covers there.

 … There’s still something missing to their music, though, something that they could easily fix if they find the right guy: one of the few critiques that they accept about what they produce, is that the baseline is quite weak, because it’s true.

Usually Tech takes care of it, along with Wrecker, but it’s obvious that a proper bassist would make things go way more smoothly.

 There’s only one problem: finding the bassist.

Hunter doesn’t think they’re particularly unlikable, just that they have a quite peculiar dynamic, and yet every time it seems like they’ve found the right one, they always leave in a matter of a couple of days. Oh well, he doesn’t blame them: it’s definitely harder to become famous when you insist on making experimental stuff, rather than following the trends, though where’s the fun in that, he has no idea.

 “We don’t need a bassist,” Crosshair said once.

“Just ‘cause you’re the reason most of them quit, doesn’t mean you have to be an ass about it!” Wrecker replies, but thankfully Tech’s interjection breaks up any potential argument between the two. God knows they have enough of them already.

“It has been proved that adding a base does make our music sound better,” he says, scratching his chin then. “We just need to find someone that gets along with us.”

“Maybe if we ditched Crosshair…”

“Hey!”

“Guys, c’mon,” Hunter intervenes, “there’s no need to fight.”

“Right… Sorry Hunter,” Wrecker mutters, while Crosshair says nothing, though he does lower his gaze.

At that point Hunter sighs, but he goes quickly back to a hopeful demeanor - after all, they all look up to him for guidance, he can’t falter.

“C’mon, let’s not lose hope. We’ll find someone…”

  Indeed, they do find someone.

 It happens almost causally: Crosshair’s browsing the internet, when he stumbles about one of those clickbait-y articles about a talented bassist who’s keeping playing even after losing his arm.

Despite the fact that he’s not expecting to find anything mind-blowing, Crosshair still decides to check the article out of curiosity.

What he finds is the same ol’ tear jerking story that makes him roll his eyes, not because of the story per se, but for how it’s framed. It makes him wonder if the bassist in question, Echo is his name - quite peculiar, it makes him wonder if it’s a stage name like his own is - has read the article beforehand and has approved of what has been written on it. With the way he appears in pictures, he seems humble and nice, so Crosshair doubts it.

Something catches Crosshair’s attention thought: apparently, despite his story, Echo plays solo, but not for personal choice. Just like them, he’s having a hard time finding someone willing to play with him.

At the end of the article, he finds a series of videos in which, he supposes, Echo plays. It’s like they’re taunting him, trying to get him to watch them.

Eh, what the hell, how much could it hurt to give them a peek?

 Well, color Crosshair impressed. He’s not a base expert, of course, but he has never heard someone play like this Echo does; he’s truly a natural. He’s so fast that it seems that he’s barely moving his fingers, to the point that it’s hard for Crosshair to follow each and every movement.

Holy shit, could he be…

“Hunter, come here! You gotta see this guy!”

 Echo manages to charm everyone.

“It’s him!” Wrecker exclaims. “He’s the one!”

“Yes, his addition would be very beneficial to us,” Tech agrees, eyes still peeled to the screen, watching rapt as Echo plays.

Crosshair turns to Hunter. “So? What do you think?”

“He’s good,” Hunter admits, “but I wonder if he’d be willing to give us a chance…”

“He seems nice enough,” Tech comments, but he too seems to share Hunter’s worry.

“In that case, let’s just ask him,” Wrecker suggests. “Didn’t we do the same with the others too?”

“That’s true, it’s worth a shot…”

“C’mon,” Crosshair begins, “we’re all on the same page for once, let’s just do it.”

“Alright,” Hunter concedes, allowing himself to feel hopeful, though then he points at Tech. “But you’re the one writing the e-mail this time.”

Tech chuckles. “Leave it to me.”

  Dear Bad Batch,

I have been a fan of yours for quite some time. I find your take on music refreshing and courageous, which unfortunately isn’t something that I can say for many other artists of this time.

You can imagine how honored I’ve felt reading your e-mail! I’ve never seen myself as someone who can be all that inspiring, so I was surprised to read how much of an impression I’ve made on you.

That said, I would love to meet up and discuss about music and a potential collaboration. Actually, I’m looking forward to it.

Let me know whenever you’re free, and we can arrange something.

Best regards.

Echo.

  Echo’s response has been very quick, which has taken everyone by surprise.

As they read and reread the e-mail, almost as if they expect the text to change if they stare at it hard enough, they can’t help but to smile at each other.

In the end, Hunter has to admit it:

“Yes, guys. I think we’ve truly found the one.”

[jaeminscoffee]

Cordolium

Cordolium- Heartfelt sorrow, heartache (n.)

Pairing- Lee Jeno x reader

Genre- Fluff for starters, angst for main course.

Word count- 1.78k

Warnings- Y/n’s led on by Jeno. Or she just misinterpreted his actions, also horribly written ✌

Summary- Who’d known one picture was all it would take to break your heart.

Having gotten into your dream university called for leaving your comfort house and moving into a completely foreign environment, where everyone would be strangers unlike your town where everyone knew each other. 

You were already cranky about the fact that you had to shift, added to that came the news that you’d have a roommate since the last room available was allotted to the student who enrolled in just minutes before you. 

It was a bittersweet feeling. Bitter because you have to live with a total stranger having to share common spaces, personality could be who knows how. Sweet because you’d have a familiar face to look around in the University for. 

“Y/n did you see my blue hoodie?” your roommate screamed from his room, to you who was seated on the couch by the living room. “Hmm?” you hum back, knowing full well the hoodie he’s implying to is the one you’d adorned right now. 

“Come on doll, is there any hoodie of mine that you haven’t worn yet?”

Jeno is the perfect roommate. You’d been shocked the first day you punched in the password to your apartment, opening the door only to be greeted with a guy who had nothing but a towel around his torso. Half shocked at the fact that your roommate for the rest of your semester would be a guy. Half shocked that an extremely good looking guy was your roommate. 

Jeno made the unknown neighborhood seem as though you’d been there all your life. He shooed away all your homesickness, never giving you time to even miss your street by bringing up new things to keep the pair of you occupied. 

“Uh? The one that you bought yesterday? I haven’t worn that yet.” you flash him a smile as Jeno passed you a look of boredom. “It was a rhetorical question, Y/n” he shook his head, making his way towards you with nothing but his sweats on. 

Not the first time you’ve seen him half naked, you’d seen him like that almost every other day, Jeno had clearly grown ridiculously close to you. But the sight of his toned abs and chiseled chest never fails to fluster you. “look at the picture you have of me half naked, you’re basically burning holes into my abs, babe” he retorted after plopping down on the seat beside yours and you immediately shift position to lay down on the couch with your head on his lap. 

“Bold of you to assume i still have that image, Jen” you say, handing him the remote to select what you two would be watching that evening as you tug on his free hand, bringing it up to your hair and placing it there, shaking your head slightly as a signal for him to run his fingers through your hair. 

This is how it’d been since you two grew close. You had a very, very touchy friendship. You had no objections to that, absolutely loving the cuddles and names he’d given you.

All fears of being alone had gone with the wind after the news of you being THE Lee Jeno’s roommate spread throughout the campus. The undivided attention you’d receive didn’t faze you though, knowing full well it was all just a way to somehow get Jeno to pay attention to them. 

That didn’t matter though since you’d found a perfect friend circle for yourself. That friend circle being Jeno’s friend circle. They were all extremely bubbly and accepting of your joining in the group. One particularly was extremely close to you. Jaemin. Having shared the same energy level and brain cells, you got close to each other really quick. 

Jeno chuckles at your antics before complying to your silent request, “Whatever. Though, I’d actually say nothing if you do end up being the first one to wear my new hoodie” you look up at him, confused. “you look cute in my clothes” he sends a wink in your way, leaning down to press a small peck on your forehead before diverting his attention to the shows he constantly switched back and forth to. 

“Oh? Then maybe i should change into that right now-” you attempt to get up fast to hide your blushing self, only to be pulled back with a strong grip on the material of your (his) hoodie which resulted in you falling right back onto Jeno’s lap. “Maybe you shouldn’t” he gave you a playful warning look, breaking out into a smile seeing you huff out giggles. 

“But you just said you don’t mind!” you try standing up again, “doesn’t matter” he pulls you back with more force, now locking you in a tight embrace as your head gets flushed into the nape of his neck, arms holding his bare shoulder for support.

Married couple. A title your friends had given you due to the pair of yours dynamic. It’s kind of like an inside joke at this point. Each time they’d point out you having something more than a platonic friendship, Jeno would always be the first one to dismiss it, clearing all misunderstandings whereas you’d make little to no effort to do so. Your love for the lad basically oozed out of you. 

It’s a little hard to not have feelings for a guy with the personality of an angel, behavior intact and looks as a plus one. You are sure he had at least a little something for you seeing his actions, lingering kisses, touches. You are so sure he’s got at least something for you.

Pressing one last kiss to the side of your head, he moves you gently off of him and onto the fluffy couch as you stare at him in confusion, clearly not liking the warmth being taken away from you. “what happened?” you ask him, about to pull him back down, “I promised a friend I’d go over, we’ll cuddle once i return home, is that alright with you doll?” he inquires, leaning down to smoothen down the hair that was sticking out here and there from his previous actions. 

“Why wouldn’t i be alright with that? As long as you give me all the cuddles we’re missing out on right now” you feign anger to which he gave you his signature eye smile. “Of course.” With that he left the room, probably to change into something else. 

You really wanted to spill out your feelings for the lad to him, you weren’t scared of being rejected. Jaemin, Jeno’s known better half, had assured you multiple times of how you’d definitely be the only one to catch Jeno’s attention. 

What you were really scared of was if you’d lose what you had right now. Feelings are stuff that comes and goes in a rapid and you can lose everything you have if your feelings for the other deteriorates somehow. But your friendship was way more important to you than your feelings and you wouldn’t, in a million years, want to lose what you’ve established with Jeno. 

You spend the rest of your evening watching shows, painting your nails, and even reminding yourself to make one of Jeno’s favourite dishes for dinner once he gets home, mentally thanking Jaemin for reminding you to not forget that little confession plan you had plotted. 

You’d make it subtle that you’re in love with your roommate through your actions rather than words, though, he’d be an idiot if he hadn’t already noticed at least a bit of affection for him through your clinginess. 

You make your way to your room after turning the flame down to low upon hearing your phone ring. You wipe your hands on your hoodie before pressing the red button and picking it up, Jaemin’s contact taking up its place on your screen.

“Jaem?” you inquire stupidly as though his caller ID didn’t make it obvious enough that it was, in fact your best friend calling you.

“I would have barged into your house if you’d taken any longer to pick up the call but congratulations for finally gathering some balls to do it Y/n!!” Jaemin screams into the speaker, obvious that he’s excited. “Congrats?” you ask back.

“Yes! Finally! You guys look so cute in that image, I almost threw it at Haechan!” he replied with the same energy. Confusion clouds your mind as you try making sense of his words. 

“Picture? Congratulations? Jaem, what are you talking about?" 

"You know! The picture he just posted of the two of you being all lovey-dovey! I never took Jeno to be a romanticist! Like, the caption??-” you immediately open your laptop to log into your social to see what imagine Jaemin was talking about, “I have a slight doubt that you’re the one who posted it from his-” finally in on instagram, you scroll down to see any new posts of your roommate,

“-phone, but like. I’m so glad that you asked him out, knowing Jeno, he’d never do it unless you double dog dare him-” running impatient hearing Jaemin ramble on about the said image, you finally search up Jeno’s name, feeling your stomach churn with an unknown feeling. 

“Also, did you dye your hair? You look really cute in that image though it isn’t all that clear! I told you from day one you’re a match made in heaven-”

You click on the recent post, the image of Jeno, leaning in, pressing a kiss on the lip of a girl unknown to you fills up your screen, ‘my one and only for eternity’ as the caption. “How was the kiss?-” you pause for a second, refreshing the page to see if it’s really an image of Jeno, kissing a girl, “Jaem.." 

"I mean, if you’re gonna act all shy with me now then don’t tell me, but tell me how did you confess to him?” you can physically feel your heart drop down to your stomach

“Jaemin..” “you finally get to call him your boyfriend, Y/n! No space between the two words! I can’t believe he decided to make your relationship public the day of confession! But seriously-”

“Jaemin listen-" 

"I’m still not over the caption, where did the confession take place?? You should’ve called me man! I would’ve recorded it-”

“Jaemin!” you finally scream, losing it at all the words coming out of his mouth, feeling enraged at yourself for ever thinking you stood a chance. Hearing the line go silent, you feel something wet travel down your cheeks the more you stare at your crush kissing a girl that’s not you. You choke out a silent sob. How are you supposed to face him after today, knowing everything you felt for him was unrequited?

“That girl in the image is not me.”

[dingdongitsbees]

BLACK-EYED SUSAN | LEVI X READER HUNGER GAMES AU

Chapter 14: Memory Lane

Previous - Next

Tw: alcoholism

WC: 8.3k Ao3 link Ask to be added to the taglist! It will be updated weekly on Saturdays

First person version can be found here

Master List

“We don’t even ask for happiness, just a little less pain.” – Charles Bukowski; Letter to William

. 

. 

.

Fuck was the only thing running through your mind as you yanked up Levi and sprinted out of the room, other mentors staring at you. You weaved through the crowd of sponsors until you spotted Hanji who too had frozen by the refreshment bar, staring up at a screen on the wall. She saw you both and immediately grimaced, putting down her glass and chasing after as you went by.

You could hear sponsors yelling out the names of the tributes along with yours and Levi’s, complaints loud and clear. You drowned them out as best you could which wasn’t hard when you could feel your heartbeat pounding in your ears. You all got to the elevator, some clown looking businessmen fussing as you forced your way past and in, you punched the button to close the doors not giving them a chance to hitch a ride.

“Fuck,” said Hanji.

“Guess we’re on the same page then?” you said, giving a forced smile before looking back the orange numbers slowly climbing to twelve.

“The fuck are we supposed to do?” Levi said, tangling a hand through his hair. “He’s going to have our fucking heads.”

Hanji bit her lip, foot beating against the metal floor. “He can’t do something like that immediately right? I mean they weren’t even our kids.” The door slid open and you all made your way out, beelining to the lounge. “You guys are loved, even if they tried to copy you, it’s not like he can go up on the news and say he’s ordered both of your executions.”

“Don’t give him the benefit of the doubt,” Levi muttered.

You held your face in your hands. “He’s going to do something I just don’t know what.”

“Guys I’m sure it’s not going to be that-” Hanji started.

“They were from different districts,” you interrupted, “It wasn’t a repeat of me and Levi, it was two kids who didn’t even know the other existed until a week ago, there’s no other way to read this but as a fuck you to Zeke and they got the idea from us.”

She went silent.

You continued. “He’s always been all about keeping the peace and shit, this no doubt is going to start stuff in Eight and Six at the least, I hope to fuck Twelve hasn’t done anything yet. It’s going to drive him up the fucking wall if people start rebelling again especially if it’s because of us. He could punish the whole district if he wants to, they aren’t on Capitol screens, he doesn’t give a fuck if everyone at Twelve gets their legs broken as long as they keep the coal coming.”

“Sure, he might not kill us Hanji,” Levi whispered, “But he can do things now, things he couldn’t do when we stood on the edge of that fucking tower.”

Across all three of your minds flew the faces of the kids. Them in the dining hall laughing about jokes only kids would find funny, or jokes that only happy kids would find funny. Their big eyes looking up to you with admiration and awe. Eren and Mikasa running up to you with a smile. They were just kids. Just fucking kids.

“What the hell are we supposed to do then?” Hanji asked.

You looked to her, hoping you didn’t look as scared as you felt. “We wait.”

. 

The trip back home was dowsed in anxiety. You had managed to avoid the press suspiciously well and got onto the train with zero problems on the way. You were waiting to get fucking sniped.

You kept checking out the window to see further down the tracks in case there was a bomb waiting for you or a firing squad. You couldn’t sleep, none of you could. Levi and you just took shifts tossing and turning beneath your sheets, waiting for the jig to finally be up.

But nothing happened.

The food was normal or not poisoned, not even the liquor, there was never the barrel of a gun to greet you in the morning or every time you went into a new room. It was uncomfortably normal.

When you finally arrived at Twelve you were met with the same. Everything was fine. It didn’t make sense. The orphanage wasn’t burnt down, there wasn’t a line of whipping posts, not even a coincidental mine explosion since you had left.

You all walked home, waiting for something to jump out at you, but the bushes stayed empty of people. Levi and you bid goodbye to an equally unnerved Hanji and went inside. You two were about to finally let your hands drop from each other’s grasp until you spotted a peacekeeper standing on guard in the hallway.

You bit down a gasp at the sight of the gun in his hand, swallowing the fear down as best you could while Levi’s fingers constricted around yours.

“Can we help you officer?” you asked, hoping the answer was a no.

Silently he gestured towards the door of the study you never used. You nodded hesitantly and looked to Levi hoping to anything he had a plan that involved you not walking through that door. He, like you, was empty of ideas.

His thumb tapped the back of your hand nervously as you walked over and grabbed the doorhandle with a shaky breath. You turned it, hoping the person inside wouldn’t be who you knew it was.

Zeke smiled.

“Glad to see you two again,” he said, putting down a book he must have been skimming through while waiting for you.

“Likewise,” you replied.

He chuckled. “Oh let’s not lie to each other shall we? I want us to be good friends. Sound like a plan Levi?”

Levi in question was clearly trying to restrain himself from ripping himself from your grasp and killing Zeke right where he stood. Maybe you should have let him.

“Ah I understand not everyone can get along sometimes, but I hope you can let that change Levi.”

“Why are you here?” Levi cut in.

Zeke tutted. “No wonder she usually does the talking.”

You inhaled, putting on a respectful smile. “Is there anything we can help you with? You’ve clearly come a long way to come see plain old us.”

“I expect you saw how the games ended and you weren’t just wasted during it like most of you pitiful mentors?”

You nodded and dug your nail into Levi’s hand to stop him from shooting back at the insult.

“Good, that saves us time. The reason I’m here is because it seems some districts see the ending as a symbol of rebellion. What are your thoughts on that?”

You paused, thinking over every possible reply, hoping it could be one he would want. “I think they were just two dumb kids.”

“Good, we agree, and it seems so does most of the Capitol, but the districts aren’t too quick to get to that conclusion, especially since this isn’t the first time something like this has happened, is it?”

You swallowed. “I hope you see the situations are different.”

He smiled and put his hands on the desk, leaning forward. “And yet again I agree, and once again the districts don’t. You two have become martyrs in only a few days at Eight and Six, funny how people look to those who don’t want a part in it, no?”

You squeezed your eyes shut, the hypotheticals forming into realities.

“I am guessing that you two want no part in a rebellion, correct?” His inflection was harsh on the word, nearly spitting it.

You both shook your heads and all three of knew you weren’t lying. You two didn’t sign up to be leaders, especially to lead people to die and just get themselves into worse situations. It would only take a single order for peacekeepers to crack down properly. You were just meant to spend the rest of your lives drowning yourselves in whiskey and making sure kids were happy. All you two wanted anymore was to be alive and with the other there. You didn’t even need to be happy.

“Did you know that little flower that you two became so obsessed with is a weed?”

You two shook your heads again.

“Weeds are dangerous things you see, once you let them take root it’s almost impossible to remove them, and even if you think you have, they return almost immediately. They barely need any sun or water, just a crack in the ground will do.”

“So you like gardening?” Levi deadpanned.

Zeke chuckled but it seemed strained. “Yes I do, maybe I’ll show you my gardens one day. But you see, weeds are quite similar to something else, hope. And that is a type of weed I want even less than that yellow flower. Floch unfortunately didn’t seem to understand that.”

You all knew what that meant. You wondered if he was at least merciful to Capitol citizens even if they had disappointed him.

“What do you need us to do?” Levi asked knowingly.

Zeke analysed you both, his usual smile gone, distaste running through his veins. “I need you to tell everyone, I need you to convince everyone that the game was just dumb teenagers desperately and stupidly acting out of love. You two are the blueprint for that are you not?”

You nodded.

“Good, and I mean convince everyone.” He clicked on a device, it whirring to life as he walked past. “That includes me.”

The door shut behind you as you stared at the silent video of the girl from Eight talking to none other than you with the biggest grin on her face.

Fuck.

. 

As soon as you knew Zeke was gone, you both sprinted over to Hanji and you immediately called Nick and Erwin who were already organising a trip to the districts, Nick’s voice much higher than usual. You weren’t the only ones that received a visit of some sort it seemed. The five of you rapidly started planning, trusting Nick to write speeches Zeke would approve of. Mid call, Nick got notified of a party you were invited to, at none other than the president’s estate. That would be your court room at the end of the trip, the roman emperor putting his thumb up or down as his verdict.

You had to convince him. You didn’t have a choice.

In the morning you both bid quick farewells to the kids at the orphanage who complained saying you had stayed away too long as it was, but they didn’t ask why, they could see that manic look in your eyes. Eren and Mikasa came with you to the station, refusing to stay behind in silent stubbornness. They didn’t press but there was only so many things that could scare you and Levi anymore. They didn’t need to guess.

They looked at you through the window of the train, nodding to you, their usual smiles non-existent.

For them, you had to convince him. You had to.

Time didn’t make any sense on the train, it could have been a few minutes or a full week until you arrived at Eleven. Nick and Erwin were waiting for you on the platform, hushing you over to the mayor’s house before Erwin shoved outfits for you to get changed into.

The first few districts weren’t bad, but that wasn’t any sort of victory. They stared up at you the same as when you had first won, empty looks with a hint of curiosity. When you scanned over the crowd, spouting exquisitely written propaganda, you swore you saw yellow in the audience, but you thought it was your imagination.

It wasn’t, that became apparent when you got to Eight.

“And here we have our wonderful guests, the victors of the 67th Hunger Games!”

Levi’s hand was within yours as you walked to centre stage, any panic that was threatening to spill over into your faces just transferred to the tightness of your grip. The crowd looked up at you, their jaws stiff. Something was wrong.

“It’s a pleasure to be back here after so many years,” you said, “I hope you can welcome us with open arms again.”

It was dead silent but you hadn’t expected anything else.

“We offered to the President for us to go on this trip, especially since we saw a mirror at the end of the 74th game this year. I’m sure you all saw it too. It shocked us to say the least but we knew immediately the reason they had done something so-”

The words got stuck in your throat. One by one, in a ripple across the crowd they each slid a flower behind their ear, a flower you didn’t want to be associated with anymore, especially not now.

“It-it shocked us to say the least-”

They thumped their fists to their chest, right over their hearts.

No.

Levi pulled you slightly back from the mic, moving over to talk instead, but there was nothing he could have said that would have changed anything.

The crowd dispersed in yells as peacekeepers shoved their way through, finding a boy who couldn’t have been older than seventeen, and looked too similar to a girl you saw on TV. The crowd shouted as they hoisted the boy up who struggled against their grip, thrashing his limbs trying to use any opening to get out, fear painting itself upon his features. He looked to you two and screamed your names, you just looked back. You just looked back.

Peacekeepers grabbed onto your arms as they pulled you both back from the stage.

“What are you doing?” Levi asked. “What the fuck are you doing?”

You watched in stupid horror as the boy was thrown on stage and brought to his knees with a gun between his eyes. He looked to you, mouth open in a beg. Eyes as wide as the hundreds of kids you’ve watched die again and again and again.

The peacekeepers weren’t fast enough to stop you seeing the blood dye his yellow petals.

Levi hugged your shaking shoulders as you got back onto the train. The other three stared at you. None of you talked.

Seven wasn’t any better, in fact it got considerably worse, this time the peacekeepers deciding to execute two. At Six they executed the tribute’s whole family. And yet every time you didn’t expect it, you just never saw it coming until brain matter was flying at you. At Five they made you continue the speech with bodies at your feet.

You could have cried on stage when Four didn’t have a single flower behind their ears. They just let you do the speech, while you waited for something to go wrong. Nothing did for the last few stops, but the career districts never needed convincing, they weren’t going to rebel when they were the Capitol’s lap dogs. But it didn’t mean they believed it.

You probably knew long before the party what your verdict would be.

The party was crowded with people neither of you cared about, Hanji hid with you the entire time while Erwin and Nick talked on your behalf, the latter being quite frustrated in having to do so. You stayed against the wall, not near any table where someone could think of an excuse to talk to you without being forward.

“That’s him over there,” Hanji muttered to you, pointing a finger to the other side of the room where a bald man talked animatedly to some others, periodically lifting his flask to his mouth.

“Who?” Levi asked, who to be honest didn’t care for the answer.

“The dude with the moustache,” you replied. “He’s the new gamemaker right?”

Hanji nodded, taking a sip of her champagne. “Dot Pixis I’m pretty sure, he was Zeke’s choice to replace Floch.”

You all looked back over, analysing the man, whether he was cut from the same cloth of the president would remain to be seen.

An hour passed before anything interesting happened. You and Levi took the dangerous trek to the snack table, hoping to stock up so you wouldn’t have to go back for a good while, when you were ambushed by a particular older man.

Levi swore under his breath, Pixis either didn’t hear or didn’t mind, the crinkling of his eyes the second after told you it was the latter.

“Good to meet you two, I’ve heard a lot of things,” Pixis said.

You poked your tongue into your cheek. “All good things I hope?”

“Well that’s a matter of perspective isn’t it?”

Levi tched, a glare festering. You bumped your hip into his gently.

“May I have this dance?” Pixis asked.

You glanced to Levi who clearly wanted you to say no, but nodded curtly anyway. You didn’t have room to offend the gamemaker.

“I’d be delighted to,” you replied, smile tight.

You glanced back to Levi, letting you maintain a second of eye-contact before Pixis took your hand and whisked you away and out of his sight.

Pixis came to a stop in the middle of the dance floor, letting you adjust so your hand was clasped in his and your other was on his shoulder. His fingers ghosted your waist, sitting adjacent to your skin. His carefulness made you nervous. You swallowed quickly and put on a smile that you hoped would charm an older man like him. He smiled back.

You began to sway to the music, blending in with the rest of the crowd.

“Sorry I’m not the best dancer,” you said, “So sorry in advance if I step on your feet.”

“Not to worry, neither am I.”

You fell back into a silence you desperately wanted to break. It felt like you were being torn apart and dissected under his gaze. You held back a shiver.

“How are you feeling about your new job?” you asked. “It being your first year and all.”

“I do have faith in myself despite my age.”

“It’s a big responsibility, especially after Floch’s last act.”

He chuckled, nodding lightly. “Yes, I’ve been trusted with quite a big task, especially when coming to the Quarter Quell, but I think I can handle it.”

You narrowed your eyes as you wound around other pairs, careful to not step on anyone’s feet. “I almost forget that was next year,” you lied, “Any big plans for it?”

He tapped his nose. “Ah that’s a secret unfortunately.”

You clicked your tongue, the glint in his eye was much too mischievous to not at least spill something. He grinned.

“I guess I can tell you one thing, since you’ve been such beautiful company.” He looked away for a moment, peering at everyone around you. “Let’s just say it will be a trip down memory lane.”

“You’re real cryptic old man.”

His eyes crinkled into crow’s feet. “I try.”

You danced a little longer, long enough for you to come to the conclusion that something was off with the man in front of you. This man was playing a parallel game but you couldn’t even begin to guess what it was. You weren’t even sure if the gamemaker was on the Capitol’s side. Something was wrong.

When the song ended, he guided you to the edge of the dance floor and handed you back over to Levi with a twinkle in his gaze.

“Good to meet you two, I’m sure our paths will cross again.”

He walked off without another word, leaving you both simultaneously confused and on edge. There was something up with him.

You stayed on the brinks for the rest of the party, avoiding everyone at whatever cost, coming up with excuse after excuse to escape any conversation. Nick did his best to make up for our lack of socialising, representing you two as something other than bottled down glares. You were just waiting for it to end so you could know your sentence. Good or bad. Survival or destruction. Life or death.

“What’s taking that shithead so long?” Levi muttered into your ear.

“He’s probably just torturing us and watching us tremble from somewhere.”

Levi clicked his tongue and then glanced to you. His glare disappeared, replaced with a look you knew too well. When he moves his lips to the side and opens his eyes a little more. The look that meant he knew something bad was about to happen. You didn’t disagree.

“We’ll manage even if it’s a no, we’ll figure it out,” you said, hoping you could convince yourself of it in the process.

Your fingers ghosted over the top of his before lacing with them. He lifted it to his mouth and kissed your knuckles gently before running his fingers along them distractedly. You leant your head on his shoulder, watching the crowd like a scene of nature, just animals going about and following their basic survival instincts of drinking, eating, and socialising. You thought you only had one of three instincts left anymore.

A voice came rumbling from speakers around the room. “If everyone could please move to the garden we will be commencing the firework display!”

Chattering like bees, everyone moved as instructed as you both trailed behind. Getting swamped in the middle would be a nightmare realised and one that would legitimately cause Levi to lash out at the colourfully dressed strangers.

You both took your time, taking a step each time another would take three, scanning over the crowd, trying to look for a dreaded blond with glasses, Levi’s arm tight around your middle.

“There,” Levi whispered.

You followed his eyeline up above, the balcony on the second story where the antagonist of your story stood. He was already watching you by the time you made eye contact with him.

Boom.

You and Levi flinched at the noise, having to hold back from covering your ears.

Zeke smirked.

Boom.

Red spilled across the sky as openly as a punctured artery.

Zeke’s face slowly lowered.

Boom.

Zeke shook his head.

The crowd cheered.

Boom.

Levi’s fingers dug into your waist.

You tried not to cry.

Boom.

. 

You didn’t even notice you were back in Twelve until you were in front of your house, the whole trip back was a fever dream. You couldn’t distinguish what had and hadn’t happened and you didn’t care. As soon as the door was opened you both beelined to the bottles waiting for you, letting you indulge yourselves in blank minds and slow heart beats.

It probably took too many until your brain was lagging behind your body, but it finally happened all the same.

You laid together on the rug, eyes staring up at the white ceiling. You looked at each other in the threads of red. You reached out and touched his delicate cheek now flushed with liquor. You trailed your fingers across all of his features, along his jaw, the bend of his lips, to the bridge of his nose. He watched, eyes attentive and quiet.

You pressed a kiss to his cheek before placing another on his forehead, then the cup of his jaw, and then to corner of his mouth. He pulled you towards him, lifting you on top as he smashed his lips into yours, as desperate as all those years ago in that sandy tower. You tangled your hands into his hair, while he held your face.

You shook.

He stopped; you brought your hands to your face.

He circled his arms around your body and brought you closer until you were lying on his chest, face buried in his shirt. You tried to breath.

“I love you,” you whispered. “I love you I love you I love you I love you.”

“I know,” he replied, though it sounded croaky, brushing your hair out of your eyes, “I know.”

And for the first time in five years, you cried.

. 

The next few weeks swapped between panic attacks and emptiness, sometimes a freak of nature coming through the day and letting both happen at once. Brains are fiddle things, aren’t they? The kids noticed something was wrong, but they knew to keep their mouths shut.

You were just waiting for it to all come crashing down, it would happen, it had to, but you didn’t know when. Each night you went to bed wondering if you’d wake up alone or wake up at all.

Only time would tell.

“Let’s go up to the hill today,” you said, not even looking to Levi as you dried the dishes.

“Any reason?” he asked, elbow deep in the sink.

“Old time’s sake.”

He glanced to you, worry already etched in. “Okay.”

You both cleaned up quickly and walked through town, you swung your hands between you two like a kid while he looked at you softly. You went through the back streets, careful not to draw attention from any peacekeepers as you got to the fence. You slipped through, quietly as possible so you didn’t break the silence between you.

When you got past the tree line it was like you could breathe again.

You wandered up the familiar path that had started to become overgrown in your absence. Grass grew from around stones and bushes moved forward from the sides where they used to keep at bay. And dotted around, colouring the entire path, were flowers that made you sick.

They crunched under your shoes as you went down the path. One time, in a lifetime that didn’t exist, you two would have picked some of them and slid it behind the other’s ear. What a weird world that would be.

You trudged to the top in silence. You sometimes jumped from foot to foot, spinning around on a rock every now and again, pretending you were a kid you could no longer be. He watched, eyes blinking slowly.

When you got to the top, you turned away from the trees and into the opening. The grass reached your knees, tickling you. You waded through before you found a nice place where the shade would shield your head, but the rays would reach and warm your body. You laid down, letting the green frame your view. Levi pushed down the grass between you and laid on top of them, your side glued to the his.

Your hands brushed, like you were those teenagers too scared to grab on just yet. A lifetime ago.

You stayed in a comfortable silence, peering up at the sky and letting the birds cast their songs, beautiful and ugly. The wind caressed you, rippling through the grass towards you. It was almost peaceful enough to forget.

“You remind me of your mum now, you know?” you said, looking up at the clouds above.

He turned to you, eyebrows furrowed. “What way? The dead part?”

You snorted and clasped your hand over your mouth to contain the rest of your giggles. “Yeah sure, that too. But I mean the way you carry yourself is like her, especially when you’re with the kids.”

“Oh?”

You were silent for a moment, watching the grey whisps go across the sky.

“I feel like I’m starting to forget about her,” he said, “Farlan and Isabel too.”

You hummed in agreement, nestling into his side.

“She never told me anything before she died, it was just me and her.”

You perked up, raising yourself onto your elbows as you looked down at him. “Are you curious where the rest of your family is? Did she never tell you?”

He inhaled and nodded, before letting the air burst out of him in a quick movement. “She didn’t tell me anything apart from my last name, I don’t even know if she was born here let alone who my father is.”

“Do you want to know?”

He shrugged. “Doesn’t change anything, or I hope it doesn’t. I don’t need shitty surprises anymore. You’ve given me enough for a fucking lifetime.”

You laughed, shutting your eyes as your voice carried through the air. It was a long time since you last properly laughed. The air in the hill was different than inside the fence, uncaged. His eyes stayed on you with a soft smile to match. It had been a while since you had both felt happy, and you probably would never feel it again, not properly anyway, but you hoped you two could find pockets of it every once in a while.

Then you heard the screams.

You both jolted up, glancing to each other before breaking into a sprint, nearly tripping on stray rocks as you flew down the hill and into the trees. Your heart was in your ears as your feet pounded on the dirt. Your leg ached but you couldn’t care.

The day of reckoning had come.

Finally the fence came into view. You heard the buzzing too late.

“Fuck!” you shouted as your hands jolted with electricity.

“Shit,” Levi said, skidding to a stop in front of the fence while you tried to suck the pain from your fingers.

Your hand went to your head, threatening to pull out hair. There was no way it was a coincidence that for the first time in decades they finally turned on the fence while you were outside. There’s no such thing as coincidences anymore.

You shrugged off your jacket, testing it against the wire, which thankfully didn’t shock you again. You lifted the wire, stepping down on the one below it, opening a little entrance. Levi ducked through before quickly swapping and letting you in.

You ran through the deserted back alleys, shouting getting louder as you went. You came to a stop in front of the hub.

It was chaos.

People screamed as they were beat with batons, noses spilling with blood. In the surrounding houses people tried to hold back peacekeepers that raiding their homes, spilling items to the ground outside and setting the items alight. Children cried.

Smoke billowed out of the hub as it went up in flames.

Your wide eyes scanned around, your body frozen in shock until your gaze fell upon a familiar blond soldier. You both ran over, crouching down to his form leaning against the hub, blood trickling down half his face.

“Hannes look at me,” you said, grabbing his face and lifting.

He groaned, hand clenched into his side.

“Hannes what’s happening?” Levi questioned.

Hannes coughed, like his vocal cords were crushed. He raised a slow and lone finger to his right. You two followed its direction, and your bodies went cold. The orphanage.

“Go,” he croaked.

You didn’t waste time in doing so, taking off again to a painfully familiar building with painfully familiar voices that sounded a bit too loud. From the entrance kids were being dragged out by their hair as they screamed, hands reaching up and clawing at the giant gloves that held them. They tossed them to the ground like garbage, not caring as they hiccupped sobs.

“What the fuck are you doing?” you yelled.

They all looked to you, kids and peacekeepers, freezing in their movements. It was silent for a moment until the kids called out to you. The peacekeepers threw any kids they had to the ground and marched off; their jobs apparently done.

Levi and you went over immediately, holding snotty and tear strewn faces in your hands, holding their little bodies to your chests as they wept. You looked over all of them, counting and going down the list of names as quickly as possible. There were two missing.

“They-” a child spoke, wiping their eyes, “They got taken- he tackled one- he.” The kid was trying so hard to get their words out.

A crack sounded.

Levi instantly looked to you while three kids hung off his neck. You kissed the child on the forehead, muttering a quick goodbye and apology.

“Look after them, I’ll go,” you said to Levi quickly. He nodded sending everyone back inside carrying those whose legs hurt too much to walk.

Your legs were pins and needles as you ran through the streets, the cracking getting louder after each block of houses that had already been raided. Of course he had played the hero. He was just a kid, but he never seemed to understand that. Even Mikasa must not have been enough to stop him.

The town square was crowded, filled with fearful looks and crying. As soon as they spotted you they parted like the red sea, letting you see.

In the middle they had erected a pole, tied to it, a boy with a bloody back, cuts torn into his skin. On top of him laid a girl, arms wrapped around the boy’s torso as he yelled at her to go, wincing every time the whip came down again.

Crack.

You didn’t think.

“Get the fuck away from my kids!” You barrelled towards the peacekeeper, sending him to the ground in a cloud of dust.

You both struggled from domination. A punch flew into your jaw, you sent one to his sternum. He gripped your hair and ripped it back away from him, you didn’t give him the satisfaction of crying out despite blood beginning to welt.

Eren cried your name, yanking against the chains that kept his hands in place.

“Mikasa get Hanji!” you yelled, taking no break from beating everything you could into the man before you.

“But-” she started, staring at the growing cuts on your face.

“Go!”

She switched quickly, nodding as she ran full pelt through the crowd and to the victor village. You focused your attention back to the peacekeeper, trying to keep your position above him as Eren called your name, telling you to run away.

Your job was the one to take the pain, not them. That was a role you had taken on and you would do anything to hold onto it. There was no doubt in your mind that you should have been on that whipping pole.

The man started to gain his damage on you, it was an unfair fight from the start with his protective gear and weight advantage. His punches started to pile up, knocking your brain around in its skull, threatening to knock you unconscious at any moment.

“Get the fuck off of her,” a familiar voice said, sending warmth into your bones.

You jumped back, letting Levi take the reins as he threw the peacekeeper around like a plaything, stomping his foot down on the man’s chest. You weren’t sure if you heard a crack, you hoped you did. You stumbled over to Eren, hand on your head, wincing as your brain yelled at you.

“Eren are you just tied or are your hands locked?”

“Locked.”

You cursed and turned back around, watching the fight. Levi continued kicking, yelling threat after threat each time. You weren’t sure if you were thankful he didn’t have a knife.

But then more people in uniforms started coming out from the crowd, guns raised and fingers on triggers. Levi swore and backed away immediately, walking backwards towards you and Eren, fingers twitching. You both hid Eren from view, hands by your sides as you tried to think of something to buy time but the circle of peacekeepers and guns just grew. Your hand rested upon the back of Eren’s head. You glanced down to him, his emerald eyes wide.

“It’ll be fine,” you whispered.

A figure broke through the line of white uniforms, coming to your side immediately.

“Mikasa where the hell is-”

“Woah woah woah,” a voice called from the left, you all whipped your heads around to see a Hanji with her hands up in surrender. “Sorry to bother you officer, do you recognise me or perhaps those two others there by any chance? Might have seen us on TV?”

The peacekeeper narrowed his eyes at Hanji before turning to you and Levi. He clicked his tongue.

“I apologise for any ruckus they might have caused, some of us victors are a bit impulsive.”

“It was the kid that was in trouble,” the man grumbled.

Hanji glanced to your group, noticing a shirtless and bloody Eren behind you. “I see. I apologise on his behalf too he’s a rambunctious kid, amazing what puberty does right?”

The man glared at her.

“So since this is only a first time slip up, you reckon you can let them go? I’m afraid the Capitol does need their stars and the kids are a packaged deal.”

He ran he hand along the whip, gathering Eren’s blood into his palm before flicking it Hanji’s face. She blinked, not letting her smile drop.

“Fine,” he spat. He turned around, facing the crowd that had gathered. “This shit hole has not been taken care of properly these past years. There will be no arguing with officers or trying to slide things by in your shitty market. No one should be out after dark without specific instruction to be allowed to do so!”

The crowd was silent, shuffling under his gaze.

“Why are you all standing there? Go!”

They dispersed quickly, nearly stampeding as they raced back to what was left of their homes. A peacekeeper came over and unlocked Eren who immediately collapsed into Mikasa’s arms. She and Levi took half of his body each, laying him on his stomach in their hands and exposing his wounds to the air. Eren muscled down tears as you all raced back to the orphanage. When you got the rubbing alcohol on him, he wasn’t so quiet anymore.

. 

The rest of the year was the worst Twelve had ever seen.

Curfews were enforced to an extreme, whippings became part of the natural routine, and it didn’t matter if you were victors, there was no way you could stop them. The hub never reopened, any chance people of getting money from hunting or getting things outside the fence were gone. The fence never turned back off.

You never got any word from Zeke to let you know whether this was all your fault, or it was just something that had been meaning to happen for a while. You hoped it was the former so nothing else would come to greet you.

The kids tried to stay positive but even they couldn’t hold smiles for as long anymore. Most let their pent-up rage come out when training. It was the only outlet they had anymore after toys and books got confiscated.

You didn’t see Hannes again after that day. Some heard he got killed quietly, others heard he had been sent back to his old home Five. No one knew, and you were too scared to ask the people that knew the answer.

Hanji, Levi and you wanted to go back to drinking your weights in alcohol, but it hardly got shipped in anymore, only your over stocking got you through bit by bit until you could buy some more again.

And after all that, there was the Quarter Quell to worry about.

Of course, the every twenty-five year round was coming around again to wreck its own specific chaos. You tried not to think about what the special catch would be that year.

Winter had come early the week of the supposed announcement. Filling the streets with snow that would likely kill a few families off through hypothermia. You three gave over all the warm clothes and blankets you could get to the orphanage, the kids would survive, you would be sure of it, even if you had to walk through the streets in threadbare clothing.

The day the announcement was meant to come, you both went to visit the kids with Hanji, trying to calm their nerves (or yours) as best you could. Eren and Mikasa were inseparable from you two since the day you brought them home to the orphanage and tailed you two like dogs whenever you came over, just sitting silently nearby whenever you talked to someone else. They knew it was a dumb idea to show that, and you two told them that yourselves time and time again.

“If you show Zeke we’re close, he’s only going to target you more, you know that right?”

They would just shrug.

At the end of the day you all bid them goodbye, gearing yourselves up to get home and watch the broadcast. The walk home was silent, just feet kicking into the snow as you shuffled to the village. With a half-hearted two-finger salute to Hanji, you went your separate ways into your homes.

Neither Levi nor you could talk, your mouths dry, but you bumped your shoulders into the other’s before tangling your hands together. With him trailing behind, you went to the kitchen, grabbing out your usual tea supplies. He watched silently as you heated the water, eyes glued to the bubbling water. He rested his chin on your shoulder as you put in the tea bags and wrapped his arms around your waist as you waited for the water to drain the leaves. You swayed side to side as the water browned, your breaths mixing with the steam.

When you knew Levi would be satisfied, you picked up the mugs, passing one to Levi and made your way to the couch, making sure to grab a bottle of whiskey on the way for the aftermath. You blew over the surface and took a sip, eyes on the off TV. Neither of you moved to the remote. Neither of you could.

“What time is it meant to start?” you whispered.

All you could see was Zeke’s shaking head, peering down at you.

“Five,” he answered. He looked to you, his eyes hard. “We’ll handle it, whatever it is.”

You nodded, but you weren’t sure if you believed it. This was the Quarter Quell, the rules weren’t the same anymore. Zeke could rig it however he wanted, maybe he would just reap the tributes from District 12 kids which could all undoubtedly be from the orphanage, he could double the amount of tributes, he could make you vote on who to send in. There were too many possibilities, and there was no way at least your kids were getting away unscathed, just because it had been a year it didn’t mean he had forgotten.

When the hour hand was about to tick over, you reached out and grabbed the remote, not letting yourself hesitate turning it on. You both downed both of your teas, wishing you had gotten a mug of gin instead, and stared at Willy Tybur, his hair dyed neon yellow for the occasion. You leant forward on your knees, hands in an empty prayer over your nose and mouth.

“Thank you for tuning in everyone!” Willy started, flashing a white smile to the camera. “Today we’ll be seeing the beginning of a moment in history. It’s been a full twenty-five years since out last Quarter Quell can you believe it! Well maybe for some of you youngins it’s pretty easy to believe but it just makes me feel old!”

A laugh track played.

“Now the last two Quarter Quells were something to remember, weren’t they? In the 25th there was no age limit to tributes, in the 50th tributes were made up of sister-brother pairs, and this one, the 75th Hunger Games… is a secret!”

A track of groaning and complaints played, to be honest you weren’t even sure if it was fake or if there was an audience that just sounded artificial. Well, all Capitol audience’s sound fake to be fair.

“I know, I know, annoying isn’t it? I’m curious myself as well, but we must all be patient for good things.”

You scoffed.

“Now, before it gets to be announced we will all be getting to have a little chat with the President himself! Zeke Yeager!” Willy pointed to a screen on his right with a dramatic fare of his hand. The screen switched over to show a smiling Zeke in his office.

He looked as conceited as usual, an annoying smirk already adorning his lips. “Thanks for having me on, Willy, I apologise for not being able to come to the studio, I’ve been assisting the gamemaker this year.”

“Yes, a new one I’ve heard since Floch stepped down! Pixis must be quite nervous for his first game to be the Quarter Quell! Do you think he’s up to the task?”

Zeke chuckled. “I’ve been quite delighted with his ideas, and I hope you will enjoy the show this year, it won’t be one you’ll want to miss.”

“I don’t doubt that Mr President, if you’ve had your own hand in it, I can’t help but think it’s going to be marvellous! Is there anything you’d like to say before we get to the main event?”

“Yes, I would Willy.” He coughed into his hand briefly before looking straight at the camera, the screen cutting to only show his broadcast. “The game this year will be a tribute to the true role of the Hunger Games, the purpose of course, being that it brings this whole country together. I don’t think we would be such a tightknit national community without the Games this I am sure of.”

Levi tched.

“But as we know, the ending of the last game was shocking to say the least, I was quite taken aback myself. It was an insult to the community that had flourished for the past seventy-four years, and it saddens me deeply. So I hope, the game this year will make up for that lack of faith in the system and bring us closer than ever before. Capitol citizens, the districts, tributes and victors.”

You both froze, swallowing built up saliva. There was no way in hell it wasn’t directed at you two, not when he looked at the camera the same way he had looked you in your own home. What the hell was Zeke’s plan?

“Now Mr President,” Willy’s voice came back on, “Would you please announce the distinction of this year’s Quarter Quell? We’re all dying to know, I’m on the edge of seat!”

Agreements and cheers sounded out from the audience (track?).

“Of course, you’ve all waited long enough.”

Zeke’s hands went out of frame for a second before coming back with a carved wooden box in hand. He showed it to audience, shimmering it like he was showing a kid. The audience ooed. You could feel sweat piling on the back of your neck. He opened the box with steady hands, taking out a wax-sealed envelope. He slid his finger across, uprooting the red wax, springing it open.

A beat.

Your eyes couldn’t move from the screen.

Ever so delicately he lifted out a piece of paper, unfolding it and quickly scanning over the words, a supressed grin slowly morphing onto his lips.

“This year, we will be celebrating the important role of mentors.”

Your heart hammered in your chest, you weren’t even sure if you were breathing anymore. You couldn’t look at Levi.

“So this year, along with reaping the usual two tributes from each district…”

No. Your eyes widened as Zeke opened his mouth to continue, you could feel his smirk burning itself into your soul. Don’t you fucking dare.

“…There will be an additional two tributes pulled from each district’s existing pool of victors.”

No. This wasn’t fucking happening. You gasped for air. Across the street you heard muffled yelling and the sound of smashing glass. No. You couldn’t hear the Tv anymore, whether the audience or Willy were screaming at the top of their lungs you wouldn’t know.

You were going back into hell, you were fucking going back. You had lived your lives trying to supress everything that had happened back then, and they were fucking sending you back.

No that wasn’t exactly true.

Levi stood, eyes glazed over. He walked to the front entrance of the house and opened the door, sending it closed behind him without caring if it slammed.

Either you or Hanji were going back, but Levi was guaranteed.

You scrambled up, rushing out the door, not caring how fucking cold it was. You frantically turned your head looking for him. Across the street you could see Hanji with her head in her hands through the window, bottles and the TV smashed to pieces.

You turned your head down the road again, seeing his figure walking slowly through the snow. It crunched beneath his feet, attempting to slow him down, and no doubt burning his socked feet. But he didn’t care, he just kept walking.

You chased after him, nearly tripping in your haste. The wind howled, trying to either sweep you away or bring Levi back to you, you weren’t sure. It was like he was dead the world, trudging forward, deaf to you calling his name, just looking forward at the horizon to a place that didn’t exist.

A place where none of this ever happened.

You finally caught up, running in front so he was forced to face you as he came to a stop.

You took in a stuttered breath.

He was crying.

Levi didn’t cry but fat tears rolled down his cheeks anyway, you didn’t know he even knew they were there.

“Levi?” you spoke, looking for recognition in his eyes.

You grasped onto his sleeves before pulling him into your arms. He was numb, like a puppet that had its strings cut, just dangling down with nothing tethering him to the world anymore.

“Where are you going?” you asked. His fingers dug into your back, threatening to tear through your clothes at his level of intensity, holding onto you like a lifeline.

“I don’t know,” he whispered. “I don’t know.”

His knees buckled, pulling you both down to the ground. Choked breaths ripped through him. His body shook as badly as his voice.

“I don’t know.”

.

.

.

a/n: sorry this took a bit to get out! i was swamped (and still am) with uni assignments and the chapter was much longer than initially anticipated lmao. i hope you enjoyed this one :)

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Thankful

Genre: Fan Fiction Pairing: Henry Cavill/Reader Warnings: It’s kinda cute? Rating: G Length: Drabble Disclaimer: a strict work of fiction, I own nothing except the original characters and the plot line. In no way am I affiliated to any of it.  

A/N: In the event I took a rare request, here you go Anon. I hope you like it. 

“What's the matter, duck?” Henry gently rubbed your shoulders. Tension seeming to melt, slightly, with his touch. “You've been off the last few days, talk to me.”

A faint smile, you wave it away, leaning into his touch. “It's nothing, Hen. Nothing to worry that pretty little head of yours over.”

What were you going to tell him? Tell him that you were homesick? Like a child at summer camp, you were devastated that you weren't able to fly home to spend at least part of the holiday season with your family. It was selfish and childish, but damn it you didn't care.

This would be the first year that you didn't get at least Thanksgiving with your family. The first year, in many, where you wouldn't spend the day listening to your dad argue with the football game on the television. The first time you wouldn't be at the brightly decorated table, enjoying your mother's prize winning cornbread stuffing. You hadn't seen your parents since early January and it was beginning to weigh on you.

You weren't the only person in the world struggling with this, why should you wallow? At very least you had Henry to share your time with. Having one another was more than some people in the world had right now. Sighing, you shake your head, trying to keep the tears away.

“I have to go FaceTime mom, I told her that I'd call before they ate dinner.” You break away from Henry. Pulling your sweater tighter around your shoulders. Leaving him with a peck on the cheek, you pat Kal on the way by.

“Tell her that I said Happy Thanksgiving,” Henry frowned, his words setting in a realization.

Watching you disappear to chat with your family, Henry would give you a few minutes before casually wandering in to have a chat with his in-laws. Allowing you to catch up, gave him a few minutes to put his sudden plan into action. Enough time to send a few quick texts and order some sort of roasting bird for the following day.

Finishing his onslaught of messages and dictations, Henry glanced at Kal who was stretched out on the kitchen floor watching him intently. The big dog yawned and rested his head on his paws. “I know bear, I know. Don't you worry, I'll save you some too.” He bent to scratch Kal behind the ears.

In the other room, Henry could hear the voices coming from the laptop. Your voice sounded more chipper than he'd heard in days. No doubt to the benefit of your family, not wanting them to worry or feel bad that you were on the other side of the ocean. Confident in his planning ability, Henry strode into the next room a deliriously happy smile on his own face as he greeted your parents.

Checking the time, Henry didn't want to appear rude, but he did have to sneak out to the shops before they closed. If he was going to give you a Thanksgiving. Kissing your cheek, he smiled fondly at the screen. Informing your parents that he had some errands to run, insisting that you keep talking when you asked if he wanted you to accompany him.

“Non sense, I can do this. I need to grab Kal some more food. You talk with your mum and dad. I won't be long, duck.” Another kiss on the cheek as he waves goodbye to your parents. Rising from his seat, preparing to head out in search of the perfect yam.

Whatever Henry was up to had kept him out longer than a typical run for some dog food. Sending him a text, he assured you that he would be back shortly not to worry. He wanted this to be a surprise, parading in with an arm load of groceries for a roast dinner would not be the easiest thing to hide or explain.

Giving up on Henry and whatever he was up to – no doubt after grabbing Kal's food, he went off to the gym. That would keep him out for at least a couple of hours. You opted to ready for bed, a little early, but perhaps a good night's sleep would refresh your feelings in the morning. Henry running off to whatever it was he was up to didn't help your homesick mood.

He knew that you were upset, the least he could have done was stay to comfort you. Whatever. You groan and step into the shower. Fuck it. No use in going to bed mad, when you are already this damn gloomy. Downstairs, you hear Kal whimper a few seconds after stepping into the warm stream of water. At least Henry would be home to snuggle a little before you went to sleep.

“Hey bear,” Henry greeted the dog, taking into account that you were nowhere to be seen. “Where is mum?” Listening he smiled at the sound of the shower. Perfect!

Secretly lugging groceries into the house, Henry was pleased with his accomplishments. He'd be up before you in the morning, naturally, which is when he would begin prepping the feast. Storing the last bit of his surprise, he made a cup of tea and headed upstairs.

Sitting the cup of tea on your night table, Henry waited for you to finish in the bathroom. A soft plume of steam escaping the door as you stepped out. Towel around you, ignoring his presence for the moment. A soft silence fell while you took time selecting your pyjamas. Henry sitting on the bed watching you quietly. Satisfied with the fuzzy blue pants and matching tshirt, you continue to ignore Henry walking back into the bathroom.

“Duck?” He calls after you, not wanting to push. He should have known that you'd be upset on his running out so abruptly.

“What?”

“When you're changed, I brought you some tea. Do you want to read for a bit? I can go let Kal out, then grab my book.”

“Sounds nice, Hen. I'll be here when you come up.” You call back, pulling your shirt over your head. A little annoyed but less homesick knowing that you will have Henry to keep you company.

Spending a home sick evening in bed cuddling with Henry and Kal, a cup of tea, while you and Henry fall into silence as you are each lost in the pages of your respective books isn't so bad. It's not your mother's homemade cranberry relish, but it is a pretty good way to end the day.

As predicted, Henry was awake about an hour before the sun thought to rise. Carefully slipping out of bed, making sure to tuck in the covers to keep you from growing cold he kisses your cheek and retreats downstairs. Kal hot on his heels. After a quick run around the small garden, the pair are back inside the kitchen. Henry staring at the turkey he had bought. He may have gone a little over board on the size. Surely you had a pan to fit.

Once the bird was crammed in the oven, as if by some strange magic the damn thing fit! He went to work on the next item, peeling potatoes. After that it was on to the yams and then the green beans. Henry was a confident cook, but making your grandmother's special green bean casserole was daunting. How bad could it be? He'd watched you make this at Christmas. Damn it, he should have insisted he helped you and not listened when you told him to go enjoy his brother's company.

Recipe on the counter top, he eyed Kal as if he would give some untapped wisdom. Kal yawned and licked his lips, his main concern was the bacon that would be topping the questionable squishy green strings.

“We can do this.” Henry tapped his fingers on his thigh. “We've got this.”

“Got what, Hen?” Your voice startled him. Flinching in surprise, Henry spun around to face you. “What are you doing?” Looking around the kitchen at the mess of vegetables, pots, pans, and...was that dough?

“I uh,” Henry rubbed the back of his neck, shrugging. “It was supposed to be a surprise. So, surprise! I am making you Thanksgiving dinner.”

“You're what?” Your brow furrows, pulling your dressing gown tighter around your body. “Henry, sweetheart.”

“I know that you're upset about not being able to go home. I know that it's a bit late, but...”

“Henry, Henry, Henry.” You coo shaking your head. Walking across the kitchen to where he stood, glancing at the recipe on the work top you giggle. “You're doing this for me?”

“I am,” He wraps his arm around you, drawing you close and kissing the top of your head. “Why don't you go relax, it will be a while and I will get your coffee.”

“Or,” You hug him tightly, “I can make the coffee, then we can do this together.”

“It's your surprise, though, duck.” Henry pouts and you kiss him sweetly.

“I know, but I want to help. Besides, Thanksgiving dinner is a huge undertaking. It requires at least two chefs and probably ten people to eat. Please, tell me we're having guests. I don't think we can eat an entire dinner this size.” You look at all the food he has laid around the kitchen.

“That part I have covered, my brother and his family will be here for four. As well as a few close friends. What do you say?”

“I say Happy Thanksgiving?” You giggle at the look of pride on Henry's face.