#I made her when I was FOURTEEN almost ten years ago

[thesunisatangerine]

against all odds (to wait for you is all i can do) – part seven

alexia putellas x photojournalist!reader

warnings: mentions of death/dying

(a/n in the tags) [parts: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve]

word count: 5k

A dull, stabbing pain throbbed in your right rib and you put a hand over it–you hoped to ease it somehow but it remained–as you replied, “I… I don’t know, Derek. I’m not sure if I’m ready for that.”

The movement didn’t go unnoticed from Derek’s watchful gaze, especially when he was sitting right there beside you on the couch, and his blue eyes shone with the familiar question, ‘Are you okay?’ You answered him silently with a reassuring raise of your brows and a wave of your hand. Seemingly placated for the time being, he put a hand on your shoulder and squeezed gently.

“There’s no pressure. I just thought I’d let you know before I pass it on over to Jersey and before I inform the client she’ll go in place of you. But if you’re interested in just going to watch, we can arrange that, too.” Derek paused, opened his mouth then closed it, and he looked a bit unsure about the words he wanted to say. 

Then he continued, “I… I think it will be good for you.”

The thought of returning back to the field, albeit for sporting coverage, still instilled anxiety in your stomach. Sure you had made enough progress in therapy to pick up a camera again without having a breakdown–you remembered crying out in relief when you did it for the first time after your last photojournalistic coverage–but covering the Olympics with tens of thousands of people present, one of them being Alexia? 

It was painfully obvious that that was something truly out of your depth. You just weren’t ready. 

But the thing was, would Alexia even care if she saw you there? You hadn’t spoken to or seen her in person in, what, fourteen months? What would she even say? What would you say? Considering that you were just a fling, you doubted that Alexia would even recognise you, much less care. The last time you were tempted to search up her name, you burnt yourself when you saw a candid photo of her and another woman. And the fact still stood that–and she said so herself, didn’t she?–you meant nothing to her. 

Another firm refusal was poised on the tip of your tongue when a round of giggles that erupted from the backyard, carefree and full of glee, captured your attention. Through the open sliding door of the living room you found your daughter with her Uncle Robert, head thrown back in a heartfelt laugh at whatever her uncle was telling her with his animated gestures. 

You smiled at the sight, chest immediately feeling full and warm. 

“For the both of you.” Derek added and when you looked back at him, you found his focus directed to where yours was only a moment ago. You regarded the scene again, fiddling with the string on your wrist as you mulled his words over. 

More than a year ago, you couldn’t even fathom imagining that you’d be able to behold a scene such as this. More than a year ago, you almost died–no, you did die–and the months that followed were nothing short of arduous, the first few weeks after you woke up even more so. It was as if the time between then and now existed on its own plane; you remembered it so vividly that sometimes when you sink into the darkest recesses of your mind, it almost felt like you were still there, and this–the now–was an illusion your lamenting mind had conjured to mollify yourself.

This almost felt too good to be real–too tranquil.

And as if awoken by the mere whisper of it, the memories pulled you away from reality and made a spectator out of you as you sank back into the most difficult time in your life. 

-

-

From nothingness came the noises, followed by sensations, gentle in their intrusion at first before they made their presence more pronounced, rousing you finally. 

There was a steady beeping and a gentle, mechanical hum coming from somewhere beside you and as the scope of your hearing widened, muffled footsteps and chattering registered not a moment later. Your mouth was parched but when you tried to swallow, a tightness in your throat prevented you from doing so and you groaned. Then you felt a dull ache along your right side, from the top of your shoulder, to your ribcage, and down to just by the side of your abdomen.

It took considerable effort to lift your eyelids but you managed. You found a grey ceiling to begin with but as your eyes fleeted through the room you were apparently in, you eventually found your mom asleep just beside your bed. She was curled in on herself, bent and tense, knees tucked close to her chin while her arm supported her head as a makeshift pillow against the chair’s arm. Even in her slumber, she didn’t look at peace: her brows were furrowed, the corners of her mouth tilted low, her lower eyelids looked red and raw, cheeks void of their usual carmine tint. From where you were, you could see the lines that had etched themselves on her face as if years had passed since you had last seen her. 

She flinched as if a rough hand had jolted her awake, her eyes weary as she opened them at first. The moment she caught your eye she froze–she didn’t even breathe–before her eyes lit up with tears. Then she was beside you, enveloping your head in her gentle cradle as her tears fell on you, searing against your cold cheeks.

In that moment, you didn’t realise how cold you were until you felt your mom’s tender warmth and the comfort it brought. Emotion bubbled in your throat and you sobbed around the apparatus in your mouth for your mom’s presence. So enraptured were you by her grace that you didn’t even realise that the both of you weren’t alone anymore until a nurse urged your mom to step aside so the doctor could check on you.

You’d been slipping in and out of consciousness for the past twelve hours after waking up from an eleven-day coma, the doctor told you in a gentle manner as she assessed you. Satisfied with what she saw, she turned to your mom and gave her a reassuring smile. She said that your state looked promising, that the likelihood of you slipping back into a coma was slim, but you should expect to sleep more deeply–for more than twelve hours a day–during the next week or so due to the damage in your right lung and your increased brain activity. True enough, just the brief interaction and exposure to the stimulants had taken a decent chunk of your energy, and you were beginning to feel exhausted already. 

The doctor and nurse left shortly after that and your mom stuck by your side. She clung to your hand, her fear that you would disappear if she even let go for a second as apparent as the tears in her eyes. Her grip was crushing you but even if you could tell her, you didn’t have the heart to do it because you saw how much she needed the closeness, the physical contact, how much it brought her relief so you let it be. And if you were being honest, the slight pain grounded you to her presence–to be present in that very moment.

The door of your ward opened again, the movement catching your attention, and in came your brother. His cheeks were red and he was heaving his breaths through his open mouth, blue eyes wide and shining with unshed tears. As his gaze found yours, his mouth closed in a tight line but not before a sob left his lips, chin shaking and brows furrowing which made the tears in his eyes to finally fall. He nearly tripped over his own feet in his haste to get to your side, his arms immediately around your head as he sobbed out apology after apology against your temple. 

Tears welled in your eyes and you longed to grab his face, to put your palms over his ears, and tell him that he had nothing to apologise for. Your heart broke and when you felt the warmth of your mom’s arms around the both of you and felt her own tears against your cheek again, a gravity pressed against your chest as the realisation of what nearly happened finally sank in. 

You wept then as it hit you, sobbing into the arms of the people you cared most about in the world. 

You cried in relief. 

You cried in grief.

And you cried because you were alive to do it.

The next time you woke, a nurse stopped by to take out the ventilator tube from your airway and replaced it with a nasal cannula for your oxygen support. She said that depending on the rate at which your right lung would recuperate, you needed to be on oxygen support for six to eight more weeks.

Your throat felt raw from the extraction but the relief that came from it was very much welcome. You’d been itching to ask your family about what you missed and what exactly happened. There was an empty space in your memory where memories as to how you ended up in the hospital should be–at that point you couldn’t recall anything about the child, the gunfire that wounded you, the dreams; your mind was completely out of the loop. 

And you did just that. 

In response, your mom pursed her lips in a thin line, stern and stubborn as mothers often were when they got protective of their children, before she shook her head firmly. 

“You heard the doctor, hon. You need to rest for now.” 

You tried a couple more times that day, even with Derek, to gain some insight  but your family remained resolute in preventing you from being stressed out. They reminded you that you had plenty of time to put the pieces together. 

Then familiar faces jumped in your mind and the guilt blazed in you, unforgiving. How could you have forgotten about them?

“Derek. Where’s Jones and Gilda?” Tremors made the rawness of your voice all the more apparent, and you stared at you brother in apprehension. The monitor began to beep as it detected your accelerated heartbeat, and your mom was automatically beside you to hold your hand, brushing the hair on your crown to soothe you.

“They’re fine, sis. Breathe.” Derek replied quickly, patting your covered foot over the blanket. “Gilda fractured her wrist and Jones is actually on standby.” 

You sighed, tension immediately leaving your body at the information. You nodded your thanks to your brother for at least putting your mind at ease by telling you that. 

“That’s enough for today.” Your mom said sternly before she pointed at you. “You. Rest. Now. And you, zip it.”

Derek put his hands up, pulling his brows up and the corners of his mouth down in an exaggerated manner, and at that, you laughed. 

Despite your growing impatience over the days that followed, bits and pieces of your memory finally returned to you but not without some help. On one occasion your mom, albeit with a tightness in her voice as if the mere act of speaking about it brought her terrible pain, finally told you what happened after you lost consciousness. 

She recounted what she’d been told by the first doctor that took care of you: how a returning convoy with a paramedic onboard heard the gunshots and managed to get to you on time. Any longer and they wouldn’t have been able to–she stopped to wipe her tears and tried to find her voice again–they wouldn’t have been able to resuscitate you when your heart stopped on the way back to camp. Your right lung had collapsed from the penetrating wound in your chest and, along with the ones in your right abdomen and shoulder, you’d lost a lot of blood already that by the time you were put under surgery, you slipped away again. This time, you very nearly succumbed to your wounds for good, and it was a miracle you came back–that the surgeon said you were lucky to have lived. 

Derek put a comforting arm around your mom as she put her face in her hands, breaking down again. You ached to do the same but weakness still occupied all parts of your body so the only thing you could do was offer your words.

“It’s okay, Mom. I’m still here. I’m not going anywhere.”

She straightened her back and wiped her tears away, seeming to have calmed down now but Derek continued to rub her back with a soothing hand and continued where she left off.

They found your press ID badge and contacted the photojournalism firm you were under. After receiving the news, Derek told your mom who–even though Derek told her to wait so he could go with her–flew herself out on the first plane there. He flew himself the next day after he sorted things out around the firm. 

“If you’re here, who did you leave in charge?” 

“Robert. Don’t worry, he’s fine. I may or may not have told him I’d break up with him if he messed up.”

Your mom gasped at that, scandalised, smacking Derek’s shoulder. “Derek!”

“What? I’m just joking!” Derek asked looking very much like a reprimanded child with his eyes wide in disbelief at being told off. You let out a small laugh, shaking your head at your brother’s antics but you knew that your future brother-in-law was very much capable of keeping the firm afloat. 

“Poor Robert. You’re a menace, you know that right?” 

“He knows it, sis, why do you think he’s with me?” He wagged his brows and you grimaced at the innuendo–the last thing you’d like to think about was your brother’s sex life.  “Anyway, after I landed, Mom and I decided that we should move you to a different hospital. Farther away from the conflict zone. So we took your belongings there and now you’re here. Which reminds me, we have your rolls of film and camera at the hotel.”

At the mention of your camera, images flooded in: the explosions, the guns, the massacre, the blood… and the child. The child! Where was she now? Was she okay? What happened–

“What? What is it?” The sound of Derek’s voice, thick with apprehension, disrupted your thoughts.

“The little girl. I was with a little girl when I got shot. Derek, where is she?” The words gushed out of your mouth. 

“I–I don’t know. They didn’t tell me anything about–”

“Derek, please. You have to find her. She’s probably still in the other hospital. I–Derek, I need to know if she’s alright. Please, Derek–” Tremors wracked through your body and your breathing deepened, quickened, every fiber of muscle rigid with tension as the gruesome scenes from that day played like a movie in your mind–the shadows and all the blood and… the beacon of hope–the future–that shone bright in those young eyes. 

“Honey, listen to me. Breathe. Breathe.” You felt your mom’s warm hand brushing over your forehead before the sounds and the blurry figures in front of you registered in your mind. There was an incessant beeeping noise coming from the monitor and you didn’t realise a nurse had come in to help calm you down as Derek stood by the foot of the bed with his arms crossed, a hand over his mouth as he watched on with glassy eyes.

After the nurse had left and you’d finally calmed down, Derek sat by your side and took your hand in a gentle grip. 

“Okay. I’ll do the best I can.”

You blinked slowly in gratitude and allowed yourself to drift off to another dreamless sleep.

“I think I found her.” Derek’s voice filtered through the room as he entered. You tensed and the instinct to sit up was only dampened by the weakness of your muscles, and the straps and tubes wrapped around you. 

“Where? Where is she?”

“The paramedic who was there that day remembered you so he also recognised who I was looking for, thankfully. She’s still in the same hospital but she’s about to be discharged in a few days because they’re running out of space.” Derek began as he sat by the otherwise unoccupied chair beside you since your mom went back to the hotel to get some rest–you insisted for her to go. “Is this her?”

He pulled out his phone, swiped and tapped for a moment, before he held it out so you could see the screen. There, you found a familiar face and it was like a weight had been lifted from your shoulders to know that the little girl was alive. She looked thinner than how you recalled but the light in those eyes remained.

“What’s her name, do you know? Has she found her family?” 

“Her name is Elisa. And from what I’ve gathered so far, no.”

Your heart ached as another image came to you, this time it was of the unconscious woman next to Elisa when you found her. What was their relation to each other? Were they family? Her sister? Her mother?

You chewed on your lower lip. “Is… is it possible to transfer her to this hospital? Only if she feels comfortable, of course.” 

“Already on it. And I’ve already started asking around for information about her family.” 

“Thank you, Derek.”

“What?”

You stared, not believing the words that just left your brother’s mouth. 

It was a few days after Elisa was moved to the hospital you were in that Derek brought you the news. He was hunched over himself in the chair beside you like a weight was pressed against his shoulders, head in his hands, shaking his head as if he, too, couldn’t believe the words he just told you. 

“They’re dead. All of them.”

And the universe screamed in harmony with the dead’s unheard agony.

During the weeks that followed, your schedule was routine; prosaic.

You were bedridden and sleeping for the most part of your recovery, mainly due to the delicate nature of your injury. You were told it was normal to feel fatigued most of the time and to feel the occasional chest pains but those should go away after enough time had passed. The lightheadedness and breathlessness, though, were a different matter: the damage was irreversible, your breathing now impaired for life, and the risk of experiencing a spontaneous collapsed lung event would forever be with you. 

Your schedule was routine and so with that much time in your hand, you began to write.

Elisa’s therapy was going well, you heard from one of the nurses–as well as it could get for someone who had suffered the loss she had at the tender age of eleven. Physically, she was doing so much better. She’d put on a little weight after being transferred and after a few weeks since her initial arrival, she started visiting you and began hanging out at your ward. 

During this time, the Women’s World Cup just began and you noticed the way Elisa straightened as she sat cross-legged at the foot of your bed, eyes raptly glued on the mounted TV in your room, animated and dynamic in expressing what she felt as the match unfolded before her. That was the exact moment you knew that Elisa loved football with a passion. 

And so a sort of ritual was established, changing your routine and, once again, brought Alexia back into your life as you kept up with Spain’s matches, Elisa’s favorite team. Despite that fact however, you were grateful that Elisa could find reprieve in watching football even for ninety minutes from the ongoing turmoil and her grief. 

 It was Spain against the Netherlands when you asked Elisa a question. She was curled up beside you, eyes peeking through the blanket she’d wrapped around herself while your mom dozed off in the chair, brows pulled tight in concentration as she scanned over the players on screen. Maybe it was one of the universe’s cruel tricks or maybe it was a sign, but her answer caught you off guard and you wondered how a single name could have this much effect on you; how a name could disarm you completely. 

“Who’s your favorite player?”

Without any hesitation and without even taking her eyes off the screen, Elisa replied with enthusiasm, “Alexia Putellas.”

As you watched Spain’s match against Japan with only Derek for company–Elisa had pouted when she found out she couldn’t watch the match live as she needed to go to a therapy session during that time–your brother suddenly exclaimed and pointed at the TV. The noise and the movement startled you, the monitor beeped loudly in response to the spike in your heartbeat.

Derek looked at you abashed, scratching the back of his head as he apologised. “Sorry. But it’s her!”

You looked at the person who he was pointing to: Alexia. You schooled your features and tried to maintain an even tone when you replied. “What about her?”

“She contacted us multiple times asking about you and your work a few days after you left to be here.” 

At his words, you heart quickened and the monitor responded to the rise in the rhythm of your heart accordingly. Derek’s eyes flicked from you, to the monitor, to the TV where Alexia was still being filmed, and then back to you. 

You cleared your throat, cheeks warm which you hoped your brother wouldn’t take notice of. “And what did you say?”

“That you were unavailable, of course.”

A pause.

“Wait, did you two–”

“No.” The sharpness in your voice nearly made you flinch as your firm gaze bored directly into the blue ones of your brother’s, hoping that he would get the message to drop the subject. Derek opened his mouth but closed it almost immediately. Then he sighed, turning his attention back to the game.

It wasn’t until several minites later that Derek spoke again.

“I have a feeling she’s the reason why you left Barcelona early. But I’m not going to ask. I just want you to know that I’m here when you’re ready to talk about it, sis.”

That night, what Derek told you kept you awake. Did Alexia really asked for you–was she missing you? Ever since you left Barcelona, not once did you let yourself give into the temptation but this new knowledge cut the last thread of your will. So you searched up her name but what you saw made you wish you hadn’t.

A photo of Alexia with another woman: Alexia with her sunglasses on, a black leather jacket over her bralette, and high waisted pants; an arm around the other woman’s shoulder who had her lips on Alexia’s neck and had a possessive hand over Alexia’s jaw.  It was recent, you noticed, the article the candid photo belonged to. 

You dropped the phone as your hand shook, and you stared up the ceiling. The lights from the passing cars and the nightlife outside created dancing shadows through the gap in the curtain. Closing you eyes, you felt a tear fall dawn and you stuttered out a breath as you reminded yourself.

She wasn’t yours.

She never was.

Yet still… you ached. 

It wasn’t until the next morning did the dreams–the ones of your family, of your deceased parents, of Alexia–finally returned to you in vivid clarity. And the pain from the night before returned to you twofold. 

Before you knew it, the Women’s World Cup ended with Spain emerging triumphant in the end as they blazed their way through the tournament. In spite of yourself, pride bloomed in your chest at the result knowing how hard these women fought–endured and resisted–in this competition and the fact that they did so while resisting their federation made their accomplishment all the more admirable.

An image of Alexia, weary and exhausted, materialised in your mind. 

You remembered the way she dragged her feet as she entered the door, eyes downcast and hair ruffled, shoulders hunched forward. When she found you standing in the archway, she clung to you without a word and you felt the gravity on her shoulders, the pressure of being who she was–of being La Reina–settled against your bones. That night, the both of you ended up sleeping on the couch, Alexia’s head against your chest, your fingers threading through her hair to soothe her even just for a moment. 

“You’re so strong, Alexia,” you’d whispered, kissing the top of her head. “You’ve carried so much for so long that sometimes it’s easy to forget that you have people on your side in this fight. You’re never alone, Alexia. Please don’t ever forget that.”

And as you watched her with her people on that stage lifting the trophy, the urge to whisper the same words returned to you. Even though you couldn’t, in your mind you did. 

In your mind, the words echoed: I’m so proud of you.

Upon your insistence and with a lot of reassurance, Derek reluctantly agreed to leave you to return back to the firm. You promised you would video call with him every night to appease him so now, you were left with your mom and Elisa’s company to keep. But after being bedridden for nearing two and a half months, finally, you were excited to be moving around even if you were aided with a wheelchair. 

When you began your physiotherapy, you couldn’t walk for no longer than fifteen minutes before you felt lightheaded. But as the weeks passed on and as you pushed yourself a bit more each day, little by little, you built up your tolerance. The next thing you knew, you didn’t have to be put in a wheelchair anymore, a small triumph but a triumph nonetheless.

The moment the doctor medically discharged you was one of the best moments of your life. But instead of going back home with your mom, you stayed behind as you needed to sort out one important thing.

Throughout your recovery, Elisa had been one of the constant in your life. The moment you knew she had no family left, your heart instantly knew what you had to do and the idea of adoption took root in your mind. You sorted out the paperworks, carefully explained to Elisa what you planned to do–that you wanted to be her legal guardian, sister, aunt, or mother; whatever Elisa wished for you to be–and gave her time to decide herself if she wanted to go through with it. 

As you waited for the paperworks and for Elisa’s consent, you supported Elisa through her therapy sessions all the while you busied yourself with being immersed in as much of Elisa’s language and culture as you could out of respect for her family. Elisa was patient with you during the times you couldn’t quite accomodate the phonetics of her language, speaking slowly and enunciating the words multiple times until you got it.

A few months later, you walked through the airport with two passports, Elisa’s hand in yours, heading towards home. The road was not without difficulties, of course, and it took a long time but the fact that you were there was enough.

Even though the conflict abated just before your departure, the tension was very much alive and the cost forever unjustifiable; senseless, a transgression against those that paid for it: the dead and the ever-hungry living. For Elisa, months of therapy had helped–the first time you heard her laugh was truly one of the best moments of your life–but you knew that the wound would never truly heal, the cut too deep that even the sands of time would do little to fill it completely. 

But as you looked into Elisa’s wide eyes, hope filled you as you saw it: that eternal flame that burnt in every person, passed to each other as one life touched another, a bright beacon in what seemed to be a never-ending night made from humanity’s long shadow. 

A guiding light to a better future.

As the plane took to the early morning sky, as the sun peeked through the clouds to paint everything in its soft, golden glow, you made a promise. For as long as you live–for as long as Elisa would let you–you would do everything to preserve that light. 

-

-

“And I don’t know exactly what happened between the two of you, but she still asks for you, you know? Sure, it’s through her agent or through her club’s PR department but it’s still her.”

Derek’s voice pulled you back from your memories. 

Again, you fiddled with the string on your wrist. The more you thought about it, the more your reluctance grew. But when you looked at Elisa with her Barcelona kit, the number eleven and Alexia’s name bold and proud on her back, seamlessly stepping over the ball as her Uncle Robert tried to defend against her before she performed a rainbow flick that had the ball soaring past her defender, you knew then what your decision was going to be. 

It would be good for her. 

Your daughter’s love for football was there before you even met her, and it shook you to your core when you learnt that Alexia was her inspiration. She’d told you she loved football enough to pursue a career in it, a dream that was both hers and her parents–her remaining connection to them–a dream that you would do everything to preserve as long as your daughter wanted to chase it.

“Okay. I’ll do it.” You told Derek as you kept your attention glued to your daughter.

As if sensing your eye, your daughter looked over her shoulder to you, the light of the sinking sun made gold from her hair, and you watched her smile at you, dimples and all. 

You smiled back. 

Yes, that’s right. 

After all, you did make a promise, didn’t you?

[elliesbelle]

nobody compares to you

chapter 9

pairing: ellie x reader

synopsis: you're in your junior year of college and at a party, you run into the girl who broke your heart: ellie williams. despite the time it took to reset your life, will you risk a broken heart again for her?

content warnings: modern college au, cursing, angst, descriptions of and allusions to physical altercations and violence, descriptions of alcohol, dealer!ellie, more loser!ellie, mentions of smoking and marijuana, ellie's POV, minors do not interact

word count: 3.7k

chapters: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen

series masterlist

my masterlist

i have a ko-if if you like my work so much that you feel compelled to tip me ♡︎

the "nobody compares to you" spotify playlist

featuring the song “it might be you” by stephen bishop:

Four Days Ago

“Ellie, what the fuck! Oh, shit!”

“The fuck! Th-the fuck…is your problem!”

“Shit! Ellie!”

“Chang, get…this–fuck!–cunt…off of me!”

“El–ow! Ellie!”

“I heard what you fucking said to my girl!”

“What are–shit…motherfucker!”

“Ellie, stop!”

“You..fucking…cunt!”

“Yo, bro, get the fuck off of her!”

“Is that…all…you…can do?!”

“Alright, fuck! Enough! Stop!”

Two Days Ago

Ellie had been walking around campus with her hood over her head and eyes to the ground all day. She’d been ignoring calls & texts from her friends and clients and, to her growing annoyance, Daniela. She’d attended all her classes, but she’d sit as far back as possible and avoid any interactions or eye contact. During her breaks, she’d find some remote spot behind a building or in a secluded stairwell to smoke in private.

It was late afternoon now and Ellie’d just dashed out of her last class of the day. She didn’t want to go home to her apartment where she’d get ambushed by Jesse and, most likely as well, Dina. But she had nowhere else to loiter where she’d be able to sulk and smoke in peace, and her phone was also dying.

The walk to her and Jesse’s apartment was barely ten minutes from campus, but Ellie made sure to stretch it out to almost twenty. She walked four flights of stairs instead of taking the elevator like she usually would. She couldn’t even hear the jingling of her keys over the deafening sounds of Kendrick Lamar blasting in her earphones as she unlocked the front door.

The previous evening felt completely surreal. Ellie would have assumed it was just some rage-induced nightmare if it weren’t for the throbbing pain in her black eye and bruised right hand. After Jesse was able to pry Frat Guy Adam off of her before he could do any real damage and hastily convince him that she was probably tripping off of this strong new strain she got, Ellie immediately shut herself in her bedroom for the rest of the night. The only thing Jesse could get out of her before she disappeared behind her door was, “I seriously can’t fucking believe she’s letting her fuck her again.”

As Ellie crossed the doorway of the apartment, the second verse of “HUMBLE.” was abruptly yanked out of her ears by Dina’s quick fingers.

“Jesus fuck—Dina!” Ellie fussed, irritated as she attempted to grab her earphones back.

Dina said nothing as she balled them up and shoved them into her back pocket.

“How the fuck did you even know I was coming?” Ellie grumbled, knowing full well that she, Dina, and Jesse all indefinitely shared their respective locations with each other on their phones.

“Let’s talk, El.” Dina merely sighed.

Ellie scoffed in response and held out her hand.

“Can I have my earphones back?” She asked.

“No.”

“Seriously?”

“Ellie, we need to talk!”

Ellie didn’t reply as she stomped off towards her bedroom. She was about to slam the door in Dina’s face when she was met with Jesse’s back turned to her with sandpaper in one hand and a paint scraper in the other.

“Uhh, what the fuck, dude?” Ellie asked, dropping her backpack on top of her desk.

“I knew you’d leave your knife in here for the next two months or so if I didn’t do anything about it.” Jesse replied, sanding down the area where the knife once was lodged into the wall.

Dina leaned against the doorway with her arms crossed over her chest.

“Told him that you were too attached to that thing to not yank it out yourself, but he insisted on doing it and cleaning up your mess. As per usual.” Dina said, motioning to the small bucket of white plaster by Jesse’s feet.

“Yeah, I’m not cleaning all that up, though.” Jesse said, gesturing to all the dust now covering a portion of the bedroom floor.

Ellie shrugged off her hoodie and hung it on the back of a chair. She spotted her now-unstuck switchblade on top of some books on her desk and quickly pocketed it.

“Okay, well, can you guys maybe get out of my room now?” Ellie huffed, collapsing lazily onto her bed before grabbing a comic book on her bedside table that she had previously been reading the night before.

“We can,” Dina replied. “But we’re not going to.”

Ellie rolled her eyes and flipped a page.

Jesse and Dina shared a collective look and a heavy sigh.

“Dude, we gotta talk about yesterday.” Jesse insisted. “You seriously can’t keep ignoring this.”

“What the fuck even happened, really?” Dina asked.

“What, this one didn’t tell you?” Ellie replied, nodding towards Jesse’s direction without looking up from her comic book.

“All he told me is that you got your shit rocked by some frat guy trying to buy from you.”

“Hey!” Ellie said, sitting up and throwing her hands up in the air in indignation. “I fucked him up!”

“Then why do you have a black eye?” Dina questioned.

Ellie grumbled something unintelligible and sat back down to return to reading. Dina rolled her eyes.

“All I did was introduce him to her and she just suddenly wailed on him.” Jesse explained to Dina.

“I already knew who the fuck he was.” Ellie said behind her comic book.

“Oh shit, yeah,” Jesse recalled. “She did say she remembered him, and then she went nuts.”

“Who was this again?” Dina asked, eyebrows furrowing.

“Adam Patterson from Sigma Eta.” Jesse replied.

“Yeah, I have no idea who that is.” Dina admitted.

“He came with our group to the diner the other night after the party,” Jesse said at the same time that Ellie said, “He was at Sterling’s with us.”

Dina’s knitted eyebrows straightened out in recognition.

“Oh, wait, was he that douchebag that sat next to—”

“Yes.” Ellie interrupted angrily.

Jesse and Dina immediately shared a look.

“Does this have anything to do with Abby Anderson?” Dina asked Ellie.

“Wait, what about Anderson?” Jesse questioned, eyebrows furrowing.

“You didn’t tell him?”

“Tell me wh—“ Jesse started but was cut off when his phone started buzzing furiously.

He took out his phone from his back pocket and frowned.

“Ah shit,” He muttered. “I gotta help Sidney set up with the open mic.”

“Now?” Dina asked.

“It’s every other Tuesday and I promised her.” Jesse shrugged.

He walked over to Dina to give her a quick peck on the lips before turning towards Ellie, pointing at her sharply.

“When I get back, I want to hear why the hell you’ve lost your goddamn mind.” He demanded of her before leaving the room. A few seconds passed before they heard the front door close behind him.

Dina sighed, uncrossed her arms, and strolled over to sit at the foot of Ellie’s bed. She unconcernedly shoved Ellie’s dirty Converse to the side, earning her a kick from Ellie which she easily dodged.

“Can you stop assaulting every single person you come across, Williams?” Dina said after slapping the foot that tried to punt her.

“Can you get out of my room?” Ellie asked, ignoring her question.

“Did you really try to beat the shit out of that Adam guy ‘cause of—“

“Why are we still talking about this?” Ellie immediately interjected.

“Because you’re out here attacking innocent people because of her!”

Ellie remained quiet as she sat up straight and placed her comic book back on her nightstand before replying.

“He called her a fucking queer, D.”

Dina blinked and stared at her.

“He did what?”

“When we were at Sterling’s the other night.”

“Oh, shit.” Dina whispered. “Okay, well, maybe not so innocent then.”

“No, he’s fucking not.” Ellie seethed, fists clenching.

“Okay, but it’s not really helping anyone if you get kicked out of school ‘cause you’re out here beating the shit out of some grade-A douchebag who most definitely deserved it,” Dina added, seeing that Ellie was about to interrupt. “Are you really that pissed off that she’s seeing Abby Anderson?”

“She can see whoever the fuck she wants. It’s really none of my business.” Ellie replied stubbornly.

“Ellie, c’mon, when are you going to face your fucking feelings for her for once?” Dina said. “You couldn’t man the fuck up when you were together, and now you don’t even speak to each other and you still won’t admit it.”

“Sorry that I’m too emotionally constipated for you.”

Dina rolled her eyes but then suddenly giggled.

“What?” Ellie asked.

“That’s probably the first time that you haven’t corrected me on the fact that you were together.”

Ellie kicked her softly.

“Oh, shut up.” Ellie retorted.

Yesterday

“You need to wrap that shit up better, El.” Dina said, gesturing to Ellie’s poorly bandaged right hand.

The sun was beginning to set, and Dina and Ellie’s shadows glided alongside each other on the brick pathway. Pink rays of light peeking from the sky hit Ellie’s freckles so beautifully that it almost distracted from her bruised eye.

“What? It’s fine.” Ellie shrugged.

“The wraps are already coming off, dumbass.” Dina noted.

“My bad, I’m not studying to be a doctor, unlike some people.” Ellie said, quickly murmuring the last part.

Dina merely rolled her eyes at this, refusing to engage further in Ellie’s growing vendetta against Abby Anderson.

They walked for about another ten minutes to reach the diner, chatting nonsensically about their classes and friends and some new asshole clients that Ellie had recently acquired.

Ellie had Dina laughing about her secretly charging some senior jock douchebags twice as much as usual for shamelessly hitting on her when they walked through the doors of Sterling’s. Ellie suddenly felt a strange ache in her stomach as they entered the restaurant. When she felt wary eyes on her, her discomfort was immediately explained.

Her gaze unintentionally met yours, her ocean green eyes widening in shock. The expression on your face mirrored her thoughts as her freckles turned bright pink. You both turned to your friends simultaneously in panic.

“Dina, what the fuck!” Ellie hissed.

“What?” Dina said, not realizing the situation they’d walked into.

“Did you do this shit on purpose?” Ellie demanded of her.

“What the hell are you going on about?” Dina asked, still clueless as she was busy looking around for the diner’s hostess.

“Can you please use your eyes for one second?”

“Wh—” Dina began but stopped suddenly when she saw what had caught Ellie’s rapt attention.

“Goddamn it,” Dina muttered. “Alright, hang on.”

Ellie watched as Dina marched over to the small table where you and Jesse were having dinner. Her eyes fell on you once more, remembering the last time she saw you with Abby Anderson. She suddenly felt a pang of guilt wash over her when she thought about the last conversation you’d had in the bathroom of this same diner, her eyes tearing away from your figure to stare at her old Converse.

God, I’m such a fucking dickhead.

She teetered back and forth on her feet as she felt shame seeping through her bones. She didn’t look back up until the diner’s hostess approached her.

“Hi, how many in your party?” She asked.

“Oh, uh, no. I’m here for pick-up?” Ellie replied.

“Oh gotcha, what’s the name?”

“It should be under Dina Woodward.”

“Okay! One second, ma’am.”

Ellie watched as the hostess headed to the back as Dina made her way back towards her.

“What the hell, D?” Ellie hissed.

“Seriously, I didn’t know!” Dina replied, throwing her hands up defensively.

“This isn’t funny!”

“El, I swear to god, I really had no idea they were gonna be meeting here.”

“You didn’t tell me that Jesse was hanging out with her tonight!”

“That didn’t seem like information relevant to you.” Dina said, crossing her arms.

“How is it not—”

“She’s not your fucking girlfriend, Ellie.” Dina pointed out.

Ellie looked taken aback as the hostess reappeared before them.

“Order for Dina Woodward?” She said, holding out a plastic bag.

“Yes?” Dina replied, but before she could reach for the food, Ellie had already grabbed it with her left hand and angrily shoved the entrance door open with her right.

She stomped away from the diner several feet away before Dina could catch up to her, far away enough for Dina not to catch the tears that she struggled to keep from falling.

Present Day

Ellie lays on her sheets, head at the foot of her bed and dinosaur sock-covered feet propped up on one of her pillows. She was senselessly and poorly strumming on her guitar. It was Friday evening and she was bored and all alone in the apartment, Jesse and Dina having gone out together on a movie date. She had contemplated going to the gym as she usually did whenever she was in a mood, but Dina had reprimanded her about her injured state enough that Ellie relented on spending a lonely night in. She strums lousily on the guitar with her injured hand, ignoring the throbbing of her wounded knuckles.

She’d finally texted Daniela back earlier that day, apologizing spiritlessly for not replying back sooner. She humoured Daniela’s flirty texts for a while until Ellie asked for Joel’s old jacket back, to which Daniela offered to come over to her apartment tonight to return. Feeling her intent, Ellie put her off by saying she had plans to meet up with several new clients all night and offered to meet up with her the next day instead. Ellie’d groaned when Daniela quickly responded with a text saying “it’s a date ;)” and immediately regretted the situation she’d pulled herself into.

Her fingers begin mindlessly plucking a succession of concordant chords, and it isn’t until a few moments later that she realizes she’d started to play an old love song that she remembers you’d liked so much.

It was an old 80s song called “It Might Be You” by Stephen Bishop. She’d often hear you thoughtlessly humming it to yourself or singing along to it when you’d put on your nearly ten-hour 80s playlist. She’d subsequently learned how to play it on the guitar to possibly serenade you with it eventually, only to never have the courage to do so when you were together.

Ellie exhales woefully, setting her guitar down next to her.

Why is she still everywhere?

She sits up to properly lay herself on her bed, flopping her head down onto her pillow before reaching for her phone that was charging on her nightstand.

Time to be a loser as usual again, Williams.

She sighs pathetically as she opens up Instagram once more, switching from her main account back over to br!ck_master2013. Even though Instagram already showed her recent searches (consisting only of you), she feels a pathetic sense of fulfillment typing out your entire username herself. Ellie taps on that same mirror selfie of yours which leads her to your profile.

You still have no new posts from the last time she checked, but she sees that you’d added something to your story sometime within the past day. She ignores the uneasiness in her stomach as she taps on the orange and purple circle to view what you’d posted.

You’d shared a few mutual aid posts earlier this morning (to which Ellie promptly saves to later donate to after her slight stalking), a picture that some of your old high school friends had posted of an up-and-coming band they were currently in, and a couple of new stories that causes Ellie to abruptly shoot up from her bed and promptly unplugging her phone from the wall.

“What the fuck?” She mutters out loud to herself, not in reference to the unceremonious way she stopped charging her phone, but to the Instagram stories that you were posting in real time.

Ellie taps furiously as she realizes that you were out tonight at the lesbian bar by campus, the Bow and Arrow. With Abby Anderson.

She makes a wild guess that you were likely drunk at the moment, judging by the silliness of your story captions. Your first bar-related story is a selfie you’d taken of yourself with the caption, “me going out to a bar to get smacked instead of being an old lady at home? quick, someone call the pope.” Despite the low lights of your environment, Ellie recognizes the shade of dark red lipstick you’re wearing.

That’s the lipstick she was wearing when—

Her thoughts are interrupted by her app automatically jumping to the next story, which was of you toasting your half-empty plastic cup with others that were being held up by faceless hands with the caption, “liquor, i hardly know her.” Ellie couldn’t help but chuckle out loud at your stupid joke. She would have bet her Jeep, her whole stash of weed, her beloved switchblade, and her entire precious comic book collection that the drink you had in your hand was a vodka cranberry.

Your next Instagram story drops a cast steel anvil down Ellie’s stomach.

It was a shaky picture of Abby Anderson making a mockingly pouty face towards the camera, holding out a credit card in one of her hands. It looked as if she and you were sitting at the bar, waiting to be served by a bartender. Your caption read, “hey siri, how do you beat up a buff, jacked lesbian who lives at the gym and won’t stop paying for your drinks all night.”

Ellie notices that you’d tagged Abby’s Instagram handle on the side and she promptly taps on it with trembling fingers. She huffs at her phone when she’s brought to Abby’s profile and sees that it’s set to private. She falls back onto her pillow and sighs.

“Ellie!!” You yelled after her as she stomped out of the Bow and Arrow.

She said nothing as she exited the bar and veered left into an empty backstreet lit only by the moonlight and a dim streetlamp.

Ellie walked further into the alleyway until she was a safe distance from any passersby. She took out a metal tin from one of her jacket’s front pockets and pulled out a tightly-wrapped joint. She tucked it between her teeth as she reached into a front pocket in her jeans for a lighter, promptly lighting the tip of the joint. She inhaled for a few seconds, letting the drug seep throughout her enraged body, then released an exhale towards the starry night sky.

She heard the agitated clicking of high heels and glanced down towards the main street to inspect whoever was approaching her. You were rubbing your hands up and down your arms, your favourite black boots nearly skipping down the alleyway to desperately generate heat in the frigid, unforgiving December air. You followed the familiar scent of lavender-laced marijuana into the dark street, spotting Ellie smoking alone.

Ellie watched as your shivering figure walked towards her, your despondent eyes eventually reaching her furious green ones.

“Smoking one of my js without me?” You teased.

“Your js?” Ellie asked, chuckling despite herself.

“Well, it’s my recipe.” You said, yanking the joint from her fingertips to place it between your lips which were painted with a dark shade of red.

“Oh, please, all you do is add buds of crushed lavender into them.” Ellie scoffed as the tip of the joint lit up once more from you taking a hit of it.

“Lavender buds are a key ingredient to creating these primo joints. It’s an intricate part of the process; ergo it is a recipe.” You insisted after blowing the residual smoke to the side.

“Besides,” You added. “You talk a whole lot of smack for someone who seems to copy my recipe all the time now, both for her clients and for herself.”

Ellie would have usually bantered with a witty retort, but she instead settled for an indignant huff.

After a few more hits, you handed the joint back to her.

“You done?” She asked you.

“Mhmm.”

She nodded, putting out the joint on the wall she was leaning against and placing what was left of it back in her metal tin. You stared at her as she did this, noticing that she was purposely refusing to make eye contact with you.

“Els.” You said.

“Mm?”

“Show me your hand.” You sigh.

“No.”

“El, babe, come on.” You insisted.

She exhaled and relented when her cheeks blushed at the term of endearment, holding out her right hand to you.

You took it in between both of yours, attempting to examine it under the dull yellowish light of the streetlamp. Your fingertips softly brush against her knuckles.

“Okay, not so bruised thankfully.” You murmured. “Does it hurt?”

Ellie merely shrugged in response.

“Els…” You whined at her stubbornness.

“I’m fine.”

You stared at her serious expression, still unable to get her to look at you.

“You dummy.” You chuckled lightly.

Ellie huffed.

You stroked her hand a couple more times before lightly placing a kiss on her slightly injured knuckles.

Despite the frigid winter air, Ellie immediately felt every part of her go up in flames. The only chilly part of her body was her hand which you’d brushed your cold lips against just moments before.

“Here,” She said, pulling her hand away from you so she could shrug off Joel’s old motorcycle jacket from her shoulders and place it on yours. “Baby, you’re fucking freezing.”

“El—”

“You’re freezing.” She repeated.

You smiled slightly before caving in to say, “Maybe a little bit.” Ellie chuckled.

“Elliie…” You began. “You didn’t have to do all that—”

“I know.”

“But—”

“I know.”

You tried to decipher her unreadable expression, your heart ready to burst as it beat rapidly in your chest.

“Why, Ellie? Why’d you have to take it to that extreme?”

Ellie’s ocean-green eyes were fierce and resolved. She brings her mildly bruised hand up to your face to intimately caress your cheek.

“You know why.” She whispers, finally meeting your gaze.

“I—”

The memory of staring into your eyes causes Ellie’s own to shoot open.

She’s still in her room, laying on her bed all alone with her phone on her chest and guitar on her side. The images of you in the alleyway of the Bow and Arrow replay alongside those of you and Abby so boldly displayed on your Instagram story tonight.

Ellie remains so engrossed in her own thoughts that she doesn’t notice all the hot tears rapidly streaming down her face. She grips her sheets and sighs.

“Baby, I’m so sorry.” She whispers to no one.

Maybe she’ll forgive me one day.

author’s notes:

so sorry for taking so long to write this! life has been hectic and messy lately, plus y’all know i’m a bit insecure about writing ellie.

thank me by liking and reblogging this because tumblr is acting tf up on my laptop and i had to do the majority of this on my phone

adam's name originally was a reference to a background character in tlou2, but his last name is loosely inspired by some asshole dude i dated once back in college named adam (who i kind of also home-wrecked but i really don't regret doing so lol)

anyway, while you’re here, go check out the new smau series i’m working on called “almost like we knew” ♡︎

taglist: @lonelyfooryouonly, @elliesinterlude, @sawaagyapong, @peppesgirl, @iconsoft, @maybeidohaveadhd, @ellieswifee, @valiantllamapersonpony-blog, @nil-eena, @echostinn

@uraesthete, @softbunlvr, @cherriesxinthespring, @amitycat, @thefishymissy, @yevheniiaaaa, @machetegirl109, @bertandfearnie, @ximtiredx, @efam

@elliesnumber1gf, @digit4lslut, @tayyyystan, @emothurman, @livvy-2000, @abigaillovestoread, @gold-dustwomxn, @liabadoobee, @yuckyfucky, @qtefolleunpez

@libr4sonsa, @17luv, @robinismywifee, @villainousbear, @ashlynnnnnnnn15, @scarlettadore, @vianna99, @g0n3girls, @totheblood, @embermdk

@awyunh, @kenz-ee, @marvelwomen-simp, @eleactric, @simpforellie, @omgidksblog, @anxiouso, @nyrastar, @lillysbigwilly, @hopeless-y

@elliesbabygirl, @alexpritch, @thestarsanctuary, @aethelwyneleigh27, @cass00x, @liabadoobee, @mulan-but-gay, @carmellie, @destielcore, @tfuuka

@elliewilliamsmissingfingerss, @sagestuffing, @ewwitsbella, @igoferalforelliewilliams, @miaelliesgfxoxo, @saturnvalentine, @elysiagyaru, @asteroidzzzn, @gay4jinx, @97cityy

@joliettes, @p1llowthoughtss, @ellieslegalwife

[imagines--galore]

||The Thread of Fate|| Part Twenty-Four

Summary: Soulmate AU. They say the Thread of Fate connects you to your one true love. It may tangle. It may stretch. But it will never break. Wrapped around your little finger it tightens when it feels your soulmate is close and loosens when they are far. And becomes visible with the colors of your soulmate’s Nation when you finally fall in love with them.

Pairing: Zuko x OroraOC (ATLA)

Rating || Genres || Warnings: T+ Romance. Adventure.

Previous Chapters - Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight, Part Nine, Part Ten, Part Eleven, Part Twelve, Part Thirteen, Part Fourteen, Part Fifteen, Part Sixteen, Part Seventeen, Part Eighteen, Part Nineteen, Part Twenty, Part Twenty-One, Part Twenty-Two, Twenty-Three

A/N: We are getting close to the Day of the Black Sun people! THIS IS NOT A DRILL!!!!! THINGS WILL START HAPPENING NOW SO HANG ON TO YOUR HATS! And I know Orora's part is all over the place but only because that's how she feels right now? I dunno? Hope you enjoy!

The wind blew softly through her hair as she sat with her arms resting atop the saddle, staring out towards the wide open sky and ocean that flew by beneath them. The sun had almost set, the last rays of sunshine peaking over the horizon, turning the sky a beautiful hue of orange, pink and purple. Behind her, she could hear her friends but she hadn't really felt like adding anything to the conversation, so instead she opted to admire the view.

And though it painted the perfect picture of serenity, her mind was anything but.

Orora was still a little disconcerted about the dream she had had a few nights ago. It seemed strange, that after so long she would dream about Zuko, one that did not involve a nightmare.

She'd stopped having nightmares weeks ago, and her mind had simply opted to not dream at all. Well, that wasn't really a conscious choice on her part, but it seemed her sub-consciousness was giving her a break by letting her sleep peacefully through the night.

Until a few nights ago that is.

When Zuko had appeared in her dreams.

Held her.

Kissed her forehead.

Touched her.

Comforted her.

And though it was a dream, it had all seemed so real.

Which was utterly ridiculous because how could she feel everything physically that had happened in her dream?

And yet Orora could actually recall the feeling of the wind in her hair, the smell of the sea, the sensation of the sandy beach under her bare feet. If she closed her eyes, she could hear his voice in her mind, promising her what she dared not repeat to herself lest a fickle thing known as hope grow in her heart and just set her up for future disappointment.

Not to mention that when she awoke, her string had been glowing red. And it had stayed that way for quite sometime even after she woke up.

Glancing at her string, which certainly wasn't glowing right then, she wandered if perhaps the closer they got to the Fire Nation capital, would Zuko be able to feel her near?

And that made her nervous.

Was what he said to her in her dream a figment of her imagination, or had it been real?

She wanted to ask someone else's opinion about everything so badly. Maybe Aang? He would know something about it. But she didn't want to worry him. With the Invasion coming up the poor kid already had so much on his mind.

Katara wasn't an option either. The poor girl was only just starting to recover from her ordeal with Hama. Orora felt a shiver run down her spine as she thought of that old crone. No, no point in making Katara worry over her when she had her own demons to fight.

Sokka would be a good choice, but his mind was preoccupied with the Invasion plans and going over each and very detail over and over again. He would be the last one to go to sleep sometimes, and the first to wake up, pouring over maps. Not Sokka then.

Toph? Maybe? The girl did give good advice for a thirteen year old. Not to mention, out of all four of them, Toph knew the most about her situation with Zuko and the conflicted feelings she still had for the Prince.

Talking to Toph sounded good then, she mused, chin resting atop her arms, her eyes closing as she slowly began to doze off.

That is, until she caught sight of something from the corner of her eyes just as she closed them.

Or rather someone.

Instantly, her blue eyes snapped open, head whipping to the side as she stared at the empty spot next to her.

She blinked. There was no one there.

But she could've sworn.....

"Ice Princess? You okay? Your heartbeat is going crazy?" Once more her head whipped around to look at her friends, who were all staring at her a little confused at her sudden reaction. Toph was staring at her, eyes narrowed, and for the first time she felt how fast her heart was beating.

Shaking her head, Orora smiled in a reassuring manner. "Nothing. I just nodded off and had that weird feeling like I was falling or something." Aang, who sat upfront nodded. "I get it! It's happened to me too! And its weird since I can't even use airbending to stop myself from falling in my dreams." He added with a laugh. Orora responded with a smile, thankful that she could always count on Aang to distract her with his cheerful disposition.

Though, as she moved to sit next to him to avoid Toph's observant unseeing gaze, the fact what she had seen remained at the back of her mind.

Not a what, rather a who.

A who with very distinct scar on his face, and amber eyes that had haunted her dreams a few days ago.

"You alright there Orora?" Aang spoke up from beside her. Pursing her lips, and deciding to be truthful, the girl gave a shrug. "Honestly? I don't know. The closer we get to the Fire Nation Capital the nervous I get." She revealed, despite having decided just a few moments ago that she wouldn't burden Aang with her thoughts.

Giving her a look of understanding and a sympathetic smile, Aang reached out to rest a reassuring hand on her forearm. "Is it because we're gonna be storming the Capital, or because you're nervous about seeing Zuko again?"

Orora chewed on her bottom lip as she averted her gaze to the calm ocean flying by beneath her. "Does it make me selfish if I say the latter?" She finally asked after a moment of silence, raising her gaze to look at Aang once again. The young airbender shook his head. "Not at all. But maybe you should ask yourself, are you feeling nervous because you're going to see him again? Or are you feeling nervous because you think you won't be able to face him if the situation calls for it?"

And that was what worried her.

Would her past feelings allow her to face him one on one? Whatever anger and anguish she had felt over his betrayal lay dormant within her. Maybe she should reawaken it be reliving the moment under Ba Sing Se again?

"There it is!" Sokka's voice suddenly cut through her thoughts as he stood pointing towards an island that grew larger in size as they approached. "Argh! Finally! I feel like we've been flying forever." Toph groaned, eager to feel the earth under her feet again. Pulling on the reins, Aang was able to guide Appa into a smooth landing just beyond a clump of bushes.

Everyone quickly dismounted, making their way through the bush. Orora smiled at the sight of the koala sheep that were sleeping peacefully in the clearing. The sun had set about half an hour ago, and though it was still early in the evening, she was tired. Rubbing her eyes, the girl stifled a yawn as Sokka walked around, looking at his map.

They all waited patiently, albeit sleepily, for him to give the all-clear.

"This is it!" He finally exclaimed, prompting Toph to jerk awake where she'd been dozing off on her feet. "The official rendezvous point for the invasion force." Well it was rather peaceful, Orora mused to herself, moving to help Katara and Aang get their bed rolls from atop Appa. "How did you pick this place?" Toph asked, turning to Sokka who grinned proudly.

"Before we split up, my dad and I found this island on the map." He explained. "It's uninhabited, and the harbors surrounded by the cliffs seemed like the perfect secluded place."

As she spread her bed roll on the floor, Orora hummed. "Thank Spirits no one lives here. We can really relax and sleep without having to stay on guard all the time." Picking up another bed roll, she frowned at it before throwing it in Sokka's direction.

The lump of clothing hit him in the face with a soft thump. He pushed it off, glaring at Orora but she was too busy undoing her hair to pay him any mind.

"Nice choice, Sokka." Katara praised her brother, as she too untied her hair. Having seen Orora's little prank and wanting to avoid a scuffle between them both she continued. "And we're here four days ahead of schedule."

Apparently that was the wrong thing to say.

Aang who had only just laid down, suddenly scrambled to his feet. "Wait! Four days?" He cried out, his voice anxious, his face panicked. "The invasion's in four days?" Orora glanced at him, before she yawned hugely once more, her eyes tearing up as she did. Sokka, having unrolled the bed roll Orora had thrown at him, yawned.

"Whatever. That's like four days from now. Let's just calm down and-" He didn't even finish his sentence before he was snoring away. A little ways away Toph was beginning to snooze as well, her feet elevated so she wouldn't have to see during the night.

"For once I agree with Sokka." Orora muttered sleepily, her mind exhausted from over thinking throughout the day. She hoped tonight would be one of those nights where she didn't dream.

Katara nodded. "Sokka's got the right idea, Aang. We're here. We're ready." Orora barely heard the rest of Katara's sentence as she began to drift off, her eyes closing. "The best thing we can do now is get plenty of rest." So saying the waterbender laid down, falling asleep almost instantly. Aang looked around at his now sleeping companions.

"I guess."

Silence settled over the small clearing, broken every now and then when one of the sleeping children would turn over in their sleep, or in Sokka's case, would let out an occasional snore.

And though in the beginning she slept soundly, as the night crept on, a frown creased Orora's forehead and she tossed and turned, as she began to dream.

                                           ————————–

She was being led through and open space. Her wrists and ankles were bound, her clothes were in tatters. The sky above her glowed an ominous red. Her gaze flitted around, trying to find any means of escape, yet nothing rose to mind. There were Fire Nation soldiers all around and not a single familiar face in sight. A hand at her back pushed her forward, prompting her to stumble and fall to her knees.

Somehow she caught herself before her face hit the dirt. Shrugging off the hands that gripped her arms, Orora rose to her knees, her gaze tilting up to the sight before her.

There was Ozai, standing over her with a look of contempt on his face. He cut an extremely imposing figure dressed in his royal robes, and his face was just as cruel as she had seen in the village statue of him. Azula stood next to her father, her features settled into a look of utter glee as she regarded the waterbender. Somehow they both appeared even more fierce and powerful looking then they probably were in real life.

"So, you are the one." Ozai spoke, and though he didn't give any further information, she knew what he was talking about. Orora didn't speak though, she continued to look back at them both. Her face was devoid of emotion and that seemed to annoy Azula.

"May I get rid of her father?" The younger girl all but cooed gleefully, as if she would delight in ending the other girl's life.

And she probably would.

Orora watched as Ozai opened his mouth, to agree with his daughter, to.........what? End her? Torture her? Make her bleed?

Whatever it would be, Orora closed her eyes as she sighed, she could not fight the inevitable. Funnily enough, she wasn't scared.

A shadow fell over her. Probably Azula coming to play with her. To have her fun.

"You'll have to go through me."

Her eyes shot open as her entire body went rigid with utter shock.

No!

It couldn't be!

Despite her disbelief, she managed to tilt her head back and look up to the person standing over her.

His back was to her, but there was no denying that all too familiar head of hair, the stance not to mention the swords he gripped in his hands.

Zuko.

It was Zuko.

Zuko was standing over her.

He was protecting her from his family.

Saving her.

Her heart thumped wildly in her chest. Her gaze flitted from his back, to his shoulders, to his hands, to his finger.

The finger that held his string.

That glowed a bright blue.

Perhaps she whispered his name? Or maybe she called out to him out loud?

Whatever it was, it compelled him to shift his head slightly so he could look over his shoulder at her.

Orora barely managed to catch a glimpse of his scar, barely saw his lips as he called back to her.

Before her eyes snapped open and she sat up fully awake.

                                           ————————–

His life was beginning to get rather tedious. Sure he had enjoyed all the luxuries he had been denied during his banishment and then his subsequent life as a refugee, but since his arrival at the Capital he had slowly begun to realize that he kind of missed that life.

Over the three years he had spent searching for Aang, Zuko had seen the entire world and it had amazed him just how powerful and yet beautiful nature could be.

Rather like his soulmate, he figured.

It wasn't until he began to interact with the people who lived in the world, did he realize that they contributed to the beauty of the world.

Unlike the Fire Nation.

He frowned as he looked at the hot towel that had been offered to him, before he closed his eyes in resignation and dabbed his face with it. Orora would hate all the fuss, he realized. She had told him that one of the other reasons for her leaving the North Pole, other then her family, had been because she wanted freedom to do whatever she wanted. Sure that meant giving up some things she liked, but in the long run, it had all been worth it.

Maybe the luxuries were unexciting because there was no one else to share them with.

As he walked out of the Palace, his gaze flitted from one side to the next, as if he were waiting for someone to suddenly appear.

But no one did.

And he frowned.

It had been several days since he had last seen Orora, in his dreams or otherwise. And while he did think of her everyday, it was nothing compared to the comfort her presence had had.

Though the constant glow of his string did serve to remind him just how deep his affections for her ran, despite her not being there with him.

He needed to speak with someone, he mused to himself as he reached the gates of the Palace and looked to the mansion just across the street.

Thank the Spirits he had someone he could trust and who trusted him.

                                           ————————–

Pulling out the fabric she had bought so long ago, Orora smiled at the color.

"Hey! When do you get that?" Katara asked, reaching out to feel the texture of the fabric. Her smile turning sheepish, Orora gave a nervous laugh. "I got it from the hustle money." She admitted, to which Katara gave a disapproving glare, but shook her head. "Well, what're you gonna do with it?" She asked, as Orora moved to get the small sewing kit she had also bought.

"Well I don't want to face the Fire Nation is their colors." She gestured to the clothes she had on. "I want to fight them wearing the colors of my tribe." The other girl nodded in understanding. "But isn't it a little darker then what you would usually wear?"

Orora nodded as she looked over all the rough sketching she had done over the past few weeks. "Well I figured warriors wear dark blue when they go into battle." She admitted, to which Katara gave a small laugh. "Trust you to go against tradition." She said, playfully nudging Orora to which the older girl grinned at her. "Oh? And which one of us beat up Pakku so he would teach her how to fight?"

Giggling Katara peered at the sketches Orora had done, smiling as she picked up one. "Maybe you should do this one?" She suggested, holding it out for the older girl. Orora nodded. "I needed a second opinion. Thanks Katara!" So saying the girl moved to pick up a pair of scissors.

Grabbing the corner of the fabric, she lifted it in the air to shake it out.

But then her gaze caught sight of someone standing just at the other end of the cloth. Her mouth fell open in a sudden gasp, and the corners slipped from her fingers as the fabric dropped. Behind her Katara continued to go through the sketches, leaving Orora to stare in disbelief at Zuko.

Their eyes met, ice blue on warm amber. He looked just as she had seen him on that final day in Ba Sing Se, only before what had happened in the catacombs. He smiled at her, that soft happy smile that only she managed to get out of him, and her heart physically ached at the sight.

The dream she had had last night suddenly came back to her. And how, despite the obvious danger of her dream she had not been afraid.

Almost as if she had known.

Known that he would come and save her.

Her string glowed a bright red, prompting her to raise her hand and inspect it briefly. Zuko mirrored her action, so that she could see the blue of his string.

"-ra? Orora?"

The young waterbender was jilted out of her entrancement when Katara's hand landed on her shoulder. She let out a startled cry, tensing up and dropping the scissors she had been holding as she pivoted on her feet.

Her heart beat fast in her chest, and she panted, prompting Katara to frown at her in worry. "You alright? I've been calling your name for awhile now?" She asked, as the older girl turned to look over her shoulder where Zuko had been standing a few moments ago.

The space was empty.

"S-sorry, I was.....lost in thought." The girl finally admitted, reaching up to brush her hand back from her face where it hung around her shoulders in soft waves. Katara's worry did not dissipate as she continued to frown. "How about I help you with cutting the fabric?" She offered, picking up the scissors as she did.

Giving a small nod, Orora turned her attention back to her little project, hoping to push away the sight of her soulmate standing just across from her from her mind.

It helped.

But only a little since her string glowed red throughout the day, serving as a constant reminder of the depth of her feelings for Zuko.

                                           ————————–

"So have you given any thought to what I said?" Mai asked as she set down the teapot and held out the cup of tea she had just poured. Accepting the cup, he took a small sip from it, his eyes darting to the open doorway. Mai seemed to catch his silent question and quickly reassured him with a nod.

No one was out there to eavesdrop on their conversation.

"I have." He finally revealed. "But I'm still working on all of it, it'll take me some time to go over everything. Make sure I'm ready." He revealed, keeping his response as vague as he could. Mai nodded.

"I get it, though I figured you would want to prepare after the all-day war meeting coming up?" She revealed, taking a sip from her own cup as she did. Zuko frowned.

"War meeting? What are you talking about?" He asked, his voice sharp. Mai looked surprised before continuing. "Azula mentioned something. I-I assumed you were going, too." She said, as she too frowned at his confusion. He was the Prince wasn't he? Shouldn't he be aware of the meeting like Azula had been?

Zuko tried not to let that disappointed feeling settle in his heart. He had thought that perhaps his father would actually treat him like a son, but that hope had sailed out the window. But not even treating him as Prince of the Fire Nation?

That truly gutted him. "I guess I wasn't invited." He finally said, ending the conversation with a sip from his teacup. The both of them sat in silence for the rest of his stay. A simple goodbye was all they offered one another as he departed, leaving him with his thoughts as he rode the palanquin back across the road.

Why did he keep setting himself up for disappointment one moment after the other?

It was actually starting to get pathetic, even in his eyes. Orora would surely have his head for allowing himself such false hope. Honestly, he liked to think he had more chance of Orora actually forgiving him then his father treating him as his own son.

Though he doubted it would be easy.

As he walked back to his room, his string glowing an ever constant blue. Once ready for bed, he dropped onto the soft mattress, reaching under his pillow to retrieve the blue dragon comb. He set it at his side, where he could see it and just relive the memories of the owner.

                                           ————————–

Her fingers were beginning to cramp by the time she was done cutting the desired shapes and outlines. There was no point in actually starting her sewing till the next day since the sun had set awhile ago.

She hadn't spent the entire day cutting. Somewhere inbetween she had taken a lunch break as well as a bending break with Katara. The Master waterbender had taught her some new moves that would help her in the upcoming battle. In turn, Orora had gone through some basic leg movements to teach Katara how to waterbend with her feet and legs.

All in all, it had been a productive day.

Aside from the fact that she kept seeing Zuko here and there throughout the day at the most random of moments.

Now that everyone was finally asleep, including Aang, who had come rather late to where they were all sleeping, Orora sneaked away to the small river outlet she and Katara had been practicing in the entire day.

Looking around, she removed her shoes, before stepping into the water. Inhaling deeply she closed her eyes, concentrating with all that she had.

And when she finally opened her eyes, he was standing right in front of her, just a few feet away.

"What're you doing here?" She demanded, ignoring the way her heart leapt at the sight of him. He shrugged in response, crossing his arms over his chest. "You called me just now, didn't you?"

The sound of his voice had every single memory of him rising to the front of her mind. Slightly overwhelmed by the emotions, Orora did her best to not let them overtake her completely.

"You alright?" He asked, obvious concern lacing his tone as he peered at her from under the fringe of his black hair that covered his forehead.

"Why should you care?" She spat out, allowing her anger to rule her tongue for once as she glared at him. The water responded to her shift in emotions, rising in a small wave around her. He didn't seem at all perturbed by her sudden outburst. Instead he sighed, suddenly looking really really sad.

"You know why." He finally responded as he raised his finger, the string glowing blue. She exhaled angrily. "That is not a reason. It shouldn't be. Not after what you did."

It was stupid. She was talking to someone who wasn't even there.

And yet.......she couldn't help it. Couldn't help show the hurt and anger that had laid dormant for so many weeks. Though this was only a small trickle of it. Most of what she felt was still behind a wall she had built within herself.

Doing her best to calm herself, she turned her head so she wouldn't have to look at him. "Please, just go away."

She didn't have to look up to know he was gone. Though she did in the end.

Just so she wouldn't have to see her string flicker with color.

                                           ————————–

"Sokka, get up! I needa know what day it is!"

The startled, panicked cry of Aang was what had her sitting up even before she had opened her eyes. The night had been restless for her, and she'd only managed to catch a few hours of sleep.

And now there was Aang screaming at the top of his lungs, first thing in the morning. She forced her eyes open, only to be greeted with the sight of Sokka jumping up and hitting his head on a nearby rock. Despite the fright she had gotten, Orora couldn't help but snigger at the boy's expense. Beside her Katara and Toph sat up as well.

"Relax! It's still two days before the invasion!" Toph reminded, as Aang began to pull on Sokka's limbs to try and get him to stand up. Now that the sleep was out of her eyes, Orora was finally able to see the state Aang was in.

His hair was in disarray, there were bags under his eyes, and he looked frantic and panicked as he insisted that Sokka perfect his rock climbing skills, because of a dream he had.

"But that was just a dream." Sokka reminded before insisting. "I'm a great climber!"

The young Avatar was having none of it as he pointed towards a nearby cliff. "Then climb that cliff! Climb it fast!" They all turned to the take in the sheer size of the cliff. Sokka returned his gaze back to Aang who simply pointed even more adamantly, if that were possible. Sighing the Water Tribe boy reluctantly began to climb the cliff, grumbling under his breath as he did.

Shaking her head, Orora moved to put on her shoes.

"Don't drink that!" Aang suddenly shouted, pointing at Toph who had just taken a gulp from a water skin. She spat the water out, straight onto Katara who grimaced in disgust. Orora muffled her sudden giggle as Katara glared at her in annoyance.

"Why? Is it poisoned?" Toph exclaimed, as Katara waterbended the water off her.

"In my dream, we were right in the middle of the invasion, and you had to stop to use the bathroom!" Though she was listening to what Aang said, Orora stood to start preparing breakfast. "We died because of your tiny bladder." Seeing movement out of the corner of his eyes, Aang's gaze suddenly shifted to Orora where she was fathering ingredients for breakfast. "And you!" He shouted, pointing towards the older girl, startling her into dropping her ingredients. "In one of my dreams you made something to eat and we all got sick and none of us could fight in the invasion."

Orora blinked at him. Alright, now she was starting to get a little worried about his state of mind. But Aang didn't stop there, he pivoted on his feet, turning to Katara and pointing at her. "And you need to start wearing your hair up. In my dream, your hair got caught in a train, and-"

But he didn't complete his dream. Katara's hand on the side of his face had him pausing. "Aang!" She spoke loudly and firmly over his panicked gushing. "I know you're just trying to help, but you really need to get a grip." She tried to reassure him. "You're unraveling."

Aang blinked, taking a deep breath as he shook his head. "You're right. I'm losing my mind." He groaned softly. Reaching out Orora patted his head gently. "How about we all have some nice breakfast. Maybe that will calm you down?" She offered, smiling kindly at the younger boy. "I promise I'll be careful with my cooking." She joked, winking at him playfully. Somehow he managed to smile back at her.

However, an hour later, Orora realized that there was no helping Aang. He was still pacing around, his eye twitching, his fingers rotating and fumbling as he fretted over what was to come on the day of invasion.

"It's like every time I think about how stressed I am, I just end up more stressed. I'm like a big growing snowball of nerves." As he paced some more, she found her eyes flitting to Katara who looked back at her. They both exchanged a look of concern.

Sokka who had been hammering away at a piece of armor for Appa turned to look at Aang. "Of course you are. That's 'cause you gotta fight the Fire Lord, the baddest man on the planet. And you better win or we're all done for."

Orora slapped her forehead while Toph sighed at Sokka's lack of attempt to calm Aang down. Katara stood up and approached her brother.

"Sokka! You're not helping!" She stated in an annoyed tone, to which Sokka stood up and shrugged. "What? It's true. That's the deal. He knows it." Before Katara could respond to her brother's lack of tact, a flash of blue flew through the air, catching Sokka around the mouth and freezing there in place, effectively shutting him up. As Sokka began to struggle with the ice mask, courtesy of an annoyed waterbender from the North Pole, Katara walked towards an even more nervous looking Aang and touched his shoulders.

"You know what, I've got just the thing! Get ready to be de-stressified!" She said, smiling and leading Aang away. "If your trick doesn't work, I'm next!" Orora called out to their retreating backs as a shadow loomed over her. She raised an eyebrow at the sight of Sokka who made several muffled angry sounds before pointing to his mouth.

She rolled her eyes. "Next time, be more tactful." She warned, waving her hand and allowing the ice to melt away from his mouth. In response, the boy stomped back to his personal project, grumbling under his breath.

Orora turned her attention to the half sewn shirt she had dropped in her lap, picking it up and resuming her task. She was so engrossed in what she was doing, that she barely noticed when Toph and Sokka walked away with Appa, to mold the shape of the armor that would be using metal to his size.

"What're you making?"

Her hands stilled, but she didn't look up.

"I am making a new outfit to wear for when we defeat the Fire Nation." She heard herself say. Why she spoke to him though was beyond her. She should just ignore him and he would disappear.

And yet, some small part of her, the one that still held that soft spot for him, that missed him, wanted to speak to him, to hear his opinion.

Even if, in a way, she would be speaking to herself.

"So, not a new outfit because you're meeting me then?" His voice was teasing. She still didn't look up.

"Don't flatter yourself. I'll be busy fighting to take down your nation to even think about you." Lies, her inner voice told her, but she ignored it.

He was silent for a few moments. "You know, I always wandered how you would look in blue. I mean I did see you at the North Pole, but you were kind of covered in blood then." She could feel the smile in his voice as he continued. "I bet you'll look beautiful."

His compliment, threw her off guard.

Her eyes widened, and despite her initial promise to ignore him and just focus on her fingers as the needle and thread flew through the fabric, she looked up.

Only to see that he was gone.

Leaving her with a hollow feeling in her chest, and a flickering string.

Luckily distraction came in the form of a disgruntled looking Avatar. "Well Katara's sauna method didn't work." He grumbled turning his heavy lidded gaze towards Orora who set her sewing aside. "In that case, lets see if I can help you relax."

So saying, the girl led him away to a location that was partially covered by a big outcropping of a cliff side. It provided enough shade that their ice sculptures wouldn't melt.

"Making sculptures always helped me." Orora explained, as she led Aang to stand in front of his block of ice. "It helps keep my mind focused on one task and helps me relax." She explained further, gesturing for him to start whenever he was ready.

"What should I make though?" He asked, looking back at her curiously to which she shrugged. "Whatever comes to mind."

Aang stood still for a few moments, probably contemplating on who or what to mold from the ice. Finally his arms and hands began to move and Orora watched, in growing horror at what he created.

It was an ice sculpture in the likeness of Ozai. However, he appeared more like a demon spirit then his real self. Aang had even given him horns, a forked tongue and about six eyes. She winced as Aang stepped back, clear fear and shock written across his features as he took in what he had created.

"Erm....maybe, you shouldn't have let your nightmares guide you so much?" Orora suggested, to which Aang let out a groan of frustration. "What am I going to do?" He lamented, as Orora waved a hand and his sculpture melted away. "You're had nightmares before Orora." He suddenly recalled, turning to her, his face desperate.

"How did you get rid of them?" Orora blinked, frowning slightly in thought. "I don't know if my nightmares were at the same intensity as yours Aang. I mean the emotions behind them were very different. I just had to let out all that I was feeling for the nightmares to stop."

She looked at him, reaching out to place a comforting hand on his shoulder. "I should think for your nightmares to stop, you just need to face your fear." Her suggestion had Aang's eyes widening in panic once more and his entire body to tremble. "But that doesn't mean you have to do it alone." She reassured him quickly. He was so much shorter then her, and it only made her feel all the more protective over him.

"I promise, when you face the Fire Lord on the day of the invasion, I'll be there with you." She promised. So saying, she wrapped her arms around his slight frame, enveloping him in what could only be described a soothing embrace. It took him a few seconds before he returned the gesture, and for a few moments, Aang was able to feel safe and secure rather then the crippling fear ad anxiety that had hounded him for the past two days.

Once he had pulled back from the embrace, she smiled at him. "Maybe you should talk to someone about what you're feeling? Talking always helps, maybe Sokka can be the perfect candidate for that?" She added to which Aang nodded.

"You're right! I'm gonna go find him! Thanks Orora!" So saying, the young Avatar raced away on an air scooter. Once the air had settled, Orora turned her gaze towards the ice sculpture that she had created for her own purpose.

And that purpose was quickly realized fifteen minutes later when she stood in front of an ice sculpture of her soulmate.

"Why do you have to be on my mind so often?" She whispered as she put the final touches to the sculpture before stepping away. "You should mean nothing to me after what you did, and yet I still find myself thinking about you. And it feels like I'm betraying our cause when I do."

Silence.

Her only companion was the glow of her string and an ice sculpture that melted away with a wave of her hand.

                                           ————————–

The meeting had just adjourned.

And he had been invited to it. his father hadn't wanted to start the meeting until he arrived. He had sat beside his father, in the seat of honor, had been the perfect son, the ideal prince.

But then, as he walked down the corridor towards his room, why did he feel so alone?

For so long he had wanted nothing more then love and acknowledgment from his father, from the man who should be there to guide him and help him should he stumble.

But that meeting, what his father had decided, helped get rid of that notion once and for all.

He was never going to change, Zuko realized. That man was going to remain hard-hearted and unforgiving. He would destroy the entire world for his gain. For glory.

During the entire duration of the plan his father had told so gleefully, all Zuko could think of was all the lives that would be lost because of that plan.

All the plan who would loose their homes, their loves ones.

Everything.

Zuko had lived among those people. They had shown him kindness when no one else could ever have. They had helped him, his Uncle and Orora as well.

How could his father be so cruel and unfeeling?

Orora had been right.

Try as he might, he would never gain his father's approval the way Azula had.

And his Uncle had been right too.

He had to forge his own path, his own destiny.

While his initial drive had been to find Orora and maybe stop the Fire Nation from damaging the world too much. Now? It was completely different.

Now his destiny included helping the Avatar end the war and defeat the Fire Nation.

Once and for all.

                                           ————————–

The whole day she had worked on her outfit. It was almost finished and just needed a few embellishments. Orora hoped she had gotten the proportions right.

"Its turning out great."

If only the mirage of her soulmate would leave her alone.

She looked up from her task, glaring at Zuko as he sat opposite her. He met her gaze with a small hesitant smile. "You know, if you want to say something to me, about what I did, you can." He suggested after a brief moment of tense silence. Orora shook her head, returning her attention to her clothing, her needle flying.

"What would be the use?! You're not here so I would be yelling at nothing and my friends already have Aang's spiral to deal with. I have no desire to burden them with my troubles." She responded, wincing as she accidentally pierced her thumb with the tip of the needle. Wiping away the drop of blood, she continued.

"No, I am going to yell at you when you're actually here in front of me. Because that is what you deserve for what you did to me. To your Uncle." Her hands trembled as that anger that had festered within her for so long in the darkness began to reach a boiling point.

"And I look forward to it." She blinked, her gaze once more finding his. Her brow creased in a confused frown. "To my yelling at you?" She asked, thinking that maybe her mind was really spiraling like Aang's.

Zuko shook his head. "No. To see you."

Her eyes widened at the absolute honesty on his face as well as the smile of utter happiness that played about his lips.

She shook her head, closing her eyes. "This is all in your head." She whispered. "This is all in your head."

Orora couldn't afford to get her hopes up. But it seemed fate was just setting her up to be disappointed all over again. Starting from the dream where he had promised he would come back to her, and now, his mirage appearing to her and saying things like that.

Tears of frustration pricked her eyes as she finally opened them and saw that he was gone. Trying not to let that sinking feeling in her chest make her feel anymore hollow then she already was, she returned to the final stitches of her pants.

Only to glance up when a gust of wind blew by her. Or rather an airbender with his arms in the air and a cry of complete panic echoing as he went by. Orora blinked at his retreated back, wandering what had scared him like that.

A moment later Toph followed his path and she had her explanation.

"What did you do?" She asked, prompting the blind girl to scowl at her. "How'd you know I did something?" Se asked sounding a little offended to which Orora rolled her eyes. "You're always doing something sinister or planning it Toph."

A beat of silence before Toph grinned and nodded. "That's true." Kicking up dirt she walked to sit beside Orora, using her knitting basket as a footstool to keep her feet elevated.

"So, mind telling me why your heart is racing like you just ran as fast as Twinkletoes?"

Blue eyes blinked at Toph for a few brief moments before the older girl sighed, her shoulders drooping. "I'm just thinking about tomorrow and how I might.....run into Zuko." She finally revealed to the younger girl.

Toph hummed. "You know I've been wandering the same thing. I mean we're gonna be taking down the Fire Nation and he is the Prince of the Fire Nation. How're you gonna handle it?" Setting aside her sewing in favor of pulling her legs to her chest, Orora sighed. "I honestly have no idea." She admitted, allowing her fear and uncertainty of the situation to leak into her tone.

Toph was silent next to her for a few moments. "Well, whatever happens, and no matter what the outcome, we'll all face it together." The waterbender glanced at the earthbender from the corner of her eyes. Slowly a small smile pulled at her lips as she nodded. "Yeah, I suppose we will."

Grinning Toph pulled her hand back and punched Orora in the shoulder, prompting the girl to let out a grunt of pain. "I see your method of showing affection has not changed." The girl said, rubbing the sore spot as Toph grinned. "Nope, and it ain't happening either Ice Princess. So get over it!"

"Hey guys!" Katara's voice cut through their moment of silence, prompting them both to look towards the source as she raced towards them. "What you want Sugar Queen?" Toph asked. Ignoring the nickname, she simply grinned. "I think I found a way for Aang to sleep." Behind her, her brother was racing to catch a koala sheep, prompting Orora to raise an eyebrow at his antics.

"Has Sokka started to loose it too?" She asked, to which Toph added. "More so then he already had." The both of them laughed at their own jokes, prompting Katara to huff and grab their wrists, pulling them up.

"Come on! This is brilliant."

She spent the rest of the day catching koala sheeps and creating the world's softest bed for Aang. And not for the first time, Orora was grateful for the friends she had accepted as her surrogate family.

Because honestly?

They were all worth the pain and sacrifice.

                                           ————————–

And as Orora laid down to sleep that night, her string colorless, she knew what tomorrow would bring.

                                           ————————–

And as Zuko laid down to sleep that night, his string a bright glowing blue, he knew what tomorrow would bring.

                                           ————————–

Tomorrow would be the day she would face the Fire Nation. And with her family, friends and allies at her side, there was no way they would loose.

                                           ————————–

Tomorrow would be the day he would finally leave the Fire Nation for good, free his Uncle and join Aang on his journey to restore balance to the world.

And beg Orora to forgive him for what he had done.

He had a long journey ahead of him, but for once, Zuko wasn't scared.

He was at peace with what fate had decided for him.

And he would see it through this time.

                                           ————————–

Tag List - @wavesofchaos​ @violet-potter​ @rennysketch​ @emma-andrea1 @lovesammikinzz @fuzzyfestcat @msrawog @notsaelty @lust-for-pan @aces-tattooartist @jinxxangel13 @lotr-got @bitterspoons @realrintaro @gatorgirl151 @inutheangel @heartfully10 @lucaaahhh @juniper-july19 @anuttellaa @gfksz @bussyvussy @punksnotdeadbutiam @ablofftoneverland-blog-blog @slut-for-menn @vyliie @army-moa75 @juwhls @aqlodun @lovelybaka

[obaex]

you, the ocean, and me (pt. 1) - jj maybank

summary: jj is determined to put a smile on your face during your two-week trip to the obx, but what happens when fun turns into something more?

word count: 13.7K

warnings: cheating + terrible parents

a/n: this is set a few years in the future, assuming everyone is in their 20s. it's a slow burn, so it gets off to a slow start, but picks up quickly, i promise! i linked a couple of songs in here that are mentioned, only listen if you want to cry your eyes out with me.

You gazed wearily out the window as the pilot announced that the plane had begun its descent into the Outer Banks. Despite your warring emotions, you had to admit that the bum little beach town looked beautiful from above, the sky casting the shoreline in an orange glow.

Your mom squeezed your hand from the seat beside you, "This is going to be just what you need, sweetie" she said, "I promise."

You highly doubted that.

You had reluctantly agreed to spend two weeks with her here. A last-ditch effort to stop your life from rolling right off its tracks, in her eyes at least. You didn't know how a sleepy beach town on the coast of North Carolina was supposed to make you forget the three-carat diamond that weighed heavily on your ring finger, the text messages you had found on your fiancé's phone nor the fact that your family insisted you move forward with the marriage anyway. No, you were pretty damn sure there weren't enough Mai Tais in the world to make you forget all of that. As the plane dropped further in the sky your heart dropped into your stomach and a wave of nausea passed over you. When did everything become so fucked up?

You had met Carson Peters when you were fourteen. He was the quarterback, you were the captain of the cheerleading team. It was so damn cliché. Looking back at it now, it felt like your whole life was completely predetermined for you. Of course you would date him. Of course you would attend every homecoming, semi-formal and prom with him. Of course you would lose your virginity to him the night before you both left for college, making promises you had intended to keep. Of course he would study business, rapidly making inroads with your father's company. Now, it was only a matter of time until your father retired and passed ownership over to him. So, of course, when Carson Peters asked you to marry him you had said yes. He was all you had ever known, so ingrained in every aspect of your life and your family that the proposal felt like an inevitability you couldn't run from. Every decision was already made for you: You would get married in the same church as your parents, you would have 2-3 children that played soccer or did ballet, you would have a golden retriever, you would spend Friday nights at the country club, Saturdays playing tennis and Sundays volunteering at church. It wasn't a bad life. It was a damned privileged one, one you should feel grateful for. But you didn't. Because it didn't feel like yours. Looking back, you couldn't remember making one choice for yourself. You didn't really have a say in any of this. You were simply the perfect daughter, the glowing bride, a pawn in everyone else's game.

All of that came to a screeching halt two weeks ago.

It was a Friday night. Carson was in the shower and you were touching up your makeup, getting ready for your usual appearance at the country club when his phone chimed on its charger next to the bed. You glanced at it quickly, the noise catching your attention and you saw an incoming text from your best friend Lauren. You were going to meet her and her husband Nick at the club, so thinking she was texting about the plans for the evening, you opened the text. You and Carson didn't have any secrets between you, why would you? You had known each other for almost ten years. You typed in his passcode (your birthday + his old jersey number).

Lauren: Can't wait to see you tonight 😉

Hm. You felt like that was a little out of place, but maybe she was just trying to be nice? Looking back, you can't believe how naïve you were. You realized they had an existing text exchange so you began to scroll up and up and up and finally came across mutually exchanged pictures that caused you to drop the phone, your heart hammering in your chest, mind racing a mile a minute. You were desperately trying to concoct a plausible explanation for what you had just seen, to apply some logic to the situation, to come up with an excuse, any excuse. There wasn't one.

You could hear the shower stop running and you realized you had a decision to make. Do you confront him? Do you act like you didn't see it? There was no way you could sit through dinner tonight knowing what you knew now. You picked up the phone, set Lauren's most recent text to 'unread' and placed the phone back on the charger before telling Carson you weren't feeling well and wouldn't be up for dinner after all. He was visibly annoyed, whether because of the last-minute change of plans or the fact that he wouldn't get to see Lauren, you weren't sure. You undressed and crawled into bed as he went downstairs to watch TV. You cried yourself softly to sleep, sick to your stomach over what you were going to do.

The next morning Carson was thankfully up and out of the house early for a tee time with your father. He left with a quick kiss on your cheek as you lay in bed, grateful that he wouldn't see your splotchy face and bloodshot eyes. You didn't have the energy for a confrontation. You got up and got dressed. Normally this is something you would call Lauren to talk about. Since that was squarely out of the question, you called your mom, asking if you could come over to talk. You always had a good relationship with her despite the fact that she encouraged you (pushed you?) to look a certain way, act a certain way and dress a certain way to maintain the family image and ensure you were set up for a life just like hers.

You didn't take two steps inside her door before she knew something was wrong and you crumbled in her arms, sobs wracking your body as she held you close and rubbed your back. After you were settled at the kitchen counter with a warm cup of tea, you told her everything. Everything everything. She listened patiently and quietly, your hand in hers. Her eyes widened upon hearing the gory details, but she waited to speak until you were through. You could tell she was taking her time to collect her thoughts, to make sure she was saying the right thing, a skill she had taught you well.

"Honey, this doesn't change anything" she said simply. "People make mistakes. Some men have a wandering eye, but you're the one with the ring on your finger! Best not to ruffle any feathers before the wedding. you have a bright future ahead of you, and so does Carson - you two are meant to be! Plus, you know how important this is to your father and to me. You are our only child, we want you to be set for life and with Carson taking over the company, your future will be absolutely secure."

"What part of my fiancé fucking my best friend has me set up for life with a secure future!?" you said harshly, your voice rising.

"Watch your language!" she chided, like you were a child again. "You are getting worked up and blowing this completely out of proportion."

"Oh my god, have you lost your mind? Can you really not see how toxic this is? Can you not see how this impacts me? How this makes me feel?" you said, nearly shouting now.

"Sweetheart, this isn't just about you--"

"THIS IS ABOUT ME! THIS IS MY LIFE!" you shouted finally, rising to your feet. "Forget it. I'm not doing this with you. You can tell dad I'm sorry I ruined your perfect plans, but I'm done. I can't do this, I'm breaking it off."

"Honey, stop! Please. Listen to me. You're not thinking straight. You're emotional, you're upset. I understand that. You need some time to think before you make any rash decisions. Let's get away, just you and me. A couple of weeks, that's all I'm asking, and if you still feel the same way when we get back, then I'll support you."

"Fine" you agreed, knowing there wasn't a damn thing that could change your mind.

The ride from the Kildare airport to your rental property wound through a small but charming town with a surf shop, some small stores and a few restaurants before you crossed onto the wealthier side of the island, coastal mansions lining the shore with expensive cars parked outside. As much as you were harboring resentment at your mother for dragging you here, you had to admit it was beautiful. In any other circumstance you probably would have enjoyed it, eagerly looking forward to two weeks of uninterrupted relaxation, sun and top-shelf liquor. Now, all you wanted to do was drown yourself in tequila and tears.

Your rental home was obscenely large for just the two of you, but your family didn't do anything in half measures so you weren't surprised. Nor were you surprised when your mother announced that you had reservations in an hour at the local country club. You didn't even question it, simply going through the motions of showering, doing your hair and adorning a floor-length dress and heels. Beautiful on the outside, screaming on the inside.

The Island Club was a copy-paste of any number of similar clubs you had been to over the years, replete with overindulgent pompous assholes sporting golf attire and Lily Pulitzer. You supposed you were being hypocritical knowing you were one of those assholes back home, but you let yourself be bitter surrounded by so many people you didn't know. You managed to make it all the way through dinner before your mom excused herself to mix and mingle and "make connections" for the duration of your stay. You couldn't think of anything you wanted to do less, so you grabbed your glass of wine and headed outside to a quiet part of the back patio, leaning out over the balcony to take in the thick, salty ocean air.

It was near the end of his shift and he was itching to get out of there, fidgeting and tugging at the collar of his shirt when he saw you. He had been making his way down a narrow hallway near the patio doors, arms laden with a tub of dishes. You were leaning against the balcony, staring out at the ocean. He could only see your side profile, but he could trace your long lashes and thick lips and the way your hair danced in the summer breeze. You were dressed to the nines in a stunning open-back dress that showed off your sunkissed skin. But it was the look on your face that pulled him in, eyes narrowed, face scrunched like you were trying to solve all the world's problems. Even with a scowl, he thought you were the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. He realized after a few moments that he wasn't breathing, quickly clearing his throat and looking around to make sure no one had seen him gawking at you like that. He placed the bin of dishes unceremoniously on the floor and wiped his hands on his pants. 'Come on' he thought, trying to pump himself up. 'Stupid things have good outcomes all the time' as he pushed the patio doors open.

You were able to enjoy a few moments of solitude before you heard the woosh of the patio doors open and close behind you and another person came into your peripheral vision. They leaned against the balcony, a respectable distance away. You didn't turn your head, you didn't acknowledge them, you didn't feel like talking to anyone. You bit your lower lip, holding back several snarky remarks, trying to come up with the most socially acceptable way to say "fuck off". You closed your eyes, mustering your energy as you turned - and every word died on your lips.

He was definitely not what you had expected. In fact, he was gorgeous, painfully so, boyishly handsome with tousled blonde hair, nearly white at the tips from the sun, that complimented his tan skin. A laidback smile rested on his lips and his blue eyes twinkled with mischievousness and fun. He was looking at you with a mix of intrigue and something else you couldn't quite put a finger on but that made your heart beat a little faster and brought a blush to your cheeks. He laughed softly, breaking your trance as he said "Drinking wine alone in the dark isn't a great way to meet people."

"Kinda what I was going for" you admitted.

"Oof" he said, covering his heart with his hands like you had delivered a physical blow to him. "Sorry to intrude, it just looked like you could use some company..." he trailed off, hoping for a response, and continuing anyway when he didn't get one. "So, you're here with your mom visiting for a couple of weeks?"

"How'd you know that?" you asked, the surprise evident on your face.

"It's a small club, word travels fast," he said, glancing back inside "And your mom plus a couple of martinis has gotten just about everyone up to speed."

You groaned, leaning back over the balcony, rubbing your temple. "I'm on sabbatical from my trainwreck of a life back home."

"That good, huh?" he replied lightly.

"You have no idea" you sighed.

He laughed, a hint of bitterness evident in his voice, "I could teach a masterclass on fucked up lives, trust me."

And for some reason, you did. It was like your own pain was a radar, able to pick up on other people's agony and despite his pretty face, you could tell this boy had been through his own.

"JJ" he said finally, extending his hand. You took it hesitantly.

"Y/N" you said in reply.

"Y/N" he said, smiling deeply, letting the sound of it linger and melt on his tongue like the first taste of ice cream on a hot day. "Do you want to get out of here?" he said suddenly.

That stopped you in your tracks. You hadn't been propositioned like that in, well, almost ten years. Everyone at home knew who you were and whose you were and that any attempt at something like that was going to be fruitless.

You held up your left hand in response, letting the ring on your finger speak for itself, a sarcastic look on your face telling JJ this was the end of the line.

He felt his heart skip a beat at that, his mind racing with questions and thoughts. Of course she's engaged. Obviously. But why would someone who's about to get married look so miserable? Where is this guy anyway? I wouldn't let her out of my sight. What do I do. What do I do. What do I do.

"Whoa" he said, not missing a beat despite the cacophony in his head. "I'm not asking you to move in with me, princess. You look miserable and I know a place that's a hell of a lot more fun that this."

The thought of running off with this boy sparked something deep inside you, like someone trying to flick on a lighter- flick flick flick - before your rational mind took over.

"My fiancé--" you started.

JJ looked around mockingly to the left and the right, gesturing to the empty patio "Isn't here" he said simply.

"My mom--" you tried.

"Is enjoying her third martini" he replied, "You can text her and tell her you'll be home by midnight."

"But--" you tried a third time.

"Look, I didn't ask you what your fiancé or your mom or your best friend or anyone else wants you to do. I'm asking what you want to do" he said, extending his hand, "Come with me?" he asked, much more confidently than he felt.

It was the first time in as long as you can remember that you had the freedom and the opportunity to make a decision by yourself for yourself. You reveled in it, letting go of every obligation you had to say no.

You placed your hand in his, meeting his strong gaze, "Let's go."

He led you by the hand down a small set of stairs to a walkway that led directly to the parking lot. You were overwhelmingly grateful for his discretion, both of you knowing better than to parade this situation in front of the onlookers inside. You let go of his hand to type out a quick text to your mom and continued to follow him, so engrossed in trying to word your message that you nearly walked into him as he yanked off his bowtie and vest and loosened several buttons on his shirt. You hit send just as he was handing you something. You registered the helmet in your hands, then the bike in front of you.

"No way" you scoffed "Absolutely not."

"Come on" he said, waving you over, ignoring your comments. You took a hesitant step forward and before you knew what was happening, he was kneeling in front of you, grabbing the hem of your dress and rolling it delicately up your leg, revealing your three-inch heels, your calves, his fingers barely touching you, the featherlight passes sending goosebumps up your legs. As his hands nearly reached your knees, you managed to find your words, "H-Hey what are y-you doing?" you asked, your mind completely disconnected from your mouth at the sensation of his fingers on you. He bunched the dress to one side and tied it in a tight knot.

"Can't have it getting tangled in the wheel" he said cheekily as he straightened up, taking the helmet out of your hands and stepping towards you, both of you nearly chest to chest. He smiled devilishly at the blush on your cheeks before sliding the helmet over your head and reaching to gently snap the straps in place.

He pulled his own helmet on and straddled the bike effortlessly, scootching forward to give you room behind him. You settled in, the sloped curve of the seat sliding you right into him, your thighs resting against his hips, your front flush to his back. You looked around for something anything to hold onto as he revved the engine.

"Please hang on to me" he turned to say, picking up on your defiance of the situation. "I don't want you to be uncomfortable, but I also don't want you to die, so it's really the lesser of two evils at this point."

Resigned, you pressed into him, wrapping your hands around his strong core.

"Good?" he asked.

"I think so" you replied hesitantly.

And you were off.

The bike skidded slightly in the gravel, picking up speed as he shot down the driveway at the club.

Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god. You thought to yourself, realizing too late how enormously stupid it was to get on a dirt bike in a dress and three-inch heels with a complete stranger. It sounded like the start to a 48-hour mystery.

And yet.

As JJ navigated the narrow streets confidently, crossing the bridge to the beach, you loosened your death grip just enough to look around and take in the twinkling lights of the homes in the distance, the blink of the lighthouse, the sound of the crashing waves and the warm wind whipping your hair back under the helmet. You closed your eyes, took a deep breath of the salty air and realized you felt surprisingly okay. For the first time since you read those texts the simmering rage and frustration that had been building up inside of you felt more like a warm pot of soup simmering on the stove than a kettle hissing with boiling water. It was contained, manageable.

JJ pulled over amongst a line of other cars and bikes at the beach. As he cut off the engine you could hear the distinct sound of a party, chattering voices, bumping music and you could make out the flickering light of several bonfires as you slid off the bike and pulled your helmet off, frantically trying to untangle your wind-whipped hair. JJ took in your mussed hair, wrinkled dress and rosy cheeks, pink from the adrenaline of the ride and smiled. "You're not going to need those here" he said, pointing to your heels. You slid them off, letting your toes rest in the cool sand as he led the way.

He navigated expertly around the crowd, dodging drunk people, waving to others as they called out to him. He was clearly well-loved and even your brief interaction told you why, his easygoing, laid-back, friendly nature and quick smile were welcoming and inviting, magnetic. It made your fears and anxieties slip away, like as long as you were in his orbit, nothing could go wrong, everything was always good times and sunshine and nothing else mattered. Despite the distractions, wherever he walked, he continued to look back at you to make sure you were still behind him, smiling at you as he waved you forward. You finally found your way to a small bonfire surrounded by a few people that eagerly cheered upon seeing him and tossed him a beer.

He quickly introduced you to his friends and you tried your best to remember their names and nicknames, Kie? Pope? John B (the middle initial seemed very important), Sarah and Cleo. They welcomed you with open arms, literally hugging you, the girls tugging on your dress, overwhelming you with compliments. You weren't sure if it was the booze or if they were always this nice, but you felt immediately at ease. You could tell they were a tight-knit group the way they interacted with each other, a familial casualty in the way they leaned on one another around the bonfire, finished each other's sentences and traded inside jokes. And for the first time in a long time, you just let yourself be. You didn't care that your hair was a tangled mess, that your dress was wrinkled and now covered in sand or that you were drinking Corona. You let the beer and the conversation flow, soaking in the genuine presence of the people around you.

JJ settled on the opposite side of the fire, content to watch you through the flames that lit your face in an orange glow. You already looked like a completely different version of yourself than he had seen on the balcony, like a physical weight had been lifted from your shoulders as you laughed unabashedly. His heart swelled with the thought that he was the reason for the smile on your face. He couldn't tear his gaze away as he looked at you, fidgeting with the label on his beer, barely bringing it to his lips which sat in a permanent smile.

John B looked from his best friend to the new girl and back again. He knew that look on JJ’s face, though he’d never seen it directed at a girl before. It was the same look he’d had the last time they surfed the surge: determination, admiration, desire. It was undeniable. As was the giant ring on her finger. That look and that ring were at odds with one another and he knew he needed to quash this, now.

He nudged JJ and tilted his head away from the group. JJ sighed, hanging his head. He knew this was coming. He stood up, smiling at you quickly before walking away. When he caught up with John B out of earshot, they didn’t dance around the topic at hand.

“What are you doing, man?” John B asked.

“Chillin’, drinkin’ some beers with my friends” JJ replied smartly, taking a long sip of his beer to avoid eye contact.

“You know what I mean, JJ, what are you doing with Y/N?” John B insisted, tone serious.

“I’m just trying to show her a good time” JJ said nonchalantly, shrugging.

“Don’t bullshit me, man” John B said, the frustration in his voice evident, “I see the way you’re looking at her and I also see that rock on her hand. It’s a no-go amigo. Not cool.”

The smirk on JJ’s face disappeared as he grew uncharacteristically serious. He dropped his eyes to the sand, kicking it around with his feet, trying to find a way to put into words what he knew to be true in his heart. She’s not happy. I can make her happy. I know I can make her happy.

“You didn’t see her earlier” he started, eyes downcast, feet continuing to kick the sand around. “She’s miserable, she’s caught up in typical kook bullshit, like she’s never had a day of fun in her life… the look on her face…” he stopped himself, heart clenching at the thought. “I know this is crazy, man, but I don’t think she wants to marry this guy.”

“She said that?” John B said, surprised.

“…Not exactly” JJ replied.

John B huffed, throwing his hands in the air in exasperation. “So, what? You’re psychic now? C'mon man” he said, urging his friend to see reason.

JJ cast his eyes down again.

“I just don’t want you to get hurt” John B continued. “This isn’t going to end like you think this is going to end. She’s going to have her two weeks of fun and then she’s going to go right back to her kook life and you’ll be left to pick up the pieces.”

JJ shook his head. John B’s words warring with the images in his head that played like a movie, the sorrow on your face as you looked out at the ocean, the way your eyes sparkled in the twinkling lights on the balcony, the blush of your cheeks as he pulled your helmet on, the tug of your arms around his chest and the feeling of you pressed tightly to him. You were the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. You knew he was just a bus boy and you agreed to leave with him, you slipped your hand into his, you got on his bike, you’d met his friends. No. There was something there. And he was going to chase it, even if it destroyed him in the process. He clenched his jaw and looked up at John B, determination in his eyes. “I’m doing this. You’re either with me or you’re not, but I’m doing this” he said resolutely.

John B’s heart sank as he sighed deeply. JJ was nothing if not stubborn. It made him loyal at the best of times and rockheaded at the worst of times. It was both his best and his worst quality. “I’m always with you, man” he said, regret already evident in his voice.

JJ’s signature smirk returned to his lips as he tipped his beer forward for a cheers. “To terrible ideas?”

“To terrible ideas.”

The next morning, you rested a cool bottle of water against your forehead as you leaned back in your poolside recliner at the club, hoping to ease the pang of your pounding headache and hangover. Your mom was polite enough not to comment, happy to be in her element after a morning of tennis and a tee time booked later this afternoon as she lay beside you chattering away. You nodded along, inserting comments when necessary as you closed your eyes and let yourself drift back to the night before. It had been so different from your life back home, but so right at the same time. You thought about JJ, his smirk, the goofy stories he told and you found yourself smiling. A pang of guilt resonated deep in your chest. You pushed it down, telling yourself that JJ could be a good friend, nothing more.

"Your drink, m'am" the poolside attendant said, setting down a Corona and pulling you out of your reverie. This caught your mother's attention.

"A beer? Really, Y/N, have some decorum, it's 10:30 in the morning" she said with disdain.

"Thank you" you said kindly to the attendant, trying to defuse the situation, "But I didn't order this." He looked around uncomfortably as he smiled, "It's on the house" he said, before waving politely and making a quick exit.

Your mother tsked and turned her attention back to her magazine when you noticed a slip of paper under the beer.

Marina, 1:00 - JJ

Your heart skipped a beat and a smile crept across your face as you happily took a deep sip of your beer, leaning back in your chair, eyes closed in the sun.

You got to the marina on time. Not really sure what outfit the occasion called for, you settled for your bikini, a flowy top and pair of shorts. You ambled along the aisles of boats, trying nonchalantly to look for the familiar mess of blonde hair as your pulse quickened.

"Y/N!" you heard finally, and turned to see JJ and his friends pulling up in a small boat, waving you toward them. You broke into a big smile as you quickly caught up to them and JJ extended a hand to help you inside. There weren't many places to sit, and JJ beckoned you next to him on a large cooler, barely wide enough for the two of you, your bodies pressed next to each other and backs pressed to the side of the boat as John B hit the throttle and the boat took off. He tore through the channel and marsh grass passed by you on either side in streaks of bright greens and yellows as the hot sun licked your skin. The boat jostled as it made its way into choppier ocean water and as it smacked into a wave, JJ's arm rested protectively behind you, not quite touching you, but near enough that you felt pulled into his presence. You smiled shyly to yourself and avoided eye contact with him.

You ended up anchoring just off a sandbar and as soon as the boat was situated, Pope, Kie and Cleo stripped to their bathing suits and eagerly jumped into the water. Much to your surprise, John B and Sarah were right behind them.

"You coming, princess?" JJ said, standing up and tugging his shirt over his head. You swallowed as you took in his athletic body, muscular arms and chiseled chest. Quickly averting your gaze, you peered into the dark, choppy water, well aware of what could be found in those depths: sharks, jellyfish, stingrays the list went on and on. You opened your mouth to protest but when you turned around JJ was doing a backflip off the other side of the boat. You stood up and walked to the other side as he surfaced, shaking the wet hair out of his eyes with a practiced shake of his head. The others were nearby, swimming and splashing and goofing around but JJ was waiting for you, squinting up at you.

"Come on!" he said encouragingly.

"I don't know" you said hesitantly, eyeing the rough water, fear evident in your voice.

"I won't let anything bad happen to you. I promise. It's totally safe" he said, extending a hand.

It wasn't like you had a choice. Get over yourself. You thought, trying to muster up your courage as you unbuttoned your shorts and pulled your shirt over your head.

JJ could just see you over the top of the boat from his vantage point in the water and as you pulled your shirt over your head revealing your bikini-clad body a rush of water flowed into his open mouth and he choked on the salt water, coughing loudly. Geeezus he thought.

"You ok?" you asked, leaning over the boat, your hair tumbling over your shoulders, the angle providing him with another vantage point of your cleavage as you watched him cough loudly.

He mustered a thumbs up before wiping a hand over his face. You were going to be the death of him.

"Come on, princess, before I drown" he shouted teasingly.

You stepped up to the side of the boat, toes nearing the edge. Your heart was pounding with the adrenaline in your veins, fear causing your limbs to shake. You looked down and saw JJ's smile, his hand extended and your heartrate slowed. He was right, if he was there, it was going to be okay. So, you jumped.

The cool water shivered over you, causing your limbs to tingle as you surfaced. You wiped the salt water from your eyes and landed on JJ's gaze, basking in it as he smiled widely at you "Atta girl!" he said proudly, before waving you over to his friends.

A day spent swimming and drinking in the sun had you nearly wiped out on the boat ride home. You laid with JJ alone on the bow, you on your back and he on his stomach, turned to face you, about an arm's length away. Your conversation flowed effortlessly. He asked you about your favorite music, favorite movies, arguing with you good naturedly any time he disagreed with your answer, though you found you actually had a lot in common with each other. You both loved the outdoors, the beach, dogs, Bob Marley and tequila. They were little things, but even little bonds formed fast friendships.

"Favorite ice cream?" he asked.

"Cookie dough, hands down" you said without pausing.

"Mmm yes" he agreed, his voice sleepy and his eyes closed. "I could crush some of that right now." A pause. "What about favorite flowers?"

You turned your head to look at him curiously. That seemed like a sneaky question. His lips curled into a smile but he didn't open his eyes and didn't say anything further.

You smiled, closing your own eyes again as you faced the sun. "Peonies" you said simply.

He laughed. "I literally have no idea what those are."

You laughed back, "They're fluffy, the look like clouds. They come in a few different colors but light pink is my favorite. They're really pretty."

"I'll take your word for it" he said.

"Do I get to ask a question now?" you asked.

"Shoot"

"Okay, favorite way to spend the day?"

"Surfing" he said without pause.

"You surf?" you asked enthusiastically before thinking further. "Well, I guess I should have figured..."

"Hmm?" He said, confused, popping an eye open to meet your gaze as you looked at him.

You gestured up and down his body. "It fits. You know, the whole blonde surfer boy thing?"

He smirked. This was too easy. "You got a thing for blonde surfer boys?"

You laughed dismissively, turning your head away, fighting simultaneous feelings of butterflies in your stomach and the guilt lurking somewhere deeper. "Nice try, JJ. No, I just think it's cool. I always wanted to learn how to surf, but my parents were more interested in me taking up golf and ballet."

A brief pause.

"I could teach you?" he offered, hoping that the excitement and eagerness in his voice weren't too obvious.

You looked back at him. "Yeah?" you said, trying to gauge if he was serious.

"Hell yeah" he said, eyes closing again as he grinned from ear to ear.

You agreed to meet JJ at the beach the next morning for your first lesson, slipping out of your house before your mom was awake. The sand tickled your toes as you made your way to the water, the whole landscape awash with the pink and peach hues of the morning sun, the surrounding quiet but for the crash of the waves and the occasional call of the seagulls and pelicans overhead, not yet tainted by people, like you were in a beach-themed snow globe.

You saw him seated in the sand, boards propped up behind him, waiting for you as he looked out on the ocean. It was becoming harder and harder to ignore the physical reaction your body had to being in his presence. Your pulse quickened with excitement, you felt light on your feet, like you could float right over to him, you were craving his smile, the sound of his laughter, his signature smirk and the way his eyes twinkled when they looked at you. You were chasing that high, that relief of being with him so hard that you didn't want to acknowledge that at the same time you were running from reality. Just let me be here in this moment you thought. Just let me enjoy this you told your guilty conscience. You twirled the ring on your finger. Didn't you deserve a break? Wasn't that the reason you were here?

You quashed your warring emotions as you plopped into the sand beside him, turning to smile at him, greeted with the smile you had been missing that seemed to wash all your fear and anxiety away.

You were eager to learn the basics, more eager to impress your instructor. He was patient and extremely knowledgeable as he walked you through each step. Learning to maintain your balance was hard. Focusing on his words, while he occasionally placed his hands on your hips or on your arms to guide you was even harder. He was always respectful, but he'd have to be an idiot not to realize the way you responded to his warm, calloused fingers, the way your body shifted towards him, magnetized.

You ended the morning seated on your boards, bobbing in the ocean together, watching the sun crest fully over the horizon.

"Thank you" you said quietly, not wanting to disturb the peaceful moment as you smiled at him.

"'Course" he said, smirking, "You're not bad, princess."

You blushed at his compliment and the now familiar nickname that neither of your acknowledged, but that you couldn't get enough of. "Do you think we could do this again tomorrow?" you asked.

I would do literally anything to spend more time with you. The fact that you're asking me to surf proves to me that you're the girl of my dreams he thought, biting his tongue.

"Absolutely" he said.

So, you woke up for surf lessons with JJ the next morning, and the next morning and the next morning, falling into a routine that became so automatic neither of you had to ask anymore. You jumped out of bed despite the early mornings, eager to start your days in the warm water with JJ and today was no different. You had graduated to trying to stand on your board in the water and were doing a decent job, teetering slightly as he coached you from the water, leaning one arm on his board until an unexpected wave knocked you off and you surfaced next to him, wiping the salt water from your eyes, balancing one arm on your board as you laughed. You realized suddenly how close you were to him and your breath caught at the way he was looking at you. You were close enough to see his blue eyes tracing your face with the same look from the night you first met, intrigue and something else much much deeper, somewhere between pain and longing that had your heart thundering in your chest. You were nearly chest-to-chest now, as you let the waves carry you closer to each other. Your fingers itched to push his damp hair off his forehead. Neither of you spoke, just taking each other in at this close distance, bobbing in the waves, closer than you'd let yourself get on purpose. He opened his mouth to say something when you felt something slither against your foot.

She was on top of him before he knew what the fuck was going on. Screeching and lunging into his grasp about something that touched her foot, her arms thrown around his shoulders, his one arm naturally coming to catch her, to wrap around her and hold her against him as his other rested on his board to keep them afloat. He would have laughed at her reaction if he could remember how to breath. All he could feel was the sensation of her wet, bare body pressed against his, her warm breath on his neck. He could smell her shampoo, could feel her heart beating next to his. It was like his body took over on instinct, pulling her into him, like it was the most natural thing in the world, gently tugging them away.

"Hey, you're alright, it's alright, probably just a fish or some seaweed or something."

He guided you back to shallower waters, immediately regretting it when your feet brushed the sand and you unwound from him, suddenly embarrassed and aware of what you had done.

"Sorry, I don't know why I did that, that just totally freaked me out" you said.

"No worries" he said, casting one last look at you before grabbing your boards and stepping out of the water.

"Want to grab a coffee? My treat?" you asked, scrambling for some way to make up for what just happened.

"Sure" he said, walking with you to a small coffee shop a few blocks from the beach.

"Hot caramel latte with coconut milk, please" you ordered before turning to him. "Uh, iced black coffee's fine for me" he said, nodding at the barista as you paid.

"Why are you drinking hot coffee when it's nearly 90 degrees outside?" he asked, scrunching up his face like he was going to puke, trying to lighten the heaviness of the morning that sat on you like a damp beach towel and feeling much better when he succeeded in making you laugh.

"I don't like when iced coffee melts and it gets all watered down" you shrugged "I've always been that way." You smiled at him before you felt your phone buzz in your pocket. You pulled it out to read the caller ID: Carson Peters. Your heart sank so fast in your stomach it was like you had the wind knocked out of you. JJ was watching you closely and could see the way your shoulders slumped, your brow furrowed and your lips turned down. It was like watching a flower wilt, something so beautiful that stood so tall and radiant, deflating, coming apart. His heart hurt to watch it and he wanted to sucker punch whoever was on the other side of that phone.

You looked up at him with doe eyes, "Sorry, I have to take this" you said, and without waiting for a response you stepped outside.

You had been gone for nearly a week without hearing from Carson apart from a few text messages. You didn't know what you hoped to hear on the other end. What if he found out that you knew? What if he was calling to apologize? To beg you to come home? You glanced back at the coffee shop, mind flickering between the boy inside and the boy on the phone. You slid your finger across the screen to pick it up.

"Hi Car" you said, managing to keep your voice calm, eager to hear what he would say. You could hear some muffled noises, like he was rustling around.

"Car?" you asked again.

"Hey! Hey Y/N" he said, out of breath, his voice rushed. "Do you know where my blue sneakers are? I looked in the garage and in the back of the closet..." He rambled on but you had stopped listening. He was calling to ask where his sneakers were? You hadn't talked in almost six days and he was asking about his sneakers? His ignorance and the audacity he had to carry on his mundane, stupid life while you were battling your own future reignited the rage deep within you. You could have screamed as angry, frustrated tears welled up in your eyes.

"They're by the back door, in the basket" you said, interrupting him, your voice quivering with anger. You could hear him padding down the stairs.

"Shit, you're right, there they are, thanks, babe!" he said "You having fun with your mom? You'll be home next weekend, right?"

"Yup" you said cooly. "Look, I've got to go, I'll talk to you later."

"Ok!" He said, missing your tone completely. "Love you!"

Liar. You thought, and hung up.

JJ lay flat on his bed, staring up at the ceiling as he twiddled with the rings on his fingers. He leaned over to glance at his phone: 3:30 AM. He couldn't sleep. His mind was whirling as he thought about how in one short week you had eclipsed his every waking thought, and now his sleep too. He had been drawn to your beauty, which was undeniable. You were perfect in every sense of the word, his body ached at the memory of you pressed against him in the ocean. Honestly, a shark could have bitten his leg off and he would have died a happy man spending his last moment on earth surfing in the sunrise, you latched to him, you wanting his arms around you, to hold you close, to protect you. God how he wanted that with you. More than he'd ever wanted anything, he was sure of that. But what he was feeling was more than physical desire. He loved getting to know you. He loved your personality. He loved how you were willing to try new things and put yourself out there, even though he knew it scared you. Riding dirt bikes and jumping in shark infested waters, you were braver than you gave yourself credit for. Perhaps more than anyone had ever given you credit for. Which is why he couldn't understand the last piece of your puzzle. He was pretty sure that phone call was from your fiancé, but why did you look so miserable? Why couldn't you just break things off if he didn't make you happy? Why can't she just be with me instead? he thought. If that was what you really wanted, he knew you were brave enough to do it, but did you? He flopped over and pulled his pillow over his head.

That Sunday night found you back at the Island Club for dinner with your mom. This time, she had eagerly invited several couples to join you and they spent the whole night discussing politics and humble bragging to each other. You smiled, nodded and laughed at all the right times like the circus animal you were tamed to be, each comment grating on you more and more until your eyes caught something over the shoulder of the woman across from you: a mop of blonde hair peeking out from the hallway, a hand waving wildly to get your attention and pointing to the back door while also trying to be subtle and failing miserably. You blushed deeply and laughed, trying too late to cover it up, which caught your mom's attention and halted conversation at the table. "I'm so sorry, will you please excuse me?" you said, standing up and walking to the back door without waiting for a response.

You pushed outside and looked around for JJ. There were people everywhere with some sort of event going on, a DJ mixed a sweet soundtrack that drifted out over the ocean in the background. You spotted him in the back corner of the balcony, near where you had first met.

"Oh my god, thank you" you said, exhaling loudly. "If I had to listen to Mr. Wheeler's play-by-play of his round of golf today any longer, I was going to pass out."

JJ laughed and nodded towards the beach, "My shift isn't over for another hour, but wanna go for a walk?"

You nodded eagerly, following him down the stairs and making your way to the beach, tugging off your heels and letting your toes sink into the cool sand.

You walked in comfortable silence for a while, listening to the DJ and the ocean as you quietly began humming the song that had just come on, one of your favorites, a summer classic, dancing in the moonlight.

You caught JJ shimmying to the beat next to you, which made you laugh. He caught your eye, smiling wide at your reaction and started dancing in earnest, moving his hips and arms in time with the beat. What you thought would be goofy ended up being impressive and undeniably attractive, he had moves and your eyes twinkled as you took him in, laughing and clapping, cheering him on when he reached out to grab your hand and pull you along with him, the two of you dancing, jumping and singing as he twirled you around to the beat. It was effortlessly fun. You didn't care about looking silly next to him and the way he was looking at you boosted your confidence tenfold. You both laughed harder as he spun you around once more, dramatically, as the song came to an end. You were both breathless, smiling at each other, your hand still wrapped in his as the next song faded in.

It was a slow song and it was like the minutes slowed in time with the beat as he squeezed your hand gently and pulled you into him, raising your hand in his while his other rested respectfully at your midback in a slow dance position. Neither of you said anything. It felt natural, easy, unforced, like everything did with him. You didn't have to think as you slipped your arm around his shoulder and let your head rest on his chest as he swayed you back and forth. You let your eyes flutter closed as you listened to the lyrics.

When the time is up and the sun it dies

'Til the rivers flood and the ocean dries

Hand in hand under the falling sky

I will love you...

The song was ethereal and beautiful and the lyrics tugged at your heart. You could feel tears pinprick your eyes without warning.

So many say it and it's all a lie

But I will love you...

The lyrics sounded like wedding vows and you nuzzled deeper into JJ's chest, drinking in the comforting smell that was distinctly him, the feeling of his arm around you, holding you to his chest and you let yourself imagine what it would be like to say these things to someone and mean them. To say them to someone you felt them for. To say them to someone you picked, instead of someone that was simply predestined for you.

You hadn't let out a sound, but as with so many other things between you, JJ could sense your feelings. He let your hand go, bringing both arms around, pulling you deeper in to him, resting his head on top of yours, whispering your name, a plea, a prayer, a question that you weren't ready to answer. As you continued to sway he let himself imagine what it would be like to say these things to you. To say everything he wanted to say to you, freely, without guilt or shame or fear of what you might say or not say back to him.

Before the song could fade out, the ocean crashed beside you, rushing up to soak your feet unexpectedly and you pulled away as the cool water brought you back to reality. You grabbed the hem of your dress, wiping discretely at the tears on your face as you looked up at JJ, his eyes on you, mouth parted like he wanted to say something, a look on his face you hadn't seen before. He was normally so happy, so carefree, but he was stone serious as he reached out a hand to tuck a piece of your hair behind your ears.

"JJ" you whispered, your eyes closing as his fingers brushed your cheek.

He pulled his hand back.

"Let's get you back, princess" he said quietly, "Don't want them to send a search party." You didn't miss the somber look on his face as he slung his arm over your shoulder like nothing had happened.

You lay flat on your bed, staring up at the ceiling as you twirled the ring on your finger. You leaned over to glance at your phone: 2:30 AM. You couldn't sleep. Usually, you crashed into bed after you spent your day surfing and soaking up more sun and Corona than you could remember, but the knowledge that you were heading home to face reality in just a few days had you tossing and turning. What you knew in your mind and what you wanted in your heart raging an endless battle that was tearing you apart. You knew that your parents had painstakingly planned every aspect of your life to be set up for success. A life with Carson meant wanting for nothing. You would have everything at your fingertips: a house, a car, designer clothes and five-star vacations, seven-bedroom rental homes and country clubs. You would want for nothing, except love and affection. Your heart told you that you had thought you had loved Carson, thought you knew what love was before you had come here, before you met JJ. Love wasn't houses and cars and a carefully planned future. Love was stolen glances over a bonfire, safe arms when you were scared, hugs when you were sad, barefoot dances on the beach, your name on his lips. Love was being scared of something and doing it anyway. And you had never been more scared in your life. You flipped over, pulling your pillow over your head.

The next morning it was like nothing had happened the night before, you and JJ falling into your casual but flirty familiarity during your morning surf session. You were both seated on your boards bobbing with the waves next to each other when JJ nudged you and pointed a little further down the shoreline in the water. You covered your eyes, squinting when you saw a burst of water and a dolphin crested the waves. You squealed with delight as you realized it was a whole school of dolphins, maybe 6 or 8, headed your way. You both watched in reverence as they swam closer, circling around you, maybe 10 feet away. You had never experienced anything like that in your life, your head turning every which way to take them in before looking at JJ and laughing.

Your joy was contagious and he laughed with a knowing smile. "They're good luck, you know" he said. You turned to him, curious. "They symbolize guidance, fun and freedom" he continued "And typically mean that good fortune is on its way." He looked around smugly before saying under his breath "...I'll take all the good luck I can get..." as he began to paddle in. The weight of his words not lost on you as you followed him.

That night you eagerly recounted the story to your mom, gushing over the amazing experience of being so close to such beautiful animals. She smiled and squeezed your hand, "I'm so glad you've had a chance to relax. I told you this is just what you needed" before changing the subject tactfully. "The wedding planner called to confirm the last security deposit has been settled for the venue and the band."

Your head snapped up at her, surprised.

"Mom" you started, your voice heavy with tension and trepidation.

"Y/N, this has been a great vacation. You've had your fun and that's what's important, but it's time to start thinking about reality."

The realization hit you and you could feel the dread and anxiety seeping over your body like someone had cracked an egg on your head. It oozed over you, sticky, thick and suffocating. Your family had no intention of letting you break off your engagement. This was a distraction as they continued to weave their web of deceit around you. Your mom had continued planning the wedding this whole time.

You stood up, shaking with the sudden urge to run, the need to be physically anywhere but here. "I'm going out" you said suddenly, grabbing a sweatshirt and your phone as you started walking toward the front door, ignoring your mother's pleas as you slammed it behind you and ran down the steps into the street, letting your feet create the distance you needed.

Hot, angry tears burned in your eyes and ran down your face as your fingers scrambled to your phone, dialing JJ's number before you could think more about it.

His phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out and stood to his feet when he saw your name on the caller ID. It was late, later than you'd ever called him before. He danced on the balls of his feet, trying to think of the best way to answer before swiping to pick up the call.

"Hey, princess!" he said, kicking himself for how desperate and eager he sounded.

"Jayj?" you said, your voice a strained cry and his smile immediately dropped, his feet moving on autopilot towards the front door. You weren't okay. "Can you come get me?" you asked.

"I'm on my way" he said, sprinting to a run as he hopped on his bike.

He found you walking on the side of the road a few blocks from the beach, killing the engine on his bike and tipping it into the dirt, not bothering with the kickstand as he ran up to you. You reached your arms up and he pulled you into a deep hug, nearly lifting you off your feet as his arms wrapped tightly around you, his head buried next to yours as you began to cry anew. His heart clenched, a physical pain in his chest as he felt the pain rolling off of you, squeezing you tighter like he could pull it out of you and take it on himself. He didn't try to quiet you down or ask questions, he just let you cry, rocking you side to side, rubbing your back. The sweetness of his touch making you cry even harder.

"I can't do it, JJ" you whispered, muffled in his shirt. His heart hammered in his chest. Did he hear you right? Can't do what? What is she talking about?

"I don't want to marry him, I can't marry him" you said, speaking the words you had felt in your heart but hadn't dared let yourself think or say out loud until now. His heart was beating so hard he was sure you could feel it. If it wasn't for the current circumstances he would have leapt into the air, fist pumped and thrown it in John B's face. He pulled away to look at you and you quickly covered your face with your hands in shame and embarrassment as you tried to wipe the away your tears.

"Come on" he said, putting his arm around you and walking you towards the beach. He needed a damn minute to think.

Your tears turned into sniffles which had turned into ragged breaths by the time you reached the beach, making your way towards the ocean, leaning heavily on JJ as he held onto you.

You walked along the water in silence as you tried to catch your breath and think of what to say. You only had one day left and it felt like if you started talking now even that wouldn't be enough time to say everything you needed to say. You stopped abruptly and turned to him. It was now or never.

"I come from a lot of money, JJ. My family, my dad, our company, it's sort of a big deal where I come from" you squirmed with embarrassment, but knew he needed to hear the whole truth. "My fiancé - Carson-" you squirmed again. Saying his name here, with JJ, in this sacred place felt so wrong, sour on your tongue, but you pushed through, "-He's taking over the company. It's all arranged as part of our engagement, our wedding, so that it stays in the family. If I don't marry him, then we don't have a plan for the business when my dad retires. Carson has been working there for years now, they've already developed a succession plan, put out the press releases..." you continued to spiral, babbling on about the business, the consequences, like you were trying to convince yourself, maybe even convince JJ why this wasn't such an easy decision. You looked up at him and your heart sank at the complete confusion on his face. "You don't get it" you said, disappointed.

"Oh, I'm following you" he reassured you "but I haven't heard you say one thing about what you want. I hear loud and clear what your dad wants, what-" he grimaced, head cocked in anger "he wants" refusing to say your fiancé's name, "But, what about you?"

Your mind echoed back to the first conversation you had with your mother.

"Sweetheart, this isn't just about you."

"THIS IS ABOUT ME! THIS IS MY LIFE!" you had shouted.

And you realized JJ was the first person to acknowledge that you were squarely in the middle of this situation, that this was in fact about you. You hung your head.

JJ mustered his courage to ask the one question he didn't want to ask but desperately needed the answer to. The one with the power to save his life or crush his heart.

"Do you love him?" he murmured.

You were shaking your head before you could register your own movement. Like your body needed JJ to know the words you couldn't say out loud. You looked up at him, biting your lower lip, tears in your eyes again, shaking your head in earnest now as he looked at you like his heart was breaking and mending and breaking again in front of you.

"He's cheating on me" you said finally, the last piece of the puzzle sliding into place as you hung your head again.

"He what?" JJ said incredulously, his voice rising.

"He's cheating on me, sleeping with my best friend" you repeated, like he didn't hear you. You registered him walking away and looked up to see him pacing angrily away from you, hands on his head.

"JJ?" you said and he stopped walking, back still to you as he leaned over and cradled his head in his hands like he physically couldn't take the information you had just shared with him. After a moment, he stood up and walked back over to you.

"Princess" he said, his voice pleading with you as he took your face in his hands gently, emotion thick in his voice, squashing the anger simmering just under the surface. "I can't tell you what to do, I won't tell you what to do, you have enough people in your life doing that for you. All I can do is tell you how I feel because I've been trying to do it for the past week but didn't want to misread the situation. The first night I saw you I thought, no, I knew you were the most beautiful girl I had ever seen in my entire life. I told myself that if you even deigned to speak to me that I would do anything I could to make sure I put a smile on your face every day. That's what I've tried to do, to make you smile, to make you happy, to show you some fun, but along the way it became a whole lot more than that."

"JJ" you whispered, your bottom lip quivering.

He continued without pausing, "It wasn't enough just to go swimming together or go surfing or be out on the boat. I was craving you every moment we were apart, craving the chance to make you laugh, to be the reason there's a smile on those goddamn perfect lips, to see that twinkle in your eye, to grab your attention, even if it's to laugh at me or something stupid I said, I literally didn't care. I only have eyes for you... You know what I thought that day we were surfing and you thought there was something in the water?"

You shook your head.

"I thought that a shark could have bitten my leg off and I would have been the happiest guy in the world to spend my last damn moments on earth surfing with you, knowing that you were in my arms, that you felt safe in my arms, that you wanted to be in my arms" he choked up a bit at that. "That's not normal Y/N. Nothing I feel about you is normal. What we have isn't normal. It's fucking extraordinary. I'm falling in love with you, Y/N. Hard."

Tears slid down your cheeks as your lips continued to wobble. JJ pulled your face closer to his, now just inches away as he held your face in his palms, gently but firmly. He was biting his lower lip, eyes glancing at your lips.

You closed your eyes, pursing your lips. You felt him move forward when you whispered, "JJ, I can't, we can't. I'm engaged, and I won't do to him what he's done to me."

He sighed heavily as he rested his forehead against yours before pulling you back into his arms in a warm hug. He admired your morals and hated them at the same time.

"What are you going to do, princess?" he asked quietly after a few minutes.

"I don't know" you said, your voice barely a whisper as you hugged him closer. Willing the world to stop turning, so you didn't have to face tomorrow.

You wouldn't have wanted to spend your last morning anywhere else as you and JJ paddled out to surf. There was a thick tension in the air and an uncharacteristic seriousness about him that ebbed away but never fully disappeared as you fell into your normal rhythms, though this time it was you trying to make him laugh rather than the other way around. You could feel him looking at you closely as you bobbed in the waves, like he was trying to memorize you, afraid you would slip away.

You spent the rest of the day packing and going through the motions, in denial at the idea of leaving the place and the person that had become so special to you.

Your friends wanted to throw you a goodbye party at the chateau, which you managed to enjoy despite the circumstances. Your heart squeezed at the idea of leaving more than just the rolling beach, the morning surf and the blonde boy behind, but also a group of genuine friends, so drastically different than your so-called friends back at home.

JJ gave you a ride home that night. It felt fitting to spend your last night on the back of his bike, your bodies molded together comfortably as you leaned into him, resting your head on his back, hugging his abs with practiced ease. You had traded your dress and high heels for a damp bikini, shorts and one of his sweatshirts and you no longer worried about getting your hair tangled. A lot had changed in two weeks.

He rolled slowly up to your driveway, cutting off the engine but refusing to move, like if he didn't get off the bike, then he didn't have to say goodbye. You slid off the back, pulled off your helmet and shook out your hair like you'd been doing it the whole summer. JJ took off his own and let his eyes roam over you, the relaxed way your body moved, the sunburn on your nose from your days in the sun, the way you looked in his sweatshirt. He had told himself he was going to show you a good time and he had. If nothing else, he was happy to give you that, even if you didn't share his feelings. He got off the bike and looked down at you, smiling sweetly but sadly as he brushed his thumb over your cheek.

"I don't want to say goodbye" he said sadly.

You stomach churned with a guilt different from the one you had felt all week. You weren't guilty for the way you felt about JJ anymore. You were guilty for the look he had on his face right now, like you had taken this happy and carefree boy and run his heart over with his own bike.

"Please don't be sad" you said pleadingly.

"How can I not be sad?" he said with a bitter laugh, "You're leaving me."

"I'm not leaving you" you said pointedly. "I have to go home, I have to figure things out."

"And then what?" he pressed boldly, kicking himself at the fear and anger evident in his voice as he dropped his hand from your face.

"And then, I don't know!" you said, exasperated. "I'm doing the best I can, JJ. It's just a lot to figure out."

"Seems pretty simple to me" he said tartly.

You sighed in frustration.

"I'm sorry" he said quickly, "I don't want to fight with you. I'm just sad my surfing buddy is leaving" he joked, trying to lighten the mood as he leaned over to hug you. You curled into his arms, pressing your body firmly against his in a hug much more intimate than one shared with a friend as he nuzzled into your neck and the warmth of his breath tickled your skin. You swayed back and forth like that for a moment before you finally let go. You met his midnight blue eyes one last time as they drank you in. A sweet smile rested on his lips as he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your forehead. "Come back to me, princess" he said, stepping back and taking one last look at you before he hopped on his bike and rode down the street.

You managed to make it all the way to your room and into your bed before you cried loudly into your pillow, tugging his sweatshirt around you.

You were up early the next morning for your flight. When your alarm blared it felt like you hadn't slept more than an hour. You blearily showered and got dressed, stuffing JJ's sweatshirt deep into your suitcase before dragging it downstairs. You and your mom sipped your coffees in silence, trading glares over your mugs before you stepped outside to load up the car. You had wrangled your suitcase to the bottom of the stairs before you looked up and dropped your suitcase at your feet, your eyes transfixed on the single pink peony resting on the hood of your car. You ran over to, looking for a note and smiling when you didn't find one. You didn't need a note, you knew who it was from. You held it close to your chest like you could reach him through it. You finished packing the car and your mother pointedly ignored the flower as you tucked it into your purse.

The flight back home was uneventful but for the blanket of silence that rested over the two of you. The veil of the fun girls' getaway torn away to reveal the farce that it was.

So much had changed for you in the two weeks you were gone that you were surprised when you pulled into your driveway to see everything exactly as you'd left it. Your life had been flipped on its head, but this reality continued, unchanging. It felt like your house should have burned to the ground or that everyone around you should know what happened in the Outer Banks, but they didn't, they carried on and tugged you along with them in a whirlwind of dinner parties and wedding planning. You followed in dazed confusion, like a toddler aimlessly follows a parent. You touched the clothes in your closet, ran your hand over your kitchen counter like you were a stranger in your own home, like they belonged to someone else. This didn't feel like a part of you anymore.

JJ texted you relentlessly, and even tried calling, but you couldn't bring yourself to pick up and deleted the texts before reading them. You didn't want to torture yourself with something you could never have, as you felt everything you had with him slipping through your fingers.

Before you knew it, three weeks had passed. You felt like a zombie. Carson could tell something was off, even he wasn't that stupid. When he went to kiss you, you turned away and gave him your cheek instead, and when he reached for you in bed you rolled away and he also turned away, aggressive in his rejection. His touch made your skin crawl.

On the morning of the fourth week since you were back you were surprised to find a note on your bedside table when you woke up.

Come downstairs, I have a surprise for you ❤️

That shouldn't have made you gag. You wanted to roll over and go back to sleep, but you weren't sleeping well anyway. You pulled yourself up, groaning, tugging on your robe and slippers and padding downstairs to the kitchen. Your breath caught in your throat. Every surface had a bursting bouquet of pink roses. As Carson saw you enter the room, he handed you an iced latte from Starbucks. "Iced caramel latte and pink roses!" he said, clearly thrilled with himself. "Your favorites!" You looked down at the iced beverage, ice already half melted and looked around at the pink flowers, all the wrong type. You looked at your large kitchen with marble countertops and the open floorplan that poured into a designer-decorated living room as you thought about the single pink peony on your car. You sighed, tears rising up. You set the coffee down on the counter and turned to face Carson. You were scared. Terrified. You were making a cataclysmic life decision that you weren't sure you had the courage to make. You thought about the feeling of a dirt bike skidding out beneath your three-inch heels, you thought about dark choppy waves filled with sharks and jellyfish and slimy things that tickled your toes and then you thought about warm arms and a blonde-haired boy that promised you that if you had a little courage, everything was going to be okay. You reached for your ring and tugged it off your finger, placing it in Carson's hand.

It had been four weeks and John B didn't have it in him to tell JJ he had been right all along as he watched his best friend trudge through the days like he was sleepwalking. He was doing all of the JJ things with none of the JJ energy. He paddled out to surf with them but let wave after wave go by as he stared blankly out at the ocean, like he was hoping you would appear out of thin air. He went to parties and didn't touch a drop of alcohol. He smiled and laughed but none of it reached his eyes and when he thought no one was looking, he sunk quietly into himself, brows furrowed, hands running over his face, eyes fixed on his phone, willing it to ring.

Now JJ was kicked back at the chateau, laying in the hammock by himself in silence, staring out over the marsh.

"This is so depressing" Pope said as he looked over at him and the group nodded in agreement.

Sarah's phone chimed and she pulled it out of her pocket, her eyes quickly scanning the text as a grin spread on her face and she beckoned the group around her quietly.

As the night came to a close and everyone was getting ready to leave, Sarah shot John B a knowing look.

"Hey JJ - we surfin' our spot tomorrow?" he asked.

"I don't know, man" JJ said lazily as he rolled out of the hammock and trudged over to the group. "I might just stay in, get some sleep... you know..." he trailed off.

Sarah shot John B another look, urging him on.

"Come on, man, the waves are supposed to be tight with that storm rolling off Florida. Boys day!" he said, pointing at Pope.

"Y-yeah!" Pope said, picking up late on the hint, "Boys day, come on!"

"Fine, fine" JJ said, waving them off as he wandered over to his bike. "I'll see y'all in the morning." As the bike kicked up dust, John B and Pope pounded fists.

JJ barely managed to pull himself out of bed. He felt nauseous. Sick. He couldn't remember the last time he ate. That probably had something to do with it. The ache in his heart probably had more to do with it. He lazily pulled on a bathing suit off the floor, grabbed his board and hopped on his bike. He didn't want to be grilled for missing 'boys day', whatever that meant.

He was pissed to see he was the first one there as he trudged down to the water, sticking his board in the sand and flopping down onto his back, bringing an arm to cover his eyes from the early morning sun. He was so deep in his own head, he didn't hear the sound of the sand kicking up beside him.

"Laying alone in the sand at 6:00 in the morning, isn't a great way to meet people" a voice said.

He thought he was hallucinating as he shot up, eyes searching for the source of the voice and coming to land on you. You were in his favorite bikini, one hand covering your eyes from the sun as you smiled at him, one hand on your hip. He stood up so quickly he nearly lost his balance in the sand.

"Y/N?" he said, confusion and awe clear in his voice along with a thousand unspoken questions. What are you doing here? What does this mean? He was frozen to the spot, mouth opening and closing, clearly trying to string together a sentence when you flashed your left hand at him like you had the first night you met, letting the lack of a ring speak for itself. His eyes grew wide at the sight, his heart wanting so desperately to believe what his eyes could see.

Please don't let this be a dream. Please don't let this be a dream he thought as he walked towards you. When he finally placed his hands on either side of your face, when his fingers made contact with your warm skin, confirming you weren't a figment of his imagination, his smile was back as he grinned from ear to ear, eyes twinkling as he threw his head back and let out a loud "WOOOOO!" before scooping you into his arms and spinning you around. Your heart soared. He was like a little kid on a candy high as he spun you around and then took off for the water, sprinting into the ocean as you both laughed and tumbled into the waves together, momentarily losing your grasp on one another before you resurfaced and his arms reached out for you underwater, tugging you towards him again, your arms wrapping around his neck, your legs wrapping around his waist, your bodies perfectly molded to one another.

Something about being back in the water together where you had spent so much time stealing glances, brushing limbs and dancing around each other heightened the tension as your wet bodies pressed tightly together. All of him was pressed against all of you. You were hypersensitive to each other's touch; no longer forbidden, no longer secret. He ran his hand up your back and his thick arms encircled you, the simple touch mind-numbingly sexy after so much time apart. You brushed his damp hair off his forehead, letting your fingers tangle in his blonde locks, your faces inches from each other. He smiled at the feeling of your fingers in his hair. He couldn't wait any longer, he pulled you into him. He tasted like saltwater and sunscreen and summer. He kissed you deeply and passionately, a hand behind your head as he flicked his tongue against your lower lip and you let it curl into your mouth, reciprocating with your own. He pulled you impossibly closer to him as you bobbed in the waves together. You paused, trying to pull back. There was a lot you needed to say. "MmMm" he said, shaking his head against yours, refusing to break the kiss and instead kissing your deeper as he let his hands roam over your body. Your head was swimming, dizzy with his touch.

"JJ!" you managed to sneak out finally, taking his face in your hands, forcing him to look at you. "There's a lot I need to say."

"I think you're speaking loud and clear" he said, squeezing you and running a hand down to squeeze your ass, making you laugh as you slapped his shoulder playfully.

"I mean it!" you said, giggling, and he took the opportunity to kiss you again quickly. You took his face in your hands, tone serious. "I'm sorry I didn't see what was right in front of me. I-I was scared. Scared to walk away from what I knew even if it wasn't what I wanted. I know that might not make sense, but you gave me the courage to do it. To go after what I wanted for me, for my life."

He smiled, meeting your strong gaze with his, "Nah, princess, you did that all on your own."

"Well, if it wasn't abundantly obvious" you said, "I'm falling in love with you too, JJ Maybank. Hard." You could barely get the words out before he crashed his lips to yours again, capturing your smile with his own.

part two!

taglist: @ietss, @gillybear17, @palmwinemami, @sweetestdesire, @m-indkiller, @ashlaylayxd

[hollandorks]

haven

battinson! bruce wayne x f! reader

chapter six

Summary: After the sudden deaths of your mother and grandmother, you’re forced to return home to Gotham…and to the man who broke your heart three years ago. Back in Bruce Wayne’s inescapable orbit, you vow to get to the bottom of your former best friend’s new cold personality. But Bruce’s secrets aren’t what you’re expecting. a

a/n: Slowing down a little in this chapter and giving a fun bit of insight into their relationship! With angst, of course. This fic is so much fun to write, I'm glad to see that others are enjoying it too! Also not to beg but I'm begging you to comment, reblog with comments/ comments in the tags, or message/ send an ask if you like this fic. I literally live off of feedback and have been getting mostly likes and maybe 5-6 people commenting. Anyways, enjoy!

Series Masterlist

word count: 2.7k

She might be able to expose a mob conspiracy and the Batman’s identity in one fell swoop. 

It was all she could think of as Gordon drove her home.

Y/n was fourteen years old when she realized that she wanted to kiss Bruce Wayne. She had only recently realized that she wanted to kiss anyone at all, and for some reason, her mind kept going back to Bruce. 

She still remembered the exact moment. 

It was in that moment, too, that she realized she loved Bruce as a bit more than her best friend. 

They were doing homework in the study under Alfred’s watchful eye. It had only been a few years since the death of his parents and Bruce was slowly but surely shifting into the anger stage of grief. He’d gone from shy and scared and emotional to angry and sullen and withdrawn. 

As they worked, Bruce nudged her knee with his and nodded to where Alfred had dozed off. They shared a secret smile and immediately quit working–they’d start again once Alfred woke. They hadn’t needed to say a word to communicate. Almost ten years of being friends had given them a silent language. 

And as the buttery golden afternoon light poured through the window and lit Bruce’s face, she felt it. 

Bruce was just going through puberty, his voice cracking and deepening, his body growing to that gangly, awkward height of teenage boys. She knew he was becoming a man. The thought always made a little swoop go through her stomach.

As he smiled that secret smile, she studied him. His lips looked chapped but, at fourteen, she’d never seen anything more alluring. 

She realized that he never smiled at anyone, even Alfred. Especially Alfred. And not her sweet, patient grandmother either, who easily coaxed smiles from y/n even when she was in the worst of teenage moods. 

Bruce only smiled for her. 

It was that realization that made her heart want to lay a claim to him. Quietly yet suddenly, her love for Bruce shifted into something more. And she wanted to kiss the smile from his lips like the bold women in the romantic comedies she liked. 

But it wasn’t until she was sixteen that she had her first kiss with a boy. And he hadn’t been Bruce Wayne. 

Two weeks after that, she had her first kiss with a girl to see if she liked that better. 

But the girl hadn’t been Bruce Wayne either. 

And every kiss after that, boy or girl or otherwise, was not Bruce Wayne, and it never measured up. She’d never kissed him, ever, in their entire lives together, but her heart knew that it would never want anything or anyone else. 

Kissing Bruce wasn’t what y/n dreamt that night, though, after she got home from her secret meeting with a cop and a vigilante. 

No, it was the last time she had slept in Bruce’s bed. 

As children, they had been almost like security blankets to each other. She had been only five years old when her mother had abandoned her for good and she had come to live at Wayne Tower with her grandmother. Her first nightmare woke her to a tiny face with bright blue eyes surrounded by wild, dark hair. 

“I have scary dreams too,” he’d whispered and then scooched up on her bed. They played with the dinosaur toys he’d brought with him until they fell asleep, side by side. It was as easy as that. She and Bruce became inseparable. Often they would sneak into each others’ rooms and play with various toys until falling asleep. 

And after the murder of the Waynes…most nights they spent together, two children seeking safety and comfort with each other in the way only children knew how. For three years, Bruce couldn’t sleep without her. 

But, as they grew older, Alfred and Dory forbade it, saying it wasn’t proper. They’d each, separately, gotten the birds and the bees talk. 

They were eighteen, a week from graduation, the last time it happened. By that age, y/n had harbored her secret crush for four years. She struggled to maintain that fine line between remaining his best friend and acting normal, and soaking up all of the attention he would give her like a plant left in the dark for too long searching for sunlight. 

That was back in his street racing days, where he invented new ways to make cars go faster then took to the streets to test them out. Alfred had caught him sneaking out that night and Bruce was angry. Too angry. She listened to them argue until she heard Bruce’s bedroom door slam and then slam again. 

So she’d ordered one of every kind of pizza (with his card of course, nice and new for his eighteenth birthday) and dug out all of the soda and snacks both salty and sweet she could find. They were going to have a movie night, and all of Bruce’s favorites would be featured. She had found over the years that Bruce could be cheered by unhealthy snacks and quiet company. Her other option was to create a distraction so he could actually sneak out, but she was selfish and wanted to spend time with him before college changed their lives. 

It took him a while to settle down and stop pacing and cursing, but finally, finally, he got sucked into the movie. Within an hour, he had given in and relaxed. 

It was one of those moments, frequent throughout her life, where he smiled just for her, and she fell a little bit more in love. 

The dream she was having at that moment wasn’t exactly right with the details. In the way of dreams, everything was slightly off, the proportions wrong, the specifics muddled. The food was blurry, incorporeal, the TV too close to the ceiling. The bed took up most of the room when in reality the room itself was huge.

But the feeling? The feeling was the same. 

She was in Bruce’s arms. He was a clinger when he slept, like she was a teddy bear that soothed him. In a way, she was, simply because of the habit formed in childhood. 

In the dream, she was safe once more in the haven of his arms. His breath tickled the hairs on the back of her neck and he was so, so warm. In life, she had rolled away because being too close to him had been almost painful in how right it felt. 

In the dream, she curled closer. 

She had missed their easy closeness. Even after they stopped sharing a bed, they had hugged or spoken in nudges or touches like the best friends they were. It was another of those things like his smiles that he reserved only for her. 

All that had stopped three years ago. 

Now, safe in the dream, y/n burrowed into Bruce’s comforting warmth. 

She felt whole. 

The grief, the pain, all of it was gone as his arms tightened around her. 

When she woke, her cheeks were wet. 

She and Bruce would never share that closeness again. Now, with the benefit of hindsight, she could see that that final night was the beginning of the end. College had further separated them, though the years after had made them close again. 

So close that she had felt confident in spilling her biggest secret. 

Only to have her heart broken. 

She was struck with the sudden need to see Bruce, to tell him she was sorry, to tell him she missed him, to tell him she forgave him for those awful words spoken between them. She wanted to be friends again. Even if it hurt. Even if he never loved her like she loved him. 

I don’t love you, and I never will. 

But he had loved her as a friend, once, and maybe still did. Maybe things weren’t ruined–maybe, with enough time, enough effort, they could be patched. 

Any alternative was better than her current reality. She couldn’t live next to him like strangers, ignoring their shared past. She couldn’t stop loving him, even if she only ever got to do so as a friend. 

She shoved her blankets away and rose unsteadily to her feet. She was still half-asleep, her brain sluggish, her eyes heavy. 

She couldn’t stop crying. 

She wanted, for a moment, to not feel so alone. 

She wandered to Bruce’s room first, but it was dark and empty. She couldn’t bring herself to enter completely the site of her heartbreak, so she searched the study next, where he could sometimes be found curled up with a book or tuning his guitar. Then she looked in the kitchen and all of the guest rooms. 

His parents’ room was still padlocked, as it had been for two decades, and she knew he wasn’t in there. 

Nothing in the library or gym, either, or the room with a desk he had named his office but never used. 

Nothing but dust and ghosts in the entire place. 

She just needed to see him. Just needed to tell him that she forgave him. Just needed him to tell her they could be friends again. Just needed him to tell her that he didn’t hate her. 

There was only one place left to search. 

She hadn’t been in Bruce’s private elevator in a long time. His elevator was for his use only, more private than even the private residential elevator. There were three destinations–the residence, a private exit to the parking garage, and the basement. 

In their late teens and early twenties, when Bruce was into modifying cars and racing them illegally, he had converted the abandoned Wayne Terminus station into a garage of sorts. Last she had seen it–maybe eight or ten years before–he had three cars all in varying stages of disarray. 

She pressed the button to take her down into the very depths of Wayne Tower. 

Nothing happened. 

She pressed it again. And again. 

She frowned. 

As far as she knew, this was the only way into that garage except for a secret tunnel that had been part of the old subway line. It opened miles away, though, and she had never been out that way. She wouldn’t even know where to start looking if she decided to try to find the end of it. 

She thumped a closed fist beside the panel and cursed colorfully. 

Could nothing go her way? It was thing after thing after thing the past few days and it all caught up with her when that stupid elevator button didn’t work. 

She didn’t fight the tears. 

It was all too much. Too much pain, too much loss, too much fear, too much everything. It had been the worst fucking week of her life and even the potential of her article wasn’t enough to temper it. She had survived, but at what cost? To have no one, nothing? To be murdered at some future date? To have a fucking mob hit out on her? 

The worst part was that she didn’t want to die, even though it would have been so much easier. 

Y/n sobbed and slid to the cold metal floor of the elevator. 

“Fuck,” she mumbled as she tapped the floor with her knuckles. She remembered the pain of the night Bruce broke her heart, as if it had been carved out, how she’d had to wrap her arms around her middle so as not to fall apart. That pain was back, but worse this time, because her grandmother wasn’t there to put her back together. 

She just wanted–she didn’t know what she wanted. She wanted things the way they used to be, before that night three years ago. She wanted her grandmother alive and her whole life ahead of her and Bruce to still be her friend. 

But she knew it was naive. Everything had changed and there was no way out except through. 

Yet how could she get through this? She drew up her knees and tucked her head down. How could she get through this without her best friend? Without her grandmother? Her life was at risk and she had nothing but the flimsiest bit of protection that Wayne Tower provided. She had no one to talk to, no one to make her feel better. 

The only thing she could do was investigate things herself. She could only get herself out of this mess. She only had herself to rely on now. 

The thought hurt. She cried on the floor of that small, dingy elevator for a long time. She cried for the girl she used to be. She cried for her grandmother. For her mother. For the loss of Bruce as a friend. For the fear that haunted her now. 

Her eyes fluttered open later as she felt herself moving through the air. 

It must have been a dream, because she was in Bruce Wayne’s arms. He glanced down at her with tired blue eyes. His dark hair was lank with sweat and plastered to his forehead, halfway in his eyes. Her eyes slid closed before she could focus on the darkness around the blue. 

It was a nice dream, especially after the overwhelming grief that had crippled her in the elevator. Her subconscious needed the comfort. 

She nuzzled her head into Bruce’s warm neck and hummed. He smelled like sweat and motor oil and Bruce. His heart thumped steadily in her ear where she rested her head. 

“I miss you,” she murmured, content in the fact that it wasn’t real. She could tell dream Bruce anything she wanted. 

But he was so warm, and she was so tired. 

She drifted off again.  

–

When y/n woke again, she was in her own bed. 

She stretched languidly. She could immediately tell she’d slept deep and well for once. 

Then she sat bolt upright. 

She had fallen asleep in the elevator, not her bed. 

Hadn’t she? 

She frowned. Maybe getting up and searching for Bruce had been the dream. The entire night had edges fuzzy with grief and exhaustion. Maybe she had searched for Bruce and fallen asleep in the elevator, only to walk back to bed half asleep. 

The only thing she knew for sure was that Bruce Wayne hadn’t carried her to bed. There was no way that had been real. Because only someone who still cared for her would carry her back to bed, tuck her in gently. And Bruce didn’t care for her anymore. 

Her heart ached all over again. 

She missed him. 

To keep her mind off of it, she decided to go ahead and get together an update and outline for her new editor Jansen. She didn’t have much, but she included the new knowledge of one suspect’s supposed suicide. After a quick search, she saw that the news hadn’t been released to the press yet. Score one for Gordon as an informant. 

The word informant rang a bell in her mind and she quickly searched her personal email for a response from Officer Martinez. 

Dear y/n, 

Thank you for reaching out. I’m real sorry you haven’t been doing well. I can promise that Lieutenant Gordon is the best there is for this case and he’ll do everything he can to catch the guy. 

One suspect committed suicide rather than tell us anything about the one who got away. But another one seemed scared by that and told us that the Gallo family had sent them. Maybe you’ve heard of them–New York mobsters. 

If you feel scared at all or see anything suspicious, here’s my cell number. I’ll also include Lieutenant Gordon’s in case you can’t reach me. 

We’ll keep you safe.

Best, 

Officer Martinez

It was a professional but sweet response. 

And it scared her.

Confirmed ties to the Gallo family didn’t bode well for her. For Gotham, either. That meant they were reaching into the city, trying to fill the holes that Falcone left behind. 

She cursed quietly and added that to her list of clues. 

She rubbed her eyes. She hadn’t even had coffee yet. 

First, she needed caffeine. 

Then she needed to make a plan to figure out what the hell was going on. 

If only it were that simple. She had no contacts or sources in Gotham–at least none that would be able to tell her about the Gallo family. 

All she had was an eager cop, a detective, and the detective’s vigilante best friend. 

She hoped it would be enough.

Next Chapter

taglist:

@ktficworld @grunge-n-roses5 @anon-cat-posts @projectdreamwalker @warsaur @lachillona02 @crazyunsexycool @doetic @alexiris @that-girl-named-alex @harry-bowie-mercury @vaniasagitaa @widows-writings @missing-loki @exactlyelegantwizard

[palmtreepalmtree]

Today when we were walking around, I offered to take my mom's purse from her. She had idly complained about the weight after a couple hours, and I could tell it was starting to get to be too much for her. My mom laughed and said she had been about to ask my 14-year-old niece to take it.

My niece made a protesting noise, then looked at me and asked why I couldn't take the purse. I responded that she was young and able-bodied. To which she responded, 'You're able-bodied!'

I wish I could say I took the opportunity to teach her about invisible disability. I wish I could say that I told her I injured my back ten years ago and it will never heal. That it's why I left my own purse in the car and just shoved my ID, my credit card, and a wad of cash in my pants pocket. That my back had already been hurting for the last hour, because that's just what it does. But that I love my mom, her grandmother, and I don't want her back to hurt, so I was willing to take a turn carrying her purse.

Instead, the shock of being called 'able-bodied' by a fourteen-year-old just bowled me over so hard, I missed the moment.

She still carried the purse, but she had to be told by her own mom.

I pretty much always miss these moments with my nieces where they're just kids being kids, but they say something that shocks me so hard I don't respond the way I later wish I had. But probably for the best so I don't wind up as lecturing Auntie palmtree. Still, it's almost 11pm, and I'm thinking about it now.

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Sky Full of Stars - Chapter Twenty Two.

Previous chapters - One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven Twelve Thirteen Fourteen Fifteen Sixteen Seventeen Eighteen Nineteen Twenty Twenty One

Tag list - In the comments

Words - 3,944

Warnings - 18+ content throughout. Minors DNI!

January 23rd, 2016. Cleveland, NY. 

The soft patter of snow, the contented snorting of horses as they ate their breakfast and the clucking of hens. These were the only noises that reached Adrien’s ears as he enjoyed a peaceful morning in his studio, standing back from the large canvas he was working on, deciding where to begin as he drank his tea. Until he heard a third, the studio door opening behind him.  

“How’s Saxon’s hoof looking this morning, baby love?”  

Her beloved Friesian horse, a black giant with a mane that touched his shoulder, had been lame for a week. The root cause? An infected hoof that needed drawing with a poultice twice daily, the stench of the black gunk that ended up in the special hoof boot the foulest thing he’d ever smelled. Poor Mia. She was bereft without her playmate out there in the paddock with her, too, kicking up her heels in the snow with no buddy to charge around with since Saxon was on stable rest. 

“Jade?”  

Turning, he saw her moving towards him, her eyes glazed over, mouth hanging slightly agape. “Honey, you look a little...” he trailed off, trying to catch her eye. Nothing. It was as if somebody had reached in and removed her brain, replacing it with a slow-moving hamster on a wheel.  “Are you okay?”  

The lights were on, but Jade Brody was not home.  

“Moo, before I have to shake you?”  

As it turned out, she was capable of shaking herself. “Sorry, baby. I just... I’m...” 

He nodded, winding his hand in a circular motion. “Those are some words. Care to add a few more?” 

“I... I...” She was still partially stuck in daze mode, so stunned, she had truly been rendered speechless. “I just heard the Oscars nominations, and Five Marked Men more or less swept the board.” 

“It did?” he spoke, his face brightening. “Well, of course it fucking did. It’s an amazing movie!”  

“Yeah, yeah,” she continued, “best picture, best original score, best production design, best director, best actor nomination to Robert De Niro, and best actress in a supporting role nomination... to me.”  

His eyes almost fell out of his head. “Holy shit! Holy fucking shit, Jade! This is huge! Oh, my god, come here!” He threw his arms around her, lifting her up, laughing with utter delighted joy. “I’m so proud of you, Burtie!”  

Finally, she began to smile, but still looked to be in a state of shock. “How... how the hell did I do this? I can’t even... it isn’t processing!”  

He remembered that well. “It didn’t with me either. I remember hearing I’d been nominated and thinking they’d made a mistake, had the biggest case of imposter syndrome right up until I was actually walking towards the stage to accept the award.”  

“Yeah, yeah but you’re an amazing actor who had seventeen years of this behind him when he won! I’m just some bird from Tottenham who shouts a lot and decided to do this on a whim one day!” 

He raised an eyebrow. “One day about, hmm, seventeen years ago this year?” 

“Bloody hell.” 

“I am so proud of you, baby love,” he spoke, placing her back down and giving her a huge kiss. 

“Bloody hell!” 

“Are we stuck on bloody hell mode?” he teased, his wife’s mouth dropping open, closing, and then repeating all over again. 

“Bloody hell.” 

He couldn’t keep his laughter in, not able to remember a time he’d seen her look more stunned than she did right at that moment. “Burtie, your ass is ringing.”  

Shaking herself, she pulled her phone out, putting it on speaker. There wasn’t even chance to say hello before the verbal explosion hit her.  

“Skippy! You fucking superstar, oh my fucking god I am screaming!” 

“As I hear,” she just about got chance to say, Jen’s excitement vibrating the speaker of her iPhone.  

“Congratulations! I swear, you’ve won it, it’s you! You were perfect in that movie, made a tough ole’ boot like me cry, y’know? Made me feel all the damned emotions, so yeah, and I’m blabbing but I can’t think straight because my best fucking friend got nominated for an Oscar and oh my god!” 

“Jen, my ears, darlin’?” she was just about able to make out, the sound of a slightly deafened Nick in the background. “Jade! Congrats, babe! This one here hasnae been able to stop screaming about it yet!” 

“As I hear, mate!” she laughed, she and Adrien leaving the studio and walking back around to the house, hand in hand.  

“Ahh, well I’ll leave you and the missus to it, like. Gotta head out in all this bastard fucking snow and buy milk because my fucking wifey here cannae remember shite! Laters, hon.” 

Yes, a few things were different in her surrounding world, one of the main changes being that Jen had finally met Mr Right. Nick Anderson had come into her life as a brand-new drum tech two years prior, when the girls had embarked on another world tour back in twenty fourteen, the pair hitting it off so well that they’d ended up together quite quickly. Two impossibly energetic people with huge, lovely personalities who thrived on beating the hell out of a drumkit. They were perfect for one another and had married just eight months before right there at Stone Barn Castle.  

Originally hailing from the small skiing town of Aviemore in Scotland, he’d moved out to America ten years before with the first Mrs. Anderson, their marriage not lasting for long after the move. A number of factors had put the death knell upon it, the main one being what was actually a draw to Jen; he didn’t want children. Neither did she, no matter how much she genuinely adored small people, they just weren’t for her.  

Speaking of small people, Jade had to get moving pretty soon after entering the house and having another coffee, still reeling from the shock news but having a full day ahead of her. Her sister, her husband Chris and their two children were coming up to stay for a few days, Jade tasked with driving to Syracuse to collect them from the airport.  

While that coffee was sipped at, she was studied, Jade catching his eye across the island. “What?” 

“Are you going to be okay to drive? Because I know the snow isn’t too bad and the roads are clear and all that, but I’m kinda anxious you might space out and end up wrapping your car around a tree. I neither want a banged-up wife nor for her to smash the hell out of her new ride.” He’d rather she didn’t either, not just because he obviously didn’t want an injured wife on his hands, but damn, a custom detailed Audi Q7 did not come cheap. 

She paused, narrowing her eyes over the steam emitting her coffee cup. “You care more about the car than me, don't you? Dented wife you can handle. Dented wallet, not so much.” 

“Damn,” he fumed playfully, clicking his fingers, “she got me.” Lifting his chin, the entertainment played on his face, guffawing when he raised her middle finger. “Oh, don’t be like that, baby love. With your goddamned talons.” 

She’d decided to give herself a manicure, her own fairly short nails all hidden beneath the long, pointy claws glued on and painted a neutral shade of nude pink. “You didn’t complain about them when they were buried in your back last night.” 

“Nope, you know I like a little scratching. I’m still nervous about them coming near my junk, though.” Nervous was somewhat of an understatement. When she’d shown him her literal handiwork, the first words out of his mouth had been ‘there’s no way in hell I’m letting you near my dick with those. No way. I’m already circumcised; I ain’t looking to lose any more.’ She’d made sure to be very careful while handling the goods later the previous night, yet he’d still flinched a few times.  

At least the animals of the Brody household appreciated the fact that their mom now came with the best scratching implements, though, the cats thriving, the dogs enjoying an ear scratch, and Mia and Saxon both appreciating the scritches they’d received that morning as she’d groomed them both.  

Making a flexing motion with her hand, she aimed it at his crotch, walking around the island to him, Adrien reversing at speed. “Stop this, no, Jade!” 

“I can be gentle. See?” she spoke, grabbing his arm and gently raking her nails over the bulge in his jeans. “See? It’s all tickly on your balls. He likes. Look at the face!”  

He still looked a little uncomfortable, finally relaxing when he did realise it wasn’t unpleasant. “Mmm. Prefer your mouth.” Leaning to her, his lips met hers, grumbling happily as their tongues entwined, feeling his cock beginning to stir. “How much time do you have before you leave?” 

“Not enough for what you’re thinking, so you’re going to have to simmer, Mr. B.” 

He bit her lip with an annoyed growl. “Cock tease.” 

“Well, you knew this right from the moment we first met,” she reasoned, patting his abs and picking up her bag. “You can wait until later.” 

More growling. “Not even five minutes? There’s a lot a man can achieve in five minutes.”  

She paused, thoughtful, moving his hair and kissing the side of his neck. He’d grown it long, and god, how she loved it. “Save it for later.” Running her nails over his chest, she tickled his cock again, trailing them down to his thighs and then around to his bum before ascending his back once more, leaving him quivering. “Because later, I will follow everywhere my nails just went with my tongue.”  

Kissing him again, she left him standing there burning, muttering to himself. He had thought that perhaps the sexual magic of her might wane a little after just over six years together, but it truly showed no signs of abating. True, they weren’t all over one another quite as often as they had been right in the fledgling stages of their relationship, but mostly that was because of their careers putting distance between them.  

The fact that they couldn’t be together all of the time seemed to have kept the spark burning very brightly, he had to note. Even when she made his flicker and then walked away, just as she’d done that morning. He knew her game, though, getting him all amped up so it’d be in the back of his head all day. While she departed, he went down to the stables, a saddle and bridle in his arms, approaching a very happy looking Mia. 

“Yes, we’re going out. Come on, pretty face. Back up.” Moving her away from her stable door as he entered, he placed the saddle onto the door itself, putting her bridle on first. Between Jade herself and Bob when they were at their house in England, over the past few years he’d grown to become quite a competent horseman, even buying one for himself.  

Shamrock, also known as ‘that bastard animal’ lived over the other side of the pond in England, a huge, seventeen hands high former racehorse Adrien had found and loved, despite his predisposition to misbehave. He’d lost count of the number of times the nine-year-old steed had bolted with him, but if anything, it had made him a much more competent rider, having to get used to something so whip smart and predisposed to acting out.  

Riding Mia was a completely different ballgame, though, the horse more like a well-behaved sofa, as he often likened her. She was impeccably mannered and comfortable as hell to ride, Adrien jumping onto her back and gathering the reins, whistling for his dogs. It’d be a nice, sedate ride, not having to wonder about when the horse he was aboard was about to start huffing and puffing, jogging around or rearing up, all of which he did with Sham. Mia remained as much of a lamb as always. 

By the time his wife had returned, he was freshly showered and thawed out, coming into the kitchen as they were entering, having his favourite tiny person running for him as soon as she spotted him. 

“Uncle Adween!” At only fifteen months old, Stevie was still getting used to speech, some words beyond her grasp. Even her own name.  

“Beevs!” he laughed, lifting her into his arms and kissing her cheek, blowing a raspberry that had her squealing. She was commonly known at Beevs, Beevie or The Beev, being that she couldn’t pronounce Stevie. Jade she could say properly, but to her was aunt shouty, pronounced more as ‘showteeeee’. It still cracked him up. “How are you?” 

“Is cold and I no like it,” she told him, cuddling into his warmth as he greeted Chris with a one-armed hug.  

“Oh look, see look at this, being all cute for your uncle when you were a monster on the flight!” he spoke, shaking his head. 

“I no monsfer! I cute!” Oh yes, she was. Until she wasn’t. Until she was, as her father coined it, doing her best tiny Lucifer impersonation.  

“Kid, you are hell in a dress,” Rachel spoke, greeting Adrien with a big hug and kiss. “Look at this hair, bro! Woah! Suits you,” she then added, giving his curls a little comb with her fingers.  

“Thanks, Rach,” he replied, before having his ear bended by the incessant chatter of his tiny niece, his nephew Reece thumping against his leg after running for him, Adrien bending to lift him onto his other arm.  

“Can we go see the horses, uncle Adrien? Please?” At four, his speech was flawless, making his demands known in very good voice. “Please, please, please?” 

“Hey, quit nagging, tiny,” his mother advised, pinching his cheek, “we only just got here and already you’re starting with the overlord antics.” 

Reece looked thoughtful, cuddling his uncle, hiding beneath his hair. “But can we?” 

“And the chances of you shutting up until I say yes are?” he asked. 

The child made a tiny gap between his thumb and forefinger. “This much!” 

Replicating the gesture, he smiled, kissing his head. “Alright. Let’s go.” 

While her husband ventured back out with the kids, her sister and brother-in-law heading upstairs to get situated in one of the guest bedrooms, Jade made a start on lunch, chopping vegetables and taking the pre-shredded roasted chicken she’d cooked the previous night from the fridge, chicken noodle soup on the menu. Once they’d eaten, the kids were once again full of energy and soup, tearing around the garden with their daddy and uncle, Jade and Rachel watching from beside the fire in the kitchen.  

“He’s great with them,” the latter spoke, nodding at where Adrien was assisting with the building of a snowman. “He’ll make an amazing daddy someday.” 

Jade hummed, her mouth tilting upwards. “Hopefully sooner rather than later.” 

Oh, how she loved to just casually drop such news into conversation. “Oh my god, really? You didn’t tell me!” her sister cried, reaching to slap her knee playfully a few times. “Since when?” 

“Not long,” she confessed, sipping her latte. “I stopped taking my pill in October, but between not seeing him and never working out when I’m ovulating with any kind of accuracy, it hasn’t happened for us just yet.” 

“Don’t expect it to either,” Rachel warned lightly with a pointed finger, “I know we’re a fertile people, but still, it was seven months of trying for us before I got pregnant with Reece.” 

A fertile people was an understatement, with how fast their mother had become pregnant, and the rate their uncle’s had populated the family with their cousins, fifteen of them in total. Rachel herself had become pregnant with Stevie remarkably quickly, too. Well, it had been Stevie and her twin, but sadly the foetus had died at only a few weeks in. 

“Oh no, I’m not. We’re being fairly casual about it all, more like if it happens soon then great, but we’re not putting any pressure on ourselves.” Jade confirmed with a casual wave of her hand.  

While she and Adrien weren’t in a hurry, for years they’d been the focus of the public and media wondering why year after year passed and they hadn’t decided to have children. Truly, it was nobody else’s business, why they’d chosen to focus on their careers and their marriage before adding children to the equation, and that was the simple truth of the matter. People could think whatever the hell they liked, and usually it was a million miles from the truth.  

‘I will never understand why it is that society puts this enormous pressure upon couples to procreate within a certain time frame, or at all. It’s a perfectly valid choice to remain child free if that’s what you both want. My husband and I do want children one day, but us not starting a family yet is seen as something alien, that we desire to devote our time to each other and our careers. We’re both still young, we have plenty of time, yet our stance is seen as abnormal for some reason.’ 

Those were the words she gave in an interview just a year before when speaking with the journalist about the fact that they’d been child free for the duration of their five years, as it was at the time. The woman speaking with her was in staunch agreement, too, that the societal pressures for married couples to have children with an expected time frame was quite frankly ridiculous.  

“I have to say though, Rach,” Jade began, her eyebrows fluttering as a smile spread across her lips. “That baby making sex does hit different.” 

“Right?” her sister chimed, nodding vigorously. “Always does with men. Procreation horny is different, and I can’t explain why, but it is!” 

“Sends ‘em feral,” she agreed, looking out at Adrien approvingly. “All I have to say to him is, ‘get over here and put a baby in me’ and the speed he moves at,” she giggled, making a rapid motion with her finger coupled with a sharp whistle, Rachel in soft fits.  

“Oh, one thing, though? If you do start to seriously begin tracking your ovulation, don’t make it all about the baby making when you do have sex, because the novelty of it can wear off quickly and it becomes really focused on the procreation part, rather than the enjoyment. That put a dent in us for a while, back when we were trying to conceive Reece.” 

“Becomes a little mechanical, huh?” 

Rachel pointed, crossing her legs as she sat back in the armchair, Salem jumping onto her lap. “Yes, that’s exactly it and trust me, big sis. It dampens the spark as much as a few gallons of cold water.”  

Her advice was noted.  

“If you do want to go down that road, though, use an ovulation tracker app. Just put your details in, date of your last period, etc, and it calculates it all for you and then sends an alert when you start ovulating. Here, this is the one I used.”  

Taking her sister’s phone, she had a look at it, picking up her phone and downloading it before entering all of her info. “Oh blimey,” she exclaimed, resting a hand to her chest, “right now until tomorrow morning.” 

“Well, there you have it, but please, get those eggs fertilized quietly. I cannot with hearing the acoustics of my sister having sex. Not again.” 

Jade winked, flashing a grin of teeth. “I make no promises.” 

“Bleugh. Deviant.”  

“You have no idea,” she teased, Rachel’s eyes widening. 

“I fucking do! Mom told me all about the hook!” 

It might have happened five years ago, but god, how it still made her laugh. She couldn’t be in the kitchen pantry without having a little snort, remembering Adrien hiding in there after being stalked by her mother. “You have no idea how embarrassed he was. He’s so cute! He can be an absolute beast in the bedroom, and you just wouldn’t think it because he’s so quiet and nice.”  

“I’d rather not think of my brother-in-law like that at all.” she shuddered, sending her sister into another fit of giggles. Beyond a few little inquiries back when they first got together, Rachel was definitely more like her father where the topic of sex was concerned.  

Marco, on the other hand, had wanted to know everything. ‘So, what’s he packing? How many inches? Cut or uncut? Don’t you dare be holding out on me! I have to know the dick details! I’ve fantasised about this man!’ Yes, her brother had definitely been more uncouth at the time. He also flirted shamelessly with Adrien whenever he saw him, who took it all in his stride.  

Changing the subject, they instead talked more about their lives, Rachel once again relaying just how proud she was, that her beloved big sister had been nominated for an Oscar. Even hours after it had been announced, the news was still yet to sink in any further. Later that night, the house quiet, everyone in bed and Jade sitting up being her usual night owl self, it still hadn’t.  

“Baby love? You okay?”  

She had gone to bed, but that had been at 1am. After riding her husband into the bed and sending him into a deep sleep, she’d struggled dropping off at his side. Apparently, the sleep he’d found hadn’t been deep enough not to notice when she’d gotten up quietly half an hour later.  

“Yeah, gorgeous. Yeah, I’m fine. Just can’t seem to switch my brain off,” she replied, Adrien moving behind where she sat at the island on her laptop, wrapping his arms around her. “I’m still struggling to believe it’s real.” 

He could identify with that. “It’ll sink in, eventually. You have to know you’ve earned it, though, don’t you? Seriously, I’m not just saying it but I think it’s your best role to date. You deserve it.” Kissing her cheek, he rested her chin to his shoulder, looking at the screen. “Remember when I used to tell you, when we were going through never ending shit, how it’d get better? Well, better is here. It’ll be even better if you buy that underwear in black, too. Use my card.” 

In times of feeling a little out of sorts, whether good or bad, she shopped. On that particular night, it was the Bordelle website, her favourite lingerie brand. “It only comes in gold or dark blue. Which would you rather I’m wearing while you come in me?”  

Her dirty wit. How he loved it. “Definitely blue.” Reaching for the bowl of keys and general things to the side of the island, he grabbed his Amex card, handing it to her with a kiss. His eyes were then distracted by the next page. “Get those, too. Oh damn, and that.” 

“In red?” 

His smile widened. “Mm.”  

“Is this getting you all horny again?” 

Wrapping his arms around her again, she felt the evidence press against her spine. How the hell he was still so down to fuck at the drop of a hat – or the sight of sexy underwear, as it was – at nearly forty-two, she didn’t know. Okay, so he wasn’t exactly past it just yet, still young, but even still. He had the refresh rate of a guy half his age. She wasn’t averse to it, though. Obviously. 

After all, they had a baby to make.  

[mymoonagedaydream]

Part 11

Pairing: Biker!Bucky x y/n

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: Language, anti-religious sentiment throughout

Author's Note: Apologies, long delay on this one, got back from London a few days ago and oh my fuck I was exhausted. Kudos to anyone that lives there man I could not hack it at all.

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Part 10

---

Your parents’ voices only faded into the distance once the two of you had turned the corner. You couldn’t help periodically glancing over your shoulder, convinced that you’d eventually catch sight of a sprinting, fiercely angry, middle-aged bitch wielding a modestly heeled shoe in one hand while her golden crucifix pendant slapped against her sunken chest. Your mother would make a damn good horror movie villain. 

Bucky was quiet. You didn’t sense any anger from him, he wasn’t squeezing your hand particularly tight or stomping his boots against the ground any harder than usual, he just seemed deep in thought. Was this… progress?

He unlocked the street-level door and hoisted both of your suitcases up the stairs, disappearing into the darkness at the top before you’d even had a chance to cross the threshold. By the time you’d made it into the apartment, your clothes were littered all over the place and he was yanking a pair of your best underwear up over his jeans.

“The hell are you doing?”

“I like these.”

“Yeah? It’s a shame you’ve stretched them beyond all recognition, then.”

“I didn’t mean on you.”

You gave him an unimpressed frown and moved to snatch them off him, but he was a slippery little fucker when he wanted to be, making you chase him around the front room for a good ten minutes before you managed to get a decent grip on your property. They were pretty much unusable by this point, but it was a matter of principle. 

You were pretty shocked at how good a mood he seemed to be in. You’d expected fireworks, maybe an hour-long tirade about how much of a fuckin’ asshole your dad was and how he should’a laid him out on his own lawn, but it almost seemed like he’d forgotten the whole ordeal. Maybe he didn’t see the old man as enough of a challenge for a full-on brawl? Or maybe he’d finally realised that it just wasn’t worth it? Whatever the reason was, you weren’t about to question it. 

You debated properly unpacking all your clothes but eventually reasoned that you were moving soon, so there was really no point putting the extra strain on Bucky’s rickety old wardrobe that could barely manage the weight of his three t-shirts and two pairs of jeans. Instead, you spent the next couple of hours tangled up with him on the couch. It was so nice just being able to relax and decompress after such a shitty situation, usually you’d be arguing or cleaning his wounds. Hopefully this would be the new norm. 

You were slowly drifting off, letting the stress of the day melt from your body, when Buck unceremoniously jolted you back to consciousness by jumping up and proclaiming his next great idea.

“Alright,” he started to pace, “there’s gotta be somewhere nice in this stinking town. I’m gonna take you out on a proper date.”

“A proper date?”

“Yeah, somewhere fancy. S’about time I treat you how you deserve to be treated.”

“You don’t have to do that, Buck. I’m happy with takeout on the couch.”

“I know you are, but you gotta let me spoil you sometimes.”

A warm, sleepy smile spread across your face. “Sounds good.”

“You’re damn right it does,” he reached out an arm, abruptly dragging you off the couch and towards the bedroom, “c’mon, let’s get you dressed.”

—

You kept trying to guess your destination from the route Bucky was taking but you came up blank, the only time you’d ever been to this part of town was when you were fourteen and your dad brought you along to collect a life-sized, wooden virgin Mary statue that he’d bought from a seedy guy at church. The creepy fucking thing stood at the bottom of the garden for years before termites finally hollowed her out and made her crumble like Sodom and Gomorrah. 

With every corner you turned your stomach tightened with a mixture of excitement and dread. You were looking forward to the evening, sure you were, but you were also struggling to forget that the last time he took you for a night out, he ended up leaving in a cop car. No way could you deal with that shit again.

He pulled you into his side as you were walking. “We’re nearly there.”

“Will you tell me where we’re going now?”

“Nope.”

“If this is another dive bar I swear to god-”

“You really think so little of me?” You shot him a side-eye. “Alright, fair enough.”

As you reached the last corner, he scuttled behind you and placed his hands over your eyes, carefully nudging your legs forward with his knees. You asked him if these theatrics were really necessary. He insisted they were. You were only blind for a couple of steps before the dramatic reveal and, to his credit, you did let slip an audible gasp.

It was a little Italian restaurant, tucked between some vague office buildings but lit up like a white-gold Christmas tree. A small canopy stretched over two wooden tables sitting on the cobbled sidewalk, both occupied by smiling couples nursing huge glasses of inky purple wine. As Bucky took you by the hand and led you to the door, you realised that the inside of the place was barely big enough to seat ten people, most of those seats being already occupied while two smartly dressed waiters rapidly buzzed between their customers, the bar and the kitchen door.

You spotted an empty table tucked in the corner, illuminated by candlelight. Bucky looked back and gave you a smile as one of the waiters led you over. He’d really nailed it, the place was beautiful.

As soon as Bucky’s butt hit the seat, a lengthy wine list was wrestled into his hand. You tried to smother a chuckle as he scanned his eyes over it and tried his best to look knowledgeable. He eventually gave you a wink and pointed to a random name about halfway down the list. Smart move, avoid coming across too cheap but also avoid risking a hundred dollars on some potentially nasty grape juice. You knew there was a reason you liked him.

The two of you sat in comfortable silence for a minute, taking in your surroundings. Maybe it was more than a minute, you weren’t too sure, you’d gotten a little lost in your thoughts.

“What’s up?” Bucky snapped you back to reality. “That’s your deep thinking face.”

“Oh, nothing, I was just-” 

You were about to brush his question off with your usual, automatic response, the kind that pivoted the conversation away from your feelings, but the genuine sincerity in his face made you catch yourself. You had no reason to hide yourself from him. 

“It’s strange, I guess, but I just keep forgetting that we’ve only properly known each other for a few weeks. It feels like we’ve lived a lifetime together.”

“That can’t be a bad thing though, right?” He reached a hand over the table and placed it over yours. “I wouldn’t complain about a lifetime with you.”

Your lips curled into a wide smile and you interlaced your fingers with his. “Me neither. I’d just really like the next lifetime to be a little less stressful.”

“I’ll do my best to behave.”

“I’d appreciate it.”

He smirked and leant back, nodding at the waiter as he placed the wine down on the table and half-filled both of your glasses. His eyes flicked back to yours and he chuckled deeply as he took a drink with his free hand, wincing slightly before swallowing, his expression telling you that he’d taken a fat loss on the wine list lottery. You braved a sip, it tasted like ass. The two of you fell into laughter together.

Your food arrived and you decided to finally address what was on your mind. You’d been meaning to bring up the events of the morning on the walk over, but you’d struggled to find the right moment or come up with wording that wasn’t unbelievably patronising. Well done for not punching my dad, by the way. Really proud of you kiddo. Maybe not. 

“I also wanted to say,” you pulled your plate towards you and swallowed harshly, “what you did today, it really meant a lot.’

“What, wearing your underwear?” You gave him a playful scowl. “Sorry, go on.”

“I know sometimes you struggle to control this self-destructive streak, but you walked away from a fight today. I’ve never seen you do that before.”

His eyes dropped and his smile slowly faded. Shit, had you upset him? That was about as diplomatically as you could have worded it, maybe you should’ve just kept quiet. You were about to attempt a swift topic shift when he finally piped up.

“It hardly makes up for all the other times, though.”

“Maybe not, but what you do now matters a hell of a lot more than what you did in the past.”

He was staring at your hands, your words obviously not making a dent in the spiral he’d suddenly found himself in. “Y’know, before you came back, the stuff I did… it was some kind of miracle that I survived.”

“Don’t say that.”

“It’s true. It was more than a self-destructive streak, I really just had nothing to live for.”

Jesus, that knocked you back. You felt like you’d been winded. The worst part was that he didn’t even look upset, he’d just fallen into this heart-breaking expression of sunken acceptance. You’d never seen him like this before.

You reached out and squeezed his hands hard. “Things are good now, and they’ll be good from now on. That’s what matters.”

He nodded, looking back up at you and forcing a smile. In that moment it became incredibly clear to you how important it was to get away from this town and start again. Granted, a simple change of scenery probably wouldn’t be enough to completely disconnect him from the guilt of his past, but it would at least make it all seem a little further away. You just knew that you were desperate to help him, and you were willing to try anything. 

You gently tried to dig a little deeper into the subject but he swiftly pivoted once he realised how upset you were, his usual cheery demeanour reappearing as he tucked into his meal. It was almost impossible to get more information out of Bucky once he’d stonewalled.

The rest of the evening was lovely and calm. He flagged down the waiter and ordered two beers after the sewer water he’d ordered had all gone, and the two of you quickly discovered that the restaurant took their ‘bottomless breadsticks’ promise a little too seriously, all but force-feeding you by hand to get them gone.

You just couldn’t shake the feeling that something was hanging over you.

You knew you’d have to talk to him more about it soon, even if you didn’t particularly want to. It was his face as he said it. You never wanted to see that again.

---

Part 12

---

Taglist: @touchstarvedforbuckybarnes

Join taglist here

I realise that I just completely abandoned my taglist when I started writing again but I figured most people on there would have just forgotten I existed lol so I'm going to start it over, please join if you fancy.

---

[thedo0zyslider]

I Love You (I'm Not Supposed Too) - 9k Words

It all starts when Jimmy is fourteen years old, when he meets another boy called Fwhip for the first time. In the following years, he will wish that meeting never came to be.

Or: Fwhip and Jimmy Arranged Marriage AU

A03 Link

It all started when Jimmy was fourteen, and walking beside his sister into a new empire for the first time. There was a celebration being held in one of the more land locked empires, the Grimlands. Or we'll, more like the Crystal Cliffs. The newer kingdom was now properly established, and the two sister empires were having a celebration of sorts. It all started at a celebration he very much did not want to attend. The streets were busy, bustling, loud, and he was getting some weird stares already.

It started when he met what would be his fellow rulers, one in particular that is. When he met Fwhip of the Grimlands, son of the kingdom's current Count. The two would meet at a festival, one being held in the Crystal Cliffs. The first official gathering that was to be held in the newest of the ten empires. Him and his family had been invited as a formality, like all the other royals were, since it was their current lineage that ruled over the Ocean Empire. His mother, the Ocean Queen, had accepted out of formality. His sister, Lizzie, was more than excited to come along. Jimmy, never having left his aquatic homeland before, really just wanted to go back to the water already.

The Cliffs was opening its own school of magic, dubbed The Crystal Cliffs Academy. Lizzie had asked to be enrolled in some of the first ever classes, and their mother had agreed. She said knowing a little magic couldn't hurt, and could benefit the kingdom if a magical being ever threatened it during his sister's future rule. Jimmy knew Lizzie was not thinking like that at all, and she just wanted a chance to learn spells. And maybe meet with a few of the other young royals in the process. She had already met one or two, but was unfamiliar with the rest; while her brother had met none. They didn't get a chance to leave the ocean much, not on their mothers orders anyways. And her orders were usually the only orders, unfortunately.

Their family friends, the King and Queen of Mezalea, had accompanied them as well. The Prince, Lizzie and Jimmy;s good friend Joel, had also come as well much to the two young merfolks excitement But sadly the family had been whisked away already, for they had already arrived, something about discussing a trade deal. Which meant they wouldn’t get much time with Joel until the next day. But that would be fine, Jimmy supposed, because any time spent with his best friend was always better than no time at all. In his mind anyways, Lizzie was considerably more bummed out about it.

The three Ocean Royals themselves had just arrived at the newly made school, only trailed by a few royal guards. To Jimmy’s surprise, their mother let them be free almost immediately. Apparently, she had a meeting planned with the Grimlands Count and the Cliffs Head Wizard as soon as possible. She ordered her children to mingle with some people her age, maybe get friendly with some of the young wizards, and then the Queen was off, disappearing for the next half of the day without much word to her children as to why. Most of the guards followed her, but only one stayed with the two siblings, though they didn’t seem like they would linger too close, thankfully.

Lizzie took his hand, the excitement already starting to spill out of her. She led her brother to a rather open area, one that seemed to be in the courtyard of the academy. Jimmy wasn’t quite sure where they were in the Cliffs, for he’d gotten a bit mixed up a while ago. He also thought he was never going to figure out where he was, but that was what he had Lizzie for. His sister mumbled something to him, something about seeing other royals their age now, right as they entered the area. The guard was still behind them, yet they were keeping their distance.

Jimmy saw several people, who seemed to be around their age mingling around, and braced himself for what was to come. And well, the other royal children….well they're interesting to say the least. Some of the introductions to them were good, while others were just downright terrible.

One of the worst ones came from one of the eleven princes, Jimmy thinks it was the crowned one. They were rather tall, with long purple hair and dressed in rather regal looking attire. Jewelry and other accessories littered across them, the elves' pose was seemingly stiff yet full of importance at the same time. The elf stood out quite a fair bit, but they also looked like a bit of an asshole, if Jimmy was being honest.

Standing right next to them was another elf, one who was only a little shorter than his sibling, and much prettier in Jimmy’s humble opinion. He had short blue hair, and was dressed similarly to his brother; with regal looking clothes and accessories galore. Though the way the young elf held himself carried less self importance than the other, and made him feel a little more approachable. He also had antlers resting on top of his head, and what looked to be small wings, ones with beautiful white and gold feathers pressed to his back. Which made Jimmy notice the taller elf also had antlers and wings, though those seemed less pretty than their siblings were.

He had only assumed the two elves were siblings from what he knew about the eleven empire, that the King and Queen had borne two children. Next to them were two children he wasn't sure he'd ever heard of, but one of them looked to be from House Blossom. She looked around his age, and had long brown hair spilling around her shoulders. The girl was also a faerie, shown by her pointed ears, slitted eyes, and teeth slightly sharper than normal. It was the flowers in her hair that really gave her homeland away, since Jimmy knew that the northern kingdom was rather fond of the plants. She wore a simple pink and white dress, one more a lot more simple that what her eleven friend's were wearing.

The last of the four young royals was certainly dressed in a certain way, that was for sure. He showed quite a far but of skin, much more than Jimmy thought he would ever be comfortable with doing. His red shirt barely covered his chest, and the matching pants looked as if they'd been cut shorter. The boy's hair was a bright blonde, as well as being short and clearly more than a little dyed. He wore jewelry as well, not as much as the young elves did, but certainly ones with more bling than they did. The young faerie next to him only had earrings and a necklace on, Jimmy noted.

Lizzie poked him in the side, jolting the young cod out of his thoughts. "Stop staring." She mumbled, giving him a quick and stern look. Jimmy just ducked his head in shame, knowing how a good first impression was highly important to his mother, and his sister somewhat as well.

"Sorry." He muttered, feeling his tail droop a bit, even if he knew his sister wasn't seriously mad at him. She never was over anything, and it's hard to believe that she ever would be.

The first of the group to notice them is the floral girl, the young princess catching them in her peripheral vision. She turns her head to face them, and gives both of the Ocean siblings a small wave. Lizzie returns the smile and wave, while the young cod copies his sister more than a little tentatively.

Before Jimmy knows what's happening, the young faerie is walking over to them, having to lift her skirt up a bit as she walks. He hadn't noticed how long it was before, and can see how it might catch on the ground below. Those skirts are always a pain to wear, even if they are really flowy and nice.

"Hello!" The girl says once she reaches the two, her smile showing off those slightly pointed teeth Jimmy had glimpsed before. "Your Lizzie, right? From the Ocean Empire?"

His sister nods politely, her hand resting on the cod’s shoulder as she introduces him, like he can’t speak for himself or something. "Yes, and this is my little brother, Jimmy."

"I can introduce myself." He snorts indignantly, shooting a light look at his sister.

The Ocean's heir rolls her eyes at him. "You look like a deer in headlights, you're that nervous." She says, her suddenly flat tone getting a giggle out of the other girl.

The faerie smiles at them, and reaches out to shake both of their hands. Both of the siblings reach out and do so, more than a little surprised by this person’s friendliness. Mother had always told them merfolk weren’t very well liked outside the waters. "Well I'm Katherine, from House Blossom! Nice to meet both of you!"

"Nice to meet you too!" Lizzie smiles, and Jimmy nods quickly in agreement. Not even a second later, there’s the sound of several footsteps behind Katherine, and the young cod flicks his gaze in that direction. It seems the three people she had been conversing with had finally taken notice of her absence, or of the two new people, and had decided to investigate. Unconsciously, Jimmy shrunk in on himself, more than a little intimidated by the aura coming from these three folks.

"Katherine? Who are these two?" One of the young eleves asks, the one with blue hair. His tone is polite, yet also familiar when it speaks to Katherine. It seems the two of them are quite good friends, for the faerie girl still keeps her same friendly and easygoing smile around the eleven boy.

"We're from the Ocean Empire." Lizzie answers for Katherine, one of those fake smiles on her face again, for what has to be the fifth time today, Jimmy rather comfortably chooses to say nothing.

"That would make sense, brother." The older elf snorts, making pointed glances at their fins and tails. A gaze that makes the young cod feel small, and makes him squirm with uncomfortableness. He hates when people do that.

"Shut up." His younger brother hisses, and the elf with long purple hair just rolls their eyes at their seemingly younger sibling.

"I thought I smelled something fishy." The blonde boy next to them huffs, giving both of the merfolks rather nasty glares. Jimmy has to stop himself from glaring back, mainly because this is not a good time to do that, no matter how much he really wants to.

"Joey, be polite darling." The purple haired elf says, flicking their friend. The other boy just huffs in response. "The little one was staring though." They continue, speaking too Lizzie now and entirely ignoring their friends rather rude indigence.

"Ah, sorry about that." Jimmy speaks up, making himself look at sound the most apologetic he can manage. Though it's a little unnecessary, because Lizzie is more than enough apologetic for the both of them.

"He hasn't really seen anyone who's not a merfolk before, my apologies." The Ocean Princess says, sounding more sorry for her brother's rudeness than the cod himself ever could. The older elf just gives a nod, seemingly one of understanding, before finally going to introduce themselves.

"Well, I'm Xornorth. Nice to finally meet you two. We hear much about your little kingdom, don't we Scott?" They say, glancing at their brother on the last words. The younger elf, Scott, nods in agreement, apparently deciding to stay wholly silent for the time being.

"Do you know?" Lizzie aske, her tone having gained a slight curiosity to it.

Xornorth hums out a response, their way of speaking even sounding stuck up and full of themselves. "Yes, your mother's been trying to establish some trade routes recently."

"Yes, she did mention that." Lizzie nods, sounding like she recognizes it now. Jimmy doesn't, but that isn't unusual for him. His mother never really tells him what she's doing politically, for that I'd jot his business, because he will never have to worry about doing that for an empire. In her own words.

"I'm Scott, by the way." The blue hair elf introduces himself, taking advantage of the slight burst of silence between their two groups.

Lizzie shifts her attention over to him, seemingly much more enthused to be speaking with him rather than his brother. "We spoke at the last House Blossom Festival, didn't we?" She asks, the frills on her face twitching as she recognizes him.

"Yes, I believe so." Scott says, letting a friendly smile start to stretch across his features.

"It's been great to meet with you again." Lizzie smiles, then turns to the third boy beside them. "And you, I didn't quite catch your name?"

"Joey, from the Lost Empire." The blonde introduces himself, his tone and generally aura strikingly similar to Xornorth’s. It's no wonder why they seem to get along so well then, if they both suck as much as they appear too.

Jimmy smiles at the other boy regardless of that, and makes the mistake of complimenting him. "I like your earrings." He mumbles, and can see how the blonde lights up. Scott cringes and makes a face, which is the first indicator that he'd made a mistake.

"Oh, why thank you!" The tone Joey was using was the second indicator, a tone that showed how full of himself he was. "They are wonderful, aren't they?"

The Lost Prince sounds like he's going to say something more, but Xornorth cuts him off. "Yes, they are. But the lady hasn't introduced herself yet."

"Oh, I'm Lizzie," His sister starts, and is very rudely cut off before she can even finish their introduction. "And this is-"

"Well, it's been nice to make your acquaintance. But we have to be going now, don't we Joey dear?" Xornorth says, turning away from the Ocean Princess. Lizzie does not hold back her offended glare, mouth agape in shock. Scott cringes again, and Jimmy holds back a rather nasty scowl.

Joey huffs in agreement, shooting the two merfolk a rather triumphant look. The young cod kinda wants to punch him right in his stupid, smug little face. "Yes, we have much more important things to do than mingle with the fishfolk."

"Well yes, but you didn't need to put it like that. " Xornorth chides again, even though they clearly know it will do nothing. Joey didn’t listen before, and he probably never had. The young blonde seemed to do whatever he damn well pleased, much to the annoyance of literally everyone else around him, minus a few expectations. The oldest elf turns to Lizzie again, and gives a few more final and dismissive words. "Goodbye. Perhaps we'll run into you later." They said, their attention still fixed on Joey despite not even speaking to him, The arse.

"Perhaps. Good day." Lizzie returns the goodbye just as curtly, and Xornorth gives one final nod. After that the older elf walks away, Joey once again attached to his side. But in a more physical sense this time, and an arm was not so discreetly being wrapped around his shoulders.

Once the other two are gone, the youngest elf seems to relax. His pose becomes less poised and formal, and his shoulders noticeably slump downwards. He gives the two of them a more friendly look, one Lizzie readily returns. Jimmy just shifts in place, unsure of what to think of this one just yet.

"Ignore Xornorth, they're just an asshole sometimes." Scott whispered to both of them, shooting a look at where his sibling had retreated too.

"Thank you, Scott." Lizzie smiled, one of her more formal ones. Which told Jimmy that the two weren't very close. Which might be a good thing, if it made him see less of Xornorth. And Joey as well, since he seemed to be attached to the older elves hip, like some kind of lap dog maybe.

"I never caught your brother's name." The elf says, his eyes flicking expectantly between the two siblings as he spoke. Thankfully, unlike his sibling, Scott seemed to be an actually decent human being, and much more pleasant to hold a conversation with. Even if the interaction was still a little stiff and formal.

"Oh right." Lizzie mumbled, then once again turned to the young cod beside her. "Well, go on and introduce yourself." And well, Jimmy did try to do that. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. His tongue felt locked in place and he felt his tail flick with anxiety, entirely against his will too. He didn’t quite catch whatever look Scott or Katherine gave him, but he did see the gentle smile that his sister adorned, a soft hand being placed on his shoulder, a way to steady her baby brother just a bit. She knows why this is nerve wracking for him, even if no one else does, she understands

"No need to be nervous, little egg." Lizzie says, her tail flicking against his leg comfortably. Jimmy just nods, and composes himself some more. The cod doesn’t want to make a fool of himself, not on his first introduction, and certainly not to any eleven royalty, not to someone with that high of a status. Even if the particular elf speaking to them didn't seem to care.

He takes a deep breath, and finally says his name to someone for the first time ever. "Jimmy, um, nice to meet you!"

"Nice to meet you too!" Scott smiles back at him almost instantly, and the cod thinks it's quite a dazzling smile indeed.

"You gotta be less nervous, we're not gonna bite!" Katherine says from beside them, giving him a few surprising pats on the shoulder. Jimmy jumps a little, having forgotten she was here, the young faerie had been so silent for that whole conversation. "Well, except for those ones." She says, casting a glance at where Xornorth and Joey had walked off to. Jimmy just nodded, even though her kind words hadn't done much to quell his nerves. Not much would in this situation, admittedly.

"Sorry, I just haven't…..nevermind." He started to mumble, before thinking better of it. He feels a few quizzical looks be passed at him, before the moment is brushed off and seemingly entirely forgotten about. Thankfully, he would rather have people not remember any weird behavior he has today for any reason.

Scott leaves a moment after, saying he should probably stay with Xornorth. Even if they and Joey are quite the insufferable duo. The two's mother prefers they stay together, and is going to need them later that day regardless. So they wave the blue haired elf goodbye, and the young cod preps himself to meet more people. Because his first introduction to this lot of children was horrible and nerve wracking, and he would like the next few to go a lot better. And well, thankfully they do, because not all of these people are horrible.

The next person he meets is a kind looking girl, one wearing a short and cute sunflower dress. Her brown hair has what looks to be natural streaks of blonde in it, and she walks over to him and Lizzie with confidence. Upon seeing her, his sister's expression lights up, which signals to Jimmy that the two girls have met before. She must be one of the few friends Lizzie had talked about once before, on one of her many rambles he often zoned out during. Whoops.

"Liz!" The girl greets with a wave. They must be pretty close then, for her to call the Ocean's heir a nickname. Even if Lizzie was also technically a nickname of her full name. But whatever, that wasn't the point.

"Hi Pearl! How have you been?" Lizzie greets back, her frills flicking happily.

"I've been good! How about you?" The other girl, Pearl, responds with a smile, now standing beside them and Katherine, who has gone quiet once again.

"I've been good as well." Lizzie says, and suddenly both of the girls' gazes have switched to him, doing so at what seems to be lightning speed. Jimmy holds back a click from the back of his throat, and tries not to shrink under their two gazes. He is never going to be used to sudden attention like this, never in a million years.

"Who's the little scamp behind you?" Pearl asks, her tone sounding oddly playfully. Jimmy feels like she's the type of person to ruffle her siblings' hair and start rough housing with them out of nowhere.

"This," His sister says, holding back quite a few giggles as she speaks. "Is my brother, the one I've told you so much about!"

"Hi." The blonde says, waving a webbed hand up at Pearl, still rather timid. The younv farmers eyes light up at that, and he can only imagine the kinds of stories his sister has been telling about him when he's not there. Probably a lot of embarrassing ones Jimmy would rather forget, knowing her.

"Jim! I can call you Jim, right?" Pearl says, raising a curious eyebrow. The nickname comes to her so quickly, and he wonders briefly if she'd already thought of it before even meeting him.

The young cod nearly beams at that, nodding his head excitedly. “Yeah! Yeah that’s fine!” He responds rather enthusiastically, absolutely too much so. Pearl notices, definitely, she has too. But instead of commenting on it the young farmer just returns his smile, and gives an excited clap on her hands.

"Well then, it's nice to meet you Jim!" Pearl says, a smile still plastered on her face, even when she turns ro Lizzie. "You didn't tell me he was so small and adorable, Liz!"

His big sister lights up at that, and her tail flicks behind, its owner being no doubt excited to embarrass her baby brother. "Oh don't worry, he's gonna get much bigger!"

"I am?" Jimmy asks, his brows furrowed in confusion. Honestly, he thought he was just going to be small and tiny forever, since his egg had been damaged and all. No one had even mentioned he was going to be bigger one day!

"Obviously. You know mom's like seven feet tall." Lizzie rolls her eyes affectionately, and reaches down to ruffle his hair. The cod scrunches his nose up and dodges away. "Your growth's just been a little stunted is all."

"Oh yeah, she is." He mumbles, sounding rather dumb to his own ears. The two older girls just laugh at him.

"I always forget how tall other species can get. Humans aren't usually taller than six feet." Pearl remarks, tipping her to the side a little thoughtful. "Wonder how big you're gonna be, Jim."

"Guess we'll have to wait and see." Jimmy shrugs, once again beaming at his new nickname. Lizzie smiles, her pointy teeth on full display, and manages to successfully ruffle his hair when she tries next. He just scowls at her, and hurriedly tries to make it look right again.

The next person he meets is quite small, even smaller than he and Joel are. She has to be around three feet tall, and the parent Jimmy catches a glimpse of isn't that much taller. They must be gnomes then, for that is the only empire with a species that short. The gnome girl has short brown hair, and a comically large mushroom hat sitting atop of it. She wears cute spotted overalls, along with matching shoes and a green shirt. Katherine seems ro know her well, because she lets out quite the exacted gasp upon her friends entrance.

"Shrub!" The faerie calls out, her eyes lighting up at the sight of the gnome. "Shrub over here!"

"Katherine!" The gnome yells back, running over as fast as her little legs will allow her to. Jimmy smiles at that, and can also hear the amused sounds coming from his sister as well.

"How have you been!?" Katheine asks once the gnome reaches them. To the cod's surprise, she picks her friend up and pulls her into a hug. The two of them spin around a little, Shrub's loud laughter and the faeries giggles filling the air. The gnome is put down with an oof sound, somehow smiling even brighter than before.

"Oh I've been good! And who's this guy!?" Shrub exclaims, then turns excitedly to the cod boy standing beside their friend. It seemed Lizzie had escaped her notice at first, but a Shrub' quick glance upwards afterwards confirmed that wasn’t the case for long.

"Hi, I'm Jimmy." The cod waves, flashing Shrub the friendliest smile he can manage, fangs and all. Though if they're friends with Katherine, the gnome is probably used to getting toothy smiles thrown at her.

"He's from the Ocean!" The faerie says, giving Jimmy another pat on the shoulder. She was very physically affectionate, he noted, which wasn't necessarily a bad thing. Just something the cod was unused to people being, outside of Lizzie and sometimes Joel of course.

"Oh! You're the Ocean Prince!" Shrub says, a light bulb going on off in her head seemingly. She's delightful, this girl is, that's what he's decided. He likes this little gnome quite a lot.

"Yeah, yeah I am." Jimmy smiles. He likes Katherine a lot too, he decides. Maybe these other noble children aren't all that bad, and Xornorth and Joey are just weird like that.

"And I'm his sister, Lizzie." The Ocean Princess butts in rather politely, giving the smaller girl a friendly smile and wave as she does so. Shrub has to crane her neck to fully look up at Lizzie, but she does it, and successfully returns the grin she had been given.

"Nice to meet both of you." The gnome says, and keeps hanging around after that, permanently joining the makeshift little group they seem to be forming.

The next person to enter is someone not their age, someone who looks old enough for Jimmy to assume he is a King from somewhere. It is a man in the traditional clothes worn in the desert empires, his long, dusty colored coat falling just above the ground. He wears sandals, and is the only one of them to have earned a crown, for this is one placed atop his head. He has short and curly brown hair, along with kind blue eyes and a warm smile. Jimmy hasn't even spoken to him yet, but he likes the man already. He seems to be one of those people you just instinctively trust, for his demeanor is so calm and kind.

The man walks over to them, the warm smile still saying on his face. "Hello!" He calls out, waving a second later. Jimmy flashes a smile back at him, and can see that it pleases the other very much, to have his greets and kindness returned.

"Hi!" Katherine calls out, her and Shrub seemingly already familiar with the man. It is not the first time that day Jimmy wonders how much he, and by extension Lizzie, had missed out on all these years when they were stuck at home in the Prisma Palace. It seems to be a lot, sadly. But maybe they can visit more, and be included in some memories after this day.

"You two are from the Ocean Empire, right?" The man asks, now stopping in front of their little group. He gives a small wave to the faerie and gnome beside them, before turning his full attention back to the merfolk. Jimmy likes this guy a lot already, really likes him. He’s like someone’s cool dad.

"Yep!" Lizzie says. Jimmy can tell she likes the man as well, by the way her frills are twitching in a friendly manner. It’s one of the few times she’s done that the whole trip, actually, and it’s a rather rare thing for his sister to do around new people. Especially around multiple of them. That, or she’s decently familiar with the guy already, which is also an equally likely possibility.

"Then you must be-"

"Jimmy. This is Jimmy." Lizzie cuts the man off, going to rest a hand on her brother's arm. The brunette's eyes glimmer with something, something akin to understanding then he nods.

"Jimmy, yes, and if I'm remembering correctly, you're Lizzie?" He asks, dark blue eyes flicking over the both of them a little curiously. Though it was a good kind of curiosity, not like anything some of the other people they’d meet had possessed that day.

"Yes sir, that is right." His sister nods, and it's confirmation for Jimmy that this guy is as old as he looks, and is probably a King of some sort. He wasn’t expecting to be talking to the King of the Desert Empire today, especially since he is currently struggling to remember the name of the place. But if this is indeed him, and he’s truly this friendly or a person, the young cod supposed that’s not a big deal.

"No need for formalities." The man shakes his head, that kind smile never seeming to leave his face, even if he does seem to cringe a little at the young Princess using her manners. Which you don’t see very often, honestly. "I'm barely older than your lot."

"You are?" Jimmy asks, tipping his head to the side in curiosity. Ok then, the current king of Pixandria, that was the desert empire’s name, is decently old. So maybe this isn’t him, and he just has a crown for whatever reason.

The man lets out an amused huff. "Yep. I'm freshly twenty one."

"You are old!" The young cod exclaims, meaning no offense by it. Beside him, Katherine, Pearl and Shrub both burst into giggles.

"Jimmy! Don't be rude!" Lizzie scolds him, giving the back of his legs a light flick with her tail. The young cod cringes, and goes to apologize, instantly regretting his outburst. But before he can even get a word out, the man starts laughing in his own right, the sound mixing nicely with the three girls retreating giggles that still come from beside him.

"It's okay, it's okay. He's quite the funny one." The man says, reaching over to give the young cod a friendly pat on the head. Jimmy scrunches up his nose, but accepts it anyway. All of these people were physically affectionate to some degree it seemed, not just Katherine. "And I’m Pix of Pixandria, it's great to meet the both of you."

Right as they finish their greeting with Pix, one of the last people they will meet that day walks up. It is a boy with brunette hair, dressed in attire Jimmy fairly recognizes. It has to be Mythland attire then, because that is the empire his people see the most of really. Which isn’t good for the new boy, due to the cod’s own dislike of the Kingdom’s people. It has to be the Prince too, because he has a scar over one of his blue eyes, said to be a defining feature of the future king. The boy’s eyes light up as he walks over, and Lizzie has already started glaring at him. Which has just confirmed all of her brother's suspicions, great.

"Oh! Fish people! I've never met a fish person before." The brunette says, ogling at both of them. Jimmy makes a face, and scotts closer to both Katherine and Pix, so the two more friendlier people are blocking him from the other’s uncomfortable gaze.

"We literally border your empire." Lizzie says, standing her around. She crosses her arms over her chest, and keeps glaring. The boy seems quite unfazed, and keeps being…..well he keeps being himself. Which is probably not the ideal thing for him to be doing.

"This young man," Pix says, as if trying to break the tense air that has suddenly formed. "Is Sausage from Mythland." Eve, his name is weird, because of course Mythlander’s have weird names like Sausage . Seriously, who names their child that? An insane person!?

"Nice to see you again, Sausage." Lizzie sounds exasperated, and like she's holding back a sigh. The young cod has to wonder what this guy like, to have just annoyed his sister by existing near them. But then again, he’s from Mythland, so he just has to imagine someone who’s incredibly annoying, and he has his answer just like that.

"Is this little Jim you've told me about?" Sausage said, unfortunately turning to him. Pix and Katherine moved out of the way, and Pearl unhelpfully pushed him forward, so now he was in full view of this weird guy. Nevertheless, Jimmy gave the friendliest wave he could manage, and stopped himself from cringing in his own right when the other boy’s eyes lit up at it.

"Yep, that's him." Lizzie confirmed, shifting closer to her younger brother once again rather protectively. Jimmy usually hated it when she did that, but this time he was more than grateful. He didn’t like Mythlanders, and especially not this guy.

"Um, hi." The blonde muttered, sounding a lot less confident than he had a few minutes ago. “Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too!” Mythland’s prince says, reaching out to give him a friendly pat on the shoulder, And the young cod only lets him to be polite, and not rude in front of a bunch of people he’d just met. Lizzie is near glaring daggers at him now. The physical touch from Katherine and the like is still okay, just not from this one. Not in the slightest.

"Pix!" Suddenly, another boy's voice comes from behind them, and Sausage lights up upon hearing it. When Jimmy turns his head to look, he figures the boy saying it is the son of the Crystal Cliff's Head Wizard, and the girl that is standing next to him must be his sister and the Head Wizard’ daughter. He assumed so mainly because of how similar the two looked, and that they were the last people they were going to meet that day. If Lizzie’s count was indeed right, and there were thirteen royal children currently.

The boy is a ginger, with bright blue eyes and horns sticking out of his head, signaling him as half dragon. He also has a dragon tail, and red and black wings on his back, which Jimmy finds when he glances downwards. He wears a short black coat with a white undershirt, old and stained brown pants, and boots that look far too big for him. His hands seem to be adorned with various rings, and also stained with redstone. There are also a small pair of goggles atop his head, and the whole outfit gives the young cod the impression of a working man. Which is strange, because royal children rarely if ever have to work, and most just did it because they enjoyed being helpful before their duties started to consume all their time.

His sister was a half dragon as well, having the same hybrid features as her brother. Though her wings were purple instead of red, and her eyes were a pretty green color. Oh, and both of the twins looked to be absolutely covered in freckles. The sister wore robes that looked native to the Cliffs, and looked thick enough to handle the mountain’s harsh cold. For jewelry she wore gold bracelets instead of rings, and a rather large hat sat atop her head. A hat so comically big in fact, it almost looked stupid on her.

"Fwhip! Gem!" Pix called, wrapping the two into a quick side hug once they were within arms’ reach. "How are you two?"

"We've been doing the best we can!" The girl, Gem, laughed, leaning into the embrace. "And Sausage!" She exclaimed, reaching for the other as soon as the Pixandrian noble had let them go.

"Sausage!" Her brother, who had the strange name of Fwhip , parroted, and he reached for the Mythlander as well. So the three of them were friends, great. Absolutely wonderful . That’s three whole people to try and avoid in the future.

"Hi you two!" Sausage exclaimed, returning the two twin’s enthusiasm about seeing them. He did what Katherine had done to Shrub earlier, though he somehow had the strength to pick up both of his friends and spin them around at the same time. Either that, or the two siblings were light as a feather. Which Jimmy preferred, because Sausage being that strong was frankly terrifying to him, when it was probably very impressive to everyone else.

“You have a few new friends I see? More guests mom invited?” Gem says, one she’s back on solid ground again. Her brother’s attention, along with everyone else's, has once again shifted to the two merfolk siblings, and Jimmy really hopes that this will be the last time this happens today. Again, he’s not used to being the center of anything, let alone multiple people’s attention, so this was all starting to get quite draining for the young cod.

“Yep! These two are Jimmy and Lizzie!” Pix says, his smile still warm and friendly. He puts a hand on both their shoulders, like a father would, and it is a warm touch that Jimmy actually welcomes. Instead of a certain Mythlander’s unwanted one from just a few moments before.

“Nice to meet you!” Gem says politely, and from what he’s seen so far, Jimmy has to decide the young wizard isn’t that bad. Even if a decently big part of him really, really, really wants to dislike her. Her brother on the other hand is a whole different beast.

“Yeah, yeah. Nice to meet you or whatever.” Fwhip mutters, sounding rather dismissive. He nudges his sister, and the two half dragons walk off to the side a bit, Gem giving her brother a puzzled look, The rest of their little group doesn’t seem to assume anything, and tries to go back to some friendly banter, even while the two twin are having quite the conversation, doing so not even five feet away from the people their talking about.

Fwhip gives the two siblings a look, a rather disgusted one, then turns to his sister. "Gem!" "You didn't tell me the fish people would be here!" He hisses. It sounds like the statement is supposed to be a whisper, but the words are loud enough that everyone can hear. Lizzie simply flinches, and pretends not to notice. Jimmy just starts glaring holes into the half dragon’s back.

"Fwhip! Be nice!" Gem scolds him, flicking her brother with her tail. "This a gathering of all empires. You should've expected them!'

The future Count snorts, and pouts much like a small child would. “It doesn’t mean I have to l ike it. ”

“Then can you and Sausage at least be civil? So you won’t be in trouble or whatever.” Gem sighs in frustration. Jimmy is just glad that at least one of the twins has sense.

“Fine, I guess.” Fwhip huffs, and takes a glance around, presumably for Sausage. While scanning the area, he ends up locking eyes with Jimmy; who’s certain there's a deep frown stretching across his face. It became clear to the other that the young cod, and maybe his older sister as well, had just overheard that conversation. Though Fwhip doesn’t seem to care much. He just wrinkles his nose as they stare at each other, before breaking his gaze and turning away. Jimmy has to stop himself from bearing his teeth in response.

He glances at Lizzie, and sees that she has started to chat with Pearl once again. Gem had already turned her head away before they even locked eyes, some of the older wizards asking for her attention. No one had really seen the exchange between them, seemingly, or noticed Fwhip’s unfair hatred of his species. Though the hatred was so obvious and ugly, no one really needed to see it. It reared its head in other ways, and seemed to be radiating off the young Count as if in waves.

Well then, that's another fellow royal he’s on bad terms with. And Jimmy didn’t even do anything, other than be born with a tail, gills, and some fins to go along with it.

"Okay. They bite too. Forget what I said earlier." Katherine mumbled from beside him suddenly, a frown slowly forming on her face. The cod had to try not to jump, startled by the sudden voice next to him.

"Nothing I'm not used to." Jimmy sighed. He could feel the slightly worried look Katherine gave him, but brushed it off easily. Really, he was used to it. He had worse things said about him back home, worse than Fwhip could probably ever say. Unless he stooped to the same level that us, which wasn't out of the question really.

"My mother wanted me to give you guys a tour of the place," Gem says about ten minutes later, once most of them, minus Joey and the elves, had gathered around her. "So shall we get going? Since you're all here?"

"Yes, that would be a good idea." Pix nods. Despite his age and familiarity with the twins, the Pixandrian noble even seems unaware with the layout of this place; the brunette having looked around and marveled at the architecture quite a few times already. People probably hadn’t been allowed to visit the place during the school and the surrounding area’s construction, most likely due to all its magical elements.

"Ooh a tour!" Sausage says, giving a small clap of his hands in excitement. Gem snorts affectionately at the gesture, and Pearl just rolls her eyes with a similar emotion. Jimmy didn’t know that the nice famer was friendly with this lot, but he supposes it’s a good thing to keep track of. Considering some of their…ah, rather recent treatment of him and his sister is all.

"You've already seen this place." Fwhip points out, bumping his friend in the side.

"Tours are still fun!" Sausage reason, nudging the other back. The half dragon giggles in response, and his gaze flicks towards his sister as she starts to speak again.

“Well then let's start one!” Gem begins her explanation with a smile, the group of them eagerly trailing behind the young wizard. "Our mother is the one who thought of the Cliffs and the Academy. She's a very smart woman."

"I'm sure she is!" Katherine smiles politely. It is the best any of them can offer, as they have yet to see the twins' mother on this trip, and are likely not going too. The young wizard returns the smile, her expression seeming to light up instead a bit.

"What about your dad, Fwhip?" Sausage asked suddenly, bumping his friend with his shoulder. He did so like he was setting up something. The two boys slowed, all the way until they came to a halt, temporarily pausing the tour until this little exchange was to be over with.

"Father still works in the forge. You couldn't make him quit if you tried." Fwhip responded, raising a curious eyebrow at his friend. The Mythlander glanced to the side, fighting back the beginnings of a smile.

"Oh you're no better!" Gem exclaimed, a teasing grin starting to form on her face. She turned back to the rest of them, and Sausage giggled in what sounded like triumph. "He spends almost all his free time in there with dad, really. I can barely get him out sometimes-"

"Shut up!" Fwhip hisses, already turning bright red in what has to be embarrassment. Jimmy and a few of the others are already hiding their giggles behind their hands.

Sausage grins, a grin that confirms this was his intention all along. "He gets all embarrassed when we mention it!"

"I do not!" The half dragon protests, his tail starting to lash from side to side.

“You’re red as a tomato right now!” The Mythlander giggles, eliciting a few laughs from the other children around the. Impossibly, his friend turns even redder at the sound, and positively looks like he wants to die right then and there.

"You do!" His sister butts in, the grin on her face mirroring the one Sausage is wearing. "You hate everyone knowing how much of an inventor you are!"

"Gem!" Fwhip whines, the embarrassed flush having reached the tips of his ears already.

"He's good at it too! We'll have to show you guys one day!" Sausage keeps bragging despite all of his friends' protests, placing a hand on the half dragon's shoulder.

Fwhip just scowls, and removes himself from the Mythlander’s grasp. "No you will not!" He says, tail lashing a little faster than before.

"Fineee." Gem relents with a sigh. "But you're still good at making things"

The half dragon just rolls his eyes at his sister. "Can we move on now? This was supposed to be a tour. Not a humiliate Fwhip party." He grumbles, his tail having calmed down its lashing by now.

"Yes, I suppose we can." Gem says, and starts to walk again. The rest fall in line behind her, just as they had been a few moments before. Jimmy falls into step beside Katherine and Shrub, his sister right in front of him, and prepares to listen to what the young wizard will have to say next.

The rest of the tour goes well, with many similar interruptions and moments of banter happening the whole time. Everyone is smiling, laughing, including Jimmy. The atmosphere is so nice, he is finally able to ignore all those nasty encounters from earlier, and shake off all the bad feelings he;d obtained along his short stay in the Cliffs. These people were interesting, definitely, but for the most part they are nice and lovely to be around. The young cod is starting to suspect he’s gonna like this group a whole lot.

After the tour is done, Lizzie gets distracted by a conversation with pix and Pearl. Which is a perfect opportunity for Jimmy to sneak off. Really, she knows how he is, she knows letting him out of her sights is a horrible idea. But here they are. Her younger brother is still sneaking away and causing trouble after all these years.

He doesn't know what it is about Katherine, but the two of them click instantly. The moment Lizzie has separated from them, the young faerie’s eyes light up, and she pulls him off to the side, away from the main group. Shrub follows, seemingly on the same page as their taller friend. Jimmy isn’t really sure where the two are going with this yet, but he's mostly just happy to be here.

"How old are you?" Katherine asks, once the three of them are half hidden behind a spruce wood pillar. A wood Jimmy can’t help but stare at for a minute, because he doesn’t see much of it back at home.

"Fourteen." The blonde answers uncertainty, his frills twitching.

Katherine’s eyes light up, and she lets out a happy sound. "Then let's ditch the older kids!" She exclaims, glancing between him and Shrub, who stands next to their new fish friend.

"Some of them are only fifteen, that's not much older!" The gnome protests, though not seemingly because she doesn’t want to ditch the rest of the royal children. She seems to just be stating the very obvious facts, her eyes twinkling lightly with mischief.

"It's old enough!" Katherine responds, already starting to walk away from their makeshift hiding spots. The two follow after her, Jimmy being glad that he and Lizzie’s guard had seemingly ditched the two of them hours ago.

"Do you even know your way around here?" He says, now walking side by side with the faerie once more.

Katherine just giggles, and leads them down a random hallway, three pairs of footsteps echoing rather loudly in the quietness. "A little bit. And that's enough!"

The three of them explore the place for what has to be a good hour or two, laughing and hiding from each other in the magic academy’s vast hallways, some of those said hallways having magic properties to them. Which does nothing but encourage the three’s silly little exploration effort. Though eventually, the group does have to head back, as it is getting late, and their parents will surely be looking for them soon. In Jimmy’s case, Lizzie is probably already fretting and worrying her fins off, so he heads back earlier than the two girls, and sadly waves goodbye to them. Katherine and Shrub return his wave, saying they’ll need to hang out again soon. The cod laments that that isn’t very likely to happen, unfortunately.

Jimmy maneuvers his way back to that same courtyard from earlier, surprised he’s able to find his way back so easily and that he hasn’t gotten lost. He is also surprised he hasn’t run into anybody, because this part of the place had seemed to be crawling with wizards and other people native to the Cliffs before. Unfortunately, he jinxes himself with that one, and runs into a certain red-haired, annoying half dragon not even two minutes later.

The other royal catches sight of him, and scowls. Unfortunately, the hallway was on the smaller side, and they were going opposite ways, putting both of them right in each other’s spaces. "Move, codboy." Fwhip hisses, shoving past him rather rudely.

Jimmy stumbles back with a surprised yelp, and starts glaring daggers at the other boy. "What's your problem?" He asks, when he's steady on his feet once again.

"You're a fish. That's my problem." The half dragon shrugs. He's farther down the hallway at this point, and has stopped and turned his head so they are facing each other once more. The looks he's giving Jimmy is intimidating, but nothing new. Nothing he hasn't seen before. He gets much worse at home.

"That makes no sense!" He exclaims, his tail starting to lash behind him. WHich is probably just going to irritate the other boy more, but whatever.

Fwhip explains it simply, like it's the most obvious thing in the world. "It does. You're annoying, and you're also a merfolk. So therefore I don't like you."

"I haven't done anything to you! And I'm not annoying! I've barely talked the whole time I've been here!" Jimmy has to hold back a growl as he speaks, and takes another step forward.

"And? That doesn't change anything." Fwhip shrugs, and seems entirely unfazed by whatever the blonde is trying to do.

"You…you asshole! You're just an asshole!" The cod spits out, which was the very thing he’d been thinking as soon as the other spoke, no, as soon as he’d gotten a good look at him. He was just an asshole for no good reason.

"Take that back!" The future Count hisses, apparently not liking that one bit. He's one of those guys that seemingly can't take a hit to his ego, because of course he is.

"I won't because I'm ight." Jimmy keeps standing his ground, though now taking a few steps back rather than forward. He wasn’t that stupid, he knew getting into a fight with the Head Wizard’s son would be a mistake, even if he did start being rude first, On the other hand, the half dragon didn’t really seem to care about the trouble they would get in.

"Take it back, you stupid little cod." Fwhip growls, taking a step closer. Jimmy just glares back, and holds his ground. Next thing he knows, claws are digging into his skin, but not enough to draw blood. The other isn't that stupid.

Fwhip's pushed him against a wall, and the young cod yelps in surprise when his back hits it. "Take it back." The ginger hisses, his breath right against his ear. Jimmy says nothing, just thrashes and growls in response, even when he feels his feet being lifted off the ground. The other digs his claws in a little deeper, a little harder, right as the cod’s own claws manage to catch on his coat. The ginger hisses again, and pressed him so hard against the wall that it hurts.

Suddenly, Lizzie’s voice comes from nearby, what seems to be right down the hallway. Fwhip freezes, then has the sense to let him go. Jimmy knows he’s not that scary, but that Lizzie is; especially when she has a trident. Which she doesn’t have right now, luckily for the future Count. Fwhip just gives one last growl at him, and stalks off into the nearest room. The cod isn’t even sure if he knows where he's going anymore, and can’t make himself care either. He just rights himself again, and rubs the spot where dragon claws had dug into him. It’s going to leave a bruise, one that’s going to be rather tricky to hide once he puts on his regular attire of shorts and rather open shirts.

Lizzie turns down the hall right as he does so, Jimmy being able to see the way his sister’s eyes light up, even from all the way down there. She picks up the pace, and is at his side in seconds. The worry radiates off her in waves, and she’s grabbing his arm and is holding it before either of them can even get a word in.

"There you are! I was starting to get worried!" She says, already starting back down the hallway. Jimmy follows behind her, because he really has no choice but to do so.

"I'm fine, I was just hanging out with Katherine and Shrub." He huffs, stumbling every step as his sister drags him along rather hurriedly. This was going to be embarrassing if someone saw this.

The Ocean Princess huffed in response, her tone switching from worried to a little more stern. Which meant something had happened. "I'm glad to see you making friends, but mum called for us a few minutes ago."

"Oh, okay." He mumbled. Yeah, yeah that would explain why the older merfolk was so frantic. Making their mother wait was never a good idea, never had been, and usually ended in a scolding of some kind.

Lizzie sighs, taking her brother's hand in hers. Like he is still a toddler she needs to direct around. "Come on, best not to keep her waiting any longer. You know how she gets."

"I know, I know.." Jimmy mumbles, holding back his own sigh as he follows his sister back down the hallway, and to the open area they had been in before.

He doesn't really want to go back to his mother, for this is a rather short trip, only supposed to be a day or two long. And the moment the Queen starts calling for them, it means the fun is ending. It means the two of them will probably have to sit through boring formal stuff for the rest of the day, and maybe the whole next day, which means less time spent with the people who were actually fun to be around.

But all Jimmy can do about that is hold back a sigh, and try to keep his sanity intact for the rest of this boring, burning trip, and even when they return home as well. All he can do is be quiet and listen, like a good child should.

Fortunately, and sometimes unfortunately, he and his sisters' visits outside of the Ocean Empire get more frequent than ever before, till it feels like they've traveled the whole world. They end up visiting the Grimlands and the Crystal Cliffs a lot, and Jimmy will not find out why until a whole year later and then some.

[hebuiltfive]

Thundertober Day Sixteen: Asteroid

We're in the part of Thundertober where I lost a little steam, and so some of the next few pieces might not make sense or be a bit... meh. Hopefully this one is okay. The idea came from a news report I saw the other week and had me thinking about aliens.

AO3 here

Days: One ~ Two ~ Three ~ Four ~ Five ~ Six ~ Seven ~ Eight ~ Nine ~ Ten ~ Eleven ~ Twelve ~ Thirteen ~ Fourteen ~ Fifteen

Warnings for: None! Human curiosity and exploration is a wonderful thing. It's a shame it can also turn deadly. Tagging: @thunder-tober@skymaiden32@idontknowreallywhy@mrmustachious

“For thousands of years, man has looked up at the stars, dreaming of what it would be like to travel amongst them, of what it would be like to hold such cosmic greatness in one’s hand.

Hundreds of years ago, man began developing technologies that broke barrier after barrier, creating colossal achievements in his wake. These developments consumed their thoughts. What more can we do? Then, the collective imaginations of all the people began to wonder the same.”

The speaker stood proud at his little wooden podium. Bright spotlights were shining brightly onto him and highlighted certain attributes; his receding hairline and his profusely sweaty forehead, the rosiness of his cheeks and the almost amber quality to the man’s eyes.

John had taken note of all the details the minute Professor Yarrow stepped onto the stage. He was an academic he’d been keeping an eye on recently, what with Yarrow’s current collaboration with the International Space Agency. The project the man had been discussing as a potentially fundamental experiment was now being conducted in the vast vacuum of space.

Asteroids had long been marvelled at by scientists. The answers that a ball of ice could hold could be the key to uncovering the answers to our little blue marble. If nothing else, that was worth the years of extensive research and experiments.

Many attempts had been made before. Some had yielded fascinating results. John had studied most attempts when he was a student, and in the years since, but Yarrow’s work was undoubtedly going to end up besides all the previous attempts, perhaps even outdoing them all.

Yarrow’s work, so the professor claimed, had found something priceless. Today’s speech was supposed to be an unveiling.

John, being John, was beyond intrigued to hear the latest, hence his appearance at the lecture.

He’d opted for something incognito. He didn’t go as far as the baseball cap and the sunglasses that his older brothers favoured, but rather an oversized hoodie and joggers. The lecture was taking place in an old hall at Oxford; John figured the student look still suited him. He had hoped it would anyhow. The last thing he wanted was to be noticed. Thankfully, with all his stints in space, he was probably the least recognisable Tracy, and he definitely preferred it that way.

So far, his disguise had been working. No-one had said a word to him and, with the exception of a polite smile exchange with the friendly blonde beside him when he took his seat — thank God he didn’t bring Scott along — John was extremely thankful for the lack of interaction. He was here for one thing and one thing only. He didn’t need or want the social part to ruin it for him.

“Friends, I have come here today to share some exciting revelations.” Yarrow continued, his voice echoing around the old lecture hall courtesy of the microphone on the stand.

“Isn’t it exciting!”

John tried not to roll his eyes as the blonde beside him leant over and whispered her exclamation. Trying to remain polite, John offered her a quick flash of a smile and a nod before returning his attention to Yarrow on stage. He could only hope she would do the same.

So much for wishful thinking.

“I was in two minds to attend the lecture today but I’m so glad I came.”

This time, John ignored her, trying (and failing, thanks to her constant whispering) to focus on Yarrow’s unveiling. John wasn’t the biggest fan of presentations, but he was beginning to wish Yarrow had opted for at least a visual aid for this talk. Hearing his words was becoming increasingly more difficult as he became increasingly more distracted.

“… Emery told me to skip it. She said that it wasn’t necessary, that already know what’s going to transpire and that will be that, but boy am I going to wipe that smug smile off her face once we—”

John gave up. He shifted in his seat, painfully taking his eyes off Yarrow at the front of the hall, and levelled with the blonde. “I don’t care about Emery or about your dilemma, I only care about—”

The blonde blinked as John took his pause, as though she were waiting for him to catch up with her hushed ramblings.

“What do you mean by you ‘already know what’s about to transpire’?”

The words were chilling. John felt uncomfortable even saying them out-loud. Of course, there was a high chance he’d misheard the rambling woman, but from the look in her eyes, he’d understood her perfectly well.

“You’re John Tracy, aren’t you?”

That’s the last time he’ll be using a hoodie as a disguise. Maybe Scott and Virgil were right when they claimed the old-fashioned baseball cap was the best accessory.

At first, John debated declining the fact and pretending to be someone else. He couldn’t pinpoint what it was exactly, but there was something about the woman beside him that unnerved him in a… peculiar way.

In the end, he decided to just come clean. “I am. Why?”

“Yarrow was a great man. He was vastly intelligent and he impressed many of our own scientists. When he first established contact, we believed it was a chance to reach out, but there were some in our governments who disagreed.” The blonde woman cast a glance around the auditorium with a sorrowful look. “Yarrow has no idea what is about to befall this hall.”

John, for all his wisdom and ability to read people, had no idea what the woman beside him was talking about. For the first time in a long time, he felt lost. It wasn’t a feeling he was particularly wanting to remain acquainted with. “What are you talking about?”

Her eyes returned to John. “The minute Yarrow unveils what he thinks is harmless space rock from under that covering… This was a mistake. I have to leave..”

“What are you talking about?” He repeated, but he never received his answer.

The blonde woman grabbed her coat from the back of her seat, apologised for the interruption to the two students sitting behind them, and then bolted for the door at the top of the auditorium.

There was never a question about it. John followed her immediately.

The woman had already made it halfway down the corridor and, once he was confident in the door behind him being closed, John yelled out to her. “Hey! Wait!”

Whilst John may have spent most of his recent years up in orbit, he still possessed speed. It was a fortunate side-effect of his long legs. If Gordon were there, he’d have expected a joke. Given the turn of events, John wasn’t sure if he was happy or lonesome without a brother’s presence.

Within a few seconds, John had caught up with the woman, holding her gently in place as he tried to gauge the situation.

“I had hoped it wouldn’t have come to this.” She was distraught. Years of working as the operator for International Rescue had taught him the signs. The woman continued, “I had hoped he’d have seen sense.”

“Come to what? Who would have seen sense?” John tried again with his questions but the blonde woman was having none of it.

With incredibly strength, she pushed past him and continued her journey towards the exit. “I’m sorry, but I have to go. Maybe you can… Though there’ll be no point.”

John chased after her again until he was blocking her path once more. He refused to allow her to just leave without giving him some sort of answer, so he tried a new tactic. He folded his arms and pretended to look unimpressed, hoping the fear that was still very much real and bubbling away beneath the surface wouldn’t show.

“I know what this is,” he began as casually as he could. “Some sort of student protest, is it?”

“What?” The woman stared at him blankly, clearly thrown off kilter by his accusation.

“Or maybe you’re trying to get a rise out of me, or something? What is it? Attention? God forbid, it isn’t money, is it?”

“What are you talking about?” She repeated his earlier question, though John was certain she hadn’t realised the irony. “This isn’t a student protest, or an attempt to grab money or—this is serious. Those people in there are going to die!”

John’s little game to retrieve information faded away the minute he got what he wanted, or at least kind of what he wanted. “That’s a very serious accusation. What makes you say that?”

“The asteroid Yarrow investigated… He got it wrong, John. He—”

Nothing ever prepares a human being to the pure agonising sound of someone being attacked, of someone dying in the most brutal of ways. The screams that echoed through the heavy duty doors to the lecture hall he’d just left would stay with John forever. Harrowing and painful. His face paled. He forgot all about the woman as he went to dash off, to try and help with whatever the hell just happened, until he felt her arm pull him back.

“We have to go and help those people! Did you not hear?”

“There is nothing you can do for them now but pray their souls find eternal peace.”

He knew she was right. It was the reason he ignored his initial instinct to run into the action to help people and turned his attention fully to the mysterious woman who had… warned him? Saved him?

“What’s your name?”

“There is not a word in any of your earthly languages that would encompass my name. Whilst I am here, I go by Genesis.”

If it wasn’t for the sheer anger he felt at a room full of people allegedly dying, John might have questioned that first part of her reply more. As it was, he didn’t.

“You knew what was going to happen. You knew, and yet you didn’t do anything!” He presented his conclusions as statements rather than questions.

Genesis bowed her head, though he wasn’t sure whether it was entirely out of shame.

“Why?” He followed up, ignoring his sudden urge to leave the place and reconvene with his brothers. “Why warn me? You know who I am.”

“That is precisely why I warned you.” Genesis retorted. She shook her head. “We shouldn’t speak here. Come, I have a more secure place where we can—”

John’s scoff and subsequent laugh was one full of scorn. “You’re mad if you think I’m going anywhere with you after all of that.”

“John, please. You must if you do not wish for this to happen again.”

His brows arched in curiosity.

Genesis noticed and took it as a cue to continue. “Yarrow is no longer a concern, but the government, my government… they will be looking to strike again. Yarrow foolishly had many pieces of what he had thought was an asteroid brought back to this planet and now… Please, we must hurry. You must trust me.”

None of the events made any sense to John. He worked on logical facts, not superstitions or conspiracy theories, but, if his gut was telling him that logical facts had no place currently. His gut was positively for the idea of accompanying Genesis to God knew where.

Facts were his safety net but, in a tight spot, John trusted his gut.

“Okay. I need to make a couple of calls first, but okay. For now, I’ll trust you.”

He just hoped he wasn’t wrong.

[dancingdanvers]

Therapy was something Sloane had been in on and off since she was young, but none had really been the right fit. The only person who ever made an effort to understand her was Doctor Joseph Wade who’d been in charge of her medication for years. When she arrived back in Aurora her parents had been desperate to get her back into his office but until she found out she was pregnant with Ryen she’d largely ignored them, but that was almost fourteen months ago now and since then she’d seen him more often. Especially since while pregnant and breastfeeding all her medication had to be carefully monitored. Signing in at the front desk she’d been sat waiting for about ten minutes when a familiar face came out of the doorway to his office and she followed the doctor inside. They were now about half an hour into their session as she sat with her hands clasped tightly together with her fingernails digging into her palms because this was always a vulnerable place to be however much she trusted Dr Wade. 

“Um so it was just…like I said I was only thinking about it because I know I can’t take those right now while I’m still uh…I’m still breastfeeding the baby….but I couldn’t stop remembering how it would just take all the pressure off for a while…make it easier to sleep...” She murmured, not looking him in the eye. @josephxwade

[ninetiescoppola]

BUT... I'M JUST A GIRL!

Last week I was switching TV channels and saw a doll commercial. I couldn’t help but wonder when was the last time that we decided if we were a Barbie, Monster High or Polly Pocket kind of person? I remember that thirteen years ago I was having a very serious discussion with my friend group about our roles in society. When I say “roles” I mean which Powerpuff Girls character we would be. 

I don’t know if it’s just me, but I feel that I’m slowly changing. Everyone I see and know seems to turn eighteen and immediately buy a penthouse and get a BMW. I might have changed physically, but my head still works like it did when I was fourteen (or sort of): still into gossip, boy bands (r.i.p), pop music, fake scenarios and obsessed with old movie franchises and celebrity crushes (please, remind me to send a thanks card to Mads Mikkelsen parents for his existence). In summary I’m a teenager with a huge Visa bill and back pain!

When I was ten, I watched a movie that completely changed my mind, something that brightened my head like an angel’s voice whispering in the ear of the most desperate soul, an absolute cinema kind of movie: Devil Wears Prada. Since I saw Anne Hathaway walking in the streets of New York with Vogue playing in the background, I knew what I wanted to do for life. It was like a message from the universe. For years I kept dreaming about graduating from a good college, working as a columnist on a big magazine and walking around wearing Prada shoes. But then, the Titanic hit the iceberg: my parents and I moved to a very small city, at least two hours away from everything. No college, no magazine, no Prada, no nada.

The funniest thing about reality checks is that even if it's been years, you’ll still be in shock, like me. I've been living in this shitty city for almost eight years and I still can’t believe that my parents did this to me. No warning or anything. I can’t blame them, after all they’re in their fifties, they deserve a calm life, but c’mon… I’m in my best era! So many hopes, dreams and youth… That’s what I thought.

While I was in high school, I still had this last light of hope in my heart that I would take the first bus to my home city when I graduated and live my life as I planned. Never happened. After moving to this living hell, my life was never the same. I just f-ing hate this place so much. I’m still trying to find out if it’s because of the place itself or if the people here really bothers me. I felt that I became a person with no joy, and that made me uninterested in everything else and very depressed. No more thoughts about my goals or anything. I just put all my emotions on ice and got a very sad/stressful job.

A few months ago I was very curious about a website with old girl games, so I took a look and there it was: makeovers, hairdressing, dressing, makeup, kiss and hide, house and wedding decorating and all a girl could imagine to fill her inner child spirit. I felt my whole body shrink and my eyes get the same size as my fist. It was love at first sight. I started to play every single one of them and it wasn’t the same feeling, something has changed. I asked myself if the sparkle was lost and became just a sad nostalgia or if I was such a terrible person with no love inside. And then I realized that it was official: I’m a grownup. But not just a simple grownup, a responsible, tired, sleepy, horny, with severe body dysmorphia, mood swings and a very questionable taste in men, kind of grownup. And I’m just twenty two. 

Don’t get me wrong, being an adult is lovely, especially the part of the payday. But if I could turn back time, I would. Ten years ago I was deciding which One Direction member I would like to marry. Now I have to get a job, pay taxes, bills and insurance. Actually, the only good part of it, it’s the money (if there’s any left).

[natalievoncatte]

“Ah, Kara. I’d hoped you’d drop by soon. I’ve just harvested some herbs.”

Kara descended slowly, her heels making contact with the stone pavers first. She waited for a moment in reflective silence before removing her boots as she entered the passcode and set them aside in the entryway.

“It’s a shame how many have been lost. I often find myself ruminating in the tragedy of the millions of years it took for, say, parsley to evolve, only to meet its end less a few hundred thousand years after we discovered agriculture.”

She swept a finger through her short hair.

When Vandal Savage saw her, he paused in the motion of stirring the vegetables in his fry pan and studied the new scars leaving cleft marks in her face and the touches of gray around her temples, where summer wheat gave way to a moon of winter night.

“Ah,” he said, “it’s started, hasn’t it? Rather prematurely, I must say.”

“It’s started, said Kara. “The sun is turning red. Ahead of schedule.”

“How long do you think we have?” Vandal asked. “And are you staying for dinner? I’ve been working on my gyoza recipe. I’d be delighted if you try it. The new tubers I’ve bred are almost like carrots.”

“I’m here about the time portal, Vandal.”

He sighed. “I know. It’s rather unhealthy I think.”

“I don’t care,” said Kara.

“How long has it been?” Vandal said, pouring himself a glass of the sweet, fermented drink he made from a yellow berry. “Ten thousand years? Twenty? It all fades together, and yet you can’t let go of… how long was it? Sixty or seventy years, so long ago that the civilization you arrived in is gone and turned to dust?”

“It was fourteen years, Vandal.”

“Not very long in the scheme of things.”

“Not very long at all, Kara agreed. “Not very long at all.”

“Is this the part where you give me the ‘I can fix it, I can save her’ speech again, Kara? How many times do I have to tell you, the portal doesn’t work that way. We can’t go back in time ourselves, and the messages you sent back all failed.”

“You said we can’t travel back to a time in which we already exist,” Kara said, looking out over his domed gardens.

“And we can’t. So that’s that.”

“It’s not,” said Kara. “Unlike you, there are times where I temporarily didn’t exist in this universe. I was somewhere else.”

Vandal Savage stopped, considering.

“Oh, what the hell. Why not?”

[syngrafaes09]

Next Door Neighbour | Bucky Barnes x Y/N

Logline: It was a simple arrangement, he thought - two people with nightmares agreeing to sleep next each other. But little did he know her secrets were darker than night itself.

Masterlist

Part - 2

He once again readjusted the sleeve of his T-shirt and gloves before knocking at her door. Seconds later the door clicked open. He had finally made the call after two nights.

“You came,” she exclaimed, opening it wide for him to enter. He was supposed to be here two hours earlier. She had almost given up hope ten minutes ago when the clock struck eleven.

“Yeah. I was having cold feet.” he nervously scratched the back of his neck. She smiled, shook her head, and bolted the door. “Considering and reconsidering.”

“I’m glad you came.”

She led him through the narrow hallway. He could hear the soft noise of the TV from the first room on their right. 

The living room was similar to his. Except the couch looked more comfortable than his, two bookshelves flanked the window opening to the side yard and a few pictures hung on the right wall. The TV was playing the Tonight Show with Jimmy Fallon.

“You’ve got a beautiful place,” he commented, settling on the armchair across from her.

“Thank you.” She turned down the volume. “What do you usually do before going to bed?”

“Sometimes I watch TV, other times maybe read a book.”

Y/n nodded, fiddling with the hem of her white dress. This was much more awkward than she had imagined. “Would you like some wine? Or beer?”

“Uh, thank you. Anything would be nice. I’ll have what you have.”

She nodded once again. And disappeared into the hall. 

Bucky exhaled and looked around the lightly lit room. He focused on the pictures hanging in front of him - the first one was of a man standing on a bridge, the second one of Y/N from her graduation ceremony, the third one of a toddler and the last one again of the man and Y/n together standing beside a creek in the forest. 

Y/n returned with two beer bottles.

“How long have you lived here?” he asked before taking his first sip.

“About 6 years. I came here three months before the blip.”

“Is that your husband?”

She glanced at the photos. He couldn’t exactly say her emotions but they were similar on the line of longing and regret. The longing was similar to the one he had seen in Steve’s eyes. “Ex-husband,” she replied, taking another sip. “We separated ten years ago.”

“I’m sorry. But you don’t strike me that old.”

“No, I guess I’m not,” she chucked. “I turned thirty-two last summer. I had been with Adam since I was fourteen. He was sort of my guardian after my parents died. I loved him, we got married and three years later he wanted to leave.” She gave him a sad smile. “Enough about me, tell me about you.”

He blinked. He didn’t know what to say about him. He could certainly not tell her that he was over a hundred years old. Had assassinated over two dozen people. Was a brainwashed super soldier. No, none of that could be revealed to her. “What do you want to know about me?”

“Anything,” she said. “Where did you grow up? What’s your job like? Your life partners, if any? And so on.”

“I grew up in Brooklyn.” He took a sip as his mind went haywire trying to intricate truth with lies. “I joined the army. Was in Russia and Germany between the missions-”

“Mommy,” a half-sleepy voice interrupted him. He let out a breath of relief at the God-sent angel. Both of them looked towards the boy standing near the door of the living room.

“Oh, baby,” Y/n whispered and rushed to him. “You had a bad dream again?” She crouched in front of him, running her fingers through his messy hair.

He shook his head, “Just got up,” and looked over her shoulder. “Is that daddy?” he asked, looking at the strange figure.

“No, love. That’s Uncle James from next door.” The boy examined him once again. “Shall we get you back to bed?” He nodded.

Picking him up in her arms, Y/n turned back, “Would you like to come up?”

“Sure,” he replied, following them.

Tags : @vicmc624 @just-another-fanfiction-writer

[rhubarb4745]

i want to write an essay about being on psychiatric medication & the havoc it wreaked on my body rly bad but idk where to start or how to frame it. rly it was just so fucked up. i went on celexa when i was ten and had rly bad side effects. when i went to the psych ward when i was twelve they put me on lexapro and i was back in a week. then i ended up on antipsychotics even tho i wasn't manic/psychotic at all -- later i asked my mom why & she said it was bc i was operating in a way that was 'like you weren't living in reality' referring to my irrational responses to sexual abuse -- which, duh! when i was in 8th grade i was in a dissociative fugue state for more than a year. i was so outside my body it was terrifying. i felt like i was on drugs all the time. my mood stabilizers made me start lactating -- i was fourteen!!! i would soak thru my bras and tank tops. all my shit was stained. a few weeks ago i was texting w my best friend from that time & she reminded me about how during sleepovers i would convulse in my sleep. she often thought i was having seizures but it was just my meds. i would also do it while i was falling asleep. i had horrible restless leg syndrome, i remember this one night a boy i was sleeping on the couch with at my cousin's house almost called 911 because he thought i was dying. i was sick all the time; sometimes i would forget doses and puke or i would take them at the wrong time and puke or i wouldn't eat beforehand and i would puke or i would eat too much beforehand and i would puke. i forget exactly what i was on when i was 15-16 or so but as soon as i took them i would have to lay down or i would puke. i couldn't even sit up for ten minutes. i was never happy. they barely worked. i was on such high doses. when i stopped taking trazodone in high school my mom was also on it. i was taking double her dose every night and still couldn't sleep. i went off of everything when i was seventeen after i hyperventilated in my psychiatrist's office about how nothing had ever worked. we titrated off of everything really carefully and slowly. i had the WORST side effects. even the stuff he said would have no side effects for most people going off them absolutely tore my body up. i was in hell for months. when i came out the other side of the withdrawals i was happier than i had been in years. when we were driving i told my dad i could see the sunset again

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Beyond the Blood Tie - Chapter Thirty.

Huge thanks to all of those offering their commentary on this. You’re so wonderful to me! :)

Previous Chapters - One  Two, Part One Part Two  Three  Four  Five  Six  Seven  Eight  Nine  Ten  Eleven  Twelve  Thirteen  Fourteen  Fifteen  Sixteen  Seventeen  Eighteen  Nineteen  Twenty  Twenty One  Twenty Two  Twenty Three  Twenty Four  Twenty Five  Twenty Six  Twenty Seven  Twenty Eight  Twenty Nine

Words - 4,917

Tag list - In the comments. Please DM to be added/removed

Warnings - 18+ content throughout. Minors DNI!

Edie's POV

"So there I was, and I could see the manhole cover moving, and I knew what was underneath it. I got down low on my stomach, so my gun would be right at the right level to get it right between its eyes, and then a fucking car drove straight over the manhole and smashed its head off just before I was about to shoot it! That's the closest I got to any of 'em, and I was just nineteen years old so this was when most of them had been eliminated by you guys and the military," Vic explains to Angel, while I sit back and laugh along with Ahmed at the story, who joined us unexpectedly about a half our ago. He was out already but not having a particularly good evening after meeting an old girlfriend from school, who he described as dull as dishwater these days, so he made his excuses and called me to see where I was at.

"See when I joined up, there were very few of them left and most of them were confined to the sewer systems. That's something I'll never forget, at my fucking height having to bend almost double to navigate my way through the Vegas sewers with a rifle, popping off any the reanimated who got in my way. You know, I heard there's still some alive, when I was still with the military. Apparently, they had a few locked up in labs doing tests on them to find out exactly what the D11X virus did to them, how it was possible for them to die yet walk and have a compulsion to eat other people as well as anything else they could take sustenance from," Ahmed adds to the conversation. Being the youngest here, and still just a child when the last of the reanimated were killed off (I've never seen one, and by the time I was born they were all driven underground, living off rats) I'm mostly sitting here nodding. I then supress a giggle when it occurs to me that I'm the girlfriend of the oldest sat here.

"I'm going to leave you guys to it for a minute and head to get another round," I quickly interject, just before Angel is about to speak, excusing myself and heading back indoors. It's fairly busy in here tonight, and because of which I have to wait for a while to be served, but when the people thin out the girl with the blue black hair and the beautiful rosy cheeks behind the bar dashes over to me.

"Two draught beers and a double bourbon on the rocks please," I recite, watching her fetch two beer glasses and put them under the taps before switching them on, picking up the glasses again and tilting them at an angle. There's definitely an art to pouring a beer right from the tap. Donny, the guy who owns our usual hangout let me and Max try one time. Oh boy, the mess we made. Foam everywhere, with a drunken Max and I flicking it at each other.

"Do you mind if I ask, that guy with the short, black hair, are you with him?" she asks, looking a little nervous and wincing slightly.

"Yes, he's my boyfriend," I reply with a smile to indicate she's nothing to feel nervous about. She can look and admire; she just can't have.

"Ahhh, damnit, he's hot. I like vampires too, they're just…" she says, trailing off.

"They're a better fuck than humans are?" I suggest, after leaning in closer to her over the bar.

"Hell yeah.” We share knowing laughter as she hands me the beers before turning to sort my drink.

"Twenty-two dollars darlin', and you enjoy him for me too, you hear me?" she says with a wink as I hand her the right money.

"Oh, you can bet on that!" I wink, picking up the drinks and heading back to the outside area.

"Hey honey, don't be so fast to leave, you have the kind of ass I'd like to get to know," the guy who was standing next to me at the bar says as I walk past, my feet stopping when I feel him touch my butt.

"You get that one for free because I have my hands full. Try it again and you'll be wearing these drinks, shortly before I punch your fucking teeth out. I'm a punisher, don't fuck with me 'honey'," I spit at him, putting extra sarcastic emphasis on my last word to him before I turn and head back outside without further incident.

"Why are you angry?" Angel asks as soon as I sit down opposite him again, reaching for my hand and then kissing my palm.

"Just some jerk giving me the come on is all, nothing to worry about," I say dismissively, feeling a flare of anger rise within him only to settle again quickly. I like how I can physically feel him trusting my word. It's a lovely bond we have with each other, through our blood tie. It makes us a lot closer than your average human/human relationship. He then seems to become less interested in the conversation and more interested in staring at me. After eyeing me for a time, smiling with a certain look in his eyes, he pulls me around to his side of the table, and onto his lap.

That's the thing with Angel; he has no boundaries with public displays of affection. If he wants to drag me onto his lap and begin kissing my neck and whispering both loving and very sexual things to me then that's just what he's going to do. I just sit and giggle, while Vic gives me a surprised and slightly shocked look. When him and Ahmed both then look at each other before getting up at the same time and moving to the next table down, it causes me to begin laughing much more loudly. It's just a shame it has to be ruined when I step inside to go to the bathroom a half hour later.

"So now you've got your hands free, you can grab my ass back when I grab yours. How about it, pretty girl?" the same creep from earlier offers, blocking my way.

"Do you not fucking listen? What are you on, a deliberate mission to piss me off or something?" I fume, folding my arms.

"No, I just want me a piece of what you've got," he shrugs, suddenly making a grab for me.

"You fucking dare! Don't you fucking touch me!" I yell, pushing him away, Angel arriving at my side and then reaching out and pulling the guy back. Oh, god. I know what this is, the suspicion going off in my head like an alarm.

"Did you just try to touch her? I don't take kindly to that, human pieces of shit like you laying their hands on my girl," he snarls at him, while the human just looks defiant. Okay, Angel, you need to see this for what it possibly is.

"Put him down, you know you can't hit him. You know why too," I whisper quietly while he continues to hold the man by his throat and growl at him. Three seconds later and he drops him, staring at him dangerously as he fights for breath again, and then begins to laugh.

"Ain't even gonna give me a slap for it. You fucking pussy ass dead man," he taunts him with, riling him up hugely while I put myself between them, staring at Angel pleadingly as I grasp his face in my hands. “Don’t do it.”

"He might not slap you down, but I sure as fuck will," I hear the voice of Ahmed come from behind us, his huge form coming past at speed, grabbing the guy and literally throwing him over his shoulder with one arm and marching him straight outside. When he returns moments later, he's wiping blood from his knuckles.

"I broke his nose on your behalf," he tells Angel, cracking his blood knuckles.

"Thank you," he nods, doing a very un-vampire thing and shaking hands with Ahmed.

"If he decides to report you, your ass is getting disciplined and fined, you know," I warn, giving him a hug in thanks. It's not every day my friend here breaks someone's nose in defence of my honour.

"It was worth it, because I managed to slide his wallet out of his pocket and get this before I dropped him and his wallet back on the floor and punched him. I followed Angel in, but your back was to me, and I heard you telling him not to go for that dude, and I figured why pretty quickly, the discrediting Ursula business," Ahmed replies, handing the driving license card to Angel, who takes it from him with a look of mild surprise.

"I'd planned to follow him, but this is even better. I can give this to Ursula and she can have him watched. Good thinking, big man." Angel praises, before they turn and head back outside and I finally get to go to the bathroom. After I'm done, I head back out, all of us deciding not to tell Vic what went down inside. He's none the wiser anyway, being lost in conversation about boxing with a guy a table over from ours. It'd be pointless to upset him. Plus, it means he'd be another person we'd have to involve in all of this, and as it is Ursula wants to keep as many of us out of it as she can. We (Angel, EZ and I) still don't even know exactly what she's doing to try and prove her innocence and get to the bottom of Elias's little scheme, so we have to keep everything on the down low.

Our night comes to an end at 1am, when Vic informs us all he's too old to be out drinking that late any longer, so after picking up a bottle of bourbon for Ahmed and I to share, we head back to Angel's place, ready to tell Ursula about what happened tonight. Except when we all arrive, it would seem the lady herself has her attention distracted from the minute her eyes land upon my buddy.

"Who are you, you beautiful creature?" She asks, arriving right in front of him with a look on her face that shows her interest loud and clear.

"Ahmed Khamir, and you must be Ursula. Wow, Angel didn't tell me you were such a fucking knock out, damn," he says approvingly, taking her hand and kissing it while Ursula smiles in an almost bashful way.

"You're of Arab blood. I like that, perhaps more than I should," she confesses, her eyes not leaving his. Do I sense an atmosphere building here?

"Because you're married?" he inquires.

She shakes her head. Oooh, she even did a little hair swish. Get it, girl! "No, my husband and I are not monogamous. It is because I have never, ever been able to resist a good looking Arab, and you are definitely just that.”

"Pardon me, but before you get too involved in tripping over your tongues, Ursula I have to speak with you for a moment," Angel interjects with, trying not to sound as amused by this as he actually is. I can tell he's dying to laugh at how utterly enamoured his creator is with my friend so quickly. "Let's just say you'll have another reason to like this guy when you hear what I have to tell you." Ursula looks at him curiously before seeing us through to her sitting room, still hardly able to tear her eyes away from Ahmed. I think I know what she'll be doing later. My friend, by the look of things.

Angel's POV

"Well my boy, you were right. I do like him even more now I see just how quick witted he is. Ahmed, I thank you greatly for this. This is perhaps the first concrete lead I might have over which vampires are involved in all of this on Elias's behalf. I can now have eyes put upon this human, to identify any of my kind coming to converse with him," Ursula explains, while looking down at the card license in her hand.

"You're welcome, and could I trouble you for a couple of glasses so Edie and I can get stuck into this?" Ahmed replies, putting down the bottle of bourbon on the table.

"Of course, just one moment," she replies before disappearing momentarily, returning in a couple of seconds with two glasses. As it turns out, the conversation had is mainly between Ursula and Ahmed, who it doesn't take a genius to work out will be naked together at some point before the morning arrives, by the way they're acting around each other. In light of this, Edie and I just sit and talk quietly together, before leaving them to it. They don't even notice us leave. Just as we're about to head upstairs I notice Charles arrive, my wolves running to the front door, barking and wagging their tails happily, gratified when the vampire himself walks through and bends to pet them warmly.

"Stop spoiling them," I say with an eye roll when he pulls out two cookies from his pocket and gives them one each.

"The human guests we had in from the USAC food and drink division for a meeting over the introduction of Synthiblood onto the market didn't eat them with their coffees, so I thought it a shame they go to waste when these two would appreciate them," he replies as he grabs Thor's tail and gives it a shake, making my big wolf spin around and growl at him, yapping excitedly as Charles teases him with his hand before ruffling his ears. "Have you both had a pleasant evening?" he then goes on to ask us politely. I inform him we did before the incident with someone trying to grab a handful of Edie, and then what followed it.

"Well, he could very well be some random pervert, but it was quick thinking on Ahmed's part just in case he was there for a reason, to cause trouble and throw a bad light on Angel and ultimately Ursula too. Yes, I shall thank him personally once my wife is finished with him. I knew she'd want to play with him as soon as I met him." he replies, sounding amused. Of course, he knows Ahmed is here, even if he couldn't hear him, he'd smell him. To us vampires, all of you humans have a unique smell we can detect to only come from you. Edie and I head upstairs after our brief chat with Charles, where she takes the bourbon she decanted into a plain decorative bottle Ursula lent her to share out the drink between her and Ahmed, and pours herself another glass before she heads to the window and sits herself on the end of the couch to have a cigarette.

"I'm sorry," I suddenly find myself telling her.

"Whatever for, my gorgeous vampire?" she asks me with a slight note of concern in her voice, reaching for my hand after I've walked over to her.

"For the fact that since you met me, I've brought you little more than a fucking lot of trouble. For the way I was when we first met to what we now face, becoming involved in all of this mess with Ursula. That's what I'm sorry for," I state, moving her so I can sit on the arm of the couch and perch her on my lap.

"You've also brought me the most beautiful, amazing love I've ever known, and anything I have to go through for that is fine by me. You've nothing to be sorry for, none of this is your fault," she reassures me, taking another drag on her cigarette.

"I just hope the arrival of Constance will prove of some use in getting to the bottom of all this," I sigh, moving her hair from her shoulder to rest my chin against it, kissing the side of her neck.

She leans into me, stroking my forearm. "Have you ever met her before, Constance?"  

"No, I haven't. She lived down in Texas briefly for about twenty five years after the disaster before she left, and she's been in France ever since with her youngest offspring, who'll be coming with her," I say, adding a little 'no!' for Icarus, who is trying to pull one of my socks off my foot. That was his favourite trick to do as a cub, and not much has changed since. Another thing I blame Charles for, since he taught him to do it by shouting 'socks!' and pointing at his feet before Icarus would run up and pull each of them off, but then rag them around like toys. I lost count of how many pairs of socks we all collectively lost to that wolf.

"Are you looking forward to meeting her?" She then asks, taking a sip of her drink.

“I guess.” I’m not that much of a fan of Constance, being that she abandoned Ursula so early into her vampirism. “I am looking forward to the fact she'll more than likely get to the bottom of this mess. Anyway, I don't want to talk about Ursula's creator any longer. In fact, I don't want to talk at all.” She giggles filthily when I reach to begin squeezing her tits, softly biting her neck.

I pick her up and carry her over to the bed to put her down in the middle, kissing the side of her neck as my hands wander all over her body, traveling across every fabric covered curve before I use them to remove those clothes. The feeling of her hands moving under my t shirt and stroking my abs with her fingernails makes a low rumble of a moan emanate from somewhere deep in my throat, her touch as potently erotic as ever, and she doesn't even need to touch me in an sexual place. Edie can stroke my hand and I'll feel aroused, simply because she's the one doing it.

As soon as she's bare to her waist, I begin running my fingers up and down her arms and sides, all the while my mouth moving to kiss and lick at each of her tits, paying special attention to her nipples until they're hard as bullets against my tongue. Her body quakes with little judders as she reacts to my touch, her legs winding around me as my hands travel under her body to grip her ass momentarily, before I slide them up and down her thighs, reuniting my mouth with hers. I then move to sit up and pull the rest of her clothes off, grabbing her just below the knee and pulling her down the bed a little before turning her over onto her front, and kissing my way back up her body from her legs to her shoulders. Running my hand through her hair, I take a handful at the roots and pull her head sharply to the side which causes her to gasp, that gasp turning into a slightly whimpered moan when my fangs bite into her neck. I use my free hand to run over her gorgeous skin as I feed, kneading each of her ass cheeks before my fingers slip between her legs and push into her wet warmth.

I feel the inner muscles grip onto my middle and fourth finger, her moans soft, again my actions forcing a considerably louder noise to exit her mouth when I bite down onto one of her gorgeous ass cheeks, and then quickly move beneath her to begin licking her clit while my fingers remain deep inside her. I work her to the point of no return quickly, wanting to feel her come undone at the moment I intend to plunge my cock into her as deeply as my fingers are burrowed currently. That point arrives just seconds later, Edie's gasps and shouts in exclamation only becoming louder when she feels me move to sink every last inch into her. I pause for only a moment to feel her wet heat fluttering around me before fucking her senseless for the next three hours. I'm at my happiest when sexually entwined with her.

"I need a drink," she croaks once we’re done, still out of breath as she rests her forehead to my chest. I've never known another human woman with the leg strength able to last on top for quite as long as my beloved. She's been riding me for the last hour, and now she's all shaky and very sweaty. Gently moving her onto her back, I shoot out of bed and return with her booze, but she shakes her head when I put it down on the nightstand.

"I need juice, could you go fetch the bottle from the fridge please? I'm too sore to move still," she laughs.  

"Of course, I will. Be right back." Kissing her forehead, I throw my jeans back on and zoom out of there, arriving in the kitchen and grabbing the juice from the fridge, turning to see a shirtless Ahmed standing in the open kitchen doorway, smoking a cigarette. I'm too busy laughing at the state of his back to leave immediately, putting the juice bottle down on the table and laughing even more when he turns around with a raised eyebrow, and I see puncture wounds to his neck and shoulders, and blood still glinting in his black chest hair. Damn. Mama got herself some.

"Needless to say, you've enjoyed yourself," I exclaim through my laughter. I could have heard it for myself, or even felt as much through Ursula's emotions, but we vampires can shut off that connection and tune out to any noise we don't want to hear. I was busy myself at the time though, of course.

"I'd ask the same of you, but I know your answer matches mine, bro," he replies, laughing a little.

I smile smugly at that. “Hell yeah, I did. Oh, watch your head in approximately five minutes, that's when the shutters will automatically drop over the door.”

“Appreciated, man.” he smiles, before making a beckoning motion with his hand, pointing outside. "There's a vampire just around the corner from here, but I guess you knew that, huh?"

"Yes, I know," I confirm.

"Have they been following us since we left the bar?"

"Yeah, but I didn't want to say anything. You feel our presence a lot more strongly than anyone else I've ever met, Edie and Aileen included. You have some exceedingly sharpened senses. You'd make a damn good vampire, you know." I leave him with, moving within a blink back upstairs. Who the fuck knows who's following us now, though? Vampires sent by Elias or the vigilantes against the TVM, or the TVM themselves. It could be any of those options. I'm getting sick of this, being followed, having trouble turning up on the doorstep and dead bodies being unearthed in the back yard. Elias needs to make his move and try his best hand or stop with the games and back the fuck off. Either way, he won't win. Ursula is too smart.

"Thank you," Edie tells me as I pass her the juice, dropping my jeans and then getting back into bed with her, lighting a few candles melted onto the nightstand as the blinds come down, shutting out the dawn. "So, you haven't told me yet. What do you think of Vic?" she then asks, after sipping her juice and putting the bottle down on the nightstand.

"He didn't irritate me at all, which is quite exceptional for humans, but then again the people you keep close to you aren't overly annoying to us vampires. I thought he was quite a remarkable man, and he obviously cares for you a hell of a lot. I enjoyed listening to his stories of his days as a boxer, and everything he told me about you growing up too. It was nice to hear of your life back then from someone other than you. He's a good guy," I say, feeling drowsier by the moment since the sun is coming up.

She beams brightly, moving to cuddle against me. "I'm glad, because I think he liked you a lot too, and you should take that as a compliment since Vic is wary of vampires. Anyway, your beautiful eyes are growing heavy, time for sleep. I love you.”

"I love you too." Wrapping her in my arms, I gladly close my eyes, sleep taking over. When I wake up again, I find Edie is gone, but there is a note in the space she once occupied. It says she's gone for a run with my wolves and she'll be back by about 6pm, and with that I get up, shower and dress before quickly heading out to procure a feed (since my usual food source is off running) and then return home to sit out in the back yard with EZ talking.

"Do you think the arrival of Constance is going to help any in all of this? I just wish there was something Ursula could do about what evidence she's gathered so far, such as the link between this and Dawn Cavendish, because of course as soon as Elias gets wind of it, we're fucked," I tell my brother, watching him nodding.

"You're right there, and as for if Constance can shed any light on these events, well I hope so. I can tell how frustrated Charles is at present, he has more on his mind than he's willing to reveal to me. I respect them for the fact they're trying to keep us out of this, but at the same time, I'd do anything to help them," he reveals, something which I immediately agree with.

"Yeah, as do I. Even something as small as following Dawn and tracking her movements, or tailing that human guy in the bar, anything to help them with this," I sigh. "I'd give my own life to protect Ursula."  

"I know you would, but she wouldn't let you do it. She'd sooner die herself than see you meet your end, just as Charles would with me. To speak of the devil," EZ says, Charles appearing out of nowhere.

"Constance has just called. She is on her way here from the airport, where she and her offspring have been resting throughout the day in the vampire suite. She said half an hour, give or take with the traffic, so make yourselves presentable and do it sharpish," he informs us both. The vampire suite in case you wondered is a large room containing nothing but caskets, either ones provided there if vampires are flying in close to dawn, or vampires flying into the airport already within a flight casket, should their journey have been long enough to warrant them to travel inside where they're protected from the sun.

"I thought we were quite presentable as we were," EZ comments casually, but with amusement in his voice. He knows how fussy Charles can be when guests visit.

"At least have the grace to put a shirt on, my boy." Charles states in a slightly pained voice, making EZ and I laugh.

“Chill out, Charlie,” I can’t help but tease, earning a glare.

“Do not call me that.” His stony face has us in hysterics, Charles further complaining. “Bad sons, naughty sons. Should be put in a bloody cage!”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time,” I smirk, Charles making a throttling motion at my neck before he leaves us to it. We both go back into the house, and it's only another five minutes before a very hot and sweaty Edie arrives home with my wolves, and also a big bag on her back. I suggested she go get some clothes to bring here to she has a good supply of everything else she needs when she says with me, and it seems she's taken me up on that suggestion. After she's showered and dressed in fresh clothes, a long grey dress I bought for her recently, I help her put away her stuff and then we sit and talk for the five minutes remaining until I see headlights lighting up the front of the house through my window. Constance has arrived.

"EZ, Angel, come on," Ursula calls, as I hear the doors of the car opening and closing, taking Edie's hand in mine and walking down the stairs, EZ behind us ready to meet my creator's creator. As soon as the door is opened to her, I get such a shock that I feel like I'm going to faint for a second, and we vampires cannot pass out. My shock, it isn't over Constance at all, it's over the vampire who is with her, and that shock is shared by both me and EZ. We both stand and stare at him in utter disbelief, until one word comes from both of our mouths at the exact same time.

"Coco?"

No, that can't be... but it is. There he is, the friend, the MC brother we thought we lost to the disaster. Oh my fucking god!