#a small phrase that will only make sense to a few people

[asavt]

Tension

[ceesimz]

Evergreen

Glimpses of your relationship. (Autistic Reader)

Reverie series can be found here. This is structured differently than the rest, it's multiple blurbs in one that I've written over time, which has definitely made it unnecessarily long but it's super light-hearted and fluffy so hopefully it's worth it

Being in a committed, serious relationship was new to you. You had dated, and… that was about it. That’s as far as things had gone in the past. 

Yet, here you were, making your way through the airport after spending Christmas back home in ice cold, snowy Norway, a small smile on your face at the thought of the person waiting to pick you up and take you home.

It was a strange adjustment, that was for sure, but a very welcome one. Having someone at your side felt… comforting. Knowing you could go to her for anything at any time was comforting. However, sometimes it worried you that you had to commit your every day to her. Not in the sense that you couldn’t settle down with her and her only, no way. Instead, you were anxious about the fact that there were times you needed your alone time, where you needed the world to quieten down a little to give you the space you needed to regulate yourself. Would Alexia understand that? Or would it irritate her that sometimes the only thing she’d get from you was radio silence?

In the end, you didn’t need to worry for even just a second. As a matter of fact, you found that peace in Alexia’s company. Not all the time of course, that wasn’t entirely realistic and time alone was still something you needed, just… less often. You wanted to spend everyday with her, even when you were mentally exhausted or burnt-out and so stressed you feared your hair would turn grey. 

You hadn’t planned to fall in love within mere months of living in Barcelona, nor had you expected to fall for a teammate. However, sometimes the most surprising things end up being the best. You adored Alexia and all that she was, especially when she demanded that she drop you off and pick you up from the airport and left no room for arguing. 

The sight of her waiting for you as you walked out of the arrivals door was worth the ten days of torture being away from her. There was no way in hell you could have controlled the shy, excited grin on your face as you wandered over to her.

She didn’t hesitate in holding her arms out when you got closer, an equally sheepish smile greeting you before you stepped into her space. The blonde let out an audible sigh of relief when her chin landed on your shoulder, holding you tightly against her whilst your hands slipped underneath the puffer jacket she wore and landed on the small of her back atop her sweater. For a few moments, the pair of you indulged in the comfort of the other after going so long without it. Hundreds of people passed by you as you did, each of them nothing more than a fleeting stranger with a life as complex as your own, yet your interest in their stories and the lives they led paled in comparison to the all-consuming feeling of Alexia’s embrace. 

Despite how you had technically just gone home, back to Norway where you grew up with all your family around you, that reuniting hug was… something more. Something deeper. You couldn’t quite put your finger on what it was about it.

“How are you? How was the flight?” She murmured quietly, pressing her lips to your coat-covered shoulder before leaning back and gazing down at you.

“Tired. My mind is frazzled.” Alexia scrunched her nose at the unfamiliar phrase, and though she had never heard it before, she seemed to understand what you meant by it. You smiled at her as she did it, finding it much more adorable than you'd ever care to admit.

“Let's get you home, eh? With… with me? I stay?” She asked, wanting nothing more than to fall onto the sofa with you and lay there for the rest of her days.

“Yes, god yes. I missed you.” You told her. The blonde chuckled softly and pulled you back in, this time with her cheek resting against your forehead as you nuzzled your nose against her jaw.

“Sí, I will stay with you. Por supuesto.” Alexia said in a whisper, her lips pressing a kiss to your temple. “I missed you too. It was so strange without you.”

“How so?” You wondered, content to stay there in her arms with the warmth of her drowning out the cool chill of the terminal.

“I was sad. Whenever I had some free time, I went to ask if you wanted to come over or I go to you or we have food together or something. But you weren't here and then I was sad. I'm never sad.” You giggled at the last statement, because despite staying in touch whilst you were gone with both calls and texts frequently throughout the day, it was nowhere near the same as being there in person. You understood exactly what she meant.

“Don't be silly, you're the most popular person in Barcelona. You know everyone there somehow, nevermind the thousands of fans too.” 

“Maybe, but none of them are you.” 

Your first instinct was to roll your eyes at her statement, which made her grin, but it did something to you. To you and your heart, to the butterflies in your stomach.

“Calla, Ale.” You shook your head, though spoke with a sheepish gratitude to your voice and a weakness to your knees that had her laughing quietly.

“I am being serious. I wanted you to have an amazing time at home but I wanted the days to go fast so I could see you again.” 

Her hand that landed on your cheek stopped you from turning away from her out of embarrassment at her sweet words, and you barely had a moment to scold her before she leaned down and finally kissed you. Each of you were overcome with a sense of relief, of yearning, of adoration, yet there was one stand-out thought which you both had– there was no way you could go that long without it again. And for Alexia, well, she also knew there was never another person in the world that could make her feel the way you did with just one kiss. It broke off sooner than you wanted, simply because not one of you could stop smiling.

“Take me home now?” You said, gazing at her as she blinked at you a couple times before snapping back into the reality. You giggled, spotting the exact moment she came out of her thoughts, which were overflowing with you, and nodded.

In moments like this, it was hard to believe that you were hardly three weeks into the relationship. Yet, if this was what three weeks had in store for you, you couldn’t wait to see what a lifetime held.

There was a bit of that playful back and forth that you adored when she took your suitcase from you, arguing something to do with being a gentlewoman, and you let her. Who were you to resist her? Dumb, that’s for sure. So she wheeled your bag to her parked car, your hand grasping onto her upper arm, in a comfortable silence. With it, came quiet excitement that formed between you, only now processing the fact you were back in each other’s company and had the next few days to spend time together before training started up again. 

Nothing could have prepared you for the complete and utter domesticity that took over your apartment when you stepped foot inside again. 

Firstly, it started with Alexia heading to the kitchen whilst you went to your bedroom to drop off your bags and unpack the main things from your backpack. Unbeknownst to you, while you were out of the country, Alexia had borrowed Ingrid's key to your flat so that she could organise a few small surprises she hoped you would appreciate. And appreciate them you did.

Just as you were beginning to feel a little overwhelmed at the thought of all the chores that coming back from a vacation had to offer, the door to your room creaked open and in walked your girlfriend with a mug of your favourite hot chocolate in her hand. With a disbelieving smile on your face, you happily accepted it, placing a grateful kiss to her check as your silent way of thanking her.

And as if it couldn't get any better, with a quiet, loving murmur, the blonde persuaded you to leave your bags until tomorrow, not afraid to admit that she would much rather spend the evening in your arms than to see you add to your own stress by trying to get everything organised straight after a flight. You were glad to take her up on her advice because you walked into your lounge to a coffee table filled with surprises. A fresh bouquet of flowers, a new candle, the softest looking blanket you might have ever seen, one of Alexia's folded-up hoodies, and a small gift-wrapped box. You felt overwhelmed, but this time in the best way possible – because you felt wholly and completely loved, even if the pair of you hadn't said that specific word yet.

The only thing you could do to repay such kindness was by granting her wish of doing nothing but cuddling with you on the couch. So you did exactly that. With Alexia's hoodie on, which you realised was her favourite, you both lay down on the sofa and got comfy. Your head was on her chest, tucked perfectly under her chin, with the new blanket that exceeded your softness expectations covering you both, and the most adorable Christmas tree decoration hanging off a pine branch in the corner of the room. According to her, Alexia had chosen it whilst at the Christmas markets, seeing the beautifully crafted glass decoration and thinking of you. Though, she also went on to admit that she thought of you all of the time, hence why she had bought multiple small gifts for you whilst you were gone.

Neither of you planned to fall asleep, but it seemed that had been the case when Alexia woke up some time later, you still on top of her and sleeping. She glanced at her phone and her heart dropped when she saw the time. You hadn't spent the night together at this point of your relationship, yet here the midfielder was, still on your couch at 1am. 

Maybe it was slightly unfair of her, but she would have truthfully done anything to stay in that moment, with you completely at peace lay on top of her. So she lingered for a minute or two, one hand on the back of your head as the other slipped under her jumper and softly trailed her fingertips up and down your warm skin. She closed her eyes and rested for just a second, before letting out a slightly stifled sigh and raising her head from where she had laid back. She gazed down at you, your cheek slightly smushed against her chest and your lips parted as you let out small breaths every so often, and did her best to memorise the sight for herself.

“Cariño.” She whispered, gently nudging your shoulder to wake you up so she could leave. If it was up to her, she would just slip out quietly and not wake you, but she knew the anxieties that would most likely cause for you and that was the last thing she wanted. “Wake up, cari. Por favor.”

“Shh. Sleep.” You grumbled, burying your face further into her neck and pulling the blanket tighter around you.

“No, mi amor.” Alexia chuckled softly, which only had you groaning. “Sorry. I have to go, it's the middle of the night.”

“Just stay, Ale.” You told her. Now that, she wasn't expecting. And if you weren't toeing the line between awake and asleep, you probably wouldn't have said it either.

“S…stay?” She repeated, though got no response from you. “Wake up, wake up. Just for a minute while I go.”

You reluctantly opened your eyes then, if only to frown when you lifted your head up to look at her properly.

“Why do you want to leave?” You asked in a slightly anxious mumble, those worries that Alexia wanted to avoid appearing anyway. To quell them quickly, she cupped your cheek and leaned forward to kiss your forehead.

“Because we haven't spent the night together yet and I don't want to cross any boundaries. This is your space, I don't want to intrude and overstay my welcome.” She answered sincerely, gazing at you so softly that had you been standing, your knees would have surely buckled. 

Those three words were so close to slipping out then, but you feared it was too early and you didn't want to scare her away just as you'd gotten her back. She kept you and your needs in mind at all times- not an overbearing amount, instead in a way where she somehow always knew the moment it was necessary for her to voice her willingness to cater for them. You'd known each other for a number of months now, so she had come to know you well, but it still caught you off guard how thoughtful and caring she was. Other than Ingrid, you weren't sure you had ever come across someone outside of your family that treated you so... perfectly. So normally. It was second nature for the Spanish woman at this point, and that meant the world to you.

“Ale.” You breathed out quietly, shaking your head slightly. She frowned at your reaction, and you couldn't help the sleepy giggle that left your throat. “I would really, really love it if you stayed over. Only if you want to, though.”

Your hair was no doubt a mess from being asleep, you could feel how flushed your cheeks were, and the material of Alexia's t-shirt was probably imprinted on one side of your face. Despite this, Alexia still looked at you like you were the only person in the world.

“If you are happy with it, I would love to stay over. I couldn't think of anything better than waking up in the morning to you.” Her words had you blushing, as they often did, and in your shy embarrassment, you ducked your head down to hide the beaming smile on your face. You lifted it back up only a second or two later when you heard Alexia yawn above you, the pair of you bursting into loud, hearty laughter afterwards.

Together, even with your fingers intertwined for the very short journey, you headed to your bedroom. Alexia perched on the edge of the bed as you searched your wardrobe not only for yourself, but your girlfriend too. You turned around with a pair of shorts for you, more than happy to keep on the jumper of hers you wore, as well as a sweater and another pair of shorts for Alexia. However, she looked at you like there was something she was holding back when you went to hand over the clothes.

“I don’t… usually sleep with shorts or trousers on.” She admitted with an amusingly bright shade of pink to her cheeks. Even the tips of her ears had changed colours.

“That’s fine, Ale, you can sleep in whatever you want. Long as you’re comfy.” You told her, giggling at the small sigh of relief she let out as you put her shorts back into the drawers.

“I did not want to make you feel uncomfortable or anything. Thank you for this.” She smiled up at you before standing. 

There was a miniscule moment of awkwardness where the two of you felt like teenagers at a sleepover, worrying about changing in front of each other, until Alexia turned so that her back was to you and began to unbutton and unzip her jeans. You turned too, not without a coy grin on your face, and quickly got changed, as did Alexia.

“Can I turn now?”

“Are you finished?” 

You asked at the same time, laughing together once more whilst moving to face each other again. Alexia took in the sight of you in her jumper, the small detail making her heart skip with joy around her chest, and you shook your head at the fondness she admired you with as you tried not to look at the rather substantial amount of skin on show from the woman across from you. She looked adorable, in just her underwear and a sweater with slightly tousled hair. It was such a contrast to the person you saw on the pitch, and so what if you secretly, not-so-secretly loved the fact that you were the only one in the world that saw this dimension of her multifaceted persona?

“What side do you prefer?” You wondered, gesturing to the bed behind you.

“Which side?” Alexia scrunched her nose in confusion like she did back at the airport, and still you found it just as endearing. 

“Yeah, like do you prefer being closer to the door or to the window?” 

“Oh! I do not mind, cariño, you can pick.” You let out a dramatic breath at her decision, then immediately clambered under the covers, making Alexia smile. “So you like the window?”

“I do. I like being able to look out every morning, the sunrise wakes me up.” You answered her curiosity, and it was simply another fact which she stored away. She had a number of them memorised by now, but she hoped she could learn every single one. 

“Do you, um… like to cuddle? When you sleep?” The blonde murmured a little shyly, lay on her back with her head turned to you. You had a feeling, from the sheepishness in her tone, that there was a certain answer she was hoping for. When you answered, you couldn't help the small, excited smile on your face.

“I think I do.” 

At your response, she moved onto her side, her accent thick when she quietly demanded that you roll over away from her. Once you had, you hid your face in your pillow when she shuffled up close to you, her chest to your back. Were you sure you weren’t asleep? Because when her arm slipped around your waist and hugged you tight back against her, you were convinced you were dreaming.

But, of course, you always had something to say.

“Do you sleep with socks on?” You hummed curiously into the quiet room.

“Sí..? Why?”

“That’s so strange, Ale.” You commented, goosebumps rising on your skin with the huff she let out against your neck.

“Vete a dormir, idiota.” She grumbled, though you knew she was smiling, it came through so clearly in her voice.

You woke up first the next morning. You weren’t used to sharing a bed, so you didn’t sleep too great, but waking up to Alexia snuggled close to you with her head half on your pillow and an arm wrapped around your body to ensure you didn’t move from her hold, it was so worth it. Even if she called you a worm for the rest of the day, droning on and on about how wriggly you were overnight. This time, when she teased you, you could see the smile on her face as she did so, you didn’t have to assume she had a grin like the previous night. With how the first night went, you thought about your future with a smile on your face, now knowing that mornings were so much better than ever before when you woke up to Alexia’s grumpiness and her tendency to cling onto anytime you tried to leave the bed.

—

Just because you hated your own birthday, that didn’t mean you disliked other people’s birthdays. In fact, for the people closest to you, you relished the opportunity to meticulously plan for them and show them exactly how loved they were.

“Ale, I mean it. Don’t you dare show up early.” 

February 2nd was of course your girlfriend's birthday. It was a morning training session that day, which was honestly quite lucky, and after some celebrations there with the club, you two were going your separate ways. Alexia had plans with some of her close-knit circle of friends from her hometown, whilst you were finishing up organising everything for when she came over to your place afterwards.

You had your arms crossed and eyebrows raised as you looked at her in warning where you stood at the driver's side window of her car. She had a smug grin on her face, like she wasn't listening to a thing you were saying.

“What if I just want to see you, mi amor?” She argued cheekily, but you scoffed.

“Well, I'm right here, telling you to NOT show up early.” 

“But I'm early to everything! Early is on time, on time is-”

“On time is late, late is what the hell is the point of being alive, yes I know you, Alexia.” You jabbed a finger into her chest, smiling at the toothy grin she responded with. “But this is your birthday and I have everything planned down to a T, if you're early then I'm just going to kick you out and make you sit outside in the corridor until it's the right time.”

There was a tight schedule for the day, one you were not going to break. Alexia may try her damn hardest but her determination isn't going to win out this time, because yours is stronger. 

She was going to spend the afternoon with her closest friends, the people that she knew she wouldn't be where she was now without them, whilst you had an intense few hours of cooking. Yes, hours. Cooking historically wasn't your favourite thing in the world, you were a pair that did not get along, but with a few tips and lessons from Alexia's mother, you had nearly perfected one dish that you knew Alexia would die for. Hopefully she wouldn't have to resort to such extremities as long as you keep to your timetable and she doesn't ruin that.

“Oh my god!” You suddenly exclaimed as your phone vibrated in your pocket, your alarm telling you to get home ASAP going off at that particular moment. “I need to go! You’re going to make me late!” 

Before Alexia could even blink, you had kissed her cheek and turned to head back to your car. But she wasn’t allowing that.

“Oye! Ven aquí, engel.” She sounded serious and a little strict then, you had no choice but to turn around and walk back towards her skeptically. You stood about a foot away from her door, though she beckoned you over with a wave of her hand and raised an eyebrow when you only shuffled a tiny bit. “Ven aquí.”

You rolled your eyes at her and did as she said, though your attitude didn’t stay for long when she pinched your cheeks together with one hand and leaned up to leave a lingering, firm kiss to your pouted lips that momentarily turned your brain to mush. After she pulled back, she chuckled a little menacingly at the daze she left you in, until you blinked out of whatever not so PG thoughts you’d fallen into and back to the present. 

“Don’t distract me!” You groaned, pushing her face away gently with your palm. “Have fun with your friends, I’ll see you later. At the right time, Ale!”

Fortunately for you, she did show up on ti- well, two minutes early actually, but you were running ahead of schedule thanks to the gracious extra time you gave yourself in case anything did go wrong. Some things… did go wrong, but all were salvageable, and now you had the most beautiful aroma of slow-cooked, completely homemade (apart from the actual pasta) shredded beef ragu pasta circling throughout your apartment, and if you didn’t say so yourself, it could definitely pass as a Michelin star meal.

However, out of all the outcomes you had thought of for that night, there was one that you never could have prepared yourself for.

“You reek of wine.” Was the first thing you said when you opened the door to your pink-cheeked, suspiciously happy girlfriend. You scrunched your nose up at the distinct scent coming from her, or actually it was probably just your hypersensitivity to most smells, whilst Alexia beamed at you from her place rooted in the doorway.

“Hola, guapisima.” The blonde grinned, reaching her arms out and making toddler-esque grabby hands at you, otherwise known as asking for a hug in sober language. 

Your first thought, as you leaned in, was one of anxiety and stress, since you didn’t exactly plan to deal with a wine drunk Alexia for the first time especially with it being her birthday. But then, she hummed almost like a happy cat purring when you wrapped your arms around her, and she seemed relaxed and happy in a different way than you had seen so far. Thankfully she didn’t seem too drunk, maybe just a bit tipsy, and as you held her you giggled at the way she nuzzled her nose into the skin just below your jawline.

“You had fun then? With your friends?” You wondered as you ran a hand up and down her jumper clad back.

“Mhm.” She lifted her head up and smiled at you. You looked in her eyes, and found nothing but carefree and utter contentment swirling around there. It did something to your heart then, a feeling akin to relief and pride settling over you at how at peace she seemed to be in your company. Even if that was assisted by the alcohol in her system. “So happy to be with you now. I waited all day.” 

“Yeah, yeah. Softie.” You teased, giggling at how she tutted in disapproval at your comment and raised an eyebrow at you. “Feliz cumpleaños.”

“Tusen takk.” Alexia grinned in turn, her eyes creasing in the corners. “Ves? I am not early. I am at the right time and hungry, so let me in.”

“No.” You said just as she went to move past you. You tightened your arms around her waist so that she couldn't move, and she frowned grumpily as a result. “You're two minutes early, actually.”

“Vale.” She sighed, giving up the fight much easier than you expected, which only raised your suspicions further. “You cooked, sí? Mami said you were cooking a big meal?”

“I did, it's almo-” You were right to be wary of her behaviour, as her hands slipped down to the back of your thighs and she hoisted you up into her arms, catching you off guard. You pushed the door shut behind her before she walked away, only just managing to reach it over her shoulder as she started walking through your flat. “Ale! What are you doing?!”

Not that she made it too far before she almost sent the two of you flying down to the floor when she bumped into the set of drawers near the entryway.

“Be careful! How much did you drink?” You scolded lightly, grabbing onto the door frame that led into the kitchen to steady yourselves. 

“Hmm… does it matter?” She answered, curving the question with a smile on her face before the smell of food cooking caught her attention.

“No, you can’t be in here yet! Put me down, get out!” You panicked slightly at how the surprise would have been ruined as she went to head over to the stove, though it was instantly relieved when Alexia stopped in her tracks and lowered you back down to the floor with a grumble. “You can’t know yet, I need to serve it up. Go sit at the table and wait, please behave. No funny business.”

“I will stay here and behave and watch you.” The midfielder compromised, and with a defeated sigh, you nodded and got started with the final steps of the evening. 

“You're so weird.” You muttered, turning to glance back at her where she leaned back against the wall with her hands clasped behind her like a bored, young child when she clicked her tongue in disapproval.

“Not weird.” She grumbled, giving up on standing around and waiting, instead wandering over to stand beside you, drooling at the food you'd prepared until something caught her eye. “What is this?”

She picked up the piece of paper she saw and read through it – albeit with slightly blurred vision – and felt a wave of adoration wash over her.

“Oh, it's the… timetable I wrote for myself tonight. So I didn't forget anything.” You replied sheepishly, opting out of facing the blonde in case her and her unpredictable drunken antics decided to tease you for it.

You knew it might be a little weird to anyone else that you'd make such a detailed outline for the evening, but it was something you had always done and it hadn't failed you thus far. It was very meticulous, with timings for food and reminders of tiny things you didn't want to forget and when you could get ready for her arrival as the dinner cooked without it ruining the process. 

Though, Alexia didn't think it was weird or unusual. To her, it was just another glimpse into your mind and how it worked, and she treasured it anytime she got to see that. She was sure, when you weren't looking and didn't need it anymore, she'd slip it into her pocket and keep it as a memory. Sure it might just be a lined bit of paper ripped out of the nearest notebook with scribbled notes that only you could understand, but for Alexia it was a sentimental souvenir that represented so much more than just a nice evening together. Making sure everything went perfect and was well organised that night was one of your many ways of demonstrating your love for her and how deep it ran.

“I really appreciate you setting up this evening for us.” Alexia began quietly, resting her chin on your shoulder and wrapping an arm loosely around your waist as her hand found its place on your hip. “Mi novia bonita. You are the best.” 

“I'm sorry we aren't going out or doing anything fancy.” You mumbled insecurely, suddenly shrinking in on yourself and allowing the doubts to come in. 

Alexia might be here with a smile on her face, but would she have been happier elsewhere? An actual Michelin star restaurant with a girlfriend that could handle more than half an hour in such an environment? Dressed up to the nines and paying a bill of, at the very least, three digits rather than putting up with a haphazard home-cooked meal and a night in?

“Why you say that?” Alexia frowned, gently taking the dish you were holding as well as the ladle in your other hand and putting them both down for the time being. She put the lid back on the pot so that the food didn't cool too much, before urging you to face her with her hand moving to your shoulder. “Why, when I think this is the perfect way to spend my birthday?”

“Because other years you've had parties and nights out, you've told me all about them and the dinners you've had and stuff. This is just… nothing compared to all those. But it's all I can give you and it doesn't feel like enough. I just… I tried my best though.” 

The words come out thick and fast with little warning, revealing stresses that you'd carried on your shoulders for days since you came up with the idea for this night. You tried to disguise them, whenever Alexia asked previously you what was up you shrugged her off, but of course it was now of all moments that you spilt all you felt. 

“No. No, no, no.” Alexia said, her eyebrows pressed down into a scowl of determination, which you took as anger.

“I am sorry, Alexia, I did try my b-”

“And your best is so much more than I could wish for.” She cut you off in a firm voice, her hands on either side of your neck as her thumbs under her chin tilted your head up to face her. “It is more than enough. I see what you have done here for me and I see you. Not what you can't do. Those other things for my birthday, they were more for my family and my friends to enjoy. I liked them, but… there is a reason I didn't want to do all that this year and it's not because of you. It's because it's not what I want, but you know what I want, and I know that because you've planned this night and it is perfect for me.”

With her flushed cheeks and slightly tousled hair from… well, from what you weren't sure though it probably had the same reasonings as the red tinge to her cheeks, but it was her wide eyes that really tied off the slightly manic appearance of her. Like, if you didn't believe everything she said, she might go on a tipsy rampage against everyone that had done you so wrong it had led to your current doubtful mindset. 

Your hands were clasped in front of you, fidgeting as you processed her words which had been a little unexpected. Perhaps a drunk Alexia wasn't such a worrying thing like you thought it might be.

“A… are you sure? I mean, I d-” 

“Spending time with the woman I love? She cooks an amazing meal for me? And it is just us, nobody else?” She interrupted you again, a soft smile on her face as her thumbs carefully caressed the soft skin of your cheeks. “I love that, cariño, I really have been so excited all day. Please, never… belittle yourself over what you can't do, when everything that you are doing is more than good enough for everybody around you. Nobody loves like you do and I feel very lucky to be the one that gets all you have to give.”

Definitely not as bad as you feared.

“You…” Speechless, you trailed off and shook your head. So you leaned in and hugged her, because there was very little you could say to repay her for her thoughtfulness other than- “I love you.”

“I love you too, mi amor.” Alexia hummed into your ear, swaying you both on the spot before her temporarily depleted attention span averted back to the pasta that was calling her name. “I also love pasta so please let me eat now. Two minutes have passed, no?” 

There was a grin pressed against the skin of your neck as you lightly hit her back for her comment. That night with Alexia was just another example of how well she truly knew you, unlike anyone you'd ever met. And that pride from earlier? It returned as you say across from her at the dinner table, a rich amount of pasta dished up in front of you both, because she said you knew her too. You knew her too. 

As it turned out, your cooking skills far surpassed Alexia's expectations, nevermind your own. She may have been a tiny bit worried considering the few but memorable occasions of you trying to cook for her, so she'd have to thank her mother in a very generous way, because it might have been one of the best things she'd ever been served. When the midfielder slumped back in her chair, the button to her trousers undone after stuffing her face with a week’s worth of pasta, her eyes never steered away from you.

You weren't doing anything of note, you were simply loading the dishwasher up with the plates and cutlery and whatnot that you'd used that day. Yet, for your girlfriend, there was so much love blooming through her chest she had no idea what to do with it apart from gaze at you like you were the one who had invented football.

“Your presents are in my bedroom by the way. I, um… may have gone a bit overboard.” You admitted shyly as you went to go back to your chair, though you were stopped in your tracks when an arm curved around your waist and pulled you down to sit on Alexia’s lap.

“Your bedroom?” She said lowly, a glint in her eyes that were solely focused on your lips. You blushed, knowing exactly what was on her mind, having come to recognise the pattern in her behaviour when she wanted… something in particular. You dragged the whole thing out, knowing it only ended in one way, but where’s the fun in that?

“Mhm.” You nodded, your heart rate speeding up a tad at how she smirked afterwards.

“Vaya, qué conveniente, no?” Alexia murmured, leaning in so that your noses brushed together and your lips were millimetres apart. At her teasing, you tried to resist the bashful smile but Alexia saw it for a split second before you could repress it. “Bueno. Vamos.”

In an instant, she was up from her seat with you in her arms, one strict destination in her mind with one very likeable goal. 

“Ale, I just had a giant bowl of pasta!” 

“No me importa, mi amor.” She sang, before kicking the bedroom door shut behind you both.

—

From an outsider’s perspective, your relationship seemed just as perfect as it was in your point of view. Didn’t take a genius to recognise that; five minutes with you and Alexia, anyone could see how much you valued each other.

“-and then my mother rang Mapi, like actually called her, just to see if I was lying. They teamed up on me, snuppa, my mother and my girlfriend. Over soup.” 

“That is… you got yourself into that mess, Ingrid. I can’t comment. Can’t take sides.”

Just like it had been ten years ago, back home in Norway in a tiny hotel in Oslo, you and Ingrid were sharing a room for an away game. There had been training, dinner, and now it was downtime where everybody could choose what they wanted to do. With Alexia at the press conference and Mapi… doing whatever Mapi did, you and Ingrid settled for a relaxed night in, though the movie you’d landed on was long forgotten in the background.

“You just took a side. Unbelievable.” The dark-haired woman sighed, shaking her head in disappointment. You grinned, lay on your side on your bed as Ingrid painted her nails across from you on hers.

It was peaceful and just what you wanted it to be, some time alone with your second favourite person in your life where you could just exist in each other’s company. Unfortunately, though to nobody’s surprise, it didn’t last long.

“Buenas noches.” Alexia smiled as she walked in, somehow having acquired a keycard to your room.

“What are you doing here?” You asked in confusion, not expecting to see her for the rest of the evening since you weren’t sharing a room.

“Oh, what a lovely greeting.” She scoffed jokingly, disregarding the fact you were midway through a conversation and flopping down onto the space next to you. The blonde lay on her stomach, face turned into your back as an arm flung around your waist. And she just stayed there.

With a glance at Ingrid, who shrugged her shoulders, you rolled your eyes at your girlfriend’s antics before the pair of you slipped back into conversation like nothing had happened. Alexia piped up every now and then, but for the most part, she remained quiet and just relished in your company. 

Ingrid hadn’t seen these sides to either of you, ever.

It was something small, you and Alexia didn't even exchange a word, but there was a smile on your face as you chatted with Ingrid that the defender didn't see much until Alexia came into your life. Still, it was big enough for her to come to a realisation. Two, actually.

First, that you were happy with Alexia, which made her beam with joy for you and feel extra grateful for Alexia. The second, though, was something she had hoped would happen the minute she caught wind of the transfer rumours. You were completely, genuinely, whole-heartedly happy with your life at Barcelona. And in Barcelona too of course, but you weren't currently in the city at that moment, you were halfway across the country, so. But her point still stood.

However, no matter how much she valued your happiness, she could get to that another time. For now, she wanted-

“I want to go to sleep now.” She decided, zipping up the bag in which she kept all her nail stuff for when she travelled, looking at the two of you on the bed and noting the puzzled expression on your face.

“Then go to sleep, Ingrid, nobody is stopping you.” Alexia chuckled behind you at that, quickly leaving a kiss on the back of your neck before sitting up. 

“No, she is trying to tell me to get out.” She yawned, sharing a smile with Ingrid at your misunderstanding.

“Oh. Well, get out then. You’re not even supposed to be here.” Ingrid grinned at your reply that had Alexia frowning, not expecting you to go against her.

“You’re supposed to be on my side, cari.” She argued, nudging your knee.

“Ask Ingrid. I don’t take sides. The only side I’m on is the right side of justice.” Ingrid bursted out laughing at that and you had to stifle your own, though you did smile at the unimpressed but amused look on Alexia’s face. “Take it up with the club, those are the rules. You’re the captain. I’m sure they will be so glad to hear you can’t stay away from your girlfriend for a few hours overnight.”

The captain shook her head and stood, tugging you off the bed and wrapping you up in a hug that had a better purpose than simply saying goodnight. She slipped her own keycard into your pocket and whispered something unintelligible for Ingrid’s ears to you. Then, she left with a grin, and Ingrid scoffed as you turned back to her shyly, cheeks bright red.

“You know what, I don’t even want to know.” Ingrid said, gathering her things to take into the bathroom to start her night routine.

“It was nothing like that!” You claimed abruptly, realising where her mind had gone. You hesitated for a moment, before remembering who it was in front of you. “She was just being sweet. Saying she would miss me for the night.”

All Ingrid could do was shake her head at the pair of you and how utterly loved up you were, because with every glimpse she caught of the true nature of your connection with each other, it exceeded her hopes and expectations every single time. So, with her hands on her hips as she took the sight of you smiling with a soft shyness to your face and how you fidgeted with the keycard in your pocket, she had no qualms expressing her feelings.

“Do you know how much it means to me? To see you this happy with someone?” Was what she said, which you weren’t expecting at all. You were expecting more teasing, or for her to just tell you to be quiet so she could get ready for bed. Certainly not that.

“What do you mean?” You wondered quietly. She came to stand in front of you and put her hands on your shoulders, meeting your curious stare with a proud look in her eye.

“It just makes me happy to see that you have found someone that treats you exactly as you deserve to be treated. Who isn't afraid to ask questions, who goes above and beyond for you, who sees you for who you are. I had no idea Alexia would be that person for you but I am so glad she is. I am just… relieved and proud that this is how things have worked out for you with moving to this club. I was worried you wouldn't like it but you have really made a place for yourself. And you even got yourself a girlfriend, like, look at you go!” Ingrid beamed, shaking you a little from excitement as she spoke. 

You giggled at her because this moment was so Ingrid, but at the same time, it tugged on your heart strings. Her words put things into perspective for you about everything that had happened since you left Germany, and though there had been lows, there were so many more highs than you realised. Even still, the best was yet to come.

There wasn’t a single part of you that would ever get tired of hearing how proud and happy Ingrid was for you. You’d looked up to her since the moment you met her, she was an example to you, like a big sister. No way would you be the person you were without her. She’s one of those people you hold onto for life, and you would spend the rest of yours trying to repay her for everything she’d done for you.

The next morning, when Ingrid woke up alone in your shared hotel room, she wasn’t even surprised, nor was she the slightest bit concerned for your whereabouts. There was only one place you would be, and though you cruelly abandoned her some point during the night, the sight of you walking in with Alexia, wearing her training jersey with 11 printed on it, her arm around your shoulders as you giggled at something she said to you, was very much welcome.

—

When something wasn’t quite right with Alexia, your entire world felt off-kilt, until you got to the bottom of what was up with her. Sometimes she’d willingly come to you for some support and comfort, other times she was reluctant, and very much stuck in her own head.

Like, for example, just before the season started ramping up, she got a minor muscle injury that’d keep her out for a couple weeks. Everyone knew how it’d make her feel, but it was up to you to be there and reassure her that no, the world wasn’t ending, and yes, she could be the little spoon for that evening. 

Alexia was a bit of a doom-thinker, which not many people knew about, but it was the truth. The moment she was told some bad news, there was a frown paired with a scowl which both were so deeply imprinted on her face, if there was a gust of strong wind, she might actually, genuinely, get stuck like that. Her mind worked on overdrive, thinking and thinking and thinking until she could land on the fastest solution to whatever was wrong. When there wasn’t an immediate solution, well… you wouldn’t be surprised if her head exploded.

So, after having gone home before Alexia was done with her physio assessment, you raced back as soon as you could the second one of the Barca staff told you she was still there, on her own, watching the B-team’s training session. You had tried ringing her, though you knew her phone was most likely sitting in her bag in the locker room as she attempted to gain some peace of mind. The captain had apparently been there for quite some time, however, and you felt she’d had enough time on her own to process it before she needed the care of someone she loved.

She sat on the second-to-top row of the bleachers, hood up and cap on with her hands in her pockets, slumped back against her chair as her eyes tracked every movement of the young players in front of her. You approached her quietly and cautiously, as if trying not to spook away some sort of wild, erratic, unpredictable animal. But no, it was just your emotionally inept girlfriend- inept only when it came to football and injuries.

Even though she could definitely hear you, she gave nothing away.

“Ale? Can I sit with you, or would you like some more time on your own?” You asked gently, the blonde staying silent. “I can leave if you’d like. Just thought I’d come check on you.”

After a second or two, she shook her head and waved you over. She didn’t really know what to say, her mind was split in half and each side was fighting it out between being angry and being logical. She knew she’d be back in no time, but there were still games missed. Missed games, missed opportunities.

You took the seat beside her and tried to get a read on her face, which was entirely emotionless apart from the way she pursed her lips and the slight scowl she had that couldn’t be blamed on the sun, thanks to her hat. Without really knowing how she felt, you didn’t know what to do. Alexia had never lashed out at you to ever give you the wrong idea, but you really didn’t want to say the wrong thing and make her feel worse, or angry.

That was until, about a minute after you sat down, she shuffled a little closer in her seat to where you sat, her shoulder just slightly brushing against yours. You knew that was her silently reaching out, so you complied easily, and rested a hand on her thigh, which she immediately grasped onto with her own. 

“It is so annoying.” You heard her say some time later, her voice just a whisper which had the tiniest crack of emotion in it. “And I am annoyed that I feel annoyed.”

Her eyes were still unmoving from the pitch, but as you looked at her, you smiled sadly, and slipped your hand out of hers to wrap an arm around her shoulders. You coaxed her closer to you, glad when she leaned your head against yours. You would never wish for her to be in this position or a situation similar, but right now you knew she was okay and safe, so you relished in the fact she sought you out, like you did when the roles were reversed. It was the wrong moment to think such a thing, but you were almost relieved that she also needed you when she was going through a difficult time, like you needed her. 

“I know. Nobody expects you to just sit back, take this news, and not be angry that an injury has come when you’re so in form. And when the team needs everybody because it’s going to get hectic soon. Let yourself feel frustrated, you’re allowed to and expected to. But when we wake up tomorrow, you’re gonna come here, and you’re gonna get on with rehab because that is your mindset. You know, when you get up in the morning, these resentful feelings will have gone. You just have to feel them.” You settled on reminding her that she knows she will get past it, because it was the truth, and trying to sugarcoat anything or pretending like all was okay would have been the wrong way to go about this situation. 

Alexia was ineffably grateful. For you coming to be beside her, for your words, and just for you overall. She always found these first moments after bad news difficult, but the road ahead of her seemed so much clearer with every bit of reassurance you gave.

“And you will be with me, huh?” She turned to you with a slight smirk, an act you knew was a classic performance of fake it ‘til you make it. If she acted confident, maybe she would start to feel somewhat sure of herself again.

“And I will be with you for every second of it. Every second.” You told her with a bright smile, and the combination of that and your dedication to her also brought a smile of her own to her face. “You are the most determined person I have ever met. But it is human to have blips. It’s why I’m here; to try to make you feel better because you don’t have to go through blips alone.”

Somehow, you were saying all the right things, even if you thought you were just muddling through an internal checkbook of ‘things people say to each other during hard times.’ Seeing Alexia with a smile on her face compared to the stormy expression she wore when you arrived was a huge boost in confidence. Even more so when she turned her body towards you and ducked her head down so that she could rest her chin on your shoulder as she brought you in for a hug that comforted you just as much as it did her.

“Thank you for coming here.” She mumbled into your jacket, and you kissed her cheek afterwards. 

“Always. It is my duty to the team, no?” You couldn’t help but grin in triumph when she laughed, slightly muffled by your clothes, but she laughed nevertheless. “And as your girlfriend, I suppose.”

“You suppose.”

“Fine. It is my duty, a duty I take very seriously. A duty I’m very good at, considering I’ve got you here in my arms, laughing like you didn’t look like you wanted to watch the world burn when I arrived.”

“You are… annoying. Cocky, smug, and annoying. Stop it.”

—

You were serious when you said you’d be there every second along her rehab. As you had told her, it was a duty you took very seriously. But how serious, Alexia didn’t know in that instance at the training ground. 

One of your favourite love languages for others was gift giving, you were sort of known as the best present-buyer with everyone you know, because that was also another thing you did not joke about. Though, it was your spontaneity with such a habit that you knew people appreciated most. And who else would be at the top of that long list of people, other than your girlfriend. 

Even if you did accidentally almost send her to hospital as you walked into her apartment out of the blue as she sat at her dining table with her headphones on. 

Since she was out of playing action and feeling a little useless with what she could give to the team, she basically took it upon herself to take notes of the matches and training sessions that she’d missed whilst she was gone so that she could send them to the team and hope they got good use out of it. That meant her attention was entirely on her laptop and notepad when you walked in, a small gift bag in your hand and a nervous look on your face, which she missed of course.

It wasn’t until you were stood beside her and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder that she jumped out of her skin and slammed her headphones down on the table so hard out of fear, you worried she’d broken them. Then, she exhaled deeply, hand on her heart as she worked to slow it down once she noticed it was you. Unfortunately for her, you had no control over the laughter that bubbled out of you at her dramatic reaction, to which she groaned and pulled you closer with an arm around your waist, hiding her face in your stomach out of embarrassment. 

At that point, you noticed something very convenient for the gift you had bought her. Her hair was tied up into a messy bun, making your life so much easier.

“Close your eyes, Ale. I have something for you, you’re not allowed to see it.” 

“Why get me something if I cannot see what it is?” She argued, putting on that frustratingly endearing faux innocent expression she often put on when trying to fight her case over something small and light-hearted like this.

“Just be quiet and do what I say.” You told her, attempting to be stern but it was entirely futile when she gazed up at you like that, and before you’d even finished your sentence, there was a smile on your face. 

Despite how she rolled her eyes teasingly, she closed her eyes and sat still, waiting for whatever you had in store for her. As she sat there, she could hear you reaching into the bag she spotted and taking something out of it, but other than that, she was none the wiser to what her surprise was. Her eyebrows shot up when she felt you lay something delicate around her neck.

“Engel, what have you done?” She enquired, her eyes still shut as she fought the urge to open them prematurely.

You stayed silent, making sure the present was secure, before tapping her shoulder to indicate you were done and stepping back shyly. The second she opened her eyes, she fixed you with a knowing, accusatory glare, before standing and heading over to the mirror, where her face lit up at what she saw.

A dainty gold chain sat perfectly across her neckline, a simple piece of jewellery that immediately jumped up to the top of her favourites. There wasn’t anything outrightly extravagant about it, it was discreet and meant to be worn with daily casual clothes, but Alexia wondered how she’d gone without it for so long, because it was truly perfect. She couldn’t find a better word to describe it. Maybe priceless, because the sentiment behind it was even more beautiful to her than the appearance of it. 

You had gone out with some friends having woken up without Alexia beside you that morning with no plans to see each other that day. Yet, there you were, showing up out of the blue with a surprise that she treasured after having it in her possession for no more than a minute. It was supposed to be an entirely inconspicuous day for the pair of you, but that flew out the window when you decided to get her a gift that could probably never be topped.

Alexia never really found herself as someone that people randomly bought gifts for. Sure, her mother and her sister might spot something and get it for her, but other than that, everyone assumed she had everything she could ever need, what with her wages and her sponsors and bonuses for all the thirty titles she’d won. She never would have known that a necklace could evoke such a whirlwind of emotion throughout her. It stuck in her mind, on repeat, over and over; you went out shopping with friends, without Alexia even jokingly asking for a present, and had seen something which made you think of her. And you even went so far as to buy it for her, and then surprise her at her own apartment with no warning. 

“It’s just something small, I know it’s not all that special, but I saw it and thought of you and deci-” 

The blonde had a habit of cutting you off when you rambled insecurely, though it wasn’t something you had a particular distaste for. Every time she did so, she stopped you in your tracks and did something that pulled each anxiety from your mind until you forgot what you were even worrying about. Whether that be by talking, or drawing you in for a hug, or offering a distraction, or in this case, indulging in the overwhelming amount of love she felt by kissing the life out of you.

Though, for her, that still wasn’t enough of an expression of her feelings, so just as you caught up with her she pulled away. Her arms were around your waist in an instant, and she lifted you up off the ground and spun you both around, like movie stars in the rain. However, thankfully you were both warm and majoritively dry in the comfort of Alexia’s apartment- majoritively dry, because there were… tears on your neck?

“Are you crying?” You asked in disbelief, surprised that she’d have such a reaction to just a necklace.

“Yes. Yes I am.” Alexia answered with a laugh, using one of her hands to hastily brush away the endless tears that fell. “I am crying because you bought me a necklace. For no reason, you bought me a necklace, and I really l-love that. It means a lot to m-me, amor.” 

Her reaction almost had you crying too; she was adorable, and you hugged her tighter because it felt like that was all you could do. Every day with her, she showed a new side to who she was away from Alexia Putellas, the merciless footballer that was no match for anyone. This version, this emotional, choked up version of her was so heart-warming, part of you wished the world could see it, whilst the rest of you relished in the fact you were the only person to see it. Only you could make her cry over a necklace, and as weird as that was, it was your badge of honour you’d wear with pride. 

Perhaps your bank account wouldn’t agree, but you’d buy her a dainty gold chain everyday of the year if it meant she felt at least half as loved as she made you feel.

—

Somewhere along the way since you first fell in love with Alexia, Barcelona officially became… home. 

Germany was never home, you always knew you’d move away at some point. You liked the city you were in, you thought you loved it at the time, but… Barcelona introduced to you what love actually was, and it was Alexia. 

You didn’t know what life had waiting for you years down the line, and if you thought about that and its unknowns for too long, you would send yourself into an anxious tizzy that was entirely unnecessary. For now, you were the happiest you’d ever been, and it just so happened that you were in Barcelona when that happened. The city was dreamy, though so was the woman you were in love with. So were your friends. Everything about your life was the best it’d ever been.

That, unsurprisingly to you, opened up a world of daydreams and scenarios to think about. The first on your agenda, which was a terrifying one if it didn’t go your way: would Alexia ever want to live with you?

“Ale? Can we talk about something?” You said out of the blue as the pair of you walked along a beach in Madeira, hand in hand as the waves lapped calmly over your feet and the sun and the sky flaunted its beauty with shades of purples, pinks, and oranges, painting the perfect, serene background to a conversation sure to bring some anxiety. 

“Of course. Anything. Do you want to sit down and talk?” Alexia suggested, taking you both a little higher up the sand after you nodded. She took a seat first, before looking up at you with a welcoming smile as you paused for a moment, then sat down.

It was probably ridiculous and childish that you thought so, but you hated how the dynamic of any kind of relationship could change with one conversation. With what you were about to say, you felt sick at the possible outcomes. You knew what you were about to say, whilst Alexia was blissfully unaware of the storm you were about to kick up. The words were on the tip of your tongue as you looked at her, and your mouth opened and closed for a few moments as you built up the courage to speak them. Eventually, you did, and Alexia waited patiently throughout your internal warfare.

“Would you… ever want to, maybe, live together? One day?”

For a few brief moments (the worst of your life), Alexia didn’t respond. In that short time, your anxiety reached whole new heights, convincing you that the next words out of Alexia’s mouth would be her breaking up with you. They weren’t, of course they weren’t.

“I would love to. I really would.” She admitted coyly, smiling and shaking her head at the utter look of shock on your face. “I have been thinking about this for some time, I just didn’t know how to bring it up. So, please, tell me what you think.”

“What I think?” Alexia nodded, a comforting hand landing on your knee. “Well… I don’t know how we would do it.”

“What do you mean? We just decide whose apartment to move to and do that, no?” 

It wasn’t that simple, unfortunately. This was something you did indeed have a lot of thoughts on, and maybe it’d be those that would finally scare her off. 

Alexia was amazing at understanding, but she wasn’t perfect. Nobody could blame her for not being clued in on something like this, especially since it was the first time you were talking about it together.

“I… that wouldn’t work. Not for me anyway.” You started, a little disheartened by the frown that formed on her face. Still, you explained yourself. “If I moved into your apartment, it wouldn’t feel like my home. I love your apartment, I do, but it’s your apartment and always has been. If you moved into my apartment, that would mean that… it’s not my space anymore. Which makes no sense at all because it obviously would be, but… I don’t know how to explain it best. It’s…”

You trailed off, frustrated at how you couldn’t properly articulate yourself in such a delicate situation. But, now that she was clued in, Alexia understood exactly what you meant. 

Your apartment was your dedicated space; having someone move in, no matter who it was, would feel like having an intruder there at all times. Everything would be different in your mind, even if the only physical difference was Alexia, your girlfriend. It’d take you months, or probably even years, to get used to it. And you know you couldn’t live like that, even if you so desperately wanted to. 

Living with Alexia in her apartment would be even worse. You know her apartment as a visitor, but not as a resident. If you lived there, it would constantly feel like you were in someone else’s home and not your own. These two things, though they may be the easiest options theoretically, would cause all kinds of hell for you and probably reverse all the progress you’d made since moving to Spain. It would put strain on everything, from your relationships, to the football you played, to your mental health, everything. It just wasn’t a feasible or healthy option.

“I understand that, mi amor. I understand all that you said.” Alexia tried to reassure you, but you could see the sadness in her eyes that she tried to disguise. She was upset by this new revelation, and that wrecked you. “Please don’t feel guilty about it though. I am not mad or anything.”

You nodded and avoided her eyes, focussing your attention on the ocean in front of you and crossing your arms, like you were protecting yourself. You pulled away from your girlfriend to get away from the inevitable pain of her pulling away instead. Alexia realised that and had to suppress a sigh, not one of annoyance or along those lines, but out of concern, because she could see that turmoil this conversation had caused you. 

She decided to give you a couple minutes to think on your own, wondering if that’s what you’d need to process all that had just occurred. She was right to do that, because you did something rare. Rather than dwelling on the negative outcomes of what just happened, you tried your best to make something good out of it.

Because, in the end, relationships were all about compromise.

“Maybe, next year or next season or whatever, we…” You paused to take a breath, then addressed Alexia directly. She met you with a curious and open gaze, wordlessly encouraging you to get whatever it was off your chest. “We revisit this conversation, and… look at houses together?”

A new, shared space would work. A blank canvas for you both to work together on, to figure out together, to make a house into a home, together.

Alexia’s wide, bright smile was worth more than anything else in the world. One second, she was sat beside you, and the next, she had lunged forward to tackle you to the soft gold ground beneath you, putting her weight on you as she leaned down to shower you with the surge of adoration she felt. She peppered kisses all over your face and down to your neck, eliciting a surprised giggle out of you that was priceless to her. 

Your future, your shared future with the woman that lay on top of you, was in sight and near enough solidified. In a few years, you might not be a Barcelona player, football might take you down a completely different road, but the one you were on now, where you had plans to buy a house with Alexia, was enough for now, enough to settle the anxiety you always got when you thought about the future, because things were pretty good at that moment.

And to tie off an all-round very successful conversation, Alexia said something that summarised your whole relationship in only a single sentence. 

“Whatever you want to do, we will do, because seeing you happy makes me happy also.” 

—

depending on the reaction to this, i have no idea when or if there will be another story after this one. very anxious to post for reverie after all that happened because people have not so fun opinions about this overall topic that can and will wreck me which is pretty scary so :)

[amarmoria]

Nepenthe

꩜.ᐟ Qimir x Padawan! Reader

Why would your master want a padawan like you when he has his acolyte?

Notes: I've seen fics abt padawan reader and none can quench my thirst eugh😫pls note i have nooo idea what goes on in the star wars universe please don't come for me😣

"Hand me that one, fast" He gestured to the purple fruit just beside you, not daring to glance at you. "Yes, sir"

You curiously peeked over your master as you handed the fruit, what was so important it had him rushing like this?

"It's for Mae," he says, the squelching fruit making you frown, you forget he reads minds as easily as breathing. Your frown deepens as you remember. Mae. His acolyte, he took you in a few months before Mae came, that first few months felt like heaven, it was just you and him, in this unknown planet, training, practicing.

Yet, after Mae came, it almost felt like you were some kind of servant for the both of them, he trained with her day and night, leaving you to fend for yourself, he told you it's because you've already been trained by him, that you don't need to anymore, you didn't mind, you got along with Mae... on your perspective that is.

Mae was a fast learner, you were proud of her, now you have someone to share your training with, converse like a normal person, but later you realized that him and her were two sides of the same coin, quiet, mute, they don't like conversations, although you made an effort to be friends with Mae, than you ever did with your master since she was the lesser evil, you're quite proud of yourself when your conversations with her turned from smalls nods and no's to simple phrases.

You didn't care that your master had two Padawans under his belt, that is until he taught her some things he never even told you about, every now and then he would drop hints about what he would teach you next, to prepare you, but this one was unknown to you, you thought, maybe, maybe he forgot to tell you since he was so engrossed in trying to make Mae catch up to you, but Mae didn't just catch up to you, she had already passed way above you, while your stuck on the pedestal she was weeks ago.

"Something on your mind, little bee?" That nickname, he never once gave an explanation on why he calls you that. "No, uh, nothing.. master"

You focus on his muscles grinding the stone bowl.

"I don't think that's nothing"

"I'm fine, really." You bite the inside of your cheeks. "Hm"

You blink, fiddling with the hem of your robes, you let a few seconds pass before speaking up.

"Why.. why does Mae need it?" He halted his movements, and right then and there you almost regretted asking, almost. "She's having nightmares"

He resumed his cooking, although his brief answer didn't provide you with anything, so what? You were having nightmares once too, and he told you to suck it up.

And as if he read your mind, which he did. "I don't want it to hinder her performance, we don't want any distractions during this time of her training."

What about my training? You wanted to yell at him, what about me? Why can't you make me one of your anti-nightmare potions too?

You could only clench your fists, making sure he doesn't hear some of your thoughts, which is hard considering he didn't teach you to, only Mae, along with healing your body by using the force, all her, and your left in the dust.

Your master said using negative emotions is the best fuel for people like them. Them. He told you, him and Mae obvi, you're nowhere near the equation, like an addition symbol in a multiplication question, makes no sense right? Because you make no sense being there when he clearly prioritizes Mae.

"—are you still listening?"

"I, huh," your eyes flutter up to him, frowning when he says nothing but look at you. A few seconds pass with only the both of you staring each other down, I mean, him staring you down with his creepy mask, he suddenly lets go of the pestle, the tool colliding with the mortar loudly.

He was now towering over you, and you realize then how big he was compared to you, it's like a dwarf next to a willow tree. (Guys no matter how big you think you are, Qimir is always bigger✋)

"I can't hear you, but I feel you" oh fuck, you forgot about that. "What is this plaguing your mind?"

Before you could answer, Mae comes running.

"You're back" He focuses on her, you let out a deep breath, for once your relieved Mae came in just a nick of time. "The ship's ready, master"

"Good, let's go" he grabs his robe from behind you. "Finish the potion before we come back"

"Whe, where are you guys going?"

"Nothing of importance, now go." He gestures to the stone bowl, his menacing helmet buzzing in your ears. "Yes, master.."

"Good girl." you couldn't hear his last few mumbles, only registering everything when they left the cave, leaving you alone.

-

You decided that you're gonna make an anti-nightmare potion for yourself too, because why does only Mae get it when you can make one in case you get nightmares?

And the best place to buy ingredients was with the best apothecary in town.

"Qimir?" You knock on the door. "I need to buy things for him, are you there?"

No answer.

"Hellooo?"

You pouted and turned around, now everyone's busy when you're not, you wanted to wait for a few more seconds but people might think you're crazy for trying to buy from an abandoned pharmacy, your master told you Qimir was there anytime you needed something to use for missions, but now that you don't go to missions, you love to annoy the clumsy pharmacy owner.

"Hey, wait!"

You tried to stop the smile creeping to your face when you hear the door bust open.

"I'm here!" He yelled, you turned around and waved, a big smile covering your face. "What took you so long?"

"What do you mean?" He playfully shrugged. "Been here since forever"

You felt more comfortable with him, you don't have to have to tiptoe around him unlike with the other, you liked to tease him about not taking a bath and for looking like a ragged hobo.

"What are you doing here though?" His eyebrows furrowed as you skip to him, you gave him a warm smile once again before making your way inside. "I need some things for him."

He frowned.

"Things? He didn't tell me he needed anything when they passed here."

"Well he told me, so go fetch it for me, servant" you chuckle and hit him on the bicep, he fakes a cry before hesitating to open the shelves.

"Here's the list of his majesty needs"

"His majesty?" He laughs, you just love making him laugh, maybe it's just you, or maybe you're just alone, but if there's anyone in the world you're going to survive an apocalypse with, it's Qimir.

"Uh huh, he keeps barking orders, finish this, finish that before we get home nyeh nyeh nyeh"

He chuckles once again. "Are you sure about telling me that? I might just snitch and get a promotion."

You feign an insulted look. "You don't dare"

"Oh but I do"

You both sat there laughing, forgetting about what you were here for. You clutch your tummy and struggle to inhale air.

"I can't— stop—" you burst out laughing once again, your face heating up, the tears in your eyes now brimming full.

"No no don't die on me" He jokes, you can see him staring, you wanted to look at him like that, shameless, but you can't stand looking at him for more than 3 seconds without blushing.

"Really?" He mumbles, but you heard him, clear as day. "What?"

"I, I mean, really h-huh? You can't stop laughing?" He waved both his hands in the air.

"You weirdo"

"Oh so now I'm the weirdo?"

"Uh huh"

"Since when?!"

"Since we met"

"Says the person who keeps barging in my shop"

"You like it though right?" You look up at him expectantly. "Like w-what?"

You gesture with your hands. "This?"

"This what?"

"You're always alone here, you must be grateful that I always visit."

"Yeah, always"

"What does that mean!" You put your hands on your waist. "It means you're always here, so you're like an everyday occurance by now"

You roll your eyes as he finishes up the list.

"Here's the last one—" you frown as he pauses. "What?"

"Isn't this," he picks up the list again. "It's for.."

You gulp, your fingers fumble with the wooden seat.

"N-no, no, it's not" you avert your eyes from him, the floor looking a little more interesting today.

"It's for nightmares isn't it?"

"I don't know, he only gave the list, nothing else."

"It is for nightmares, why do you need these?"

"I don't know, it's not for me." You clench your fists. "If it was for him he'd tell me himself"

Your eyes try to find something, anything, to tell him.

"I think it's for Mae okay? Maybe, maybe she's having nightmares and, and maybe he doesn't want it to distract her.."

"But I al—" he pauses, his jaw flexing. "I already gave him these."

His eyes narrow on you, like a deer in the headlights you could only look away.

"Tell me?" His soft voice lures you to him. "Are you having them?"

"No.." you sigh, do you tell him you're making the potion out of spite for your master? For making one for Mae and not for you, ugh it all sounds childish now, before you left you had a plan, and now you look like a child caught.

"Just—" you let out a deep breath. "Give it, and I'll be on my way"

He stares at you for a moment, before placing everything in a small pouch. You thanked him and left the credits on the table before hurriedly leaving, you could still feel his stare at the back of your head.

[inky-duchess]

Fantasy Guide to Creating Your Own Language

When writer's set out to world-build, language has a huge role in creating new cultures and lending a sense of realism to your efforts. A world and people just feel more real when language is involved. As the old Irish proverb says "tír gan teanga, tír gan anam”. A country without a language, is a country without a soul. So how can we create one?

Do Your Homework

First things off, you should start by studying languages. Nobody is asking you to get fluent but it's important to understand the basic mechanics of language. You will start to see certain tricks to language, how verbs are conjugated and how gender effects certain words. It will be easier to make up your own when you know these tricks. For example, in Irish one doesn't scold but "gives out to" - "a thabhairt amach". In German, numbers are arranged differently to the English with the smallest digit arranged before the tens for example 21 - Einsundzwanzig. By immersing yourself in an array of different languages (I recommend finding ones close to how you want your language to sound), you can gain the tools necessary for creating a believable language.

Keep it Simple

Nobody expects you to pull a Tolkien or channel the powers of David J. Peterson (hail bisa vala). You're not writing a dictionary of your con-lang. You will probably use only a handful of words in your story. Don't over complicate things. A reader will not be fluent in your con-lang and if they have to continually search for the meaning of words they will likely loose patience.

Start Small

When you're learning a language, you always start with the basics. You do the exact same when writing one. Start with introductions, the names of simple objects, simple verbs (to be, to do, to have for example) and most importantly your pronouns (you will use these more than any other word, which is why I always start with them). Simple everyday phrases should always be taken care of first. Build your foundation and work your way up, this is a marathon not a race.

Music to the Ears

If your creating a new language, you're more than likely doing it phonetically. Sound is important to language and especially a con-lang because you want to trick your reader into thinking of a real language when reading the words on the page. I suggest sitting down and actually speak your words aloud, get the feel of them on the tongue to work out the spelling. Spellings shouldn't be too complicated, as I said before the readers aren't fluent and you want to make it easier for them to try it out themselves.

Also when you're creating the con-lang, it's important to figure out how it sounds to an unsuspecting ear. If a character is walking down a street and hears a conversation in a strange language, they will likely describe to the reader what it sounds like. It might be guttural or soft, it might be bursque or flowery. It's always interesting to compare how different languages flow in the ear.

Writing in Your Language

Now that you've written your language and created some words, you will want to incoperate them into your story. The way most writers do this is by italicising them. As a reader, I generally prefer authors not to go too overboard with their con-lang. Swathes of con-lang words might intrigue a reader but it can leave them confused as well. It is better to feed con-lang to your readers bit by bit. In most published works writer's tend to use words here and there but there are few whole sentences. For example in A Game Of Thrones by George RR Martin, has actually only a handful of short sentences in Dothraki despite the language being prevalent throughout the book. Daenerys Targaryen pronounces that "Khalakka dothrae mr’anha!"/"A prince rides inside me!" and it's one of the only sentence we actually see in actual Dothraki.

There's also nothing stopping you from just saying a language has been spoken. If you're not comfortable writing out the words, then don't make yourself. A simple dialogue tag can do the trick just fine.

Know your Words

I do recommend keeping an actual record of your words. Make a dictionary if you want or a simple list of words you need. This is one of the most entertaining aspects of world building, have fun with it, go mad if you like. Also here's a short list of questions you can ask yourself about language in general which might help your juices flow.

[jelloapocalypse]

Hi! I guess it’s ask time? Just wanted to say I think you’re one of the funniest people on YouTube; I have a playlist called ‘Emergency Funny’ and like half of it is just your videos.

I’m wondering, when you’re cold-reading a line, like in those streams of voice acting a video game while playing it, what are the small details, if any, that you look to to figure out how to read the line? I’m continually amazed how you manage to have near perfect delivery while never having read the line before. Sorry if this is worded confusingly I legit don’t know how to phrase it

This was sent months ago, but it's actually a very good question and talking about this might help people who like to voice games on stream get better at doing that.

For context, this is about our "fully-voiced" game playthroughs where we cold read an entire video game out loud.

One small thing I try to do that helps is pressing the "advance dialogue button" when the person speaking is about 65-70% of the way through their line. That way, if the next line is from the same character the actor has a chance to read it smoothly as though the lines were not separated at all.

If it turns out to be a different actor's line, this gives the new actor more time to skim the words as well as extra time for them to realize they're about to be speaking so they don't get caught off guard.

Doing this is actually kind of hard because every actor we work with reads at a different pace and the person actually playing the game has to keep that in mind. Oz, Vixen, Arim, and I can sight read most lines almost instantly. I've seen Oz and Vixen in particular read entire text boxes that were only onscreen for a couple frames. But, obviously, not everyone is that fast, so everyone gets different "advance the dialogue" speeds.

Ideally, if a game is well-written and the characters you're playing have a strong voice, you'll slowly fade into the character as you read them. You begin to feel the things they're saying rather than just reading words on a page. Once you hit that flow state, it becomes easier to process what they might logically say next. If you notice one of us make 2-3 errors in the span of just a few lines, it means we're probably not in that flow state.

Some games are also much easier to scan than others, usually because of their character poses.

A game like In Stars and Time has such incredible character portraits that you can usually tell the tone of the accompanying line within a few frames of a portrait change.

Loop (above) is an extremely suspicious and weird character, but voicing them was so much fun because I could always rely on the portraits and the font changes in the text to give me direction on how to play them accurately, even though I didn't actually know what their deal was until about halfway through our playthrough.

Coffee Talk also has very strong portraits that react in real time to the lines of dialogue. The framing can push characters smaller or larger in focus depending on how upset or meek they are, so it's very easy to react on sight and adjust accordingly.

Every time a game developer takes the time to painstakingly add portraits that match every single line, every time they add SFX to accentuate certain words, every time a font wiggles to tell you someone is speaking in a sing-songy way, that's all direction that the game's creators are giving you.

Another thing that helps is just media literacy. I think everyone on the channel is pretty good at that because, speaking frankly, I don't like hanging out with people who have bad media literacy, lmao.

The more media you consume, the easier it becomes to know how a story is going to go. Even a really well-written mystery usually has only 3-5 real options for an ending, and while you're reading games aloud it's a good practice to consider all of them equally so your reads make sense no matter what. You'll notice it's pretty rare something takes us entirely by surprise in a read-through.

Also, of note, it's much easier to notice specific foreshadowing and word choice in dialogue when you're reading it aloud as opposed to silently skimming.

A solid example is our fully-voiced playthrough of Trails From Zero, which actually happened on SurpriseRoundRPG a few years back and not my own Twitch or YouTube.

Minor spoilers, but the character above, Ernest, has some antagonistic interactions with your main party over the course of this game. He wants Ellie, the white-haired party member, to quit the police force (that's your group) and go back to working with him in the Mayor's office.

When Arim played this game solo he didn't really think much of this guy. However, when he played the game for us and we read it out loud, having lines like the one pictured above spoken aloud makes it kind of impossible not to notice that this man is a freak. Mo, his VA, ended up playing him as a manosphere incel weirdo because that's the vibe he was putting out, and, lo and behold, that's pretty much exactly the character he turned out to be.

There's a running theme on our channel where commenters are often surprised to see the game "play into our bits" and how we "accidentally predict things".

What's really happening is the reverse.

It's very, very rare that we decide to make up a bit from absolutely nothing. It's not a hard and fast rule, but I find we only make jokes and play up aspects of characters based on things that are already there. Hence that one time in Miles is a Robot when I said something awful and sexual as Ray Shields, Oz groaned, and I said "Hey man, I'll give him a different joke when the game gives me somethin' else to work with!" I didn't choose to make Ray awful and sexual all the time. That's just how he is, so that's the well we pulled bits from.

Because we only extrapolate from existing content and our "silly" versions of the characters onscreen are just exaggerated versions of what's really there, whenever the game gives us more info about them, the new stuff tends to be very in-line with the bits we've already been doing. It's not us being psychic. It's us being consistent!

It also helps that almost all the regulars on my channel have done professional voice work and have been doing some version of this for literally 10+ years. Practice makes perfect!

[kindaasrikal]

Zane and Lloyd choose to ignore half the things they hear across the monastery with their heightened hearing.

Pixal enjoys listening, hunting down, and then joining conversations suddenly with her own input.

Wu enjoys randomly mentioning something a ninja said years ago secretly on the other side of the city. Sometimes he even implies he heard them only five minutes ago planning to turn all of his tea leaves into coffee.

Garmadon likes to stare directly at people when he hears his name at any point, appears randomly when they do too.

+

Kai always eavesdrops by accident. He doesn’t mean to it just kinda happens. He feels guilty right after and avoids the person despite them having realised with his guilty glances and stutters as he tries not to expose himself.

Cole has learnt how to pick up background noises easily due to his time at his music school, where they made them study how to identify the best song for specific dances as a test. His hearing for small noises has gotten so good he can easily hear when Lloyd or Nya mimic his voice after he tells them off for something dumb.

Jay somehow is always in the room when things are being said, important things, secret things. Somehow, no one ever realises he’s there, not even when he’s loudly eating a bag of popcorn on the couch staring up at Wu and Garmadon arguing again over whether Sensei G, resurrected Garmadon, or Sensei Wu is the better teacher. They only realise he’s there when he says Mystake was a good teacher. (Based on Lloyd’s observations)

Nya is able to hear things from the water, from years ago. It takes a lot if patience and effort and never comes out completely clear to her, but the phrase ‘water has memory’ has never made so much sense when she could briefly hear a conversation between Wu and Maya on what she would name her children one day. She briefly mentions to Wu that the name ‘apolonticass’ is the worst thing she’s ever heard.

Morro is able to hear whispers briefly using the wind, like how Nya can hear old conversations briefly from the water. He enjoys sending whispers in the wind back, or to people to mess with them. Sometimes Lloyd has to whip his head around a few times to make sure he really couldn’t punch Morro for making his hear “your lips are dry” for the tenth time today. When it stopped and he met Euphrasia, he was so happy to be free.

Until Euphrasia started asking why the wind wants her to blow Lloyd’s hair dramatically into his face.

[howlett-n-morgan]

More Than Words

3. An Advantageous Journey

Logan Howlett x OC!Reader

Series Summary: Having lived for over two hundred years and never having the privilege of human touch is the biggest burden imaginable... until someone comes along with the healing ability to withstand the touch of death.

Chapter Warnings: mild language, mentions of scars and blood, a few traumatic events and ptsd symptoms, mostly fluff in this one guys… but LOGAN IS A WARNING. Oh and also I’m not from Canada and only have one Canadian friend so my apologies if Canada is depicted poorly… she was like ‘it’s just like America except there’s more snow and some people speak French’

Chapter Summary: Going back to Canada is supposed to be a quick trip that benefits Logan’s memory, but upon arriving, he seems to think that a fews days need be spent on diversions.

Word Count: 15.3k (God help me-)

“Then how were they able to cut you up?”  Poor phrasing, but he was never one for a gentle touch in his wording.  “Same way you were able to,” you reminded him, rolling up your sleeve to show where his claw marks had almost completely healed over. “Adamantium.” “Adamantium? You’re kidding,” he almost found it funny, the irony of it all. He’s the only one who can touch you, but he’s also the only one who can hurt you. “How’d they figure that out?”

The professor was the first one to speak to Logan the morning you both planned on leaving the mansion. Everyone was made aware of this, but few people understood why it was so necessary. Even Scott, who had endured some of the same treatment as you and Logan, did not know how to justify such a spontaneous trip in the midst of all the chaos surrounding mutants. Especially after the recent situation with Magneto.

It could be dangerous, but above all things, it could also bring answers. And Logan needed answers. About who he was, what he did, and where he’s supposed to go, now. The pain from his nightmares has subsided only a small bit while being here with everyone. He wants to make them go away for good. 

When Charles sits him down in the study that morning, he thinks he understands why. You’re a very important member of the team. He wants to make sure you return, and without a scratch. It makes sense in his mind… but the professor has other ideas for the conversation. 

“How long do you both plan on being away?” He asks, keeping a tether on Logan’s mind in case he is even the slightest bit dishonest. 

“Not sure,” he began with a sigh, sitting back into the seat he’d been given. “I guess it depends.”

“On what, exactly?” Charles kept his questioning thorough, but not for the reason of interrogating him. 

“On what we find.” Logan shrugged his shoulders and raised a brow. He really had no idea what he was going into when you said you’d take him to Stryker’s old bunker. “Guessing from the nightmares I’ve had, it’s not really a nice place.”

“Well, I assure you,” Charles began, turning his chair to the side and reaching for some documents on his desk. “You are in the best of hands. The very best. I just hope you know how lucky you really are.”

“Lucky? How so?” Logan’s curiosity wandered. He knew you were a valuable member of the team, and he was grateful that you would offer him such a strenuous task on your own shoulders, but he caught on that there was more that Charles hadn’t spoken. 

“Alice is a rare mutant. Like you, she can stand the tests of time, and never waiver. She is nearly immortal, and takes her job of protecting others very seriously.” 

“I picked that up,” Logan nodded in agreement. “She cares a lot about saving people.”

“She cares even more for those who are close to her,” the old man warned, his expression becoming more solemn and serious. “She will go to incredible lengths to keep her loved ones out of harm’s way.”

Logan was beginning to wonder where the point was in all of this. He knew you were the type to look out for others above yourself. You were an X-man, it kind of came as a job requirement… but more than that, he knew you were kinder than most people were, and the help you extended to him was not just a simple favor. 

“She has never experienced a bond like she has with you… with human touch.”

He understands now. Your powers, and the impact they have had on you is immense. You have to keep everyone at arm’s length, except for him. He can be let in, and he can do the things that others can’t.

“What exactly are you telling me?” Logan pondered, gruffly. Even with the professor’s point being made, he was still curious as to why he would bring this all up.

“I’m telling you to be careful. She’s already grown strongly attached to you for the sake of your touch, and will likely become fonder in these days to come. I ask you to think about and consider her feelings when you take her with you… If you hurt her, the consequences would be unimaginable.”

Logan does consider them, for a split second he considers them. He knows you’re fond of him, otherwise this escapade would not even be happening… but he also knows that his ability to touch you is the defining factor. His feelings for someone else block out any signs that your interest in him could further develop, at least past what it is already. Even with all this in mind, Logan is a smartass, and wants to tempt the man in charge by challenging his threat. 

“I can imagine quite a bit,” he smirked, nodding his head side to side. 

Charles did not take that comedically whatsoever, and Logan didn’t really expect him to. It was probably a bad idea to open his mouth in the first place. 

“You mock me when I’m trying to help you?” 

“No sir,” he let out with a breath. 

“The consequences I speak of would not be dealt by I or any of her colleagues…”

“Then by who?” Logan asked, his voice not raised, but becoming more prominent as the conversation became more pointed than it was before. “Is there some big bad monster I should be worried about?” 

Charles sighed. He wasn’t getting anywhere, and Logan only seemed to become irritated the more he spoke. He took a glance into the man’s mind, and found that a beautiful woman with long red hair rested among his thoughts, though he should not be thinking about the woman that is most definitely taken. 

“I can see that your mind is clouded by thoughts of someone else,” Xavier changed the subject, tapping into the specific thoughts and trying to gather more details. It appears this conversation was mostly for nothing. Charles sighs, “Do not hurt Alice, Logan. If you do, her pain will become yours.”

“I won’t hurt her,” Logan stood up, assuming this was the last of the professor’s advisory words. He was becoming quickly annoyed with how little the man trusted him, and how intrusive he’d been this whole time. 

He wouldn’t lead you on, but he wouldn’t shut you out, either. You’d been so helpful to him, he wasn’t going to push away the one piece of his past that just might bring everything together. That would be foolish of him. 

“Logan,” The professor stopped him one more time, and he turned to look at the man, sitting straight and with a firm gaze from his wheelchair. “When the time is right, ask her about a man named Charlie.”

Logan sighed, filing that thought away in his mind before heading back upstairs to pack some of his belongings together. 

-

You never wanted to go back to Canada. 

You swore after you got out the first time that nothing good could ever come out of Canada and you stuck to that belief. 

But you’d met Logan in Canada, and he wasn’t so bad. Scott, too… although he’d been a teenager at the time and was much more annoying back then.

“On your way already?” Ororo was leaning in your doorway when you looked up, watching you stuff your travel backpack until it could barely zip up on the side. 

“About to be,” you heaved it up onto your back, adjusting your posture to hold it correctly, then walked to meet her at the door. “I wasn’t going to leave without saying goodbye.”

She grabbed your hand, covered in your little green gloves. “Keep in touch, will you?” 

“I will, I promise,” you nodded gently. “I won’t stay away for long.”

“You say that now,” she crossed her arms and shook her head jokingly. “But going away with a guy that looks like that? And he’s the only man in the world that can touch you? Baby, I’ll be lucky if I ever see you again.”

You laughed along with her, giving a warm smile and a nod. “He’s something…”

“He’s ready to go,” Logan teased, coming up behind Ororo.

You blushed, knowing he probably heard the conversation while leaving his room. You avoided making eye contact with him yet, just gave a thin lip smile while looking back to your dear friend and saying your last goodbyes. You only wished you could hug her close to you, for all the years she’s spent in your corner. 

“I guess I’ll see you around, Ro.” 

“Don’t be a stranger… Call me when you can.” She gave you a strong look, indicating that she was serious, and not just playing along for the sake of goodbyes.

“You know I will…” you trailed, giving her one more squeeze of the hand before walking behind Logan towards the stairs. 

Once at the bottom, there was just a slight obstacle. Rogue caught you both leaving, and had a few words to say. 

You’d admit, you felt bad leaving her here, especially when you’d been so adamant to her before that you were going to teach her about her powers and how to get used to them without the fear of hurting others. It’s only now that you realize you won’t be able to help in the most detrimental stages of her mutant education… but you would return. You knew you would. 

You had to help Logan, first. He was the priority. He saved your life once, and it was time to pay that debt forward. 

Logan had left his dog tags with Rogue, along with a promise that he would be back. Of course he would… Or maybe he wouldn’t. You never thought about what could happen if he should find his memories and remember who he is. He might have loved ones and a family to return to…

“She’s got a crush on you,” you mentioned to him once you were out of the house. You looked at him, and he seemed unsurprised. “And she trusts you…”

“I figured that much,” he smirked, walking towards the main garage around the side of the large house. 

“Did you mean it?” 

“Did I mean what?” He turned to ask you, his features twisted in confusion. 

You sighed, stopping at the garage door but making no motion to use the lock pad to open it. 

“When you said you were going to come back…” you trailed, scanning your thumb print on the pad so the door would fold up. State of the art technology for the lock, but the same old door from the seventies. 

It took him longer than you expected to answer the question, but you figured since it held some weight, it was good that he thought it out clearly. 

“Yeah, I meant it.”

You looked to him, the decision he made was worn on his face and it was easy to see he was telling the truth. 

“Good,” you nodded, walking inside first and grabbing your keys from your pocket. Logan immediately gave you a glance of mischief, and walked in the other direction. 

“Logan, no…”

“Logan, yes,” he taunted, going over to sit on the motorcycle that belonged to Scott. You weren’t going to play this game with him.

“We are not going all the way to Canada on a bike.” You were trying to be the reasonable one here, but he was so damn stubborn. Two could play that game, you were stubborn, too. “Get in the car.”

“Get on the bike,” he nodded behind him, the open seat looking appealing for only a moment. “I know you want to…”

“No, I don’t…” you opened the driver’s side door, and climbed in, shutting it behind you… but he didn’t budge from the damn motorcycle. 

When he turned it on, the engine roaring to life and revving from the motions of his hand, you closed your eyes for a split second before doing the worst thing you could have possibly done. You climbed out of the car and went to the motorcycle, swinging a leg over and holding onto him with a big huff. He knew you did it for show, not because you were actually upset. 

“Comfy?” He threw a smirk over his shoulder, and you huffed again for emphasis. 

“No.”

He just laughed, pulling out of the garage and onto the road. 

You would admit, the wind in your hair, and the lovely smell of the pine trees lining the streets was wonderful. All the sights on the way to your destination were quite lovely, and though you could see them from your car just the same, it wouldn’t feel like this. 

This feels like flying, almost, with the breeze beneath your wings, and the sounds of nature as you pass through. 

Logan can almost sense your smile when you drive by a particular area full of color changing aspens, the scenery surrounding you felt almost like a dream, something from out of a movie. 

He never said anything to taunt you about being right, or made a comment about how much you seemed to be enjoying yourself. It was silent between you both for hours, until the sun began had set, and you’d finally crossed the border into Canada. 

“We’re gonna have to stop soon for the night,” he mentioned when you’d pulled off the road to get something to eat. Just a little rest-stop… gas stations, fast food, the works. You’d spotted a sign a few miles back for a motel, but weren’t sure where to go in order to get there. 

“Fill up the tank, I’ll go inside and ask about directions,” you told him, swinging your leg off of the bike and walking away. 

He was certain that this dynamic between the two of you was working well already, and that he didn’t need to heed Charle’s words as much as he originally intended. You seemed to go with the flow of things, and were rather easy to get along with… and you didn’t seem to be super into him like the professor said you would be. You cared about him, sure… but he cared about you too, and without crossing any lines. 

Filling up the bike, he leaned against the metal machinery, his head dozing back and forth from his tired state. It wasn’t until you returned, holding a map and a bag of gas station pastries that he was fully aware again. 

“The guy marked that motel out for me on the map,” you said, unfolding the paper and showing it to him, the red marker lining the road and the turn off. “It’s two exits down.”

“Easy enough.” He took a look at the marked location for himself, waiting for the gas pump to finish topping off the tank.

“I got you a donut,” you said, handing him a paper bag like your own. You’d pulled a maple donut from yours, so he was appalled to find that his was not also a maple donut. 

“Chocolate?” His eyebrows raised, only teasing you, but still just slightly butthurt about the donut. 

“You don’t like chocolate?” You furrowed your eyebrows, talking with your mouth full of the first bite you took.

“Did they not have any other maple glazed?” he nodded to yours, the joking nature still filling his tone. 

“This was the last one.” You reasoned. You found it a little funny, but felt a little bad at the same time. 

He huffed, shaking his head, but then you smiled sweetly, holding out the donut with a single bite taken to him. 

“I’ll trade you,” you offered, knowing that in the end, it was just a donut compared to the grand scheme of things. 

“Thanks,” he muttered gratefully, a sideways smile spreading on his cheeks. He’ll admit, it was a sweet gesture, no matter how small. He handed you the chocolate donut, and took a bite out of the one you gave him. “Maple donuts are for real Canadians.”

“You’re Canadian?” you asked, a bit of surprise coming from you. You met him in Canada, but it was somehow still a shock to you. He seemed very American when you first met him, and even now. 

“S’one of the only things I can remember,” he nodded, his demeanor livening up quickly, and all because of a donut.

“Huh,” you stared off, wondering if he’d known Stryker for long before his memory faltered. Clearly he’d been abused by the man, but to what extent, you weren’t sure. You have bits and pieces of memories from that era, and most were just feelings of the energy around you.

“You didn’t know?” 

“You didn’t tell me…” you trailed, enjoying the chocolate donut, despite maple donuts being better. Him enjoying it was satisfying enough.

“We should get out of here,” he yawned, crumpling up the paper bag and tossing it into a nearby trash can. “Road is dark, and I’m tired.”

“Big, strong, manly… but gets tired on a little road trip?” You teased, finishing up the pastry before throwing away the trash and getting back on the bike with him.

“You try steering this thing all day.” He threw a smirk over his shoulder, revving the engine. 

“I would, if you’d let me,” you chided, another taunt that you knew wouldn’t end in your favor. He’d never be caught dead on the back of a motorcycle like this with someone else behind the handles.

“Not a chance…” 

-

Having checked into the small motel, you ached for a shower, but given that Logan was practically falling asleep already, you let him go first. 

Maybe it was a mistake, he’d been in there for a while, and you thought maybe all the hot water would be gone by the time it was your turn. You just hoped he hadn’t fallen asleep in there, propped against the shower wall. 

You might just shower tomorrow at this point, unwilling to wait for the water to heat back up. 

With a sigh, you changed into something a little more comfortable, the pair of sweatpants and sweater that were shoved to the bottom of your giant backpack. It was wrinkled as all hell from the journey, but you knew that didn’t matter. It was cozy, and warm, and being in Canada as late fall was setting in meant you needed to be as warm as possible. 

You curled up on the queen bed closest to the heater with your book, which you’d deemed necessity enough to bring on this escapade to another country.

When Logan finally emerged, he’d adorned a pair of flannel pants, and a gray t-shirt, which was admittedly a bit small for him. The fabric hugged his body a bit tighter than he was used to, but good lord almighty… this man looked stunning. 

The dim light from the bathroom, mixed with the warm glow from your bedside lamp while you read, it made him look like he glistened. The stray water drops on his face and neck, and the quickly curling upwards strands of his damp hair. You never guessed that his hair just did that naturally. You found yourself staring a little too long, and as soon as Logan picked up on it, dropping the towel he used to dry his hair, he chanced a look in your direction. Quickly your eyes found the pages of your book again, and you kept a straight face, hoping nothing would be said about it.

“That a good book?” he smirked, knowing that you could barely even focus on it a second ago. 

“Mhm,” you zoned in on the words, reading them over and over, but none of what they mean stuck in your head. You could only think about what you just saw, and what you still could see if only you turned your gaze. 

“It looks old,” he commented on the bent pages and old fabric cover. It looked worn and well loved. 

“It is old. I got it on the day it was released in nineteen fifty-three.”

He whistled lowly, his eyebrows raising in surprise. “You read it a lot?”

“Once a year,” you mumbled, still acting engrossed with the page you’d been stuck on since he entered the room. “It’s my favorite book.”

“What’s it about?” He sat down on the edge of his bed, leaning forward and looking at you tiredly. He was exhausted, wasn’t he? Why didn’t he just say goodnight and go to bed?

“The future… the way the author thinks our societies will begin to crumble,” you explained, turning towards him and letting the book fall on your chest, pages still open. “Books will be outlawed, and a group called the firemen will be required to burn any that are found.”

“Sounds interesting… also sounds a little miserable. Why’s it your favorite?” He grinned, throwing his sheets and blankets up and lying beneath them, keeping his head propped up on his hand so he wouldn’t fall asleep yet. The warm glow of your bedside lamp cast him in such a pretty glow…

“I think it feels very real to me, in a way…”

“You think books are gonna be outlawed?” He laughed slightly, clearly finding himself misunderstanding your meaning. 

“No, but with the way things are playing out, it feels like a projection of what’s to come. Of course, they will make the enemies of the future out to be mutants, not books.”

“And these… firemen,” he put finger quotes around the word, trying to be hypothetical about the situation. “You think there will be groups like that?” 

“Mutant hunters? Absolutely… They’re already out there, just look at what happened to us,” you sighed, the facts of the matter weighing you down, even though it had been a pleasant conversation. You enjoyed talking about your favorite book, but everyone in the mansion had already heard about it a thousand times. It was refreshing to get a new audience to share thoughts with. 

“I never thought about it that way…” he furrowed his brow, his eyes drooping with every second passed. He had to be fighting sleep for his life. 

“Mutants are supposed to be the future… but we’ll never see that future if we have to battle extinction.” 

He didn’t reply, his mind elsewhere. You watched him carefully, his face looking deep in thought. You returned to your book by the time he finally spoke up again. 

“You’ll have to let me borrow that book sometime,” he rolled over as he said it, so when you glanced over at him, his back was facing you. “G’night, Alice.”

“Night, Logan…”

-

In the morning, you woke up later than usual, no alarm clock or imminent threat looming to pull you from your slumber. It was nice, being able to wake up naturally for the first time in years. You felt so well rested that you nearly forgot where you were. The chill air of the morning surrounded you just outside of the thick blankets and sheets you were under, but it wasn’t unpleasant, it was refreshing. 

When you opened your eyes, you began to recall everything slowly. Sitting up, you find that Logan isn’t in the bed across from you, or in the room at all. You furrow your brow and stand to your feet, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes when a note catches your eye. 

Placed on a tiny table by the janky minifridge, there’s a paper bag and a torn off napkin with some words scribbled on it. 

Be back soon… got you something.

Inside the paper bag was a maple donut. It looked really good, too. Much better than the fifty-cent one you’d traded to him the night before. 

You smiled and took a bite, eating while going about your morning routine, wanting to shower and  get ready to leave the motel. You weren’t sure what Logan was up to, but with him being Canadian and all, you’re sure he’s just happy to be back. 

He knocked on the door, the latch lock seeming to have been flipped over when he left. 

You dropped your change of clothes back onto your bed, running over to the door and letting him in. He seemed to have a relaxed grin on his face, and looking at his clothing, there was a light sheen of icy water coating his leather jacket. 

“C’mere,” he pulled you along, completely barefoot and still in your pajamas. 

Once outside, you saw that the grounds were covered with just a small dusting of snow. It wasn’t thick, or freezing, but it was still falling around you, and you suddenly didn’t mind getting dragged away from the warm room. 

“It’s snowing already?” You asked in confusion, as if he had the answer. 

“It’s Canada, what did you expect?” 

You just continued to enjoy the pretty sights around you, then realized your feet were still bare and you were likely going to make yourself sick if you didn’t go back inside. 

“Let me go shower and we can check out,” you muttered, looking at him and finding he was just as captured by the beauty of a quickly approaching winter wonderland. 

“I’ll make sure the bike is thawed out,” he joked, nodding to you. 

After you went back inside, he walked around to the front to where the bike was parked in the covered area. It wasn’t too cold, but it would still need some time for the metal to heat up. He’d been able to start the motor not too long after, and pulled it around the side of the motel to be closer to where you had stayed. 

He should have knocked before going inside, and he regrets not doing so, but upon opening the door to you half dressed, having yet to pull up your jeans, he seems to be frozen in place. You don’t notice him at first, and with the second glance he gets, he sees all the scars littered over your legs and hips. He remembers the first night when you’d put all the pieces together, knowing you’d met him before. You knew about his past, and he got a peek into yours. You'd told him a man named Stryker gave you those scars.

“Shit, Logan…” You trailed, yanking up your jeans faster and hopping your feet to speed up the process. When you noticed he’d just been standing there you panicked, and nearly fell down trying to get your pants up. “Don’t you knock?”

“I’m sorry,” he blinked himself out of it, furrowing his brow and dripping his eyes. He had to physically shake himself from the trance. “I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s fine,” you stopped him, grabbing your things and packing them away, sliding your backpack on and walking past him. Your hair was still wet from your shower, but you didn’t want to stay inside and let the moment linger any longer. “Let’s get out of here, we still have a long way to drive.”

-

The hike through the fresh snow had been a little uncomfortable, mostly happening in silence. Since this morning, you’d barely spoken a word to him. You’d ridden miles and miles on the back of the bike without talking. Usually he was the silent type himself, but he’d felt bad for what happened, even after apologizing, so he decided it rested on his shoulders to break the quiet streak.

“I’ve been thinking… those scars,” he tried to broach the subject lightly, looking at you with a careful eye. “You’d said you were bulletproof, and fireproof. I had it in my head that you were impenetrable.”

“I am,” you gave him a flat stare, nodding your head a little.

“Then how were they able to cut you up?” 

Poor phrasing, but he was never one for a gentle touch in his wording. 

“Same way you were able to,” you reminded him, rolling up your sleeve to show where his claw marks had almost completely healed over. “Adamantium.”

“Adamantium? You’re kidding,” he almost found it funny, the irony of it all. He’s the only one who can touch you, but he’s also the only one who can hurt you. “How’d they figure that out?”

You kept on with your trek through the forest, the explanation rolling around in your head before you told him aloud.

“They’d been trying to take me apart for years, and all I’d do is rot in a cell… then they found a mutant called Lava, and she was the only person who could melt the adamantium they’d discovered. I guess they ran out of options with me… so,” you sighed, raising your eyebrows and trying to keep composure while talking about it. Opening up to him did little to help his own memory, but you did so anyway. Because he asked. “They coated a surgical set in adamantium to see what would happen… and it worked. They started taking parts of me wherever I could spare them.”

He had come to a slow stop, but you hadn’t noticed, continuing through the forest on your own, trying to make it to the edge of the lake before it got too dark. You at least wanted to pinpoint the location for tomorrow’s journey through the past. 

You turned around to see him standing dead still, a look on his face the likes of which you couldn’t decipher… What was he thinking behind those pretty eyes? 

“Logan, you okay?” 

He blinked out of his thoughts. You wondered if maybe he was remembering something and you’d stopped him. 

“Yeah, I just,” he shook his head and caught up with you, the solemn look not leaving his face. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

You shrugged, keeping in stride with him, not falling behind or going ahead this time. The conversation helped ease the awkwardness that came before in the silence. “It’s alright. It was a while ago… besides, you were the one who saved me, you don’t need to be the one apologizing.”

The hike kept on in a much more comfortable silence. The sun would be going down soon, and you didn’t want to spend the night out in the woods, especially when it had been starting to snow today. 

When you came across the small stream, leading to the edge of the lake, you picked up speed. 

“Should be right up here,” you told him, leading the way through the mucky ground, moist with melted snow and mud. 

You’d seen it before he did. You stopped in your tracks the second you looked across. 

He caught up, taking a look for himself, but quickly growing concerned with howtense and unmoving you were. Your expression had changed from the relaxed one it had been wearing to a firm yet frightened stare. It was eerily quiet, and you couldn’t move your feet. Your hands balled into fists and one at a time, the memories of this place came rushing back. Just seeing the base, abandoned and covered in rust, was enough to make you want to cry. You felt all the loneliness, all the pain, and all the lost hope that used to plague you in this very place.

“You okay, kid?” Logan came closer, and you nodded, putting on a brave face and turning to him with a forced look of calmness. 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you even managed a stiff smile, but you refused to turn back towards the base, letting your shoulder have the pleasure of the view instead. “It’s getting dark, though.”

“Yeah,” he nodded, watching as you were quickly back on the path you came from, trying to keep the composure that you weren’t sure would hold. “Alright.”

He trailed on after you, and just before the sun was all the way below the mountains, you’d managed to get back to the road. The bike was cold again, but thankfully it started without a problem. 

He’d tried too hard to get to a comfortable place with you, but again he felt back at square one, sitting in awkward silence like he did this morning. Your hold on him wasn’t as tight as usual, and you didn’t seem to care how unsteady it was with every turn of the bike. 

You rode down the street about ten miles or so before coming across a small fishing town, with restaurants, bars, neighborhood markets, and even a cozy little motel. Much better looking than the one you’d stayed in the night previous.

He’d been the one to get checked in tonight, getting everything settled and making sure you were comfortable. You still weren’t in a chatty mood, but you’d loosened up just enough to have civil conversation, and answer the questions he would ask you. 

He let you take the first shower tonight, and you were out in only a few minutes, racing to get tucked into bed as quickly as possible. 

He took his time, knowing you were probably just going through the motions of being here, and he needed to let you experience it at your own pace. After all, you remember this place, and he doesn’t. The only thing he recalls are the torturous nightmares that plague his sleep. That alone tells him all he needs to know about the horrors and chaos this place caused.

He’s surprised to find you still awake when he gets out of the shower, towel around his hips and water running over his body. He thought you’d be asleep, so out of habit he didn’t bring his clothes in with him to change. 

He sees you’re reading your book, the one about the future. You’re so engrossed in it, your eyes never leaving the pages. He wonders if it’s a coping tool, a comfort item of sorts. He’d never thought of a book as a security blanket before, being written words on paper.

He didn’t say anything yet, unwilling to interrupt how calm you seemed to be now. Just grabbed his clothes and went back to the bathroom. 

Maybe going back there tomorrow isn’t a good idea. He appreciates the openness of your heart to do such a favor for him, but he doesn't want to cause you distress for his own gain. You’ve shown him where it is. He knows how to find it on his own, now. If he can convince you to stay back here, he’ll go on his own, find the answers himself. 

When he emerges the second time, you’ve laid your book down on the bedside table, placing a bookmark between the worn pages before settling yourself. He sits down on the edge of his own bed, and makes eye contact. You don’t break it first, but you remain silent. A man of few words, but he seemed to be the more chatty one today.

“I didn’t say anything before, but you seemed a little, uh… scared, earlier.”

You didn’t change the expression you wore, but somehow he could feel the shift in your emotions. He just wanted to ask and see if this was too much for you.

“I wasn’t scared, just remembered some stuff is all,” You sighed out, laying down and still looking over at him here and there, but not willing to speak more than what you’d said.

“You wanna talk about it?” 

It was an open offer, but he already knew the answer. For someone who seemed so extroverted and talkative when he met you, you’d somehow turned into a reserved and silent little girl since this morning.

“No…” You trailed, the word coming out soft and gentle.

“Okay,” he nodded, getting comfortable before rolling over and calling out to you as you turned out the light. “Goodnight…”

“Night, Logan.”

-

In the morning, you were already awake, clinging to your knees as you focused very hard on looking out the window by your bed. When he looked at the clock and read six, he figured you must not have slept well. He barely slept most of the time. His regeneration made it easy to stay awake days at a time, and he only needed a few hours to function. Not to mention he was often plagued with nightmares. He hasn’t had them the past few nights, which he finds strange, but at the same time, he isn’t complaining whatsoever. 

He swung his legs out of bed when he saw you were unmoving, just like yesterday at the lake. 

“Hey,” he placed a hand at your shoulder, softly breaking you from your endless stare. “You doin’ alright?” 

“Yeah, I just woke up a little early.”

Your little smile was forced, and he could tell, but didn’t say anything to negate your response. He just sat down beside you on the edge of the bed, looking outside the window where your gaze lingered. There was nothing specific to look at, just a view of the parking lot, and a few trees framed a small log cabin bar next door. 

“I uh… I had an idea last night…” he trailed, gaining your attention as you turned to him. “What if we took a few days.”

“What do you mean?” you furrowed your brows, tilting your head as you laid it on your curled up knees. 

“I mean, what if we don’t go to the base right away?” he suggested with a shrug. It had been a good idea in his head, to straggle behind a few days, and make the journey through the past when you were more settled. “I could tell the way it got to you last night, after you saw it.”

“Logan, I’m fine. Promise,” you nodded your head as if to assure yourself, but even as you were doing it you knew it didn’t look convincing. 

“You weren’t fine,” he corrected, unafraid to voice his concerns by now. “Look, you brought me here, and I’m really grateful… but you were uncomfortable to even look at that place, and I could see that.”

You huffed out a sigh, shaking your head and trying to seem like there was no reason for concern. You didn’t want him to back out after coming all this way just on your account. This was for him, not for you. 

“I’ll be okay,” you put on a more stern face, grabbing his hand. The gesture was more for your own comfort rather than his, but even still, you meant what you said. “I’d spent a long time trying to forget that place, and last night everything just sort of came back… but as long as you’re there, I’ll be okay.”

He listened constantly, the warmth of your touch was always so energizing to him. It made him feel like he was somehow stronger and charged with determination. He figured it had something to do with your mutation, and his ability to survive it. Not just survive, but thrive on it.

“You saved me from Stryker, Logan,” you let your legs fall from their curled position, scooting just a bit closer to him, his eyes never leaving yours, and his hand still lingered around the skin of your own. “I feel safe when I’m with you.”

His chest tightened when he heard those words. He’d realized only now what the professor's words meant a few mornings ago. He recalls exactly how they were said, and why. 

Don’t hurt her, Logan. 

It wasn’t just about the ability to touch, which he would admit was definitely a struggle in itself when he’d thought about how long you’ve been alive, with no one to cling to. Aside from the skin to skin contact, you trusted him. You felt safe in his presence. Most of all, you were doing all of this for him without asking anything in return, and he figured you didn’t even care if you got anything out of it in the long run. 

Charles didn’t want Logan to fall all over you in immediate love and commitment. He just wanted him to take care of you, attend to you and make sure you weren’t without comfort, especially in this terrible place you were headed. 

Her pain will become your own. 

It wasn’t about you becoming vengeful if you got hurt, and it wasn’t about your loved ones making him pay for his actions. He understood that now, too. It was about the guilt and shame he would feel for not having been there to help you should anything happen. Should this very situation happen. He won’t let you go it alone. 

“C’mere,” he sat further back, raising his other arm and beckoning you to sit closer with him. 

You didn’t even hesitate to climb under his wing so to speak, and lean against him as he’d gestured for you to do. He wrapped that arm around you, his head resting over top of your soft and slightly unruly morning hair. His other hand stayed in yours, unbudging for the time you sat there. 

At one point you’d felt so calm you closed your eyes, just absorbing his energy and feeling the comfort from it. It was a rough and hard facade at first, but his energy held layers, and the more you relaxed into him, the better you could feel what lies beneath. You could feel his gentleness, and his soft spirit, willing him to go wherever the wind blows. You could feel the slight sadness and confusion that he seemed to internalize every day. Probably from lacking his past, the memories and the people he used to have before Stryker messed him up. 

“I think taking a few days doesn’t sound so bad, you know?” You said quietly, just loud enough to reach his ears. 

“Yeah?” he smiled, looking down at you when you nodded. Your expression was happier than it had been before, the traces of fear were gone from your eyes. “It’ll be fun. I’ll show you a good time, then maybe you can change your mind about Canada.”

“Unlikely,” you laughed softly, your own smile taking over as you met his eyes. “You’re not so bad, for a Canadian, though.”

“I’ll take what I can get.”

He’d stuck to his word. 

He’d shown you a good time around the small town, though he claims he’s never been there before. All the small business families were very kind and embracing, although it got to a point where talking to them was becoming detrimental to the length of your trip. Everywhere you went into, whether it be a shop, a small town bakery, or even an entertainment hub, there were people recommending things to do and see. And of course, you were not one to say no to an Adventure. 

On the back of the motorcycle, you’d gone practically all over the town, meeting people, and always being introduced the same way by Logan. 

‘I’m Canadian, she’s not… She doesn’t like it here much, I wanna change her mind.’

You laughed almost every time at the way the people would react, but would nod gleefully when they made suggestions on activities. You found yourself liking Canada, but only because Logan was here. He was making you laugh, and smile wider than you think you ever have. Not even three days into this endeavor, and already you’ve decided you’re falling for him. 

You don’t know how deeply he reciprocates those feelings, because he’s a flirt with nearly everyone… but the soft and gentle moments, like this morning, lead you to believe there’s something else there. Some part of him that is drawn to you like you are to him. 

His lingering touch on the small of your back when he opens the door and guides you through, or the arm slung around your shoulder to steer you in a different direction when something interesting catches his eye. Even the way he nonchalantly fixes your hair when he’s talking to you and the wind blows it out of place. It’s all so casual in the way it happens, and yet, it means everything to someone like you. Someone who has lived for two centuries without the normalcy of touch and comfort from another person. 

You try not to focus too much on what it means, and decide to live in the moment to enjoy each time those little touches happen. 

By the end of the day, you think maybe he’s taking you back to the ‘Cozy Pine Tree Inn’ that you were rooming at… but instead he pulls into the parking lot across the sidewalk. 

The half-working neon sign over the porch read ‘Jackalope Neighborhood Pub’ and when you looked inside, there must have been about ten people total, including the two bartenders behind the counter. 

It wasn’t a huge place to begin with, and the population of the town was probably less than the amount of students you had each week, but it was cozy, and you appreciated the warmth of it all, even though it was brutally cold. 

“Go on inside, I gotta put this under that covering in case it snows,” he encouraged, letting you hop off with a spring in your step. 

The inside was just as you thought it would be. Cozy, warm, dimly lit. The walls were covered in old pictures and heads of various hunted animals from up in the mountains. Sitting down at the bar, you shed your jacket and let it hang on the back of your low-back stool, keeping your gloves on for safety.

“Hi there, pretty darlin,” a man came up beside you, a smile on his face and a drunken twinkle in his eye. 

“Hi,” you smiled back kindly, nodding to him.

“Never seen you here before, I guess you’re new,” he came a bit closer, and even though he didn’t try anything yet, it made you nervous when people get this close. Your skin is covered, but it still makes you uneasy.

“I’m just visiting, actually… I live in New York.”

No, you didn’t owe him an explanation, but you felt the only way to keep him at bay would be to answer his curiosities as quickly as you could, not giving him room to think about anything else. 

“Why don’t I buy you a drink? A pretty girl in a place like this needs a drink.”

“I’m okay, but thank you. I’m actually here with someone, he’ll be back in a second,” you spoke quicker when the man took another step beside you, leaning up against the bar now and reaching for your hand. 

“Awe, c’mon… m’sure your buddy won’t mind,” he tried to grab at your forearm in a teasing manner, but you pulled your hands from the counter, pulling your sleeves down to cover the skin of your wrist that your gloves didn’t quite shield.

“Don’t touch me,” you rushed out, a panic beginning to pour over your words. “You could get hurt.”

“I could get hurt, huh? You're gonna hurt me, pretty thing?”

“You don’t understand,” you breathed shallow, trying to keep calm to no avail. “Please, just leave me alone.”

“Baby, I think you want me to stay right here,” he again got closer, trying to cage you in by bringing his arms on both sides of you and trapping your stool in front of him. 

Simply trying to get out of the situation without causing a scene, you leaned forward against the bar, pushing at one arm to try and sneak out… but as it turns out, you didn’t even have to.

Logan pulled the man away by his neck, looking him face to face and giving a harsh but somehow unbothered stare. This man was of no real threat to him, clearly.

“Leave my girl alone…” he let out calmly, though it was filled with threat. You knew he’d only added the possession for effective purposes, but you felt your heart stutter in your chest at the sound of it. 

The man didn’t even speak another word, rushing off to the other side of the bar. He wasn’t a small man by any means, but Logan, standing at six foot two, with a strong build and a deep temperament was sure to scare anyone off. 

Logan sat down at the bar next to you, ordering a beer for himself, and a whiskey for you. He owed you some payback Jack Daniel’s, if he remembers correctly. 

“Thanks,” you threw him a smile and a nod, which he returned. 

“Guy’s a creep,” he let out, his brows raised and an eager look on his face when the beer bottle was set in front of him. “Hope he didn’t ruin Canada for you.”

You laughed for what had to be the hundredth time today, shaking your head. 

“Of course, not. The only thing that could ruin it is what we actually came here to do,” you joked, sipping on your drink as soon as it was put in front of you. 

There was a beat of silence, before a thought that popped into Logan’s mind turned into a question. 

“So, how long have you been at the school?” 

You gave him a glance, tilting your head and trying to think of an answer that made sense.

“Well that depends, do you mean as it is today? Or when it first started?” You found yourself turning towards him more instead of facing the bar.

“Uh, all of it?” 

He took another swig and chuckled at the strangeness of your insistence for elaboration. It was a long and complicated story, but you had to find a simple and short way to explain it.

“Charles found me by cerebro a long time ago, when I was in New York City studying for my history degree,” you took another drink, eyes watching the ice swirl around the bottom of the glass as you tipped it in different directions. “He snatched me up, and a bunch of other mutants, and we saved the world… Which I guess is a typical Tuesday now, but back then it was a big deal for us. The professor had opened the school, but I left right after some of the others did..”

“You left? Why?” His confusion stemmed from what he’s seen. That place was your home, and those people were your family. He doesn’t know why any mutant would want to leave the walls of that mansion, where it was safe.

You shrugged, a bit hesitant to even try and remember what the real reasoning was. “It was the sixties, everyone wanted their own path of freedom. That was the thing back then, wasn't it? Free love, free drugs, free spirits.”

He raised a brow, looking at you with a bit of surprise, which faded just as fast. 

“I keep forgetting how old you are,” he smirked, huffing a small laugh and shaking his head. “If I didn’t know any better I’d say you were barely an adult.”

You often thought about that. What you would have looked like if you’d been able to grow older. Would your face have thinned out from its girlish fullness? Would you have formed little crows feet at the corners of your eyes? Would you even resemble the same person you’ve looked in the mirror to see for all these years?

“If you want to be technical, I’m physically twenty.”

“Awe, just a baby,” he teased, giving you a slight elbow to the arm. “So is that part of your mutation, then?” 

“No, actually,” you began, throwing back the rest of your drink before explaining further. “The way my body works is like anyone else’s… I have to have energy and sustenance to survive, all that nonsense…”

He’d been very interested to find out about you, since he’d yet to find anything out about himself. Especially since he’d figured your mutation was the reason for your long life span. 

“But since I’m made up of different kinds of energy, matter, antimatter, and a third substance unknown to science yet, I can draw sustenance from things other than food and rest.”

“Like what?” 

You took your little green glove off one hand, and reached for his forearm, which he was currently leaning on against the bar. You focused on doing what you’d done the night that Rogue had injured him, forcing energy into him instead of taking it. 

“You feel that?” 

His eyes got a bit wider, and he watched your hand, there was just the slightest bit of an iridescent glow around his skin where you touched him. It was vague and unnoticeable if you weren’t really looking, and he was. “Yeah…”

“It’s called energy transference. I absorb energy from everything around me, and I can use it to create things… shields, small detonations, and as I recently found out with you, the ability to restore energy from depletion,” you listed, trying to get to the point, but of course, he didn’t understand how it was all connected. 

“And what, it keeps you from aging?” he asked, like it didn’t make any sense, and to be fair, you didn’t really lead with the cause, so you understood his confusion. 

“Not really, no…” you thought back to the day it all happened, so many years ago and yet you’ll never forget it. “When I absorb energy, it sustains me… but when I turned twenty, I was struck by lightning.”

He let out a low whistle, thinking to himself that it was a wild turn of events in your background that he wasn’t expecting. 

“The professor thinks it caused a power surge in my anatomy. Being able to absorb the strike instead of it killing me, my cells were able to store that energy and prevent me from aging.” 

He understood now, blinking a few times as the process settled into his mind. He wonders what else your powers can do, but doesn’t want to keep pushing you on it. 

“Huh,” he looked to the bar for a minute, eyes going over the spot on his arm that still held just the slightest glow of energy without being easily seen. “I don’t really age all that much either…”

“I heard,” you replied, giving him a once over. He was probably one of the most beautiful men you’d ever come across, and knowing that his aging process was also stunted was nearly a blessing in your eyes. 

“I still do, just real slow,” he explained, running a hand through his hair, the kitty ears becoming more prominent when he did. “Guessing by how little I’ve changed in the last fifteen years, I might be close to your age. Maybe a little younger… I just don’t remember.”

His tone falls into a solemness in the end, and you frown at the change in his energy. He’d been having a good time until now, when he started to think about his past, but there was nothing to find. You again reached out for him, taking his hand like you’d grown accustomed to in the past few days. Touching him would never become dull, or feel any less important. You suspected that years from now you would still feel the same tingly and warm sensation from being able to meet his skin to yours.

“You will,” you promised. Even if it takes you a lifetime, you’ll help him find himself. His past, and who he was. 

-

The next day was Sunday, and it went on like the day before… but one thing was different. Two things, technically. 

One, Logan held your hand whenever there was a long distance of walking to be done. Two, his funny and somewhat playful introductions from the day before had been given a small twist. Instead of just saying, ‘I’m Canadian, she’s not,’ there was an added layer of possession. ‘I’m Canadian, my girl isn’t.’

After last night in the bar, something was different. You couldn’t put your finger on what exactly made him switch up his actions around you, and towards you, but it wasn’t in your direct focus. You were much too busy enjoying the sudden change, and the casualness in which it was implemented. 

You wondered if you should ask him about it, but every time you gained an opportunity to do so, you lost the courage. Maybe he was just doing it because it felt normal to be this way with a traveling companion? Maybe he was just putting up a front for the townspeople, so he didn’t have to try so hard to explain the situation between the two of you. 

He’d been so gentle, so domesticated, it felt like he’d grown fully comfortable with you. You’d been the same with him, squeezing his hand whenever he grabbed yours. 

His touch, his words, and more importantly, the look in his eyes whenever he caught you staring… It all led you to believe there was something lurking, just waiting to be let out. 

When you’d returned to the motel that night, giggling about the state of his hair after a tree branch full of snow collapsed on him, he’d rolled his eyes, giving you a playful shove into your own bed while he mumbled about ‘rinsing the pine needles off’ of himself. 

“I’m gonna go down to the Lobby, I wanna call Ororo,” you said, the wide smile still on your face. 

He nodded, not even waiting for you to leave before he started stripping down his clothes. His jacket first, then his flannel. When he was left in the gray beater he wore beneath it all, he stopped for a moment, throwing a glance over his shoulder at you with a smirk. He knew you’d been watching, and he was too big of a tease to tell you to look away, or to remove himself to the bathroom. 

He turned back around, and pulled the thin fabric over his head, throwing it to his pile by the duffel bag. 

He didn’t need to look at you again to know he would catch you staring. He just went about his business as if you weren’t there. Asshole. 

You almost couldn’t breathe. The only person on this entire planet that can touch you, and you got lucky enough that it was Logan. This man was strongly built, and chiseled as if from marble stone. He wasn’t overly muscular or too big, but just enough that you swore God sent him down from the heavens to roam about the earth as his most glorious creation. The way his back muscles tensed when he reached into his bag for a change of clothes, or the way his abs contracted when he stood back upright, it made your hands fidget. You wanted to stand before him and do the one thing you couldn’t do to anyone else. You wanted to touch his gorgeous, warm toned skin. 

When he was about to head to the bathroom, he finally gave you a glance, his smirk even stronger when he read your expression. 

“You gonna go call her or not?” 

“Right,” you blinked, standing up and rushing around to grab your jacket and gloves. 

You’d rushed down to the lobby as fast as your feet could carry you, the stiff breeze doing nothing to quench your excitement. You loaded two quarters into the payphone in the lobby’s hallway, facing away from the stench of the crappy bathrooms nearby. 

You tapped your leg nervously as you told the operator the correct information and waited for Storm to answer. It wasn’t too late, everyone should still be awake. 

The dial went until the second to last before she picked up. 

“Hello?” Her voice sounded like music to your ears. 

“Ro, it’s me,” you said as gently as you could, having to repress your energy. “I just wanted to check in…”

“Check in? Everything is normal here… what about you, have you found the base yet? How’s Logan?” 

Her rushed questions came out when she realized who she was speaking to. She’d waited days for this call, and honestly, you weren’t one to disappoint. 

“We’ve located it, yeah. We’re hiking out there tomorrow,” you explained, leaving out the part where you took a two day joyride through a small Canadian town with the man you’ve deemed is your favorite Canadian. “And Logan’s good. We’ve been having a great time so far.”

“A great time, huh? So I was right to be afraid that I’d never see you again…” she trailed, only partly joking. In truth, she wants you to be happy, but she also wants you to come home. 

“Oh relax, we’ll be back before you know it.”

You heard a muffled yelling, like she’d covered the phone to reprimand some students, before she was back on the line. 

“Well, tell me everything, what’s Canada like? Is it as bad as you remember?” She teased, figuring by the sound of your voice and the smile she could practically hear coming through the phone, that your opinion had been swayed. 

“Canada itself is fine, but Logan is something else entirely,” you raised a brow, leaning into the phone panel on the wall and twisting the cord in your fingers like a love-struck schoolgirl. “Did you know he was Canadian?”

“I thought he might be, wasn't sure.”

“Well, I take back hating Canada, he’s actually made me like it…” you trailed, fighting yet another wide smile from only thoughts of today. “He’s made me like him… a lot.”

“Baby, it’s only been four days,” she laughed on the other end. You could tell she was debating knocking sense into you, or asking for details. The latter won in the end. “So did he kiss you, or what?” 

“No, he hasn’t kissed me,” you said with a sigh, wishing the statement hadn’t been true. “But he’s been so… different. He holds my hand, he hugs me when I’m cold… he’s been introducing me to everyone we talk to as ‘his girl’.” 

“So what I’m hearing is, I need to be making wedding preparations for when you get back?” She huffed out another laugh, hand on her hip as she leaned into a wall in the mansion. She knew this was going to happen. You got attached to people very easily, but Logan was an entirely different can of worms. He could touch you, he could hold you, and he could be with you in ways no one else would ever be able to. That made him your ideal attachment. If you believed in soulmates, you’d say he was yours. Uniquely created with a mutation that matched your own in the opposite form. 

“See, you think that’s funny,” you laughed along with her through the phone, titling your head and speaking with confidence. “But I’m absolutely gonna marry him someday.”

She rolled her eyes, and you could almost hear it through the phone. “As crazy as you sound, I believe you… but give it more than four days to be sure, yeah?”

“Fine… I’ll give it till the end of the trip,” you taunted. You knew it was crazy to be making these bets now, but you were just so certain that this man would be your endgame. He was the only one who could be… right? 

“That’s all I can ask for from you… Just be safe, and tell him I said hi, okay?” She quickly tried to get off the phone, and you could hear the rowdy children making a ruckus in the background of where she was. 

“I will… tell everyone there that I miss them, and I’ll be back soon.”

“Will do, bye baby…” she rushed out her goodbye before the line went dead. 

You smiled, mumbling a small ‘bye’ under your breath as you hung up the phone and headed back for the room. 

The room was a bit steamy when you first walked in, with the bathroom door having been left open to air out. Logan was reclined in the bed furthest to the wall, nothing but flannel bottoms on while he was kicked back and relaxed. He had one arm behind his head, and his other perched at his side to hold up a book in his hand. Your book… the one you’d finished last night. 

“Hey,” he smiled at you as you walked through the door. “Sorry I didn’t ask, it looks interesting.”

You furrowed your brow with your own surprised smile, shaking your head. “No, it’s okay… I think you’ll like it.”

“So far I do… I promise I’ll be careful with it, I know it’s old,” he defended yet again, even though you would give him that precious copy if it made him happy. 

“It’s fine, what’s mine is yours,” you kept on, laying your coat on the back of a chair for the night. “Besides, you can’t do anymore damage to it that I haven’t already done.”

“I noticed you dogear the pages…” he raised a brow in your direction, as if accusing you of something. 

“I know, it’s terrible…” you trailed, sitting on the edge of his bed and watching him for a moment. He went back to the book, completely engrossed in what was probably still the first chapter. “What part are you on?” 

“Burn ‘em to ashes, then burn the ashes,” he remarked, and you nodded. He seemed to be pretty hooked on only the first few pages. “You were right, y’know? About comparin’ this kinda future to ours. It’s nasty stuff…”

“It only gets worse, keep reading.”

You got up, grabbing your clothes and heading for a shower. He had been considerate enough to save plenty of hot water for you.

-

The weekend was over, and unfortunately it was time to go where this entire journey was meant to lead. Stryker’s base. 

The ride to the bridge was silent, but the second you arrived, Logan turned to you with a look of sincerity. 

“Look, I know that you’re doing this for me,” he began, bringing a hand to your arm in the most gentle way possible. “But if you start feelin’ like you did the other day… I have no problem going in on my own, alright?”

“I’ll be okay, Logan. You’re here with me,” you reminded him, placing your hand over his and giving it a squeeze. “Let’s go…”

He nodded, letting you take the lead, because as was made clear before the trip even began, you were the one who remembered this place, and he was the one trying to regain those memories. 

“When did you come here?” He asked, and it was an innocent question except for the implications.

“I didn't come here, I was taken. I'd just passed the bar exam back in New York, and I was gonna be a lawyer for a while, but Stryker got to me first,” You explained, not taking offense to his wording. You’d known he was a little brash with the things he said, but he could also be gentle and sweet.

“How long were you here?” His voice softened this time.

“About six years, got here near the start of the program, lived to the end of it.”

“And what about me?” He’d begun walking side by wide with you, not straggling behind like before. His curiosity wasn’t the only reason for his questioning, but it was a factor. He mostly just wanted to keep you distracted from looming amongst your own thoughts in silence, getting closer and closer to the base. 

“You came towards the end, but he was planning to have you for years. That mutant I told you about, the one who melted the adamantium? They had her powering the machine long before you even came to the island.”

Your explanation caught him off guard a bit. When he’d asked if you came here, you said you were taken, but now you told him he had come… meaning he made the decision to do it.

“And I… came willingly?” He titled his head with furrowed brows, unsure why anyone would want to come to this place, if it was as bad as you say.

“From what I understand, you did at first. I think you ran away when you knew of Stryker's plans,” You reasoned, not completely remembering everything. Not that you were even apart of those dealings in the first place.

“Did I meet you then?”

You smiled and shook your head. You’d wished you’d been able to catch a glimpse of him the first time, what he’d been like before Stryker tortured him and turned him into a piece of metal.

“No, I never met you the first time. But I could feel you,” you tried your best to describe, nearly failing for how little you could actually say instead of showing him.

He seemed to understand it enough, remembering the way your powers work. He came to a halt beside you, giving you a look and asking the next question. “How did I feel?”

You stopped, too. You looked at his eyes now, and they seemed so full of something you couldn’t explain, but couldn’t look away from, either.

“Sad… Angry.”

“And now?” He asked, a serene expression on his features when he was looking at you.

“You’re still tense, but your emotions are softer, calmer.” You raised a hand to his face, trailing slightly over the facial hair that had slightly grown out the last few days. It suited him, you thought.

After a few moments, you felt a shiver run down your spine from the cold, and snapped out of your daze, continuing on the path ahead, and leading him through an old abandoned tunnel. This tunnel was not full of bad memories, but a rather fond one. The day you had escaped, you followed Scott through this tunnel to meet the Professor on the other side.

He seemed to be taking everything in, noting every intricate detail of the place to try and place it. Nothing sprung from the back of his mind, so he doesn’t know if anything significant enough happened here that he might have a cognitive reset, but he keeps trying, going through each stretch of the base like something might pop up.

You froze still when you got to the edge of the cell block. The cages were just as he’d left them, completely and utterly destroyed by his claws. 

“This is it, huh?” He stood still, too. The weight of the area was easy to feel, and though he didn’t know why, he could almost sense the years of heaviness that was caused here. It was haunting.

“This is it,” you huffed, taking a step forward and treating it like you would any other place you visited. It’s just bricks and concrete and steel, it’s not like it should affect you this way. “The cell on the end is mine, the one three or four down was Scott’s.”

There were motion sensors everywhere. Long since forgotten about, and none were activated, but he could also see the security measures, and some of the poking and prodigy tools they must have used just scattered about. The leftover scenery of a hasty escape, by both the mutants and the inhabitants of this place.

“How did you even survive this?” He asked, the weight settling in on his shoulders even more, pushing him into the floor. 

“Most of us didn't. This entire block had new mutants every year. All except me,” you sighed out, running your fingers over the enclosure that you’d been contained in for so long. It was in the past now, and you stood beside the very testament to your escape. The man who freed you and had given you hope. Nothing bad could happen to you here as long as he was with you, now.

“Because you can't die...” He trailed, a single finger of his looming over the exposed skin of your neck. With him being so close, this little action almost seemed normal, but the cold weather made his hands cold, too, and the feeling of it caused a shiver. You stepped away with a shudder under your breath, but turned around and got close enough again to keep the energy from feeling awkward. No matter how cold his hands were, you still liked when he touched you.

“I wanted to. This was the worst part of my life. I never wanted to come back here.”

“Then why did you?” He crossed his arms, leaning against the cell block and leaning in. He knew the answer, or at least he thought he did. Charles made him clearly aware, not that he didn’t know already. 

“I wanna help you,” you looked down, too scared to meet his eyes and say something else besides what you wanted him to hear. “You saved me from this place, the least I can do is help you remember it.”

He nodded, thinking that maybe he was pushing too hard. Maybe he just needed to focus on himself… but something about this place, it made him feel that strange connection to you again. The one that he didn’t think he felt back at X-Manor. 

He took a few steps towards the frozen doors at the end of the block, likely leading into other parts of the base that were inaccessible. 

“How did it happen?” He turned back, wielding a small smirk.

“What?” you furrowed your brows, unsure of what exactly he meant.

“The rescue, how did it happen? Was I heroic?” He posed jokingly, hands on his hips to draw out a laugh from you, and it worked. Even in this place you were scared of, he could make you feel joy. 

“Yeah, you were…” you closed the distance between you, pushing him into position by the doors to reenact the scene. “It was pretty late at night, the sirens started going off, we all started panicking, we thought we were getting attacked or something. Most of us were weak, and could barely stand. My legs were likely broken and definitely cut apart from the tests they'd been doing… We thought it was the end. And then you came charging down the cellblock with this woman,” you sat back into your cell, feeling no semblance of fear from it now. He ran down to your cell with a cheesy grin, playing along for your amusement. “You both started to set everyone free. But you were the one who tore open my cage, and without thinking, I let you help me up…” you trailed, watching as per your story, he reached in and helped you to your feet just like he had done all those years ago. “That was the first time I touched you.”

You kept your hand in his, the tingling sensation still remaining, even though you’ve probably touched him a hundred times by now. 

“Wow… that uh… doesn’t sound like me…” he looked away from you, his hand pulling back and hanging it at his side. He’d broken the charade to think about how inaccurate this all sounded. Even though you were not a liar, and he could take your word for it, he just couldn’t seem to think of himself how you did. “Guess it's just a lot to take in..”

You’d painted him in such a heroic light, he wasn’t sure that heroic was a word that fit him very well, much less at all. All he knew of himself was a selfish loner, who occasionally did the right thing out of obligation and not duty.

“It is… take your time,” you tried your best to reel in the happiness you’d felt, because even though being here with him made you feel better… he was trying to remember himself, and maybe this wasn’t helping. 

“And the woman I was with, did you know her?” 

You hoped he wouldn’t ask about her, you didn’t want to disappoint him.

“I don't remember. She looked familiar, but I couldn't tell you who she was,” you think you saw her with Stryker a few times, but never by his side, always behind him, following orders. “She died not long after the breakout, the professor found her after he’d come back for the remaining survivors...”

He seemed deep in thought, facing the doors of the cellblock again and clenching his fists… was he remembering something?

“And I was with her, this woman?” the way he said it implied the depth of what he was really asking.

“From what I gathered at the time, yeah… but I wasn't in the best condition, so I could have just made it all up in my head. I definitely remember you, though.”

At this he turned back to face you, coming closer and lifting his lips in the very corners to resemble a not quite smile. It still turned your stomach in the best way.

“I'm just unforgettable, huh?” 

“Completely unforgettable. This is a part of my life that I have worked hard and trained myself to forget, but I remembered you instantly…” you confessed, not daring to look away from him now, when he was so clearly latched onto you. It didn’t matter what you said at this point, you were sure he must have known something of your feelings by now.

“Because I could touch you.”

You shook your head. “It was more than that. I'd never seen anything like you before.”

“Is that a good thing?” He teased, his full smile finally returning once the air felt lighter again.

You thought about that day. He’d come running through like a true action hero, saving everyone in his path. He had been here for something else entirely, you think, but he stopped to save you and the others. He’d been wearing a white beater that night, his shoulders glistening with sweat while his hair bounced with every step he took. It was longer then. The determined look in his eyes was something you also noticed, and the way they softened when he steadied you to your feet, touching your skin as no one had for over two hundred years. Yes, seeing him was a very good thing.

“Oh yeah, trust me.”

-

Having searched for other abandoned entry points of the base, and being unsuccessful, you opted to leave, but it had grown dark out, and there was no way you could hike all the way back to the motorcycle before the cold winds set in. It was too dark to even navigate the grounds, anyways. 

It was decided that you could set up a makeshift camp within the escape tunnel, as it was just slightly warmer than the outside. 

Logan didn’t talk much after leaving the base. He’d been all fun and games until he realized you both had finally made it to the place with the answers, but there were none. He didn’t take his frustrations out on you, but he didn’t exactly ignore them, either. In fact, he took to ignoring you instead. You tried striking up a conversation with him, and found he was in too sour a mood, and every comment you made about little things, like the sleeping bag in your backpack, or the water flask kept in his, he seemed to just grunt out a response to get back to the quiet. 

It wasn’t until the dead cold of the night that you’d been shivering your ass off, that you even dared to speak to him again. 

“This storm's getting worse… I'm gonna freeze to death.” 

He rolled over from his sleeping bag on the ground, a slanted brow on his face and a huff when he saw that you were truly cold. He was not in a good mood, and he didn’t want to deal with more bad situations.

“I thought you couldn’t die…” he grumbled, leaning up on one arm. You were curled up into a ball, all your layers on your body and the sleeping bag, but the snow was falling hard and fast outside, probably sealing you both into this icy tunnel. 

“I can't be killed. I can still technically die,” you explained, furthering the lore on your powers. He mentally added it to the list. Almost immortal, but not really so much in snowstorms.

“Then why are you still alive?” He mumbled sarcastically, trying not to be an asshole to the only person he was dependent on the past few days. 

“Because I'm careful.”

You sat up, and in the dim light he could see how pale you’d gotten, your lips a shade of cold purple instead of the soft pink they normally held.

“Aren't you made of energy? Just warm yourself up…” He suggested, as if you hadn’t thought of that. It wasn’t even in your ability wheel.

“I'm made of matter and antimatter, I don't radiate heat,” you argued, trying to maintain a sense of calm while being cold enough to power a refrigerator. 

“Fine, you know what? I'm not walking you back to the bike, just get over here,” he let out, holding open the sleeping bag for you to scoot into. You’d done so as quickly as possible, letting him drop his arm back over you in an instant. Already you could feel the fiery feeling he gave off into the air. 

“How are you so warm?”

“I don't know,” he shook his head, closing his eyes and trying to go to sleep. He wanted to be up with the sun tomorrow, so he could get back to the motel and get some quality rest.

“You don’t know why you feel like a toaster?” You joked with a sweet smile, but were quickly reminded he wasn’t in the mood.

“Do you ever stop talking?” 

“Sorry.”

In truth, he did feel bad about treating you like that. You’d done so much for him, and all he’d done was snap at you when he realized the answers he was looking for were still locked up. He pulled you tighter in his arms, holding you close as if uttering a physical apology. I’m sorry for being a dick, but thank you for being so kind to me anyways.

-

Having found warmth in you, and another feeling that cannot be described outside of perhaps the simple word: safety, Logan slept better than he had in weeks, months, even. Hell, he doesn’t know if he’s ever slept like this, waking up naturally, well rested and without a nightmare in sight. 

It was late in the afternoon, and he woke up feeling a sense of peace that he didn’t go to bed with. He’d been settled. His anger and annoyance about the failed objective made his skin crawl when the snow had been pouring down, the storm covering the ground with several inches of a white, fluffy covering. 

Knowing it had been very late in the night when you finally were able to sleep, he didn’t want to wake you, but being wrapped around you like a cocoon while you slept would make it very hard to even sit up without causing you to stir. 

He figured he could wake you up, now, take you back to the motel so you could finish resting while he took a walk, or visited the bar. It had approached his mind the night before, that he would probably go and get wasted at the establishment to try and fill the void that had been left empty by the lack of answers. 

Slowly, he unraveled the twisted limbs and sleeping bags, hearing your soft grumbling of discomfort when you came to. You weren’t fully awake, and your arms grabbed at him, trying to pull him back in subconsciously while your moaning and groaning persisted. He let out a small chuckle at the actions, like that of a child grabbing for the security of its mother. 

“Rise and shine, princess,” He joked, trying to maneuver himself away. 

You finally remembered where you were, and realized that Logan was the source of warmth that had been keeping you so still and secure. 

“Hey,” you let out with a furrowed brow, wiping over your eyes to try and dull the ache of opening them too soon. “What time is it?” 

“Not sure, it might be noon,” he guessed, standing on his feet and beginning to collect everything that was still scattered about on the ground of the tunnel. 

You were silent for a minute, nodding your head and beginning to become more coherent with every minute passed. You soon joined him on collecting things that needed packing away, but did so with a sentiment passed along. 

“I’m sorry we didn’t find anything here,” you murmured quietly. 

He almost had to do a double take… Why were you apologizing? You’d done him a great service by coming here to try and help him, no matter the results. 

“S’not your fault,” he furrowed his brow in response. “I’m sorry for treating you like shit last night. Just because I’m mad doesn’t mean I have to take it out on you.”

“Don’t be sorry. If I was in your place I’d be angry, too.”

The way you looked at him was astonishing. Like he’d hung every star in the sky. You looked at him and he felt like no matter the atrocities he knows he’s capable of, and the memories he can’t reach, he could do no wrong. Nothing he ever did was bad in your eyes. It was an empowering feeling, but also a curious one. You are far greater of a person than he is, and he knows it… so why do you look at him like this?

The answer is simple, you’re in love with him. He’s the first person you can touch, which is a huge factor, but aside from that, he is kind to you, and genuinely, not just because he has to be.

He remembers what Charles told him before he left. Ask her about a man named Charlie…

“I uh…” he trailed, watching you where you sat, packing away your water flask and flashlight. “I had a talk with the professor before we left a few days ago.”

“About what?” 

“About you, mostly. He told me I was in safe hands,” among other things, but he wouldn’t mention that. “And he told me that when you were ready I could ask you about a man…”

“A man?” You raised your brows in surprise. You weren’t sure if you knew what you were supposed to tell him. 

“Yeah, a man… his name was Charlie?” 

He could see it, the instant the name left his lips. Your face fell and your brain had to work overtime to try and return it to something neutral, and less traumatized. Your silence made him think that maybe he crossed a line. If you hadn’t been ready to talk about this man, then he’d just made a huge mistake. He doesn’t know who this fellow is, but he clearly did something to you. 

“Are you alright?” Logan knelt down, interrupting your blank stare. He could see the memories flashing behind your eyes, the thoughts winding up in your head.

“Yes,” you shook out of it, but your smile didn’t come back. “I’ve been around people that know about him for a long time, I didn’t think I’d ever have to retell the story.”

“You don’t have to,” he shook his head, a hand raising to your arm to try and bring comfort. “I assume it’s a sad story?”

“The worst one I know…” you trailed, finally giving a small quirk of your lip in a smile. Looking at Logan for too long made it impossible to scowl forever. “It’s been a hundred and thirty some years just about.”

He whistled long and low, sitting down across from you to fully pay attention. 

“I started working in a farm house in Virginia in the Eighteen Sixties. I kept to myself as best I could, making beds, doing laundry, washing dishes. Best paying job I’d ever had so I stayed as long as I could…” you trailed, taking a deep breath to introduce the main character of this story. “There was a stable boy there, worked the farm for the family for years before he got promoted to caring for the horses. I hadn’t met him until about two months of being there.”

“He’s Charlie?” Logan lifted a brow inquisitively, fully engrossed in the history you were sharing. You nodded your head to confirm. 

“He’s Charlie. He was only nineteen years old…  he was the only person that I’d barely ever talked to that grew fond of me. I didn’t even have to do anything,” you joked, dipping your head and remembering the way it all went back then. “He used to volunteer to help me hang laundry just so we could talk.”

“Classy guy,” Logan teased, watching your face light up with the way you were recalling everything.

“He was, and so gentlemanly… The day he found out about me being what I am, it was a complete accident. Long story short, I killed a chicken. He took the blame for it, and at the end of the day, the family ate it for dinner.”

“He knew about you?” 

“Mhm,” you nodded, another smile spreading. “He didn’t care. He’d never touched me before, and knowing that he never could… he still didn’t care.”

You sighed, the bliss of the memory fading from view when the next part resurfaced. 

“I fell in love with him, and eventually he asked me to marry him. Obviously, I said yes,” you paused for a moment, heaving a sigh as tears backed your eyes. “The day we left for town to get married, there was an accident… Some drunk men with a gun were messing around like assholes, and one thing led to another. They started firing off rounds in our direction, and I knew I could block the bullets, but I hadn’t told Charlie that. He tried to save me, tried to pull me out of the way…”

You couldn’t even finish the sentence, but Logan already knew. 

“You touched him…” he filled in the blank, watching you blink away the tears that started to fall. Your silent and weak nod was heartbreaking, and in under two seconds flat, Logan had his arms wrapped around you, pulling you close to him to feel comforted. He was the only one who could do this, and after hearing your story of a lost love, he knew how much it meant. 

He is grateful to you and owes you a lot. Being your shoulder to cry on is the least he can do in a situation like this, where you seemed like you just needed someone to hold onto. 

“It’s been a long time,” you mumbled, sniffing to try and block more tears from falling. Being in Logan’s embrace made it better. “I thought he was the love of my life… but I’ve lived so much of my life now without him.”

“I’m sorry,” he ran a hand over your hair, tucking your head under his chin. 

“I just wish he'd been something like you…” 

“Something like me?” He asked, unsure of what you could mean. The way you described him, he seemed perfect. A gentleman, a protector, someone who loved you so much that he was willing to go through life without the most basic of relationship necessities. He didn’t feel like he could compare.

“Immune to my mutation.”

Your clarification made him understand, and maybe he shouldn’t have uttered his next words, but he did, fully knowing the answer.

“I’m guessing no one else has been,” he let out, beginning to loosen his hold on you. 

You’d backed away and looked him in the eyes with your teary, puffy red ones. 

“So far, only you.”

“I’m sorry, that sounds lonely.” His embrace didn’t leave, but he dropped your gaze for a moment to try and think about what that must be like. To not only be without that kind of comfort, but to constantly have to avoid it at all costs. 

“S’not so bad anymore. You’re pretty decent company, and you don’t seem to hate being around me... I’d say I lucked out.” You leaned back into his arms, laying your head on his shoulder this time as you took a deep inhale. The scent of him was intoxicating, and the way he was constantly warm felt like an invitation in itself. 

He didn’t move you, or make you go anywhere. He knew that if he’d been stuck here for days that it would have to be endured for your sake. After hearing of the tragedy in your past, he felt you deserved to sit here in silence, safely and securely wrapped in his strong arms.

-

Tags: @ayamenimthiriel l @levislegislation @reidsworld @melsunshine @clairealeehelsing @fries11 @burkayyy @d3ad2you @insanesosciopath @scream4mami @marifilue

[mysticcrownwolf]

So your girl finally had a autistic meltdown and finally asked her mum about her childhood and got some mixed results but long story short I am finally getting an official autism and adhd diagnosis because in my mums words “Everyone deserves things that make their life easier to live”. Not gonna lie guys I did cried about this but it also came up that they did tried to get me diagnosed before (I don’t remember this at all) but were told I just had very high levels of hyperactivity so to make sure this type of bullshit doesn’t happen again I am making a list of all my weird or quirky traits and having the neurodivergents of Tumblr peer review them so I can finally get a diagnosis after 19 years of struggling.

1) I didn’t ever in my life made or had friends that stick around.

2) I was actually alienated a lot by most people in my life for being the umbrella term they all coined as ‘weird’ what this weird means varies from person to person.

3) I have actually been told by other girls that they gave me a chance to keep them company even after many people told them I was too weird and they should stay away from me. These same people later called me slurs, were self absorbed or just plain abusive towards me.

4) Through out my whole life I have sat alone on a double bench because no one wanted to sit with me in class.

5) I have a problem with properly spelling certain words like I write weird as ‘wierd’ or video as ‘vedio’.

6) People constantly doubt I have any sense of knowledge and act like any good idea I give is a surprise even when I was on the top of the class the phrases like “ That’s the first good idea you ever had” weren’t uncommon.

7) I walk a lot and I mean a lot enough that hyperactivity has still been a part of my diagnostic because I walked so much they had no choice but to put that in. I actually come to the school 30 minutes early then walked the whole time, I would just up and leave classes to walk in corridors because I couldn’t sit still long enough, my walking is such a huge part of me my old teachers still tell their classes about me as the girl that walked too much.

8) People in my college nicknamed me the headphone girl because I walked around our whole campus( I would pace a lot around the parameters) with my only noticeable feature being my headphones.

9) I was the only kid in my school not scared of bugs which lead to some notable incidents

I once picked a small green caterpillar and showed it off to my class of 10 year olds they started crying and teacher made me throw the bug even though I wanted to keep it as a pet

Our teacher once asked us to bring butterflies to class so I captured around 30 butterflies put them in a breathable Tupperware and took those to class me being the only person who did this freaked out all the other children with my butterflies , we later released them all in recess it was very pretty

I not only volunteered but gleefully presented live earthworms on my palm to various groups of parents in our school science fare much to the horrified looks of many parents and children about how a little girl like me wasn’t screaming from handling earthworms.

I scared our class mean girl by capturing a butterfly and then turning my hand holding the butterfly in her direction she and a few other girls screamed when I tried to tell them that the little critter was harmless and even offered to let them hold her (I was very confused why they didn’t like this).

10) I was friends with a lot of my teachers as well as higher class teachers especially the Science, Social studies and English teachers. I would often spend my recess in the biology lab chatting with the biology teacher about the different specimens in the lab and how much I enjoyed biology in general. I am half sure I would have loved to study biology/medicine if not for the fact it was a minimum investment of 7 years though I am still an avid reader of new biological discoveries and follow many niche youtube channels that focus on flora and fauna.

11) I was actually friends with all 3 principles in my school and would go to them after my last class to chat about my school day. This was so bizarre to others but I actually enjoyed how much these adults would listen to my info dump even if my own peers won’t.

12) Every single time my report card came I would usually top the class in most subjects except maths in which I usually underperformed ( don’t worry guys I figured out later I just need to know every basic concept to get the deep understanding of mathematical principles which my teachers were very bad at build but I later learned how to do it myself) but it would always have in big bold letters that “I talked to much and have weird questions and am disruptive in class ” which my bad I thought I could get details about what your are teaching and develop great interest but nah we just need to complete the syllabus as fast as we can. Salt on the wound I would only ask questions and discuss topics in class with the teacher since I don’t have friends I could talk to in class. They deadass never ever punished a single student from disrupting in class except me the girl who asked silly questions about what we were studying maybe they thought my questions were weird so I was asking them to disrupt they flow of the class rather than genuine curiosity who knows

13) I had very bad anger issues stemming from how the system as well as authority figures treated me ( I have since been to therapy and gotten help for it ) but a lot of time I verbally and physically attacked an authority figures usually when they punished me for something I didn’t do or when they tried to empty out their frustration on me or tried to bully me in anyway. I never took bullying face down from anybody be it younger or older than me my flight or fight response was always on fight

14) People did tried to bully me physically or verbally but I always returned it in kind with interest so it never really stuck like the isolation did. My most memorable experience with bullying was when I bitch slapped our school mean girl so hard the whole ground heard it , I don’t think I ever got any punishment for it and she later burned every friendship she had by throwing her whole group under the bus for some vandalism they did.

15) I unfortunately never had friends so when they school told me telling an authority figure I am being teased, harassed or even that someone is breaking the rules is what’s morally right I ran with the rules set for me rather than knowing the social norms that this would mark me as the school snitch without the teachers ever doing anything about the issues. Unfortunately I learned the hard way through trial and error that once you are labelled as a snitch their is nothing you can do to get that tag off and it comes with the added benefit of making people never talk to each other near me or even just leave the places I visit alone so yay more loneliness for me

16) I actively volunteered for every single activity and program my school office this sounds great but I picked and got selected for all 7 different fairs (English, Hindi, Maths, Science, Social science, Music, Art) but rather than pick out one or two I helped out with all 7 of them. They later added a 3 groups per person limit.

17) I am actually trained in both classical instrumental and singing but couldn’t complete my singing degree before the program closed down and it’s been 6 years since I played a Casio that I don’t think that even matters anymore. Anyway I added this because at first I did both of these at the same time along with volunteering for all the other activities before they added a 1 course per year limit which is a shame since it cost me my vocal degree.

18) I love reading that just the fact I found reading in my school library when I was 8 haven’t let it go since by my librarian’s estimate I read almost 3000 books (mostly children books) from my school library. I also have a mini collection of about 300 books that I have passed down to both of siblings. These days I read mostly on ao3 or the occasional paperback I bought at the airport but reading is still something I do almost daily.

19) See one thing about me is I was one of the first student at my school so much so my identification number was 35 so me being such an old student my school has actually legends about my quirky ( neurodivergent ) behaviour which has made me understand where most legends actually come from

I walked out of classes so many times teachers to this day still tell stories of the weird girl that likes to walk

My whole school knew who I was mostly because I would be the first and only person that likes to answer philosophical questions asked by our principal in the assembly, I was also great with improvising assembly conductions, thought of the days, assembly quizzes, full speeches on topics told to me 2 minutes ago, even improvised song recitations (can you guys pick up I have social anxiety now).

As I told you my lovelies I love reading so if I was immersed in a book and the class started I would just hide the book to read in class once I got caught so I got termed the girl who like to read books in class( is it stupid yes did it still happened certainly). I later learned to zone out to the stories in my mind during class which was very helpful.

As I told you guys I was actually on pretty friendly terms with my principal and teachers so guess who became the teachers pet for the next 8 years even though most teachers care jack shit about my interest and was further alienated because of this me ofcourse.

I actually once locked myself in the school bathroom for like 4 hours because I hadn’t completed the homework a teacher had given me and she was quite physically abusive towards me. I got suspended for a week because of this funnily enough nobody in my school actually remember this and most are really surprised to know I was suspended.

I am actually really famous or infamous by the way you look at it for physically assaulting a teacher funnily enough the name of the teacher, why I am attacked them and even how I hit them changes from person to person I have actually heard 10-15 different variations from different people( I am not even sure if I actually ever hit a teacher most I remember is I lunged at one teacher but she stepped back so I didn’t even touch her).

20) I was depressed from age 14 to 17 which caused me to chronic pain which later caused me to meet my current psychologist who helped me a lot but is vehemently against me getting any sort of neurodivergent diagnosis most she say is I have borderline adhd tendencies and that I think to much and should focus on calming down my mind which honestly is quite invalidating.

21) I can’t wear any sort of itchy or frilly materials when I was younger ( the texture was soo bad) but my sister could which made my mother think I was being a drama queen.

22) When I was younger I use toilet paper after using a bidet because the feeling of wet pants would over stem me so bad it’s not a problem for me anymore except from sometimes during winters.

23) I didn’t know Chewelry existed when I was younger so I chewed on my nails/skin,my lips, squishy parts of remotes, plastic toys, legos, scarfs, hoody strings, hot glue gun glue, chalk, cement, sand, mud etc. (Yes I know about the microplastics now no I don’t care).

24) I am highly sensitive to sounds so if my fan have a weird creak sound I won’t be able too sleep I also can’t sleep if I hear a clock ticking or any other repetitive sounds ( my mum still doesn’t understand why I can’t just force myself to sleep).

25) I also can’t sleep in continuous silence I need background noise to fall asleep.

26) It took me a whole year of forcing myself to wear bra and panties for my body to finally get used to me wearing them. It was a stimulation nightmare but I think it was worth it I enjoy wearing bras and panties now.

27) I can’t eat apples like I physically cringe even thinking of the sensation of biting into an apple. I have tried cutting an apple into every single why I could I still can’t swallow or even properly chew an apple the texture is such a sensory nightmare for me. Cabbage used to be the same for me but though constant reintroduction I can usually for myself to eat it with a glass of water

28) I have had many foods be absolutely sensory nightmare for me throughout my childhood. I was a very picky eater think bread, soup, lentils and noodles(packet noodles without vegetables). I couldn’t eat any kinds of fruits(except banana), vegetables, pizza , burgers (still don’t eat this), dumplings, wraps, pasta,etc. Heck I was a vegetarian for majority of my life before I learned chicken is actually a great textured food for me though I still don’t eat any form of red meat or sea foods and my food list is still very limited I have constantly reintroduced many foods for myself over the years which I can now usually bear to eat. I also learned that I can usually consume fruit and vegetables better if they are liquids so fruits juices, smoothies and soups were also great help.

29) I was and still am an absolutely clean freak and organiser. Like my bag use to have books organised in this specific order English, Hindi, Maths, Science and then Social studies and it needs to been in this order or I would get anxious. Fortunately no one else in my house ever wanted to organise anything so I would organise everything with way I would want it to be while also being neat.

30) One of my biggest sources of stress came from how dirty my siblings made our room. I would deep clean everything and then organise our books , toys and clothes and then clean and organise our bed they would just bulldozers through and ruin all my hard work in a day or two. Unfortunately I had this sense of cleanliness and order since I was a child and my siblings who were even younger then me weren’t slobs(ok maybe my brother was but anyway) they just weren’t wired to like cleanliness and order like I did and being children anything I told them about how we can keep our room clean went over their heads because I was always their to do it for them.

31) I actually had many special interests growing up though I didn’t have trains as an interest except for the cool toy train set I got as a gift or the maglev trains who are objectively very cool. My biggest special interest were rocks, space and animals especially all the books Nat geography and scholastic puts out on animals. I actually had a rock collection mostly made up of sedimentary rock and a piece of lime stone which my mother later kept in the shed where it got lost during home construction. I also have a modest collection of books and another collection of small childhood trinkets that I still have (I recently bought a clay bird that mimics actual bird call when filled with a little water to add to my collection).

32) I forget I need to eat and drink it’s always been like this I don’t have that internal clock that says you are thirsty go drink water or you are hungry go eat food . I need to remind myself it’s been 12 hrs I probably need water it’s been 32 hrs you should probably get some food or at least have a protein shake it’s like my body has no sense of hunger or thirst but I am getting better at eating and drinking at least the drinking water part anyway.

33) I am tired it’s not recent but in the last few years since I became an adult I feel so tired I use to be the topper of my class the gifted children that participated in everything now I am in college and just getting an 80% feels draining everyone has so much hope for me that I could and should do better but I am just tired. I walk and trekk sometimes but I don’t participate in any events and I see others I see my roommate who participates in like 5 different events and still gets a 95% if she can do it why can’t I. I use to be able to do so much and now I don’t have the drive to do much of anything anymore it’s so painful to realise that I should do better but what does better looks like for someone who is as tired as I am.

I did took some online test as well just to see if I even had a chance and the results were mostly the same I have many Adhd/Autistic tendencies and should probably get a professional diagnosis. I would be very thankful if my fellow autistic and adhd people would help me add more targeted experiences so I can finally get a diagnosis

@my-autism-adhd-blog you inspired me write all of this down and it would be very helpful if you could guide me to get a better diagnosis because of your experience. Also I greatly enjoy the contents of your blog so thank you for that

[umemiyan]

𝗬𝗨𝗨𝗧𝗔 𝗢𝗞𝗞𝗢𝗧𝗦𝗨 𝗫 𝗙!𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗘𝗥. ⌇ 18+ only, mdni / incest but could be read as stepcest / sort of a non-curse au i guess / mentions of underage masturbation / jealousy / a little bit of codependency / voyeurism / reader goes through a breakup / some hurt/comfort / unprotected piv sex / creampie / 2.6k words

little brother!yuuta who has always held you in the highest regard. you have more or less been the center of his universe for as long as he can remember, because nobody has ever been quite as radiant and captivating as his older sister. where he would hear of the complicated dynamics between other people and their siblings, he could only ever think of positive things to say about his relationship with you. he simply couldn’t relate to those who didn’t adore their siblings, and maybe some would find it a bit odd, but it was of little concern to him.

little brother!yuuta who has been the #1 admirer of your beauty from the very beginning. he would find himself in awe of you at any given time, really, but especially when you happened to get dressed up for whatever reason. you would barely be old enough for your body to properly fill out an outfit, but he’d still look at you with sparkling eyes and a small awestruck gasp.

“wow, nee-chan… you look beautiful! where are you going?” he’d ask, always wishing he could tag along.

you would chuckle at his adoration, your sweet brother always being your greatest supporter. “i’m just going to my friend’s birthday party. i’ll be back in time for bed, i promise!"

little brother!yuuta who is so very used to the ritual you’ve always had at bedtime. your special little goodnight phrase that you say to each other before going to sleep is simply a must each and every day. it feels too wrong not to do it, so even if you’re away from each other at night you always find a way to make it work to the best of your abilities, whether it be a quick few second phone call or a text that would never go unread.

little brother!yuuta who always had a bad habit of crawling into bed with you as a small child. the frequency of it eventually dwindled down, but even when he got into his teens, he still found himself slipping under the covers with you from time to time for some comfort. sometimes it was the only way he could manage to get a few hours of sleep—other times he simply laid there awake, finding comfort in your presence alone. but there were also times when he would lay in his own bed, aching with the need to feel you close but too afraid to get near you lest you possibly become irritated with him for being so needy.

little brother!yuuta who, sometimes, after he became old enough, would find himself waking up feeling hot and sticky with an ache between his legs as you held each other in your sleep. his thoughts would flash back to the dream he had just been having before, and he would panic and scramble to back away from you before you got the chance to wake up and notice his hard, leaking cock or the wet mess he’d made in his pants.

he’d carefully distance himself from you even more and squeeze his eyes shut to try and will away the need, or softly climb out of bed to go finish himself off when he couldn’t take it anymore, or clean up the mess he’d already made in his sleep. yuuta would try so hard not to think of you while jerking his cock, but flashes of your face still crept up into his very conflicted mind.

little brother!yuuta who found that something always struck him whenever you would decide to go on a date with a boy, or when someone had asked you out to a special event at school. he would watch with a smile as you walked out the door or stood taking photos, but there was always a sense of fear that crept up inside. he wanted be happy for you… but were you going to abandon him? would you let someone else hold your hand or sleep in your bed? these were such selfish thoughts and he felt absolutely horrible for having them, but he could never make them fully go away no matter how hard he tried.

little brother!yuuta who, one night not long before you moved away from home, tried to sneak into your room for the first time in a while to fall asleep next to you. but before he could gently open the door, he heard soft sounds coming from behind it, and he realized that you had someone over while everyone was (supposed to be) asleep. he pressed his ear to the door to get a better listen, and then gulped as his heart sank in his chest at the quiet but unmistakable noises. despite the shock and devastation, there was a sensation of heat pooling in his belly, and he lingered a little bit longer than he should have.

little brother!yuuta who goes back to his room and can’t go to sleep without first emptying his balls to the thought of what you must look like while being fucked. and after that night, he’s been fighting with himself ever since.

little brother!yuuta who, years later, does everything he can to not think of you when he’s getting himself off, but he sometimes becomes desperate enough for relief from the frustration that he’ll imagine your beautiful face and body and paint his own stomach with hot cum almost instantly. he’ll lay there with both guilt and satisfaction as the seed pools in his bellybutton and starts drying where it splattered all the way up to his chest, the load so heavy and thick from all the time that had passed since he’d last done this.

little brother!yuuta who holds himself back from masturbating for as long as he can because you inevitably pop into his brain every single time. and pathetically enough, he almost can’t cum unless he thinks of you.

little brother!yuuta who felt disgusted with himself the first time he had sex with a girl because the image of you was lingering in the back of his mind the entire time.

little brother!yuuta who convinced you to let him stay with you sometimes after you moved out and eventually started living with your boyfriend. although he couldn’t sneak himself into your bed like he used to, he would happily sleep on the couch knowing that you weren’t very far away. truthfully, living apart from you had been absolute hell.

little brother!yuuta who would recreate the same scenario from years ago, standing outside your bedroom door and listening closely to what you sounded like when your boyfriend fucked you. although it made his heart ache for reasons he tried not to think about, he couldn’t help but commit every noise to memory while he stood there shamefully, brows furrowed and cock rapidly hardening.

little brother!yuuta who has offered nothing but smiles and encouragement to you all these years even while he ached and suffered on the inside. watching you live your life without him around every day, doting on a lover and giving them the affection that used to be his… it’s almost unbearable. it has impacted him far more than he’s ever been willing to show, but his only option thus far has been to simply grin and bear it, even when it felt like he might crumble to pieces.

little brother!yuuta who is the first one there for you after a fairly nasty breakup with your boyfriend, and who moves in with you to help out with the rent now that your partner is gone. at least, that’s what he tells himself; in reality, he couldn’t be more thrilled to live with you again and to bid your burden of an ex a long-awaited goodbye.

little brother!yuuta who does his best to be the greatest roommate you’ve ever had, willing to do every chore in the universe simply because he’s so elated to be here with you. and his instinct is to latch onto you, to have endless movie nights and spend every waking moment with his big sister, but he holds himself back because he doesn’t want to come off as too much, to push you away after he just managed to get you back. however, after dealing with your breakup, you seem to be more than happy to spend a bit of extra time with him, and this makes his heart feel full.

little brother!yuuta who cheers you up with his now genuine smiles and laughter, not having felt this wonderful in a very long time. it’s almost too good to be true, but he savors every minute of it—every minute spent snuggled up on the couch or goofing off while making dinner together. he never wants it to come to an end.

little brother!yuuta who hears you crying one night and simply can’t resist the urge to softly pad into your bedroom and slip under the covers, wrapping his arms around you from behind and breathing in your familiar scent. you don’t remember him being so big, but you suppose that’s what happens after being apart for so long.

not a word is spoken between you two; yuuta just holds you like his most prized possession and lets you weep in the darkness until the sorrow leaves your body. it subsides quicker than usual because you feel less lonely now with him cradling you like this, and you realize you haven’t felt so comforted since the last time he’d managed to weasel himself into your bed far too long ago. you’d never said it out loud, but he’d comforted you just as much as you did him whenever he would feel the need to seek you out in his younger days.

little brother!yuuta who isn’t expecting you to turn around and face him, to look into his eyes even in the darkness so that you may have some sort of realization. perhaps it’s the lingering residuals of loneliness and heartbreak, but regardless, you feel compelled to wrap your own arms around his waist and nuzzle into his chest for warmth. he’s all grown up but still so soft and sweet as he always has been, giving you more love and adoration than anybody ever has. you feel terribly guilty for having taken it for granted at times.

but now he’s here in your arms again, still giving you everything even when he doesn’t have to.

little brother!yuuta whose breath hitches when he feels your mouth on his collarbone, slowly trailing kisses up to his neck and setting his skin on fire as you go. he’s suddenly convinced that he’s dreaming, yet another one of his sinful fantasies being dredged up from the darkest corners of his mind and playing in his sleep. but he blinks and you’re still there, still pressing soft and somehow chaste kisses against his open throat until he’s struggling to breathe.

little brother!yuuta who freezes in place, tears welling up in his big blue eyes at what he’s about to ask next, the guilt and embarrassment nearly causing him to malfunction.

“nee-chan…?” he finally manages to squeak out, blood rushing to his cock as you breathe against him.

“hmm?” you hum, nuzzling his neck with your nose.

he gulps, hips rolling forward against you just the slightest bit, his control over his body weakening now that you’re so close. “c-can i please…please have you?” his voice trembles and now he’s the one crying, a single tear slipping down his cheek as he stares off into the distance and hopes this isn’t the end of it all.

thankfully, you kiss him and show him that it isn’t.

little brother!yuuta who melts into your lips faster than he can process what’s happening, the taste of your tongue instantaneously sending him into another dimension. your mouth is so sweet and warm against his own that he can’t stop himself from being absolutely blissed out within seconds.

little brother!yuuta who feels as though he’s finally found his purpose in life when he has you underneath him and soaking the tip of his cock as it brushes through your folds. it’s already everything that he’s ever imagined and more, and he hasn’t even been inside you yet.

little brother!yuuta who practically sighs with relief as he slides into you for the first time, nice and slow. it’s as if the biggest weight has been lifted off his shoulders and he’s finally come home, his heart and mind now able to rest easy after years of torment.

he doesn’t even move once he’s hilted inside you, taking several moments to bury his face in your neck and just feel the way you engulf him in warmth in every single way.

little brother!yuuta who knows he needs to feel as close to you as he possibly can. it’s not enough to simply take care of one another, sharing smiles and laughter and keeping each other company like average siblings; no… he needs much more than that. he wants to consume you like you do him (even if you don’t necessarily mean it). he needs to inhabit every part of you, feel you from the inside, and pour this overwhelming amount of love out in the best way he can possibly think of.

and even that doesn’t feel like quite enough. there’s still something scratching in his skull that tells him to truly make you his, to stake his claim, and he wants you to do the very same.

little brother!yuuta whose once still hips are now restless and begging for motion, who starts out slow but is already drooling over how your cunt squeezes him so perfectly. it isn’t long before he’s practically drilling into you, fucking every emotion out of his poor body and straight into yours, to ultimately make you both ‘one.’ he doesn’t mean to be rough for the sake of it, he just loves you so much that it almost hurts, makes his body ache in ways that only this will alleviate after so many years of holding it all back.

little brother!yuuta whose wet eyes never leave your face and who could cum any second but stops himself from doing so if only to make you see pleasure first. his body pleads for release, but he would rather be left somewhere to rot than give in without first making you see stars, showing you how much he really loves you. and when he finally finds that spot and presses into it over and over again with his desperate, eager pace, you’re squeezing and shaking around him and making him sob into his own orgasm until it eventually starts to spill out of you in earnest.

little brother!yuuta who afterwards still isn’t fully convinced that this is reality, and who would do anything to cling onto this feeling for all of eternity. he’ll endure anything life throws at him, will let you do anything you want to him as long as he’s allowed to indulge in you. his big sister can dig her nails into his flesh, bite and suck his skin until she can taste blood, deny him of every pleasure, if that’s what she truly desires. he hopes you’ll love with the same grace you always have, but even if you don’t, he’ll sit and take whatever you give him with silent pride and gratitude, because you’re his beautiful onee-chan, his guardian angel in a world full of darkness. and he wants absolutely everything from you.

[callmelola111]

guilty conscience ☆ part one

⭑ part 2 , part 3 , part 4 , part 5 →

synopsis: it’s your first year at college and you’re 1,500 miles away from home. you’d feel completely alone if it wasn't for your attractive roommate ellie. will this attraction complicate the already uncharted territory? or will she be the answer to all your problems?

      |✯| pairing & wc: college!ellie williams x roommate!reader. wc: 1.4k

      |✯| cw (by part): 18+ themes (MDNI), fem reader, modern au!ellie, feelings of angst, sexual themes on like the verge of smut, some swearing

a/n: hey lovelies!!!! this my first time posting a fic so plz enjoy. feedback is appreciated as long as it is constructive. im new to all of this, and still learning. i plan on making this into a series so expect more coming soon. sorry if this chapter is very reader-centric. once reader gets to know ellie better, i’ll write more about her perspective. this will be a slow burn despite part 1 already having sexual themes (lol sorry, couldn't help it), but do expect eventual real smut <3 <3 (p.s: lets b mutuals, message me!!)

As you packed the last of your belongings into your parents' 2008 Toyota, excitement was the last thing you were feeling. When speaking about college, most people explained this coming of age experience with phrases like “change”, “hard work”, and “no sleep”. These pessimistic descriptions made the big move that much harder. Unlike your friends from high school, you were crossing multiple states to attend your dream school. You would’ve been stuck in your home state too if it wasn’t for your impressive art portfolio which earned you a full-ride. Art school is where you know you’re meant to be, but the anxiety of doing it alone lingered.

Of course you were happy to be escaping the grapples of your small Republican town, but you couldn’t help but wonder if 1,500+ miles would really be the solution to all your problems.

                                          ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★

“God where is she??” you grunt to yourself. The brown swivel chair provided as dorm furniture was your only source of entertainment. You spun around in circles, checking your phone every few minutes. You were anticipating a text from Ellie Williams. Through the cracked screen your phone read 11:03pm and the notification wall was empty.

Ellie is supposed to be your roommate. The two of you had met through the university's online roommate matching system. Your interactions were limited to the few texts sent back and forth about move-in times and who’s bringing what. Ellie was supposed to show up 5 hours ago to move in her stuff but she never arrived. You consider messaging her to check-in but Ellie’s previous texts wreaked of un-interest so you thought it best to leave her alone. You knew nothing about the girl, or even what she looked like, but with her stand-offish demeanor and your overthinking, a friendship didn’t seem in the cards.

Another half-hour passes before the sound of keys rattling pulls you out of your trance. Realizing you’re about to be face-to-face with your new college roommate, you snap up from your slouched position and push your hair behind your ears in preparation.

The slender door lazily swings open and your gaze quickly shifts to the faux wood floors. There was a sense of hesitancy, like you weren’t ready to see your fate just yet. A pair of dirty, black converse covered in writing sulk into your line of sight, triggering you to look up. As you did, your eyes were met with the most jaw-droppingly beautiful girl you’ve ever seen. Peeking through her messy auburn locks were piercing jade green eyes and an angular nose scattered with freckles.

It was Ellie Williams, and she was the epitome of “cool girl". Your head spun with all kinds of thoughts as your physical body went idle. You sat before Ellie gawking until she broke the awkward silence that had gone unnoticed by you. 

“Uh, hi… I’m sorry for coming in so late… some stuff came up. But uh, I’m Ellie Williams.” She held her right hand out towards you to shake it. It took you a second, but you snapped out of her spell and quickly shook her hand in return.

“Shit- Ellie, hey, it’s uh, nice to finally meet you.” You stumbled through your words as nerves overpowered your usual confidence.  There was an obvious awkward tension between the two of you. A typical feeling when moving in with a complete stranger.

Silence loomed in the air as Ellie took a stationary tour around the small, 12 x 20 ft. dorm. She surveyed your side of the room, taking note of any items that could hint towards who you are as a person. Her eyes stopped on a band poster you had hung up just hours ago. 

“You listen to Sleater-Kinney?” she inquired. 

“Hell yeah, they’re one of my favorite bands. Honestly anything in the riot grrrl music scene is right up my alley. Do you listen?” you replied with more enthusiasm and less nerves than before. 

“Yeah, yeah I do,” Ellie answered nonchalantly. You took note of her answer realizing what it could mean. Sleater-Kinney was like the gayest band ever, and Ellie definitely knew that. Maybe she just likes them for their music, but it's possible she also found the lyrics laced with sapphic pining to be relatable. Selfishly, you were dying to know her sexual orientation. Ellie seemed like too much of a stranger to ask her outright and so the game of reading between the lines began. Little did you know, Ellie was wondering the exact same thing about you. 

It was getting late and Ellie decided to save unpacking for the morning when she wasn’t so tired. You climbed onto your stiff dorm mattress and fluffed your pillows for sleep. Ellie did the same in her bed. 

“Is it cool if I turn out the lights now?” you asked, still navigating the new social dynamic as roommates. Ellie replied with a gentle hum and you hit the switch turning the room pitch black. As you lay in bed all you can think of is Ellie and the future. You didn’t know what it was, but you knew she was special, and you yearned to understand her. With these thoughts in mind, your eyes slowly begin to droop and you slip into a deep slumber. 

The next thing you know Ellie is sitting at the foot of your bed staring straight into your soul. Her beautiful green eyes felt especially intense as the rest of her face was shadowed from the dark room. 

“Ellie- I-” you could barely get out 2 words as you sat up from bed flustered. You felt like prey and she was the hunter… and you liked it. Ellie slowly inched her way toward you, crawling on hands and knees. She didn’t have to say anything, you knew what she wanted.

Your plush thighs sat between her knees and her crotch hovered over yours, heat being exchanged. You wanted her so bad. You needed her. Ellie took your chin in her hand and pulled you in close. You exchanged breaths as her lips brushed up against yours. She couldn’t wait any longer and pressed her face into yours, capturing your lips which she so longingly desired for. You fell back onto your pillows and she followed intently.

Her body lay pressed against yours and she desperately shoved her wet tongue into your supple mouth. It was ravenous and you wanted more. You knew she did too as you began to feel the rotation of her hips digging into your pelvis. The heavy breaths coming from her swollen lips were in sync with the fervent grinding. You bucked your hips towards her in a frenzy. Ellie took her veiny hand and ran it along your waistband. As she began to slip it into your pants... you woke up to discover your own hands cupping the heat below and Ellie nowhere to be found. 

“What the fuck.” is all you could say. You pulled your hand from your pants and stared at the slick spider-webbing between your fingers. God this was humiliating. You climbed out of bed to wash your hands and glanced at the clock. It was 7:15am and Ellie was already gone. That seemed kinda odd for a 19 year old college student. You wondered where she had disappeared to so early in the morning.

Soon, the over-thinker took over and you began to grapple with the possibility that you said something out loud during your naughty wet dream. What if Ellie heard you? God what if you moaned her name?? What would you even say if she brought it up? Before you could formulate a hypothetical response, Ellie walked right through the door.

“AHh-” you yelped, startled by her presence. Ellie backed into the doorway holding a coffee in each hand. 

“God, sorry, you scared me.” you explained. Ellie shuffled back inside, twiddling her thumbs trying to decide what to say.

“Sorry, I just left to grab some coffee early this morning. I couldn’t sleep.” She continued, “I brought you one too. As an apology, for any trouble I might have caused by showing up at almost midnight to move in…”. Your cheeks flushed with color and you hoped she didn’t notice.

“Oh, thanks Ellie, that's nice. I promise there was no harm done.” you answered, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. Seemingly enough, this news meant she was awake while you were, ya know... dreaming. Ellie definitely wouldn’t bring a pervert coffee though. Right? Either way, you knew one thing for sure, you've got to have her.

  ← masterlist ⭑ part 2 →

[kinardsevan]

What do you think are the chances of Buck and Tommy getting back together at some point??

I have answered this, here. It's long-winded with specific references as to why I feel the way I do.

If you want specific odds? I still stand by my "I don't have hope, I'm hopeful" statement. I don't trust the writers, but the part of me that understands writing a story and how television works (and hello breaking up in the middle of a season that isn't a midseason finale? pfft.), that part of me feels that we're in the middle of the ride. I also contend with the fact that if this breakup hadn't come out of left field during election week, we wouldn't have reacted as wildly as we did. we put so much weight into those interviews at the time, specifically towards the one that OS and TM did together, and then the one that LFJr did, and so much on the way Fangirlish phrased things. But as I've commented on over and over, OS and LFJr can't tell us where things are going, and TM won't. One, because it wouldn't serve the story, and two, what's the fun in that? Of course they want us guessing so we'll keep watching.

Now, so much weight gets put into Tim's words about how he doesn't know what's happening in the show more than a few weeks in advance, but we also know that they have general ~ideas of character arcs, at least for the part of the season they're working on. To that end, I maintain my contention that you're not breaking them up and telling LFJr "yeah sorry we might bring you back but maybe not, we'll see". That man broke them up knowing whether or not he wanted for him to return in the spring. He may not know how the story is going to be told quite yet, but he at least knows yes or no. Moreover, if the story was well and truly over, we're not getting mentions of Tommy in 807 and 808, and Buck still hung up on him. It doesn't feed the narrative, once again. If you want Tommy done/dead/in the past, you don't continue to suggest the characters are thinking about one another. You can do Buck being sad about the breakup without that kind of storytelling (i.e., season 2 with Abby's exit).

Once again, though, I want to reference every break up that has lasted on OG: BuckAbby-110. BuckTaylor: 518. BuckNatalia: (off screen but effectively) 618/701. EddieAna: 501. EddieMarisol & EddieKim: 710 By correlation, Madney's breakups were midseason and didn't stay broken up. Bathena never really "broke up" for any period of time, but they did have their struggles... oh when? The middle of the season. The only other "break ups" you can refer to within the context of the show is Doug and Shannon's deaths, which yes were in the middle of the seasons, but they were serving the narratives (and also TM regrets killing both off as soon as he did so....). We've also seen TM pull some of these midseason breakups on LS, only to not have them last. He did an offscreen split with Tarlos that was wrapped up by the end of that season opener.

Even without all of that evidence though (I really just piece it together so y'all can follow my line of logic), at the end of the day, what I'm looking at is a story being told and figuring out how you make the right moves. Maybe LFJr was only intended to tell a small story, but you know what you don't do when a character is embraced by the audience? Send them off into the sunset because you couldn't forge a better plot for them. You go back to the drawing board and figure out how to expand their story. Shows have done it for ages, and I refuse to believe that ABC saw the reaction of people to LFJr and said "get rid of him".

At the end of the day, I stay with the fact that they have to get back together because, narratively, it's what makes the most sense with the information we've been given. I think it's messy to ask people to wait 6 months for that payoff, but I also grew up in a time when streaming wasn't the norm and we didn't wait full calendar years for TV shows to release a new season. I don't put a lot of weight in the weekly interviews at this point because it feels like they're now using those instead of real 30sec. promos the way it used to be. Granted, you can argue that they unintentionally found Buck's endgame "too early" for their own liking.... but then why have him be with someone who calls him by his first name when most people in his life don't? Why suggest that Evan sees a future with Tommy in a way that we understand as an audience isn't starry-eyed like the breakup scene portrays, but is actually out of something real (as the dispatch scene suggests)? Why EVER have Buck suggest something like marriage (which he never has, even about Abby) if we're not circling back to it?

Many have stated that these are ways to just twist the knife, make it hurt more, and I can't negate that or tell you they're wrong. Even if everything I suggest ends up being right, I still can't make the argument that some of those storytelling choices weren't just to make the breakup hurt more. At the end of the day, though, my hope is that at least some of it was done in service of the narrative instead of just callousness.

Anyway. I've rambled again, and I'm sorta not sorry about it. I hope this at least answers your question though 🤣🤣🤣🤣

[eetherealgoddess]

ꨄThe Visitꨄ

Oneshot - Yandere Bonten Au

❦When Y/n makes an impulsive decision to take a trip to Japan, a trip to the wrong room causes her to catch the wrong attention❦

Sano Manjiro, Sanzu Haruchiyo, & Haitani Brothers x Reader

Not fully proofread!

MY TR FANDOM WORKS ARE ONLY ON TUMBLR, AO3, AND WATTPAD UNDER EETHEREALGODDESS! REPORT IF YOU SEE IT POSTED UNDER ANYONE ELSE BUT ME!!!

Red phrases are Japanese

I apologize if I get any Japanese etiquette or culture wrong, I literally have to research the culture for some of my fandom stories so if anything is wrong, please excuse my ignorance.

Notice:

✩Y/n is 18+. I picture her as a black female but you can see her however.

✩Some parts of the story may not be realistic or factual. After all, this is a work of fiction.

✩Although it's a dark 'romance,' I do not condone any of the behavior displayed.

✩Dark content such as: gore, violence, triggering topics, graphic scenes, vulgar language, explicit sexual content, etc.

✩There will be scenes that involve non con so don’t read if that makes you uncomfortable.

✩That being said, this story is for 18+ only.

Enjoy!

The Visit

Y/n’s journey to Japan was based on an impulsive decision. Wanting to bask in the differing culture compared to America, she decided to take a small break, her plan to only stay for a couple weeks. Unfortunately, her friends, too busy with work and stable living, couldn’t join her sudden trip across the world. Y/n currently works on her own accord, a delivering app where she makes her own schedule. A lot more freeing compared to a job where she’d have to make decisions two to three weeks in advance.

Sure, she’s no doctor or business owner but she still makes enough to afford her living and to take spontaneous outings, becoming bored easily from the day to day routine of driving and delivering all day. After all, she can even work on her vacations, though she’d prefer not to. When she was younger, she had a hard time doing things on her own so as an adult, she’s gained her own sense of independence. Using the phrase, YOLO, as an excuse to go out on her own and make things happen without waiting for others to join. Her personal challenge in life. Which is why she decided to go to a popular night club, all on her own.

Flashing lights beam as the loud music bursts through the speakers, causing the building to vibrate occasionally, chattering and laughing mixing in with the frequency. A euphoric feeling for someone in search of a good time. She walks through crowds of people after she passes the security, slightly shoving her way, light “Excuse me,” and “Sorry,” as she squeezes past the dancing mass. Obviously, nobody hears her apologies as they close their eyes and grind against the nearest person. Finally, she makes her way to the bar, the bartenders tending to the customers with smiles on their faces, conversing and flirting with the newcomers.

She takes a seat on the stool, ignoring the awkwardness of feeling out of place in an unknown world. Most of the conversations surrounding her are misunderstood, as she only knows a few Japanese words. She knows she should’ve studied more, though the anticipation caused her impatience, determining that if needed, she’ll use the web’s translator, no matter how embarrassing it’ll feel. For a second, she zones out in her own world, palm on her cheek as she leans her head, elbow plastered to the table.

“What can I get for you?”

She responds with a fruity alcohol mix, dropping her hand to the table as she watches the bartender make her drink. Once finished, he slides it to her as she hands him her payment. She sips it down fast, emptying the glass within seconds, wanting to free herself from the anxiety that fills her body, calming her thoughts as the alcohol persuades her to get out of her comfort zone. Ordering another after another, she’s finally out of her shell enough to think about hitting the dance floor, after all the crowd should cover her terrible dance moves.

After her fifth drink, she feels great, on top of the world even. Without the weakness of anxious thoughts and tense posture, she takes a selfie to send to her groupchat, her friends responding with likes and support. She smiles to herself, vision slightly shifty as she hops off her seat, shoving her phone in her purse as she walks through the crowd to a good spot.

Considering how lively she is, others fall in line, dancing near or on as everyone hypes everyone up, the music and alcohol causing everyone to lose themselves in the motion of the dance floor. The girl takes a couple photos and videos of all the different people she meets as they laugh and share the moment with each other. Some take photos and videos as well, showing off their night. Time passes as the drinks keep pouring.

Finally, the liquid reaches her bladder, causing her to stumble through the group, walking towards the bar as she searches for the nearest bathroom. Unfortunately, it takes her a while to walk around in frustration, sighing as she sees a staircase towards the balcony. Using the rail as support, she stalks up the stairs, walking until she reaches the balcony. She walks past the people as she makes her way down the hall.

“Damnit, I’m about to piss myself.” She hisses as she continues to look around, no sign of any bathrooms near.

Out of curiosity, she stops near a door where talking could be heard, though nothing she could understand besides the few words she could make out. She rolls her eyes.

“Hopefully, there’s a bathroom in here, or else I’m peeing wherever.” She mutters, chuckling as she turns the knob. When she opens the door, she’s greeted with an empty space with lounge chairs and dimmed lights, pink and red being the main color scheme of the room. The voices are louder as she walks into the room.

Maybe that’s the bathroom.

She shrugs as she walks forward, closing in on the door, the voices raising. Her eyebrows furrow at the language, caught off guard by some of the words being shouted.

“Mikey, please! I just need m-more time!”

A loud thud could be heard followed by a ‘Shut up!’ Y/n continued to listen as the concerning sounds became more apparent. She attempts to make out the words, to no avail, but she could tell that someone is begging, considering the word, ‘please.’

“Please! My wife and kids, th-they need me! God, I’ll do anything!”

“What the fuck?” She whispers. The event behind the door causes her to forget about her full bladder, which feels as though all fluid has disappeared on its own. One of her hands places itself on the door as she leans closer, becoming more intrigued as she attempts to decipher more words. Coming up with a plan, she grabs her phone and searches the web for translation. She presses the button to record and sets the phone as close to the door as she can.

“Boss, do you want me to finish this rat?”

After reading the translation, her breath hitches, eyes widening as she quickly deletes the phrase and sets the phone back in place. The hairs on her body stand as the fear sobers her enough to focus. She’s in disbelief to what she is hearing, yet she can’t find the will to move as curiosity brings her closer to demise.

Silence falls for a moment besides the pitiful man’s sobbing, weighing on her heart as she feels sorrow for what could happen, still unknown to any experiences like this. After what feels like forever, she decides to press the power button of her device and stick it back in her purse.

“NO!”

BANG!

She stops for a second, eyebrows furrowed as she stops breathing. She stares at the door in disbelief. Her hands trembling as her legs barely keep her up, causing her to lean against the wall near the door. Her heartbeat accelerates as her head begins to pound, the ringing in her ears indicating that fear is taking a toll. Before she could take another step, another three gunshots ring, echoing from the room.

“N-no fucking way.” She says to herself, turning on her heel to run out of the room.

“Shit!” She hisses as she runs into a plant, the vase shattering as she falls on the floor. Scrambling to pick herself up she quickly runs out of the room, sweat dripping from her forehead as she breathes heavily, ignoring the sound of the door behind her slamming open.

As she runs down the stairs, she pushes through anyone in the way without any apologies, too scared of getting caught snooping she rushes past the dance floor. She shrieks as shots rang through, causing everyone in the club to scatter and scream. More chaos ensues as she shoves her way to the exit. Some people could be seen falling as they’re trampled by the gathering, too many people trying to leave at the same time. The guards try to help as much as they can while the staff hides behind the bar, some in the rooms as well.

The shots continue as she's pushed against the stools, knocking them over as she stops herself from falling. She continues on, finally reaching the exit. When she makes it outside, she runs down the sidewalk, others bringing attention from the outside as well as they mimic her movements. Police sirens could be heard in the distance as she continued to run.

Breathing heavily, the pain in her stomach forms as well as the tensity in her legs, though she ignores it with the will to live another day. As she runs, she misses the black car passing by, tinted windows covering the group of men sitting in the seats.

“Another successful night of ridding ourselves of another rat, yeah?”

A tall man with short lilac hair takes a sip of his glass, leg crossed over the other as his free arm lies on the top of the seat. Lazy eyes with a side smile on his face as he eyes the men in the car.

“Successful, indeed brother. Too bad the night ended early.”

The man, sitting next to the other guy, positioned in the same way with the opposite leg, says while lighting a cigarette, the driver pressing a button to crack the windows. His hair, lilac as well, but shaped to be a mullet smirks as he pulls the smoke into his mouth, settling it before blowing out.

The two men sitting across from the brothers sit quietly as dark eyes stare out of the window, the platinum hair swaying as the wind blows through the cracks.

“I should’ve tortured him more, the disgusting scum deserved every shot for betraying my king.”

The pinkette growled, his icy blue eyes glaring into space as he imagined doing the worst to the man, violent acts playing in his head. His fingers tingle, an effect from the substances in his system, excitement causing him to smirk as he leans his head back against the seat.

“Kakucho.”

The ride became silent as their boss spoke to the driver.

“Yes, boss?”

“Look into Y/n, L/n.”

The dark eyed pale man eyes the card in his hand as he analyzes the picture and information. Finding the photo id in the lounge room, he realizes that she must’ve been the one to shatter that vase, indicating she must’ve been there during their conversation. If not, it’s good to get a hold on her, just in case.

“Yes, boss.”

“Yeah, it was fucking crazy!” Y/n says as she kicks her shoes off, locking the door behind her as she walks to the bedroom, phone against her ear.

“Is everything okay now? Are you safe?” Her closest friend says on the other line.

“I think so, Leila. I got away and nobody has followed me here so I think I’m good. I just can’t believe I witnessed something like that.” She responds, breathing out a sigh as she sets the phone on speaker, setting it on the bed as she grabs a t-shirt and shorts.

“Me neither. You probably shouldn’t go clubbing for a minute.” Leila suggests, worry evident in her voice. After Y/n is dressed, she grabs her phone and walks to the bathroom.

“Maybe, but I didn’t come here to not party. I’m sure it was just that side of town or something.” She says as she grabs a makeup wipe, starting with rubbing her eyeliner and mascara off before moving to her cheeks and forehead.

“There’s other things to do, plus you don’t know how things are fully run over there. You really know little to nothing about the area you’re in so you don’t know how consistent it is and neither do I.”

She moisturizes her face after using water to wash off any residue. She grabs her phone and pulls it to her mouth.

“I understand that, which is why I’m gonna explore some more places tomorrow, but I’m probably going to go clubbing again. Just not at that one.” She says, leaning on her leg as she places a hand on her hip.

“Okay. Just be careful, especially since you’re alone up there. I have to go back to work, so I’ll text you.”

“Alright, see ya.”

Y/n ends the call, grabbing her toothbrush and brushing her teeth. After she spits, she uses mouthwash and rinses. After her process, she grabs her phone and walks to the kitchen, chugging a glass of water before walking to the bedroom.

When she gets in bed, she pulls up a reading app as she lies in a fetal position. As she pulls up a story she saved, her eyes follow the lines until they become heavy - lidded, blurry vision overcoming until the darkness finally engulfs her.

When she wakes up, she lies for a moment before grabbing her phone and checking her notifications. She yawns, stretching and hopping from the bed, completing her morning routine as well as a shower before getting dressed in simple attire. As she walks out of her door, she cautiously looks at her surroundings, eyeing the people walking on this fine morning. In need of a picker upper, she strolls down the sidewalk, heading towards the nearest cafe, hands in pockets as she walks through the breeze.

After she walks in, she orders her drink and takes a seat in a nearby booth, intrigued by the screen of her phone as she takes sips occasionally. A figure distracts her vision, sitting in front of her, causing her to shift her gaze. She eyes the mystery man who sits in a suit, furrowing her brows as she gazes over the attractive guy. He gives her a lazy smile, greeting her and introducing himself.

“You can call me Y/n. Do I know you?” She asks curiously. She knows that she has no clue who this guy is, but asked anyway, wondering why he decided to sit at her table.

“No, we don't know each other. You’re a lovely woman, and I’d like to get to know you more.” He responds, his smooth voice adding to his demeanor. She raises a brow.

He proceeds to tell her about a club he owns, inviting her to attend that night.

“I’ll think about it.” She states, giving a polite smile as she thanks him. He nods, standing up from his chair as he walks out of the cafe.

She messages her friend about the invitation from the attractive man excitedly.

Once the evening roars, she finishes the final touches of her makeup. Finally, finished with her process, she grabs her purse, making her way out of the hotel. She rides to her destination, making it to the packed nightclub she was invited to.

Security allowed her in when she said her name, as Ran told her to skip the line earlier and the guards will understand. That didn’t help the slight anxiety she felt from the angry people waiting in the long line. Shaking it off, she walks past security, to the bar that is right outside the dance floor. She looks around the crowd of people, searching for the familiar man, confused as to where he could be. She grabs her phone when she feels a buzz through her purse.

***-***-**** : come upstairs ♡︎

She chuckles at the heart, guessing it was Ran. Though, she doesn’t remember ever giving her phone number to home, nor vice versa. She shrugs, walking up the staircase until she reaches the blocked off balcony, the guards moving the rope to allow her in.

“Ooh fancy.” She states.

Before she could take another step, she was grabbed roughly from behind, pulled into a chest as a cloth covered her muffled screams. She fails at keeping her eyes open, drifting into the darkness.

She awakens, a dim light revealing her to be cuffed to a chair within a warehouse, causing her to struggle against the restraints as tears threaten to fall.

“No, no, no!” She sobs, frustrated with her circumstances. “Fuck!” She hisses.

“Nobody gave you permission to speak.”

Her head shoots up, meeting with four intimidating individuals, one familiar guy she had just met.

Damnit! I’m so stupid. This has to be those people from the other night with that man! They’re gonna kill me!

The pink haired man with a sadistic look of amusement on his face walked forward until he reached the side of her, gun in hand. Lifting it, he raises the barrel of the weapon to her temple, causing her body to tremble as she attempts to comprehend the situation, eyes widening at the man who sat in the middle of the standing twins. His dark eyes boring into hers.

She watches the man pull out a card from his pocket, turning it over to face her; she recognizes her photo id, unable to believe her unfortunate mistake.

“Y/n, I don’t like to waste time. What did you hear?”

“Nothing! I was just looking for the bathroom.”

She grimaces as the platinum haired man narrows his eyes, piercing through her. He flicks his hand.

“Sanzu.”

Said man nods, pulling the gun back and back, handing her with his other hand, her face forced to face the side. She shrieks a curse from the sudden pain.

“Boss doesn’t like liars, Y/n.” The man with the purple mullet states, smirking at her reaction with his hands placed in his pockets.

“Rin, don’t make fun of the poor girl, she’s already having a hard time.” Ran mockingly states, smiling with one hand in his pocket as he takes a hit of his cigarette.

Y/n grits her teeth, embarrassment and anger filling her mood as she glares at both men. The sense of dread already taking over, she becomes reckless with her words considering she’ll die anyway.

“Fuck you, and fuck you!” She growls, breathing deeply as she tries to keep herself calm enough to prevent an anxiety attack. Everyone’s eyes widen, excitement taking over at her behavior, the pale man’s posture slightly straightening as he becomes intrigued. Another harsh smack forces her to scream as she’s roughly gripped by the chin and turned to face the man known as Sanzu.

“Know your place in the face of the king. Watch your mouth.” He glares at her, releasing her as he replaces the gun on her head. She sucks her teeth to prevent herself from speaking anymore, though the glare doesn’t leave her face as humiliation rises by the amused expressions on the brothers’ faces.

“Answer my question.” Mikey states.

“All I heard was gunshots when I was leaving. I just wanted to find the bathroom, that’s it! I’m just visiting!” She exclaimed, ignoring the throbbing sensation of her bruised cheek.

The room goes quiet besides her deep breathing. She furrows her brows at everyone’s dead stare, wondering if she said something wrong considering the silence. She looks around in concern, shifting her gaze around sporadically.

“Hm, do whatever you want.” The boss waves his hand as he leans back into his seat, still criss - crossed as the other men’s smirks grow.

“W-what do you mean? What are you going to do?” She exclaims, terror causing her to pull harshly against the restraints. She shifts in her seat as they get closer, Sanzu using a key to undo the cuffs. Before she could take the opportunity to flee, she’s grabbed by the arm and roughly pulled out of the seat by the man known as Rin, forcing her to her knees, causing bruises to form as the pain of the cold floor aches.

His hands still on her shoulders in a tight grip that causes tension, while Ran places himself standing in front of her. He unbuckles his pants as he pulls out his length from his underwear, giving his infamous smile as he lazily eyes her form.

“Alright princess, no biting, alright? I think you already know what’ll happen so open up.” He uses his thumb to force her mouth agape, her blocking by moving her head away from the veiny girth. Her eyes widen at the pulsating member in front of her face, tears falling as she tries to push herself away, only to be forced back into place by his brother who moves one of his hands off her shoulder and places it at the nape of her neck and head, pushing her forward. He crouches to get a good angle on her.

“Ah, ah, ah.” Sanzu says, placing the barrel of the gun on her head. “Don’t even try it.”

She glares through her tears at both men that she could see and barely opens her mouth. Ran pushes his throbbing erection through her lips, a slight groan escaping his mouth as he slowly forces her to reach his base, causing her to gag. Rin helps by adding force to her neck, holding her in place once more.

“Good. S’ fucking good.” He breathes as he pulls his hips back and pushes all the way in once more. A mixture of precum and saliva dripped from her mouth, falling down her jaw as well as salty tears. Humiliation is the only emotion to decipher as she closes her eyes to escape as much as she could from this reality. A pinch on her nose forces her eyes open as he accelerates.

“Keep those eyes open, Y/n.” Sanzu hisses. The other hand placed on her shoulder disappears as it reaches around her neck.

“We might be nicer if you’re good.” Rin whispers as he squeezes his hand around her neck. She struggles against her pinched nose and neck squeeze as her breathing is blocked. Ran’s thrusts become sloppier as he moans, his hand on top of her head and the other on her ear and cheek as he pulls back and forth.

“I’m so close.”

Mikey watches as the events play out. Despite the bored look on his face, he couldn’t help but be turned on by how she looks as she lacks air while being fucked from the mouth. His erection reflects against the bulge in his pants, slight sweat forming beneath his sweater as his eyes bore into the scene before him.

Y/n’s face, shifting colors as she struggles against the hold, vision weakening as black dots begin to engulf her. Noticing the limping of her body, the two men release her nose and neck, allowing her to breathe through her nose as Ran releases into her throat, ropes of cum shooting as he grunts.

She coughs and takes deep violent breaths when she’s released, makeup smeared as her outfit clings to her body from sweat.

“Let me fucking go! There’s no reason for this! I won’t tell anyone just stop.” She sobs angrily. They ignore her as she’s forced on her back. Sanzu forces her legs open as Rin climbs on top of her. Ran slips his pants on before he sits right above her head as he faces her from above, pulling her wrists up as he grips them, smirking as his brother places himself in front of her, crouching over her breasts.

When she gasps from the wet muscle licking her clit, Rin takes the opportunity to shove his dick all the way to the back of her aching throat.

“Shit!” He hissed as he bottoms out. Moaning with his head pulled back, he grips her head, thrusting in and out at a faster pace than how his brother started. She twitches and shifts as Sanzu sucks her clit thoroughly, flicking his tongue whenever deemed fit. He slightly moans as he licks up her juices, his tongue moving up and down as it makes contact with her bud. His hands grip her thighs tightly, nails leaving indents as he pulls her in more, eyes closed.

Rin’s hair sways as he thrusts in her mouth. Wet sounds filling the room as the cum and saliva mix while he uses her face as a fleshlight. Her body couldn’t help to react to the stimulation of her clit, to her disapproval. She also didn’t want to orgasm considering it would enable them whether they believe she truly wants this or not. In order to speed the process, she sucks his cock to bring more tension, causing him to become sloppier.

“Yes! Like that, good fucking girl.” He breathes as his eyes roll into the back of his head, thrusting harder as he gets closer to release. Everyone’s erections twitch when she unconsciously releases a moan, to her humiliation.

Just hurry up and cum so I can leave! Please!

“Dirty girl, you like this, huh?” Ran teases, as his brother’s moans become louder. Sanzu grips tighter as he rubs his erection through his pants. Mikey grips himself through his pants, enjoying the pain of his own arousal as he watches his men take advantage of this woman. His face keeps his same expression, slowly rubbing against himself as he applies pressure.

Her hands turned to fists as Sanzu used a finger to push inside of her, angling it to gain more twitches from her body. Her hips buck when he adds another, strategically pulling in and out of her vagina. His tongue flicks against her clit repeatedly, suckling as he thrusts his hand.

I don’t care if my body is reacting. I want them to stop! This is humiliating!

Tears fall as Rin finally releases into her mouth, cum shooting out as he fills her throat. She orgasms right after as Sanzu assaulted her core. Rin removes himself as Sanzu and Ran pull back. She breathes heavily as she tries to gain strength in her weakened body, still trembling from the violent acts. She freezes when she sees their boss stand up. Her eyes widen as she picks herself up and sits up, not long before Mikey motions for Sanzu to lie on the floor. The short man shoves her over the pink haired man, her face meeting his amused expression.

She’s forced to hold herself up as the brothers stood up and took the chairs her and mikey used, sitting themselves down as the anticipation of what was to come caused them to grip their erections.

When she realized what was happening, she attempted to push herself out of their grips, to no avail.

“No, please! I’ve never done anal before and I don’t want to, please! Don’t make me do this!” She sobs. Her breath hitches when Mikey shushes her from behind. As Mikey grabs her hips, Sanzu eases her down on his cock, gripping her back so she won’t pull back. She shrieks from the force, slight pain blocked from wetness yet her anxiety makes it hard for her to fully open, causing him to bully his way in.

She cries as he adjusts himself, gripping her head as he rubs her back, causing shivers to run down her spine. The brothers watch with smirks, groaning quietly as they begin to rub their own cocks. Mikey wets his finger before slowly shoving it into her anus, causing her to flinch in pain and legs to tremble. Sanzu pulls her down to lie fully on his chest as Mikey uses his other hand to push her back down, aiming for a better angle as he adds another finger.

Sanzu groans as her walls tighten around his cock, shoving it deeper as he holds it in place, head falling back as he breathes heavily. She whimpers in his ear as she tries to hold back a moan from the head hitting her cervix. It presses causing pressure as it’s still inside her, twitching occasionally as he waits for Mikey to enter.

Finally, Mikey adjusts his head to her hole after wetting his cock, shoving it inside as he ignores her cry of pain. He doesn’t stop until he bottoms out, both men groaning as they rub against each other through the lining causing extra pressure. She grunts in pain and stimulation as her body trembles. She breathes heavily in Sanzu’s ear unconsciously bringing him more pleasure as he feels the hot air against his ear, her lips barely touching his neck.

“Oh fuck, M-Mikey, can I please move?”

Forgetting his king’s title in the midst of intense pleasure, the Haitani brothers chuckle as they continue their motions.

“Yes.” He breathes as he pulls back, gripping her shoulders as he leans over, thrusting deeply as well as slowly. Long strokes as he repeats the process. Sanzu syncing with him as he hits her g-spot repeatedly, pressing against with his own long strokes.

Her eyes snap shut, tightly, as she grips Sanzu’s shoulders. Tears fall on his neck as she begins to cry. Both men’s jaws hang slightly ajar as they accelerate their speed, one going in as the other goes out. The sound of all their juices mixing as her holes drip with moisture.

Their hips snap as they become sloppy with their movements, syncing once more as they thrust inside of her roughly. All four men’s moans filled the room blocking her whimpers and cries as she sobbed for them to stop. The Haitani’s eyed the sight intently, faces bare of any smiles with nothing but undeniable pleasure as their hands bring them closer to release.

Thank god I’m on birth control.

Their grips become tighter as well as their thrusts until finally with one long but hard stroke, they both cum deeply inside her, pressing themselves inside her walls as they hold in place, the pressure causing her orgasm to crash violently, as well as the Haitani brother’s who rubbed themselves until ropes of cum shot out on their clothes.

After a while of everyone’s rugged breathing echoing through the air, Ran began to let out a light - hearted laugh.

“Awe princess, look at the mess you made! This is my favorite suit.” He smiles.

“Slutty girl, all worn out when you made us do all of the work.” Rin taunts.

Unable to keep her eyes open any longer, she allows the darkness to take over, closing her eyes and drifting into a deep sleep.

Waking up, she eyes the ceiling in confusion. She sits up, eyeing the unfamiliar room as the memories from before she passed out recollected. Her eyes widen as she dashes from the bed, falling back when her ankle is held by something cold against the bed’s bottom post.

She yanks the covers and eyes the cuffed ankle.

“No! No, no, no!” She cries, the feeling of being violated and stripped of her freedom all taking a toll as she reaches for her head. Finally feeling the cold breeze, she eyes her naked body, feeling shame as she uses the comforter to cover herself.

She looks up as the door clicks open, an unfamiliar male walking in with his white hair to the side.

“Hello, Y/n. I’m here to inform you that your stay in Japan has been prolonged.”

[mika-no-sekai-blog]

With the last breath

Word count: 1577

Warnings: depression, suicide attempt

Part II

At first, I'm sorry for my English. It isn't my native language, so there are mistakes and maybe it wouldn't give sense. Writing this was a real challenge and it showed me my (language) limits😅

For the first actual fanfiction I post here I'd say it's quite dark. I wrote it after fight with husband as kind of distraction. Well, it served its purpose.

Declaration: I write just for fun✌️

One day you were on a way to deliver some documents to Rhysand. He sent a request to the library to look for certain information he urgently needed and when everything he asked for was collected, Clotho asked you to deliver it to him. As the only person who from time to time didn't mind to go out, you had a good relationship him and knew all of the members of the inner circle. You often worked with them and helped them as you knew the library so well as the back of your hand.

Entering the River House you headed to his office. Clotho had sent him a notice of your visit early in the morning, so you knew where to look for him. As you approached the office door you could hear his voice and the voices of two other males. He was there together with his brothers standing around the table with maps and papers on it and discussing something important. You didn't want to disturb them, so you silently walked through the open door and set the documents on a small table right next to the door. Spymaster's eyes met yours for a second as he was the only one facing the door and he noticed the movement. Finding out it's you, as usually, he lost interest and returned to whatever they were looking at together. Rhys noticed his eyes went up and he also turned to you with a big, kind smile.

„Is that the information I asked for?“

„Yeah, it should be all. I checked it several times to make sure,“ you whispered silently, but he heard you.

„Would you mind to stay for lunch since you've come this far? It would be just three of us, Feyre and Elain,“ Rhys invited you.

Your eyes hastily darted to Azriel. His jaw slightly tightened, but you didn't miss that small move. „I'm afraid I need to return back..“ you tried to smile little.

„Are you already going back? Don't you need escort?“ Cassian turned to you too, offering help.

He and Rhys were kind to you and seemed to be happy to see you whenever you met them. Rhys always asked you to join a meal with his family and sometimes you'd accept it. On the other hand, Spymaster has never bothered to treat you with more than a short look or few casual phrases at the best. Even though he didn't seem to be really fond of you, he tended to sit next to you on a sofa or hold a seat for you next to him at the table. But it was a long time ago. Maybe he noticed you eyeing him with interest and that was the reason his behaviour changed over the years from 'I can tolerate you' to 'such a nuisance'. He personally didn't do nor say anything bad to you. But you could feel it from him somehow. You hadn't much of magic in your blood, but you was able to read any subtle signs and understand how people around you feel. That's the reason you stopped accepting invitations and tried to cross his path as little as possible. In the moments like this it was impossible to avoid meeting him and he seemed to be fine with it, paying you minimum attention. But as soon as somebody asked you to join them for a meal or evening, you could feel a slight discomfort from him. You tried to brush it away, but still it hurt.

When you met him for the first time you were afraid of him. As you got to know inner circle better, you learnt there's actually nothing scary about him and that deep down he is a very kind person. His silent, calm and caring nature appealed to you and before you noticed you fell in love with him. You couldn't help it even though you knew you don't have any chance. Masking it as best as you could, you decided to suffer in silence. You knew about his feeling toward Mor and when Archeron sisters entered your lives you noticed his shift of interest to Elain too. You weren't ugly, but there was no way you could compete with such beauties as the two of them. And you were well aware of that. That's why you've never tried to approach him and talk to him properly and after feeling a kind of discomfort from him in your presence, you tried to keep your distance and avoid him.

You excused yourself as fast as you could and turned around to leave. When you were sure that Rhys and Cass turned back to the table, you allowed yourself a single glance to him over your shoulder. His features were relaxed. He was so painfully beautiful that tears welled up in your eyes and the painful hole in your chest got little bigger.

After meeting him you needed some time to calm down and bury those feelings back so deep that nobody could notice them. You were walking around the city till you were sure you regained your peace. And just then you decided to head back to the library.

When you were climbing up the stairs you heard some muffled voices. You've never spied on other people, but this time you couldn't resist it and peaked to the hall to see who could it be. And there you saw them. Azriel stood with his back against the wall, Elain standing on her tiptoes with arms around his neck leaning into him. They started to kiss, slowly at first, but soon enough their passion took over. You couldn't stand it. Tears stinging your eyes once again, you left as silently as possible. When you were far from them and they couldn't hear you anymore, you run to your room as fast as you could. Closing the door you slid down to the ground unable to stifle your sobs. Knowing he has a thing for somebody else wasn't as painful as to actually see them together. It utterly broke your heart leaving you unable to breathe properly. Your life was pretty simple, you didn't have much. Your love for that male and a little faith you held were basically all you had left and the scene you witnessed totally crushed it all.

It took you hours until you calmed down enough to be able to stand up. You opened the door. You didn't know where to go, but you couldn't stand to be here anymore. Your legs took over the control, marching on their own. Suddenly you found yourself on one of the balconies heavily leaning on the railing. You slightly leaned over the edge looking down. The balcony was so high it made you nauseous. You pulled back to the safety. Spending most of the time in the library you've never gave much thoughts to heights at which you lived. You just occasionally had chance to stop and look out the window. Carefully you sat up on the railing back facing outwards. You tried to take deep breaths to calm down, to get through the pain and the shock. You tilted your head back watching floating clouds. As child you spent hours lying in the grass and watching clouds. It used to be so relaxing, but now you felt nothing, except emptiness. There was a bird flying high above you. You sighed. How beautiful it would be if you could fly. You'd took off flying far from this place, far from these people, far from him. What it must be like to feel so free and weightless. If you lean back little more, you could find out. It would be so nice to fly down, to never have to feel anything anymore. You knew you should be scared to even think about such things, but instead you felt numb.

 The bird was getting bigger as it flew closer. You closed eyes and leaned back more and more. Suddenly you felt so light, flying like that bird. Small smile formed on your lips and you stretched out arms like wings.

Azriel was flying back to the House of Wind when he noticed somebody leaning dangerously on the edge of railing on one of the highest balconies. It was strange, but he was tired so at first he didn't pay much attention to it. He looked away just for a moment and the person disappeared. His throat tightened. He immediately plunged headlong down, but he wasn't fast enough. The person was only few meters away from a certain death. He had to winnow. Stepping into shadows he reappeared few foots bellow the person stretching out arms to catch... HER! There was no doubt. It was Y/N. What happened? Why would she do something so horrible? What if he tries to catch her, but she slips through his hands and dies? He'd never been so scared in his entire life. If something were to happen to her, he'd never forgive himself. All sounds of the world disappeared, he could hear only own heart racing in his chest. It took just mere seconds, but it seemed to take forever. The moment her body collided with his, the time had stopped. He squeezed his eyes, muscles tensing, wings spreading to stop their fall.

When he finally dared to open his eyes, there she was safe in his arms, pressed to his chest. He breathed a sigh of relief.

[hammysamhah]

hello peoples i’m about to sound real crazy right now but hear me out cus i’ve been thinking this for awhile now while binge watching TBGO and Trollstopia and i need to know your thoughts!! and buckle up folks cus this is gonna be a LONG post

so okay basically, i think that in the shows Guy Diamond has some sort of generational trauma/ daddy issues/ faced parental neglect or however else it can be phrased.

this theory is only show specific and i don’t know if i sound crazy for thinking this AND i know i’ve made a post similarly about this except with Dareth from Ninjago but i actually have some real evidence this time to back up this theory/headcanon

look, this theory started off as kind of a joke at first after watching TBGO episode: “Trolly Tales 3” where Guy is seen telling a bunch of children a story based off of the nursery rhyme about jumping over a candlestick.

the story is seen with Guy as the main character, wanting to pursue a life of entertainment involving jumping over candlesticks. Sky Toronto, whom is Guy’s dad in this story, doesn’t agree with this lifestyle and insists he starts thinking more seriously and be part of the company. Guy rebels and pursues his dream anyway, but in the end it fails after the candlestick drops Guy and becomes a solo act. Guy, now at his lowest, goes back to his dad’s and tells him he’s ready to be serious. Sky responds to the statement that he has seen Guy’s shows and that he doesn’t want Guy calling him dad anymore, but to instead call him his #1 fan. it was a small but sweet twist there at the end where the dad accepts the son in the end.

now i didn’t really give much thought to the story until i saw the way Guy reacted when the kids didn’t like it. now i’ll make it very aware that i very much know Guy is just super dramatic (they even acknowledged that in the scene i’m mentioning rn), BUT as someone who loves to overanalyze cartoon characters and expressions, he kind of looked genuinely hurt. he was also fairly offended when poppy said his story was too dramatic.

mentioning again that i know Guy is just a drama queen but i like to overanalyze stuff like this

now after i noticed these details, i jokingly remarked that it seemed like Guy took the dislike of his story personally, as if that was a semi-true story. like as if something like that did happen to Guy when he was younger and he twisted the story to fit the nursery rhyme. i don’t think that Sky Toronto is his actual dad, there’s too much proof that shows they don’t have any personal connection like that. but i do think that whoever his dad really was did push him the same way Sky did in the story. and that maybe Guy twisted the ending to be happy when in reality it probably didn’t have his dad accepting him and loving him for who he was.

now everything i have been talking about is all just speculation. there’s no real proof that this story isn’t anything more than just a story. BUT!!! by overanalyzing it is what made me realize that Guy being neglected in some way by his dad (or mom if he has one) would make some sense considering his personality.

Guy is very reliant on being the center of attention, he doesn’t like the idea of anyone being better than him and just has some confidence issues in general (at least in TBGO). there are many episodes centering around this. this is even stated in Guy Damond’s wiki.

now, attention seeking is a very common occurrence in people that were neglected as a child. his attention seeking and huge ego are both things that show signs of trauma or neglect as seen below

this is just a slice of what i have in store though because i think that this ties into the way he parents Tiny Diamond in Trollstopia.

Guy and Tiny have a few episodes centered around their relationship, they’re all pretty heartwarming and a little sad (while also being funny because the show’s a comedy). these episodes have a pretty similar moral which is “i’ll love you no matter what” and i feel like there’s a reason they all pretty much have this moral and it’s to show how Guy is growing as a character and parent.

let me just summarize these episodes i am thinking of realll quick for ya

Extra Tootering (s1 ep 12a): Tiny wants to learn how to glitter fart like his dad to impress his friends, Guy tries to teach him how but it doesn’t work. time comes where Tiny is meant to show his friends his trick and ended up faking it so no one could know he couldn’t do it. feeling guilty for his lie, he runs away and Guy finds him and tells him that whether he can glitter or not he and his friends will still love him the way he is.

Dad-urday (s2 ep 1b): Tiny thinks of his dad as his hero and Guy doesn’t wanna do ANYTHING that could ever break that image, so Guy participates in Dad-urday events that he hates just to make Tiny happy, only in the end to find out that Tiny will always view Guy as his hero even if he can’t do all the typical dad things that others can do.

Funder Construction (s7 ep 5a): Guy tells Tiny about how their family has a legacy of building extraordinaryly cool blanket forts and unintentionally pressured Tiny into feeling that he needs to make his own super impressive fort or else he won’t be considered a Diamond, Guy immediately comforted and reassured Tiny that no matter what he accomplishes in life he’ll always be a Diamond because he’s his son and that he’ll love him no matter what.

now let me break down these episodes a bit more to show you how i think it could prove Guy has parental trauma and how it plays into how he parents now.

for Extra Tootering, there’s this specific scene that spoke to me. when Tiny tells his dad that he wants to learn how to glitter like him, Guy tells him that he was also a late tooter and that Tiny should be patient, as it comes with time. but then Tiny starts saying that he’ll just hide his true self away until then. when Guy heard his son say those things, he was tearing up and even freaked out a little literally shouting a dramatic “NOOOOOOOOOOO!” and he immediately decided that he was going to help his son learn to glitter fart despite his earlier statement that Tiny should be patient.

now i know the topic being about farting glitter makes this feel so unserious but that isn’t gonna stop me from overanalyzing it LOL

the main thing i noticed was how upset that Guy was when Tiny started talking about hiding himself from the world. Tiny was wanting to hide himself because he couldn’t glitter like Guy could. Guy didn’t wanna be the cause of his son hiding himself!! any parent would be upset in this situation. but if i consider my past point of that story Guy told back in TBGO, where the dad didn’t want his son to be himself, being a real thing that Guy could’ve gone through, Tiny wanting to hide himself could very much upset Guy!! not just for the basic reasons of wanting your child to be happy but also because he doesn’t want Tiny to go through what he went through.

later on when Guy finally finds his runaway son, this interaction plays out:

(direct quotes from the ep)

Guy: “don’t you see? i love you just the way you are! we all do!”

Tiny: “but you’re my daddy, daddy! you have to say that.”

Guy: “…you’re right, Tiny. i guess because i’m your father, in a way, i do have to say it.”

and the way Guy said that last sentence just felt interesting to me. the pause before he said it, and using the words “i guess” made it feel like he never really got that treatment from his own father ? ofc i could just be grasping at straws there a lil bit but it’s what i’m thinking.

now by the end of the episode Tiny has learned how to glitter and used it to save himself, his dad, and friends from falling to death lol— but what Guy says to Tiny afterwards was very sweet.

(direct quote from ep)

Guy: “TINYYYYY! HAHA! you did it! YOOOOU did it!!! for the record, i’d still love you if you couldn’t, but i’m glad to not be dead.”

i just like how Guy specified that he still would’ve loved Tiny either way. this doesn’t directly lead any points to my theory other than maybe Guy feels the need to make sure Tiny absolutely knows that he’ll love him no matter what. but any parent should feel that way about their child. i just really thought the moment was sweet and worth a mention.

now onto the next episode, Dad-urday, and let me tell you this episode probably spoke to me the MOST when it came to defending my theory.

for the entire episode Guy was stressing over disappointing his son. Tiny thinks of Guy as his hero, and Guy doesn’t want to do anything that could ever shatter that thought and make Tiny think less of him. so he and Tiny participate in a thing called Dad-urday, where all the dads in Trollstopia do a bunch of stereotypical dad things (like grill, play catch, fish, stuff like that). but Guy isn’t good at those things, so he goes to his friends for help and this interaction pursues.

(direct quotes from ep)

Synth: “Tiny’s gonna love dad-urday! he thinks the world of you and what-not!”

Guy: “exactly! Tiny thinks i can do anything! but tomorrow he’ll realize i can’t, and i just don’t want my little boy to lose his hero…”

Guy is seen here putting so much pressure on himself for no reason! he should know that Tiny would love him despite his lack of ‘dad’ skills, but he’s convinced himself that if he isn’t perfect and amazing at everything then his son will think less of him. this is totally rooted in Guy’s confidence issues and probable parental neglect i think.

so Guy forces himself to do typical Dad-urday things (with the help of his friends) to make sure not to disappoint his son. but things go wrong when Guy has to participate in a boating event to which he gets into a dangerous position. at this point Guy’s friends finally told Tiny the truth and Tiny immediately just wants his dad to get out of the danger he’s in leading to this interaction

(direct quotes from the ep)

Tiny: “daddy! your daddy friends already told me everything! you gotta get out of there!”

Guy: “b-but— this isn’t how i wanted this to go, Tiny! you’re my little boy! and i want you to keep on believing i can do anything! so you don’t lose your hero!”

the way that Guy sounded so panicked and upset in this scene really hurt. to me it feels like Guy is desperate to not end up being a bad dad, he wants to be someone his son can look up to and to be the first person he goes to if there’s a problem. i really think this shows that Guy never had a good role model himself, as he doesn’t understand that he doesn’t need to do all the things he’s making himself do in order to achieve this goal.

this mindset even had Guy forget that Tiny already knew he’s not perfect, as Tiny pointed out he already knew he’s not capable of everything and specified about when Guy tried to build his bike and failed, which made Guy finally remember. Tiny then proceeded to list a bunch of other things about his dad that aren’t the most charming, like his bald spot, or his fake calves lmao

anyways the next bit of dialogue here seems pretty meaningful

(direct quotes)

Tiny: “there’s only one reason you’re my hero, daddy…. *BECAUSE* you’re my daddy!”

Guy (tearfully): “…really?”

the fact Guy was crying in this scene just showed how touched he felt that he didn’t actually have to be perfect to be a good dad. and that he already was one. the mere fact that being his dad made Tiny think of him as his hero definitely made him realize he was doing a good job. he needed to hear that after all the pressure he put on himself earlier.

now onto Funder Construction, which is a pretty big one too cus they actually talk about their family in this episode!

this could potentially put a little dent into my theory since Guy is the one who talks about them and he didn’t seem like someone who didn’t like his family. but i might just put it as he didn’t wanna have his child worry about it. i mean Guy is an actor in the show, it wouldn’t be too crazy for him to ignore his feelings for a minute and talk a little kindly about their family’s legacy to inspire Tiny, because Guy did play a fair part in it after all.

now to put it simply this episode hurt my heart so bad 😭 Guy’s parenting in this episode is so good it hurt. Tiny found an interest in making blanket forts, so Guy tells Tiny about how making blanket forts runs in the family and that they’ve all made huge creations out of them. and now Tiny wants to do the same.

Guy supports Tiny throughout the entire thing until Tiny starts rushing it and the fort becomes unstable. by then Guy is begging Tiny to stop but Tiny is consistent on getting it done. then the tower starts wobbling over with them on it and they fall off the side! luckily they were able to hold onto some loose blankets but they still were in a very unsafe position. and even then, still Tiny is consistent about finishing this fort and thus, this interaction pursues:

(direct quotes)

Tiny: “i have to build something the world has never seen before!”

Guy: “BUT WHY?!”

Tiny: “because if i don’t…i’m not a Diamond.”

Guy: “…not a Diamond..?”

and dude. Guy’s face after Tiny said that. that brief moment of just an emotion change felt like Guy was realizing that he unintentionally pressured Tiny into thinking that if he didn’t build this fort he wouldn’t be considered part of the family. this is the exact thing Guy wanted to prevent Tiny from feeling.

so now continuing the scene, tiny is crying at this point:

(direct quotes)

Tiny: “it’s like you said, ‘every Diamond built structures that would stand until the end of time.’ so, if i don’t do that… how can i be one of them?”

Guy: “…Tiny Diamond. young man, you listen to me, and you listen good, because i have something that you need to hear. first of all, the things the Diamonds of the past did took them their entire lifetimes. if they caught one glimpse of what you’ve accomplished as a child..? it would blow the hair right off their heads!”

Tiny: [smiles and sniffs]

Guy: “and second of all, and way way more importantly, none of that matters! i don’t care if you build a thousand skyscrapers, or if you never touch another blanket again, you are always a Diamond. because you.. are my son.”

this scene is so important not just for Tiny but for Guy too. Tiny is learning once again that his dad will truly love him no matter what. and unlike last time with the glitter fart, (which Tiny was able to achieve in the end), in this episode, Tiny’s plan doesn’t work, but now he’s okay with it. because his dad made him feel less pressured and more loved. Guy Diamond truly said some powerful things to his son. this will most likely be a memory that Tiny will remember forever and that’s such a good thing.

coming back to the theory though, Guy had accidentally made his son feel how his family probably made him feel in the past. maybe not about specifically the blanket tower stuff but possibly something similar or just anything in general. pressure to live up to family values can be traumatic if your family makes you feel outcasted for not living up to it the way they want. and considering i think Guy either got disowned or ran away himself, (solely based on the story he told those children in TBGO), it obviously didn’t end very well.

the fact he made Tiny feel that pressure was probably heart breaking to Guy. and he made sure to immediately make sure Tiny knew he had no reason to feel like that. he became so serious so fast to make SURE tiny didn’t feel out of place in their family.

and that just shows Guy’s development not just from the trauma im theorizing but just in general in the show. Guy was never really the most serious character in this show. i mean, he’s a naked sparkly troll who’s main character trait half the time is farting glitter or being super dramatic in comedic ways. but seeing how serious Guy gets when it’s about his son just goes to show how seriously he cares about him. and that’s how you break generational trauma yall, Guy Diamond mastered it.

so um yeah this is pretty much all i have to say about this theory. i just wanted to show how i thought that Guy didn’t have a good childhood but made sure his son had a great one. really sweet stuff for this mostly unserious show. i know this is probably super dumb but i don’t care i just love dumb things. and if you actually read all of this thanks and here’s a cookie 🍪

[san8ny]

FINISHING AT EIGHT OR NINE ?

!: First chapter of this introduction: PROLOGUE

?: Ellie Williams x Fem!Reader - SFW - Stalker!Ellie

Ring! Ring!

The phone calls, causing you to rise from the high-chair you sit by near a counter, chilled AC blaring cool air from it’s vents while you shiver. You didn’t complain however, this being one of the only jobs you’d actually secured with your resume consisting of goat-hearding, plowing fields with no real training whatsoever. Upon answering and reaching for the phone, a somewhat grumpy man answers, asking if there were lumber planks he could pick up for a project. You ask for a name, crouching down to grab the notepad and pen placed away in a small cubby.

Joel Miller.

Jotting it down, you ask for a total amount of planks to which he asks for a dozen. You nod, twelve.

“Alright, and will that be a pick up or would you want it delivered? I will say, we have a large influx of orders out currently so our delivery services won’t get to you until tomorrow evening.”

He mumbles a few incoherent phrases away from the phone-reciever, likely speaking to someone else before returning to it, “My daughter will pick them up actually.” You give him the okay, jokingly commenting on it’s usual for people to go with the pick up option to lessen the charges of the total cost but he doesn’t seem amused, scruffing out a blunt bye before abruptly hanging up.

Rude.

In around ten minutes, a rusted truck pulls up infront of the shop; In what seems like a tee, some muddy sneakers and a cap was a woman, hopping out of the vehicle, and lightly jogging to the front door. She taps on it once, pointing a finger to the lock with an inconvenience expression.

Right, it was locked.

You mouth a small sorry, walking over to let her in as you open the glass door. “I’m so sorry, it’s late so I usually lock the doors unless I know someone is coming.” You say a bit embarrassed at your lack of attention. She dismisses you with a small wave, cracking a smile before speaking, “It’s alright.”

She’s average height, slightly maybe even shorter than your own frame. Leading her to where the order was stacked and ready to go, you assist her in carrying it back to her car. She lets out a long breath, thanking you for the help. You reassure her it’s fine, that’s it’s apart of the job. Before she can even take out her wallet, you’re leaving. Huh?

You’re actually clueless of your surroundings that it strikes something in the other woman. She eyes you for a moment while you retreat back into the shop, clicking her tongue in confusion when you immediately lock it and return to the magazine you were busying yourself with. You really did forget. Ellie wasn’t dumb. Anyone with eyes could see you weren’t from here, and frankly, she hoped you weren’t always this forgetful. Instead of reminding you, she revs the truck up and goes on her merry way.

You’d learn after this

Ellie tells herself at the redlight, fishing out a cigarette from the glovebox.

Oh, did you learn.

You were given quite the earful when you informed your manager about the incident the next morning, only even remembering when checking the cash register before closing the previous night. Fuck, I didn’t charge them.

Abby Anderson was quite the powerhouse, shaking your shoulders in anger when you broke the news you’d been scammed out of a good 120 bucks. She sighs, peering down at your remorseful face, your bottom lip quivering in guilt at your own wistful mistakes. “Alright, ‘gimme a name. Our shop doesn’t get all that many new customers often so I can probably recognize and tab them before dad gets a whiff of this.”

Miller.

Abby leans her body over the counter when you say that, resting her forearms on it’s cold surface as she lets a scoff out, “Joel Miller?” You nod in reaffirmation from where you stood with crossed arms meekly. She squints her eyes in disbelief, shaking her head ever so slightly trying to make sense of it all. Joel was a man with a temper for sure, but he wasn’t no thief.

She quickly grabs your wrist and the plentiful keys that hang on the nailed wall, “They live in your apartments, we’re getting that money.”

Abby quickly exits the shop with you behind her, flipping the sign on the window CLOSED before scurrying to meet her pace down the street. Thankfully, your building wasn’t that far away from work, however, now you had to make it known to yourself that you likely resided in the same complex as kleptomaniacs.

Abby knocks on the door that reads 207, waiting for a response. It seems like forever that you two stand there waiting, getting even tired that you opt to sit down on the carpeted hallway floor. Eventually, it’s cracked open by the same woman you recognized yesterday to have picked up the order. You scatter to stand up, pointing a finger behind Abby’s broad shoulder, “It’s her!” You shriek, to which the girl looks you up and down. “I have a name.” She spits out annoyed, rolling her eyes.

“Yeah, Yeah. You tried punking my employee, Williams. That the shit you’ve lowered yourself to?” Abby equally retorts venomously. Ellie shrugs, “I ain’t do that. She didn’t ask for the money so I assumed it was paid for or ‘sum.”

You immediately drop your jaw, how could she justify that? She knew it wasn’t paid for! “Joel called and said you’d pick it up and I have the call log so don’t even.”

She seemingly rolls her eyes again, leaving the door before returning with a wallet, “Quit bitching in my ear and name your price. Jesus.” Abby’s eye twitches ever so slightly at the audacious act put on; “120 and don’t call me a bitch.”

“Actually, I didn’t call you one, I said—! “

Abby snatches the money anyways, forcing you to follow her like a kicked puppy as she trudges towards the elevator and practically punches the button. Once it arrives and you both step in, she rubs her face with a calloused palm in an attempt to soothe the irritation away.

“Ask for money next time. We don’t have pre-paid shit.” Before you can even respond back, you’re both exiting the cart, and the building— walking back to the shop.

While you believe it was done and over, Ellie watches you two from her bedroom window. Something ever so slightly glosses over her eyes when she watches you walk with Abby, obviously struggling to meet her fast-pace. Maybe it’s the weed she’s smoking, or maybe it’s something deeper. However, something about you rubs Ellie, and she can’t tell for the life of her if she likes it or not.

In the span of that very same week, she finds out your name and where you reside, and just her luck, it’s close!

So very close.

Ellie emphasizes, watching you tiredly slug past her unit door through the peephole a couple minutes past 9 everynight.

[goodluckclove]

I've been meaning to say something. (100 follower hot take)

Hey! Thanks for stopping by. I hope you've had a nice day. Why don't you rest with me for a while? I made some chocolate chip cookies - with shortening instead of butter, so they're very soft and very chocolatey. I made way too many and they aren't my wife's favorite, so I could use some help in eating them.

You're probably a writer, right? Or maybe you think about how you could be. Browse the tags here, or on other social media platforms. Maybe you used to write stories as a kid. I bet those were fun. Teachers might've thought they were impressive, or they dissected them line by line until the words didn't make sense in your head anymore. Either way, if you're here you're probably here for a reason.

(rant alert)

I dipped a toe in online writing communities on and off. My last attempt was forty-five minutes scrolling through the writing hashtag on Youtube Shorts (so TikTok, I guess? I don't know). I didn't like it. I really didn't. The thing that sticks out the strongest in my mind is one particular video where a woman claims that every story needs a second act plot twist.

Huh? Every story? All of them? Why? Since when? Who are you? What qualifications do you have to make a statement like that?

That's the common thread that makes a lot of writing spaces very uncomfortable for me. Successful writers are really only successful in their genre and for the given moment, so they don't have that much objective authority in the craft. And yet I see a lot of people deciding the things that you can't do in writing. Or the things you have to do, and how you have to do them. It was so much of Writeblr at first glance that I almost dipped out once again. I didn't, though, and I'm glad I didn't because now I get to watch some of the next great storytellers from across the world grow and examine and forge their way forward.

No one can teach you how to write. No, that's not true. Teachers teach literacy. Handwriting. Typing maybe - do schools still teach typing? Let me try saying it in a different way - no one, not one single person on this goddamned planet, has the right to tell you how to make a story.

I was supposed to get my MFA in creative writing before my first breakdown. My uncle stayed in the program I was meant to be in, and a few years after I dropped out he graduated. Recently I had the thought to look up his thesis novella, and as I searched I found myself regretting my decision to leave school. If I stayed and got to develop my writing in an actual class, with other writers and a knowledgeable professor, how much further along would I be than where I am right now?

It was bad. His novella was terrible. It was so bad I had a small existential crisis for, like, three days. He spent so much money on years and years of professional education and came out with a truly soulless story that read as if you prompted an AI to write the next Great American Novel. So if you think you need a writing degree to be a legitimate author, it could help connections-wise, but it ultimately won't be the thing that does the work for you.

Not all advice I see online on writing is bad. I find the people who are able to capture the "I" statements of therapy and phrase advice as things that have worked for them, or things that they personally enjoy, to be fine. Some writing advice can spark inspiration.

But if someone is the type of person to boil every story down to troupes and cliches, and then immediately say that every story that uses the trait they don't like is automatically bad for everyone? I'm dropping the kindness for a second - that's trash. That's a trash take and I see far too many writers use it as a reason to stop before they begin.

I don't like whump. I say my reasons in previous posts if you go back through my blog. But you will never hear me say that any story with whump in it is bad, because I don't know that. You might prove me wrong. I am an adult human being and I have the humility to admit that I can like something I didn't expect to. I genuinely enjoy the direction of The Human Centipede (only the first one) and if you cringed just now that probably means you haven't seen it.

There are so many types of books and movies and plays and comics out there. To enjoy a specific genre is fine, to ignore the existence of everything else is a really, really, really odd thing to do. Maybe someone will hate your story because they think everything should be Neil Gaiman, and therefore have no way to understand your epistolary high-Western. You are not the wrong end of that situation just for existing.

And at there is a definite threshold on how many writing tips you can gather before they stop being useful. If you find them interesting, that's one thing. That's fine. But if the culture of creativity online has made you feel like you need to educate yourself on every possible angle before you can write a story, you are actively harming yourself.

Imagine taking the level of structure you put on yourself in that way and putting it on children playing pretend in the backyard. Oh, Susie, don't you know that it's overdone for your Kitsune have dead parents? Xyler, shouldn't you ask someone else before you decide how Spiderman would react to this? It would make no sense and they do not need it. Kids will make a whole world out of nothing and it's the most fucked thing in my heart that at some point they get access to Reddit and dipshits start insisting that's wrong.

They aren't wrong and you aren't either. Your favorite creative influencer can't tell you your story, strangers on the internet can't tell you your story, your teachers and loved ones can't tell you your story. They can influence it, but they can't write it honestly the way you can.

You do that. That's the thing you do.

Man that makes me upset. I can't tell you how to make a story, either. If anyone sends me asks for writing advice the most I'll do is say what I've done before hopping into your DMs and starting a direct conversation. it's so personal to each individual artist, and I'd like to think that the people selling these classes and software and promoting these platforms haven't thought about that before. Otherwise it does feel manipulative. If you have a willingness to practice and imagine and really experiment with the possibilities, you are ready to write your story.

And if it doesn't work? Try again. That's what you do.

Stephen King has written roughly a thousand books and maybe five of them have decent endings. He is unimaginably successful.

I'm rambling now. I think I got that out of my system. I was really worried to say this out of fear of being too weird or somehow reverse-gatekeeping so hard that it circles back into also being a bad thing. I've just spoken to a lot of people who I still think of throughout my day, and I truly ache for them to get past the fear of creation. Because it's worth it. It's worth it and it's fun, even when it's messy and you're tired.

Let it Be just came on. Beatles. I haven't listened to The Beatles in a long time. Feels a little apropos.

I love you, reader. Reader, Writer, Colleague. Take care of yourself. Especially the little you, still sitting there in the backyard of your soul, bathing in the sun with their bare feet in the damp earth.

Consider joining them, maybe.