#and though I’m not expecting the same from the second season it’s been pretty good so far

[orangeflowerpetals]

He’s a 10 but really wants to eat free range humans

[woniverse-writes]

"MOTH TO A FLAME (part 3)"

Bada Lee x Fem!Reader

part 2 ⟵ part 3 ⟶ part 4

series masterlist

summary: y/n l/n is the youngest team member of Jam Republic, competing in the second season of Street Woman Fighter. she’s got the sweetest smile and the most vibrant personality, but she also may or may not be the biggest hothead on the show when it comes to defending her teammates. apparently that’s attractive to Bada Lee.

word count: 9.2k

warnings: swearing, suggestive at times, both Bada and reader are idiots practically already in love, reader is described as younger and small a lot, sometimes isn't very accurate to swf's actual plot, also this isn't proofread so... sorry for any mistakes lol- lemme know if I missed anything!

All teams had gone their separate ways to begin discussing which company they were going to aim for. The only two teams securing the company of their choosing were Wolf’Lo and Lady Bounce- meanwhile Bebe, TsubaKill, and 1 Million all go for JYP; and Jam Republic, Mannequeen, and Deep N Dap all go for Hybe. When Bebe had walked into the room to 1 Million in there as well, they knew it would be interesting- then even more so when TsubaKill entered. And even though none of them outwardly said so, all of Bebe was secretly glad they weren’t going up against Jam Republic.

Jam Republic on the other hand- wasn’t worried at all when they saw Deep N Dap enter the room. In fact- when Kirsten had reported the information back to the team as they were preparing, Emma and Y/n couldn’t help but smirk and snort at how easy it would be. 

So all teams began preparing their choreography to battle against each other. Everyone was working hard and staying focused, ensuring they put out their best work to secure the company of their choosing. Bada had stepped out briefly, leaving the rest of Bebe to start choreographing. when she came back, they had yet to start anything, only having collected ideas. It frustrated the leader beyond words, yet she still tried her best to express the dissatisfaction she was feeling to her teammates.

“You guys know I’m not the only person on this team, right?” the eldest member sighed passively with her eyes shut in frustration. The others all stood in silence, too ashamed to speak up. 

“Every time we go out there, everyone calls us “Bada and her students”- aren’t you tired of that?? I’m tired of it, so why aren’t you?” she started raising her voice. Bada looked around at her teammates and felt disappointed, but was also starting to feel exhausted.

“I’m not competing by myself here… let’s get started” she sighed and everyone fell into a clump behind her, ready to follow her instructions. They begin working and eventually develop a pretty good routine, except everyone is on edge and they all keep making little mistakes. 

The Bebe members take a break and Bada grabs her phone and her water, walking out the door to get some air. She can’t help but criticize herself, wishing she was able to lead her team better- lead them in a way where they felt confident enough to work on their own. But no, Bada is still learning, yet not giving herself a break. She almost feels pathetic when she opens her messages app and her and y/n’s texts are already pulled up. She sighed reading over the last few messages they were talking about, which happened to be from the night before after they had all picked their groups. Bada had been saying how she was kind of glad their teams weren’t directly against each other, and y/n replied with something along the lines of how she agreed- saying it would’ve broken her heart. Bada types out a quick ‘how’s it going?’, not expecting a response right away but still hoping for it anyway. The leader was starting to accept the fact that the younger dancer was becoming a safe space for her, and she had a feeling that said dancer felt the same.

In the meantime- Jam Republic is having a blast coming up with choreography, their teamwork is impeccable, and the ideas flow like water. After about three hours of non-stop motion they take a longer break. Y/n sprawls out on the floor and Audrey comes to lay on top of her, causing them both to laugh- until Emma also comes to lay on top of them, and suddenly Audrey was dying laughing and y/n was groaning about how it’s not fair for the smallest to be on the bottom. The older three members sat back and admired their playfulness- Latrice began recording the chaos and Kirsten started snapping pictures. After a few minutes of messing around, Emma rolled off the two and Audrey followed, leaving y/n dramatically breathing with her eyes closed and head tilted- pretending like she was dying. Ling made her way over to the youngest with her phone and water in hand, passing them off to her as she sat up.

“Thanks Ling Ling” the younger girl appreciated with her eyes still shut, but a sweet gentle smile on her face. y/n opened her phone as she took a sip of her water to see a message from Bada. It was sent a couple of minutes ago simply asking ‘how’s it going?’ wot which she quickly replied with ‘pretty good! We’re getting a lot done and it looks pretty good too🫣😋’ totally unaware of how tragic the Bebe practice is going.

Right as Bada is about to put down her phone and start the practice back up, she feels it buzz and looks down to see it light up with a new text notification. She immediately opens it to see y/n’s reply, and smiles, happy to know at least one of them is doing well. She typed out ‘that’s great! Wish I could say the same haha… but it’s okay- I feel more motivated now after hearing that your practice is going well🩵’ and pressed send before waiting a few seconds to see if she’d get a response right away- which she did.

‘Oh no! I’m so sorry to hear that love :( I hope it gets better- just remember to keep drinking water and DON’T overwork yourself! It’s important to do your best but you also need to make sure you’re in your best state of mind as well’ was the text Bada had received and truth be told, it made her a little emotional. She hearted the message and began typing again. ‘Let’s get something to eat after the battles tomorrow, okay? On me’ 

Y/n felt her face heat up and a smile began to take over as she read the latest message from Bebe’s leader. She made sure to heart the message and respond quickly with an ‘of course!! That sounds great!’ before putting her phone down and getting back to practice.

Bada felt relieved at y/n’s acceptance, sending a heart emoji then turning her phone off to head back to practice- now with a much better attitude. Her change in mood seemed to bring up the team's morale as a whole, seeing as how every member was bringing their a-game now. They finished choreographing and ran their routine into the late hours of the night before deciding to turn in and get some rest for a few hours. They came back the next morning and rehearsed a bit more, but ultimately they felt confident and were ready to compete.

As all the teams filtered in, everyone was sharing their nerves and excitement among themselves. Jam Republic was up first to battle and their three youngest members were beyond excited to take the stage. They showed their choreo, and even though they were only given a short period of time to work on, they blew everyone away with how energetic and clean it was. Audrey and Y/n once again received immense praise for their facials and explosive stage presence. The performance ended and while the other members were trying to catch their breath and process how they did, the two youngest members were skipping back to their seats giggling over how fun it was and how they hoped to keep HYBE so they could do it again

After watching Mannequeen, y/n was excited about how good it was but felt a little nervous after seeing her leader's tense expression

"Hey, let's try not to worry too much, we already danced and did our best, and we did amazing! Let's just try to enjoy the other dances right now" the youngest member softly states after putting a gentle hand on her leader's shoulder, giving her a bright youthful smile.

"y/n since when did you get so mature? You don't seem fired up at all right now and it's kinda scaring me" Latrice commented from the other side, causing y/n’s smile to widen a little.

"won't you be upset if we get eliminated?" Kirsten asked seriously before the younger girl could respond to the initial question. 

"Of course, but I'm so tired I can't even think that far ahead right now" she joked. The members all rolled their eyes and laughed. after staying up all night to perfect their piece, they could barely even process it when the votes came in and Deep n Dap was kicked instead of Jam Republic. But to be completely honest, they weren’t surprised at all.

They move on to the JYP battle section, meaning it’s time for Bebe, 1 Million, and TsubaKill. 1 million goes first and of course, y/n is hyping up her new friends- especially Redy, which Bada is absolutely not happy about. She hates it, it makes her more nervous.

y/n is even more excited while watching Tsubakill, cheering again for the member she’s closest with- Rena, but also fangirling over their leader, Akanen. This again makes Bada even more nervous- to the point where she feels like she's gonna pass out. She hated feeling jealous but she also hated how badly she wanted to please the youngest dancer from Jam Republic- and that paired with her already crushing need to succeed was tearing her apart. 

"Bada looks really tense…" Latrice comments

"oh my god I feel like I'm gonna throw up- I'm so nervous" y/n replies with her hand on her chest. Kirsten puts an arm around her shoulder, the whole pink team now feeling anxious. Bebe goes and they do amazing. Y/n is cheering and screaming the whole time, over the moon excited to see how well the routine turned out. When they finished dancing and everyone was cheering all the members bowed and turned to the various teams. When Bada had turned to face Jam Republic, y/n was already standing up throwing her hands in the air.

“What were you even worried about?? That was fucking amazing!!” the young girl scremaed with a huge smile on her face, causing Bada to share the same expression before shaking her head and turning back around to await the results. Everyone votes and the results are announced, 1 Million will be moving to another section. 

After all the teams are adjusted, it’s announced that the two teams of each company will have an hour and a half to decide who gets to choreograph each song, then they will all take a four-hour filming break for lunch, but teams were allowed to begin collecting ideas if they wanted to. Bada had already discussed with her team that they would be taking their break to relax and decompress as long as they had gotten to stay in JYP. similarly, Jam Republic had also decided to take their break if they got to keep their original group. 

Bada came waltzing over to Jam Republic’s seating with a cool smile on her face, even though she was really trying to contain an accomplished grin. y/n hopped down and met the older girl at the bottom, her teammates trying their best not to be nosy, but failing miserably.

“So I’m thinking a quick shower and then we can go?” Bada had asked looking down at the shorter girl who just smiled and nodded at first, her cheeks a little flushed already.

“Mmhm! Sounds good to me!” y/n responded enthusiastically, even though her brain was still stuck on the thought of Bada showering- or rather them showering together. Bada held up her hand like she was waiting for y/n to shake it, which she did albeit with a confused look. 

“Alright- see you soon then princess!” Bada affirmed, giving a final playfully aggressive shake to y/n’s hand, as if they had just sealed an important business deal, causing the younger of the two to burst out into giggles. After Bada is back with her crew, y/n turns around to see the rest of Jam Republic eyeing her expectantly. 

“Soooo what exactly are you gonna be doing later, princess?” Kirsten interrogated with a teasing smile. y/n just laughed some more and her smile grew wider (if that was even possible).

“Nothing crazy, we’re just going to get lunch” she had explained, somewhat calm, not entirely believing herself when she described it as “nothing crazy”. They all nodded and hummed, pretending to believe her.

“Right… just lunch… nothing crazy!” Emma repeated sarcastically with a knowing smile.

“Just don’t come back with hickeys the makeup crew won’t be able to cover-” Ling teased quietly to which everyone shot her a wide-eyed look.

“what? The way that girl looks at her is definitely not television-appropriate seventy-five percent of the time!” she exclaims, trying to defend her comment, which causes everyone to chuckle and nod in agreement.

“She’s got you there y/n… you should definitely go somewhere public, so she doesn’t pounce on you.” Emma snorts out a laugh, finding herself to be the funniest person in the room. Audrey shoves her shoulder and scoffs.

“Leave her alone- this is exciting! Y/n isn’t as delusional as we all thought!” “No Audrey- she’s still delusional, her delusions are just reciprocated by someone even more delusional that’s just really good at hiding it.” All the members look over to see Lusher standing in front of them with a knowing smirk. All of their faces drop, now looking a little panicked. 

“It’s okay- we’ve been having pretty much the same conversations with Bada.” the Bebe sub-leader reassures them with a subtle laugh and smile. They all briefly relax before turning their full attention back to the girl in front of them.

“Wait- what do you mean you have the same conversations? About y/n???” Emma excitedly speaks up, leaning forward ready for the tea. Y/n also leans forward hands resting against Emma’s shoulders, with wide eyes and a tiny curious smile.

 “Well… yes… but I don’t think right now is the best time to explain.” Lusher draws out with a teasing smile, causing Emma and Y/n to groan, but the rest to shake their heads and laugh. 

“Anyways- I actually came over to see if the rest of you would want to get lunch with us, seeing as our precious teammates decided to ditch us for a date.” The standing girl finishes off her offer by crossing her arms and landing her eyes on y/n with another teasing look.

“That sounds great!” Audrey gushes, smiling happily at the invitation before looking over at Kirsten for confirmation. The older nods her head and smiles.

“We’d love to, thank you so much.” Kirsten nods again gratefully, and Lusher smiles before heading back to her team. After the short break, all teams head into their battle rooms to decide who is going to get to choreograph a chunk of each song. Everyone else seems to have figured it out quickly, besides Mannequeen and Jam Republic, who ended up taking the whole hour and a half they had been given. After it was decided that Mannequeen would take “Dope” and Jam Republic would take “Eve, Psych, and the Bluebird’s Wife” they were finally able to go on their break. The rest of Jam Republic decided to head out and meet team Bebe for lunch right away, while y/n texted Bada to let her know she was just finishing up the decision process and that she was going to change quickly before the meeting.

Y/n rushed back to her apartment and showered before drying her hair and doing her makeup. She had kept it light but still pretty, tying the look together with her signature gloss. Her outfit was simple- well- simple for her. She had on a pink tank top paired with a khaki skirt and layered a white jacket on top. She finished getting ready and shot Bada a quick text letting her know she was leaving. They decided to meet at a cafe that was in between their apartments and happened to be really close to the studio. Once y/n had arrived she walked in to see Bada already sitting at a table looking at her phone.

“Hey! Sorry I kept you waiting…” y/n spoke up shyly as she approached the table. To which Bada looked up and shook her head immediately, signaling it was no problem.

“You didn’t keep me waiting, I actually just got here a few minutes ago” the older shared to ease the younger girl’s mind. She ‘ahh’ed and took her seat across from Bada. They exchange small talk for a moment over what they’re going to order and begin conversing more comfortably after that. Their food and drinks arrive as they continue their conversations about how each other’s day has been going. Y/n is currently retelling how the decision process went down between them and Mannequeen, and even though she's disappointed in losing dope she laughs about it openly because Mannequeen was surprisingly sweet and respectful about it (or at least most of them).

"Wait- so you’re telling me they blocked your door??" Bada asked in disbelief after taking a bite of her food, trying not to laugh.

"YES" Y/n openly laughed at Bada not fully believing her and took a sip of her drink. They continued to laugh about it for a little bit before going back to talking about how team Bebe had been doing.

“I’m just glad we were able to pull it off… I was really stressed.” Bada tried to laugh about it so she didn’t seem too troubled in front of y/n, but the younger girl still frowned and reached across the table to take Bada’s hand on hers, rubbing the back of it gently before nodding at her to continue.

“I felt horrible especially in the beginning, because it really seemed like I was the only one putting in work… but then I felt even worse after thinking about how it’s my fault that my teammates don’t feel secure enough or confident enough to lead themselves… I felt so selfish. Like I wasn’t fit to continue leading them in that moment…” the older girl continued quietly, looking down at the table. She didn’t want y/n to pity her, but it just felt too easy to open up to the girl.

“You’re too hard on yourself.” she spoke up, looking at Bada with puppy eyes. The young girl could feel her heart shattering into pieces while listening to the leader describe her stress. She just wanted to lean over the table and wrap her in a giant hug, and coddle her until she had no more negative thoughts about herself. Bada sighed and hung her head for a second before looking back up at the girl across from her.

“I know…” she began with a sad smile.

“I just feel like I have to always put out the best work- especially here. There are so many amazing dancers and choreographers, so many teams with such strong presences… I just want that for Bebe. I want them all to be strong and recognizable because believe it or not, I hate that everyone only sees me when they think of my team…” Bada finishes off her rant with her head resting in her hand that isn’t still being held by y/n’s.

“Bada-” the other starts

“You do always put out your best work. everything you do is amazing- whether it’s as a dancer, a choreographer, and especially as a leader. Your girls look up to you a lot for a reason. They wouldn't care so much about your opinion if they didn’t think you were deserving of leading them.” Y/n finishes off strong and the look in her eyes assures Bada that she means every word. She looks back down and smiles again, feeling pressure starting to build in her eyes- there is no way Bada will let herself cry in front of y/n like this. 

“You did well. I’m really proud of you.” y/n smiled and nodded gently, squeezing Bada’s hand in reassurance and that caused a single tear to slip down the older girl’s cheek, sending the younger into a slight panic. 

“Ah- don’t cry!” Y/n stood up and ran over to Bada’s side of the booth, sitting down next to her as she began wiping her tears with her jacket sleeve. The younger continued to do so until Bada had stopped crying. Y/n looked into Bada’s eyes with a pout on her face as she tucked a piece of hair behind the older girl’s ear. Her hands were still resting on her cheeks, caressing the taller dancer’s face, even though the tears had stopped flowing a while ago. The two sat there in silence, just embracing the close proximity. Bada’s breathing was shallow, still recovering from crying, but now feeling nervous after realizing how close y/n was. The younger of the two glanced down at the other’s lips and stared for a few seconds before hearing her gasp quietly, causing her to look back up. Y/n backed away slightly, to Bada’s disappointment, but only to give herself room to pull one of her hands away and kiss her thumb, before placing her hand back on the older girl’s jaw and rubbing said thumb gently across her bottom lip. Bada was so shocked by her boldness, she felt her lips part slightly and her face heat up. Y/n just smiled lightly at her reaction, once again staring at her lips. She looks up to make eye contact on her own this time, kind of loving the power she has over the older girl at this moment.

“Are you feeling better now” she whispers gently and Bada just nods in a daze. Y/n hums and nods also, rubbing her cheek one more time before standing and heading back to her own seat. Bada snaps out of her daze, still feeling dizzy at the interaction. She clears her throat and takes a sip of her drink. The rest of lunch goes on without another serious incident, but y/n’s eyes are filled with what could only be explained as “pure love and adoration” for the remainder of their time together. The two end up heading back to the studio together, sharing the backseat of a cab. 

Bada really is shocked by how bold y/n has become with her- after they finish up their meal and pay for everything, their cab arrives. Bada opened the door for y/n, which she giggled about and joked that Bada was such a gentleman to her, causing the older to roll her eyes and smile before explaining how she simply was taking care of her princess.

“Her princess…” y/n couldn’t stop thinking about that as they drove back. Once the two had both gotten in the car, they started off pretty evenly spaced out with Bada on one side and y/n on the other. But after about two and a half minutes they were side by side, and eventually, y/n had her legs lying across Bada’s lap as they cuddled and looked at the pictures they had taken together on their phones. When they had arrived back at the studio, y/n swung her legs back over placing her feet onto the car floor, opening her own door this time. Bada had followed her coming out the way, making sure to close the door behind and thank the driver. The two walked right next to each other, shoulders bumping but neither of them being brave enough to reach out and hold the other’s hand. As they both reached the lobby, it was almost the end of their allotted break time.

“I had a really great time today… so thank you” y/n began with a shy smile and blush painting her face, as she looked up at the older girl. Bada shared a similar smile, also taking on the look of “love and adoration” that y/n’s been sporting for the last hour or so. 

“Eyy you don’t need to thank me…” she began just as shyly

“I also had a great time- even if I did cry a little-” Bada joked halfway through, causing y/n to giggle and bump her shoulder.

“But I seriously love talking to you… I’m hoping we can do this again soon.” it wasn’t a question, but the younger girl’s eyes were immediately lighting up and she was nodding her head.

“Of course! I’d love to!” y/n started enthusiastically, but then she took a deep breath and continued

“I really love talking to you too” she thought she was gonna cry if she said anything else, so the younger girl just finished off with a smile and sparkling eyes, not believing what was happening. Her heart was pounding and her face hurt from how much she had been smiling. Y/n thought her stomach was going to explode from how many butterflies she was feeling- it was like a real crush now… not some celebrity crush or feeling of admiration for someone older that one looks up to… these were real romantic feelings and y/n was surprisingly ready to deal with them. And even if she wasn’t, the way Bada was smiling at her would definitely change her mind.

_______________

Rehearsals have been exhausting, especially after having learned their opponents' choreography. For some teams, it was an easy adjustment, but for others… it was definitely a challenge. 

TsubaKill had thrown in a tough acrobatic skill that was tough for even some dancers with experience in that area. Tatter was struggling to stick her landing on the double front handspring, and it was definitely bringing down the team’s confidence. Bada tried her best to stay positive as their leader, but even the members could tell she was starting to get nervous.

They’re given a longer break and Bada takes a walk, not even realizing she ended up near Jam Republic’s practice space. The pink also seems to be on break and the Bebe leader stands outside debating whether or not to knock on their door.

“Y/n…” Latrice starts suspiciously. The younger girl hums while taking a sip of her water, looking over with wide eyes.

“I think someone’s looking for you.” she finishes off with a soft knowing smile, pointing in the direction of their doorway. The younger looks over and furrows her brows, immediately standing up to head over to Bada.

“Hey- what's up? Are you okay?” the youngest Jam member asks in a concerned voice, eyes expressing how genuinely worried she is. Bada’s expression isn’t doing much to help her feel at ease, as the older hesitates for a second before sighing and closing her eyes.

“I don’t know… this practice is going terribly.” She begins, laughing pitifully, trying not to cry. Y/n pouts and makes a noise expressing her sadness and understanding. She immediately wraps her arms around the taller girl's waist, securing her in a comforting hug. Bada huffs out a sad laugh and wraps her arms around the smaller girl's shoulder, resting her head atop of hers. They stay like that for a few minutes with y/n rubbing circles on the older girl’s back. The whole time Bada was wishing she could just stay there forever, thinking that she might even fall asleep if she let herself stay any longer. She let out a sigh and stood up straight, patting Y/n's head before reaching to hold the smaller girl’s face in both hands. Y/n still had her arms loosely around the taller girl and was forced to look up at her since Bada was holding her face softly between her hands. The younger girl’s eyes glittered as she smiled softly, tilting her head slightly to lean into one of the older’s palms, looking lovingly into her eyes. In that moment Bada felt herself let out an uncontrollable giggle.

“You really are a puppy…” she stated absentmindedly with a lovestruck smile, still staring into the younger’s sparkly eyes. y/n giggled girlishly and wrapped her arms tighter around Bada’s waist teasingly, causing the older girl to laugh and squish the smaller’s cheeks playfully between her large hands. Both were giggling and clinging to each other, and the rest of Jam Republic was either smiling endearingly at them or making fake gagging noises (Emma). Bada sighed and let go of y/n’s face, placing her hands on her shoulders instead. The smaller of the two finally let go of the other’s waist and stood there waiting for her to say something.

“I should probably let you get back to practice…” Bada pouted slightly, not really wanting to go back to her own practice.

“I mean, you don’t haaaave to…” the younger dragged out her sentence with a playful eye-roll, playing around still, also not wanting the older girl to leave. Bada huffed out a laugh and shook her head.

“Okay, well I definitely need to get back to practice.” she stated, trying not to sound too distraught by it. Y/n’s eyes softened and her face fell for a split second, almost unnoticeably, before a gentle smile took over her face.

“Just please don’t overwork yourself… or the girls. Take care of each other please, your health and mentality are most important…” the younger girl pleaded looking deeply into Bada’s eyes. She patted her head and ruffled her hair a little, causing her to whine slightly. Bada laughed again and nodded her head.

“I promise we’ll all take care of ourselves… but we’re still gonna work just as hard as before. At least until we get things right.” her face dropped a little and the somber expression was back.

“No. health first, Bada… you won’t be able to get anything right if you’re injured… so please take care of yourself.” and after seeing the pleading look in y/n’s eyes while she stood there with her arms crossed over her chest, Bada really couldn’t find it in her to argue. So she let out a sigh and nodded. 

“Okay…” she nods again looking at the ground, feeling a bit emotional. Bada takes another deep breath and stands up straight, smiling again, causing y/n to smile again. 

“Alright, well i’m gonna get back to practice-” the older states, and right as y/n’s about to reply, Bada places a quick kiss atop her head, and then struts off back to her practice space, leaving the younger girl with her jaw dropped and eyes wide as ever. Once she’s taken quite a few steps and put some distance between them, Bada turns over her shoulder and throws y/n a wink paired with a teasing smile. The younger can’t help but huff out a laugh of absolute astonishment and disbelief. As Bada turns the corner and is out of y/n’s sight, the Jam Republic girl doesn’t even want to turn around to see her teammates' expressions, knowing damn well she’s gonna have to answer a lot of questions.

__________

The next day arrives and it’s time for everyone to present their pieces to the other crews, as well as record their practice videos to send in for the artists to view. While all of Jam Republic is in a good mood and extremely excited to show off their routine, their youngest can’t help but feel a little anxious. Not for herself, but for the team sitting next to them, and more specifically for their leader.

Bebe was one of the first to go and it started off well. They seemed pretty relaxed until it came time for Tatter’s front handspring. She didn’t stick the landing and it threw everyone off, but the team didn’t falter, continuing on as if it didn’t happen. Y/n was cheering the loudest, especially for Tatter, letting her know it was okay. But when the blonde didn’t land her font walkover as well, y/n’s screams increased in volume tenfold. 

“YOU’VE GOT THIS TATTER- LET’S GO GIRL” she’s screaming so hard that her chest hurts, and the small girl can feel tears starting to sting her eyes. At this point everyone else was cheering for the team as well, wanting to see them finish off strong. The second it was over, Bada was turning to Tatter and wrapping her in a tight hug. The younger member cried and cried, while her leader petted her hair and shushed her.

“Are you okay? You didn’t hurt yourself, did you?” Bada whispered to the crying girl in her arms, who shook her head and backed away to wipe her tears. The leader pushed some hair out of her face, and pulled her back in for another hug, leading her and the rest of the team back to their seats. Everyone continued to cheer for them as loud as possible.

“You did well, it’s okay. It was just a mistake. As long as you’re not hurt, that's what matters right now.” the blonde sighs, finally calming down and she lays her head on the oldest member’s shoulder, closing her eyes for a few moments.

On the other side of them, Jam Republic is holding back their own tears, feeling immensely sorry for the team they’ve grown so close to. Except for y/n who is freely letting her tears fall, as she hides her face in her hands. Latrice rubs her back until she calms down and is able to sit back up without crying.

A couple more teams take their turns before it’s time for Jam Republic. It’s safe to say that when they do their routine and everyone goes fucking crazy. Their ability to pick up Mannequeen’s whacking section and execute it as well as they did, sent everyone into a frenzy. On top of that, their energy and expressions were beyond praise, so everyone was just screaming. 

Everyone is surprised to see that the team isn’t utilizing y/n more, or at least using her old choreography. The youngest member mostly shared the center with another member, yet was never the main focus. The only highlight she really has is after Audrey’s articulated arch, where she runs to lead the line for a brief second, her expressions and energy being what makes her stand out. The look in her eyes and the slight smirk make everyone go crazy over the visuals and stage presence.

“THAT’S MY GIRL” Bada is leaning over her teammates screaming the loudest anyone has heard her scream. Her teammates just give her the same side eye they always do whenever she starts openly fangirling over y/n. But they all have just learned to ignore it for the most part now. Jam Republic finishes their routine and are all breathing heavily as they bow and walk back to their seats. While everyone’s still clapping and the members are about to sit down, Bada discreetly lifts up her fist right when y/n is about to walk by. The younger just smirks, trying not to laugh at the older girl’s silly yet supportive action, and bumps her smaller fist against Bada’s. 

The rehearsal finishes and the following day is the pre-recording and live performance. All the teams are once again getting their makeup done, this time sharing a room with their members.

“I can’t believe we’ve been here so long already and this is only the first mission we get to do together” Latriece states while getting her eyeshadow done. The others hum and some nod.

“It feels like we’ve been here forever, but it’s actually only been a couple of months…” y/n replies as her stylist applies a gemstone to her under eye.

“Only? I feel like these have been the longest two months of my life.” Emma exaggerates in return, causing a few of the members to hum more aggressively than before. They finished up with getting their makeup done and in typical y/n fashion, the first thing she did was start taking mirror selfies. At first, she was taking them by herself, and then of course Audrey joined… then Ling joined, and soon after that it was all of Jam Republic scrunched together trying to fit in the frame of one mirror. After that, Latrice offered to take more elaborate pictures for her, knowing how the young girl loves to pose and post. Once all that is done, they have a few minutes before having to head backstage for the pre-filming. Y/n doesn’t even think twice before opening her messages app and sending Bada a few of the selfies she took, along with some of the full-body pics Latrice had taken for her.

Bada’s finishing up in hair and makeup when she feels her phone buzz. Already getting her hopes up at the familiar hum of her text notification, she can’t help but expect a message from a certain Jam Republic member. Sure enough- when she unlocks her phone, she’s met with a series of selfies and other photos of the youngest member, dressed in pink and white with glittery makeup. Bada doesn’t even feel herself smile, she’s so lost in a dream over the pretty girl on her phone. 

‘Absolutely stunning, Princess🩷’ she presses send without even thinking. Y/n hearted the message and sent the hand heart emoji right as Bada was about to be done with her hair. As soon as the stylists step away the Bebe leader is opening her camera and snapping her own mirror selfies, immediately sending her favorites to y/n.

‘Ugh how do you always look SO fucking good😩🩵’ was the response Bada got almost instantaneously from the younger girl, to which she giggled and covered her mouth with her fist trying to hide her smile. Hearing the soft sound Lusher looked over and sighed affectionately at her blushing teammate.

“Did y/n text you?” she asked, already knowing the answer. Bada looked over with wide eyes, a bit shocked forgetting that everyone else could still perceive her in the present moment.

“Oh- uhm…” the eldest tried to be cool and calm, attempting to avoid the conversation, but just as soon as her walls went up, they came right back down.

“yeah… she did” and she was giggling and smiling again, causing Lusher to burst out laughing at her leader’s openness. It was a relief to the younger girl to see Bada so relaxed and at peace, even though they still had to go out and compete in a few hours. Seeing one of her closest friends and now team leader act the way she did with and around y/n made her feel okay, knowing that there was someone to take care of her just like how she had been taking care of them.

___________

Before the pre-recordings start an announcement is played on the monitors. It’s a member or group of members from each company, declaring who they thought was the better team during their practice. Le Sserafim chose Jam Republic as the better team, meaning they got to choose whether they went first or second during the live show- they chose to go second after Mannequeen.

During the practice/filming period- everything started out well for Jam Republic. They were all laughing and having a blast watching the other crews. They all casually made fun of wolf’lo for their uhm… “hip-hop look”… and ended up delving into a slightly more serious conversation about how crazy it is that level of cultural appropriation is still going on in 2023- the durags were already too much... whoever was styling these girls needed to get FIRED. After Mannequeen had gone it was finally their turn.

The recording started off really well until all of a sudden Latrice was on the ground, unable to get up. Y/n was right next to her when it happened, watching her go down. She stopped dancing immediately to make sure the older girl was okay and to see if she could get up. After a few moments, the team realized Latrice wasn’t going to be able to get up on her own any time soon and she was rushed to the hospital. The members halted their filming and headed back to their hideout. The members are holding it together surprisingly well at first, mostly just in shock at the situation. Audrey is the first to start crying, and it hits everyone else like a truck. Y/n is by her side in seconds, cuddling and trying to soothe her. Ling is next to start tearing up and shortly after y/n even sees Emma shed a tear. The youngest is able to hold it together until she looks up to see her leader crying. That’s when y/n feels the tears start falling uncontrollably, as she tucks her head into Audrey’s shoulder and silently cries. 

“Is there an option we just forfeit?” Kirsten asks the staff, wiping her tears. Once Y/n hears this she picks up her head immediately and the look in her eyes is one of heartbreak and the poor girl seems terrified by the idea of giving up. The staff explains that if they were to forfeit it would immediately put them in last place, meaning they’d be up for elimination. This news caused them all to fall back into tears, completely lost on what to do. After what felt like half a day, Latrice came back with a boot on her leg. The other members immediately rushed to her side and helped her sit down.

“Basically I just have to ice it for a few hours and then I’m allowed to dance on it for the performance, but after that, I’m gonna have to rest for a while.” she had explained to them, as her team all watch over her with worried eyes. She then began talking to them about how Redlic was also in the hospital at the same time as her. The others were amused but y/n just rolled her eyes.

“Of course she was” the young girl mumbled, not at all surprised with the show’s resident drama queen. Latrice looked over and shook her with a laugh, then proceeded to joke about how she was starting to see Redlic as her soulmate instead of her rival, which ended up making y/n somewhat emotional again.

After a few hours of recovery, Jam Republic quickly shot their pre-recording of the routine and went back to get some touchups done on their makeup as the audience started pouring in. After about an hour and a half of anticipation, the live performance began. All the girls could hear the audience from backstage, and some even from their dressing rooms. It made them all even more hyped to perform. 

TsubaKill does their performance first and everyone is blown away by how aggressive yet clean they are with their movements. When it’s Bebe’s turn y/n can feel her nerves increase by two hundred percent. The girl was already nervous, but knowing that Tatter had been struggling intensely with a few points really made y/n’s heart hurt for the other team. But her nerves quickly dissipated as she watched the blond stick her double front handspring, in fact- she was up and screaming immediately. 

“LETS FUCKING GO TATTER” is the small girl’s immediate reaction. She’s standing on the couch in her crew’s waiting room, screaming with the rest of her team. y/n briefly calms down for a moment and brings herself to sit next to and cling to Emma, who pats her head and laughs.

“I feel like I’m gonna cry I’m so proud of her.” and the excitement only increases as the performance goes on. There’s one moment where they all point at someone in the crowd, and when it happens the camera pans to Bada, charismatically pointing and smirking, which has y/n’s jaw dropping to the floor and all of her members immediately looking her way to catch her reaction. No one says a word until y/n looks around to meet eyes with all of them. She holds up her hand and closes her eyes, pretending to cry.

“Enough.” is all she says yet it has her members bursting out in laughter. Minah is the next victim of Jam Republic’s inhumane screams of support, when she does her jerky laugh move, once again sending them all spiraling. Especially y/n and Audrey who are now standing on the couch again, clinging to each other for dear life. And then of course, y/n pretends to faint when Bada does her peek through the other members before the end half of the song. Emma smacks her on the side of the head, asking her politely (sarcastically) to pull herself together. Bebe finishes their routine and all the members are standing in the middle of their room cheering and clapping like maniacs.

Shortly after the JYP match, Mannequeen went first during the Hybe competition and for the first time, y/n is actually nervous for herself to compete. The other team had done really well and even adjusted accordingly to the choreography Jam Republic had given them. When it was time for the pink team themselves to finally perform, y/n took a deep breath and put on her game face- ready to go. The music started and she instantly felt herself become immersed in their doll-like theme. She and Ling had taken the center for the intro, already bringing the story to life. The audience loved them and so did the other crews. Bada really did try her best to focus on the dance as a whole and was able to when y/n wasn’t seen on the screen, but any other time her eyes were focused on the youngest member.

“I’m really surprised they didn’t utilize y/n more…” Minah shares with her group after the performance ends. To which Bada explained that the girl told her how she had wanted to help mostly behind the scenes for this one instead of taking the spotlight, as she’s not the only one on Jam Republic that can look good doing kpop choreo. They all ‘ahh’ed and nodded, adding yet another thing to the list of reasons they all admire y/n l/n. 

When it’s revealed that Jam Republic won y/n bursts into tears and collapses on the ground, but she immediately gets up and hugs Latrice and they’re just crying together. The rest of the teams compete and the day ends as a success for half and a learning experience for the others.

Not even getting a day to rest and recover, the first elimination occurs the next day. Everyone once again files into the fight zone, taking their seats and waiting for filming to start. The first two battles to be announced were SM and YG, resulting in 1 Million and LadyBounce securing their safety from elimination. Next was JYP- Bebe versus TsubaKill.

“There’s no way Bebe will be up for elimination…” y/n starts off although she feels her stomach turning. Her teammates hum and nod as they focus their eyes on the screen in front of them, awaiting the results. But they all gasp when the scores are revealed.

“I didn’t think it would be that bad…” Audrey whispers with sad eyes. All of the members slowly turn to catch TsubaKill’s reaction to being up for elimination. They were surprisingly calm, still smiling and nodding peacefully. Bada had spoken about how she was proud of her team for pulling through but got choked up at the end, wishing their opponent good luck in the final battle.

When it came down to Mannequeen versus Jam Republic everyone was just about ready to throw up because they were so nervous.

“I actually have no clue how this is going to go… I have such an awful feeling about this” y/n’s shaking her head and hiding her face in her hands. The screen reveals that even though Jam Republic had won the judges' votes, Mannequeen won the audience points, and the whole pink team tensed up. They all join hands and hold onto each other as they await the final score. When it came, their shoulder sagged and they all let out a heavy breath. Jam Republic wins by a hair.

As the final team score is announced, the host reveals the final ranking with Bebe in first and Jam Republic in fourth. TsubaKill and Wolf’Lo had the two lowest ranks, so now their teams were going up against each other for one final match to determine who was going home.

The first of what would be five battles began, crew versus crew. Y/n’s already fangirling over Tsubakill, especially Akanen

“She’s so mommy-“ “I need you to actually shut the fuck up” (yet another classic argument between Jam Republic’s designated Tom & Jerry duo, Y/n and Emma). Meanwhile, Bada is just as excited but is more in favor of Wolf’lo, really enjoying their classic hip-hop dance style. Tsubakill takes the first win and everyone flips, but the second battle between them has y/n heated.

“Why the fuck is she tripping her and getting all up in her space… that’s so juvenile” She was outraged when Baby Sleek won, always hating when dancers got too touchy with each other during battles, but especially when they were dancing at the same time and one of the dancers got too reckless- aka Baby Sleek.

The leaders battle next and Jam Republic is heavily rooting for Akanen, especially y/n.

“If Akanen doesn’t win, I’m leaving” the youngest member dramatically expressed with her arms crossed, tapping her food comedically, causing her members to laugh. 

“Oh so you’ve moved on from one team leader to the next already?” Emma teases and causes y/n’s jaw to drop and her eyebrows to furrow in defense. The duo battle was another hard-to-watch experience for her, as she felt that Wolf’Lo didn’t deserve the win for simply rolling around on the floor. Then the final group battle happened. Y/n absolutely loved TsubaKill’s performance, but it upset her to say that Wolf’Lo’s was slightly more put together.

When wolf’Lo takes the final win y/n’s head immediately hangs in defeat. She’s able to avoid crying until Rena starts speaking and they’re both instantly in tears. Once they’re told to leave the fight zone, y/n rushes down the seats and runs straight to Rena engulfing her in a huge hug. The two had become close ever since the class battle mission, and it hurt to see such a talented and kind-hearted friend go so soon. After they had all said their goodbyes and TsubaKill went back to their hideout for one final time to pack up their things, the rest continued to cry and try to pull themselves together. After about 45 minutes, each team took turns going up to say goodbye to the red team, truly not ready to let go of the newfound friends they all had made. TsubaKill turned off their sign and left, then the cameras stopped rolling for the day. 

Each crew was back in their own hideout now, just discussing the events of the last few days and how they could relax briefly since they all survived the first elimination. Jam Republic’s room was eerily quiet as the small team with such big hearts sat heartbroken still. Y/n didn’t look herself, eyes tired and face puffy, and oh how it made her members feel even more upset knowing their youngest member took every blow straight to the heart- yet she never let that truly impact her as a person, always taking on every new situation with a bright smile and open-mind.

“How’re you holdin' up mama?” Kirsten asked, gently rubbing the young girl’s shoulder. Her lip quivered and she started to tear up again before leaning forward and hiding her face in her hands.

“This is so much harder than I thought it was gonna be.” Y/n cries into her hands, shoulders shaking as she sobbed. Kirsten just continued to rub circles on her back until she calmed down. Once she finally did manage to stop crying, the younger girl sat up and ran a hand through her hair, suddenly seeming a tiny bit more alive than before. She looked around at all her members and stopped at Emma.

“Fuck this shit.” she declared confidently and the members couldn’t help but chuckle and shake their heads, forever impressed by how unpredictable the girl will always be. She throws her head back to rest against the back of the sofa in their room. A few moments of silence pass then there's a knock on their door. Ling, who is sitting closest to it, stands up and opens the door, revealing a slightly-somber-looking Bada Lee. once she realizes all eyes are on her, the tall girl’s eyes widen and she clears her throat. Before anyone can even say anything y/n is up and moving. 

“Hey, what’s up?” she whispers as she meets the older girl in the doorway. Bada stutters for a second before taking a breath.

“I just wanted to come check on you… I know you take these things pretty hard.” she had clarified with a sympathetic comforting smile, causing y/n to smile slightly as well.

“Well thank you… how are you holding up?” she asked in return with her signature puppy eyes. Bada tilted her head for a second, thinking about how she wanted to word her sentence. 

“I think I just need to keep moving. Of course I’m upset about it, but I feel for me personally I just have to keep working… there isn’t any time to rest-” she starts and sees Y/n take a deep breath, knowing the young girl is about to reprimand her for not taking care of herself.

“But-” she continues, holding up her hands in defense, causing the girl across from her to sigh and cross her arms expectantly.

“I actually want to take the time I have and enjoy it… maybe with someone?” Bada had finished her statement with a question, hinting that she very much wanted to spend her free time with the smaller girl in front of her. Y/n matched her cheesy smile and looked over her shoulder to see her teammates staring (per usual). Kirsten and Latrice looked at each other for a second, having a silent conversation, before looking back towards the two in the doorway and nodding with a thumbs up. Y/n looked back at the tall girl in front of her and smiled brightly.

“Are you free now?” she asked, and Bada held out her hand for y/n to take, which she did. The two already grinning like lovesick idiots.

“For you I am.”

note: sorry this part took so long!! i hope everyone enjoys it- next part is gonna be the pool party episode omg yay lol

taglist (open): @tinybada @angel-hyuckie @violetinferno @jesuschrist2006 @1luvkarina @uwulyn @justandloyal2961 @deadgirlwalking3 @heeheemich @squidvoldyvoid @vivzyo @ouhaika @jksjx @ocyeanicc @marianamartinsthings @jxrdxnh @luvjanexx @lorenztired @khjssss @heavenlycloud @loisje123 @starchasermyloves @zhivaxo @grinnwolph @notyourd0lly @stinkbvgs @nermandiiiii-blog @abllucena @arujee @idontknownemore @thatgayinsomniac @l-a-u-r-a--b @fruitr0llup @cgriffin9797-blog @woooooya @kaaylvst @ssc7514 @astoreea @linda-botello @kpopgirl-97 @erikook @majookim @okjaeminn @misszoldyc

[ginnsbaker]

In Losing Grip On Sinking Ships (9/22)

Chapter summary: Several weeks later, an unfortunate situation drives Wanda to seek you out, only to be met with someone she least expects.

Chapter word count: 9k

Pairing: Wanda x Reader, Yelena x Reader (heavy in this chapter)

Author's note: And we start the second phase :)

Next chapter: Ten

AO3 | Masterlist 

Taglist: @blackluthxr | @esposadejoyhuerta | @secretbackrooms | @justgotlizzied , @casquinhaa | @marvelwomen-simp | @sunsol-22 | @wandanatlov3r | @kyaraderuwez | @justyourwritter69 | @stanolsevans | @aliherreraaa | @diaryoflife

-

Nine

Five Weeks Later

“By the power invested in me, by the State of New York, I now pronounce you husband and wife.” The minister reads from his pamphlet without as much as a glance to the enamored audience.

Wanda hadn’t known that she was going to attend a wedding near the start of autumn; if she had, she’d have been more than ready with an ensemble that’s appropriate for both the event and the cold season. To be fair, Pietro hadn’t known either. Just a week ago, Shannon surprised him with a date, a venue, and a business card of some designer that she commissioned to provide Pietro’s suit for the ceremony. Wanda might have considered it a trap if it hadn't been for the fact that Pietro was the one on his knees with a ring a year ago. Shannon had simply grown tired of his excuses and took matters into her own hands. Wanda still thinks it’s a colossal mistake but his history with women and commitments tracks. She just wants to know how many more of these she’ll have to attend for the rest of her life. 

“You may kiss the–”  

The minister is cut off by Pietro diving in for a sloppy kiss, and the small crowd of thirty people cheer the newly weds. Wanda claps for the sake of being a good attendant. She almost feels sorry for Shannon, but if she wanted this, she probably wanted it for the wrong reasons. 

And, well, karma is a bitch.

Having been sober for exactly thirty-two days, Wanda’s been nursing the same mocktail she’s had before the start of the program, and she finds it difficult to enjoy anything that’s watered-down. A longing to light a cigarette tugs at her, but the establishment's strict no-smoking policy extends even to the outdoor gardens. Pietro asked that she stays until the party’s over, and knowing how much her presence means to him, she reluctantly agreed. 

“Stop brooding at my wedding, for god’s sake.”

It’s Shannon, dressed in her second gown, a simpler one that makes it hard to tell her apart from her bridesmaids.

"Hi, Shannon," Wanda drawls, swirling the tiny ice left in her rocks glass.

"It's Mrs. Maximoff now," Shannon mutters proudly, displaying both her wedding and engagement rings.

Wanda hides her grimace behind her drink. “Try not to get used to it though. I’m pretty sure you’re aware that there had been two other Mrs. Maximoffs in his past.”

“Don’t sass me on my wedding day, it’s just disrespectful.”

“Point taken. I’d offer to get you a drink, but I think that’s just gonna push the stick further up your ass.” 

Shannon sourly responds with one of her signature fake smiles, but Wanda can see through the facade. She takes pride in having hit a nerve.

Taking the seat next to her, much to Wanda's dismay, Shannon changes the subject. "Anyway, your ex-wife is doing exceptionally well at our company. She's managed to turn around all the bad practices that have been going on for ages."

Wanda’s brows stitch together in confusion. “Your company?”

“Stark Industries.” Shannon says, taking a sip of Wanda’s untouched water.

The revelations throw her off. You didn't appear too thrilled when Wanda saw you right after your interview, so she had assumed you either didn’t get the position or you passed up on the opportunity. But what surprised her even more was discovering that someone like Shannon held a high-ranking position at a popular tech company–which now explains where the extreme confidence comes from.

Shannon smirks. “Don’t look so surprised that I work for the number one company in the world.” 

“Number one?” Wanda scoffs, rubbing her nose with her middle finger. “Hardly. And why are you keeping tabs on her?”

“She works in my department and I interviewed her. She was a disaster, by the way,” Shannon says. “But her references were solid. I mean, Scott Lang? I hired her solely by his recommendation.”

Wanda can't help but smile at the mention of Scott, reminiscent of the old days when she used to host dinners for your boss and your co-workers. She doesn’t, however, dwell this time about the people you’ve brought with you when you walked out of her life. The reality is, people take sides, and rightfully, they have chosen yours. 

"I'm happy for her. She's brilliant and hardworking. You won't regret having her on your team," Wanda says softly, her voice a little bittersweet; she remembers a time when she used to be the first one to know every little thing about you, and it's a feeling she misses.

“Why do I get the feeling that you’re hearing this just now?” Shannon smacks her lips together and then fixes her lipstick that has stained the rim of her drink. “I thought I saw you at our lobby right after her interview.” Shannon gives her a knowing look, her eyes filled with a mix of satisfaction and malice. It's as if she's perfectly aware of the unspeakable things you did to Wanda that day.

"Y-You did?" Wanda stammers, her blood rushing to her face.

“I assumed you were seeing each other again. You looked like a lost little housewife in your little jeans and little shirt.”

“I stopped by to bring her food. I didn’t know I had to dress up for that.”

“How sweet,” Shannon says, though her tone is barely mocking. “Well, if you’re not back together, then I have a piece of information you might find useful.”

Wanda leans back on her chair and crosses her arms in front of her. “And what makes you think I’m interested?”

“Because despite my wrong assumptions earlier, it’s clear that you’re still head over heels in love with her,” Shannon says. “Or am I wrong?”

Wanda looks away and takes a sip of her watered-down mocktail and tries to hide the displeasure on her face. 

Shannon takes this as her cue to continue. “She recently changed her address in our database. I know because those things usually undergo my approval.”

You moved out? Wanda hadn't attempted to contact you, but while running errands for her cafe, she had found herself in your area a couple of times. Each time, she observed that your curtains were drawn and the lights in the living room were always turned off.

Wanda looks on quietly as Shannon reaches into her purse, retrieves an eye pencil, and grabs a napkin from the table. With deliberate movements, she begins to scribble on the napkin.

“Here,” Shannon hands Wanda the napkin with your address scrawled neatly on it. “You’re welcome.”

Wanda hesitantly accepts it, and then asks, “Why are you doing this?”

"Maybe I'm a hopeless romantic," Shannon shrugs, though the glint in her eye betrays her nonchalant demeanor. It almost penetrates Wanda’s defenses, but then she says, “Or I’m supporting your unhealthy obsession knowing it won’t lead anywhere.”

Wanda finds herself laughing. Unlike Pietro, Shannon had never treated Wanda delicately, even after her hospitalization. She finds it oddly refreshing and, in a peculiar way, endearing.

Shannon adopts a small, awkward smile herself. 

“Fair enough.” Wanda says, folding the napkin carefully before putting it inside her bag.

Shannon gets up and runs her palms over the creases on her gown. “Good luck, Wanda. I’m sure you’ll be needing a lot of it.” 

Pietro finds her in the gardens, rubbing her arms to keep herself warm. The nighttime breeze isn’t particularly chilly, but Wanda’s always been susceptible to the cold regardless of the season. He looks particularly dashing in the dark blue suit that Shannon picked for him; and with his hair back to its natural brunette color, the similarities between them have become uncanny once again.

“Sorry about that.” Pietro mutters as he approaches.

Wanda tilts her head at him, a playful smile dancing on her lips. "Sorry about what?" she quips, her voice laced with humor. "You mean this wedding?"

Pietro laughs and then shakes his head. “I saw you talking to Shannon and I could tell you weren’t having the best time.”

Wanda doesn't hold back as she speaks her mind. "She's still a bitch," she says bluntly, not mincing her words. "No offense."

“Do I hear fondness in the way you said ‘bitch’?” 

“Not a chance.”

“Between me and her, you forget I’m actually the asshole, right? I know she told you I cheated on her countless times.” Pietro says, somewhat seriously.

“You are,” Wanda says. “But I stand by what I said.”

Pietro sighs. “Anyway, I’m not here to negotiate how you feel towards my wife. I’m here to say goodbye.”

Wanda sobers at that. She’s been so used to having her brother in the same city, a call and a cab away. 

“You’re returning to LA?”

“The day after tomorrow.” Pietro confirms with a nod. 

“Doesn’t she work at Stark Industries?”

“Oh, did I tell you that?” 

“She told me a while ago.” Wanda says.

“She can work remotely,” Pietro explains. “And she prefers doing that from our home in LA.”

The wind begins to pick up, its gentle breeze evolving into a stronger gust. The air becomes alive, stirring the surroundings and causing leaves to dance and swirl in a mesmerizing display. 

Wanda sweeps her hair back from her face, and asks, “Tell me, honestly, why did you stay here for so long? Even before the–” Wanda finds herself having difficulty naming the accident she had more than a month ago. 

But if there’s something she’s learned from therapy so far, it’s that confronting her inner demons requires acknowledging their existence.

“Before my overdose.” Wanda finishes, managing to keep her tone even.

Pietro regards her with a tender look that conveys his immense pride in her recent growth and progress.

“At first, I just wanted to check in on you,” he says, fiddling with the cuffs of his suit. “And when I saw you and the cafe, I thought ‘see, she doesn’t need you’. But at the same time I also realized it was me–I needed you.”

Pietro pauses and rubs the back of his neck–something he does a lot when he’s trying not to be emotional. 

"I missed you, Wands. These past few months, I've felt more like myself than I have in years. I know I'm free to visit you anytime, even when you and Y/N were still together, but it's just not the same when–"

“–when it’s just us.” Wanda finishes for him, her voice thick with emotions that her brother is trying so hard to hold at bay.

“Yeah. I had a really great time with you here, it was good to be home after so many years.”

“LA is your home.” Wanda reminds him. 

"You're my family, Wands," Pietro says, wrapping an arm around her and giving her a warm side hug. "You're my home too."

“I love you, Piet.” 

“I love you too, sis,” Pietro says. “I’m rooting for you–your happiness. Whether it’s with Y/N or someone else or no one. You deserve to be happy. You have a big heart–I know this because you love me just as I am.”

“Then why don’t you just stay here so we can be close to each other all the time?” Wanda sniffs. So many losses. So many changes. Wanda craves normalcy and consistency–things you used to provide in her life with your steady presence.

“Shannon’s family lives in LA, and we’ve already talked about settling there once we’re married.”

Wanda shakes her head, smiling in contempt.

Pietro notices the change in her demeanor and starts rubbing her arm in comfort. “Don’t blame Shannon for this. I suggested it because she’s more comfortable living there if we’re going to start a family.”

“You’re already talking about babies? Piet, that’s a huge step.” she says.

Pietro falls into a thoughtful silence, weighing the decision of whether to share the news with Wanda now or wait a little longer. However, the anticipation and joy of becoming a father soon overpowers his doubts.

With a burst of excitement, he finally speaks up. "Actually, she's pregnant."

"Wow," Wanda exclaims, embracing him tightly, more than thrilled at the news. But as suspicion creeps in, she pulls away abruptly. "Hold on, is that why you rushed into marriage? Because she's pregnant?"

“No. She actually just told me last night, as a wedding gift.” Pietro says. 

“I’m going to be an aunt?” Wanda giggles. “I mean, congratulations! You’re going to be a dad!”

"Thank you, Wands," Pietro says, returning the hug.

Wanda pauses for a moment, a realization dawning on her. "I should stop being mean to her," she admits.

Pietro chuckles. "My advice is to take everything she says or does with a grain of salt."

Wanda's expression softens. "I'm going to miss you, you know? Your future kid, and, fuck it–even Shannon. I'll try to visit this Christmas, okay?"

"You better. I already got you plane tickets."

“Oh, and Piet?”

“Yep?”

“I’ll cut your balls off if you cheat on your wife again this time. Not because she’s having your child, but because it’s… not normal. It’s fucked up. We’re fucked up. The stakes are higher for you now, but even if it wasn’t, it just ruins everything in its wake. it's the biggest regret of my life," Wanda states firmly. Although she feels like a hypocrite as the words escape her lips, she feels compelled to express her feelings in the hope that it carries some weight.

“I know,” Pietro says, looking down at his feet. “I’ve been seeing a professional for two months now.”

“You are?”

Pietro smiles and takes Wanda’s hand, leading her back inside the reception. “Where do you think I got your therapist from?”

***

"You've really nailed it with this restaurant choice," Natasha exclaims at you, her fork stabbing into the juicy medium-rare steak. Her mouth waters as the meat releases its flavorful juices. She’s sitting to your left and Yelena’s right, and when you haven’t developed a psychic link with your partner yet, navigating a delicate situation feels like a sailor and a pilot has come together to figure out how a tractor works. 

Natasha had phoned you earlier today, informing you that her flight from Washington D.C. was scheduled to depart in a mere two hours. This left you with approximately three hours to prepare for her arrival, as well as to have a conversation with Yelena on how you’re both going to break the news to her unsuspecting sister. However, due to Yelena's demanding work schedule, it was difficult to abruptly pull her away from her assignment and so you took it upon yourself to organize this impromptu dinner. 

Your girlfriend, in a state of panic, had only just read your texts an hour ago and arrived late. Since then, there has been absolutely zero opportunity to discuss what your relationship entails for Natasha.

Delaying the inevitable, you focus on other topics.

“So, how was your flight?” you ask Natasha.

“Quick.” 

“When did you find out you’re coming home?” you inquire, eyebrows wiggling at Yelena, attempting to seek her support in engaging in the conversation

“The other day.” Natasha says.

“How do you like your steak?”

Natasha gives you a funny look.

Shifting in your seat uncomfortably, you try to think of more questions to ask, but Yelena beats you to it.

“We’ve been seeing each other.” she announces over her plate of untouched meatballs. 

Your eyes widen in alarm as you look at Yelena, but she nonchalantly shrugs at you, then whispers, "I thought that's what you were trying to tell me with your eyes."

Natasha serenely savors her steak, taking a graceful sip of wine before responding, "Yes, I'm aware."

Surprised, you murmur, "How did you...?"

With a hint of amusement, Natasha replies, "If I were to reveal my skills, I would be violating at least ten pages of a non-disclosure agreement."

"Right," Yelena huffs, a feeling of ease finally settling over her. She indulges in her own plate, eagerly digging in and savoring each bite.

“You know,” You start, shoulders dropping and feeling some of the tension leave your body. “I thought I’m used to what you do, but it’s still weird that you disappear for several weeks and then you come back like,” you snap your fingers. “And we can’t ask you questions.”

“It’s why I love my job so much. People are literally not allowed to ask questions,” Natasha says with a satisfied smirk, dabbing her lips with a napkin. “But I can. So, how did this happen?” she says, motioning between you and Yelena with her finger.

“Didn’t you already know?” you say with a teasing smile. 

Natasha fixes you with a piercing gaze, the kind she typically reserves for her job, making you retreat but not before a nervous gulp catches in your throat.

"Yelena?" she prompts, noticing the uncharacteristic silence.

“I, uh–”

"Hotdog sandwich," you blurt out abruptly, interrupting Yelena's non-existent train of thought, while your mind drifts back to the night when you and Yelena officially started dating. Two pairs of eyes fixate on you, their faces a mix of surprise and bewilderment, as if questioning your sanity. Realizing the awkwardness of your outburst, you quickly clear your throat and gather yourself to continue, "I asked her out one night, shortly after I started my new job, and we kind of just decided to give it a shot while eating a hotdog."

When you look up, Yelena’s eyes carry a fondness, effectively deepening the blush on your cheeks.

“That’s a nice story, Y/N, but I didn’t mean literally. More like… how did you arrive at the decision to be together?” Natasha says, her gaze on you unwavering. You avoid her eyes, suddenly determined to finish the remaining vegetables in your dish.

“It came to us organically, Nat. I don’t know how to explain it without sounding a bit cheesy.” Yelena says. 

“I don’t mind cheesy. Cheesy is good. Love is often cheesy, right?” Natasha says, her gaze directed at you. The mention of the word 'love' catches you off guard, and you almost choke on your peas. Although you feel it deep in your heart that you love Yelena, neither of you have actually said those words to each other.

Yelena nods, her expression serious. "Okay, then. It happened because we still have deep feelings for each other, and we felt it was necessary to give it a chance."

You smile, fully understanding and appreciating Yelena's sentiment. "I agree." 

“Can I speak to Y/N in private?” She tells Yelena, who just shrugs, and then turning to you, Natasha says, “Is that okay?”

“Sure.” you reply, rising from your seat.

You and Natasha emerge from the cozy Italian restaurant, deciding to take a leisurely walk through the neighborhood. The rain has just subsided, leaving behind glistening streets and puddles that dot the pavement, making each step a bit precarious. The dampness in the air seems to mirror the tension in your chest, and you can't shake off the feeling that this walk holds more weight than just enjoying the post-rain atmosphere. The droplets on the ground reflect the streetlights, creating a mesmerizing shimmer that momentarily distracts you from your unease. 

Yet, as you walk alongside Natasha, the silence between you only heightens your anticipation for the impending "sister talk." 

You value your friendship with Natasha deeply, and the prospect of jeopardizing that bond fills you with uncertainty. 

Just as your pulse falls into a steadier rhythm, Natasha breaks the silence, her voice filled with a sense of pride. "I'm proud of you," she declares. "Honestly, I half-expected to return and find you still unemployed, living in my apartment. But look at you now: a new job, a new place... and a new girlfriend," she adds, without a trace of animosity in her words.

“I was the crutch you had to get rid of after all.” Natasha says. 

You laugh nervously at the ‘girlfriend’ remark, appreciating the genuine support from your best friend. "I suppose I relied on you heavily after my divorce," you admit. "It was easy to succumb to self-pity and a meaningless routine because you were there to take care of me. Eventually, I knew I was rotting away no matter how indulgent these Netflix shows are,” you laugh a little. “And well, things simply worked out, you know?”

“Yeah, I can see that it worked out pretty well with my sister.” Natasha quips.

"I care about her, Nat. I always have." you say, coming to a stop to face Natasha and properly look her in the eye.

Natasha nods and takes hold of your elbow, urging you to continue walking. "I know," she acknowledges, a knowing smile touching the corners of her lips. "She may not have shown it earlier, but she’s giddy as fuck. Kind of grosses me out seeing her eyeing you like a piece of candy.”

“But kidding aside, you have my blessing.” Natasha says, and you give her a soft smile in return.

A slight pang of guilt tugs at your heart as you decide not to mention your encounters with Wanda. You understand why Natasha requested this private conversation, and you don't wish to complicate matters by bringing up the brief rupture caused by your connection with Wanda. You and Yelena had reached a mutual understanding regarding Wanda, recognizing that your current relationship should not be overshadowed by your past with your ex-wife. 

Besides, you haven’t talked to Wanda since you and Yelena entered into a relationship. Things have been going well; consequently, you see no justifiable reason to stir up any unnecessary complications or rock the boat.

But nobody reads you the way Natasha does, as she brings up the person you’ve been trying to forget all this time.

“And Wanda? Is that over?”

Lying to Natasha is akin to attempting to deceive a lie detector machine; there’s just no way out of it but the truth–or at least some of it.

“We were briefly in touch,” you admit, carefully filtering the story in your mind as you speak. "Coincidentally, she happened to be at the same club where Clint organized your going-away party."

Natasha raises an eyebrow; you read her well enough too, and it tells you that she hadn’t had an inkling that Wanda had reentered your life at one point.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Natasha asks, the level of her tone masking how she feels about that new information.

“Because you hate her?” You say, daring her to deny it but Natasha only rolls her eyes. “And, uh, I don’t know… Maybe because I knew you’d be disappointed?”

Natasha takes a deep breath, the crisp evening air filling her lungs as she gathers her thoughts. "Did I," she begins, "did I push you into making choices in the past that you weren't entirely comfortable with?"

"Why would you say that?" you inquire, puzzled by Natasha's question.

Natasha's gaze softens, and she replies with earnest sincerity, "Because I never wanted you to feel like you couldn't be completely open with me about anything. I never wanted you to fear my judgment regarding your decisions."

You wonder if Natasha would say the same thing if she knew you had fallen into Wanda’s bed post-divorce. You think about how Natasha urged you to file for it in the first place, how she helped in preparing everything from finding a suitable lawyer to ironing out the details of the agreement. Despite your emotional state during that period, you acknowledge that you made those decisions and chose to take responsibility for them.

“You’re like family to me, Nat. Of course your opinion of me will always matter.” you say.

“I’m happy you stood by your decision without me,” Natasha says. “I was worried you’d go back to her as soon as I was gone.”

A nervous smile tugs at the corner of your lips as your eyes flit to anywhere but your best friend; the weight of deliberately concealing a significant portion of the story makes you want to crawl out of your skin. Now more than ever, you regret being with Wanda that way. It had every potential to jeopardize your friendship with Natasha.

“How about you and Bruce?” you say, taking the spotlight away from yourself.

Natasha’s smile is sad as she shakes her head. “That ship has sailed. For good.”

“I’m sorry.” you say.

“Don’t be. He can finally allow himself to be happy. He’s a good man. He deserves more than I can give him.”

“What about you?”

“I’d like to believe I deserve more than he’s willing to give,” Natasha says, her voice not harboring any resentment; but it’s clear that she has accepted the fact that their desires and needs diverged, leading them down separate paths. 

“Are you happy?” you ask suddenly, widely curious.

Natasha takes a moment to reflect, her eyes scanning the surroundings. "As happy as I can be," she contemplates. "I've learned that life shouldn't solely revolve around falling in love, you know? I have my work, my sister, my friends, and well, you're not that bad either," she adds with a light-hearted chuckle.

Turning the last corner back to the restaurant, you both bump into Yelena who’s wearing a frown after being left for so long.

“You were both gone for a while already so I thought I’d settle the bill and join you guys for a walk.” Yelena says. “You guys are okay, right?”

“Of course, why wouldn’t we be?” you say, taking her hand and interlacing your fingers together.

Natasha ignores Yelena’s question and says, “How much do I owe you for the food?” 

Yelena pushes the receipt in her sister’s hand and says, “Everything.”

Settling beside Yelena on the bed, you reach for the lamp on your nightstand and switch it off. The room is cast in a soft, bluish glow, as the moon's radiance filters through the blinds. It hasn’t been too long since you and Yelena started sharing this room, and despite initially intending to take things slow, the pace of your relationship accelerated naturally. With busy careers, it felt right to embrace the opportunity to spend more time together without the added complexities of planning and scheduling dates.

“It was weird introducing you to Nat as my girlfriend,” Yelena says, turning on her side to face you as soon as your head hits the pillow.

"I think you handled that quite smoothly," you say with a quiet chortle, the sarcasm failing to come across as strongly as intended.

"You were absolutely perfect though," Yelena whispers, her hand gently cupping your cheek as she pulls you in for a kiss. It begins with a slow, tentative pace, reminiscent of the other kisses you have shared since becoming a couple. 

Tonight, however, there's an undeniable intensity in Yelena's kisses that sends a fiery sensation rippling through your body. Her touch, tracing the skin below your belly button, ignites a rush of heat that intertwines with the passion of the moment. With your hands threaded in her hair, you boldly deepen the kiss, your tongue exploring the depths of her mouth, eliciting a surprised moan that you eagerly swallow.

As Yelena's fingers venture past the waistband of your underwear, a sudden jolt of surprise shoots through your body, causing you to abruptly sit upright. In the process, Yelena loses her balance and falls back onto the bed.

“Y/N?”

"Sorry," you stammer, attempting to calm your nerves and the racing of your heart. "I just remembered I have an important work email I haven't sent yet and..."

Yelena nods understandingly. "Yeah, sure. Go ahead. I've got some editing to do anyway."

You offer a grateful smile and lean in to press a tender kiss on her forehead. Then, you trail another moist kiss just below her ear, eliciting a soft sigh from Yelena's lips. 

“I’ll wait up, okay? Hurry,” Yelena purrs against your neck. 

“I’ll be back.” you say.

At half past midnight, you return to a snoring Yelena, her arm sprawled over the empty spot where you’re supposed to be. It was one email and you got carried away. And even if Yelena’s awake, you’re too exhausted to continue earlier’s steamy exchange.

Carefully, you remove her arm from your side of the bed and mold yourself to Yelena’s sleeping form. 

You haven’t had sex with her yet. The desire is there–a hot burning coal of it–and you have entertained the thought numerous times, but each time the moment draws near, you find yourself hesitant and not quite ready to take that step. It's a decision you have consciously made, respecting your own boundaries and wanting to ensure that the timing feels right for both of you.

Kissing the back of Yelena's head, you savor the softness of her hair against your lips. With a contented sigh, you nuzzle your nose into her locks, finding comfort in her presence as sleep gradually envelops you.

***

“Ms. Maximoff? Over here.”

Wanda looks up to find Sparky’s doctor motioning for her to come inside the check-up room. She gets up and hurries to where Sparky has disappeared into for almost twenty minutes now, and sees him hooked up to an IV, dozing off on his side. 

“Is he going to be okay?” Wanda asks immediately.

“The results of Sparky’s blood test don't look good. His liver is significantly higher than the normal range, and that could be the cause of his recent vomiting. For now, we’ll keep him confined here for one or two more days, depending on his condition, and if he’s responding to medication, you can continue giving them at home.”

“And what if he doesn’t respond to his medication?”

“We will conduct further tests to see what’s going on there. Surgery could be an option, depending on the outcome. While liver diseases in dogs can be treated and managed, there is always the possibility of expiration, I’m afraid.”

Expiration. Dogs have significantly shorter lives; Wanda knows this. But hearing it spoken so soon directly shatters Wanda’s heart. “W-What could have caused this?” she asks.

This is her fault, Wanda makes the conclusion, even before the doctor is done explaining the common causes in detail. She successfully fucked up another important thing in her life. 

In the absence of a little furry baby wagging its tail to greet her, Wanda returns home to a dark and empty apartment. Seeking solace, Wanda clings to the hopeful possibility that Sparky may return home in the next few days. 

Without bothering to turn on the lights, she kicks off her shoes and curls up into a ball on the couch. Her eyes slowly adjust to the darkness, eventually focusing on the small desk where the potted chrysanthemums you gifted her rest. The faint light casts a peculiar shadow on the wall, capturing her attention. Yet, it is the piece of napkin discreetly slipped beneath the pot that her mind is apprehensively fixated to; a thin, fragile thing that would ultimately lead her to you.

It has remained tucked away in Wanda's study, for a month now, as she couldn't bear to disrupt your life once again. She imagines that you are likely doing well, leading a quieter and less tumultuous existence without her. As for Wanda, she has been diligently working on herself, taking each day as it comes. However, the passage of time hasn't diminished her feelings for you, not even in the slightest. The void in her heart, shaped by your absence, remains steadfast, but she has learned to adapt and coexist with it, allowing herself to grow while carrying its weight.

And she wouldn't—not even for a moment—consider disturbing your peace if it weren't for the dog. If your roles were reversed, and you were the one keeping him, Wanda would undoubtedly want to be informed if his brief existence was endangered by an illness.

But then again, you've made your choice. You didn’t want anything to do with her. It was evident in your absence, when you stopped your visits to her apartment, her café; when Wanda's phone could no longer detect any recent online activity from you. You had simply vanished without a trace.

It would be unjust to intrude on your decision when you clearly didn't want to be found.

…And she’s still, quite literally, debating it when she finds herself at your doorstep an hour later.

Your new building looks lavish, Wanda can only imagine how much you’ve spent on the deposit alone. It was a little intimidating when she was asked to leave an ID and the receptionist had to ring your unit to inform you that you had a visitor–dropping her name to you in the process. More interesting than that, however, is that she gave Wanda the go signal to proceed to the elevators, meaning that you gave your consent for her to see you.

There's a sense of relief in realizing that you wouldn't go to the extent of turning her away just to avoid her altogether. She sets aside the questions that her heart desperately wants to ask, knowing they would only thwart the initial intention she has of seeing you.

She is fully aware of how guarded and cautious you were the last time; memories of her well-crafted plans to lure you and get close to you for the obvious reason of winning you back are still fresh in her mind. Wanda understands that she needs to approach this meeting with sensitivity and genuine concern, keeping her intentions clear and focused on Sparky's well-being.

But as she’s about to knock, the door swings open.

“Hi, I–” Wanda’s words die on her tongue and the nervous smile on her face fades into uncertainty.

Standing there, clad in nothing but a t-shirt (which she recognizes having bought it for you) that goes past her thighs, is the woman from the club. The woman who drew the curtains for you in your living room. Her blonde hair cascades in messy beach waves, framing her face and reaching her shoulders. 

She is breathtakingly beautiful. 

But what strikes Wanda the most is how effortlessly the woman seems to blend into the space, appearing more like a tenant than a mere guest who just happened to visit you at this particular time.

Does she live with you?

“Is Y/N home? I’m Wan–” 

"Wanda. I know. I’m Yelena," Yelena interrupts, her tone firm yet not unkind, like she’s struggling as much as the brunette. "She's still at work. Is there something you need from her?"

“You’re Yelena? Natasha’s sister?” Wanda asks.

Yelena nods tentatively, her eyes studying Wanda's reaction; she was surprised to get a call from the reception that a certain Wanda Maximoff wanted to come up to her unit. Despite the nagging question of whether you've been seeing Wanda all this time behind her back, she makes a conscious effort to maintain her composure in front of your ex-wife.

Meanwhile, something in Wanda's mind clicks. It's Yelena, not you, who allowed herself to go up to your floor. It's her, not you, who wanted to meet her. Wanda's mind races with questions. Does Yelena know about her? Did Yelena feel the need to introduce herself to your ex-wife?

"Uh..." Wanda's voice trembles with the onset of a panic attack. It turns out, coming here was a mistake, and she’s just grateful you’re not around to witness it. "I'm sorry. Please forget that I came here. Don't let her know I was here, please? I'm really sorry. I'll just go."

Yelena sucks in her cheeks as she reads into Wanda’s sudden panic. "Sure," she replies before softly closing the door on Wanda.

-

The nights are longer at Stark Industries. You knew what you signed up for when you accepted the job, but now you're starting to feel the repercussions. The stress is taking its toll not only on your work-life balance but also on your relationship with Yelena. You haven’t had dinner together recently, much less a conversation that lasted longer than a few exchanges of “how are you” and “I’m fine”. There’s a lot to make up for, but no date in sight to actually start doing so.

The office is empty except for you and the maintenance worker assigned to the night shift, so when your ringtone cuts through the stillness, the sound of it reverberates off the walls of the empty room, making it too loud for you to ignore.

With your eyes concentrated on a formula on your spreadsheet, you answer your phone without looking at the caller.

“Hey, I’ll be home soon.” you say, assuming it’s Yelena on the line.

“Y/N.” A vaguely familiar voice that’s definitely not Yelena greets you. That’s when you remove your phone from your ear and notice the unknown number on the screen.

“Who’s this?”

The caller doesn’t answer right away. Instead, you can hear rain pouring heavily in the background, something you haven’t been aware of due to the thick windows of the office blocking out outside noises.

“It’s Vision,” The voice cracks over the speaker before you can decide to drop the call. “Wanda needs your help.”

The rain had been relentless throughout the day according to the weather app on your phone. You’ve just been too busy to notice, and so you find yourself without an umbrella. Thankfully, by the time you arrive at the location Vision instructed, the downpour has subsided into a gentle drizzle.

“Jesus, it’s freezing.” you mumble to yourself, wrapping your jacket tighter around your body.

You recognize this part of the city, having gone here numerous times in the past to visit your favorite dive bar where you, Natasha, Clint, and Wanda would hang out for hours just talking and having a good time. Although Natasha and Wanda don’t really talk, they engage in group shots, and Wanda would always challenge you to a game of pool, and you would win one or two matches in a best of seven, because your wife–ex-wife–is just so gifted in just about all kinds of sports. 

However, it's not the same bar where you find Wanda. Instead, it’s near a dead-end street and you stumble upon her slumped against a light post in a sorry state. It's obvious that she has consumed a significant amount of alcohol, leaving her almost blacked out. It makes you suspicious if this happens often–Wanda getting shitfaced in random places with Vision in tow. 

The sight of Vision doesn’t bother you as much as before, but it still leaves a bitter taste in your mouth to see them together in the same place. Vision, to his credit, keeps a respectful distance, yet the yearning in his face is unmistakable. It's a familiar look, one you've witnessed on Wanda's previous boyfriends when they believed you weren't paying attention.

As you draw closer, Wanda's head tilts back, and her intoxicated eyes, heavy-lidded and unfocused, widen ever so slightly in recognition as they lock with yours.

“Y/N? Is that really you?” Wanda drunkenly slurs, her struggling eyes attempting to focus on your face. “If you’re not, please tell Y/N that I’m not with him,” Wanda says, pointing her thumb in his direction, refusing to even look at Vision. “He just showed up out of nowhere and I told him to stay away. I swear, I’m telling the truth. Vision, tell her, please. Tell her to tell Y/N.” 

The street lights become too much for Wanda to bear, and she buries her head into her arms, her knees drawn to her chest. She looks so small and insignificant against the backdrop of a vibrant metropolis. 

Steeling yourself against her sorrowful pleas, you turn to Vision instead. “How did you find her?” you demand.

“I was out with my friends, and happened to pass by this area on our way back,” Vision recounts. “I saw two men trying to take her home, and we intervened. I tried asking Wanda where she lives so I can take her home myself, but she refuses to tell me. I tried calling you using her phone, but I think you blocked her number, so I tried calling you myself.”

You’re inclined to believe him, but there will always be bouts of suspicion lingering on the surface when it concerns Wanda. Though as your eyes return to Wanda’s shivering form, you can’t help but wonder if she would truly rather die in the ditches than accept help from him. For the first time, you find yourself contemplating the possibility of believing her, although a part of you wonders if it's simply your enduring soft spot for her attempting to sway your judgment.

“Thank you,” you say to Vision, surprised to find a little sincerity in your voice.

“If I find out you’re the reason why she’s this miserable, I’m putting everything on the line to make sure you stay away from her.” he declares, igniting a cigarette as you support Wanda, draping one of her arms over your shoulder and lifting her up. In that moment, she feels noticeably lighter than before, and your hand can discern the protrusion of her ribs as you secure her against your side.

“Is that a threat?” you say, clenching your jaw, your own clothes getting soaked fast, not realizing early on just how drenched Wanda is from the rain.

“It’s a warning,” Vision answers coolly. “As far as I know, you haven’t atoned for anything. And it’s not because you don’t deserve it. It’s because of her.”

He’s right–you walked out of that bloodied room unscathed from the law. All along you thought the consequences of what you’ve done to Vision just miraculously resolved on its own with the help of Natasha, but if Wanda had anything to do with how you’re not being served with at least damages for physical assault, what price did she have to pay in return?

It’s a conversation for later–you don’t need Wanda to protect you, especially if it means being coerced into complying with Vision's demands.

“I’m ready for anything,” you tell him, goading him with a smirk as you feel Wanda nestle closer to you, seeking your warmth. “Now, get your jacket off her and I’ll take it from here.”

As Vision gently takes off the garment from Wanda's shoulders, your eyes catch sight of a distinct mark on her finger, a faded indentation left by a ring that she no longer adorns.

-

Upon arriving at Wanda's place, there is no sign of Sparky. You feel a twinge of disappointment, as you had been somewhat anticipating him despite the circumstances. However, your attention swiftly turns to Wanda, who appears even worse now that you have brought her home: her lips are dry and pale, the flush all over her face down to her neck is still there, and she feels excessively warm to touch, almost as if she is–

“Shit, you’re burning up,” you mutter as you place your hand on her damp forehead.

Then all of a sudden, Wanda forcefully pushes you away, her hand covering her mouth, as she rushes towards the bathroom. In her haste, the straps of her sandals snap, breaking under the pressure. Swiftly, you trail behind her, conscientiously removing your shoes along the way to prevent leaving any dirt tracks on her pristine floor. 

When you enter the bathroom, you find Wanda hunched over the toilet, emptying her stomach. Grimacing at the sight, you kneel beside her and carefully gather her dark hair, holding it up while you wait for her to finish. Once she's done, you flush it down for her. Wanda, seemingly drained, rolls away from the toilet and crawls towards the shower where she simply sits in one corner, closing her eyes with the clear intention of settling down for the night right there.

Faced with a decision, you find yourself contemplating your next course of action. You weigh the responsibilities you had undertaken which was to get Wanda to her apartment safely. What happens to her thereafter should no longer be your concern. After all, Yelena is most likely still waiting for you back at home.

Home. A year ago, the extent to which your definition of it has changed would have been unimaginable.

“Y/N,” Wanda’s weak voice draws your attention away from your thoughts. “You should g-go.” she says hoarsely.

Your fingers close around the doorknob, silent and unmoving, as anger wells up within you; Anger at Wanda for getting herself into this mess. Anger towards Vision for asking you to come to her rescue. Anger at yourself for feeling unable to leave Wanda behind, despite everything.

"Did she tell you about me? I told her not to, Y/N. I'm so sorry..." Wanda's whisper reaches your ears, her eyes remaining shut and her head tilted back, revealing the graceful column of her neck. You instinctively avert your gaze.

“What are you talking about?” you ask.

“I-I went to see you. But she said you were still working. I didn’t mean to intrude, I just wanted you to know about Sparky…”

She? Yelena? You didn’t think Yelena would allow Wanda to go up to your apartment just like that.

"He's not well," Wanda continues, her gaze focused on your face as she takes in every detail of it, as if trying to capture the memory of you in case this is the only opportunity she gets.

Your grip on the doorknob tightens. So that explains why Sparky is nowhere to be found.

“I’m sorry to hear that. What happened? Is he okay?”

Wanda hiccups, thoughts too jumbled to put together anything coherent. "Liver–not normal," she manages to say, her voice trailing off. She had convinced herself that she wanted to see you for a legitimate reason, but as she gazes at you now, it becomes painfully clear that it was her deep longing for you that has ultimately prevailed.

"Is there anything I could-" you start to offer your help, your concern for Sparky overriding whatever tension lingers between you and Wanda.

"You should leave, Y/N," Wanda interrupts, mustering the strength to open her eyes and meet yours. The shame and despair swirling in those green orbs are hard to ignore, but you try to remain steadfast. "She's probably worried about you."

You chew on your lower lip for a moment, and then, instead of doing as she says, you close the door behind you. Silently, you begin removing your own clothes, stripping down to your underwear.

"I have to dry them anyway," you mumble after feeling the weight of Wanda's stare. "Come on, let's fix you up and get you ready for bed."

Wanda reaches for the hem of her shirt, her hesitation evident as she refrains from removing it. Sensing her struggle, you take the initiative, hoping to expedite the process so you can attend to her needs and leave soon. With gentle care, you lift her shirt up and over her head, exposing her trembling form. 

That's when you notice it–her wedding ring that Wanda used to wear on her finger, even after your divorce. But now it has taken on a new form, transformed into a pendant hanging delicately from a chain around her neck. It rests there, nestled between her breasts, a symbol of a past chapter in her life–and yours–that she carries with her, in a different way.

Wanda notices where your eyes are lingering and removes the necklace herself when you remain passive and unmoving. 

The next task is unclipping her bra, and as your fingers reach for the hooks, Wanda's hand covers yours, halting your actions.

“Is this–I mean, do you think should…?” she stammers out, and you’re unsure if the blush on her face is still from the alcohol.

"It's nothing I haven't seen before," you say, feeling your own face heat up. "I think you have a fever. I need to get you out of these wet clothes, is that okay?"

Wanda nods meekly, giving her consent.

A few seconds later, Wanda is naked except for the pink she wears on her cheeks. You help her get up and move under the shower. You twist and turn the knob of the shower until you find the desirable temperature, and then start shampooing Wanda’s hair. 

As the water cascades over her and rinses away her self-loathing, Wanda finds herself surrendering to your care, allowing her to cherish this rare, tender moment she never knew she’d get to experience again. She is grateful for the water, realizing how weary you must be of seeing her cry; it’s just not possible to restrain herself from it when you’re this gentle with her.

“Can you handle the rest?” you ask Wanda, putting your hands under the shower to get rid of the soap.

“Yes,” she answers.

“Okay. I’ll go get some towels.”

Collecting both yours and Wanda's clothes from the floor, you quickly step out of the bathroom before you can start processing what you’ve just done.

Don’t think, just do, you say to yourself as you put the clothes in the dryer. 

Don’t think, just do, you repeat as you get fresh towels from the cabinet.

Don’t think.

When you’re both dry and you’re back in your work clothes and Wanda in her pajamas, you accompany her to her bedroom. You tuck her in and touch her forehead once again to check her temperature. The heat still radiates from her body, and it becomes clear that her fever isn't letting up soon. It won’t go down unless she takes something, but with alcohol still in her system, you don’t think that’s a good idea.

Here, drink this," you offer, extending a sports drink to Wanda.

"Thank you," Wanda murmurs, taking a generous sip before returning the bottle to you.

"Try to finish it. You're likely dehydrated," you suggest. Wanda, acknowledging your advice, obediently continues to drink.

“Better?”

Wanda nods with a small smile. “Thank you, Y/N. I’m sorry you had to go through all that trouble. I didn’t think Vision would–”

“You’re welcome,” you interject as soon as she mentions his name. “We’ll talk soon.” 

Wanda's gaze remains fixed on her folded hands in her lap. "You don't have to," she whispers. "You don't have to talk to me or see me if you don't want to. I'm sorry. This doesn't happen a lot anymore—not as often as you might think. Just something happened, and... I didn't mean to involve you, Y/N. I'm really sorry."

Something? What exactly happened? Regardless, you don't think it's healthy for Wanda to subject herself to such a high level of intoxication, no matter what the circumstances may be.

"We'll talk soon," you repeat, keeping your tone firm but gentle. "Take care, Wanda. Good night."

-

Yelena is wide awake in the living room, her attention focused on a book resting on her lap as you arrive home. The soft glow of a lamp illuminates her features, casting a gentle light on her face. There's a stillness in the room, interrupted only by the turning of pages and the sound of your footsteps.

You hesitate for a moment, taking in the sight of her. 

"Hey," you greet her wearily. "You're still awake?"

“I couldn’t sleep without you,” she says, somewhat bashfully. "There's salad in the fridge if you haven't eaten." she offers.

You pause for a moment, and then meeting her gaze, you ask, "Do you have something to tell me?"

Yelena levels you with a look, putting her book down, she says, “No. Do you?” 

Taking a deep breath, you tell her you do. “I took Wanda home,” you declare, bracing yourself for Yelena’s reaction but her face remains stoic. There's a flicker of something in her eyes, almost as if she had been anticipating your words.

“Can you clarify?” Yelena finally speaks up when you make no further effort to elaborate.

"In the office, I received a call from Vision," you explain. “He said Wanda needed my help. She was in no condition to go home on her own so I took her.”

“Why didn’t he take her home himself?”

You shrug slightly. "Wanda refused to go with him.”

There's a quiet intensity in her eyes, a depth of emotions that she holds back, yet you can sense them lingering beneath the surface. And then, she asks, “And nothing happened?”

“I helped her get change and manage her fever,” you say. “Nothing else happened.”

Yelena's gaze softens, and any trace of her being bothered by your confession finally reveals itself in the form of a soft sigh that escapes her lips.

"Thank you for telling me," Yelena says, wrapping her arms around your neck. "In that case, I should have mentioned that Wanda came by, and I let her come up here."

"Why didn't you say anything?" you ask curiously.

"She told me not to let you know," Yelena reveals quite casually. "And I didn't think it was important anyway."

You hum in response, grateful for her honesty and openness at least. Although, you sense that there might be more to the story than meets the eye.

"Aren't you going to ask me if I've been in touch with her?" you inquire, unable to ignore the nagging curiosity in your mind. Yelena's seemingly mild reactions in response to her encounter with Wanda is slightly unsettling.

“I wasn’t going to,” Yelena confesses, lowering her gaze before they come back up with a vulnerability that wasn’t there before. “But have you?”

You shake your head in response, indicating the truth. Yelena’s shoulder slackens and she steps closer to you. “I don’t want to talk about her anymore. I missed you,” Yelena mumbles the words like a secret, before capturing your lips in a short, sweet kiss, effectively stealing you away from your thoughts.

"Me too," you whisper back, feeling the day's events weighing on you, you take her hand and guide her towards the bedroom. "Let's go to bed."

[worth-the-chaos]

Adventures in Babysitting - Steve Harrington x female!reader - Chapter 11

Chapter Summary: Steve and you are finally officially dating, the kids are finally in high school and no longer need any sort of official babysitting, and life is overall pretty damn good. You try to push aside the unease settling in your chest, but how long can you ignore it before it manifests into something much worse than you could possibly imagine.

Content Warning: swearing, bullying, trauma responses, intimacy

Word Count: 6.7k

Author’s Note: Sorry this took me longer to get out than some of the previous chapters. Life has been a bit hectic to say the very least (my brother low key got robbed and I was helping him sort some of it out), but I’m glad I was finally able to get this done! I’m looking forward to writing more of season 4!

Message me to be added to the taglist! Also, please send me asks! I love talking to you guys, so even if you want to tell me about something as mundane as what you had for breakfast, I’m happy to hear it :)

Series Masterlist | Part 10 | Next Part

***

Spring break started soon, and despite having graduated and gotten out of the shit hole that is Hawkins High, Steve still drove you and Robin to school. You hadn’t stayed the night last night at Steve’s so you slid into the backseat behind him as you got in the car. Even though you were halfway through second semester, you still weren’t used to Steve not being there to walk you to your first period every morning like he had the year before.

Of course, you stepped right into the middle of an argument between your boyfriend and your best friend. At least they aren’t shoving each other like toddlers this time, you thought as you rolled your eyes and buckled your seatbelt.

“Cut me some slack, please! It is 7:00 in the morning, we have the stupid pep rally, and I woke up looking like a total corpse!” Robin shouted, pushing the skin on her face around as she looked in the visor mirror.

“Oh, you’re worried about a basketball pep rally? You expect me to believe that?” Steve shot back.

“Yeah? So?” Robin’s voice got small as she anticipated the trajectory of this conversation.

“So, we both know what this is about, okay? I’m not buying that bullshit, this is about Vickie!”

“Absolutely not!” Robin defended herself. You scoffed from the back seat, not believing a word of her lie as Steve spoke up again.

“It is, and you know what else?”

“Uh, I really don’t care,” Robin rolled her eyes while she continued to put on her lip balm.

“You gotta stop pretending to be someone else when you’re around her, okay? You just gotta—you just gotta be yourself,” Steve tried to give her a pep talk and you gaped from the backseat before chiming in.

“You do realize you are literally quoting her to her, right?”

“Hey, you stay out of this, and besides, maybe she needs to listen to herself,” Steve glared at you in the rearview mirror before turning back towards Robin, “ever think about that, smartypants? I listened to you and now look at me. Boom. Back in business.” He gestured back towards you as he said it and you rolled your eyes. You were, however, grateful that Robin had gotten involved because you didn’t know how much longer you could take Steve not making a move last summer.

“It’s not the same thing, okay. You ask out a girl like y/n and she says no, big deal. Nothing happens—”

Steve cut her off immediately, “what do you mean ‘nothing happens’? In that hypothetical I lose the love of my life, so yeah that’s a pretty big mother fucking deal!”

“For the sake of the hypothetical—“ Robin began again, “—maybe your ego’s a little bit bruised…but I ask out the wrong girl, and bam! I’m a town pariah.”

“Yeah, I’d buy that, except Vickie is definitely not the wrong girl,” you spoke up, leaning forward to feel more included in the conversation.

“We just don’t know that, do we?”

“She returned Fast Times paused at 53 minutes, 5 seconds,” Steve spoke up and you rolled your eyes, knowing exactly where his mind was going. “Do you know who pauses Fast Times at 53 minutes, 5 seconds? People who like boobies, Robin!”

“Ew!” You and Robin exclaimed in unison.

“Gross, don’t say boobies!” She scolded, causing the boy to just repeat himself like the immature idiot that he was.

“Boobies. Not a big deal, okay? I like boobies. You like boobies. Y/n has boobies—Vickie likes boobies! Definitely!”

“Hey, how about you not bring my tits into this?” You asked Steve, smacking his shoulder. “But I mean, I can’t disagree with him…Vickie definitely likes tits, I mean we have all the evidence,” you added as you turned toward Robin. She rolled her eyes and turned up the radio, deciding she was done with the conversation the three of you were having.

Steve pulled up to Hawkins High, parking briefly to let the two of you out. Before walking to the building you stopped at his door and he rolled the window down.

“Don’t go getting fired while I’m in class, okay?” You warned, smoothing out his vest that was wrinkled because often he couldn’t be bothered to iron it.

“I just wish you could be there, you know? The day just drags on and on and on when I’m working by myself, let alone when I have to work with Keith,” Steve responded, rolling his eyes. Since he had treated Jonathan so shitty when him and Nancy were together, Steve tried to move past the jealous side of himself, but now that he wasn’t even in school with you to see which assholes were hitting on you, it made turning over a new leaf all the more difficult.

“I know, but you are a grown ass adult and you can handle it. Besides, Robin and I will be there after school lets out, so you don’t have to miss me for too terribly long,” you reminded him, leaning into the car to place a gentle kiss on his lips. He smiled into it and you debated just getting back into his car so that you could make out in the break room at Family Video, but Robin’s voice rang out, causing you to jump and hit your head on the roof of the car.

“Hey shit birds, cool it with the PDA, we’re gonna be late,” Robin yelled out, and you grumbled, rubbing the back of your head as you moved away from Steve’s car to join her. You waved a goodbye to Steve as you bit back a smile before you turned and picked up the pace to join your friend.

You really hated pep rallies with the entirety of your being…and you knew that Robin would too if it weren’t for being in the band and getting to stand the whole time next to Vickie. You usually tried to stand next to the band so that you could at least talk to her, but your talk with Steve had slowed you down and the bleachers had filled up.

“Sorry! I can get Davis to try and get someone to move if you want me to. People usually listen to him because he’s borderline terrifying,” Robin apologized, gesturing behind her to the sousaphone player who was built like a tank. Hawkins High didn’t have football, otherwise you were nearly 1000% confident that he would’ve been goaded into joining the team.

“No, really it’s fine. Don’t worry about it,” you smiled at her and waved her on to go join Vickie in the stands. You started ascending the bleachers, trying to make your way to the back corner as you weaved through people who were cheering on the cheerleading squad (a bit redundant, you felt). Ever since you started dating Steve, you somehow became even less popular at school, which was a hard feat to accomplish. A lot of girls in your grade were still quite enamored with the boy and understandably disappointed that he was no longer available. As such, they quite deliberately chose to take it out on you.

Normally it didn’t really get to you, but recently it had been bothering you more. You had been used to it last year when you watched girls in the hall cast judgmental looks at you as Steve walked you to class…and that was before you were even officially an item. Now, without having Steve to be there to quell your nerves, you just felt lonely whenever Robin wasn’t around either to distract you from immature high school bullies.

You finally made it to the back corner of the bleachers, not without hearing some nasty comments directed at you. You sighed, crossing your arms and closing your eyes as you leaned against the wall.

“I take it you hate these things too?” A voice spoke up to ask you. You turned to see the familiar mop of long brown hair as you realized the voice belonged to Eddie Munson. You had never been in a class with him before this semester but you had become increasingly familiar with him due to the fact that Ms. O’Donell, your physics teacher, had desperately pleaded with you to tutor him so that he could graduate this year.

You had reluctantly agreed, mostly because you didn’t want to disappoint the poor woman, but it had been an exercise in frustration.

“Well, yeah, they aren’t my favorite. Especially since they’re typically full of people who somehow have a shit ton of school spirit but not even a modicum of decency and respect for me, so that is just…totally epic,” you rolled your eyes, frustrated with one classmate in particular, Claire, who had just tried to trip you on your way up the stairs.

“I studied by the way,” Eddie spoke up, when you looked at him with confusion, he continued, “for the physics quiz today? I studied for it.”

Suddenly, your face twisted in panic as you realized that you hadn’t. You’d been so busy with work and Steve and just trying to hold everything together that you had forgotten about the last assessment you had before going on spring break. “Fuck! I forgot about it.”

“Eh, you’ll do fine anyway,” Eddie replied nonchalantly. You were glad someone at least believed in you.

“Dustin’s still doing alright?” You asked the long haired boy beside you. Since Dustin was in high school now, he no longer needed a babysitter, and thus your career, in an official sense at least, had come to an end. You still saw him extremely regularly because Steve and him were still good friends, but you still worried about him. You knew he was a misfit, and being a misfit yourself it made you nervous that he had found himself in a crowd of…well, misfits. You didn’t want him to go through the same shit that you went through. You didn’t want him to be invisible like you.

“Henderson? He’s fucking awesome! Yeah, of course he’s fine,” Eddie replied, laughing as he shoved you in the shoulder. Even though everyone liked to talk about how much of a mess Eddie Munson was, you were glad that Ms. O’Donell’s arrangement had at least shown you that he wasn’t a bad guy. It was nice to have another friend at Hawkins High. “How’s Steve doing?” Eddie asked, not doing at great job at hiding his distaste for the graduate with the perfect hair.

You rolled your eyes at his tone before answering. “He’s great…I just thought dating the son of a bitch would mean that I’d get at least enough status here for people to not treat me like shit,” you chuckled.

Your conversation with Eddie fizzled out as the basketball team entered the gym. You couldn’t help but smile seeing Lucas on the court. He looked happy, so even though he was surrounded by meathead athletes, you couldn’t really be mad. You knew he was smart enough to make good decisions and he still had you all as a support group, so you tried to shove the worry down in your chest.

Jason Carver took the mic and began going on and on as he spoke. Though you really, really didn’t like the kid, you had to give him credit. He sure did know how to give a speech.

“…you know, I think I can speak for all of us when I say it’s been a tough year for Hawkins. So much loss. And sometimes I wonder, how much loss can one community take? In dark days like this, we need something to believe in. So last night, when we were down by ten points at half to Christian Academy, I looked at my team and I said think of Melissa. Think of Heather. Think of Billy. Think of our heroic police chief Jim Hopper. Think of each and every one of our friends who perished in that fire…”

That was when you stopped listening. Not a day went by that you didn’t think of the loss that you had faced. You didn’t need someone like Jason who didn’t know jack shit about loss to explain it to you. “I have to go,” you whispered to Eddie, and before he could respond, you slipped out of the bleachers, telling a teacher that you needed to use the restroom, and darting out the gym doors.

Robin noticed you leaving and quickly set her trumpet down, taking off her shako, which Vickie graciously took before darting down the hall after you.

“Y/n,” she yelled after you trying to catch up but you didn’t slow down, quickly evading her and turning a corner as you wiped tears from your eyes. “Y/n!”

She finally caught up to you, grabbing your wrist to stop you from running away from her. “What’s wrong?” She asked, eyes searching yours in an attempt to make sure you were okay.

“I don’t even know how to explain it,” you choked out, unable to keep your emotions at bay.

“Could you at least try?” Robin asked softly, running a hand up and down your arm to soothe the strong emotions you were feeling.

“I…I’m-I’m just tired of-of people like Jason trying to explain the loss to me. I get it! I know what it was like; I was there!” You stammered. Robin nodded, and you knew she understood what you were going through. You were eternally grateful that you had the support system that you had; you were never alone in your struggle which was both a blessing and a curse. You wouldn’t wish your experience with the supernatural on your worst enemy, so sometimes it was difficult to stomach the fact that your closest friends had experienced it alongside you.

“What can I do?” Robin asked, wanting nothing more than to make it better.

“I just…I think I need to leave,” you cried, wiping your eyes on your sleeve. Robin nodded, leading you out the doors of school to the pay phone right outside. Fortunately, with everyone tied up at the pep rally, there wasn’t anyone to stop the two of you as you put some coins in the telephone. Your fingers hesitated as you thought about who to call, finally settling before dialing the number.

After a couple rings, a familiar voice picked up. “Hello, this is Steve from Family Video, how can I help you today?”

“Steve,” you cried out and immediately he was on high alert.

“Y/n?! What’s wrong?! Are you okay? Where are you?”

“I-I’m at school, but-but I’m just…having one of those days you know?” Steve had been your rock through processing the trauma that your experiences with the Upside Down had brought you, so he very much understood that somedays were just too much for you.

“I need to talk to Keith really quickly, but then I’m going to come and pick you up, okay? You’re not by yourself, are you?” Steve asked, concern lacing his tone.

“No, Robin’s with me.”

“Good, good, good. Can you put her on the phone, baby?” Steve sounded frantic, and if you could have seen him, his anxious behaviors would have confirmed it. There he was, standing at the counter of Family Video, not even an hour into his shift when shit had to hit the fan. He ran his hands through his hair, trying to calm himself down, but knowing that you were upset was enough to keep him from being calm. There was a silence, before Robin’s voice rang out through the receiver.

“Hey.”

“How bad is she?” He cut to the chase.

“Um, I mean…you heard her,” Robin replied, speaking in vague terms so that you wouldn’t be offended by their conversation.

Steve sighed, jotting down a note on a piece of scratch paper, his version of “talking to Keith.” After he scribbled down the words, he refocused on the phone call. “Okay, Robin, here’s what you need to do. Take her to the nurse or something and find some way to get them to send her home. I don’t need her stressing about missing class unexcused, alright? You know how she is about that sort of stuff.”

“Got it. Just head out now, I should be able to get this sorted pretty quickly,” Robin confirmed, hanging up the phone and turning back to you. “Alright dingus number two, let’s get this all figured out.”

***

When Steve’s car pulled up, you felt relief flood your entire body. You wished that discussions of what happened last summer didn’t affect you as much as they did, but sometimes it all still caught you off guard.

The car halted to a stop as Steve quickly got out rushing over to you and scooping you into a tight hug. “Baby,” he whispered into your ear as you melted against him, tears soaking into his shirt.

“I’m sorry, Steve…I-I’m trying so hard, but then-then Jason started giving one of his dumbass speeches and I just lost it.”

“Shhhh, baby, it’s okay; you’re okay, I’m here now, alright?” Steve pulled away and put his hands on either side of your face to get you to look at him. There was so much sincerity in his eyes that it almost made you break all over again as you thought about how lucky you were to have him. “I’m gonna take you home, alright?”

You knew he was talking about his house, so you nodded. You thanked Robin and she gave you a weak smile before waving and walking back inside. You were grateful that she had stayed with you, but you felt bad that you had prevented her from spending time with Vickie. Steve opened the passenger door for you and once he was back in his seat, he started driving away from the hell hole that was Hawkins High.

“Steve, I really don’t want you to miss your shift,” you spoke up, looking at him innocently. He could just melt right there with the way that you looked at him.

“Y/n, don’t even worry about it, seriously. I’d much rather take care of you and make sure that you’re okay than be at that stupid job.”

“But Keith already kind of hates you…like a lot. I’ve got my uniform vest in my bag, let me just pick up a shift and I’ll work with you,” you offered. Steve looked at you hesitantly, but upon noticing the way that you had calmed down in his presence, he relented.

“Fine, but you’re not going to lift a finger while we’re working, okay? You’re just gonna sit there and look pretty and I’ll take care of everything,” he replied. He desperately wished he could lean over and kiss you right now but the last time he had tried to do that while driving, you’d scolded him and he almost crashed his BMW, so he decided that it wasn’t worth the risk…he had precious cargo.

You rolled your eyes and turned up the radio, biting back a smile. When you got to Family Video, you threw on your vest quickly, before you both entered the store. Keith stood scowling at the counter, holding up Steve’s sloppily handwritten note as if it was evidence in a crime, though to him it probably was.

“Dude, not cool.”

“Keith, did you even read the fucking note? Clearly it was an emergency,” Steve spat, as he gestured to you. He was tired of Keith being a complete ass all of the time.

“Y/n? Aren’t you supposed to be at school?” Keith asked, his demeanor suddenly drastically changing. Steve rolled his eyes and scoffed, knowing damn well that this dumbass had a fat crush on you.

“It’s a long story,” you sighed, “but I’m here and I’m willing to pick up an extra shift, so you can leave if you’d like.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” Keith spoke up, “but you better keep—“

“Keep an eye on him, make sure he doesn’t fuck up. Yeah, yeah, I know,” you sighed and Steve threw his hands up in exasperation. What the hell did I ever do to deserve this shit?

Keith exited the store, so now it was just you and Steve. Friday mornings at Family Video were usually pretty slow given the fact that most people were at work or school, so there really wasn’t much work to do.

“So, have you gotten any more acceptance letters?” Steve spoke up and asked as he began reorganizing one of the shelves. He held his breath as he waited for your answer. Though he wanted nothing more than for you to be able to attend the school of your dreams, he was afraid of what that meant for the two of you and your relationship.

“Yeah, a couple more actually,” you smiled up at Steve. You had a lot of the same fears that he did about the potential of moving away. It was scary to think about trying to stay together through that huge of a life change. And you knew that you would miss him like crazy. But Nancy and Jonathan are making it work, so of course you guys would be able to…right?

“Have you made any decisions yet?”

“Uh, no, not yet. I’m still waiting to get a few decisions back before I make one of my own,” you spoke up, your voice a little small. You weren’t going to tell Steve, but what you were really waiting on was your decision from Purdue. It was close enough that nothing would have to change. You could still see Steve whenever you wanted. You were neglecting to mention this to him, however, because you knew he constantly felt like he was holding you back. He didn’t want you to make your decision based on him, but you couldn’t help but take that into account.

These were the most stilted and awkward conversations the two of you had. You and Steve could talk for hours about really pretty much everything, but as soon as college came up, it was like your ability to effectively communicate went out the window.

It wasn’t long before the phone rang again, and you picked it up. “Hello, thank you for calling Family Video. I’m y/n, how can I help you?” Your retail voice spilled from your lips sweetly.

“Y/n, this is Dustin…Listen, Lucas has to play in the championship game tonight and we need another player for Hellfire tonight, so could you please, please, fill in for him? Just this once?” The boy begged.

“Um, absolutely not,” your customer service voice disappeared as soon as you knew who was on the other line. Dustin had roped you into playing D&D once before, feeling bad for the kids after Mike had come down with a bad cold and couldn’t play. First of all, Dustin had said it wouldn’t take long. Secondly, it had been the most miserable fourteen hours of your life, so there was no way in hell you were about to do it again.

Dustin started complaining over the phone, continuing to beg you to join, before you decided that you didn’t get paid enough for this shit, handing the phone off to Steve, saying “it’s for you.”

“Woah, woah, woah, cool off pipsqueak,” Steve sighed into the phone.

“Steve! Sweet, okay. Dude, I am about to offer you the most kick-ass opportunity that will ever get extended your direction. I mean, I’m talking immaculate storytelling, a badass group of people, more fun than you will ever have in your life. I’m talking—“

“Cut to the chase,” Steve cut the boy off and rolled his eyes.

“Right, yeah, okay. Lucas has to play basketball and we need an extra person for D&D tonight,” Dustin sighed, sounding a bit defeated, no longer attempting to put on the persuasive charm that he had started with.

“No. Can’t. Sorry. I have a date tonight.”

“Just move your date this one time, come on!” Dustin begged. Why did the two cool older kids in his life have to be dating each other? In Dustin’s opinion it made both of you significantly less cool.

“What, to hang out with you and Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson? Uh, yeah, I’ll pass,” Steve responded. You rolled your eyes at the nickname for the poor boy in your class. He really wasn’t that bad, but you weren’t about to lecture Steve about it.

“You’re just jealous ‘cause I have another older male friend,” Dustin retorted, attempting to get under Steve’s skin.

“Ew. Ugh, whatever. Besides, you know, I really dig this girl...who knows, maybe she could be the one,” he added, smiling at you as you beamed right back at him from your perch on the countertop.

“You two are fucking disgusting,” Dustin replied, scoffing.

“No, we’re cool as fuck, dipshit,” Steve shot back. The door suddenly swung open, as a group of three girls entered the store, the bell above the door chiming to its familiar tune. “Oh, I got some customers. Call you back, bye.” Steve hung up the phone, ignoring Henderson’s protests.

“Welcome to Family Video, how can I help you today?” You smiled at the group of girls. They were definitely from Steve’s graduating class, home on spring break already. They cast you a judgmental look before turning to Steve.

“Steve! Oh my goodness! It’s been so long since I saw you last,” one of the girls spoke up. When Steve stood staring, unsure of how to respond, her face fell a bit as she added, “it’s me…Alice.”

“Oh, right…how are…things?”

“Oh, life’s been just so peachy! It’s just, us gals need to have a little fun this spring break…you know how it is,” she laughed flirtatiously. “We were just hoping that you had a good movie recommendation for us.”

Steve looked at you and could tell that you weren’t happy with the way these girls were talking to him as if you weren’t even there, so he spoke up, wrapping an arm around you and hugging you close to him. “Yeah, actually. My girlfriend, y/n, and I went and saw Back to the Future together on our first date, and I would really recommend it. I can already tell it’s gonna be a classic, you know?”

At this, Alice frowned, glaring at you before plastering on a fake ass smile. “Aww, that’s so cute that you two are dating! It’s just so surprising, I never would have put you two together. You always seemed like you’d want to go for the more mature girls…the ones with more experience, you know? But I’m just so so happy for the two of you.”

“Yeah, we are really, really happy. Honestly haven’t met a better person than her. But thank you so much for the well wishes, Alex,” Steve responded with a smirk as he grabbed a copy of the movie from the counter. He knew exactly what he was doing, and didn’t feel a bit bad about the way the girl’s face fell as she looked between her two friends. “So, are you ready to check out your movie or what?”

“Actually, I think we’re going to make other plans for this evening,” she spat, “and it’s Alice.”

“Well, I’m sorry we couldn’t be of service to you today,” Steve narrowed his eyes as she turned around, sauntering out of the store with her two friends following closely behind. You rolled your eyes, but you were grateful that Steve at least recognized that the girls had ulterior motives.

“Thank you for that,” you chuckled awkwardly, putting the copy of the movie back on the shelf. You wished you could tell him that the girl’s words hadn’t gotten under your skin, but that would be a lie.

“She was a bitch in high school anyway. Hasn’t changed a bit…mature, my ass,” Steve grumbled, glaring at her car as they pulled away.

“So, we have a date tonight?” You spoke up, reminding Steve of what he had told Dustin. His words had been a surprise to you.

“Yeah, actually!” Steve beamed, “I was thinking we could go to the championship game for basketball tonight. You know, I just miss some of that stuff about high school sometimes, and I know that you miss seeing the kids as often, so I thought that it might be nice to see Lucas play…even if he is a bench warmer…And we’d get to see Robin! And maybe we could even help her with talking to Vickie and—“

“Steve,” you chuckled, “of course I want to go with you, so you can stop trying to sell me on it. That was very thoughtful of you.”

He moved towards you, grabbing you around the hips and pulling you into him until your hips were flush against his, “besides, I was thinking that afterwards, you could spend the night at mine, and we could…hang out some more.”

Your breath caught in your throat. You had been officially dating Steve for eight months and he still was able to make you weak at the knees with only a few words. Your mind flashed back to what Alice had said, about how you were inexperienced, and you thought about the fact that you and Steve hadn’t…gone all the way. You knew that he wanted to, and at first you were holding off because, even though you knew he changed, you still sometimes worried about his history of being a player. However, now that it had been eight months and you two still hadn’t had sex, you were pretty confident he was going to stick with you. Now your insecurities centered more around the fact that you hadn’t been intimate in that way with anyone before. What if he realized that you weren’t good enough and the spark disappeared? What if he didn’t want you anymore?

“Hey, is anyone in there? Earth to y/n, what’s going on?” Steve joke as he knocked his fingers gently against the side of your head. You giggled and leaned against his chest.

“Yeah, that sounds good to me,” you closed your eyes. He was just so perfect and you always felt like you were seconds away from losing him. He made you feel so comfortable, which sometimes paradoxically put you on edge. You pulled away, running your fingers through his perfect head of hair as you smiled up at him.

“I love you, y/n. I really, really do,” he looked down at you with his big brown puppy dog eyes.

“I love you too, Steve.”

***

Steve placed a gentle hand to your back as he guided you up the bleachers, making sure that you found a spot close to the band so that you could chat with Robin. You had barely gotten to your spots when the principal took the mic, his words ringing out through the gymnasium.

“Everyone now please rise for our national anthem. Singing for us tonight, we have a very special guest. All the way from Nashville, our very own Tammy Thompson!” The audience cheered as she walked into the gym, waving as if she was some sort of celebrity. You gaped as you and Steve looked over at Robin.

She began singing extremely off key, feedback from the microphone resonating through the gym. Steve leaned towards Robin, whispering, “told you…muppet!” You smacked him in the chest, and he looked at you in disbelief as you rolled your eyes.

“Okay, she does sound like a muppet,” Robin whispered back. Vickie laughed beside her and you smiled as she replied, kickstarting a small conversation between the two of them.

Tammy finally finished her screechy, godawful rendition of the national anthem and the game started. It was a nail biter, but you weren’t on edge until a player on your team got injured and suddenly Lucas Sinclair, season long bench warmer, was on the court.

“Oh my god, Steve,” you said, staring wide eyed at the court as you lazily slapped him in the chest to get his attention. He looked at you incredulously, given the fact that he had been paying much closer attention the whole time than you were.

“Let’s go Lucas! You’ve got this buddy!” Steve yelled out. Sure, he acted like the kids were just a massive pain in his ass, which they were most of the time, but he loved them more than life itself. Watching Lucas play, Steve couldn’t really believe the coach hadn’t put him in all season.

There were three seconds left in the game, and suddenly Lucas had the ball. Hawkins was down by one point, and Lucas shot the ball. You watched with bated breath as the basketball bounced around the rim. You grabbed Steve’s wrist, as you watched with a furrowed brow. Is this what it’s like to be a sport parent?

The ball finally sank into the hoop, and you began jumping up and down as the crowd erupted into cheers and applause. You turned and hugged Steve around his neck, needing somewhere to place all your anxiety-turned-adrenaline, now that the game was finally over. Even though Steve was a bit bummed that he hadn’t won a championship of his own, he was damn proud that Lucas had.

The whole basketball team surrounded Lucas, and you quickly made your way down the bleachers. After the team had celebrated and there was finally a break in the crowd, you approached Lucas, pulling him into a hug.

“Lucas, you were amazing! I’m so proud of you!”

“Thanks, y/n!” The boy beamed. He had been bummed that Dustin and Mike bailed on him, but seeing you there was an unexpected surprise, considering he knew how much you hated basketball.

“I assume the team will be celebrating?” You asked him with a knowing look. He looked at you sheepishly, which confirmed your assumption. “Look, I’m not going to tell you what to do, but please try and make good decisions. And if you need anything at all, just call Steve, okay? He can pick you up, it down’t matter what time it is, you just call, alright?”

Lucas rolled his eyes, somewhat annoyed at your maternal tendencies, but the way you cared about him still made him feel good, so he decided he’d forgive it. “Yeah, okay, I got it. Thanks again for coming guys,” he added, shaking Steve’s hand as Steve patted him on the back to congratulate him. Lucas jogged off with the rest of the team, leaving you and Steve to head out of the gym together.

Once you got to the parking lot, you saw the Hellfire boys exit another wing of the school and you marched off towards them, ignoring Steve’s protests.

“Hey, guys…how was the campaign? I see you found someone to fill in,” you chuckled as Erica gave you a hug. Despite her sassy attitude about 80% of the time, she could be really sweet on the rare occasion.

“It was awesome, y/n!” Erica beamed as she told you.

“Well, I’m glad to hear it,” you smiled down at her.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the miraculous Ms. Y/n…you missed O’Donell’s quiz,” Eddie spoke up, looking at you with crossed arms.

“Yeah, I wasn’t feeling too well earlier, so I had to leave early,” you didn’t elaborate, “how’d it end up going?”

“It was pretty good. I actually don’t think I failed it this time, so thanks for the help. You know, I’m really fucking determined to graduate this go around.”

“Yeah? Well, I’m glad I could help,” you replied and Steve reached for your hand. You interlocked your fingers with his before you added, “well, we’d better get going…we have an early shift tomorrow, so I’ll see you suckers later.” You saluted with your free hand while Steve grumbled a goodbye and dragged you towards his car.

You got in the passenger seat and as he started it, you could tell he was a little frustrated. “What’s got your panties in a twist, huh?”

“It’s just, I didn’t know you were such good friends with Eddie,” Steve grumbled and you rolled your eyes, chuckling. He looked at you exasperated, in disbelief that you would laugh, but you just leaned in and caught his open mouthed expression in a kiss. He immediately softened at your touch, muttering an apology as you pulled away.

“Ms. O’Donell just asked me to help him with some of his physics shit since he’s dense as fuck. I promise you there is absolutely nothing going on between us…he’s just a friend.” Steve tried to shove his jealousy aside. He knew you wouldn’t lie to him. He just nodded as he drove off, brow still furrowed. You were getting worried that he wasn’t saying anything, but you were terrified of breaking the silence.

When you got to his house, he yanked your car door open, helping you out before grabbing your wrist and pulling you in his house and up the stairs to his bedroom. Normally he was pretty gentle with you, but this time he was a little rougher as he guided you to his bed. You sat down with a huff as he let go, looking at you with wild eyes.

“Steve, I’m sorry, I don’t know what I did wrong,” you spoke up beginning to tear up at the way the night was going. His expression softened a bit in surprise, but he reset it, sitting next to you and pulling you onto his lap to straddle him before placing his lips to your neck. He sucked harshly at the skin and you let out a gasp, melting at his touch.

“I’m not mad at you, baby…I could never be mad at you,” he assured you as he breathed across the expanse of your neck, sending a shiver up your spine. “I just get a little jealous sometimes is all…and I want to make it abundantly clear to everyone that you are 100% all mine,” he added as he sucked on your neck again, leaving visible marks and love bites.

You breathed out a small moan that was like music to his ears as he flipped you over so that you were lying down, continuing to kiss across your neck. He began to unbutton the first few buttons of your shirt, placing gentle kisses across your collarbones and down your chest, but your hands quickly darted up to stop him. He immediately let go, looking you in the eyes, searching for what was wrong.

“Steve, I’m sorry…I-I’m just not ready,” your voice cracked as you whispered, your eyes welling up with tears again. You hated disappointing him, and you were worried that he was going to lose interest in you.

“Y/n, please don’t cry…and don’t apologize either. I don’t want to do a damn thing until you’re ready for it, okay?” He assured you while you both sat up, looking you in the eyes with so much sincerity it made you want to cry all over again.

“It’s just….I-I keep thinking about what that girl said at work earlier…she was right you know? I am inexperienced and it’s embarrassing, and I just wish that I could be less weird about all of it and—“

Steve cut you off, “woah, woah, woah! I don’t give a fuck what that girl said. And who cares that you’re inexperienced? I swear that I don’t. Besides, it just means that when you are ready, I get to make sure I really take my time and make it real special for you, okay baby?”

You smiled up at him, leaning in to place a sweet kiss on his lips. He smiled into the kiss as it deepened, before pulling away to look at you again.

“I’m the luckiest guy on the planet, you know that?” You smiled at the praise, before he leaned in to place more kisses down your neck. Life was just so perfect.

Your heart rate quickened at the thought as your breath caught in your lungs. You knew better than to trust things to stay that way…a bad feeling settled in your chest as Steve continued to kiss and nip at your tender skin.

You pushed the thought away as you took a deep breath and allowed Steve to continue kissing you. If shit was about to hit the fan, you’d be damned if you let it cut this moment short. That was a problem for another day, you decided as you melted under Steve’s gentle touch.

***

a/n: Thank you so much for reading! If you wanted an easy way to make me smile, feel free to reblog ;)

taglist:

@season4steve @sassyheroneckgiant @tangledinthegreatxscape @maeve-wileyy @palachannie @chaerfull @usaguisenpaisblog @emilieluckwood @sabrinadelreyy @mochminnie @xprloki @kitdjarin1 @kissmxcheek

[dreamdaddydutch]

Comfort

Word Count: 4,036

Pairing: gn reader x Javier I Word Count: 4,036

Warnings: A mention of smoking, anxiety, panic attack description

Summary: Yes, this is another fic where Javier comforts the reader when they're experiencing a lot of anxiety and have a panic attack. It's a comfort fic which I wrote due to my own mental health and anxiety at the time being pretty bad. It's not a romantic fic as such, there's just a few mentions/hints of potential romance and feelings.

*******************************************************************

You hadn’t been feeling great for several days now, there was a tightening in your chest and no matter what you tried to do, your heart just didn’t seem to beat the way it was supposed to. It was erratic and all over the place, your mood too was low, panicked, worried. 

The day before you’d seen a dead Northern Cardinal at the side of the road and it had made you unfathomably sad, though you had no reason for the death of an animal to make you feel like this, especially considering you would frequently go hunting and fishing. 

The camp was alive, bustling away as usual and thankfully no one had noticed your current mood. The others would ask how you were in the morning but aside from that and a little small talk, everyone else seemed so preoccupied with their comings and goings that no one spared a second thought for you. You weren’t mad about it, perhaps it would have been nice if someone had at least noticed the change and asked if you wanted to talk, normally you’d expect that of Arthur.

But you knew he’d seen Mary again recently and had enough of his own problems to be keeping his mind busy rather than worrying about others. Mary-Beth also would enjoy chats with you especially in the evening, you trusted her more than most, but she’d been wrapped in her books and seemed so happy it was a shame to bring distress to her. The only other person in camp you could truly be honest with was Javier, the two of you shared chats in the early morning as the mist rose, or late at night round a dying fireplace. But he’d been frequently absent from camp as of late.

You decided to go for a ride by yourself to no where in particular, perhaps some time alone would do you good, look at the wildflowers, listen to the birdsong. Perhaps considering the season you’d find berries and mushrooms to forage and bring back to camp. Half hour out of camp you came across a small lake and there decided to hitch your horse, it seemed like a good place to stop for a coffee. As you poured the hot liquid from your flask you heard someone singing, curiosity getting the better of you, you decided to go and investigate. 

The real reason was because the song was familiar to you, though not in English, you wondered if it were at all possible that another from your camp had also come to the same location for some time alone. Time that you were now about to intrude on. 

Walking through the rushes, careful of your footsteps you eventually came to the person who was singing, Javier. You had been right.

“Hi there,” You said quietly, not wishing to startle him or seem over enthusiastic. You were worried when he saw you that he’d be annoyed or perhaps have wondered if you’d followed him, which you would never dream of. Instead when he saw you his face seemed to light up as he smiled and waved you over.

“Hola Y/N”

You walked over to him and sat down on the grasses. “I’m sorry Javier I didn’t mean to intrude.”

He waved his hands in front of his face, “No, no… you could never intrude, it’s nice to see you.” He smiled, it seemed genuine, could it be he was really pleased to see you? Perhaps you could open up to Javier about how you were feeling?

He always listened and was quite sensitive when you got to know him, but the problem was what you had started to feel something for him and were worried that spending too much time with him or opening up would expose you and the emotions you held close. 

You opened your mouth to speak when Javier instead said, “I am glad you are here with me.”

You looked at him and waited for him to continue, what did he mean?

“Around camp recently, you haven’t seemed yourself this past week. You’re so quiet and withdrawn, I miss our morning chats looking out at the valley, smoking, good…well passable coffee.” He let out a small laugh. 

You returned a small smile, “Yes well, about that…” You stopped in your tracks, was this a good idea?

As if reading your mind he responded, “You can tell me.”

“I don’t know Javier I haven’t been feeling myself as of late. I’m worried and anxious all the time, to be honest…” you took a deep breath wondering just how much you could tell him and whether you could trust him. His earnest expression and the way his hand had moved towards yours on the dry earth told you that you could.

“I’m feeling more alone than ever, I’m so afraid, I’m not sleeping, my chest hurts all the time. My heart…my chest it’s like it’s full of butterflies all beating their wings to escape.”

Javier put down his fishing rod and shifted a little where he was sat to look at you, he reached out to stroke the side of your face, “I am so sorry to hear that, what can I do?”

That was the question wasn’t it?

“I don’t know….listen, just be there for me,” you offered as a slightly pathetic suggestion.

He nodded, “Sí, of course I can do that.” 

You sat silently for a minute, Javier wasn’t one to lie so you you trusted what he said, trusted that you could in turn trust him. 

“Anything biting?” You asked as you lent towards Javier and looked out at the still water.

He picked up the rod, “Only tiny fish, nothing worth taking back to camp. But, I don’t always fish for the fish you know?” He looked across at you and shrugged a little.

“Oh.” You paused for a moment, “So you like to get away from the others too huh?”

He smiled and nodded, “The camp, all those personalities, all that noise. Sometimes it’s nice to just be alone.” He cocked his head to the side, “especially at the moment, the way things are.”

Thinking on his words you pulled your knees up higher into your chest and squeezed feeling a little bit guilty, “And now I’ve come along and totally ruined that silence with my presence.” You sighed, preparing to get up and leave him to it.

Javier was silent for a moment and then put the rod down again, leaning it against an empty can of beans just in case anything bit. He shuffled on the ground to turn and face you, “Why do you do that?” He asked, he appeared curious, but not angry. 

“Do what?” You had no idea what he was talking about and worried that now you had ruined the relationship the two of you had built, the friendship and companionship you’d found in him. He was one of the few in camp who appeared to understand you and now that was going to be something else from the past, something else to worry and stress about, to feel embarrassed and anxious about.

As these thoughts rushed through your head you felt your chest getting tighter, a sharp pain stabbing in the left hand side, your heart missing a beat and then beating too quickly. The regularity was gone. 

“Y/N?” Javier asked after you hadn’t answered for a while. You heard him but your vision was blurry when you tried to look at him. Focus, you told yourself. But it wasn’t working, you couldn’t focus, not on Javier, not on the serene water of the pond or the sun dipping low in the sky. You were unable to get your breathing under control, a hand went up to your chest and you clenched. 

“Y/N,” you could hear Javier’s voice and could just make out the concern on his face, but when you again tried to focus on his dark and warm eyes, so reassuring and comforting, just nothing only a blur. 

You felt Javier’s hand clasp over yours, his other reached for your knee as he scooted forwards so he was next to you. He squeezed gently in an attempt to bring you out of your current state. 

“Javier, I can’t breath…I can’t..c…” You tried speaking but this only made the situation of your breathing worse to contend with. You shook your head and bent over, your head hanging down, Javier reached up to your hair, scooping it up so it didn’t get dirty in the ground, bringing it back to your head he clasped the back of you and held you steady. Tilting your head up gently so you were inches from his face, his nose pressed against yours. 

“Just breathe, you can do it.” He said softly. “Everything will be okay, I promise. I’m here, I’m not going anywhere, I am here now and will always be there for you okay? There is nothing to be ashamed of, nothing to be embarrassed of, if you’re scared I will protect you.” His stream of words were the most comforting thing you’d experienced in months. You didn’t quite catch all of the words, but it was enough for you to get the gist of what he was saying. You were incredibly grateful that right now in this moment it was him who was sat with you. 

The hand that was over yours now squeezed, his fingers slowly interlocked with yours and he kept it there against your fast beating chest. You’d never been this close to Javier before, in fact you’d never been this close to anyone in camp before but yet this couldn’t have felt more natural. 

“Javier…” you said again, something about his name was soothing and calming to you. You could smell his aftershave, could smell the wax on his boots, whiskey on his breath. He smelt of home, he was warm and comforting. He wasn’t lying, when you were close to him you knew you would always be safe.

You felt your heart starting to slow just a little, although your breaths were coming in fast and your chest still felt as if it were full of butterflies, there was just enough of a change to suggest your body was moving in the right direction and it was thanks to Javier and his presence. 

“Breathe in through your nose, deeply, with me now.” He squeezed your hand a little tighter. 

“Breathe in,” he repeated and you followed his instruction. Your chest was fighting against you, desperate for you to take a quick, sharp breath through your mouth, however, you were determined. This time you ended up spluttering a little, but Javier didn’t withdraw, he wasn’t disgusted, he simply encouraged you to try again.

“Breathe in again, with me.” 

It took several tries but eventually you managed it, several seconds of inhaling in and then holding your breath, you thought of the calm stream and of Javier’s singing round the campfire.

“Breathe out through your mouth, low and slow now.”

Again you breathed with him, slowly, carefully, not scolding yourself if you occasionally missed a beat or got it wrong. 

It took several minutes of breathing almost in silence, just the sound of Javier’s guidance to help and starlings in the distance.

When your heartbeat had returned to normal Javier waited for you to speak, what you noticed however was that even though you had regained control of your breath he remained holding your hand, cupping your head, his nose was still pressed to yours. You inhaled deeply now and let out a sigh as you closed your eyes. Now you pressed a little further without meaning to, your lips were so close to his you could feel his breath on your skin. 

“How are you feeling now?” He asked.

You considered the question, and nodded sheepishly, “Okay…I mean a lot better than five minutes ago, thank you Javier.” As you were feeling more conscious again you became aware of how close you’d become to Javier and slowly pulled away. Javier let go of your head and your hand as you did so, you felt the colour rush up your neck and into your cheeks. You turned away tempting to hide your blush. The Javier that would joke around the campfire would have made a comment on this for sure, however, in this moment he was focused solely on looking after you.

“So, what was that about?” He asked. 

“You asked me why I kept doing something, you sounded…cross. No, wait you didn’t sound cross, I just interpreted you as cross and I worried.”

When Javier didn’t say anything else you took this as a cue to continue, avoiding eye contact you considered what to say next, “So, Javier you are one of the people i’m closest to, you’re one of the few people I can trust. The thought of disappointing you, annoying you, or you finding me embarrassing to be around just sent me into a panic.” It felt better to have it off your chest, even if you did worry about his reaction.

“Look at me,” he said softly. When you looked up at him he reached out for your hands, they were given willingly. His hands were still warm for a moment ago, he clasped yours in his. “I would never, I just want you to know that okay? I would never not want to be friends with you, not be here and looking after you.”

You felt tears well up in your eyes as you looked into his, hanging on his every word. 

“You mean it?”

“Of course, I would not say it if I didn’t mean it.”

“Javier,” you said quietly, slightly scared of the question you were going to ask and what his reaction would be, “Do you think I could have a hug?”

Javier smiled, “Of course.” He leaned in and wrapped both his arms round you, you scooted forward a little bit so you were chest to chest, wrapping your arms around him too. You leant on him, nuzzled into his neck and closed your eyes, “This is nice.” You confessed.

Javier hummed in response, “Yes it is.”

You didn’t want to let go of Javier, didn’t want to be the one to break the connection, but at the same time you didn’t want to hold on for too long. You didn’t want to overstay the welcome, but from everything he said, he never would have thought that. 

“So, whenever you feel like this, whether out on a raid, fishing, in camp…doesn’t matter, you come to me okay?” You nodded, but still didn’t let go of him.

As if sensing your thoughts Javier added, “There’s no rush, we can stay here as long as you like.”

“Thank you. Javier, earlier when you said why do I always do that, what did you mean?”

“I thought it was obvious, I meant why do you always put yourself down? Why don’t you believe in yourself more, you are not a burden, you have achieved amazing things and you’re kind, as well as brave, as well as good with a gun, which together is a hell of a lot more than the majority of those back in camp.”

It was weird to still be hugging Javier whilst having such a serious conversation, but his words meant the world to you. Your heart rate was slower than before, as a complete state of calm washed over you. 

“Thank you Javier, you have no idea how much that means to me. You are one of the few things I am grateful for right now and I couldn’t stand to lose you.”

“And you won’t, I promise.”

Finally you let go of Javier and moved away slowly, your hands returned to their previous position, in one another’s. Javier’s bangs hung over his eyes and he smiled at you. “I am so glad you found me out here today you know?”

“I thought you wanted time alone.”

“Yes and no. Time away from certain people more like,” he gave a small laugh. You knew exactly who he was referring to when he said that. 

“Perhaps, I could stay sat here with you until you’re done fishing?”

“I would like that very much.”

You let go of his hands to allow him to return to the fishing rod. Before returning to fishing he lit a cigarette, it hung idly from the corner of his mouth, he passed his flask of whiskey to you and took a swig before handing it back. Drinking from things that had been in other’s mouths wasn’t something you made a habit of in camp, but with Javier it was different. 

As the sun set, casting orange and red streaks across the sky, neither of you said much, just commented on the weather, whether fish were biting and what flowers you could see. Javier informed you he’d been picking Oleander earlier which he was fashioning into poison arrows and was more than happy to share some of his stock with you.

Occasionally he would hum a tune or sing, though he sung in Spanish and you weren’t sure what he was singing about, the sound was beautiful all the same and helped you to relax further. Normally you loved to listen to him singing, but this moment in particular felt lovely as it was just the two of you, the singing was just for you and him.

As it got dark and the stars started to appear in the sky you found yourself shivering a few times, the coolness of the night air causing goosebumps to appear on your arms.

Javier looked across at you and seeing you shake offered you his jacket. He wound in the fishing line and tidied up before placing it round your shoulders gently, “Here, I don’t want you getting cold.”

You clasped his hand as he lay it on your shoulder, “Thank you Javier, not just for this, for everything, for looking after me and letting me know you’ll be here for me. Just, thank you.” There wasn’t much more to say than that, you feared if you started to talk about it all again you’d get emotional and cry again. This was not the look you wanted to return to camp with and so you stopped yourself before the gushing began.

Javier reached out to help you to your feet, as you sprung upwards you practically fell into his chest. He let out a low chuckle, “Don’t worry I got you.”

Instinct then drove you to hug him once more, you wanted nothing further from him, not right now. But you did want to reinforce how grateful you were for his discretion and kindness. Once again he wrapped his arms around you, at first you weren’t certain but then were sure he had placed a kiss to the crown of your head, gently touching his lips to your hair.

As you climbed up onto your horse you waited for Javier to do the same with Boaz so you could ride side by side back to camp. Maybe there would be questions, but in the line of business you were in, it was easy to say you were out hunting, out fishing, raiding, looking for potential heist locations. And so what if someone did suspect something else? You hadn’t exactly committed a crime had you, well, what a ridiculous thing to think – you’d all committed many crimes, it was more what if tongues wagged about the closeness of the two of you. Again, so what? There were worse people in camp for rumours to be circulating about than Javier, worse people to be caught spending quality time with.

With that you let the thought drift out of your mind, it wasn’t worth thinking on for a moment longer.

Back at camp there were a few looks from Arthur, Molly and Karen, but nothing more than the usual when anyone returned home from being away for the day.

You went back to your tent and spent a while reflecting on the day in your diary, then regretted writing anything down just in case someone should be feeling particularly nosey and decided to have a look into it. But you shoved it underneath your pillow, no one had ever intruded before so what would cause them to do so now.

Later that evening by the light of the campfire Javier was sat round it with his guitar and was playing something that sounded like a love song, but for all you knew he was singing about death. You supposed the two weren’t all that different when all was said and done.

You listened but from a distance, not wanting to get too close to him or to give anyone in the camp the impression that was there anything happening between the two of you. But there wasn’t anything happening. You cursed yourself as you felt your cheeks blushing at the thought of him and the thought of anyone else even beginning to think that anything was transpiring between the two of you.

Just then you felt a hand clamp on your shoulder which made you jump, looking up you saw Arthur stood next to you, “Oh, hey Arthur you alright?”

“Not so bad, you?”

You smiled and nodded enthusiastically, “Oh I’m right as rain.”

He cocked his head to the side, “Really? You haven’t seemed like your usual self recently so I just wanted to check everything was okay with you. Anything going on you need to talk about?” You’d tried to keep Arthur out of your worries and here he was anyway, of course he was here, it was Arthur.

You swallowed, “Well, a bit of trouble, up here,” you pointed to your head, “In here,” pointing to your heart. “But, I talked it out today and am feeling better, not perfect, but I have things under control, I think..”

“With Javier?” Arthur asked.

“Yes, he was so kind, sharing how I felt just made me feel so much better.”

Arthur smiled, “Good, I’m glad you’ve found someone else to confide in.” There was a twinkle in his eye as he spoke, fire reflected in his dark eyes.

You shuffled on the spot, not quite sure what he meant by that, was he annoyed by you and happy now that finally you would go to someone else with your problems? Were you that much of a burden, a thud in your chest, the feeling of your stomach dropping out from under you. You looked over at Javier and tried to recall the conversation from earlier. He was there for you and nothing else mattered.

Sensing your distress Arthur placed his hand back on your shoulder and squeezed, “Y/N please, don’t misunderstand me. I’m always happy to listen, I’m grateful for your friendship, and I know you’ll always return the favour.” You sighed letting out the tension of the past 30 seconds and suddenly remembering how to breathe.

“Sorry, I’m a bit jumpy.”

“I just meant, with all that’s going on nothing is certain. I worry is all, so I’m glad that you have someone else to trust, when,” Arthur coughed and turned his head to the side, “I mean if…anything should happen to me.”

Arthur coughed again, it was deep and guttural, he lifted a handkerchief to his lips and tried to cover it up when he lifted it away from himself but it was too late, you’d seen the blood.

Now it was your turn to reach out to him, “Arthur….” You asked softly. “What’s going on?”

“Not today, I’ll tell you, but not today.” He looked over to Javier, “Go sit by the fire, you feel cold. I’ll bring you a beer.” You were reluctant to move but Arthur reassured you, “Come on now, you don’t know how long Javier will be playing for, I’m sure you’d rather listen to him and lulled into a peaceful sleep than worrying about me.”

You looked at the ground in an attempt to hide your smile, and did exactly as Arthur had said. 

[runnning-outof-time]

Better Than the Dream | Tommy Shelby x Reader

Request: yes by anonymous

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x reader

Summary: After meeting in France, (Y/N) (Y/L/N) and Tommy Shelby were certain that they'd never see each other again...until one fateful moment has Tommy dreaming of her, or maybe he's not dreaming at all.

Warnings: language, mentions of drinking, talk of war, injuries, blood, hospitals

Word Count: 3388

A/N: I….I’m not sure how I feel about this one…as I was finishing it, I realized that it was like my other story ‘Called to Serve’, even though there are some differences to the story. I decided to set it after Tommy’s injury in season 2. Enjoy! :)

A/N 2: also I’m sorry this is being posted late…I didn’t have much time to get it edited today.

PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!

Comment/Message me if you’d like to be tagged in future stories similar to this one!

"Would you stop fucking wincing? You're gonna get that bloody thing stuck into me hand as well," Tommy grumbled as he continued to hold down pressure on his fellow soldier's hand so that he wouldn't bleed out anymore than he had already.

"I'm trying me best, Sergeant Major...it really fucking stings though," Donny, the unfortunate one who'd gotten barbed wire stuck in his hand while their company was on overhaul, responded, the second half of his words coming out like a hiss as he winced yet again.

The curtain that was separating the bed and chair these two men were occupying moved before Tommy could say anything else. From behind it came a woman, dressed in a nurse's outfit with a clipboard in her hands. "Donald White?" she asked as she looked up from the papers, a polite smile on her face.

"That'd be me," Donny responded, raising his good hand as he spoke, "me Sergeant Major's come with me...he needed to make sure the bleeding was controlled," he added then, explaining the other man's presence.

"Hi," she sent a nod and a smile in his direction, almost immediately noticing the pair of ocean blue eyes he had. She had to look back at the patient so that she didn't get sucked into them. "What's happened here?" she asked then, focusing on the injury.

"We were doing overhaul and I got this section of barbed wire stuck in me hand. Most of it was able to be removed, but there's still some left inside," Donny explained. Tommy let go of the cloth he'd been applying pressure to so that Donny could unwrap it and show the nurse the extent of the injury.

The woman nodded almost immediately after seeing the damage that had been done. It was pretty obvious that there was at least one barb and some wire still stuck in his palm. "I'm going to get the doctor to come over...he'll be able to extract it," she explained the next steps of treatment as she went about writing some things down on the clipboard.

"You've an English accent," Donny pointed out, a bit of a smile forming on his face. Neither he, nor Tommy, were expecting to hear one in a French run hospital.

"I do," the nurse answered, laughing slightly.

"Where're ya from?" Donny asked.

"Solihull," she answered with a polite smile.

"Ahh, ok," Donny nodded.

"I'm going to get the doctor now so that he can have a look at your hand. My name's (Y/N), if you need anything," she addressed both of the soldiers then, sending them one last smile before she turned and exited the closed off area.

Donny turned to Tommy with a grin seconds after (Y/N) had exited the room they were in. "She's fuckin' gorgeous, ain't she?" he asked, nudging Tommy's arm with his good hand. Tommy finally brought his eyes away from the section of curtain (Y/N) had exited through to look at his comrade. He didn't have to say anything, because the second Donny saw his face, he was speaking again, "yeah, she is...got you too stunned to speak," he ragged on his superior like they were part of the same rank again, and all Tommy could do was roll his eyes.

He wasn't going to deny something that was as obvious as the light of day. Their company had been given a week-long reprieve, and even though they were only one day into it, Tommy knew that he wasn't going to see a woman that was more beautiful than her. So he kept his mouth shut and listened to Donny's goading, allowing him some time to soak it up while he was injured.

——

Tommy returned to the same wing that he'd left his fellow soldier in two days ago, keeping his eyes peeled for the woman who he couldn't seem to get out of his mind since she left the room the other day. He, thankfully, found her, standing at one of the nurse's stations at the end of the hall.

"(Y/N), isn't it?" he asked as he approached her, successfully getting her attention.

"It is," she answered as she turned to smile at him, "what is it, Sergeant Major? Are you looking for Donny?" she asked, her voice sounding like sweet music to his ears.

"I'm not...was looking for you actually," he answered her, not caring how straightforward he sounded.

(Y/N)'s eyes widened slightly out of surprise when she heard his statement. "Me?" she checked to make sure, tilting her head slightly to show her interest in the answer.

"Yeah," Tommy nodded, "I was wondering if you'd want to go out and get a drink after your shift's finished?" he boldly asked her. A more pronounced look of surprise formed on (Y/N)'s face. That immediately made Tommy backtrack, "that might have been a bit too forward of me. I haven't even asked if you have someone, or if you're busy."

"No, it's fine," (Y/N) brushed him off, "I quite like the confidence actually," she added then, flashing a smile and letting out a slight laugh.

"So you'd be willing to join me?" he asked her, allowing a smile to form on his face. Her laugh, much like her voice, was music to his ears.

(Y/N) nodded before giving a verbal answer, "yes. My shift finishes at the top of the hour."

"I'll meet you outside," Tommy suggested, making her nod again. He nodded back, showing that he was happy that the plans had been finalized, before he decided he'd let her get back to work. "Which room was Donny in actually?" he asked her after she'd taken a few steps away from him.

She turned around to smile at him. "So you weren't only here for me?" she decided to tease him slightly.

"No. Just figured I'd see him while I'm here," he grinned, loving her attitude and the fact that she was able to banter with him despite everything going on around them.

"He's four doors down," she told him, pointing past him down the hallway.

"Thank you," he said to her, nodding one last time before he turned and went to his comrade's room.

—

"Are you only here because of Donny?" (Y/N) asked once their laughter caused by a story Tommy had told trailed off. She had her head rested on her arm that was propped up on the bar, and she was giving Tommy her full attention.

"No," he shook his head, looking briefly down at his glass as he let out a soft scoff, "we were granted a week's leave and sent into town instead of home...someone thought it'd be less money to keep us close. Cheap bastards," he explained then, muttering the final two words under his breath.

"Donny's having a terrible week off then," she commented, remembering the man that had come into her ward the other day.

"He managed to do it while we were doing overhaul," he shared another detail about the accident with her.

"Tough luck," (Y/N) stated, shaking her head as a look of sympathy formed on her face.

"That's Donny for you," Tommy responded, chuckling slightly at the thought of his friend.

"So where do they have you staying?" she asked him then, moving their conversation to another topic.

"A boarding house in town," he answered before adding, "it's an absolute shit hole."

(Y/N) sent him a sympathetic smile before looking at the bar. "I don't have anyone," she said out of nowhere, her statement shifting the topic of conversation yet again.

"What?" Tommy asked her, his brows furrowed as he looked at her once more. He was confused by her sudden statement, unsure of how to link it to what they'd been talking about.

"You said before that you hadn't asked if I had someone...I don't," she filled him in, calling back to the statement that he'd made at the hospital. Tommy nodded his head in response to her statement and looked at his glass again. Silence fell between them for a moment before she spoke again: "do you have anyone?" she asked him, her question making his eyes snap to hers in seconds.

He looked her over, his brows slightly furrowed in surprise. He didn't expect her to ask such a question. But he wasn't going to waste time answering it. "No," he told her, shaking his head for extra measure.

(Y/N) felt her throat go dry at his answer. Am I really going to do this? she asked herself, taking a moment to think her choices over. "It might be a bit forward of me to ask this, but..." she trailed off, thinking over it again. Ah, why not? "Would you like to come home with me tonight?" she asked her question, rushing to get in: "it'd give you a chance to sleep in a proper bed," so that her intentions weren't that out there in the open.

Who could blame her though? Almost all of the men around her age living here had gone off to fight as well. There wasn't anyone left, and as much as she hated to admit it...she still had desires too. And the fact that Tommy was a good looking man greatly helped the cause.

Tommy looked her over again after hearing her proposition. A grin ghosted over his lips as he nodded his head slightly before answering, "I would like that."

His answer made the fire that (Y/N) had been feeling in her stomach since the moment he'd found her today begin to burn out of control. She couldn't help but exude a giggle, feeling giddy that her attempt had actually worked.

"Would you...want to get out of here now?" Tommy asked her then, trailing off in the middle of his sentence, but completing it before she could interject with anything.

"Yes," her answer was said in a breathless manner, but he heard her loud and clear, and the two left the bar after paying what they owed.

—

The door to the apartment was barely shut before Tommy had trapped (Y/N) in his arms. It was no secret what the two wanted from each other. The hand holding and shoulder brushing on the walk back made it rather clear. But still, his kiss took (Y/N)'s breath away, and the way that her hands were roaming his body made Tommy feel dizzy; something he hadn't felt with the women he'd been with before.

Every night for the rest of the week ended that way for Tommy and (Y/N). He would come to the hospital to check in on Donny and then would wait around for the rest of (Y/N)'s shift until she could leave. They'd go to the tavern for some drinks before winding up at her apartment again; where they'd end the night wrapped up in each others' arms.

It was a nice arrangement, one that lasted right up until Tommy came to the hospital at the end of the week. Donny was being released after his stay (his hand had thankfully healed without infection) and their unit was due to move onto another station. Which meant that it was time for Tommy and (Y/N) to say goodbye.

The two soldiers were walking down the hallway when (Y/N) exited one of the rooms she was cleaning. Her eyes immediately found Tommy, and they widened visibly. Without thinking, she backed up into the room in hopes that he wouldn't have seen her. But the knock on the door told her otherwise. Of course, she let him in.

"I wanted to say goodbye...before we shipped out to our next station," Tommy started, a solemn look on his face. Spending time with her this past week was the closest to normal he'd gotten in a long time.

"I appreciate that," (Y/N) answered, a sad smile forming on her face as her eyes met his for a moment. She didn't have it in her to hold his gaze for it might have made her start to cry.

"This past week was lovely, (Y/N)," he told her, taking her hands into his. "Thank you."

"I enjoyed it too," she answered, her heart squeezing as she admitted this. It was making the situation all the more real.

"C-can I kiss you one last time?" he asked her then, wanting to kick himself for how juvenile he sounded.

"Please," she breathed quicker than she would have liked, but the timing didn't phase Tommy. Upon hearing her answer, he dropped her hands and grabbed her cheeks, pulling her to him for one last head-spinning kiss. They broke away moments after, their foreheads finding each other. "Goodbye, Tommy," (Y/N) was the first to speak, and she hated that her voice cracked when she said these two words.

"Goodbye, (Y/N)," he repeated her farewell, lifting his head so that he could press his lips to her forehead before he dropped his hands from her completely.

They offered each other a sad smile before he exited the room, leaving her alone once again.

"So that's why you were coming to see me every bloody day, eh?" Donny questioned with a wide grin on his face once Tommy was back by his side.

"Fuck off, Donny," Tommy grumbled, not in the mood for the banter.

"Ahh, I get it. It's hard to leave," Donny commented, picking up the signals that Tommy was putting down.

The two walked out of the hospital then without saying another word to each other. Back inside, (Y/N) had to put a smile back onto her face before she re-entered the hallway, even though she was hurting because she knew she’d never see Tommy Shelby again.

——

—1921—

Tommy was slipping in and out of consciousness as he was carried by stretcher into the hospital. He couldn't remember much from the beating he’d gotten; just that Sabini had been standing over him, grinning, as one of his men aimed a revolver at him. The Italians then scattered after another weapon was fired, and Campbell became visible before he blacked out completely.

He knew he was at a hospital now. The blinding, overhead lights of the operating room easily gave it away. There were doctors working on him. He could just barely feel their prodding as they tried to figure out the extent of his injuries. Every inch of his body hurt. It hurt just to think, and he couldn’t bear it much longer. So he closed his eyes and allowed complete blackness to overtake him.

The room was much darker when Tommy woke again. He looked around as best as he could, trying to get familiar with his surroundings. Things were starting to come together when he felt something touch his cheek. He jerked his face away before quickly turning his head to see (Y/N) (Y/L/N) with a rag in her hands. She looked worried, but not put off by his sudden movement.

"You...you found me again?" Tommy stammered, his voice coming out in a hoarse whisper. It was slowly becoming apparent to him that he was in her apartment in France.

"You were attacked. They brought you here," she explained to him while dipping the rag into a bowl, "I need to get you cleaned up." He nodded and allowed her to continue on with what she was doing.

"Can I hold you again?" he asked after silence had been hanging between them for a few moments.

She looked around the room for a moment, which Tommy found odd. "You can," she then answered, and he wasted no time in opening his arms for her. She smiled before moving into them.

Tommy inhaled her scent as she settled in his arms. He found it odd that he couldn't really feel her, but he didn't think too much into it. He had her again. "Can I stay here with you forever?" he asked after they'd been still for a few minutes.

(Y/N) giggled as she heard his question. "I'm not sure if you'd be allowed to..." she trailed off, her smile a sight for his sore eyes.

"What do you mean?" he furrowed his brows, confused by her response.

"Wake up, Tommy," she said to him, her statement confusing him even more. In what way is that a response to my question? he wondered, but yet he couldn't ask her because she was speaking again, "Tommy..." this time her statement was accompanied with a slight shake.

Things got much brighter in the room then, so bright that it made Tommy squeeze his eyes shut. He couldn't handle the pain that it was causing in his head. When he opened his eyes again, everything was different. He was no longer in (Y/N)'s apartment, instead he was in what looked to be a rather large hospital room. He was laying down instead of sitting, and he didn't have his arms around the woman he couldn't seem to erase from his mind. But she was still in front of him.

"(Y/N)..." he said her name, his voice still groggy. He felt a heaviness in his hand and it made him glance down to find that he was holding hers. "Wha...how are you here?" he asked, his confusion apparent in his words.

"I'm your nurse, Tommy," she answered him, throwing the formalities out the window. She felt that they were past all of that.

"Are we still in France?" he asked her next. This hospital seemed to be in much better condition than the one he remembered meeting her in, but it was the only way he could make this make sense.

"No," she shook her head softly, a gentle smile on her face. This information made Tommy's brow furrowed in confusion. "I think you were having a dream, Tommy," (Y/N) spoke up when she noticed his expression.

"But you're still here..." he trailed off, voicing the part that he was most confused about. He was unsure in saying it though because he didn't want her to disappear when he admitted this observation.

"I moved from Solihull after a position opened up. I work here now," she explained to him, her answer making his confusion dissipate. He simply nodded at this new information, taking a moment to think about what it meant.

Silence fell between them after she finished speaking, and she took that as her go ahead to complete some of the tests that she was required to run.

Tommy was the one to speak after a few minutes had passed, "so you're in Birmingham for good now?" he questioned her, watching intently as she continued checking him.

"I am," she answered, not losing focus on what she was doing. Another period of silence began. (Y/N) waited until she was finished with her tasks before she looked at him again. "So the dream you had..." she started off, unsure of how she'd word the question that had been burning in her mind since he came to, "is me being here better, or worse?"

Tommy chuckled slightly at her question, "oh this is better, love. You being here now is way better than the dream," he told her, a grin tugging the corner of his lips upwards. (Y/N) smiled at his admission. "And this may be a bit straightforward, but I wanted to know if I could take you out for dinner?" he asked her then, not wanting to waste any more time in getting them reacquainted with each other, "if you don't have anyone, that is," he added to the end.

(Y/N) giggled slightly as his final statement made her think back to the first night they shared with each other. "I don't have anyone," she started, a smile forming on her face, "and I'd love to have dinner with you, but..." she trailed off then, biting on her bottom lip. Tommy sat up straighter as he waited intently for what she would say next. (Y/N) noticed this and couldn't help but smile as she delivered the rest of her statement, "we need to make sure you get healthy first."

Tagged: @mgcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21 @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @notyour-valentine @shelbydelrey @december16-1991 @onlydeadcells @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @midnightmagpiemama @cillmequick @rangerelik @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @raincoffeeandfandoms @itscheybaby @gypsy-girl-08 @lora21 @insanitybyanothername @depxiety @dragons-are-my-favorite @acewritesfics @forgottenpeakywriter @cilliansangel @cljordan-imperium @areyenotfondofmelobster @little-diable

MASTERLIST

[heyclickadee]

Discussion of possible Bad Batch spoilers under the cut:

Full credit to @eriexplosion for basically all of this, to begin with. They found this article from Collider with another pre-season interview, and it’s kind of interesting It’s mostly about Fives, Echo, and how the writers wanted to include a conversation about Fives between Rex and Echo, but never found a place to put it and so imagine it having happened off screen. And that’s actually all very interesting and kind of what I expected—that they’d thought about it but weren’t sure where to put it. But there is also a segment where they look forward to season three, and in that segment, we get this:

Okay, first off, full credit to @eriexplosion again for pointing out the “or is he?” because I blazed right past that.

Second, Collider has the review copies. The person who wrote this article, Arezou Amin, isn’t the same person at Collider who posted their impression of the first eight episodes on social media (Maggie Lovitt), and may not have seen the review episodes. But Maggie Lovitt, who also conducted the interview on which the write-up is based, has, and she probably involved in at least checking over the write-up, and therefore at least didn’t demand that, “Or is he?” be taken out. Meaning there’s a good chance it’s there on purpose with someone in the know not objecting to it.

Third, “Or is he?” OR IS HE? oR iS he?? Oooorrrr iiisssss hhheeeeeeeeeee I’m chewing on your drywall, Collider.

And fifth, joking aside, I think that this, combined with everything else, and the deleted Joel Aron tweet actually gives us a good idea of where the lines for how people in the know are allowed to talk about Tech are. People at media outlets outside Lucasfilm can say he’s dead outright (whether or not they know for sure). People in the cast and crew can’t say that outright; they can talk about it very seriously and as though he’s gone, but they have to use euphemisms that they don’t have to with other characters, and they always have to leave at least a bit (and sometimes a lot) of wiggle room in their phrasing for him to be alive. Those euphemisms have a pattern to them and a lot of the phrasing makes the most sense if Tech is coming back in a way that severely limits what he can do in the field, if he can be part of the action in the field at all. And people writing the summaries for the Star Wars website have to write the most non-committal things possible, like, “Tech fell from a tram car.”

Cast and crew also can’t outright say that he’s alive, but they can hint at it, and hint pretty directly. Like. Really directly. “Gently cupping the faces of the audience and telling them that it’s going to be okay” kind of directly. And repeatedly. What they seemingly can’t hint about, however, is how Tech might be coming back or where he might be—even IF the hints are misleading or possibly unintentional (either of which which the deleted Joel Aron tweet might have been).

Which honestly just makes me think that the how rather than the if was what the people involved thought would be the center of all the speculation.

Edit: Apparently the official Star Wars website can use the word death in the editorial part of interviews. I should, however, not that the DBB interview that went up today is the only one to have done so, and that DBB himself never said Tech died. What he actually says fits into the pattern of what he’s been saying for months.

[fryktheciller]

with you, though

anderperry + charlie being a slut

summary: neil freaking out at the flower shop

Wind through the hair, sunlight on the face, and sunglasses sitting proudly on the nose—that’s definitely not Neil, at least not now. That's, most definitely, Charlie Dalton, driving a car that wasn't his, without a license, and with Knox's clothes. He's so cunty one might actually think he owns both the car and the clothes and has the right to drive. 

Neil’s poor soul is tortured and has been for quite a while. He had asked Todd out, and the interaction went a little like this:

–Todd, listen… would you like...i mean, if you want to of course, to hang out- I mean, go out? Next...next week, perhaps? After the latin test?

The blonde blushed at the request and the eloquence it was made with. He replies in one breath and with anxiety:

–Yes, I mean... It would be great. Saturday's good. Sure

Neil noticed, other than the embarrassment the roommate replied with, a glint in his eyes, bright and sparkling, perhaps even more than the light that was kissing his face and brown locks. That light—that's what tortures him ever so sweetly; it has bewitched him completely. 

With Charlie, he had to get flowers—not really because he wanted to, but rather because of Charlie himself, who claims to know everything about dating. They get out of the car (alive and well, against every expectation) and get into the tiny little flower shop, filled with bright and intense-smelling blooms.

 –Whatcha getting him?

–Have no clue, honestly.

–Now that's the spirit!– and Dalton smiles, patting Neil on the shoulder. –I'll be over there with the short brunette; call me if you need anything. 

Perry nods, without even listening, and watches him leave. He had thought about everything but the flowers and blames himself for that, partially because he doesn't have a clue about what flowers Todd likes and because he doesn't really know if he wants flowers in the first place.

He starts wandering slowly between the big, black buckets filled with seasonal blossoms. Pretty much everything blooms in that period; if there were fewer flowers, it could have been easier, Neil swore. 

Asking Charlie isn't an option. "He'll make me get some roses and end it there. I adore Charlie, but for pity's sake.” He thinks, reading the Latin names written on some wooden signs inside the buckets. 

“Which nouns were irregular? Uuh… mater, matris; pater patris, and then what? The flowers, god."

Some wild roses had something mischievous in the way they stood proud, with open petals and straight stems. “It's a Goethe reference, you silly!” they looked like they were saying.

Neil falls for that a little and bends down to look at them better: florid yet so young, sweet and wild, and a rosy color that was so elegant and bright at the same time. 

“Like when he comes out of the shower and into the room, all flushed with wet hair,” and blames himself for thinking such things in a public place.

He gets up and walks away, over to a table filled with green and smaller buckets. There were tulips, standing like they were about to wither, even though sunlight was over them entirely. 

“Tulipa sylvestris… Tulipa is from the first declination; Sylvestris is from... Sylvester, perhaps?

Did he write something about them? Did I read something? 

No, no, no, he said his mother loved them.” 

And he moves on, walking over to the hyacinths, the purple ones. They stood proud, almost stern, in the shadow. 

“They mean joy... or I’m proud of you? Don't remember.It would be cute, though; I give him the flowers and go, “I got these for you because I'm proud of you,”” and he smiles stupidly, like only a fool who’s in love does.

He sees clearly now. Looks over at Charlie, who turns around and flashes one of his iconic grins. “I love Charlie; like, look at him” and smiles again.

He moves on, now with an actual idea in mind. 

“Philadelphus coronarius, both from the second declination. Oh, so pretty,” and smiles once again. “They look like orange blooms. That’s what that poem was about; where did he even see these?” and he looks at them, white and canid. Petals so thin they were almost transparent; the faintly colored pistil; the thin stems, somehow so resistant to hold 8 to even 12 buds of flowers; and then the leaves, so dark and intense, almost to compensate for the purity and innocence the petals transmitted. He moves his attention to Charlie’s coarse and vibrant laughter and the girl’s sweeter one. “He's taking her to bed tonight.”.

There was a tiny ant breaking the flower’s fairness, walking expertly between petals and blooms.

“He wanted to spend a summer in Greece or Italy; that’s what he told me. They have such a faint, bitter scent, too.” and he bent down, his gaze still following the ant. 

“The light in his eyes when he told me that...” and he smiled foolishly. 

A second later, he’s looking at a blondie, wrapping up a sprig of mock oranges and a couple of wild roses that begged him so much to choose them in a light brown paper. “How did Calvino’s story go? Je voyage en amour? Perhaps.” That’s not really his case: traveling for love, but he felt the same way. The blondie’s delicate hands were now tying a fine white lace around the small bouquet. 

Charlie reaches him, holding the flowers as Neil paid for them. Once done, he turns around and smiles faintly, to which Charlie replies with a much sweeter grin than usual. "Homosexuals,” he thought, with irony and fondness, as if he weren't bisexual himself. 

–Think he’ll like them?

–Of course, trust me. 

Neil smiles at him, a weird feeling in his stomach and dizziness seizing him again. He got in the car, followed by Charlie.

–The short brunette wanted to get to know you, told her you were taken.

Charlie blurts out with a chuckle; the other laughs heartily and smiles sarcastically, turning at him.

–Yes, Charlie. Thank you.

***

With a heavy breath and the hair sticking to his sweaty forehead, Todd wakes up abruptly and sits up on the bed. The room's dark, the air stale and hot. He takes off the light wool blanket from his knees and gets up, opening the tiny window and moving a thin curtain. April’s moonlight enters shyly into the room, lighting a messy bed with undone sheets and a perfect one: sheets tight and covers straight. 

“It was a dream; I was dreaming,” the blonde whispers to himself, in front of the window, all cold from the night's humidity. The knot in his throat tightens, his limbs are numb, and something like butterflies starts to move in his stomach. His eyes burn with tears that start to fall, hot and slowly, one by one, wetting the pajama shirt or making a slight plop on the wooden floor. 

–I did want to go to Italy or Greece. With you, though. 

The blonde goes back to bed, body heavy and mind numb. The thought of the next day’s classes makes it hard to breathe. His head hurts,his lips contort downwards, eyebrows furrowed and it hurts to keep that expression on; there’s nothing he can do anyway, tears steaming uglily and wetting the messy flannel sheets, his arms wrapped around his stomach, in a fetal position under the blanket, freezing and sweating at the same time, as the cool wind moved slightly the curtain. 

One second later, he’s awoken by the loud halls and the sun lighting up the room. His face is still sticky from the tears; a sense of tiredness in every inch of his body only made him want to cry more, but he’s just too tired of the swamp of pain he’s been in for almost 6 months. Images of spring are still running through his mind, as if nothing happened: long afternoons spent studying in the sunlight and coming back into the dorm rooms when the sun starts peaking.

Spring is when everything is reborn—everything, but Todd.

notes: hi!! i want to start by apologizing, i have no right to write such outrageous things; with that being said, this has been sitting in a corner of my google docs page for like months, and after editing for weeks it still feels really off but i cant tell if its just me or the whole idea is completely mad ok

[writefullyrobin]

No spoilers past 2x12 if possible folks!

2x11 – New Beginnings thoughts

This was a really fun episode. I think it’s probably one of my favourite from this season so far. It was jam packed with good stuff!

The first emergency in the clinic with the woman whose doctors were knocked out during the surgery leaving her with her face literally hanging off was disgusting. Each to their own but I am never going under the knife! Nope, nada! It was an amusing emergency for all it was pretty serious but yeah.

I’m glad Buck asked how the patient was awake while everyone else was still under – oxygen – because I was also wondering the same. I’m glad it was answered!

We’ve had a time jump too. The body cam’s show it now being March so about three months. In which Chim has apparently managed to befriend Jason aka Doug. I am not OK with this either. Nope. Doug is clever, integrating himself into Maddie’s circle by avoiding Buck and targeting the one he knows is very close to Maddie.

Michael teasing Bobby about meeting the in-laws was funny because he knows exactly how it is to be in Bobby’s shoes right now. The teasing delayed him though so he didn’t escape catching up with them.

Athena’s parents disapproval was sort of expected. The kids and Michael have been so welcoming to Bobby that there needed to be some conflict about Bobby joining the family somewhere. Made sense it would be her parents. And I understand her mother’s concerns about Athena being hurt again, but that’s part of life. It’s a risk you take. It didn’t really get resolved this ep so I’m anticipating more in-law drama at some point.

I loved the child abduction plot this ep. So very clever and it was great watching Athena piece it all together. It couldn’t have happened without Stevie gaining the courage to help the second kidnapped kid though. He didn’t do it for himself, he did it for the other boy and it was so brave of him.

I think that was my favourite Athena case so far. Her chat with a rescued Stevie and her empathy and compassion was brilliant. I’m glad it got a happy ending.

There is a shark attack on the highway… not the usual place you’d expect one to occur! Ingenious way of transporting the shark but I don’t think that’s what ladder trucks were designed to do. That’s a big shark! I was worried it would break!

Maddie filed for divorce… this is gonna be the breaking point… yep it was. I was screaming at the end of this ep. Doug now has Maddie and he’s stabbed Chim! I am freaking out!!

On another note, I'm thinking of adding a new show in the New Year so if anyone has any recs, please let me know!

~Robin~

[rfsak2]

Spitfire, Part 5

This is another long post. Part of me thinks they will continue to get longer as the seasons get more complicated. I’m excited though because after Season 4, Alexandria/Negan are prime Daryl.

Let me know what you think! 

Spitfire, Pt. 5

Everyone always thought Daryl was the rough one. DarylxOC

Warnings: violence, emotions, injuries, character death/characters feared dead, smut under the cut

Part 4

She perched on Daryl’s lap, settling against his chest, then crossed her legs, almost demurely, between his spread legs. She looked up, catching Glenn’s exasperated glance. 

Daryl snuck his arm around her waist, big hand falling on the outside of her thigh. 

She shrugged. “What?”

Hershel hid a smile. “This is a council meeting.”

She nodded. “There are no more chairs.”

They all turned to see the stack of chairs in one corner of the library.

She waved dismissively. “There are no more chairs over here. I’m lazy.”

She felt more than heard Daryl’s chuckle. She glanced back at him and he didn’t meet her eye. A second later he felt his finger tracing the outside seam of her jeans… then the inside seam.

She pinched the inside of his other thigh, watching out of the corner of her eye as he bit at his lip.

Maggie snickered. “Alright, then.” 

Hershel nodded. “Let's start with the back side of the prison. Walkers have been wandering in again. One got into the tombs.”

Sasha sat forward. “We can try to lure them away. Set up a boombox a half mile out. Mitzi and I can take down any too stuck to get out.”

Carol nodded. “We need something more permanent. The old torn-down walls help keep some out but they clearly aren’t secure enough.”

Daryl hummed. “Found an old excavator. If we can find diesel n’someone to drive it, we can probably clear it pretty easy. Find a way to replace the fence.”

Maggie spoke up. “I can drive it.”

Mitzi made a note on a little sheet of paper. “So: diesel and fencing. We can probably get most of that from the same construction site where the excavator is. We’ll just need to clear it. There were about twenty walkers in there last time we rode by.”

“I’ll gather some people up.” Glenn nodded to Sasha and Mitzi. “Between the two of you, we should be able to clear it pretty quickly.” 

They all agreed and the conversation moved to another topic. Daryl pointed at her notepad, his free hand drawing a nonsensical design that arched closer and closer to her inner thigh. “What’s this word?”

“‘Escavater’.” She scribbled something, hiding her pad, and showed it to him. Frisky?

He chuckled. “That’s not how it’s spelled.” He nabbed her pen and scratched it out, spelling it correctly and adding: you know what you did.

Laughing, she grabbed it back, pretending to scratch out the misspelled word. “I was in the Army, not the Air Force. What d’ya expect?” Don’t know what you’re talking about at all.

Bending over my bike like a fucking porn star.

Who me?

I’m gonna fu-

“Mitzi?”

She hummed, trying not to startle, like she had been caught doing exactly what they had been doing. She looked up. 

Hershel grinned back. “Do I need to separate you?”

“No, sir.” She shook her head, almost childishly. “Can’t spell. Daryl was helpin’ me. What was the question?”

He chuckled. “Ammo?”

“We did pretty good when we scavenged at that pop-up army tent-camp last month.” She shrugged. “As always, we need to keep our eye on it and keep a look out for more munitions but we’re pretty stocked.”

Daryl’s hand on her thigh pulled her ass tight to his crotch. She pinched him again, higher. He captured her hand and held it to his thigh, knowing that her crossed legs hid his lower half almost completely.

Glenn sat forward. “Do you think we have enough to start teaching and target practice up again?”

“Yeah, probably, but.” She considered that, trying to keep her voice level. “We need to see how bad the old training ground has gotten. D spotted a herd heading that way last month.”

Daryl nodded, rubbing his bristly chin over her exposed upper arm. “We can swing by on our next run n’see.”

“What about hand-to-hand? Can we start working on that?”

“Sure.” She shrugged, pulling her hand back from his thigh from where he had been inching it up. “Anytime. I think people are just a little nervous because of the rumors that’ve been runnin’ ‘round.”

Maggie giggled and Mitzi was briefly anxious that Maggie knew what was happening across the table. “Is it a rumor if it’s true? You did beat that guy up a couple of weeks ago.”

Daryl grunted, grumbling under his breath. “Less than he deserved.”

Mitzi made a face and folded her hands primly in front of her, partially to get them away from Daryl. “Y’all didn’t see Daryl go for his knife. I saved him from being knife throwing practice. Besides, he was fine. He just had a black eye-”

Glenn hung his head, smiling despite trying to stay serious. “And a broken wrist?”

She shook her head. “That was an accident. Scared me poppin’ up behind me like that.”

“You'll start tomorrow, then. If that’s okay?”

Mitzi saluted. 

**

She smiled as she laid her cheek against his chest, sweaty and satisfied.

Daryl wrapped a red spiral around his finger, rubbing his thumb over it gently.

Busying herself with idly drawing patterns over his chest, she lightly scratched at his nipple. She giggled when he captured her hand and lifted it to his mouth and Daryl bit lightly into the meat of her palm. 

“Gonna start teaching hand-to-hand t’morrow, yeah?”

She nodded against his chest, yawning. “Are you cool with being my Vanna White?”

He snorted. “What d’ya need help with?”

“Demonstration.” She turned more on her stomach so she could prop her chin up on his chest. “Put me in a chokehold-“

He started shaking his head and she trailed off. “What’s wrong?”

“Ain’t puttin’ my hands on ya like that, no way.”

Her head tilted in confusion. “Baby, that wouldn’t be the context.”

He grunted. “I know that, but I ain’t doin’ it.”

She nodded, pressing closer so she could lay her cheek against his. “Ok.” She pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I’ll ask Glenn.”

He breathed deep, trying to relax the sudden rigidity in his muscles. “My father beat the shit outta me n’my mom. And I know your dad n’grandpa beat ya. I ain’t doin’ it or nothing close to it.”

She smiled against his neck. “I have never, ever thought you’d raise a hand t’me. It didn’t even cross my mind that those two things would be- or feel -the same for you. If it had, I wouldn’t ‘ve asked you, D.”

He nodded affirmatively. “I’ll be there to help ya, but I ain’t putting my hands around your neck or pretending to hurt you no how.”

They quieted and she settled back, tracing designs in his chest. “Y’know, you are the only person I ever dated, even before the military, that treats me the way y’do.”

He calmed. “How d’ya mean?”

“Like I’m glass… not fragile necessarily, but valuable.”

He nodded, running his fingers up and down her side. “How’d they treat ya?”

She shrugged. “Not always bad necessarily… just rough, I guess they were always aware that I could handle rougher treatment. Never really had anyone protect me or think twice about how they treated me. I don’t know. Didn’t date that much anyways so I guess I didn’t really think about it. But there’s always been a noticeable difference between you n’ them anyways.”

Daryl breathed deeply, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “I know you can handle it… me being rougher with you, doing the shit you do- are asked t’do.”

She smiled. “You know that is literally what I would have done if this shit never happened right? If we had met before the turn.”

“True, I guess.”

She sighed. “I don’t think you would’ve wanted t’be with me, to be honest. I was gone all the time, in foreign locales I couldn’t tell you about, doing things and killing people I couldn't tell you about. I was… broken by alotta it and pretty cold by the end. As much I’d wanna fuck you, I probably wouldn’t ‘ve been very nice.”

“You were never broken. I don’t believe that.” He shook his head. “Besides… Would’ve still wanted ya.”

She stared up at him with a soft smile. “You would’ve been the only one, I didn’t even want myself most days.” She pressed a kiss to his nose. “On the bright side, with my salary and all the extras, you coulda just stayed home and been my house-husband. Do whatever you wanted to do, customize bikes, hunt, fish, learn how to surf, whatever.”

“House-husband?” He rolled his eyes, pulling her over him so she laid against him. “Wouldn’t ‘ve just let you work and sit around doin’ nothin’.” 

“No, you wouldn’t ‘ve.” She conceded. “You don’t have a lazy bone in your body. But you wouldn’t have had to do something you weren’t interested in just to earn a living and I woulda liked to be able to give you that. Woulda made it more worth it.” 

He made a face like he was considering it. “Made money, then?”

She chuckled. “Yeah, I made money. Between base pay, base-approved housing, hazard pay, the occasional special demonstration or competition, I socked away money like no one’s business.” She grinned up at him. “You woulda been a well-kept man.”

He snorted. “Some trophy husband.”

She pinched his side. “You vastly underestimate how attractive you are. I woulda had to beat off the other officer’s wives.”

He shrugged, uncomfortable, and she let the conversation go. 

He sighed after a minute. “I wouldn’t ‘ve liked it then, anymore than I like it now. Money or no.”

“Gotta do somethin’.” She shrugged. “This just happens to be what I’m good at.”

He nodded. “I know you’re trained to do these things, that you’re good at ‘em, that you are tough as nails, but I don’t want you to hafta, to hafta be. Like that’s all you’re good for.”

“I don’t.” She thumbed at his bottom lip. “If it was all I was good for, who’d keep you in clean clothes?”

He groaned. “I can do it, I just forget.”

“I know, baby.” She leaned up to kiss him. “I don’t mind doin’ the laundry. If I did, there’d be nothin’ you could do t‘make me.”

She settled back against his chest and was dozing off when he spoke. “Love ya.”

She smiled. “Love ya too.”

**

“Alright. Let’s get started.” Mitzi smiled, hands on her hips. “For most of you, this is gonna just be basic self-defense, how to keep a walker off of you long enough to pull a knife, how to break a headlock or a chokehold, that kinda stuff.”

Glenn grinned from where he stood in the small crowd that had gathered around her and raised his hand. “So you’re not going to be teaching me to kill someone with a spoon?”

She laughed. “Not t’day. That’s a special lesson.”

Zach raised his hand. “So you can, though?”

“Can what?”

“Kill someone with a spoon?” Zach grinned at Glenn

She shrugged. “You can kill someone with anythin’ if y’try hard enough.”

Zach watched her with a comically suspicious face. “Exactly what I’d expect a… internationally renowned martial artist to say.”

Mitzi frowned, head tilting in confusion. “What?”

“That's what you did before the turn. You were a martial artist.”

She snorted and glanced back at Daryl. “Y’know, Glenn knows what I did before the turn.”

“I told him not to tell me. I want to guess.”

“A’ight.” Mitzi shrugged. “You do you.”

“Back on topic.” Glenn nodded. “I want to start by learning to kill someone with a spoon.”

“She said later.” Daryl groused from where he sat on the low wall to the newly erected cooking pavilion. “Can’t be wastin’ spoons neither.”

“Killjoy.” Glenn discretely flicked off Daryl. 

Daryl rushed Glenn, grabbing him around the neck and rubbing at his scalp with his knuckles. “What you call me, punk?”

Mitzi giggled and walked over to them. “A’ight. This isn’t likely to be the way a walker would grab you but it’s as good a place as any to start.” 

“Mitzi, make him let me go.” Glenn whined. The small group laughed. 

“Not yet, Glenn. We’re learning. Also, play shit games, win shit prizes.” She ruffled his hair, before turning back to the group. “How d’ya think you’d get out?”

Her students offered a couple solutions, like clawing at his arm or head-butting.

Mitzi nodded. “Good answers but wrong answers. Daryl has Glenn’s head down already so head-butting is not an option. Also, don’t go head-butting walkers, not advisable. Scratching or clawing takes too long to be effective. They can just knock you out.”

She moved to stand on Glenn's side. “Your best bet is to prevent the headlock in the first place. We'll talk about what t’do if you can’t next.”

She tapped Daryl’s arm and he let Glenn go. Turning to Glenn, she smiled. “Did you do any taekwondo as a kid?”

He nodded, watching her warily as Daryl moved back.

“Okay, try to get me in the same headlock.”

Glenn sucked in a deep breath and sunk into a fight stance that was solid but not practiced. He lurched forward and hooked his arm over Mitzi’s neck. 

Before he could hook his other hand around his wrist, she stepped into him, locking her hips and caging him in with her arms. She locked her hands around his free arm and pulled him back over the leg she had braced up against the back of his leg.

Glenn fell back with a soft oof, Mitzi keeping hold of his abdomen to prevent him from hitting the concrete. He got his legs back under him and moved away.

Mitzi patted him on the shoulder. “Our instinct in this situation is to move away, but our attacker is generally in a better position to take advantage of any space we make. Instead, move in, lock your hips and keep their other arm away, hook your hand around the back of their arm, push at their shoulder with your other hand, hell- just wrap your arms around their upper arms and hug ‘em hard. Anything you can do to keep your head up and their other arm outta the way, do it.

“Once you accomplish that, there’s a couple ways to throw them or knock them off balance so you can get away. We won’t practice those on concrete though.” She looked out over the field. “Probably do that another day over there by the farm. Gotta talk t’Rick ‘ bout that.”

She motioned Glenn forward. “Let’s try again.”

Glenn was faster this time but Mitzi snuck her hand under her chin and grabbed the inside of his wrist. She pushed his arm out and pulled her head from the loop of his arms. She set her free hand on his shoulder and pushed him away lightly.

“This time, I got my hand in there quick, preventing him from getting a tight lock on my neck. From there just push away and run. You’re behind them, so it should be easier to get away, if you think and act fast.”

Mitzi smiled and turned to Daryl. “Now, Glenn is technically taller than me.”

“Technically?” Glenn gasped comically. “I’m like half a foot taller than you!”

She laughed. “Glenn is taller than me and fast, but D is even taller and bigger.” She glanced at Glenn, who was indignant. “Objectively, that is true.”

Glenn shrugged dismissively.

“Daryl is taller and his arms are long. So while Glenn’s speed works in his favor, Daryl doesn’t need to be fast. He can get his hands or arms around me without me being able to reach him.” She turned to Daryl. “Baby?”

Daryl made a face, and rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “Ain’t sure ‘bout this.”

She smiled. “You don’t have to hurt me, D. Just put your hands on my shoulders.” 

Daryl sighed and set his hands on her shoulders. Mitzi held her arms up and her fingers just brushed against his chest. 

“See?” She flapped her hands ineffectually. “In this case, I need to be close.” She stepped in, Daryl adjusting to keep his hands on her shoulders. “If someone taller than you attempts a front chokehold, especially with the intent of choking you, they are gonna lock their elbows so they can press down.” 

She brought up her forearms in between his arms in an ‘x’ shape. “You wanna break that elbow lock. So, forearms up in an x and then.” She brought her forearms out more gently than she would in an actual fight. Daryl stepped back, soft smile on his face. “Out and down, to push his arms away.”

**

“Baby.” She smiled and crooked her finger at him. “You doin’ anythin’ right now?”

He sauntered closer to her, eyes trailing over the curves and swells she was displaying for him. “Like what?”

“Like anythin’ that would prevent me from pulling you in here and havin’ my way with you.” She set her hip against the door frame, holding the door open with her foot and watching him with heated eyes.

He smirked, almost instinctively pulling his shoulders back, letting her look her fill. “Don't know anythin’ that could prevent that.” He leaned over her, pulling the door closed behind him as he used his body to move her further back into the guard tower.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him into a kiss, hot and open-mouthed. Pulling away, she smiled against his mouth. “That’s a good answer.”

He hiked up her shirt enough to get his hands on the skin of her side, squeezing gently at the softness he found there. “S’the truth.”

She slipped her tongue into his mouth and pressed tight against him. “Y’look good today, baby.”

He chuckled into her mouth. “I look the same as I always do.”

“True.” She slipped one hand down into the open neck of his button-up. “You look good everyday.” The same hand dropped down and teased at his length through his jeans. She kissed him again, moaning into his mouth. “So good.”

He groaned into her mouth. “Want’ya naked by the time you’re up those stairs.”

“Uh-huh.” She lifted her hands to his face and took control of the kiss as one of his hands dropped to her ass. She pulled away and pressed him back towards the door. “I’m in charge here, bud. You followin’ my rules today.”

He scoffed, using his grip on her ass to pull her tight into his body. “You gonna hafta make me.”

“Oh, I think that can be arranged.” She started to unbutton his shirt, before latching on to his neck.

He groaned and cupped her breast with his free hand, his other still preoccupied with squeezing her ass. Almost bending her backward, he nibbled at her collarbone through her shirt collar.

“Pretty, little thing.”

She giggled. “Your pretty, little thing.”

He caught her eyes and grinned, all teeth. The hand on her tit dropped to her ass and he grunted as he lifted her and turned to press her against the door. Worrying his teeth over her jaw, he nodded. “That’s right.”

She moaned and arched into him. Humming, he leaned in to kiss her again. Feeling her smile against his mouth, he groaned when she pushed back against him and took control of the kiss.

She bit at his lips. “And you’re my pretty boy, yeah?”

His brain froze, a sudden hot pulse shooting up his spine. She grinned, nibbling at his chin, and held his eyes. His jaw dropped and he grunted, rutting his hips against hers. “Shit!”

He leaned in to kiss her and she tutted, pulling back ever so slightly. 

She bit his chin. “Are you?”

He found himself nodding before his brain could process the shift in mood. Pressing his dick up against her, he groaned loud and long.

She pulled back, head tilted cheekily. “So what I want is you naked by the time you reach the bed.”

He tongued at his lip, smirk still firm on his face. “Told ya, you’re gonna hafta make me.” 

Hands in his hair, she tilted his head back and ran her tongue over his Adam’s Apple. She moaned against him. “Dontcha wanna fuck me, baby?” She pouted down at him.

He nodded and she tilted his head to the side, biting into where his neck met his shoulder. He groaned. “Fuck, do I, woman.”

She grinned. “Then why don’t ya take your clothes off and get your ass upstairs?”

He leaned into her, pecking at her lips softly. “Why don’t you?”

She huffed, frustration building to match his. 

“No pouting.” He tugged at her lip with his thumb. “How ‘bout a compromise? Botha us.”

She nodded and he set her on her feet, pecking her nose. “Race ya.”

She won but only because he purposely let her in front of him, pinching at her ass and reaching around to knead at her breasts and rut against her ass as she tossed her t-shirt over the railing to the ground below. 

He pulled her into a kiss as they cleared the stairs into the guard shack proper. She turned him, pushing him toward the mattress Glenn had brought up here some months ago. He fell back onto the bed, grunting, and pulled her down into his lap.

She set her hands on his shoulders and pushed him gently. He didn’t budge, leaning in to suck her nipple into his mouth. She gasped, arching into him despite her best attempt to maintain control. “Fuck, D.”

He nipped at her nipple gently and pulled her tighter into him, grinding his crotch up against hers. She sucked in a breath as she carded her fingers through his hair, arching into him. He directed her hips to roll against him, moaning into her breast as she found the rhythm he liked. 

“Pretty baby.” He thrusted his hips against her roughly.

She threw her head back and sighed, hips rolling against hers as he moved to suck a hickey into the skin above her nipple.

“So little, so pretty sitting on m’cock like that.”

She set her jaw and forced herself to look down at him. He grinned, biting at the skin of her other breast.

She threaded her fingers through the hair at the back of his head and pulled his head back. Leaning over him, she pressed her forehead against his and stared into his eyes as she ground down on him.

As he groaned, she moved to lick his earlobe into her mouth, tugging gently. He hissed, meeting her grinding thrust for grinding thrust. 

She moaned, whispering hotly in his ear. “So handsome, baby. Take such good care of me.”

His hips jumped and he grunted loud in her ear. He crossed his arms over her back and grasped at her shoulders, using the leverage to pull her harder down onto him. 

“Put me in ya.”

She smirked against his jaw. “Maybe I ain’t ready yet.”

“Wetter than fuck, baby.” He grunted and moved a hand down to shove two fingers into her roughly. She moaned and he smiled through a tight jaw. “You ready.”

She nodded as if it was a question and he removed his fingers, lining the head of his cock with her core. He caught her eyes and held them as he entered her in a single rough thrust. 

Once seated deep in her, he tapped his fingertips against her bottom lip and she smiled, taking fingers still wet with her into her mouth. He grunted, eyes locked onto her mouth as he thrust up into her.

As he watched, distracted, she shoved his shoulders back gently. He fell back against the mattress, hands falling to maintain control of the movement of her hips. He pushed and pulled, guiding her in a rolling motion.

“C’mon, girl.” He smirked up at her. “You supposed t’be in charge and y’have me doin’ all the work.”

She took his hands from her hips and tangled her fingers with his. Moaning, she planted his elbows in the mattress and leveraged herself against him. 

After a moment, she leaned forward to pin his hands by his ears, changing the angle and rubbing her clit furtively against his pubic bone. 

Moaning, she shot him a lopsided smile and leaned forward to favor him with a wet kiss.

His hips jerked up against hers, hitting something in her that whited out her vision. She gasped. “Fuck, Fuck.”

He grinned cockily and pulled one of his hands free, digging his hand into her hair. “Yeah, baby? Already?”

He used the hand still tangled with hers to pull her forward against him. He secured her wrist in the small of her back and thrust up into her. 

He panted in her ear, massaging at the back of her head. “Fit me like a fuckin’ glove don’t’ya, Spitfire?” He pulled her tighter to him and he ground his hips up into her, putting exquisite pressure on her clit. “C’mon, baby.”

She gasped and felt her body pull in tight, cunt clenching hard around him as she all but screamed into his neck.

Grinning, he turned them, setting her calves up on his shoulder and nearly folding her in half so he could press his face to hers, forehead tight to her temple. He groaned as he pressed himself into her again.

“Fuck ya like you’re mine.” He hissed, his own high fast approaching. “Cause y’are, right? You’re mine.”

She nodded, one hand digging into the meat of his ass the other clawing at his back.

“Say it.”

She sucked in a breath and choked out: “Fuck yes! All yours.”

He made an unholy sound deep in his chest and leaned back, her thighs still tight to his chest, snapping his hips hard against her.

One hand keeping her legs balanced on his shoulder, he reached down and captured a heaving nipple between his thumb and pointer finger. Grinning down at her, he pinched lightly and tugged. 

“Gonna cum again, little girl?”

She hissed, head falling back and neck arching against another sudden wave of tightness and wetness. “Fuck, I might.”

He shook his head and switched one leg to his other shoulder. Sucking his thumb into his mouth, he thrummed at her clit with his thumb. “Nah, y’are.”

He leaned over her as she nodded, pressing her legs back against her chest. He kissed her open, gasping mouth. “Gimme another, pretty baby.”

She moaned, lifting her hands to his face to keep his mouth against hers. his free hand lifted to cup and squeeze at her breast. 

“Fuck, Daryl. Baby.” She clawed at his thigh and arched hard.

He nodded, sealing his mouth to hers. “Gimme it.” 

She seized up quick, mouth dropping open silently and core clenching at him hard enough to take him with her. He groaned her name, hips spluttering against hers.

He kept himself propped up on his hands and focused on breathing through the heat still in his veins.

Grunting quietly, he pulled out with a groan, kissing her calf before softly letting them fall to the bed. He leaned over to kiss her again, caging her between his biceps. 

He smiled softly at her as she hooked her hand around his bicep. He kissed her again. “Pretty baby.”

She smiled back. “Pretty boy.”

He rolled his eyes and laid his head against her chest. She pressed a kiss to his forehead, scratching lightly at his scalp.

There was a pounding at the trapdoor and they both jumped, Daryl pushing himself up and in front of her.

“Are you done?” Glenn’s voice was thick with irritation. 

The door lifted just the barest amount, Maggie pushing their abandoned clothes across the floor at them, her eyes considerably more amused than her husband’s.

Daryl sighed, relaxing almost immediately. He kicked at the door. “We ain’t.”

The door fell shut and Mitzi started laughing, head thrown back against the mattress. Through the open windows, they heard the door to the tower open and close. 

**

Mitzi smiled and leaned over the grill, chatting with Carol as she picked at a piece of fruit. 

“You can always come and help me?” Carol smiled with an edge of gentle teasing. “Learn how to cook.”

Mitzi shivered for dramatic effect. “Tried once. Gave myself food poisoning.”

Carol giggled, smiling at Daryl as he came up behind Mitzi and pressed a kiss to her hair. “Hey, Daryl.” She turned back to Mitzi. “What were you cooking?”

“Grilled cheese.”

Carol laughed outright and Mitzi’s smile brightened. “You gave yourself food poisoning with grilled cheese?”

She looked over and snickered when Daryl started chuckling. “Didn’t store any of it right according to the doctor.” She shrugged. “Even after my aunt took me in, I was never home to be taught any of this stuff. Either off doing shit I shouldn’t or practicing, competing when she got me into shooting.”

Carol nodded, eyes soft on her. Daryl leaned into her and Mitzi waved them off. “It’s good. I ain’t worried about it.”

“Mrs. Dixon?”

She jumped, turning over her shoulder and catching Daryl’s eyes.

He shrugged. “Ain’t talking to me.”

She blinked before turning to the man. “Excuse me?”

The man, a Woodbury resident named Alex, looked nervous, glancing at Daryl. “I’m sorry… I thought you were married…?”

She glanced at Daryl, who was watching her with a small smug smile. He arched an eyebrow, almost challenging her. 

She grinned. “We are.” 

A hush fell over the eating pavilion.

“O-okay…”

“But if you’re gonna be formal, I insist on using my rank as well. That’s Captain Dixon to you.” She shot Daryl a shit-eating grin. “Just if we’re bein’ formal.”

Carol, who had until that moment been hiding a smile behind her hand, outright guffawed.

“Now what was the question?”

Alex looked panicked. “What? O-oh… uh. You mentioned taking people out to learn to shoot? I wanted to sign up.”

“Consider yourself on the list. I’m sorry, remind me of your name?”

“Alex.” He smiled brightly. “When’s the next lesson?”

“Alex.” She parroted back. “It’s tomorrow.”

“Thank you. ma’am.” He stuck his hand out and almost gleefully, she shook it.

“Welcome.”

He nodded, smiled and scurried off as she chuckled, watching him leave. “So fuckin’ proper. You think he knows he just officiated our wedding?”

Carol snorted.

Daryl bit at his lip, watching her with no small amount of pride and fondness. “You m’pretty, little wife now?”

She sidled up to him, standing nose-to-nose or as close as she could get with the height difference. “Yeah, that’s right.”

“Prolly shoulda gone on our honeymoon, with as long as we been married.”

“Damn, you’re right. I should’ve booked those flights to Fiji.” 

His shoulder shook with his laughter. “Prolly oughta learn to cook.”

“We both know you’re better at that. Besides, I do the laundry.” She pressed a quick kiss to his mouth. 

“Guess that’s fair.” He leaned in for a deeper kiss.

Carol clapped. “I now pronounce you husband and wife.”

Mitzi grinned and pressed her face into his chest. “Wish we had cake. That’s the only part of weddings that’s any good.”

Daryl chuckled and Carol shook her head, adding, “that is the most Mitzi statement I have ever heard.” 

She shrugged. “Anyways, gotta go help clear that fence.”

“A’ight.” He patted her ass and nabbed the rest of the fruit she had been holding onto absently. “Be safe.”

She stepped back with a brilliant smile. “I married a fruit thief. That’s disappointing.”

“What’s yours is mine, wife.”

“Fair.” She grinned and waved over her shoulder as she made for the fence. “Love ya!”

Daryl grunted. “Say it to m’fuckin’ face.” He smiled and watched, biting into her Apple quietly, as she stopped short and turned on her heel.

She stepped even closer this time. Daryl straightened to his full height with a cocky smile. She pressed against him, rising up on her toes.

“Love you.”

He nodded and knocked her forehead with his. “Love ya.” He gestured towards the fence with his head. “Best go. ‘Fore Maggie comes lookin’ for ya.” 

“I ain’t afraid of her.”

“Yeah, ya are. Now git.” 

She turned and he slapped her ass, causing her to laugh and jump forward a step. 

“I would like to remind you that there are children present.”

Daryl shrugged. “They’ll be alright.”

**

She folded a couple of the cleaner cots up and put them by the humvee closest to the grocery store door. Sasha placed some of the meager supplies, mostly basic first aid supplies or some trampled and flattened MREs, Tyreese following behind, holding his own handful of finds.

Mitzi nodded at Daryl, tapping soundlessly at the humvee. “Next time we’re here, I’ll bring some tools and maybe we can harvest some parts for the bus.”

“Not a lot leftover.” Daryl observed. “Musta been picked through.”

She set her hands on her hips and shook her head. “Remember when I said that the army wouldn’t take in civilians, just set ‘em up with the bare minimum?” She grinned at him and gestured grandly at the haul, meager though it was. “I told you so.”

“Y’always tell me so.” He leaned backwards to rap on the big plate glass window at the front of the store with his elbow. He glanced at Zach and Michonne. “Just give it a second.”

She grinned and sauntered over to him. “It’s my wife rights. I’m always right.”

He snorted, rolling his eyes.

Mitzi brushed her fingers over his thigh. “Gotta cut your hair when I get a chance. At least, the front. You’re not gonna be able to see here pretty soon.”

He nodded, ghosting his fingers over the back of her knee absently, eyes watching the hole in the chainlink.

“Okay, I think I got it.” Zach moved to sit on the ledge next to Daryl. 

Michonne wandered closer. “Got what?”

Zach turned to her with a smile. “I’ve been trying to guess what Daryl did before the turn.”

“He’s been tryin’ to guess for like six weeks.” Daryl groused.

“Yeah, I’m pacing myself. One shot a day.” He pointed at Mitzi. “I’m getting close to figuring her out too.”

“You don’t have to figure her out.” Michonne made a face. “Everyone knows what Mitzi did.”

Zach huffed. “I wanna figure it out though.”

Mitzi shrugged when Michonne looked at her, leaning up against Daryl’s side. “I told him the same thing, ‘Chonne.”

Daryl huffed lightly, before gesturing to Zach. “Alright, shoot.”

“Well, the way you are at the prison…you being on the council, you’re able to track, you’re helping people.” Zach smiled, seeming to hesitate. “But you’re still being… kind of surly.”

Daryl scoffed and glanced up at Mitzi, who was biting back a smile. “Don’t you start.”

Mitzi shook her head, holding her hands up. Daryl turned back to Zach.

“Big swing here, homicide cop.”

Michonne started laughing and Mitzi bit at her lip. 

Daryl, unable to keep the small smile from his face, turned to Michonne. “What’s so funny?”

Michonne shook her head. “Nothing. It makes perfect sense.”

“Actually,” Daryl glanced up at Mitzi. “The man’s right. Undercover.”

Zach brightened, excited. “Come on. Really?”

Daryl nodded. “Yep. I mean I don't really like to talk about it ‘cause it was a lot of heavy shit, you know?”

“Dude, come on, really?”

Daryl shot him a look, clearing his throat, and Zach deflated. 

“Okay, I’ll keep guessing, I guess.”

“Yeah, you keep doin’ that .”

A bare second later, a walker slammed his hands on the glass and Daryl stood, reaching for the bolt-cutters from Tyreese. 

Michonne smiled at Mitzi as she followed Daryl and Zach to the door. “We’re gonna do this, detective?”

Daryl nodded. “Let’s do it.”

Mitzi shouldered her rifle, moving around Daryl to cover the door as they opened it. “Ooh… arrest me, Detective Dixon.”

He turned toward before cutting the chain, blushing. “Stop.”

Mitzi winked at him. “I have been known to say ‘fuck the police’ but I think I would’ve meant it different with you, D.”

He shook his head with a small smile. “Tighten up. Let’s go to work.”

**

“Hey, Mr. G.” Mitzi rapped on the wall before parting the curtain. “I’m doin’ a bullet count.” She stuck her head in and cussed. 

The walker in the cell stood and lunged at her. She stepped back and pulled her knife. The walker advanced and she felt the railing behind her. 

Shoving the body of Mr. Gordon, an elderly, former resident of Woodbury, she stabbed him in the temple as the walker lunged forward again. 

The body slumped against her and she sighed, pushing him off of her. “Fuck, man.” She turned him over as respectfully as she could, inspecting the body. 

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw someone approach her. “Guess he died in his sleep. Maybe slipped. His face is all bloody.”

There was a snarl and she looked up in time to crab-walk out of the walker’s reach. She stood, pulling the little snub-nose she had taken to carrying in the prison. She fired once and breathed deep when the second walker’s body fell.

“Everyone needs to wake up now!” She hollered, rapping her gun against the railing to wake up the residents of the block. “Wake up and get your doors closed! If you’re already up, get back in your cells! Close the doors!” She looked down over the railing and fired at another resident of the cell block when he looked up at her, eyes clouded over and dead. “Everyone up now!”

A walker wandered out of a cell two down from her. She fired. The walker fell.

Two shots fired off to her left and she ducked instinctively. Looking over she saw Alex firing wildly at a walker. “C’mon, Alex. Take a deep breath and aim.” 

Alex nodded, eyes still on the approaching walker, and aimed. The walker slumped. Alex looked up at her.

“Good. Be careful, the others are going to be coming in here soon and hot. Start trying to clear down there.”

True to prediction, Daryl, followed by Rick, Glenn and Sasha, rushed in. 

She heard Daryl’s bow. “Mitzi!”

“I’m up here. I’m okay!” She moved to the far end of the block, toeing the cell doors closed as she went. “Help Alex.”

When she got to the last cell, she held up her pistol and used her hunting knife in her left hand to part the curtains. She sighed deep and fired.

**

“They wanted to go out together, same as they lived. That make them douchebags?”

Daryl’s eyes skipped down to her where she was stockpiling tools. “It does if they coulda gotten out.”

She smiled at Bob and reached out to squeeze his shoulder. “Daryl doesn’t consider suicide to be an option.”

“Nope.” Daryl shook his head, still inspecting the area around them with a flashlight. 

Bob nodded his head. “But you do?”

“Not anymore…” Mitzi shrugged. “I have in the past.”

“You don’t gotta talk ‘bout it.” Daryl walked behind her, pressing a quick kiss to her head and grabbed a bottle of distilled water, glaring over at Bob.

“Why-” Bob cleared his throat, shying away from Daryl’s very direct stare. “Why was it an option?”

“It’s alright, D.” She smiled at Daryl before turning to consider Bob. “It wasn’t an option, not really, but I was hurting and couldn’t see past that pain.” 

“If you don’t mind me asking, what was that pain?”

“Why you askin’?” Daryl sucked his tongue. “Her pain don’t make your point any more right.”

She stepped to his side and dropped a kiss to his shoulder. “I’m okay, baby.”

He grunted, rifling through a display to her other side. “Shouldn’t be drummin’ up your pain. It ain’t entertainment.”.

“I’m sorry… maybe I shouldn’t ask.”

She shrugged against Daryl’s side. “It’s good… I’m not ashamed of it anymore. I was nearing 400 kills. People treated it like an accomplishment.”

“Kills?” Bob frowned. “The way you hold your gun, I always assumed you were military.”

She caught sight of something on a nearby shelf and leaned down to nab a ratchet set from a shelf. “Yeah, I was a Ranger. A sniper.” She showed it triumphantly to Daryl and set it next to her small cache of tools. 

“It makes sense why I had the strangest sense of deja vu when I met you.” Bob smiled. “I remember reading an article about you. Captain Mildred E. Donovan. You’re famous, the first female spec ops soldier in the US military.”

She winced. “Yeah, that’s me.”

His eyes softened. “So people treated you like a celebrity-“

“When I felt like a criminal.” She bobbed her head. “378 kills was the official number but that didn’t count people who had died as a direct result of my military service.” She shrugged. “So I tried to eat my gun… kill number 379.”

Bob nodded, eyes on Daryl who kept shooting him dirty looks. “What stopped you?”

She smiled softly. “My little brother. He asked his first girlfriend to a dance at school, wanted to tell me all about it. He had good timing.”

Bob patted her shoulder. “Glad you’re still here.”

She chuckled. “Me too.”

“C’mon.” Daryl rounded a corner and flashlight on a walker trapped under ceiling debris. 

Mitzi shot Bob a wry smile and followed after Daryl with her collection. 

Stopping to consider the walker and the photos of the family pins to a cork board on the wall, Bob sighed. He knelt to deal with the walker and looked up in time to watch Daryl and Mitzi. 

Daryl had paused in the doorway in front of Mitzi, causing her to stop to avoid running into his back. He turned head-butted her gently, knocking his forehead against hers, eyes locked on hers. She smiled up at Daryl, nodding, and Bob felt a sudden ache in his chest.

**

She came to with a gasp that filled her mouth with dust. Lurching forward, she coughed and retched, clearing her throat of what felt like sandpaper with giant heaving coughs that felt like she was getting kicked in the side. “Fuck.”

She shuffled out from under the guard tower stairs and looked up, seeing smoldering metal and sky. She saw her rifle off to the side and reached for it. 

“Fuckin’ shit!” She grabbed at her right shoulder with her left hand, noticing the odd angle the joint sat at. 

Sighing, she leaned back and forced her shoulder to rotate back into the joint. It popped audibly and she groaned. 

She grabbed her rifle with her left hand, holding the barrel between her knees to check the chamber. Finding a singular round, she moved to the makeshift armory she maintained in the guard tower. 

She grunted, kicking debris out from in front of the cabinet. Opening it, she pulled out a gun bag and loaded it one handed. She stuffed a magazine of .50 caliber bullets into the back pocket of her jeans and inserted another magazine into her rifle, flicking the switch to turn the rifle over to automatic. 

Shouldering the bag, she took a deep breath and lifted her rifle with her gun arm. She groaned past the pain, anchored the rifle against her shoulder and moved to the door, listening through the metal. Judging by the groaning on the other side, there were likely more than a few walkers outside the door.

Mind racing, she set her back against the door. She looked up the stairs and huffed, shrugging. 

“Might as well.”

She climbed the stairs, stepping around twisted metal and concrete. When she reached the top, she pushed what remained of the trap door and boosted herself up onto the platform. 

She looked around, surveying the destruction, the tank up in the main courtyard, the assembled dead, and tried to find a way down from the platform. She was calculating a jump from the platform to a more clear patch of lawn when she saw Daryl’s bike in its usual spot. 

She froze, grief and shock suddenly catching up to her. 

She looked down at the walkers collected around the tower. One seemed to catch her eyes and snarled up at her, raising hands caked in blood and mud.

What little fight had been keeping her upright seeped right out her feet. She was acutely aware of the pain in her side, her head, her shoulder, aware of how heavy and sluggish her body felt. 

There was a strong likelihood that she wouldn’t survive this jump, anyways. Would it be so bad to just end it here? 

She moved to set down her rifle when Daryl’s voice came to her unbidden, ringing in her head. 

It ain’t an option.

She sucked in a deep breath, stepped back as far as she could and jumped.

**

“Why’d ya do that? I was havin’ fun.”

“No, you were being a jackass.” Beth pressed into his space. “If anyone found my dad or,” she paused, looking at him, “or Mitzi-”

“Don’t.” Daryl shook his head. “That ain’t remotely the same.”

“Killing them isn’t supposed to be fun.”

“What d’ya want from me, girl, huh?” Daryl snarled.

She didn’t back down, words still slurred but becoming clearer. “I want you to stop acting like you don’t give a crap about anything. Like nothing we went through matters. Like none of the people we lost meant anything to you.” Her body threw her forward like she was vomiting the words. “It’s bullshit!”

Daryl gaped at her, chest hard and tight and made more so by her words. “That what you think?”

“That’s what I know. You haven’t said a single one of their names since we got out.” Beth wiped at her face. 

Daryl pressed forward, growling through the tightness in his chest. “You don’t know nuthin’.”

“I know you look at me and you just see another dead girl. I’m not Michonne, I’m not Carol, I’m not Maggie.” She sucked in a breath. “I’m not Mitzi.”

“Don’t.” He shook his head, feeling tears prick at his eyes. “Don’t say her name again.”

“Mitzi. Mitzi Dixon.” Beth set her jaw. “I know it hurts, Daryl. I’ve survived, and she didn’t, and you don’t get it ‘cause I’m not like you or them. But I made it and you don’t get to treat me like crap just because you’re afraid.”

“I ain’t afraid of nuthin’.” He rasped.

Beth drew back, tears welling in her eyes. “I remember, when that little girl came out of the barn, after my mom. You coulda been like me. But you had Mitzi, then.” She gasped. “And now, God forbid you ever let anyone get too close.”

“Too close, huh? You know all about that. Lost two boyfriends and you can’t even shed a tear. Your whole family’s gone, all you can do is just go out lookin’ for hooch like some dumb college bitch.” He gestured vaguely at her, throwing his free hand in the air.

“Screw you. You may not be looking for a drink, but you’re avoiding Mitzi all the same.”

He let out a noise full of pain and anger. “Don’t say her name again. You don’t get it. Everyone we know is dead.”

“You don’t know that!”

“Might as well be, ‘cause you ain’t never gonna see ‘em again.” He sucked in a shaky breath. “Rick. You ain't never gonna see Maggie again.”

She shoved at his hand. “Daryl, stop!”

“No!” He turned away, feeling the bluster that had kept him going drain from him. “Governor rolled right up to our gates. Fuckin’ blew-” He sucked in a breath. “Fuckin’ blew my w-wife to pieces.” He swallowed past the sob building in his chest. “Maybe if I wouldn’t ‘ve stopped lookin’...” His voice cracked and he trailed off. “Maybe ‘cause I gave up. That’s on me.”

Beth stepped closer to him, grabbed at his arm. “Daryl.”

“No.” He shook her off. “And your dad… Maybe I coulda done somethin’.”

Beth near tackled him in a hug, squeezing him tight as he almost bent in half under the weight of his grief.

**

Mitzi had just raised her rifle when Daryl approached the group holding Rick and Michonne at gunpoint. She fought against the relief that was trying to convince her body to relax, keeping her eye trained down the scope.

“The thing about nowadays is we got nothing but time. Say your piece, Daryl.”

Daryl nodded, speaking directly to the leader. “These people, you’re gonna let ‘em go. They’re good people.”

The Steven Tyler wannabe looked shocked. “Now, I think Lou would disagree with you on that. I’ll, of course, have to speak for him and all because your friend here strangled him in a bathroom.”

Daryl nodded, voice still low and conciliatory. “You want blood, I get it.” He set down his weapons. “Take it from me, man. C’mon.”

“This man killed our friend. You say he’s good people. Now that right there is a lie.”

Daryl deflated as two of the gray haired man’s goons advanced on him. “It’s a lie!”

One man punched Daryl in the gut with the butt of his rifle. 

Mitzi lifted her rifle and fired. One of the two going after Daryl dropped. The others froze, clearly trying to place the direction of the suppressed shot. She cleared the treeline in the crouched walk the Army trained her in, her fucked-up knee protesting.

The leader seemed confused. He grinned, a chill chasing her spine. “That’s a mighty big weapon for such a small lady.”

She ignored him, catching Rick’s eyes and keeping her rifle trained on the one aiming at Michonne.

The man grinned. “Claimed.”

“The bitch or the gun?” 

“Both.”

She shot him, Rick lunging at the leader, and turned toward the man still standing over Daryl. “You have two seconds to back the fuck off my husband before I get irate.”

The man’s knees gave out and he crab-walked back, begging and stuttering. “Please… I’m sorry, I was just doin’ what I was told. Please, don-“

“Shut up.” The man’s body slumped heavily.

Looking up, she caught sight of a man, still almost absently holding on to Carl. She raised her gun and watched Michonne level her sword.

Michonne clenched her jaw. “Let him go now.”

“He’s mine.” Rick brushed past her and Mitzi dropped her rifle.

Daryl almost tackled her, wrapping her up in a crushing hug. Wincing, she turned with a bright smile on her face, setting her rifle on the hood of the car. She blinked, maybe a bit too rapidly, and framed his face in her hands “Hey, baby.”

Daryl squeezed his eyes shut and then opened them, running a gentle thumb over her bruised jaw. “‘Hey, baby?’” He mimicked her, forcing a chuckle out of a tight throat. “Like y’weren’t just dead.”

“Not dead.” She pressed a kiss to his mouth. “Just briefly missing.”

He pressed a hard kiss to her forehead. “How? I saw the guard tower. It was fuckin’ blown to pieces.”

She nodded, pushing his hair back and smoothing her thumb over his split lip. “When I saw the tank, I dove for the stairs. But the explosion knocked my feet out from under me and I just tumbled down the stairs. I’m probably only alive because it got me to the bottom of the stairs so quickly that I was able to shimmy under the stairs before the debris and ash started falling.” She kissed him gently. “I musta passed out and when I came to, the prison was overrun.”

He kissed her hard, one hand coming up to cup the back of her head. “You’re fuckin’ black n’blue.”

“I’m alright, though.” She winced, pulling away slightly. “I have a helluva goose egg, I fucked up my knee and I’m pretty sure I have a couple of broken ribs, but all in all, I’m good.”

He frowned, tilting her head down slightly to palpitate at the back of her head. “Y’have a coupla goose eggs.”

She laughed. “One for each flight of stairs.”

He grunted, obviously not amused. He lifted her shirt and winced at the dark bruise he found. As gently as he could, he pressed at some of the darker areas of the bruise. “Yeah…” he tsked. “‘Least two’a these are broken. Hafta find something to wrap them.”

She nodded, smiling fondly down at him. “I also dislocated my shoulder… fixed that already though.”

He snorted and pulled at the neck of her Pantera shirt. He shook his head, seeing the dark bruising on her gun shoulder. “Jesus, Spitfire. You shouldn’t a’shot your rifle.”

She scoffed. “I’ll take that under advisement for next time someone’s beating up on my family.”

He grunted, pressing his mouth to her temple and gently wrapping her in a hug. “There betta not be a ‘next time’.”

She felt arms around her and smiled back at Carl. He pushed his face into her neck, clutching at Daryl’s shirt around her. 

Daryl tutted and tried to loosen Carl’s grip on her injured side. “She’s all banged up, kid. Gotta loosen up.”

He did but kept his face in her shoulder much to Daryl’s consternation.

She turned, smiling at Daryl when he grumbled, and pulled the boy into as gentle a hug as she could manage. 

His breath stuttered, clearly still shaken from his encounter with the Claimer. 

“Y’okay, hun.” She rubbed her hand over his head. “You grow like a weed, dude. I swear you’re taller than when I saw you last. You may be taller than me now.”

Carl chuckled wetly. “I’ve been taller than you for a while, Mitz.”

“Lies.”

Daryl stepped into her and pressed his face into her neck from behind. “‘Least a coupla months, baby.”

Michonne came over and gently added herself to the hug. She smiled softly. “You have good timing.”

Mitzi nodded. “And you leave a trail that is shockingly easy to follow.”

Rick staggered over to them, face red with blood  and leaned heavily against Daryl.

“I do not leave an obvious trail.”

Mitzi snorted. “You do. Not many people runnin’ ‘round Georgia with a fuckin’ katana, ‘Chonne.”

**

The place immediately unsettled her and she could tell by the tension in everyone, even Carl, that they all felt it too. Rick shifted next to her and she tried to quietly, covertly lay her finger over the trigger guard of her rifle. 

The man kept talking, reaching out to Michonne with a plate of food. Mitzi stepped closer to Daryl’s side, who caught her eye and nodded. 

At that moment, Rick slapped the plate out of the man’s hand and pulled a gun. 

Mitzi lifted her rifle and trained it on the man. There was a shadow on the ground so she turned, aiming up at a sniper kneeling in the corner of the roof opposite them. She saw Daryl and Carl raise and aim their guns as Michonne stepped back into stance. 

“Where the hell did you get this watch?”

Mitzi used her free hand to pull Carl behind her by his shirt as he came up even to her. Carl kept his pistol up over her shoulder. He opened her mouth to speak and Mitzi shook her head, eye on the sniper through the scope.

The man held his hands up. “You want answers? You want anything else? You get it when you put down the gun.”

“I see your man on the roof with a sniper rifle. How good’s his aim?” Rick scoffed. “You see the redhead right there? She’s the best shot I’ve ever seen. She could probably take you all out without much help from us. I’m gonna ask you again. Where’d you get the watch?” There was tense silence and Rick repeated himself louder. “Where’d you get the watch?”

The man Rick had hollered at his compatriots, a tad more panicked than he probably intended. “Don’t do anything! I have this! You just put it down. You put it down!” He quieted, speaking only to Rick. “You want to listen to me. There’s a lot of us.”

The sniper lowered his weapon and Mitzi shifted to watch the other rooftops.

Rick rasped. “Where did you get the watch?”

“I got it off of a dead one. I didn’t think he’d need it.”

“What about the riot gear, the poncho?”

“Got the riot gear off a dead cop.” Another man, the man who had patted them down earlier, approached. Mitzi saw Michonne turn towards him out of the corner of her eye. “Found the poncho on a clothesline.”

“Gareth, we can wait.”

“Shut up, Alex.”

Rick’s voice was gruff and intense. “You talk to me.”

The man’s voice was smug. “What’s there to say? You don’t trust us anymore.”

“Gareth.”

“Shut. Up. Rick, what do you want?”

Rick grunted. “Where are our people?”

“You didn’t answer the question.” 

Gunfire broke out and a sniper poked his head out on another roof. She shot him down before she felt Daryl push her after Rick. They made to run back the way they came but another sniper shot at the concrete in front of them. Before she could aim up and take him out, Rick started pushing her back the other way, following Daryl across the courtyard. 

She turned, bullets firing into the ground at her feet and took out two more snipers with two quick shots.

Rick's hand fell on her shoulders and they made to run through a garage, people closing off the sliding metal door in front of them. Daryl pushed her through a door labeled ‘A’ after Carl. Finding themselves in another courtyard space, they sprinted across open ground, more gunshots ricocheting off the ground around them.

“Get them off B” someone shouted from a roof and Rick stopped to return fire.

As they rounded the corner, the smell of rot hit her in the face. To their side, was a large fenced area with obviously human bones spread out on a blue tarp. Carl turned to look and Mitzi reached forward to push him in front of her. Daryl slowed his stride as the sound of people pounding on metal and screaming for help became clear.

Rick pushed him forward and they exploded into a room that spat of cult, with lit candles and painted designs on the floor.

“What the hell is this place?” Daryl reached out to Mitzi, who caught his hand and squeezed.

“These people,” Michonne fought to catch her breath. “I don’t think they’re trying to kill us.”

“No.” Rick concurred. “They were aiming at our feet.”

He led them out the only available door, only to encounter more gunfire and a fence lined with people with rifles. Daryl, in front of her, pulled up short, caging her behind him. 

“Drop your weapons now!” 

They all looked to Rick, whose eyes were trained on the rooftop where Gareth’s voice had come from. 

“Now!”

Mitzi sucked on her tongue, bending at the waist to lay her rifle out. She pulled her pistol and knife from their holsters and passed them to Daryl, who added them to his pile of arms. 

“Ringleader. Go to your left. Train car, go.”

Rick hesitated, looking back at Carl. “You do what we say, the boy goes with you. Anything else, he dies and you end up in there anyway.

Rick nodded and strode toward the train car.

“Now the archer.”

Daryl caught her eyes and Mitzi nodded, Daryl following after Rick. 

“Now the samurai.” 

Michonne visually checked with Carl as she passed him.

When Michonne stood behind Daryl, Gareth spoke again. “Now the sniper.”

Mitzi scoffed, but began moving after Michonne. “You might wanna check your boys. I didn’t hit any of those assholes with a headshot.” She turned and caught his eye, smiling. “On purpose.”

Gareth clenched his jaw and ignored her. “Stand at the door: ringleader, archer, samurai, sniper. In that order.”

There was a long pause.

“My son.” Rick shouted from the train car.

“Go, kid.” Carl made his way towards them and Gareth shouted another order. “Ringleader, open the door and go in.”

“I’ll go in with him.”

Gareth sounded frustrated. “Don’t make us kill him now.”

Rick climbed the stairs and opened the door with a heavy clank. One by one they filed in. Rick pulled Carl in and checked on him as the door slid shut behind him. 

**

“What do you think, Mitzi?”

She squatted in front of the doors and sighed. “They’ll use flashbangs or smoke bombs, riot suppression shit-”

“If they have them.” Daryl inspected the hinges.

She nodded. “If they have them. Try to overwhelm us, get us to give in without a fight.”

“What can we do?” Glenn had his arms crossed over his chest and she smiled up at him. 

“Who do you take me for, little brother?” She reached over and squeezed his side. “I’ll be damned if I go down without a fight.”

“Did you say your name was Mitzi?” The big ginger strode towards her. “Mitzi Donovan?”

She nodded, standing. “Yeah, that’s right?”

Everyone seemed transfixed by the spectacle. Daryl reached forward to grip her hip.

“Captain Mildred E. Donovan?”

She frowned, almost correcting the use of her government name out of habit.

“Her last name’s Dixon.” Daryl’s voice rumbled out from his chest, vibrating over her scalp from where her head was pressed to his chest.

The man had a slightly disconcerting grin on his face. 

She straightened her stance, broadening to take this asshole down if he had lost his mind. “My maiden name was Donovan. Why? Who the fuck are you?”

“You’re a fucking legend.” The man looked almost gleeful and she stepped back instinctively into Daryl. “300+ confirmed kills. US Army kill shot record holder. Fuck, but it is a pleasure to meet you.”

He stuck his hand out and she stared back. “What?”

“You’re Captain Mildred E. Donovan - Dixon, sorry. You’re an Army Ranger, right? One of the most deadly Army snipers in history.”

Bob shook his head. “Not the time, Abe.”

“Yeah. Nice to meet you?” She grasped his hand. When that seemed to placate him, she turned and nodded to Rick. “We need weapons.”

“I can assist with the procurement of hand fashioned weapons.” The big dark-haired man in the back nodded. “Everyone still has their belts?”

Part 6

[cuttergauthier]

New Jersey Three

Jack Hughes x Female Reader

This is chapter Three of Four

Can read chapter 1 | 2 here

Warning: Ex, fluff, cursing, Non supportive parents? Let me know if i missed any.

This has been in my draft for a while, I finally finished it.

word count: 1.7k

let me know what you guys think🤍

Today was New Year’s Eve, it’s always been a big celebration in Time Square except I didn’t want to go alone. This will be my first New Year’s Eve I’ve spent alone, ever since I was a kid, I was either with my parents and brother celebrating or in my teenage years I was partying with my friends.

This year was going to be different I just didn’t know exactly how. I talked to Luke earlier this morning and I had told him that I saw Jack yesterday, he was happy that we talk, he started jumping up and down which made me laugh, he even ran to tell his parents. I was happy that we finally talked again, I never should have waited a year to talk to him, but I guess running into him yesterday was meant to be.

I got ready for the day and decided to hang out on my couch and watch some movies. It was around 12 p.m. when I got a text from Jack asking if he could come over, I gave him my addressed and he said he would be right over.

I’m guessing he might want to talk more, we didn’t have a lot of time catching up yesterday, I just thought since it was New Year’s Eve he would have plans but I guess not.

About an hour later there was a knock on the door, it was Jack standing there smiling with two coffees.

“I brought you a coffee, do you still like cold brews?” he asked as he handed me the coffee

“I do, thank you” I replied smiling

We made our way to my living room and sat down on the couch.

“What brings you here? It’s New Year’s Eve I would have thought you’d have plans” I asked curiously

“I only have a team party tonight, I had time, thought I’d come over and we could catch up some more.” He said smiling

I’ve missed seeing that big smile of his.

“I’m okay with that”

“Did you still like going to Michigan? or did it make you want to leave even more?

“It wasn’t bad… but I was miserable, my friends were there but I still was following my dreams”

He nodded smiling

“well I am happy you’re in New York now”

“same here, how’s life been for you since you’ve been in Jersey?”

“pretty great, the team hasn’t been doing well but we’ve got some pretty great guys on the team”

“as long as you guys have a good group, I’m sure you could turn the season around”

“true, I still don’t think we’ll make the playoff’s this year though”

“There’s always next year Jack” I reassured him which made him smile.

“Do you have any plans for tonight?”

“Does drinking wine and watching movies count?” I ask making him laugh

“I guess it does but I was wondering if you wanted to come with me to the teams New Year’s Eve party”

I was surprise, this is only the second time seeing him in over a year, I didn’t expect him to invite me to meet his team already.

“are you serious?”

“Yeah why not, I’d love to have you there plus the guys that saw you yesterday… well more like PK wanted me to invite you”

“well we haven’t really been close in over a year and I don’t want to impose”

“trust me y/n you wouldn’t be imposing, plus everyone will love you, you’ve always been a social butterfly” he said making me chuckle

“Okay then… I’m in” I agreed smiling

“good, I can pick you up before, or you can bring your stuff to my apartment and get ready there if you want? It’s only going be Ty and I. we also have a guest bedroom if you want to spend the night.”

“if you and Ty really don’t mind me getting ready and staying the night it would be great actually, I’m guessing it’ll be hell trying to get an uber on New Year’s Eve” I said laughing

“probably” he chuckled

We spend the next 2 hours talking about our lives, what we’ve been up to since the last time we had seen each other, at around 5 p.m. I grabbed some my clothes for the party and to sleep in along with my makeup stuff, I put everything in a bag and grabbed my keys. Jack droves us his and Ty’s apartment after he picked us up some food.

Once we got there, he let himself in, you could tell this apartment building was new it looked modern. once we got in his apartment it was big, I was not surprise I mean two hockey players live here, there was no way I could ever afford a place like this.

“Y/n this is Ty, Ty this is Y/n” Jack introduced me to Ty

“Hey, it’s nice to meet you” I greeted Ty

“Hey, it’s nice to meet you too, I’ve heard a lot about you” Ty said smiling

I talked with both of them as we ate our food, once I was done Jack showed me where the bathroom was so I could start getting ready.

I did my makeup natural I didn’t want to go all out, since I was going to be meeting Jack’s team along with their families. I also decided to wear Black leather pants with a sparkly silver thank top that I would pair with some black boots along with a black crop blazer. It took me about an hour and a half before I was ready.

I made my way back to the living room with Jack and Ty, I saw Jack staring at me.

“what?” I asked chuckling

“Nothing, you look beautiful” he said making me blush

“Thank you” I smiled

“I ordered an Uber it should be here in 10 minutes” Ty told us

Jack and I both nodded as I joined them sitting on the couch.

Once the uber got here we made our way to the party.

I was still nervous to meeting everyone, but I knew Jack would have my back. Even after all these years I knew he’d always have my back no matter what.

Once we got there PK saw us and came over.

“Glad you guys could make it. You must be Y/n I’ve heard a lot about you” PK said

“It’s nice to meet you too” I said smiling.

“Make yourselves at home, drinks are in the kitchen” he said before leaving us there.

Jack introduced me to his teammates and their other half’s everyone was so sweet. Nico’s girlfriend Jenna (made up name) dragged me with her and the other girls.

“How long have you and Jack been dating?” Clare, Ryan graves girlfriend asked.

“Oh were not dating… I mean we used to when we were teenagers, but we broke up when he moved to Jersey” I said

“Oh sorry, it’s just Jack never brings any so we just thought maybe you were dating” she said embaressed.

“It’s fine don’t worry, were just friends” I said smiling. The girls nodded.

“Well from the way he looked at you, I can tell he really cares about you” Jenna said smiling.

I continued talking with the girl before they all went to find their better half’s since it was a few minutes before midnight.

“Hey” Jack said smiling when I made my way to him.

“Hey”

“You having fun?” he asked

“I really am, thanks for inviting me” I said smiling.

“I’m glad you said yes”

The countdown started

10…

9…

8…

7…

6…

5…

“Can I kiss you?” Jack asked I looked at him

4…

3…

2…

“yes” I said smiling

1…

Jack leaned in a kissed me. Our lips moved in sync. Everyone was cheering

“Happy new years y/n” Jack said smiling when we pulled away.

“Happy new years Jack”

We ended up making our way back to Jack’s apartment

We were just cuddling in his bed, both of us were smiling.

“This is a big city and we still happen to find each other again” I said smiling

“Maybe it was meant to be?” he said smiling before kissing me again.

“Maybe it was” I said smiling when he pulled away.

“I love you so much Y/n” he said nervously.

“I love you to Jack”

“Can we try this again?” he asked

“I’d love that” I said smiling, he smiled back.

“Can I take you on a date tomorrow night?”

“Yes, you can”

“Are families are going to be so happy” he said making me laugh.

“Oh definitely, Luke was begging me to tell you I moved here”

Jack chuckled.

“That does not surprise me one bit”

[twilightmalachite]

Love Letter - On and off 2

Author: Umeda Chitose

Characters: Hinata, Rei

Translator: Mika Enstars

"Well… There might’ve been cracks in them for quite some time now…?"

[Read on my blog for the best viewing experience with Oi~ssu ♪]

Season: Winter

Location: Practice Room

Hinata: Aah… Achoo!

Is someone out there talking about me…?

Ah, could it perhaps be Yuuta-kun?!

I wonder what he’s saying about me, I’m so curious~. Any guesses, Sakuma-senpai?

Rei: Now, now, I told you to stop wavering. Keeping focused is part of your training, you know.

Hinata: Yessir~… I apologize.

…No, no, even if he is talking about me! I’m gonna make sure to obey whatever Sakuma-senpai says, and train hard as I’m told!

Rei: To put it succinctly… Indeed. Right now, there is something you are missing.

Hinata: There’s something I’m missing…?! Gasp, could it perhaps be Yuuta-kun?!

Rei: Now, now, you can’t use the same punchline twice. It appears you’re beginning to lose concentration, so maybe it’s best we take a break.

Hinata: Mm~, I think Im still good for two more sets. No, maybe three sets!!

Rei: You say that, but you’re getting chattier and chattier. If you are drowning your fatigue in chatter, you should take a rest.

Hinata: It’s not that I’m tired… It’s just, even though I’m with you, Sakuma-senpai, it’s pretty lonely if I can’t talk to someone, you know! ☆

Rei: What’s the issue then, Hinata-kun? ☆

Hinata: Ahahah, It’s nice to get the same amount of enthusiasm back~! ♪

Henceforth, following the suggestion of the kind Sakuma-senpai, I shall take a break once I finish this set~!

Switch your hands and feet while stationary, and hold the pose! And then count to thirty…

~♪~♪

Rei: Hm. This level of training looks to be a piece of cake for you, Hinata-kun. You can even hum a song while doing it.

Hinata: I’m counting to thirty! Singing the chorus of this song takes about thirty seconds! …Wait, it doesn’t work if I start speaking!

Rei: You have just a couple seconds left. 3, 2, 1…

Great job, Hinata-kun. You’ve proceeded through the menu well so far, executed with perfection. ♪

Hinata: Phew, thanks for all your help~!

I thought this trial would be a lot more arduous, but it’s been mostly basic training. I’m keeping up fairly well, at least so far.

Ah, I’m not saying that I'm bored! Practice and training is all about refining the skill and technique you have, after all.

I feel like my basics are well-covered now. It’s pretty refreshing to be coached by you in an ordinary way like this, actually.

Rei: Kukuku, that’s right. Though there may not be much I can teach, as you are generally skilled at everything you do..

Even last year, you were delegated to give special training to Hidaka-kun, you know…?

Hinata: Wasn’t that because you ordered me to? You’re right, though, we don’t often end up receiving guidance from our seniors!

We've gotten to practice with Hibiki-senpai and with the two from Valkyrie… Other than that, when it comes to receiving guidance from seniors…

…Maybe we’d chat a bit during joint lessons with other units. I guess through club activities and circles, I’ve had a senior teach us how to play musical instruments?

Though if we count the times we’ve been taken care of, there are lots. But when it comes to being taught, well…

Rei: Because you employ a style of improvement through looking at one other. I would say the style of following each other’s example, as if you are mirrors, is appropriate.

Hinata: Yeah… That’s what I believe, too.

But as I was being coached by you these last couple days without Yuuta-kun, Sakuma-senpai—

While I stared into the mirror as I practiced and trained as just myself, I could only think how the me in the mirror would only move the same way I would.

Rei: Hm…

Hinata: This is how the mirror is supposed to be used. You can check the way you’re looking and your posture, make sure your body is moving the way you expect, and ensure you’re doing your steps correctly…

We've only been looking at each other. But a mirror is really a way to see your own reflection, huh?

Rei: And when you look at your own self, what do you think of, Hinata-kun?

Hinata: …About the figure of myself, and the figure of Yuuta-kun… How we’d sometimes both move differently than each other. That’s why in order to match each other, we’d become our mirrors.

But, all that achieves is becoming a mirror. You can’t become any more than that.

Isn’t that what mirrors are for? You can improve yourself by looking into a mirror—but if you can’t let yourself be better than what you see in the mirror, then you won’t ever improve.

The more we consciously try to maintain the relationship between the real figure and the imaginary figure, the more we have to adapt to each other…

If one has grown a little more than the other, then we can grow about a little bit overall, but…

If we stay like this forever, then it means we’ll never be able to surpass one other. We’ll never be able to make any leaps forward.

Right now, things are relatively stable for us… But opportunities for rapid growth together aren’t easy to come by.

So in order for 2wink to go higher, one of us needs to grow a great deal. That’s what I want to do, right now.

Just like how it took us being separated in the SS preliminaries for change to happen. This time too, we're parting ways, and finding ways to evolve.

Rei: …Breaking out of the mirrors you've trapped each other in surely won’t be easy, will it?

Hinata: Well… There might’ve been cracks in them for quite some time now…?

Still, they’re very sturdy mirrors that have refused to shatter thus far! And in order to gain enough strength to break it, I’ll be borrowing your strength, Sakuma-senpai!

Because, I want to surprise Yuuta-kun, and show him what his Onii-chan can do! Thank you for all of your continued support!

Rei: …Once I undertake a task, I see it through.

I shall draw out your maximum potential and make you into the strongest possible version of yourself…♪

Hinata: Hooray~! I’m in your care!

Although… It really is lonely to be apart from Yuuta-kun~! I wonder who he’s with, where he is, and what he’s doing right now…

Rei: You don't even know where he went?

Hinata: Yeah, that’s how we’re doing things… Yuuta-kun doesn't know that I’m doing this with you either, Sakuma-senpai.

Rei: You're doing the best you can. I’m sure you can’t help but worry about every little move your beloved little brother makes.

All the more a reason for I, too, to respond to that spirit of yours. So, shall we see how far you can grow by Chocolat Fes, Hinata-kun?

[ ☆ ]

← prev | story directory | next →

[bluedalahorse]

musings before I go to the market

Thinking this morning about how of the YR character studies I’ve written by myself, I have one centered on Sara, one about August, one about Simon, and one about Felice.

I’m about to talk about kudos, which can feel kinda gauche, but I mostly want to bring them up from the angle of something that contradicted my expectations a bit.

So it turns out that:

the August-centered fic (published in June 2024) has the most kudos at 32

Sara’s fic (published in September 2021) comes next at 29

Felice (published in August of 2024) is next at 25

and Simon (from July 2024) comes in last at 21

I don’t want to draw too many conclusions about this, because it’s a very small sample size. But it’s interesting.

What really contradicted my expectations is that the August fic has the most kudos. Moreover, it’s a fic that takes a pretty optimistic view of August’s future and portrays him as a relatively decent guy who’s trying to do the right thing. I think some of this might be timing-related—it was written close enough to the aftermath of season 3 that the post-completion fandom surge hadn’t quite died down yet, and while August had his vocal detractors I also think there were a lot more fans in the fandom last spring who gave him grace and wanted him to grow. I do sometimes wonder if that undercurrent in fandom still exists, very quietly, and that anti-August sentiment is perceived as “universal” in YR fandom because it’s what select people are most vocal about. Are people more hopeful toward/interested in/just plain curious about August than they let on? Sometimes I want to believe that, but I also don’t want to be naive.

Sara’s fic having 29 kudos seems to be in part due to its longevity. It’s been around forever, which I think is what allowed people to find it and read it. It’s my first fic, but not my best fic. There’s some cultural error weirdness and some side characters who aren’t used well. Other than that, it’s written in a pretty polarizing format—verse and second person. But it’s a fun little Good For Her story about revenge! I also think this speaks to the bigger size of the fandom in the early days, and the fact that there was more interest in non-Wilmon characters.

I think of all the fics I posted to AO3, the Felice one is the one that got the most reblogs when I announced it on tumblr. It also brought in readers outside of my usual circle. I attempted a more traditional fanfic form here, and had fun playing with it. In some ways, I think of it as the fic where I was most itching to make a statement, because I just had A Lot Of Feelings about the part where fandom (myself included) often praises Felice for being a selfless and generous friend. I wanted to poke at that notion a bit. I wonder what kind of reception it would have gotten if it had been published at the same time as the August fic, like which one would have caught people’s attention more. There is a lot of professed interest in Felice—she won the non-Wilmon favorite character poll, back in the day, after all—but I always wonder how that translates to fan interest in stories centered on her.

The other stat that really surprises me here is Simon coming in dead last for kudos, because he is after all the fandom’s most beloved. I can see there being reasons for this, though. First of all, the fic is written in verse, which is polarizing. It was also published during Simon’s month (I had at first hoped to attach it to a prompt, but then second guessed myself about that) so I was competing with a lot of other Simon fics. It’s maybe the closest thing I’ve written to a traditional wilmon fic, but Simon’s relationships with Sara and Linda are put on equal footing, and also I am just… I have a very particular way of writing romance that may not be everyone’s cup of tea. So I feel like it exists in this uncanny valley between traditional wilmon fic and my usual YR fanfic brand. At the same time, the people who liked it seemed to like it a lot! So there’s that.

Anyway, I’m about to add Vincent to the mix as of tomorrow, in a serialized drabble format with multiple POVs. So it will be interesting to see what kind of engagement he—a much more secondary character—gets compared to main characters.

I feel like I’m wearing a little lab coat and goggles and such. Let’s do fandom science!

[quillyfied]

Hellaverse Theories: Helluva Boss S1E7 and S1E8

Welcome to Quilly’s Hellaverse Theories, where I overthink the entire Hellaverse! Finishing up Season 1 of Helluva Boss with this post! As always, spoilers for the s2.5 trailer speculation and we all know the O in Blitzo is silent so let’s get on with it, assuming the severe weather that’s passing through now lets me! (Spoiler alert: it kind of did. Halfway. You'll see later on.)

Starting with s1e7:

This is not one of my favorite episodes, but it does have so much good character development and theory meat to chew on, so I will push through the secondhand embarrassment and sadness. Just for you, lovelies.

I wonder what the sigil Loona activates goes to; it’s too squiggly for Stolas’. But the focus on it also makes me think it’s foreshadowing. Just gonna file that away with my “IMP and Stolas are legally boned” theory. Maybe one of the cameras in the DHORKS facility managed to get a look at the page of the grimoire that gets them back to Hell. Hmm. The outline of the portal is also red flames, which feels…different? Heck. I haven’t been paying much attention. But I’m pretty sure I thought grimoire portals were more purple and sparkly. Maybe that’s just Stolas’ portals.

Blitzo inviting himself along to MnM’s dates is one of his more underrated unhinged behaviors, imo; would love to see it pop up in fics more (and the ones that play with it, you have my sword and my heart). But he’s SO EXCITED. It breaks my heart for him a little. Moxxie has every right to be mad about it and frankly he really should be; go find and celebrate your own boring as fuck monogamy, Blitzo :P

Alright, 1:56 we start seeing the elevators that get Hellborn folks around the rings of Hell—and whaddya know, it matches up with the ring models that pop up in the background of Hazbin Hotel. Gosh I hope these two shows still exist in the same universe. It just makes me a little happier to think about. Oh, look, an Exorcist angel on the back of the newspaper Blitzo is hiding behind. Classic. Though it seems the Loo Loo Land fire is still front-page news. Is Hell for Hellborn really that boring? Or is it an old newspaper? Well, either way, it’s most likely just an easter egg rather than an earnest thing so eh.

A delightful detail: even the dumpsters in Lust are neon-lit XD (or possibly UV reactive? Unclear).

STOLAS MY SAD BIRD SON.

(Also lol at how Stolas and Blitzo are both looking for an Alejandro :P)

This episode also is really good at highlighting all the painful underlying cracks in Stolas and Blitzo’s situation as it stands: Stolas’ naïve romantic obsession, Blitzo’s general assholery in using Stolas to get in to spy on his employees and ignoring Stolas once he gets what he wants, the way they can’t really carry on a conversation, the mismatched desires, and that’s all BEFORE Fizz makes his grand debut and the night goes straight to the toilet for them. I don’t blame folks who protested at this point that Blitzo doesn’t care much for Stolas, because it sure doesn’t seem like it. All Blitzo does in public is gripe about him and forbid him from diddling his holes, and in private he’s thorough but not really emotionally engaged. Yet, there’s still the fumbling to describe their relationship in the Harvest Moon Festival and the whole Truth Seekers hallucination that places Stolas pretty high on Blitzo’s emotional radar. Stolas’ feelings are pretty unambiguous, but his life situation is anything but, at least as far as pursuing any kind of relationship with Blitzo goes. Would Stolas like that? Yes, I think he would. But he’s still married and still figuring himself out. Second adolescence, I’ve heard it described. So much about Stolas feels…stunted. Juvenile. Like a man who’s finally discovering himself and letting himself be who he wants and is rather than who he’s expected to be. But more speculation on that front later, because this necessary but horrific train wreck has to play out first.

He's putting Gabriella’s streak in his feathers, KILL ME HE WANTS THE FANTASY TO BE REAL SO BADLY. You know what else this show does really well? Debunking the inexperienced hopeless romantic’s fantasies. Which isn’t painful at all and doesn’t at all hit way too close to home I’M FINE IT’S FINE.

“This is our first real date, after all!”

“Oh, yeah…I guess this is, huh.”

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHGK

Like do you all GET IT? Do you FEEL how painfully mismatched that is?? It makes me want to break down crying, because for sheltered kids who lived out their escapism in books and TV and thought life was going to go a certain way because that’s the way it is in all the stories, this reality check, while necessary, is SO PAINFUL. Blitzo is no Romeo (Alejandro?), he’s no knight swooping in on a horse to sweep a prince off his feet, he’s not the daring rogue charging in at the last minute to save his beloved from a terrible fate (yet, I see u s2.5 trailer). Blitzo is just a guy. A royally messed up guy, but a guy nonetheless. And it’s that guy that is still so worth loving, once Stolas can wrestle the fantasies out of his system, and unfortunately this episode is the hard knock his brain needs. And it’s the tenderizing that Blitzo might unfortunately need to break down his own shell and examine what he really wants, the behaviors that he’s stuck in but doesn’t want to be. We haven’t even GOTTEN IN THE DOOR OF THE CLUB YET and I am a WRECK.

Can you IMAGINE being that bouncer, throwing out this sleazeball, only for him to show up half an hour later with a FUCKING PRINCE on his arm?? Blitzo’s game is insane.

Shoutout to the imp waiter who preps Blitzo’s chair with books, you’re doing great sweetie. (I wonder if it would be more condescending to produce booster seats for imps and smaller demons, or less.)

Double shoutout to Stolas’ little butler imp, whose name I don’t believe we know but I’ve heard Pringles enough times to become attached to it, who is rightfully having the night of his life (eat it Blitzo, your game might be insane but it’s got nothing on this guy). I’ve only seen screenshots of this, it always navigates away too fast for me to notice, but I hit the pause button jackpot tonight, folks. Also interesting that imps and other Hellborn are allowed to intermingle as much as they want, it’s just the upper crust that aren’t allowed to mix. Which tracks, but it still surprises me at the mixture of surprisingly realistic and almost mundane fantasy racism and classism that this show is choosing to play with, for a comedy.

This is just. So painful to watch. Mostly Stolas’ overcompensation for Blitzo’s full detachment. Well, not FULL detachment; he does respond to Stolas’ questions, at least. But the way Stolas is full-on twitching and vibrating trying to be a good date while Blitzo is a terrible stalker…lol look his way indeed lol lol lol. “What made you decide to ask me out after all this time?” “UUUUHHHH—” And the way Stolas’ face just FALLS, ARGH. (Don’t worry, Blitzo, your vindication is coming—only it also sucks and we’re all weeping, it’s fine it’s fine it’s FINE.)

FIZZAROLLI!! I don’t remember when the penny dropped about Fizz’s scarring but I know when it did, I was kinda horrified. And like most people, I didn’t really care for Fizz and Oz, just based on how characters I was already fully on board with were reacting to them. Having the full picture now, I’m tickled that this is their introduction, because once again it’s putting the entire audience on the back foot about them and it’s GLORIOUS. Because Blitzo with the Loo Loo Land Fizzbot? Priceless, hilarious. Blitzo with the actual source? OOF. Wow. You can taste the juicy backstory already. And Fizz doesn’t disappoint; he’s a joy to watch work, even if his entire jester schtick seems so incongruous with the exclusive Lust Ring club atmosphere (which honestly should have been my first clue that something was going On there but I was bingeing it all in one go or as close to one go as I could get, sue me).

He's such a bitch though. He’s SUCH a bitch. He and Ozzie are SUCH BITCHES. LET MOXXIE SING HIS STUPID SONG AND MOVE ON, YOU INSECURE OVERCOMPENSATING WAFFLEHEADS XD (and I see all of you cringing audience members, INCLUDING Blitzo and Stolas, BUMP OFF ALL OF YOU)

I do have to wonder the timeline on all of this, though. Like. Assumptions can be made that Blitzo adopted Loona about five years ago, maybe a little more. Sometime after that, Blitzo met Moxxie, and they started IMP, doing contracts on folks in Hell. And Millie joined after that, and she and Moxxie have been married for a year now but no clue on how long they dated before that. Hope that flashback of Blitzo and Millie meeting might give us some insight.

…listen, though. Moxxie goes overboard on the “I love yous” and I start to agree with his stupid audience. Uuuuugh hang on need to just. Crawl under a rock until we get past this one part.

Listen, Ozzie might look more like a shiny Haunter than a chicken, but designing the embodiment of Lust as a giant cock was the absolute funniest move anyone could ever make. Well played, Viv. Well played.

What is it with Alex Brightman and vocalizing the instrument solos? Because I’m here for it. Trumpet vs Guitar Solo, who would win?

Fizzarolli has a lapel flower that squirts piss. Of course he does. Weirdo. I love him.

It’s also interesting that this gig allows Fizzarolli and Asmodeus to basically be all over each other and it’s more or less fine. I mean, they’re fooling absolutely no one in-universe who’s been watching them for literally years, but for first-time real-world viewers…idk, I know I thought nothing of it when I first watched, mostly bc I was worried about Moxxie (and shortly Blitzo), but they read as Boss and Comedic Sidekick for folks who aren’t paying much attention and don’t really know what’s going on. I also find Fizz’s color scheme interesting; his eyes are almost more green than yellow and his teeth are often colored sort of greenish or bluish, I assume to make them stand out from his skin, but I wonder if these color abnormalities add to why Ozzie calls him Froggie.

BLITZO STANDS UP FOR AND PROTECTS HIS PEOPLE. Whether they want him to or not, but he does it, even knowing that Fizzarolli is not gonna be happy to see him. That’s BRAVE, okay!! Especially when Millie is more than capable of standing up for her and Moxxie both.

I said it before and I’ll say it again: Fizzarolli reacts pretty cool under pressure here for seeing Blitzo for the first time in fifteen years. Makes me wonder if they’d been hearing about each other on and off during that time (probably from Barb? But we don’t have confirmation that Fizz is still in contact with her either, do we?), so it’s less jarring, but WOW this confrontation with further context really stings. Even without the context, the way it plays out between the two of them speaks of bone-deep resentment on Fizz’s side, his razzing from earlier cranked up a notch. And the spotlight being red…hm. Interesting color choice.

“Last I checked, your love life is a pile of shit” Fizzarolli the last you checked, you two were teenagers and Blitzo was in love with you, how bad could it have been :P Though I do think Blitzo and Verosika’s relationship might have had a public element that would have been pretty easy to track, all things considered; even if they weren’t dating when she was actually famous, with how badly she got burned and how public her arm tattoo is, I’m sure she rants about it whenever the opportunity arises.

That little glance to Stolas, though. Speaks of embarrassment to me, not wanting Stolas to see what’s about to happen.

Verosika IN THE LUST RING telling everyone Blitzo didn’t return oral, though? Low blow :P But!! But but but!! This is the second very interesting thing that Verosika says that hints at their relationship being messy and deep: “a reckless heartbreaking freak.” Reckless and Heartbreaking are not words you apply to an ex who was just shitty in bed. Those are words you apply to an ex who left a trail of destruction in their wake far beyond the emotional damages of a breakup. An ex who left you in a financial lurch and with a ruined credit score and no car, perhaps.

And the way Stolas rises, like he’s about to jump to Blitzo’s defense—poetry. Y’know what else is gonna be poetry? His song in Apology Tour. I’ve been observing the discussion back and forth on if Stolas is going to be singing to the theme of “BlitzO Sucks,” or if he’s going to sing whatever defense he didn’t get to come to here in Ozzie’s, and here’s my two cents: Stolas is going to be singing about himself and his feelings. His heartbreak at the hands of Blitzo, but even that heartbreak is multi-faceted, many-leveled, and not insignificantly Stolas’ own fault. If the short sassy robe scene is during Apology Tour (I’ve seen compelling arguments for it being during Mastermind/whenever CHERUB attacks in the Lust Ring), Stolas is going to be hurt and angry and likely have every right to be, but from what we’ve seen…Stolas is also in love. And he isn’t blind to how Blitzo lashes out when he’s hurt, thanks to Ozzie’s. Verosika got the young Blitzo, the reckless and inexperienced one who trashed her bank account and her heart and kind of stalled her own growth and progress, too. Stolas is getting the more mature Blitzo AS he matures, which is a special treat. But the bottom line for my prediction for Apology Tour: it’s gonna start out as pointing out all the things Blitzo did wrong, then morph into the things about Blitzo that Stolas loves. Something to bring out those big doe eyes that Blitzo only very occasionally gets.

Anyway back to the roast at Ozzie’s.

“Are you sleepin’ with an imp?” MIND YOUR BUSINESS, WACKFORD.

I also love how Fizzarolli can’t seem to resist getting up in Blitzo’s face. Because. Y’know. They haven’t seen each other’s scarred-up faces up close for fifteen years. Yikes.

Ozzie pointing out Stolas’ family feels especially unfair when nobody knows the situation, especially between Stolas and Stella. But that’s Stella’s particular curse: all she has is her beauty and her status thanks to marrying Stolas. Which could make for a very compelling character, if she had any depth to her at all (note that “compelling” and “likeable” are not the same thing); she’s Stolas’ “smoking wife,” she’s “so lucky she’s attractive”. And Stolas? He doesn’t even get that much recognition; he’s known for when he starts to misbehave according to Goetia standards and that’s not a good place to be in. And good GRIEF, that man needs a divorce and a proper talk with his kid more than he needs to be dicked down, but that’s why we watch: they’re messy. Swapping physical intimacy in for emotional intimacy and bungling it so badly it’s gonna take like seven musical numbers to untangle is PRIME ENTERTAINMENT. But Ozzie is absolutely right: from the outside, Stolas’ affair with Blitzo is the perfect spirit of lust, the swapping of the stable family life for the more exciting sexual escapades with a lower-class unstable lover and destroying all of their lives in the process. That’s the consequences of sin at its best. No wonder he’s so elated over it. Especially since stirring up other drama keeps the heat off of Ozzie’s own worst-kept secret.

Now there it is, the controversial menu face-hiding moment, which Blitzo clearly sees as shame at being seen with him, and Stolas…little more unclear, but a charitable interpretation is shame at himself being perceived, at his dirty laundry being aired out in public. But consider that he CHOSE to be out in public with Blitzo, knowing that he’s a royal figure and being seen at a sex club with someone who is not only not his wife, but on the bottom of the social ladder, is going to cause a stir if he’s recognized. We know later that Stolas really doesn’t command much authority or garner much attention, but he IS known. Really, it’s understandable that he’s overwhelmed in that moment; it’s one thing to try and leap to Blitzo’s defense, but defending himself? Stolas doesn’t do that. He doesn’t rock the boat, he doesn’t cause stirs, he doesn’t get noticed. And being noticed for public infidelity? Kinda heavy, no matter what his feelings towards Blitzo are. Unfortunately, his reaction does have consequences. Damage scraping against damage. Wheeeee.

GET HIM MILLIE. I love you Fizz, but you deserved that one.

(Also, I totally missed Ozzie’s reaction to Fizz being smushed my first go-round; it’s fun to watch him flap about it and snuggle his Fizzy better.)

I also love how the rest of Moxxie’s song still gets applause, and really sets the mood for Stolas to attempt to repair the damage done. Unfortunately…it ain’t that simple. Especially with Blitzo, who just came face to face with the victims of his two biggest mistakes and got torn to shreds by both of them, THEN shunned by his new kinda-sorta fuckbuddy whom he might have feelings for shut up it’s transactional—

Anyway. Blitzo calling it a mistake and wanting to leave immediately? Surprised he waited until the song finished. But I do notice that Helluva Boss’s pacing tends to let things happen, THEN let characters react (Moxxie getting tranquilized and falling down, THEN Blitzo reacts; Fizz getting blown up a second time and surrounded by fire and failing to escape, THEN Blitzo reacts; it’s a little unusual but I’m not mad about it tbh), rather than showing more instantaneous reactions? I’m not sure how to put it, maybe that doesn’t actually make any sense. Anyway. Disastrous date nearly over.

Someone recently pointed out that Stolas teleported there, and Blitzo still takes the trouble to drive Stolas home despite everything, and I wish more than anything that we could see that conversation. Blitzo clearly wants Stolas out and gone so he can have his breakdown in peace, but he deliberately prolongs their proximity? Did Stolas ask? Did Blitzo offer? I need to KNOW, dammit. Because Blitzo comes incredibly close to crying while trying to extract himself from the situation and I need to know whose decision it was to let it get to that point.

Stolas is pushy and weird and condescending but my goodness does he try—and stop trying when a hard boundary is enforced. This poor guy. Gets settled in for a depression dinner, then gets asked on a date out of the blue by his pining-while-fucking crush, the date goes about as wrong as it can go and that’s before the public roasting, and his every attempt to fix it, smooth it over, or do damage control is shut down. No wonder Stolas immediately looks into Asmodean Crystals after this: his fantasy is shattered, and the reality he’s left with is sobering. This is good! It’s also really depressing and kinda hard to watch, despite being very, very necessary! More details later when he has his musical number!

Hang on have to have an emotional moment about how very emotional Blitzo sounds during this entire scene, because he’s on the brink of tears THE ENTIRE CONVERSATION. He’s trying so hard to hold it together in front of Stolas. But these aren’t emotions Stolas gets to see yet. He will soon though! Yippee!

And this night isn’t over, folks! Now we get to see Blitzo’s apartment, where he scribbles his face out of pictures of loved ones and flips through happier memories until he cries for real! What fun! The music playing over this scene has a name, I know, because it also plays when Stolas is in the hospital and realizing that Blitzo isn’t coming to see him and their relationship is probably even more fucked than he realized, but the name is “heartbreaking pretty twinkly tune” until I learn what it is because guess what it does to me!!!!

I love that it’s his mom and his sister that finally causes the dam to break. Because. Yeah, that’s the base root of his problems, huh? Makes sense. Even not knowing yet what happened, the weight behind how Blitzo reacts to seeing that picture is palpable. Blitzo doesn’t cry. Blitzo gets over it. Blitzo is always okay. Blitzo doesn’t do things like feelings or boundaries or appropriate behavior. But Blitzo sure as hell does cry when he’s at the end of his emotional rope and unexpectedly faced with memories of loved ones we haven’t met!

AND THE NIGHT IS STILL NOT OVER!!

Time to switch gears to s1e8, which despite the tonal whiplash is actually a perfect follow up to the emotional train wreck of an episode that is s1e7:

(In the spirit of full disclosure, I usually do these posts all in one sitting; however, it’s the day after I wrote the first half because the severe weather last night was actually pretty bad and I had to stop watching and writing because I was keeping an eye on the local news channel. But! Weather has passed, work day is over, and I’m ready to jump back in after reading what I wrote last night! I’m just pleased it turned out so coherent, despite how scattered my attention was.)

Aww, Loona! She’s so pretty! And so nervous! And I love her contact photo for Blitz, it’s just. So good. (And so on-brand for family; my contact photos for my siblings are also horrendous selfies they took of themselves when I left my phone unattended :P)

And Gluttony! A new ring of Hell!! Huzzah!! I love the look of it; almost Seussical, in a way, but also kinda…domed? Like a greenhouse? The honeycomb texture of the sky (????) certainly makes it look artificial. I want to see more of it immediately. And also, how much unexplored wilds are there in the different rings? Because that is PRIME fandom fodder. My kingdom for an atlas of Hell, Viv. (Also, very interesting that Wrath is the ring that produces the food, not Gluttony; makes me wonder what Gluttony’s major export is other than Beezlejuice.)

WE. DON’T. DESERVE. TEX. BEST BOY.

Also, love Loona for continuing to try this party thing out, despite it clearly not being her comfort zone. At least there’s one introvert out there who can do it. I LOVE the different looks of all the hellhounds, too, but the way so many of them look like dogs really makes me start to question if hellhounds parallel dogs in terms of pedigrees and breeding practices, too, which…eeeeugh. The social connotations of that being permissible and then possibly the grounds of a hellhound social hierarchy are really gross but also interesting. Like. Does the massive bitch (call it like you see it, Loona) come from an established hellhound facility nicer than the shelter Loona came from, or an actual family? How are hellhound families structured? They clearly have a pack mentality, and the fact that Beelzebub is known for throwing hellhound-centric (not exclusive, certainly, there are SO many imps at her party too, like wow, it’s just imps and hellhounds and I don’t see any other demons really, which is FASCINATING) parties but nobody says a word about it against her that we can tell is pretty great, actually. Kinda seems like in a way Bee might be trying to make the best of a shitty situation for hellhounds, at least, but we don’t really have enough information about her or the full social context for hellhounds to give her that kind of benefit of the doubt. Idk. I think Bee’s signature is on Loona’s adoption certificate (hellhounds originate from Gluttony? Or just the shelter Blitzo got Loona from?), but the context for that…I don’t know it. Maybe someone else does.

I saw all the hype on Tumblr when Ke$ha dropped as the voice of Bee, and I had some vague context for its importance to Viv, but I forgot about it when I was watching the show for the first time (which is funny bc I kept watching for her in Hazbin Hotel like a dweeb), so I will freely admit I very nearly teared up when I heard her voice and I was cheering like a maniac. Hell yeah, Ke$ha.

Also. Anyone complaining about her design. You’re entitled to your opinions. Your wrong, wrong opinions :P

Now, looking at Loona’s reaction during that whole glorious musical number: painfully awkward and shy around Tex, vacillating between disbelief and some begrudging awe at Bee, maybe kinda confused about why everyone around her is going this insane for what Bee is offering them. I don’t have a lot of experience with Loona’s set of issues, what with her being a foster kid who made it through the system on her own and all the anger and trouble connecting with others that comes with, but I’m gonna shoot my shot at trying to understand it anyway: she doesn’t trust Bee. Which is smart, given that Bee is a Deadly Sin, and another way that I find her similar to Blitzo in that she doesn’t respect authority in any way, nor is she charmed by outward displays of generosity, so she has a pretty good vantage point for seeing through any potential bullshit Bee might be trying to blow her way (like Blitzo seeing through Mammon’s shit but Fizz being blinded by hero worship). What’s also really funny is that Loona has NO IDEA who Bee is this entire musical number, so everything Bee is doing is just SUPER WEIRD to Loona without context. She’s primed and ready to see through another person’s veneer, especially the veneer of someone throwing a lot of flashy magic and candy around.

The problem? Bee is pretty genuine, but it’s easy to see how her mannerisms and phrasing could come across as fake, especially given Loona’s earlier confrontation with poodle bitch. ESPECIALLY since Loona has a big ole crush on Tex and yeah RIGHT is Loona any kind of competition with QUEEN BEE OF GLUTTONY (she is, but I don’t think she knows that). Loona can’t just snap her head off, not just because she’s a Sin, but because she’s someone important to Tex, who is important to Loona. It’s an unbearably awkward situation to be in—especially if Loona was serious about Bee being hot (listen my shipper brain is always gonna go for it, Loona/Bee/Tex WHEN), which adds another layer of complexity to this already pretty treacherous social terrain.

And poor Tex, being in the middle of this and not knowing what to do!! Guy just wants his new friend and his girlfriend to get along. Totally understandable. (Though, is it just me, or are there elements of Tex being maybe a little embarrassed by how Bee is in social situations?)

(Also, Bee relating this story about Satan and confirming that the Sins aren’t related—makes me want to take this and rub it in the faces of people who start to get weird about “but the Sins and the Goetia are like cousins” NAH Y’ALL THEY AREN’T EVEN RELATED TO EACH OTHER, THEY AREN’T RELATED TO THE GOETIA EITHER, unless that’s background context from other sources I’m missing, but if it ain’t in the show, I’m not fussing about it yet tbh.)

(The Sins being Charlie’s honorary aunts and uncles is canon, though, you’ll take that one from my cold dead hands.)

And after this whirlwind of an interaction, Bee sweeps off to be a good hostess, and…Loona tries to run for it, overwhelmed and embarrassed and more than a little out of her depth. And despite the fact that Blitzo is in the middle of his own emotional breakdown for the night, YER DAMN RIGHT HE PICKS UP THAT PHONE WHEN SHE CALLS. BLITZO IS A GOOD DAD ALRIGHT. Loona wouldn’t call him if she didn’t trust him and need him on some level. I’M FUCKING EMOTIONAL ABOUT THESE FATHER/DAUGHTER RELATIONSHIPS OKAY VIV HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME, A DAUGHTER WITH A FATHER.

But the knowledge that Blitzo was a known figure in the party scene, well known enough that the Silent O hasn’t gotten around to the old crowd yet—how interesting! Verosika days, I wonder? Pre- and post-Verosika days?

Another way Loona and Blitzo are so alike: a little bit of positive reinforcement from the right person at the right time, and they just melt. And Loona using the puppy eyes: super effective, bless her for being willing to pull that out. (Though Blitzo was right on the money for not wanting to put more stress on himself for the night, as the rest of the episode will tell.)

Blitzo is sad. He’s vulnerable. He’s ABSOLUTELY IN THE RIGHT HEADSPACE TO GIVE A DEADLY SIN A RUN FOR HER KEGSTAND MONEY. Listen probably not good for his physical or mental health but I’m kinda really glad that he got the opportunity to not only humble a Sin, not only get crowd validation, but hear Loona freely admit to other people that that’s her dad. HE DESERVES IT OKAY. (I have deep wishes, if Blitzo ever winds up in court for what IMP stirs up on Earth, for Bee to show up as a character witness for him, because there is prophecy in the next episode about what Blitzo wants to do and be when he grows up, and having the respect of at least two out of seven Sins would certainly put him on the map for Most Famous Imp Ever.)

I do like how Bee and Tex immediately look concerned for him, though. They’re good people okay. Sometimes it’s nice to know that there are decent folks in Hell to get through a tough episode. Especially since Loona isn’t in a headspace to recognize that Blitzo isn’t okay—especially when it’s Bee telling her so. He’s always a mess, he’s always fine (she needs him to always be fine), and Bee better get off her territory already. And tbh, Bee has maybe a little bit of an overreaction (which is what I think Tex is more upset about, Bee flying off the handle than Loona snapping at her), but lest we forget: she’s still a Sin. A Sin who is trying to help and is getting some serious attitude out of seemingly nowhere in the process, but she’s in charge of this party, and she’s trying to be nice about it but if Loona doesn’t respond to niceness, maybe she’ll respond to a giant bitch. Which. She doesn’t. She responds to Tex being sad, because Loona cares about Tex in a way she doesn’t care about Bee (yet??? Unlikely but I can dream). And as much as I would LOVE to see Loona and Bee in an earnest fight…not like this, I don’t think. And not with Blitzo in need of support right now. Because ultimately, Bee and Tex aren’t wrong, Blitzo needs to be checked on. That’s just good party etiquette, even without the hosts of the party telling you to go check on your friends. Man just downed an entire barrel of Beezlejuice after having to be CONVINCED to stay at a party when he’s always trying to drag IMP to bars. Loona letting her jealousy get in the way of actually hearing what is being said to her is understandable, relatable.

And I love that Bee apologizes to Tex for throwing her weight around. Seems like a thing she doesn’t like doing. I personally do have a little trouble parsing if her apology is sincere or not, if this is a recurring problem or not, because there are hints that it might be, but until we get more of Bee and Tex, it’s gonna have to stay speculation, and I like living in a world where Bee and Tex are actually good together, y’know?

Anyway, time to check in on Blitzo, which. Phew. There’s nothing wrong with you, Dennis, your voice and design are both perfectly sexy. Also, I love both that there actually is an Alejandro (or a Monica?) present, that said person has a bite mark scar, AND that the frame I paused on has Loona literally punching their face in Disney Hades-style, this will feed me for weeks thank you.

Alright. Captions spell it Beelzejuice. I know it would most likely be spelled that way because Beelzebub. I know there’s a sign for it on the wall of the Hazbin Hotel bar, which I could go look up right now to get a second source for spelling. But Beezlejuice is more fun to say and I’m pretty sure Viv’s musical-obsessed ass did it on purpose. So I’m gonna stick with Beezlejuice. At least in my analyses; I might spell it correctly in my fics. Assuming I write any more.

ANYWAY. Loona being the responsible one is Excellent. Because she’s an adult, and while Blitzo is her dad in the ways that matter, she’s also more in a position to try and help him out too than an actual kid would be, and my good dude needs so much help right now. And look! Loona has friends now!! Tex’s plans worked, he’s too good for all of us and I hope we see more of him in the future (beyond just Apology Tour, where he's working and thus on the BlitzO Sucks squad).

Gonna get a little personal and also gross for a second, warning about vomit talk: I recently went through a medical procedure where the point of the meds I had to take to prep for it was to clean out my digestive system. The second dose made me throw up, which I haven’t done in years. It was two in the morning, and even as I was trying very hard not to spill my guts and then lost that battle, all I could think about was this scene, where Blitzo needs to hurl—he needs that cleanse, physically and spiritually (please note this isn’t an endorsement for purging, at least not physically). He goes through the physical cleanse (an inordinate amount of vomit, like wow), but I think he still hasn’t fully spilled his metaphorical guts in a way he needs to. He certainly bleeds off the valve a little, admitting to Loona that Fizz is right and he’s gonna die alone and wanting her and Millie and Moxxie and Stolas to all be there when he does. (“just a wrinkled old weathered waste” kinda hits me in the squishy emotional bits, a little too close to home) He later finds resolution with Fizz, tries with Barb but gets rejected, and really needs to with Stolas. But he’s an unstable volcanic mess of emotions ready to pop. Have I mentioned yet that I’m REALLY EXCITED for Full Moon?

Poodle Bitch’s name is Vikki? Or was that someone else? Heck.

This terrible night is over, everyone is home safe and sound (well…safe), and that’s a wrap on my season 1 theory posts! Thanks for being patient! Might get one more post out tonight; we’ll see. Gonna take a break and see what happens. Until then: later!

[synobun]

One of them tag games

So I wasn't actually tagged by @cour5t in this, but I was tagged by @rosewinterborn in a very similar game, so I'm stealing the first and pretending it's the second, since the second had a few questions that didn't apply to me x)

Last song: I'm gonna do the last song I've had on repeat for this!

Favorite color: I never know what to say for this. Black? Dark red? Dark purple? Dark green? That whole colour palette is the bomb dot com.

Last movie/show: The last movie I watched that was new was Nimona! It was fantastic, 10/10 lives up to the hype. The last show I finished was Reacher. It was okay.

Next on my watchlist: I've finally started watching Criminal Minds, but I'm already kind of burning out on it midway through season two. And there's still like 300 episodes left. Ridic. I should probably catch up on Foundation and For All Mankind. Next movie is the cartoon version of Mulan!

Last game: Prey! I did a replay of Doom 3 a while ago and mused that the horror story-game genre should be revived, and then on a whim I decided to play Prey without knowing anything about it. And it's the exact kind of game I was talking about. It's pretty good.

Last book: Rebirth of the Sigil by Peri Akman. It was disappointing. :/ Especially since I know what the author is otherwise capable of. I had the same thing happen with John Gwynne recently as well.

Sweet/savory/spicy: Savory, I think? I don't have an instinctive sense of what savory is. Google says it's a meaty taste, and I rely heavily on protein, so I guess that. I have a pretty low tolerance for sweetness despite liking sodas and such. I don't like most desserts or can only eat a tiny amount. Spicy is alright but my digestive system disagrees.

Relationship status: *vague gesturing*

Last thing I searched online: The hours for my pharmacy to see if it was too late to pick up my medication.

Current obsession: I am generally not an obsessive person when it comes to, like, interests and activities. But I am an obsessive person when it comes to thoughts and emotions. Lately I've been struggling a lot with thinking about eternity. It has not been fun. On a lighter note, I have also been thinking more regularly about writing. Perhaps someday that will translate into action!

Greatest flaw: How much time do you have? This is actually something I have difficulty answering, because the line between something forced upon me and something that is actually inherent to me is blurred a lot of the time.

I think I'd say how I behave when I'm spiraling mentally. I close off and disappear from almost everyone in my life. Occasionally I can keep up appearances with one group but not the rest, but by and large I become a ghost. When I am in a conversation during those cycles, it's crazy how badly I'm affected. I don't become cruel or mean toward others, but my speech becomes jilted, I can't make eye contact, and I am just devastatingly hateful against myself.

It's partly why I isolate, so that I don't have to expose others to that behaviour. It happens on a yearly basis though, and it can last for weeks at a time, so it has a pretty negative impact on my relationships. I also have no idea how to navigate being in one of those moods while part of a relationship where daily contact is an expectation. When I was part of a romantic relationship, instead of having one big prolonged dip, I would fade in and out of it. A couple weeks good, a couple days bad. Rinse and repeat. Awful. Terrible. Annoying. There's almost no predicting when it'll happen either.

Fic I’m currently reading: I rarely read fics because I have no patience for wading through wish fulfillment, horny writing, and "He would not fucking say that" fics, so there's only one that I vaguely keep up with. My friend has a Mass Effect fic, which can be found here. It focuses on femShep(/Kaidan) and Tali(/Garrus) and is post-ME3.

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I tag anyone who sees this and actually made it to the end, tbh. But for sake of poking, I tag @rosewinterborn with this variant, and also @deadlyessencewhispers, @tananaphone, @stupid-elf, @carrotblr, @atinydroid, @imtryingx, and, uh, uh... I don't know... let's see... @kkshowtunes, @d3viantvanguard, and @awritingcaitlin. I probably just tagged everyone who follows me. Anyway thanks bye

[seaweedbraens]

As someone who has read the book countless times since I was an eight year old, I liked the show! Totally get what the other anon was saying but I think the different reactions have more to do with expectations than familiarity with the source material. I knew from the second they cast Hermes in the first season that there would be some changes, so I went into the show trying to judge it separate from accuracy.

I definitely disagree with some of the show characterizations (gabe being diluted, sally putting a lot of pressure on grover) but so far I’ve been pretty impressed with Percy, especially Walker’s acting.

I am a little salty about annabeth though. Leah is amazing, but she’s barely been in it so far. They cut annabeth introducing Percy to camp and changed the context behind the you drool when you sleep line. I hope they don’t keep her too serious as the season goes on.

I don’t think the pacing is terrible either. Obviously a lot of pjo fans (myself included) are in their 20s and older, but the intended audience is still middle grade. I think the show does a good job at keeping the more significant plot points without much filler.

I know rick’s motivation for this (and chalice of the gods) was probably just the money, but I don’t think the show is as soulless as people have said. I think there’s so much heart in Percy’s relationship with sally and so much sincerity in all the kids (props to the casting department).

At the end of the day, the show is going to attract new fans and reignite new fans, and more people reading pjo is always good. Of course, this will lead to shitty takes on ig and tiktok but that’s why I’m on tumblr and follow the same people I’ve followed for over ten years

Sorry this was probably much longer than you were asking for, but I just wanted to say that while there are bad part, I think overall the show is worth the watch for anyone on the fence.

thank you for the detailed answer, and i'm glad to hear you liked the show! i think between the people who liked the show (like you) and the others who didn't, i'm kind of just coming to the conclusion that i have to watch it myself haha

glad to hear about percy and sally!!! i think their relationship is brushed over a lot (i'm guilty too).

changing the context of 'you drool when you sleep' is unforgivable, though. rick must burn. that's my holy bible right there!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

anyway

i think what i need to do, like you're doing to some extent, is consider the show a completely seperate....thing from the books. they're not the books, they're an adaptation, and so things are going to change, whether i'm okay with it or not.

with a new show like this comes new fans, and i am NOT looking forward to all the newbies in the fandom making their headcanons and assumptions about the characters based on the show, but it is what it is. like you, i'm active mostly on tumblr. i actually consume very little pjo content on here and ao3 and anywhere, so i don't think this show is really going to affect my fics. i've become a rick skeptic in recent years, but if the show is genuinely good and older fans enjoy it, then great! i'll have to watch it when i get the time, and form my own opinions.

thank you for your take, anon!