#but she can hold her own in a conversation

[firefighterkinard]

My controversial opinion is that I do actually get why Tommy thinks he's just this shiny new toy in Buck's life and that Buck will eventually get tired of him and find a new one.

So much of how we know Buck feels about Tommy is conveyed to other characters and not Tommy himself. Buck shows how possessive he already is of Tommy when talking to Maddie and gets all happy when she asks Buck to tell her about Tommy. Buck tells Eddie that he can't stop thinking about Tommy. Buck tells Josh he can see a future with Tommy and that Tommy's needs are as important as Buck's own and that he thinks about Tommy when he isn't there.

Tommy never hears any of this. Buck never tells him on-screen.

What Tommy gets is "we dated the same woman, it was weird for me to find that out, move in with me" in a single conversation, with no time to process it (despite Buck needing to process it and talk to people about it). With the added bonus of Buck bringing up marriage soon after finding out Tommy was engaged to Abby.

In fact, the most information that Tommy ever gets onscreen about Buck's feelings for him leads up to Tommy kissing Buck. And then after "I wanted to get to know you" and "that something could be with you" conversation they apparently never went deeper than surface level conversations for six months. And the one scene we see involves Buck diverting the conversation away from how Tommy's dad being a lot like Gerrard, and obviously not wanting to talk about his own issues with his parents.

And I don't think it was intentional on Buck's part. I think he didn't want to talk about the shitty details of being a failed saviour sibling, and I don't think he wanted to make Tommy relive either his dad or Gerrard while on a date. Hell, I think it took them 6 months to talk about exes because Buck didn't want to scare Tommy off by telling him what he did to Taylor, or how he tried to hold on to Abby for months after she was already gone.

I think Buck was so happy with Tommy that he never considered actually telling Tommy that he liked Tommy, because obviously Tommy would know that, right? (He did not.) I think he got so excited over wanting Tommy to move in with him that he forgot to tell Tommy why he wanted him to move in.

If the writers were better (and if they hired queer people to write queer stories, which is a related problem), this would be a classic miscommunication plot.

[natsaffection]

Ghosted by You. | N.R

Spy!Natasha x Innocent!Reader

Warnings: Kidnapping, stab wound

Word count: 3,7k

A/N: It’s based on this ask here! I tried to create the dynamics exactly like in the movie, but somehow also needed seriousness..🥸

You should’ve stayed home. You really should’ve stayed home..But no. Your brain, in its infinite wisdom, decided that after one amazing date, Natasha disappearing from your life had to mean something dramatic. That she was in trouble. That she needed you.

That she hadn’t just ghosted you because..oh, I don’t know, maybe she didn’t want to see you again. But did that logic stop you? No. Because instead of letting it go like a normal person, you tracked a random transaction on her credit card, hopped on a plane, and landed in London. And now? Now, you were tied to a goddamn chair in a dimly lit basement, with very angry men staring you down.

One of them paced in front of you, arms crossed. His accent was thick, British but rough, the kind that made you instinctively gulp. “Who sent you?”

You blinked. “What?”

“Who. Sent. You?” He leaned in, his breath hot against your face. “We know you work for the CIA.”

Your heart nearly stopped. “THE WHAT?!”

The second man sighed dramatically, rolling his eyes like you were personally wasting his time. “This one’s gonna be difficult.”

Your brain short-circuited. “Wait, wait- hold on a second, you think I’m in the CIA?!” You let out a weak, breathless laugh. “Oh my God. Wait, I think I’m gonna throw up..”

“Cut the act.” The first man grabbed the chair, tilting it back so that you were nearly falling. “We know you were following Romanoff. What were you planning?”

Your what now? “Natasha? Natasha Romanoff?” You nearly choked on your own breath. “She’s, she’s a spy?!” The two men exchanged glances before the first one grumbled, “Great. The kid doesn’t even know.”

“Wait, hold on.” Your breathing was turning erratic, panic rising in your throat. “She told me she was a florist..?” The second man pinched the bridge of his nose. “Jesus Christ.” You were spiraling. Your hands shook against the restraints, your brain struggling to process what the hell was happening.

“No! Wait, you don’t understand..” you stammered, words tumbling out too fast. “I literally just followed her because she ghosted me! I thought she wasn’t answering because she was in trouble! I-I thought I was being romantic!”

The first man just stared at you. “You followed a CIA agent across the world because she didn’t text you back?”

“…Yes?” For a second, neither man spoke. Then the first one turned to the other and said, “We should just kill her.”

“W-WHAT?! NO! No, that’s not necessary!” You wriggled against the ropes, full-on panicking. “I’m not a spy! I barely passed high school! I cried last week because my WiFi went out! Does that s-sound like someone who works for the CIA?!”

The second man pulled out a knife, twirling it between his fingers. “Too bad.” You squeezed your eyes shut. God, I’m gonna die. I’m actually gonna die because I followed a hot woman to London like a freaking idiot..

The door exploded inward. The first guy turned just in time for a bullet to tear straight through his shoulder. He collapsed with a scream. The second one lunged for his gun, but before he could even blink, Natasha stepped into the room, raised her pistol, and shot him twice in the chest.

Your brain short-circuited. Natasha didn’t hesitate. Didn’t flinch. Didn’t even blink as she put a bullet between someone’s ribs. “Oh my God..” you whispered, eyes darting between the two men, one dead, one groaning in pain. “Oh my God, you!! You just killed-”

“Not now!” She stormed forward, cutting through your restraints with a huge-ass knife. “Are you hurt ?”

“YOU JUST SHOT TWO PEOPL-”She grabbed your wrist, yanking you to your feet. “I swear to God, Y/n, I will have this conversation later. Right now? Move.” She shoved you toward the door, and your legs felt like Jell-O. “I-I don’t think I can walk..” you stammered.

“Then crawl, I don’t care!” Gunfire erupted outside. Natasha grabbed your wrist and dragged you behind her as she stormed into the hallway, firing with precision. One man barely turned the corner before she put a bullet straight between his eyes. You screamed again. “Y/n, I will leave you here if you don’t MOVE!” she barked.

“What-” you whispered, watching people DROP like flies. “Don't look at them.” she snapped, grabbing your face and physically turning it away. “What the hell is happening?” Your breathing was getting worse, your chest tightening. “I—Natasha, I don’t- I don’t understand-”

She groaned. “Oh, for fu-”Before you could process, she picked you up. “N-Natasha!”

“Shut up!” She kicked a door open, carrying you like a sack of potatoes. “I can shoot faster when you’re not slowing me down!”

“I CAN RUN!”

“Clearly NOT!”

Gunfire shattered the walls behind you. Natasha spun, firing two bullets into the men chasing you. They collapsed instantly. Your breath hitched. “You’re killing them..” you whispered. Natasha didn’t hesitate. “And I’ll kill ten more if it gets us out of here alive!” Her coldness made your stomach drop.

You saw it now. The emptiness in her eyes, the precision, the way she fired without flinching. The woman you had been falling for, the one who had smiled at you over dinner, who had kissed you so softly..was a killer.

She caught your expression, saw the fear on your face and for a moment, her own softened. But there wasn’t time. She threw you into a stolen car, slammed the door, and sped into the streets. For a long time, you couldn’t speak.

“You’re scared of me now.” she said flatly, breaking the silence. Your mouth opened—closed. “You should be.” she muttered. Her hands were still covered in blood. You pressed yourself against the door, heartbeat pounding.

This wasn’t the Natasha you knew. This was someone else entirely. And you had no idea what you had just gotten yourself into. The car ride was dead silent. You sat rigidly in the passenger seat, hands curled into fists on your lap, still shaking.

Natasha gripped the steering wheel like she wanted to break it in half. Her knuckles were white, her jaw clenched, and her entire body radiated fury. But you didn’t say anything. Because you were terrified. Your brain replayed it all on an endless loop, the gunfire, the bodies dropping, the blood on her hands.

You had thought she was a florist. You had kissed her, flirted with her, trusted her, And she had just killed six people without flinching. Your stomach churned. “Say something.” Natasha finally snapped, eyes still locked on the road. You swallowed, voice weak. “Where are we going?”

“A safe house.” A safe house. Right. Because that’s a normal thing to have. You nodded slowly, gripping the door handle like you might have to jump out of the moving car. Natasha let out a harsh breath, running a hand through her hair. “You’re still scared of me.” You flinched. Her grip on the wheel tightened. “I just saved your life, Y/n.”

“You also ended six others.” you whispered. The air in the car shifted. Her eyes flicked to you, calculating, cold. “That’s how this works.” You swallowed hard. “This?”

She exhaled sharply, looking back at the road. “You’re in my world now. You don’t get to judge me for doing what I have to do.”

“I didn’t ask to be in your world!” She let out a bitter laugh. “Oh, really? Because flying across the world to follow me sure as hell says otherwise.”

Your face flushed with anger. “I followed you because I thought you were in danger! Not because I wanted to be thrown into some goddamn murder spree!” Her grip on the wheel tightened.

“You think I wanted this?” Her voice was eerily calm. You hesitated. “I don’t- I don’t know what to think, Natasha.” She went silent.

The weight of the situation pressed down on you. The reality that you had just witnessed multiple murders. That you had watched Natasha—the woman you had been falling for, kill like it was nothing. Your chest tightened. Natasha let out a long, exhausted sigh and muttered, “We’ll talk when we get there.”

She parked in a dark alleyway, leading you through a maze of backstreets until you reached an abandoned-looking building. The second she closed the door behind you, she turned, eyes blazing. “What the hell were you even thinking?!”

You jumped. “Excuse me?!”

“You followed me across an ocean. You got kidnapped. You almost died!”

“I DIDN’T KNOW YOU WERE A SPY!”

“THAT DOESN’T MAKE IT BETTER!”

She stalked forward, and for the first time, you actually backed away. Her face immediately fell. You weren’t just arguing.

You were afraid of her. Natasha inhaled sharply, running a hand through her hair. “Y/N…”

You pressed your back against the wall, shaking your head. “I don’t..” You swallowed hard, voice trembling. “I don’t know who you are.” Pain flickered across her face, but it was gone just as fast. She turned away from you, exhaling through her nose. “You shouldn’t have come.” she muttered.

“You could have just told me the truth!” She spun back, eyes flashing. “Are you out of your mind?! If I had told you- if you had known- you would’ve been in even more danger!”

Your stomach twisted. “Oh yeah? And what now?” You threw up your hands. “I know now, Natasha! I was just kidnapped and almost killed!” She winced. Just for a second.

Then, she stepped closer, voice dangerously low. “You want to know the truth?” she murmured. You swallowed. “No-”

“You would’ve been fine.” Her voice was cold, calculated. “If you had just stayed home. If you had just let me go. But now?” Her jaw clenched. “Now, you’re a target.”

Your stomach dropped. “Wait, what?” She sighed, rolling her shoulders. “They think you’re CIA. They think you know something. You don’t, but that doesn’t matter anymore.”

Your heartbeat thundered. “So- so what? What happens now?” She gave you a pointed look. “Now? I clean up your mess.” She grabbed a first aid kit and tossed it onto the table.

“Sit.”

“I’m fine-”

“Sit down.”

You gulped and sat. She grabbed your arm, not gentle but not rough and started cleaning the scrapes from where they had tied you up. The silence between you burned. You stared at her. At the red stains on her shirt. The blood on her hands. The way her shoulders were still tense from the fight.

She was different now. The Natasha who had laughed at your stupid jokes? The one who had kissed you in the rain? That Natasha was gone. Or maybe…maybe she was never real. She caught you staring. “What?” she muttered.

You hesitated. “Were you ever going to tell me?” Her hands froze. Then, she dropped the antiseptic, stood up, and turned away.

“…It was never supposed to go this far.” she admitted. Something inside you ached. Because deep down, you knew, this meant goodbye.

She exhaled sharply. “I’ll get you back to the States. I’ll make sure they lose your trail.” Your heart clenched. “You’re just sending me away?”

“Yes.”

“But I-” Your voice cracked. “What about you?” She looked away. “I’ll handle it.” Tears burned your eyes. “Natasha-”

“This isn’t your life, Y/n.” she said firmly. “It can’t be.” Your chest ached. You had risked everything to find her. And now, she was pushing you away. But deep down, you knew she was right. You weren’t built for this. For her. And it broke you. Natasha sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I’ll get you home tomorrow. Get some rest.”

Well..You and Natasha had been on the run for three days. Three days of gunfire, stolen cars, dodging assassins, and sleeping in dingy safe houses with barely enough time to breathe. Somewhere between nearly dying for the second time, sneaking across borders, and sharing a stolen coat for warmth, something between you shifted.

You weren’t just running anymore. You were running together. Natasha was still infuriating. She still rolled her eyes at your bad decisions, still called you reckless, still snapped at you for asking stupid questions. But now? Now she also held your hand when you got too cold. She taught you how to fire a gun, not that you were good at it, but she didn’t make fun of you when you missed.

She touched you more. Small, quick touches, her hand on your back, her fingers brushing yours. And most of all? She looked at you differently. Like she actually cared. Like sending you away wasn’t an option anymore. “We’re almost there.” Natasha muttered, pressing her hand to her earpiece. You both crouched behind a pile of rubble in an abandoned city square, panting from the last disaster of a shootout.

“Tell me ‘almost’ means we’re five minutes away from hot showers and real food..” you whispered. She gave you a dry look. “Try ten minutes and two more obstacles.”

You groaned. “Of course.”

“Look.” She pointed toward the far end of the square. A black helicopter was parked near an old church, CIA agents waiting by the doors. Your chest lightened. The helicopter was right there. You could hear the roar of the blades, see the CIA agents waiting, their weapons ready. Safety was so close you could taste it.

But of course..It was never that easy. You heard footsteps. Too many. And then, before you could react, an arm wrapped around your neck. Cold steel pressed against your throat. Your breath hitched. Natasha whipped around, gun raised. But it was too late.

The man holding you was grinning. He was tall, strong, covered in tactical gear. His knife dug into your skin just enough to make your pulse spike. More men emerged from the surrounding buildings, mercenaries, armed to the teeth. Your stomach twisted. You had walked right into a trap.

“Drop your weapons!!” the man holding you barked. The CIA agents hesitated. Natasha didn’t move. She stood rigid, her gun aimed directly at the man’s head. Her eyes burned. “If you touch her..” she said, voice dangerously low, “I’ll put a bullet between your eyes before you even think about blinking.”

The man chuckled. “Oh, Agent Romanoff. You care about this one, don’t you?” Her jaw clenched. “Drop. Your. Guns.” he ordered again. The agents exchanged glances. Natasha’s finger hovered over the trigger. You could feel her rage. The barely controlled violence. She was waiting for the right moment.

“Natasha.” you whispered, trying not to move against the blade. “Just go.” Her eyes snapped to you. And the way she looked at you, it was the kind of look that said she would burn the entire world down before leaving you behind.

“Not happening.” she said. Your heart clenched. Chaos Breaks Loose And then, everything happened at once. Natasha moved first. The bullet hit its mark, straight through the mercenary’s shoulder. His grip loosened just for a second. And that was all she needed.

You ripped yourself free, stumbling forward as gunfire exploded around you. The CIA agents opened fire. Natasha was a blur, taking down enemies like they were nothing. You scrambled backward, searching for cover, but the mercenary wasn’t done. He lunged.

And before you could react, the knife sank into your stomach. The second the knife plunged into your stomach, the world snapped into sharp, unbearable agony. You gasped, choking on your own breath, as fire erupted through your entire body. The blade twisted.

A raw, animalistic scream ripped from your throat. You collapsed, your legs giving out, your body feeling like it had been set on fire from the inside. The mercenary smirked. “Oops.” A bullet tore through his skull before he could even take another breath. His body dropped.

Her hands immediately pressed against your stomach, trying to stop the bleeding. Her face was wild with panic, her breaths coming too fast, her usual iron control completely shattered. “No. No, no, no-” You couldn’t breathe. It felt like someone had shoved glass into your stomach, and every breath dragged shards deeper into you.

“Nat..” Your voice broke. “It- It hurts..”

“I know, I know..” she nearly screamed, pressing down harder. The pain spiked. You choked, nearly blacking out right there. “Stay awake, Y/N!” Her voice was frantic, almost desperate. “Do you hear me? Stay awake!”

Your ears rang. You barely registered the CIA agents rushing toward you. “We have to move-” one of them started. Natasha snarled. “Get a Stretcher on that helicopter NOW!”

Your vision blurred at the edges. Your limbs felt too heavy, your fingers tingling as the blood poured out of you. You could hear shouting. Gunfire? More soldiers? More fighting? You didn’t know. All you knew was that you were cold. And so fucking tired.

Natasha’s arms wrapped around you as she hauled you up. “I got you, I got you.” she kept muttering, her voice wavering. You let out a weak whimper as she lifted you. The pain was indescribable. Like your entire insides had been ripped apart, burning, splitting, bleeding. “I know, just hold on, okay?” Her voice cracked badly.

She ran with you, gun still raised, still firing behind her. You felt the cold metal ramp beneath you as Natasha threw herself onto the aircraft, clutching you close. “Get us out of here!” she roared. The helicopter lurched. You barely registered it. All you could feel was pain. Someone was grabbing at you, pressing too hard on the wound.

“S-Stop..” you whimpered, the pressure making you see stars. Natasha snapped. “Be careful!”

“We’re trying to stop the bleeding!” a medic barked back. Natasha was breathing too fast. “She’s losing too much blood-”

“We know!” Your fingers trembled, reaching out. You didn’t even realize what you were doing until Natasha grabbed your hand. Her grip was tight and desperate. You tried to squeeze back, but you were too weak. That was when you saw it. The look in her eyes. The pure, unfiltered fear. Natasha was scared. Not of the bullets. Not of the mercenaries.

But of losing you. “Nat…” You barely got the word out. “Shh, it’s okay..” she whispered, pressing her forehead against yours. “Don’t talk. Just stay with me.” Your breath hitched. Everything was spinning. The medic’s voice faded. Your eyes fluttered shut.

Your body felt heavy. Everything ached. The dull beeping of a heart monitor filled the room. The scent of disinfectant burned your nose. You blinked against the blinding white light, your brain foggy, sluggish. Then, you heard her. “You better wake up soon, because if I did all of that for nothing, I swear to God-”

Her voice shook. Your lips parted. “Nat..?” The chair beside your bed screeched as someone jumped up. Hovering over you, her eyes wide, raw, frantic. “Oh my God.” You barely registered the way her hand grabbed yours, gripping it like she was afraid you’d disappear. You blinked up at her, throat dry. “Where…?”

“You’re in a hospital.” she said, her voice hoarse. You could tell she’d been awake for a long time. Your brows furrowed. “How long?”

Natasha hesitated. “…Three days.” Your breath hitched. “Three..?”

“You almost died, Y/N.” Her jaw clenched. “Do you have any idea how stupid that was?!” Ah. There it was. The anger. The Romanoff rage. You offered a weak smile. “Saved your life, though.” Her eyes flashed. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t joke about this!” Her grip on your hand tightened. You swallowed, watching her. Because beneath the anger…She looked wrecked. Dark circles under her eyes. Hair a mess. Still wearing the same clothes from the extraction. “Have you even left this room?” you asked quietly. She exhaled sharply, avoiding your gaze.

You sighed, shifting slightly, then immediately regretted it. White-hot pain tore through your stomach, forcing a shaky breath from your lips. Natasha’s head snapped back toward you. “Hey, hey-” She reached out, pressing a hand against your shoulder to keep you from moving. “Don’t do that. Just..stay still.”

“…Natasha.” you murmured. “It’s not your fault.” Her jaw tightened. “Yes, it is.” Guilt..The Romanoff Way of Suffering She stood up, pacing.

“You were supposed to be safe. You were supposed to be on the helicopter. Not..Not bleeding out in my arms..” You watched her. “You saved me.” you pointed out.

She let out a bitter laugh. “Yeah? And look at you now.” You exhaled, trying to push through the pain. “You would have died.” you said softly. “That guy was gonna kill you, Nat.”

Her eyes snapped to you. And something cracked. “Then maybe I should have let him.” Your stomach dropped. “No.”

She shook her head, running a shaky hand through her hair. “I should have protected you. I should have been faster. I should have-”

“Stop.” She froze. You struggled to sit up, ignoring the way your body screamed in protest. “Natasha, look at me.”

She did. Her expression was so raw, so pained. “You think I regret saving you?” you whispered. She swallowed, lips pressed together. You reached out, grabbing her wrist. “You think I’d rather be lying in a grave than here?” She exhaled sharply. “…You almost were.”

“But I’m not.” you murmured. “Because of you.” She looked away. You squeezed her hand. “Nat.” Nothing.

“Natasha.” Her jaw tensed. Finally, after what felt like forever, she turned back. And the moment she met your gaze, something inside her broke. Because suddenly, her arms were around you. Holding you so tight it should have hurt, but you didn’t care. You felt her shudder.

“Hey..” you murmured, pressing your face against her shoulder. “I’m okay.” She shook her head. “You almost weren’t..”

“But I am.” She let out a shaky breath. Her grip didn’t loosen. You hesitated, then turned your head slightly, whispering against her skin. “I’d do it again.”

She stiffened. Then, she pulled back, her eyes burning. “If you ever do something that reckless again, I will personally kill you myself.”

You grinned. “I swear to God, Y/N-” You grabbed the front of her jacket and kissed her.

-

-

-

-

[kkoga]

Pretty eyes, jeung yoonchae x IVE!fem!reader

A/N : this is my own little valentine special, so sorry it's a bit late. Had to work my ass off for the collab, and js so yk i also have a dani angst fic in the works so def watch out for that one

Warning ! Mentions of homophobia, foul words, definitely NOT proofread

Disclaimer ! Everything written is pure fiction. No person is an accurate representation of themselves.

Now playing ! Pretty eyes by zehdi

Wc — i don't know ok. I pulled this out my ass. Its not even valentines anymore. It was supposed to be a val special. Watch me jump off the cliff.

Divider creds : @steviebbboi

Yoonchae hesitantly holds hands with Y/n. Even though they were holding hands below the table, it was still incredibly risky. Considering the fact that both girls were idols, and from different groups no less, would completely destroy their career.

Yoonchae hated this. The korean hated the hiding, the concealing. She wants to show off her girlfriend to the world, to shout and tell them the one and only person she loved was none other than Y/n L/n.

But the Korean knew she had no choice. Gay people were gravely frowned upon in Korea. The girl doesn't even know whether or not her own parents would support her.

Y/n was even more popular than Yoonchae. The girl was a member of the famous girlgroup IVE, a group every junior admired.

The two had initially met at an award show. Y/n, ever so confident, approached the Korean first. Yoonchae was incredibly shy at first, thinking, "There is no way Y/n of IVE is talking to me right now."

But after a couple weeks, the two girls had grown close. Too close, for Yoonchae's liking. After a few months, Yoonchae noticed her heartbeat was too fast around the girl, her words almost always getting jumbled up whenever within the vicinity of her bestfriend. It was pathetic, really. Y/n never let's her live it down.

Yoonchae had a feeling she knew why she felt that way, but growing up in a traditional house, the girl tried convincing herself it wasn't true. She had nothing against gay people of course, but the internalised homophobia the Korean had to grow up with was starting to hit her hard.

Yoonchae ran to an old friend for help, who had calmly asked her two questions.

"Alright, let me ask you two questions. Would the world end if you came out as gay?" Yoonchae was weirded out by the question.

"What? That doesn't even make sense.." Her friend sighed.

"I didn't mean it literally, Yoons. I meant would it feel like your world was ending?" Yoonchae almost immediately answered.

"But my— my parents wouldn't... and the public, good god, my fans. I can't be—" Her friend then interrupted her.

"Now imagine Y/n with someone else. Someone who most definitely isn't you. Would you be able to bear that? Does that seem like it's worse than your world 'ending'?" Yoonchae paused, her expression filled with every negative emotion possible. Anger, sadness, and confusion were all neatly displayed on her face.

".... yes." Her friend smiled, content with Yoonchae's answer.

"There's your answer."

After the conversation, Yoonchae had taken a day off. To think about herself, and her feelings. It was definitely a big thing to process, the fact that she had apparently never liked men. The Korean had always questioned where the "spark" her friends always mentioned was. But now that she had thought about it, the girl now knew why.

It took a while, but eventually, Yoonchae had finally accepted herself for who she was. However, the Korean still come out to her members. She wasn't ready yet.

But now, after successfully confessing to Y/n and having been together for the past two years, the Korean finally considered herself ready.

And today, she was going to ask Y/n if she would like to meet her members. Not as a friend, but as her partner, as the love of her life.

As Yoonchae got in Y/n's newly acquired car, one she got right after earning her license, the Korean took it as a good time to ask.

"Y/n? Can i ask you something?" The girl was nervous. What if she said no?

"Yes Yoons? What's up?"

"I.. i want to introduce you. To my members, I mean." Y/n was shocked, but excited. Extremely excited.

"Really?"

"Really. I'm ready, Y/n. I want them to know I have a beautiful wonderful girlfriend who takes care of me every single day." Y/n, so enamoured by Yoonchae's braveness, leans over for an excited and cheeky kiss.

"Love you soo much Yoon!"

Yoonchae warmly smiles, "Love you too hun."

It was finally the day. Today, Y/n was going to introduce herself to Yoonchae's members as her girlfriend. Well, not immediately, but eventually.

Yoonchae had carefully planned out the afternoon. First, she would get her members to warm up to Y/n. Then during dinner, finally tell them something— or rather someone she's been keeping a secret for far too long.

Y/n nervously rings the doorbell, adjusting her collar just before Manon, one of Yoonchae's bandmates, answer the door.

"Hey girl so nice to meet you, Yoonchae's friend right?" Y/n nods, and returns Manon's smile.

"Come in girl, she's like in her room right now." Y/n hesitantly walks into the house and is met with Megan and Daniela on the couch, Sophia and Lara apparently in the kitchen, and Yoonchae exiting her room.

"Y/n! Hi! Sorry, I had to grab my switch. Let's play now." Yoonchae shot Y/n a cheeky smile, one she undoubtedly fell for.

"Oh you are going DOWN! Also hi, nice to meet you guys." Megan and Daniela sweetly greet the girl, finding the difference of her demeanour with them and Yoonchae silly.

It has been four hours since you and Yoonchae have started playing on her switch, the game projected on the TV. An hour in, Megan and Lara had joined you and Yoonchae's games of Mario Cart.

Yoonchae couldn't help the warm smile slowly creep up her face. It was nice. Seeing you interact with her members was just so— natural.

Sophia and Lara were peacefully sat on the couch, Manon taking pictures in the corner of the livingroom. It was as if Y/n was already a part of them, a part of their little family. And Yoonchae loved it.

By now, it was already dark outside. Dinnertime was approaching, and Yoonchae had to prepare herself. They liked her so far, nothing bad is gonna happen.

As they all ate on the dinner table, Manon started a conversation.

"I still can't believe you're friends with Y/n from IVE Yoonchae, How did you guys even meet?" The couple looked at each other, a cheeky smile on both their faces.

"Oh, we met because of a common friend. That's all." Manon nodded in response, and Lara looked at Yoonchae and Y/n a little suspiciously.

As they all finished off their food, Yoonchae had very suddenly asked them all to sit on the couch, which confused her members. But they obeyed nonetheless, curious as to what their maknae had to say.

They all lined up on the couch in order, Manon, Daniela, Lara, Megan, and Sophia. While Yoonchae and Y/n stood in front of the five.

"I just wanted to say..." Yoonchae said as she held your hand, doing so in a romantic manner. Lara's eyes shot up, as if saying "I FUCKING KNEW IT!"

"I'm dating Y/n. I like girls. The whole point of today was to get you all to warm up to her." Yoonchae wasn't sure how her members would react, but she was pretty sure at least Megan and Manon were gay, so it wouldn't be that bad.

Barrages of questions were shot from Daniela and Manon's mouth, and Lara asking for her 10 dollars from Megan could be heard too. But all Sophia did was send the couple a warm smile. The leader kindly asked them all to shut the fuck up, and after the rest did as she said, she calmly and proudly told the couple.

"I'm proud. Thank you both for trusting us, and congrats on your relationship. You don't have to give us all the information about your relationship now— you can do that as the night progresses. Let's just enjoy the night, yeah? You should sleep over Y/n." Yoonchae teared up, and Y/n did too, thankful the Katz were accepting.

Yoonchae leaned in to Y/n's ear, and whispered, "Love you." Y/n giggled like a little kid, and gave her a little cheek kiss, which resulted in reactions from the rest of Katseye.

[that-hazbin]

Media Demon AU

Imagine Alastor giving off raw theatre kid energy as he tells Charlie about his current hyperfixation the production, the books, the actors ect.

And Lucifer and Lilith realise The Media Demon does have a ulterior motive, a captive audience to gossip with. I imagine he leaves them with a business card for his Radio Studio, praising Charlie's enthusiasm for the arts and telling her if she ever wants to sing or act professionally she can audition any time when she's older.

Unlikely but a funny possibility: Years later Alastor being approached by his Radio Studio's headline imp singer/actress/gossip bestie who reveals herself as the Princess of Hell. He did not expect that.

Funnier possibility: Alastor offers to sponsor the The Princess of Hells project, not knowing she's his headline singer(maybe Lucifer made it a condition that Charlie keeps her identity secret if she chooses to work with him, so Charlie's the one with a secret deal instead of Alastor). He tells his headline singer (and you can bet he's hammed up and perfected the daughter stealer act, he adores this little imp who reminds him of Charlie) the Princesses project has potential and he believes in it being possible while telling Charlie he's merely there for entertainment. She's nodding along with the warm fuzzies because Alastor her third parental figure genuinely believes in her project and she wants to hug him like she could as his headline singer and can't because of that blasted contract!!

Lmao it's really funny that Lucifer, Lilith, and Charlie would continue building a relationship with Alastor in their imp/succubus personas. It makes it 100% more adorable that he'd be talking about how much he believes in Princess Morningstar's redemption project to his favorite musical starlet.

He wouldn't even be the one to bring it up, disguised Charlie (maybe she calls herself Chelsea or Charlene) would be testing the waters like "Heyyy, I heard a rumor that the princess of hell is starting a... redemption hotel? What do you think—" And Alastor immediately gets INTO the conversation, full attention, practically vibrating with energy. He thinks it's a GREAT idea and Princess Charlotte Morningstar seems to have a BRILLIANT mind, isn't it GREAT that she cares so much about her subjects, and you know what, what do you say we go visit her daring hotel project and offer some advertisement services, let's go RIGHT NOW and—

and Charlie is holding onto her tears for dear LIFE.

She definitely wouldn't have the will to keep the secret from him when he meets her as the princess, though. Especially when he goes into his whole "I'm a scary overlord, fear me" persona, pretending he's not ACTUALLY that invested in this hotel project beyond the entertainment value. Alastor's all "HAHA, I don't believe in your silly redemption nonsense, no!" and Charlie's cracking up on the inside because SURE, Alastor, SURE you don't. It's not as though you were gossiping over tea earlier about the necessity of professional therapy for true redemption, and it's not like you already half-way redeemed half of Hell on your own just by turning it into a safe space for one's passions and talents.

Real talk though Alastor will be MORTIFIED when he finds out Charlie's identity, not just because he apparently already ruined his Grand Plan For Getting The Hazbin Hotel Back Together, but also because he's been in a sort of weird MAYBE relationship with her parents, and that means he's been ALMOST-DATING THE QUEEN AND KING THIS ENTIRE TIME. IT'S BEEN YEARS.

Wait is that why Hell's political scene has been improving every time he complained about something to them? Those little shits, they've been stealing his ideas and using him as their royal counsel! Hey, he should be PAYED for that shit!

Meanwhile Charlie's glad the secret's out because her parents no longer have an excuse to not ask Alastor, who is pretty much her third parent, out. Like, officially, instead of giving him weird heart eyes whenever he's not looking.

[chessboredom]

do you think burning spice is a drug addict considering that he likes to breathe in the spice storm and since spice powder acts kinda like a drug from that one line in the story where he says that Golden cheese will go berserk after breathing in the spice powder

I have thought about him snorting so much drugs high off his ass (in shit post form in my head) too many times it's not even a joke. He's like a very very very very very verryyyy VERY MISERABLE drug addict to me. If that is not incredibly obvious that he lives surrounded by his own subjects' dust and snorts them to go berserk, then again it always gets covered up by his groans of boredom and obsession for Destruction.

Burning Spice MIRRORS Golden Cheese, and vice versa. They are each other's half. Creation Abundance and Destruction. As destruction is a form of creation, creation is a form of destruction. They are actually no different from each other, for they are each other.

Golden Cheese's motherly love greed, but she is also incredibly selfless. Her kingdom is consisted with people she HOARDED and calls them her treasures. When she found out that her kingdom turned to dust, she tries to make a literal living after life for their souls because her mind was narrowed by her greed that she hasn't thought of trying to find more trasures from outside her simulation, until Gingerbrave and Friends™️ showed her their "selfless greed" by refusing to follow her orders, and then reminding her that she still has treasures waiting outside the simulation for her.

It also makes Burning Spice an abusive father so selfish and possessive that he thinks he could control change by being the one who causes it's downfall, and also making him the only one who would be able to keep all the knowledge of a kindgdom that once stood great, now crumbled into dust with a swing of his axe.

And so they are BOTH greedy.

GC's greed is incredibly selfless, while BS' greed is incredibly selfish.

GC tried to restore the life of her treasures who died, while BS takes life away from those who are living life the best.

GC learns to let go to find that there could be more treasures outside the cage she made for herself, while BS still hold on to them and trapping himself in a desert of his own mistakes.

And if you think he doesn't regret his actions, in a conversation with Nutmeg Tiger Cookie, he fondly remembers his first kingdom, gains self awareness for 5 seconds, changes the subject to hunting and then runs the fuck away.

“The more spectacular the civilization, the more fun it is to destroy it!” -(Korean) Burning Spice Cookie

And he next thing you know, he's already snorted that shit. And What better way to keep the dust falling from your hands and in between your fingers when you can snort it into your respiratory system. <3

So yeah, I think he's a drug addict and it's obvious and he's a miserable freak. (And he's also self destructive, but he can't die.)

Oopsie I tripped and fell and bled all over the conk crete and now I have to crawl over to Devsis hq to worship them and thank them for gracing the world Ancient/Beast parellels.

[superconductivebean]

Hmmmmmm…

I don't think so.

MC does not fit in the trio perfectly unless they fully support Sebastian — and even then it is a snake's den of transactionalistic conversations and amends. Otherwise, they are dragged into a tangled bush of drama where 1) Ominis has all the ideas about how to behave and fix everything but never shares them and is also terminally unable to act on them himself, and blames MC each time they are not following the unspoken and unshared 'code' of his trauma and past that ultimately stop him from acting on said ideas; he, sort of, relives the moment of being stuck in the situation that can only be resolved by taking an unfathomable choice, except when Ominis is older, he could be the best prevention of situations like these ever happening to him or to anyone; the game never explores his character that way, making him a repeated victim of his trauma again and again, which certainly contributes to Sebastian's tragedy, but in an RPGs preventing that kind of tragedies must be an option, 2) Sebastian refuses to listen to anyone but himself from the very beginning but gets surprised when called his uncle's nephew, 3) uncle Solomon; 4) the entire relationship is transactional: MC isn't friends with Ominis, they're acquintances at best, run-ins at worst; MC is Sebastian's partner-in-mischief/crime or worse, a bouncer, but totally not a friend — even when MC sides with him 100%.

Anne is trapped in their bull, and MC is unable to turn off the fires underneath it, mostly because there is no option to cuss at the drama or side with Ominis more tellingly; the game sort of expects you to look into Sebastian's mouth and also established that MC is inherently interested in the kind if spells Sebastian knows in a way that feels OOC to MC's character even.

MC has their own character; they dislike to be inconvinienced, so whenever people pry or have funny reasoning to look down on them, they snap — at Imelda, at professor Weasley, at Sharp, at Sacharissa, at Natty, at Poppy, at Ruth Singer, at Ranrok, at Rookwood, at Keepers, at bascially everyone who does not take them seriously or does not hide their… maybe not disrespect but suspicion or can't articulate their worry.

Sebastian and Ominis (and Solomon) expect MC to fit molds MC isn't aware of and hasn't signed up to fit in the first place. Their handling of everything is beyond appaling, so are their antics.

Yet.

MC snaps at Natty for leading them away from the castle in the middle of the night, and MC is generally supportive of Mudiwa's take on Natty's adventures.

MC tries not to sound rude when Poppy is guessing if moonstones turn people blind when MC holds an one, not to mention MC loses their shit whenever there are petting the dragon or being encircled by the centaurs.

MC is done with the Keepers' attitude at some point.

But MC is happy-go-luckily prying into Ominis' past, swallows Sebastian's sick reasoning for his not pointless but futile-by-method quest, and nearly get themselves killed multiple times after the Scriptorium without ever protesting their role in this Big Inconvinience.

With that all out of the way, Anne might feel that MC contributed to the Drama rather than had taken her place, and thus she resents MC even when MC does not side with Sebastian.

Anne would have forgiven the latter, I suspect, as it is a sad fact of life with a severe disability; she understands the illness had taken a lot from her, but not all is completely lost. Friendships can be mended and old bridges restored.

But the semblance of family she had, lost after this new person appeared and did everything wrong to help Sebastian understand or see his ways were leading him to a dark place?..

She'd resent MC for that. Maybe not as much as Sebastian, whom she slammed against a wall, but I doubt Anne would've forgiven MC for stepping in and doing the bare minimum, if doing anything at all, to make Sebastian see his efforts were futile a.k.a. Sebastian Does Not Respect Boundaries Or Wishes And Hears Himself Only.

Do you ever think Anne feels like she was replaced by the new fifth year that fit so perfectly in their little friend group?

She knows both Ominis and Sebastian can feel the hole she has left in Hogwarts, confined to the little house in Feldcroft.

She has read the letters that it's not the same without her.

Do you think parts of her wishes that void was never filled?

Do you think that seeing Sebastian laugh and smile with this new fifth year breaks her?

Because it's been so long since they had an adventure together, just her and Sebastian.

And Ominis, who was always so adamant about not bringing anyone else into the Undercroft, allows, albeit reluctantly, Sebastian to bring that new fifth year into what was THEIR hideaway?

Of course, Anne would never share her feelings to either. It was Ominis’s spot first after all and Sebastian is allowed to do whatever he wishes. She would never stop them from living their lives and making that gaping hole a little less painful.

But do you think she wishes they wouldn't?

[geminiwritten]

baby sister ; jake 'hangman' seresin

fandom: top gun

pairing: jake x reader

summary: hangman has a serious crush on you, it might even be love, but it's a little complicated seeing as rooster is your older brother

notes: yes, i finally watched top gun (i'm stubborn, okay), and yes, i am obsessed! i'm not too sure how i feel about this, but it's my first one so please be kind! i also tried writing it by kind of switching pov's, so sorry if its weird / confusing! but as always, i love feedback so please, please let me know what you think x

warnings: swearing, very minor physical altercation with a creepy guy, boner joke, switching pov's (kind of), protective older brother, and likely some very inaccurate us navy details

word count: 7493

- One Year Ago -

The old bar smells exactly as you remember it; wood polish, worn leather, stale beer, and a hint of ocean air. It’s a lot cleaner than it used to be – the soles of your shoes aren’t sticking to the floor – and you assume that’s thanks to the new owner. It isn’t as busy as you would expect for Friday at 4PM, which you’re somewhat thankful for as you easily find a spare barstool beside the vacant pool table.

“What can I get you?” the bartender asks with a polite smile.

“Just a water, please.”

He retrieves a bottle from the fridge below the bar while you check your pockets for cash, pulling out a few dollars and handing it to him in exchange for the water. He smiles again before turning around to serve patrons on the other side of the bar, and you start drawing shapes in the condensation of the bottle while you wait.

“This seat taken?” someone asks, appearing beside you.

Startled, you turn quickly to find a pair of green eyes much closer than expected. You’d have to be stupid not to immediately notice that this guy is gorgeous, but the smirk on his lips tells you that he knows it too.

“Not yet,” you reply with a tight-lipped smile.

He sits himself on the stool and signals the bartender, ordering a schooner of pale ale draught before pulling a few notes out of his back pocket. He isn’t in uniform, but you can tell by the way he holds himself that he’s an officer.

“I haven’t seen you around here before,” he says, “are you visiting?”

You nod before taking a large sip of water, your eyes constantly watching the new patrons that enter through the main door. You know better than to flirt with a lieutenant (guessing by his age), your mother always told you to stay away from military men.

“Have you been to North Island before?” he asks, seemingly unphased by your lack of enthusiasm for conversation.

“Yeah, a few times.”

“Military family?”

“Sort of,” you reply.

“Okay, let me guess,” he leans both elbows on the bar and looks at you, unleashing the full power of his pretty green eyes, “your dad was military, gone for months at a time with little to no contact, which left your mom to raise you all on her own. You would hear her crying at night and watch her struggle every day, but then when your dad got home, he was the hero; forget about all her hard work. Eventually, your mom got sick of being alone and began to resent him, so they grew apart and the next thing you know, dad moves out with his new girlfriend and mum tells you every single day never to date a man in the military.”

You can’t help the small smile tugging at your lips, because damn this man is pretty, and you simply can’t find it in yourself to ignore him.

“Close,” you say, “but it was her first husband who was military, and he died in action. My father was a banker, safe but boring, and it didn’t work out. But you are right about one thing; mom has always told me not to date a man in the military.”

“Oh,” he takes a long sip of his beer, stalling as he tries to think of something to say that isn’t totally insensitive.

“Not that I always listen to what she says,” you add with a smirk, making him choke on his mouthful of beer.

He looks back at you, shocked but still smiling, “Are you flirting with me?”

Your turn sideways on the stool to face him, opening your mouth to reply when a familiar sight walking toward you catches your attention. You stop and smile, looking straight past the man sitting beside you.

“Hey Baby,” Bradley says with a grin.

“Hey,” you jump off the stool, “how are you?”

“Woah, hey,” the green-eyed man stands too, a slight frown between his brows, "Rooster, c’mon man. You’re going to have to find yourself another girl; let’s not make this a competition too.”

Bradley’s brows shoot up toward his hairline, and you have to roll your lips to keep from giggling.

“Oh, here we go,” one of the men who walked in with Bradley chuckles, and you think you can remember meeting him the last time you visited.

“A competition?” Bradley repeats, his tone mildly threatening.

“Wait,” the man glances between you and Bradley, “are you two dating?”

Bradley scoffs, “Absolutely not.”

“Then why did you call her baby?”

“It’s her nickname, genius,” the same man as before says, and you suddenly remember Bradley introducing him to you last summer. You never did find out his real name, but they call him Payback.

The green-eyed man turns to you in shock, “Like, your call sign?”

You shake your head, “I don’t fly.”

“She wishes,” Bradley says as he slings an arm around your shoulders. “Hangman, this is Baby, as in my baby sister.”

The poor man chokes so hard on his beer, you’re surprised it doesn’t spray out his nose. He coughs and splutters, holding a hand on his chest while the rest of Bradley’s friends laugh from around the pool table. Bradley chuckles too, seemingly satisfied with the damage he’s caused, before turning to give you a proper hug.

“How was the flight?” he asks.

“Not terrible, but I swear my bag was the last to come out on the carousel.”

He releases you from his hold and orders two beers from the bartender, handing you one soon as its poured. “You remember my friends, don’t you?” he asks as he turns to face the game of pool, “Payback and Fanboy, and that’s Bob; I don’t think you met him last summer.”

You smile and give an awkward wave, not bothering to walk around and shake everyone’s hands in the middle of a game.

“Dude,” Fanboy says to Hangman, who is now standing on the opposite side of the pool table, “I can’t believe you were hitting on Rooster’s little sister.”

“Hey,” Hangman frowns, “she was hitting on me back.”

Bradley’s head whips toward you, his eyes wide, “You what?”

“Oh, calm down Braddy,” you say, “I can look after myself.”

Payback snickers, “Braddy?”

“Aw, Braddy,” Fanboy coos.

Bradley shoots you a glare as you slip out from under his arm to find a seat, grinning sheepishly at your brother as his friends continue to mock your nickname for him. After half an hour and two pool games – these guys are freakishly good – another two lieutenants join the group, introducing themselves as Coyote and Phoenix.

“So,” Phoenix says as she sits on the stool beside you, “what brings you to North Island, aside from missing your big brother?”

Even though Bradley’s back is to you as he takes a shot, you know he’s rolling his eyes.

“Well, I usually try and visit more than once a year, but he’s hardly been on the ground in the past twelve months,” you say, “then Uncle Pete called me a few weeks ago and said he was going on a trip with Penny. So, he asked if I could come babysit Braddy for a while.”

“Aw,” she giggles, “Braddy needs a babysitter?”

Bradley flicks your arm as he walks past, circling the pool table to find the best angle, “Would you stop telling people embarrassing shit about me.”

You shrug, “How was I supposed to know that you were pretending to be cool?”

The rest of the group laugh as Bradley completely botches his shot, sinking the white ball.

“I’m sorry, Rooster, but I definitely like her better,” Hangman says with a smirk.

You roll your lips as you look over at the lieutenant, appreciating how tight his t-shirt is as he bends forward over the pool table to take his shot.

Bradley points at him, “You better cut it out, she is off limits.”

- Present -

You decided to move to San Diego about two weeks after flying in last summer, and it had nothing to do with the beach day you went on with Bradley and his friends, where Jake tackled you in the surf, all shirtless and wet and muscly. Bradley was beyond excited to have his little sister closer to him, he even helped get you a desk job in the operations department. It wasn’t anything close to what he was doing, protecting the country and all that, but you’re liking it way better than your old job. Which again, has nothing to do with the fact that you get to take lunch breaks with a certain lieutenant. Your brother is there too, but you don’t fancy staring at him, you’ve seen enough of him over the years.

“Are you going to eat or stare?” Natasha asks, nudging your side with her elbow.

The mouthful of pasta that had been balancing on your fork falls off and plops back into your bowl. You turn to her, your eyebrows furrowed, “Huh?”

“My God, you’re practically drooling.”

“Is the pasta good?” Jake asks, clearly having overheard and misunderstood your conversation, “I knew I should have chosen that; the sloppy joes are too sloppy.”

He leans across the table and takes your fork, stabbing it into a few pieces of pasta before popping it in his mouth. Your heart thuds in your chest as you watch his lips wrap around the utensil that was previously in your mouth, and you want to be ashamed of yourself for allowing something so frivolous to get you so excited, but you simply can’t help it. With your brother the constant cock-block always hanging around, sharing a fork is the closest you’ve gotten to Jake in the year that you’ve been here.

“Mm,” he groans, “that is good.”

“You can have it,” you push the bowl toward him, “I’m not that hungry.”

“Yeah, and you just contaminated her fork,” Bradley says, smacking Jake’s shoulder.

“I don’t think she minds,” Natasha pipes in.

Oblivious, Jake looks up with a huge mouthful of pasta making his cheeks puff out, and somehow, he still looks adorable. You shoot a subtle glare at Natasha from the corner of your eye before picking up the apple from your tray and biting into it.

“So,” you turn your attention to your brother, “The Hard Deck after work?”

He nods, “Yep, I’ve got a year of free beers to win.”

Natasha rolls her eyes, “It’s cute that you think you have a chance of winning in a pool comp against me.”

“Or me,” Jake adds.

Bradley snorts, “Please, you’ve been so off your game lately, and Phoenix” – he turns to look at her – “is good, but not as good as me.”

“You are so full of yourself, do you know that?” Natasha says, her eyes narrowed at Bradley.

You quickly tune out as they launch into a petty argument about who is better at pool and who is going to win The Hard Deck’s billiards tournament, having heard it almost a hundred times over the past month. It’s an eight-week competition, every Thursday night, and this is only the fifth week but you’re pretty sure you’re going to kill your brother if he doesn’t stop bragging about being undefeated so far. Then again, he hasn’t yet had to play against half of the dagger squad, arguably the best pool players on North Island.

“Alright, we better go,” Bradley says, nudging Jake again.

Jake scrapes the last of the pasta from the bowl into his mouth before standing from his chair and leaning across the table toward you. “Thanks Baby,” he says with a wink, “I owe you one.” He drops the empty bowl on your tray and slides your tray across the table, stacking it on top of his.

When he straightens up, both trays in his hands, Bradley is glaring. “Watch it, Seresin.”

“What? I was just thanking her,” Jake says innocently, “don’t get your panties in a knot.”

You roll your eyes and stand up from your chair, “See you guys later, then?”

Jake can’t help himself, and he turns toward you wearing his most charming grin, “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“Dude!” Bradley exclaims, smacking him in the shoulder.

Natasha sighs, despite the amused smirk on her lips, “Come on you two, fight about it later.”

You roll your lips to keep from giggling, because you know that will only irritate Bradley more, but you’re pretty sure your cherry red cheeks are about to give something away. Before your brother can notice the way Jake’s words have affected you, you turn on your heel and head back toward your office, anticipation bubbling in your stomach for tonight.

- Jake -

Maverick ended today’s training half an hour early, dismissing everyone but Rooster since he still had sixty-two push ups to do after betting that he could catch Phoenix and Bob before Mav could. He was wrong, but Jake admires the cockiness.

The rest of the squad have already made their way to the locker rooms, eager to shower and change and get to The Hard Deck for a well-earned drink. There’s no current mission for the dagger squad, no impending doom, so that on top of the excitement for the billiards comp has everyone in the highest of spirits. Everyone but Jake, of course.

He’s the last to enter the locker room, dragging his feet and slowly unzipping his flight suit as he weaves through the rest of the boys toward his locker. He isn’t sad by any means, just frustrated, because it seems that the longer you live in San Diego, the more protective your brother gets. His rule about you being off limits isn’t easing any time soon, and neither is Jake’s crush.

“What’s the matter with you?” Coyote asks, shoving his flight suit into his locker right beside Jake’s.

“Hm?” Jake looks up from his feet, “Oh, nothing, just distracted.”

Payback peers around from the other side of Coyote’s locker, his lips curled into a smirk, “So, how’s that hideously inappropriate and all-consuming crush on Rooster’s little sister going?”

“Oh, yeah, it’s great,” Jake says sarcastically, “I should be ready to kill myself any day now.”

The rest of the boys dissolve into laughter, each pausing in various stages of undress to giggle about Jake’s unfortunate situation. Everyone but Rooster and Phoenix know at this point, having easily figured it out by the way Jake can’t seem to focus anytime you’re in the same room, and thankfully, none of them plan on outing his little secret anytime soon. Jake likes to think it’s because they’re afraid that Rooster might shoot the messenger, and while that might be a small part of it, he knows it’s really because they feel sorry for him. The first girl who Hangman actually wants something real with, and it’s the little sister of Bradley Bradshaw.

However, Jake is surprised that Phoenix hasn’t yet figured it out, but grateful nonetheless, since she’s way too close to you to have that kind of ammunition under her belt. There have been a few times where he thought she might be onto him, little glances at you whenever he gets too flirty and subtle comments that could have underlying meanings, but she hasn’t confronted him about it yet, so he assumes she’s just as clueless as Rooster is.

“Come on, Hangman,” Fanboy says from the opposite row of lockers, “it can’t be that bad.”

“You want to bet?” Jake asks, glancing over his shoulder. “I got half a bar at lunch today because I used the same fork as her.”

The laughter, having died down for a moment, picks up again with renewed vigour. Even Bob, who is usually quiet and refuses to comment when the boys start teasing Jake about his crush, is giggling into his open locker, shoulders shaking.

“Oh, man,” Coyote says between fits of laughter, “you’re down bad.”

“What’s so funny?” Rooster asks, standing in front of the door as it swings shut behind him.

The laughter quickly subsides and everyone turns to hide their faces in their lockers, all but Jake who is left staring at Rooster’s quizzical frown.

“Coyote was just saying that he nearly soiled himself today when Mav pulled that cobra manoeuvre in front of him,” Jake lies, at which Coyote shoots him a glare.

Rooster chuckles, “Oh, really? I didn’t catch that.”

“Too busy running your mouth, Rooster,” Fanboy chimes in.

“Yeah, how’s your stomach after those two-hundred push ups?” Payback asks as he walks toward Rooster with an evil grin, reeling his fist back to strike his friend in the abdomen.

Rooster evades the attack, eyes wide, “Don’t even think about it, my abs are on fire right now.”

Jake relaxes as casual conversation picks back up; Rooster seemingly fooled by his lie as he jokes around with the rest of the squad. They all strip out of their flight suits and shower before changing into civilian clothes, packing their gear into their lockers, and heading out the door. Those who aren’t headed to The Hard Deck bid their goodbyes, while those eager for a beer begin making their way to the bar.

“Should we wait for the girls?” Jake asks as they walk toward Rooster’s car.

“Well, at least one of us has to,” Bob replies, glancing around the group of six.

Rooster tosses his keys in the air and catches them again in the palm of his hand, “Fight it out amongst yourselves boys.”

“It’s fine, I’ll wait for them,” Jake offers quickly.

Fanboy has to stifle his laughter behind his hand, pretending to rub his nose.

“That’s unlike you to be so obliging, Hangman,” Coyote says, his narrowed eyes telling Jake that he’s still bitter about being thrown under the bus earlier.

“I actually think I left my watch in my locker, so I have to run back anyway,” Jake lies again.

“Easy done,” Rooster, oblivious as ever, says, “climb on in fellas, I’m thirsty.”

The rest of the group all move toward Rooster’s car and pile in, while Jake turns his back and pulls out his phone to text Phoenix, asking her to wait for him if the two of you exit the locker room before he’s done ‘looking for his watch’.

More and more of late, Jake has been doing things that are ‘unlike him’ in order to gain more time with you away from your brother, the ever-present cock-block. It isn’t often that he has the chance, and he knows his behaviour is becoming noticeable, but until Rooster confronts him for trying to spend time with you, he’s going to keep trying.

He runs in and out of the locker room, simply to keep up the lie, before fishing his watch out of his pocket and strapping it to his wrist as he walks back toward the car park. He could recognise you from a mile away, all perfect and effortless, leaning casually against Phoenix’s car and twirling a stray piece of hair as Phoenix talks to you. The closer he gets, the more he can see that whatever Phoenix is saying is intense, and it’s making you nervous. Your hair twirling is less idle and more anxious as Phoenix stresses her words with her hands, looking exasperated.

A part of him wants to sneak up and try to catch the conversation, but before he can think too hard about how he could become stealthier, Phoenix spots him. “Come on Bagman, hurry it up!” she calls across the lot.

You glance over your shoulder, locking eyes with him and he simply cannot stop the grin that takes over his lips. “Don’t get your panties in a twist, Trace,” he says, though his eyes never leave yours.

Phoenix scoffs, “What’s your obsession with panties today?”

When he comes within a few feet of you, he frowns and turns his attention to Phoenix, “What?”

“First Rooster at lunch and now me,” she says. “Are you not getting laid or something?”

The way her eyes drift over to you as she speaks, a smirk threatening to curl her lip, has Jake’s heart racing. Does she know? How could she know?

He clears his throat and wills himself to seem unaffected by her taunt, but whatever smart-lipped quip that he would usually respond with refuses to pop into his head. He panics, sweat prickling the back of his neck. Phoenix turns her attention away from you and back to him, her playful smile slowly fading as the silence stretches and he struggles to retort. If she didn’t know before, she definitely knows now.

“Oh, leave him alone, Nat,” your voice breaks the tension, “we all know Hangman has no trouble with the ladies.”

Phoenix shakes her head, as if needing the physical queue to stop her own spiralling thoughts. “So he tells us,” she says, grabbing the handle on the driver’s side door, “but I’m yet to witness his skills in action.”

She casts Jake one last dubious glance before opening the door and taking her seat behind the wheel. You turn to him then, your gaze holding him captive as you ask, “Do you want shotgun?”

He shakes his head, swallowing on his dry throat, “You take it, I’m good in the back.”

- You -

Jake looks like he’s seen a ghost as he stares out the window of the car, watching the Naval Air Station pass by as Natasha drives toward the exit gates. You can’t help glancing at him in the rear view mirror every few seconds, only able to see a portion of his side profile with the angle of the mirror, but it’s still enough to know that he doesn’t look normal.

As a matter of fact, Natasha looks a little odd too, as if she’s trying to silently solve a math problem in her head. Her eyes are narrowed, her brows furrowed, and her hands are holding the steering wheel tightly at ten and two. She too keeps glancing in the rearview mirror, whether looking at Jake or simply checking the traffic, you can’t tell, but her shoulders stay tense and her lips pressed firmly together.

“So,” you say, swivelling in your chair to properly look at Jake, “how was flight school?”

His face breaks into a soft smile and your pulse triples its speed, your heart thundering in your chest as you stare into his pretty green eyes. “I graduated flight school a while ago, darlin’,” he says.

You love when he uses a pet name other than your nickname, because ‘baby�� just doesn’t have the same ring when its something your whole family uses.

“I know, but I heard Maverick over the comms say that he was going to send the lot of you back to flight school.”

Jake chuckles, “You were listening on the comms?”

You shrug, “Sometimes I listen in, just to be nosey.”

You really only do it so you can enjoy Jake’s voice throughout the day, because something about Jake in that cockpit doing what he does best gets you incredibly hot and bothered. What can you say? You’re a masochist.

“Well, I better start watching my language,” he says, “or I can just tell Mav that you’ve been listening in.”

Your eyes widen, “You wouldn’t do that.”

His smile turns into a smirk, “You sure about that?”

All you want to do is crawl into the back seat and crush your lips against his. He looks good enough to eat right now, fresh from a shower, his damp hair a little spikier than usual, and his green eyes sparkling with mischief and something else you can’t quite place.

“Speaking of Mav,” Natasha pipes in, “he said he was going to stop by the bar tonight.”

Great, not only a brother but a cock-blocking uncle too. Well, uncle figure.

“Oh, fun,” you say, trying not to sound so sarcastic, but Natasha isn’t stupid. She catches your displeased tone and shoots you a knowing look, her lips now curled into a smug smile. At least she seems to have figured out her math problem.

A minute later, Natasha pulls the car into the gravel parking lot of The Hard Deck bar. She finds a park right next to Rooster’s car, and the three of you climb out in silence. You can hear the jukebox playing from outside as you approach the main door, Natasha in the lead and typing a message on her phone while you and Jake follow closely behind.

“Nervous?” you ask him, referring to the pool comp.

He chuckles, “Only because you’ll be watching, darlin’.”

Butterflies erupt in your stomach, their wings making you sick with nerves as they flutter violently. You want to reply, but your brain is complete mush as you stare back at his gorgeous grin, so all you can do is playfully roll your eyes and bump your shoulder against his.

The three of you enter the bar and make a beeline for the familiar faces seated at the booth closest to the pool table. The cues and balls are nowhere to be found, and there’s a sign written in black marker laying on the green felt that reads ‘POOL COMP IN SESSION, DO NOT TOUCH’.

Before you can reach your brother and the rest of the squad, Natasha grabs your hand and tugs you toward the bar. “Want a drink?” she asks, moving too quickly for Jake to follow.

You glance over your shoulder and watch him watch you with a confused frown as he takes a seat at the booth with the rest of the group. Natasha pulls you a decent way away from the squad, finding an open space at the bar and leaning against it, but she doesn’t flag down Penny or Jimmy.

“I think Seresin likes you,” she says, her voice low and eyes wide.

Your stomach does a somersault, “What?”

“I can’t believe it took me this long to figure out, but” – she smacks her hands on the bar emphatically – “he really likes you.”

“Is that why you were so tense before?”

“Yes, because I-”

“Hey ladies,” Penny interrupts, an easy smile on her lips, “what are we drinking tonight?”

“Hey Penny,” you muster your best I’m Totally Not Freaking Out Right Now smile, “two schooners of the pale ale, please.”

She nods once and fills two schooner glasses, sliding them across the bar and taking the cash from Natasha’s outstretched hand.

“Thanks Penny,” Natasha says, before taking a big gulp from her glass.

You tip your own drink to your lips and drain half of it, plonking it back down and wiping the foam from the tip of your nose before turning back to your friend. “You were saying?”

“Before, when he came up to us in the parking lot,” she explains, “I made some stupid joke about him not getting laid and I looked at you, because duh, but so did he.”

You frown, “And?”

“And he looked totally panicked.”

“Maybe he was just embarrassed.”

She rolls her eyes, “That wasn’t embarrassment, he looked like I’d just outed his biggest secret, and he didn’t even comeback with some stupid, sarcastic comment.”

You sigh, “Nat, I love you, but I think you’ve gone insane. Jake doesn’t see me as anything more than Bradley’s baby sister, he’s probably just fried from work and couldn’t think of anything on the spot.”

“You’re never going to believe me, are you?”

You shrug, “Probably not.”

“Okay, fine,” she picks her drink up and steps back from the bar, “I’ll find a way.”

She starts walking back toward the booth where the rest of the squad are, and you quickly pick up your own half-empty schooner before following her with an amused smile on your lips. Natasha is anything if not determined.

- Jake -

Jake releases the breath he’s been holding from the moment Phoenix dragged you away from the group, toward the bar. He can’t remember the last time he felt this nervous, his sweaty palms pressed against his jean-clad thighs as he watches the two of you approach the booth. He has no idea what Phoenix just told you, and he has no idea if Phoenix really knows what he thinks she knows, but his nerves are firing on every cylinder regardless.

“This seat taken?” you ask him as Phoenix takes the spare spot beside Bob.

He shakes his head, “All yours, darlin’.”

“Careful, Hangman,” Fanboy chuckles, “don’t want Rooster hearing that.”

Jake rolls his eyes, forcing his demeanour to appear relaxed, “Rooster’s all talk.”

“That so?” Rooster asks, stepping up to the booth with a tray of beers.

Laughter rumbles through the group.

“I guess we’ll find out later tonight,” Phoenix chimes in, “you two are versing each other in the second game.” She slides the schedule for tonight’s games across the table toward Jake, pointing at the names beneath ‘Game #2’.

“I guess we will,” Jake says, plastering on his cockiest smirk.

Rooster rolls his eyes before turning to find a spare chair, since both sides of the booth are very full. On one side, Coyote, Bob, and Phoenix are sitting side by side, and on the other is Payback, Fanboy, Jake, and you pressed firmly against Jake’s side. He doesn’t mind, of course, because your leg is warm against his, and with his arm slung over the back of the booth, you fit almost perfectly against his side. In fact, he’s surprised Rooster hasn’t said anything yet.

After two rounds of beer and a lot of banter, it’s time for Jake and Rooster to compete. Penny calls them over to the table and sets it up, handing each of them a cue before rattling off the rules as she did before the first game. They flip a coin and Rooster calls heads, but tails lands face-up and Jake gets to break.

He can hear his heartbeat in his ears as he lines his cue up with the white ball, a small voice at the back of his head demanding he look cool since you were a mere three feet away, watching. He takes a deep breath, reminding himself that this is an easy game, before releasing his shot and sending the balls scattering.

The game begins smoothly, each of the lieutenants lining their shots up with precision and hitting the balls with calculated force. They each sink a few, and at about halfway through, the game is tightly tied.

“Come on, Seresin,” Rooster mutters as Jake bends over for his next shot, “what does it take to make you crack?”

Like the idiot he is, Jake lets his eyes wander away from the white ball and across the green felt until they find you, still sitting at the booth on the opposite side of the pool table. Without thinking, his back hand jabs the cue forward, but without his full focus, it knocks the white ball on a short and wobbly path toward nothing in particular.

The spectators give a sad ‘ooh’ as Jake sighs, and Rooster smirks, “Now who’s all talk?”

Jake only shakes his head and moves away from the table. Since the white ball hadn’t made it all that far, Rooster positions himself almost exactly where Jake had been, bending over the table a little further and aiming his cue at the white ball. He focuses for a moment, scanning the constellation of balls across the felt before he glances up and notices you. From where he’s positioned, he is looking directly at you, exactly as Jake had been when he fumbled his shot.

Rooster’s smirk drops and his gaze moves slowly toward Jake, his knuckles turning white as his grip on the cue tightens. Jake’s heart crawls up into his throat, his palms sweating as he stares back at Rooster. Did he just figure it out?

Rooster takes the shot and sinks two balls before repositioning himself and sinking another one. His next shot puts the white ball in an awkward spot for Jake, and he fumbles again. He’s lost all focus, unable to see anything but your gorgeous face or your brother’s murderous one.

After ten more minutes, the game is over and Penny is announcing Rooster as the winner. Jake isn’t knocked out of the competition, but he doesn’t have to play again tonight, which he is more than grateful for.

“Alright, Rooster,” Penny says, “you’ve got five minutes and then it’s you and Fitz.”

Jake finishes his beer before quickly excusing himself to the men’s room, avoiding eye contact with every member of the squad as he hurries through the bar. Once in the safe confines of a bathroom stall, he covers his face with both of his hands and sighs, loudly.

After everything – all the stolen glances and subtle flirting, every excuse to see you or talk to you – did Rooster really just figure it out in the middle of a stupid pool game?

“This is ridiculous,” Jake mutters to himself as he rubs his hands down his face.

He’s never felt this way about anyone before and he has no idea how to deal with it. The nerves are different than what he’s used to, it’s not like before a mission when he can channel his anxiousness into anticipation and put all his focus into being an expert pilot. Because he knows his jet inside out, and he knows the cockpit like the back of his hand, but this? It’s all different. He doesn’t know what this feeling is because he’s only ever felt this strongly about one thing before; flying. But right now he’s pretty sure he would spend the rest of his life on the ground if it meant the rest of his life would be spent with you.

He stays in the stall for another few minutes, making sure Rooster’s second game of pool is well and truly underway by the time he exits the bathroom. The door to the men’s room has hardly swung shut behind him when Phoenix appears in front of him, startling him.

“Far out, can’t a guy catch a break?” he gasps.

“Were you in there crying about your defeat or just hiding from Rooster?” she asks, her expression deadpan.

He frowns, feigning confusion, “What? Why would I be hiding from Rooster?”

“Because you’re in love with his baby sister.”

The panic he had managed to subdue mere minutes ago returns with a vengeance, coursing through his veins like a thousand volts of electricity. He scrambles for a defence, words, anything. “W-Wha- Phoenix, I- you don’t-”

“Save it,” she interrupts him, rolling her eyes, “I’m not going to interrogate you or try to talk you into making a move.”

His tangled mind struggles to follow along, “Why would you-”

“He is,” she says, pointing at their captain who is sitting alone at the end of the bar.

Jake’s stomach flips, “He is what?”

“Going to talk to you.”

She grabs his wrist, the strength of her grip surprising him even though he knows she’s just as strong as he is. She drags him toward the bar where Maverick is sitting, sipping his beer and watching the pool competition with keen eyes.

“Evening, Captain,” Jake says, and he knows the moment it leaves his lips that he’s being unusually formal.

Phoenix rolls her eyes again, dramatically. “All yours, Mav,” she says, before turning on her heel and returning to the booth with the rest of the squad.

“Hangman,” Maverick says, a hint of a smirk on his lips, “take a seat.”

Jake swallows hard as he sits on the barstool beside his captain.

“You know,” Mav continues, “you haven’t addressed me as captain in a very long time.”

“Well,” Jake says, “it's never too late to make a good impression.”

Maverick chuckles quietly before tipping the last of his beer to his lips. When he puts the glass back down on the bar, Penny takes it, offering Jake a small, almost sympathetic smile as she does.

Mav turns on his stool to face Jake, “I’ve noticed you’ve been acting a little different lately. Want to talk about it?”

Jake clears his throat, “I’m not quite sure what you mean, Cap- uh, Mav.”

“You sure about that?” Maverick asks as he looks away from Jake, casting his gaze across the bar toward the booth where the dagger squad are seated. “If I had to guess, I’d say you’ve been acting strangely ever since Y/N moved here.”

Hearing your name is the closest thing to a prayer in Jake’s ears, because he is so used to hearing your nickname, that hearing your real name feels reverent.

He sighs, admitting defeat, “Who told you?”

Mav chuckles again, “Technically, Phoenix did, but no one had to tell me. I might be old, but I’m not stupid, and I’ve lived long enough to recognise the way you look at her.”

Jake frowns, “Why haven’t you said anything?”

“I was kind of enjoying the way you’ve been sucking up to Rooster,” Mav replies sheepishly, “letting him be team leader in all the mission simulations, buying him beers every weekend, and letting him win at pool of course.”

Jake can feel his cheeks burning, “I didn’t let him win, Mav, I just can’t focus when she’s around.”

Maverick claps a hand on Jake’s shoulder, leaning on him slightly as stands up. “Then stop being so scared of her big brother and do something about it, before someone else does.”

He nods toward the squad again before stepping back and walking behind Jake, around the bar toward the pool table. Jake’s eyes follow his captain as he circles the bar, stopping to watch the game of pool on the opposite side of the table to where the dagger squad are seated. When Jake’s eyes pass over the intense game between Rooster and Fitz, his breath catches in his throat.

- You -

You had gotten up to go to the bathroom when this man cornered you, stopping you on your way and trapping you against a wall on the other side of the booth. You’re pretty sure you’ve seen him around work, but you can’t be sure, because the only person you do recognise in the sea of naval uniforms on base is Jake. This man is not Jake, and that is one of the main reasons why you can’t be bothered to listen to a single thing he is saying.

“Do you think you’ll stay in San Diego for long?”

You look up at him, pressing your shoulder blades into the wall in an attempt to create more distance between you and him. “Um, probably,” you reply.

You glance quickly over your shoulder, for once wishing that your police dog of a brother would do what he does best and scare this man away, but he’s too focused on his pool competition.

“That’s great,” the man leans even closer, his breath wreaking of alcohol, “maybe we can get together sometime, alone.”

You press your lips into a tight smile, neither wanting to accept nor reject the man’s proposal in the current, vulnerable position in which he has you trapped. When he opens his mouth to speak again, a cheer erupts behind you and Penny announces Rooster as the overall champion of the night. You clap your hands and smile at your brother as he does a few dramatic bows.

You turn back to the man with your excuse for escape on the tip of your tongue, “I better go-”

“We should get some fresh air,” he says, grabbing one of your wrists in a vice grip.

Panic washes over you, a cold sweat breaking out across the back of your neck as he tugs on your arm. You stumble forward and glance over your shoulder, hoping that someone has noticed, but he chose the perfect time. The rest of the squad have rushed to the pool table, taking the cues from Penny to set up their own game while other pub patrons congratulate Rooster on his win.

Just as the man reaches the doors leading onto the beach, Rooster’s eyes find you. His grin vanishes and he quickly tries to step away from the crowd surrounding him, but Maverick appears at his side with a hand on his shoulder, stopping him. What the fuck?!

You watch Maverick say something to Rooster, who’s eyes then dart away from you and toward something across the bar, but before you can follow his gaze, the man tugs you out the door. The cool night air bites at your bear arms as you stumble down the wooden steps onto the sand.

“Much better,” the man says, finally releasing you.

You turn sharply to run back into the bar, but you only make it two steps before coming face to chest with someone else. You know who it is even before you look up to find a very concerned pair of pretty green eyes.

“Jake,” you breathe, your body relaxing as he wraps an arm around you.

The man steps toward you again, “Hey, what the-”

“What the fuck is your problem?” Jake exclaims. “Who the fuck do you even think you are dragging a girl out of the bar when she clearly doesn’t want anything to do with you?”

“I don’t recall hearing her saying no,” the man argues, puffing out his chest.

“Because you didn’t give her a fucking chance,” Jake spits.

He takes half a step forward, guiding you behind his body as the man grounds himself as if getting ready to throw a punch. Your stomach sinks and the lump in your throat doubles in size at the thought of Jake getting hurt for you. Just as you think the man is about to wind his arm back, his scowl shifts to something behind you and his jaw goes slack. Glancing over your shoulder, you see Javy and Reuben step out of the bar and your heart aches with fondness.

Without so much as another word, the man shoots Jake one last look before turning and walking away. Javy and Reuben chuckle to each other before stepping back inside the bar, leaving you and Jake alone on the sand.

“Hey,” he turns to face you, “are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you drop your gaze to your shoes, “sorry about that.”

He hooks a finger beneath your chin and tilts your head back up, “Don’t be silly, that was not your fault and nothing to be sorry about.”

Your heart is pounding in your ears, drowning out the music from the bar and the sound of waves crashing. All you can feel is Jake, close and comforting, and staring down at you as if he might want to kiss you too.

“Well,” you step toward him, as close as you can get without pressing your body against his, “then I’m sorry about what might happen to you after I do this.”

You curl your fingers into the material at the collar of his shirt and pull him forward, stretching up onto your toes to meet his lips with yours. He’s startled at first, but quickly responds, his hands grabbing your hips and pulling your body against his. He tastes like beer and spearmint gum, his lips soft as that move with yours, fitting together in the most perfect way. As you take a quick breath, his tongue slides past your lips and he tilts his head, deepening the kiss.

You wrap your arms around his neck to hold yourself up, and just as his hands begin sliding down your hips, you’re both startled by a loud wolf whistle. You both turn toward the bar and see Mickey with his head out the window and a stupidly wide grin plastered across his face. The rest of the squad are all pressed against the glass, almost completely fogging it up as they cheer and wave.

“Oh, God,” Jake sighs, “Rooster is going to kill me.”

You can’t help but giggle, “Don’t worry, Hangman, I’ll protect you this time.”

Inside the bar, your brother turns to Maverick, having to look away as you pull Jake into another kiss. “You’re seriously okay with this?” he asks, “You’re okay with Hangman sticking his tongue down the throat of my baby sister?”

Maverick chuckles, “She’s not just your baby sister Bradley, and that’s not Hangman. That’s Jake and Y/N, and it looks to me like they might be in love.”

Bradley rolls his eyes and pretends to gag, deciding to ignore the scene on the beach and return his attention to the pool table. He knows deep down that Maverick is right, so he silently gives his blessing while starting a list in his head of what he will and will not allow the two of you to do in front of him.

END.

[stuck-in-jelly]

Found myself thinking about Lissa, how all of the conversations about her are exclusively from unreliable narrator stand points.

With most flash back sequences we often the truth unfold. While in the story it is being recalled we as the audience get to see how everything actually went down, the narrators voice fading into the true scene but Lissa is never granted that same treatment.

In every flashback or mention of her she never speaks for herself, never recalls her own memories or her choices. It was always narrated by her children or by her ex-husband, all of which don’t have the full story from each other.

I think it is best symbolized in how every time anyone speaks of her it is through 2D story format.

She has a 3D model, one that is used for a large scene but it isn't used when Viren is recalling his memories with her and in-between that Kpp'Ar gets an animated sequence but not her.

Even if it wasn't intentional, it highlights how much of Lissa we still don't really know about. Everyone who speaks of her doesn't truly have her side of the story, they dont know her thoughts, her feelings, her actions and why she did them. They don't ever have the full picture.

We see her in the show once, when she speaks to Claudia and tries to talk her down.

But that isn’t Lissa speaking.

It's Soren.

It’s what Soren thinks of his mom, its what he thinks she would say to Claudia or maybe its even what he wants to say to Claudia and in turn to himself. They tell themselves stories of their mother in place of her.

Viren remembers her as a weeping woman he assaulted, Claudia remembers her as angrily shouting at her father, and judging by Lunjanne’s performance Soren remembers her as an elegant woman. Lissa has never been truly seen.

Which is fascinating because thinking about it Lissa is the only one of them to have the full story of their past.

Lissa knows what happened to Kpp’ar, she knows the spell preformed on Soren, She remebers a time with Claudia in the groove, and only she, now that Viren is dead, knows the real reason why she left.

It’s insane the amount of closure she holds in her hands for her children, the amount of things she can tell them but never has, and maybe never will. Perhaps like Viren, she will take it to the grave.

But we don’t really know if she would or would not.

[threepoint14art]

Day 2: confession

YAYYY TODDAI YAYYYYYY YAYYYY!

Alright, time to talk about what possessed me to ship them and how I think this confession would play out.

For me, both Mai and Toddy are lonely in their own ways.

Toddy carries the weight of her relationship with Bon—she loved him deeply and genuinely, but it was never reciprocated romantically. Beyond that, she’s his friend, yet she feels out of place among Bon’s other friends, as if he’s almost embarrassed to admit he enjoys her company. She has no deep connections with anyone her age; Bon prefers his “better” friends and even some guy he just met over her. She’s left standing on the outside, alone.

And it’s not like she doesn’t know why. Toddy is blunt to the point of rudeness, struggles with social cues, and lacks tact in conversations. She doesn’t sugarcoat things or bother with fake niceties—either because she doesn’t realize how harsh she sounds or because she refuses to play along with social conventions she sees as meaningless. Some social rules make sense, don't be too loud, don't look sloppy, dont chew with your mouth open. But fakeness? That serves no purpose. In a world that often pushes people like her aside, she holds her ground. She’s independent, skilled, and knowledgeable. Why pretend to like something she doesn’t? Why follow unwritten social rules that seem arbitrary?

Mai, on the other hand, mostly sticks to her family. People don’t really like her, and that’s fine—she doesn’t resent it. She can’t resent much of anything. Her mind is wired for relentless positivity, to the point where she struggles to understand sadness, let alone why some people need to feel it. She’s loud, strange, and exhausting to be around, so most people don’t stick around. They have their real friends, and Mai is just… there.

Like her sibling, Mai believes love is unattainable for her. Not because she’s unworthy, but because she’s missing some fundamental pieces of what makes a person "normal." And that’s okay. She’s just too weird to be loved in that way—it’s not self-deprecation; it’s just a fact. No reason to be sad about it.

Their similarities draw them together. They’re both "too much," both incapable of filtering their words, both struggling with empathy in conventional ways. But instead of clashing, they understand each other. Mai blurts out whatever comes to mind, not to be cruel, but because that’s just how she is. Her response to emotional distress is suffocating positivity because that’s all she knows. Toddy doesn’t bother with fake pleasantries or polite omissions—why would she? To her, honesty is the only thing that matters. The very things that alienate them from others become a shared language between them.

They’d start as friends—close friends—confusing everyone around them. After all, Toddy is someone who is all caught up on looking "good" and "proper", while Mai is the weirdest kid in school. By all logic, their relationship should be antagonistic

But then there’s Mai, showing up at odd hours, pestering Toddy late at night just because she can. Toddy, exasperated, telling her to dress warmer because it’s freezing. Mai ignoring her, dragging her along to one of her favorite spots—a quiet place where the stars shine brighter than anywhere else.

And there, under the vast sky, she confesses. No theatrics, no layers of mystery, no grand gesture. Just simple words, because that’s how Toddy likes things.

And Toddy says yes. Loudly. Immediately. Throwing herself into a hug, because that’s how Mai likes things.

[brklynbxby]

Dan’s gaze softened, his eyes tracing the cadence of Jasmine’s words as they wove through the air, delicate yet profound, forming a tapestry of understanding between them. Her voice held the weight of something deep, a quiet intensity that seemed to draw the very essence of the poem out into the light. Each word she spoke resonated in him like a chord struck in the quiet of a night, reverberating through the silence with an aching clarity. It was as if she had unfurled the hidden soul of the poem, each thread of insight woven into a deeper truth. He let the moment linger, allowing the space between them to breathe before he spoke, his voice steady but thick with contemplation. "You’re absolutely right—the longing in that poem is almost palpable," he began, his tone holding a warmth, as if her words had kindled something in him. "I love how you brought up the idea of romanticising what we can’t have. There’s a peculiar beauty in desiring the unattainable. Romantic poets like Keats and Byron, they did it so well, elevating their lovers— or the very idea of them— to almost divine status, embodying beauty, grace, and the unattainable."

The words hung in the air, like the last notes of a song, reverberating between them. He let the rhythm of the poem stir quietly in his mind, feeling its pulse as if it had taken on a life of its own. "The repetition underscores the relentless, constant nature of their thoughts about her," he continued, his voice a shade softer now, as if the words themselves were fragile, meant to be savored. "That 'every day, every hour'— it’s more than longing. It’s a consuming need. The kind of passion the Romantics captured so beautifully."

He took a step back, his shoes echoing softly on the floor as he began to walk, his gaze briefly leaving hers but the space between them still crackling with an unspoken energy. His fingers brushed the edge of the podium, the smooth, cool wood grounding him in a way that felt oddly comforting, like the steadying beat of his own heart. "The poets, like Keats or Byron, were consumed by love that was never practical, never easy," he said, the words feeling like a quiet confession. "They elevated their objects of affection to a realm beyond the mundane world—almost to a divine level. And here, in this poem, the speaker does the same, losing themselves in a love that is not bound by the physical world but by something far more transcendent."

For a moment, the room seemed to hold its breath. The mundane sounds of shifting chairs, of pens tapping lightly against paper, fell away, stilled by the weight of the conversation. It was as though the very air had thickened with meaning, wrapping itself around the words, absorbing them. The light filtering through the tall windows softened, turning golden as it washed over the room, as if it too were listening, caught in the fragile dance of thought unfolding between them. Dan’s gaze flickered to the students before him, the quiet tension in the room shifting as he returned to the flow of the lesson. "Now, some critics argue that Romanticism, particularly in its glorification of nature, can be a form of escapism," he posed, his voice steady but layered with unspoken layers. "Do you think the Romantics were avoiding the harsh realities of their time, or were they offering a way to process them?"

This time, he made a point to avert his gaze from Jasmine, though the weight of his question carried an almost imperceptible nod in her direction, a sign of unspoken acknowledgment, a connection still lingering in the air. He did not want the attention of the room to shift too heavily onto them, though a part of him was acutely aware of the undercurrent between them, a quiet spark igniting in the space that would remain, unspoken, in the room.

Jasmine’s breath caught again as he read aloud, each word feeling like a delicate thread pulling her in closer. She could hear the tenderness in his voice, the reverence he held for the words, and it made her heart flutter. Her gaze shifted downward for a brief moment, her mind racing, her emotions tumbling over themselves. She could feel the warmth creeping up her neck, her skin flushed. It felt like he was speaking directly to her, the words wrapping around her like a secret meant just for her.

But she had to focus. She couldn’t let herself get swept up completely. Not yet. Not when she was still trying to understand what was happening between them.

Slowly, she exhaled, forcing her thoughts to still. She raised her hand again, this time with more confidence, feeling the eyes of the room on her, but she didn’t care. This felt important. She swallowed the nerves that had resurfaced and met his gaze.

“Well…” She hesitated, the words almost too soft to hear, but she pushed on. “The poem—it’s beautiful, but there’s a kind of quiet ache to it. A longing for something that feels just out of reach. It makes me think of how we often romanticize what we can’t have. The distance, the separation—those are the things that make us yearn more. Like the Romantics with their idealized visions of nature and beauty, the poet here is in love with the idea of her, not necessarily the reality. There’s a lot of power in that kind of longing, though. It shows how much we can invest in something, even if it’s a dream.”

Jasmine looked down at her hands for a moment, gathering her thoughts. She wasn’t sure if she had said everything just right, but it felt honest, like her words were rooted in something real. She looked back up at him, trying to steady her breath. “I think it’s about how we all seek connection, something that makes us feel less alone. Whether it’s through love, art, or poetry—it's like we’re all just trying to find that deeper connection, even if it’s with a memory or a feeling.”

She smiled, though it was a little shaky, unsure of where this conversation was headed, but she didn’t want to shy away from it now.

There was a brief silence that stretched out, an undercurrent of tension in the room. Jasmine could feel the weight of the classroom’s gaze on her, and though she had spoken from her heart, the uncertainty in the air lingered. She noticed a few students exchanging confused looks, their eyes flickering between her and Dan. It wasn’t lost on her that there was something different about this exchange, something not quite typical of the usual lecture. A couple of students shifted uncomfortably in their seats, some murmuring quietly to each other, unsure what to make of the subtle intimacy that seemed to have unfolded. One of them, a guy with dark hair and an eyebrow raised in curiosity, nudged his neighbor, a girl who seemed just as puzzled. “Did they just—did she just…” His voice trailed off, leaving the question hanging in the air.

Jasmine's cheeks burned. She quickly looked down at her notebook, her fingers nervously tapping the page as she tried to shake the feeling of being under a microscope. It wasn’t just the academic discussion anymore—it was something more personal, more intense.

[vinylfoxbooks]

February 14 - Minerva McGonagall | @into-the-jeggyverse | wc: 1,563 Part 2 of Medical Apprentice James AU Part 1 | Part 3

“Professor McGonagall wanted to speak to you about your apprenticeship with me, James.” Poppy hums, stirring the pain draught she’s cooking up, “She said that she would be visiting here in about ten minutes, I would appreciate it if you went out and waited for her and anyone else that may come in.” James nods, thanks the woman, and goes back out into the main area of the medical area. They take a moment to check up on the few students they currently have in bed, making sure they don’t need anything. 

McGonagall comes in not long after, striding straight towards James, “Would you mind meeting with me and Madam Pomfrey, Mister Potter?” James nods and tries not to show their nervousness as they stand and guide her into the back room once again. 

Madam Pomfrey has her potion simmering and is sitting at her little desk. She smiles at the two, gesturing to the chairs nearby. McGonagall goes to sit in the one nearest to her wife -- a trade secret that James only knows because he’s spent so much time with both of them and seen the way they visit each other -- and James taking the other one. 

“I apologize for the last minute meeting,” McGonagall starts, “And I bid you not worry about this, James. I bring you good news.” She accios a couple sheets of paper, putting them onto the desk in a way that James can read them, “You did excellent on your tests and your apprenticeship application and papers, I must say that it is nice to see you actually applying your intelligence for something beneficial, and I have spent time discussing with the Headmaster and Professor Slughorn. We’ve all come to the agreement that you will be fully beginning a higher level apprenticeship with Madam Pomfrey and therefore will be permitted to perform low level healing spells only without moderation,” a pointed look, James doesn't blame her for it, “I understand that you and your friends are consistently worried about Lupin’s health and therefore I have gotten you permission to work with Madam Pomfrey to find her process for his healing and therefore can heal him within your dorm in three month’s time.” What wonderful news, James almost preens at the information and compliments, feeling themself get jittery at all of the news. They barely hold back exploding when they thank her, meeting the woman’s composed smile with a brilliant one of their own. 

“I know that you will do good in this world, James.” McGonagall finishes up with, then she stands, sends a softer smile to Poppy, and excuse herself from the room.

As soon as she’s gone, James whips their head around to look at the healer, “Did you know about this?” 

“Of course I did, James.” She smiles, standing up and walking to them, putting her hand on their shoulder, “I was part of the conversation. I’m excited to teach you even more than I have and see you learn to help people safely.” James doesn’t comment that she knows about them, and other students, healing each other already. That doesn’t matter here. 

Something in the room goes off to inform them that someone walked into the medical room and the woman grins at them, “I need to finish up with the draught, can you handle that?” James nods and thanks her, standing up and heading out of the room. 

They don’t let their shock show when the two waiting for them are Sirius and… Regulus? James is immediately on alert, “What happened?” 

Sirius looks at them with an indecipherable look, “Can we get Regulus a bed first?” James nods and goes to open up a clean area, watching Sirius guide his brother into the bed. Then he’s sitting down as far away from him as possible while James grabs a new sheet, sitting down next to the bed. They charm a quill and gesture for Sirius to go on, “We were doing a little brotherly bonding in the form of quidditch, you know how you suggested that we talk while doing a hobby we both enjoy? Yeah, and there was a bit of an accident.” 

“An accident, how?” 

“We were…” Sirius hums, his face going a bit red. 

Regulus rolls his eyes, “We were provoking each other and I stopped paying as much attention as I should’ve and got injured.” 

“You’re going to have to specify.” 

Regulus goes into talking about what happened and James nods, “I know that you’re protective about your modesty, but you’re going to have to take your shirt off for me so I can check the bruises and get a look at your ribs.” There’s a moment of hesitation, with Regulus and Sirius seemingly exchanging a nonverbal conversation. Before Regulus sighs and goes to pull up his shirt while James gives him some privacy and closes the curtains to his area. They don’t make a comment on the scars under Regulus’ chest, instead they hum and take in the colouration of his skin. They get into their examination, gently testing Regulus’ ribs and running a couple spells to look into it. 

When they finish with their cursory report, they go to get a pain draught for him and hand it off to him while they ensure that they know the spells that they’re needing to cast. It’s only then does Sirius ask, “Wait, you’re actually allowed to do spells now? Why didn’t you tell me?”

James smiles at him, “It’s only something that’s been established for about ten minutes. There’s more to it that I’ll tell you later.” They check to see if the pain draught has started to kick in for Regulus before pointing their wand at him, reassuring him that they’re healing him and have no intent to harm, then casting the spell. Regulus grits his teeth and shuts his eyes but doesn’t otherwise say anything. 

James informs the brothers that Regulus is going to have to stay until at least the end of the day so he can be watched. They tell Sirius to go off with Remus and reassure him that they’ll give him the most recent update when they get back to the dorm later in the day. 

Sirius leaves reluctantly, leaving James and Regulus alone. James goes to put his information sheet on the post nearby while Regulus puts his shirt back on. They ask if he needs anything and goes to update Poppy before checking on the others in the infirmary. 

Surprisingly enough, Regulus is still awake when they go back, and he has a book with him that James didn’t see him walk in with. James hums, “I hate to interrupt your reading, but I have to check up on you.” They hold out the pot of bruise salve that they have for him, “I can apply this or you can, but it’ll help with your bruises.” 

Regulus hums, “I doubt that you hate to interrupt me, you love to inconvenience my life.” James grins at him but they don’t say anything, just venture further into the space while Regulus bookmarks his book and sets it to the side, taking the salve from their hands. 

Neither of them talk while Regulus works to slowly apply it to his skin, his shirt brought up to just rest on his shoulders with James holding it for him. Until Regulus hums, “Sirius was telling me that you’ve been coming in here and helping out Madam Pomfrey for a while, why are you actually interested in healing?” 

James hums, their eyes going foggy even if they’re gazing at him, “I always thought that I wanted to be an Auror, but my pita is a potions maker, I’m sure you’ve figured that out by now. He tried so hard to get me into potions but it didn’t really work, until I-” they shake their head, “There are some things that I can’t tell you about, but I’ve been helping and learning healing spells and potions recipes for my friends, specifically Remus and Sirius for a long time, and… I realised that I like healing people and medical potions are just the right amount of complicated and simple for me to remember them well. So I talked to Poppy about helping her and went through the process to start here.” They hum, “I get that it’s hard for you to wrap your head around the idea that I want to help people, but-”

“I can believe it.” Regulus says, quiet. They put the lid back on the salve and hand it back to them. James lets his shirt drop and they lean back in their chair, “I didn’t- I didn’t believe it before, but I’ve been talking to Sirius and it’s come up a couple times. He’s mentioned that you- that you’re usually the one to help him when we come back from break so he didn’t have to think about casting healing spells right… Thank you, for taking care of him.” 

James smiles softly, “It’s- everyone needs someone to take care of them, and my parents taught me how to be that person.” They shrug with one shoulder, then stand up, “I’ll come check on you soon. If you need a pain draught, you can always call for Poppy or me.” Regulus nods and they slip out of the room, closing the curtain behind them.

[shizuturnspages]

About the child reader khaenri'ah, I loved seeing the captain part and the reader, he looked like a father treating a rebellious daughter in a state of rage xD

YaI can already imagine breaking or throwing away food and all the things she sees and making life impossible for the fatui who take care of her

How will he punish her?? I doubt very much that I will beat her and stop starving her

Discipline of Steel

Pairing: Yandere Capitano x Khaenri’ahn Child

You were a nightmare.

A defiant, rebellious, unbreakable little thing.

No amount of supervision, lectures, or restrictions could force you into submission. The Fatui assigned to you had long since given up on making you an obedient ward.

You bit. You fought. You destroyed.

Food thrown against the walls. Chairs overturned. Books shredded, documents burned. Servants injured—some even sent back in bandages after underestimating you.

You weren’t just a prisoner.

You were a force of chaos.

And Capitano hated chaos.

How Does Capitano Handle Your Rebellion?

There was no beating.

No starvation.

No overt cruelty.

Because pain wasn’t the way to break you—

Discipline was.

And Capitano?

He was a master of discipline.

Punishments – The Unyielding Hand of the Captain

1. Isolation In Absolute Silence

Capitano hated wasting words.

So when you lashed out, he didn’t lecture you.

He didn’t scold.

He didn’t yell.

Instead, he removed you from everything.

❥ No books.

❥ No conversation.

❥ No acknowledgment.

You could scream, you could fight, you could demand anyone to answer you—

But you would be met with silence.

Not even the Fatui stationed at your door would look at you.

And for a child as headstrong as you—

It was torture.

2. Weaponized Obedience Training

Rebellion only meant one thing—

More training.

Not the magic you loved. Not the raw power you were desperate to use.

No.

Discipline training.

Capitano dragged you to the barracks, where recruits twice your size flinched at the sound of his voice.

And there—

He drilled you.

❥ Running in heavy boots until your legs gave out.

❥ Holding a stance until your muscles screamed.

❥ Reciting military strategy over and over until your mind ached.

"You want to break things?" he would say, voice hard. "Then you will learn what it means to build them back up."

You hated him.

But gods, you listened.

3. Rewarding Control, Punishing Chaos

Capitano understood something the others didn’t.

You weren’t just angry.

You were wild.

You craved control.

And so, when you complied—even just a little—he rewarded you.

Not with affection. Not with softness.

But with privileges.

❥ Training with real weapons instead of blunted ones.

❥ Permission to study alongside officers, instead of being treated like a caged beast.

❥ The slightest taste of independence—just enough to keep you from spiralling.

But the moment you rebelled again—

It was all taken away.

The Relationship – Unshakeable, Unyielding, Unbreakable

He was not your father.

He never claimed to be.

But he was the force that shaped you.

He was the one who refused to let you drown in your own anger.

And no matter how much you hated him—

No matter how much you fought, screamed, and swore that you would never listen—

Capitano knew.

You would always return to him.

Because the world would never understand you.

But he did.

And that was enough.

[welcome-back-to-hoimycraf]

Scar was going to explode, maybe literally if saer emotions were going to be this intense. Thir heart pounded in thir chest, threatening to burst out from thir ribcage if it didn’t calm down soon. 

Valentine’s Day was coming up, and Scar’s feelings for Mumbo were as strong as ever. 

Oh, how he wished it weren’t so! He’d already been combating his emotions for Grian, and now he was doing the same for their shared best friend? Oh, how life is a cruel, cruel mistress! 

Jellie stared at Scar, slowly blinking to show her disinterest at his lamenting. The nymph stared at her, big wet puppy eyes on full display, but to no effect. She turned away, jumping down from the counter and wandering off to somewhere else in the Swaggon. 

Thae sighed, standing back up straight from where thae’d crouched in front of Jellie. Vae were gonna have to face this on vaer own, weren’t vae? Sure, she could always turn to Grian for help, but Scar was certain that would lead to less progress on confessing to Mumbo and more teasing from G than anything else. 

Scar's eyes strayed back to the tin off to his right. Below the tissue paper were an assortment of cookie goodness, on top of which read a simple request: 

Be my valentine?

The nymph buried his face in his hands with embarrassment. Cheesy, ny knew, but what were nym if not a man of cliche? Besides, vae weren’t sure if vae’d be able to ask Mumbo the question vaerself once the conversation came down to it. And so, writing on the cookies became the next best option.

Scar braced himself, taking a deep breath, he could do this. He could do this! It was now or never- and he had chosen now. Xe gently tucked the cookie tin into xyr inventory, walking out of the Swaggon and pulling out a rocket for the trip to Mumbo's waterfall. Here goes nothing.

--------

"Mumboooooooooo!" The person in question jumped at the sudden noise that interrupted the quiet of building. Was that Scar? Where was h-

Mumbo's question was succinctly answered when he was tackled from behind, yelping as he landed in the moss.

"Mumbo! So glad to see you!" He opened his eyes, rolling over to find Scar hovering over him, grinning wildly. "Sorry about the crash landing, wind's a bit unwieldy today. Can I help you up?"

Mumbo couldn't find it in himself to be mad, giggling as Scar pulled him up from the ground. "Hey, mate, thanks for the warm welcome."

Scar's lopsided smirk never waivered. "Of course, of course, anything for you, Mumbo."

The two stared at each other for a bit, the silence growing ever more awkward as it dragged on. Scar's smirk started to fall, and a panic set into his eyes before he cleared his throat. All of a sudden, the confident, easy-going front was back up and ready to roll. "Actually- I came here to give you something."

Mumbo perked up at that. "Oh- you did?" He hadn't been expecting gifts, but he was never one to turn down a present.

"Yes, yes, I have it right here!" Scar fiddled around in his inventory for a moment before producing a red metal tin. "For you! For- for Valentine's Day."

A dread set into Mumbo's stomach. Oh. Oh no- This wasn't what he thought it was, was it?

He fumbled through a thank you, accepting the container to hold nervously in his hands. He hoped, prayed even, that this was just a friendly gesture, a gift from a pal! Buddies, mates, chums, other words for friends! A feeling in the back of his mind said otherwise, though.

His suspicions were confirmed as he removed the lid, revealing the very romantic-meaning question. Mumbo's heart sank. He was going to have to let Scar down, wasn't he?

"Oh- um..." The words jumbled in Mumbo's brain, leaving him opening and closing his mouth like a fish. "Oh gosh, how do I say this?"

It was then that he made the mistake of looking at Scar again. The man already appeared defeated, xer pointed ears drooping downward, and xer eyes fighting to push back the hurt of rejection. "No, no, I get it, I do!" Scar chuckled, though it sounded wrong with its usual mirth missing.

"No, no, mate, I mean- I mean that I just... don't feel that way about people," Mumbo admitted, which was strange to say out loud. Sure he knew that for a fact, but he'd never allowed himself to truly think it. "It's not you, mate, I promise."

"No, no- it's never me ,” Scar rambled, and Mumbo could smell the start of a spiral from a mile away. “It’s just the fact that I'm..too loud a-and chaotic and-” Xe stopped abruptly, pressing his palms into xyr eyes. “You know what, I shouldn't be doing this to ya, Mumbo, you didn't ask to see my pity party-” He let out another soulless laugh, twisting Mumbo’s gut with guilt. “Uh, enjoy the cookies!" And with that, Scar turned on nys heel, already pulling out a rocket to speed away.

Thankfully, Mumbo was able to catch him by the elbow before he could fly off. "No!” He shouted, startling both Scar and himself. He made sure to lower his volume before continuing. “Scar, wait, it's genuinely not you- People- er, romance- it's… It's not exactly my cup of tea, so to speak,” Mumbo trailed off. 

"...Really?" Scar’s voice came out quiet, a relieved sort of curiosity peaking through.

Mumbo shrugged. "Never has, t'be quite honest with you. I'm sorry, for leading you on, i-if I have- that wasn’t my intention.”

"Don't be!" Scar defended fiercely, grabbing both of Mumbo’s hands in aeir own, and Mumbo definitely didn’t feel a flush spreading across his cheeks. "You don't have to apologise for your feelings or for who you are, that’s not in your control."

“You sure, mate?” This was going a bit too well, wasn’t there supposed to be some sort of big conflict they’d have to work on? 

“Of course,” Scar seemed adamant in that fact, and Mumbo was inclined to believe him. 

“What now?” He squeaked out, still very aware of their hands being intertwined. 

Scar hummed to xyemself for a moment. “I think… I think I'm going to need a bit to think on it,” xe admitted. “But, when I’m done, I’ll let you know where I want to go from here. Does- does that sound good?”

Mumbo could stop the chuckle from rising in his chest. “Sounds great.”

[mysteriespines]

Eyes glancing down at her feet to see the said shoes in question, Dipper wants to call out what feels like an obvious excuse rather than a valid reasoning but for once holds his tongue. If only because he has no real clue whatsoever if those really are new shoes or a pair she might have owned for years. Plus, it wasn’t like he understood how long it would have even taken to break a pair in for preparation for a night like this. So instead he simply hums and nods once, not saying a word yet still making his disbelief obvious, or at least, clear enough that someone like Pacifica would pick up on it right away.

“A busy man,” he echoes back, eyebrows raising as he makes a dramatic move of looking around as much of the ballroom as he can see from where they stood by the bar. “So busy indeed that it doesn’t… even seem like he’s here… Weird.” He shakes his head and makes a small tusking noise as he turns his attention back to the blonde. It would be easy to just leave it at that, to simply comment on the lack of presence from the supposed love of her life, but Dipper’s never been one to easily back down. Especially not from an opportunity to bother or annoy one Pacifica Northwest. And that was even more true now than ever, with his gut screaming at him that something was wrong with this entire engagement. Of course, he told himself that it was just his nosy nature at work, nothing more. He certainly wasn’t worried or bothered, not by any means. “And you know, I’ve never been engaged - but I would think, you know, if I were… I’d want more than just one dance with my fiance. And I really wouldn’t be leaving her alone all night. Unless, of course… I didn’t actually want to be engaged to her. Then, I suppose it’d make sense, wouldn’t it? Him being literally anywhere else but next to you?” It was pushing, maybe harder than he should be - but the alcohol in his system kept him from caring or taking any of it back, instead his eyes twinkled as he waited for whatever response she might come up with. He was almost certain it would just be a deflection, an attempt to turn the conversation back on him and his own lacking love life instead.

The immediate eyeroll already taking its place in the conversation laid the groundwork for however much longer Pacifica could handle talking to Dipper. It's not like she could back out now, she was the one to approach him and she was hoping that was the thing that would help her win the inevitable argument that would soon reveal itself. She actually thought his snide comment about Eric was funny but she wasn't going to let him have any satisfaction in knowing that she was unhappy in her engagement. Instead, she focused on her anger and the way his observant ways were correct, that she wasn't having as much fun as as she really wanted to. The only thing that seemed to bring her joy at parties anymore was knowing she would be accompanied by Maximus but even that brought on a host of complications that ultimately left alone and without many others to turn to that could take her mind away from stress like any sane person would do at a party. Maybe that's what had her approaching Dipper in the first place. Here was someone that knew her, and as much as Paz hated it, there was a strange dependence on knowing exactly where the interaction would go: He would annoy her and she'd annoy him right back.

"I've danced, okay? Maybe not as wild as you but I was on the dance floor a couple of times. My feet just hurt now because I didn't have much time to break in these shoes with how much wedding planning I've been doing." It was all a complete lie that he could possibly see through but Pacifica was set in believing the reality she should have been in. She took a quick sip from her drink to help calm her nerves before she having to make up more excuses. "And, Eric is a busy man, he doesn't have time to whip up extremely intricate dance routines. He did promise me the last dance of the night so if you're that eager to see us dance then you'll just have to wait."

[strangerwheelerthings]

Just saw an ask about Nancy’s lack of social behaviors that inspired some thoughts. I didn't want to intrude on them with my disagreements. They make a couple of reasonable points, but I believe they're missing some aspects of Nancy’s personality to interpret them. Obviously, some of this comes down to personal interpretation, but this is my understanding of Nancy Wheeler.

Addressing their points: Canonically, Nancy isn't a social person. She didn't reach out to Robin at all in the year after Starcourt Mall. The only people we see her regularly hanging out with, after Barb's death, is whoever her current boyfriend is. These are all facts. I personally feel her questioning Robin's presence in season 3 was less a 'I have absolutely zero idea who you are' reaction, and more of a 'why the heck is this new person helping us fight a monster and making comments, since when?' type reaction. This is up for interpretation though, so I won't argue that point.

However, Nancy’s lack of social life is not an indicator of a lack of desire for friendship. Nancy struggles with opening up to people. She finds emotional vulnerability and genuine connection both difficult and terrifying. We see this aversion present itself in her relationship with Mike, as well as signs of it presenting in her dysfunctional family. 

Barb was her only real friend in the beginning of the show. We see her change herself, to try to conform to Steve's group, but even then she is very distant from everyone but Steve and Barb. She relied on previous bonds in a social situation, and made no attempts to create new ones. Granted, Tommy and Carol weren’t people she cared to be friends with. However, this seems to be a pattern of behavior, as indicated by her social situations throughout the show. Another example is the party in season two, when she got drunk and only actually talked to Steve.

Nancy stays inside a social comfort zone. She is not outgoing without a purpose. She’s good at listening, but she doesn’t talk to people without an external reason, such as a story. What some people may forget, is that once Nancy is comfortable with someone, many of those barriers go away. She actually stays quite close to people she likes and feels comfortable with, especially in a distressing situation. She made Barb come to the party for this exact reason. 

The Upside Down dangers created the perfect situations to create deep bonds with Steve and Jonathan. They were forced into situations that lowered guards and allowed them to be genuine with each other. There’s a reason she ended up dating both of them, and essentially relying on them for connection over the years. It wasn’t just trauma bonding, but also that barrier free connection. 

Jonathan was the one to distance himself from Nancy in between season one and two. We see Nancy still reaching out at the beginning of season two. He had been placed in the comfortable zone, and as such, she was quite social with him, despite not dating yet. She ends up distanced from Steve because ex status took him out of that zone, alongside lack of communication in their relationship and the inability to be emotionally vulnerable with him. 

Then we go into post-season three territory. Nancy and Robin don’t talk after Starcourt. Why would they? The two saw each other in a dangerous situation, but they never actually connected. There was no bond, and I highly doubt that Robin took the initiative to attempt to develop one afterwards. Steve started dating Nancy because he put persistent effort into showing his interest. She’s not exactly the type to reach out first. Once within the trust and comfort zone, then yeah, she will initiate contact with a person, but she struggles before then. 

As for people outside of the Hawkins Gang, alongside her natural social aversion, there’s also the barrier of being unable to be completely honest with them. This is a major thing for Nancy, who likely values genuine friendships, and has little respect for superficial ones. This, alongside the trauma surrounding Barb, hinders her quite a lot.

After Jonathan moves away, Nancy is left relatively alone. She has working relationships with people in the newspaper, but not much beyond that. Perhaps there was the possibility of a friendship developing over time with Fred, but that was cut short. Even then, once again, the person she’s closest to got there because they were placed in a situation where she had an external reason to initiate contact.

Does that mean she doesn’t really care to make any more friends aside from Jonathan? Turn now to the famous line: "Does that make us friends? As in, officially?"  

Look at that smile, and try to tell me that she isn't ecstatic to have Robin confirm their new relationship.

This girl desperately wants a friend. She just doesn’t know how to make one. Looking just at that scene, Nancy is visibly nervous. She doesn’t say anything until Robin drops the friend-word, and then she feels the need to confirm it with her. She wanted it so badly, and was so relieved when Robin revealed that she felt the same way. This wasn’t a little thing to her.

How do they even get to that point in season four? First, Robin puts herself in Nancy’s orbit, despite Nancy’s discomfort. People have a tendency to discount her ideas and not listen to her. She was an unknown variable in a stressful situation. However, the situation allowed them to really talk and the start of a connection was created. Robin had listened to her, and had validated her theory. 

Nancy was starting to like her.

What did she do next? Take advantage of the situation they were in, to sneakily attempt to grow closer. It wasn’t just the fact that Robin was competent and Nancy respected her after the library, but because she wanted to spend time with her. There were plenty of options within the group of competent people, yet Nancy repeatedly singled Robin out. Nancy was trying to become friends.

I say take advantage of it though, because it is a lot less stressful to initiate conversations with someone if you have an excuse. ('They were in a dangerous situation, it wasn't about wanting to be her friend, whaaatt.' Lies.) Suddenly a lot of the normal social pressure and anxiety around initiating contact is decreased. And look at what Nancy does in that scenario, she immediately reaches out. 

Give her a reason, or a purpose, and she can go up and talk to anyone about anything. Take that away, and she gets too stressed or anxious to be the first. 

Anyway, to sum up, Nancy sticks to people she’s comfortable with. Robin, and maybe Steve depending on how the romance is handled, have managed to maneuver themselves into her comfort zone by the end of season four. She has confirmed friendship with Robin, and as previously established, once Nancy likes you, she is social. She will reach out to you, and spend time with you. 

Outside of danger, she likely takes a while to trust people, so anyone who wants to join in the hangouts would need to be willing to put in some effort and be patient with her, but it isn't impossible. She wouldn’t avoid them, just stick close to comfort people.

She's not completely anti-social. Nancy is an introvert who struggles to trust, but once you have that trust, she is a reliable friend.

[symphonicsoul]

.·:¨༺ ✩★✩ ༻¨:·. The prince is sighing as she speaks, while the Historian makes a face under his mask. Jade eyes are staring at her hands folded on the table for a moment before they rise again. It sounds more like there are a whole slew of things she wants him to tell her but doesn't know how to ask them of him, so presenting it more as an option makes it less like she's prying.

He doesn't know how to approach the situation when her words of telling him that 'he couldn't keep things from her' and 'she would find out' are rolling around in his mind. He decides it's probably best to keep those thoughts to himself knowing full well, the man of orange next to him would about lose his mind if he knew that his Liege was spoken to in such a way.

He'll start with the obvious, and even though he's told his binds of this fact, he's sure it's still a bit hard for them to digest.

"Miss Lisa, firstly when it comes to my age, I do look like a child. This is the way I looked when Misterica fell. I look this way because of my immortality. I haven't aged a day since Misterica was destroyed by Chaos."

He can feel his bind tense as he speaks about it and he watches as his head drops and his shoulders droop down towards the floor while the older man sighs. A hand is reaching under the table to rest on the elder's knee as if to give him some form of comfort. He knows his binds are all learning this information at varying speeds but none of it is quick and they haven't had the time to process it that he has - that he and Aqua have if he knows Herba well enough and he knows he does.

"I can't age. You've seen my powers in full effect whether you realized it or not. That wasn't just an injury that day, Miss Lisa. That was exactly what it looked like. I do look like a child, but I assure you I am not one. I would appreciate it if you refrained from calling me 'boy', in the future."

He's sighing again as he continues to hold the elder's hand beneath the table while his right remains visible on it's surface. She says she wants to be friends but he doesn't know to begin doing so when he has always been so guarded around her. She's referred to him as 'Makenshi' in the past until recent days when the twins decided to change his name to 'Kumo' - and honestly it was a much better choice than otherwise.

And now she wants his... name. He doesn't very much feel like giving it to her. Not with her words from their previous conversation still floating around in his mind. Somehow, he feels like she's still under the false impression that his time in Gaudium was of his own volition and not the complete opposite of such. Somehow, he feels like his words for all those years ago still have not reached her.

"As for my name, Kumo, is fine. Misterican names are sacred and gifts to us from our parents and if I am to be perfectly honest, Miss Lisa - after your attitude in our previous conversation - I am not very much in the mood to give it to you. One does not get my name simply because they demand information about me. You're not doing it now, but you did it then and I don't really know which face to believe. So, Kumo, is fine for now, and it will be fine until I decide otherwise. "

He pauses as he sighs.

"The only reason Black Wind knows my name is because he speaks my tongue, so do not think I am placing him any better than anyone else in that regard. He did not earn my name either, but even he knows better than to speak it aloud."

He's sighing again as his hand tightens around the one in his grip and mint green eyes focus in on him while their owner also sighs deeply.

"We came to apologize for own our actions, we're not here to get information from you unless you're willing to give it. I'm starting to understand why his highness is struggling to find where he stands with you. The more I learn of humans, the more I find how selfish they are. You understand that your planet and your people are not all that exists, don't you?"

Lisa listens to both carefully, observing as the two get situated and explain why they came back to speak to her.

"I appreciate your apology, both of you, but I definitely have some work to do myself," she said softly, with a small smile on her face.

"As for your position, I don't think you need to apologize for not telling me, and I don't think it inherently makes things awkward... You have nothing to make up for just because I wasn't aware," she replied.

"That being said, I'm glad I know now... I really do want to be your friend, and it's hard to do that if we don't talk to each other, but you certainly aren't obligated to do anything or tell me anything. I wouldn't ask that of you, it wouldn't be fair to."

She takes a deep breath, glancing down at her hands as she fidgets, before shifting slightly in her seat before continuing.

"I've clearly made assumptions, and that seems to have only led to problems, which I'm sorry for, and I'll make sure I won't do so in the future, or at the very least I will try not to..," she turned her gaze to Valo, "When we spoke earlier, you were upset I used the name 'Kumo,' and that I translated this name for him," she turns back to Kumo, like she was curious about what his answer to her coming question would be, "Do you not like the name 'Kumo'? If you want me to refer to you in another way, I'm more than happy to," she explained.

She was honestly a bit embarrassed to have not asked before. It felt a bit ridiculous now that she was actually asking him.

"I know you never complained about it or anything, but looking back I still should've asked. I also called you a 'boy,' which he told me was incorrect, very incorrect actually, now that I think about it, it was a little ridiculous to assume your lifespan is similar to ours, so I shouldn't have assumed your age," she said, smiling a bit.

She thought for a moment, leaning forward in her seat and resting her clasped hands on the table they were sat at. "I guess I should just ask you if there's anything you want me to know, or if there is anything you want me to tell you?" Maybe they could just try this again, learn about each other without any assumptions getting in the way this time...