#but she wouldn’t EXPLAIN to me what was going on

[awordsmith]

tangled up 𝜗𝜚 s.r

۶ৎ in which you and Spencer join forces to babysit both Jack and Henry.

who? spencer x bau!reader  when? s6 category: novella content warnings: not proofed, contains nothing but pure fluff, reader and spencer get mistaken as Jack and Henry's parents... reid with warmth !!  word count: 4.9k a/n: first novella fic whaaaa....i've been wanting to write this one for a while, but i knew it wouldn't be that long, so this is perfect for my first novella fic!!; enjoy!

The morning was cold and frosty, and the only thing able to mend it: a large, hot latte. Hotch approached your desk as you set your things down. He leaned over and whispered conspicuously, “Are you sure you can come tonight?”

You rolled your eyes and whispered back, just as secretive, and perhaps some more to show how dramatic he was being, “Yes, Hotch,” you saluted him, “Jack will be in good hands.”

A gruff sound came from his throat–as if signifying his disbelief, “If you say so, do you remember what time?”

“Hotch?”

He looked around, glancing back at you with pressed lips. “Yeah?”

“I got this,” you pushed his hand–gripping your desk–off.

“Right,” he nodded, “no I know.”

You raised a brow and crossed your arms, “so why are you stalling? Is this about your date? Because if you don’t want to go–”

“No,” he dusted his suit off, “I’m–I’m walking away.”

“Uh-huh,” you biot back a smile, feeling Spencer slide up next to you, “and what was that all about?” He kept his inquisitive gaze on your boss.

“Hotch had a date,” you stated, turning to look at him, “I’m babysitting Jack.”

He raised his eyebrows and nodded–but when Penelope called you to the roundtable room and you began to walk away with her, you could hear him mutter, “Why didn’t he ask me?”

JJ rushed in, she apologized for being late as she took her seat. The team watched her; she was flushed, but her face showed clear urgency. She rolled her eyes, “Please do not question me today, I already have enough explaining to do.”

It was silent, but then you just couldn’t help yourself, “...JJ?” She looked at you with a slight warning, but you still asked, “What happened?”

The air in the room evaporated as JJ sucked in a breath, then deflated against her chair, throwing her head back, “Henry’s babysitter quit this morning.” You kept quiet, waiting for her to elaborate. “Will and I were going to go out tonight, we’ve been planning this for weeks now.” she huffs, running a hand through her hair.

Spencer caught your eyes, and though you shook your head, knowing it’d be a bad idea, he still said, “Well, hey, you know I could watch him for you–if you still wanted to go.”

JJ raised a brow and began to shake her head slowly, “I don’t know, Spence–”

“I wouldn’t be alone,” you noted Hotch raising an eyebrow as Spencer motioned toward you, “— is watching Jack, we could babysit them together.”

JJ glanced at you, then at Hotch–hopeful, “Would you both be okay with that?”

Hotch eyes Spencer’s grin for a moment, “Fine, but — has to keep an eye on Reid too.”

“Uh–what?” Spencer threw his arms up, “I’m a great babysitter–are you laughing?” He glared slightly at Morgan.

“Sure you are,” you reached over and patted the top of his hand, you held his gaze for a split second–the both of you trying to hold in your laughter.

You could hear giggling inside. Jack clung to Hotch, he was eight, and yet he still adored his father. The night was young, but starting to grow darker. Today, you had only been called to air a case, so you worked from the office, which you didn’t have the pleasure of doing most days, making it pretty unique.

“Oh, hey guys,” Spencer called, walking up behind you. You frowned, noting his relaxed attire.

“And I didn’t think you owned anything but sweater vests.”

He sighed, “Oh–you just had to comment.”

“That I did,” you nodded, “that I did.”

The front door opened right as Hotch checked his wristwatch, “you guys made it!”

“Would you believe it? Hotch hasn’t canceled yet.”

Your boss glared at you, but your remark earned chuckles from the others, “Yep, and I’ll be late if I don’t leave now.”

JJ stepped out of the house and moved aside, “come on in.” Henry popped his little head out from behind Will and motioned for Jack to follow.

Hotch leaned to the side, eyes only leaving Jack once the boys disappeared behind a corner. “Okay,” JJ approached you, hands on your shoulders, “I am trusting you.”

“Hey–uhm Hi!” Spencer waved, sticking his head over your shoulder, “I’m here too.”

“Yes, that’s why I’m telling her to be careful.”

After a bit of teasing Spencer, Hotch, Will, and JJ left in their cars. “Come, on, it’s freezing out here,” you stuffed your hands into the pockets of your zip-up.

“Let the night begin…”

Spencer stayed, feet glued to the floor for a moment as he watched you wander into the house. He couldn’t help the small smile that grazed his face; he covered it with a hand, closing the door behind him.

Inside you were asking the boys what they wanted to do. Hotch had picked you up from your apartment and you, him, and Jack drove over together–so when Henry suggested the movie theatre, you could only glance at Spencer, wondering if he’d be willing to drive.

He huffed, rolled his eyes, and fell back on the couch in the living room. “We can see what movies are playing, I guess.”

You huffed a laugh and gripped the couch with both hands as you learned over it, watching Jack and Hnery jump on top of Spencer.

“Okay, okay.” He pushed Henry’s foot out of his face and shot you a look when he heard you cover up a snort with a cough.

Upon scrolling through the nearest movie theatre, you found the newest Spider-Man movie was playing, but you had already missed the 7 o’clock one and the next showing was at 8:30. You, Spencer, and the boys agreed to that time, which left you about an hour before you had to leave. Spencer offered to pay and though you had debated with him about going half–he insisted.

You agreed, but only if he let you pay for the snacks. Spencer wasn’t a boyfriend and he wasn’t one of the girls, so it felt weird letting him pay for everything. He was older than you yes, but only by a couple of years, and though you had to remind him of that several times, he never once failed to pull that card over on you.

“What’s that?” Spencer motioned toward the bag you had brought–that you were now unloading on the kitchen counter.

“Ingredients,” you shrugged, “it isn’t real babysitting if you don’t bake something.”

“You bake?” He sat up, throwing something on the television to distract the boys before he made his way toward you.

You brushed it off, “Somewhat.”

“Okay,” he nodded, rounding the counter and meeting your hip with his, “so what are we baking tonight?”

“We?” You raised a brow. He nodded, lips forming a thin line to suppress a grin. “Oh, no,” you huffed a laugh, “we are not–do you even know kitchen etiquette?”

His face scrunched up, “I’m a quick learner.”

“Sarcastic Spencer never fails to amuse me.”

“Mmm,” he nodded, “what’s first?”

You shook your head, a grin escaping you. You snatched the butter he had picked up and smacked him on the shoulder as you went to go find a bow for it, “Wash your hands.” 

“Something smells good.” Jack rounded the counter.

“That would be the cookies.” You spun around and bent to your knees, pulling the oven open. 

“When’s the movie?” Henry came waddling in, Spencer not too far behind.

You glanced at him, expecting him to answer for the both of you. You smiled to yourself, pulling off the oven mitts when he said, “uh…we have about five more minutes before we should leave.”

You nodded and began searching for a container to put the cookies in, “boys, do you wanna go outside and help Uncle Spencer start the car?”

“Awesome!” Henry shouted, running off to find his coat.

“Can we really start the car?” Jack looked between you and Spencer.

“Of course,” you smiled, nodding.

“Cool,” he too ran off.

“If either of them wrecks my car, I’m holding you responsible.” He jabbed a warning finger in your direction.

You scoffed, wiping your hands on a rag, “right. Spencer, you drive a van.”

“An SUV,” he corrected.

“Yeah, well, you don’t seem the type to care about messing things up.”

He held a hand to his chest, mock hurt flashing across his face, “–and what is that supposed to mean.”

You shrugged, but a cheeky smile pulled your lips upward.

“I’ll see you in the car,” he wandered off in search of the boys. You grabbed three cookies and set them aside on a napkin.

When you walked toward the door, you found Spencer and the boys already secure in the car. You locked the door and made your way down the drive.

“I have something delicious,” you handed each boy a cookie, promising to help Spencer clean out his car if it turned out they made a mess.

You took the third cookie and bit into it. Spencer watched you and he pulled off, turning onto the street. He hit a red light when you were halfway done with it, “were you not going to offer to share?”

Your eyebrows shot up momentarily, “you like sweets?”

“Half you met me?” he shot back.

You huffed, yanking his hand from the steering wheel and toward you, placing the cookie into his hand. The light turned green, so he steered with one arm and used his other to eat the cookie. It was a darling sight, truly. You giggled when a few crumbs fell onto the floor.

“I blame you,” he muttered, his mouth full of cookies as he made his proclamation.

Spencer had bought the tickets online, so as you parked, you made a game plan with the boys. Spencer and Henry would go to the bathroom because he forgot to say something back at the house and you and Jack would stand in line. There were a few games around–and of course, the boys asked to play when they saw them–but you only had ten minutes till the movie began, so you promised when the movie was over, you’d stay a bit longer to play.

There were only three lines open and from what you could tell, pretty long. Jack stuffed his hands into his tiny jacket pockets–he looked comfortable. “Do you know what you want to get?”

He pressed his lips together and notably looked around at the freezers and small box-like shelves separating the lines. They were only about two inches higher than him, maybe three or four higher than Henry.

“I’ve never been here.” You frowned. Jack had never been to a movie theatre or he had never been to this theatre? 

“What do you mean?” You stepped forward as the line moved up. A father and his daughter–probably around fourteen–stepped behind you. You took notice, but only because you’ve programmed your brain, they weren’t really important.

Jack shrugged, “What kind of snacks do they have.” You understood Jack didn’t want to speak more on the subject and because you cherished him, you dropped it–but you made a mental note to speak with Hotch about it later.

“Well, I think they have…gummy bears and–oh look–they have cornetto–personally I prefer the cup version–but that’s just me.” Jack laughed and stood on his tippy toes, trying to get a better look at the ice cream flavors.

You caught Spencer walking toward you, Henry skipping a few feet in front of him. He caught your wave and nodded toward Jack, who now stepped to the side of the counter–looking through the glass. “How much time do we have?”

Spencer checked his watch once more, his casual attire contrasting. He wore his glasses–which you absolutely adored–a pair of blue jeans substituted his normal khakis, and he wore a black hoodie with red writing on the back. He wore tenashoes instead of his work shoes and his silly socks were hidden beneath the fabric of his jeans. It made you frown slightly: you couldn’t tease him about it.

“Do you want anything?” You asked as the boys began listing off candy to the cashier.

“No, I’m good.” He shook his head, stuffing his hands into the singular pocket of his hoodie.

“Wanna share a bowl of popcorn?” You pleaded and eventually, he gave in.

You asked for two smaller bowls so you could split the large bowl between you, Spencer, and the boys. Spencer physically winced when you swiped your card–you saw it happen. It sent a flutter through you and your face reddened as much as it could. You covered it up with a laugh, hoping Spencer didn’t find it weird, though the look he threw you said otherwise.

You found your seats, the boys settled in the middle of the two of you. You separated the popcorn between the boys, but then realized it’d be an issue sharing with Spencer if he was all the way on the other side, so instead, you gave him one of the smaller bowls, filled his and Hnery’s, and shared the big bowl with Jack.

You made it in time for the credits which you hated, but Spencer loved. It put a goofy smile on his face as he explained every ad,s aying how they were trying to tug at your heartstrings or logical side. “But we’re too smart, aren’t we?” He met your gaze.

The boys turned toward you, where you now adorned a serious nod, “oh, yeah, we’re way too smart to fall fo that, right boys?” 

“Yep!” they nodded triumphantly. 

“And why is that?” Spencer rounded the question back to him.

“Because we’re profilers,” Jack asked hesitantly.

“Exactly,” you jabbed a finger at him, messing with his hair a little. He laughed and leaned away, pushing your hand toward the popcorn bowl.

Spencer watched you–but not just your person. He wanted your actions, your facial expression, the way you interacted and spoke to Jack, the way you joked with Henry, the way you took every opportunity you could to tease him about absolutely anything. 

He felt his heart tense and then fall to his stomach once he realized what was occurring. Was he falling in love? Was this what that feeling was? Was this how falling in love happened? You noticed minuscule, insignificant things about a person like the way they laughed? Or the way smiled? You analyzed them so thoroughly that you could tell what they would say before they said it. Or know the action they’re about to take before they make it?

He couldn’t tell. Spencer had never been in love before. He had never fallen in love. But was that what this was? He didn’t have a definitive answer, he just knew he wanted to be closer. To you. To you in every way. He wanted you to want to be close to him and he wondered if that was love.

Because if it was, wouldn’t that mean he’d already fallen? But it didn’t feel right.  It felt…like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. Like he had been searching for an answer he knew was somewhere in his brain, but hadn’t figured it out until just now.

The movie played and he tried his best to watch it–he grasped the general concept, but he was more focused on, well, you.

Did he love you? Could he say that with genuine confidence? He wouldn’t know until he tried it out, but he couldn’t. Because what if he didn’t? What if what he felt for you was simply pure friendship–he’d be making a crucial mistake, one) if you didn’t like him you’d be weirded out and if you did he chanced hurting you, two) you worked together, that was an issue in and of itself.

He jumped when you stood, watching as you stretched. “What?” You raised a brow, a tired smile forming you mouth.

He found himself smiling back, his stomach flipping, “nothing. Just…tired.”

“Ugh,” you rolled your eyes, yawning, “me too. We should head back now, it’s pretty late. We need to take them baths.”

“Yeah,” Spencer glanced at Jack, who was now standing, and Henry, who was fast asleep in his seat.

Spencer tried waking him slightly, but he wasn’t budging, “just carry him,” you suggested.

Deciding it was the only option, Spencer gripped Henry’s armpits and heaved him upward as gently as he could. You watched him as he laid Hnery’s head on his shoulder, the boy snuggling into the crook of his neck, hugging your coworker tightly. 

“Awww,” you sounded like Penelope but you didn’t care, this was too cute a moment not to capture. Whipping out your phone, you ignored Spencer’s pleas and snapped multiple photos from every angle.

Heading to the lobby of the theatre, you nudged Jack, “I’m guessing you don’t want to play some of the games anymore?”

Jack shook his head and rubbed his eyes, “no. m’just tired.”

You nodded, pulling him into your side as you walked, “Me too, buddy, me too.”

You passed an elderly couple on the way out, Henry slightly waking up when the cold air hit his face. “Are we home?” He asked.

The elderly couple snickered and said, “You’re a cute family.”

You opened your mouth to correct the woman, but her husband added, “You look just like we did, don’t they?” before you could. He turned to his wife, made clear by the matching rings.

“Oh, they do,” then she bent over and asked Jack, “What movie did your mommy and daddy take you to see.”

Instead of correcting the couple, Jack glanced at you, then Spencer, and grinned–though it was sleepy– “Spider-Man 2.”

“Ah, I’m afraid I haven’t seen that one, is it good?”

“Really good,” Henry answered from Spencer’s arms.

They laughed again, then apologized for keeping you and made their way inside.

You and Spencer said nothing as you made your way to the car. Jack and Henry were silent as well. You wondered just what was going through Jack’s head. Maybe he was too tired to understand or care about the women’s words. Yeah, that must have been it.

You decided you would ignore it just as you would ignore the flutter that continuously courced through you the entirety of the night.

With much prodding, you were able to get Henry into the bath. Jack didn’t take much convincing, but he assured you he could do it himself, which you shouldn’t have believed because he ended up getting shampoo into his eyes.

Spencer finished helping him, though it was hard because Jack insisted on showering. Eventually, the two boys were tucked into Henry’s twin-sized bed, and you and Spencer had a little free time before the others arrived.

You grabbed the bowl of cookies that you’d tucked on the counter near the fridge before you’d left. You meant to eat them at the kitchen counter, but Spencer wanted you to watch some movie he had put on. You would blame and hold him responsible for any crumbs that didn’t land in the bowl.

His chuckle was low and light, just like every other time you found yourself making him laugh. It sent a flutter through your chest and you had to turn away to keep from letting him know just how flustered that one sound could make you.

You shivered, you typically brought a sweater with you everywhere just in case, but you were going to JJ’s house, and you knew she’d let you borrow a few blankets. 

“Where are you going?” Spencer caught your wrist as you stood. Your heart jolted and you couldn’t help but stare at it. You blinked a few times before he let go. He sucked in a breath as if you’d stung him. You weren’t sure what he meant by that or if he meant anything at all by it. Spencer was normally an awkward person, but this didn’t feel like something he’d be awkward about, in fact, Spencer would never be put in this situation simply because Spencer hated physical contact.

Maybe that’s why he had such a reaction. You brushed it off, letting a shy smile replace the longing frown, “Just the hall closet to find a blanket…want one?”

Spencer shook his head and wanting to escape the atmosphere, you bottled toward the hall. You retrieved the first blanket on top. It was white with little blue bunnies. Cute. You thought, it must be Henry’s. 

“I’m back,” you hopped on the couch, keeping a cushion between the two of you, for fear of making him uncomfortable.

He declined your offer of a cookie and opted to lean back. It might have just been your imagination, but you were sure Spencer kept sneaking glances at you. You thought he must be bored, he’d put on a '90s romcom. Though you loved the, you were surprised when Spencer put it on. But then maybe he put it on for you and that’s why he kept glancing at you.

You huffed under a cookie, that’s so like him. 

Halfway through the movie, you’d discarded the bowl of cookies with four left and began to feel the lights dim. Or maybe it was just you. You took a moment and laid your head back but it was uncomfortable. As you shifted on the couch, a yawn escaped you. 

Spencer caught it, attention now fully focused on you, he smiled at your dreary state. He moved one leg under him and without really thinking much about it–if it’d make you uneasy or not–he took you by the shoulders and lowered your head into his lap. You noticed, but barely. He pulled the blanket over you as your arms wrapped around his thigh. Your head snuggled into him and when a satisfactory hmm released itself from your throat, he snorted a little. 

He loved you, or at least he thought he did. Spencer had never loved anyone. Well, he loved his mom, but he knew he was programmed that way. He loved quantum physics and math and chemistry and psychology, but those were very broad terms, and still not a being. He liked cats, but he couldn’t love a cat–well, he could–but that was a different discussion.

You, on the other hand, he always wanted to be around. You, on the other hand, he always wanted to talk to. You, he fell asleep thinking about; you, he dreamt about; you, he woke up to.

You were always on his mind, there was no way around it. In every conversation–though he rarely voiced it–he could always draw back to you. Penelope bought a new pink fluffy pen? You loved pens. Dereck couldn’t sleep at night because of his neighbor. You could sleep anywhere–it was a skill. Spencer couldn’t sleep at all, really, and when he did–well, he’d already know what he’d dream about.

He couldn’t escape you–but well, he didn’t want to.

The biggest evidence of his feelings for you? He hated–absolutely loathed–the thought of you talking to/dating/marrying anywhere else. He made a face, the thought disgusted him;; it made him sick.

The front door unlocking jolted him out of his thoughts… how long had he sat there watching you? Going back and forth in is mind? His mind began wondering and the lights began to fade. His shoulder drooped and he began pushing you backward, fixing you until you were both comfortable. 

“Just for…a bit…” he yawned before the lights went out.

Spencer jerked when he heard the front door unlock. He was always keenly aware of his surroundings–it was a bad habit he picked up in his years at the BAU.

JJ and Will stepped through the door as quietly as they could, the credits were rolling. The movie must have just ended. 48 minutes?

“Hey–” JJ whispered walking toward him.

He rubbed his eyes and tried to sit up, but was weighed down, and upon looking–found you still sound asleep. He smiled, but when he realized JJ could see him, he fixed it to a plain expression.

Spencer held up a hand and pressed a finger to his lips, his eyes widened slightly in concern when he looked down at you. Which was ridiculous, he couldn’t stay in this position the entire night, much less on JJ’s couch. You both had work in the morning and you needed to get home. Right…but where was Hotch? How would you get home?

He was startled by your shifting movements. Upon glancing at you again, he found you stirring. JJ covered up a small laugh, and turned back to Will, shushing him as he stalked over.

“Hotch texted, he should be here soon,” JJ whispered.

Spencer nodded as you lifted your head, he raised his arms just enough for you to have free reign, if you pushed out of his hold, he’d have no choice but to let go.

But you didn’t, you pulled him closer and buried your face into where his thigh met his hip. “Five more minutes.”

JJ snatched her phone from her pocket and began snickering, “Penelope is going to love this.”

“Hey–come on, JJ–don’t–” Spencer’s protests went ignored as JJ clicked a few photos and slipped her phone back into the back pocket of her jeans.

A knock sounded on the door not a moment later, Will went to open it while JJ sat on the arm of the couch and smiled down at her two coworkers. “Do you think she can hear us?”

Spencer opened his mouth to say no, but raised a brow and glanced at you questioningly, he wasn’t sure you knew where you were, let alone could make sense of a complete sentence. “I’m gonna go with probably not.”

They chuckled to themselves. Hotch waved, before following Will down the hall toward Henry’s room. You yawned and rolled onto your back, stretching over Spencer. “Hi,” you blinked up, a slow smile turning up your lips.

He met your sleepy gaze with one of his own, “hi,” he answered.

Hotch came back out with a very asleep Jack, calling out your name, You sighed, forcing yourself upward. “Guess I better go.”

Once again, Spencer felt his subconscious take hold of his body as he held an arm across your stomach, “I could take you…I mean I wouldn’t mind, besides,” he nodded toward Hotch and Jack, “he should get Jack home.”

JJ watched in silent awe. It was one thing for Spencer to shake hands with someone let alone hug them, so when she stepped through her doors and found you snuggled up to him, her suspicion-radar was going off. Spencer definitely had a thing for you, or at the very least felt most comfortable with you. In her mind, you were his person, and that didn’t have to be romantic, it was just how it was.

Now, though, watching his eyes, there was no doubt in her mind. Spencer Reid was in love. She wondered what kind of catastrophic event occurred for this to happen.

“You sure?” You murmured, rubbing your eyes. You were halfway leaning against his chest, and halfway using his shoulder to stay steady.

“Yeah, of course.”

Hotch seemed to get the gist of the conversation, whispered a few goodbyes, and headed out the door.

“You made cookies,” JJa noted.

“Yep, there’s four left, but they’re probably all stale now.”

“Well, maybe you two can babysit again and make me fresh ones.”

“I helped, you know,” Spencer added.

“Yeah, ‘helped’ so much I almost had to buy you a new pan.” After a good laugh, you stood and stretched, catching Spencer’s yawn, “well, it’s getting pretty late, we should head out.”

“Alright then, drive safe.”

“I’m always a safe driver.”

“I know you are, Spence.” She pressed her lips together, glancing at you, wondering if you even felt a smidgen of what Spencer felt for you.

The car ride was smooth, Spencer had been over a few times, and with his memory, he knew the way by heart. “Thanks for doing this.” You grabbed his hand as he pulled into your complex.

Spencer jolted, his head jerked down: his focus on where your hands connected. “Oh–sorry, I forgot–”

You snatched your hand away, but Spencer was quick to grab it back. “No–no it’s…” he stared at you. He could lose his mind and still be able to put a name to your eyes. They were like none he’d ever seen–which is opinionated, of course, in his mind, you were all there ever was. “It’s fine.”

“Are you sure?” You frowned, “I…know how you hate people touching you.”

“Well, yeah,” he shrugged sheepishly, “but when it’s you it’s okay.”

Your heart leaped at that and maybe it was because you were half-awake and when you were half-wake you became even more delusional than you were daily. “So, you don’t mind if I touch you?”

“No, not at all.” He replied immediately as if he had been programmed to.

You couldn’t help the goofy grin that made its way onto your face, “good to know.”

You opened the car door and started exiting his vehicle. “Hey, —?”

“Yeah?” You yawned again, the sky a blue-black kind of color.

“What does that mean?”

“What does what mean?” You frowned.

“You know,” he tried motioning with his hands, which only made you snort.

“Nope,” you shook your head, “no idea.” You spun around, starting the path to your apartment, “see you tomorrow, Spencer.”

Spencer frowned, he knew he would think about this the rest of the night, if he could sleep he’d probably dream about it, and when he woke up, it would most definitely be the first thing on his mind.

a/n: lol i've been working on this forever (like a month) and i cried in my maths a few days ago because i couldn't understand it–#mathisnotforme

@darkmatilda @theylovemelody

[naokointhewind]

Nanami Kento was a smart man.

You knew that.

He was smarter than most, and it was a fact that you had accepted since that very first day you bumped into him at the physics research conference you had been dragged to.

You had listened to his every word as he presented his findings to the sea of other academics in that dilapidated hall at Oxford. Every single word. And yet, all you could ever recall about his symposium was how gorgeous he looked when he explained his process. ‘He must be one of Canova’s secret projects.’ you remember thinking to yourself while he was answering questions from the crowd.

Yes, he was breathtaking to look at. But his mind was even more captivating. It was what made you fall so hard for him, marry him, and bear his child.

In fact, you corrected yourself, he was more than just smart. He was a visionary. You confirmed that hypothesis the day he correctly predicted that your unborn baby girl would grow up to be a rather talkative individual.

He says she takes after you. You say he can foretell the future.

Not only was your little chatterbox never silent, but she was also never lacking an interesting fact about the world that she had only joined three years ago.

You blamed that on your husband’s habit of reading ridiculously smart books to her. Books that some academics wouldn’t even consider reaching for at the library.

Those two traits of hers had never been much of an issue, quite the opposite. It just meant the Nanami household was hardly ever quiet. You and Kento could never have guessed that she would weaponise those qualities against her father so early on.

“Papa, no. Form of matt-uh, Papa. Form of matt-uh.” Her braided pigtails swished back and forth as she shook her head at him derisively. As if the loud correction alone wasn’t enough.

Nanami was stood on the large hardwood stage of the conference hall. The silence was loud as he froze stunned at his daughter’s interruption of his speech. It was such a small mistake—so minor that every other scholar in that hall had completely missed it. But, of course, Babymin could never miss such a detail. The hall erupted with laughter, and Nanami himself had to hold back the oddly proud smile that was itching at his lips.

His little genius had her arms folded proudly, and she sat atop your lap like it was her throne.

“Right, of course. Pardon me. Form of matter. Not form of energy.” Kento restated, after the audience had settled back down. The smile he was fighting back had won once he saw you hiding your own awestruck smile behind your hand, only after whispering a reminder to the rosy-cheeked toddler to ‘not interrupt Papa again’.

Kento didn’t mind at all, though. He adored it, actually. She was proof that the two of you had created perfection, and how could her Papa be against her revealing that perfection?

Thereafter, whenever he knew his little Einstein was going to be watching his presentations, Kento deliberately slipped in a little error, hoping to hear his daughter’s sweet voice pierce through the hush of the room to correct him once again—which she always did without fail.

end note: good lord, this is so messy (ᵕ—ᴗ—) i feel like this may have made more sense if i had made it longer, but i’m working on two requests so i just wanted to quickly get this idea out before i forgot it

[salty-autistic-writer]

Written for @bucktommyfluffebruary, Day 8: Surprise

Buck watches intently, as Tommy eats a piece of lemon loaf. 

It’s been a few days since they made up - And made out. A lot. - and Buck told Tommy all about his baking frenzy. Which led to some curiosity. And to this. Tommy takes a good bite, chews, hums, then licks his finger and nods. “Hm.”

“What?” Buck asks, frowning, because that definitely wasn’t an “it’s so delicious” hum.

Tommy shrugs, glancing at Buck. “It’s … good. There’s just something missing.” “Missing,” Buck repeats, baffled. “But it’s lemon loaf! I have baked at least ten lemon loafs these past few weeks!”

Tommy smiles weakly. “I’m just being honest, Evan. That’s something we promised to each other right?”

Right. They did promise to be honest and not hold things back from each other this time. Buck still doesn’t like Tommy's reaction. And he can’t help but bite, “So you’re the lemon loaf expert now? Are you saying your lemon loaf would be better than mine?”

Tommy raises an amused brow. “Is that a challenge?”

“Uh. That depends, I guess. Are you … baking? Because I’ve never seen you do it,” Buck says. All he remembers is Tommy buying pastry from the bakery. Lots of pastry. But he has never seen Tommy do more than Christmas cookies with Jee.

Tommy shrugs. “Occasionally? It’s not my favourite hobby, but as a kid, I’ve been spending a lot of time at my grandmother’s house. She was my favourite person in the world. Made me feel loved and cherished no matter what. I often watched her in the kitchen. She was always talking while cooking and baking, telling me important things. Also, she had this journal, filled with all of her favourite recipes. I still have it. And lemon loaf was in it.”

That’s cute, Buck decides, his chest warming with the mental image of little Tommy, watching his grandmother bake.

“You know what? It should be a challenge,” he decides, grinning. “I want to know who can bake the better lemon loaf.”

Tommy frowns. “Are you sure? We just got back together …”

“Come on, it's not like baking lemon loaf is going to cause some kind of meltdown,” Buck says with a shrug. “We are adults. I can accept defeat if it’s fair.”

Tommy smiles. “Alright. And who is going to have the honour to be our jury?”

“Man. What did you do? I trusted you!” Chimney complains, arms crossed and brows furrowed as he glares up at Tommy. “You were supposed to make him stop, not encourage him to bake even more! We’ve all had enough cake to last a lifetime!”

“Well then you can try at least one last piece,” Tommy says dryly, shrugging.

“So which one is yours and which one is Buck’s?” Maddie asks, looking between the loaves that look pretty much identical, with a small smile.

“No, we are not telling you. You are supposed to be neutral!” Buck explains. “The name of the winner will be on the note attached to the plate. Just eat a piece of each and then tell us which one you prefer!”

“Alright,” Chimney sighs. “Let’s get it over with.”

Tommy and Buck watch as Chimney and Maddie eat some of both lemon loaves - then come back for seconds. Buck’s excitement grows as he watches them look at each other, still chewing, then at the loaves, brows furrowed in concentration.

“This one,” Maddie decides, pointing at the left loaf.

“Yeah. I agree. And … I actually have to say, I wouldn’t mind eating the whole thing,” Chimney says with a sigh, rubbing his stomach.

Okay. That’s ... a surprise. Buck already knows before Maddie turns to read the note since this loaf has a gleam his own doesn’t have. It’s Tommy’s. Tommy actually baked a better lemon loaf. 

“Yay,” Tommy says, smiling like he forgot that all of Buck’s lemon loaves only existed because of him. Buck feels a spark of irritation. “Where’s my lemon loaf award?”

Buck scoffs and crosses his arms over his chest. “Okay, so you can make a better lemon loaf. Congratulation. But what about scones, huh? It’s not that easy to bake them without making them crumble, you know?"

Chimney groans. Maddie giggles. Tommy raises a brow and asks innocently, “Whatever happened to you being able to accept defeat, babe?”

Buck glares at him. “Wait till we’re alone! I will show you defeat!"

"Oh? But don't you want to know my secret ingredient, Evan?"

"Trust me. You will tell me when I'm done with you."

“Aaaaand that’s it. Thank you. Bye. We are leaving. But not without this!” Chimney calls with a grimace, grabbing Tommy’s lemon loaf and Maddie’s arm, walking right out the door, with Maddie waving and laughing.

The great Buck and Tommy bake-off ends with Buck showing Tommy something he’s very good at: Making him beg.

(AO3 Link)

[stylestarkey]

the debutante’s dilemma (03)

pairing   rafe cameron X carrera!reader

summary   spending every summer in the outer banks with your cousin kiara carrera were always a given—a break from the chaos of new york city. but this year is different. your mom, now an organiser for the annual debutante ball, is determined to introduce you to society. and you have a dilemma: finding the perfect escort.

warnings   swearing.

navigation   masterlist 02 03 04

you didn’t understand why kie got so weird every time you mentioned the camerons. it wasn’t just irritation—it was something deeper, something she refused to say out loud. it was like she wanted to protect you from them but wouldn’t explain why.

but when sarah texted you to confirm your plans for tuesday, you said yes without hesitation. if kie wasn’t going to tell you what her deal was, you’d find out for yourself. besides, sarah had been nothing but kind to you—warm, funny, easy to talk to.

and then there was rafe.

when your mom told you he’d be your escort, you weren’t sure how to feel. your first impression of him at the golf course had been… interesting. he was arrogant, sure, but he wasn’t completely unbearable. and when you found out he and sarah were siblings, you figured, why not?

every summer in the outer banks had always been just you and kie. would it really hurt to make some new friends?

sarah steps down from the fitting platform, running her fingers through her hair as the tailor finishes pinning the last few adjustments. “your turn,” she says, plopping into a nearby chair.

you step up hesitantly, standing still as the woman wraps a measuring tape around your arms. sarah hums, flipping through a rack of dresses, eyes scanning the fabrics.

“so, hold on—topper is your boyfriend?” you ask, raising a brow.

“mm-hmm,” she hums, distracted. then she glances at you with a sly grin. 

“he told me you rejected rafe at the golf course. i died laughing.”

you scoff. “i didn’t reject him. i just… didn’t care about who he was.”

sarah smirks, shaking her head. “wait—don’t tell me. did he introduce himself like, hey, i’m rafe cameron. you should know who i am?”

your jaw drops. “that is exactly what he said!”

sarah throws her head back, laughing. “god, he’s such an idiot.” she leans against the wall, arms crossed, still grinning. “honestly, i have no idea how rose convinced him to do this. i mean, it’s rafe.” kie had said the same thing, like the thought of rafe agreeing was ridiculous. she shakes her head. “but then rose showed him a picture of you, and suddenly he was interested. said he already met you.”

you roll your eyes. “great. let’s just hope he can dance.”

after the fitting, the two of you step out into the humid morning air, walking toward a nearby brunch spot. the sun beats down, and the ocean breeze barely cuts through the heat. sarah walks beside you, her sunglasses perched on her head, twirling her phone between her fingers.

“so, you’re related to kie, right?” she asks casually. “judging by your last name.”

“yeah,” you nod. “our moms are sisters.”

“that’s cool. how is she?”

you hesitate for a second too long. “she’s… good. how do you know her?”

sarah hums, her fingers brushing through her hair. “we were best friends in middle school,” she says, her voice light, but there’s an edge to it. “then she moved to public.”

you don’t ask for more details.

but it doesn’t sit right with you—how weird kie got at the mention of sarah, and how normal sarah seemed about it.

one of them wasn’t telling the whole story.

your mom insisted on driving you to the country club, even though you told her you could take the bus. she was way too excited about this whole debutante thing, and honestly, you didn’t mind. it was nice seeing her like that.

the performing arts room was in a separate building connected to the main country club. as you stepped inside, the scent of polished wood and faint perfume filled the air. chandeliers hung from the ceiling, casting a warm glow, while a mirrored wall reflected the room’s high ceilings and wooden floors. a grand piano sat untouched in the corner, and a stage stretched along one side of the room. girls stood in groups, chatting with their partners, laughter filling the space.

you scanned the room, expecting to spot sarah, but instead, you caught sight of rafe. arms crossed, expression unreadable, walking straight toward you. he didn’t look particularly amused.

“pissed i beat you in mini golf?” you teased, tilting your head. a smirk tugged at the corner of your lips as you shifted your weight onto one foot, watching his reaction.

he scoffed, shaking his head. “oh please, you really want to play one-on-one right now? that was an imessage game, and you’re late.”

your eyes flicked to the clock on the wall. “it’s 3:05.”

“rose said rehearsals start at 3,” he shot back, his tone flat, like he’d been waiting to call you out on it.

you rolled your eyes. “whatever, rafe. your sister isn’t even here yet.”

“she’s coming with topper,” he muttered.

before you could respond, sarah’s voice cut through the conversation.

“we’re here!” she grinned, stepping into the room with topper right behind her. topper clapped a hand on rafe’s shoulder, shaking his head in exaggerated disbelief. “wow, you’re here early, bro. that’s new.”

rafe shoved his hand off with an eye roll, but the corner of his mouth twitched like he was holding back a laugh.

after a while, the dance coach gathered everyone. warm-ups came first, stretching and a few simple steps before getting everyone into position. the dance was formal and old-fashioned—like something straight out of a victorian ball. stiff posture, careful footwork, calculated movements. you expected dancing with rafe to be awkward, but to your surprise, he was actually good. confident, sure-footed. not what you expected at all.

surprisingly, you got along with the other girls too. their wealth and privilege were obvious in the way they talked—casual mentions of summering in europe, custom-designed dresses, and family connections that opened every door. but you brushed it off. starting drama wasn’t worth it. besides, for the most part, they were nice enough.

after almost two hours, rehearsal wrapped up. you and sarah said your goodbyes, ignoring rafe and topper’s exaggerated gagging noises as you hugged. stepping outside, you pulled out your phone, ready to call an uber.

rafe stood next to you, hands in his pockets, his stance casual as he looked out at the street, the sun casting shadows across his face.

“i forgot to thank you for agreeing to be my escort. i was stressing.” you glanced at him, tucking your phone away.

he raised a brow, his expression unreadable. “it was either you or ruthie, and topper is doing it. so don’t thank me.”

you frowned. “what’s wrong with ruthie?”

he let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “she’s just a complete bitch. i’m surprised she even has a partner—probably had to pay him or something.”

you shot him a pointed look. “don’t be mean.”

he shrugged like he didn’t care. “wanna grab something to eat?”

your stomach twisted slightly at the thought. you were kind of hungry, but you sighed, pretending to be reluctant. “rehearsal made me pretty tired.”

rafe turned to you with a deadpan expression. “from learning twenty seconds of a three-minute dance?”

you scoffed, shoving your hands into your back pockets. “this is some bridgerton shit. like i’m rehearsing to perform in front of the british family.”

he smirked. “and you’re the one who said ‘i hope you can dance.’”

“oh, shut up.” you lightly smacked his arm, shaking your head.

his smirk widened. “plus, coach said the more time you spend with your partner, the more comfortable you get. just come, i’ll drive you home after.”

you hesitated, biting your lip. an uber would cost you, and with your mom out, there wasn’t food at home anyway.

“fine, but you’re paying for me.”

he scoffed, pulling his keys from his pocket. “so i’m driving and paying? what am i, your boyfriend?”

you shot him a teasing grin. “you wish.”

he rolled his eyes, nodding toward the parking lot. “c’mon.”

navigation masterlist 02 03 04

note how are we feeling!! lmk your thoughts :) - H <3

comment to be in the taglist — @chaengist @starkeysfile @sexualparkour @dontknow3m @vivian-555 @amterasuu

[bubbleddisasters]

Guess whos back on their Che’nya theory shit again. Me.

Also some of this is just me going on about random and absolute far stretched shit, but hopefully the majority makes sense to y’all.

I’m about to sound batshit insane and this is going to be some MatPat sounding shit but here we go anyway.

WARNING‼️⚠️ MAJOR BOOK 7 SPOILERS AHEAD. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.

———————

I just made the realization that Che’nyas UM and already natural abilities we’ve seen puts him in a position to be deadass playing the Floor is Lava with Malleus as the lava rn.

They wouldn’t have told us his UM in the main story if it didn’t matter somehow. They had the opportunity to show us Neiges in Rooks dream, yet didn’t, so it isn’t a heres RSA UMs for for shits and giggles thing, and we don’t know ANY of the teachers UMs, so it isn’t a “filling npc” thing either.

In EVENTS, we learn the UMs of only the very important and/or dangerous characters. Rollo, Skully, and Fellow. (Geez, Halloween trio now that I think of it).

Do we know Dylia Spades? No. Do we know Eric Schronheits? No. Do we know Ambrose the 3rds? No. Do we know Elizas? No, we get slapped. Do we know Najima Vipers? No. (She might not have one yet tho but still).

These characters are all confirmed as mages, or not directly said to be magicless, so it’s fair to assume they are mages.

So they told us Che’nyas UM for a reason. Why?

Like if his UM makes him invulnerable to magic/attack and invisible, and straight up on ANOTHER PLANE OF EXISTENCE, then if he’s not technically “all there”, Malleus wouldn’t be able to sense him.

Plus, this would explain how Orthos body was floating on the water when STYX found it, as when we know Orthos HEAVY AF, and would more than likely sink, since I doubt they had the time to build in something inflatable enough to balance that weight.

To boot, Ortho was at the docks, which from the map, is super close to RSA.

For reference:

(Both normally and under Mals spell)

The Cheshire Cat is the one who gets Alice out of Wonderland (In the movie, the tunnel Alice runs through matches the Cheshire cats color and stripes + He’s the only one not chasing her+ in the OG book, the Cheshire Cat is more of a Guide and the only one who really sticks with and helps Alice for the whole shabang), and if he’s in RSA, then I think the writers know that.

Aswell as the fact Che’nya appears in both Books with “Tyrant” in the name, and the Cheshire Cat is the only person completely immune to the Queen of Hearts control, as the second most powerful being in wonderland next to LITERALLY TIME ITSELF.

Look in most Disney Villain Line-Ups, and you’ll find the Cheshire Cat. Why? Marketing, the Cheshire Cats a popular character that isn’t directly portrayed as a hero, and more as a mysterious reoccurring character that isn’t necessarily seen as a helper unless you squint.

Additionally, we’ve seen Che’nya use flight, self gravity control, teleportation(unconfirmed but implied on that one) and use his UM for extremely long periods of time, and now that I think of it, we’ve never seen it wear him down, even without the lack of a magestone on his design.

And anyway, in the manga, he’s been doing such things since before we meet him for the first time at age 8-9 from Rids perspective.

Which means long enough that he basically has full control over it at that age, so probably either since birth or very, very young.

Which gives us the know that unlocked his UM way before meeting Riddle and mastered it, which means likely as a literal toddler woke up one day and went “Hey what if I just fucked off to another plane of existence and became both invisible and invulnerable, while capable of movement and communication on this plane the whole time.”

Now back to Book 7.

So heres what caught my attention, Silver mentions the only people he can pop into the dreams of are people he has connections with.

Seeing as we get Sebek first crack out of the box, and then Lilia, this makes sense.

However, it falls off when the next people start to be people Silver either doesn’t know, or very loosely knows.

Yes, I understand the commercial and writing point is meant to be a dorm countdown, but it would make far more sense to be a Russian Roulette, kind of upping the anticipation of whos next.

But to me, with what we know of Silvers connections, it would make far more sense to have the second years be first after Dia, then maybe the third years that he knows because of Lilia, and finally the first years, still leaving room for Ace to get his UM towards the very end.

Now if we drive this back to my Che’nya playing Yuu’s guardian angel theory, it would make more sense to start with Pomfieore after Igi, because not only is it recent connections, so probably easier to bring to the forefront of Silvers UM, it gives him time to get up to NRC right after pushing Ortho or simply getting him out safely.

Before you mention malleus’s barrier, Che’nya gets past NRCs barrier that took STYX heavy power shots to break like its every other tuesday, without Crowleys notice aswell, he stands a viable chance of slipping past Malleus’s.

If he can jump to another plane of existence in which he is invulnerable to magic, theres nothing stopping him from sliding past to get Ortho out and slipping back in under Malleus’s nose.

It also gives him a good “oh shit” moment and an idea of the root of whats happening.

And if I’m wrong and he can’t teleport, he can latch on to Malleus (possibly referencing the Cheshire Cat latching onto the Queens back after she gets a card solider executed I think) to teleport with him back to NRC.

With that, he could be preventing Silver OBing by basically shattering the shade/phantom before it can even do anything, while also hiding Idia being awake. That, or basically lending Silver magic enough to keep going while praying to god Mal doesn’t notice.

Lilia playing the worlds most dangerous game of tag with Mal in dreamland gives him the distraction he needs for this aswell, and it could be that everything went to shit around Trey-Riddles Dreams, and Che’nya popped in to speed up the process and or Dream Che’nyas revealing his UM kinda got his ass caught by Mal, or caused Mal to finally detect a disturbance in the force.

So if I’m right with the previously theorized Guardian Angel thing, Che’nya could be hotwiring Silvers UM to send Silver and co to the people he remembers helped Yuu and the rest recently without risking Malleus putting two and two together on who could be fucking with the dreams other than Silver, depending on how he was portrayed in Trey and Rids Dreams.

Though it would be hilarious if with the Floor is Lavaing it he was also Night at the Musueming it and just repeatedly moved each dreamer closer to Silver physically so they’d have a physical connection (like pinky to pinky or head to head) and basically had Malleus doing a eyebrow raise everytime he turned around trying to figure out if that person had been moved or he was seeing things until he realized there was an exponentially large group around Silver that definitely wasn’t there before.

Another thing: We know the Three Good Fairies weren’t affected by Maleficent’s curse and are the ones to untie Philip when he’s caught and give him the Sword and Shield, which his has, and loses all but the sword in the fight against Maleficent, the Sword and Shield which in the Og twst Trailer that scene is likely referenced by Silver as the Sword (duh) and Sebek as the Shield, with Lilia where Philip would be, although his arm is raised higher.

You kinda have to flip Sebek and Silvers positions but yea.

Sebek being Virtue is self explanatory. He strives to have the virtue of a knight worth of Malleus, and shows this in many ways, but his faults are his rudeness, arrogance, biased or generally rude assumptions, and overexaggertion, stemming from his own internilzed racism (or speciesism? I guess?) , which lead many others to not want to be around him, deflecting the truth of his heritage as to not focus on his own insecurities like a shield to an attack, no matter who its from, in a way.

Now that he has begun to bond and not be as rude to the rest of the non fae cast however, he ends up passing out? Like how a shield seemingly has no use if its not defending, unless you get real creative with it (Its Reyn time I mean who said that)

Silver balances this out as truth, as he is someone we see is honest to almost no fault. His UM also shows truth, in its own way, by showing the truth of the desires of those around him. However, a truth has also been held directly from him, aka the truth of his birth, and the undeniable truth that to break the curse upon him, Lilia did have to truly love him, even as the child of his friends killer.

So he is both benefited and harmed by truth, just like how the same sword can both protect and kill, it just depends on who wields it.

Anyway, back to the point at hand, Now that Malleus seemingly has the time to go and pull a FNAF 4 at Idias door, the odds are Lilia may have somehow gotten caught or restrained (like Phillip is) for enough time to have Malleus notice the Shrouds are pulling shenanigans on his private dream servers and feel the need to go confirm this.

The way in the movie the Three Good Fairies are caught hiding Aurora by Maleficent in the first place is by getting too cocky on the day before Aurora’s B-day and using magic like crazy, fixing up and making their “gifts” much better, as they didn’t know how to create them without magic.

These gifts? A Cake by the GREEN fairy, the calmest and most mature of the three: Fauna, and a Dress, which the RED AND BLUE FAIRIES Merryweather (the most rebellious yet sensical) and Flora (the leader, most work focused and overconfident) keep fighting over which color it should be, Pink or Blue.

(I rewatched their scenes and I forgot how much of a fucking MVP Merryweather was, everyone else turning things into rainbows, bubbles and flowers while my girl was out here burning chains, hunting down snitches, turning her mfking ops to stone and had to be physically held back from throwing hands with Maleficent by herself, god bless this tiny blue diva)

Fauna can obviously be placed as Trey here. Calmest, a Cake, Green. Done.

You can combine Flora and Merryweather into the two sides of Riddles Dream, the first being very punk yet sensical lifestyle, the blue, bringing in the sadness of what he desired yet cannot have, and the second half being Flora, the extremes of overconfident and tyrannical leadership, the red of rage, to say.

Red and Blue obv equal Purple, Che’nyas signature color, probably because purple isn’t actually a fucking color. I’m not going to explain the history of purple, but there is not such thing as purple in science, only shades of violet.

Speaking of Pomfieore, the first non dia dreamer group we see, is VIOLET. I said it. (Octavielle is Lavender, so no, not directly purple) Bright Red is Heartstabyl. (Scarabia is Maroon, which is a shade of red, but again, not directly bright red)

Now what I’m going on about here is this: If In the dreams, each dreamers NPC versions of their friends strictly abides by what the dreamer desires them to, how did dream Che’nya not only transfer to both parts of Riddles dream, but also go directly AGAINST the dream and the dreamer?

The dream versions of the others cannot, under any circumstances, break the character the dreamer creates without breaking the dream itself.

We see this in Lilias dream, in Treys, and Deuces. The Senate, Cater and Ace respectively breach the line of what is and isn’t in character for them in the dreamers memory to hold the dreamer within the dream, causing their respective dreamer to wake up sheerly due to the stark contrast.

These characters will go to lengths to keep the dreamer asleep, so how is it that this dream version of Che’nya can do the exact opposite?

And in Treys dream, Che’nya is the only one not practically turned into Eric Cartman variants, which given the fact Cater, certified sweets hater, has too, means that Che’nya, certified sweets stealer, somehow dodged that bullet in Treys subconscious, which breaks the rules set by the dream.

These rules are delicate, seemingly. It takes one too out of character word, one too out of character action to knock the dreamer awake.

So either Trey sees Che’nya as having the self control of a monk (a small scene in manga implies Che’nya steals from the Clovers fridge so often Treys own damn siblings hear the fridge open and assume its him and not their own damn brother, so I doubt that he’d think that) or Che’nya can bypass these rules.

Many of the dreams would have been so much easier if they could conveniently convince the dreamers friends to go up against them for their sake or just to simply help wake them up.

Of all people, the dream version of Ace fucking Trappola actually listening to and abiding by Riddles tyranny and not jumping at the opportunity to S.O.S to Leona, Yuu and co says enough about this as is.

Anyway, what I’m saying here is that Che’nya either got his ass caught, or finally managed to hotwire himself into Silvers UM conga line, which unfortunately left Idia now in Mals notice and Silver becoming more weary from excess UM use.

Just like how the good fairies thought they’d succeeded and jumped the gun with using magic a day early, Chen could have thought that since they made it this far, their clean until further notice, and is gonna feel the hit of it later.

As my phone is dying and I want a fucking nap, this has been Blues randomass rant about Che’nya again.

More at ???? Folks.

[stevestevesstuff]

Drunken Confessions | Theodore Nott x reader

Pairing: Theodore Nott x reader

Summary: Feelings are confessed after seeing you flirt with another man.

Warnings: Characters are 18+!, Alcohol and drinking

Word Count: 3k

Please just imagine that the Weasley twins are still in school xD

The party in the Slytherin common room has been planned for months now and there was always something that got in the way of executing it. One time it was a big upcoming test; the other was the detention of a student who took part in planning this event. But today was finally the day. You could feel everyone’s excitement radiating from them, the way they walked and talked was an obvious sign of how happy they were that this party finally took place. It all started in the morning during breakfast where the only topic the other students were talking about was said party. Conversations on what to wear or with who to go filled the Great Hall. As the day carried on, the people walking through the ancient halls of Hogwarts only got more hyped for the upcoming event. We’ve obviously waited long enough for it to happen.

I was no exception. The moment I got up in the morning, all I could think about was that party. With a big smile blasted on my face, I started my morning, and I was convinced that nothing could ruin my good mood. School has been pretty stressful lately so being able to unwind and let loose for an evening was strongly needed. For everyone.

While walking towards our dorm after class, me and my friend Lorelai were talking about what to wear. She was insisting on wearing her tight black mini dress with high heels, though I tried to talk her out of it. The party will take place in the Slytherin common room. In the dungeons. It would be too cold.

But I was unsuccessful with trying to change her mind. In the end she even convinced me to wear my sparkly dark green mini dress to match her “aesthetic”. Fortunately, this dress had sleeves so I wouldn’t totally freeze to death. Plus, there would be plenty of alcohol so after thinking about it I doubted that the cold could even be a problem.

The moment we arrived at our dorm, Lori stormed through the door and headed towards her closet to set out her outfit. I just chuckled and started doing my make-up.

“Soooo….” I looked up from my mirror when I heard Lori talking and gave her a questioning look.

“Mr. Nott did not ask you to go to the party with him, did he?”

Lorelei’s question made me freeze for a moment. She knew about the crush I had on my best friend Theodore Nott. How could she not? This poor girl had to listen to at least one hundred rants from my side on how perfect and nice and gentle and handsome he is.

I shook my head. “No. In fact, he didn’t even talk about the party until I mentioned it once while studying. At first, he didn’t seem really interested in going.”

“Okay, weird. Theodore Nott and not being hyped about a party? Is he okay? Does he need to go to Madam Pomfrey?” Lorelei’s joke made me giggle a bit.

She was right. Theo and his other friends were one of the few people you would always see whenever there was alcohol. So not mentioning such a big event was not like Theo at all.

“I don’t know. I guess he was just stressed out from all the tests and homework we had over the past couple weeks. But anyways, I convinced him to go with us. Or more specifically pick us up today and escort us to the party.”

Lori just looked at me. There must have been a quite obvious look of disappointment on my face as I explained the situation, because all I got as a response was her signature “I pity you” look. I rolled my eyes at her and continued to concentrate on my make up.

But she was right. I was disappointed. Very much that is.

Since I can remember I had a crush on Theo. The moment I first saw him in the Great Hall during the Sorting Ceremony I knew that I would like him. More than just as friends. And the more we did together, the closer we got, my feeling for him just grew. As he became my best friend, I tried to hide my feelings. Or more like lock them away and keep them suppressed as best as possible. Most of the time it worked, but in some unfortunate moments of weakness, my love for him just seemed to burst out of me.

Like that one evening we spent together on the astronomy tour. We were talking about everything and nothing, just enjoying each other’s company. Theo somehow noticed that I was cold and without hesitating, he gave me his sweater. In this moment, I couldn’t hide the blush that was creeping up my face and unfortunately, I also started to stutter. I couldn’t form any coherent sentences anymore and the worst part about this was that Theo noticed immediately and started teasing me, asking if I had a crush on him.

Just thinking about this evening was making me blush again. This stupid crush. I wish I could just get over it.

Time seemed to fly by and neither of us took notice, the only thing reminding us of how late it actually was, was a sudden knock on our door. Lorelei jumped up from the floor, on which she was doing her hair, to open.

“Babes! It’s your boyfriend!”

I rolled my eyes at her comment but smiled slightly. Oh, how I’d love to be able to call him that.

“I hope I do not intrude but it’s getting late ladies. The party is starting in 15 minutes” A small smirk crept on his lips as his eyes found mine.

Merlin, this smirk. It made me weak in the knees. Fortunately for me, I was still seated on the floor.

I took a moment to look at Theo properly. His hair was still slightly wet from an apparent shower he took before getting ready. Damp curls falling on his forehead, the rest of it looking kind of messy. But in a good way. He also chose to wear his black button-up with his sleeves rolled up. (Which made me go crazy but for obvious reasons can’t tell him) and black dress pants. Everything about this man was perfect and the fact that he somehow managed to look even more handsome this evening made my mind wander to places it definitely shouldn’t.

Before my brain got out of control, I nodded and got up from the floor to walk towards him.

“You know? Beauty takes time but I think we’re done here, right Lori?” I said as I gave Theo a small wink and Lorelei a confirming look. She just nodded, but then started running frantically through our dorm, searching for something.

Me and Theo just watched as she literally turned her whole closet upside down until she had found what she was looking for. Her matching black purse.

“Ready! Let’s go!”

A small chuckle escaped my lips as Lori pushed past me and Theo, running out into the hallway. I gave Theo a quick nudge to his side and off we were.

While walking towards the Slytherin common room, Lorelei walking in front of us, Theo leaned in towards me.

“You look breathtaking, Bella.”

I felt the heat rise to my cheeks, his cologne seeping through my senses and I turned away, trying to hide the immense blush that started spreading on my face. The effect this man had on me was unbelievable.

Theo just chuckled lightly, seemingly proud about what he had achieved and continued to lead me and my friend towards the location of the party.

Even before arriving, loud music and laughter could be heard. The excitement was rushing through my body, and I couldn’t wait to dance, drink and just let loose.

The moment the three of us entered the Slytherin common room, Lori was pulled away by a group of Ravenclaws standing by the entrance, so me and Theo continued to head towards the main area.

The music got louder, and the air got thicker and hotter. Even though the party only started around 10 minutes ago, it was in full swing. Some people were standing near two tables which acted as a makeshift bar, others were dancing to the music and some students were just socializing with others from different houses. I took a deep breath in, smelling the alcohol and sweat lingering in the air. The fear of being too cold in my mini dress immediately left my mind as I felt the heat of at least 50 people ingulfing me.

I turned around to look at Theo, but he wasn’t there anymore. Somehow, this man always managed to disappear without a trace. A small frown spread across my face at the absence of my best friend. Was he serious right now? He just left me standing there? Alone? I shook my head, trying to get any negative thoughts out of my brain and made my way over to the bar, intending to get either some shots of fire whiskey or gin.

As I served myself one or two glasses of alcohol, I felt a presence behind me. Before I could turn around to acknowledge said person, I felt a hand on my shoulder. My hopes of it being Theo were immediately crushed as I turned around and was met with a big smile belonging to Fred Weasley.

“Hello gorgeous.” He gave me a smooth wink.

“All by yourself? While you look like that? I consider this a crime.” I chuckled at his playful and faked offended tone.

I chuckled awkwardly, not knowing how to respond. But then I thought to myself, why not? I’m allowed to have a little bit of fun. Fred is nice, he wouldn’t do anything I wouldn’t want, so I decided to join in on the flirting.

“Well, hello to you too Weasley. You don’t look too bad yourself.” I jokingly flirted back, obviously checking him out while downing my first glass of fire whiskey.

“Are you ready for the best night of your life, darling?”

“Of course, who do you think I am?” Fred smirked at my answer, motioning me to drink my second glass of alcohol I held in my hand. I followed his command, grimacing while I felt the cool liquid burn down my throat, earning a laugh from the guy in front of me.

The night continued and I wandered through the common room, catching up with people I haven’t talked to in a while, though I always found myself back at Freds side as his company and lightheaded personality drew me in.

I wasn’t really interested in him, though I really enjoyed the playful flirting and the compliments we threw at each other throughout the night. It made me forget how Theo had just abandoned me without saying anything. The thought alone made my heart ache.

As I downed my eighth or ninth drink (I couldn’t really think straight anymore, let alone count), I found myself surrounded by a group of Gryffindors, including Harry, Hermoine, Ron, Neville and the Weasley twins. We laughed, told jokes and gossiped. I had the time of my life.

Suddenly, Fred took my hand and pulled me towards the dance floor.

“I love this song! Come. Dance with me gorgeous!”

I felt his hands holding my waist, swaying me to the sound of the music. I closed my eyes, trying to concentrate on the melody and beat of the song, hoping I was looking at least a bit presentable while dancing. Fred leaned in closer, seemingly trying to get more physical contact with me.

But before I could reciprocate his actions, someone pulled me away from my dance partner. The alcohol in my system was numbing my senses so before I even realized that I was no longer dancing with Fred, I was being pulled away from the party. My head was spinning and for the first few seconds, I couldn’t even tell who was walking in front of me with my wrist in their hand. I just awkwardly stumbled after the guy who frantically shook his head and swore under his breath.

“Cazzo! What were you thinking?”

I’d recognize this voice anywhere and anytime. Theo.

I opened my mouth to say something, though no words came out. Finally, we stopped, and Theo turned around to look at me, his grip still firm on my wrist.

“What the fuck were you thinking? Weasley? Of all people? You decided to flirt and dance with a Weasley?” The words rolled off Theo’s tongue like venom. He was mad. No. Infuriated.

“I….”

“No! I don’t want any excuses. Of all the people present at this party you chose to not only flirt and dance with another boy, but also, this boy was a Weasley.”

I have never seen Theo this mad, and my mind couldn’t comprehend why.

“What’s the matter with you? Am I not allowed to have some fun? Plus, I’m very capable of deciding with whom I flirt with. That’s my decision to make. Not yours.”

Theo swallowed hard, probably trying to contain himself from shouting. I could feel the tension radiating off him.

He leaned in, coming dangerously close to my face, still holding my wrist.

“Bella don’t fight me on this. You know very well why I have a problem with this situation.”

He was so close; I could feel his breath on my face and smell his cologne. A blush crept onto my face at the closeness of his body. God. Why was he so hot?

I looked at him, trying to stand my ground.

“Unfortunately, no. I do not know why you have such a big problem with me flirting with Fred. Plus, what else was I supposed to do? Lori was having fun with her friends, and you were nowhere to be found. You left me standing there. Alone. So, I found myself someone to spend the evening with.”

Theo suddenly let go of my hand, putting some distance between us. He raised his hands, brushing them through his already messy hair, letting out a frustrated sigh.

“By Merlin….” The clear frustration in his voice made it obvious that he had enough of this conversation.

“Do you like him?” Theo suddenly asked.

“What?”

“Do you like him?” This time, his voice was firmer, demanding an answer.

I looked at him, my eyes meeting his and for a moment, I could see something behind his eyes that I had never seen before. Desperation, mixed with a little bit of hope.

“I…no. I don’t like him like that.”

“Then why would you spend the whole evening flirting with him?”

“Because I wanted to, okay? You are not my boyfriend, you can’t dec- “

Before I could even finish my sentence, Theo closed the distance between us, reaching up with his hands to cup my cheeks. This action lets a small yelp escape my lips.

“Wha- “

My head was spinning, and I wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol or Theo’s closeness. I was sure that if his body wasn’t pressed so tightly to mine, I would have sunk to the ground with how weak my knees were at that moment. His hands gently caressed my cheeks, his right thumb slowly stroking it. The way he looked at me with desperation, hope and…longing was too much for me. I even stopped breathing for a second. I noticed Theo’s eyes wandering down towards my lips where they lingered for a second before they found my eyes again.

“What…what if I want to be just that?” Theo asked quietly while seemingly staring into my soul.

“What do you mean?”

“What if I want to be your boyfriend?”

The moment these words left Theos lips, my breath hitched, and my mind went blank. What did he just say? My head started spinning even more and I felt a blush rise on my face.

“I like you, cara mia. I’ve always liked you, but I was too much of a fool to tell you. I was scared of ruining our friendship but seeing you today, flirting with another man, that was too much for me. I couldn’t handle you being in the arms of anyone but me.” These words left his lips in a tone so gentle, I would have never believed they came from Theo if I wasn’t experiencing it first handed.

“I….”

“You don’t have to say anything. You probably won’t even remember what I’m telling you right now in the morning. I guess I won’t either. But I needed to get this out of me. I needed you to know how I felt about you.”

Suddenly, I felt a rush of confidence wandering through my body. I raised my hands to mirror Theos previous actions, cupped his cheeks and pulled his face towards mine. Our lips met and I felt like I could explode. The feeling of his lips was better than I could have ever imagined. They were soft and the slight taste of alcohol and cigarettes on them made this kiss so much more intoxicating.

His hands left my cheeks, wandering down my body until they settled on my waist, pulling me even closer into him. The kiss got more and more messy, teeth were clashing, and lips were bitten.

After what felt like an eternity, I had to catch my breath. As I pulled away, my hands still caressing his cheeks and his hands on my waist, a small smile spread across my lips as I tried to breath properly. As I looked up at Theo, the biggest smile I had ever seen on him was painted on his face.

“I love you, amore.” He said, still trying to catch his breath.

“I love you too, darling.”

His hands left my waist, removing mine from his cheeks and gently intertwining our fingers. He gently pulled me behind me, walking in the direction of his dorm.

“So, I guess it’s official now, Bella. No more flirting with Weasley. Or any other man for that matter.” His joke only earned a small laugh from me, already imagining what might happen in his dorm.

[keepingitformyself]

older (and wiser): iii

A/N: well here we are! the final chapter of “older (and wiser).” this will not be the end tho! i plan to write a prequel series going more into depth about wanda and readers past, how they came to be, how they fell apart and what not. i do want to to make one more thing clear before you continue reading; this story is meant to be as realistic as possible. meaning the ending may not be for everyone. i specifically wrote this with intent of giving these characters an emotional arc they deserved. so, without further ado, enjoy this final chapter!

synopsis: wanda comes over for dinner one last time.

pairings: wanda maximoff x reader

genre: angst

warnings: it’s gonna be sad lowk. get the tissues ready.

MASTERLIST series masterlist

please do not repost my work anywhere for any reason at all. if you do see this happen to any of my stories, please let me know. thank you x.

wanda spends most of the night back at her hotel, staring out the large window that overlooks the city. neon signs flicker in the distance, their glow casting fragmented patterns across her room.

she leans her forehead against the cool glass, letting the city hum around her, lost in thoughts of you. she imagines what you could be doing right now. if paul’s arms were wrapped around you, if he makes you laugh the way she used to. a hollow ache settles in her chest as she lets herself sink into the deep loss of not having you anymore.

the next day, early morning, wanda’s phone buzzes on the nightstand. she reaches for it groggily, only to find a message from you at the top of her screen.

come by at 6:30? here’s the address: 150 west 26th street, new york, ny 10001. see you soon!

for a moment, wanda just stares at the screen, her thumb hovering over the message. she exhales slowly, closing her eyes as a wave of uncertainty washes over her. part of her wants to pack her bags right then and there, to book an early flight and leave you in this city behind.

she doesn’t know which is worse. never facing you again or having to sit across the dinner table from you and your husband-to-be.

she spends the rest of the day mentally preparing herself for how this evening could go, running through endless scenarios in her head.

what would one talk about when having dinner with their ex’s fiance? especially when said ex is someone you’re still seemingly in love with.

oh yeah, your fiance used to look at me the same way.

or

of course, i know what her favorite song is. ‘do i ever cross your mind?’ by dolly parton. i performed it for her on our eighth month anniversary.

yeah, i paid the tech guy in the theatre department extra to let me use the theatre after hours.

the thoughts make her cringe, but the bitterness is hard to suppress. she tries to bite back the small, unwarranted hatred she’s developed for paul. everything she’s learned about him—despite her best efforts not to—has been nothing but positive.

he’s generous, patient, successful, and clearly loves you. and wanda knows you wouldn’t be marrying someone who didn’t treat you like you deserved the whole world.

it’s all pathetic in its nature. she should have been over you long by now. but she doesn’t know how to explain to you— to explain to herself—that leaving you is still something she’s trying to process. that even when she didn’t appreciate you enough, you felt like everything to her. you still do.

and she doesn’t know how to make sense of any of it.

by the time the sun sets, wanda’s resolve is still fragile. she dressed carefully, standing in front of the mirror for far too long, fussing with her appearance. she wants to look composed, unbothered. as if seeing you happy with someone else doesn’t feel like dagger to the heart. one that you keep twisting without trying.

at 6:15, she steps outside her hotel and hails a cab, clutching a bottle of wine she bought earlier as a polite gesture. as the cab weaves through the bustling streets of new york, wanda wonders what kind of expression you’ll wear when you see her. will it be warm, nostalgic, indifferent? she braces herself for anything.

when the cab drops her off in front of a sleek residential building in tribeca, she lingers for a moment before buzzing in. the door unlocks with a soft click, leading her into a quiet corridor toward an elevator. she steps inside, pressing the button for your floor with a hand that feels unsteady.

the walls feel too close. the air feels too thick.

by the time she reaches your door, her nerves are frayed. she knocks twice, her heart hammering.

four seconds later, the door swings open, and there you are, beaming at her like no time has passed.

"hi! it’s so good to see you."

before wanda can say anything, you pull her into a hug, warm and familiar. she exhales sharply, caught off guard, but she lets herself sink into it, just for a moment.

when you pull away, she notices the man standing just a few feet behind you, a cat in his arms. he watches the interaction with a patient, kind smile before gently setting the cat down.

“sorry about that,” paul says, laughing as the cat immediately tries to sneak toward the door. "he bolts every chance he gets."

then, without hesitation, he steps forward and grasps wanda’s hands in his own. his grip is firm, his smile genuine.

“it’s really nice to meet you, wanda.”

for a second, wanda is stunned by the ease of his kindness. she had spent so much time building him up in her head as an obstacle, an enemy, but standing here now, faced with his warmth, she almost felt guilty for ever resenting him.

“thank you for having me,” she manages, recovering quickly. she glances around, taking in the space. "you have a lovely home."

then, as if suddenly remembering, she reaches into her bag.

“i brought some wine,” she says, handing it to you. “the expensive kind. i know my stuff.” she huffs out a small laugh, forcing some lightness into her voice.

paul chuckles, taking the bottle from your hands to examine it. “i like her already.”

and just like that, wanda knows this is going to hurt more than she thought.

dinner passes in a blur of polite conversation and well-meaning smiles. paul is gracious, effortlessly kind, and wanda hates how easy it is to like him. she hates that there’s nothing about him to hate at all.

she watches the way you lean into him when you laugh, how his hand absentmindedly finds yours on the table. it’s second nature, the kind of comfort that only comes with time, with certainty.

and wanda knows, without question, that she has none of those things with you anymore.

paul has made it a habit to ask about how you and wanda met. even though she’s sure he already knows most of the story, he’s always genuine in wanting to hear more, especially the parts you tend to leave out.

“you got any funny stories about this one?” paul asks, flashing wanda a pointed smile. “something embarrassing, please.”

wanda huffs out a quiet laugh, her fingers tracing the rim of her glass. she has plenty. but as she glances between you and paul, there’s a flicker of hesitation in her eyes. some memories feel lighter than others. some carry more weight than she knows what to do with.

still, when she sees the way you’re watching her; curious, amused, trusting, she decides to tell it.

“oh, i’ve got one,” she says, leaning forward slightly. “back in college, we tried to break into the theatre department after hours. it wasn’t really breaking in, technically, the door was open, but we definitely weren’t supposed to be there. they had this whole wire rig set up for the upcoming peter pan production, and somebody—” she tilts her chin toward you “—thought it would be a great idea to try it out.”

paul turns to you, amused. “why am i not surprised?”

you groan, already bracing for the rest of the story. wanda smirks but continues, her voice softer now.

“so, there she was, strapped into this ridiculous harness, so sure she was about to soar across the stage like some theatrical prodigy. but the second she tried to lift off, the harness jammed, and instead of flying, she was just—”

“i was dangling there,” you chime in, groaning at the memory. “like some tragic shakespearean ghost.”

“and then, of course, security walks in,” she says, shaking her head. “and instead of, i don’t know, explaining, she panicked and yelled, ‘i have done the deed. didst thou not hear a noise?’”

paul bursts out laughing, nearly choking on his drink. “you did not.”

“she did,” wanda confirms, laughing softly. “the security guy just stood there for a second, like he was reconsidering every choice that led him to that moment, then sighed and said, ‘get down.’”

paul grins, shaking his head. “so, what happened next?”

“i had to help her out of the harness before we both got kicked out,” wanda says. “and then we ran. fast.” she pauses, her smile dimming just a little. “ended up at that all-night diner by campus instead. sat there for hours, drinking burnt coffee, still laughing about it.”

her voice drifts for a moment, lost in the memory. you swallow, feeling something heavy settle in your chest, but before the silence can stretch too long, you force out a small chuckle.

“i could’ve flown,” you say, shaking your head. “i just needed a little more time.”

wanda looks at you then, and there’s something in her gaze. something paul doesn’t quite catch, but you do.

“yeah,” she murmurs. “maybe you just needed more time.”

paul laughs again, unaware of the way wanda’s fingers tighten around her glass. “you two were absolute menaces, huh?”

and just like that, the moment passes. the air lightens again, and Wanda takes another sip of her wine. but the memory lingers between you, heavier than it should be.

“did she ever tell you that we watch some of your movies sometimes?” paul cuts in, his eyes bright with genuine curiosity. there’s an eager energy to him, the kind that makes it clear he isn’t just saying it to be polite—he actually wants to talk about her work.

wanda raises an eyebrow, glancing at you. “oh?”

you offer a small, sheepish smile, and paul continues before you can respond.

“i mean, seriously,” he says, leaning forward slightly. “i’m already a pretty emotional guy, but your movies? they wreck me.”

wanda lets out a soft, amused laugh, her fingers absently tracing the stem of her wine glass. “that’s very kind of you to say.” she takes a slow sip before adding, almost offhandedly, “i guess i just have a thing for playing characters in distress.”

paul barks out a laugh at that, shaking his head. “yeah, well, you do it very well. it’s almost unfair.”

wanda smirks, but there’s something thoughtful in the way she tilts her head, as if considering his words. then, with a teasing glint in her eye, she leans in slightly and says, “i take it you’re a crier, then?”

paul places a hand over his chest in mock offense. “absolutely. no shame.”

that earns a more genuine laugh from wanda, and for a moment, the tension in her shoulders eases. the air between the three of you feels a little lighter.

when the plates are empty and the conversation slows, paul pushes back his chair with a contented sigh.

“i’ll start on the dishes,” he says, already stacking plates. “you two should catch up.”

you smile at him, appreciative, and wanda feels something twist in her chest. she shouldn’t be here. she doesn’t belong here.

still, she doesn’t move.

you refill your wine glass and lean back in your chair, watching her carefully. wanda swirls what’s left in her own glass, staring at the deep red before speaking.

“maybe i should’ve tried to convince you to run off with me,” she jokes, her voice light, almost teasing.

but when she finally looks up, she sees the way your expression falters, just for a second. you know, both of you do, that it isn’t really a joke.

you let out a small breath, shaking your head with a soft chuckle. “that wouldn’t have changed anything, wanda.”

“wouldn’t it?” she asks, a little too quickly.

your eyes search hers, and for a fleeting moment, it feels like the past is sitting between you, untouched, waiting.

wanda wonders if there’s a universe where you had run off together. if there’s a version of you out there, tangled up in her arms instead of in someone else’s.

she swallows hard. “i wish i had tried a little harder.”

your face softens, but it’s not enough to undo the distance between you. “you couldn’t help it,” you say, voice gentle.

"i could have," she insists, her hands gripping the stem of her glass a little too tightly. there’s frustration in her voice, but beneath it, there’s something raw. regret, maybe.

you don’t argue. you won’t. because the truth is, she could have.

"yeah," you admit, barely above a whisper. "maybe."

silence settles between you. wanda watches as your gaze shifts toward the window, toward the street where people pass by, oblivious to the ache sitting between you both.

she doesn’t know what she was expecting. maybe some kind of reassurance that she still lingers in your mind the way you linger in hers. that if things had been different, if she had been different, this could have been her home, her life.

but you don’t give her that.

paul’s voice calls from the kitchen. “babe, where’s the dish soap?”

you blink, turning toward the sound, and the spell is broken.

wanda forces a smile, downing the last of her wine before standing. “i should get going.”

you don't question it.

you grab wanda’s coat from the rack and walk her to the door. she doesn’t ask you to, but neither of you are quite ready for the night to end without one last moment.

“leaving so soon?” paul asks suddenly, his voice light but tinged with something unreadable. both you and wanda turn to face him.

she nods apologetically, adjusting the strap of her bag on her shoulder. “i have an early flight tomorrow,” she admits, offering a small, regretful smile.

“oh.” paul’s disappointment is subtle but there, it flickers in his eyes before he shapes his expression into something more polite. “well, it was really nice meeting you, wanda.”

you glance at him, catching the way he shifts slightly, rubbing his thumb over the inside of his palm. a small habit of his when he’s holding something back. you wonder, briefly, if tonight was difficult for him too, if he’s been carrying the weight of this evening the same way you have. you decide you’ll ask him about it later.

stepping forward, you lean in to press a kiss to his cheek, feeling the way his jaw relaxes at the familiar gesture. his hand finds yours easily, his fingers warm and steady against your own.

“i’m just gonna walk her out,” you murmur, giving his hand a small squeeze.

paul nods, his eyes searching yours for a moment before he offers wanda another polite smile. “safe travels,” he says, his voice kind, sincere.

as you lead wanda toward the door, you feel the weight of paul’s gaze lingering on you, as if he knows that this goodbye is heavier than it appears.

the air outside is crisp, carrying the distant hum of the city. wanda stands beside you on the curb, her arms wrapped around herself despite the warmth of her coat. the streetlights cast long shadows, and for a second, it feels like you’re standing on the edge of something you’ll never get back.

her uber is a few minutes away. that’s all the time you have left.

she exhales softly, eyes fixed on the passing cars. then, as if she’s been holding it in all night, she finally asks, “do you think we could have worked things out? if we had been different people? under different circumstances?”

the question hits you. you open your mouth, but nothing comes out. because the truth is, you don’t know.

maybe in another life. maybe in a world where you didn’t leave the hotel before she could see you, where you both didn’t have to love each other from a distance, where you didn’t have to wonder if loving her meant waiting for something that wasn’t enough.

but this isn’t that world.

you swallow hard, staring down at the pavement. “i don’t know, wanda.”

she nods, as if she expected that answer, but the sadness in her eyes deepens anyway. “me neither.”

the uber pulls up, headlights cutting through the night, and you both turn toward it. this is it. the real goodbye.

wanda hesitates, then reaches for you, pulling you into one last embrace. you don’t know who’s holding onto who tighter. when she pulls away, her hand lingers on your arm for a second too long before she finally steps back.

“take care of yourself,” she murmurs, voice barely above a whisper.

you give her a tight-lipped smile, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “you too, wanda.”

she slides into the backseat, and as the car pulls away, you stand frozen on the sidewalk, watching until the taillights disappear around the corner.

and then it hits you.

the weight of it all crashes down at once. the grief, the finality, the understanding that there are some lives you’ll never get to live, some love stories that will never get their second chance.

you press a hand to your mouth as your chest tightens, eyes stinging, but you force yourself to turn back toward the building before you fall apart completely.

when you step into the lobby, you’re not surprised to see paul waiting by the elevator. he doesn’t say anything. he doesn’t have to.

the moment you reach him, you break.

a choked sob escapes you as you fall into his arms, and he holds you without hesitation, one hand smoothing over your hair, the other wrapped firmly around your back.

“i’ve got you,” he murmurs against your temple. and you believe him.

because this was never about leaving him.

you love paul. you’ve never questioned that.

but love doesn’t erase the what-ifs. it doesn’t quiet the ache of knowing there’s a version of you out there who loved wanda differently, who had a life that was beautiful in its own way. one that you’ll never get to live.

paul presses a kiss to your hair and just holds you, letting you mourn what could have been.

and when you’re finally ready, he walks you up.

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Link found it strange that he was being summoned to the observation room. Usually if the queen needed him, she’d just call him to the throne room at the end of her busy day. If it was less official she would come find him with the children.

When he reached the room in question, he glanced around. Guards flanked the entrance as usual, and the area was devoid of all else save the queen, who stood up on the balcony looking out at the city.

Link had sometimes ventured to this room over the years, far more so recently, but sometimes it left him feeling too exposed. He moved slowly up the small stairway to the upper level, feeling the cool breeze of winter’s periphery slowly fading away.

Zelda was dressed warmly, wearing attire that reminded him of the war. He recalled the last year of the war had been unseasonably cold, making things more miserable, and Zelda had taken to wearing two dresses layered over each other. Although she had favored pinks and reds and golds as a princess, she typically wore shades of blue or green nowadays to honor the goddesses of wisdom and courage. Her dark blue gown that she wore today, embroidered with silver around the trim, was no different. He could see the pale pink underdress at her collar, with the blue one’s collar far lower and wider than the layer underneath. Her hands were clasped in front of her as she watched the sunset.

Entering the balcony, Link questioned, “You needed me?”

The queen turned toward him a little, green eyes sparkling in the golden light. “I got a concerning update from the Gerudo Desert in a meeting today. I thought you might be interested.”

Link felt dread fill his stomach, but he kept his face guarded. “What news?”

“There’s a possibility of fighting on the horizon,” Zelda explained. When Link’s eyes widened in alarm, she clarified, “Not us. It’s within themselves.”

Link didn’t know how to feel, nor why Zelda was relaying this to him. He was certainly relieved there wasn’t another war brewing, but what was wrong? Was Hemisi alright?

What did Zelda want out of this?

“I don’t know the politics of the Gerudo tribe too well, I’m afraid,” the queen continued, looking back at Castle Town. “But it seems there are some who are unhappy with Chief Hemisi’s leadership.”

That was… Link tried to parse this out. He knew next to nothing of what Hemisi had been up to over the years, only that through her efforts the Gerudo had survived. He knew there had been skirmishes between her and the Hyrulian Marshall - it was part of the reason he had been sent to negotiate a trade deal with her years ago. But after he’d returned he’d pointedly avoided any information pertaining to the desert or its people. While he had occasionally kept Hemisi in his prayers, he’d really not considered her much… at least as much as possible. He had to focus on his children, on the Sheikah, on actually being a functional person.

In the end, he’d known she’d take care of herself. If she’d survived that cursed war and, more importantly, managed to pick herself up after what he’d done to her, she could survive anything.

More to the point, though, Zelda wouldn’t be telling him this just for information’s sake.

Before he could inquire, the queen sighed. “It’s sad that there always seems to be an issue there nowadays. I recall when they first came to the castle years ago. Father wouldn’t let me near them, but they seemed a vibrant people. I wish I’d known them for more than just war.”

This conversation was not going the way he thought it would. Link approached her slowly until he stood beside her, following her gaze down to the city below. They were too high up to see much detail, but he could still make out people going about their business in the central square.

“Do you think their capital once looked like ours?” Zelda asked.

The king smiled, eyes growing distant as he remembered his earlier years. But the smile faded quickly. “It… did. A little. Different architecture, more vibrant colors. Far different culture.”

The queen looked at him, surprised. “You saw their capital before it was destroyed? Or were you there when—”

“No,” Link answered strongly. “I was not there when that monster chose to burn it to the ground. I visited it a few times before the war.”

Zelda swallowed, and her gaze dropped to the floor. “I didn’t sanction that order.”

“I know,” Link said far more gently, reassuring her. “You would never give such an order. The general took matters into his own hands. What I don’t like is that he is still viewed as a hero for it.”

The queen stiffened, arms coming up to hug herself as her brow furrowed. “It was a hard lesson that I learned that day. I… I wanted to punish him. But I was advised against it, and I saw how people cheered and celebrated.”

Link didn’t comment. He knew that who history determined to be a hero was hardly based on who actually deserved it.

Goddesses knew he didn’t deserve the title. At least not anymore.

But this conversation was still strange. Zelda had to be discussing this for a reason. “Do you think we might get pulled into their problems?”

Their problems. As if they were just foreigners, as if the chief wasn’t a beloved friend, a—

Shut up! He snapped at himself, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. There was a reason he tried not to think about the Gerudo.

“I don’t know,” Zelda answered evenly, relaxing. “Father never paid attention to the Gerudo until they brought themselves to him. Obviously we don’t have that luxury, give the history.”

“Why not?” Link asked. “We shouldn’t meddle.”

“Everything and everyone is interconnected,” the queen replied sagely, facing the city once more. “Father lived in his own world, only wanting validation and safety, and he cared for nothing outside that. Affairs of other lands were not his problem. I know better than that. It’s why I’ve been watching the Zora conflict as well.”

There was a Zora conflict? Was everyone having troubles these days?

“I remember when the Gerudo came, he told me to stay away from them. He said they were dangerous,” Zelda commented softly, seemingly nostalgic. “It makes no sense that…”

She bit her lip. Link supplied carefully, “That he let them take the Triforce?”

She sighed heavily. “He always said Ganondorf was not as great a threat as I claimed, yet he was the one who said it first. But I think he only said it to me because he didn’t want me exposed.”

Link leaned against the stone railing of the balcony, facing her fully, tilting his head to the side. Was this actually about the Gerudo, or simply Zelda needing to vent about her father?

It was certainly a strange way to go about it. But the queen did seem to be in a strange mood.

A small, sardonic smile pulled at Zelda’s lips, and she huffed. “You know, I think my father had grown fond of their prince, Merovar. Took him under his wing in a sense. I… I think he wanted us to marry.”

Link stared. Stared a little longer. Let the words sink in.

And then he laughed.

King Ozen had wanted Zelda to marry Merovar? Had Ganondorf even known, even realized—

Reality swam away and swirled and crumbled and shuddered and buried him, and he laughed all the harder.

He could’ve won. He could’ve won and he didn’t even know it.

Zelda did not seem to know why her husband had started wheezing hysterically, and her own mild bitterness crumbled away into concern.

Link didn’t realize he’d started crying until he saw her watching him worriedly.

“Hylia,” he gasped breathlessly, wiping the tears away hastily. “I’m sorry, I—your father was an idiot.”

And so was mine.

He shook the thought away. Ganondorf had never been his father.

Zelda’s eyebrows rose at his words, at his bluntness, but he didn’t rescind them. Did she not realize? If Ozen had wed Zelda to Merovar, to the Gerudo kingdom’s heir, then it would have been a power play to see whose kingdom would absorb the other… and it was obvious who would have won.

Ganondorf could have gotten the Triforce without lifting a finger. But his hunger for power was insatiable and impatient.

He could have won.

Link wished he’d never learned this, but he still found it hilarious. He hoped, somehow, that the demon king’s torn up, twisted soul could learn it too, that he could have gotten what he’d wanted if he’d just not been a monster and not started a war.

But there was far too much anger and pain and possibility to get lost in with such knowledge, so he simply tried to move the conversation forward. “Is that why you called me, then? To tell me of the Gerudo affairs?”

Zelda swallowed, growing serious once more. “Yes. I apologize for getting side tracked, I’ve just been nostalgic lately, I suppose.”

He should probably ask her about that, but he’d do so later. Maybe. If she stopped by another time instead of summoning him. This was official business.

“I just… am concerned. About the outcome of this.” Zelda continued. “We do not know much of this other faction’s leader. Chief Hemisi does not like Hyrule, but I know she will not attack us outright.”

Link stiffened. “You think this other faction would?”

“I don’t know enough,” she repeated uncertainly.

Ah. Zelda hated not being control. He did know that.

“I can ready the troops,” he said to assure her, praying it wouldn’t be necessary. He knew it wouldn’t be - Hemisi wouldn’t let this usurper win.

“Perhaps just… ensure the Sheikah have arsenal available,” Zelda answered carefully. “There has been no fighting yet.”

Link nodded. And he noticed—in this light, the queen looked rather… exhausted. He wondered how much this was truly bothering her.

“Hyrule will be safe,” he assured her. “I promise.”

With that, the king departed, and both monarchs were left with hearts full of worry.

[4lexnilsen]

alex doesn’t elaborate any further on his feelings,  but doesn’t completely barricade his heart either this time.   they’ve been through hell and back together tonight.   he’s put her through hell…   he can’t keep going like this,  doesn’t have the energy for it.   a small smile breaks across his features at the explanation,  his elbow gently bumping against her side as he teases,   “and there i was,  thinking it was meant for harry’s face.”   war and peace worked wonders,  though.   over a thousand pages and hardcover?   he wouldn’t be surprised if that big nose of his was broken,  after all.   “same.   i don’t find bars particularly interesting or stimulating so i always bring a book,”   he explains shyly,  seeing helena’s reaction and how it matches his own,  and feeling a sense of togetherness once more.   there’s a faint connection rekindling,  and it frightens him in a way.   he doesn’t deserve her.   he shouldn’t be feeling like this.   “i prefer cafes and bakeries over bars and clubs.   i’m boring like that.”   it’s something sarah said to him a while back,  and he can’t help but agree —   he isn’t the life of the party.

“well,  i feel very out of my element right now.   don’t look towards the pool table.   strange things happening over there,”   he laughs softly,  for the first time since they left the ice skating rink.   a look of surprise overtaking his features when she decides to trust him and takes his hand,  lengthy fingers curling around her own,  squeezing gently,  apologetically.   their surroundings are…   eerie,  to say the least.   and there’s so much cigarette smoke in the air that alex can barely breathe without coughing,  but he smiles at helena all the same.   “the only thing that actually does look great here,  and it tastes good,  too.”   he takes another sip,  letting the sweet,  fruity beverage linger a little longer on his tongue before swallowing.   he didn’t think it could be this delicious,  not in a place that looks like a drug den.   “i always say that virgin drinks taste way better than the spiked ones.   i mean,  who genuinely likes the taste of vodka or tequila or something?   gross.”   he grimaces,  licking some of the sugar off the rim.   

by the time he sets the glass back on the bar,  half of its contents is gone,  and his eyes are focused solely on helena.   watching with sheer fascination as she rummages through her kits and offering,   “can i help you take care of that cut?”   he reaches a hesitant hand out,  tucking the strands of hair that got pulled out of her braid behind her ear.   the bow is barely hanging on and so he carefully removes and places it on the counter in front of her.   “what’s that?”   he wonders,  taken aback by her kindness,  shaking his head because he feels like he doesn’t deserve it but turning to face her at the same time.   there are tears in his eyes again,  and if she asks,  he’ll blame them on the smoke but it’s just…   these little acts of kindness make his heart beat differently.   “why are you so good to me?”   he whispers,  pouting to expose the cut to her fingers.   “you know,  this is technically the second time you’re tending to my injuries.   hopefully,  there won’t be a third.”

did he really just go about admitting that? the words still rotating inside helena's mind at the fact he's turned another shade and she has to dwell on this drastic switch up. mind torn in even more conflicted places, she wonders how she's supposed to forgive him but obviously she can't discredit him for admitting the reasonings why he had to act like that towards her, but why did he have to at all? brows scrunched, dwelling while they're pulling up to the spot he picks. "it is a hammer. a mini one. i thought i'd need it for . . ." multi-purposes. "breaking a hole in the window?" or the door, if she really had to. "are you? so would i. if–– i actually went to bars more often." an awkward laugh, staring out her window, eyes growing sadder at the katy perry song that can provoke a lot of emotions whether one can relate or not.

once he leaves his side of the car, helena turns to reach back into the backseat of the mustang. taking her purple makeup bag AND first-aid kit box out from underneath the seat, shifting back around, the buckle clicks and her seatbelt flies off. flinching at the surprise of her door coming open, raven haired girl halts momentarily, brown eyes falling on his hand . . . gaping at it like it was a surreal thing and not just an offered hand.

eventually, after her brief pause, she moves and her feet touch the ground. taking the hand and standing up from her seat, "thanks." smiling in surprise, she'll definitely have to take care of his lip, hopefully something will be in her box. "wow, check out this place." glancing around her surroundings, certainly nothing she's ever been used to. her dad would be furious right now. some suspicious looking burly men in each corner, crass women over by the pool table, she quickly looks away from when the motorcycle biker guy behind her has his hands all over her and helena's eyesight goes right to it. setting up her work station once alex helps her sit, opening the first aid kit and makeup box, she's digging into the first aid when the drinks are placed down. surprisingly appearing delicious. "that looks really good." eagerly taking it, before pausing, is she really trusting they didn't put something in her drink though? hardly . . . but what's one more risk tonight. "yeah, WHAT a night." the strawberry flavor easily becomes addicting so she's taking another sip before pausing on it for a bit. "your lip could definitely use some of this." pulling out the neosporin lip ointment, squeezing some onto her finger tip, "here." helena announces, waiting for him to turn towards her.

[all-our-turf]

honey, you're familiar (like my mirror years ago)

Fox is unsure about her place among the Warriors. Swan understands that more than anyone.

--

Read under the cut or on ao3

+++++

When Swan came home to a quiet apartment, she didn’t think much of it initially. She knew Cochise and Cowgirl had managed to convince Rembrandt to go out with them, which means Ajax likely went along too. Cleon mentioned that she’d be out for a meeting, and when Swan peered down the hallway she noticed the light to Fox’s room was off, so she figured Cleon had taken the younger girl with her. 

Fox had only been around for nearly three months now - hadn’t even been officially initiated yet - and Cleon seemed to be determined to keep her close for the time being, despite the girl’s protests about wanting to be more involved in the gang. 

Except, when Cleon came in through the front door half an hour later, she was alone. Swan was on her feet in half a second, and Cleon raised a curious eyebrow at her, casually shedding her colors and draping them over the back of a chair. 

“What? Did I -” 

“Where’s Fox?” 

Cleon went still, staring blankly at Swan. “She’s not here?”

Swan turned back down the hallway and knocked - slammed, really - on Fox’s door. “Fox! You home?” 

No response. 

When she turned back around, Cleon was already shrugging her vest back on. “I’ll go check if she managed to convince the others to let her tag along at the bar. Go look for her in any of the other usual hangouts.” 

Swan nodded, trying to ignore the anxious pit in her stomach as she donned her own colors and locked the door behind them. If it was just Cowgirl and Cochise, she wouldn’t be surprised if Fox managed to get them to take her along. Fox had a killer pout and (unfortunately for all of them) knew how to use it effectively. 

But there was no way in hell that Ajax would let Fox anywhere near that place while she was underage. Hell, even when Swan was old enough it still took a fight for Ajax to let her come along. Fox - who was small and pretty and still looked like she’d fall over at the slightest gust of wind, even after three months with the Warriors? No chance. 

Swan was just starting to feel the edges of panic creep up on her when she finally found Fox. The girl was near the edge of their turf, arguing with a guy nearly double her size. He was affiliated, judging by the jacket he was wearing, but Swan didn’t recognize the colors. She didn’t really care at the moment. 

Swan was at Fox’s side in half a second, and the guy cut off mid sentence at the sight of her. 

“Hey. We got a problem?” She placed herself in between him and Fox, tilting her chin up to glare up at him. He took a step back. 

“He was on our turf,” Fox explained from behind her, and Swan tilted her head to the side. 

“Fucking barely! I didn’t even realize I’d crossed over, but she was already coming at me!” He threw his hands up, gesturing wildly towards Fox over her shoulder. 

“Why are you still here? You didn’t realize this was Warrior turf, now you know, so fuck off.” 

He hesitated.

“Unless there is a problem?” Swan took another step towards him, raising a challenging eyebrow, and he immediately backed off. He stalked away, grumbling under his breath. Swan kept her eyes on his retreating back until he was gone, and then whirled around to stare at Fox, who looked way too nonchalant for someone who Swan had just spent the better part of an hour looking for. 

“I could’ve handled that,” Fox tried with an innocent smile. 

Swan was distinctly not in the mood. “Fox. What the fuck are you doing?” 

“Patrolling.” 

“No the fuck you aren’t.” Swan pinched the bridge of her nose, taking a breath and trying to calm down before she snapped a little too harshly. “What the hell were you thinking, sneaking off like that without telling anyone? What if something had happened to you? What if that guy decided to -” 

“That guy was a wimp,” Fox scoffed, crossing her arms defiantly. 

“God, you sound like Ajax,” Swan groaned. 

“Really?” Fox seemed a little too excited at that. 

“That is not a compliment, quit smiling. You should not be picking fights for no reason like Ajax does, that’s -”

“It wasn’t for no reason! He was on our turf!” 

“He was one guy on the very edge of our turf. And that isn’t even the point, considering you aren’t supposed to be out here at all! Kid, -”

“I’m not a kid!” 

“Sure, you’re a teenager who should not be out at this hour, especially not alone this fucking close to the edge of our territory. Cleon’s going to -” 

“You’re a hypocrite!” 

“Excuse me?” 

“Weren’t you even younger than I am when you joined the Warriors?”

“Yeah, and Cleon didn’t let me out alone either! You can’t just -” 

“You guys aren’t my parents, I can go out whenever the fuck I want!” 

Swan blinked, raising a disbelieving eyebrow. “Maybe we’re not, but -”

“And I shouldn’t have to ask for permission every time I step foot outside the apartment! And -” 

“Fox! Can I get a word in without you fucking interrupting me?” That definitely came out harsher than Swan meant it to, judging by the way Fox’s mouth snapped shut immediately. The younger girl was glaring at Swan, and Swan took another carefully measured breath. 

“Okay. First of all, I don’t give a shit how old you are, if you go out somewhere at night, especially alone, then you tell someone. That has nothing to do with you, and everything to do with the fact that we’re in a gang, and sometimes shit happens, and when shit happens there needs to be at least one other person who knows where you are. Got it?” 

Fox looked away, glaring at a spot on the ground instead, but grudgingly nodded anyway. 

“Second of all, you definitely shouldn’t be out doing anything like patrolling unless Cleon asks you to. None of us decide to do that shit on our own, so why the hell would you think it’s a good idea?” 

“Cleon won’t even send me out with anyone! It’s been almost three months and I’ve barely gotten to actually do anything for the Warriors! None of you treat me like I’m actually one of you!” 

“Is that what this is about?” Swan tilted her head to the side, some of her frustration fading into concern.

Fox shrugged, her crossed arms now wrapping around her middle. She sighed, sitting at a bench and staring down at her knees. Swan watched how she seemed to curl into herself, and sat down carefully at Fox’s side. 

“Fox?”

“I was just alone in the apartment and I didn’t like it, okay? I’m not allowed to join whenever you guys go out to the bars and hangout, I’m not allowed to join whenever you guys go on jobs, and even when I do get to go it’s like -” She made a frustrated noise in the back of her throat. “I’m tired of feeling like the kid you’re all stuck babysitting.”

Swan felt an ache bloom in her chest, something painfully familiar echoing in Fox’s words. “That’s not what we think of you as.” 

“But it’s how you all treat me. I’m not - I’m not fragile, you know?” Fox rubbed furiously at her eyes, trying to scrub the wetness away before it got a chance to slip down her cheeks. 

“Of course I know that. We all do. You’re tough, Fox. And crazy smart, too. We’re not stuck with you, you are one of us, but - you just have to give yourself time.” 

Fox’s mouth twisted in displeasure, unconvinced. 

“Look,” Swan said. “I get how hard it is being the youngest in the group. Like you said, I’ve been in your position. I know it sucks.” 

“It’s not the same,” Fox scoffed and shook her head. “You’re - you’re you. You’re all intimidating and badass and I’m me. It’s been three months and I don’t think anyone sees me as anything other than the stray picked off the street.” 

Swan stared at the teenager, disbelief creeping into her expression. “You haven’t heard the story of how the Warriors found me?” 

Fox looked up curiously, furrowing her brow. “No? I know that until I came along you were the only one who joined up as a teenager, but…”

“Oh my god, and you think-?” Swan cut herself off with an amused chuckle, turning to fully face Fox, whose face was twisted in confusion. “Fox, I was in worse shape than you were. Cleon found me sleeping under the boardwalk, practically half dead already. I was smaller than Rembrandt and scared out of my mind. It took me nearly two weeks to even say a word to anyone.” 

“Wait, are you serious? But - but now you’re so..!” Fox trailed off, making an ambiguous gesture towards Swan. “I mean, you’re Cleon’s number two. You can keep up with Ajax in a fight!” 

Swan shrugged. “But it took time, Fox. Cleon didn’t make my position official until I earned it. And I spent a lot of sessions getting my ass kicked by Ajax before I could even land a punch on her. I get that it’s frustrating, I know how badly you want to prove yourself, but just…be patient, yeah? With yourself and with us, and eventually, you’ll be just as much of a badass as you seem to think I am.” 

That pulled a smile out of Fox, and Swan felt like she could breathe a little easier again. 

“You really think so?” Fox stared at her with watery eyes, big and earnest and, god, so young. “You really think I’ll be like you someday?” 

Jesus, was this how Cleon felt when she was a recruit? 

“No.” Swan shook her head. “I think you’ll be better. And I think the Warriors are very lucky to have you.” 

Fox grinned, a bright smile stretching across her face for a moment, but then it dimmed again and she looked back down at her hands. 

“I’m sorry for running off. Did I ruin everyone’s night?” She sounded painfully small, picking at the edges of her fingernails. 

“No - Fox, you didn’t ruin anything, okay?” Fox nodded, but it was clear she wasn’t very reassured. 

“Listen,” Swan nudged her arm gently. “I’ll talk to Cleon, see if I can get her to ease up on the overprotectiveness a little. But only if you promise not to pull something like this again, okay? You freaked us out - not because we think you’re weak. But because we look out for each other. That’s what we do as Warriors.”

Fox inhaled shakily, nodding her head again. “Yeah, okay. I won’t do this again, I promise. You’ll seriously talk to Cleon, though?” 

“Believe me, I know how overbearing she can be sometimes. She still drives me crazy every now and then, and I know she’s been worse with you. So yeah, I’ll talk to her, see about letting you come along for more jobs. Just - it’s important that you know she’s only like this because she cares about you. All of us do.” Swan reached out, affectionately patting the top of Fox’s head and ruffling her hair. “Your time will come, Fox, I promise. It won’t feel like this forever.” 

Fox half heartedly batted her hand away, but the beaming smile across her face and the way her shoulders seemed about twenty pounds lighter told Swan that she was feeling better. 

“Come on, kid. Let’s go home before the others lose their minds.” 

“So when are you guys gonna quit calling me kid?” Fox whined as the two of them began walking back. 

“Up until you came along, the others were still calling me kid. I’m just glad it’s not me anymore.” 

“What - but you’re old now! Is this nickname gonna be stuck forever?” 

“Hey, what the fuck? I’m not old, we only have a couple of years between us.” 

And even as Fox launched into an explanation as to why Swan was, in fact, old, Swan couldn’t help but smile, grateful that the girl was in a much better mood than earlier. Fox brought a brightness that the Warriors desperately needed. Maybe she wasn’t sure where exactly she’d fit yet, but that was okay. Fox was still young. 

They had time. 

[whirlingstarz]

Robotnik’s & Family in The Sonic Movies:

A analysis summary(?)/rant

Spoilers for the Sonic Movies!

“I connected the dots!” “You didn’t connect shit” me to myself

Have you noticed that anyone who finds family in a Robotnik gets punished for it leading to further trauma? Let me explain,

Gerald found family in Maria | Shadow found family in Maria | Stone found family in Ivo | Ivo found family in Gerald

Maria died because of her association with Shadow & Gerald, I mean if she was never put in the care of Gerald she wouldn’t even have been at the base. (Don’t be mad at me for this take pls) -Leading Gerald & Shadow to plot revenge as we know

It is implied; because of the effect Maria’s death, Ivo was neglected by his family to some extent leading to him growing up in an orphanage.

Ivo then had a harsh childhood, leading him to be the man he is; Stone found family in Ivo because of who he his, Stone loves him (I will die on that hill) just being himself

Ivo thought he had found family in Gerald, he thought that biology was the only way to have a family (so smart and doesn’t even know what found family is? 😔) he grew up with the notion that the only people who could love him were his blood family due to his harsh life growing up. Gerald at that point was only bent on vengeance and didn’t even see Ivo as any kind of family.

Gerald did what he did because of Maria - Ivo did what he did because of Gerald (not directly but hear me out) - Stone did what he did because of Ivo - Shadow did what he did because of Maria - and in the end; Ivo did what he did because of Stone - and Shadow did what he did because of Maria a long cycle

Gerald loved Maria, Shadow loved Maria, Stone loved Ivo, Ivo loved Gerald (or thought he did)/Ivo loved Stone

But this family (The Robotnik’s) is a tragic one;

Gerald lost the only person he loved, Shadow lost the only person he loved, his only family, the one person who saw him for who he was | Ivo grew up alone and angry, and was betrayed in the end by Gerald: loosing what shot he had a family (he thought), and died for the family he recognized too late | Stone lost everything, his only family, the person he loved

Aka they ALL: Lost the only family they had, the people that loved them and saw them for who they were, their worlds

Anyone who loves a Robotnik gets punished

Change my mind. Every. Single. One. Gerald got punished for loving Maria, Shadow got punished for loving Maria, Ivo got punished for loving Gerald, Stone got punished for loving Ivo

WHAT THE F*CK MAN

why is this family cursed oml

Also this is a summary of my thoughts on this so if y’all want me to go and write a 5k word analysis on this tell me so I can start because dude it’s INSANE

also I’m so sorry if this is incoherent I had to get my thoughts out of my head

[moosesarecute]

Chapter 13: The Shadow to my Flame

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

Azriel was having a hard time.

He had, together with Rhys and Cass, explained to Mor and Amren that they had let Ashe not only into the Night Court, but also into Velaris.

When they had started explaining that Ashe was a Vanserra, Mor had become…distant. It didn’t take long for her to get into self-defence mode. He didn’t blame her for that, of course, but he wished they had gone about explaining it in a kinder way.

Amren agreed and had given him and his brothers many disappointed looks afterwards.

Azriel was also doing bad, because he hadn’t seen Ashe in over a week.

Samli and Thord had come up with the idea that Ashe would live with them, to try to not overwhelm her with all the changes. Azriel agreed that it was a good idea, but he hated not being able to help her.

So, he had been sneaking into her room after Thord and Samli had gone into bed to try to talk with her. She had grown quieter for each time he visited, and he got a worse and worse feeling of worry for each time he left.

But for the last week, Ashe hadn’t been in her room when he visited. Azriel took that as a sign she needed space, but he still let his shadows follow her.

They gave him updates about how she every night, snuck off and burned and burned and burned. She never did any harm, unless you count the trees she burned down, but she was growing more and more exhausted for each night.

Azriel had to admit that he was worried about her. Of course he was, she was his mate, he was supposed to worry. But he forced himself to stay away.

That was until his hands started hurting more than usual and his shadows informed him that she had burned her hands badly. They whispered about how she lost control for just a little and how her hands now were full of blisters.

His mind was brought right back to his younger self. He barely managed to pull himself out of his head before he got a panic attack.

Azriel used his worry to first pick up some bandages and cooling cream before he shadow-walked to where the shadows told him his Ashe was.

She was seated leaning against a tree and breathing heavily when he arrived. Her eyes widened just a little when she saw him and then she abruptly stood up. She was shaking and it was visible that she had been crying.

He slowly made his way towards her.

“I brought-”

“Don’t come closer,” she said. He had never heard her voice sounding more panicked. He stopped at her words. “You need to leave.”

Her shaking became worse and Azriel saw how she tightened her hands to try to ease the pain.

“I’m just here to help, Flame,” he answered and took another step towards her. Ashe reacted by taking a step away from him. “I have some cooling cream for your hands.”

She shook her head once more. Tears again begun to flow.

“I’ll hurt you. You have to leave,” her voice sounded even more panicked and urgent.

Hurt him? She could never hurt him.

He furrowed his brows at her words.

“You could never hurt me Ashe. Please, I just want to help you. See!” He held up the cooling cream and bandages. “I know you hurt your hands. These will help you.”

He knew by that terrified look on her face that he wouldn’t get any closer to her that night. He moved slowly as he put the cream and bandages on the ground.

“I’m here for you if you need me Ashe,” he said and he surprised himself when he heard the shakiness in his voice. Was he going to cry? He held the tears in, but he could see how Ashe definitely understood that he was getting emotional. “It will be better eventually.”

He stood straight and was about to move away, when Ashe took a small step towards him. She stopped herself after just one step. She looked terrified about what she had just done, but Azriel got hope.

He looked hopeful at her, waiting for her to make another move.

“I can help you, Ashe,” he said again and slowly lifted his foot to take a step towards her.

“No,” she almost yelled at him. “You can’t help. No one can help. Please, leave. You must leave.”

“Ashe, please-”

“LEAVE!”

One moment the forest was shining in the light from the moon, the next it was lit up by the fire that accidently left Ashe’s hands.

It was a thin, soft flame. It didn’t hurt as it hit Azriel’s hand. He got surprised by it, but it didn’t hurt. It almost felt comforting. It felt like his own shadows, but a little warmer. It wasn’t burning hot like the fire from wood. It was alive and felt safe.

However, Ashe didn’t realize he felt it that way. She looked like she had seen a ghost. That was until she got a little green tint in her cheeks.

She winnowed away before she threw up.

Azriel knew he had fucked up.

He had been in his room at the House of Wind for an hour. His shadows were covering him and the entire room. He wouldn’t be surprised if he learned that they were seeping out into the corridor.

What in the cauldron was he going to do?

He could feel all of Ashe’s terror and guilt. It overwhelmed the mother out of him. He was bawling his eyes out. He couldn’t remember last time he cried that much.

He needed to a plan to help Ashe. Firstly, he needed a plan to make Ashe tell him what she was struggling with. He had spent over an hour trying to come up with something, but the only thing he got was Rhys forcing it out of her brain, which didn’t seem like a good idea for her to trust him, or having his shadows follow her for every second of every day.

But they already did, and he still didn’t know what to do.

A soft knock on his door made his shadows stop covering him. They went to the opposite side of the room and swirled in a big black blob.

“Can I speak to you?”

It was Mor.

He got up from his bed and opened the door for her to come through. Mor’s eyes widened when she saw Azriel’s blood red eyes. He tried to rub the worst out, but it didn’t help much.

They sat down on his bed and Mor begun speaking.

“Rhys explained Ashe’s life. How she had no clue she was a Vanserra. I overreacted and I hurt you by not letting you explain, I’m sorry.”

Two hours ago, Azriel would have appreciated the apology, but right now it felt so insignificant. He had such bigger problems to fix.

He muttered a small thank you and expected Mor to leave. But she didn’t.

“I’m not going to leave you when it is so visible that you have been crying your eyes out. What’s going on?”

He knew she wasn’t going to leave until he told her, so he just started speaking. He always found it hard to explain things, so it took some time, but she eventually understood.

“So she burned you?”

“Yes, but no. It didn’t hurt. It didn’t leave a mark. It was almost soft.”

“But you flinched because you got surprised, and she thinks she hurt you? And then she left before you could explain?”

He only nodded.

“You care a lot about this female, don’t you?” Mor spoke extremely softly.

“She’s my mate.”

Mor looked at him both surprised and happy. None of them had mates. They didn’t even know many mates that actually liked each other, other than Miryam and Drakon.

Azriel felt honoured to have a mate, but at the same time he had never felt so lost in his entire life. He wanted someone to tell him what to do, but no one knew. No one had experienced what he was going through.

“You could explain it to her, you know. Explain it, not with words, but show her that she didn’t hurt you. Her fire is different because you obviously care for her, so show her the difference between her fire and other fire.”

It was the best idea Azriel could hear, so he started working.

Ashe was poisoned by her own mind.

She was a danger to the people around her. Or at least that is what she told herself. For each day, she noticed more and more details that gave away that she was his daughter. And for each detail, she got even more need to shut down her powers.

He flinched.

Ashe saw it every time she closed her eyes. And every time she saw it, she got more motivated to lose her powers.

If she didn’t, she would become him.

That’s how she ended up wandering through the sketchier parts of Velaris. That’s how she met with the drug dealer. And last, that’s how she got hold of the faebane.

Ashe knew it was stupid, she knew it was dangerous and potentially lethal, but if she didn’t do it, she would become lethal.

She started small. Only taking a pinch of the powder and adding it to her water. It tasted earthy and dry, but she got it down. However, she could still use her powers, so a few hours later, she took some more. Relief washed over her together with the nausea when she no longer could use her fire.

Good.

No fire = no danger to others

But then, after a few hours, she could again light her candle. So, she drank some more.

She felt like a thick cloud had laid over her. It held her mind tightly and it was highly uncomfortable. All her limbs felt heavy to move. Even lifting her eyebrows was a struggle. She began to cold sweat and uncontrollably shake, but it meant that she was safer for anybody else.

She looked down at her burned hands. She hadn’t let them heal completely before she started with the faebane. They would leave scars, but she deserved it. Azriel had similar scars, and she had hurt him, so she would experience the same amount of pain.

Samli and Thord were as loving as usual. They gave her food and hugs when she needed it. They asked why she was smelling so earthy but accepted her answer when she told them she had been spending a lot of time outside.

They were visibly worried but listed to her when she said she needed some space.

But she didn’t want space. She wanted to be held and comforted. She wanted someone to explain why the hell her life had taken such a turn and help her to see herself as herself and not him. She wanted to be loved and taken care off, but she was too much of a danger, so she couldn’t let anyone close enough.

She had proven that she wasn’t safe to be around. He had hurt Azriel. She had hurt the person she cared the most about. If she wasn’t safe to Azriel, she wouldn’t be safe to anyone else either.

Azriel had felt the bond growing quieter and quieter. When it got silent for the first time, he was sure Ashe was dead. He had completely lost it. He sent all his shadows to her and was almost on his way when the shadows told him that she was okay and safe.

Azriel was on edge for the rest of the day. He realized, after doing some studying about mating bonds, that he probably just closed her side without realizing it.

But then she didn’t open it. Not for days. Azriel had to admit he was worried. It did help a little when his brothers teased him for being to paranoid, but at the same time he just needed her to tell him that she was okay.

His brothers had been awful. They were only teasing him. Saying that he was whipped or wrapped around her finger. They weren’t wrong. Azriel wished his brothers were lucky enough to have mates, if only just so Azriel could tease them back.

It had been three days after the fire incident when Azriel was finally ready to explain. He had been practicing for three days, but he also wished for Ashe to have some time. He didn’t want to push her. If she told him to leave, he would.

Samli opened the door when he knocked.

“Please, be gentle with her,” she said. “I think she’s doing a lot worse than what she’s letting on.”

He nodded and promised to be gentle. He didn’t think he could ever be something else with her.

He knocked on her bedroom door and she opened after a while.

She had huge undereye circles and she looked exhausted. It felt like someone had stabbed Azriel. He just wanted her to be alright. Tears pressed on his eyes.

Ashe moved and let him into her room.

Azriel remembered laughing when he first saw her huge bed made for Illyrian wings. He had gotten hopeful that maybe one day, he would sleep in it with her. Now, it only felt like it was haunting him.

It looked like it only had been slept in a few times.

“I’m sorry,” Ashe spoke. Cauldron, her voice sounded weak. Azriel turned to look at her and saw that she was even paler than usual. What was going on? “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I-”

“You didn’t,” he started. “You didn’t hurt me. I just got surprised.”

He was about to start the explanation he had been practicing for the last three days, when he smelled it.

He noticed how her sweet smell was sour. How it didn’t give him the comfort it usually did. It only made him anxious.

He stopped and told himself it couldn’t be.

That was until his shadows drew his attention to a small jar that stood on Ashe’s desk.

He moved swiftly towards it and Ashe didn’t even have time to protest before he had opened it and smelled the faebane.

He felt chills going done his body. Had she been poisoning herself?

He looked over to her and she looked even paler than before. Her mouth was open, and she looked like she was trying to explain, but that she couldn’t.

“When did you get this?”

“Three days ago.”

He was going to puke. She had gotten it after she sent fire towards him.

“Was it full?”

“Yes.”

That’s a lot of faebane.

Azriel didn’t even try to hold back his protective instincts.

He dropped the lid back onto the jar and immediately moved back to Ashe. He didn’t let her protest as he embraced her so tightly. He also didn’t bother holding back his tears.

His mate had felt so low, felt so dangerous, that she poisoned herself. For three day. And he hadn’t noticed.

“Never again,” his shadows told him, and he agreed.

“Please, Ashe. I’m not letting you do this anymore. I’m going to help you. You can’t scare me away. I won’t leave you. I don’t care if you tell me to leave, okay? I’m going to stay, and you’ll have to find a way to deal with it. Okay?”

Her shoulders shaking told him that she was crying silently. He soon felt her tears soke his shirt. He only held her tighter.

She drew a breath and said something. But it was so quiet and full of sobs that not even his shadows heard it. He started stroking her hair in a hope it would calm her sobs a little. However, it only made her cry more.

“What did you say?” he whispered into her ear.

“Please, stay.”

Hope filled his heart.

“I’ll stay forever.”

Madja had given her a quite harsh talking to about how stupid she was. And even though Azriel felt the need to protect her from all the harshness of the world, Ashe’s eyes seemed more aware than it had since she got to the Night Court.

Madja had gotten all the poison out, but Ashe would remain weak and sick for a couple of days. She had dressed Ashe’s hands and given her an even bigger supply of cooling cream than earlier.

Azriel had held Ashe’s hand the entire time. He wouldn’t ever want to let go, but if he had wished to do so, he couldn’t. Ashe was holding him so tightly. It was like she was scared he would leave if she let go.

He needed her to know that he wouldn’t leave. Not now, not ever.

Samli and Thord had dinner ready for both of them when they got back from the healers. They apologized that they hadn’t noticed how bad Ashe was doing and then they told them how happy they were no permanent damage had been done.

Ashe only played with her food. She was deep in her thoughts and Azriel hoped she wasn’t spiralling deeper.

After dinner, he carried her up to her room. She had tried to walk, but even walking on the flat floor was too hard for her currently weak body.

Azriel adored having her in his arms, and even though he was overwhelmed and stressed, he couldn’t help but hope that it wouldn’t be the last time he carried her to her bedroom. He only hoped it was because of other reasons.

His shadows helped him lifting the duvet as he laid her down into the bed. She sunk into the mattress and Azriel realized how he loved seeing her relaxed. She was blinking lazily and Azriel had to smile at her.

He tucked her in tightly together with the shadows. It was a high possibility she would experience some fever throughout the night, so he didn’t want her to freeze.

He brushed the hair away from her face and watched how she closed her eyes and then, they stayed closed. He lifted her hand that had been holding his since before they went to the healer, and he kissed it softly.

Azriel then stood up and carefully let go of her hand. He moved quietly to the door when the cutest voice he had ever heard stopped him.

“Where you going?” Ashe asked him. He could hear how tried she was, but some panic still bloomed through her words. When he turned, she had almost sat up in the bed, only leaning down on one of her arms.

“I was going to let you sleep.”

He looked over at her and saw how tears started to fall. He immediately got the intense need to hurt anything that had ever hurt her. He moved over, sat down on the bed and dried some of her tears.

“What’s going on? Are you in pain? Do you need anything?”

She sniffed a little before she spoke.

“You said you would stay.”

Azriel felt relived. She had gotten him to think something was terribly wrong. But he saw how devastated she looked at the thought of being left and realized that to her, him leaving probably was something being terribly wrong.

“I’ll stay, my Flame.”

She nodded seriously and then moved over, picked up the duvet and grabbed his hand once again.

Her seriousness was only displayed as adorable in Azriel’s mind, but he laid down next to her. She then lifted his arm and laid it around her waist before she moved closer and closer to Azriel. He then covered them both with his wing.

Her amber eyes were almost glowing in the night light.

Azriel begun stroking her hair once more and it didn’t take long before she was snoring not so softly.

His mate snored.

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[theogbadbitch]

I just knew this meeting would be HELL.

“Terry’s noticed” she says using his first name which is a rarity in this place. “ I knew it😭 exactly why he’s so adamant on her taking that damn promotion he wants to know why she avoids him so much

“Gordon, how do I look-” Richmonds baritone crescendos as he looks up from his watch. “ Not this??😭😭😭😭

“I’m here to answer any questions you may have. I’m open to discussion” It’s not anything to discuss really, either she takes the promotion or she’s fired😭

“My day has just started and I haven’t had time to read anything over” I add and he takes out his tablet confirming my words as truth. It only confirms he's a control freak, to be tracking email opens.” He’s insane 😭 like no way he this strict

“In case I have HR specific questions…” I explain and he tosses his tablet onto the coffee table making a crash. I sit back and his nostrils flare. “ SO tense 😭 they really need to be discussing his problem with HER.

“What’s your problem with me?” He asks.” Oop here we go

“Your temper” I blurt out before my brain can stop me. My cantor takes him by surprise too. “ ⏰ it

“Get out!” he demands, his voice reverberating through the glass office.” Nigga no wonder she doesn’t like you??? Why are you yelling at 9AM????

“No! I’m not a dog, I won't be spoken to that way!” I stand my ground.” I’m glad because somebody gotta say something back to him or he won’t learn that he can’t talk to people crazy

“You’ve asked me to self-regulate but unless you get out of my face I'm going to continue to speak to you however I choose.” …..

When I say I wouldn’t last 10 minutes at this damn company.

“Finally those big ears listen” I quip going low. His eyes shoot open in shock as I get up and head to the door.” OH GIRLFDSSOOO—

“Do it your damn self!” I snap snatching the cords from Cassandra's docking station.” This escalated quickly 😭

“I’ll do you one better; I QUIT” I know that’s right

“I’ll be out in the next hour, don't send me an off-boarding survey. I quit because the Boss is an asshole!” Lorence not wrong for crashing out, he’s definitely insane

Poor Cassandra just caught in the middle of the chaos 😭😭😭

“I swear I see the asshole smirking as the elevator doors shut.” A sick man

“I put in my password fully expecting the file to go blank but it doesn’t.” So the offer is still on the table after she cussed him out….

SN: WHY was he so worried about how he looks??? And why the hell is the offer STILL on the table with more money offered???

Oh I definitely got his tea

004 | Richmond Inc.

「 ✦ full library & archive ✦ 」

「 ✦ aaron pierre & characters library ✦ 」

⇚ 003

♠ authors note: the first part of this chapter was meant to be at the end of 003, I hope it doest interrupt your reading flow.

♠ summary: Mr. Richmond and Lorence have their meeting. This ones messy 🌪️.

♠ pairing: Terry Richmond (Aaron Pierre - Rebel Ridge) X Lorence Cole (Black Fem OC)

♠ word-count: ~2.2K

⌖ - St. Moritz, Switzerland

I send Joel a text and meet him on the enclosed rooftop. The view is one of one.

“You really know how to get under the boss's skin kid” he sighs, swirling around whisky in his glass.

“What I do”

“I had orders to inform you of our discussion. Now Rich thinks I didn’t speak to you”

“Sorry, I was cornered in an elevator”

“Well, face him sooner than later. Rip off the bandaid” Joel sighs.

“How was today? How many calls?” I ask.

“Thirty inquiries,” he smiles. “Even if the boss only chooses fifteen new contracts, that's a nice check for our team. I’m telling you you’re a natural.” Joel says but he’s always had faith in me.

“Thanks, I’m sorry I got you in trouble”

“I know, you know I love you kid don’t worry about it” he sighs getting up.

“Get some sleep” he says standing with a hand outreached for me. We make our back to the rooms and he walks me to mine. I send my loved ones goodnight messages and drift away.

…

Unfortunately I rise early without being well rested. The clock reads its five thirty in the morning. My internal alarm is so well set that there’s no resistance even abroad. Discipline keeps me going through the motions instead of motivation because there's a huge lack of that. My nerves skyrocket and I decide to stick to my routine. I reconsider using the gym today and have the equipment I need brought to me in my room. I’ll buy all the time in the world not to bump into him before nine. For the first time in my adult life meditation doesn’t bring me clarity. It’s unsettling and I wonder how Mr. Richmond rattles me so deeply. From our first meeting there was some friction. I’d spent a few weeks hearing Joel sing his praises while my colleagues of the fairer sex ‘oohed’ and ‘awed’ about how handsome he was. When he walked onto our floor a hush cut across the cubicles. All I could see then was his complexion, a side profile of facial hair and curls. The minute he was in his office a frenzy started all around me. Everyone was preparing presentations and reports just-in-case. Then there was the constant flow of colleagues into the ladies room to spruce themselves up. The lipstick tubes were being twisted, powder patted one, lashes curled, blowouts scheduled during lunch the whole nine yards.

That first time in Mr. Richmonds office was the only occasion I wasn’t rattled with nerves but it didn't last long. It was the Boss, his barber, Joel and myself. He glared at Joel before looking at me with a dissatisfied expression and outreaching his hand. There wasn’t a welcome or any fanfare, just a hello. His grip was firm and his hands far larger than mine radiating heat without being clammy. I sat there waiting my turn to speak as Joel presented my findings. I watched as Richmond was transformed from scruffy operative to the clean cut CEO right before my eyes. Still I kept my composure and presented my findings. Mr. Richmonds disposition then turned antagonistic as he probed and probed and probed trying to find fault with my research concepts. When there were none to be found he didn't smile and end the angry boss charade like I'd hoped. He gave a curt nod and told me it was good work in a flat tone.

Since then, I’ve given him a wide breadth at every opportunity. I’ve passed up on several opportunities to be in his presence and rub shoulders with him. It’s been almost three years and I don't understand why things have to change now. I’ve enjoyed maintaining a professional distance and avoiding his tirades. Increased proximity will surely erode all of the defences I had set in place and that's not what I need. I quit my morning meditations prematurely and decide on a walk outdoors hoping the movement will help clear my head, hoping the cold will bring some clarity but it doesn't. I return inside and skip breakfast opting for a hot steamy shower. The bathroom gets as cloudy as my thoughts. I turn on the dehumidifying fan and wipe the mirror. The eyes staring back at me are swimming with uneasiness, a deer in the headlights. Not liking my reflection I get my outfit ready for the day. I do my body care routine before my make-up and then slip into my outfit before letting down my hair.

Business, bombshell, barbie; is what it’s giving today. It's a ruse, a fake it till you make it, moment. Maybe if I present like the admins he won't see me as a contender for the director position. Fastening my watch on my wrist I see I have thirty minutes to spare. I make my way to his office for the interim. I walk over to the elevator and get in, hitting the button up one floor. One of my colleagues walks in with red eyes as I exit.

“Good luck” he swallows letting me know Richmond is on a warpath. I send him a sympathetic look making my way to where his secretary is stationed.

“Gordon” I greet and she smiles.

“I’ve told you a million times, call me Cassandra,” she smiles.

“Cassandra,” I amend.

“Lorence,” she smiles. “I hear I’ll be seeing a lot more of you - I’m excited there’s wayyy too much testosterone and serious characters among the executives” she whispers in a dark denim tailored canadian tuxedo.

“Where’d you hear that?” I ask and she rolls her eyes.

“I know everything” she winks, a stiletto nail on full display as she taps her temple with her pointer finger. It’s a cloak and dagger maneuver - Cassandra’s sharper than she looks and too many employees have fallen into her trap. She's Richmond Inc. Chris Hansen. Obviously there's an immense amount of trust between her and the boss.

“What’s it like working closely with Richmond?” I ask and she rolls her eyes.

“He’s a total asshole sometimes. But the man knows how to apologize well when the asshole can't be confined in that gargantuan frame” she says, openly mocking the boss. I snicker a little. “But usually he’s normal, fair, attentive, considerate,” she says. Cassandra’s the only person I’ve ever spoken to that has such a glowing review. I can't help but scoff.

“What’s that for? Has he yelled at you?” she asks, seeming genuinely upset at the prospect.

“No, I maintain my distance.” I tell her.

“Oh I know” she nods.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask.

“Terry’s noticed” she says using his first name which is a rarity in this place. I swallow hard, not excited by the revelation.

“Yay!” I remark unenthused.

Cassandra snickers. “Don’t be like that, he's good at everything he sets his mind to. I’m sure it’ll take him no time to learn the best way to work with you-” before she can say more his door opens and we look like a bunch of guilts gossips huddled close to each other with nothing more to say in his presence.

“Gordon, how do I look-” Richmonds baritone crescendos as he looks up from his watch. Cassandra and I straighten, and in an instant all the casual and playful energy is sucked out of the open space. Richmond straightens next before checking his watch.

A silent beat passes between the three of us.

“She’s early,” Cassandra quips. He swallows, sending her a glare but she doesn't cower plopping down into her seat seemingly defeated as she gets back to work.

“Cole” he steps back holding a hand out to his office. 

“Sir” I responded before leading the way. His cologne is an intoxicating mix of clean and masculine, while being a little dark. The room is large with an open concept, there are several seating arrangement options. To my surprise he motions to a sofa instead of the chair at his desk. I take my seat and he takes his, facing me, a coffee table between us. I cross my legs to the side, a habit from wearing skirts. I don’t dare look down into his sprawled legs and oversized thighs sitting in a dominant power pose. His words cross my mind again and I look him over. He looks fine, as usual. I wonder what that was about and look towards the door again. He clears his throat and I feel regret for how it probably looks as I look towards the door.

“Good morning” I greet him, trying to add some levity to the atmosphere.

“Morning” he responds, straightening slightly in his seat. “Well?” He asks.

“Well, what Sir?” I ask respectfully.

“You’ve spoken with Jameson about what’s on the table regarding your employment here. I’m here to answer any questions you may have. I’m open to discussion” he says with body language that reads anything but ‘open to discussion’.

“I was under the impression I had some time to decide,” I respond.

“Decide?” He asks like it’s absurd, like his offer is so good I shouldn’t refuse.

“My day has just started and I haven’t had time to read anything over” I add and he takes out his tablet confirming my words as truth. It only confirms he's a control freak, to be tracking email opens.

“Well then let’s do it now” he says tapping the screen and I hear the printer begin printing.

“Shouldn’t this be done in the presence of HR?” I ask and his eyes light.

“HR?” he repeats in question.

“In case I have HR specific questions…” I explain and he tosses his tablet onto the coffee table making a crash. I sit back and his nostrils flare. 

“Such as…” he responds. At a loss for words I shrug feeling like a mediator should be present already. “What’s your problem with me?” He asks.

“Your temper” I blurt out before my brain can stop me. My cantor takes him by surprise too. “I’m also insulted that instead of self-regulating you increase my therapy stipend” I add, since I’m already halfway to hell I might as well continue right?

“Self-regulating” he mutters and I’ve lit a fuse. He looks at me about going nuclear. “Get out!�� he demands, his voice reverberating through the glass office. I swallow while maintaining my composure. 

“No! I’m not a dog, I won't be spoken to that way!” I stand my ground. It’s a surprise to me too. The expression in Richmonds eyes and the hard set of his jaw confirms he’s surprised and incensed.

“You’ve asked me to self-regulate but unless you get out of my face I'm going to continue to speak to you however I choose.” he says with closed eyes. 

“Finally those big ears listen” I quip going low. His eyes shoot open in shock as I get up and head to the door.

“Rescind last night’s email to Mrs. Cole” he shouts standing once I’m out of the office. “Now!” He snaps at Cassandra from behind me. I turn to face him. “You’ve overestimated your importance and outplayed your hand” he snaps and somehow his restraint feels more seething than his tirades.

“Richmond” Cassandra interjects.

“Do IT!” he shouts, blowing my eardrums. Both Cassandra and I wince.

“Do it your damn self!” I snap snatching the cords from Cassandra's docking station.

“You’re suspended.” Richmond swallows, fighting for control.

“I’ll do you one better; I QUIT” I snap giving him a taste of his own medicine slamming my phone and laptop down on the marble desk top. I hope they’re broken. I take my work pass from my hip and add it to the pile with careless abandon. 

“Lorence” Cassandra says with a soft tone.

“I’ll be out in the next hour, don't send me an off-boarding survey. I quit because the Boss is an asshole!” I add having reached my boiling point after three years of being subject to his tyranny.

“I’ll call housekeeping to help you pack and find alternative accommodations” Cassandra relents picking up her phone. 

“Thank you” I nod, swallowing hard. I cast a hateful look over my shoulder at Richmond before heading into the elevator. I swear I see the asshole smirking as the elevator doors shut. I manage to keep it together through packing up my stuff and the entire ride to the airport's hotel but once I'm in my new accommodations I bawl.

Hours later I sit in first class on my flight home and see the email is still there in my personal inbox. I left all my work items in the hotel with Cassandra in spite of her protest. Nagging guilt, curiosity and the prospect of regret makes me open the file. I put in my password fully expecting the file to go blank but it doesn’t. I swallow seeing one million dollars listed under salary along with a list of perks that would make anyone envious. Everything would be the best of the very best and a road to early retirement no doubt. I sigh, closing the document and calling for some champagne. When my flight lands I head to my parents home instead of my own to lick my wounds and recover.

game reveal: those of you who chose 2 and 5 were very much accurate. thankfully, there was no 1. No 4 either, unless you've found a spot for it. If you don't know what I'm taking about check out my page between chapters to play the games I post with us: Richmond Inc. Game & Poll

authors note: thanks to all who played and everyone who's been reading and liking, voting & commenting. What did you think about this chapter? Did you expect it to go the way it did? Are we proud of Lorence?

click here to ✮ join taglist ✮ and be notified when new updates drop.

[benispunk]

Who's That Girl?

Chapter 21: Face The Music

So...they kissed...what's next?

logan howlett x reader

TW: language, D&W.

A/N: hey!! well here we are...this is the last chapter...enough talking for the moment!! enjoy this chapter! and I'll talk to you at the end!!

→ this fic is inspired by the TV Show New Girl, Wade and Logan aren't Deadpool and Wolverine (no powers/mutant gene etc) but I did take most of their character traits and storyline!!

Masterlist /Previous Part

Wade tugged on his sneakers, already picturing the smug look on that one guy’s face from his usual running route. He hated running into overly enthusiastic joggers—too much pep in the morning. Why do they look so happy running? He groaned as he headed for the kitchen, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

His brain was still half-asleep, running on autopilot until he spotted a figure at the counter.

At first, he didn’t fully register it. The smell of coffee wafted through the air, and someone was scrolling casually on their phone. But then it hit him—Logan. Logan was standing there. Logan.

Wade froze mid-step, blinking like he’d just spotted Bigfoot sipping an espresso. For the past several days, Logan had been the definition of now you see me, now you don’t. The man had been avoiding them, but of course mostly Y/N… He’d somehow mastered the art of slipping in and out of the apartment like a shadow, avoiding even the slightest contact. And yet, here he was.

Logan didn’t even glance up from his phone, sipping his coffee like it was any other day.

“Well, well, well,” Wade drawled, leaning against the doorway with crossed arms. “If it isn’t the ghost of roommates past. Long time no see, Peanut. What brings you out of the shadows? Forgot where the coffee pot was?”

Logan’s eyes flicked up briefly, his expression as stoic as ever. “Good morning to you too, bub,” he replied, voice calm but with the faintest hint of amusement.

It was that flicker—barely noticeable but there—that made Wade narrow his eyes. Something was off. Logan looked… lighter. Relaxed, even. As if the last few days hadn’t happened.

Wade squinted, stepping further into the kitchen. “Are you… okay?” he asked slowly, his suspicion growing by the second.

Logan shrugged, setting his phone down and taking another sip of his coffee. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Wade said, waving a hand dramatically. “Maybe because you’ve been pulling a Houdini act for the past week—and don’t say that’s not true!”

Logan rolled his eyes, but there was no real bite to it. If anything, he almost looked amused. That alone made Wade even more suspicious.

Before Wade could press further, soft footsteps approached from the hallway. He turned just in time to see Y/N step into the kitchen, her bag slung over her shoulder.

How was she going to react when she’ll see Logan there?! He knows it’s been hard on her. And he knows it’s mainly his fault for putting his foot in it.

What he didn’t expect was the bright expression on her face at the sight of him.

“Hey,” she said warmly, her gaze immediately finding Logan.

And that was when Wade noticed it.

The smile Logan gave her wasn’t just his usual polite acknowledgment. It was soft, warm, the kind of smile that made Wade’s jaw drop because—wait a minute.

“I just need to grab my bag, and then I’ll be ready to go,” Y/N said, her voice almost shy as her cheeks flushed slightly.

Logan nodded, his tone equally soft. “Take your time.”

Wade blinked. Blinked again. His brain struggled to process the scene in front of him. Y/N disappeared back down the hallway, leaving Wade and Logan alone once more.

Was that supposed to be normal?

“What the actual hell was that?” Wade asked, his voice flat with disbelief.

Logan didn’t answer immediately, returning his attention to his phone like nothing was out of the ordinary.

“Logan,” Wade said again, stepping closer. “Explain. Now.”

Logan shrugged, as casual as could be. “We made up,” he said simply, like that explained everything.

Wade’s jaw dropped. “Made up?” he hissed, his voice rising slightly before he quickly lowered it. “What do you mean you made up? That could mean anything! Did you talk? Hug? Share a cupcake? I need details, man!”

Logan smirked, and Wade swore it was the most infuriating smirk he’d ever seen.

Before Wade could lose his mind completely, he leaned in, lowering his voice even further. “Care to elaborate? Or do I have to guess? And if you say it’s none of my business, I swear I’ll—”

Logan finally sighed, setting his phone down and meeting Wade’s intense stare. “We kissed,” he admitted.

For a moment, Wade was completely silent.

Then, in true Wade Wilson fashion, he exploded.

“WHAT?!” he whisper-shouted, his hands flying to tug at Logan’s shirt. “You kissed her? When?! How?! Was it romantic? Don’t leave me hanging here, man!”

Logan smirked again, his calm demeanor only fueling Wade’s frantic energy.

“You’re killing me!” Wade whisper-screamed, pacing back and forth in the kitchen. “I—I don’t even know what to do with this information! This is a game-changer, Logan! A life-changer! What do you—”

He abruptly cut himself off as Y/N reappeared, her bag now slung over her shoulder.

“Ready to go?” she asked, her smile bright and unassuming.

“Yeah,” Logan replied smoothly, grabbing his own bag and heading toward the door.

As he passed Wade, he reached out and playfully punched him in the stomach. Wade doubled over dramatically, glaring at Logan.

“See you later, Wade!” Y/N called cheerfully as the two of them left.

Still clutching his stomach, Wade straightened up, muttering to himself. “This is so not over.”

He was pacing the kitchen, muttering to himself about how life wasn’t fair and how he deserved to know more, when the sound of the front door opening made him jump. He spun around, ready to throw some sarcastic remark at whoever dared interrupt his spiraling, but his jaw dropped when Logan stepped back inside, closing the door behind him.

“Forgot something,” Logan muttered quickly, his eyes darting toward the hallway.

“Wait, what?” Wade blurted, completely thrown off.

Logan’s gaze flicked to him, and for the first time since Wade had known the guy, Logan looked... excited. Not just regular excited, but an almost boyish, slightly frantic kind of excitement. It was weird. It was amazing.

“I gotta make this quick,” Logan said, his voice low but urgent as he walked toward Wade. “I told her I forgot something, and she’s waiting for me downstairs, but—”

“But?!” Wade repeated, his hands shooting out like he was physically trying to grab the story out of Logan.

Logan hesitated for half a second, then sighed, leaning closer to Wade like they were two kids gossiping at lunch. “We kissed last night.”

Wade’s face lit up like Christmas morning. “YES!” he whisper-shouted, pumping his fist in the air. “Finally! Okay, keep going—what happened?”

Logan glanced at the door, checking for any sign of Y/N, then leaned back in. “It wasn’t just that. Before that... Mark showed up.”

The excitement in Wade’s face melted into sheer confusion. “Mark? Wait—her psycho ex? You’re kidding me.”

Logan’s jaw tightened, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. “He followed her on her way home. Pulled her into an alley. Had his hands on her—”

Wade’s eyes went wide, and his voice shot up several decibels. “WHAT THE FUCK?”

“I could’ve killed him,” Logan said, his voice low and guttural. His knuckles flexed like they were itching to throw another punch. “I swear to god, Wade, I almost did. He had his hands on her. She was crying—trying to fight him off—and when I saw that, something just—snapped. I put him against the wall, told him if he ever touched her again, I’d make sure he wouldn’t be able to crawl out of whatever hole I put him in.”

Wade stared at Logan like he’d grown another head, his mouth opening and closing in stunned silence. “...Okay, holy shit.You’re not even exaggerating, are you?”

Logan gave him a sharp look. “Do I look like I’m exaggerating?”

Wade shook his head quickly. “Nope. You look like you’re about to fight me just for breathing wrong.”

Logan exhaled hard, his shoulders dropping slightly. “I threw him to the ground. Told him to leave her alone for good. Made him repeat it before I let him crawl away.”

“Damn,” Wade muttered, his expression somewhere between impressed and horrified. “I know you’ve got the whole ‘strong, silent type with a heart of gold’ thing going on, but that’s... next level, man. Did she—”

“She was shaking,” Logan admitted quietly, a flicker of pain crossing his face. “I thought maybe she’d hate me for losing it like that, but... she didn’t. She just—”

“—melted into your arms like a freakin’ romance novel?” Wade finished, clearly invested now.

Logan shot him a flat look. “She cried. I held her. Then I brought her home.”

“And then?” Wade prompted, leaning in so close it was borderline invasive.

“And then,” Logan continued, his tone softening, “we talked. Well, I talked. Apologized for avoiding her. She said she was okay... but I could tell she wasn’t… It wasn’t... planned or anything. She was heading to her room, but then she just... stopped. She turned around and came back, and then—”

“She kissed you.” Wade’s grin stretched across his entire face.

Logan’s lips twitched upward. “Yeah. She kissed me.”

“And you kissed her back,” Wade pressed, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet.

“Of course I did.” Logan smirked.

Wade let out a strangled sound, somewhere between a laugh and a scream. “This is insane. This is incredible. You’re incredible. Oh my god, I need every single detail.”

Logan glanced at the door again, his grin fading slightly. “I’ll tell you later,” he said, already stepping toward the exit. “She’s waiting for me downstairs.”

“No!” Wade whisper-yelled, grabbing Logan’s arm. “You can’t just drop this and walk out! What else happened? What’s the plan now?!”

Logan shrugged, his smirk returning. “There’s no plan. Not yet, anyway. But...” He hesitated, his voice softening. “We’ll figure it out.”

Wade stared at him for a long moment, then sighed dramatically, throwing his hands in the air. “Man, you’re killing me. This is too good.”

Logan opened the door, pausing just long enough to glance back at Wade. “Thanks, Wade,” he said simply, his tone genuine.

“For what?” Wade asked, caught off guard.

“For pushing me,” Logan said, his expression uncharacteristically earnest.

Before Wade could respond, Logan stepped out, the door clicking shut behind him. Wade stood there in stunned silence for a moment, then finally shook his head, muttering under his breath.

“Attaboy, Peanut. Atta-freakin’-boy.”

———

Y/N and Logan walked side by side down the familiar route to the school. There was a quietness between them, but it wasn’t awkward. If anything, it felt… settled. A shift in the air, warm and unspoken, hummed between them—neither one daring to put it into words just yet.

Y/N glanced sideways at Logan, watching him out of the corner of her eye. He looked more at ease than he had in days, his shoulders relaxed and his usual tension nowhere to be found. It felt like seeing him again, after weeks of him being a shadow of himself.

“What time does your first class start today?” she asked, her voice light, breaking the quiet.

Logan turned his head slightly, his gaze softening as he looked at her. “Eight thirty. Yours?”

“Same,” she said with a small smile. “Though my first class is probably going to be a disaster. I tried a new seating chart, and I already know they’re going to hate it.”

Logan’s lips curved into a faint smirk. “Why do you do this to yourself?”

She laughed softly, the sound light and genuine. “Well, it’s too late now. Guess I’ll just have to brace for impact.”

Their conversation flowed easily, dipping into the mundane details of their morning routines and what they expected from the day ahead. The words were ordinary, but there was an ease between them that hadn’t been there before.

At one point, their hands brushed as they navigated a narrow section of the sidewalk. It was brief, barely more than a touch, but it sent a spark through them all the same. Neither of them acknowledged it, but Logan’s pace seemed to slow just slightly after that, as though prolonging the moment.

When they reached the school, the familiar buzz of students and staff filled the air. The spell of their quiet walk began to break, but the warmth lingered. Logan paused just outside his classroom, turning slightly to face her.

“Have a good morning,” he said.

“You too,” she replied, offering him a small smile.

For a moment, they lingered there, caught in the subtle pull that had been building between them all morning. Then Logan gave a brief nod and disappeared into his classroom, leaving Y/N standing in the hallway with a flutter in her chest.

———

The hours slipped by quickly, the rhythm of the school day doing its best to fill the spaces in Y/N’s mind. Yet, even amid the chaos of lesson plans, grading, and the occasional classroom disruption, her thoughts inevitably circled back to Logan.

She saw him a few times during the day—at the lounge when they both reached for the coffee pot at the same time, at the cafeteria when their eyes met briefly across the room. Each time, it was the same: easy conversation, quiet smiles, nothing really different… yet everything felt different.

Their colleagues noticed too. It wasn’t in the way they acted—after all, they hadn’t said or done anything obvious—but in the way the atmosphere between them had changed. The tension from the last few days had disappeared, replaced by a kind of magnetic ease that didn’t go unnoticed.

By the time the final bell rang, Y/N’s nerves had started to build. She knew what she wanted to do, knew that they needed to talk, really talk, about everything.

When her last student finally left, she made her way down the hall toward Logan’s classroom. The sound of her knuckles against the doorframe made him glance up from his desk, where he was packing away papers into his bag.

“Hey,” he greeted, his voice warm and even, though there was a flicker of something in his eyes—surprise, maybe, or curiosity.

“Hey,” she said back, stepping just inside the door. “You heading out soon?”

“Yeah, just finishing up.” He straightened, slinging his bag over one shoulder. “Why?”

Y/N hesitated for only a moment before finding her voice. “I was wondering if… you’d want to grab a drink before heading home. To, you know… talk.”

For a split second, Logan’s expression softened, his lips parting as though to say something. Instead, he nodded. “Sure. That sounds good.”

She smiled, her heart thudding in her chest as relief and nerves swirled together. “Okay. Let’s go, then.”

———

The bar wasn’t far from their apartment, a cozy spot with dim lighting and the faint hum of conversation that made it feel both intimate and secluded. They found a small table in the corner, tucked away from the other patrons. Logan pulled out a chair for her, his hand brushing hers as she sat down, sending a ripple of warmth through her.

The server brought their drinks—beer for Logan, wine for Y/N—and left them in their little bubble of quiet.

For a moment, they didn’t say anything. Logan tapped the side of his glass absently, and Y/N traced the rim of hers with her finger. Their eyes met briefly, and both of them chuckled, the sound soft and nervous. Logan was the first to break the silence, clearing his throat softly as he glanced up at her. 

But it was Y/N who took the plunge. Her voice was steady, though her heart hammered in her chest.

“Do you regret it?”

Logan’s brows knitted slightly, and for a split second, her stomach twisted. But then he shook his head, his voice firm and unwavering. “No. I don’t regret it. Not for a second.”

The weight on her shoulders lifted instantly, and she let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. A small, relieved smile tugged at her lips. “Good. Because I… I didn’t know what to think. I mean, after everything, I wasn’t sure if you…”

“If I what?” he asked gently, his eyes locked on hers.

She hesitated, her fingers nervously twisting the stem of her glass. “If you felt the same way.”

Logan leaned forward slightly, his gaze softening. “What’s ‘the same way’?”

Heat rose to her cheeks, but she forced herself to look at him, to be honest. “If you… felt about me the way I feel about you.”

The corner of his mouth twitched into the faintest smile, and his voice dropped to a near whisper. “Then yes. I do.”

Her heart leapt, a flood of emotions washing over her all at once—relief, joy, disbelief. She let out a shaky laugh, her nerves giving way to something warmer. “This is crazy, isn’t it? That we’ve been so… oblivious. All this time, it was right there in front of us.”

Logan leaned back slightly, a wry smile tugging at his lips. “It’s not that crazy. I don’t think I would’ve done anything about it, though. Not ever.”

The smile faded from her face, replaced by confusion. “What do you mean?”

Realizing how his words might have sounded, Logan straightened, his expression earnest as he rushed to explain. “Not because I didn’t want to. God, Y/N, I wanted to. I just…” He trailed off, exhaling deeply as he rubbed the back of his neck. “I didn’t think I could. I mean, you—you’re everything. And me… I’m just—”

“Logan—”

“Let me finish,” he interrupted gently but firmly. His voice was raw now, his words spilling out like he’d been holding them back for far too long. “You’ve always been so… good. And kind. And strong. And I’ve just spent my life trying to… survive. I’ve made so many mistakes, hurt so many people, and I’m terrified of doing that to you. Of hurting you. Because you’re the last person in the world I want to hurt.”

He looked away, his jaw tightening. “I didn’t think I deserved you. Hell, I still don’t. But when I’m with you… everything feels lighter. Like maybe I’m not as broken as I thought I was.”

The tears she’d been holding back slipped free, trailing down her cheeks. She reached across the table, taking his hand in hers and squeezing it tightly. “Logan,” she said softly, her voice steady despite the emotion trembling beneath it. “Nothing anyone says—nothing you say—will ever make me feel differently about you. Not even what Victor said, or whatever you think the world might think of you. I know who you are. I’ve always known.”

His eyes glistened, though no tears fell. He looked at her like she was the only thing in the world that made sense.

“I love you,” she whispered, her voice breaking slightly.

His breath hitched, and for a moment, he just stared at her, like he was trying to memorize every detail of her face. Then, slowly, a smile spread across his lips, soft and unguarded, his eyes shining.

“I love you, too,” he said, the words coming out like a vow, like they were meant to be hers all along.

The moment hung between them, warm and full of quiet understanding.

She let out a soft laugh, the tension melting away. “So… we’re taking things slow, right? One step at a time?”

Logan smirked, leaning back in his seat. “Sure. Except, you know, we’ve already skipped about ten steps. Roommates first, coworkers second, and now…”

Y/N grinned, finishing for him, “And now this.”

They both laughed, the sound easy and light.

“We’re not exactly conventional, are we?” Logan asked.

“Not even a little,” she replied, her grin widening. “But what’s conventional anyway?”

Logan leaned forward again, resting his forearms on the table, his gaze steady on hers. “Yeah. You’re right. And for the record, I don’t mind skipping steps, as long as we end up in the same place.”

Her smile softened at his words, the vulnerability in his voice making her chest ache in the best way. “I don’t mind either.”

They sat there for another moment, just looking at each other, the silence comfortable and filled with unspoken promises. Outside, the world carried on, but in their little corner of the bar, it felt like time had slowed just for them.

Y/N glanced at her watch, a reluctant sigh escaping her lips. “We should probably head back before Wade thinks we’ve skipped a few more steps.”

Logan laughed, standing up and reaching for his coat. “He probably already thinks that.”

Y/N grabbed her bag, shaking her head with a fond smile as they headed for the door.

The walk back to the apartment was quiet but not awkward, their hands brushing occasionally before Logan finally took hers in his. She glanced up at him, her cheeks warming, but she didn’t let go.

“So,” Y/N said, glancing up at him with a playful smirk. “What’s next on the list of steps? Couple dinners? Grocery shopping?”

Logan chuckled, his thumb brushing over the back of her hand. “Sounds thrilling. We should probably pick up a checklist, just to be thorough.”

“Oh, of course,” she replied with mock seriousness. “Can’t risk skipping any more steps.”

When they reached the apartment, the warm glow of the living room lights spilled through the window, a sign that Wade was home. As soon as they stepped inside, Wade turned from where he was sitting on the couch, his eyebrows raising.

“Would you look at that…” he drawled, smirking. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to say anything about how you two look suspiciously happy or how your hands were totally linked when you walked in.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, slipping off her coat. “You just did, Wade.”

Wade finally looked up, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Fine, fine. But just so you know, when you eventually tell me about this—because you will—I want to hear every detail. And for the record…” he leaned back, arms crossed. “Don’t forget my name when you send out the wedding invites. That’s all.”

Logan shot him a warning look, though the corners of his mouth twitched. “Don’t you have something better to do?”

“Not really.” Wade grinned but stood up anyway, throwing a wink over his shoulder as he headed toward his room. “Carry on, lovebirds.”

He disappeared before either of them could respond, leaving Y/N and Logan standing in the middle of the living room.

Y/N let out a laugh, looking at Logan. “He’s never going to let this go, is he?”

Logan smirked, stepping closer and brushing a strand of hair out of her face. “Probably not. But I can handle him.”

She smiled, glancing down as she slipped out of her shoes. “I’m going to change into something more comfortable.”

As she turned to leave, Logan caught her hand, spinning her back toward him in one smooth motion. The twirl was so effortless it made her laugh, but her breath caught as he leaned down, his lips brushing hers in a sweet, lingering kiss.

When they broke apart, her cheeks were flushed, her eyes shining.

“That was…” Y/N started, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Yeah,” Logan murmured, his smile widening.

“OH MY GOD!”

They jumped apart, turning to see Wade standing in the hallway, his hands over his mouth, acting dramatically shocked.

“You couldn’t wait, huh? Right here in the living room, in front of God and me?”

Y/N’s face burned as she tried—and failed—to come up with a response. Logan, however, was unfazed. He ran a hand through his hair, his lips quirking into a smirk. “What are you still doing here?”

“I live here,” Wade deadpanned. “But don’t mind me. Please, continue. I’ll just… avert my eyes.” He covered his face with both hands, peeking through his fingers a moment later. “Or not.”

Logan groaned, turning to Y/N with an apologetic look. “I’m sorry.”

She laughed, the awkward tension melting away. “Don’t be. He’s our problem now.”

Wade scoffed, pretending to be offended. “Excuse me? I’m the reason you two are even happening. A little gratitude would be nice.”

Logan sighed, shaking his head as he grabbed Y/N’s hand. “Come on. Let’s go before he says something even worse.”

As they walked toward her room, Wade called out one last time. “But for real, I’m expecting a toast at the wedding! ‘To Wade, the unsung hero of this love story!’ That has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it? I know I love it.”

Y/N laughed as Logan muttered something under his breath, his hand squeezing hers. They disappeared into her room, leaving Wade to his dramatics. But despite his antics, the warmth in his smile lingered long after they were gone.

For the first time in a long time, everything felt right.

For once in my life, I have someone who needs me, someone I've needed so long.

Oh, someone warm like you, would make my dream come true.

XXX

A/N: because I do not want to say goodbye to this story (yet) let me tell you first and foremost, there will be an epilogue!!!!!! but officially, yes, this is the last part *insert a pic of me crying* I need to thank you guys so so much for all the love and support for this fic!!! I hadn't written a long fic like that in years and you all made me so happy when I saw you liked it!!! if you have any specific request/ideas for "spin-offs"/one shots from this story I'll gladly take them!! I love you guys so so much, and I hope you liked this final chapter! I had a really difficult time writing it but I love it that way! anyway, see you soon for more stories🫶

[byte-babe]

Bullworth, After Hours

Characters - Pete Kowalski/Eleanor Kowalski

Summary - Pete's summer self-discovery.

Word Count - 901

Warnings - N/A

A/N - This is a sneak peek of a fanfic I'm working on (still reworking the first chapter). If you have any feedback or chapter suggestions (because i have no idea where this can lead to) let me know !! ^^

Summer break for Pete Kowalski had been eventful to say the least; now that he had accepted his new found self.

He came out to his parents a week into the break, telling them about all the little thoughts he’s been having since the 9th grade and how they’ve gradually gotten bigger and less easy to ignore.

Both of his parents are very loving and understanding people and have always shown support when it came to their child, so talking to them was a lot easier than Pete had anticipated.

He honestly expected his parents to call him crazy and shut the whole thing down since he had no idea where their views on the LGBT+ community stand, but they showed no signs of rejection. They didn’t really get it, which meant they’d have to do some research on the matter like Pete did before, but they agreed that they would do their best to understand and provide support.

It took a while for them learn more about the entire thing, but they eventually got it and even found a good gender-affirming consoler that he could see.

The first few minutes within the meeting were nerve-racking.

So many questions about who he was, what he wanted, and how he felt. Each question felt like it was peeling back a layer he hadn’t even realized was there. It was overwhelming, but at the same time, a strange relief.

He was told about HRT and how most male to female people who wanted to be more feminine use it to reduce the testosterone levels in their bodies and add in more estrogen, helping to align the person’s body with how they feel inside.

Pete never knew that there were ways a person could change their appearance other than surgery. It was very tempting, but he wasn’t sure if he was ready to take that big of a step yet.

The doctor suggested that he should start off with something and try other forms of self-expression that makes him more comfortable such as clothing, hair changes, or even makeup. And once he felt good about it all, then they could discuss about medical options.

During the second month of summer, Pete had spent his time experimenting with the ways he could express himself more in a more feminine way. He started with a name change and pronouns.

His mother suggested ‘Eleanor’ for a new name since it was the name she picked if she ended up having a girl.

Eleanor liked that name. She couldn’t explain why, but it just resonated with her.

As fun as it all was—spending long summer days with her mom and navigating the lifestyle of a girl, trying different clothes, using subtle makeup, and even being able to start HRT during the first few days of August— Eleanor had to go back to school.

The start of the school year was getting closer and closer with the heavy, burning weight of anxiety making itself at home in the bottom of Eleanor’s stomach.

She even asked— begged her parents to let her be homeschooled, but it was never up to debate, especially since she only had one year left of high school now.

Might as well just get it over with instead of going through a whole process of getting transferred to a homeschooling program.

This meant Eleanor had to enter Bullworth as someone different. Not only that, but she knew she might have to correct people when it came to her name and labels.

Maybe it would all be that bad, considering that she didn’t have much of a reputation there and people barley knew her name or who she was anyways.

Her and her parents talked to Dr. Crabblesnitch a week prior to the start of the school year about the changes.

Even though he wouldn’t, couldn’t, and shouldn’t admit to it, Eleanor could tell he wasn’t fond of the changes. Yet he had no choice but to oblige.

He would lose money if he did. That’s all he cared about.

With these new changes, Eleanor still resided in the boy dormitory. It wasn’t up to her, Crabblesnitch made that decision.

She couldn’t really be upset with that though, thinking that she wasn’t where she wanted to be in terms of looks, it was the safer choice.

She didn’t want to risk making the girls uncomfortable and would instead have to deal with whatever insults or harassments the boys would do to her.

She dealt with it before, so what would be the difference?

At least Gary wouldn’t be there. He’d just make her life a living hell.

She had been visiting him occasionally in Happy Volts over break— before she started using estrogen, so he had no idea about anything.

She never told him anything.

Why would she visit Gary anyways? The one mentally insane person who turned the entire school into a battlefield and against Jimmy just to fuel his narcissistic personality and own twisted desire for total control?

Because Eleanor was a compassionate person.

And— sad to admit it— but he was also the first friend she made when she came to Bullworth.

Whenever she did visit, he would be on an array of medication which made him oddly calm.

Still an asshole, but calm.

He never seemed to mind the company either; if Eleanor was correct, he looked as if he actually enjoyed it.

[11queensupreme11]

You answered Let’s goo!!!!

I love you Queen my pookie Wookiee bear!

I’m sorry that was weird..

Anyways!

What I was wondering was if Cu got so mad that Percy fell in love with a mortal that his dumbass cheated again! Out of spite! (This probably won’t come true but bear with me please 🙏) and when Percy found out to his horror she just shrugged him off explaining that she didn’t care what he did anymore, and expected him to not keep it in his pants. I can imagine her being a savage as well like -

Cu: I cheated on you why don’t you care!???

Percy: honestly Cu, you’ve already cheated on me once already, you have a history of cheating, I don’t love you anymore, if I could I would have divorced you already and taken the kids with me, if I chose between Anthonius and you I would choose Anthonius over you any day. You wanna know why? Because he wouldn’t let his ‘urges’ get the better of him and cheat on me. If there was a cheating club you would be right behind my uncle Zeus and I could care less.

Cu: 😨

🤣

Okay but the second ask was about when Percy was grieving.

WARNING: MENTION OF SUCIDE

what if because of Cu and how he didn’t care at first that he cheated on Percy and disregarded her feelings. AND in this case Percy caught him in the act. When Percy went away and she killed herself. And just to make it more traumatic. Her children are the ones that found that body and Cu who was banging the mistress heard their screams and when he saw what happened he realized what he’s done 😈

Percy’s dead and ITS ALL HIS FAULT!

😈😈😈

How would the the yanderes and the kids react to this situation? Especially CU!!!

Imagine loving someone so much but because of your beliefs she killer herself…Cu is such a dumbass I want him to suffer 😈😈😈

well, he'd do pretty much the same thing as the previous scenarios if she fell in love with a mortal: plunge all of midgard to chaos and chip away the man's sanity.

if he cheats again after that and percy doesn't care (let's be honest, she's probably still traumatized and numb), cú chulainn would literally just rape her 💀

like i am not kidding. this dude's a yandere, ofc he'd rape her. he'd force himself on her to MAKE her love him again. that is literally every yan's go-to if they feel their darling stray away: rape them and break them. or in cú chulainn's case, force your love onto them until they have no choice but to accept it. he'll do it to remind her of her place, to remind her of HIS LOVE and that she better love him back or else

(on the bright side tho! he won't cheat again since he's seen how heartbroken it made her 😅 a win's a win, i guess??????)

as for the suicide one, i think i might've gotten that ask, but it might be someone else so i'll answer it here

the yanderes would be DEVASTATED AND HORRIFIED. percy being dead is their number 1 fear. the literal love of their immortal lives is gone, and it's because she was so fucking depressed that she killed herself. hell, these yans have put her through the WRINGER for centuries, eons even, and she stayed strong but cú chulainn's infidelity was the last straw for her.

like.... percy is extremely fucking resilient. she stayed alive for her kids, held on for them, but she was pushed so much that she finally killed herself and left her children, WHO SHE LOVES VERY MUCH, behind.......... that says a LOT

this would completely break cú chulainn. like really, genuinely, 10000% break him. not even the impending war of the other pantheons raining down on him would snap him out of it, and he's a war god. his children are devastated at the loss of their mother, his eldest son is horrified and furious, and they're all desperately trying to get him to snap out of his misery because a bunch of pantheons were coming for them and they NEED their dad

percy's suicide would cause a lot of death. the celtic pantheon would be faced with many many pantheons against them, cú chulainn is enemy number 1, and his children are in danger too. if percy were to kill herself because of this, it'd lead to a lot of slaughter and her precious children wouldn't be spared either 💔💔💔