#i suck at advices ask aj …

[yzzyhee]

hello mars!! 🤩 how are you doing? i just want to say i am soooooo jealous that you bagged a baddie (AJ my beloved 🤭) i just want to say i am happy for you both and i wish you both a great relationship (please teach me rizz so i can cuff someone like AJ)

hiii love !! im good, hope you are too 🫶🏻

and thank you fr, we appreciate it🥹🥹 as for rizz, ask aj for that.. i just sat there and let myself fall for her charms 😔 i am a weak person for her i fear

[ellecdc]

My brother is graduating a year late and I’m graduating a year and a half early I will be graduating in December and he won’t graduate until May and everybody in my family except for my other big brother and my grandma are telling me that I should go and talk to the school to see if I can stay at the school later so that AJ does not feel so bad about himself because his little sister is graduating earlier than him 

They can’t even find it in them to be proud of you? Your brother’s feelings are more important than your accomplishment?

Jeez babes, I’m sorry that really sucks. Idk if you’re just venting or asking for advice but I say fuck ‘em and graduate when you EARNED to graduate

Proud of you 🫶

[phantasmiac]

pro wrestler!touya au where he’s the oldest son of the todoroki ring dynasty

cw/tw: none except for one nsfw mention (nothing detailed) and a fem!reader

wc: 0.9k

a/n: i need everyone who knows their wwe to know that 1) i am imagining endeavor as the undertaker and 2) the dabi x reader in this is highly inspired by cm punk and aj lee. do with that what you will xx

touya who has one of the most anticipated wrestling debuts of all time at 19 years old, all because he’s the son of pro wrestling legends, rei and endeavor. he’s an instant hit because of his badass persona and alt ring attire (see: jeff hardy), but most notably for his “daredevil” style of wrestling: crazy stunts with tables, ladders, chairs, etc., lots of high flying maneuvers; but he also falls under the brawler category. it all makes up for not being a “powerhouse” wrestler (the ones who are huge and can lift a ton) like his old man or his up and coming little brother natsu. he definitely has some metal entrance song like the ones used in the 2000s (imagine him walking out to metalingus 😫).

touya hates being linked to his parents, and really would have preferred if his siblings hadn’t followed him into the industry — but still hypes up them up during any out of character interviews and supports them as best he can. especially fuyumi bc he knows the women in the industry don’t get the credit they deserve 😡 gives great advice and won’t turn them down if they ask to train with him. but he downright refuses to be involved in any family storylines, he thinks it’s super corny. doesn’t mind being put in real matches against them or tag teaming, just as long as it doesn’t become a whole thing.

touya most often takes on the heel role (aka the bad guy role), but doesn’t mind occasionally acting as a tweener (the anti-hero). his siblings are all faces (good guys). he’s perfect for the role because he’s amazing on a microphone. even though the storylines are planned, all of his segments or promos are written by him and contain a lot of great improv, and they’re always considered iconic by fans, bound to be on a “top 10 wrestling promos of all time” list. he’s just the bad guy you can’t help but root for, even if you’re a fan of his opponent. everyone hates that they love him! on the other hand it kinda sucks because his dad was also a popular heel during his career, so he gets a lot of comparisons.

backstage and out of character, touya is actually a super chill guy. he’s always down to do things for charity, whether it be matches or meeting fans. never says no to a picture or an autograph (unless you’re a dick about it) and has a soft spot for kid fans. you’ll most often find him with his head down listening to music in the locker room, hyping himself up before it’s time to head out to the ring. probably has beef with some other people on the roster because he comes off as arrogant (he’s just reserved and quiet!) and because of his family background. it makes him laugh because he’s really unbothered at the end of the day.

you’re put into a storyline with him where you’re supposed to act as his love interest, and fans are always commenting on how much chemistry you share. the fans eat it up because you’re the first female wrestler touya has ever interacted with both in and out of the ring. most fans thinks you both are probably just really good at acting; but the secret to your chemistry is the hot quickie you have backstage before every segment. you really do start off as coworkers at the beginning, and then friends with benefits, but as the storyline progresses and you’re forced to constantly work and spend time together he really starts to fall for you hard. needless to say you become a power couple pretty quickly and touya can’t even bring himself to be angry at the fact that you’re becoming the next generation rei and endeavor. because he loves and respects you so much 🥹 both as a fellow wrestler and a person.

you’re on the road together 24/7 and touya loves it because he gets to spend every day with his best friend! he loves to train with you, gets so very proud when he sees you pull out a move you’d practiced with him during an actual live match! he’s so funny bc he’s been in this industry for so long and understands that most rivalries aren’t real, but always ends up having animosity towards your opponents in real life 😭 especially if you got injured fighting against them, even if it was a complete accident. you sew and patch up a lot of his attire for him, so he always feels like he has a part of you with him when he goes out there. if you wear any of his siblings merch instead of his he’ll have a pout etched on his face for as long as it takes him to get over it. if your storyline eventually comes to an end he will adamantly refuse to do another romantic one with anyone else.

at the beginning of his career he expected to be one of those wrestlers who’s still in the game in their 50s. but by the time he’s in his mid 30s and you guys are over a decade into your relationship and a couple of years into your marriage, he decides he wants to settle down and have a family with you. so he ends up retiring and fans are heartbroken, but not angry because touya released the sweetest retirement message and they’re so happy for you two 🥰 he does make surprise comebacks once in awhile post retirement, can’t completely stay away from the ring. and now he’s entirely shameless about supporting his siblings. makes your kids become their super fans. sometimes he shows up to events to support them as an audience member, with his babies on his shoulders. he’s just living his peaceful little life knowing that he was able to have a successful career and retired as a legend.

★ a/n pt ii: are there any other dabi stans who had a hardcore wwe phase, is that a subgenre of dabi stan or does the population just consist of me

[starkravinghazelnoots]

It shouldn’t have been a big deal to Sam that Bucky was taller than him. In fact, it wasn’t a big deal to Sam, no matter what Sarah insisted.

“There is only one thing you men are more sensitive about than your height,” Sarah had teased with a knowing smirk, “and that would be y’all’s foot size.”

Sam had wrinkled his nose in distaste. “Please don’t ever speak to me again.”

“You are the one living under my roof, Samuel.”

Unfortunately, his sister had been right about that, too.

Except no, no, it didn’t matter that Bucky was taller than Sam! The difference was a measly two inches, so small it could hardly even be called a ‘difference’ with total seriousness. And Bucky was yet to boast of this slight advantage he had in height, either, thus reinforcing the fact that it really and truly did not at all matter to Sam that Bucky was the teensiest bit taller than him. Sure, maybe sometimes Sam wanted to be the one who leaned down into a tender kiss, but that wish was not so strong as to be the only thing ever on his mind.

“If that’s the case, why can’t you stop talking my ear off about it?”

Sam frowned at his sister’s irritated tone, though her dramatic eye roll that followed told him Sarah’s exasperation was only half-genuine. “Well, since you’re always telling the boys you know everything, I figured you’d be the best person to ask for adv—”

“Oh, you hush.” Sarah swatted his arm with the kitchen towel. “I don’t tell them I know everything. I just remind them that if they have questions, they should come to me before you or Bucky.”

Yeah, Sam couldn’t blame her for that one. Bucky’s knowledge was antiquated at best and Sam no longer bothered to deny how his constant to and fro across the country meant he was oftentimes out the loop. “Okay, well, now I’m the one coming to you with a question. So what should I do? Buy a pair of heels?” He was pretty sure he’d hate wearing them, but Bucky’s reaction would inevitably be hilarious. Sam was tempted.

“Hell no, do not waste your paycheck on that.” Sarah sighed as she hung the beige towel up beside the sink. “Look, bro. If you’re coming to me like AJ and Cass do with a question about people, I’m gonna give you the same answer I always give them. If you got a problem with someone…” She gave him a flat look that immediately clued Sam in to the fact that he was going to hate her advice. “Talk. It. Out.”

Sam groaned, leaning back against the wooden cabinets of the kitchen. “You already know Bucky’s the quiet and condescending type.”

“Who gives a shit? Clearly you’re the one with a problem here, not your beau.”

Touché.

“Also, you chose to date him.”

“Alright, alright,�� Sam grumbled. “You’ve made your point.”

“Thank you. Now go put all your counselor skills to use and have a talk with your man,” Sarah concluded with a shooing gesture. “Oh, also—wake up the boys for me, will you? They’re gonna be late for school if they don’t get moving.”

Sam gave her a mock salute, grinning as Sarah rolled her eyes a second time before turning back towards the eggs she was scrambling on the stove. Knowing such a reaction meant their conversation was over, Sam resigned himself to maybe—maybe—talking to Bucky about his… see, he didn’t even know what to call the issue. His height complex? God no, that sounded horrible.

Well, first things first—he needed to wake up the boys.

As Sam headed towards the stairs, he passed a sleepy Bucky emerging from the small half bath, his normal hand covering his mouth as he yawned while the vibranium one scratched his stomach. Sam did his best to ignore the way the latter action made the hem of Bucky’s shirt ride up a fraction of an inch.

“Morning,” he said, earning a tired nod from Bucky in response as he reached the foot of the stairs, pausing after taking only a few steps up. “Sleep well?”

Bucky nodded again, a content smile tugging at his lips. “Through the whole night.”

Sam’s chest swelled with pride at the revelation. It had now been—what, a week and a half of restful nights for Bucky? Surely he was verging on a new record. “Hell yeah, man. That’s great.”

Bucky’s little smile became a pleased smirk. “I still think I’d sleep even better in your room—”

Sam laughed. “Sorry, Buck. Not with kids in the house.” He glanced at the clock across the hall before taking another step up the stairs. “Speaking of the boys, I need to wake them up before Sarah has my head.”

“Oh, wait. I’ll come with you.”

Sam pretended his heart didn’t flutter at the near-insufferable domesticity of the mental image that followed, one of Bucky gently shaking his nephews’ shoulders to get them out of bed. Christ. Sam was so whipped.

When Bucky reached the foot of the stairwell, Sam couldn’t help but notice the scattered fluffy tufts his partner’s hair had developed into throughout the night. Unfairly-attractive bed head, as it were. This casual observation was followed by a more intense thought that hit Sam like a sledgehammer.

He could see the top of Bucky’s head. Because, on the stairs, he was taller than Bucky.

Sam didn’t consider himself to be an impulsive person—no matter what Bucky said—but at that moment, he threw forethought to the wind. Bucky only had his feet on the first and second steps when Sam leaned down to cup his partner’s face with both hands and crash their lips together in a kiss that made fireworks explode in Sam’s stomach. Bucky’s morning breath wasn’t even too bad—rinsed his mouth, maybe?—and Sam soon found himself lost in the warmth of Bucky’s lips on his and the firm grip Bucky now had on his hips. Although he sorely regretted the eventual need to pull away for air, Sam had to admit that the dazed, blissful expression on Bucky’s face almost made breaking the kiss worth it.

God. Fuck. That settled it. If this was what it was like to kiss Bucky Barnes from above, Sam was going to suck it up and lay everything out to Bucky. Sarah would tease him endlessly, as sisters were wont to do, but damn.

It’d be so worth it.

“What was that for?” Bucky finally murmured, running a hand up and down Sam’s side.

Sam smiled as he traced Bucky’s bottom lip with his thumb. Ha. “Ask me later. We gotta wake up the boys.”

Bucky nodded. He made absolutely no move to continue up the stairs. “Kiss me again, first?”

Well, who was Sam to refuse such a polite request?

[forasecondtherewedwon]

They’re Sayin’ (You’re Gonna Be My Man)

Fandom: The Falcon and the Winter Soldier Pairing: Sam Wilson/Bucky Barnes Rating: T Word Count: 2217

Summary: Sam calls Bucky too soon after he's left Louisiana, looking for advice he doesn’t really need and getting a conversation he didn’t really expect.

Sam’s supposed to wait until news of the Flag-Smashers’ movements comes down the line to get in touch with Bucky. He doesn’t. It’s sooner. It’s almost right away.

He’s sure Bucky’s gotta be out of the state, but he doesn’t know whether he’s made it back to this alleged apartment in Brooklyn (on some level, Sam’s aware that he keeps making jokes about the conspiracy of the apartment’s existence because it’s his way of daring Bucky to invite him over sometime). When he calls Bucky up, he knows he might catch him on a plane, in a cab, with a buzz of voices around him as he scowls at strangers in an airport or stomps down a sidewalk. But, other than Bucky’s voice on the other end, Sam just hears quiet, so he figures the guy made it home.

“You never told me if you had any tips,” Sam accuses straight off.

Shifting his feet, he tamps down more of the grass he’s been practicing on, squinting when sweat rolls into his eye. He just finished a brisk mile with the shield on his arm, getting used to the weight and the bulk of it, and he’s ready to start throwing again.

“Tips for what?” Bucky asks. “Fixing the boat? General life stuff? I know we had a good talk, but I think I take advice better than I give it.”

“Which is not saying much,” Sam points out with a laugh. “You suck at taking advice.”

“Until recently.”

“Until recently,” Sam allows. He takes a deep breath and leans over to the side, stretching from his run and tapping his hand on the Vibranium disc currently propped against his leg. “Nah, man, for the shield. How to throw it, how to catch it, how to pull off some of Steve’s fuckin’ boomerang tricks.”

“I thought you were gettin’ the hang of it,” Bucky says in his ear.

“I am. I just realized that, when I had you here, you did a lot of standing around and catching the shield on that cyborg arm of yours. Not a lot of active advice-giving.”

“You really want me telling you how to do your job?”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, nobody said that. I am simply aware of the fact that you’re one of very few people alive who’ve handled this thing, and maybe the only one who did it with any actual competence.”

“The level of flattery is astounding,” Bucky says dryly.

“You want more, you gotta help me out,” Sam jokes back.

“Well, show me what you’re doin’.”

Sam glances around himself. Flat lawn. Waning daylight. Tall trees wrapped in the pads he’s been ricocheting the shield off of. No place good to prop his phone.

“I gotta get somebody to film me,” he realizes. “Lemme call you back.”

“Everybody’s gonna be filming you with the shield pretty soon. Only question is whether you’re doing something impressive in news footage or looking like a jackass in some kind of Avengers’ Greatest Fuckups reel.”

“Shut the hell up. I thought we were gettin’ along now.”

“Just trying to be motivational. Am I not doing it right?”

“I think you better look up the word ‘motivational’ in the dictionary while you wait for my call,” Sam suggests.

He disconnects and hangs his head, shaking it even as he smiles.

His legs are screaming for a thorough, post-workout stretch and maybe some ice on his shins—they’ve been taking the brunt every time he digs his feet into the ground and braces to snatch the returning shield from the air—but what’s another quarter mile? Sam runs to Sarah’s, arms pumping, stride a little different now that he has to accommodate the shape of the shield.

When he gets there, the boys are playing soccer on the lawn and he calls through the screen window to the kitchen to get his sister’s ok to borrow them as his training assistants. They get even more excited by the bestowing of this title and its implied responsibility than by the sight of the shield. That’s pretty incredible. Sarah caves to a temporary borrowing (supper’s almost ready) and they’re off.

On the way back, Sam lets AJ carry the shield. Seems like a nice break for himself until Cass requests a piggyback.

“Alright,” Sam agrees with a sigh, crouching in front of his nephew. “Hop on.”

Captain America’s benevolence is limitless. At least, it is this evening. When his back’s killing him tomorrow from absorbing the shock of a hundred shield throws, he will not be so easily persuaded into giving piggybacks.

In the clearing, Sam pulls his phone from the zipped pocket of his shorts and videocalls Bucky, who picks up on the first ring. His face is too close to the camera, but it’s good to see those blue eyes and the crinkles that are either there because he’s smiling in greeting or he’s confused about how a videocall works. In a few seconds, Bucky figures out for himself that he needs to hold the phone farther away. It makes Sam miss him. Also makes him a little worried because he can see the blank, white wall of Bucky’s apartment around his head. No paint, no art. Sam can’t even hear a TV or anything in the background.

“You’re not busy,” he observes.

“Not really, no,” Bucky admits.

“You coulda stayed here longer.”

“Nah, you needed time with everything, not me constantly looking over your shoulder. Shield’s yours now, Sam. I’m gonna be at your side, but you and the shield… I got no say in what that relationship is. I understand that now and I’m trying to respect it.”

“So when you’re actually doing the right thing, let you back off?”

“That’s right,” Bucky agrees.

“I’ll try to remember in case it ever happens again.”

Before Bucky can defend himself against Sam’s teasing jab, Sam passes the phone to AJ, camera turned so Bucky will still be focused on him when he starts throwing the shield again.

“Got you propped up on my human tripod,” he informs Bucky, reaching above the phone to playfully shove the side of AJ’s head. “So watch your mouth.”

“Can I say hi?”

“Don’t be a smartass,” Sam warns.

And, of course, Bucky eggs the kids into a long ooooh, like they’ve caught him breaking his own rule. Which they have. But Bucky was being a smartass and the opportunity to let him know is not something Sam likes to pass up.

He’s stretching now—maybe for himself, maybe for the camera pointed his way—gripping his ankles in turn and holding his heels to his ass until he feels the pull in his thighs. Bucky’s not wrong about having this time to himself. Just him and this legendary object that’s feeling more right on his arm every time he slips it through the straps. Still, he misses what they had going the last two days. Not him and the shield, but him and Bucky. Having him here like that… It was different from every other experience Sam’s had with him. Bucky was still, in turns, a grouch and a showoff and a staring machine and a shithead (flirting with Sarah, come ON), but he was also more convincingly a person than Sam’s had the pleasure of seeing him before. At ease and multi-faceted by nature instead of the necessity of adapting in the face of a threat.

Bucky smiled.

They didn’t always bicker.

He looked damn good in the morning when they leaned against the kitchen counter, not talking, sipping their coffee.

Sam wants those minutes back so bad. Living with Bucky here was incomparable to living with him overseas. Lotta reasons for that, including not having to share the space with Baron Zemo. Mostly because this is home and Sam liked pretending, while Sarah did some well-deserved sleeping in and the boys got the hems of their pajama pants wet in the dew in the backyard, that it was real. That this breath between their fights (no longer with each other) could last and that this is where they’d hold it. It could be their kitchen, their mugs, their tousled sheets Bucky’d climbed out of, looking all rumpled and lovely and shit.

But Bucky doesn’t know what Sam pretends and Sam sure as hell isn’t going to tell him. He’s just going to keep faithful to their usual dynamic, trying for less glaring. Not a word to unsettle things, as much as he’s curious how they might handle things being unsettled. As much as his mind plays back the blinding glint off the water as they rolled up their sleeves and went to work together in a way more meaningful, more personal, than they ever have before. Plays it back all the time.

No. Quiet. Sam needs to figure himself out first and knows Bucky’s working on doing the same. Maybe sometime—but probably never—they can see how those selves overlap. All they need to make fly right now is being Captain America and… what’d that moron call himself? The White Wolf? Son of a biscuit…

“Let me see him!” Cass says excitedly, recapturing Sam’s focus.

It’s his brother he’s talking to and Sam watches fondly as AJ turns the phone to show Bucky a grinning Cass, being careful to keep it steady. Pretty damn sweet. Cass even waves while Sam stands there, watching and doing shoulder rolls.

“Hi, Uncle Bucky!”

Sam feels like he just whipped the shield out and caught the return in his stomach. He strides over to the boys and AJ passes the phone back without being asked. He’s stifling giggles despite or because he senses that his little brother shouldn’t have said that.

“One minute,” Sam tells Bucky, hardly glancing at him because he just can’t. He tilts the camera towards the ground and raises expectant eyebrows at his grinning nephews. “Did somebody tell you to call him that?”

In unison, the boys go, “No, Uncle Sam,” which is suspiciously adorable. But they aren’t liars.

“Did you hear somebody call him that?”

AJ and Cass glance at each other and that’s enough for Sam. They won’t answer, so he knows it’s Sarah who’s made this joke, put this idea in the kids’ heads. They won’t give her up though, because they’re Wilsons and they’re loyal to their mother.

Sam turns the camera back on himself, unprepared for the upward tick at the corner of Bucky’s lips that make them even harder to look away from than usual.

“My sister must’ve—”

“I know,” Bucky interrupts.

“You know?”

“Yeah. Sarah called me that to my face.”

“She did what?”

Sarah having her joke is one thing, but saying it to Bucky takes things a little far, in Sam’s opinion. Bucky could think Sarah’s serious. He could think she’s saying that because Sam’s said something to her. Something about coffee and bedsheets and the sweet ache he felt in his chest when he saw Bucky’s smile in the golden light of dawn.

“Last night, before she put the boys to bed. You were in the shower, I think.” Bucky reaches up absentmindedly to run a hand over the top of his head; the flex of his bicep in the long-sleeved shirt he’s wearing and waiting for the end of this recollection are both torture for Sam. “They wanted to hang out with me, but Sarah said, ‘Uncle Bucky’s gotta get some sleep. You’ll see him tomorrow.’ Something like that.”

Now, when Sam’s truly learning the meaning of flabbergasted, Bucky’s mouth cracks into a wide, self-satisfied smile.

“You made that up,” Sam guesses helplessly.

“Nope.”

Sam knows that, with his nephews’ inability to lie and Sarah’s lifelong history of messing with him as evidence, but it would’ve been a convenient escape from the reality of his sister (and possibly the boys too) addressing Bucky as if he and Sam are together.

“Tell me you told my sister to drop the ‘Uncle.’”

Another thing Sam knows: that Bucky didn’t do that. Bucky seems happy to prove his fears correct; he shrugs.

“Sounded kinda nice,” Bucky defends. That makes Sam soften. He knows Bucky doesn’t have any living family, that he’s been struggling to allow himself to make friends. Maybe he just likes being told he belongs to them and that Sarah’s joke makes it effortless for him. Then, Bucky adds, “Pass me back to my nephews.”

Sam points a warning finger at him.

“Watch it.”

“Yeah, yeah.” The crease between Bucky’s eyebrows deepens as Sam watches the pain in the ass pretend to be stern with him. “Just throw the damn shield. I thought you asked for my help.”

“I did.”

Releasing a cautious sigh, Sam hands the phone to AJ once more. The boy’s got his silliness under control and he accepts the job solemnly.

Sam’s two steps away, hefting the shield onto his arm, when he hears Bucky shout, “And my hand in marriage!”

The boys’ laughter has them rolling on the cool grass, the phone clutched in AJ’s grip, and by the time Sam wrestles it away from his nephew, the camera’s swung all over the place. Showing Bucky the sky, the dirt, some quality footage up AJ’s nose, and probably—almost definitely—the way his words made Sam smile.

[mimisempai]

Nothing in the world smells so good as the person you love

Summary:

For some reason, Bucky is absolutely seduced by Sam's scent. But when he tries the perfume on himself the effect is not the same...

🌈 Happy Pride month ! 🌈

To celebrate, 1 day, 1 story.

Be ready for smiles, laugh, fluff, tooth rotthing fluff, positive vibes and a lot of love!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/31968220

1292 words - Rating G

"He smells so good, Alpine, I tell you! Do guys always smell good like this?!"

"Meow?" Alpine jumped up on the couch to take place on Bucky's legs, whose hand automatically came to scratch her between the ears.

"We've lived here for a while," Bucky continued, "but I never noticed how good he smelled."

Sam called to him from the kitchen, "Bucky, dinner is ready!"

Bucky got up and went to join Sam in the kitchen, Alpine in tow. Since the cookout, Bucky had been living with Sam, they were in the early stages of their relationship, still feeling their way around, but it was going pretty well.

When Bucky arrived in the kitchen, Sam was finishing preparing the meal. He walked over and hugged him from behind. He kissed his neck before breathing in his intoxicating scent.

Sam leaned against him before protesting, "Bucky the meal is ready, come on, let's go eat."

As they sat at the table, Bucly asked him, "Sam...your scent, is that your body wash?"

"Hm?"

"Well actually," Bucky continued, "you have a mint-like scent..."

Sam replied as he continued to eat, "It's the scent of my cologne. I really like it, so I've been using it for a long time. Why? Does it smell too strong?"

Bucky shook his head vehemently, "No! No! Not at all! Actually it's really pleasant." he started to blush and didn't even know why.

Sam looked surprised and delighted, "Oh? Thanks for the compliment!"

They continued eating in peaceful silence.

**********

The next day, Bucly was walking through Delacroix when a familiar scent called out to him, "Sam..."

He looked left and right, though he knew Sam couldn't be there since he had left this morning to go help Sarah on the boat.There was a drugstore, with its stalls displayed in front, and a section with some perfume bottles.

The scent became stronger as he got closer, so he took one of the bottles, sprayed it on one of the small papers provided for that purpose, sniffed and put the bottle back in its place. It was not this scent. He took the next one and repeated the same operation.

"It's the same scent!" he sniffed again before repeating, "It's definitely the same. Is that the perfume Sam uses?"

He bought the bottle, and doused himself with it copiously before heading to the harbor hoping to spend some time with Sam.

When he arrived, there was Sam and the kids on deck.

"Hey everyone!"

"Uncle Bucky!"

"Bucky! It's your day off, babe, why are you coming here?" said Sam, wrinkling his nose as Bucky approached.

Just before he kissed him, he replied, "I wanted to spend some time with you.

Sam looked slightly puzzled, "Bucky...did you put something special on today?"

Bucky happily replied, "Oh you noticed? How does it smell?"

"It stinks!" replied AJ and Cass in chorus.

Bucky, shocked, froze in place.

"Come on you idiot." Sam pulled him towards the cabin of the boat, once inside he wet a cloth and handed it to Bucky.

"Don't worry, the first time I put it on, Sarah pushed me into the lake because it smelled so bad. You have to use it sparingly. Run this wet cloth over the places you put perfume on, the smell won't be as strong."

"I'm such a loser... " Bucky muttered as he followed Sam's advice.

Sam came really close to him and asked, "You really like that smell then?"

Bucky stammered, "Earlier uh... when I passed by on the street over there, I smelled that scent and thought you were there, but I saw the drugstore and found your perfume. And... ahem... since it was your scent, I felt like buying it."

"Oh?"

The words began to rush to Bucky's lips, "I mean... uh... I mean it gives me such a captivating feeling, and also such a refreshing sensation... so I wanted to try using the same scent as you! Ack! It really makes me feel like an idiot now!"

When he looked up, Sam was looking at him in a fond way, "There's nothing idiot about what you just said, it's really flattering and cute actually."

Sam laughed softly and Bucky thought to himself that he was the cute one.

They hadn't put words to their relationship yet, letting themselves be carried along. Bucky knew deep down how he felt about Sam, but he was afraid to put it into words.

**********

The next day, on his way home from work on the boat, he heard laughter in Sam's workshop. He remembered that Joaquín was supposed to come in for the final adjustments on Redwing.

When he entered, Joaquín greeted him with a beaming smile, "Hey Bucky! Good to see you!"

"Hey kid." replied Bucky before going to hug Sam.

"Bucky, you'll never guess, Joaquín had the same idea as you! He bought the same perfume as me too."

Joaquín was bouncing on the spot, "Yep! It smells great, doesn't it? Even I can be a stud hehe!"

Bucky clenched his fists and said in a dry voice, "You only know how to imitate others like that...you really suck.... Moron!"

"What?!!"

Bucky saw the surprised look on Sam's face. He turned on his heels and quickly left, ranting.

He heard Joaquín call out to him, "Bucky! What are you talking about?! Who do you think you are?!"

He startled when he felt someone grab his sleeve to stop him. He hadn't been aware that Sam was following him.

Sam said to him in a mildly reproachful tone, "What you just said Bucky, was a bit much. What's the matter with you?"

Bucky kept his eyes fixed on the ground and replied through his teeth, "Nothing! I was just telling the truth!"

Sam replied softly with a mocking tone, "So... based on your logic, wouldn't you be the pot calling the kettle black?'

Bucky exploded, "No! I'm not! That's not what I wanted to do! I didn't want to copy you! You know the reason I wanted to smell like you? Why do I hate when someone else is close to you? You want to know?!"

At that moment the wind blew, hitting Bucky hard, filling his nostrils with the scent of Sam that he loved so much.

"That's because I love you! Sam, I love you!! I just wanted to wear your scent all the day on me!" he couldn't help himself, he took Sam in his arms and hugged him tightly.

He felt Sam laugh against him as he closed his arms around him. Then he whispered in his ear, "How did I ever fall in love with a 106 year old idiot..."

Bucky groaned against his neck, "Sam... "

"My cute Idiot, I love you. I wouldn't have asked you to live with me if I didn't. And just to clarify, you don't have to wear my perfume, I like your smell just the way it is."

Then laughing both, they kissed, sealing their confessions.

In the distance, witnessing the scene, Joaquín was shaking his head when he felt a hairball rubbing against his legs.

"Honestly, Alpine I don't know how you manage to live with those two idiots in love."

"Meow!"

He bent down to stroke her, and after a few seconds, she walked away with a quiet step in the direction of the two idiots in question.

__________

Not beta'd I hope you enjoyed it 🥰

[likeadog]

i have a mut i really wanna fuck with like . flirty casual stuff yanno but i am sooo bad at not being stupidly blunt or like. so vague its completely unidentifiable that i have any other intention ;-;

oh jeeze...i cant really offer any advice, im awful at that sort of thing. u can ask aj, i suck at it

[rottenbutrecovering]

tw: abuse mention, stigma of npd/bpd

how do i deal with triggering posts and videos about BPD that i perceived would help me and be empathetic? for example i was excited to watch aj mahari a youtuber who has BPD and is in remission, but most of her content is focused on people who have to deal with people with BPD and she uses really strong language to describe people with BPD, like “narcissistic injury/defense mechanisms”, (not stigmatize npd but if someone is using this word it seems to use stigma) “incapable of adult intimacy”, “immature relational ability”, “more likely to be ab*sive”, “BPD ab*se cycle”, and so forth. i can’t get this stuff out of my head even though some of her videos are genuinely kind and empathetic, and i know the other ones are for people to make sense of their own pain with toxic loved ones, but i can’t help get horribly worried and depressed that someone i love will read that one day and leave. do you have advice for these type of situations? i hope this is appropriate and non triggering for me to ask and if it isn’t, i apologize in advance.

This is a difficult one, Nonnie. It’s so true that even videos from people that are normally very good, are suddenly very awful about PDs. I think it’s important to remind yourself that these people are wrong, and there are many people out there fighting stigma. And also these people that know you, if they actually know you won’t be put off by these videos.

I wish I had mroe advice to give, but I know how much it sucks to see these videos out there.

[cozycryptidcorner]

“This takes place in the universe I’m working on! Some of my followers might recognize the characters, I’m drawn them plenty of times before. I’ve been wanting to actually write the relationship, but have been working on the plotline beyond what ya’ll see in order to do so. I hope you enjoy these two dumbasses as much as I enjoy writing about them!”

This can’t get any worse, AJ thinks, as it inevitably gets… well, worse. At least instead of freely orbiting through the vastness of space, she gets caught in a planet’s gravitational pull, but that opens a whole other can of worms that involves things like possibly burning up in the atmosphere. She doesn’t know if her spacesuit has any kind of heat guards or impact safety measures beyond the basics, but oh boy, she’s about to find out.

Being caught in a gravity well is sort of like how AJ imagines being caught in a whirlpool while completely paralyzed and numb all over. It’s an inevitable sort of horror, though she can’t actually feel friction of any kind, like someone on the outside might think she would be experiencing, her spacesuit at least makes sure of that. From her position, she can see the planet through her tinted visor, a soft, golden shade overtaking everything it possibly can.

There are two possible planets she could land, twins, locked in each other’s gravitational pulls, and she doesn’t know which one claimed her first. Her so-called team briefly stopped in the system, trying desperately to pull the energy of the sun to refuel the damaged warp engine and repair the external damage before the accident.. Her body flips over, tumbling, plunging, flipping head over heels, wholly unsure of the direction she is heading, much less the planet that has decidedly grasped onto her frame and pulls her ever closer. She has thrusters, but they won’t so much when barreling towards the ground at high speed; however, maybe she can angle herself so that she bounces right off the atmosphere bubble?

She has to think over this very quickly. Which sounds worse, floating in a vacuum and hope someone who aren’t the space pirates her crew was running from picks up on her suite’s emergency beacon, or pray her suite can take the impact of a crash and try to make contact with the natives? Tentatively, she tries working her thrusters and quickly realizes by the lack of movement that they must somehow be damaged. Awesome. Incredible. Her day is just getting better and better.

There’s a blinding flash, and she realizes that all other options are now unavailable, because she is now falling to the planet’s ground. She’s also on fire, that’s why it’s suddenly so bright. The light control on her helmet kicks in a moment too late, her eyes ache from being exposed that, but she can’t do anything about it. Her brain fizzles for a moment, and when she opens her eyes again, she realizes that she must have fainted for a few seconds. The systems operator is going insane, flashing messages running across the face shield, one of them politely suggesting that she call for assistance because it appears she’s moving faster than the recommended speed the suit can tolerate without disintegrating.

Helpful advice, but AJ knows that slowing down will probably aid in her survival, so she maneuvers her body around so that she’s parallel to the ground, spreading out her limbs to create surface drag. A warning pops up in front of her face, letting her know that the heat of reentry is melting the outer layer of her suite. She doesn’t even have any time to panic, though, because she’s trying to figure out if there are any sort of functions she can use as a makeshift parachute, something, anything to cause enough drag that will increase her chances of not pancaking into the ground.

It’s so very unbearably hot. AJ’s suit’s internal systems try to let her know, unhelpfully, that the air conditioning is not compensating enough for the external heat. AJ thinks she might start crying but tries her best to keep her shit together so she can focus. A part of her wishes that the impact could be instantaneous, but the ground doesn’t seem to be getting any closer. The descent controllers work, though, miraculously slowing her fall to the point where she is no longer on fire.

She hits her thrusters, hoping they might decide to work now, though nothing happens. Then, miracle of miracles, sees that the option for the descent controllers is still available. Nothing that will guarantee a soft landing, but it might be enough to keep her bones from shattering on the impact. She hits the release and two hexagonal shapes pop out on either side of her, the difference in speeds almost immediate. Her body wobbles uncomfortably, but nothing breaks off, thankfully

One problem is out of the way, but another one is fast approaching. She can’t really control her descent beyond angling her body slightly to fall a little more forward, so it’s not as though she can pick where she’s going to hit. There’s a loud snap as her body rams into a tree, and the damn thing cracks in half as though it were made from weak plastic. There’s a dull pain on her hip, AJ can feel the suit take critical damage, but she doesn’t fucking stop. It’s like she’s chained to a speeding train, her body skidding through the forest, the leaves and branches doing little to stop her, the protective layers of the suit beginning to crack and warp.

AJ can hear the pop of her chest piece as it fractures, and parts of her arm guards begin to rip off. Just as it looks like she’s finally stopping, she slides right off the edge of a cliff, which, incredible! Excellent addition to her day. Water leaks into the cracks of her armor, and her breathing apparatus beeps a warning that it can’t manage to sort oxygen from other harmful molecules anymore. A current sweeps her away, just as merciless as the gravity has, and AJ has to figure out how the fuck to get the helmet off so she has a better chance to breathe.

The weight of what is left of her armor drags her down, but she tries to focus on one dilemma at a time. The release buttons of her helmet are almost welded together, which only leads to further panic, thus speeding up her oxygen use. After a few, shaky moments of being tossed about in the water like a ragdoll, she finally managed to release the helmet, letting it get sucked away by the current. When she manages to find and break the surface, she barely has time to take in two, gulping breaths before her foot catches something, and she’s yanked back under.

She flails, terror building because AJ did not survive a freefall through a planet’s atmosphere just to fucking drown once she hit the ground. Again, she manages to surface, if only for the barest moment, and she quickly goes back down. She tastes blood in her mouth as her chin hits something solid. Then, by some other miracle, she’s again up, jerked roughly from the water, and she can finally breathe as something- or someone- drags her out of the river and onto the grassy banks.

At first, all she can do is sputter any water out of her lungs, too shaken from the river to do anything. A hand sets on her back, and she turns to look over her so-called ‘rescuer’ as a headache fully setting in once she manages to sit up on her own. Actually, everything hits AJ at once, a shudder of pain rippling through her body like a goddamn tsunami. With trembling fingers, she begins to peel away what is left of her armor, side eying the… the person with a curious glance.

He’s remarkably tall, she can tell that just from his kneeling position, his legs slim and long. His gaze holds hers, eyes wide, pupils small, as though he sees a ghost, which AJ supposes if fair. This is most likely his first time seeing someone from outside his world, his shock is understanding. AJ is, after all, completely desensitized to all things’ alien,’ she can’t imagine what he must be thinking.

“Thanks for getting me out of there,” AJ says, her voice raspy, and she can tell her face is swollen just from the areas of pain that come with speaking. After prying her gloves and finger guards off, she finds that most of her hands are covered in blisters, which explains why moving them hurt so much. When she wipes her nose with her wrist, it comes back tinged with red.

He answers, but when all she hears is a string of gibberish, AJ realizes that the universal translator must be fried. Her day just keeps getting better and better, because she needs to ask him to help pull the arm plating off next. Her fingers are dripping with pus and blood, some of her blisters popping from the effort, and with the way that the metal has melted and hardened weird on her arm, she’d be surprised if it’s only bruised.

“I need your help,” she says, slowly, in case the translator is just having some minor processing issues, “can you,” she gestures in his direction, “pull this,” she taps on the armor and mimics a good yank, “off for me?”

He seems to catch the gist, hesitantly reaching over, his long, slim fingers grasping the end of the metal awkwardly, as though he isn’t sure where to grip. As he pulls, there’s a sharp pain that runs up AJ’s arm, but she tries not to make anything more than a soft grunt as the plate pops off its attachment. Before she even has a chance to recover, he holds his hands out, taking the opposite piece in hand and doing the same thing. That one hurts a bit more, though, and AJ finds herself letting out a quiet whimper.

The alien quickly places a steady hand on her shoulder again, a comforting gesture that catches her off guard, and then he helps pull off all other parts of the suit until it’s just an exoskeleton. It’s a bit more complicated to get off than the external plating, since it involves a load of switches and locks, safeguarding her body against the vacuum of space. AJ’s fingers are stiff and aching, but she somehow manages to undo all the bells and whistles, and with her brand new friend’s help, she actually gets the damn thing off.

Her arms are covered in dark, swelling bruises. Patches of her skin are burned, much like her fingers, and she doesn’t want to know what her legs and feet look like quite yet. She can’t even wrap her arms around her chest to fight the oncoming chill since, beyond the obvious, her left arm spikes with pain every time she bent her elbow. Something in her stomach gurgles, she isn’t sure if it’s anxiety, hunger, or the fact she might have accidentally swallowed half of that river while she was fighting to breathe.

She starts crying. Not full-on sobs, but the tears are there, sliding down her already wet cheeks, mingling with the blood and snot that’s dripping out of her nose. The alien looks like he’s about to panic, and glances self-consciously over his shoulder, pointing to somewhere in the trees. He stands, and yes, AJ’s first observation about his height is correct. Good god, he has legs for days, the cool, blue of his skin remarkably reminiscent of a clear, sunny day back on Earth.

Oh, and he has horns. AJ doesn’t know how she missed that part, plucking the translator from the rest of the discarded suit and tucking it against the waistline of her leggings. He helps her up, slowly, carefully, clearly aware of how the more bloody and battered body parts are strictly off-limits. AJ doesn’t know how she could possibly walk, but she somehow does, another miracle to add on today’s list. Just because she can, though, doesn’t mean it’s not absolute agony,because there are a lot of things happening at once and none of them are good.

She’s suddenly overcome with pain, and she can’t do it. She can’t go any further. Her legs are quaking, her balance is warped, and just as she stumbles, the alien catches her. Carefully, conscious of her other injuries, he wraps her arm around his neck, placing his other hand on her wrist, effectively pulling a significant amount of weight off her feet. It’s torture, but she quietly tells herself that the pain will end just over the next landmark. They’ll get where the alien has them going soon, just beyond the trees. Beyond that big rock. Over the bridge.

And then there’s a house, small, rectangular, made from dark pink clay up ahead. AJ breathes out a gasping sigh of relief as the alien steers her there, letting her in through the awkwardly placed door, into the warm glow of weak, artificial light. Lightbulbs. Electricity. That’s a worthy observation because that pops the lid off dozens of possibilities that come with such a technological advancement, including things like functional, decent medicine that AJ is probably going to need in the near future.

There’s someone else in here, but AJ doesn’t try to be too worried. A woman, older than him, it looks like, judging by the slight creases in some areas of her face, and she’s looking at them like… well, like she’s seeing an alien for the first time. That’s also pretty fair. AJ tries to make herself seem like less of a threat, though she doesn’t really know… how to do that when she’s almost broken apart from the fall. Surely she possesses no sort of danger to these people?

They speak, and all she hears is garbled nonsense, though there is an undertone of familiar syllables that signals that her translator is trying to do its job. The female gestures over to a nearby table, and she is now ferried over to a kitchen area and seated on a comfortable wooden chair. The two proceed to converse, while AJ tries to use all her linguistics training to pull meaning from the gestures, tones, and facial expressions alone. After all, it is her goal to eventually be able to communicate with unknown species from the ground up, as is most linguistic anthropologists without technological aid. Might as well start now.

The older one sets a blanket around AJ’s shoulders, then goes about something around the kitchen area. Carefully, AJ undoes the straps of her giant work boots, wincing as her fingers bend around the straps. Her feet are horribly swollen, she can already tell without looking at them, and she’s almost afraid that she will have to cut the damn things off. Luckily, though, once everything’s loosened enough, her feet slide out with minimal effort. Like her hands, her toes and heels are burned, the red, raw flesh already peppered with popped blisters, she doesn’t think she’ll be able to walk for a good couple of days at least.

A bowl- no, cup, is set in front of her, the older one must have made her something to drink. Before AJ has a chance to pick up the ceramic mug, the female picks up her hands, looking over the wounds with a skilled glance, clucking her tongue sympathetically. After a moment of banging around in a drawing tucked to the side, she returns with long strips of cloth and a glass jar filled with some sort of paste. Carefully, the female patches AJ up, a sharp, biting sting overtaking her senses as that sticky stuff is unceremoniously smeared all over her hands and arms.

AJ dimly wonders if this is what a mummy partially feels like as her hands, fingers, and forearms are wrapped firmly in the bandages. Despite the burning pain from the salve, she feels… tired. Like she could just go to sleep at this very second. Slowly, she drinks the tea, though that doesn’t help the drowsiness, watching the two people go about their day like an extraterrestrial isn’t chilling in their kitchen area. Now, she can’t be sure unless she like… actually speaks to them, but the older one seems to have some sort of parental authority over the one who saved her from the water. Like a mother and son dynamic?

Her eyes drift closed, and AJ finds herself fighting them back open. Is she even safe to sleep? She doesn’t know, there hasn’t been any sort of weird vibes from the natives. Self-consciously, she takes another sip of tea, wincing as her hands move weirdly against their wounds.

The one who pulled her from the river disappears for a few minutes in the back of the house, then returns, wearing something entirely different from the simple tunic he sported earlier. The fashion is… Well, it’s something, that’s for sure. Lots of ornaments dangling from his ears, horns, and nose, dozens of piercings that she hadn’t noticed now plugged with gold-colored jewelry. There’s something more aggressively strange about his outfit, too, with a longer skirt and an open front, and he’s quick to avert his eyes when he catches her staring.

The female says something in passing, probably to her, but AJ doesn’t understand any of it. She finally takes the time to finally pick up her universal translator in an attempt to repair it. Not that she has any sort of confidence in her engineering abilities, though, because to put it nicely, she’s not really an electronics person.

When the masculine one actually leaves, though, ducking out from the door, AJ is overwhelmed with a sense of absolute panic, though she doesn’t really know why. She trips over herself, trying to stand, and she doesn’t know what she would do once she finds her footing, maybe follow him, but her feet just are not capable of walking anymore. He returns to her side as she crashes into the ground, hoisting her up by her waist, and she catches a whiff of his scent. Oh, it’s nice. AJ didn’t think that the indigenous people of technologically unadvanced planets use things like cologne. Still, he definitely smells different than when he first pulled her out of the river. He picks her up, arms hooking under her knees and around her waist, like a bride, and carries her through the hallway.

The bedroom he enters is cluttered, yet clean, a collection of things lining the walls and various shelves, clothing folded and carefully placed in little cubbies dug. AJ is then placed onto a bed, which is good, because she’s tired, but she’s also aware that the alien is just going to leave her, and a part of her is remarkably nervous over that. Even so, she buries her face in the blankets, struggling to find a comfortable sleeping position to accommodate all of her injuries, and she still manages to sleep, fully aching.

[pi-creates]

what are all of your canon choices for each s4 episode? like did you kill the walker couple? did you bury ms. martin? did you shoot lilly? did you trust aj? i'm very curious!

Here is where I expose that I was in the minority for a lot of the major choices in TFS...

Episode 1:

I didn’t kill the walker couple. I would have due to remembering that moment in S2 where Clem got attacked going through the security window - but then AJ opened his mouth and I was like “oh no, little buddy...”. People come first, and with no evidence that going through the window would be negative, it seemed like an important empathy teaching moment for AJ. (And if there was a walker in that room I would be screaming how? since the building was locked, the room was locked, and those windows were boarded too well for something to get in)

And I put a stopper on the AJ swears. I know it doesn’t really matter, but having heard toddlers with absolutely filthy language IRL... yeah, I don’t like it. Be a kid for a bit longer, AJ.

Learn to share. AJ hasn’t had to do that before so I get why he has problems with it, but I encouraged him to return everything.

I went hunting with the boys. And then went rabbit shooting with Aasim. Because if you read my last response about shipping... yeah, I wanted to romance the archer boy. To be fair, I just generally agree more with Aasim’s long-term survival plan.

I let Abel take the food. And as foolish as some people might think it is, since he kept emphasising he just wanted dinner I was fine with him taking a portion. We were still getting more food than we had before. Plus yeah, I value life more than the prospect of one more theoretical dinner when we had other sources to use.

And at the end of the episode I appealed to Louis - because yeah, I spent more time with him than Violet. It made more sense with my previous choices.

Episode 2:

Bad, AJ. No assassination headshots under this roof. That is a very quick way to lose friends.

I told AJ to give Louis his gun. I wasn’t under the impression that Louis was going to keep it - though with how long it took for him to give it back I did start doubting myself.

Be nice to James... why wouldn’t you at that point? Though I am still suspicious of where he got that apple...

Buried Ms Martin. This was more about Ruby, and she clearly needed the closure. I don’t think it really is necessary to bury walkers, but people’s feelings on the issue take precedence over my own opinions.

DISCO BROCCOLI SHIRT. AJ’s face was so happy, I had to.

Brick trap... definitely not because it was Aasim’s idea. (actually not sarcasm, it is more practical)

Marry Aasim (duh at this point), Flip Ruby, Kill James... one of those things did end up happening, so foreshadowing I guess.

If you love Ruby so much, go to talk to her, guy. Seriously, I would wingman/wingwoman the hell out of this situation if you want it, Aasim. But you have to take the first step if you want to walk that road.

Piano date. Though I didn’t carve the heart initially... a bit too cheesy for my taste. Though there was smooches, so maybe I’m not immune to cheese.

No, AJ. You don’t get to call dibs on killing people. And no swears. Accidental swears are fine - I’m not going to punish it, but I would rather he not put them into his general language.

Save Louis... and I felt like an absolute dick. Like... this decision was awful to make. Violet came to the rescue when Lilly had the gun on Clem, and it sucks that you can’t return the favour. But like... why did you do this to me, game?

Episode 3:

No Abel torture, not with AJ there. And even if he wasn’t, I don’t think I’d go that far. Maybe I would refuse water and stub out the cigarette - but I wouldn’t hurt him. And yeah, Mercy kill. He wanted that.

James asks me not to kill the walkers, so I don’t kill the walkers. He wants me to listen to his opinions on walkers, so I listen. He wants reassurance that his opinions have a semblance of logic to them?.... uhh, this one is more washy. I say there could be something more to walkers because there very well could be. You can’t say there isn’t, so there also isn’t any reason to shoot him down since it’s all speculative anyway.

Told AJ to leave/run if Clem got bit. I might be the weird one here, but I really couldn’t care less if I was dead or a walker - I don’t think it matters from the bitten person’s perspective. It matters from the safe person’s perspective, and if AJ doesn’t want to be responsible for pulling the trigger, then I don’t want him to feel compelled to. That’s his decision, not mine - but I’d rather him lean more to the changeable option than the unchangeable one.

Party mix - purple lights, classical music, and ‘See you on the other side’. Named that bomb after Willy - felt a little odd to name it after Mitch when it’s Willy’s effort. He did it for Mitch though, so I understand both those decisions.

Let AJ get the jump on Dorian. I did think they were threatening to take off Louis’ full hand though, which would be the equivalent of a death sentence. Glad it wasn’t that serious, but oof. 

...I did what James wanted. Sorry, James. I do stand by this decision anyway... If Clem had the gun, then I’m not sure what I would have picked.But with AJ behind the trigger - no, he isn’t shooting that gun. He’s like 5, he can’t understand the nuance between that situation and the one with Marlon. It just can’t be instilled into his young brain that the ultimate solution to a problem is to kill someone, especially since in both cases the people are (supposedly) unarmed and begging to be let go.

Episode 4:

Trusted AJ. Every decision I had made in regards to AJ was consistent, and so if he was legitimately listening and going to take the advice I had given him, then I shouldn’t be concerned. Also, retroactively seeing how the scene is different if James is alive - I do think my version of that scene is primed to encourage me to trust AJ. The James scene in the cave feels like you’re being encouraged to distrust AJ’s decision making.

We are building a one story house, it’s painted purple and has a mahogany piano where AJ and Clem take lessons from Louis. God, I loved this dialogue moment. It feels like real conversations you have with people playing the “What if-” game.

Sorry about my previous choices, Tenn... I wasn’t happy about that.

Told AJ to leave me there. I stand even further in that corner now that there’s an axe involved. I’ll admit to crying a little bit here... I can’t help it. If a child starts crying (and I mean emotional crying - not a temper tantrum type of cry) then my empathy kicks into overdrive and I cry with them.

(Though I will point out a plot issue here - AJ has never seem amputation work in my game as a means to stop a person dying from a bite. The only way he could come up with that idea is if Clem told him about Reggie in S2... something that happened 5-6 years previous to that point. I don’t think Clem would actually bring that up since there are more occasions in her past where it hasn’t worked, so I have no idea where AJ got the amputation idea from as a potential solution.)

As for the AJ moment with walker Tenn, I distracted Tenn... no point in wasting a bullet, and I still don’t think it’s necessary to kill ‘known’ walkers as if it somehow frees them.

And of course AJ burps at the table, tells Clem she’s the best, and is determined to get her a new foot. Because no matter what, he’s still a 5 year old. 

[peace-coast-island]

Diary of a Junebug

Having a whale of a great time!

Scuba diving in the Crystal Blue Lagoon? Check. Collecting pearl oysters and whatever else lies at Sea Glass Shores. Check.  Crafting a bunch of cool floaties and braving the Shimmering Whirlpool? Check and check. Riding whales towards the sunset? Check!

Vacationing at the Sparkle Islands has been exactly what I needed! It's nice meeting up with Lenie again as well as Nico and Dewey. The Fairweathers have been taking a break from recording and performing so they've been focusing on adventuring and solo endeavors.

I can't believe that Lenie's a college senior now - where did the time go? Jimmy's busy with family stuff so that's why he's not with us. It feels like forever since I last saw him - but that's what video chats are for! Also, his kids are adorable and I'm glad to finally meet them as well as his husband. Nico's been globe trotting as usual, full of fun and exciting stories to tell us. Dewey's been taking it easy, trying to create a better work-life balance after taking on too much last year.

So far their break has been going really well. With everything going on in their personal lives, they could really take some time off. Artist's block sucks but sometimes there's nothing you can really do about it other than wait it out and focus on other things. Creativity can be finicky, especially when you've got other things on your mind like responsibilities, burnout, or a busy schedule.

I've been in a bit of a creative slump as well. From running events at the camp to personal life stuff getting in the way, I've been feeling off this past week. Like I can't relax because I have a million things running in my mind. If I'm expecting a call or email I find myself unable to focus on anything else because I'm too busy mentally preparing for having to do something that makes me nervous and often drained at the end.

Fortunately, I managed to get pretty much all the boring and stressful adulting stuff out of the way. But after spending most of last week being on edge, it's hard to fall back into my normal rhythm. I've been kinda on autopilot, just trying to get through the day. Up until a couple days ago I've been feeling pretty meh most of the time.

Usually, to de-stress, I turn to art. Doodling, journaling, knitting - whatever creative medium I'm in the mood for. But when you're in an art block, it causes more stress. As someone who's been journaling for years, there will be times when you've hardly touched your notebook in days, weeks, and even months. I have to say, though, since running the camp I've been journaling in a somewhat regular basis - especially when I started incorporating art journaling into it - but I still have times when I'm just not feeling it.

Sometimes getting your feelings out on paper doesn't help, especially when you don't have the words to explain exactly how you feel without it sounding forced or an incomprehensible mess of words. There are times when I want to write about something but the words just don't come out right, so I end up scrapping the whole thing. And of course, there are times when I want to write about something that's been on my mind, only to end up rambling about something else and going off on that tangent.

Then there are times when your mind is so fogged up that you come up completely empty. Up until today, I've been head full of fog, thoughts completely empty. Still kinda feels like that, to be completely honest, but the fog's slowly clearing up. I think the whale ride really helped with that.

As someone who believes a change of scenery and a good distraction helps when life takes a lot of out you, I find that I have a hard time following my own advice. I'm all about taking time to forget your troubles and worries for a bit, but yet I'm having difficulty doing so. I don't know why, but I always find it difficult to completely let loose - like I let myself have fun but at the same time my worries are always there in the back of my mind. It's like I'm subconsciously telling myself to have fun, but not too much fun. As much as I want to let go, there's a part of me that holds on, making me afraid to let myself fall freely.

What's the point in telling people to escape their troubles for a bit when I can't even do that without feeling like I'm doing something wrong? It's not that I don't know how to have fun - though it's taken a lot longer for me to catch on than most people - but sometimes it feels forced. I don't know, it's always something I've struggled with - at least compared to most of my peers growing up. Maybe part of it comes from being a convenient person - one who doesn't ask for much, someone who doesn't go out of their way to bring attention to themselves - the kind of person who tags along and is just there.

It's kinda like I don't know exactly how to have fun. Sort of like I'm second guessing myself by wondering, "Is this what having fun feels like? Am I doing it right? Is this enough?" and of course, that totally defeats the purpose of escaping and letting go.

I have to say, being at the camp as helped a lot in terms of teaching me how to live in the moment and enjoy the good times to the fullest. It's still a bit of a new concept for me, but at least I'm coming out of my shell - and that's what counts. Maybe I'll never be as carefree as some people - I've been told that I'm kinda low-key and serious by nature - and I'm okay with that. Sometimes I wish that I could be a bit more vocal and expressive and active, but most of the time I'm happy with being an observer and doing my own thing in the background.

It was Chai and Rhonda's idea to visit the Sparkle Islands. It was on the list for a while but for the past year the islands were undergoing a lot of reconstruction so a lot of places were closed. Leyla, who's one of the princesses of the islands, was behind a lot of the restoration and repair of various sites.

Turns out that I just missed her when we visited Maron Heights to watch our friends perform in After Hours at the Opera. Because she was so busy getting the islands back in shape, she dropped by to see the show the night before we came and went back home the next morning.

Like with Kat, Hawk, AJ, and Elara, Leyla's been going through a bunch of changes as well now that things are settling down. Aside from rebuilding the islands, Leyla's getting reacquainted with her mom Archer, who disappeared about twenty years ago in a disaster that left part of the main island in shambles for years. Having her back is still a huge adjustment for Leyla and her momma Rosie as she missed out on a lot. Leyla and Kat are pretty much on the same page when it comes to reuniting with a parent who was presumed dead for most of their lives. Despite the initial awkwardness, things are going well.

As for Leyla, a heated reunion between her moms led to an unexpected surprise - three actually. In about five months their little family of three will double in size. While her moms are terrified, Leyla's at the point where she's fully looking forward to having three new siblings. Sure, it'll be tough as her moms are out of practice with taking care of a baby (or babies). The way Leyla sees it, the 20 + age difference is more of an advantage because she can easily help take care of the babies as her moms will definitely be overwhelmed.

So along with overseeing the islands, Leyla's been helping Rosie take care of Archer, who's on strict bedrest. Archer's doing okay for the most part but the pregnancy has taken a toll on her, especially since there's a high potential for complications. Now with reconstruction almost done - about 98% according to Leyla - she has been spending a lot of time with her moms.

It was by chance that we ran into Lenie and her brothers as well as Leyla and her moms. Leyla's been dropping by to check in on us but it wasn't until today she joined us on a fun filled day of crafting floaties and riding whales. Rosie insisted that Leyla take a well deserved break and invited us for dinner when we got back.

Crafting floaties was a lot of fun and so was diving in the Shimmering Whirlpool. It does take some getting used to though, and one should be a somewhat experienced swimmer as the currents can get quite unpredictable. A bit too rough for my liking at times - not a fan of being spun around quickly because motion sickness, ugh - but overall it was an interesting experience. Definitely more into crafting floaties though.

Maybe I would be more of a thrill seeker if I didn't get so dizzy easily. I can't even look at something spinning for more than half a minute without feeling a headache coming on.

Late afternoon and evening were much more chill, thankfully. Bubble tea, sandwiches, and ice cream at the beach. Building sandcastles and breaking open coconuts. Lying on a beach towel under an umbrella and watching the waves. It's hard to believe that a couple months ago this place was left in ruins.

The biggest highlight was the whale ride. Leyla set us up with some of her friends, who were more than happy to let us hop on and show us the ocean. And I have to say, it was an amazing experience!

For a moment, I was able to let go completely. No worries, no doubts, no second guessing myself. Just bliss and exhilaration. A rare moment in which I get to be in the moment instead of being aware that I'm living a memory that I'll be looking back on fondly someday. It's strange, to lose yourself like that and not feel... weird? Guilty? Disconnected? Like you're not enjoying it enough because a part of your mind is elsewhere.

Riding a whale towards a sunset - what a way to spend an evening! I guess my takeaway from this mind blowing experience is that I need to learn that a part of having fun is letting happiness come to you instead of forcing it or telling yourself that you should be enjoying this. I need to keep that in mind.

[r3b3lgrrrrrrrl]

A LunaTic and her Gunn (Part 73 Xs1)

"Pittsburgh Proposals"

@creatureofthen1ght-v3

@lovemythsworld

@crystalbaby12

📷 creds to @southsidequeenie

"WHAT THE FUCK YOU GUYS!!???" Ashleigh snaps the moment Luna and Colson hit the bus.

He's bouncing from the adrenaline. Walking straight into the back room, she's focusing on how to save her ass.

"That Motherfucker hit me and I LIT HIS ASS THE FUCK UP!!!" Colson beams as he plops down and grabs his guitar.

Strumming he raps.

🎶We didn't talk about it🎶

🎶We just got gully🎶

🎶I sized up his body🎶

🎶Put some white chalk around it🎶

"NOOOOO!!???" Slim's mouth drops as his eyes get wide.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Luna calls Monica immediately. Explaining what happened and how she couldn't check for security footage.

"Fuck Luna, that's at least 3rd degree assault...." Monica sighs.

"I know... What was I supposed to do, Mon? That bitch would've jumped on me if I'd have left her hanging. You know how she is." Luna's rubbing her forehead as she sits on the bed.

"Fuck.... I hope I didn't fuck her face up." Is all she can think as she lights a joint.

"You could've just hit her..." Monica debates.

Using sarcasm to cover up her guilt, Luna replies. "I like props."

She puffs on the joint. Trying to calm her nerves. She doesn't know where her xanax is.

"Don't be a dick." Monica tells her curtly.

"I know. I'm sorry. I feel fucking awful. You think I should call Em myself?" She asks, having his personal number.

As it was said before, Luna and Marshall know each other. It's mostly professional but as with all of Luna's relationships, there's a personal lace to it. A genuine friendship. She has been in and out of Michigan for the last 5yrs.

"Absolutely fucking NOT. You call Mike, see if he can get me the tape. Then you sit tight. Where are you now?" Monica has a sterness to her voice.

"Uhhhh... Somewhere between Detroit and Pittsburgh." Luna answers, pulling on the joint.

"Pittsburgh. Then where?" Monica's trying to keep tabs on her client and also her friend.

Luna sighs, exhaling while thinking out loud. "CA, Philly, then DC. I'm pretty sure."

"Alright. Stay in touch with me. Call Mike. DO NOT call Marshall. Luna. Not even a FUCKING text. Do not incriminate yourself. You know you never admit fault." Monica advices her.

"I do, I will. And I won't." Luna tells her, taking her direction.

Hanging up with Monica, Luna finishes the joint. Looking for her xanax. She finds a bottle in her travel bag. Popping one she calls Mike.

-------------------------------------------------

Mike is a Fixer. You have a problem, Mike Fixes it. For a fee. Whether base to base or annually. Luna met him during the 5yrs she's been involved with Flint's community. It only being an hour outside of Detroit, Luna has made a lot of connections through the years. Mike being an irreplaceable one.

------------------------------------------------

Placing the call she doesn't go into much detail. Just pleasantries and what she needs. Mike understands. Telling Luna he'll take care of it and get in touch with Monica. They know each and have worked things out on Luna's behalf before. He goes on to tell her to try not to worry about it until she hears from Monica and to take care. The old man liking Luna, never minding when she calls.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Walking back into the main room of The Bus, Luna looks for her school bag. Her shoulder is killing her and she wants her percs.

Everyone is loud and rowdy. Still hype from Colson and Luna's antics. Joints are being passed. Hotel Diablo plays in the background.

Luna sits in between Ashleigh and Colson, once she pops them. Sinking into the couch, she hits the joint Colson passes to her. He rubs her leg, going back to his conversation with AJ. Ashleigh noticing Luna's mood, she asks her.

"So, no coffee, hunh?" Trying to lighten it.

Luna sighs as she exhales.

"Nah, man... That shit's all over Kim Mathers face. She replies, feeling awful.

Hitting the joint again, she won't even look at Ashleigh. Colson overhears her, whipping around.

"What!?" He asks her.

"Yeeeeah... She could be hurt and I could be fucked...." Luna trails off, thinking more of Kim.

"What do you mean? Explain."

Colson's confused. Not seeing anything Luna had done. She goes on to tell him how she had popped the top off of her coffee to threaten Kim from jumping in but that she'd tossed it on her to stop dude.

"Wait! You fucking hemmed up a DUDE too!?" Slim interrupts. "You're fucking monster."

They're all listening. Luna still feeling horrible over Kim. Slim hitting the nail on the head.

"He was going for Colson. What else was I supposed to fucking do?" She asks, shaking her head.

Looking down while running her hands through her scalp of her loose bun. Luna's tired and cranky. Her shoulder hurts. She truly feels like fucking shit and is genuinely worried for Kim. She doesn't even really care if she gets in trouble. Luna's used to fucking shit up, but this one doesn't feel okay to her.

"I need to take a nap before we get to wherever we're going." Luna leans up and kisses Colson on the cheek.

Knowing something's wrong, he only says Ok.

"Rage on My Dudes." Luna throws her fist in the air to The Boys as she heads back to the room.

They toss her Feel Betters to another one of her tossed fists.

------------------------------------------------

After a while of kicking it, Colson heads back to lay with Luna. With noise canceling headphones on, she's knocked. Before climbing in with her, he sits on the edge of the thinking about the things she said.

"Fuck... I hope she's not in trouble... I can't believe she did that... She really will do fucking anything for me." His heart pounds as butterflies flitter in his stomach.

-------------------------------------------------

Once in Pittsburgh, things pick up in their normal chaotic way. Only worse. They're so late, there's only 6hrs to build the stage and rehearse.

Standing together, with their arms wrapped around each other. Luna's head rests against Colson's chest.

"I don't think I wanna perform tonight, if that's okay?" Luna says looking up at him.

"Yeah, Kitten... Are you alright?" He asks her, concerned.

Before she can answer, Don comes storming over to them.

Pointing aggressively. "You two. With me. NOW." He demands.

Luna and Colson look at each other with scowls on their faces. Taking her hand, they follow Don to the side of The Bus.

"I'm not going to be putting up with your fucking shit. I'm not gonna stand for the bullshit you two pulled today with the coffee. Making us late. You two are gonna get in fucking line and follow the fucki..." Don tries to tear into to the couple.

Luna isn't having it. She interrupts him quickly.

"Who the FUCK do you think you're talking to!? You don't fucking tell me what to fucking do and you SURE AS FUCK don't speak to Colson that way.  You must've lost your fucking mind. Anything goes down, it's OUR asses. NOT yours. Don't forget who signs your fucking paycheck, BITCH." She spits with venom.

"Actually I'm paid by the lable, Little Girl." Don snaps back at her.

Sometimes Luna has no self control. This is one of those times. Don's words release a furry. Without thinking, she kicks out the side of older man's right knee. He howls in unexpected pain, leaning forward to grab it. Luna uses this as an opportunity to slam her right fist into his face. Knocking him off his already unsteady feet.

Colson watches in shock. "THIS bitch is truly a fucking LunaTic." He thinks, unable to help himself from loving her even more.

Stepping over top of Don. Luna stares down. Very calmly and coldly, she states.

"I don't give a fuck about a lable. Come at my boyfriend or myself like that again and I will rip your fucking heart out and eat it for breakfast. BEFORE I leave you along the side of the highway for the vultures to eat. You. Don't. Run. Shit."

She stares at him for a long minute, eyes daring him to speak. He doesn't. Walking away, she grabs a Roadie. Pointing at Don, she tells him he needs a medic.

Colson looks down at Don and shrugs. Sucking his teeth, he laughs.

"You heard My Lady." He confirms before running off after Luna.

-------------------------------------------------

Luna sits with Ashleigh as The Band rehearses. She's sipping on camomile tea and smoking a cigarette. Hearing what Luna did to Don, she asks Luna about it.

"You alright? You seem to be popping off today." She observes.

Luna takes a drag of her cigarette. Looking over at her, she lifts her sunglasses.

"I'm worried I fucked her face up." Luna answers honestly, referring to Kim. "Not because I could get in trouble but because it was mean."

"Why'd you do it?" Ashleigh tests her.

"Because I wasn't risking her hopping on me or Colson." Luna answers without hesitation.

Ashleigh knows it shouldn't but it makes her smile. Colson and Luna maybe crazy together but it's because they're crazy for each other.

"What about Don?"

Luna slides her glasses back on and into her seat. Sucking her teeth before inhaling again.

"Fuck Don." She says with no remorse.

Luna can be extremely sweet and then ruthless within seconds.

"Agreed... He's a dick." Ashleigh laughs.

Luna sips her tea, smoking away.

"You're not performing tonight?" Ashleigh asks noticing the change in the setlist.

"Noooo... I just... Today's already been a lot... And people kinda freak me out sometimes..." Luna rambles.

"I get it." Ashleigh pats Luna on top off her shoulder reassuringly.

Luna gives her a grateful smile as they continue to chat and watch The Band. It's another long setlist.

-------------------------------------------------

Before the show, Colson's phone rings in his dressing room. It's Diddy on FaceTime. Sitting on the couch next to Luna he answers.

Diddy starts in immediately.

"Tell me WHY, TMZ has cellphone video of what looks like you beating the shit out of who they're claiming is Eminem!?! It is the THIRD day of the fucking tour!" He explodes.

"Yo Man, that mothafucka had it comen'." Colson shrugs.

"I TOLD you not to touch him." Diddy warns Colson.

"He fucking snuck him!" Luna pops her head into the screen.

"OOOOOH!!! You're there too!? Perfect! What THE FUCK were you thinking, Loons? And what the fuck did you do to Don?" He digs into her now.

"What was I thinking? I got him the fuck up outta there, was what I was thinking. And fuck Don. He needs to learn his place. What's Marshall saying?" Luna asks.

"What's Marshall saying?" Diddy mocks her.

"FUCK you, Sean. What's he saying?" She demands.

"Nasty." Colson thinks to himself with delight. Listening to his girlfriend battle his boss.

"Nothing. No one can get him on the phone. Right now you two are a pair of lucky fucks." He points at the screen.

"Shit DUDE, what if he's not reachable because he's in the hospital with her." Luna worries.

"He snuck him, Sean." Luna says again.

"I'm sure his bitchass did. But that's not what the tape might say. Don't sweat it, I'll take care of it. You owe me two interviews for this bullshit though, Luna. Tomorrow before you leave and then NY." He tells her.

"Fine." Luna agrees, rolling her eyes.

"ATTT!! Don't you roll your eyes at me Girl!! I'll make you do Philly too." Sean teases her.

Luna laughs. "Yeah. Get another fucking road manager. Don sucks."

Shaking his head at her, Diddy tells them both to do the Fucking Interviews. They say Yes Sir in unison. Looking at each other and laughing as Diddy hangs up on them.

"Are we out of trouble?" Colson asks, looking at her inquisitivly.

"I don't know... But Sean's not pissed so that's a solid. I wanna say it's gonna really depend on how much damage was physically done and how deep their pride runs. He may not want it out because you beat his ass while she may because she's pissed I hurt her... I really don't know." Luna looks worried.

Taking her face in his hands, Colson kisses Luna. Stroking her cheekbone, he reassures her that they'll Figure It Out.

Ashleigh pops in telling Colson 10mins. Luna shoots Monica a text asking her to please check Detroit hospitals for Kim.

------------------------------------------------

Sex Drive plays, hyping the crowd before Slim comes on to introduce Colson. The arena is pouring with overwhelming energy.

Colson has 27 songs lined up. The setlist only slightly changing from the night before. He kicks it off with Habits and Breaking News 2 again.

Luna watching and bobbing side stage with Ashleigh. Dancing with each other as they laugh and sing to El Diablo.

Loco, GTS and part of Wild Boy are played. Colson tearing up the stage. Running back and forth. Jumping on speakers. Talking to his family. As he rips through Let You Go, Luna's phone rings. It's Monica. She excuses herself from Ashleigh.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

"Hey!!" Luna shouts, trying to find a quiet place backstage.

"Luna?" Monica asks.

"Yeah, I'm here!!" Luna tells her as she closes the bathroom door behind her.

"Oh Good, I can hear you. I got the tapes. It's nothing. It only focuses on the register and counter. Wherever you were, was off camera thankfully. I checked the hospitals too. A woman came into Harper with minor facial burns. She was treated and released."

Luna let's out a relieved sigh.

"We look good but we're not out of the woods yet. They could still press charges or file a civil suit."

Luna understands. She informs Monica of the cellphone footage. She's asks if Luna's on it.

"Not that I know of." Luna tells her.

"Okay, I'll contact Sean. He doesn't know what you did?" She asks.

"No...." Luna trails.

"Keep it that way. I know you guys are friends but the less that can link you, the better. I'll take care of Colson too." Monica reassures Luna.

They hang up to Luna's immense gratitude and Monica's words of safety.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Luna gets back SideStage as The Band is finishing up The Break Up. Luna presents Ashleigh a bottle of Jameson with a grin.

They happily swig and sing together as Colson nails his part of I Think I'm Okay before heading into Hollywood Whore. The riff always breaks Luna's heart.

He changes the lyrics. Rapping the words:

🎶Imma get me a wife🎶

🎶Because she's the baddest bitch🎶

🎶I trust🎶

Ashleigh looks over at a blushing Luna.

Playing Ocean Eyes, Colson glances side stage to find her. She's right there.

"She's always right there. With those beautiful fucking eyes. He thinks grinning at her.

See My Tears is next before Colson and Rook switch off. Colson slamming into the drums as Rook nails Shout At The Devil. For the second night.

Luna and Ashleigh lose it along with the erupting crowd.

The Band slams through Rap Devil, Till I Die, Golden God, Alpha Omega, Lately, Bad Motherfucker, Wake&Bake, Rehab, 27 and Sail.

The lights go down. The stage is black and silent for a moment. Colson catching his breath before he speaks to his family in the dark. Moving things around. Moving things around. Voice quieting the crowd.

"Being here tonight makes me miss my friend." He's referring to Mac. "You know you guys are my family. We're all family. If you're hurting talk to each other." Tears are welling in his beautiful eyes. "Talk to us because we love you. And we don't want to lose you too." The tears drop down his cheeks. "I've never played this before, but it means a lot to me. And I hope I do Clapton proud."

He laughs, wiping his tears as the lights go up. Playing the opening chords to Wonderful Tonight, he pulls up a stool to the mic beside his.

"Luna get the fuck out here!!" He calls.

Luna's heart is pounding. Tears falling from her blue eyes. Ashleigh takes the bottle from her and pushes her on to the stage.

"FAM!! This is my girl and I'm gonna sing her a song if you don't mind."

The crowd roars as Luna slides onto the stool. Still picking the chords, Colson leans over to kiss her red cheek.

🎶It's late in the evening🎶

🎶She's wondering what clothes🎶

🎶To wear🎶

Colson grins at Luna, recounting all the times he's watched her get dressed.

She harmonizes with him, asking.

🎶Do I look alright🎶

He answers her singing.

🎶And I said Yes🎶

🎶You look Wonderful Tonight🎶

Leaning in to kiss her through the chords.

Watching him, Luna can't contain herself as the chords rip through her soul. "Fuck, I love him." She thinks as tears drop.

Colson continues singing.

🎶We go to a party🎶

Remembering the night with The Paul Brothers, he chuckles to himself.

As she harmonizes with him again asking.

🎶Do you feel alright🎶

His mind floats to the moment she had asked him that during his birthday party.

Continuing to serenade Luna.

🎶I feel wonderful🎶

🎶Because I see The Love🎶

🎶Light in your eyes🎶

🎶And the wonder of it all🎶

🎶Is that you just don't realize🎶

🎶How much I love you🎶

Luna's heart explodes, right there on stage. Colson finishes out the last verse effortlessly. Leaning into kiss Luna as the crowd Awwws them.

Kissing him back, Luna grabs her mic as Colson takes off his guitar.

"Isn't he fucking wonderful??" Luna sniffles as she asks to the crowds cheers.

Walking around the stage, she agrees.

"He's pretty fucking wonderful, hunh? He's so wonderful that I got a Baaad Thing for him. Can I tell you about it?" Luna asks the roaring crowd.

Singing acapella.

🎶I know I'm outta my head🎶

🎶But I haven't lost my mind🎶

Her voice stops the crowd and Colson.

The range and strength of her voice is unbelievable. Colson picks his guitar back up as he kicks in with her.

Their sexual energy is undeniable. Luna snakes around him as they both weave around each other. Colson ripping his guitar through the air.

With her hand on his heart, they sing together.

🎶Tattooed you on my body🎶

🎶So I can take you wherever🎶

🎶Yeah🎶

The Band slams hard as Luna belts out the last lyrics, running her hand down Colson's cheek.

🎶I'm all in🎶

🎶There is no maybe🎶

He throws his guitar over his shoulder. Grabbing and lifting Luna up, he kisses her hard.

Grabbing her mic, he shouts "Thank You Pittsburgh!! WE OUT!!!!"

Kissing Luna again, he wraps his arm around her shoulders as they walk off stage. Her hand on his chest. Voice buzzing in his ear. The energy between them is insane.

-------------------------------------------------

Word Limit (1 of 2)

To be continued....

[mydarlingvioletine]

Just a Puppy Crush - Chapter Twelve Ship(s): Violet/Clementine, background Aasim/Louis and Ruby/Brody Media: The Walking Dead Game (Season 4)

Violet sat herself down between Brody and Louis, who was in the middle of a heated debate with Ruby over the validity of wearing acid-washed jeans in the modern day. Brody was obliviously scribbling in her notebook, completely tuned out to the nonsense going on to the left of her.

        “Oh, I’m so sorry, Lizzie McGuire,” Louis snapped with much more ferocity than was expected for the situation. Ruby groaned and threw a chopstick at him, which he narrowly dodged. “Keep your head up, Rubes. Your snapback is falling. Here, let me check your mood ring.”

Louis went to grab Ruby’s arm and she slapped his hand away, angrily opening a bag of chips with more force than she intended to, as chip crumbs flew across the table. “Shit.”

        “Vi, settle this. Today’s hot topic is ‘90s fashion fads, and how they should stay in the fucking cave of irrelevancy that they crawled into. Hannah Montana here wants to undo years of evolution and slap on some overalls and a windbreaker. It’s revolting, right?”

Violet pursed her lips, jabbing a straw into her chocolate milk container and taking a contemplative sip.

      “Overalls are cute. Oh, and those slap-on bracelets. We’ve already got frosted tips representation with Reese over there.”

She gestured towards Marlon, who was too absorbed in a page that Brody was showing him to defend himself. Louis, distraught, looked between the redhead and the blonde incredulously, and threw up his hands. 

“I give up. You fashion mongers win.”

       “Dude, you asked a lesbian for fashion advice. What were you expecting?” Violet giggled at Louis, who now was holding his head in his hands. “I rock Hawaiian shirts unapologetically all the time. Do better.”

“You’re right,” Louis raised his head, and twisted around to observe the courtyard around him. “Where’s Clem? She’s got better taste than both of you combined, and that’s saying something.”

        Violet shrugged, piling a forkful of ramen into her mouth. A stray noodle hung from her lip, which she sucked back in with a satisfying pop, earning a grossed out look from Ruby.

Louis placed his hand on top of Violet’s outstretched arm, which she balled up into a fist, but didn’t pull away. “You know I love you, Vi. C’mon. If I didn’t abandon you the day you wore denim on denim to school, I never will.”

With a scoff, Violet sat back in her seat with a dismissive eye roll. “Lucky me.”

       “Are you gonna come to the mall with me and Ruby after school?” Brody chirped up from her book, setting it aside to give Violet an enthusiastic grin. “We’re gonna pick out Halloween costumes. We’re thinking of being the Powerpuff girls. I’m gonna be Bubbles, Rubes will be Blossom. You’d make a perfect Buttercup!”

“As appealing as matching costumes with you two dorks is,” Violet snorted, shifting her glance from Brody to Ruby. “I’m gonna go see Clem’s little brother’s baseball game tonight.”

      Louis’ and Marlon’s heads jerked up, and they shared a nervous glance, unseen to Violet.

“Thought you hated baseball.” Brody sneered, taking a huge bite out of her sandwich.

         “I don’t hate baseball,” Violet protested with an eye roll. “It’s for AJ. Plus, it’ll be fun to watch adults scream at each other over a little league game.”

Louis anxiously chewed on the end of his straw, before clearing his throat. “You probably shouldn’t go tonight, Vi. You don’t like baseball, and it’s gonna be pretty warm, so that’s another level of unbearable.”

            Marlon nodded strenuously at his point, and added onto it with a level of urgency. “C’mon, have a girls night out with Rubes and Brody! There’s that really good fro-yo place in the mall, and there’s a Hot Topic. That’s right up your alley!”

He meant for the words to be encouraging, but received a middle finger from the pissed off blonde across from him. “Oh, fuck off, dude. I’m sure the Hollister is right up your alley, isn’t it, ‘Generic Blonde Boy Bully from every 2000’s movie’?”

      She dumped her empty tray into the garbage, and ignored the worried glances from Louis as she pulled out her math homework.

“Why are you guys being so weird about it, anyway?” Violet questioned the two. “I’ve got a Halloween costume. An old pirate outfit my mom put together for the middle school play.”

           Brody tugged her knees to her chest, and leaned against Ruby’s shoulder, expression solemn as it always was when Violet and Marlon were fighting. Seeing this gesture and instantly feeling guilty, Violet let her posture relax, and gave a forced “sorry” to Marlon.

“Just looking out for you, Vi,” Louis tapped his fingers on the table, lips pursed as he thought. “We’re probably gonna ump it if we can, so... know we’ll be there.”

       Violet nodded quickly, desperate to change the subject to anything other than this seemingly sore topic. “So, what are you guys being for Halloween?”

“Boo!”

      Violet felt two hands grip her shoulders, and a hot breath tickle the back of her neck, and jumped up at the contact. She turned around to see a jubilant Clem, very pleased with herself.

“Gotcha.”

Violet softly shook her head, her stressed expression immediately fading as Louis made room for Clementine to sit between them. She pressed herself against Violet’s side, and leaned her head in the crook of her shoulder.

       “Probably a bisexual.” Louis answered, earning a snort from Clementine, who’s breath tickled her neck.

She sat up triumphantly, and struck a heroic pose, winking at Violet. “What a coincidence! Me too!”

        “Dorks.” Violet happily breathed out, turning her math homework over to Clementine, eagerly willing to check it.

Hey, it’s not cheating if she offers to help.

     Violet’s heart swelled at the new piece of information she learned; that when Clem was intensely focused on something, the tip of her tongue protruded her lips.

A soft giggle made Violet lift her head, and she stared down the bashful Brody across from her, who’s eyes were happily flicking between the two girls. With a knowing glance, Brody took a sip of her iced tea.

     Violet leaned back in her chair, a flush of pink across her face as she shifted away from Clem, so their shoulders didn’t brush against each other when she leaned over to help with a problem.

As the bell rang, Louis gave one last worried glance to Violet, which went completely over her head. “See you two later. Maybe we could all go out to the diner afterwards?”

       “Definitely.” Clementine beamed, gathering her books and taking a red pen from her pocket. She scribbled an A+ on the top of Violet’s worksheet, along with a goofy smiley face with sunglasses. “I don’t have Lee’s teacher stickers with me, so that’ll have to do, superstar.”

A rush of heat flooded across Violet’s cheeks at the cutesy compliment from Clem. She slung her backpack over her shoulder, avoiding Clementine’s gaze as they walked out of the courtyard together.

     “See ya later?” Clem raised her fist and softly thumped Violet’s shoulder to get her attention.

Violet gave her a weak smile, and folded her hands together anxiously. “See you later. I’ll meet you in the courtyard after post-session.”

Clementine grinned and tapped her newly donned pin, before giving a soft wave and turning around to make it to her next class in time.

          Their glances back at the other over their shoulder lined up perfectly, and Violet’s face felt so warm that she felt it’d melt off if she didn’t make it to Chemistry and take her mind off of the curly-haired brunette that took up the majority of her thoughts.

The feeling of something small and sticky being placed between her eyebrows made her look up from her phone, her eyes meeting Clem’s, who was holding a pack of encouraging stickers she most likely stole from Lee’s desk.

             Violet took the sticker off of her forehead, and frowned at the neon ‘SPECTACULAR!’ before sticking it beside her Camp Paya pin. “Y’know, now that I think about it, I am pretty spectacular.”

Clementine rolled her eyes before hooking her arm through the taller girls’. “Come on, we gotta get there before the game starts so we can get some snacks.”

      The walk around the school and towards the baseball field was short and sweet, the slight breeze pushing Violet’s thin blonde hair out of her face.

The flimsy sticker flew off her jacket, so Clem ripped another one from the sheet, and placed it on the tip of the flustered blonde’s nose.

         The second Violet scrunched her nose up, the second sticker detached and fell to the ground.

The two rounded the bleachers, and Violet’s eyes landed on a tall man in his mid-to-late twenties, with slick brown hair that almost reached his shoulders. He was currently helping AJ perfect his swing, the logo across the back of his jersey displaying ‘García’.

       “Hey, da-“ Clem started, being cut off by Lee holding his hand out in front of him expectantly, eyeing her with suspicion.

“My stickers, Clem.” Lee sternly spoke, earning a sheepish huff from Clementine as she fished them out of her pocket and reluctantly passed them over. “Y’know, some students actually earn them and don’t have to steal them when I go to the teacher’s lounge.”

      A bashful Clementine tugged on the side of his jacket. “That’ll be twenty bucks, please.”

Lee rolled his eyes before fishing a twenty out of his pocket, and passing it to Clem. “No more of those Pixie Sticks, okay? At this point, I’d rather you just eat a salt lick.”

      His eyes landed on Violet, who he just seemed to notice was cowering behind Clementine. “Oh, hey Violet! It’s good to see you here.”

“I hope it’s okay.” Violet shyly responded.

        “Of course it is!” Lee boomed, passing a cartoonish foam finger to Violet. “We’re gonna need all the manpower we can get to out-scream these asshats.”

Violet gave a weak smile, and was abruptly pulled away by Clementine tugging her by the arm. She happily flashed the bill between her eyes, and started listing the types of food that she couldn’t wait to introduce Violet to.

       Happy and oblivious, the two intertwined hands and made their way down the street towards the corner store. Oblivious to the blue, icy glare that followed them from a distance.

[nozomijoestar]

 I had an idea for Violentine eventually getting married and because society as we know it has been dead so long they just get creative about the whole thing

Also time jump from the end of the game and Texas Two is now Big, AJ is a preteen, Clem and the older of the former kids can now pay their taxes if those were still a thing

BGM if you like that when you read, lyrics here

“Been a while huh Tenn? Everything’s so busy these days I haven’t had the time. I’m sorry.”

She sat cross-legged on the partly overgrown ground. A small wreath of fresh flowers hung from the top of a cross. The wood was faded and weather-beaten, but the name carved there could never leave her memory.  From her pocket she pulled a paper, unfolded it, then placed it. Violet sighed, even her smile seemed exhausted. Her eyes threatened to brim over with tears she thought she’d long left behind.

“AJ made that for you. He’s gotten a lot better at drawing you’d probably love it. He’s a little past your age now. Shit I’m, I’m taking too long to get to the point aren’t I?”

The breeze picked up making the trees rustle as though they communicated the will of ghosts. She looked around. The crosses had multiplied through the years, each one a new nick on her heart. She chewed her lip and fiddled with her bun. Now wasn’t the time for death. Her stomach churned butterflies. A genuine smile bled into her voice.

“I wanna ask Clem to marry me. Just saying it out loud feels weird and amazing all at once. I honestly didn’t think she’d want me this long but life kept happening.”

In one motion she laid spread eagle and stared into the pink clouds that signaled dusk. She closed her eyes as another sigh fell from the trees. The sound of people beyond the graveyard drifted in voices, laughter, and song. Though the years since there’d been largely silence were gone she could never shake a need to be prepared. Even if the walls had expanded far past the former Ericson gates, danger never slept. It was something Clementine loved to reinforce. 

The thought of the way her face went stern and her voice deepened made Violet chuckle. She rose to her feet and dusted herself.

“I should get a move on. It was great talking to you again.”

After a final readjustment of the wreath she passed through the yard. A flag decorated with many stitches flapped in the wind reading ‘Texas Two’. Sometimes she looked up at it and still laughed at its ridiculousness. Though since she’d been responsible for it, that was the same as laughing at her old self. Her old self, she pondered, the Violet who hadn’t dared to entertain the thoughts she did now. When had that person changed? She didn’t think she’d ever know.

Inside the old admin building echoed a section of Chopin’s ‘Winter Wind’ in A minor. The anxious dance her nerves were doing calmed. Louis would be finished teaching piano lessons for the day. Her stride became confident. If she was going to make a sappy fool of herself it would be out of public view. Of her old mannerisms she could at least keep that one. 

He sat continuing to play though he knew she’d come by the pattern of her gait. His lack of a tongue elevated a need to pay notice to the finer things in other ways. She leaned against the doorway and folded her arms. They carried on in silence. Violet closed her eyes again, taken by her imagination. The shrieking highs and nervous lows seemed to pull every worry she’d ever had like threads off a loom. 

She saw Clem’s head bashed open like a ripe fruit, or the paling of her bite ridden skin and its missing chunks. Right behind it came the thought of AJ’s neck dyed red as he took Tenn’s place at the bottom of a herd and picked clean. Their home at the bottom of smoldering ashes. Worst of all above the extremes, she would bare her soul for Clem greater than she already had to see her spirit fall. In one moment for some reason or other everything they’d made of love would fracture, and Violet might as well quit the venture entirely. 

As if reading the tone of her thoughts the music stopped. Her eyes reopened to find Louis scribbling on a scavenged notepad. With a grin he turned it to face her. His eyes twinkled with their unquenchable charm.

‘That get your attention?’

She tucked her raw feelings back into their cage. The processed version rolled off her tongue.

“A little too hard Lou. Guess that means you’ve graduated from sucking.”

She finished with a soft laugh seeing him flip her off. The way he wiggled his eyebrows told her he found it funny. He gestured for her to come over and made room on the piano seat. She sat with her hands folded and stared nervously into her lap. Her stomach churned while the words she wanted to find were slow to come. At the touch of his hand on her shoulder she shook her head.

“It’s nothing bad I’m only overthinking again. I just...tonight I’m gonna propose. I want to. What do you think?”

He smiled and stared wide eyed filled with glee. A rush of air she guessed equated to a gasp came as he clapped. It made her blush and seem sheepish curling into herself. The sound of Louis scribbling excitedly refocused her attention.

‘About damn time! I almost thought you’d never bring it up. My advice, take her to a spot important to you guys. Get her thinking about all the deep stuff you’ve done together. If you’re really feeling it serenade her. That’s what I’d do.’

“I want her taking me seriously not laughing her ass off. By now my singing’s gotta be shitty.”

‘Oh come on Vi, live a little. Singing or not the point is you may never do this again. Make it a memory. You two were doing just that all this time anyway.’

Violet sighed and rested her forehead against the piano, defeated. The keys she pressed let out a wail. Another note was put before her.

‘Don’t sulk tell her how you feel. Clem’s gonna love you more than she already does.’

“...How do you know she won’t say no?”

He cocked his head and interrogated her with a bewildered stare. Her stomach sank; her voice had been whiny like a child’s. In the end, she was being silly. It made the confidence she’d mustered drop in shame.

‘We don’t know Vi but if she’s stuck around this long it means something. Clem’s the kind of girl to take off if she really didn’t believe in what she sees.’

She groaned and the keys played an ugly sound. 

“You’re right. I’m being a coward. I fucking hate it. I thought that side of me was done with.”

‘It’s ok to be scared. This is a big deal! You know how you’re guaranteed to fuck it up though? Having a negative attitude. Positive vibes Vi, positive.’

“Yeah yeah. You’ve given me an idea. If you see her tell her to come to the bell tower tonight. That it’s urgent.” She said with a lazy smile.

They bid each other goodbye leaving Louis to start up the piano solo of Kreisler’s ‘Liebesleid’. He’d reached halfway using a laser-focused concentration when another, larger presence filled the door. His deft hands stopped. Clementine smiled and clapped as she walked towards him. Without a moment to waste he ripped out the used pages of his notepad; they were stuffed into his coat pocket. It didn’t go unnoticed when Clem raised an eyebrow but gave no comment. 

She stood balancing her weight on her natural leg and leaning against the piano. Were she anyone else, even Violet, Louis would’ve sooner scolded her for lacking manners. He looked down to find her prosthetic ( a newly improved design of Willy’s built with higher mobility in mind ) still in good condition. 

“Caught ya.” She said giggling.

He looked up at her strong face, thick eyebrows, and overwhelming mane of curly hair. She had a stern beauty that always caught him by surprise for its rarity and strength. Violet sure knew how to pick ‘em. 

‘Wanted to make sure your foot was ok. Doubt Willy would screw it up but still y’know?’

“Thanks. Listen Louis...are you free for a little while? There’s something I wanna talk about. I want your honest opinion.”

A glint in his eyes betrayed his excitement. His gut instinct gave him an inkling of what hovered unsaid. He almost laughed at the coincidence of it all. She slowly sat at his invitation and fiddled the keys. After a meandering pause she cleared her throat; he wore a grin.

“You know Violet and I have been together a while now. Longer actually than I ever thought possible. I’m grateful for it everyday. It’s sadly not something a lot of people can say. That’s why...I don’t know if this is still the right word but, I want her to be my wife.”

She stared at him and twiddled her thumbs. Rarely had he seen her hesitate, much less be meek. The sight made him sit up straighter, listen harder. From the corner of her eye she caught his expectant stare. 

“I guess regardless of what it’d be called these days that’s what I want. She’s too important for me to lose. It’s time she really knows it and how I feel.”

For a moment she gauged his face for the slightest reaction. The intensity radiating as if a conjured aura from her body reminded him of someone constipated; he again fought a laugh. It was as though she resigned herself to a do or die mission. A determination not a far cry from what she summoned up before a supply run. In his opinion, they both were taking this to lengths so ridiculous it bordered on comical. That however would remain a secret.

He nodded with enthusiasm and that seemed to lighten her worry. On his notepad this time he thought hard before writing. 

‘It can mean whatever you want it to Clem. You love her, that’s the most important part. I say go for it. Any plans on how you’ll ask?’

“Well there’s really only one way right? I have to tell her outright, just not sure where to do it.”

‘Y’know she asked to meet with you tonight on the bell tower. There couldn’t be a better spot if you ask me.’

“Did she? That makes this easier.”

She sighed in relief and rested her head on his shoulder.

“I love her Louis. More than she might know.”

‘Tell her not me.’ he said with a smile.

After dinner the night air blew warm embracing the essence of summer. Clementine found Violet pacing in front of the ladder they’d once helped construct. She remembered seeing her like this then too, anxious over everything turning out right. Her suspicion turned on and her eyes narrowed in concern. She had yet to be noticed from a distance. 

In seconds that weighed like minutes she sighed and mumbled to herself. 

“Alright Clementine all you have to do is talk. Sure Clementine, like it’s that simple. You’re stalling now. Get yourself together.”

“You sure don’t mind keeping a girl waiting.”

Violet’s voice seized her attention from the grasping hands of her thoughts. Before she could say another word laughter filled the silence. It made her blush even as she frowned in mock irritation. 

“I didn’t think you’d notice.”

“I wouldn’t have if we weren’t the only ones here. Feelin ok?”

“Yeah just was wondering what’s on your mind to have us meet at this place.”

She smiled feeling a kiss on her cheek. Violet wore the look that always came when an idea longed to burst out before it drove her mad. Clementine slowly trailed her eyes up and down as though they were meeting for the first time anew. The demure air in her posture broke the obscuring fog of Clementine’s own nerves. Her expression softened into a look of curious wonder. 

The streaks of moonlight cast across Violet’s face bent her grin toward the mysterious. She ran her thumb over Clementine’s knuckles and gestured at the ladder. 

“Come with me and you’ll find out.”

Above them the stars filled the horizon into an infinity none would ever measure. The moon aided their brightness and bathed all it touched in an ethereal glow. The ground beneath her feet shined as though she walked on a river of silver; as though she were weightless. A breeze carrying the scent of flowers and wood-smoke, of life below, rustled Violet’s hair. Clementine felt her heart thud louder. 

The bell tower had remained untouched through the years save for a few new cracks and crumbling bricks. Vines entangled a section of broken stone railing, the same as the first night they’d sat together. She dared to imagine the ghosts of their old selves caught in a roller-coaster of teenage emotions; each burning more intensely than the last into love. They stopped and leaned against the railing beside the spot. 

They were gazing at the sky when Violet spoke first; her thoughts tumbled from her like a waterfall. A part of Clementine was relieved. 

“So uh, Clem, I wanna be real honest with you. These past seven years went by so fast some days it feels like my head’s spinning keeping track. All this below us? All these people? If you’d told me before we’d be dealing with this I’d have called you crazy. Hell, if you’d told me there’d be a time where I could have nights not having to worry something would break into the school, I’d never believe it.”

She took a break to breathe and look over the dozens of smaller lights in varying buildings that stretched into the pushed back treeline. Each one signified a condensed hope and dream from those it kept warm. Their numbers lifted Violet’s spirit to continue. Clementine stood mesmerized, her eyes trained to Violet and Violet alone. It was as though each word revealed a deeper truth than the last.

“We wouldn’t be here right now if it weren’t for you. I know you can say it was a group effort, it’d be true, but you’re our motivation. I don’t think I’d be half the person I am today if I hadn’t met you and AJ. Point is...remember when I said once I couldn’t imagine life without you?”

“...Of course. It took me completely by surprise.”

“I still feel that way. Clem, I want you in my life till it ends someday.”

The breeze stirred into a mild wind as Clementine’s eyes widened softly. She stumbled to speak then went silent when Violet leaned closer. Her entire body pleaded a need for recognition, as if another chance would never come again.

“Marry me.”

Without hesitation Clementine pulled her into an embrace as their lips met. Her hands wandered to cup Violet’s face and not let go. They pressed together and sunk slowly to their knees. When at last they separated neither cared if anyone below had seen. Violet’s eyes shut in bliss feeling a gentle stroke on her chin and kisses peppering her face. There came a whisper on the verge of tears into her ear when Clementine hugged her tighter.

“You beat me to it you ass.”

“Heh, I can still keep you guessing.”

“Troublemaker.” came the reply with a grin.

AJ stood watching Ruby arrange bundles of wildflowers with the same care she gave all things. Though only twelve he’d nearly reached her height. He’d lost some inches shortening his hair to a buzz cut hidden beneath Clementine’s faded baseball cap. It was something he continued to be reminded of when Ruby’s motherly presence loomed so large. 

“Hey there shorty could ya give me a hand? These bouquets can get real messy.”

“Sure, but it’s Alvin Junior.”

“I know I know. Reminding me ain’t gonna help us no faster. I’ll tell Clem if you do good.” 

That made the hint of sourness in his expression bloom into an excited smile. Around them a small team of five busied themselves with the same task. They moved as Ruby directed to arrange each in a circle open only at the northern and southern sides. A myriad of colors blue, white, orange and so on occupied the center of the restored sports field. AJ sweated hoisting another bundle for the ring and nearly dropped it. Wordlessly Ruby caught it before it hit the ground and with that the last of it lay in place. 

They stepped back performing a final check several times until Ruby proved satisfied. On a clear spot amidst the flurry of activity around them (an army of chefs led by Omar; Willy’s team arranged benches) AJ rested. A sheen of sweat covered his face and exhausted eyes. The first clue he’d received for what lay ahead came when Louis slipped him a note and a wink at breakfast one morning. ‘Congrats on the new mom kid!’ he hadn’t understood what it meant; a part of him still felt he didn’t even when Clementine explained that no, weddings weren’t something you ate. 

As he felt the day’s work burn in his muscles he concluded whatever it looked like had to be worth the aches. He spotted Aasim approaching with a squirming bundle in his arms; AJ sprung to his feet. Every lecture he’d ever received on slacking echoed in his mind in unison. Aasim towered over AJ’s stature exuding an almost regal air were it not for the slight gruffness of his beard. In his shadow AJ straightened himself and stifled a laugh when a baby’s hand swatted his chin. His stare spoke of a sense of urgency matched in his baritone voice.

“Have you seen Ruby around AJ? It’ll be her turn to look after Susanna during the ceremony. Seems like that’ll start any minute now.”

“We worked on the flowers together but after that I’m not sure. Maybe she went to check on Clem and Vi-”

“The brides are ready Aasim, just had to go fetch ‘em after their fittins’.”

From behind them Ruby appeared with a blushing Clementine and Violet in tow. She pressed a kiss to Aasim’s cheek before reaching for the baby. 

“Guess everything’s ready. I’d have come sooner but we had to finish cataloging that cache of recovered books in the library.”

“It’s alright I’ve got her, you just focus on those two. Lord knows they’re eager to get started and I don’t blame ‘em.”

Susanna piped up in her mother’s arms and stretched a hand toward Clementine.

“Ba!”

“Hey there Susie you doing ok?” Clementine cooed as she let her nose be patted.

“Guuu-ba!”

“Looks like you’ve got a way with kids that aren’t AJ too.” 

“Well Vi she’s not Auntie Clem for nuthin’. Go on and say bye to Auntie Clem and Violet, Susanna.”

“Baaba.”

They waved in parting as Ruby left for the quickly filling crowd. Dozens well over a hundred sat chatting among themselves; more than a few stole curious glances to center stage. A hundred and so on more joined soon after. Clementine felt Violet graze her arm and gesture at a dazzled AJ. His eyes held awe that grew when Clementine pet his head. 

“Ruby told me you were a real help goofball. I appreciate it.”

“You guys...you both look amazing...”

“Thanks kid. The rest of it’ll blow your mind if you stick around and watch.”

Without needing to be told further AJ nodded and made way for the benches; he looked back only once wearing an encouraging smile. The field was bare save for its key players, and the crowd fell into silence. Aasim signaled to take places then addressed those seated with a wave of his arms. Clementine and Violet stared at one another on opposite ends of the ring; Clementine’s grin made Violet blush and stare at her feet.

“Good afternoon everyone! We’re here today to witness the ceremony of a union; one long in waiting. This couple wishes to affirm their love for one another through a promise of lifelong devotion. You may both enter the ring.”

They obeyed having eyes only for each other; it formed a safety net against the pressure of so many others upon them. Softly Violet mouthed “It’s ok.”

“We’ll begin the professions of love. Clementine you may start.”

She cleared her throat and traced over every inch of Violet, of her flowing hair and single braid that whipped up from the back of her tunic in the breeze. The blue fabric lined with white threaded patterns complimented her pale green eyes. A crown of flowers adorned her head. Every detail was memorized.

“For as long as we’ve known each other you’ve supported me; even if you took time to open up. There’re so many moments, so many close calls where I’d never have made it out if it weren’t for you. Each day makes me feel more alive than the last. Not just because of our friends, or because of all we’ve done, being able to know you’re there is enough. I dedicate this dance to your affection.”

Slowly she took a step forward then pivoted into a practiced twirl. A dance of passion sent her traveling about their arena. Sweat flew from her brow and splattered in places on her belt’s spinning tassels. One misplaced step threatened to topple her but slyly she recovered before worry could disturb Violet. 

With a grin she launched into a new phase. Her arms spun and, where able, her legs kicked. The movements blended so fluidly few could pinpoint the moment aggression gave way to softness. To even fewer it revealed its heart; a reflection of her lover’s metamorphosis. 

There were moves describing sarcastic defenses, cowardly silences, sections mapping the rush from kind words and intimate quiet. As if anew they were pulled into the haze of honest kisses, the whirlwind of lovemaking that went deep into sleepless nights. On occasion they were plunged headfirst before icy fear and protective worry that pricked to the bone. Those moments would be quickly broken by a return to memories of the warmth in living.

Almost instinctively the full result of a week’s practice strengthened its control as she neared the end. Her mind sank into an empty plane, speaking only what little remained unsaid through her rhythm. When it was done the sight of Violet brimming with tears told her everything. Wordlessly she gathered herself then bowed.

Aasim stood in entranced silence. The edges of his solemn eyes had grown misty, defying his self restraint. He gestured and caught Violet’s attention away from her thoughts.

“Feelings have been expressed that require an answer. Violet, you may give your reply.”

“I’ve heard them. Clementine you taught me it’s alright to feel; that holding everything in and running from help is what makes a coward. Choosing who I want to be in life by learning from others is a gift that takes courage. You kept trying even when I wanted to shut you out. I’d never seen anyone so dedicated. Because of you I remembered the people who care about me, away from the ghosts I wanted to chase. I dedicate this dance to your strength.”

This time the was an elegant start defined by tight turns and precise footwork. Each move linked firmly to the last and the next. Clementine’s chest tightened as she watched; her breath caught in her throat. Within the dance she felt herself be peeled back. There was the Clementine she saw herself as, steel willed and cautious, in places fragmented. It morphed to show the rare moments of worry and the storms that wracked her in anxiety. In a few moments that still churned her stomach she felt a lurking shadow of the cruelty that’d tumbled so easily from her whenever she’d been cast astray. 

Her body grew hot, her shoulders heavy before she saw the dance shift and the feeling passed. There was a return to gentleness and the power in mercy. Like glittering bubbles memories flooded her mind fresh as they days they’d been reality. She’d cried and screamed and torn her hair each time someone had been lost; yet she pressed forward hopeful. She’d witnessed distrust seize people’s eyes as they coveted rather than strive for understanding; yet never closed her ears to humanity. She’d cried awake sunken to the floor and teeth grit replaying each life she’d taken, each selfish need she’d served; yet her remorse was proof she retained a soul. 

Tears trickled down her face, and she felt not a care to stop them. The sensations of the present returned only when Violet had finished. In an instant that moved in her vision like slow motion she was embraced. Aasim’s voice grounded her beyond the sensation of Violet’s heart beating in time with her own. 

“We have witnessed them speak to each other’s deepest self. In this they have found unity, and taken hold of that which they seek for themselves in another. It is time for the final step. Let them now dance together and display the bond when two become one. Music for them, if you’d all please.”

Clementine felt Violet shift against her the crowd clapped a beat. 

“You ready?”

“Yes.”

They took up position smiling through their flushed faces. The dance moved slow and contemplative as if longing to savor each moment. All else began to fade replaced by a rhythm that held a peaceful trance. Neither kept track of how long they swayed until Clementine said,

“Why don’t we show them what we’ve got?”

“Ready when you are partner.” Violet replied grinning.

In one motion they separated still holding on by one hand, throwing themselves into a spin that ended in a twirl. Violet laughed finding herself again in Clementine’s arms then out once more. She took her turn twirling Clementine, her eyes sparkling and heard racing. They spun holding each other then separated to link arms each facing the other’s back but continuing to lock eyes. It prefaced another separation as they spun alone only to jump back together. At this they laughed.

Violet’s vision was filled by the bright sky when Clementine dipped her then leaned close. Violet wrapped her arms around her neck and pressed their foreheads together.

“I love you.”

“Love you back.”

“Promise?”

“Hell yeah.”

Their kiss found Clementine with hands roaming her hair but she didn’t care. A ways away the roar of the crowd filled their ears. Beside them Aasim clapped and wiped his face. He turned one last time to project his proud voice.

“I present to you all a married Clementine and Violet! May they have a happy life together.”

“That better not have jinxed anything Aasim.” Violet teased with a snicker.

“Shut it and go have fun with your wife. You guys deserve it.”

“Thanks for all this, really.”

“Keep treating her right Clem.” he replied smiling.

The after party blew quickly into a spectacle. Louis had attracted a cheerful gathering as he played pieces back to back. Clusters of people filled the admin building to the seams; further groups had piled into the school yard. The campus in its entirety lay at the heart of town from which hundreds of simple houses, storage, and shops fanned out. The multitude of guests had been guaranteed with more passing colorful banners AJ had overseen. 

A few carried weathered but functioning instruments, guitars, harmonicas, large and small drums. They formed a small band that led the tune of those dancing in the yard. A sizable banquet had been prepared from their surplus; beside Ruby chatted with Aasim while Susanna sucked on her bottle. From the balcony at the admin building’s face Clementine stood observing. Out of her regal wedding attire she nearly blended into the revelry were it not for her commanding presence. 

Any tension soon melted from her when she felt Violet’s arms around her waist. She smiled and leaned into the nuzzle against her neck. 

“How’s it feel? Thinking of anything?”

“I was wondering how things are closer to the wall and that group we sent out a day ago.”

“You mean Randy.”

“None of us can afford him screwing up. He’s been very...vocal lately. It’s giving me bad thoughts.”

“Hey none of that ok? Today’s our day to celebrate, we can worry about later when it comes.”

Clementine closed her eyes and pressed their foreheads together. 

“Where’s AJ?”

“With the other kids. Us grown ups are too intense for him right now. I don’t blame him, he seemed happy though.”

“I can think of one reason to justify that.” Clementine teased in a husky voice, her hand wandering below Violet’s waist.

“Clem not while everyone’s around.” came the reply followed by a giggle.

“Just teasing. We can go over it all later.”

“In that case you’ve got my interest.”

“Really? How about something like this to start.”

She pulled Violet closer and leaned her back against the railing. She studied the way Violet tilted her head as their lips met; saw the beauty in how her hair framed her face. Slowly she traced her fingers along her jaw, welcoming the feel of Violet grabbing a fistful of her shirt. They broke off at the whistles thrown at them from below. One glare and eye roll from Clementine silenced them. Violet chuckled. Her arms wrapped lazily around Clementine’s neck. 

“I’ll never forget today.”

“I hope not. If you ever do I’ll remind you.”

“Heheh, yeah.”

The music and chatter came to a sudden halt with a banging at the yard’s iron gates. Shocked dancers parted a pathway for a team in neat ranks, their boots marching in step. A man with a thick trimmed beard and thicker hair led them and adjusted the grip of his spear. It had a long curved edge akin to a beast fang and tassels that jiggled in time with the pistol on his belt. The well kept armor he wore, decorated in the motif of a cougar as his rank allowed, enhanced his bulk. His burly arms were defined by gnarled scars that betrayed his continued Old World hobby of rigorous exercise. 

He signaled a stop by raising his fist and was immediately obeyed. His beady eyes stared at Clementine without faltering. She read the challenge within them clearly and stood stiff backed,unwavering. From the crowd she felt multitudes looking to her in surprise that yielded to fear. Beside her Violet’s expression hardened and simmered with open disgust. The man spoke, his voice embed by a natural cunning.

“We’ve returned from our expedition with a generous offering from the community to the west.”

“Welcome back, I trust everything went well along with it.”

“Yes, yes of course. Nice to see we’ve been missed.” he said letting a sarcastic bite slip into his tone as he looked around.

“C’mon Randy we can talk about this anywhere but in front of everyone. There’s no need to put on some kind of show.” Violet added. 

His eyes studied her in frayed patience then flit back to Clementine. He made a gesture and his group dispersed.

“Sure I can be civil and play house with those wearing the big pants. Let’s have a private chat.”

He disappeared into the admin building. Clementine sighed deeply and let herself slacken. Tenderly Violet touched her hand, she took it without hesitation. She stared into the sky gathering herself until at last all her courage was summoned. With a nod she followed Violet’s lead into her office, something more animal than man fast approaching.

[theguardianangel-fanfiction]

⭐️

Fanfic Writers: Director’s Cut

Reblog this if you want readers to come into your ask box and ask for the “director’s commentary” on a particular story, section of a story, or set of lines.  

Or, send in a ⭐star⭐  to have the author select a section they’ve been dying to talk about!

Thank you so much for submitting this! There’s one section of chapter 26 (We Hope For Better Things) that had me stumped for literal months, and I wanted to kind of discuss my thoughts and concerns behind it, its canon counterpart, and the ways that I intended it to be interpreted; however, any way that you interpret it is fine.

Fun fact: Chapter 26 takes place during episode 2, A House Divided, which actually came out on my 13th birthday (March 4th, 2014).

This will contain spoilers for Once Bitten, Twice Dead chapter 26, We Hope For Better Things. 

First off, let me talk about my grief with season 2’s treatment of Christa. Now, I don’t absolutely hate that she was, presumably, killed off; I dislike the way that they, in fast succession, killed her and Omid off, never mentioning the baby except for a very brief hint in episode 4 (Clementine closes her eyes and says, “Not again…” when AJ doesn’t immediately move after he’s born). Because of the fact that Clementine is literally around Rebecca for almost the entirety of season 2, I found her lack of reaction to Rebecca’s pregnancy a bit strange.

Like I said, my dislike of the handling of Christa’s pregnancy and Clementine’s thoughts about it have a lot to do with the following paragraphs. I’m all for Clem being able to actually stop and deal with her thoughts and somewhat deal with her emotions (I mean, shit, read my other series posted on AO3 and you’ll see what I mean).

In chapter 26, we get a discussion between Rebecca and Clementine about the baby, Alvin, and the circumstances surrounding this, something that leaves Clem feeling ill, anxious, and somewhat guilty about what she knows that Alvin doesn’t. But the discussion also leaves Clem thinking of Christa, and of her thoughts about Christa’s pregnancy. She is also very prone to comparing Christa and Rebecca, as seen below:

Clementine grasped her left wrist, leaning against the railing as she spoke, watching Rebecca’s mannerisms. She looked nauseous, though Clementine found it hard to tell, as she hadn’t exactly known Rebecca very long; Christa used to get sick, something Clementine could easily remember, when she smelled Omid cooking meat of any kind over the fire. At least until she started showing. In the later stages of her pregnancy, Christa didn’t have any sickness or dizziness. But maybe Rebecca was different.

This only adds to the way that Clem adjusts to and interprets Rebecca’s pregnancy, something that I intend to tackle in another chapter (somewhat in chapter 29, and likely a lot further than that).

Crossing her arms, Clementine spoke in a low voice. “I don’t know.” She hesitated, but then sighed as she thought of herself. She was still alive. But she thought of Duck – the only other child that she spent longer than a few hours with after the beginning of the outbreak – and she thought of his end, and how Kenny couldn’t protect him.

How Kenny couldn’t protect Katjaa, either.

She thought of Christa and Omid. She thought of their child.

This brings up the subject of Christa and Omid’s child, and why Clem is so uneasy about Rebecca’s pregnancy is also brought up. This leads into Rebecca asking Clementine if she wants to listen to the baby kicking. Now, in the game, I said yes, and the scene was absolutely adorable. I love the relationship between Rebecca and Clementine. But with Clem’s past with Christa, I found it to be a little bit unrealistic. Clem obviously has feelings about the baby, and because it was never explored, we as players don’t know whether or not the subject was traumatic to her.

Now, I have almost the exact same age difference with my younger sister that Clementine and AJ have. I’m 18, and my sister just turned 7, if that gives you an idea. Therefore, I remember what my mother’s pregnancy was like, and I remember the kicking and listening to her kicking – it’s a very surreal thing, and for someone like Clem, who for all we know could have witnessed the baby’s death, it can be downright triggering.

That brings me to Clem’s actual apprehension.

“She’s kicking.” Rebecca suddenly spoke, removing both hands from her stomach. She used one to push herself forward, and the other to reach out to Clementine. “Wanna listen?”

Clementine froze in her spot, still staring Rebecca in the face. Rebecca’s expression didn’t change, and she instead reached for Clementine’s hand, but Clementine’s mind was elsewhere.

Can you feel her kicking, Christa?

I don’t think she has feet yet, Clem.

Blinking, Clementine retracted her hand from Rebecca’s grasp and slowly shook her head.

“Can I… just… feel?”

Rebecca’s lowered smile was subtle, but she nodded anyway as Clementine reached out again, her fingertips barely close enough to feel the fabric of Rebecca’s shirt. Carefully, she placed her palm flat against the area that Rebecca guided her to; immediately, Clementine felt her heart racing.

The smallest thump against Clementine’s hand made her slowly pull it away again.

I believe there was a developer or writer for season 2 that claimed that Christa miscarried, but after the amount of misinformation and, might I say it, somewhat lazy writing that came from season 2 (don’t get me wrong, I love season 2), I don’t like this reason.

Why? Well, in All That Remains, Christa appears to be about 7-9 months pregnant. My own mother was about that size when she was 8 months along with my sister, though my mom is 5’2 and Christa looks to be closer to 5’10-6’0. But I digress. Anyway, since Christa was probably about 8ish months along, a miscarriage would probably have killed her. The baby would be nearly fully formed by then. But in OBTD, my idea was a little bit more realistic – not every baby survives birth, and some die before labor.

Clem’s canon reaction, as she looks at a barely conscious newborn AJ, kind of gave me an idea. Stillbirth is a much more likely reason for Christa to lose that baby, as sad as it is. Either that, or SIDS (Sudden Infant Death Syndrome).

Therefore:

Clementine crossed her arms, but only to hide the sudden lack of feeling in her fingers as they trembled. Slowly, she asked, “Do you think she’ll be okay?” Just as soon as she spoke them, Clementine regretted it.

And just as soon as Clementine spoke and regretted speaking, Rebecca’s eyes became wide, her eyebrows scrunched. Clementine crossed her arms tighter, her shoulders arched as she did so, and mentally scolded herself. She shouldn’t have said that. She should not have said that.

Just because what happened with… Clementine’s thoughts were cut off when Rebecca spoke in a hushed voice.

And a little bit later, we have:

“I’m… I’m not trying to be weird.” Clementine turned back to Rebecca, “I just… I don’t know.” Once again, she crossed her arms and peered over the railing. Both Sarah and Sarita had abandoned the Christmas tree. “I was just… thinking.”

“About what?”

“Christa.”

“Your friend.” Rebecca placed her hand on her bump and looked into the same direction that she had before, as if expecting Alvin to walk back into the room at any moment. “Why?”

“She was pregnant for a while.” Clementine paused, biting the inside of her mouth and her tongue. She avoided Rebecca’s face. “And I don’t like thinking about it.”

Even later than this, we get a bit more confirmation and insight into Christa’s baby:

Clementine’s gaze focused on Rebecca’s bump just as much as she focused on the words that Rebecca spoke earlier – It’s not his. As in, it wasn’t Alvin’s. Rebecca wasn’t carrying a baby that was her husband’s. If Clementine’s very limited education on the art of where babies came from was any less, then she wouldn’t have even believed Rebecca. Yet, here Rebecca was, pretending that nothing was wrong. Flirting back to her husband.

Her stomach hurt, and Clementine locked her hand onto her opposite arm as she weeded through the other possibilities. Clementine knew that Christa’s baby girl (as much as it pained her to think of that cold, dead face) was Omid’s. She had looked just like Omid, after all, with very little of Christa.

There was, I think, a 5 month difference in this update from the one before this one. Now, I suck at updating as it is, but I will fully admit that this scene stumped me for quite a while. I had a conversation with my dad, and I recall saying to him, “I need a realistic reaction to seeing a pregnant woman in the apocalypse. [Clem] is supposed to have PTSD and her last interaction with a pregnant woman resulted in the death of the baby. You got any advice?”

My dad actually did help a little bit with a reaction; he suggested avoidance, and I was like, “Holy shit, that’s true.” And that’s how I wrote Clem. I have written Clem with implied PTSD and mild anxiety before, but I felt that this was a different situation, because this is meant to be a form of establishing her character in OBTD. She’s similar to one of the ways that I played her in season 2, which is someone who only really talked a lot to certain people (like Walter or Sarah) and was silent in certain situations (like at the dinner at the lodge or after Sarita’s bitten death in episode 4 when Kenny goes off on her).

I’m doing my best to be the best writer that I can, especially while writing from the POV of an 11 year old who has experienced violence, kidnapping, emotional manipulation, and has now seen both childbirth and infant death. Part of the reason that some of more recent chapters have taken so long is this reason, and the surrounding circumstances.

Because of how long OBTD is meant to go for (trust me, we are barely even started), I have to establish both Clem’s actual, legitimate fears and her more childish fears and quirks. I’m trying to do this without her being that mature for her age; yes, she is mature for her age in OBTD and canon, but she is not an adult and I absolutely cannot stand when people write her as so.

It’s different when we’re talking about season 4, where she’s literally been raising a child on her own for quite a while, but in season 2? No, she’s still going to have some childish thoughts, fears, and quirks.Her connecting Rebecca and Christa is, in my opinion, something that realistically would happen if the events of TWDG were real and she were an actual person going through this. The establishment of her issues in not connecting a trauma and a similar act are something that I think was somewhat touched upon in season 2, but I wanted to look a more realistic angle.

In summary, I’m looking to get further into her psyche and how a child in her situation would actually react, but in a more consistent way. Stories need consequence, and I think the small changes in the way that characters feel about each other should actually impact their actions. She feels uneasy Rebecca’s pregnancy, and later what she believes is an affair, and she feels guilty from keeping this from Alvin. Hopefully, I can do this justice as time goes on.

Thank you for your ask, and thank you to anyone who made it to the end. 😊

[yellowsugarwords]

Walking Dead Game FanFiction - “Oh My Darling”

Title: Oh My Darling Characters: Clementine, Louis, AJ, Violet Summary: Clementine is having a bad day, and Louis decides to do everything he can to make her smile. Author's Note: My love remains despite news of Telltale’s closure. I’m here for the long run, my friends. :) Requested By: DanniBoi12 on Wattpad support me with ko-fi ♡ ---------♥️♥️♥️----------

“I haven’t seen Clem all day.” Louis claimed, throwing himself at Violet’s feet. He propped his back against the chair she was stationed on, and sighed.

The blonde glanced down, eyebrow raised, confused as to why Louis was coming to her, of all people, to complain about his woes. “Have you checked her room?”

Louis scoffed. “That’d be creepy.”

Violet rolled her eyes. The boys at Ericson were ridiculous. “That’s probably where she is, smart guy.”

Noticing Louis’ silence — unnatural for the teen, especially after an insult — Violet lowered the comic she was scouring to study him. He sat silently, blankly staring ahead. How odd that this time he wasn’t teasingly joking about bothering others, he was genuine — a rare feat. “Louis--”

“Yes?” The male’s name had hardly left the blonde’s lips before he swivelled around, leering forward like an eager dog, ready to lap up whatever advice she was to give.

Louis hesitated. Out of the corner of her eye, Violet could see him scratching the back of his head. “You think?”

“She isn’t doing well, Louis.” Violet said, abandoning the prospect of getting her reading done, flopping the comic against her chest in defeat. “I don’t know what’s wrong, but something is. Trust me.” She leered forward, ridding any ounce of foolishness in her gaze as she bore into him. “Check on her.”

Louis still lingered in his spot. Regardless, Violet remained still, refusing to touch the comic folded on her chest. Seeing Violet’s persistence — her willingness to drop her own task at hand to push him — Louis knew she was for real.

Without a second thought, without even a second glance, Louis leapt to his feet and scurried out of the room. His arms were flailing and his body flopped the entire way out, almost falling before he made it through the door.

All Violet did was scoff and reopen her comic. “Boys.”

Louis only stopped his urgent run when he hit the end of Clem’s hallway, allowing a few moments to calm his nervous quivering and catch his breath. Violet was right, Clem didn’t hide for no reason. Something was going on, and he hoped she would appreciate one of her teammates — her friends — looking out for her.

Feeling comfortable, believing that his breathing had calmed enough to not be embarrassingly obvious, Louis gained the courage to wander down the few doors he needed to reach Clementine’s.

He hesitated, his courage waning, the oak of her door suddenly intimidating him from making another move. Then, swallowing his fear, he knocked.

Silence.

Louis raised an eyebrow, glancing under the door for any signs of a shadow approaching. Nothing. Fearing she just hadn’t heard him, he knocked again.

Again, he could hear nothing. After a moment, his fear that the girl wasn’t in beginning to wash over him, was there a creak from inside.

“Clementine?” He called, brows knit. “I came to see how you were doing, if you were in here.” There was another beat of silence, the movement from inside ceasing. He bit his lip. “It’s Louis I just want to make sure you’re okay.” He finally managed.

Then, in a beat, the door peeled back.

There stood Clementine, hat off, hair dishevelled, face pale. The bags under her eyes screamed that she hadn’t slept in days, and the sluggishness of her shoulders made it seem like she’d been ill — like the life had been sucked out of her.

Louis’ brows caved. His shoulders, previously so high in pride and forced-confidence, crashed seeing her in such a state. “Clem,” he breathed.

The twitch of her eyebrow gave away that she noticed his small changes — Louis’ indications of worry. “I’m fine, Louis.”

She definitely didn’t look it. Louis’ continued to examine her softly, gently, as if his stare was brushing against her like a tender touch. Even though not physical, Clementine could still feel its pity.

“Clem, I just--”

The girl sighed, turning away from the door but leaving it open for him to watch her. Closing it in his face would’ve been rude, after all. “I appreciate you coming to check on me, but I’m fine.”

Louis scrunched his nose. Clementine wasn't turned to see it, even though she loved when he did it. “Clem, you’ve been hiding away all day.”

“I wanted a day to myself,”

“It’s almost time for dinner,” Louis countered, baffled at the passiveness she was showing his concern. “It’s like you’ve been lying down all day, and that doesn’t sound healthy.” He hesitated, waiting for an acknowledgement. Clementine stared at her hat on the desk between her bed and AJ’s, picking at the falling ‘D.’ “Are you sick?”

Clementine stood still, admiring her hat, before turning to face him. “Why do you care?” She breathed, her hair bobbing as she spoke. “Why does it matter that I’ve been in here all day?”

Louis’ brows furrowed, drinking in the odd posture the girl had. She was strong, attempting to be assertive, but was failing. Her shoulders sagged, her face was pale, her body reeling from a lack of sunlight. “I care about you, Clem.” He stated, as if it were obvious. “Seeing you hurting hurts me.”

Clementine’s face remained neutral, but Louis could swear he saw a twitch in her brow. One of her demeanour cracking.

“Clem,” he breathed. He didn’t push, however. Hearing her name, so soft and sad, watching the way his eyes contorted on hers reeling in hurt themselves, got to her. She turned, sitting on her bed, blankly staring forward.

Louis didn’t move. He stood still, only wandering a few paces closer, so he could get a better look at her.

“I can feel it, you know.” She breathed, so quietly it was almost inaudible. Her eyes closed, her head turning away from him and toward her desk. “I can feel it in the air this time of year.”

Louis hesitated, his hands wavering. His instinct was to rush forward, sit at her side, and rip her into the warmth of his coat. He didn’t want to push his boundaries. Instead, he bit the inside of his cheek. “What do you mean?”

Her eyes opened, but he refused to look at them. He hated the way it made him feel. “The air feels thick.” Her gaze turned to the window, lessening its hurt against the male across from her. “It’s Lee.”

Louis didn’t need more elaboration than that. He could tell it all by her gaze, by the way it drifted to the sky, by the way her tongue lingered on his name. It was the time of year that he died. He and her parents both.

“I’m sorry,” Louis breathed. “That must be painful.”

“Yeah,” Clementine breathed, squeezing her hands together, letting the knuckles crack. “It hurts to remember, but it would hurt more to forget.” Her brows furrowed as her gaze fell to the floor, watching the way Louis’ hand wavered by his leg. She was shocked he hadn’t rushed the bed in normal Louis-fashion, attempting to hold or reassure her. Somehow, he knew she needed distance. She admired that.

She glanced up, letting her gaze meet his. Seeing the panic and heartbreak that sat there caused a flash of pain in her chest. Remembering used to only hurt her back when it was just her and AJ — when she was on her own. But now, back with a group, back with people who cared, her nostalgia harmed everyone. She forgot how it felt to be interconnected. How it felt to hurt because others were hurting.

“Would you like some time alone?” Louis asked, feeling her gaze struggle against his own, as if it were a wounded animal, struggling away.

Clementine nodded, her head lowering — the animal vanishing into the woods. “If you don’t mind.”

Louis nodded, squeezing his hands into fists to prevent himself from reaching out to touch her. “I’ll be around if you need me.”

She nodded, but her gaze didn’t move. It wasn’t until Louis was at the doorway, crossing the barrier into the hallway, did he hear her breathe a soft “thank you.” Saying nothing, he closed the door and stood there.

Seeing Clementine in pain took him out of commission. It sucked the soul out of him — the one so fond of cracking jokes and flirty remarks. If Clementine couldn’t be her strong, usual self, if the strongest girl he knew had even succumbed to the world, how could he manage it?

It was odd to say that he missed her, but he did. She was only a door away, but that wasn’t the Clem he knew. It wasn’t the one he missed. He missed the Clementine he had grown fond of. The one he admired when she burst into their lives, head-bleeding, but still swinging.

He smiled at the thought, the grin snapping him out of his trance. He was drawing a blank at what he could do to bring her back — for both our sake.

“Is Clem any better?” Turning, Louis caught sight of AJ, standing at the end of the hall. He was holding a slip of paper in one hand and a pencil in the other. His only pencil.

Louis gave a sad smile, kneeling to the boy’s level as he drew closer. “She still seems down.”

AJ’s hopeful demeanour crashed. “Oh.”

If seeing Clementine upset didn’t crush Louis enough, seeing AJ broken by it destroyed him even more. “Hey, it’s okay,” he breathed, setting a hand on the child’s shoulder. “Let’s come up with something to make her smile.”

AJ’s distraught expression washed over, becoming neutral more than anything. He nodded, his gaze averting down the hall. It only took a moment for his eyes to spark up and flip back to Louis, a finger jetting in the same direction. “I know what would work.”

Louis’ stare, following the child’s finger, landed on the music room just down the hall. The doors were wide open, and the piano sat in plain view.

“She loved it when you played that song for her,”

Louis hacked, choking on his own spit. “She did?”

AJ nodded, eyes wide and eager. “I haven’t seen her smile that way in a long time.”

Louis smiled, an earnest curl of the lips that he could see brought a spark of joy to AJ’s face. Not only had AJ found a way to make the girl smile, but he’d also given Louis the courage he needed to leave a lasting mark. “You know,” he said, pushing himself to his feet. “I have an even better idea.”

For the rest of the afternoon, Clementine went undisturbed. She sat alone in her room, praying that AJ didn’t wander in and see her in her miserable, distraught state. The only time she left was to get water. As she crossed the safe threshold of her room, she heard the clomping of footsteps beside her.

“Clem!”

Turning, the teen came face to face with Louis, scurrying from the other end of the hall. She shrugged her shoulders, unfazed by his brisk entry. “What’s up?”

“I need to show you something.”

Clem gave him a desperate look, a pleading one to be left alone. He knew what the day was like for her, and he knew she wanted to be left in her misery. In a day or two she would shake the feeling, but not yet. Definitely not yet. “Louis…”

“It won’t take long,” he assured, hands hushing her. “You can leave whenever you want. I just want you to see it.”

She raised an eyebrow. She would be lying if she said she wasn’t slightly curious. It must have been fairly urgent if he was desperate to show her on a day when he knew her to be out of commission.

All Louis did was smile and hold out his hand. “What do you say?”

She took it.

Gently, being careful not to drag her, Louis guided her back the way he came — toward the music room. Catching on to where he was taking her, Clem raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.

Then, he opened the door.

At the piano sat AJ, eyes bursting at the sight of Clementine at the door. To the side of the piano sat three bowls of soup — the school’s dinner for the night — sitting on a table pushed between three chairs.

Clementine's eyes widened, her jaw dropped, and yet still, nothing emerged.

“Okay, AJ!” Hearing Louis’ voice, Clementine couldn’t fathom what was still to come.

Then, AJ began playing.

“Oh my darling, oh my darling, oh my darling Clementine,” he began, his voice soft and slow, hitting the keys slow and cautiously. Louis stood beside him, watching over, ensuring he hit all the right keys that they had been practising all afternoon. Occasionally, he hit a wrong key, to which Louis patiently helped correct.

The entire time, Clementine stood speechless, awestruck, amazed at what the two had put together for her.

As AJ finished, rounding off the last few keys, he glanced up and smiled at Clementine’s jaw-dropped, shocked expression.

Louis smirked, drawing closer to the girl, taking one of her shoulders in his palm. “We still have some work to do.” Louis assured, smirking.

Clementine turned to him, still gawking. “You’re teaching him piano?”

“I learned all of that today,” AJ claimed, beaming with pride. “He said he was willing to teach me more.”

Clem turned to Louis to see his gaze already on her, having never left. He shrugged as her gaze hit is. “I thought it would be fun.”

Clementine smirked, the classic-Clem smile Louis adored beginning to shine through the cheeks once filled with sorrow.

“Come now,” Louis claimed, guiding the teen toward the table. “You haven’t eaten all day.”

“What about the others?”

Louis smirked. “They’ve already been fed. We set aside three bowls.” Clementine raised an eyebrow, glancing down at AJ quizzically before back at the male before her. “You said you wanted to be left alone,” he claimed with a shrug, tugging out her chair for her to sit. “I figured we could be alone together,”

“The three of us.” AJ finished, casting a sweet smile at his mentor. Clementine’s dropped jaw lingered on the child, watching him make his way into his seat, pulling his bowl into his lap.

“There’s only so long someone can be alone,” Louis said, leaning against the top of her chair, casting a sweet smile her way. “But we know you wanted quiet. We thought this,”

His voice began to trail off as Clementine bounded closer to him. His words drifted, vanishing into nothing, as Clementine threw her arms around him, squeezing him into her emotion-filled chest. “Thank you,” she breathed, his jacket warm from her emotional breath.

Louis said nothing, only wrapped his arm around her back, and casting a smile toward AJ — beaming as he watched his caretaker feel joy once again.

Louis closed his eyes in joy, relishing in finally receiving the hug he had been waiting for.

It was well worth the wait. ---------♥️♥️♥️----------