#in a different way than watching as a kid

[binmeister]

I love you.

The first time he said I love you

Saja boys x Reader (Separate)

Making up for the heart break 🫶 the way abby and jinu are my faves… but i write longer segments for the others…

CW: fluff, mostly mushy stuff - primarily gender neutral - not proofread

Jinu

Not the smoothest guy, are you?

He likes the way you laugh, the way you’re willing to mess with him when he pokes fun at you - the soft push and pull between you two that felt natural, like home. He likes the late night talks you guys have, either out on a walk enjoying the silence of the streets or moments like now where you’re laid side by side on his bed barely a hair away from each other staring at the ceiling and you don’t notice when his head has turned to watch you as you spoke - goofy grin on his face as he watches your face scrunch up whenever you recount something or the tilt in your lips as you let out an infectious laugh.

You were rambling about idol comebacks right now, both jumping into a detailed discussion on which group sounded good this time around and who could maybe try a different concept. You talked with your hands and he couldn’t help but laugh a little at how enthusiastic you were about the topic, pointing at his direction with your hands but not turning your head when you instructed him on what his group should totally try next comeback. The topic shifted again and it kept going around in circles where you’d start one, and then he’d continue, then he’d start a new topic, then you’d continue. It was comforting.

“I love you.” He blurts out, you’d both finished laughing at some dumb interaction you had at work that day and it made you both freeze up. Slowly you turned your head, realising he had been staring at you the entire time and his face was as surprised as you were. Like he didn’t expect himself to say it.

Another beat of silence. He’s about to stammer an apology and brush it off when you laugh again, chest feeling light as you roll onto your side and then flop your upper body on top of him. The last thing he saw was your big grin and then you buried your face into his chest, he looked down at you and was so caught off guard that he couldn’t help the nervous laugh that he let out as he realised he could feel the heat from your face on his chest. 

Then he hears it, the muffle of your voice as you reply to him.

“I love you too.” You had said into his chest before finally tilting your head up to look at him, he looked a mess with his face reddening by the second and then you’re both giggling like little kids that confessed to their school crush. It takes a couple minutes before you manage to poke fun at him again, making a comment as you poke his cheek. “You’re such a loser.”

“Oh, I’m the loser?” Jinu fakes offense as he raises an eyebrow, eyes crinkled a little as he calms down and he instinctively tilts his head into where your finger is prodding into his cheek then his arms finally shift to wrap around you. “Aren’t you a loser for loving me?”

“Woah woah, chill out now. I might retract my statement.” You replied to his teasing and he feigned shock, like a scorned Victorian woman and you felt his hands squeeze your sides lightly as his voice lowered a little. “You wouldn’t.”

A sly expression slipped onto your face and before you could say you would, he shifted to hover over you, one hand moving up to cover your mouth as his other arm held his torso up - his turn now to have his upper body leant over yours and he smirked at how flabbergasted you now looked. “I’m not gonna let you.”

Then you licked his palm and he quickly removed his hand from your mouth as you started to giggle evilly at him, but you were silenced once again as he quickly shifted his head to press a brief kiss to your lips. And like that he’d backed off and started giggling as he got off the bed and started dodging your attempts at catching him.

“Hehehe.” 

Abs / Abby

Say it with your chest

He’s big, more muscle than man and knows he sometimes struggles with controlling his strength but you’ve never given him grief for it - never yelled at him for being too rough or how clumsy he could be given his stature. There’s something about the way you touch him like he’s fragile, like he could break if you’re not careful and it makes his stomach all fuzzy and his chest feel warm.

It was one of those times now where you’re both just hanging out in the guys’ apartment, laying on the living room floor and he’s got a little too much energy so he looks at you before lunging. Wrapping you up in a tight hug and rolling around with you in his playful attempt of a rough housing session, he’d never actually hurt you but he needed to get the cuteness aggression out. You’d smacked at his chest and his arms to get him to stop, complaints spilling out of your mouth in between all the giggles and gasps for air you let out and it made him melt. 

“Really? That’s all you got?” He exclaimed as he rolled you guys over for him to hover on top of you, an arm shifting to cage you in by your head as his other stayed wrapped around your waist - lifting your back slightly off the floor and you were still giggling at him. Another pathetic swat at his chest that barely felt like anything and then you’d reached up with a shaky hand to hold his cheek. The touch so light he could barely feel it and he leant his head into it, the warmth of your palm was so inviting.

“Y’know, I really love you.” Your eyes widened at his sudden confession as he looked down at you with a confident grin, boyish twinkle in his eyes as he expectantly looked at you for your response. You’d stammered and he wanted to devour you right then and there, head lowering enough so he can bump his nose against yours before he lifted himself up again. He wanted to hear you say it, say it with your chest that you loved him too.

“...love you....too..” He heard your soft voice and he feigned ignorance, squinting at you like he was hard of hearing as he watched your face scrunch up and your hands had shifted from him to shield your face. Or that’s what he thought til you smacked your cheeks and look at him with a determined expression.

“I love you!” You suddenly spoke at a much louder tone, not quite yelling but getting close to a shout with it and his eyes widened. Then he’s laughing. Eyes crinkling and he feels warm and giddy. You start laughing as well and then you feel his weight drop on top of you as his arm gives out from holding him up which makes you both start laughing harder. You managed to wriggle your arms free of his weight and he rolls to his side to free you, the arm still loosely under your waist stays in it’s place and you feel his hand squeeze your side gently.

“Now that’s what I like to hear.” He mused, head rested against the fluffy rug on the floor and you rolled your eyes a little at him. You’d shifted onto your side and reached your hands up to hold his face, cupping it like he was the most precious thing in the world and he can’t get that goofy grin off his face as you do then he’s shifting his head to press a kiss to one of your palms.

“Are you guys done?” Both of you froze, heads shifting slowly to see a very unimpressed Baby staring blankly at your tangled bodies on the living room floor, his eyes flicked from you guys to the TV before he continued on. “Controversial, I know, but this is a shared space.”

Mystery

He says it with his actions

He thinks he fell for you the day he had snapped and barked at you by mistake instead of Romance and instead of being scared or disturbed, you had let out a cute little snort that still plays in his head when he remembers the first time he met you.

“Nice to meet you too.” You had quipped as you looked at him with this mischievous glint in your eyes that made him falter, why did you seem different than the other humans he’s met? Romance was beside himself, absolutely folded over in laughter at what he witnessed and Jinu had arrived just to witness that last section of what had happened. He’d walked over and grabbed Mystery by the back of his neck and forced him into a 90 degree bow while apologising profusely to you. You laughed it off and said it was no biggie, thought it was a little funny and you hoped the guys had a good day.

He’d run into you again a few days later, gone on a walk to get away from the chaos that were his ‘demon bros’ as Abs liked to call them. You were in the park - same strip of bricked pavement where he had barked at you and it’s like you felt his gaze on you when you’d suddenly raised your head and looked at him. He saw the way you smiled, recognition evident on your face as you gave him a little wave. He waved back, smiling back at you and then felt a little tug at his heart as if telling him to go talk to you but he ended up ducking his head and continuing on with his walk.

Then he runs into you again another time. And again. And again. Actually he might have subconsciously been searching you out now that he thinks about it. But you don’t seem weirded out by the frequency that you’ve run into each other, rather you joke about it each time you bump into each other. 

“You sure you’re not stalking me?” You had said today as you run into the mysterious lavender haired guy for the umpteenth time in the last fortnight, you knew the coincidence of running into someone were low but never 0 so you just assumed it was crazy timing. Seeing as how you’d run into his two friends a few times as well, you just thought they must live around the area and like getting out. 

“I might be.” He joked. Your eyes widened a little and then it dawned on him that he’s never actually spoken to you during all of these brief encounters, normally just nodding at what you said or you’d both wave a small hello at eachother and then he sees your lips quirk up into a little smile. Like you found him cute.

“..guess I’m lucky then.” You’d said a little quieter, a bashful expression crossing your face as you shifted your weight from one foot to the other. No further words were exchanged - unknowingly your feet synced up and the two of you were walking together for a while. Indulging in the comfortable silence and then you bid each other a farewell til the next time you’d meet.

It was like a silent agreement that you’d be together every time you ran into each other after that, taking a walk around the plaza and then on some days you’d extend the walk meter by meter til your encounters went from a short 15 minute walk to an hour or more of mindlessly walking about together side by side - a respectable distance between you two that steadily grew smaller over time. Exchanging short conversation here and there but mostly just enjoying each others quiet company. 

The pair of you were nearing the end of today’s walk, steps slowing down to preserve what time you had left and then when you’d returned to the plaza you started in you’d stood still in silence. Both not really wanting to go home just yet and as you were saying goodbye and turning to leave, you felt a clammy hand grab onto your wrist gently and then you turned to look at Mystery mouth agape as if he didn’t expect his body to move on it’s own. You couldn’t help the nervous giggle you let out as you relaxed a little, turning back around to face him and then he let his instincts kick in.

It was gentle, mostly, his teeth accidentally clinked against yours as he incorrectly guessed the distance between your faces and he’d pressed his mouth against yours for a brief moment. A quiet confession. Your face was heating up and you looked dazed at his actions and then you were smiling again, a little pep in your step as you two decided to extend your walk a little longer for the night.

Hands linked together this time.

Romance

Signs it in your notebook

He likes that he doesn’t have to keep up the pretence, doesn’t have to keep up the flirty persona at all times with you and it was oddly reassuring. You’d tagged along for a fan signing event that your friends were frothing at the mouth for and when they got a little too excited at getting signatures from the Saja boys; you’d bowed a little and explained that they were really big fans. He picked up on how you excluded yourself from that.

He spotted you again at another fan signing event they held, not really paying attention to anything that was happening on stage and trying your best to look like you were having fun whenever one of your friends whipped around to look at you all starry eyed. During some brief fan interaction it was you and your friends again that had managed to luck out, the group were all exchanging conversation with your friends and you had hung back a little. Clearly not wanting to engage but not wanting to seem rude so you’d respond if anyone directed their attention at you, but then you’d quickly shift the other guys’ focus back onto your friends.

It was his turn to talk to you as your friends had switched seats to now be in front of the other guys, you’d plopped down on the seat across from him and before he could even get a word out to him you rose a hand to get him to stop.

“Don’t worry about it.” You’d said simply, his brain short-circuited as he tried to piece together what you meant by that but you’d bowed a little to show your respect before your eyes shifted back to your friends to make sure they didn’t do anything in front of their idols that may warrant concern. 

..you didn’t want him to flirt with you? It clicked now, how he normally greeted his fans and how he had just greeted your friends prior. He couldn’t stop himself from chuckling at that but he eased up, opting to ask if you’d like to just chat then. You seemed surprised at that but you agreed, the two of you just conversing mindlessly.

He asked you about your friends, you explained they were both part of the ‘Pride’ (with finger quotations) and you just wanted to support them because they get nervous without someone around to back them up. He asked if you were part of the Pride and you shook your head no. That question became a frequent one between you two as he realised this would not be your last encounter at one of these fan signing events.

He was impressed with your friends dedication when he saw you again the third time, but realised it was a different group of friends you were with and it seemed like you were just the designated chaperone at this rate. You caught his eye and gave a guilty smile at his smirk. When it was your time in front of him again, he asked you again if you were part of the Pride yet and this time you shrugged. Progress. He liked that. You spoke again, conversation not really about the event anymore and instead a little more about yourself - your interests and what you both were going to do after the event was over and the a lotted 15 minutes was up just like that. You bowed at each other as you stood from your seat to go down the line and you continued to chat with his other group mates, while he was interacting with the next fan he couldn’t help the way his eyes would flick over to where you were.

“She’s really pretty.” This fan had whispered at him and he was surprised at that, it didn’t seem like this fan was mad about it and just told him that he should totally go for it if he wanted. He put on the flirty persona after that - a little embarrassed at how he got caught out being ‘unprofessional’ as Jinu would tell him but the event still went smoothly.

The fourth time he saw you in the crowd at their latest event, you were alone. No friends around you and when your eyes met he saw the way you froze like a deer in headlights and sheepishly waved at him. The same song and dance as you’re sat in front of him, this time you’ve brought your own notebook instead of the freebie poster handed out at the start of the event.

“So..?” He didn’t ask the question in full but you knew what he wanted, you laughed a little and nodded this time. “Yes, I  finally joined the pride.”

He liked the way you laughed, liked it so much that as he was signing your notebook he flicked a corner up to one of the back pages to leave a little note for you to find later. Then you two continued your usual conversation, getting to know each other in the time slot given and you were off again to get the others’ signatures and have your brief chats. You’d gotten home that night and were showing your friends your notebook on a video call when you noticed a corner of it had been folded back, as the others were gushing you flicked to the back of your notebook and saw in Romance’s pretty handwriting.

I think I love you, call me? xxx - xxx - xxx

Baby

Slips it into conversation casually

You’d ended up apart of the group at some point, it’s fuzzy that he can’t pinpoint when and why but you’d accidentally come across their demon identities and instead of snitching - you just shrugged and offered to teach them how to people better. Jinu was hesitant at first and then he witnessed a moment of Mystery chewing on the corner of the phone that he’d received and immediately folded at your offer. Easy to say that Mystery no longer chews on technology, when you’re present at least.

He’s intrigued by you, confused that you’re not annoyed at him when he seemingly isn’t paying full attention to you but then you explain that you know he’s listening: how his ears perk up a little and he’s less focused on whatever else he’s fidgeting with and how you notice the way he instinctively leans in a little when you start talking. He scoffed and tried to play it off, telling himself he hated that you caught him out but he can’t deny that fluttery feeling he had as you looked at him with that cute little knowing smile of yours.

There was a day you’d left earlier than normal, seemingly having dinner plans with your other human friends and Jinu let you off and the other guys all waved goodbye too. As soon as he was sure you were gone he had gone to invade the elder male’s room, thinking maybe he should ask him about the fluttery feeling because he’d rather Jinu know than Romance. One of them can keep secrets and one of them is a gossipy wench.

“Hey I, when I’m with [Name] my stomach feels like there’s like...” His brain was struggling to form words as he attempted to describe the sensation he had when he was with you, Jinu was patient as he let Baby try to process his thoughts into words and sat up a little straight to hear the younger man a bit better. “Like there's bugs in it.” Yeah.. that’s the phrase, bugs in the stomach. “What is that feeling?”

“You’re in love!” Before Jinu could even open his mouth to answer Baby’s question, Romance had exclaimed loudly behind him - hands clasps together as he cooed at the youngest member and started to make a whole song and dance over it. Baby didn’t even have a chance to lunge at him as Romance ran off to tell the ‘great news’ to Abby and Mystery. This was the most energy he’s shown in day to day life as he whipped around to chase after but then Jinu spoke and it made him freeze in his tracks.

“Well.. he’s technically not wrong.” Was the calm comment, he looked amused at Baby’s disgruntled expression before he continued on. “Love is pretty strong word but, you might have feelings for [Name].”

Both of his elder demons’ words echoed in his mind for the next few weeks. Lingering as he stared at you a little longer than usual and then when you asked if he was okay he just nodded dumbly, not really thinking it over too much. You didn’t pry further as you were busy trying to teach Mystery that  ‘yes you can say this, no you cannot growl or snap your teeth at them’ when he had asked you what was appropriate interactions with fans.

It was on his mind now as you turned to ask if Baby had any questions now that the taller male was done, he didn’t have nearly as many as Mystery did but he had a couple and then as you were answering whatever bullshit question he came up with he just.. slipped his confession in between it.

“Love you.” You paused and then blinked, opening your mouth and then closing it again as you tried to process what he just said. “Wait wh-”

“I love you.” He said it again, the same casualness as the first time that threw you for a loop as he proceeded to ask another question right after it - not giving you any time to recover because he was starting to get a little nervous about it. You answered  his question with a little shyness in your voice now, the confidence you usually had shaken up a little  as you tried to process the information he let slip.

As you were bidding them goodbye for the day, you paused as you walked by Baby before leaning in for a second to tell him something. His eyes widened a fraction and he tried to play it cool in front of the other members, as you rushed outright afterwards. He would rather die than let Romance know what you had quietly confessed to him on your way out.

“I love you too, Baby.”

[dreamsteddie]

Eddie and Steve settle down in a town just outside the border of Indiana, so close that it's only a different state in name, and carve out a little place for themselves.

They live in a tiny house at the edge of town with other like-minded recluses. They're all friendly, but they mind their own business. It's an open secret what they share in their house as two men with no wives or girlfriends, but they're not the only ones in similar positions.

Eddie gets a position at the only mechanic shop in town, which is always understaffed. Steve works at the grocery as a clerk and shelver.

After a handful of years of being with Eddie, Steve fully lets go of any lingering hope of having children of his own. It hurts a little, but even if the system would deign to give a child to a gay couple, it certainly wouldn't be two men living in a tiny bungalow at the ends of the forest. He wouldn't trade what he has for the world; he loved Eddie more than anything, but it's something he has to come to terms with.

Then one day, when they're both closer to 40 than 30, a kid starts lingering around the storefront for hours. He's probably around 11 or 12 give or take, small and skinny in a way that makes Steve ache a little. He wanders in and out a little, looking around at the shelves of cool drinks and fruit with a cautious eye until something startles him and he scuttles out to the front.

He watches it happen for almost two weeks. It's driving him crazy how no one is saying or doing anything. They're all just pretending they don't notice. He raves about it almost every night to Eddie, who calms him and nudges him a little to talk to him.

The next night, the kid is still there when Steve gets out at nine, later than he's ever stayed before. He takes a moment to waffle about what to do, but he grabs two iced teas from the fridge and two of those pre-packaged danishes and heads out.

He sits on the curb without saying anything, a safe distance between them, and drops half of his loot by the kid's leg. He doesn't look at him, just opens his own drink and looks out into the waning summer sun. He can feel scrutinizing eyes glaring at the side of his head, not touching the food.

They sit for a good five minutes before the kid snatched the drink and food up, turning his back halfway to scarf it down quickly. He scurries away quickly after he finishes, Steve watching him go.

Steve continues this routine, the kid, Jake, getting more comfortable as Steve continues to be kind. He opens up a little bit more about school and interests, but he never talks about home.

One day, Jake doesn't show up, and Steve freaks out. He goes home and gets Eddie so they can both drive all around town. Steve has a terrible feeling in his gut that sinks completely when they don't find him before the sun comes up.

Eddie holds him as he urges him to get some sleep before his shift.

The next day, all Steve can do is look out the big windows, waiting for ratty off-brand Converse and a red hoodie to walk through the doors. It takes almost his entire shift, but he does eventually see Jake slink around the corner of the store across the street, walking slowly toward the store.

Steve tears off his apron and makes some excuse to the other clerk, and runs out into the street to meet him. He knows he shouldn't, but he's just too relieved to stop himself, and scoops him into a hug.

Jake flinches but clings back desperately, clinging to Steve and sobbing into his shoulder. Steve doesn't give a shit if it's right or wrong or whatever, he knows Jake has been hurt and he's taking him home.

They get to the house, Jake having calmed down a little bit but still holding right to Steve's hand. He goes around and scoops Jake into his arms and takes him inside. Eddie is waiting on the porch, backlit by the soft glow of their living room.

Jake is hesitant at first, especially with the new man in the picture, but he knows Eddie from stories, and they get him to open up about what happened. The entire time, Steve is crushing Eddie's hand in his own, overwhelmed with rage.

They let Jake pass out on the couch, belly full of grilled cheese and tucked under their plushest blanket. The two men don't sleep that night, staying up until the sun rises again, discussing what to do.

In the end, Steve and Eddie leave in the early morning, going to the house Jake described in his story. They're greeted by a gruff-looking man reeking of booze, already spitting angry insults for the early wake-up call.

What they do is less than legal, but in a town this small, things tend to work by their own rules. They make it clear that Jake won't be coming back, and that they'll be keeping him under their roof. The man gives only a token protest before he lets Eddie bully his way into the house to find what exists of Jake's documents.

They go home and present their offer to Jake. They have room for him, if he wants to stay. He's old enough that he can make his own choice, and they won't force him, but they would love to give him a home.

Jake is a difficult, troubled kid, but he brings to much joy and purpose into their lives that they didn't even know they were missing. Their sparse neighbors keep them under their protection, making sure the budding little family has what they need to keep themselves afloat.

[aetherograph]

Don't forget plenty of places for adults and children to PLAY worked into the landscape, not walled off but meshed with regular life. Swings on a bus stop are a great example. Public art that's meant to be interacted with, like those fountains that come straight out of the ground and are just dancing around and people can run around and get wet are an example of what I mean. But sculptures you can climb on, swing on, sit in. Spaces designed for different ages and their play tendencies (small children are exploring, teens need safe ways to show off, etc). Art and Play are the same thing and they are the Point of even doing any of this "build a society" stuff AT ALL.

We need to design greenspaces to be safe for short folk--not everyone is six feet tall. We need to make sure you can see people that are shorter than 5 feet. No big tall hedges on corners that sort of thing.

We need to repeal loitering laws bc THOSE are hostile architecture too. Let people hang out in public. Let them sleep in public. Let people park their car and sleep. Let them sit around on the stoop of an afternoon. Let kids play on the sidewalk. Cities have children in them too, and if you look at footage of cities from before loitering laws and helicopter CPS requirements, there's kids EVERYWHERE. Just runnin around! Going to the store on their own and going places with friends and riding bikes and just exploring like kids are supposed to do.

But most of all? We need to stop fearing strangers and start seeing them as neighbours, cousins, and friends we haven't met yet! We need to revive the natural human ways of interacting in physical space, of kids runnin around and being kept an eye on by the Aunties and Uncles sitting on their front porch/stoop. Not babysat, not watched, but just... there's kids around. Glance at them every so often to make sure they aren't dying. Hell, glance around and just be aware of the environment and the people and make sure everything's ok. We're a herd animal. We do herd animal things!

Building a big complicated herd we call Society is such a huge achievement; but right now it sure doesn't feel that way because our Society is broken, mostly because of John Calvin and Ronald Reagan. We have to fix what they broke. But it isn't that Society doesn't work. It isn't that Cities don't work--humans have lived in big dense cities for thousands of years! We LIKE them!--it's that the fucked up form of feudal fascist capitalism we have doesn't work! To quote an old hippie adage: It is bad for children and other living things!

I think being autistic has made me realize how extremely hostile the environments we have designed are. And I don't mean "this environment is uniquely hostile to me because I am autistic" I mean that even normies are just existing in brutal, stagnant spaces, they have just internalized them as normal. We could have it all, we could live in such a beautiful and fascinating world, designed by humans and for humans who actually enjoy life and it's complexity and wonder. but even now it's like, seen as kinda hippy-dippy bullshit to have "excessive" indoor plants in a workspace or something

[prettygirl-gabi]

Ours to Build

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Y/N Parker

Fandom: Women’s College Basketball

Summary:Was choosing love over legacy really worth it?

(Spoiler: it absolutely was.)

🏷️: @paigeshirleytemple , @cowboybueckers , @unknowgirlypop , @yailtsv , @nicebellee , @sitawita , @thatonesuschix , @vamptizm , @elalfywhore , @starfulani , @authentic-girl03 , @paxaz535 , @azziswrld , @jadasogay , @paigeluvvr , @melpthatsme , @lessi-lover , @courtsidewithlani , @elswhore , @italyyy , @lightsgore , @private-but-not-a-secret , @aubreygriffin , @issilovesherself , @graceeeeeesblog , @sayurireidotcom , @let-zizi-yap , @latenighttalkinqwp , @fairyblossomsav , @liloandstitchstan , @kaliblazin , @marleymarleymarleymarley

People say when you’re the daughter of greatness, you either break under the weight or become something heavier than it. I wasn’t interested in either.

I just wanted to play.

And maybe—just maybe—fall in love with someone who believed in me before the trophies, the banners, or the signature shoe deals ever came into the picture.

That someone was Paige Bueckers.

And it started long before either of us put on a college jersey.

We met for the first time at the 2017 FIBA Americas U16 Championship. Paige was already “Paige”—the icy-cool guard from Minnesota with a silky shot and a step-back that made coaches foam at the mouth.

I was the tall wing everyone whispered about. “That’s Candace Parker’s daughter,” they’d murmur. Like my last name was heavier than my whole frame.

I remember her walking over during the first team lunch, plopping down across from me with a crooked smile and a mountain of chicken nuggets.

“You eat like a toddler,” I said.

She grinned. “And you look like you’re gonna judge me about it.”

I was judging her. And falling in love at the same time.

From there, it was Youth Olympics in 2018, then FIBA U17, then U19 in Thailand—every time, we found each other on the court and off. She’d pass me no-look dimes.

I’d set her rock-solid screens. She’d text me songs in the middle of the night. I’d text her back lyrics like they were poetry.

By the time we both turned 18, we were unofficially official—just…quiet about it.

Because there was always this: “Y/N’s going to Tennessee.”

Because there was always this: “Paige is going to UConn.”

Because there was always doubt.

“You guys won’t last past college. Not if you’re at different schools.”

“You’re not seriously thinking about UConn, right?”

“Candace Parker’s daughter at UConn? That’s blasphemy.”

Everyone had something to say.

Everyone but Paige.

We were laying on the trampoline in her back yard the summer before senior year, tangled in a throw blanket. Our way of keeping the bugs from biting us. Her fingers were laced with mine.

“Come to UConn,” she said for the fiftieth time, voice soft against my shoulder. “Just…think about it.”

“I’ve always been a Vol,” I murmured.

“You’ve always been Candace’s Vol. Not yours.” She pulled back, met my eyes. “What if UConn is yours?”

And maybe it was that—how gently she said it. Or maybe it was the way she made me feel like I had a choice ,

I visited USC. They rolled out the red carpet. Flashy lights, media dreams.

I visited Tennessee. Pat Summitt’s name on everything. My mom beamed like a kid in a candy store. But I felt small there—like a shadow.

I visited UConn last. Geno kept it real. Paige was right there next to me even though she’d already done her tour. I walked into the gym and my chest got tight.

Not with fear—with clarity.

Decision Day — ESPN Broadcast

My palms were sweating. My mom sat beside me, cool as ice in her orange blouse. Paige was watching from home, texting me “👀👀👀👀” nonstop.

I opened the UConn hat and placed it on my head.

And then I leaned toward the mic.

“My mom is one of the greatest women’s basketball players of all time,” I began. “I already have high expectations set for me, and I know that if I became a Lady Vol it would be harder than it would be anywhere else.

But Tennessee was my mom’s legacy.

UConn will be mine.”

Five years.

Five years of torn ligaments, ice packs, crutches, surgeries, tears, rehab, tears again, and love holding all of it together.

My injury list was just as ugly as Paige’s:

• ACL tear my sophomore year

• MCL sprain during junior season

• Broken wrist during conference tournament in Year 4

• Broken foot in preseason of my fifth and final year

And Paige? She’d suffered through it all with me—and on her own:

• Ankle surgery.

• Tibial plateau fracture.

• Torn ACL.

• Another knee scare just this past January.

We had every reason to stop. To walk away. But neither of us wanted our story to end like that. Not bruised and limping off some bench in a sweatsuit. Not with our heads down.

We wanted a banner.

We wanted our moment.

April 6th, 2025

Amalie Arena, Tampa Bay

UConn vs. South Carolina

Final Score: UConn 82 - South Carolina 59

Confetti fell like spring snow.

I was on my knees at half-court, sobbing into my palms while the crowd roared.

We did it.

We really did it.

I felt arms wrap around me from behind. Paige, her jersey soaked with sweat and her face shining with tears, pressed her forehead into the back of my neck.

“We did it, baby,” she whispered. “They said we wouldn’t last. That we couldn’t win. But look.”

I turned into her arms, held her like I’d never let go. “This is ours.”

And then—before I could think twice—I kissed her.

Right there.

Right in the middle of the arena.

In front of millions.

In front of my mom.

Geno.

The haters.

Everyone.

The crowd exploded.

They handed us scissors. We climbed ladders to cut our pieces of the net.

When I snipped mine and turned, Paige was already on the ground, grinning up at me.

“Jump,” she called.

I launched myself off the last rung and into her arms. She caught me like she always had.

And kissed me again like she always would.

Once in the post game press conference.

Paige had the net around her neck and I had my hat and hers on top of mine.

Attempting to be serious.

Reporter: “Y/N, what would you say to the people who told you choosing UConn was a mistake?”

I smirked. Paige’s hand found mine under the table.

“I’d say…thank you. You helped me write my own story.”

Reporter: “And Paige, what would you say to the people who said the injuries would end you?”

She leaned into the mic. “They didn’t end me. They made me fight harder—for this team. For her.”

Back in the hotel, the net string tied around my wrist like a bracelet, I lay beside Paige under cheap linen sheets and championship dreams.

“You know what I’ve been thinking about?” she murmured, tracing circles on my stomach.

“What?”

“Your mom said once, ‘Don’t be the next me. Be the first you.’”

I turned to face her, eyes stinging. “Guess I finally did.”

She smiled. “Yeah, you did.”

I kissed her again, soft and slow.

This was the legacy we built.

Not hers.

Not my mom’s.

Ours.

Forever.

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

                 -Thank You For Reading!💚💙

                             -prettygirl-gabi✨️💗

[last-words-ofashootingstar]

The Heart of a True Believer: Chapter One

➾In Which: Neverland is dying and you, my dear, are the only way it can survive.

RATED X. MATURE AUDIENCES ONLY.

❥Kim Hongjoong x fem reader

Star's Fairytale July

♡'･ᴗ･'♡genre: yandere, 40's fantasy au, dub-con, angst

ಠ_ಠwarning/content: peter pan hongjoong !!!! a spin on "( Return to ) Neverland", loosely inspired by "Once Upon A Time", heavy fantasy elements: pixie dust can make people fly, magical island - things don't age + weather in tune with hj's emotions, shadows act separately from bodies, hj has unspecified magic powers, fantasy drug use + tripping balls HARD. reader is wendy's daughter, talk of arranged marriage + period accurate stereotypes of women (briefly), kidnapping but it's chill (reader is okay with it when she realizes what's happened), featuring lost boys!ateez, something is off...

➯a/n: AAAAAAAAH- calm down omg 😮‍💨 kkkkk are we even a little bit surprised that this turned into a multi-parter ? hongjoong is my bias, Return to Neverland is my all time favorite movie- i can't help myself okay !!? no smut this chapter but when it happens it's gonna be freak nasty anywayyyy enjoy <33

˚⊱like a fairytale⊰˚@m00njinnie @tinyteezer @boxofhyunebuns @ninjakitty15 @binniesbabe @cocostar1117 @raicecakes-and-buldak @scheepsmans @cherrytaesan @motheraiya55 @cotton-candyclouds @tunafishyfishylike ₊‧⁺stardust˖⋆ @sousydive @sunnysidesins @onyxmango @devilzliaison @ateezswonderland @queenofdumbfuckery @emilysecresy @kyomiingi @pansexual-and-eating-pancakes @klllerwaifu @seonghwasslytherin @yoonglesbae

♡masterlist + navigation !♡

18+, MINORS WILL WALK THE PLANK.

Your mother always told you stories.

Of a place called Neverland.

A beautiful island with blue seas and bright skies and green grass. A place where there was only one rule — never grow up.

Even as you did, unfortunately, have to grow older; you clung to those stories. You think of them, to this very day.

Your mother told them like she was there. She was either an incredibly talented story teller — or she was there when Captain Hook was almost swallowed by a crocodile.

And she wasn't very good at telling other stories. They only felt real when she spoke of Neverland.

Maybe it's just a way to hold onto your childhood, but you do find yourself truly believing in all of the fantastical tales she told you about Neverland. Before you realize that's ridiculous.

Kim Hongjoong isn't real and people don't fly.

But... it's always fun to imagine, you suppose.

What it would be like to meet the same Lost Boys you've heard a hundred stories about. How it would feel to be sprinkled in Fairy Dust. How it might feel to fly.

You scoff to yourself as you find your mind wandering towards Neverland again, so much so that you've been standing still as you're meant to be packing.

It must be so beautiful. Your mother spoke so fondly of it.

It would be so different to what you know. Dull colors and a life of never ending work to stay afloat. A life of being told what to do, who to do it with.

"You're daydreaming again," your younger brother says from the doorway.

"And what of it?" You sigh, quickly folding up the shirt in your hands.

"You need to stop," he shrugs, like it's obvious, "what if you zoned out while watching your children?"

"Who says I am having children?"

"Your new husband, I would think."

A stalemate. You turn on your heel quickly and glare at him.

You used to be so close. You used to play and share stories and you have saved each other from trouble more times than you could count.

But he grew up. You are still a girl at heart, and he is a man. And men in this society — you do not care for them. Even if it happens to be a man made from a boy you once close with.

"I have said a million times, Danny-"

"Yeah, yeah," he rolls his eyes, dismissing you, "you don't want kids. You need to grow up, (Y/n)."

You storm towards him, poking his chest and searching for the words to express how you feel in a way he might understand. But, you think you finally realize, he never will understand.

"Ugh!" You groan, shoving him out of the way and slamming your door.

You can't help it. You yourself are a child at heart, and everyone expects you to be a mother? They want you to grow up?

You never want to grow up.

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

You had went to sleep after hours of fantasizing, wishing. In your bed, you roll over — only for your cheek to meet something that feels like sand. Water laps at your feet, soaking your socks and the bottom of your long nightgown.

You open your eyes quickly, coming face to face with the granulated Earth, sunlight blinding you before you bring your hand over your eyes. "What the fuck..." You whisper to yourself as you roll onto your knees.

A branch snaps in the tree line not too far away; but you're too frazzled to notice it as you place both your hand in the sand and pick up two handfuls; letting it slip between your fingers as you stare at it in disbelief.

"What the fuck?!" You yell this time as you scramble to your feet, stumbling. You look around frantically.

For what, you aren't sure. But you find a short beach on one side of you before it quickly turns into dense forest, and an endless dark ocean on your other. The sky bright blue and cloudless.

You fall right back down in shock, eyes wide as you look into the ocean. The ocean that you live nowhere near.

"Did-" The voice that comes from behind you makes you scream, turning around quickly and scooting away from the source; backing into the water.

"Oh, god! I'm sorry!" The young man backs up as well, putting a good amount of space between you.

He's tall, light blue hair, brown eyes — your eyes flick back to his hair. Blue? Who in the world has blue hair? You continue to scan him quickly; your heart stopping when you see the sheathed dagger on his loose leather belt.

"Hey," he says softly, raising his hands slowly as he sees your panicked state, "I'm not going to hurt you..."

"Where are we?" You demand to know with a wavering voice, shivering as the cold ocean water seeps into your skin; the entire bottom half of your sleep dress soaked.

"We are on-" He tilts his head. Recognition in his eyes as he inspects you just as you did to him. His arms fall to his sides. "Wendy?"

You back further into the water as he steps closer, soft shock written on his face. You sink in the sand slightly, pushing yourself up as you glare at him. "Who are you?" How do you know my mother? Is another question you want to ask. And how are you mistaking me for her?

The stranger turns to tree line, yelling, "It's Wendy! Wendy is back!"

Your jaw drops as three other young men appear from various spots among the trees swiftly — almost like... they're excited.

Who are these people? How do they know your mom? Where the fuck are you?

Those, and a million more questions run through your mind as you try to take in the frenzy of activity.

"Wendy?!" One of them drops from a branch, hanging upside down on his legs. "No way!" The fake rabbit ears attached to his hat flop as he swings; falling upright onto his feet.

"How? You left forever ago!" Another runs up quickly: curly hair bouncing with his movements, the quiver of arrows on his back doing the same.

The last one is silent as he follows them — but there's a flick of joy in his eyes. Blond hair all messy.

But you don't have time to think about any of that before the men are bombarding you with questions.

How did you get back here? How's John? How's Micheal? What's going on in the world? Did you get their messages from the shadows? How old are you now? Do you forgive-

"Stop it!" You scream as tears start slipping past your waterline. Completely and utterly overwhelmed, scared.

"Jeez, Wendy!" The one with the rabbit ears says, "we're just excited to see you! It's been so long... You grew up a bit." He looks a bit sad at the fact that 'you' are no longer how he remembers. "We've missed you so much- oh, we need to tell the others! Hon-"

"That's not Wendy..." The blond pouts, inspecting you closer. Kneeling in the water with you, he picks up your arm even as you flinch. "Her scar isn't there."

Her scar. You remember it quite clearly. She said she had got it when she was trying to learn how to sword fight with San in Neverla—

You look between them again.

'And Yunho had the most colorful hair! Blue as the sky, it was so beautiful.' The blue haired man looks down at you with his eyebrows pinching together.

'-that's when Seonghwa came swinging from the trees! His bunny ears moved with him like they were apart of him-' He tilts his head, and the bunny ears go with him.

'Yeosangie... ah, he was such a talented archer. He had such adorable curls in his hair.' The curly haired man looks down at you, as confused as the rest of them.

'My favorite Lost Boy? Oh, you know I could never choose~ ... I have to? Well, I suppose it would have been San. He gave me this scar here, you see? And then he felt so bad he gave himself one to match.'

"No. No way," you grab the blond man's wrist quickly and shove his sleeve up. Sure enough — there is a scar that matches the one your mother had.

You stand up quickly, all of the men backing up. You turn in a circle, taking in the island again. "Is... Are we on Neverland?"

They all hesitate; looking between one another. "If you aren't Wendy," the man you think must be Jeong Yunho asks slowly, "who are you?"

"I'm her daughter!" You laugh, disbelief in your eyes as you look all over the place, rambling. "Oh, goodness! My mom told me all kinds of stories about this place, about- about you guys! I knew it was real, I knew it had to be- everyone said she was crazy but I believed her! Her brothers too, I knew they remembered something, they looked too fond when she spoke of you all-"

The men watch you, dumbstruck. "Daughter?" San and Yeosang ask together.

"Yeah!" You turn back to them with a smile, but it quickly falls when you see their mistrust.

"How could Wendy have a daughter as old as you are?" Seonghwa pouts down at the sand, "has she really been gone that long?"

"She really grew up." San realizes, sadly, as he looks at you closely again. "You look just like her, too- how I thought she would, anyway..."

"I don't believe you," Yunho shakes his head, "no. Wendy would never be so grown up to have a kid! She can't possibly have been away that long!"

"She left Neverland more than forty years ago," you say, like it's obvious. It is to you. "She had two kids, actually."

But time moves differently on Neverland. To them, it only feels like a handful of years since they've seen your mother. "Forty-" Yeosang stutters, backing up to sit on the dry sand as shock washes over him.

Yunho quickly follows, practically falling beside him. San stays kneeled in the water beside you, and Seonghwa stands completely still.

"H-" The words die on the bunny hatted man's tongue, and he stares at you in puzzlement. "Are you really? Wendy's daughter?"

"Mhm."

"No way." He turns around, waving his hand, "absolute-"

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

"-ly no way!" Mingi yells in bewilderment, grabbing you by your jaw the second you enter their camp; practically pressing his nose to your face as he looks at you. "You're telling me that's not Wendy?!" He backs up, crossing his arms over his chest.

The rest of the Lost Boys are here, too. Gathered around a fire lit curtesy of Seonghwa to help you and San dry off.

Yeosang ran ahead of you all and explained to them with a simple 'don't freak out'.

They are indeed freaking out.

Jongho has his hands over his face, peeking between his fingers. Wooyoung is quiet, chewing on his thumbnail. Seonghwa, San, and Yunho are still in shock from walking with you, having been staring at you the whole time. Yeosang seems to be handling it best. Mingi, the worst.

"This is a trick!" Mingi falls to sit next to Jongho on a log, sighing dramatically, "a trick from Hook!"

"Hook can't use magic..." Wooyoung reasons, "how could he do such a trick?"

"It's not a trick," San shakes his head. "She is really Wendy's daughter, she told us all about her. Things Hook would never know."

"How is Wendy?" Seonghwa asks with something soft in his eyes as he looks up at you from his seat across the fire.

"Oh..." You hesitate. Based on their excitement when they thought you were her, they really cared about your mother. She went naturally, but that would still be heard to hear — that the twelve year old girl you once cared for grew up, had an entire life, and passed away all in what felt like a few years to you.

His face drops for a second, as if he can tell just by your pause. Before he can really ask, though —

"Hongjoong will be so happy," Yeosang smiles a bit, "he can finally st-"

Wooyoung tackles him, shoving his hand over his mouth. "Ah! No!"

You tilt your head as you look towards them, "what's that about?" You ask Seonghwa, turning back to him and jumping as you see a shadowy figure lowering itself behind him.

He doesn't flinch, though, he's used to the shadow. He looks up to it, meeting its stark white eyes. "Did you do this?" He points to you.

It nods.

"Was it Hongjoongs bidding?"

Hongjoong; you had almost forgotten about the leader of the Lost Boys. You wonder where he might be.

It shakes its head. You yelp as it quickly fades through him and towards you, pointing at your heart.

Everyone is quiet now.

"Return." Seonghwa snaps his fingers, and the shadow flies up into the trees. He looks down at his feet.

"Wh-" You breathe as you watch it disappear, "what was that?"

"That was Hongjoong's shadow," Yunho hums while he passes you a wooden cup, something warm and steaming inside of it, "didn't she tell you about that?" He can see why not.

"No, she didn't."

"All of our shadows act like that... Going outside of our bodies, I mean," Yeosang offers with a shrug, having pushed Wooyoung off of him.

An unintelligible yell comes from somewhere in the distance. You all turn towards it. "I suppose his shadow has informed him-" Jongho's whispering is cut off when a rush of wind cuts into the clearing; carrying along with it Kim Hongjoong.

He floats much like his shadow did, for a moment, as he stares at you with wide eyes. He falls, stumbling on his feet. The sunlight is replaced with clouds quickly. Thunder rumbles overhead. A bolt of lightning strikes within the camp; frightening you into Sans side.

"Hongjoong," Seonghwa stands up quickly, placing a hand on the shorter man's shoulder, "it is not her. Wendy has a daug-"

Hongjoong doesn't hear a thing he says, pointing at you with misplaced anger as he yells, "I told you never to return! Why have you come here?"

You turn into Sans chest as he wraps an arm around your shoulder. Frightened of the man who you know has the powers to hurt you without ever laying a hand on you.

He and your mother must have had a falling out when she left Neverland as a child.

"Hongjoong!" Seonghwa yells, "that is not Wendy!" His head snaps to him, fury clear on his face. "That is Wendy's daughter! Your shadow brought her..." He whispers more to the man, but you don't hear it; especially because San places a hand over your head comfortingly.

"Oh, wow," his shoulders slump. Relieved. More than relieved. Then he realizes what he's done, "oh! I'm so sorry, I-" He sighs, looking to Seonghwa for help.

"Your mother didn't leave Neverland on the best of terms," he says slowly, "did she tell you?"

She never did. She always changed the subject. You shake your head.

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

"I am sorry again," Hongjoong says as he enters the quiet room.

In one of the small tents, Seonghwa's you think; given the different rabbit hats strewn about, you take shelter from the drizzling rain.

Hongjoong asked for a moment alone. You hesitated, but given that everyone was a literal shout away in the crowded camp; you gave in.

"You frightened me," you say back, picking at your socks as you sit in the corner, never meeting his eyes. Your mother spoke so softly of him, painted a picture of a man almost entirely different to what you witnessed. He looked ready to sic his shadow on you or strike you down with some painful magic.

He slowly lowers himself to sit in front of you. "You look exactly like her..." He pouts as he takes a good look at you, "she really broke my heart. Not- not like that, but," he shrugs, "still."

"How?"

"She left." He utters, "she grew up. She broke our one rule. And she took John and Micheal with her."

It's more than that. You can tell. "Why, uhm, why did she leave, actually? She only ever told good stories of you, she loved it here."

He leans his hand in his palm as he stares at you. Calculating, and it turns softer when you finally look at him. "I think... she just wanted to grow up. Neverland isn't for everyone. But," he leans forward a bit, "my shadow tells me you don't want to grow up."

Confusion flickers in your eyes. His shadow told him that? How does it even know?

"Is that true?" He asks, looking hopeful. His dark eyes shine in the lanterns glow, his red hair casting a shadow over his face. A bit of thunder rumbles outside. "You don't want to grow up anymore?"

You think for a moment. The thunder crashes. The rain comes down harder as he searches your face for any clues to what you're thinking.

You don't want to. You would dread returning home. To an arranged marriage and a life of being forced to be someone you aren't.

"No, I don't."

He smiles, wide. "Yeah!" He cheers, standing up quickly and clapping as he spins, "that's what I like to hear! Come on!" He grabs you up by your hand as you stumble, leading you back out to the clearing.

"Woah! Wh-" You stutter as you look up to the clear sky through the gaps in the dripping leaves. Hadn't it just been storming?

"Lost Boys! Fall in!"

The others emerge quickly from the other tents, wide eyes and buzzing with hardly contained curiosity as to what you've talked about.

Hongjoong stands behind you, grabbing your shoulders, "will you tell me again, is it true you never want to grow older?"

A bit unnerved, you nod, looking over your shoulder at him.

"Never ever? Once you become a Lost B- a Lost Girl," he corrects himself with a grin, "you cannot leave Neverland. Your mother was never officially a Lost Girl, and your uncles never Lost Boys. You will not be able to leave like they did. You will remain on Neverland."

The Lost Boys watch closely from their line-up. San shifts on his feet as if he's nervous.

"I don't want to leave," you say before you can think anymore about it. "I don't want to be a grown up anymore."

His grin broadens. "Perfect," he giggles, grabbing either side of your head before kissing the top of it. "The very first Lost Girl."

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

"-saying is it not better to wait because of that?" San's voice catches your attention as Yeosang and Jongho show you the encyclopedia of all the different kinds of plants native to the island; keeping you busy in awe as the others hurry around you to prepare — well... exactly what they're preparing, you're unsure of.

You look over to his voice, watching him chase after Hongjoong; who dismisses him quickly. "No."

"Hongjoong-"

"We waited last time and look what happened! No, s-" His voice gets further away, and Jongho masks what he says entirely as he starts bickering with Yeosang about how he spelled something in the book wrong.

You look back to it as Yeosang argues back that it doesn't have a correct spelling — that they made up the name to begin with.

It's starting to feel more comfortable on Neverland now the initial chaos has passed.

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

The sun sets slowly and makes way for nighttime on Neverland, darkness falling over the camp and shadows dancing within the flickering light of the fire.

You sit on the Earth in front of the flames, watching as Hongjoong goes around and hands a berry to each of the Lost Boys; who sit on the logs around the fire. He has two more left as he takes a seat next to you.

"It will make me see things?" You ask as he sets one of the berries in your palm.

It's got a soft luminescence to it, glowing gently onto your face. The silvery-blue color is unlike anything you've seen in nature before.

"If it does its job right," he smiles, looking around to the others, "we've all done it before, you have nothing to worry about. It's a right of passage to become a Lost Boy, and now for our first Lost Girl."

"And... it's safe?" You hum as you pinch the berry carefully between your fingers.

"Of course," Hongjoong shrugs, "totally harmless."

Wooyoung giggles a little bit, getting his shoulder shoved by San's with a quiet, "jackass."

"We'll all be doing it with you," Seonghwa leans and puts a hand on your shoulder comfortingly, "it's like... a family trip!"

"How does it feel?"

"You will probably get cold," Mingi speaks up quietly, the first time he's done so since Hongjoong returned. He's still in a little bit of shock, more than the rest. You remember your mother telling you that while the others always treated her like she was their age; Mingi always treated her like a little sister.

"And it will feel like you're floating!" Yeosang offers more enthusiastically.

"But sinking at the same time!" Jongho adds quickly.

"Floating, but sinking?" You ask with a small laugh, "how is that possible?"

Hongjoong lifts his hand to your lips, offering the berry he holds, "ready to find out?"

The Lost Boys watch intently as you open your mouth, letting the leader drop the glowing fruit onto your tongue; making you a Lost Girl. The first of your kind.

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

You felt as though you were sinking. Your muscles heavy, bones feeling dense.

But at the same time, you felt as if you were floating. Your stomach full with butterflies and your head light.

The berry had melted on your tongue nearly half an hour ago, the sweet flavor was so potent it almost made you gag. The others followed suit, just as they promised.

The effects hit Yunho first. He was just talking to Yeosang when he suddenly started giggling; going on to say that he looked like a tree elf with his fluffy hair. Yeosang followed, laughing with him as they both touched his hair in awe.

Jongho wasn't very fair behind, laying on his back next to you and a few others when he asked if you could all see the leaves breathing. Wooyoung, from his side, agreed.

You and San laid next to them, watching the leaves above you closely to see if you could tell what they meant. He hadn't left your side since you took the berry.

Mingi lays half asleep on a log, tracing patterns in the dirt and smiling as they appear to start moving on their own.

Hongjoong and Seonghwa sit a bit further away, their backs against mirroring trees. "Maybe she needs another," Hongjoong says as he bites his nail nervously, "it doesn't look like it's hit her yet."

"It will hit her. One berry is more than enough, we don't want her to get sick and throw it up." Seonghwa sighs as he looks away from you, kicking his foot against his lightly, "how do you feel?"

"Better already. I felt it when she arrived — my magic coming back, stronger."

"Perfect timing on your shadows behalf," he takes a steadying breath as he feels the psychedelic effects hitting him. The world looks a little bit blurry. "Seven times I've done this, and it never feels normal."

"For me either," Hongjoong tears his eyes away from you and looks to the slightly older man. "Do you think she will know? When she wakes up, will she feel it?"

Seonghwa shakes his head, shrugging, "it was different between all of us. Most of us couldn't tell, right? I didn't feel any different, even though I knew."

"I suppose," he leans his head back, his chest feeling a bit heavy as the berry soaks into his bloodstream. "Time will tell."

Not a lot of time, it seems. A few minutes later — it hits you.

You're the last one to feel it. And when you do, still laid on your back next to San; you look over to him.

"Can you hear that?" You ask, calling the others attention. Hongjoong stands up quickly, wobbling on his legs. Falling onto his knees next to your head, he puts a palm on your cheek and turns your head back to him.

Your irises are swallowed up in the darkness of your pupil. He smiles.

Yeah, one berry was definitely enough.

"Do you hear it?" You ask him directly, staring up at him with slightly wide eyes.

San leans up on his elbows, looking down at you. "What?"

"The air."

The rest of them still, listening closely. Wooyoung is the first to break, cackling, "oh! I do!"

Activity breaks out in the camp as you disperse slowly, all feeling the effects separately; but doing so together. It's kind of nice, you think.

San never leaves your side. Hongjoong has joined him in keeping you company.

You sit with your back against one of the logs near the fire, watching in awe with your jaw dropped as he places a few pebbles in your palm before making them float. San smiles at the sound of your laughter. It sounds like your Uncle John's. He remembers it clearly.

Seonghwa joins eventually, sitting behind you on the log as you retell a story your mother shared. Your favorite, you tell them. When they had stolen Captain Hooks precious treasure and hid it in dead man's cave, sitting outside and giggling as they listened to Hook and his crew fight the living skeletons to get it back. They remember it. A good day full of trickery.

Hongjoong leans against your shoulder with a small smile. "We can make all kinds of stories like that," he hums, "now that you are a Lost Girl, we have eternity to have fun."

A shiver suddenly runs through your body, urging you to pull your legs to your chest as you lean back into Seonghwa's legs for warmth. He doesn't provide a lot of it, he's just as cold. But he places a hand on your head comfortingly.

"Are you starting to get cold?" Hongjoong inquires with a big smile when you nod.

San opens his eyes and looks over to you, something sad about him as he scans your face. "I'm sorry, Wendy," he whispers, making you a bit confused. You think that in his high, he must be mistaking you for your mother again. But, he's looking over your shoulder as he says, "I will try."

You and the older Lost Boys look to where he speaks, seeing nothing — no one.

"Hm," he yawns, rolling his head back to face the sky and taking your cold hand in his, "bye-bye."

"Strange guy, he is," Hongjoong brushes his behavior off before you can get too concerned. "Why don't you get some shut eye, too?"

"Yeah, I think-" You breathe out, shuddering, "that's a good idea."

"Goodnight, Lost Girl." You hear him say as your eyes droop closed.

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

-> chapter two (coming soon)

[ssareiids]

HOW I MET YOUR DAD

pairing: late seasons! spencer x bau! reader

summary: in which you retell the love story of you and spencer to your child.

tw/cw: you two have a kid!! yay or nay chat, also you two are married because why not. it's unspecified whether or not your child is adopted, and their gender aswell as name is up to you. tried to keep it as androgynous as possible, gn! reader but interpret it as you please. your kid calls both you and spencer bwabwa 😭

shayli's ted talk: i wanna write for wilson but the thing is im only on s2 of house m.d and im scared to mischaracterize him.. yolo ig

The methodic and steady hum of the refrigerator keeps you rooted to this moment, a moment of silence and domestic bliss. A refuge from the chaotic upbringing of your lovely child and the toys that scatter and trail in their wake.

You've been dicing the same onion for a minute or two now, your mind scrambled and unusually bothered by the fact that there were no distractions.

It left you suspicious of what your kid was up to, no older than 7 and prone to accidents like she was a magnet for cuts and bruises. You drop the knife steadily on the board where chopped onions lay, careful not to be too loud and startle the little animal you were going to approach.

Your footsteps are steady, rythymic, and careful. Like you were in a warehouse where an unsub stood unseen, your days of the FBI are long behind you, admist your 6 month long sabbatical you had forgotten how to wield the same steadiness that used to come naturally to you.

It didn't bug you at all that you had lost that sense however, it made you... happy. That you wouldn't be exposing your bundle of joy to the dangers of the career that followed you to your door like a banshee that couldn't be excorcised.

You linger on each doorway to a different room, peeking inside momentarily each one as if clearing each place like it was an FBI raid. Keeping your eyes sharp and open for any sign of the cheeky troublemaker on the loose.

Each room that you claim empty makes your stomach gurgle with unease, a fear that gnaws deep inside your core until it ate it's way out, you knew it was highly unlikely. That your child had not been kidnapped, but you still feared it anyway.

You call out their name when you finish looking around the guest bedroom where they often hid underneath the bed to spook you, your eyebrows shot up instinctively when you hear not a response back, but the sound of shuffling. A familiar melody you hear whenever you fish through the drawers looking for an item lost in the sea of tangled chargers and socks that didn't have their pair.

Approaching the source of the sound, you peer into the cracks of the master bedroom door left slightly opened, and sigh in momentary relief when you see that your prankster has not been touched by an intruder.

"And.. what are you doing here?"

You ask gently, looking down at them with intrigue, not with the intent to scold or to punish. You had swore to yourself after all you would treat them with love and nothing else, regardless of the times they had used your lipstick as paint for the wall.

"Bwabwa! Look!" Piping up energetically, and you only snort at the nickname they had given you. You assumed that they took it from that show they always watch, what was it..? Right, Rabbids Invasion, where those bunnies only spoke in a language consistent of "bwabwa" and nothing more.

You tilt your head at their discovery, leaning down to sit down next to their figure on the floor before scooting in closer. Bringing them to your side as you wrap an arm around their neck the best you could manage for their smaller height.

Laid there in their hands was a scrapbook.

The cover was white, and the letters cut out from other newspapers' letters and such to form a few words.

" SPENCER AND [NAME] : THE BOOK! "

Each separate letter was either wonky, had a piece of it's lineart cut off, or was in a different font. You hardly made the words out if you didn't tell what it was from your memory alone.

You remember making this scrapbook with him, taking photos of practically everything on each memorable date, but with Spencer– every date was worth remembering.

He had insisted that you two wouldn't need this because his mind alone could replace the book just fine, you gave him a punch to his shoulder and then he obliged– very hesitantly.

After every date, or hangout, or maybe even after just staying together for a while. You'd paste or staple something tied to that moment and jot down a few key notes about the event, like it was a project of some sorts. Often scribbling an extremely cartoonish picture of you two that he'd furrow his eyebrows at and claim that this was "not him"

He had filled it in with some of his own memorabilia, usually it'd be something simple and he'd let you fill it in with the colour and vibrant things. Maybe a poker card or a monopoly piece from a game you had flipped the board for.

He had rarely written any fun facts about the date in his pages, but when he did– boy, did he write. Sonnets in your name and fine poetry that was written in languages you didn't know, or sometimes in your native tongue. Claiming that there wasn't an English word that would suffice for a writing that would be jotted down and kept in the record.

You smile, a heart filled with nostalgia and love that still sparked strongly between you two. You open the book carefully, like a treasured artifact that should be preserved, and nearly tear up at the first entry. Photos of you and an awkward Spencer who was only 26 at the time, on your very first date.

"Bwabwa, who's that?"

Your child murmurs, pointing to Spencer who had longer hair and not an inch of hair on his chin, you only laugh when you realize they don't recognize him.

"That, sweetheart, is your dad." You correct them gently, putting your pointer finger on his face in the polaroid, they look up to you in disbelief like you had just told them the sun would explode in 5 minutes.

"That's.. bwabwa?"

"Yes, sweetheart, that is papa."

They look down at the photo once more, eyes concentrated in deep thought as they compared the image to the mental image of their dad, cross referencing each feature until they finally saw the similarity.

"Tell me more! Tell me more!" They sit up straighter, eager for you to explain what this book meant and the history of each picture and item glued onto the pages. Their eyes glistening in a curiousity you found in their father aswell.

You couldn't resist.

"Well... I suppose I can push back dinner by a little bit." You reply back hesitantly, but faced against the puppy eyes of a 6 year old, you really didn't stand a chance. Completely forgetting the stove and instead reliving the memories that would forever be in these enchanted pages.

"It was the autumn of 2007."

OCT 12, 2007, QUANTICO.

In the absence of Elle Greenaway and her sudden departure, you had been chosen to step forward and fill in her shoes. Though at first you had initially felt iced out by the intimidating, and highly valued profilers in the room. You soon learnt to become a family member too.

Spencer and Hotch were the last members you had before you could finally complete your collection of "befriended BAU team members." Garcia being one of the first few to be bedazzled by the personality you slowly showed each passing week.

It was Spencer's birthday, and claimed mandatory by Garcia, you all had went out to O'Keefes. Even if the birthday boy himself didn't like to drink, that didn't mean you all wouldn't celebrate with alcohol in his name.

You however, found yourself in a similiar predicament with the boy wonder. You didn't particularly enjoy alcohol as much as the others, when you had turned 21 and took your first shot on your birthday. You scrunched your nose and didn't take another for the rest of the night.

He sat there in the corner, pushed up uncomfortably by a Derek who didn't know of the personal space he was invading and pathogens he was throwing at Spencer's clothed figure. You felt bad, guilty even for how he stood out in his birthday and not in the good kind.

He didn't sparkle grandly with a grin that said that he was happy and content in the moment, he looked like an outsider pretending to be someone who understood the inside joke. Except there was no inside joke, it was just conversation, but with the art of socializing so complex for him. The feeling of being left out came easy, natural, and expected. Even if he was meant to be the center of the attention.

Nobody did anything more than glance and murmur quietly when he stands up, excusing himself to leave the spot to try and find a more secluded area. Leaving everyone stumped, but not enough to cancel the celebrations that everyone resumed with minutes after.

Naturally, you began to try and forget that moment aswell, even if the guilt swelled inside your chest and screamed for you to do something. You couldn't just... he didn't even classify you as a friend. What would you even do when you approached him? That is if he still was somewhere near and hasn't already went home disappointed.

You politely exit the steady conversation with a rushed smile and an excuse nobody would've ever bought, but admist alcohol and a very hearty celebration. Nobody did more than wave you goodbye aswell, just like Spencer.

You swipe your purse away from the table and head towards the exit of the bar, looking for any sign, any of his features that stood out until you landed on a slumped figure on the bench just about 17 or 20 steps away from you. A figure you could definitely identify as Spencer.

You look behind you to make sure no one from the team had followed you, not wanting to turn this little moment to comfort him and maybe gain his favour to be seen by the team. Not because you felt ashamed, but because you knew that gossip spread like wildfire in your social circle, but that gossip wasn't always... accurate.

With wary steps you make your way over to him, when he finally spots you from his peripheral and looks up at you. You raise your hands slightly in surrender before sitting down next to him slowly. Keeping a modest amount of distance between your bodies before starting a conversation.

"Bad day?"

You probe gently, carefully, making sure you don't look like you're asking for too much. Especially since your friendship wasn't even steady just yet, your interactions were only polite or regular colleague etiquette. Nothing personal like this.

"Yeah."

He answers, you aren't surprised when he leaves it vague and up to your interpretation. He doesn't trust you enough– Hell, he might not even trust you at all.

So instead of asking "why?" or trying to subtly figure it out like he was a suspect to break down. You ask something dumb, unexpected, and not what you usually say when comforting a co-worker in a slump.

"... You wanna get ice cream?"

"Sorry?"

"Ice cream, do you wanna get some..?"

You felt stupid having to repeat yourself, wishing you could have gone back in time just a few seconds ago and shook your 18 seconds younger self to have not said that. Your voice falters near the end of your question when you repeat it, as if already bracing yourself for the rejection to come with the embarrassment.

"... Sure."

He nods in approval of the now-not-so-absurd idea. Smiling to yourself as you stand up with a new friend beside you, now in pursuit of the nearest ice cream shop for a certain sugary treat

You may have not known it, and Spencer sure as hell didn't at the time, but this moment of ice cream hunting and eating was more than just a cheeky moment between two future best friends. It was a milestone, the beginning of a love story of the two stars who had no idea they were even in it.

"And that, is how I properly met your dad." You finish the story with a small smile on your face, leaning towards your child before giving them a boop on their nose with your finger. Giggling with them in response.

"More more!" They clap in excitement, turning through all the pages in the scrapbook until they land on the last entry where the book ended– but certainly not the love that followed.

Your wedding.

MAY 28, 2019, OUTDOOR VENUE

It was your wedding day.

Like... really your wedding day, not the rehearsal from the night before, not the bridesmaid party, and not... a figment of your imagination. This is real, in just a minute or two you'd be walking down the aisle of the carpet ontop of the beautiful greenery.

You and Spencer had unanimously agreed to have your wedding outside and during spring. Where the flowers reached their peak in blooming, and the grass was at its greenest. A few large willow trees sitting in the background of where your wedding was, while a gentle breeze brushed you both while you recited your vows.

You fidget with your fingers while looking at yourself in the mirror, dressed to the nines and looking the absolute best, though in Spencer's words. He'd probably say something like "you always look your best" in that cheesy tone that made it more funny than flattering.

Were you getting cold feet?

No, you most definitely were not, you love Spencer and he loves you. That's all that mattered in this moment, you'd walk down that aisle with nothing but love and confidence. You'd leave this venue with his last name, or maybe yours and his last name combined.

All your doubts and second thoughts dissipate like smoke being waved away when you see Penelope coming in your dressing room, bearing the news that it was time. You straighten invisible creases in your attire once more before following behind her and already beginning to tear up.

You stand there, all the way at the start of the white carpet that would lead you to a new beginning in your life, another chapter written into your book. Your father laughs as he takes his place beside you, murmuring reassurances you didn't catch trying to stop your tears from flowing so soon.

Not long after, wedding music begins to fill the outdoor space, Spencer straightening up in anticipation and nervousness when he spots your figure down the aisle beside your dad.

You both take one good long look at each other before you both smile weakly. Not even halfway through your stride to where he stands with Rossi– who insisted on being the officiant, he starts wiping tears with the sleeve of his suit. By the time you reach him and finally stand there infront of him, you both are crying and laughing at the same time.

"Dearly beloved, we gather here today..."

Rossi's words blend into the background as the two of you stare at each other with a love that's never felt more passionate and beautiful than right now. Having to be snapped out of your reveries with a gentle cough from Rossi.

You both jump a little bit and stare at the man before he chuckles to himself and shakes his head. Repeating the vows once more

"Do you, Spencer reid, take [Name] [Last name] to be your wedded spouse? To have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until death do you part?"

"I do."

He quickly answers with little to no hesitation, causing you to nearly tear up again with how he agreed to love you for eternity without any doubts.

"Do you, [Name] [Last name], take Spencer Reid to be your wedded husband? To have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until death do you part?"

"I do."

You respond just as fast as Spencer did, smiling back at Spencer when his breath hitches from hearing the finality of those words. The guarantee that you two would be bound to each other not by restraints, but by love.

"Then, with the power bestowed upon me, I pronounce you husband and spouse."

Rossi announces, waiting just a few more seconds before finally speaking the sentence he knew Spencer had been waiting for patiently. Grinning to himself before he speaks up once more.

"You may now kiss the–"

Spencer doesn't waste a single minute before he pulls you towards him and his lips. Kissing you before Rossi could even finish as the audience seated infront of you all erupt into cheers, laughter, and applause.

You're about to continue on with how the rest of the venue went when you feel a smaller figure land on your side with a snore, looking down you can only coo at the sight of your usually energetic child having fallen asleep on you admist your storytelling.

You plant a tender kiss onto their forehead before letting them curl into you better for more comfort. Looking up your eyes land on the doorway, which is where your husband now stands with a smile that mirrored yours.

"Hey there, how long have you been standing there?" You tilt your head before ushering him to sit with the two of you on the floor. Placing a chaste kiss on his cheek when he settles right beside you

"Around the time when you were talking about how we weren't friends." He says 'weren't friends' while making a gesture of air quotation marks with his fingers, causing you to roll your eyes with a huff of disbelief.

"I'm right though, we weren't friends at the time."

"Mmmm... not so sure." He replies, exaggerating the 'm' to make himself sound more dramatic. It earns him a gentle punch to his shoulder that he naturally says "ow!" at, even though it didn't really hurt.

"I love you." You murmur quietly, resting your head on his shoulder shortly with a soft smile. Letting your eyes close as you sigh softly in content and satisfaction of where you've gotten in life.

"Yeah I know." He replies jokingly, trying to play off the love confession like his heart still didn't beat faster everytime he heard you say it. The joke doesn't pay off very well though, unless you consider a punch payment.

"Ow! You didn't have to punch me for that!"

He whisper yells, careful to not wake up your sleeping child still beside you two. You only smile to yourself at his reaction with a quiet giggle before letting the silence take over a bit, waiting for what you knew what he was going to say.

"I love you too." He says it back proudly just to show that this one wasn't an attempt at a joke like his previous comment. Letting his head fall ontop of yours which sat on his shoulder and closing his eyes too.

shayli's ted talk: please don't mind how the writing slowly gets more bad i wrote the other half of this on my break💔

written by @ssareiids

[whimsicalwritersstuff]

── The lake house pt.1

Pairings: dbf!Joel miller x bratty!Reader

Summary: You return to your family’s lake house for the summer, older and different than the last time Joel saw you.

Word count: 2.511

You arrived at the lake house just after lunch, the place looked exactly how you remembered it.

A few chairs scattered across the porch, the same old dock stretching into the still water. Nothing had changed. Not really.

But you had.

Your body felt different moving through the space, your legs longer in the cutoff shorts you'd outgrown and repurchased twice since you were last here. Your skin tanned, your movements slower, heavier, more sure.

You weren't the girl who used to cannonball into the lake without a second thought. You knew things now. Things about yourself. Things about the world. And most of all, things about men

Currently, you were barefoot in the kitchen, unpacking groceries and sitting warm white wine straight from the bottle, when you hard the sound of gravel crunching under the tires.

You didn't need to look. You knew it was him.

You padded to the screen door and leaned a shoulder against the frame, watching as the familiar old truck pulled into the drive. It was the same one he'd had forever, battered, a little rust underr the doors, the paint dull with age. It hissed when he cut off the engine and the door swung open.

Joel stepped out like he bad all the time in the world.

Worn heans hung low on his hips, frayed at the hem and faded where his wallet rose against the back pocket. A white t shirt clung to him in all the right places, thin with wear, slightly transparent at the shoulders where the sun had bleached the cotton.

His boots hit the ground, heavy and slow, and he squinted into the sun like he was already tired from the drive.

Then his eyes landed on you. Sometbingin his face shifted.

His expression didn't change exactly, but the tension around his mouth eased, his shoulders dropped slightly.

You watxhed as his gaze trail over you, bare feet, long legs, soft tank top that clung to your chest in the humid heat.

You didn't look away. Neither did he.

"Well, I'll be damned," he finally said, voice rough. "Look at you."

You didn't smile. Not right away. Just let the quite stretch between you as he came up the porch steps, each one groaning under his weight.

"Toy gonna say hi, or just stare?" You asked, lifting the bottle of wine to your lips with a raised brow.

That crooked smirk of his showered. "You used to run to me when I pulled up."

"You used to bring me bubblegum and tell me not to tell my dad," you shot back.

Joel chuckled, low and warm and then be was in front of you. Closer than he needed to be.

And then he hugged you.

Strong arms around your shoulders, palms flat against your back like he meant it. Like he hadn't held a woman in years and had forgotten what it felt like.

You were pressed against his chest, the heat of him leaking through his shirt, the scent of leather and salr clinging to his skin.

He held on too long.

When he finally pulled back, his hands stayed on your waist for a second. Maybe two, his thumbs grazed the hem of your shirt. His eyes didn't go your face. Not immediately. "Missed you kid." He murmured and then cleaned bus throat like he didn't mean to say it out load.

You titled your head, gave him a slow smile. "I'm not a kid anymore, Joel."

He looked at you then. Really looked.

And said nothing.

But you could see it in his eyes.

He knew.

And be didn't like how much he liked it.

The heat softened in the afternoon, but the sun still hung high enough to kiss your golden skin. You slipped into two piece swimsuit you knew fit just right, tight your hair up messily and walked barefoot across the warm wooden planks of the dock with a towel slung over your shoulder and a chilled cherry coke in your hand.

The lake was calm, just a few dragonflies skimming the surface, no boat traffic, no splashing kids. Quite in the way only this place could be.

You laie your towel down and stretched out onto your back, legs long and bare, one knee bent loosely as the sun soaked into your skin.

You let the can of soda rest against your thigh, it's condensation pooling into a cold ring. Time moved slower here. You could almost forget anyone else was around.

Until it wasn't.

You cracked one eye open behind your sunglasses and turned your head just slightly.

And there he was.

Joel stood halfway down the dock, arms cross over his broad chest, one hand rubbbing his jaw absently like he didn't even realize what he was dking it.

He was watching you. Not in the casual, glancing sort of way. He was still. Intent. His eyes moved over toy like he was trying to memorize something.

You didn't move.

You watched him watch you.

And then his gaze lifted, meeting yours, his moutj parted slightly when he realized you'd caught him. His jaw fleched and his arms dropped to his sides like he meant to leave but couldn't quite make his feet move yet.

"You lost, Joel?" You called, voice lazy, teasing.

He cleared his throat, eyes narrowing slightly like he wasn't sure if you were joking. "Didn't mean to interrupt." You sat uo slowly, letting your legs swing over the edge of the dock, feel ripping into the warm water. "Didn't say you did."

Joel scratched the back of his neck, that white t shirt still clinging to him in the humid air and he let his eyes drift away from your chest only for a beat too log. "Just came out to see how the dock feel as holdin' up."

"Looks pretty steady to me." You said, legs still dangling in the wate. "You sure thats what you were checking?"

"You always this mouthy now?" He asked, voice low.

You smiled sweetly. "Only when I'm being watched."

Joel let out a short, humorless chuckle. Then turned, walking back toward the house, boots thudding on the dock with every step.

You let him go.

But you felt his eyes long after he was gone.

And that slow, electric feeling between your legs, the one that hadn't quite gone away since he hugged you, was only getting stronger.

Soon the sun was starting to dip low when your dad called out from the back porch, hollering for Joel to come give him a hand with the grill.

You heard the screen door creak open and elam shut again, you stayed inside a moment longer, tying the ends of your button up shirt just above your waist and slipping into a pair of denim cutoffs.

The ones that barely passed as shorts anymore. The king that made you feel shameless, especially now. Especially after catching Joel's stare earlier like he hadn't seen a woman in five hundred years and just remembered how much he liked them.

You grabbed the bowl of corn from the counter, balancing it on your hip as you stepped outside.

Joel was crouched beside the grill, one knee in the dirt, fiddling with the propane line while your dad wrestled with a stubborn handle.

Joel's back was to you at first, broad and solid in that same worn shirt, now spotted with a faint smudge of ash across his shoulder, his arms flexed as he braced against the edge of the grill..

You walked past them, your sandals slapping gently against the wooden deck.

Joel looked up.

And his is jaw locked.

His eyes dragged up from the bare skin of your thighs to the soft knot of your shirt above your navel.

Then higher, pausing briefly at the swell of your chest before meeting your eyes, his face unreadable.

"Need this out here?" You asked innconcently, holding out the bowl toward your dad.

"Yeah, thanks, sweetheart." Your dad said without looking, too busy cursing the lid of the grill.

But Joel was still watching you.

He tried not to be obvious. He always did. But his fingers stilled against the metal, and his breathing shifted. You noticed.

You turned slightly as you passed him, letting your hip away a little more than necessary.

"Grill still giving you trouble?"

Joel straightened up slowly, towering over you now. His arms glistened faintly from the best, the smear of soot across the back of one hand.

He didn't answer right away, just stared down at you like you were some kind of problem be hadn't figured out how to solve yet.

"No," he said, voice like gravel. "It's not the grill that's the problem."

Your stomach fluttered, low and tight.

Before yo could reply, your dad called out, snapping Joel's attention away.

You walked off, hips swaying and benind you you heard him exahle, sharp and frustrated. Like he hated how much he was looking. And hated even more that he couldn't stop.

The fire pit was already crackling when you came out.

Someone had string up those cheap fair lights along the edge of the porch, probably your dad and their soft yellow glow spilled over the back of the deck, giving the old boards a little bit of magic.

Moths flitted around them, dumb and beautiful in their way and the faint sound of country music from an old Bluetooth speaker your dad insisted on using despite it's busted soind..

The evening had turned cooler, the heat of the day retrwatinginto the trees. You had brought the marshmallows and both your dad were halfway through the bottle of whiskey passed from hand to hand like it was sacred.

You spotted Joel the second you stepped onto the porch.. he was sitting on a weathrwd log near the edge of the circle, his back to the woods.

His legs were spread comfortablely, a tumbler of something amber in one hand, the other resting on his thigh

He didn't look up right away, but you felt him notice you.

You moved slowly, letting your steps crunch just enough to he heard. You bypassed the empty chair beside your dad and made your way over to Joel instead, sliding down onto the log next to him like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Close, but not too close..

He turned his head slightly, eyes catching yours.

"Here," he offered you his drink, you took it his fingers grazing yours, and tipped it to your lips. It burned, smooth and hot and you gave it back with a little grin.

"Still drinking the cheap stuff?"

Joel smirked, his eyes dragging over your face like he was trying to place the girl you used to be.

"Ain't cheap, it's familiar."

"Sounds like an excuse," you teased.. "you always this sentimental, or just when there's firelight and whiskey?"

Joel smirked as he shoke his head and tossed back a sip of his drink, but the tension was like a string pulled taut between you.

Your dad cracked a joke across the fire, you laughed including joel.

You leaned forward slightly, elbows on your knees, eyes fixed on the fire like it was suddenly the most interesting thing in the world.

The breeze off the lake had started to pick up, brushing cool across your bare arms. You weren't really cold, not yet. But you saw your chance.

You shivered, just a little. Enough for him to notice.

Joel didn't speak at first. But you heard the subtle shift of fabric beside you. Then without a word, he stood up.

You looked up in time to watch him shrug off the flannel shirt he'd work over his t shirt.

He held it out to you.

You blinked, your lips curving slowly. "Really, gonna give me the shirt off your back?"

"Wouldn't want you catchin' a chill," he said, you took it, letting your fingers brush his as you did. You made sure they did.

The flannel was still warm when you slipped your arms through the sleeves, oversized and heavy, swallowing your frame. His scent hit you immediately, deep and woodsy.

Joel sat again beside you, this time just a little closer. His thigh brushed yours and he didn't shift away.

"Better?" He asked, still looking at the fire, you tugged the flannel tighter around yourself, crossed your arms and leaned back a little so your shoulder nudged into his. "Much."

Soon the fire had burned lower, down to soft glowing embers and the occasional crack of a stubborn log.

Your dad was mumbling something about early fishing plans and disappearing towards the porch, leaving just the two of you and the dying fire.

You were still wrapped in Joel's flannel, tucked around your bare legs, the sleeves swallowing your hands. You hadn't givin it back. You had no plans to.

Joel say beside you, quite and still, his eyes fixed on the flames like they were keeping him anchored.

You leaned back on your hands, stretching jut a a little, the flannel slipping open slightly at the collar..

The tank top underneath did little to hide the curve of your chest and you caught him looking.

Again.

"Careful," you said softly, smirking. "You're staring."

Joel's jaw tightened, "don't flatter yourself, sweetheart."

You huffed a laugh, "oh, please. You've been sneaking looks at me since the dock."

"You keep pokin' at me like that..." He murmured "youre gonna find out exactly how much self control I don't have left."

You heart thudded hard.

He was close enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath fan across your neck.

Your thighs pressed together instinctively, but you didn't move away. Not even a little.

Instead you smiled slowly.

Bratty.

Defiant.

"I think you like being poked, Joel."

"You've got a smart mouth," he said , still too close, "somebody ought to teach you what to do with it."

"Maybe I'm waiting for the right teacher."

That made his nostrils flare. His gaze dropped to your mouth, again and stayed there.

The fire crackles in the pit, Joel didn't move. Didn't touch.

But his restraint was hanging by a thread.

You could feel it.

And you wanted to cut it.

You let your manicured fingers rest on his thigh, just above his knee.

Innocent.

"I'm not cold anymore," you said sweetly. "But I think I'll keep your flannel."

Joel exhaled hard through his nose, like he was trying not to say something that would get him in trouble.

Too late.

He looked at you like he was already imagining all the ways he could silence your teasing, how he could put your bratty little mouth to better use.

But he didn't.

Not yet.

Instead, he stood up, eyes dragging down your body like be was carvving it into memory..

"Go inside," he said, voice rough. "Before I stop being a gentleman.

You smiled up at him, wicked and satisfied.

"Promise?""

Joel didn't answer.

But his eyes said everything.

To be continued...

[slvbum]

youre on your own kid ♡ Rafe Cameron!

content WARNING: Rafe Cameron × Barbie!Reader, bad parenting, mentions of drugs, mentions of sex, mentions of pregnancy, abandonment.

♡ notie note . . . reposting this bc it got lost n the other acc lol!

For nearly a week, Rafe had been crashing at Y/N’s trailer, and it felt like they’d carved out their own little universe. The world outside didn’t exist. It was just them, tangled up in each other, high on whatever she had stashed in her beat-up jewellery box.

The trailer was a mess, with empty beer cans, ashtrays overflowing, and her glittery thrift-store clothes strewn across the floor, but it was their mess.

They’d get high, and fuck with a reckless intensity that left them breathless, laughing, and clinging to each other. They’d sprawl on her lumpy mattress, passing a joint, her head on his chest as she rambled about absurd things, like how she’d be a pop star in a past life or how the trailer park was secretly built on an alien landing site. Rafe would laugh, call her “barbie,” and pull her closer. They’d raid her fridge for stale chips, make out against the counter, and fall back into bed, the rest of the world irrelevant.

And for once, Rafe didn’t feel like he was running from something. With Y/N, he could just be.

But by the sixth day, something nagged at him.

The trailer was quiet—too quiet.

No parents stumbling in, no shouting matches, no signs of life beyond her chaos. Her mom, Tammy, was a drunk who’d usually barge in slurring insults, and her dad, Earl, was a ghost who’d show up only to break something or yell. Rafe had braced himself for Tammy to storm in, maybe catch them half-naked and scream about him not daring to get Y/N pregnant. As it always happened, but it didn’t happen this time.

The absence was loud, heavier than the haze they’d been living in.

That afternoon, they were sprawled on the couch, her legs draped over his lap. She was sober for once, her eyes clearer but her movements restless, like she was trying to outrun something. Rafe lit a cigarette, watching her pick at her chipped neon polish.

“Where’s your mom been?” he asked, casual but curious. “Haven’t heard her yelling all week. Or your dad. They on some bender?”

She froze for a split second, then forced a giggle, her go-to shield. “Oh, you know, probably off winning parents of the year somewhere.” She flicked her hair back, but her smile was too tight, her eyes darting to the floor.

Rafe wasn’t high enough to let it slide. He sat up, exhaling smoke. “Y/N. Where are they?”

She shrugged, picking at a loose thread on her shorts. “They left. No big deal.” Her voice was light, but her fingers trembled slightly.

“Left?” Rafe’s brow furrowed. “Like, for a trip or what? How long they been gone?”

Her giggle was weaker this time, almost brittle. “Uh, like… three weeks? Give or take.” She stood abruptly, crossing the room to a cluttered kitchen counter, where she pulled out a crumpled envelope from under a pile of takeout menus. “They left this. Some cash, too. Real generous, right?”

Rafe took the letter, his stomach twisting. The paper was cheap, stained with coffee rings, and the handwriting was a messy scrawl. It was barely coherent, a rambling mess about “needing a fresh start” and “you’re better off on your own, kid.”

They mentioned leaving her a couple hundred bucks, like that was enough to make up for it. The last line stuck out: Don’t come looking. We’re done.

Rafe read it twice, his grip tightening until the paper crinkled. He looked up at Y/N, who was leaning against the counter, arms crossed, staring at the floor.

“They’re gone,” Rafe said, not a question. “For good.”

She didn’t meet his eyes. “Yeah, well, good riddance, right? Less yelling, more space.” She tried to laugh, but it came out more like a choke. “I mean, I’ve been on my own forever anyway. Same shit, different day.”

Rafe stood, crossing the small space to her. He saw it now... the way her shoulders slumped, the way her fingers dug into her arms like she was holding herself together. The trailer felt suffocating, a trash heap of a home she’d been abandoned in. He wanted to say something, anything, but words weren’t his thing. Instead, he pulled her into him, wrapping his arms around her. She stiffened at first, then melted, her face buried in his chest.

“You’re not alone,” he muttered, his voice rough. “You got me, alright?”

She didn’t respond, just held on tighter, her fingers clutching his shirt.

For the first time all week, the haze was gone, and all that was left was the raw, ugly truth of her life.

Rafe didn’t know how to fix it, hell, he could barely fix himself, but he knew he wasn’t leaving her in this dump alone.

“C’mon, barbie,” he said, pulling back to look at her. “Let’s get out of here for a bit. Grab some food, get high, whatever you want.”

She sniffed, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, and managed a small, real smile. “You’re paying.”

He smirked, grabbing her hand. “Always do.”

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ©slvbun — written with love.

[help-help-i-need-an-adult]

Don’t underestimate this. It nearly killed me as a kid. Neurodivergent baby queer trying to fit in? Yeah, didn’t work so well.

I genuinely LOVE how this is explored in The Handmaids Tale in I want to say season 3?

This is Natalie. I don’t remember her Of- name cause fuck that shit.

She was a good handmaid. She did exactly what she was told. Swallowed the doctrine she’d been forced to live under hook line and sinker. And she told on her walking partner, the main character June, and got a different woman executed as a result. She felt no remorse for this, because in her mind it was the right thing to do and was protecting June.

In response, June wielded her status among the other Handmaids to isolate Natalie. I can’t even blame June for doing so despite where I know that lead. A kind woman was now dead. The Handmaids had to be the one to execute her. June was now farther away from her daughter than ever. I’d probably socially shun the class traitor too.

Anyway.

Natalie was surrounded by people all day every day who shared her values, but was in a different class than them. So she had no genuine connection with them.

She was also surrounded by other women of her class, who were in the exact same boat as her, going through the exact same processes and daily routines and monthly ceremonies and abuse. They were her built in friends and companions. Gilead designed it to be her built in friends and support network. But she sided with their oppressors and had no connection with said built in friends either.

And said built in friends turned on her the same way she had turned on them and she ended up in the middle of a shaming circle.

At some point after that (the timeline in the show being unclear) she snaps and beats the only person who was trying to show her genuine kindness with a can of something at the grocery store. Another handmaid.

She got her hands on a gun and was about to shoot the Aunt in charge of handling her, who had rewarded her for turning on June, but then lead her shaming when June got the opportunity to tell on her. In response, an eye guarding the grocery store shot her. A pregnant handmaid. A very vulnerable class of woman in a very misogynistic society in the one state where she should have been untouchable.

But that just leads to the other side of the coin. The forced isolation that was then forced on June, unofficially for her hand in Natalie’s fate, officially just for being Natalie’s walking partner. “Where else would she be?”

They put Natalie’s brain dead body on life support and tell June to kneel and pray. June can’t leave until there’s a baby.

June is stuck in that room for months.

She isn’t alone all the time. At least not physically. Just like Natalie.

Wives come and go to pray. Other Handmaids come and kneel around her to pray. Aunt Lydia comes and goes to check on her. Doctors come and go to keep the baby alive.

But June is isolated, nonetheless, because she is not permitted to do anything outside of necessary things like eat and sleep. Otherwise, she kneels and waits.

Her knees develop blisters.

Her lips are constantly chapped.

The shadows around her eyes are haunting.

She limps when she walks.

Watching her get up off the floor the first time that episode is painful.

She has lapses in time that are far too real.

She sings the same song over and over again to herself in time to the beeping of the monitors.

Even the woman who held her down while her husband raped her can see she is unwell and is concerned.

And she gets desperate for a way out. Considers killing Natalie and the baby. Reaches into a hazard box and gets a scalpel to do it. Attacks her former mistress when she comes to pray for the baby instead. Ends up cutting herself pretty badly too.

After the attack and hurting herself, the doctor who’s been keeping Natalie going just enough talks to her and patches her up. He says something about what isolation does to a person and June realizes that what’s being done to her is what she did to Natalie.

She goes back to kneeling, and singing in her head. She doesn’t get the scalpel back despite it being put right back in the box she fished it out of.

Once the baby is born, and June is finally free to leave, she chooses to stay behind with Natalie as her body is finally allowed to die off. Sits with her and shows her compassion in a way they didn’t know how to show each other in life. Not in a hellscape like Gilead.

Anyway. It is a great exploration in social isolation and how it can drive a human to their worst.

its crazy how so many people do not understand that social isolation isnt just sitting alone in your apartment all day never speaking to anyone you could be surrounded by acquaintances and friends but have absolutely no genuine connection or shared values so every interaction is shallow its basically just as bad as being alone if not worse

[supremehavok]

Indecent Proposal (two shot) | m.r

plot: Truly, there is never a right time for Robby to propose to you.

category: fluff, a tiny bit of angst if you squint muse: Dr. Michael “Robby” Robinavitch

c/w: Myrna is a warning in her own right, sexual language but no actual smut, bodily fluids (piss), mentions of death, mentions of a gunshot wound, fracture bone and all that comes with it (bone realignment, etc), inaccurate medical depictions (I’m not a doctor I just play one on tv), reader has feminine pronouns, no use of y/n

w/c: 1.3k

a/n: This is a two shot!! There will be a conclusion. I thought it was getting too long anyways and decided to split it up into two parts

“I’m not doing it today.”

“Why not?”

“It’s not the right time for it.”

“There’s never a right time for it. The morale in this place takes a nosedive every thirty minutes. We all leave our shifts crying at least once a week. What makes today so different?” Dana shrugged.

Robby rubbed the back of his neck. “Her car crash patient hemorrhaged a few minutes into surgery. He’s not gonna make it.”

“Poor kid,” Dana grimaced briefly.

“She notified his parents, and they really laid into her. We always tell everyone not to take it personally, but—”

“...but sometimes it’s hard not to,” Dana finished the sentence, the same line both she and Robby repeated to the younger nurses and doctors.

Even after sharing a moment of mutual understanding, Robby shook his head at the charge nurse. “She won’t want to entertain anything I’d have planned. It’s not happening tonight.” It was pretty much the end of the discussion at that point. Robby patted his hand down on the surface of Dana’s desk before excusing himself to a patient’s room.

For months now Robby has felt the conflicted pattern of emotions; he wanted to propose to you so badly, but he was so fixated on it being ‘the right time’ that anytime any minor inconvenience occurred, he’d tell himself it’s just not the right day and then say he’d do it tomorrow. The tomorrows had come and gone ever since he picked up the engagement ring from the jeweler. He knew he was being neurotic, but he couldn’t help it. At the end of the day, he wanted the moment he got down on one knee to be memorable. He wanted it to be special for you.

He decided that the day your patient died and their grieving parents chewed you out was not the perfect time.

Several days later, he was ready. Everything seemed perfect. The weather was nice, the Pitt was surprisingly docile, and it all felt so correct. It was going to be the perfect day until EMTs came bursting through the trauma bay with an unresponsive woman lying on a gurney. Once Langdon shouted out, “Can I get some help over here?’ you came running and ready to administer all the help you could. That is, until you took an unfortunate slip and fell right on your back in a puddle of a patient’s piss that Esme was just coming around to cleaning up. Other nurses had already made it to the gurney to assist Langdon, so you just allowed yourself to completely feel the dull aches in your spine all the way down to your tailbone. Feeling completely defeated as Mel came to your aid with an extended hand.

“I’m just gonna… I’m just going to go…,” you muttered, more to yourself than anyone else. You put your hand out softly to Mel as she took a few steps towards you to help, but you felt too stunned and embarrassed to even look her fully in the eye as you walked back to the scrubs dispenser to get a new set and to wash yourself as best you could while hiding away in the bathroom for a few minutes. After he heard what had happened, Robby walked by the nurse’s station, glanced at Dana as he walked by, and said, “Nope.”

He decided that the day you slipped in piss and nearly broke your tailbone was not the perfect time.

Robby gave it time. He watched the days go by, went through a few more less than glamorous shifts with you, until he got that feeling again. Today was the day. The ring was practically burning a hole in his dresser drawer at home. He knew exactly how he’d do it: he’d invite you to come back to his house instead of walking you home like usual, he’d make a late night dinner and allow you both to unwind, after dinner he’d take you to the couch and recite the little speech he wrote months ago, and right then would be when he popped the question. It was simple, not much room for error—hopefully. It set Robby’s mind at ease that he could actually have worked his way up to this point. It felt surreal to think that in a few hours, you’d be wearing the ring, saying yes to being his wife, saying yes to sharing your life with him.

Then the incident happened, because of course it did. A patient came in complaining of intense pain in their abdomen. You and Whitaker took him to an available room, and just as you were both helping him onto the bed, another flare-up of intense cramps and aches occurred. The patient seemed to seize up and go limp from the pain, leaving Whitaker’s hand trapped under the dead weight of the patient’s back.

“Ah shit,” Whitaker winced, “I think I’m stuck.”

You immediately came to his aid, gripping his forearm to yank his hand free. There wasn’t much coordination established, just a sharp tug on your end that worked a little bit too well, as Whitaker’s hand was pulled free and his knuckles snapped back to nail you right in the nose. You fell down from the force of the med student’s hand striking your face; the stinging sensation of the injury and the taste of blood dripping into your mouth were all-consuming for a minute. You waved off Whitaker’s panicked apologies, getting up and calling out for Princess to take over in your absence.

A fractured nose. Deliciously painful and now a cosmetic reminder of friendly fire in the workplace. Truthfully, it wasn't as bad as it could’ve been. You weren’t in the market for a nose job, so having your nose realigned manually with no prognosis of needed surgery was a win in your very sad little book of the day. Later on that day, Robby found himself in front of Dana’s station, and she gave him that look.

“Absolutely not,” he said.

“She will be your girlfriend until she has to put you in a nursing home if you continue putting this off any longer than you already have.”

Robby pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. He knew full well that Dana was right; he had been putting this off for way too long, and the longer he waited, the more impossible the task seemed. “I know, okay, I know. I just don’t think realigning the bone and cartilage of her nose sets the tone for the day I ask her to be my wife.”

“If you want my advice, fruitcake.” Myrna. The soft rattle of her arm moving against her handcuffs signalled her arrival before her voice even did. Her wheelchair creeping up on Robby’s left side, poking herself into the conversation in the usual fashion. “The way to get a woman to say yes to anything is to eat her pussy like it’s your last meal before death.”

Dana shut her eyes as if blocking her vision would keep herself composed. Her lips tightened, and she was barely holding in the impending shout of laughter. “You have to be real good at it though,” Myrna continued, no one stopping her. “I once slept with this man back in ‘86. Licked me like I was a frozen lamppost, so I waited ‘til he fell asleep and robbed his ass blind for wasting my time.”

“Alright, as always, it was great speaking to you, Myrna.” Robby turned around to take the handles of Myrna’s wheelchair and move her back to a different corner of the ER. He flagged down Donnie to take Myrna to get a sandwich from the cart—effectively getting away from her as he walked back to Dana.

“If all else fails,” was all Dana could muster as she finally allowed herself to laugh, covering her reddening face with the papers she had been reading. Robby shook his head, torn between feeling exasperated and amused. It was easier for him to just let out a long sigh from his nose and move onto something to capture his focus and allow him to put off confronting his anxieties. Supervising Santos stitching up a gnarly gunshot wound was as good of a distraction as any.

[wheatnoodle]

stranger things teacher!steve au where he accidentally becomes the best teacher at hawkins high school

it starts at lucas’s basketball practice one evening.

steve arrives early, figures he’ll watch them all practice as he waits for lucas to finish up. and from what he can see, this coach, different from who he had all his years of high school, is floundering. he’s shouting his head off at kids, insults flying from his lips like that’s what he’s really getting paid to do. nothing constructive to help them better themselves, of course not (and trust, they need all the help they can get). it’s hard enough to listen to, but then he watches the coach call a play. and he’s both seen and played enough basketball to know somebody is going home with a broken ankle.

that’s what gets him rushing down the bleachers and over to this god awful coach.

“hey, do you mind if i, um, if i step in here? it’s just, i don’t think this method of coaching is really beneficial to-“ he starts his long winded explanation only to be cut off by the shoving of a clipboard into his chest.

“take it. i don’t care,” the coach grumbles, “these kids are all USELESS ANYWAYS! i QUIT!”

and steve stands so shocked for a few seconds before he snaps out of it and calls the team in to huddle up. lucas claps him on the shoulder with a “way to go, steve! that dude always has a stick up his ass!” (“language, sinclair” “yeah, yeah, are you gonna coach us now or what?”)

and that’s how steve finds himself in the principal’s office, as a graduated adult, being given the rundown of what exactly being the hawkins high basketball coach entails.

and, to nobody’s surprise, he does…fantastic. he gives pep talks before practices and games, brings actually healthy snacks (it starts with just fruit and waters, but it quickly turns into fully packed lunches when he learns how little some of his athletes get to eat), drills feel like backyard games, and they have monthly team bonding nights.

he does so well in fact, that when mr.hinckley, the school’s gym teacher, has an accident and needs to take time off to heal, it only makes sense that steve harrington is once again sat in the maroon chair across from the principal. he’s being offered a temporary position, maybe a few weeks, maybe a few months, may even be till the end of the year. this would also make him the health/home ec teacher (at least it did in my school).

mind you, steve’s only been graduated for what, a year? robin’s still a senior, eddie a super super senior, and all of his little rats are in their freshman year.

so he’s in his first day of officially teaching and all of the kids know him as “coach”, so that’s what they choose to call him (it makes him cringe to hear “mr.harrington”. that’s his dad, and anything to not be like his dad-). and it starts with his second period gym class where in walks dustin henderson and mike wheeler, one much more pleased to see him than the other. dustin gets told off plenty for calling him by his first name during school hours (“it’s either mr.h or coach while we’re here, you got it, twerp?”) and mike meanders around the track to make the mile.

after that comes fourth period, where he’s expected to teach cooking to a group of seniors that would much rather be anywhere else and oh look there’s his best friend robin and eddie, the guy he has a massive crush on that’s now his student???

robin could not be happier to be calling her best friend all of the silly teacher names under the sun. all “sir” and “coach harrington”. she raises her hand high in the air and asks stupid questions just to get on his nerves. eddie has never paid so much attention in class before. he leans his chin on his palms and smiles up at steve all sweet and pretty like he’ll pass him just like that. (this becomes an issue later down the road when he realizes all of his friends expect him to pass them just because they’re them and he’s him. but, boy, does he have another thing coming for them when dustin gets his progress report back with a big fat F In his gym class).

another issue comes in the fact of just how young he is. most of his students, he went to school with. they saw the rise and fall of “king steve” due to now senior nancy wheeler. the jocks think they’re going to get a free ride, and the nerds are…well…terrified of him.

so he makes it his mission to prove to these kids just how much he’s changed. he lets his students know his classroom door is always open during lunch breaks and free periods (even when he’s teaching, if they just need to get away for a little while). hellfire needs a teacher to watch over them during club hours or else they’ll get shut down, so who better than steve? jeff, grant, and gareth are all wary of him at first and it takes a few sessions and eddie and the kids swearing up and down that he’s a good person before they start to warm up to him. of course, he comes bearing snacks and waters for their hours long sessions, just like his basketball boys.

with the corroded coffin boys showing that they were giving coach harrington a second chance, slowly the other nerds/geeks/freaks/and losers start to loosen up around him a little bit as well.

a group of kids starts stopping by his classroom during their lunch period, claiming to just be getting away from all of the noise. steve gets it, he can’t handle loud noises as well as he used to. but it’s afterwards when the group goes out into the hallways and he sees one of his ex jock friends shoves the smallest one into a locker that he makes his stance known. he storms over, steps between the groups and says how “this is absolutely unacceptable”. there is no room for bullying in his hallways and he makes it clear by giving the offender two detentions with him and dragging him to the principal’s office by his ear to call his parents and let them know what kind of kid they raised.

he starts turning his cooking class into a competition show, pairing up new groups of jocks and nerds combined to come up with the best dishes, chopped style. he stands back and watches as these kids of all different social levels work together and collaborate like they’ve been friends their whole lives. he answers questions when he’s really needed, but instead he just enjoys watching all of these kids suddenly be put on the same level of intelligence as each other.

more and more kids start showing up during their free periods to the point where he has full classrooms every day. the hellfire club comes by at least two to three times a week, robin stopping by every day to eat lunch and gossip with her bestie.

steve gets so involved with the school it’s unreal. he’s planning spirit week, he puts together activities for the pep rally (of course there’s a teacher vs student tug of war), and he chaperones every field trip he can because how is he supposed to say no to the aquarium, dustin? he sets up a tutoring club so that kids can come down and get help from other students or teachers that volunteer to help out. and even though he doesn’t have the best memory after so many knocks to the head, steve does his best to remember all of his students’ names and a fun fact about them so he always has something to talk about or ask about with his kids. he high fives students in the hallways and they even surprise him by asking when the next basketball game is (the championship game has the biggest turn out they’ve ever seen).

there’s an uptick in students actually participating in gym class because of his teaching, making everything truly feel like they’re just playing games together. mike even manages to round all the bases in a game of kickball (steve hasn’t felt so proud in a while). they go outside a lot when the marching band is out practicing when he realizes his students run faster with a little music. plus, what a great way to integrate band geeks and gym kids. he anonymously donates some of his parents money towards the school’s lacking sports department when more students start showing an interest in playing.

when mr.hinckley turns his leave of absence into an early retirement, it only makes sense that steve fills in the position full time the following school year.

eddie actually manages to graduate with steve’s help, which good for him! finally out of high school! except eddie can no longer live out his teacher/student fantasy in his head anymore. now when they start dating, steve isn’t breaking any rules that could cost him his job.

robin follows in his footsteps after her graduation and by the next year, she’s the assistant band director for hawkins high school. she wears a lanyard around and shoots finger guns at her students when she walks by. she still spends her free periods and lunch breaks in steve’s classroom, except now it’s ms.b going to spend the afternoon with her best friend, coach, instead of a student spending a bit tooooo long in a teacher’s room.

steve is doing so well in fact, that when vice principal morgan goes on maternity leave, it only makes sense that steve is once again sitting in the principal’s office. he’s told it’s an “acting” vice principal gig. a few months down the road and he’s the “interim” vice principal. after that, he just slots himself into another job, yet again, as mrs.morgan chooses the stay at home mom life. “vp coach” or “coach vp” the student body starts calling him.

so hes still the gym/health/home ec teacher and the basketball coach, but now he’s got some extra responsibilities and a sick new title. now as vice principal, steve is able to help with delegating the school’s budget. he gets a little wiggle room and puts it towards the arts and the music departments. eddie is able to come in a couple times a week and teach guitar lessons to the kids, hell, maybe he’s even the orchestra director.

so, steve takes over the school, one uplifted child and questionable job position at a time.

basically i love modern family and think that steve following the teacher path line that cameron tucker did from football coach to vp makes me giggle.

maybe i’ll continue in this, maybe make it into a little group of one shots, we’ll see.

[simplyhale]

You write JJ Maybank AND Tim Bradford fics?! Idk if you’ve ever been told you’re the GOAT before, but you are.

If you are taking any requests I’d love a Tim Bradford one where maybe him and reader are married and have a few kids who say stuff like “you’re always touching/kissing mom” or “you always do what mom says”. Idk just soft domestic fluff.

˚ ‧ ⁺ ✧˚ — ˚ ‧ ⁺ ✧*

˚ ‧ ⁺ ✧˚ — ˚ ‧ ⁺ ✧*

Tim’s routine after work was always the same. He makes sure the long list of items that need to be done gets done. Each item that needs to be checked in and signed for is done.

Clocks out and changes from his uniform back into his civilian clothes.

Try to beat the L.A. rush hour traffic.

Failing to beat the rush hour. 

Text you that he did not beat rush hour.

When he does finally reach the front door of your shared home it is usually between 7-7:30 p.m. From the moment he walks through the threshold he becomes fully at your mercy. As if he wasn’t already. 

He drops his bags on the small bench by the door. Taking a seat to take off his boots, all while Kojo demands his ‘welcome home’ pets. Making sure to put his keys, pocketknife, wallet, and any other items that were in his pockets into the small dish housed on the shelf above the bench. 

Making his way to the kitchen with a slight frown of his brows. Normally your kid, a five-year-old girl, would be trying to tell him everything she did today in one single breath. While you watched from wherever the two of you had been before he walked in. Usually scoping her up into his arms and walking over to you, giving you your normal ‘back in one piece’ kiss. 

But this time was different.

Things were far too quiet.

Now normally he would assume that you two were just asleep somewhere. 

It wasn’t just any normal silences (besides the normal background house noises), it came with a sweet cinnamon smell. Along with a warmth that meant the oven was on, and you were baking something.

When he walked into the kitchen he was met with your five-year-old and you sat on the floor, watching the oven window as if it was a t.v. screen. Your girl’s face is bright and joyful with a wide smile, looking over at him. Making his own smile grow at the sight. “Daddy, you almost missed it!’ Jumping up she raced over and grabbed his head and pulled him to their spot. Turning her attention right back to the silver circle pan full of cinnamon rolls. 

You turned to him; his smile caused you to smile. “I promised her cinnamon rolls this morning, and we got busy.”

“So, this is desert?”

“See I did marry you for more than your good looks.” He shook his head slightly, still looking at you like you were the most beautiful thing he has ever seen. Reaching up and cupping your cheek he brought you into a kiss. One that you felt him melt into. All of the worries that he had from a day of work were gone. Not fully. But at this moment it didn’t matter.

“Ewwww,”

The two of you laughing is what caused you to part. Looking to seeing your child giving her parents a gross look before turning back to the glass. You simply shook your head, turning your attention back to Tim. Taking him in. He had kept his morning promise, a promise he always made before leaving the house. Making it back in one piece to you. Of course, you knew he was only a text, or call, away. Having gone a whole shift without an answer. Nearly calling the station when the words that said ‘read’ and the current time caused you to relax. You started to take in every inch of his face, as if you didn’t already have it memorized. “Hi baby,”

He caressed his thumb across your cheek, you lean fully into his hold, “Hi sweetheart,” Then he scooted over so he could wrap his arm around you, pulling you into his side. Your hand reached up and trailing your nails up and down the back of his neck, while your other hand rested on his chest. Tapping it and popping your head up from his shoulder to look at him when the thought pop into your head, “I almost forgot. I made spaghetti and your plate is in the microwave. I can heat it up if you want?”

“But you’ll miss the rise!” 

Tim nodded his head to the small girl with large pout, already knowing that she was waiting to see the dough raise up. “You heard her, we can’t miss the rise!” He exclaimed, with kiss to your temple.

“Why do you always have to touch Mommy?”

“Because I love Mommy,” He then reached forwards pulling the small girl into his lap, as your body turned so it could be touching both your child and husband. And just like that every worry that you had, rather it being Tim’s job or everyday issues was gone. Because in this moment nothing else mattered. Nothing but the three of you in this kitchen. 

— 𝜗𝜚✧* ₊˚ෆ՞ so so so sorry this took forever, i’ve been busy but i hope you enjoyed what i write! thank you for this request and thank you for enjoying my writing! i think i might be writing another JJ fic in the future and will defiantly tag you if i do! please don’t hesitate with any other especially cute fluff like this!

[papayaem]

One Hundred Kisses

Gn!Reader x drunk!Daniel Ricciardo

Based on this anon request: how about a drunk!daniel refused to sleep when you didn't let him have his 100th kiss on you so he whined and fake cried like a baby asking for your affection. you then proposed to tell daniel what you loved about him until he fell asleep.

Warnings: Drunk, mentions of alcohol (no active drinking), fluff

It started with a slurred number.

"Ninety-nine!" Daniel beamed triumphantly, lips pressed to your cheek as he counted yet another kiss.

You laughed, arms wrapped around him to keep him from toppling over. “That’s enough, baby. You’ve had your ninety-nine.”

He pulled back, blinking at you, betrayal written all over his expressive face. “Nooo. No, no, no. One more. Just one.” He held up a finger, nearly poking you in the eye. “The hundredth one is special. That’s, like, the anniversary of kisses.”

You squinted at him. “That’s not how that works.”

He let out a wounded groan, dramatically collapsing backward onto the couch like a man denied his final wish. “You’re being so mean to me.”

“You’ve had three beers and two glasses of wine. You’re sloshed.”

He sniffled—sniffled—and rolled onto his stomach, hugging a throw pillow like it had betrayed him less than you had. “Just a little kiss. A tiny one. A micro-kiss. I’ll cry. Don’t test me.”

You raised a brow. “You are crying.”

“Fake crying,” he mumbled into the pillow, then peeked one eye up at you. “Unless it works.”

You knelt beside the couch, brushing his curls off his flushed face. “Dan.”

“Yeah?” he sniffed, bottom lip out.

“I love you.”

“That’s not a kiss,” he grumbled, but the corner of his mouth twitched.

You smiled. “You want one more kiss?”

He nodded like an overgrown toddler, still half-pouting.

“How about this—no more kisses for now, but I’ll tell you a hundred things I love about you. You’ll get that hundred, just not in the way you expected.”

Daniel perked up, resting his chin on the pillow. “Are you serious?”

“Dead serious.”

He squinted. “But you better not cheat and say, like, ‘your elbows’ and ‘your knees.’ That doesn’t count.”

You laughed softly. “No cheating. All real things. Now lie down.”

He snuggled into the couch, arm thrown dramatically over his face like a melodramatic prince. “Fine. Begin.”

You leaned in, kissed his forehead, and began counting.

“One: I love the way you light up when you’re excited about something—like a little kid who’s just discovered racecars for the first time.”

“Mmhmm,” he hummed, eyes fluttering shut.

“Two: I love that you’d rather make people laugh than win an argument.”

A lazy smile tugged at his lips.

“Three: I love how you remember the tiniest things about me. Like how you never forget I hate cold butter on toast.”

“Because that’s a crime,” he mumbled.

“Four: I love the way you take care of everyone around you—even when you’re the one who needs rest.”

You went on. You told him about how his laugh made your day better, how his voice sounded different when he was being genuine, how he danced like no one was watching even when everyone was, how he sang off-key just to make you giggle.

By number thirty-five, he was shifting less.

By fifty-two, his breaths had evened out.

By seventy, you knew he was asleep.

But you kept going—softly, like a lullaby—for your own heart.

And when you reached number one hundred, you leaned in and pressed one final kiss to his temple.

“For your hundredth,” you whispered. “Told you you’d get it.”He didn’t stir—but the smile on his lips told you he heard every word.

Please to not copy or Translate without permission x

[magicalqueennightmare]

Favorite Hero Too

Bucky Barnes x Single Mom Reader

So, maybe Bucky is your favorite Hero too?

Fluff

Follow up to Favorite Hero

“Charlie! You have to eat breakfast” what were you thinking? How had you agreed to go to the watchtower? She was bouncing off the walls. The prospect of seeing her hero again? She was losing it. Not to mention the fact that Bucky, Yelena, Ava and Bob had all promised selfies with her. She was barely wanting to get her waffles down.

“But mama!” you shook your head and tapped the table “No but mama! You wanna see them? You eat” she stuck her bottom lip out but took a bite of her waffle. You laughed lightly “Good girl”

Your nerves were up just a little bit also. It of course had nothing to do with the fact that Bucky as it turned out was a sweetheart. You just kept thinking about his smile. You couldn’t do that. God you couldn’t do that. “Mama?” she asked and you looked up from your own breakfast and coffee “Yeah babe?” she grinned “Bucky said you was pretty” 

You felt your face warm “He didn’t” she nodded “Lena said you was. Bucky agreed” you shook your head with a laugh “That was eavesdropping young lady! We don’t do that” she nodded “I’m sorry but he did” and finished her waffles. She then hopped down from the table and ran off to find her shoes. You shook your head and cleared the plates. You didn’t want to leave anything undone because you had every idea it was going to be a pain to get her pulled away from the watchtower once you got her there. 

You texted Bucky to let him know you and her were headed that way. He told you to call when you got there so he could meet you and her downstairs. See you soon then Mr Barnes you texted and he replied Looking forward to it

“So, tell me more about this mystery woman” John laughed as his son Jamie finished a stack of pancakes at the table between Alexei and Bob. John was leaning against the counter talking to Bucky and Yelena. Yelena grinned “She’s very pretty Walker and her daughter adores Bucky. He’s her favorite hero” John grinned “Really?”

Bucky raised an eyebrow “Watch it Walker” John raised both hands defensively “Weren’t saying anything. You said her daughter..Charlie? That she’s what four?” Yelena nodded and John smiled “Not much difference in age with Jamie. Would be good for him for there to be another kid around on his weekends” Yelena waved a hand at him, cutting her eyes at Bucky “See? Even Walker agrees with it”

Bucky shook his head “First of all, you both are idiots. Second of all, she gets a say so in the matter. Just because I’m her daughter’s favorite hero doesn’t mean she would want anything to do with some former brainwashed assassin from the forties” 

Ava walked by and muttered “No but the way she was looking at you does” which made Yelena and John both burst out laughing.

You and Charlie climbed out of the cab in front of the watchtower and paid the fare. You hit Bucky’s number as you walked up to the door. It rang twice before he answered “Hey, you downstairs?” “Yes we are” you replied and he chuckled lightly “Give me five minutes”

Less than five passed before the door was swinging open and Charlie was hollering “BUCKY!” you shook your head with a laugh “Can we attempt a Mr somewhere in there babe?” he grinned “It’s ok” you raised an eyebrow at him and he laughed, leaning down to be eye level with Charlie “Hey little miss. Just because I’m good with being called Bucky, you gotta remember manners. Ok?” she nodded “Yes sir”

You smiled at him when he stood up and mouthed “Thank you” and he nodded then waved a hand “Come on. We got a couple more people you two didn’t meet and John’s son is here too” you smiled “Hear that Charlie? Somebody your age to hang out with too”

She reached for Bucky’s left hand and he let her wrap her small hand around his metal palm. You saw the worry in his eyes but when she simply grinned it looked like something softened in him. Like her trusting that arm meant something. 

She reached her other hand out for you so the three of you walked onto the elevator like that. 

___________________

Alexei was outrageous but friendly. He made Charlie laugh with how outlandish he was. John was friendly and polite. He called you ma’am with a southern twang when he shook your hand and his son Jamie was the cutest little thing. It wasn’t long until Jamie and Charlie had Alexei pulled into some game with them.

You stood to the side with Bucky and John watching the kids play and laughed lightly. Both men looked at you and you felt your face warm. “Sorry, just thinking about what my life is right now. My kid is playing with one of the new avengers’ kids” John laughed “Never thought anyone would be impressed because their kid was playing with my kid” you cut your eyes at him “Dude you may have bombed as Captain America but you turned out decent in the end”

He grinned “I feel like that’s a compliment?” you nodded “It is”  Bucky nodded “Turned out decent in the end is a compliment for you Walker” John rolled his eyes “You’re just bragging because Charlie keeps talking about how amazing you are” you turned to look at Bucky “Oh, you’re bragging?”

He shrugged “No” John bumped your arm lightly “Don’t let him lie. He’s been bragging” you grinned at Bucky “Don’t worry. She barely slept because she knew she was seeing you today” Bucky smiled “She’s a sweet kid. Proof she has a good mom” you felt your face warm slightly “Thank you”

John cleared his throat “I’m gonna go see about lunch for everyone. Anything Charlie can’t have?” you shook your head “Nope, she’s good to go on pretty much anything” he nodded “Ok” and walked away. You turned back to Bucky as Charlie ran over to you “Mama, Jamie is gonna be back in two weeks. Can we come again?” you weren’t sure what to say but Bucky spoke up “As long as it’s ok with your mom. All she has to do is call when you get here so someone can let you in. I’m sure John would like Jamie having someone to play with”

“I’ll tell Jamie” she ran off and you spun to look at Bucky who gave you a grin “Did I overstep?” you waved a hand “Talking to the mom before you tell the kid yes? That’s a must Barnes” he grimaced “I’m sorry sweetheart. She’s just so damn cute and she looks at me like I’m a hero” you laughed “You are a hero Bucky!”

He laughed then “You know what I mean” you shook your head “Well, I’ll guess we’ll be back in two weeks” he nodded “I’m sorry” you waved a hand “It’s ok. She needs someone to play with anyways and Jamie seems like a sweet kid”

“I could take you and her for dinner sometime too?” he offered and you cut your eyes at him “What exactly are you offering so I know how to respond?” he rolled his bottom lip between his teeth then shrugged “I just um..nevermind sorry” you laughed “Bucky, do you want to go out to dinner? Doesn’t have to be any pressure. Hell Charlie will be there unless Yelena wants to babysit” 

A smile slipped onto his face and he nodded “I’d like that” you grinned “Ok then”

___________________

“Charlie, sweet girl…we gotta go” you told her, looking at the time. It was nearly seven. You and her had been at the watchtower the entire day. It hadn’t seemed that long. She sighed “Ok” she hugged Jamie “See you later” you saw the way John smiled at the interaction then she went around the room telling everyone goodbye.

When she got to Bucky she hugged him extra tightly before climbing up you. You laughed when she laid her head over on your shoulder “Wore out?” she nodded, a yawn falling from her. “Let’s get home” you thanked everyone for letting the two of you crash their day. “Jamie enjoyed her being here” John told you with a smile.

“She is a strong girl” Alexei told you with a grin. “She’s welcome any time” Yelena told you. Bob smiled “It was fun” Ava nodded “I don’t like kids but her and Jamie are cool” and Bucky smiled at you “Are you two good to make it home?” you winked at him “We got it Barnes. No strangers to finding our way”

“So John has a son and Bucky is getting a daughter, yes?” Alexei asked Yelena and Bucky hollered across the common area “NO” and Yelena laughed “Exactly” 

“Seems that way” Ava teased and Bucky shook his head “All of you are insane. She’s beautiful yes but she just met me” “And you’re already making puppy eyes at her” Yelena teased. Bucky groaned under his breath “You’re all killing me” “So, you didn’t make a date with her?” Bob asked, which made Bucky’s eyes widened and the rest of the team explode in a frenzy of questions. 

“Thanks Bob” Bucky scoffed and Bob shrugged “Oops?”

A few days passed and Bucky texted you I’m free of missions for a few days. Can I buy you and Charlie dinner? 

Could you date a hero? He was gorgeous and sweet and amazing. You rolled your bottom lip between your teeth, reading the text then whistled to Charlie who looked up “Wanna go to dinner with Bucky?” she nodded so you texted back When and where? 

______________________

Two days later you sat across from Bucky with Charlie between the two of you in the booth. After some consideration you just decided on a pizza place.  He was attentive to her, charming to you and god help when the waitress made a comment about how cute the three of you were you nearly melted into a puddle.

“Sorry about that” you muttered once the waitress walked away and Bucky shrugged “I didn’t take any offense” Charlie was happily munching away and talking about everything from howling commando facts she knew to Jamie’s puppy’s name. 

Bucky cut his eyes up at you “So, Olivia was happy to know Jamie wasn’t alone at the tower” you raised an eyebrow “Guessing Olivia is John’s ex?” he nodded “Yup. I think you helped his case with Charlie making friends with Jamie” you laughed “Happy to help? I think” he grinned.

After pizza and some giant brownie thing that was considered a desert that Charlie devoured. It was time to call it a night. Bucky walked the two of you home. He walked you to the door and waited until you and her were safely inside to say “Goodnight ladies” “Night Bucky” she mumbled from her place on your shoulder “Night Bucky” you repeated with a smile.

Charlie spending weekends with Jamie was becoming routine. If an emergency mission popped up John asked you to stay with Jamie. Wasn’t like you couldn’t handle a kid anyways. How the hell had a simple walk in the park led to you being fully integrated with the new Avengers you had no idea.

Today was one of the days everyone was gone but Bob so you were entertaining Jamie and Charlie. They were watching a movie and Bob had somehow gotten drawn into it as well. Couldn’t blame him, you got drawn in half the time.

You heard your phone chime and picked it up Keep the kids on the common floor until we clean up the text made your stomach flip. Is everyone ok? You texted back and Bucky replied Yeah, we’re just dirty in the worst of ways.

That made you feel better. At least none of them were hurt. The team had quickly become your friends and Bucky… well Bucky had warmed your heart more than you’d care to admit.

____________________

“Kids good?” John asked and Bucky nodded, leaning his head back against the side of the quinjet “She’s keeping them on the common floor” 

Yelena laughed “Oh yeah Bucky. You sound like a dad worried his little girl will see him bloody and dirty” before Bucky could argue John cut his eyes at him with a grin “You kinda do” Bucky rolled his eyes. He cared about you, he cared about Charlie. Anymore it felt wrong going more than a couple days without seeing you two. He tried to talk to you two daily, unless a mission kept him from it.

Every other weekend you two were at the tower pretty much all day unless you had work. Yelena had even worked up to watching Charlie some nights for just the two of you to go out. Was he dating you? “Am I dating her?” he asked and the entire team burst out laughing “YES” Alexei answered for everyone. 

Bucky groaned “I haven’t even kissed her! She deserves better, so does Charlie. Those two are everything. I’d do anything for them” John grinned and Bucky shook his head “I’ll talk to her”

____________________

A few hours passed before everyone started drifting in. Alexei and Yelena. Then Ava and finally John and Bucky. When the kids saw them Jamie hollered “DADDY” and ran for John while Charlie hollered “BUCKY” and ran for Bucky.

You laughed as both super soldiers were nearly taken down by the kids. “You two good?” they both laughed, shifting kids to their shoulders “We’re good” John answered, cutting his eyes at Bucky before saying “Charlie, we got cookies in the kitchen. Wanna come with us to raid em?” she looked at you and you nodded “Go ahead” she grinned at Bucky who laughed “Go for it kid” she jumped to John who easily caught her and walked out with both kids.

Bucky walked over to you “Can we talk?” you nodded “Sure” he held out his hand and you slipped yours into it. The two of you walked out into the hallway and he turned to face you “Sweetheart, you and Charlie mean a lot to me” you nodded “Ok” he rubbed the back of his neck “I really like you. The team likes you. Jamie adores Charlie..” you laughed “Bucky are you asking me out again?”

A light blush graced his cheeks “I’m asking to kiss you” you nodded slowly “You can kiss me” he smiled and stepped closer. His metal hand went to your hip, gently gripping it as his flesh hand went to your face, cupping your chin. When his lips met yours the kiss was tentative and gentle. You smiled against his lips as the kiss deepened slightly. When the need for air forced you to part you laughed breathlessly “Yeah, Charlie has amazing taste in heroes” and his blush darkened. “She has an even more amazing mother”  

“We need to tell Charlie” you whispered and he grinned “Think she’ll be ok?” you nodded “With Bucky being mommy’s boyfriend? I just got so many cool mom points” and he burst out laughing “Nice to know I come in handy for something” you laughed and pulled him into another kiss. 

@moonylovepuff

@vicmc624

[nickpeppermint]

So i watched it, and this mf doesn't know what he's talking about AT ALL

He whines that Elio doesn't have a unique shape (neither do protagonists of Coco / Inside out / most of Incredibles cast which he praises) and completely ignores all the unique aliens, which INTENTIONALLY CONTRAST to humanoid Elio

He doesn't know the difference between art style, character appearance and silhouette, and he only sees it as a marketability tool

He doesn't bring shape language reasons, characters should be shaped like squares just for funnies i guess

He says that Elio's design is not memorable, and compares him to characters from Up, who is the most generic normal people, who looks this way for relatability sake, they're recognizable only because you've already seen this movie as a kid

If you draw Carl or Russell in a different art style you wouldn't recognize em i swear, while Elio, Mei, Luca have tons of distinct and unique features

You don't need to make character a dodecahedron to make him memorable, the design must correlate to its tone first, Elio rounded cuz he's friendly and inoffensive

If you relate more to Carl than to Elio or Luca or Mei well it's because you're old af, and just hate everything new

"But Pixar used to be about animals and objects n shit, now there are too many humans" first of all, most Pixar movies have big human focus in them, second Elio isn't just about the single human, there are wacky aliens, Luca has sea monsters, Turning Red has big effing red panda, are these not unique and memorable enough creatures?

I can cherry pick a bunch of old characters with Le Bean Mouth, but which is only bad now because a meme said so, and we all must hop on a trend made by a bunch of a-holes who have no idea what they're talking about and spread negativity about the movie they haven't even seen

[seaskate]

Little brothers

Tim Drake had always wanted siblings. It had always felt like such a foolish thing to think, to want, when he had been young, but the thought had still been there. He wanted someone to talk to, a voice other than his own to fill the rooms of an empty house. A hand to hold his own through storms, protecting each other from the loud thundering noises. Someone that understood and cared about whatever troubles he had then. Someone that he could vent to without them immediately thinking that they had to solve the problem, or purposefully twisting it so that it was his fault.

His mother made him feel selfish for wanting such a thing, after all Tim went to boarding school, what good would a sibling do him there.

He had still wanted one though, a want that was fulfilled much later.

Tim loved Dick, he loved having an older sibling. He loved Cass just as much when she came along. He loved having someone to care for him. Someone who's main objective in a dangerous situation was keep him safe, even if they all knew that he was more than capable of doing so on his own.

He still wanted a sibling though, even with all the ones he already had, he wanted a younger sibling. He wanted someone that he could teach things to, someone to protect. Someone that looked up at him.

He knew that this want was a different sort of selfish, but that didn’t stop him from wanting it still.

When Damian came along, he had been cautiously optimistic, only for the boy to see him as a threat the same as Jason had. But, where he and Jason had formed a sort of grudging respect for one another in that first fight, Damian gave him no such allowances.

Death threats and murder attempts, Tim honestly couldn't take them seriously, not in the way that Damian clearly seemed to think that he should. But the brat wasn't the only one in the family that was trained by the League, most of the bats had been in one manner or another and Tim was no exception to that rule. He had killed Lady Shiva once and faced down the Demon’s Head himself, Damian didn’t really register as a threat, and once he actively stopped trying to kill Tim and only gave verbal barbs, he didn't register much at all.

(There was no point in chasing someone that couldn't give less of a damn about you after all, and he had lost too many people to waste the time trying)

He had long resigned himself to being the youngest of his perceived version of the family, when Duke came along and changed that.

The kid was bright, not just his abilities or the costume that he wore, but his mind as well. He was intelligent and quick and a ruthless teen all at once.

Tim watched as he gravitated around the family like that of a moon, not quite joining it. Not with parents waiting for him once they came back to him. Tim knew what it felt like to have a parent laying in a bed, so close yet so far away, but he didn’t feel like he was the best person to speak to the kid about such a thing (not after the actions that he had taken when a hospital bed had soon turned into a coffin) he didn't think that the other would want to hear platitudes from him, so he kept the same space from Duke that he did from Damian, and from Jason back in his more violent years.

Duke didn’t seem to get that same message.

The kid was always stood by him when it came to galas, eyeing him with a keen sort of gaze as his posture shifted as if to mimic Tim’s own. The same sort of thing happened during hand to hand sparring down in the cave enough that Tim finally took notice of it.

"Why are you trying to copy me?" Tim asked, not unkindly, one day as he noticed the younger boy watching and trying to replicate some of the more subtle sorts of moves that Tim had learned during his time with the League with varying success.

Tim watched as some color came to the other's cheeks as he gave an answer that Tim never thought that he would hear.

"You were my Robin," he answers, "the one that most of us looked up to."

And Tim, he had never imagined being in a position like this. He knew that his tenure as Robin was longer than that of nearly everyone else other than Dick, but he had never thought that those younger than him would look to the sky, seeing him flying through it and look up to him the way that he had Jason and Dick.

His time as Robin had been so different from the start. He chose the position it wasn’t given to him, or created by him. He was there as a partner to the bat, not a son to Bruce. His hands were bloodied, where there's were clean. He was a lair and theif as Robin, picking those skills up instead of discarding them at the door. He was a part of the unwanted generation of heroes, Young Just Us.

He had never thought... and yet here they were.

Tim smiled then and reached for his bo staff, twisting it so that it came apart and turned into that of two stick that mirrored the ones that Duke used, twisting each once more so that blades came out the ends of both.

Duke's eyes went wide at the sight, not having known about either of the functions that he had just seen.

"If I'm your Robin then I ought to reach you these things myself, don’t you think?" The older boy asked, and Duke smiled at that.

It was through this that the pair were often found at one another’s sides when they were both in the manor. It was also through this that those in the family learned more about the teen then they ever had before, the third Robin giving up information willingly in the form of advice that no one else other than Duke ever seemed to get the full context for.

"If a metor ever crashes and you and a team go to check it out, never let a speedster stick their head inside of it. It will likely explode and make you think that your teammate is dead for a moment"

Dick’s eyes went wide as he overheard the words, but the pair were gone before he rounded the corner.

"If you ever see Santa die, don't worry it wasn’t your fault. The bastard will regenerate, and my team is already prepared to handle Christmas should it be too close to the day, though do call Constantine. He'll clean up the body for you," Tim said one day, lacing up his boots before moving towards the window that Kon was supposed to be appearing at to pick him for this very thing.

"Because Santa is supposed to be a mythical being?" Duke asked, handing over a spare distress signal.

Tim laughed at that. "Sure. And because he'll grind up the bones and snort them for magic stuff."

Jason backed away from the door as he heard that, there were some conversations that just weren’t worth making Alfred happy. His mind melting from this was one of them.

"If you see a future where you go evil, don't tell B. He'll add so many contingency plans to you that you'll be drowing in them."

Bruce raised a brow as he walked past the living room, stopping to think about when this might have been, before walking off deciding that they already had enough problems in this family.

The pair were at the Clocktower, Tim taking a moment to teach Duke some more advanced coding before his own patrol started and Duke spent the night shadowing Oracle, learning from her incase a day came when both Babs and Tim were unavailable.

"Okay, now add that code here... good. Now, if you are ever being held somewhere, like a League of Assassins base, or something of the like, and you can get to their computer system, put this code in."

"What will it do?" Duke asked as he finished typing in, saving the code onto a hard drive that Tim had forced him to bring.

"Start a three minute timer before exploding the servers and all connected ones."

Babs turned slowly to look at the pair as she heard that, suddenly having an answer to a question that she had never thought to direct to the older of the two boys sitting beside her.

Despite all the weird advice that they all heard the teen giving, most of the bats couldn't help but find it endearing the way in which the pair acted with one another. How truly like brothers they were. How their traits rubbed off on one another as Duke’s mannerisms began to more truly mirror Tim’s own, and Tim began acting closer to his own age once more, burdens that they would never known the identities of slipping away from his shoulder as he smiled more than he had in a while, curses falling from his lips as he fell off of his skateboard after trying a new trick.

It was one night when they were getting ready for patrol that the bats truly saw just how deep this connection seemed to go.

Everyone that had come to the Cave to get changed before patrol waa gathered, taking a moment to go through cases with one another to see if any of them crossed over each other's before they left. It was during this that Tim got a call, the ringtone not a familiar one to any but the man himself and the meta teen that had been down in the Cave for night time work out before bed.

Duke’s eyes flashed with recognition as Tim answered the call, moving to the locker room before talking. "Tell her I say hi," the younger teen called out, earning a thumbs up in response and the stares of the bats.

"You know who that is?" Steph asked, brow raised.

Duke shrugged, putting the weights back as he answered. "Its his friend Pru," the teen answered as if it meant nothing to say it.

"Drake is still talking to one of Grandfather’s assassins?" Damian asked, something a bit like panic slipping into his tone.

"She's chill," is all that the teen answers, sure and true and so trusting.

It was days like these that the youngest Robin found himself hit with unexpected jealousy towards the newest addition to the family. Because Timothy never was like that with his, always careful and watching as if waiting for a blade to come at him, even as one hadn’t in months. He hated that he had no one to blame for this relationship but himself.

Hated having to watch as Timothy came back and clapped the daytime vigilante on the shoulder with a fond sort of looking before moving to his bike, never looking Damian’s way once.

(Little brothers huh)

[Part two]