#it always makes me suspicious when she's at her best because i can never trust that it'll last and i know it won't

[d1anna]

seeing ur parent like actively working on their problems and their parenting is so hard bc u remember what they did to you and and now you're being confronted by their love in full and it's so so weird to accept

[melzula]

Could you write a Sokka x firebender reader that has the plot of the secret tunnel episode but instead of aang and katara getting stuck together it’s him and reader? :)

Don’t Let the Cave In Get You Down

a/n: got two requests for this sokka storyline and i was very excited to write it! i couldn’t find a way to seamlessly include the fire bending part of the request but i could definitely build on that in another piece. hope you enjoy <3

you met the Gaang when they were passing through a small trading village on the outskirts of the Earth Kingdom

they were low on supplies and in need of a shopping spree, so they stopped at your little food stand in search of fresh fruit and snacks for their travels

you seemed awfully young to have your own business, especially when compared to the other merchants, but you were kind and your prices were affordable

their shopping spree was cut short by the arrival of fire nation soldiers, but you quickly escorted them through the backstreets of the marketplace and helped them evade the soldiers

“That was a close call,” Aang breathed out in relief, “thanks for your help.”

“Those guys are jerks, I couldn’t live with myself if I had just let them capture you.”

“Who are you?” Katara asked in awe.

“My name is y/n, and I’ve been hiding out in this village for about three years now. I escaped from the Fire Nation when I was 12 and never looked back.”

“Wait a minute, Fire Nation?!” Sokka exclaimed before quickly pushing his sister and Aang behind him. Raising his boomerang in a threatening manor, he narrowed his eyes at you. “Is this some kind of trick?! Did you just lure us out here so you could capture Aang and get the reward for yourself?”

“Sokka, you’re being ridiculous!” Katara had scolded angrily, harshly pushing his boomerang away. “She said herself she came here to get away from the Fire Nation, I’m sure she’s just trying to make a better life for herself here and you’re not making that any easier for her by being a jerk!”

“I don’t trust her, Katara!”

You’re a little disheartened by the disdain in his voice when he speaks about you, and despite Katara vouching for you you can see that you’re out of place

“I’m sorry, I’ve made things awkward,” you apologized sheepishly, “I’ll leave you now.”

“Wait!” Aang called, stopping you from going. “If what you said is true then… then I think you should come with us.”

“Tell me you’re joking,” Sokka scoffed in disbelief

“If she’s from the Fire Nation then she must have knowledge about the ins and outs of that place. Maybe she can even help me find a fire bending master. We need her help, Sokka.”

Though he was reluctant and very distrusting of you, Sokka realized Aang was right, so he begrudgingly allowed the airbender to welcome you to their team

You agreed to help as much as you can, and the rest was history

From there on out you’re officially a member of Team Avatar, but that doesn’t mean Sokka becomes any more trusting of you

He always keeps a suspicious eye on you, never letting you help with tasks he deems too important to avoid having you “sabotage” the group

His lack of trust in you hurts, you can’t lie about that, but you continue to do what you can to aid the Avatar and his friends and earn their trust

Of course, this all changes when you get to the cave of two lovers

Unlike Sokka, you found Chong and his group of Nomads to be great fun. They’d braided your hair beautifully with flowers from the lake and performed wonderful songs, so despite your predicament you were in a cheerful mood

Being stuck in the cave had put a strain on your group’s mission to make it to Omashu, but you tried to remain hopeful and help as best as you can

Surprisingly, Sokka even puts you in charge of holding one of the torches

“I’m only giving this to you because I know you’re at least smart enough not to waste resources while we’re in here.”

It’s a start

And it’s a good thing he gave you that torch, because it comes in handy when you both end up getting separated from the rest of the group

“This is just great,” Sokka utters sarcastically after several failed attempts to dig through the rock and get back to the others.

“Come on, Sokka, lighten up. We have a torch and your map, I’m sure we’ll be able to figure something out,” you try to console. “What did Chong say earlier? ‘Don’t let the cave in get you down, Sokka.’”

He’s not amused by your singing

It’s a bit awkward being stuck with the boy who’s been so adamant that you don’t belong despite your best efforts to prove that you can be trusted

You don’t speak much and try to stay out of his way and follow his lead, but the tunnels keep changing and you keep getting lost and your torch is about to burn out, so things are beginning to seem hopeless

“Maybe we should try changing our strategy,” you offer only for Sokka to immediately dismiss you.

“Right, like I’m going to let you lead us through the cave. You’ll probably make us get lost on purpose.”

“You know, if you stopped being so judgmental for a second you’d probably realize that i want to get out of this cave just as much as you do!” You snap irritably, surprising Sokka. you’ve mostly stayed docile to try and keep the peace whenever Sokka accuses you of being untrustworthy, but at this point you’re finally starting to get fed up

“You’re right, I’m sorry,” he says softly, and this time you’re the one who’s surprised. You never thought he’d actually apologize to you, and it’s a nice feeling. “What do you suggest we do?”

“Well,” you start with a sigh, “maybe the story is right. Maybe if we trust in love, we’ll find our way out of here.”

“You’re joking, right?”

“Do you have any better ideas?”

You simply shrug, prompting Sokka to let out a heavy sigh. Your torch is going to run out soon, and his map isn’t doing anyone any favors. It seems you have no choice

“How exactly do we trust in love?”

“I’m not sure… the only love I know is the love I had from my parents, but I haven’t felt it in so long… I’m not sure I ever will again.”

“…What happened to them?”

“My parents were peasants with nothing but love to give each other. They were poor, but they were happy,” you explain with a faint smile. “My father was a fire bender, but he kept his gift hidden in fear he’d be forced to serve in the Fire Nation army. He didn’t want to leave me or my mother, but our home was attacked, and he had no choice but to bend to protect us. Our lives were saved, but he was taken away.”

Sokka hangs on to your every word, eyes glistening with unshed tears and sympathy. Your story is similar to his own, and he knows what it’s like to lose your family to the Fire Nation. He feels less disdain towards you now, more empathetic. He still isn’t 100% sure how to feel about you, but hearing your story makes you easier to understand now

“My mother knew I’d never be safe or happy if I stayed there, so she arranged for me to be smuggled out of the Fire Nation and brought to the trading village you first met me in. I haven’t seen or heard from her since, and I’m not even sure if she or my father are even alive.”

“I’m sorry,” Sokka utters solemnly. “Katara and I lost our mother to the Fire Nation, and we haven’t seen our father since he left to fight in the war. I know how you feel.”

“I don’t want to be Fire Nation, you know. None of this was a choice, and I understand why you don’t trust me but I’m not like them Sokka. Please believe me.”

“I’m sorry for always giving you such a hard time. It’s just… it’s hard to believe people from the Fire Nation can actually be good. But you’ve proven that you can be trusted over and over again, I was just too blind to see it.”

“Can we start over?” He asks with a sheepish smile, carefully sticking his hand out for you to shake. Instead, you push his hand away and throw your arms around him in a tight embrace.

The force of your hug knocks him back a bit, and though he’s unsure at first, he eventually returns your embrace by carefully wrapping his arms around your figure

The fire of your torch slowly begins to die, but neither of you seem to notice or care as you enjoy your moment together

You expect to be engulfed in darkness when the flame goes out, but instead you’re met with the beautiful shimmers of the crystals that line the roofs of the cave

“It’s so beautiful,” you murmur in awe, your eyes sparkling under the light

“Yeah,” your counterpart utters quietly, but he isn’t looking at the crystals

“Was she always this pretty?” Sokka wondered to himself

Together, you’re eventually able to follow the crystals and make your way out of the cave

And when you leave the cave, hands woven tightly together, you leave as two completely new people

You understand each other now, you trust each other

And your relationship will only continue to grow stronger from then on out

| atla tags: @sirkekselord @chronic-daydreamer @niktwazny303

[appocalipse]

MAKE IT EASY (part 2) : ̗̀➛ STEVE HARRINGTON

・❥・part 1・part 2・❥・3k words

Summary: steve asks you to pretend to be his girlfriend for a family dinner. the problem is: after all is said and done, he gives you the cold shoulder. have you done something wrong?

Steve has a problem.

No, scratch that. He created a problem for himself, actually, about a week ago. A big, confusing problem that he now has no idea how to solve, so naturally what he's doing is plan B, which is the next best thing: avoiding the problem until it somehow resolves itself.

You are Steve Harrington's problem.

You, with your disarming smile, your gratuitous kindness and your impossible-to-forget laugh. You had made his parents like you, for God's sake. If that's not proof enough that you have some kind of magic working behind your smile, Steve doesn't know what is.

Oh! And of course, there is that damn dress.

Steve lowers his head until his forehead rests on the counter and sighs. Ah, that dress. Steve probably shouldn't think about it, let alone what was beneath it, the warm skin he touched for just a few seconds…no. He shouldn't think about it if he wanted to keep his sanity intact. But apparently, he likes to torture himself.

Steve stays in this awkward position for all of five dramatic seconds until his spine hurts. He straightens up again, with another sigh.

"You should talk to her."

It's Robin (of course) giving her opinion (that no one asked, Steve thinks bitterly) as she walks past him with a stack of tapes in her hands.

"I should never talk to her again. In fact," he argues, speaking a little louder so Robin can hear him from the back of the store, "if you're really my friend, you should make sure that I don't talk to her for the rest of my life."

"Coward."

"Maybe I am."

Even from this distance, Steve is under the impression that he hears Robin sighing.

She walks so fast that he doesn't even register the sound of her footsteps until Robin is in front of him, on the other side of Family Video's front counter, looking at him the way a mother would look at a child throwing a tantrum.

"You are going to talk to her," says Robin, with the certainty of someone who says the sky is blue.

"No."

She smiles. Steve is certain he recognizes that smile. It's the one that scares him, the same that precedes the moment when Dustin or one of the other kids says something like "just trust me, I have an idea", and the idea usually involves a robbery, a murder or interdimensional travel. Sometimes, all three of them.

"Robin-"

She has her backpack on her back.

"End of my shift," Robin hums, suspiciously happy. She takes a step back which, Steve thinks, is quite prudent considering what she says next, "…which means, my dear Steve, that you are obligated to serve our customers. Any customer. Even if you don't want to speak to this specific customer, you'll have to-"

Steve leans over the counter — to do what exactly, he's not sure; strangle her, perhaps — but Robin, as always, is faster. She laughs, and before he can do anything other than practically beg her to stay, Robin is out the front door yelling I'm sorry! over her shoulder, even though Steve knows she's not sorry at all.

Less than ten minutes later, the bell above the door rings again, and Steve wouldn't even have to look to know it's you.

You enter the store and your steps are quick, hurried, a clear goal in your mind.

You stop in front of Steve, almost exactly where Robin had stood a few minutes ago, but the look in your eyes is completely different for more reasons than one.

Steve swallows hard. You had been here two other times this week, and both times Steve managed to somehow force Robin to distract you, acting as if he was too busy to see you. You had clearly decided to talk to her behind his back, because all this had definitely been an elaborate plan between the two of you so that Steve couldn't get away.

You get to the point, crossing your arms. "You are avoiding me."

You're not asking; you're telling him. You know. You noticed.

Well, of course you did. You're smart. Smarter than him for sure.

Steve can only hope you haven't found out about the reason why he's avoiding you these past few days. That would be hard to explain.

He clears his throat. It's like he's trying to breathe with a couple of birds inside his ribcage.

"I'm not avoiding you," he says, but he looks away so quickly he doubts you believe him. "I've just got a lot going on lately…" he trails off, racking his brain for an excuse that would make sense without revealing too much.

It isn't fair — you're the last person he wants to hurt, and yet it took some elaborate plan between you and Robin to get him to stand in front of you again.

Pathetic.

You don't seem impressed. In fact, you laugh before he's even finished speaking, but it's not your usual light, happy laugh; It's a low, wry chuckle that makes Steve feel instantly irritated, even though he knows he probably doesn't even have that right after everything.

He knows he hurt you. He knows. He never wanted that. But you…you have no idea how torturous that night, that dinner had been for him. So yes; he does get a little angry.

"You've got nothing new going on lately!" you retort, growing angry yourself. "You just- I don't know. Have I…done something wrong? Did I make your parents mad that night or something? Because all of a sudden-"

"No!" he snaps, the word coming out harsher than he intended, and definitely louder. His cheeks flush with anger, and then embarrassment, and suddenly Steve desperately wants to crawl into a hole somewhere.

He clears his throat.

"No, you didn't do anything wrong," he repeats, softer this time. "It's just…it's complicated."

"It's complicated?" you ask, and now you're all but yelling too. Great. "That's your excuse for flat out ignoring me for the past week?"

"I'm not ignoring you!" he protests, his voice a bit higher than usual.

The truth is: he has been avoiding you. Every time he sees you, he feels this strange pull towards you - a mix of attraction and annoyance that he can't quite figure out. And every time he talks to you, he worries that maybe he'll say too much, or worse yet, say nothing at all and you, with your annoyingly sharp mind, will read him like a book.

As if that wasn't enough, Steve thinks, tormented, you decide to walk around the counter to literally stand in front of him, nothing else between the two of you besides a couple of steps.

This proximity feels like a trap. Steve takes another step back and his hipbone hits the counter. Dear God.

"Yes, you are!" you argue, crossing your arms and taking a step forward almost without realizing it. "You asked me to pretend to be your girlfriend for one night so that your parents would leave you alone, and I did. I thought it was okay. But then you pretty much ran out of my house afterwards and refused all my attempts to talk to you ever since."

You sigh. You lift your chin and look up at him, and, alarmed, Steve notices that your eyes are a little red, as if you're holding yourself back from crying.

He's making you cry?

Shit. The last thing he wants in the world is to make you cry.

"Tell me what I did wrong," you say, and the sudden softness of your voice catches Steve off-guard. "You owe me at least that, don't you? If seeing me is such a problem for you, just..tell me what I did wrong and I'll leave you alone. I'll go…clearly that's what you want."

"No, that's not what I want," he says quickly, stepping closer to you before his mind can catch up on his intentions. "Look, I'm sorry. I just…I don't know how to handle this."

He runs a hand through his tousled hair, and you probably notice the desperation in his tone, because you just stand there, looking at him. Waiting, he realizes. You don't move.

Then you ask, sounding so innocently confused that Steve almost feels like screaming:

"How to handle…what?"

It's not possible, he thinks. There's no way you didn't notice. You would have to be blind, deaf and…well, maybe not even then. Steve had thought things had gotten pretty clear the week before, at your place, when you had asked him to unzip your damn dress and he had gotten so carried away he almost kissed you and…

Well.

"You," he answers immediately, looking you square in the eye with all the genuine honesty he still has the capacity for. "I don't know how to handle the fact that I…" Steve swallows.

"That you..?" you encourage, taking a tentative step closer.

"Do you really want to know?" he asks, not moving an inch.

"Yes."

Steve's heart skips a beat, a beat that could very well be his last. "Look-"

"Tell me."

"I think you already know."

"I don't."

"Oh, come on," Steve says, his voice cracking as he lets out a humourless chuckle. "You can't tell me you didn't notice the way I looked at you last week. I mean, Jesus, I asked you to pretend to be my girlfriend for dinner with my parents, and then I almost…"

He trails off.

And there it is; that funny feeling inside your chest, that warmth you can't even begin to explain.

"You almost what?"

He chuckles again. "Why do you think I left like that?"

"I honestly have no fucking idea, Steve."

"You asked me to unzip your dress."

"And?"

Steve looks at you like you'd just grown an extra limb.

"You can't be serious."

"Okay, fine, I'm sorry I asked you to do that, but I didn't mean to make you, uh…uncomfortable. You could have said no if-"

"That's not it." Steve cuts you off, frustrated because God help him, you don't get it. You still, somehow, don't get it. He doesn't know whether to laugh or to cry.

So what he does instead is turn around, placing his hands on the counter, his back turned to you so that he can think clearly for a moment without being distracted by the way you're looking at him.

But you…oh, you never let things go, do you?

"What is it then, Steve, huh?" you ask, shortening the distance between the two of you by half. You know the answer, or at least a part of you does. But the other part, the part that's stubborn and insecure and tired…wants to hear him say it. Needs to hear him say it. "What is it? Because it feels like you just want to hurt me. You asked me to pretend to be your girlfriend for one night, but it didn't feel like we were…"

Pretending. Is that what you were going to say?

You stop speaking abruptly, eyes wide as if the words had come out of your mouth on their own. Judging by how angry you sounded, Steve thinks that's exactly what happened.

"Then you just…decided to ignore me."

For one moment, the only thing between you two is the silence.

"I didn't do that to hurt you," his voice is a whisper.

"Then what the fuck were you trying to do, Steve?"

"Get over you!"

"I...what?"

It feels like you're taunting him at this point.

"What, not what you expected?" He says, voice tight as he turns around to face you again, a bitter laugh trapped inside his throat. "C'mon, are you that oblivious?" 

He's getting closer to you as he speaks now, voice growing more intense, more desperate; but you don't back away, he notices. You don't move, don't push him away. All you do is look up at him with those pretty eyes of yours, waiting, searching for something in his expression. 

"I-I fucked up, okay? I told you it was just play pretend but the truth is…I didn't have to pretend one bit," he confesses, eyes finding yours, and immediately that anger — or whatever it was — dissipates, his tone softening as a small smile tugs at the corners of his lips. "I should have known that having you for one night, even if it was just pretend, would just make it that much worse. That's why I tried to avoid you. To get over you…and clearly that didn't work."

There's so much you want to say that you feel like you're choking on your own words. "I don't- you, I mean-"

"No, it's alright, just…" He looks down at the ground, then steps back again with a small, empty chuckle. "Go ahead and reject me. Make it easy for me."

"I-what? Reject you?" If a demogorgon suddenly showed up and swallowed your left leg whole, you're pretty sure you would have been less taken aback.

"I know it's not what you want to hear. It's not how I wanted things to go either. But I'm trying to be honest here," he says, taking another step back, feeling more and more exposed with every stupid word that comes out of his mouth. "I care about you. And I know that if I don't get over this, it's going to ruin everything. So, please, just-"

"Oh my God, you are so stupid!"

Your tone of voice changed completely. Steve lifts his head to look at you, and to his complete and utter confusion, you're laughing.

Laughing.

For a terrible moment, the thought that you're laughing at him crosses his mind, but then…

You hug him. You hug him so tightly, in fact, that Steve is pushed back a step or two, and suddenly he's pressed up against the counter once again.

“You didn’t kiss me,” you murmur, your arms wrapped tightly around his waist, your cheek pressed against his chest. 

He takes a deep breath, inhaling the scent of your hair and feeling the soft cotton of your shirt under his fingers. He can feel the warmth of your body against his. It's almost painful, how good it feels to be this close to you. 

He wonders if he heard it wrong.

No — he certainly heard it wrong. He's hallucinating. Must be.

"Wait, I…what?"

You don't move an inch, but Steve feels as you take a deep breath against his shirt. He wishes he could see your face. 

"That night," you explain, finally looking up at him. You look more flustered than he's ever seen you. Closing one of your hands into a fist, you hit Steve's chest without any real force. "I thought you were going to kiss me, but then you just ran off without saying anything. How was I supposed to guess that you actually liked me, Steve Harrington?"

He almost chuckles. Steve feels like his heart is in his throat, he can't believe what he's hearing. You like him? You, the girl he's been crushing on for what feels like forever, actually like him? 

It's too much to process. He tries to form a response, but all that comes out is a strangled sound that's somewhere between a laugh and a sob.

So instead of trying to use any stupid words, he reaches out and cups your face in his hands, feeling the warmth of your skin against his. He leans down slowly, his heart pounding in his chest, and finally, finally, when you don't move away…he brushes his lips against yours. 

It's just a soft, tentative touch, but it's enough to make him forget about everything else. 

Steve pulls back then, waiting for you to pull away, to tell him no…but you don't. You close your eyes and lean into him, opening your mouth a little more against his, inviting him in. He takes the invitation, pressing his lips against yours again, more firmly this time, feeling your soft, warm tongue slide against his. He presses harder, deepening the kiss, feeling your hands curl into his shirt as he pulls you even closer.

You feel dizzy, light-headed, and utterly, perfectly lost in this moment. 

Your hands cling to his shoulders, fingers digging into the muscles there as you, too, attempt to pull him closer, as close as possible…and then, the bell above the front door rings, announcing that someone just entered the store.

Fuck. 

Steve groans as you pull back immediately.

It's just a customer, an older man with a newspaper under his arm, looking around curiously. Steve knows it's not his fault, but he doesn't think he's ever hated anyone quite so strongly.

He looks down at you and it's a mistake; you look so beautiful with your cheeks flushed, lips swollen from the kiss, a soft, embarrassed smile on your mouth. Steve doesn't know what to say, he's not even sure he knows how to find his voice right now, so one of his hands finds its way up to cup your cheek again, fingers curling gently while the man walks around the store looking for God knows what.

Steve feels like he's on cloud nine. He wants nothing more than to lose himself in you again, and to hell with Family Video's customers. But you, on the other hand…

You grin. "You should probably-"

"Don't go anywhere," Steve tells you with a grin of his own. "I'll be right back."

Apparently, he wasn't aware that he wouldn't be able to get rid of you if he tried.

tags (i hope i haven't forgotten anyone, sorry!): @siriuslysmoking @sebastiansstanswhore @sorchateas @boomitsallie1 @vivzzi @mel119g @skrzydlak

my masterlist | buy me a coffee

[princessbrunette]

I don't know if you had already answered this on your blog, but I was wondering would any of the girls be friends? Like I'm talking kitty, puppy, deer, lamb, and bunny. In my head I always pictured Kitty and Puppy being best friends and Bunny being more of an outsider because she's with Rafe.

this is interesting !! let me dissect all of ‘em <3

bunny:

you’re right — no one really wants to be friends with the poor girl because she’s rafe’s ride or die, and well — who trusts rafe? on first glance, they all would assume she’s just as wicked and evil as her boyfriend, but it would only take one interaction with her to know she’s not at all. i think with all the girls, their view on bunny shifts from being suspicious, to being pitying very quickly. whilst i don’t think they’d even get close enough to be friends, the general consensus of her would be “shes so sweet, idk what she sees in rafe.” or “we need to get her out of there!”

if she’s gonna make an unlikely companionship with anyone, it would be a universe where lamb!reader is dating one of the pogues. her and lamb come from similar kooky upbringings, and their complete opposite ways of presenting themselves would make for an interesting and hilarious dynamic. bunny teaches lamb about all the girl things she’d been deprived of, and lamb applies biblical meaning to bunny’s life lessons. she also thinks rafe is the devil but that’s a story for another day.

kitty:

whilst kitty and puppy would be a funny dynamic — and it works, as traditionally pup is with john b and kitty is with jj, my favourite friendship pairing might have to be kitty and deer. kitty feels less responsible for deer like she might with puppy, and as they both have super niche interests and ways of being, they’d have a lot to talk about.

my favourite thing about their dynamic would be the way they handle confronting situations. they’re both big people watchers, often silently floating around, wide eyed and unnervingly observant — however when the attention is drawn to them in a negative light, deer is quick to flee — upset and terrified of confrontation, whereas kitty will stay, tense up and run her mouth protectively of herself and her friend. she may be quiet but she can be lethal when provoked.

puppy:

puppy would get along with anyone, as she’s super friendly and sociable. in the most versatile way, she adapts to the needs of her friend — meaning if she’s hanging out with deer, she knows she’ll be doing a lot of the yapping whilst deer listens and observes before giving advice or an opinion. with kitty, it’s a yap off, the two of them always having alot to say. i can’t really see pup and mouse crossing paths, and i don’t think lamb would particularly take to her.

i am aware i said bunny wouldn’t be around many other readers, but other than lamb, if anyone will break through it’s pup. she and bun have the same energetic, sexually charged ditsy ways, so i think around eachother they’d be able to unapologetically be themselves and treat the world as their playground. their friendship would be less about sitting and talking and more about running around getting into chaos and spending money on rafes card. in another world they’re f4f gfs.

mouse:

i’ve spoken of this many times, but an underrated yet unstoppable duo is mouse and kitty. they enable eachother in the worst ways, mouse teaching kitty how to not get caught when shop lifting, kitty teaching mouse how to fuck, smoke cigs and mouth off (shes too shy to do the last, and lets kitty fight many of her battles)

they spend alot of time together, perhaps to the point of being completely codependent, never seen without the other. kitty was even there the first time mouse had sex, holding her hand. they bicker, but it’s because they care about eachother.

[pretty-little-mind33]

Dave Lizewski x fem!reader

Summary: Being partners with Kick-Ass is far more intimidating when you have a huge crush on him, especially when he won't stop talking about his crush.

Prompt: hurt and comfort - "I'm so sick of pretending like everything is okay."

here you go, my darling @lavieenvalentina! ily! seeing you in my notifs always makes me so happy!

DAVE LIZEWSKI MASTERLIST

BLURB MASTERLIST

The night is humid and hot and nothing seems to be going your way. 

First, your costume had shrunk in the laundry making the middle feel three sizes too small. Second, it had been drizzling outside and now your hair is frizzy, and third—your partner, Kick-Ass, has been going on and on about this girl Katie from his high school. 

You know Katie. You've deduced you go to the same school. She's all sugary sweet on the outside, but she's been casually teasing you since middle school, which is something you can't exactly tell him considering your identity must remain a secret. 

It doesn't help that you don't know who Kick-Ass is either. Hell, he could be one of the stupid popular jocks for all you know and then you'd so feel silly.

"And her hair is so silky and smooth, I wonder how she—" Kick-Ass continues as you walk, grinning like an idiot. You don't know how much longer you can take this agony, but you try and listen to him anyway.

"You okay?" he asks after more rambling because he can now sense you aren't listening. 

You pause, stopping at a crossroads and then you turn to him. "I should go home, there isn't any crime happening," you say, needing some time alone and away from him. 

"Did I say something wrong?" he asks, his voice low and hoarse. It's the tone that makes your cheeks feel warm and your heart flutters uncontrollably. Behind his mask, his bright blue eyes shine and he's looking at you like some poor puppy who can't understand why his owner won't give him a bone. 

"Don't look at me like that," you say, taking his arm and pulling him into a small alley. 

"Like what?" he sounds genuinely confused as he leans against the brick wall. 

"Like a damn wounded puppy!" you exclaim, throwing up your arms in exasperation, "As if I've kicked you or something stupid. Why do you always have to act like the one who's hurt when all you do is hurt me?!"

The words tumble from your lips.

"I hurt you?" he whispers, his concerned expression obvious even with almost his entire face covered. "How? I thought we were friends. You're the best damn friend I've ever had."

"You don't know me," you interrupt him and fiddle with the latex of your glove, "not really." 

"Well, I could know you," Kick-Ass says, sounding very determined. "You're the one who doesn't want to know me. I've told you a thousand times you can trust me. I've even told you my name."

Your eyes widen at this revelation. "What? When?"

"The first week we met, you never told me yours but whatever," he shakes his head and then outstretches his hand, "Here, I don't mind. I trust you. My name is Dave," he says casually.

You suddenly click all the pieces in your head and your smile drops.

"Dave Lizewski?" you whisper, suddenly recognizing his voice. Of course, how could you not have recognized him? You sit next to Dave in Pre-Calculus every single day. Dave hangs around with Katie all the time. You look him up and down.

His eyebrows crease. "How did you know that?" he asks suspiciously.

You think, screw this, and untie your mask from behind your head, letting it drop into your hands. You look up, almost afraid of his reaction.

Dave's eyes widen and he stutters out your name, the syllables stuck in his throat as he processes that it's you.

He didn't consider you a friend at school, but you always helped him in Pre-Calculus when you could so he liked you. Plus, you're gorgeous and he can't deny that before Katie Deauxma, he'd thought of you in inappropriate ways—sometimes he still does.

His cheeks burn bright red. 

"It's you," is all he can muster.

You shrug and look away from him. "This is so stupid," you say and then turn to him again, "We're so stupid for not knowing. I mean, we talk all the time."

Dave pulls off his mask. Luckily no one is walking around this dinghy alley to see you both. Your breath catches in your throat at seeing Dave, his hair messy and stuck to his skin, his glasses abandoned and dressed in his Kick-Ass suit. 

You start to laugh. You aren't laughing at him but at this absurd situation. 

Dave doesn't take it like that and he scrunches up his nose. "Are you laughing at me?"

You shake your head and look at him seriously. "No, I'm laughing because if I had known waking up today that the boy I have a crush on was none other than Dave Lizewski from Pre-Calculus—I think I would have pinched myself."

Your words sink and Dave's eyes widen until he looks almost scared. "What?"

"You know Katie thinks you're gay. That's the only reason she's your friend," you interrupt. You feel the need to tell him, like jealousy and pure venom is slipping from your mouth. Is it mean? A little, but you think it's time someone should burst his bubble.

Dave frowns, your previous statement slipping his mind momentarily. "I know that," he tells you, defensive. 

"Then why on earth do you have to go on and on about her all the time?"

"Sorry, I didn't realize I was inconveniencing you, Y/n," he snaps without hesitation, crossing his arms.

"Well, you are," you snap back, glaring at him and looking at him like this, knowing who he is, makes this a thousand times harder.

If Kick-Ass did turn out to be a stupid, meat-head, jock then this would be so much easier. Only he isn't. He's Dave Lizewski  and Dave is sweet and he's funny and he's brave and—

"I'm so sick of pretending like everything is okay," you blurt out and bury your face in your hands. 

Dave is quiet for a moment until he walks closer and pulls your hands down so he can look at you. "Okay, listen, can we please rewind for a second?" he asks, "y-you said you have a crush on me."

You shake your head and warmth spreads across your cheeks. 

"You did," Dave insists. 

"Doesn't matter, it's stupid."

"It does matter," he says and his hands cup your cheeks, hair falling and tickling his wrists as his mask hangs from his hand. "It matters because you're lovely and kind and I really like you." 

"Not the way I like you," you counter, "you like Katie Deauxma." 

Dave winces and he can't argue. His feelings don't just magically disappear, although he can admit that for some reason—after seeing you in this light—something inside him shifted. Something he can't explain right now.

"Y/n, you don't know me either," he tells you honestly, "you may know Kick-Ass a little, and you may like him, but you don't like Dave."

Not yet, you want to finish but you don't. You keep your mouth shut. He has a point.

"Just don't talk about her anymore, will you?"

Dave smiles a little, nodding his head. "Okay. Promise," he looks into your eyes, his gaze flickering to your lips. 

He has a really strong feeling he won't need to talk about Katie anymore. 

tags: @earth-elemental18

[loseractivities]

Ok time to yap about Billy Loomis. What is bros sexuality?

Billy is 100% gay. I also think that he’s on the aromantic/asexual spectrum, with the best label fitting him being demiaroace. In simple terms, I think the only way he feels authentic romantic/sexual attraction is when he has a very deep emotional, (whether he likes to admit that or not), bond with someone.

People often like to bring up his romantic relationship with Sidney and his sexual affairs with other women, one of which we have proof of in the later movies. Because he was dating Sidney before his mom even left, and they were known to have started off “hot and heavy”, (as Billy likes to call it), he didn’t really have any reason to be doing that. Or did he?!

It goes without being said that Billy is a conventionally attractive white male in the ‘90s. In the movie, we already see Billy’s efforts to appear as normal as possible, wearing bland clothes with little room for interpretation and speaking very little to others. Which leads to why Billyboy was sleeping with girls when he was a big fat QUEER!! …

Billy loves control! He loves it, he loves planning everything out and acting it out like it’s a movie because of his dumb special interest. He loves predictability, he loves feeling normal, and he loves having control over people. What better way to feel in control, (perhaps of his own sexuality), than by sleeping with and casually dating girls!! It makes so much sense.

How does Stu play into this?

Well firstly Stu is Billy’s only real friend. Through subtext we can tell that Billy trusts Stu a lot, considering he trusted him to 1. Call Sidney while he was in jail. 2. Be ghostface with him and have him not tell anyone. 3. Literally fucking stab him… The list goes on. People like to say that Stu didn’t know Billy’s real motive too, which is fucking stupid because why wouldn’t Billy tell him this?? One entire year between murdering Sidney’s mother and then eventually attempting to murder her and all her friends, and you’re telling me Stu wouldn’t have suspected a thing? Just for fun?? Yeah right!

Also people try to say “okay, well then why did Billy stab him so much in the kitchen if he wasn’t trying to kill him”? Firstly it was always part of the plan for Stu and Billy to be the only survivors because only one survivor is extremely suspicious. Secondly you can tell he was just not thinking clearly, he acted on his anger and lost focus of his goal (KILLING SIDNEY??NOT HIS BF??) which is something he NEVER DOES!!

Man,, the whole final act is my favorite, because it really shows both Billy and Stu coming apart and quite literally COMING OUT as the killers. Come on guys. Media. Fucking. Literacy. They literally penetrate each other right in front of Billy’s girlfriend, and that shit was freaky as fuck.

ANYway I’m going off on a tangent. I do wanna talk about why Billy didn’t explicitly say anything about being gay when he so very obviously is. Billy, in all areas, is much less obvious than Stu.

He’s closed off, secretive, keeps up a pretty believable facade to everyone until the finally is able to drop the act. It makes sense he isn’t as physically or verbally affectionate with Stu, and for this reason people are more inclined to believe Stu is gay and in love with Billy more than Billy is gay and in love with him. Well, in order to get a good sense of Billy’s relationship with Stu, you have to look deeper. Let’s start with some things from the script, since there are very few scenes with the two interacting.

Stu and Billy, in the script, are best friends, have known each other since kindergarten, and are partners in crime. Billy obviously is capable of forming strong bonds and connections with very specific people. Even unhealthily so, and we see this in the relationship he has with his mother. He idolizes her, victimizes her, makes her more than she was as a coping mechanism and never officially comes to terms with the fact his mom probably wasn’t as great as he remembers. And when his mom leaves, he breaks, needs control (as stated previously) because his life is suddenly unstable and who does he turn to? Stu!

Also I just wanna say when Stu drapes over his back Billy leans into him okay thanks. Body language in this movie means SO FUCKING MUCH TO ME these actors did amazing. When Billy follows Sidney inside the look of CONTEMPT ON HIS FACE!! The way he looks through his eyelashes. The acting is impeccable Skeety, I love you!!!! 😐😐 Also the way Billy looks at Stu before stabbing himmm…He;s in love I promise. In whatever way he knows how

Lastly the boy has autism

Passionate interests, he loves horror movies and constantly references them throughout the film. Even at unconventional times, like when his girlfriend is venting about her dead mother. Eye contact and too much staring. Meltdowns when overstimulated. The whole last act was just him stimming and destroying shit because stuff didn’t go his way. Bad reactions when plans are interrupted. At the staircase when Sid runs away he punches himself in frustration. Talks with hands in Sidney’s room about The Exorcist. Favorite person/people (his mom and Stu). Extremely overdramatic. When he got fake stabbed. When he falls down the fucking stairs for no reason. Finally, just socially awkward. Any word out of his mouth makes people uneasy. Ez

…Finally for Billy I js wanna say he arches it a lot and I think only someone who takes it like a good boy wpu;ld do that Ok im done by.e

LIKE AND SUBSCRIBE FOR MORE BANGERS LIKE THIS ONE

[blushweddinggowns]

When Nancy’s mom pulled her aside one day to ask her a favor, she never thought that it would involve tutoring the Steve Harrington. The basketball starter that had nearly every girl in their high school wrapped around his finger. 

And sure, Mrs. Harrington was offering some really good pay, but that didn’t mean she wanted to do it. Because Steve was…a lot. He was cocky, he was weirdly aggressive when it came to his drug dealer best friend, and if his grades and lack of self-control were anything to go by, he was also dumb as hell. 

Just because he was the hottest guy in school didn’t mean she wanted anything to do with him. But her mom didn’t really give her a choice, not when she had been vying for Mrs. Harrington’s friendship for years.

And that’s how she found herself on the Harrington doorstep on a Sunday, dreading how tedious trying to make someone with no attention span learn was going to be. She rang the doorbell, impatient for the whole thing to just be done with already. 

She was surprised when it was Eddie Munson who answered the door, clad in nothing but boxers and a t-shirt that Nancy was pretty sure belonged to Steve, unless he had been a secret swimming champion in 1982. For a split second she thought she was at the wrong house, until she remembered that Eddie was supposed to be living in a trailer park. 

He ran a hand through his messy hair, not even the slightest bit embarrassed to be caught without pants on at someone else’s house, “Uh, can I help you?”

“I’m here for Steve? Um, I’m his tutor? Nancy Wheeler?” She wasn’t sure why she said her own name like it was a question, but the way Eddie was staring her down had her uncharastically nervous. 

But his eyes brightened at the word tutor. He stepped aside to let her in, “Oh yeah! He told me that was today, I guess we just lost track of time. Wait here. I’ll go get him. You want a muffin? I literally just made them, unless you're allergic to chocolate? But if you’re not they’re like, really good, my uncle’s recipe so you can trust it.”

He was talking a mile a minute as he led her into the house, happy in a way she never would have expected from him. In school he was so…defensive. Always willing to cut down anyone who made a comment about his weird sense of style. And there was also the little known fact that he sold freaking ketamine in the woods behind school with a small history of violence and theft. She kind of thought that the drug dealer whose wardrobe half consisted of skulls wouldn’t be the type of guy to bake muffins. 

But that didn’t mean she didn’t want one. 

“Um, sure?” She said, jumping a little when Eddie suddenly tossed one her way. 

Before she could even say thank you he was two-stepping his way up the stairs, whistling a tune that Nancy couldn’t help but smile at. If Eddie Munson could be so nice, then the odds of Steve turning out to not be a total dick were looking pretty good.

She could hear him slam a door open upstairs, voice loud and obnoxious, “Time to wake up sunshine! You got some learning to do!”

Nancy wandered over to the stairs as she ate, happily surprised at just how good it was. She couldn't hear much else, just a few groans and some shuffling, then something that sounded suspiciously like a giggle before the two of them made their way back downstairs. 

Steve was just as disheveled as Eddie was, hair a mess as he blearily blinked into the light, like it wasn’t already noon. He at least had the decency to put on pants though, something that Eddie had decided was superfluous. 

He waved at her as they came down, at least apologetic, “Hi, I’m Steve. Sorry about that. I was up late last night doing- I mean watching movies. Kind of let the day get away from me a little bit.”

He put out his hand for Nancy to shake and she couldn’t help but notice just how big they were. She took it, suddenly a little flustered as she spoke, “Nancy. And we’ve uh, actually met before. Believe it or not.”

Steve blinked at her, mind obviously racing to try and figure out when he’d seen her before, “Please don’t tell me we used to date.”

“No we didn’t but- wait. You don’t remember all the girls you’ve dated?” Nancy raised a brow at him, suddenly a lot less impressed. Just how big of a player was this guy?

But at least he had the good grace to look embarrassed, “I-well, it’s not like that. I-”

Eddie put a hand on his shoulder, stopping him in the midst of his stuttering sentence, “Stevie, stop while you're ahead. Now go get some food so your brain can actually function.”

Surprisingly, Steve obeyed, just like that. He just nodded and puttered into the kitchen, leaving Eddie and Nancy to follow him. 

Eddie leaned over, stage-whispering in her ear, “He’s usually a lot more charming after he’s been conscious for more than 5 minutes. I swear.”

They rounded the corner, just in time to see Steve eat half a muffin in one bite. He moaned at the taste of it, and Nancy was suddenly blushing for the second time in one day. 

He smiled at Eddie, hearts in his eyes, “How are you so good at everything?”

Nancy was starting to understand why her mom always said the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach. If she didn’t know any better she’d say that Steve was seconds away from asking Eddie to ride into the sunset together. 

Eddie shrugged, even though his face was positively pleased. Steve finished the rest of it with a dreamy sigh, eyes still locked on Eddie.

“God, I love-” Steve coughed mid sentence, and for a second Nancy was sincerely worried that he had managed to choke on a piece of muffin. But the next moment he was fine, glancing over at her before straightening, “Uh, when my parents are gone. You can eat anything you want. Thanks for making them dude.”

Eddie snorted, barely managing to keep his laughter inside, “No problem, dude. But now that you're functioning I’ll let you guys get to it. I’ll be in the living room if you need me.”

Nancy wasn’t sure just what they would need him for, but Steve nodded anyway. It was almost weird, just how comfortable Eddie was in his house. She had half expected him to leave after he dragged Steve downstairs, especially since it was a school night, but the way he sprawled himself out on the couch said otherwise. 

They set themselves up at the kitchen table, Nancy with their biology book in hand and Steve with a second muffin. She cracked her book open, internally preparing herself for an afternoon of frustration. So imagine her surprise when none came. 

Because Steve Harrington was nothing like she expected. He wasn’t some undiscovered genius or anything, but he was diligent. He didn’t try to make a move on her, which her friends had definitely warned her about when they first heard she was tutoring him. He never got mad when he didn’t understand something, or even impatient. If anything he was just apologetic, a constant barrage of I’m sorry coming out of his mouth whenever he got something wrong that she already explained.

It was endearing to say the least. He even offered to drive her home after. She hadn’t realized that the offer included Eddie poking at him from the back seat and complaining about the music the whole ride home, but still. It was a nice gesture. 

When her mom asked her how it went she didn’t even have to lie. It went great. Not even on the whole he wasn’t a dick side of things. He was making ground when it came to his schoolwork, he just needed a little bit of extra attention. 

She found herself laying in bed that night with a smile on her face, more than excited to see Steve again. Maybe they’d even manage to get a little alone time, just so she could get to know him a bit better.

For strictly tutoring reasons, of course. 

~

Part 1.5 Part 2 Part 3

From an unpublished chapter of this fic (But I'll probably add part two and the reveal here because it kind of works with tumblr formatting!)

[mj0702]

Here's something for you @tasha95 ... as usual I got carried away 😅😅

There was something calm in the Bronze-Batlle household this afternoon. Lucy was out for some charity work and Ona agreed to keep an eye on you and you got a VERY strong “briefing” from Lucy to behave for Ona and if you acted out Lucy would take it upon herself to make you pay for it. So you did your best to be as quiet as possible which caused Ona to grow suspicious of your behaviour – every time she came into the room you basically scrambled to get out of said room.

“Okay... what is going on with you today” Ona cut your exit so you ran straight into her

“Nothing” you mumbled quickly trying to push past her

“Bebita... I thought we came to the agreement that we wouldn’t lie to each other... so...” the spaniard raised her eyebrow

“Lucy said I have to stay outta your way and not cause trouble” you mumbled not meeting the spaniards eyes

“Oh Bebita... I know you like to do your own thing and IF Mapí would be here I would agree... BUT... you are always so good for me... you don’t cause trouble with me...” Ona said softly “... don’t run away from me”

“I’m... not running...” you said defiantly

“Bebita...” the spaniard sighed

“I’m just doing what Lucy said” you took a step back from your sisters girlfriend

“Since when?” Ona snorted “Come here... I need some help with my Mandonguilles amb sípia...”

“What’s that?” you perked up always wanting to learn new things

“It’s a Catalonian dish... basically meatballs in gravy” Ona smiled seeing your instant mood change

“Huh... and here I was thinking all you guys eat is fish...” you said skipping past Ona into the kitchen happily “OH EW!!!! ONA!!!”

“Ah... I may have forgotten to mention there’s cuttlefish in it as well” the spaniard sing songed after hearing your disgusted outburst

“Why???” you whined and before you could run off again Ona trapped you between the counter and herself

“It’s traditional...” Ona smiled looking over your shoulder “... you do the meatballs... I’ll prepare the cuttlefish... deal?”

“Yeah deal...” you grumbled quickly retreating to the other end of the kitchen as far away from the offending cuttlefish

“It’s just Fish Bebita” Ona laughed at how quickly you moved away

“It LOOKS at me!!!!” you exclaimed

“Oh you little drama queen” the blonde laughed

“It’s a fact.... it has eyes... it looks at you like Mona Lisa... like it wants to eat your soul” you pointed at the little squids

“Get started on these meatballs..” Ona laughed before starting to expertly starting to clean the cuttlefish

“And now?” you asked 30 minutes later after Ona cleaned the kitchen as good as possible

“Now all is we need to do is fry everything, throw it together and serve” Ona said “... but we’ll do that later when Lucy is back”

“Oh okay” you said a little sad

“What’s wrong Bebita?” the blonde asked carefully

“Can we cook some more?” you asked a little embarrassed

“You like cooking huh?” Ona smiled while pulling out a cookbook

“Lucy always says it’s essential to understand a culture” you shrugged your shoulders

“That’s true... but I think you have a little different reason... you like to cook... you like to create... you are a very creative person and you have a very open and vivid mind” the blonde said the smile never leaving her face “Here... that’s my mamás and abuelas cookbook ... look if you find something you would like to try”

“It’s all in spanish” you whined after you excitedly opened the old looking book

“It’s catalan... I thought you knew the difference by now” Ona deadpanned

“Just because I can talk a little catalan doesn’t mean I can read it” you rolled your eyes

“Come on then... I’ll teach you” the blonde said and pulled you into the living room

“What’s that...” you pointed at a new recipe

“Cargols a la llauna?” Ona grinned “You won’t like it... trust me Bebita”

“But what is it??” you whined getting overwhelmed with all the exciting dishes the country has to offer

“Snails” the blonde spaniard smirked

“Oh you disgusting bastards!!!!!” you exclaimed heaving already

“It’s very traditional... and very tasty if prepared properly” Ona said laughing as she pulled you into her side where you immediately relaxed and sagged against her

“Are you tired Bebita?” Ona asked softly when she felt you getting heavy against her side

“Little bit” you mumbled your eyes already half closed

“Lay down Pequeña” the blonde said her voice low and soft guiding you down so your head was in her lap

You let her do it but whined as soon as you were laying down

“Quin és el problema Bebita?” Ona asked keeping her voice calm

“No cómode” you grumbled trying to get more comfortable

“Want me to lay down with you Bebita?” Ona asked carefully

“sí” you whined and the blonde spaniard maneuvered you around until you were in her arms your back pressed against her front “you comfy” you sighed happily

“Gracias Bebita” Ona chuckled

“Ona?” you mumbled

“sí?” the blonde answered

“I know you don’t know English as well... but the guy who tattooed the “Continue” onto your arm... he ripped you off... or he had dysgraphia..” you mumbled

“Dyswhat?” Ona asked confused

“Dysgraphia... he had problems writing...” you slurred already halfway into dreamland

“He didn’t Bebita... it’s what I wanted” the blonde whispered not wanting to wake you up again

“He turned the i over...” you sighed as Ona started to lightly scratch your head

“It’s a semicolon Pequeña...” Ona said “It has a meaning”

“Whatmeaning” you slurred your breathing evening out

“The semicolon has been a symbol for suicide and mental health awareness, which Project Semicolon initially started. You can get a semicolon tattoo to remind yourself that you’re stronger than anxiety or depression or it can be in memory or support of a friend or loved one...” Ona explained

(I personally thank Tasha for the explanation ♥️♥️)

“You want to end your life too?” you were slightly more awake immediately

“No Bebita... but I struggled with Anxiety when I first came to England” the spaniard answered honestly

“But why??? We’re very friendly” you were awake now

“Not really... English people are very reserved... not as bad as Norwegians but pretty close...” Ona chuckled “... we Spaniards are... different”

“All you don’t know the term personal space... the worst one was Hermoso” you pointed out

“Jenni is... a different level of spanish” the blonde laughed “... but I struggled with the new culture and worse the language barrier...”

“I can see that...” you mumbled deep in thought trying to imagine how baby Ona must have felt

“You really don’t remember do you?” Ona asked

“Remember what?” you asked confused

“You shoulder checked me after the 2021 Derby... and you checked me so hard that my shoulder bruised” the spaniard chuckled seeing how shocked you were

“I didn’t” you said getting stressed

“Calm Bebita... yes you did and no I’m not mad at you” Ona immediately got you to calm down again

“I’m sorry... I don’t remember what I was thinking “ you said very ashamed of yourself

“You mumbled something about stupid reds and stupid spanish and stupid Georgia and bloody last minutes goals” Ona chuckled

“Oh my God... I remember now..” you screeched embarrassed “... you scored in like... 85th...”

“Yeah...” the spaniard laughed as you turned in her arms hiding your face in Onas neck

“It was a mistake from G... she deflected the ball and suddenly you appeared out of nowhere like David fucking Copperfield and scored” you groaned against the spaniards neck

“Yeah... I heard you screaming bloody murder at Georgia over the whole field and I felt so bad for her... she looked so scared and i think Keira had to physically hold you back from not running on the pitch” Ona said her whole body shaking with laughter

“I... I... oh gooooood” you groaned trying to hide even more

“It’s okay Bebita” Ona laughed and started to lightly scratch your lower back “Relax Pequeña”

“I’m so sorry” you whined

“We’re good Bebita... Estabas muy emocionado por perder...” the blonde mumbled feeling how you started relax again “Dormir”

“T’estimo Oni” you mumbled and this time you were out like a light

“T’estimo massa Bebita” Ona whispered noticing you were already dead asleep

[andreafmn]

Speak | Chapter 10

Word Count: 3.5K Story Description: Bella Swan was a disaster when Edward had left. Deciding she needed a little help, Charlie Swan receives with open arms his younger daughter (Y/N) Swan. She helps Bella during her depression and becomes inseparable from her long-lost friend Jacob. What she didn’t expect was falling for a hotheaded short-tempered silver wolf. Chapter: 10/? Warnings: emotional and mental abuse A/N: can't believe I finished this on schedule! the story everyone is obsessed with for some reason just got updated😂🤍 My content will always be free, but if you’re feeling particularly generous, you can leave a tip on any of my posts to support me and my love of writing or buy me a coffee TikTok • Instagram • Business | MASTERLIST If you’d like to be tagged in this or any other story: click here Make sure you have my notifications on so you know every time I post!  Taglists for Twilight get filled quick and Tumblr only lets me tag up to a certain point. Notifications are your best bet.

<- Previous | Next ->

Chapter 10

"Do you want to stay over tonight?" Jacob suddenly asked as the pair made their way to his truck. "It's already so late and I don't wanna make the drive back to Forks right now."

"Uh, sure, that sounds great," she said, trying to contain her excitement. A surge of happiness took over her as she witnessed Jake trying. He was trying to keep them together, at least that's what it looked like to her. "I'll just let dad know."

"Yeah, sure."

After she had settled on the center of the seat, Jacob helped his father into the truck, stepping out to say goodbye to his friends.

"I'll let you know that there won't be any funny business under my roof, (Y/N)," Billy smiled teasingly. "Though I am glad that Jacob is seemingly trying to turn over a new leaf this new year."

"I promise we'll do nothing but sleep, Billy," she chuckled. "And I also hope this is a new start for Jake and me. That everything that happened stays in the past and we can just give it our all in this relationship."

"If it is meant to be, (Y/N), the universe will find a way," he said as mystically as he always spoke. "You deserve happiness, my child."

"People keep saying that," she responded, her eyes growing far more interested in the skin of her fingers. "Does no one think that Jake can make me happy?"

"That's not what I'm saying, (Y/N)," he smiled, his hand falling on top of the one she was picking. "All I am saying is that if the love and happiness that you deserve is with Jacob, then the universe will allow it."

"And if not?"

"Then, your paths will always align."

"Then let's hope that what's written on the stars is in our favor." And as she said that she didn't know if she was wishing that to convince him or to convince herself.

The three of them rode back to the Black residence in a comfortable silence. The sounds of the woods and the whistling of the wind filled their quiet. She wondered what they said. If they whispered words of encouragement or if they taunted her downfall. She wanted to believe it was the former, because the latter would wreck her.

"Well, you two. I trust that you will behave yourselves since you're under my roof," Billy told them, eyeing the teenagers suspiciously. "And don't start getting used to these sleepovers. This is only because it's already two in the morning and we are all tired."

"Dad," Jacob grumbled. "Just go to bed already."

"Ooh, never thought I'd be shooed away in my own home," the man chuckled. "But I will leave you two. Not because you told me so, but because I am tired. Good night, kids."

"Night, dad."

"Good night, Billy."

Billy rolled away to his bedroom, turning in for the night. He left the couple standing in the living room, a heavy and tense air blowing between them. They had yet to acknowledge everything that had happened between them, much less finally putting it to rest.

"Uh, I'll get you some clothes and you can shower first if you want," Jacob mumbled as he walked into his room before coming out with a folded t-shirt and some sweatpants. "Might be a bit big on you, but it's better than nothing. There're extra towels under the sink."

"Sure," she smiled. "Thanks."

There was still remnant awkwardness between them as they tried to waltz around unspoken words. She locked herself in the bathroom, finally allowing herself to breathe. Fresh start is what she told herself. Over and over again she told herself that they were having a fresh start. As she showered and cleaned away Paul's touch and the thought of him, she had to believe it.

Jacob was who she had always wanted. The boy she had grown up with, the one she had never forgotten. Still, her mind wondered what would have happened if Paul had been the one she had met first. If he had been the boy that was in her mind for the almost sixteen years she had been alive. Maybe she would have been standing in his bathroom instead of Jake's. Maybe she would have been wearing his oversized t-shirt.

"Hey," Jacob called softly from the living room as she opened the bathroom door. "Come here."

(Y/N) walked down the hallway to where he was, a smile stretching on her face as she was met with what Jake had done while she showered.

He had pushed aside the wooden coffee table that lived between the sofas and placed in its stead plush blankets and pillows, a pair of hot chocolate mugs in front of the fireplace. His long, wet hair was plaited back, and he had changed into pajamas. And he was waiting for her.

"What's all this?" (Y/N) smiled.

"I think it's about time we put things to rest already, (Y/N)," he said, patting the pace in front of him. "I don't like fighting with you."

"I don't like it either," she sighed contentedly as she sank into the warmth of his body, his arms wrapping around her. "I like things when they're like this. When we're together and happy."

"I know, and I want it to be like this all the time. But it can't be when I hear you're running around with Paul," he reminded her. His tone was soft, but his words were as snipping as a snake's bite. "I just can't stand the guy and it's embarrassing when it happens in front of the town."

"Jake, I..."

"Don't worry, baby, that's all in the past. As long as you promise not to see him again, (Y/N). I don't want you to fall into his trap."

(Y/N) couldn't remain quiet for long. She knew it would only work to anger him. But how could she promise something she didn't want to do? Something that her gut told her was wrong. "Of course," she lied. "I promise. Paul is a thing from the past."

"That's what I like to hear," he smiled before he turned her head to kiss her. "We need to focus more on us. Focus on our relationship."

"I would love that," she beamed. "I want this to work, Jake. I want us to work."

"Then let's," he smirked.

Jake attached his mouth to her neck, nipping at a spot that took her breath away. His hand held her head back, gripping her jaw. He took in her scent, the warmth of her skin, the sounds from her mouth. All as he imagined...

"Stop, Jake," she said, her voice treading between a moan and a chuckle. "Your dad is literally down the hall."

"He's a heavy sleeper," he chuckled against her skin. "He'll never know."

"No, Jake." She separated from him; a playful grin splayed on her mouth as she turned to face him. "Not here. Not now."

"Ugh, fine," he groaned, falling on his back. "Then, I guess we'll just sleep."

"Yes," she mused, crawling over his body and planting a soft kiss on his lips. "But together."

Jacob wrapped his arms around her and chuckled, positioning both of them comfortably on a blanket and draping another over them. Her body curled into his, his arms wrapped around her waist as he spooned her.

"We'll have to talk about taking things to the next level," he said against her ear, his breath tickling her skin. "I think it might cement everything between us."

"And I think you need to take a breather, Jacob," she chuckled. "We just got to a good place. Let's take things as they go."

"Ugh, fine," he muttered jokingly. "Then, let's just go to sleep."

"Alright, Jake. Good night."

"Night, (Y/N)."

If every night after was like this one, maybe it was the universe's way of telling her that Jake was the one. Laying there, wrapped in his arms, she could let herself believe that the tides were changing. That at the end of the day, Jacob would choose her. Maybe, just maybe.

***

"I can't believe she went home with him," Paul groaned, punching a nearby tree. The way the bark splintered helped ease his anger for a second, but the burning pain inside his chest remained. "I don't know what else I can do to make her understand what a shitty guy he is."

"You know there is," Jared teased. "You could always tell her how you feel and why."

Paul's stoic stare was clear even in the darkness of the night. He knew Jared was right. The more he pursued her without telling her the reason why, the harder it would be to explain his behavior. "You know I can't, dude," he grumbled. "I don't wanna put her in the middle of all of this bull."

"It's not that bad, man," the boy offered. "Look at me and Kim. She knows and nothing has happened to her."

"Yeah, she also liked you before you were a shapeshifting freak," he joked. "And look at Emily. She's forever scarred because didn't have a grasp on what was happening."

"Come on, you know that was an exception, Paul. What happened to her was a very unfortunate accident. But an accident, nonetheless. There's really no reason for you to be running from (Y/N)."

"Look how much shit happened to Bella in so little time, Jared. And it all started when she found out the truth about the Cullens," Paul said. "I don't know what I would do if I made (Y/N) go through any of that because of what I am."

"So you're gonna continue brooding and make our lives miserable? Just tell her, man. Maybe she'll fall in love with you and turn that frown upside down."

Paul picked up a stick and threw it at Jared's head, laughing as the other boy tried to duck but failed to; the piece of wood bouncing off his forehead. "You'll have to put up with me for a lot longer then," he laughed, swallowing the sadness that threatened to overtake him. "I just don't think I have it in me to do that to her. She deserves to be safe and happy."

"Even if it's with Jacob?"

"Unfortunately, that decision is hers to make," he sighed. "I just wish she didn't have to get hurt in the process."

Jared remained quiet for a second. He stared as his pack brother paced before him, his mind too quiet aside for the sporadic image of (Y/N). But even if he didn't say it, he could feel Paul's sadness. He could feel the tug in his chest that called him to go to her. He had felt it too. Every time Kim had to go to a family dinner or visit family out of state, he felt like someone had taken his heart off his chest and sent it away.

But (Y/N) was so close. All he had to do was have one tough conversation and he could soften the grasp of the claws that covered his heart. "What are you so afraid of, Paul?" Jared finally said. "I know you say you don't want to hurt her and all that, but there's something else. Isn't there?"

Paul stared at his friend, wondering if he was that transparent. "I've never been a, uh, a relationship guy. Haven't had the best role models," he confessed. "I guess I think that if I let myself get close to her, I won't be able to handle when she inevitably goes. Because at the end of the day, everyone leaves."

"Not everyone, Paul. We're still here."

"Because you have to be," he shrugged. "If you had the chance to go, you would take it. And don't try denying it."

"Come on, man. You're my friend. More than that, you're my brother," Jared reassured. "But, sure, if I had the chance to leave the rez one day, I would take it. But that doesn't mean I would leave my friends behind. Much less, family."

"Jared, we wouldn't have even spoken to each other had it not been because of the shift. I'm not that delusional to think otherwise."

"Regardless of how or why it happened, life brought us together, Paul. And whether you like it or not, you're my brother now," the boy smiled, draping his arm over Paul's shoulders. "Now, you need to let that girl prove that she would stick by you as well. And it starts by having that difficult conversation you're so scared to have. She's desperate for a reason, dude. All you have to do is tell her."

"She's going to think I'm crazy, J. That I'm making up stories to get her away from Jake," Paul whined. "Why would she believe that there are shapeshifting wolves roaming around the reservation protecting humans from threats? And what if she goes to her sister with the story? Then Bella will know about vampires and shapeshifters, and it'll just add more shit on top of the mess we're dealing with."

"How about you stop overthinking yourself into the ground and finally grow some balls?" Jared teased. "Don't think of what might happen and live in the moment. I know last year's Paul would've had the courage to ask her out. Jacob or no Jacob."

"I technically already asked her out once, and it ended up with me, by myself, in the diner," he reminded his friend, red flooding his cheeks as he recalled the embarrassing moment. "This is not just about inviting the prettiest girl in school to the prom. This is about telling someone that everything they had believed is not real. It's telling her that it doesn't matter what she might have wanted, that something out in the universe decided that we are bonded for life. It's telling a girl like her that she's stuck with a guy like me."

"Man, I can't keep trying to convince you that you are a good guy," Jared sighed. "I'm not saying you're the gods' gift to mankind. Certainly not the you from a year ago. But you're not that guy anymore. You're not even the same guy from six months ago. So, it's time to pick yourself up and do what you have to do. Stop moping about this and do something."

***

(Y/N) woke up with warm arms wrapped around her and a pang in her chest she didn't understand. She was supposed to feel happy. She was supposed to wake up that New Year's Day with an overwhelming amount of joy and the sense that things were finally on the right path. Instead, there was an aching void in her heart that was trying to eat at her insides.

It was the same void that had started festering since that fateful night at the bonfire. The one that seemed to calm whenever the fluke was around. The one that called out his name and she had let go on deaf ears.

That pang filled her with guilt. As she lay in Jacob's arms, she felt guilty that her head was thinking of another guy. And it was a guy she barely knew. A boy that she had no business thinking about, much less dreaming about.

But she couldn't help it. She couldn't forget the softness of his hands against her skin, the brightness of his smile as he looked at her, the glimmer in his eyes when he listened to her. She couldn't get him out of her head.

And as if by divine intervention, the very constant thought appeared in Jacob's window. He knocked softly, motioning for her to go outside. (Y/N) couldn't believe he was there, much less that Jacob had yet to wake up. But what was harder to fathom was the fact that she was tiptoeing to the front door dragging a blanket with her.

"What are you doing here, Paul?" (Y/N) said as she closed the door behind her, wrapping the fabric tighter around her body. "If Jacob sees you here, he'll kill you."

"I thought I was supposed to be playing nice with him," he grinned teasingly. "What if I was here to extend a truce?"

"It wouldn't have mattered because he made me promise him that I wouldn't see you again," she whispered. "So, imagine what he will do if he sees you here right now."

"And did you?"

"What? Did I what?"

"Did you promise him, (Y/N)?" Paul asked sadly. "Is this your way of telling me that you're cutting ties with me?"

"No, of course not," she quickly replied. "I mean, I did promise him. But I never intended to keep it. I would just find a way to keep you two separate."

"So, what? I'd just be your dirty little secret?" he replied, anger clear in his tone. "Yeah, no, thanks. I'd rather take my chances with other friendships."

"What did you want me to say, Paul? Did you want me to tell my jealous boyfriend that I wanted to maintain a friendship with the one guy he seems to despise more than anything?" (Y/N) spoke through gritted teeth. "Would you have wanted me to tell Jake that I wanted to spend time with a guy he was close to dragging into the middle of town and beating the living daylights out of him? Sure, that would have ended great for me."

"Why would you wanna be with a guy like that, (Y/N)? If you're that afraid of his reaction over something as small as a friendship, what do you think will happen if something bigger happens?"

"He only reacts that way with you, and I don't get why," she sighed. "And I wanna be with him because I... because... because I..."

"Why, (Y/N)? Tell me!"

"Because I love him, Paul," she cried, shame cracking her voice. "I've been waiting for this chance for the better part of my life. I've been in love with him for as long as I've known what it was. And he wants me back, Paul. He wants me. And I'm not giving up at the first sign of hardship. So, if you really want to be my friend then you're gonna have to live with that."

"What if I don't?" Paul grumbled, his voice low and hurt. He got closer to her. So close she could feel how warm his body was, even through the blanket. "What if I can't stand around and watch as he mistreats you? Someone that loves you would never treat you like that."

"Don't make this harder than it already is, Paul," she whispered, warm tears falling down her cheeks. "For some reason I want you in my life. But I won't screw up what I just started with Jacob for a friend."

"I just don't wanna see you like this," he said, wiping away the tears with the pad of his thumbs. "You deserve to be happy, but not when it has rules and regulations like this. You should be allowed to still be yourself when you're in a relationship."

"Paul..."

"Listen, (Y/N)," he sighed. "I can't tell you what to do, nor would I want to. But I can't just watch in the sidelines as he treats you like shit when you deserve someone that will worship the ground you walk on."

"What are you saying, Paul?" (Y/N) croaked. "Are you saying you won't be my friend if I stay with Jacob?"

"(Y/N), I'm saying that I won't keep quiet if he keeps mistreating you."

"He doesn't," she said, but she knew it wasn't convincing. She didn't even believe it herself. "He just... he's just passionate, I guess."

"Then can you promise me something?" Paul sighed, his eyes glossing with tears. "If he ever –and I mean ever—gets physical with you, even as much as lifts his hand at you, you will tell me. The second it happens, you call me."

"I don't think it'll come to that," she forced a smile. "He would never put his hands on me."

"Just, please, (Y/N). Promise me and don't lie to me."

"Alright," she said, looking straight into the brown of his eyes. "I promise, Paul."

"I'll make sure you're always safe," he promised. His hand had not fallen from her face, his thumb caressing over her cheekbone. "No one is going to hurt you, (Y/N)."

(Y/N) had no idea why, but she believed every word he said. So, she promised. And, unlike with Jacob, she intended to keep it.

Next ->

Taglist: @winter-soldier-101@zheezs14 @a-sifu-hotman @sunflowerleii @DyslexicCatterpillar @Blackbluerose666 @slutforsainz @kortniec696 @xcastawayherosx@minhaimaginacao @bluebirbnamedJay @sirenheadenby@andreiaafaria@bluetreecloud20 @valejewel @nogitsune-the @user0ur0mom@skyesthebomb @swidkid @avis15 @honeylovemoon@wonieeee @edwardssugarmommy @nyenye@sugajar @lovel-blog @witchofhawkins @Six-Call @then-worship-at-my-altar@ems-alexandra @blueshoelacess @Nyctophilia710  @rosalie-whitlock @nocturnalherb16 @this-is-a-bad-idea@esposadomd @locokoca@volturiwolf@spookyqueen@gh0stgirl33@catgirlpwr @nolaxox @klf1999@krazyk99@ilikepunsbeth@adaydreamaway08@cinffy23 @paodemorangol1l1 @hufflepuffobsessedwithmarvel@toomanythoughts33@jrosefangirl@queereddie @Missvicious @sugasthreedollarkookie @laylaskywalker @fandomonetwo@fruitylilfuck @a-slut-for-Loki-Bucky @honeywxter @haroldpotterson@justamessandahalf@come-on-darling-honey@dove-chan32931@kaita11@gangstalicious06 @iincandescenttt @demonchick1@uwunuggetchan@elijahssuit @multifandomreader73 @shara-ne@nngkay@blackloveangel13 @Mar @the-faceless-bride@holywolfsstuff@abs-2020@lunajay33@hpboysslut2707@lisacarolined @TheCollectorOfWords @euphoria1992 @yuki255 @gabi-princesada1d @lowkeysaurus@zealouscookierebeltrash@laylasbunbunny@sleepilysworld@quartzzzzzzz@merakiaes @Rycbar22 @treatiseofselena@pinkdragonfandream-blog @attlas567 @american-sataness @magical-spit @t-stark35@thirstybunzy@inpraizeof@multifandombitch696@phases–ofthemoon @oi-itse@foley-97@gh0stgurl @rinalous @Smolalien13 @jstarr86@svsmoony@spideysbaby @Odinswarriorvalkyrie @Coquita @ilikepunsbeth @Itsmytimetodream @ivory-raptor @laury-blackbeak @unstablekay @midnightmisses @paperbackwitch @problematicpastry @thirstybunzy @magical-spit @t-stark35 @multifandombitch696

@kiroii-ntzl @ggshif79 @ratsys @iincandescenttt @loserclub36 @hopexargent @druigsluver29 @ronslovergir; @fresita1218 @buckywenal @flu0re @xkatiex @unicornicopia1 @the-house-of-rose-and-ember @ange111face222

[lyjen]

Deathwish

Summary: When Evan walks (Y/n) home to her apartment, they bump into something that turns (Y/n)’s cop radar on. They decide to check it out. But it goes horribly wrong when she makes a mistake.

9-1-1 Masterlist

…………………

“You know.. you didn’t have to walk me home.” (Y/n)’s voice spoke as her fingers intertwined with Evan’s, while he had his arm resting around her shoulders.

Evan smiled down at (Y/n). “You know I wouldn’t let you walk home alone. LA is full of creeps and criminals these days.“ He knew she would tell him to just go home.

They were walking home from the bar. Well, Evan was walking (Y/n) home from the bar. And after he watched her get in to her apartment, he would walk himself home. That was the plan.

The bar wasn’t that far from their homes. It was just a few blocks. A little bit too much to ask to call an Uber for.

“Yeah.. that’s true. But now that I’m a cop, I’m pretty sure i can handle it by myself is something would happen.” She says, as she glances a soft smile towards her boyfriend.

“Technically, you’re not a cop yet.” Evan spoke, as he received an offended look from (y/n). “I mean.. you are a cop! But not yet a cop.. cop. You know?..” He tried to talk himself out of it. He tried his best. God, she loved teasing him. To see him freak out like that, trying not to hurt her feelings..

She glances up at him, while their fingers were still intertwined together. As she starts to laugh at Evan’s try to save himself from this conversation.

Evan stops walking and let his arm slowly glide down her shoulder as she keeps on walking. He sighs while he shows a smile.

He knew he was panicking for nothing.

(Y/n) took place in front of Evan. “Yeah, I get it. I’m not yet a cop, I’m still a rookie. But I’ll get there.” She says determined.

Evan smiles and grabs her hand to pull her closer to his chest. He presses a kiss on her lips. Her hand tracing towards the back of Evan’s neck. For a second, it felt like it was just them. No drama. Just them.

(Y/n) flinches as she hears something falling in the alleyway they were standing in front of. Her head shot right to the entry of the narrow way. It sounded like break in noises. Her cop radar was already going off. “What was that?” She reacts to the sound.

Evan was also looking right at the alley. He pressed his lips into a thin line. As he softly shakes his head. “I don’t know.” He simply answers to her question.

She dropped her hand which was still placed on the back of Evan’s neck. And she pushed her jacket away, to let her right hand rest on her gun, which was pressed between her hip and her jeans. She always had a gun on her, now that she was a rookie. She turns her body away from Evan, so her body was facing the alley now.

“That were probably a few street cats messing around.”

For Evan it could be a couple of cats fighting and throwing stuff around. But it wasn’t that. It sounded suspicious. She knew the sound of a cat fight. And this wasn’t exactly the sound.

“Stay here.” (Y/n) whispers as she leans forward to take a step, but gets stopped by Evan pulling her arm.

“Are you kidding me? I’m going with you.” Evan stated with a low voice.

“Do you have a gun? Have you learned how to use one? No. So let me do this. I’ll be fine. Just trust me.”

Evan hesitated. But nodded in agreement. He knew he couldn’t stop her, once his girlfriend has something on her mind, he could try anything to go and stop her. But it wouldn’t matter because she would just go with her own plans.

Their eye contact disconnects, as she slowly but carefully walks into the alley. She can hear her own heartbeat beating in her ears and in her throat. She’d never done this before. But she had to step outside of her comfort zone if she wanted to be a cop.

Step by step, she gets deeper and deeper into the alley, holding the gun in front of her. She turns to the right. Following the soft voices she could hear. This alley was huge, like there wasn’t an end at all.

When she finally found the source of the voices, she kept waiting on the corner. So they wouldn’t see her. She could see three men, or at least she assumed they were men. All of them were wearing their hood. Which meant, those people were clearly up to no good.

She knew she couldn’t handle them on her own. (Y/n) had to call for back up. The only way to do that, was to call 9-1-1. But she had to get back to do that. Otherwise they might hear her.

When she heard enough, (Y/n) slowly started walking back the way she walked in here. “Going somewhere?” A low toned voice spoke up. Which send a shiver down her spine. There was a guy in front of her. Mask on, fully black clothed. When she feels how a few more came standing behind her.

She’s surrounded.

She feels a burning pain when something metal makes contact with her back. Which causes her to fall down on her knees, while she tries to break her fall with her hands. She holds herself up, keeping her from falling forward.

Tears started running down her face. The pain was spreading across her spine and shoulder blades. She started to breathe heavily, trying not to scream out, that’s the kind of reaction they wanted.

Not many seconds later, she felt one of the feet of the guys meet her abdomen. Which made her fall on her side. With her arms she reached towards her abdomen. She felt how the blood inside her body rushed through her veins to the place where the foot met her stomach.

A cough leaves (Y/n)’s mouth, blood mixed with spit coming out of her mouth. She groans at the burning feeling inside of her body. And with all of her strength she rolls onto her back. Trying anything to make the pain she felt to be come less.

He roughly grabs a fist full of her hair and pulls her up. Her back wasn’t touching the cold wet ground anymore. She was now sitting up, at least with the strength of the man in front of her. She didn’t have the power to keep herself up, to ease the pain that was pounding through her scalp now.

A furious yet annoyed look projected on (y/n)’s face “Mind your own business next time. Cop.” she collected all the spit and blood which filled up in her mouth, and spit it in the man’s face.

He lets go of her hair and wipes a hand down his face. She tries to break her fall with her arms and hands. Full with anger and disgust he takes a look at his hand, now full of the spit and blood. As he suddenly within a second points a gun towards (y/n).

“You have a deathwish? Cause I can make that wish come true right fucking now!” He said with a loud voice. (Y/n) stayed quiet holding herself up with her hands behind her back. Looking emotionless at the man.

(Y/n) had been in these kind of situations before. And she reached the point where if someone was pointing a gun towards her, it didn’t do anything to her anymore. It’s like she found the switch off button.

One of the others puts a hand on the top of the gun, and pushes it down to the ground, so it wasn’t pointing at her anymore. (Y/n) hears them mumbling something, she couldn’t quite catch whatever they were saying.

The man looks like he’s walking away. But then, within a blink of an eye, the man ran towards her. He’s standing over her, pushing her to the ground and hitting her in the face like she was a living punching bag.

Her vision turns blurry, and spots in black and white were starting to form in her eyes. She could still feel the man hoovering over her, as her vision totally turns into black.

Evan tapped his feet, and impatiently takes a look at his watch. Three minutes.. she went into that alley, three minutes ago. For him those three minutes, felt like three years. Evan couldn’t simply stand back and wait.

He wasn’t the type for it. He always wanted to help.

Evan knew that dating a cop, or a rookie, came with consequences, like his own job did too. But it was different. In some sort of way, it seemed like being a firefighter came with less dangerous situations. Yes, they’d run into burning building, help anywhere they could when they were in the middle of a natural disaster. But being a cop came mostly with weapons, criminals, drugs, fights and so much more where Evan didn’t have any experiences with.

It was scary because it was the unknown. He didn’t know what kind of criminals were running around in Los Angeles. He didn’t know what they were in capable of doing. Especially if they knew (Y/n) was a rookie.

“Come on..” he whispers to himself. He promised (Y/n) to stand back. To wait. To trust her. Yes, she’s a cop in probation period. But that’s still a cop. And she was a damn’ good one.

Another minute passes by. He groans, and let a hand go through his blonde curls. He sighs.

“Fuck it.” he mumbles to himself as he walks straight into the alley he just saw his girlfriend vanishing into. Gun or no gun, he was going in. Maybe he could fist fight himself out of it, if there actually was trouble. He had trained enough.

When he slowly, but carefully walks into the ally, Evan is focussed on every sound he hears. He can hear his own breathing fastening when he turns a corner.

Evan walks deeper and deeper into the alley, which truly felt like a maze by now. When he turns another corner he sees something on the ground in the distance.

Before he could even process what was going on, who or what was lying down on the ground a few feet further down the alley. But his gut was telling him that it was his girlfriend lying on the cold wet ground.

He feels how something cold gets pressed into the back of his shoulder. He hears a click. And within less than a second he could feel a cruel pain fill a huge spot on his shoulder.

(Y/n)’s vision was still blurry, but with every blink, they went a little more clear. She groans and turns on her side.

With her vision now being crystal clear. A gunshot rang through her ear drum. The gunshot went from a normal shot into a high frequency sound. She could see how a body fell down to the ground. Lifeless.

She doesn’t know who it was, who got shot. All she knew is that she needed to help. She rolled another 90 degrees, so she was now on her belly. (Y/n) tries to collect every single piece of energy she had left, and pushed herself up to her feet.

With her right hand still resting on her stomach, to try and ease the throbbing pain she felt from the bruises she assumed. She limps towards the victim. When she gets closer. She recognises that jacket. The grey jacket Evan wore at this exact night. “Buck?” She said with a confused tone. Why did he follow her? When she told him not to.

Panic rushed through her body when she saw her own boyfriend lying lifeless on the ground. She tries to run, but her body couldn’t handle it. So she made it a speed walk, mixed with a few limps in between her movements.

“Buck!” she called out louder through her sobs as she truly realizes what was happening. She drops herself to her knees next to his side as she cried his name out multiple times, with the hope that he would open his eyes. “Evan. Please Evan. Wake up.” She shakes his arm and pats her hand on his cheek.

(Y/n) takes a look at his body, scanning him for the wound that got him going unconscious. As she spots the wound, she immediately starts putting pressure on it. She pushes the skin down with as much strength as she got. Both of her hands were spread with blood. (Y/n) reaches with one hand into the left pocket of the jacket she was wearing, reaching for her phone. Smears of blood were over her phone when she tries to dial 9-1-1.

“Firefighter down. Firefighter down” she repeats with a voice which sounded like she was out of breath and sobbing.

After a while she hears the sirens of police cars and ambulances in the distance while she was still trying to keep enough pressure on the gunshot wound.

Her arms were starting to shake, she was tired. Her whole body was aching at the wounds they had left her with. She can feel the presence of a few people getting to her side and her Evans. “27 year old male, gunshot wound to the left shoulder. Unconscious since I found him.” She hears how one of them tells her that she can let go now. That they’ve got this.

It feels like everything around her was happening in slow motion. But she wasn’t really present, it’s like nothing in her brains seems to see what’s going on.

The second she feels a hand touching her shoulder, she lets go of her boyfriend’s body. And she gets guided towards one of the other available paramedics.

She saw a familiar face coming into view. It was Eddie, who was probably on shift because he was wearing his dark blue uniform. “What happened?” He instantly asked her when he recognizes (y/n). Her face had a few cuts mixed with bruises and a black eye.

For a second it was silent. “It’s my fault.” she whispers. His eyes narrowed, and a confused look was projected on his face. He didn’t understand. “What do you mean?” he asked her with a confused tone. “He told me not to go.” She cries. Eddies lips went into a thin line. “Come here” he says as he pulls her to his chest, and feels how instantly a wet spot on his chest is created because of her tears. After a few moments, he pulls back. And takes a look at her face, which didn’t look good at all. “Let’s check you out hm?” (Y/n) nodded, and limped with him towards the ambulance.

…………………

Evan was sitting in his wheelchair one of the nurses gave to him. He wanted to see his girlfriend so badly, that sometimes he’d try and sneak out of his room. But he never came further than the doorframe of his own room. After the workers decided he was fit enough to ride around in his wheelchair, he was outside her room within seconds.

He was staring at her, through the window with these awful hospital blinds. She was in her bed, eyes closed with her face facing the ceiling. A few cuts spread over her face and a black eye that was healing.

Evan was brought in, unconscious on a gurney. And (Y/n) was perfectly fine. At least that was what they thought. But right now, they were waiting for (y/n) to wake up.

“Thought I’d find you here… I was starting to think you’d rolled yourself out of this hospital by now.” Eddie’s voice sounded through his eardrums. He took place next to Evan, so that he was now also looking through the window.

After a few moments of silence. He broke the silence. “You know what she said when we got on scene?” Eddie paused. Earning a questionable look from Evan. “It’s my fault. That’s the first thing she said.” He continued. Buck looked at Eddie. But didn’t know what to say. As he turns his head back to peek through the window. When Eddie didn’t receive anything back. “She’s blaming herself Buck.”

“I know.” Evan says now, with a trembling voice. “She told me to stay back. But I’d never be able to forgive myself, if I didn’t go after her.” He continued.

“She could’ve died, Eddie.” Evan finishes his sentence, Eddie could tell that Evan was on the edge of crying. He could hear it in his voice. Eddie puts his hand on Evan’s shoulder to give him some comfort. “Let’s not talk about what could’ve or should’ve happened okay? She’s alive. And so are you. That’s the only thing that matters.”

“But what are you doing out here? Why aren’t you in there?”

Evan shrugged with his shoulders.”I don’t know.” He answered simply, while he was still facing the window. Eddie put both his hands into his pockets. “Yes you do know.” It suddenly was like Eddie was talking to a child. They were silent. Eddie was waiting for an answer from Evan.

“I’m scared..” Evan broke the silence. “I’m scared that, if I enter this room. I’ll make everything worse. Like I did with entering that alley.” Evan continued. Eddie sighs. “It’s like the universe put a curse on me. Because when something is finally going good, everything falls apart again.”

“Buck. Stop. You’re not cursed. You two were just at the wrong place, at the wrong time. But all I know is, at this very moment.. you are at the right place, at the right time.” Eddie tries to convince Evan.

“(Y/n) needs you. She needs you to hold her, and tell her that everything is going to be okay.” He finishes. Evan sighs deeply, as his eyes went from the window to his best friend. “The only way to do that. Is to go in there.” Eddie says, while his and Evan’s eyes make a connection. Evan pushes his lips into a thin line. Deep down, he knew Eddie was right. So he nodded. His hands went to the breaks of the wheelchair, to take them off so he could move the chair freely.

Evan couldn’t wheel himself. His shoulder was still hurting and healing from the surgery they performed on him. So Eddie pushed the wheelchair inside, so Evan could sit on the left side of her bed. Eddie patted him on the shoulder and left the room.

The room was filled with beeping sounds of the equipment which was connected to her body. He didn’t know what to do.

He sighs. “Why would you blame yourself?” He whispers. He decides to put his hand on hers. Her hand wasn’t cold. But it wasn’t warm either. He rubs his thumb over her hand.

“Remember when we met for the first time?” He smiles at the thought. “We got a call of a house fire. So went out to the call, and we found you and your TO outside the house with the victim. And Bobby got so mad at you two, because there were so many toxic gases in the house. But you went in to save that man’s life anyway without any gear.” He chuckles while a tear went down on his cheek. “He was so mad” he laughed while he squeezed her hand.

“And then when we offered you a health check. And after you got checked out when I was walking back towards the truck, to bring back my oxygen tank.. You straight to the point told me I was cute, and that we should go on a date.” He smiles at the memory. She was so straight to the point sometimes. And that’s what he loved about her. “I’m so happy that I listened to my gut, and went on that date. Even though everyone around me questioned it.”

Her head rolled to the left side, as she slowly opens her eyes. Her vision blurry, but with every blink it became clearer, and clearer. She smiled when her eyes connected with her boyfriends. Her throat was dry as she tries to swallow. “Me too.” She answers his last sentence. Evan’s smile grew wider as he puts his other hand on her cheek. “Hey” he says softly.

“I’m so glad that you’re okay.” Evan sighs as he puts her hand towards his mouth and gives it a kiss. But he notices how her facial expression changes within a snap of a finger. “What’s on your mind?” He asks.

“I should’ve called it in.” She sighs. Still blaming herself for the incident. “I could’ve just ignore the sound.” She goes on. Evan shook his head. “You were ambushed. And outnumbered. Any other cop, would’ve done exactly the same as you. You can’t blame yourself for doing something good, even if it goes wrong.” He tries to get eye contact with her, but she was looking at her feet. A tear falls on her cheek. Evan puts a strand of hair behind her ear. And wipes the tear away with his thumb.

“Don’t blame yourself for being who you are.”

[starry-bi-sky]

tick tock

Highkey dedicating this to @watercolour-carnations bc they sent me an ask about my 'danny is thomas wayne' au and singlehandedly revitalized my brainrot for it. Apparently the quickest way to a starry's heart is through their ask box

Now posted on ao3 under the name 'dniwer eht kcolc'!

In hindsight, hosting a science exhibit was probably not the best idea that Bruce has ever. This wasn't even one of Bruce's galas and, yet he was still attending because it gave him the opportunity to scope out any potential rogues (or henchmen).

Damian was by his side, and Tim was on the other side of the room, inspecting some of the other inventions under the prospect of gaining new hires for R&D at WE. Something that was not entirely false. Bruce could always use new, bright minds working to make Gotham a better place.

He was, particularly, eyeing up one moderately-sized invention that a woman with cutting blue eyes and stark white hair had covered with a white sheet. An interesting choice when everyone else had already revealed their own inventions. Drifting closer with Damian, he smiles charmingly at the scientist when they lock eyes.

"And what is this interesting contraption?" He asks, looking over the sheet as if it was the invention itself and not what was underneath.

The woman curled purple-painted fingers around the sheet, yanking it down to reveal a machine that looks like a mix of a jukebox and a grandfather clock. A long wire was attached to it, and a strange, blinking, circlet-like device connected on the other end.

Bruce's brows rose considerably, and he could sense Damian's eyes narrowing suspiciously.

"This is my Holographic Memory Machine -- the name is still a work in progress -- it's a memory machine meant to allow anyone to relive their memories right in front of them, even the ones they don't remember." The woman says with a smile, her name card reads 'Dr. Casey W. Kairos'. He's never heard of her before. An out-of-townie, perhaps?

"Interesting." Bruce's hands fold behind his back and he looks down at his disinterested son, and then back up to Dr. Kairos. It sounded harmless, but even a pencil could be harmless until enough force was put into it. "How does that work?"

Dr. Kairos walks over and holds up the strange circlet device, "The user wears this headband. It scans their brainwaves and then plays a memory of their choice right in front of them like a hologram, including any voices that came with it." She explains, showing it off to Bruce and Damian. "Would either of you like to try it? The HMM has been tested and it is completely safe."

Damian scoffs and turns to him, "This is a waste of time, father," He says, "let's move on."

"Oh, don't be like that, Dames." Bruce smiles genially, placing a hand on his son's shoulder and squeezing it. It reminds him of when his father used to do the exact same thing, and he turns to Dr. Kairos. "I can try it, Doctor."

Kairos smiles widely, looking incredibly pleased. "Come stand here then, Mr. Wayne. I can get the HMM up and working." She gestures to a spot on the floor within the circlet's range, and Bruce goes and does as told.

"Standing around and looking pretty is my specialty, Doctor Kairos." He jokes as she gets the device situated on his head. It sits on his forehead snugly, and tucks behind his ears. Kairos snorts and turns to get the machine activated.

"Father." Damian says, indignant and scowling. His arms crossed over his chest petulantly. Bruce chuckles at him.

"The Doctor said it was perfectly safe, Damian." He admonishes lightly, wagging a finger at him. "I trust the good lady to know what she's doing." Not really, but he'd rather test it out on himself if it was unsafe.

Thirty seconds passed with Dr. Kairos working on flicking on the HMM, and when it came alive it came with a low hum and a distinct, ticking like noise. "Ah, there we go." She hums, stepping away. "It's up and working, Mister Wayne. Just think of a memory and let the HMM do the rest."

"Thank you, Doctor." Bruce nods at her, and then tries to think of what to let the machine show. Nothing that would give away his identity as Batman, of course not. Nothing incriminating.

He looks to Damian, who still looked very unhappy with him. Perhaps a memory of one of his boys in the manor? Or a Brucie Wayne moment that everyone's seen. His brows furrow in thought. One of his speeches?

...No. No, he has an idea.

Immediately, the HMM begins to hum louder, the ticking drowned out by the sound of its fans kicking in. It starts drawing the attention of the other ongoers, and Damian steps to Bruce's side as a crowd begins to form.

"What is that thing?"

"What's it doing?"

"Is it safe?"

Hushed whispers scatter around them as more and more people abandon the other stalls in favor of seeing whatever spectacle was happening. Tim appears as well, pushing his way through the crowd and situating himself by Damian and Bruce.

"What's going on?" He whispers with a frown, looking between Bruce and Damian.

Damian hmphs, "Father is trying out this woman's 'Memory Machine'."

Just when Bruce is starting to think the machine doesn't work, he hears a sound that silences the spectators. A piano note. A singular note, followed by another, and another. Right before Bruce's eyes, the air shimmers, and a projection of his father sitting at the grand piano appears before him.

His breath hitches in his throat. He remembers this. He remembers this piece. It was father's favorite.

Damian and Tim are stiff at his side, and Bruce hears the crowd gasp.

There, sitting on the floor at the bench, is Bruce himself at six years old. He's resting his arms on it, and leaning his head on his arms with a look of pure adoration -- did he really look like that? -- aimed at his father.

There's no talking between them, a content silence as Thomas Wayne fills the air with his piano playing. That is-- until he stops midway through the piece, fingers stopping the keys with a abrupt jerk.

Thomas laughs, quiet and full of love, and little Bruce picks his head up with an affronted frown. "Why'd you stop? I like listening to you play."

"I know you do." Thomas says, his voice is as soothing as Bruce remembers it to be. The memory twists to look at little Bruce with a blinding smile, as if he was looking at his whole world. It's the first time in decades that Bruce has seen his father smiling like-- like that. His eyes involuntarily sting.

"But how can you hear so well when you're all the way down there?" Thomas shifts, and pats an open space on the bench. "Come sit up here, Boo. I can teach you to play."

(Thomas Wayne was always fond of pet names, he had plenty of them for Bruce, and he used them at every opportunity.)

Little Bruce perks up, "Really?" He grins, and then clambers into the bench. His father's arms wrap around him.

The voices fade as the memory slowly begins to collapse, and Bruce feels a spike of panic in his heart before the memory is replaced by another one.

He's younger, probably four years old, being sprayed down by a hose by his father. Little Bruce is squealing with laughter, trying to swat the water away like a fly, and his clothes are drenched.

Thomas is laughing as well, wearing a button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He looks like he just came home from a business meeting. Bruce always thought he was old when he was little. But at four years old, Thomas Wayne is only a little over twenty. Barely an adult. He is twenty-four when he dies. He was so young.

"Stop! Stop! Stop!" Little Bruce squeals, trying to run out of the line of fire, but Thomas Wayne has a sharp eye, and the hose in his hands follow Bruce no matter where he goes.

Until finally Thomas drops the hose and runs towards Bruce, who is trying to recover from being sprayed down with ice cold water. Thomas reaches him before he has time to move, and scoops him up in his arms.

He is laughing loudly and boisterously, spinning them both around as Bruce clings to him for dear life, laughing with him. The memory fades away, and Bruce feels like there are hands around his throat trying to choke him.

A new one shows up, one he doesn't remember at all. His father is younger than before, a teenager, and he's holding a tiny bundle in his arms. He looks like he's on the verge of tears, hunched over it like a shield.

Someone, a girl with gothic attire, peers over his shoulder. "Gosh, Tom, a baby? That's a lot of responsibility." She says, dark-lipstick lips painted downwards in a frown. "And right after you've disowned your parents too?"

Another boy looks around Thomas with a similar frown and an uncertain look, "Yeah man, I'm with Sam on this one -- for once. You don't even have anywhere to live."

Thomas doesn't look like he's even paying attention, utterly smitten with the baby -- its himself, Bruce realizes -- he's cradling. "Look at him though, guys," he breathes, "he's so tiny. Have you seen his little watercolor eyes?"

(Watercolor eyes. Bruce had long since forgotten about that nickname his father gave him. hearing him say it is like a punch to his stomach.)

"You named him Bruce?"

Bruce huffs to himself, an involuntary smile twitching at his mouth as the memory dips again and cycles through another memory he recognizes.

The memories it shows are sporadic, with no chronological order to them other than each and every one is a happy one.

Bruce playing piano with his father.

Bruce stargazing with his father.

Bruce being carried on his father's shoulders.

Bruce getting ready for a gala with his father.

Bruce in the kitchen helping his dad make breakfast (there's pancake flour smeared on his cheek).

Bruce making a snowman with his father.

An apology between Bruce and his father in the form of a piano duet.

There are even a few memories he doesn't remember. Some of them are when he's old enough to, but many are when he's a baby. Some are before his father was adopted by the Waynes, when the only thing on their backs was a raggedy backpack and an oversized sweatshirt, and Bruce's baby blanket. And some are after, where he's sitting in an antique rocking chair bottle feeding Bruce with a look of sheer adoration on his face.

That look never seems to go away, ever, in any of the memories.

Finally, the HMM settles on a final memory, one that makes Bruce's blood run cold and snaps him out of his nostalgic revelry. His father is getting ready in his room, and Bruce comes barreling in with his own suit-and-tie.

"Dad! Dad! Dad!" He chants, running to Thomas, who whirls around and picks him up seamlessly. They spin twice before Thomas settles in front of the mirror, Bruce on his hip as he adjusts his tie with one hand.

"Yes, boo?" Thomas grins, wide-splitting with his shock-blue eyes looking at Bruce in the reflection. He and Bruce have the same eyes. It's shocking how much they look like each other, now that Bruce was older.

Little Bruce makes a dramatic face, a look that only lasts a few seconds before he remembers his excitement. He wiggles in Thomas' arms, "You gotta hurry up! Or we'll be late to the movie!"

Bruce's fingers dig into his palm, and he can vaguely feel his sons' looking at him. There's a feeling of impending doom square in the center of his lungs, and he forces himself to look on.

Thomas laughs, and nuzzles Bruce's cheek. "The movie isn't going anywhere, chum, I promise." He says, before setting him down. Little Bruce pouts, his lower lip sticking out. "I know how much you've been looking forward to this."

"Can you help me with my tie then?" Bruce asks, and looks at his own, sloppily done tie around his neck. "I can never get it right."

And, of course, Thomas Wayne kneels down to redo it. He always did everything Bruce asked or wanted. He measures it, loops it, and then knots the tie perfectly.

"There." He says, and smoothes out Bruce's little jacket, smiling in adoration. "Now go play, I'll call you when it's time to go."

And Bruce does just that, running out of the room with a yell of, "You better promise!"

"I promise!" Thomas yells back, laughing at his son as he turns back to the mirror.

The memory shimmers, and changes to as they're leaving. And then and there does Bruce call it quits. His eyes are glistening, his tears nearly blinding him with the swelling, overwhelming grief in his heart. He looks away, and tries to find Doctor Kairos.

(He doesn't see her switch something on the side of the machine. There is no noticeable difference in the machine, but on the inside a time rune starts to glow.)

"I think I'm done here, Doctor." He says once he can find his voice without it shaking. He can't hide the full crack and tremble laying beneath it, but at least he doesn't cry. He's almost forgotten that he had a silent audience.

Doctor Kairos nods and steps forward, reaching for the headband. "The memories should cut off once I take this off, Mister Wayne." She says, and fiddles with it for a moment. Behind her, the memory of himself and his father are walking outside. "I hope that wasn't too much for you?"

(The ticking of the machine grows louder, and the memory glitches.)

"No, no." Bruce assures with a smile that wasn't all Brucie Wayne yet. He looks down when he feels Damian's hand curl around his, and his son leans into his side. His smile softens, and he presses Damian closer. His other arm finds itself over Tim's shoulders as well, pressing him to his side.

"It was fine. Actually, it was an honor to be the first to try out your memory machine. I'm sure it will help many people." He tells her. She smiles slyly, and slides the headband off his head.

"That's what I'm hoping for, Mister Wayne." Doctor Kairos places the headband onto the table. The memory hasn't disappeared, Bruce notes with a furrow of his brows. And the audio has muffled slightly.

"I thought you said that the memory would cut off when the headband was off?" He asks. Kairos looks at him, and then behind her at the memory. She frowns.

"It should have--"

Little Bruce suddenly frowns, and looks away from Thomas. "Do you hear that?"

Bruce frowns. "I don't remember this." That wasn't in his memory. They just went straight to Monarch Theater without any issue.

Thomas looks down at his son, "What noise?" He asks, squeezing Bruce's hand. His head cranes, as if trying to hear whatever noise Bruce was hearing.

"That ticking sound." Bruce's frown deepens, "It sounds like your clock, dad."

Thomas' immediately frowns, looking so strikingly like Bruce that he marvels for a moment. He looks around as well. "...You're right. I hear it too." He steps a little closer to Bruce, his hand tightening around his.

A sense of unease fills Bruce's lungs. "What's going on?" He asks, taking a step away from the memory. This was different. This isn't his memory.

"I'm not sure." Doctor Kairos says, and her unsurety sounds so practiced and calm that Bruce's suspicion levels to her immediately. His boys look at her too with the same unease. "This wasn't supposed to happen."

She strides around the memory to the side of the machine just as a gold symbol appears on the ground. It looks like a giant roman clock, and a loud, clunky ticking fills the room.

The memories see it too, and Bruce's heart drops to his feet as he and the rest of the crowd back away from it. "Dad, what is that?!" Little Bruce exclaims, a look of fear morphing across his face as he suddenly clings to his dad's leg.

Thomas looks pale, looking at his feet and gripping little Bruce to him protectively. "I don't-- I don't know, Bruce."

(A memory that Bruce doesn’t have is his father arguing with a man named Clockwork. He does not see the man named Clockwork all but beg Thomas not to go out tonight.)

("Does something happen to Bruce?" His father asks the ghost.)

("No," the man says, "but--")

("But nothing, Clockwork." Thomas, once Danny, says firmly. "My son has been looking forward to this all week. I'm not going to crush his hopes by changing my mind last minute.")

("Thomas, please.")

("Look, if something happens tonight, I will handle it, okay?" Thomas assures him, a hand atop Clockwork's shoulder with a small smile. "I promise.")

(And then he leaves, Clockwork defeated in his wake.)

(Clockwork has seen this boy grow up from the shadows, and now he can do nothing to stop his fate like he once did before.)

The strange, clock-like circle, something intrinsically magic, begins to glow. The minute and hour hands tick faster and faster. Little Bruce holds onto his father like a lifeline, and Thomas Wayne crouches down to hold his son tighter, protectively.

Bruce Wayne turns away just as the light grows blinding, tucking Tim and Damian into his chest like a human shield. There is yelling and screams as the crowd tries to stampede away from it.

Bruce has no idea what this light will do, but he'd rather die than let his sons get hurt.

The light burns his eyelids even when he isn't facing it. And when it dies without even a burn across his back, Bruce slowly unfurls. His hands stay on his sons' shoulders, keeping them close to him, and he peers over his shoulder.

There on his knees, is Thomas Wayne, curled protectively around eight year old Bruce Wayne, much like Bruce had been. Bruce holds his breath, and his sons slowly unfurl themselves as well and peer around him.

Thomas Wayne is frozen in place for one second, two seconds, three. And then he begins to move. First, the tension drains out of his shoulders, and his head jerks, as if surprised that nothing has happened.

He looks up, his eyes open, and he and Bruce make eye contact. Bruce cannot breathe, and he cannot believe the sight before him. It's just the memory machine breaking. (Doctor C.W Kairos is nowhere to be found.)

And then recognition flickers in his father's face as his panting slows and quiets. His head tilts to the side like a fawn's, a familiar wrinkle appearing before his brows.

"Bruce?"

[sportswriters]

nope, no favorites around here - j. drury

pairing: jack drury x female!reader | f, slight a | co-workers to lovers | wc: 716 | warnings: mentions of jack fighting on the ice

welcome post!

y/n’s part of the medical team of the carolina hurricanes. she has a great relationship with the players since it's her job to do check-ups before and after the games.

one fine day, she almost collapses while watching jack getting into a fight with the opponent. the crowd is loud, the guys on the bench are shocked and impressed at the same time. jack dropping the gloves mid game? that's rare. she hates it.

“i don't care if you won, i don't care if it hypes up the crowd, i don't care if it's normal in this sport. are you freaking dumb?”

she's distracted until she notices jack watching her with a smug smile on his face, not even slightly offended by her rant. y/n freezes.

“sorry, shouldn't have gone that far.”

“it's alright, it's a valid worry to have… as someone from the medical team.” jack absolutely knows there's more to it, but he's having fun. she's adorable.

“of course.” she nods. “medical concerns only.”

at home, she starts overthinking about her relationship with jack, wondering if people might be seeing too much. i'm kind and attentive to everyone, right? oh, no, what if they think jack's my favorite? that's awful!

the next day, she goes to work completely self-conscious of her own actions. she greets everyone trying not to be suspicious as she almost sprints to her office. she takes care of the paperwork from the previous day and take notes of what the boss left for her. when practice time arrives, the players come around to do a quick check-up before going to the ice. she has other doctors with her, but somewhere inside she knows jack is going to her cubicle.

he does. jack walks peacefully to his favorite doctor assistant — knowing that there are a few others available —, but what catches him out of guard is how professional she’s acting. well, of course she always does her job correctly, but never this cold, this far — far from him. y/n does every step of the check-up carefully, trusting she’s great at hiding her thoughts from her expressions. they seem to be eating her up inside, that’s why she looks so focused on not messing it up.

“you alright? you look restless,” jack asks, genuinely concerned.

“all great, just got a lot on my plate today,” she replies, eyes on the clipboard with his informations. “good practice, jack. don’t come back here anytime soon.”

y/n turns her back at him to hide her frown, regretting her words. she just needs him to leave so she can breathe properly.

“thought i was your favorite patient.” he tries to lighten the mood. he really doesn’t want it to end that fast, but regrets it a second after, because when their eyes meet, she’s terrified.

“what? nope, no favorites around here. i treat every player equally. have you heard something about it?”

“hey, don’t worry, i was kidding.” jack watches her posture relax. “i promise to do my best only to come here to see you, is that okay?”

y/n freezes. what the hell is going on, right now?

“look, i like talking to you, alright? i’m not a fan of pain and bandages as well, i just don’t mind coming here when i know i’ll be seeing your pretty face.” jack decides to keep talking, afraid you’ll make any assumptions. “and i don’t want you to overthink that i’m giving mixed signs. so, y/n, i’d really like to take you on a date if you allow me.”

“yes. wait.” she covers her mouth then her face in embarrassment. jack softens, his smile grows bigger.

he waits patiently for her. in fact, he’d love to cup her cheeks on his own hands, but that’s hopefully for another day.

“i mean, yeah, it would be nice to go out with you,” she answers, holding a smile as best as she can. “but now i think you should go. wouldn’t wanna mess the queue and get me fired, right?”

he chuckles. there she is, the y/n that got him infatuated.

“of course. see you later, then?”

“don’t even dare getting a scratch on purpose, you hear me?”

“even though you’re adorable when you’re worried?”

“get out of my face right now!”

[lovelyjj]

Concept - JJ introduces reader to the pogues

-💜 Anon

thank you for requesting means the world to me!

—————————

It was finally time for you to meet JJ’s friends. You and JJ have been dating for a couple weeks. JJ could already tell that you were the one. You were his entire world. Some might say you were in the early stages of the relationship, so how could JJ know these things? He felt it, felt it in his bones.

Your relationship with JJ was very important to you. It was going well so far. You were both very happy. It was the afternoon time when you and JJ were relaxing in your room.

Both of you were on your bed. JJ was grazing your thigh in up and down movements with his hand. Your breathing was slow. You were sharing each other’s body heat. Then JJ got to thinking and he realized you’ve never met his friends before.

JJ’s friends were suspicious of you. They knew JJ had someone that was making him happy and lovesick all the time. They just didn’t know who. So they were anxious to meet the new person in JJ’s life.

“Listen baby, I promised I’d go surfing with the gang today but let’s set up a day where you can meet my friends ok?” JJ explained.

“Sure Jayj, have fun see you soon!”

——————

You and JJ decided on Saturday, a couple days after his surfing trip. It was a day all the other Pogues were free. You were nervous because you wanted to make a good first impression.

JJ and the Pogues decided to meet at the château. JJ picked you up and you both made your way to John B’s. You stepped off JJ’s bike and saw a group of people on the porch.

As you walked up the steps hand in hand with JJ, you tried your best to extinguish your nerves.

“Hey look whose here,” a tan boy with wavy hair said who you later found out was John B.

“Hey, bree bree,” JJ responded.

“Um everyone this is Y/N, Y/N this is the Pogues,” JJ announced.

You smiled at everyone and said, “nice to meet you all.”

“I’m Kiara,” a girl from the couch introduced.

“I’m John B, and over there that’s Pope,” John B voiced.

“So your the girl Js obsessed with,” Pope spoke.

“I wouldn’t put it like that but I am his girlfriend,” you shyly explained.

JJ kissed your forehead and then said, “Yep she’s all mine, aren’t I the luckiest guy in the world.”

“Congrats JJ,” John B whistled.

You and JJ got cozy on the couch and started chatting about anything and everything. You liked JJ’s friends. They were hilarious and kind.

“So Y/N, what do you like to do for fun?” John B asked.

“Oh you know party, hang out with JJ, go to the beach, read.”

“What’s it like dating JJ?” Kiara asked with a smirk.

JJ looked at you with heart eyes and then you answered her question. “He’s my best friend and there’s never a dull moment. He’s my everything and more. It’s like having someone who understands you and will always be there for you.”

“Aw that’s so sweet, I think you guys are perfect for each other,” Kiara responded.

“You guys are the best I can see why JJ is so fond of you,” you started.

“Can I tell her?” JJ asked.

The group all nodded and grinned.

“Wanna be a Pogue for life?”

“A what?”

“It’s what we call ourselves,” John B shared.

“It’s the working class that live on the cut, the throwaway fish, the lowest member of the food chain,” JJ expressed.

“It means friendship and trust as well as heart,” Pope began.

You looked at JJ who gave you a nod and then you smiled and said, “It would be my honor.”

[aheathen-conceivably]

Josephine was sitting at the vanity table that Giorgio had restored for her, tracing her hand along the same wood grain that she had when she arrived over two years before. Only her nails weren’t painted any longer; they were bare and chipped, fingers permanently raw from hours of soaking and scrubbing.

She was staring at them intently, like their presence alone was enough to make her feel like she was a different woman than who she thought she had been her whole life. Out of the corner of his eye Giorgio could see that she was lost in thought, a small downturned frown playing on her lips. He barely had time to register just how unlike herself she seemed before she blurted out, “Do you ever think about having children?”

Gio nearly choked on the cigarette he had just lit. There were certain things he had given up on when he fell in love with her, things that he now told himself were for the best. He looked up at her suspiciously, now wary of the traps he knew she could set. The lost look in her eyes was vacillating with something that looked like what, suspicion? Like she didn’t trust him to answer correctly despite his years of acquiescence on the topic.

But as she addressed him through the warped glass, he got the impression that she wasn't actually speaking to him at all, “It would be stupid, you know that, right? Violette would hate it. She could learn to share, I know. But something tells me she wouldn’t. She would only get worse.”

Then she turned to look him dead in the eyes, and he realized he had been right. She was challenging him, even though he had only recently told her that he didn’t mind her near militant precautions against pregnancy any more now than he had in New Orleans. As she spoke her resolve became more palpable and the uncharacteristic insecurity that had been there moments before was replaced by something he was more familiar with: anger. “And Jesus Christ we can barely feed ourselves as it is. It would be stupid. Absolutely stupid. Why would anyone ever think otherwise? It’s a horrible, horrible idea.”

As she finished speaking she continued to stare straight at him, and he had to look away to escape the intensity of her eyes. It was nothing that he didn’t know; she had told him from day one that she would never have children, not for any love in the world. He had been young enough then to want nothing other than her, and over time his feelings had morphed into hers. It was never a dream he had, and it wasn’t as though he had a name he was proud to pass on. He had come here to hide from it, and it had done nothing but convince him that he would have no more sons to pass the name or the horrors onto. 

As he gathered himself to look at her, his eyes cut through the tension that hung in the air like cigarette smoke. Because he had said it all a dozen times before, and that look was all she needed to know that he agreed; not just with her logic, but even to her aversion of having your life taken from you in that way, so that your dreams and your choices were no longer for yourself anymore. They would always have to be made in adherence to someone else, and they could barely do that for each other, much less a child.

He put his lit cigarette in the ashtray the moment she stood to walk nearer. Up close, the challenge in her eyes transformed into something like relief, like she had sated a fear that for however much he might ask her to give, at least he would never ask for that. Or maybe, unbeknowst to him, she had just talked herself off a ledge that he would never know had been an option at all.

She placed her hands on his shoulders, bringing one knee onto the bed beside him and the other one between his legs. His breath caught in his throat as his body responded to the movement, “Are you…sure? I thought we still couldn’t. I — I lost count of the days.”

Her voice took on a soft note of mockery, exactly the way it did when she knew more than the other person, “As you always do.”

He took that to mean that they were once again free to do as they pleased for a few weeks, before the cycle of counting and caution began all over again. Yet even after all this time those days in the center of the month went by the slowest, so he immediately hooked his hand around her hips to pull her down on top of him.

She left one foot on the ground as she gave into his weight, letting him move her robe aside and bring his hands to her thighs. All the while she was sure to remain balanced on the tip of her foot, keeping herself from giving in completely even as she climbed far enough atop of him to let him think that it was fully off the ground.

Then she leaned back onto it, leaving him stranded on the bed as she moved her hand off of his neck, down his shirt front, and just above the button of his pants. She took it between her fingers and kept her eyes on his, silently telling him that she could unhook it without ever looking down, “But I never do; and I don’t make mistakes. So not until I say so, my love. Then, and only then.”

As his smile faded, she trailed her hand back up his shirtfront to his chin, letting it linger on his lips before she bent down to kiss him. He knew better now than to try and pull her down again, or even to bring his hands to her hips as they hovered above him. She moved away and looked down into his eyes as though to say, good boy. Then she walked away back to her well-worn seat at the vanity, leaving him with nothing but his half smoked cigarette and unspent longing.

[legally-allowed-to-slime]

Can’t even lie man I’ve been offline all day and i immediately went to your blog to read your takes on the session and Pearl n gem n co. after watching some wild life. Thanks for having the best takes lol

genuinely, it’s an honour. crazy to me that anyone would come to this blog for good takes, they never make any sense and i’m always suspiciously resentful towards c!scott. i’ll take this opportunity to lay out my gempearl thoughts as well

first of all, it drives me insane the way pearl usually goes along with whatever scott and cleo says, but the only thing she consistently, and has repeatedly, contradicted them on is that she’s been antagonising gem. in fact at the start of the session scott poked her about it again and she laid out a short monologue to assert that his claims were invalid. funnily enough she goes back on this a few seconds later saying that “i’ll make her have a reason to hold that grudge” which honestly is not helping her case. however if gem can make vague threats about impulse i don’t see why pearl can’t do the same. women’s wrongs and all that.

and then after that scott tells impulse and pearl to apologise to gem and joel. again, it’s a bit odd to me how they keep harping on this bit, but every time they do, all they do is scold impulse for rightfully constantly accusing gem over the cows, and then impulse apologises, yet pearl is still implicated (for NOTHING). pearl did protest this point earlier that she was “just existing”, scott counters that “i don’t know what you’ve done but you’ve annoyed her”, so “keep your distance”.

and to think that the argument only happened because scott made a throwaway comment about a “request” he had for pearl if she wanted a life from him. i feel like he meant it as a funny aside and expected pearl to just shut up and take it, but pearl never shuts up and takes it so that’s the problem there.

also, on secret life: pearl argues that she was right to ally with scar, which like, okay, fair enough, but scott says that “it takes time” and that “look we’re together” i’m not sure why he’s under the perception that GGG is in anyway functional or healthy considering he himself is trashtalking impulse and pearl with gem geminitay (ok sorry i’m just salty over him being buddy buddy with gem). at one point cleo goes “we have to be enablers” (lowkey incorrect because pearl hasn’t done anything, you can’t enable someone to just do nothing, but i appreciate the sentiment) and pearl just starts. throwing eggs at the ground. really funny out of context.

now for the actual gempearl interaction (we get like one and a half per episode i’m actually starving). they’re so obsessed with each other. trust me i said so. pearl beelining to gem to say “hi gem! :D” and gem beelining to pearl to punch her and say “go home pearl” oh they make me ill i feel like they’re just constantly on each other’s minds. the problem is that we haven’t gotten a good gempearl interaction because when they’re near each other their allies are also hanging around, so it always ends up with gem getting glazed by scott or pearl getting distracted by bigb or something like that. it’s such a pity because gem specifically went to find the 4Gs’ base but she went to the old one instead of the new one where pearl was hanging around so we could have potentially gotten a 1 on 1 shiny duo interaction this session (i’m not sure about the timeline there) but we DIDN’T because gem’s not talked to the 4Gs enough to know that they moved bases. grrr.

and then gem drops the anger for a bit to encourage pearl to kill grian. i have NO idea what that’s about, i feel like she’s just into bloodthirst in general but what it does remind me of is her trying to convince pearl to kill the ender dragon in SL, coincidentally, when pearl was impulse’s butler. and now she’s encouraging pearl to carry out what impulse wants. i don’t know. maybe her type is murderers and she’s trying to give pearl a chance. or something

anyway as for the other half an interaction where gem finds etho pearl and cleo at her base, gem reverts back to loudly disparaging pearl within earshot. i feel like she’s nailed “ex who really wants you to know that you’re exes”, and pearl getting so indignant about it she can’t even form a sentence for a few seconds is great actually. might be a reach but whether on hermitcraft or life series, pearl tends to stumble over her words a lot when directly challenged by gem, which is probably just because she’s thinking hard on what to say and is sleep deprived half the time. but i find it pretty telling that pearl doesn’t say anything back to gem and just. leaves. it’s very obvious she’s still down bad for gem in a way but gem is intentionally making it very hard for pearl to remain so.

last paragraph. when joel visits pearl at their new base, joel is happy that pearl called his build a car and said she liked it (pearl likes cars fork found in kitchen). so joel and pearl are on good terms, which i expect would lead to interesting dynamics but at the same time joel would definitely follow gem’s lead over maintain that friendship but still his perception of pearl now is positive. so that’s intriguing

song of the day is down bad by taylor swift. trust me guys they want each other so bad

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

aita for trying to play matchmaker? for context, this all happened months ago but is coming back now. about halfway through my (18F) senior year of high school, my friend L (also 18F) started crushing on a boy she sat with in math class (18M). she only admitted it to me and the rest of our friend group after we begged her to tell us who she liked for weeks, but in hindsight, it was sort of obvious she really likes him. i have a lot of candid pics on my phone of her glancing over at him during class when she wasn't paying attention but that's beside the point. she wasn't making any moves at all to let him know how she felt and start going out with him, so after a while, we decided to give her a little push. we encouraged her, made subtle hints towards him that someone in class had a crush on him, and when that still wasn't enough, i wrote a love letter for her to sign and give to him. it was easy. prom was a couple of months away by that point and if she was going to struggle so hard to find the words, it made sense for her to just give him a note telling him what she wanted to say. but still, L was stubborn and continued to claim that she wasn't interested in dating at all. apparently she didn't like him *that* much and she was happy just being friends with him (not very convincing when she was constantly making googly eyes at him). she's always been shy, though, and if she doesn't get out of her shell, she's never going to survive in college. for more motivation, i gave her a time limit: if she didn't sign her love letter and give it to him within two weeks, i was going to go up to him and tell him that she liked him. the time game and on the final day, she told me she did it. i trusted her even though she was acting suspicious (barely speaking to him, practically running out of the class they shared together that day, avoiding the friend group for most of the day) but i found out after talking to him later that she lied to me and actually threw the note away. when i confronted her the next day, she apologized and told me that she was terrified i would actually tell him about her crush (i was joking about that, and it hurt that she didn't trust me). out of spite, she ended up asking out one of her childhood friends to prom as her platonic date just so she could say "oh no, sorry, but i already have a date" whenever we tried to help her get with her crush in the future. prom and graduation passed, and the two of them haven't talked much since. i thought this whole situation was over with, but recently, L has been avoiding all of us and makes excuses to not hang out with us. we only have so much time together before she moves out of state for college, so i got a mutual friend to check on her and see what's up. apparently, L's still holding a grudge about how we tried to set her up with the boy. she claims that she was so stressed out for all of senior year that she started getting constant nightmares because of us, and she's upset we never respected her boundaries. however, i think that she's overexaggerating. if it was that serious, she knows that she can always just talk to us instead of keeping it all in so she can make me out to be the bad guy to other people. besides, we were doing what was best for her. he was the first guy she's ever had a crush on, and L has a history of letting her shyness get the better of her. i didn't want her to miss out on this opportunity to be happy, and if she just took our advice instead of acting childish, i'm sure she would have thanked us. i reached out to tell her i'm sorry if she thought i was being too pushy, but it's been days and she still hasn't replied to me. aita?

What are these acronyms?