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writingonleaves · 6 months ago

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don't wanna scrape you off the pavement (i can't be your savior) - jack hughes

pairing: jack hughes x original female character (reckless driving au)

warnings: swearing, angst, fluff, hopeful ending (bc its me), possibly inaccurate dynamics of the 2020 - 2024 umich hockey squads but i tried, some biphobia (not from any main characters), an awful lot of talking about michigan for someone who’s never been there (the college or the state)

inspired by + title: "reckless driving" by lizzy mcalpine and ben kessler

word count: 23.7k

author's note: after about 7 months in the making, it’s Finally here lol. this piece means a lot to me, and not only because it took so long. a labor of love, if you will. i'm very proud of it, so i sincerely hope you all enjoy it as much as i loved writing it! please do let me know your thoughts <3 takes place the summer of 2024

~*~*~

day one - amelie

Amelie Fishel has a love-hate relationship with the state of Michigan.

She loves it enough that she stayed in the state she was born and raised in for college. But even she knew she would’ve been an idiot if she denied the offer four years ago when University of Michigan offered her an academic scholarship that ended up covering her full tuition. She enjoyed her time at college enough, making a smattering of friends that she really does want to keep in contact with for the rest of her life and developing a solid foundation academically with various experiences that will hopefully help her out to get her dream job, which is on the horizon.

It’s a dream job because it falls in line with what she enjoys doing. But it’s also a dream job because it’s taking her the fuck out of this state. That’s the only request she’s had when trying to close in on an NHL photographer offer — it can be in any state except for Michigan.

But despite her feeling that she’s outgrown this state, she’s sticking around for one more summer. One more summer of no internships or responsibilities before she has to be a working adult for the rest of her life. A few more months to enjoy the few perks this state does have before getting to leave.

Currently, she’s sitting in the backyard of her grandparents’ new lakehouse. It’s admittedly beautiful and in a wonderful location that offers the tranquility that they’ve been searching for. The lake in their backyard glistens under the sun and the sunsets are stunning.

It’s a hot day in mid-July and she spent her first full day catching up with her grandparents in the backyard. After she had graduated, she splurged on a trip to Europe with some friends that definitely made a dent in her bank account. When she voiced getting a job for the summer, her parents and grandparents immediately said no. Enjoy the summer, they said.

After dinner, when the sun’s rays are barely peeking out, she volunteers to walk Susie, her grandparents’ golden retriever that is far too energetic for Amelie’s liking. Amelie grabs the leash, beckons Susie over, and they’re on their way to a walk around the neighborhood.

She forgoes her Airpods for whatever reason and shoves both her hands in her sweatshirt, walking leisurely behind Susie. She’s so lost in her own head that she almost misses the sound of her own name.

“Amelie?”

She blinks, stopping at the end of someone’s driveway. Susie trots happily to the guy who’s holding his hand out to pet her. “Luke?”

“Yeah,” Luke clears his throat and bends down slightly to pet Susie, who is loving the attention. “Hey buddy. What’s your name?”

“This is Susie.”

Luke chuckles as Susie’s tail wags crazily. “Hey girly. What a cutie.”

Amelie gently tugs the leash. “Easy, Suz. We don’t wanna kill him.”

She watches for a few seconds as Luke keeps petting her. Yankees hat atop his head and wearing a white t-shirt and swim trunks, it’s been over a year since Amelie’s seen Luke Hughes. The last time she saw him was after the devastating loss against Quinnipiac at the Frozen Four. He had jetted out to Boston that night, but not without giving Amelie an unexpected but genuine hug goodbye.

As a photographer for the Michigan Athletic Department during her entire college career, she became at friendly with many athletes, especially the guys on the men’s hockey team, since her boss put her on assignment with them a good amount. But she hadn’t expected Luke to remember her or recognize her.

“You live around here?” Luke asks, standing back up as Susie calms down.

“My grandparents just bought a place a few houses down and I just got here. You live here?”

“Kinda,” he gestures to the house behind him. “My brothers bought this place a few years back.”

“Small world,” she remarks.

He nods with a small smile. “It sure is.”

“Who’s your friend, Moose?”

She turns her head to the open garage to see a shorter, tanner version of Luke. This guy is wearing a black t-shirt with sweatpants, his hair less curlier than Luke’s. He must be one of his brothers, and even if Luke didn’t just tell her it was his brothers’ place, she would’ve put it together. They both have the same half-smile.

He’s also beautiful. Almost annoyingly so.

(If her sisters were here, they’d immediately point out that Jack is exactly her type. Well, Charlotte would point out that he smiles similarly to Cooper and Colette would immediately scold Charlotte.)

The guy walks over and Susie gets excited at a new presence. He also bends down to pet her. “This is Amelie,” Luke says. “She photographed a lot of the games back at Michigan.” He turns back to Amelie. “Did you just graduate? Or do you have one year left?”

“I just graduated.”

“Congratulations,” the guy stands up and sticks out his hand. “I’m Jack. Luke’s brother. Well, one of them.”

She shakes his hand with a polite smile. “It’s nice to meet you, Jack. And thank you.”

“You said you’re gonna be here for the summer?” Luke asks.

“Most of it, yeah.”

“Where do you live?” Jack asks.

“My grandparents are a few houses down. 118.”

Jack perks up. “Stanley and Ruth are your grandparents?”

“Yeah,” she narrows her eyes. “How do you know them?”

“They ran into our parents golfing last week. And I’ve waved at them a few times driving down the street.”

“That sounds about right,” she chuckles. “They love their golf and they love sitting on the front porch.”

Luke straightens up, and with Amelie’s previous interactions with him, that means that he’s about to suggest either a great or horrendous idea. “You should come over for dinner this week. You and your grandparents. Our parents are still here for a few days and we’re going a bit stir-crazy with each other, I think.”

So it’s a horrendous idea this time. She immediately tries to deny the offer politely. “Oh no, that’s okay. I wouldn’t wanna intrude your-”

“We’d love to have you. And your grandparents,” Jack says with an air of finality. “And I know our parents would say the same. They’re sick of also just having us around.”

“I still have your number from when you used to send me pictures after games,” Luke says. “I’ll text you details and we’ll find a time that works?”

“Okay,” she says after a few seconds. As if Susie understands, she barks.

Jack gives her one last pet with a grin. “This floofer’s welcome as well.”

After one last smile, she and Susie are on their way as the brothers head back into the house. Once they’re out of earshot, she sighs.

She has no idea how she feels about this.

day three - jack

Jack Hughes is convinced he’s going insane.

Well, that’s not exactly true. He’s perfectly fine, great, even. Recovery is going well. He’s back with his family in one of his favorite places in the world. Even in July, the season still seems so far away. Some days he itches to get back to The Rock in front of the fans. But most of the time, he’s enjoying his off-season rehab and training, being on the water and being on the golf course.

But Amelie – which first of all, an incredibly beautiful name — and her just as beautiful dog Susie have been at the back of his mind for two days straight now. That’s weird. Jack doesn’t usually think about girls like this, especially girls he’s barely met.

All he’s gotten from Luke so far is that she’s a year older than him, which makes her a year younger than Jack, she photographed a bunch of the Michigan games during Luke’s two years there and she’s a bit quieter than some of the social media team’s counterparts Luke knows she worked with.

And she’s so, so cute. But Luke didn’t tell him that one.

A few hours before she’s supposed to come over with her grandparents, Jack’s lounging on the boat, as Quinn, who’s in the driver's seat, and Luke are talking about…something. But he’s deeply focused on his phone, trying to do what every Gen Z person does when they see someone cute. Find their Instagram. The fact that he’s held off for over 48 hours is already impressive.

He finds it relatively easily, as some of Luke’s former teammates who Jack follows follow her, and Amelie isn’t a common name. She’s private, but linked in her bio is her photography account, which is public. While there’s no pictures of her on there, it proves to him that she’s an insanely good photographer. Not just hockey, either. There are some beautiful shots of divers, gymnasts, soccer players, etc. You name the sport, it seems like Amelie’s photographed it.

“Whatcha lookin’ at?” Quinn asks.

Jack quickly locks his phone. “Nothing.”

Luke, like the pest he is, narrows his eyes. “Sure.”

“Don’t make me push you into the water, Moose.”

An empty threat, Jack knows, but he starts leaning forward and Luke yelps. “Quinn!”

Quinn rolls his eyes, “You’re both annoying. We gotta head back though. I wanna shower before dinner.”

Dinner. Right. Amelie. Coming into him and Quinn’s home. Great.

Something must change on his face, because a shit-eating grin grows on Luke’s face. “Oh. That’s what this is about.”

“What?” Jack feigns cluelessness.

“Amelie’s pretty, isn’t she?” Luke says. Jack just shoves him and Quinn chuckles, catching up.

“If you think she’s pretty, why didn’t you make your move first?” Jack retorts back. “You had two years.”

Luke shrugs. “Just because she’s pretty doesn’t mean I’m interested. She’s cool though. Way too cool for you.”

“Is that a challenge?”

Luke rolls his eyes, “For once, no.”

“Was she friends with the guys?” Quinn asks. And Jack’s silently grateful that he doesn’t have to be the one to dig for more information.

“I don’t know if I would say friends, but definitely very friendly with everyone,” Luke says. “I think she was a TA in one of Rut and Adam’s classes or something. She seemed to get along with them the best. And I feel like she had a soft spot for Eddy, for some reason. I think it’s that thing where we just all are around each other all the time and the more we saw of her at the rink, the more we got to know her.”

Huh. Interesting. He doesn’t know anything about Rutger McGroarty except that he went to the program a few years after Jack did and was drafted to the Jets. Ethan Edwards is one of Luke’s closest friends from Michigan and could be signing with the Devils organization this upcoming season, and Jack likes him. Adam Fantilli trains with the guys in the summer so Jack’s gotten to know him decently well. That one might say the most.

Luke gives him a pointed look. “I’m serious. Don’t mess with her. She’s too nice for that. And she can put you in your place.”

And Jack’s downright offended that Luke would even insinuate something like that. But as Quinn guides them home, he thinks. Luke’s never given an opinion on any girl Jack’s dated or had a thing with. He’s spoken maybe three sentences to Amelie, didn’t even directly express his interest and Luke is already all up in his ass.

He hears when Amelie arrives hours later, Susie barking and the sounds of Stanley and Ruth talking with his parents. He tries to be nonchalant as they all come out into the backyard, when he sees her conversing with Luke, instead making himself busy by introducing himself to Stanley and Ruth.

But her pink linen pants match her headband and her smile is dripping with gold and Jack is going insane.

They have dinner outside surrounded by the sound of the rippling lake, the view of a cotton-candy sunset, the feel of light breeze and the warmth of easy laughter. Jack sneaks a few small pieces of chicken to Susie and Amelie catches him, glaring at him from across the table. Jack just smirks as she rolls her eyes, chomping away at her corn and tuning into whatever conversation is going on.

His parents ask about her background and her time at Michigan and he can’t help but smile when she talks about her double degree — communications and design — and how going to an activities fair turned into working as a photographer for the athletics department. She talks about her first time photographing a hockey game and how hockey is the fastest and in a way, hardest sport she’s ever photographed. But it’s become her favorite. That puts a smile on the faces of the entire Hughes family.

She gets asked what her plans are post-grad, and she just breezes through it casually, saying that she’s been talking to US Soccer and the NHL but nothing finalized yet. She says it so casually that Jack’s almost in awe.

Jack never believed in love at first sight, and still doesn’t, thank you very much, but the sound of Amelie’s laughter has him feeling so nervous and stupid and ridiculous.

Whatever. He’ll unpack this later.

day six - amelie

Amelie’s cameras and her camera equipment are her babies, which, duh, considering her passion and career. Which means she’s very excited to take out the vintage 35 MM film camera she got for a graduation gift from her parents.

After lunch, she takes one of the many outdoor chairs her grandparents have, plopping herself decently close to the lake to fiddle with some of the settings. She has her trusted DSLR camera next to her as well, the sounds of the birds and a Michigan summer her soundtrack. One of her neighbors must be playing the guitar outside and Amelie finds herself at peace.

The peace is slowly shattered as she hears a motor coming from the lake. She rolls her eyes to herself. Fucking boats and boatowners who think they’re the shit.

She does point her camera towards the boat though. It’s a cool shot.

She doesn’t realize it’s slowing down until it practically stops. She squints and sees someone waving their hand maniacally. She tentatively walks a bit towards the lake.

“Luke?”

He nods enthusiastically and Amelie kinda finds it endearing. She quickly takes note of Quinn at the helm and sees Jack’s head popping up from behind Quinn. The boat slows to a stop and she comes to the edge of the lake.

“Morning. Or afternoon, I guess.”

“Hey,” Jack says with a friendly smile. “What are you up to?”

She holds her camera. “Testing this out. I actually just got a pretty cool shot of the boat.”

“Is that a special kind of camera?” Quinn asks.

She nods. “Mmhmm. It’s a vintage 35 millimeter film camera, which is the exact opposite of what you want when photographing any sport. What are you guys up to today?”

Luke shrugs. “The usual. Probably gonna be on the boat for a few hours.” He lights up. “Do you wanna come on?”

She opens her mouth to say something but Jack pushes on before she can get a word out. “Yeah, come on!”

“If you don’t already have plans, that is,” Quinn adds.

She closes her mouth and thinks. She doesn’t have plans today and hasn’t ever been on a boat. Plus, even though she partially chose to spend time out here to reflect on herself and be by herself, she knows it’s good for her to be talking with people that aren’t her grandparents. And, they’ve been nothing but nice to her so far.

“On a few conditions.”

Jack tilts his head. “Which are?”

“I don’t have to get in the water and I get to bring my cameras.”

“Deal,” Jack says quickly.

Amelie gives a close-lipped smile. “Give me two minutes.” She sets her cameras down carefully by the chair side and jogs back into the house. She grabs her favorite Michigan crewneck in case it gets cold and grabs her tote bag which has sunscreen, sunglasses, her keys and wallet. When she comes back out, the boat is docked as close to the edge as possible. Without hesitation, Amelie takes off her flip-flops, wades into the water and hands Luke her bag and cameras carefully before Jack pulls her up into the boat.

She wobbles a bit and Jack’s hands hover behind her back in case she falls. “You ever been on a boat?”

“Not in awhile,” she says, settling down in a seat next to Luke. “I prefer having my feet on the ground.”

Luke’s eyebrows furrow. “You can swim, right?”

“What?” Amelie jokes quietly. “Are you planning on pushing me in?”

“No one is getting pushed in,” Quinn assures, sending a light glare at his two brothers as he starts steering them deeper into the lake. “Especially with those expensive cameras on board.”

“Are you really the one responsible for every photo of Luke playing hockey taken at Michigan?” Jack asks.

She blinks, absolutely taken aback. “Not every photo, I’d say.”

“Definitely a good amount though,” Luke says. “I feel like you were always at every game.”

She shrugs, “Well, my boss started putting me on hockey more because I’m pretty sure I was the only one who could do it well.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Hey, it’s a tough sport to photograph. It’s fast and unpredictable and you have to have a sense of where the puck is going before it gets there.”

Amelie internally cringes at that last part. She sounds like a coach.

“Did you like hockey before?” Quinn asks.

“Not really, to be honest. The first game I ever watched was at Michigan when I was shadowing.”

“You must’ve figured out pretty quickly where the puck will go, then, if you didn’t know much about hockey before,” Jack says with something like respect in his eyes.

Amelie smiles. “I guess.”

Quinn nods to the film camera that Amelie had picked up the second she got on the boat. “Can we see the picture you took of the boat?”

“I wish. I’m gonna get the film developed at the end of the summer and that’ll take a few weeks.” Quinn hums in understanding. She takes out her regular camera and pops off the lens cap, shoving it in her back. Luke’s eyes light up in recognition and she can’t help but chuckle. “You recognize this one?”

“How could I not?”

She points it at three of them. “Smile. All of you.” She snaps a couple before putting down her camera and playfully glaring at them. “Geez. At least act like you guys like each other.” She looks quickly at the photo with a satisfied nod, before turning her camera towards the brothers so they can see.

They continue chatting, talking about various things from Michigan (the state and the school) to one of their cousins who just got engaged to where Amelie’s parents are (they also live in Michigan, though further south, but are currently visiting family in France that Amelie had seen last year when she studied abroad in France) to the upcoming season. Amelie mostly keeps quiet on that front, because she doesn’t need to let them know that she got a call yesterday with news that the NHL is closing in on a job offer that will determine where she spends the next few years.

The thought that she could be seeing these three multiple times throughout the season when she’s currently on their boat right now is just downright weird. She just met Quinn and Jack six days ago. She hasn’t seen Luke in two years.

This whole thing is just weird.

But whenever she feels too much in her own head, she just picks up her camera and points it at one of them or out at the lake, fiddling with lighting and focus settings. Sometimes she forgets that photography isn’t just going to be her career and that she can love it differently with no pressure and in a different light, no pun intended.

With time, she gets more comfortable, sunglasses perched on her nose, chin tucked on her knees and laughter flowing out lighter and easier. It’s easier to pick up her camera when they start taking turns wakesurfing, her eyes widening when Jack jokingly tries to drag her out, and she’s either semi-impressed at their ability to make it look easy or laughing her ass off when they flail and fall.

As she’s shutting off her camera — contrary to popular belief, she does need to put it away after a certain amount of time — Jack plops down next to her. Quinn and Luke are entranced in their own conversation towards the front.

Jack runs a hand through his damp hair, “Do you mind handing me my shirt next to you?”

She hands it over with a weary look. “It’s boiling out.”

“Oh, so you want me to keep my shirt off.”

The smirk on his face has Amelie rolling her eyes. Boys. “You’re gonna wanna take it off again in like, 5 minutes. I just think you’re being dumb.”

Jack puts a hand over his heart in mock offense. “Ouch. That might be the harshest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“I met you six days ago.”

“And my point still stands.” She scrunches her nose a bit when Jack shakes out his hair and some water droplets land on her. He just smiles that half-smile that she’s not sure if she likes or hates. “Are you sure you don’t wanna get in the water?”

“I’m not wearing a bathing suit. And even then, I’m not a huge fan of being in the water.”

“Well, then, what are you a huge fan of? Besides being behind the camera.”

She tilts her head so that it’s leaning against her seat, turning to face him completely. “I used to dance competitively and continued dancing a bit in college. I read a lot. At school, I used to love just camping out at a cafe for hours for the vibes.” She shrugs. “Nothing much else though.”

He nods, before looking at the cameras in her bag. “Why photography?”

She smiles, like she always does when talking about photography. “Taking photos is really cool, I think, because you’re the middle man. You frame the story. And if you frame it well, people will look at the photo and know exactly what’s going on. With sports, it’s all about the timing and the moment. You can write an article describing a game with quotes from the players or whatever, and no disrespect to that. I have a good amount of friends who are journalists. But photo is different, because you can see it, you know?”

Jack nods. “I think I get what you mean. You got a boyfriend waiting for you somewhere? Or a significant other?”

Her eyes widen and a sharp laugh erupts out of her. That’s random. “What?”

Jack just shrugs like he didn’t just completely throw her off. “It’s a valid question, no? Don’t wanna assume or give off an unwanted vibe if we’re gonna be hanging out all summer.”

“Well, uh, no. No boyfriend or partner of any sort like that.”

“Really?”

“I don’t know why that surprises you.”

“Because you’re pretty. Nice. Talented, clearly. Surely the guys and gals and pals at Michigan aren’t stupid enough to turn you down.”

She bypasses all the compliments because that’s too much to think about right now, instead focusing on the latter half of his sentence. She wraps her arms around her legs to clasp her fingers together. “I dated a girl for a bit freshman year. Nothing happened. It just fizzled out. We’re still decent friends. And then I dated this guy for about a year. But that fell to shit pretty extraordinarily.”

“Most of them do, don’t they?”

Amelie unintentionally chuckles. “Oh yeah? And what about you? How’s your love life looking?”

Jack looks out into the distance, breaking eye contact for the first time this whole conversation. “Was in a relationship around two years ago. It didn’t work out because of distance. Nothing much since then.”

Amelie highly doubts that, but she keeps her mouth shut, leaving it alone. “Fair enough.

“So why Michigan? Anything in particular draw you in?”

“Well, I think Michigan is on anyone’s radar who grew up in this state,” she twists her ring around. “And then, uh, when I got offered a full ride, I knew I would’ve been an idiot to turn that down.”

His eyebrows shoot up his forehead. “A full ride? You serious?”

“Yeah. Academic scholarship.”

He lets out a low whistle. “Jesus. You’re smart smart. Even I know full academic scholarships aren’t given out easily.” Amelie ducks her chin down. She can feel herself blushing and she hates it. “Was it your first choice? Going to Michigan?”

“No,” she admits softly. And she knows she’s talking to someone who may not have gone there, but who might as well have. He might love the college more than she does and she’s the one who actually is an alum. “NYU was my top choice. And I got accepted, but I couldn’t afford it.”

He nods, and then Quinn asks Jack to take over so he can go on the water and the moment passes. She does move closer to the front partially so she’s under the sun again, mostly so she can be closer to everyone. Luke tosses her a bottle of water and she chugs a good half of it, shooting him a thankful smile.

Amelie’s missed this, to be honest. Despite deeply cherishing her alone time, she’s always enjoyed being around a small group of people, observing them and their dynamics to evaluate what kind of people they are. It reminds her of when she used to tag along with her two older sisters and their friends.

And these three are easy-going. They don’t allow Amelie to get in her head because they’re always talking about something and asking for her two cents. In Amelie’s 22 years of life, she’s become quick to notice if people are being nice to be nice or being nice to be kind.

The Hughes brothers are being nice to be kind. And Amelie hates herself a bit for thinking it would be the other.

She sits back and relishes in their company.

day seven - jack

Jack’s had a great day.

Practice this morning went well, he beat Quinn at ping pong (though that’s not hard to do) and the three brothers have confirmed who’s coming to the lakehouse in a few days after they’re back from their mini trip to visit their grandma for her 90th. There’s gonna be quite a few of the guys and Jack’s pumped. He always likes combining different groups of friends.

After dinner, he’s feeling a bit restless, so he decides to go out on a drive. Maybe he’ll grab some ice cream, though if he comes back with ice cream and none for Luke or Quinn, they’re gonna bitch about it. He puts on his summer playlist, which is filled with country, and rolls down the windows before backing out.

He’s probably driving too fast for what’s acceptable in a residential neighborhood, so it’s at the last moment does he stop when he recognizes Amelie in front of her grandparents’ place walking Susie. He slows down, and she looks behind her as he rolls up.

He leans his head out of his window just as he hears her say, “Hey Char, I’ll call you tomorrow, okay? Yeah. Bye. Love you.” She takes her phone away from her ear and shoots him a small smile. “Hey Jack.”

“Hi. Was that one of your sisters?”

“Yeah, that was Char. Or Charlotte I guess. The middle one.”

Susie paws up to the window and he scratches her head. “Hey cutie. You’re such a good girl, aren’t you?”

“She’s been off the rails the whole day, so she actually hasn’t been.” Amelie says dryly, making him snort.

“You up to anything right now?”

She narrows her eyes. “Why?”

He nods to his car, “Get in.”

“You sure?”

“Of course.”

“Gimme a second to let Susie back in. Pull into the driveway.” Jack obeys, idling the engine and unlocking the doors as he waits for Amelie to come back.

While he’s waiting, he thinks back to yesterday, being on the boat for hours with Amelie, learning more about her. Jack’s been told that he can be pretty excitable and eager, which is probably how he has acquired so many friends throughout his life. But, despite what a lot of people may think, he isn’t that stupid. He’s been around Amelie the last week enough to know that she’s a tougher nut to crack. And he knows there’s more to her than what she’s shown so far.

So he’ll take every chance, every moment, to get to know her better. Because September will come around sooner than he thinks. It always does.

She comes back out and climbs into the passenger seat, buckling her seatbelt as he backs out of the driveway. She’s thrown on a Michigan Hockey sweatshirt over herself, settling her small bag on her lap. “You’re not gonna kidnap me and bury me in the woods, are you?” She asks.

Jack turns down his music with a chuckle. “No. I don’t have the brainpower for that. Have you eaten?”

“Yeah.”

He nods, starting to navigate them towards his favorite ice cream place around here. “Where’d you get the sweatshirt?”

She looks down at herself, as if she didn’t realize what she threw on. “Oh. I don’t remember, to be honest. Either it was given to me or one of the guys let me borrow it and I never gave it back.”

“Luke mentioned you were a TA in some of the guys’ classes?”

She leans back in the seat, leaning her head on the seatbelt so that she’s facing him. “Yeah. I was a TA my junior year for one of Adam, Rutger and Gavin’s classes. Senior year Luca and Nick, who I think came in after Luke left so you might not know him, took the class.”

“Were they good students?”

Amelie snorts. “Good enough. Though one time Rut tried to bribe me into extending an assignment since they had a big game away that weekend — I think it was Ohio State. I also had to go on that trip and I had to grade all of their stuff plus deal with my own classes, so I told him, in polite words, to fuck off and submit his fucking paper on time.”

Jack laughs. He can picture it in his head, Rutger with his good looks and childish smile turning on the charm to 100 to a skeptical Amelie, bored but amused eyes as she watches him plead his side. Maybe she’s wearing a headband. Maybe she’s not.

(She’s wearing one right now. A tiny white one that you’d miss if you weren’t looking)

“Those boys…were they good?”

“You’re the hockey player. Shouldn’t you know?”

“No. I mean, like, were they good to you? Nice to you? Because if they were dickheads…”

“No!” Amelie is quick to assure him. “They were great. Honestly. During my entire four years working with the team, I never really had a problem with any of the guys. And I can’t say that about every team I had to photograph.”

“Oh?” Jack sneaks a look over to her as she’s looking at her hands.

“Yeah.”

Jack wants to dig, but he doesn’t. He just doesn’t like the idea that people could be outwardly rude to Amelie when she’s just doing her job. He doesn’t like the idea that people could be outwardly rude to Amelie at all.

They climb out of the car and he locks it with a click as they walk side by side to the counter to order. He smiles to himself as he lags behind a few steps, watching her bounce on her toes to try and see the flavor options.

His attention is brought back into the moment as he feels Amelie tug the sleeve of his sweatshirt. “Is the Chocolate Delight good?”

“That’s Quinn’s favorite. It’s super chocolatey.”

“Perfect.” They both step up to the window. Jack orders himself a small Strawberry Cheesecake in a cup. Amelie orders a small Chocolate Delight in a cup and before the girl at the window can even finish listing out the total price, Jack practically shoves his credit card into her hand.

Amelie gives him a scathing look. “Jack. Come on. You didn’t even give me a chance.”

“Precisely.” Her glare stays on her face. “It’s not a big deal. My treat for kidnapping you on our boat yesterday and kidnapping you tonight.”

“So you are kidnapping me,” she says, referring to her earlier comment. She relaxes and Jack calls it a win as they’re given their ice creams. They snag a high-top table that’s a bit away from the other crowded tables. He watches as she digs in, a small satisfied smile on her face, turning sideways to look at the sunset.

He’s not the photographer, but he wishes he could take a picture of her right now.

They eat their ice cream in relatively comfortable silence, and he feels satisfied when he plays with her foot under the table and it causes her to chuckle. She does kick him back hard enough to make him flinch though.

20 minutes later, they’re sitting in the back of Jack’s car at a lake lookout catching the last streaks of the sunset when he pipes up. “Colette. Charlotte. Amelie. Very French.”

“Well, that’s what happens when your mother is French.”

“What do they do?”

“Col’s doing some cool stuff with fashion merchandising in New York. Just got engaged and getting married sometime next year. Char’s at Stanford getting her PhD in…something that involves physics and is over my head.”

Jack chuckles. “I feel that. My sister’s doing her residency at NYU and no matter how hard I want to understand, when she gets on her tangents, I can never follow.”

Amelie’s eyebrows furrow. “Sister?”

“Oh, well, not actually. It’s Clementine. One of us must’ve mentioned her yesterday,” Jack says. “She’s not my sister by blood, but our parents have been best friends since forever and we all grew up together, so she might as well be. Went to UCLA and then, also Stanford, actually. So for eight years, I didn’t really get to see her that often.” Jack digs out his phone and flickers through his photos before clicking on the one his mom took of him, Quinn, Luke and Clementine in New Hampshire earlier in the summer.

“She’s pretty,” Amelie remarks softly.

Jack smiles. “I don’t think I’d be the same if I didn’t have her growing up. We actually live together in Jersey now. Me, her and Luke. It’s a fun time, even if she pretends it’s not.”

“She’s doing her residency, you said?”

“Yeah,” he takes his phone back. “This I do know. Combined residency with pediatrics and the ER. Just finished her first year out of five.”

Amelie whistles. “Good for her. So she’ll be in New York and Jersey for the near future?”

“Yup,” Jack’s smile seems to always be permanent on his face when talking about Clementine. “Though now she’s dating Hisch so that’s a whole thing.”

“She’s dating your captain?” Amelie chuckles, eyebrows raised in amusement. “I sure hope you like him.”

“I love Nico,” he defends himself. “I was rooting for them to get together. They were tiptoeing around each other all of last season. But now that they’re actually dating I just like being a bitch about it to give them a hard time.”

Amelie shoves her hands in her sweatshirt. “That’s what siblings do.”

“I can’t imagine you being a bitch to your sisters’ significant others they’ve brought home.”

She shrugs, “I don’t think I am. I’ve been told I can be a bit closed-off when you first meet me though.”

“Hey. Nothing wrong with taking time to feel people out.”

“Some people don’t have the patience for that, though.”

“For what?”

“I don’t know. A lot of people just assume people who aren’t outwardly charismatic aren’t worth their time.”

Jack blinks, thinking about her words over and over again like a broken record. “Well, then they’re missing out.”

She looks at him and he’s momentarily distracted by the way her white headband creates a sort of halo around her. She lets out a small smile. Jack wants to frame it and put it on the wall of his room back in Jersey. She chuckles, and Jack feels defensive all of a sudden.

“What?” He asks, trying not to sound indignant.

“Nothing, it’s just…I don’t know. That’s such an interesting thing coming from someone who I imagine is exactly just that.”

“Just what?” He’s not doing a great job today at keeping track of where a conversation goes.

She huffs. “Outwardly charismatic. You’re telling me you’re not?”

Jack’s hands suddenly start to sweat. “I mean, I guess. But that doesn’t come easy to everyone. I still don’t think it comes easy to me. I’ve just been forced to be okay at it because of what I do.”

She starts swatting at bugs so they hop out of the trunk and start driving back. She doesn’t miss a beat in their conversation. “That’s another reason why I love photography. No one expects anything out of me or pays attention to me.”

Jack can’t help but laugh, thinking back to his rookie year and all the damn expectations that were placed on him that he didn’t surpass. It’s water under the bridge now, but he would be lying if he said that he doesn’t think about it once in awhile, especially when the draft bust comments come back after a stretch of bad games.

“I don’t know what that’s like, having no one expect anything out of me,” he admits, carefully pulling out on the main road.

“Do you like that? Having a chip on your shoulder?”

“Yeah, in a way. Definitely lights a fire under your ass and motivates you. But, I don’t know, it can get to be a lot, I guess. But I’m used to it. People have been expecting things out of me since I was 16. Younger, even.”

Amelie hums, adjusting her headband. “Must be a lonely place to be at times.”

“Where?”

“The top.”

Jack mulls over her words in his brain. Once. Twice. A third time. He clears his throat. “I’ve never thought about it like that.”

When he’s about to sleep that night, he replays their conversations in his head until he finally drifts off.

day twelve - amelie

Amelie’s a bit glad to have had a few days away from Jack — from any of the Hughes brothers — as they went on a mini trip to Canton to celebrate their grandmother’s birthday. She’s been filling her time by taking walks with Susie, tagging along to help Ruth with groceries and humoring Stanley when he wants to go sit at his favorite diner for hours to talk. Retirement’s pretty nice, Amelie thinks, but even she’s starting to get a bit restless.

So when she gets a text from Jack after finishing her morning coffee — she forgets when they exchanged numbers or if they ever even did. Luke could’ve given it to him — she’s actually excited.

Weird. When’s the last time Amelie has felt excited to get a text?

Jack Hughes

amelie my amelie

we just got back last night

and a bunch of your boys are here for a few days

you should come by and say hi

Amelie furrows her eyebrows as she responds.

Amelie Fishel

my boys?

Jack Hughes

beniers, briss, blankenburg, fants, brindley and eddy

i might be leaving someone out but you get it

Amelie blinks. She hasn’t heard some of those names in years. And they’re just all over the house right now?

Hockey players are weird. Their friendships and circles and how they overlap are even weirder.

Amelie Fishel

that’s a lotta boys

Jack Hughes

yeah and that’s not even all of them

luke mentioned that you’re nearby and they’re kinda harping on me to get you to come over

i also just wanna see you

“You should go,” Amelie jumps out of her seat. Luckily, Ruth isn’t directly behind her. She doesn’t particularly want to be nursing her grandma’s injuries.

“Don’t eavesdrop on my conversations, Grandma.”

“You should go,” Ruth repeats. “Those boys were sweet and polite over dinner. And you know their friends?”

“Yeah. Photographed quite a few of them at college throughout the years.”

“Then you should go.”

“Aren’t we about to go to lunch with some of your friends?”

Ruth tuts. “They’d perfectly understand you ditching us old gossips to hang out with your friends.”

“I’m going to lunch with you. I haven’t seen them in awhile either and I like your friends,” Amelie says firmly. One look from Ruth and Amelie relents. “I’ll go see the guys after dinner. If they even want me.”

Amelie Fishel

won’t be around until after dinner

dunno if that changes your invite

Jack Hughes

see you after dinner 🫡

i’ll try to hold off your fan club in the meantime

(As Amelie goes upstairs to change, Ruth chuckles to herself. She remembers the middle Hughes brother unable to keep his eyes off Amelie at dinner that night.)

After dinner comes, and she shuffles through her dressers before reminding herself that it doesn’t matter what she wears. She throws on her favorite pair of jean shorts and tosses on a Stanford sweatshirt she stole from Charlotte ages ago. She grabs her tote bag, kisses her grandparents goodbye and pats Susie on the head before walking out the door.

As she approaches the Hughes home, she rolls her eyes at all the cars parked in their driveway and lining down the street. Exactly how many people are here?

She hears voices coming from the back and decides to forgo the front door and paddles over through their side yard into the back. Amelie pauses at the sight, taking in what must be at least ten people by the firepit. She tries to be discreet, figuring out where or who she should head to first. But a voice calling out loudly stops her.

“Mimi!” Before she knows it, Adam Fantilli crashes into her body. She grunts into his chest as he lifts her up.

“Call me that one more time and you won’t have a season to get back to in Columbus.”

Gavin chuckles from behind Adam, before reaching out for his much tamer hug. Good. “Nice to know some things don’t change.”

She huffs, but her heart does feel lighter. “I saw you, like, three months ago, Brinds. No one changes that much in three months.” She lets the two boys each swing an arm around her shoulders and gets smushed in the middle, both simultaneously talking her ear off. She’s not really catching what they say, and she thinks they don’t actually care, but it’s nice to be around them again. Really nice. Familiar.

She’s led to the fire, and feels her smile grow as Nick Blankenburg, Brendan Brisson and Matty Beniers all bounce over and give her enthusiastic hugs and greetings. God, it’s been so long since she’s seen them. Even though she was younger and more naive when photographing them her freshman year, they were on her first roster. And there’s always something special about the first one.

“The fact that you decided to stick around the boys for four years says a lot,” Nick says with a smile. “Did you like them as much as the guys during your first year though?”

“You never forget your first!” Matty chimes in and Brendan throws his head back in laughter. Amelie’s sick of them already, rolling her eyes as she greets Luke with a tight side hug.

She beams at Ethan, whose smile is just as big. “Hi Eddy.”

“Hey Ami,” She lets out a laugh as the smiley Canadian smothers her in a hug. “I didn’t think I’d be seeing you so soon. I’ve missed you.”

“Me neither,” she mumbles into his chest before pulling away. “Missed you too.”

“Well, we obviously know who the favorite is.” Someone pipes in and her eyes track toward the voice. This guy definitely didn’t go to Michigan, but has one of the most contagious smiles she’s ever seen. “I’m Trevor. Friend of Jack’s. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Ah, yes. She remembers Jack mentioning him a few times. “Nice to meet you, Trevor.” She turns to the last person she doesn’t know. Dark brown, curly hair and pouty lips. “You must be Alex.”

Alex’s eyebrows shoot up and Amelie kinda likes that he doesn’t hide his surprise. “Yeah. Jack talk about me too?”

“Yeah. Mostly Ellen though. Said that you’re the favorite.” Alex grins as Trevor howls in laughter.

“He is,” Jack grumbles from behind her. “Even to this day, It’s quite annoying.” Jack shoots her a quick smile and Amelie smiles back before thanking Quinn quietly as he passes her a cider.

She looks around to see that all of the guys have beer in their hands. She had mentioned off the cuff on the boat that she hates beer. She’s touched that they remembered. She takes a seat in one of the adirondack chairs, Jack on one side and Adam on her other.

“I saw Luke’s story. How was golfing?”

“Good,” Quinn says.

“You a golfer, Mimi?”

Again, Amelie glares at the young Blue Jacket. “I think I’d rather do anything else.”

Brendan chuckles. “I recognize that glare. I’ve almost missed it.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Amelie says, sipping her drink and wrapping her arms around herself. Jack tosses the large blanket over both their legs and she nudges his foot with hers as a thank you.

The boys are loud and talk over each other and Amelie can’t remember the last time she’s rolled her eyes this much. She takes the bag of chips that Ethan passes her and finishes it off, much to Luke’s dismay. And of course, true to herself, she takes out her camera to snap a few photos. As the sky darkens and fire blazes, Amelie feels warm, chiming in occasionally when she sees fit but mostly listening.

Amelie’s attention is pulled back to the present with Ethan asking her a question. “You mentioned at the end of the season that you were looking at jobs with some different sports leagues.” She doesn’t remember telling him that, but if there’s anyone she would tell, it would be him. “Did any of that, you know, go anywhere?”

Amelie smiles. “I’m in the final stages of, uh, figuring out something with the NHL.”

Jack’s eyes widen. “No US Soccer anymore?”

Amelie shrugs. “Maybe in the future. But no, not right now. Least not full-time.”

“Wait,” Ethan pushes with wide, excited eyes. “Ami. Are you gonna be-”

“I don’t wanna jinx it,” Amelie says with her hand up, but a smile peeks through. “It’s not a sure thing yet. They’re trying to figure out with what team or area of the country. Or that’s what they told me.”

Cheers erupt and she kinda wants to hide her face behind her hands. Popcorn is thrown at her and she swats it away. She turns to look at Jack, who smiles and picks a kernel out of her hair.

It’s a beautiful smile. She wishes she saw it more often, instead of the half smirk half smile he always does.

“Any chance you’d be in Jersey?” Luke asks as Ethan grins and Jack nudges her elbow.

“Columbus also works!” Adam calls out, high-fiving Nick and Gavin.

“California sunshine is nice,” Trevor sings out.

“Just the west coast in general,” Quinn adds as Brendan, Alex and Matty all nod emphatically.

“Your pitches all need some work,” Amelie snorts, before shrugging. “Honestly, I’ll be fine anywhere. Just not Michigan. I need to get out of here.” Everyone laughs, but she catches Jack’s inquisitive look. She quickly lets herself get dragged into a conversation with Quinn, Nick and Adam instead.

She eyes the pool table through the window of the sunroom and Jack catches her, challenging her to a game. She, along with Jack, Adam and Ethan decide to go in for a quick game. They split up into teams, her and Jack on one, Adam and Ethan on the other.

She eyes the chalkboard and grimaces at Jack’s less-than-desirable record. “Do I really want you on my team?”

Jack follows her eyeline and rolls his eyes. “Ignore that.”

“Kinda hard to,” she squints. “Damn, I should’ve dragged Quinn in here.” Jack pouts as Ethan snickers, her waving at Adam to break.

What Amelie failed to voice when she saw the pool table is that she is pretty damn good at pool. During the few times she went out in college, it’s how she and her friends liked to get free drinks. She would challenge a few of her overconfident guy friends or acquaintances and bet a free drink or two. Though actually, she remembers she played against Adam at least once and absolutely destroyed him. She’s surprised and amused that he doesn’t remember, if his wide eyed indignation at her sinking a seemingly-impossible shot says anything, much to Jack’s amusement.

“Holy shit,” Jack says, impressed. “Who taught you to play? Can you give me their number?”

Amelie shrugs with a small smirk, watching Adam take his turn. “There was a diner I grew up nearby that had a table. I honestly can’t remember who taught me. I just played against my sisters a lot.”

“We should’ve placed a bet on this. You two didn’t know about this secret talent?” Jack says, directing the question to the former Wolverines.

“Yeah, Adam,” she eggs on, laughing as his shot misses. “You should remember. I got you and Truscott to buy me a drink out of it once.” Adam curses in realization as Ethan cackles.

“Wait, I remember that,” Ethan says. “I was even shocked that you were out and about, considering all the times you turned our invites down. Imagine me hearing that not only are you out, you also just single handedly took down the two best pool players on the team.”

“Turning down invites to parties, huh?” Jack chuckles.

Amelie rolls her eyes, watching Jack take his shot. “No. They were all just up in my business when I was trying to be professional.”

Ethan scoffs. “Professional? Yeah, okay.”

“Professional,” Amelie repeats. “I was working for you guys, technically.”

“Ew, no you weren’t,” Adam says, crinkling his nose. “Don’t say that. God. You were just as much part of the team as we were.”

“I don’t know about that,” she watches Jack mess up his shot and just rolls her eyes. “All I did was take pictures of you all.”

“Part of the team,” Ethan emphasizes, also messing up his shot. God, Amelie thinks. These boys are bad at pool. “Stop pretending we weren’t your favorites to photograph.”

“Yeah, admit it!” Adam chimes in. “You were easier on me when grading papers too.”

“I was absolutely not,” she says. “The fact that you treated pre-game as office hours made me grade you harder.” They just wave her off and Amelie huffs.

“Look where being professional got you,” Ethan smirks. “Some fun friendships, eh?” She smacks his shoulder.

“You’re lucky I like you,” Amelie warns, before sinking in the 8-ball with a smirk. Adam and Ethan groan as Jack cheers, placing an overzealous kiss on her cheek before going to the chalkboard. “You’re welcome for the win.”

When the fire starts to die out and more people start yawning an hour later, Amelie decides to call it a night. She gives everybody a hug, promising more than once that she’ll see everyone at least one more time before they leave in five days. Jack offers to walk her home and she doesn’t even bother fighting.

They start walking. Amelie flips her hood up and Jack shoves his hands in the pockets of his shorts. “You lied to me.”

She furrows her eyebrows. “Huh?”

“Said the guys were just nice to you. They love you.”

“I don’t know about that.”

“And you love them.”

Amelie stares down at her shoes with a shrug. “Like I said, they’re good guys.” She looks back up and tugs at his sweatshirt sleeve. “Thanks for the invite.”

“Of course.” Jack says. “You’re always welcome.”

“I don’t think you mean that.”

“I never say things I don’t mean,” he says lightly. “Waste of time and energy.”

Amelie swallows, Jack’s woody cologne filtering through her nose and all of a sudden, it feels like he’s too close, but she can’t pull herself away. “Thank you though. Seriously. You’re right. I-I’ve missed them.”

She lets him pull her into a side hug and doesn’t say anything when he keeps his arm swung around her shoulder. “Do you have any plans tomorrow?”

Amelie chuckles. “What are you thinking?”

“Well, turns out some of the guys want a rematch because they’re mad I beat their asses so we’re golfing again tomorrow, but we’re starting early.”

“I’m not going golfing. Even the best bribe couldn’t bring me out there.”

“I’m not asking you to come golfing,” Jack laughs. “It’s just, contrary to what you may believe, I’m kinda annoying in the morning and need caffeine and fuel to deal with that many people, especially before going on the course.”

“Jack, what are you-”

“Do you wanna grab breakfast tomorrow? Just the two of us? Those fuckers never get up in time.”

“So you’re gonna let them starve?”

“They can figure themselves out.”

They stop at her front door and she turns around. Him being on the step below causes them to be at the same height. “Sure.”

The left side of his lips quirk up. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Though subjecting me to your pre-caffeine self seems like you’re trying to sabotage me.”

He rolls his eyes. “Does 9 work?”

Despite herself, Amelie grins. “See you then.” She reaches behind her to twist the doorknob. “Thanks for walking me home. Goodnight Jack.”

“Goodnight.”

She watches through the window until he walks out of sight. She then looks at the lone light still on in the kitchen and has an idea.

day thirteen - jack

Jack’s not an idiot, despite what his brothers and teammates may tell you. He knows this isn’t a date.

But it sure feels like one.

Jack’s looking at the suitcase he probably should’ve fully unpacked by now, figuring out what to wear. It’s literally just breakfast with a girl he met not even two weeks ago, so he shouldn’t really care what he’s wearing.

Breakfast. With a girl he met less than two weeks ago. A girl whose company he really, really enjoys.

He shakes his head at himself, pulling out a black t-shirt and khaki shorts. He decides to clasp on a watch before he can overthink himself out of it.

At 8:57, he quietly paddles downstairs and grabs the keys off the hook before jumping into his car. He barely pulls into her driveway before her front door opens. A smile spreads across his face at Amelie, her floral pink dress flying behind her as she rushes out, quickly checking she has what she needs in her tote bag before opening the car door.

“Good morning,” he says.

“Hey,” she breathes out. She scans him up and down really quickly. It makes him swallow. “You look nice.”

He backs out of the driveway. “You do too.” When he gets to look at her again, he notices the matching hair scarf hanging from her ponytail. “I like the thing in your hair. You look like a fairy.”

“A fairy?”

“Yeah.”

She blinks. “Oh. That’s…really nice, I think? Thank you.”

“Definitely a compliment.” He bites his lip to stop his smile from growing too wide. She hums along to the song on the radio and looks out the window. He rolls it down for her and watches her lean her elbows at the edge, her head peeking out.

Jack has to drag his eyes back to focus on the road. The sight of Amelie sitting shotgun while he’s driving brings a feeling in his stomach he’s never felt before. At least not to this depth.

She turns to him. “Where are we going?”

“Sunny Side Up right off Beecher Ave.”

She chuckles. “That’s Grandpa’s favorite place. We might catch him come in as we leave.”

He freezes a bit as he slows the car down with a stop at the light, at the thought of Stanley coming in to see him with his beloved granddaughter, both semi-dressed up on a Wednesday morning, just the two of them.

When they arrive, he holds open the door for her, and breathes in the smells of coffee and eggs and everything good coming out of the kitchen of Sunny Side Up. The place is emptier than he expected, but he also knows the typical brunch crowd rolls in a bit later. The hostess tells them to sit wherever they like and he follows Amelie to a spot by the window. They barely slip into their seats before he hears a familiar scratchy yet comforting voice.

“Amelie!” The woman then turns her head and doesn’t even hide her surprise as her grin grows. “And Jack Hughes. What a nice surprise.”

“Hey Sherry,” Jack nods with a grin.

He sees Amelie’s eyes light up, even if it’s subdued. “Hi Sherry.”

The older woman that Jack has seen here every summer since he moved here sets two menus down. She offers Jack a pointed look that looks awfully like his mother’s. “I haven’t seen you here this summer as often as past summers. You cheating on us with some other cafe?”

“I’m a loyal guy, Sherry,” he charms. “I would never.”

Sherry narrows her eyes, “Mmhmm. I’ll get you two some coffee while you decide what you want.”

Amelie nods and flashes a warm smile. “Thank you.” They watch Sherry scurry away. The sound of Amelie’s gentle laugh pulls his attention back to her. “You come here often, huh? Well, clearly not often enough this summer.”

“Hey, you can’t even say that,” Jack whines. “Clearly you come here often too.”

She shrugs, “Like I said, it’s Grandpa’s favorite place. I come here with him at least once a week.”

“Do you have any friends around the area?” Amelie’s eyebrows shoot up and Jack immediately backtracks. “Not that-I didn’t mean it like that. I just-”

Amelie snorts, leaning back in her seat. “Chill Jack. I know what you meant. The ones who are in Michigan aren’t close by and the rest are spread out across the country. I came to my grandparents’ knowing that I wouldn’t see a lot of my friends. Kinda purposeful on my end, in a way. But then Luke saw me walk Susie and now here we are.”

“Don’t pretend like you haven’t enjoyed our company.”

“It’s definitely made my summer more eventful.” Their coffees come and neither of them look at the menu before ordering. Jack orders the french toast with strawberries and blueberries and she gets the house omelet. Jack ignores the pointed look that Sherry gives both of them, because he’s right with her and kinda has no idea what to make of this but is trying to enjoy it while he can.

He feels her nudge his feet under the table. He snaps his focus back to her as she nods to the cup of creamers next to him. “Pass me two?”

He nods, obliging. “Sugar?”

She shakes her head. “I’m good. Thanks.”

Jack watches her stir the creamer in before a sudden thought pops up. “Yesterday, when you said that you don’t care where you went as long as it wasn’t Michigan, what did you mean by that?”

Amelie, to her credit, doesn’t seem surprised by the sudden question. “Exactly what I said. It’s nothing against the Red Wings. I just need to get out of here.”

“Why?”

She stares at him for a few seconds, and Jack gets nervous. Before he can take back the question, she answers. “When you haven’t really gotten the chance to travel or live anywhere your whole life and a job offers you to go anywhere, you take the chance.”

Jack nods slowly. He’s gotten to travel to a lot of places through hockey, but he still considers Michigan his home and often feels an urge to come back during the season — as much as he thoroughly enjoys living and playing in New Jersey. It’s hard for him to wrap his head around the fact that someone could want out of Michigan.

She smiles and chuckles a bit suddenly. Jack raises an eyebrow in question. She just shakes her head. He thinks she’s adorable. “Sorry, I’m not laughing at you. I just thought of something.”

“Do share with the class.”

“I’ve been so excited at the prospect of leaving Michigan, but it’s so clear you and your brothers love it and I don’t know. It’s nice to be reminded of the good parts of this state.”

He shrugs, “I don’t know. I guess throughout the season I don’t really get to be around Quinn or my friends and family that often, so when all of us have the off-season, we all naturally gravitate towards home, which nowadays, is here.”

“You don’t have to defend yourself about why you like this state, Jack,” she says with a small chuckle. “I get it. My family’s technically all here too, so I can’t escape it completely.”

Their food arrives soon after and they spend a few silent minutes just digging in. He cuts a piece of his french toast for her and she in turn cuts him a portion of her omelet. He’s hoping that she’s not catching the fact that he can’t keep his eyes off of her.

When they finish, Jack shoves his card into Sherry’s hand when she grabs the check, they’re walking out of the diner, full and content. The sun is beating down but not too hard that Jack feels gross. Hopefully it stays that way when he and the boys go out golfing in an hour.

“Do you have a second to come inside?”

Jack’s eyebrows immediately shoot up his forehead, killing the engine. “Yeah. Why?”

“Just come inside,” Amelie rolls her eyes. “I’m not gonna kill you.”

“Reassuring,” he deadpans, following her through the front door and immediately bending down to pet Susie and prevent her from running out. He watches Amelie disappear into the kitchen for a moment before she comes back out with a tupperware container filled with…cookies?

“For you,” Amelie hands him the tupperware. “And the other guys.”

“What are these?”

“I kinda got a burst of energy after I came home last night and wanted to do something with my hands. You’re gonna tell me you guys are gonna turn down fresh cookies?”

“No,” he says, looking back at her. “Thank you.”

She smiles. “You’re welcome.”

Jack opens his mouth and then closes it. He wants to ask why she made the cookies. Why she’s giving a large container of them to him and their friends. If it means anything.

Instead, he backs towards the door. “See you around?”

“Yeah,” she says. “Have fun golfing with the boys. I don’t want to hear a single thing about it.”

He laughs. “I won’t subject you to that. Promise.”

“I’ll hold you to it. And thanks for breakfast.”

“Of course.”

“Stop paying for me though.”

“Never.”

She playfully shoves him out the door with an eye roll. He thinks he could see that eye roll for the rest of his life and feel content.

day fifteen - amelie

As she’s pouring herself a second cup of coffee, she hears someone knocking on the front door. Ruth’s out walking Susie and Stanley’s out golfing with friends the day, so Amelie trudges over to the front door.

It’s Quinn, in a Canucks sweatshirt and basketball shorts, his hands shoved into his pockets.

Amelie smiles easily, albeit confused. “Hey Quinn.”

“Morning.”

“What’s up?”

He shifts on his feet. “Are you busy?”

“Not really,” she opens the door wider for him to come in. “I was just editing some photos. Coffee?”

“Please.”

“Anything in it?

“A bit of milk if you have some.”

She hums, preparing his coffee and carefully sliding it over to him as he rests his forearms on the island. “Where are the rest of the guys?”

He shrugs. “Either asleep or just hanging out. We had a tough practice this morning.”

“And you decided to come here?” She teases. She doesn’t want him to think he’s not welcome, because she actually really likes Quinn, despite spending the least amount of time with him compared to his brothers.

“Kinda wanted some peace and quiet, to be honest, which is hard to find in the house when there’s so many people,” he admits, before nodding to her open laptop. “You said you were editing photos? What for?”

“Partially to update my portfolio. Partially to brush up on my skills.” She moves the laptop so he can see it. Pulled up is a picture she took last year at a Michigan swim meet. “See how it’s a little too bright here?” She clicks on the dodge tool in the open Photoshop tab and quickly edits. “There.”

“Do you do this with every photo?”

“Sometimes I switch between different softwares, but it’s generally the same process. The big differences that I have to be aware of are lighting and composition when editing.”

Quinn nods. “This is sick. Like, super cool.”

She quickly saves her work before turning her full attention back to Quinn, smiling. “Thank you.”

“Do you have any photos you’ve taken of us the last few weeks?”

With that, Amelie scoots herself closer to him and slowly scrolls through a bunch of photos, starting from that day onto the boat and then to the fire the other night and other miscellaneous ones inbetween. Quinn lingers on a picture that’s one of her favorites, one that makes her smile everytime she sees it. It’s of Jack the night of the fire. The light from the fire is illuminating the front of his face while the dawn of the Michigan sky behind him casts him in a subtle light.

He’s looking away from the camera — at Gavin, if she remembers correctly — in the middle of laughing. His hair is all tousled over his forehead, some loose strands going over his eyes. His blue eyes are bright and if she showed this photo to anyone who didn’t know Jack Hughes, she’s sure they would be able to hear his laughter anyways.

He looks radiant. Everything like the bright and intense first-overall draft pick he was projected to be. As she watches Quinn’s eyes flicker over the photo, she thinks there’s something incredibly intimate about the way the camera captures the middle Hughes brother.

(“The subject of the camera makes up less than one percent of the photograph,” Professor Yang, one of her most trusted mentors said to her once. “The majority of the beauty of a photograph comes from the photographer themself and how they see the subject.“

It’s always at the most inconvenient times does Professor Yang’s voice ping through her head.)

She watches Quinn click through other photos, some edited, most of them raw. He makes small comments here and there asking about the mechanics of photography and how she knows when and what to shoot her lens at. She tries to explain in a way that would make sense to someone who knows little to nothing about photography and Quinn, to his credit, is keeping up the best he can. She goes to pour Quinn another round of coffee as Ruth comes back in through the side door, Susie trotting over to Quinn happily, who pets her. Ruth merely smiles as she’s sliding off her shoes at the sight of the eldest Hughes brother.

“Good morning, Quinn.”

Quinn grins. “Good morning. Sorry for interrupting.”

Ruth waves him off, coming to kiss the top of Amelie’s head. “Not at all. I see Amelie here has offered you some coffee. Would you like some chocolate chip cookies? Also courtesy of Amelie.”

“Not on the meal plan, I’m sure,” Amelie comments dryly.

Quinn laughs loudly. “No, but it is the summer.” He reaches into the container in Ruth’s hands. “Thank you. I actually had some of the ones you gave Jack last night. They’re really good.”

Amelie ignores the look she knows her grandmother is giving her. “Thanks. I could teach you how to make them, if you’d like. My, uh, an old friend of mine taught me a trick his mom taught him that make it extra gooey.”

She, again, ignores the look her grandmother is giving her. Quinn doesn’t need to know that old friend is her ex-boyfriend.

(Humans are interesting in the way that they’re mosaics, made up of the pieces — people, in this case — they’ve encountered in their lives. Amelie hates what Cooper did to her, but she will never forget the methods he taught her about making the perfect chocolate chip cookie)

Quinn grins. “I’d love to know, actually. I’ve been wanting to figure out how to bake simple things to, like, bring to events and stuff. I should, right? Being captain and all.”

Amelie snorts as she starts getting ingredients. “If you say so.”

Quinn and Ruth start chatting inbetween Amelie telling Quinn what to do. She can tell her grandmother is absolutely charmed by Quinn’s politeness and overall presence. And to be honest, she is as well.

It makes sense that he’s captain, in the way he speaks, listens and guides. Amelie thinks if she were on a sports team, she’d ride into battle with, for and alongside him.

Quinn spills a bit of flour on the counter and Amelie just snorts, waving away his apologies and telling him to crack the eggs. She just eyes him to make sure he isn’t fucking that up while listening to Ruth talk about something Charlotte told her on a call the other day.

“You know,” Ruth starts and Amelie immediately doesn’t like where her tone is going. “My granddaughters are pretty great people, present company included. Colette’s engaged, but Charlotte’s single.”

Amelie bursts out in laughter as Quinn starts blinking, no doubt trying to think quickly about how to respond to that. “Grandma, at least try to be subtle about it.”

“Why? I’m too old for that.”

“With all love, I don’t think Quinn is Char’s type. Char only dates assholes, remember?”

Quinn laughs in surprise as Ruth taps her chin with a small smile. “I suppose that’s true. The boy she brought back last summer wasn’t too bad.”

“He told me photography wasn’t a real career and that I was wasting my time,” Amelie deadpans as the oven beeps. She nods at Quinn to put in the trays. “I get that he’s in academia like Char, but what a shitty take.”

“Maybe introducing Quinn to her will break her streak,” Ruth suggests.

Amelie rolls her eyes to humor her. “How do you even know if Quinn is single?”

Ruth eyes him. “Are you?”

Quinn clears his throat, “I am. Newly single though.”

Amelie didn’t know that, and it’s not her place to pry. She grimaces as she pulls him into a side hug. “That settles it, then. I’m keeping Quinn to myself.” Luckily, that gets him to smile.

Just as the oven beeps and Ruth moves to start preparing lasagna, (“Sit down, Quinn. You’re not going anywhere.” Ruth had said with a firm voice as Quinn was trying to leave, not wanting to intrude for lunch), the doorbell rings. Amelie blinks. She has a feeling she knows who’s on the other side of the door.

It’s a slightly smaller group than the night by the fire. Jack, Luke, Adam, Ethan, Alex and the sweet smile of a guy who wasn’t here last time. But Jack has shown her enough pictures and he’s talked about Cole Caufield enough that Amelie is 99% sure it’s him.

“Hey Mimi!”

“Don’t call me that,” she automatically responds to Adam. “You all here for lunch?”

“Ruth invited us,” Luke pipes up. Well, that explains why she was taking out such a large portion of lasagna sheets. “Susie saw Jack getting the mail and kinda mauled him.

“Of course she did,” Amelie steps aside as one by one, they greet her with a quick hug. She hugs Cole for a bit longer. “Cole, right? It’s nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too,” Cole beams. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

She chuckles softly as they follow everyone else. She tries to ignore Jack behind them, knowing he’s listening in. “Anything Eddy says about me is 100% true. The others you can take with a grain of salt.”

“Even when Jack tells me he thinks you’re one of the prettiest and talented people he’s ever met?”

Amelie’s eyebrows jump up as she looks at Jack, who doesn’t even look ashamed. He even shoots her a quick wink and she’s for sure blushing. She turns back to Cole with a shy grin. “I don’t know about that.”

They walk towards the kitchen, where Ruth is shooing everyone out with the plate of cookies Amelie and Quinn just made. Amelie leads them all outside, squinting against the sun as she quickly grabs a few chairs so everyone has a place to sit. She leans her head on her chin as she focuses on what seems a continuation of a previous conversation about relationships, or lack thereof. She rolls her eyes. Typical. She’s honestly surprised this didn’t come up at the fire the other night in the Hughes backyard.

She munches on a cookie and merely smiles as Jack finds his way to the seat next to hers. He nudges her knee with hers and she bumps him back.

“Hey,” he says softly so that only she can hear him.

“Hi.”

“I like your bow. You look pretty.”

Amelie reaches up to touch the black sheer bow clipped atop her ponytail. “Thank you. Sorry Suz attacked you earlier.”

Jack shrugs, the sunshine painting his cheeks an endearing rosy pink. “Gonna get lunch out of it, aren’t I?”

“You flash your smile at Grandma and I’m pretty sure she’d bake you a cake everyday.”

He only smirks before they both tune back into the conversation. Though from where Jack is sitting, Amelie has a perfect peripheral view of him. He has a Yankees cap on backwards, his curls peeking out at the ends. His summer tan is obvious against the white t-shirt he’s wearing with light-washed jeans.

It’s not the first time that Amelie has noticed how attractive he is. It’s the first time that she has to swallow and force herself to focus on Adam’s voice because she wants to…kiss him. Shit, she really wants to kiss Jack Hughes.

Horrible.

“What do you think, Amelie?” Her head whips at the sound of Luke’s voice.

“What are we talking about?”

Luke smirks and Amelie wants to slap him. “Past relationships, to sum it up. Mostly Adam’s.” And Quinn’s, Amelie fills in in her head, because it’s true, even if it’s unspoken.

“What about them?”

The air suddenly feels a bit heavy, the most solemn it’s been since Luke saw her at the end of his driveway two weeks ago.

“Do you think it’s a thing to lose feelings for someone? Like is it real?”

Some sort of noise erupts out of her mouth before she can stop it. If the guys weren’t intrigued before, they are now, as they fall silent, waiting for her next words. She chooses her next words carefully.

“I think it’s more of an excuse that people use when they don’t want to justify or dig into the real reason why they’re feeling the way they are.” Someone whistles. She thinks it’s Alex, but she’s not 100% sure. Amelie winces. “Sorry, did I just attack someone?”

“Just my ex,” Adam says.

“Oh good. No one here then.” Amelie offers him a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry though. I know how much that sucks to hear.”

“It does.”

“I had to learn that it’s rarely your fault that they supposedly lost feelings. It took me awhile to figure that out, but I did.” She turns to Adam and tries to give him a reassuring smile. “It sucks. Agonizing over everything you could’ve done better and asking yourself why you weren’t enough for them to stick around. At least that’s how it was for me.”

“That’s…kinda exactly how it felt,” Adam admits. “Feels, even now, sometimes.”

Amelie shrugs. “There’s no set timeline for the process of moving on. And it ebbs and flows too. Also no fault in that.”

“You seem awfully knowledgeable about breakups,” Luke states. Amelie catches Ethan’s subtle but pointed glance. How much does she want to tell them about that part of her life?

“A story for another time,” she says with a dry smile. Cooper Volt and his douchebag ways are not a conversation she wants to have before noon. Or really ever. “But I’m serious, Adam. And whoever else needs to hear it. Feelings can shift and feel and look different overtime, but losing them completely? I don’t know. It’s heartbreaking to hear from someone who used to be such a big part of your life.”

“Commitment is scary,” Cole pipes up. “And it’s hard. Especially, I feel like, with what we do.”

It’s like getting a bucket of ice cold water dumped on her when she suddenly remembers who exactly she’s surrounded by.

“Do you even want commitment?” Amelie blinks. “Sorry, that’s harsh. That’s not fair of me to ask.”

“It’s a fair question though, I think.” Jack says. Amelie suddenly feels her hands clam up. “I mean, for me at least, I think it’s changed throughout the years. You know, at the start, like five years ago, when it was still chaotic and still an adjustment period, a relationship probably wasn’t on my mind.”

“But now?” Cole presses.

Jack shrugs. “I think so. But you can’t force it, you know?”

“A relationship would do you well, Jacky.” Luke says, taking a sip of his water. “Don’t know who’d want to deal with you though.” Jack throws his half-filled water bottle at him and Luke squeaks as everyone laughs. Jack nudges Amelie’s knee with a light smile and she has absolutely no idea what to make of that.

“I didn’t know you were dating someone, Adam,” Amelie comments.

Adam shrugs. “It was for most of last season. Met her through a mutual friend of a mutual friend. I thought it was going well. Clearly it didn’t work out.”

“But you tried your best?”

“Of course I did. Well, what I thought was best at the time.”

“Then that’s all you can do,” Amelie curls up in her chair. “Sometimes our best isn’t enough. It sucks to hear, but it’s true. And that’s not on you.” She avidly avoids Jack’s eyes that she can feel boring into the side of her head. She should probably stop talking before she reveals more than she wants to.

Luckily, the conversation steers elsewhere with courtesy to Jack. “Well, what do you look for in someone, Amelie?”

Amelie snorts. “You trying to matchmake for me, Hughes?”

“Maybe.”

Everyone laughs and she puts her chin on her hands in thought. “I mean, tough question.”

“One thing. That shouldn’t be hard.”

“It’s not. Just give me a minute to think. I wasn’t prepared to be talking about our love lives today.” Amelie bites her lip, staring out at the lake in thought. But in reality, it’s an easy answer. “I think, honestly, the biggest thing for me is someone who’s just, kind. Kind to the point where they care about the people around them and how they treat others and the world and….I don’t know. It sounds dumb.”

“It’s not,” Jack says. “Being kind and considerate is underrated, I think. It’s hard to find people like that.”

“Or maybe you’re not looking in the right place,” Alex adds.

“That too.”

Amelie summons some courage. “Well, I’ll flip the question back to you then. And anyone else who wants to answer. What’s one thing you look for in a partner?”

It’s like Jack makes sure she doesn’t break eye contact before answering. “Honestly? Someone I can have fun with and feel completely comfortable around. Which I know isn’t a real trait, but I think if I feel like I don’t have to pretend at all with somebody then they’re worth keeping in my life.”

“That’s quite sweet, Rowdy,” Quinn comments, Jack just shrugs, her eyes still on hers.

Okay, yeah. Amelie needs space. Or water. Or three shots of vodka.

The universe listens to her, because Ruth is suddenly calling them all in. Amelie bolts out of her seat and rushes in to help set up utensils. Thankfully, no one outwardly calls her out on it as they all trickle in after her. The conversation shifts to easier topics, and she relishes in being more of an observer than a contributor.

Along with the delicious lasagna, Ruth somehow found time to make some brownies which Amelie is almost sure is not allowed in any of their diet plans. Nonetheless, she watches them devour the gooey treats and shower Ruth in praise. She herself has one before standing up to put dishes away. She and her grandmother stop any of them, either with their eyes or words, from getting up and they all reluctantly sink in their seats and continue their conversations. Ruth asked them about going to Michigan a few minutes ago and they’re still on that, with Cole and Alex talking up Wisconsin even though no one asked.

Amelie’s putting the last dish in the dishwasher when someone’s voice in the kitchen causes her to yelp in surprise. She whips around to see Jack’s wince. “Jesus, Jack. Warn a girl next time.”

“Sorry,” he comes around the counter. “I just wanted to see if you needed any help, but it seems like you got it covered.”

“Grandma let you get away?”

“I might have told her I was gonna use the bathroom,” he admits.

Amelie snorts, shutting the dishwasher. “Why lie?”

“I wanted to see you without everyone’s eyes on us.”

When someone just says that, so honestly, almost rushed out as if he wasn’t thinking of saying it in the first place but it just slipped out, how is she supposed to react, really?

She resorts to what she knows best. Apathy. “Well, here I am.”

“Here you are. Quinn told me you taught him how to make those cookies.”

“I did,” a smile peeks out at that. “He did pretty well. And we made a lot, so please take them with you when you guys leave.”

“Kicking us out so soon?”

“No,” she sighs. “But as much as she’s gonna pretend not to, Grandma doesn’t have as much energy anymore, so I will at some point in the near future gently kick all of you out so she can rest.”

“No worries,” Jack says. “We have plans to head out on the boat anyways. You wanna join?”

She actually does want to, but she already had her own plans to have a day for herself, and those days are important. “I think I’m good. I’ll leave you boys to it. But thank you for the offer.”

“Anytime.” They’re practically touching now, but Amelie doesn’t mind. She doesn’t ever feel like Jack is encroaching on her space. “Earlier, outside, when we were talking about relationships…”

“What about them?”

If he catches her clipped tone, he doesn’t take note. Instead, he tilts his head to the side in curiosity. “You mentioned wanting someone that’s kind.”

“I did.”

“A bit of a low bar, no?”

She scoffs, leaning her back against the kitchen counter. She crosses her arms and looks him straight in the eye. “Well, maybe I’ve just dated some shitty people.”

He holds the eye contact steady. She’s not sure why it surprises her. “Maybe you have.”

Despite herself, she’s amused. “You’re awfully nosy sometimes, you know that?”

“Not the first time I’ve heard it.”

“Does it usually work for you? Being nosy?”

“I call it just being interested.”

She swallows, deciding if she wants to push. She takes note of the voices in the other room. If she wants to push, she needs to do it fast.

Amelie’s 99% sure this is where her and Jack are the most alike. They’re stubborn and can never back down from a challenge.

She steps even closer to him where she thinks she catches a whiff of his deodorant. Jack’s eyes are still trained on her, passive, but with something in them that she can’t quite read. “I did, by the way.”

“Hm?”

“Date someone shitty.”

“I’m sorry about that.” He sounds sincere about it.

“Not your fault.”

“Not yours either.”

She chuckles, “Debatable.”

“Nah,” a smile curls at his lips and she thinks it’s beautiful. “Don’t think you’ve done anything wrong in your life.”

“Does the charm usually work for you?”

He lets out a loud laugh. The sound of it spreads warmth on her skin. “You tell me.”

Oh. That’s a challenge if Amelie’s ever heard one. But even with his close proximity, this building tension of sorts that’s been present ever since they’ve met and his watchful but kind eyes, waiting for the next move, she’s still not sure.

Fuck it.

She kisses him anyway.

Jack responds immediately, his hands finding a home on her hips in a way that has her smiling into his lips. She thinks he’s smiling too, but she pulls away too quickly to really know. He is grinning when she pulls away though, a sparkle in his eye she hasn’t seen quite yet.

He pouts playfully and she wants to kiss him again. But she restrains herself and glares at him instead. “What’s the pout for?”

“What’s the glare for?” He shoots back, squeezing her hips lightly. “You kissed me yet I feel like you’re about to accuse me of killing Suzie.”

“Suzie would probably kill you first,” she replies absentmindedly, before stepping away. Mostly so she doesn’t lose control again and kiss him.

Amelie might be starting to question her decision, but Jack’s smile is easy. Light. “You gonna let me kiss you again?”

She snorts, but it’s more fond than anything. “Next time.”

He sticks his bottom lip out in displeasure, but he backs away. “I’m holding you to that.”

She follows him back to the kitchen with a light pep in her step paired with an alarm bell in her mind.

day twenty - jack

Jack automatically smiles when Clementine Sandoval’s face appears on his phone screen. “Hey Clee.”

“Jacky!” She exclaims. “You look tan.”

He gasps in delight. “Really? Thank you.”

His pseudo-older sister rolls her eyes, “Nevermind. I take it back. How are you? What’s up? How’s Michigan? Where are Q and Lukey?”

He chuckles at her onslaught of questions, a pang of guilt in his heart because he hasn’t called her that much since he left New Jersey mid-June. To be fair, he didn’t want to interrupt her trip to visit her new boyfriend in Switzerland — Jack still has to remind himself sometimes that his captain is dating someone who he’s considered a sister ever since he can remember. He loves it, but the fact that Nico could basically become his brother-in-law is a fact he still hasn’t wrapped his head around.

But that pang of guilt washes away quickly, like it always does, as he looks at her warm smile. “I’m good. Michigan’s great. Quinn’s out getting groceries and Luke’s probably still napping. Are you busy?”

“Not at all. I’m just making dinner. I actually do miss you guys at the apartment a lot.”

Jack grins. “We miss you a lot too, Clee. Wish you were here.”

“So what’s up?”

“Hm?”

“You’re chewing on your drawstrings. You only do that when something’s on your mind.”

He lets the drawstrings fall from his mouth as he narrows his eyes. “How do you know that?”

She snorts, “Because I know you, Jack. What’s going on?”

The sound of her sink water running fills the air as Jack takes a deep breath. “I met a girl.”

He snickers as Clementine, with her back towards the camera, freezes. Slowly, she turns back around. “You met a girl?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay,” she starts chopping some garlic. “Tell me about her.”

“Her name’s Amelie. She’s a year younger than me. Just graduated from Michigan. She knows Luke, actually, used to photograph the hockey games.”

“She knows Luke?”

“Yeah. Her grandparents just bought a place two houses down from us and she was walking the dog one day and…yeah.”

Clementine hums, clearing the chopped garlic off her knife and into a small bowl. “What’s she like?”

“She’s a bit quieter, but quick and sarcastic as hell when you get to know her. She’s creative, because, you know, photographer. She’s really pretty. Hang on, I’ll send you a picture,” Jack does just that, sending one he took of her and Adam the other night, waiting for Clementine to look at it before he continues. “She’s always saying something really interesting and cool. I don’t know. We’ve been hanging out a lot the last two weeks and she’s just, really great.”

“You met two weeks ago?”

“More or less.” Jack bites his lip, trying to read the abnormally-unreadable look on her face. “What?”

“Nothing. She just graduated? Any plans after post-grad?”

“Said she’s talking to a few NHL teams for a photographer gig.”

Her eyebrows shoot up. “For real?”

“Yup.”

“Damn,” Clementine says. “That’s awesome. So what? You like her?”

“I think so?”

“It’s a yes or no question.”

“Fine. Yes. I do.”

She smirks. “That wasn’t so hard, was it now?” Jack glares at his phone as she giggles. “Okay. Does she like you back?”

“She kissed me the other day.”

“Oh,” Clementine’s eyes sparkle and Jack feels bashful for some reason. “Did she now? So she must.”

“Hopefully.”

She gives him a look. “Jack.”

“What?”

“You’re being annoying on purpose.”

“I’m not being annoying,” Jack responds instinctively. Okay, maybe he is. “I just, I don’t know. I haven’t felt like this in awhile. Maybe ever.”

“Felt like what, exactly?”

And this is why Jack called the older brunette. She pushes him in a way that isn’t overbearing, but just the right amount where she’s not gonna take getting brushed off. Sometimes, Jack thinks he gets away with brushing things off too easily. Blame it on growing up with two brothers. Luckily, Clementine doesn’t let that happen.

“Felt this excited about someone.”

“That’s a good thing, Jack.” She says.

“Yeah.” Suddenly, it’s like a dam breaks. He hasn’t really talked to anyone about how exactly he feels about Amelie yet. “She’s…..I think I really like her, Clee. Like, I just want to be around her all the time. When I’m around her, I just, I don’t know. I can’t stop smiling.

“She must be some girl.”

“She is,” he responds confidently.

“So now what? You two have kissed. What’s next? Labels or no?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know.”

“No. I don’t.” Silence. Clementine stops the movement on her end and looks at Jack. He swallows. It’s the kind of look that she only pulls out when she’s about to say something he might not want to hear. “What?” He says defensively.

“Nothing. Well, that’s not true. It’s okay to not know. You guys literally just met. Really. Just…be careful. I’m sure she’s lovely, but I don’t..you seem to really like her. I’d hate to see you get hurt over this.”

“I won’t,” Jack says confidently. “Clee, you know me. I don’t get my heart broken.”

“You also don’t get like this about girls,” Clementine points out. “And you know how I know that? You’ve known Amelie for two weeks and you’re already telling me about her. It took you three months for you to even mention to me that you had a girlfriend last time. Just…be careful, okay? You’re only in Michigan for so much longer.”

“I will,” Jack says.

Clementine only nods, before they switch the conversation back to her trip to Switzerland. But the rest of the conversation, Jack can’t help but keep seeing Clementine’s worried look in her mind.

Clementine’s usually right. He hopes she’s wrong this time.

day twenty three - amelie

Amelie takes a deep breath before accepting a good luck hug from her grandparents and shutting the front door. She smiles at the sight of Jack’s car and slides over into his passenger seat with practiced ease.

“You really didn’t have to do this.”

“We’re literally going to the same place.”

“Still.”

Jack backs out of her driveway with an easy smile. “You nervous?”

Like, yeah. But she shrugs. “Even if I am, nothing I can do about it now.”

“You’ll get the job,” he says confidently. “I know it.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” she chuckles. “Where are Quinn and Luke? Don’t you all practice together?”

“Yeah. I forced them to take another car.”

“You didn’t have to kick them out.”

“I think I did.” She just gives him a look. Jack smiles easily. “Don’t worry about it. Remind me of the address again?”

She wordlessly connects her phone to his car and puts in the address of the cafe she’s meeting Heather at. 47 minute drive and she has to be there at 10 a.m. sharp. She’ll have around ten minutes to spare.

It’s clear they both woke up not long ago, content to spend most of the drive in comfortable silence with her occasional humming to whatever song she has playing from her phone. It’s mostly softer tunes to accompany the earlier hour, Maggie Rogers, Lizzy McAlpine and Noah Kahan appearing the most frequently. She’s 99% sure this isn’t close to Jack’s style of music at all, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

As he turns off the highway, she takes a deep breath, smoothing down her silk navy short-sleeved blouse she’s deemed her good-luck shirt — she wore it during her first interview with the NHL months ago. Luckily, it’s different people this time.

“I’m serious,” Jack says. “You’re gonna be great and you’re gonna get that job and get the fuck out of Michigan.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I am.” They pull up to the cafe and she turns to face him with a grateful smile. “Thank you for driving me.”

“I’ll come by as soon as practice is done.”

She waves him off. “Take your time.”

He leans in to kiss her cheek sweetly. “Good luck. You’re gonna kill it.”

Her stomach is flipping now for a whole different reason. She quickly opens the passenger door and looks at Jack’s sweet smile one more time before shutting it.

The interview goes…so well. So well that she has a job by the end of it, with a promised contract being sent to her email within the next hour. But she barely has to answer any questions before they’re asking her if she’ll take it. It catches Amelie by complete shock and happiness that it takes so much for her to keep her cool in front of Josh, her possible future manager, and Sasha, the recruiter she’s been in touch with this whole time.

All of her hard work has accounted for something? She wants to pinch herself as she shakes both of their hands and watches them walk out.

But something settles in her stomach when she looks down at the notes she took. In her cursive-like handwriting.

Main coverage teams: Rangers, Islanders, Flyers, Devils

Staring at the last word on the page, she swallows. The Devils. She’s gonna be photographing Jack.

Realistically, she knew that this always would’ve been a possibility. But she never let herself entertain the idea.

But now it’s real. And it’s terrifying. And she kissed Jack eight days ago. She wants to throw up.

With shaky hands, she texts Jack that she’s done. He doesn’t respond right away so she takes a deep breath, tapping her fingers against her coffee cup, her brain going a million miles an hour.

She’s responding to her family’s texts before Jack’s name flashes through with the alert of a call. “Hello?”

“Well?” Jack’s voice echoes through her ears. “Did you get it?”

“Come pick me up and find out,” she tries to tease. She hopes he can’t detect her shaky voice over the phone.

“Amelie,” he whines. “Come on. You can’t leave me hanging like that.”

She lets out a quiet chuckle. “Do you think I’d be this happy if I didn’t get it?”

A pause. And then, “Let’s fucking go, baby! I knew you had it in the bag.”

“Come pick me up so I can tell you more about it,” she mutters

“You got it.”

11 minutes later, she sees Jack park by the curb and she walks out of the cafe, willing her hands to stop sweating. He quickly comes around the car and gives her a giant hug. She laughs as he lifts her up.

“So,” he sings as he starts the engine. “Do you know with what team? Or teams?”

Amelie hopes her poker face is intact. “Actually, not yet. That’s the only thing they haven’t fully settled on yet. And I might not know until, like, a month before I start.”

He tuts. “That’s a bit annoying. They just expect you to move to wherever on such short notice?”

She swallows roughly, hoping he doesn’t notice. “I guess. They said they can help me find housing though, which is helpful.”

He hums, before shaking her thigh with a laugh. “Amelie. This is amazing. You should be so proud of yourself.”

“Thanks, Jack.” Instead of turning onto the highway, Jack takes a right. “Where are we going?”

“Do you have anywhere else to be today?”

“Not until like, 4.”

“Perfect.”

She has to laugh out loud when the USA Hockey arena comes into view. “You forget something?”

“No,” he says simply. “Have you ever skated before?”

“I photographed your younger brother at Michigan.”

“But that doesn’t mean you’ve skated.”

Fair. “I have. I’m not very good though.”

He kills the engine and flashes her a charming smile. “Come on. To celebrate.”

Amelie lets Jack charm the person working the rentals and watches him tie the skates on her feet, smiling softly as he does it carefully, making sure they’re tight enough. She takes his hand as she steps onto the ice, wobbling a bit but quickly gaining her balance. There’s no one else at this particular rink, which she’s thankful for. People would have questions, and she doesn’t have any of the answers.

She lets herself laugh and have fun as Jack spins them around. She takes a deep breath, letting the smells and sounds of an empty hockey arena fill her senses again.

This is gonna be her future for the next while. If she thinks too hard, she can picture herself in Newark, in the Prudential Center, with Jack across from her, just like this. She swallows at the sight of Jack’s bright eyes.

Main coverage teams: Rangers, Islanders, Flyers, Devils

“You’re amazing,” Jack says a bit later, as they’re gliding in the middle of the ice, her hands in his, facing each other. “I’m serious. You’re going to crush it.”

She tries not to tear up, looking down at their skates. “I’m really excited,” she says. “This is, kind of, everything I’ve been working towards.”

“I know,” Jack smiles, tugging at her hands lightly. “You nervous at all?”

“A bit. Is that weird?”

He snorts. “No. I was scared shitless my rookie year, despite trying to act like hot shit.”

“I don’t doubt that.”

“But you’re not me, because you’re healthily humble and you have the talent to back up your skill. It’s okay to be nervous, but it’s all gonna work out just fine.”

She hums, hands boldly reaching out to cup his face. She only has so much time left. She swears he softens into her touch. “Quite good at the pep talks, huh?”

“Not usually,” he murmurs, leaning closer as his lips ghost hers. “But, I don’t know. You seem to bring out a different side of me.”

“That’s sappy as shit.”

“I can be sappy.”

“Sure you can.” She hums as he presses a delicate kiss on her lips. She chuckles airily as he pulls away only to start peppering kisses on her cheeks.

For a bit, Amelie squashes her overthinking and just breathes in everything Jack Hughes.

(Unbeknownst to both Amelie and Jack, Jim sees them from the offices upstairs. He smiles to himself, as he watches his son spin the brunette girl around the ice, the joy palpable on both their faces)

day twenty five - jack

He doesn’t even bother to come up with an excuse anymore when he shows up on Stanley and Ruth’s front door the next morning. He accepts a cup of coffee when Ruth tells him Amelie’s in the shower, chatting casually with them both about the weather, golf, his family and the upcoming season.

When Amelie comes down the stairs, she doesn’t even look surprised, simply waving before tossing her hair up and grabbing her bag. She mentioned over text that she just had to run some “boring” errands today. He jumped at the chance to join her.

With some argument, she relents and lets him drive. He has to stop himself from looking over at her, overwhelmed at…her. Just her.

The grocery store first to get groceries for Stanley and Ruth, which causes Jack to swallow because God, the way Amelie takes care of the people in her life reminds him of Clementine, who always saw the best in Jack before he was anything.

Then a stop by at a farm to table place for lunch where Amelie says she’s been dying to try. Then Target, then CVS, then the bank. They never really hold hands, but they’re always in each other’s orbit comfortably. That’s enough for him.

Before being done for the day, a quick detour to a small beach that Amelie claims has “incredible sunsets.” He follows her obediently as she jumps out of the car with her film camera. The sunset is beautiful, but, and it’s so cliche and gross and he would get chirped to hell if his friends could read his mind, Amelie’s prettier.

He can’t help but take out his phone to take a picture of her back against the cotton candy sky. He always posts some sort of a summer dump on his Instagram. Maybe this picture will go in there.

day thirty two - amelie

“Who’s gonna be there again?”

“Honestly, who knows at this point?” Jack’s voice floods her ears through her airpods as she takes Susie on a walk and Jack’s driving back from who knows where.

“And this is tonight?”

“Yup. Because it’s someone’s birthday? Ethan’s, maybe?”

“Not Eddy,” she responds automatically. “His birthday’s in June.”

“I forget how close you two are.”

“To be fair, the only reason I remember is because he’s like, five days older than I am,” Amelie shushes Susie, who’s barking at a squirrel. “And you’re all gathering at some sort of sports bar at fucking Ann Arbor of all places to… celebrate? Reminisce?”

She can practically hear Jack’s pout. “You don’t have to come if you don’t want to.”

“That’s not what I’m saying,” she chides gently. “I, just, I’m just confused about-”

“Confused about what?”

“About why you’d want me there.”

“Why wouldn’t I want you there?” Jack says softly.

She swallows, playing with Susie’s leash. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Awesome,�� she knows Jack’s smiling through the phone and she can’t help but smile as well, even though she feels a pit forming in her stomach. “I’m DDing because I lost a bet against Luke on the course yesterday, so you can go as hard as you’d like.” A rustle on his end of the phone. “I gotta go, but I’ll see you later?”

“What time are you coming?”

“Around 7:30?”

“Perfect.”

“See you soon.”

Amelie hears him pull up at 7:23 as she’s scrolling on her phone. A deep breath before opening the door and she doesn’t expect Jack to be walking up her steps.

“Oh,” she blinks. “Hi.”

Jack smiles up at her. “Hey.”

She looks beyond his shoulder and sees some movement in the backseat of the running car. “You didn’t have to step out.”

“Feels impolite just honking.” She lets him wrap her in a quick hug before she slips into the passenger seat. She turns around immediately to smile at Ethan, Luke and Dylan. “Hi boys. You sure none of you wanna take the front seat?”

“We are under strict orders from Jack that as long as you’re in the car, we will be banished to the back,” Luke snickers.

Jack blindly reaches back to smack his brother’s leg. “I’m already driving you losers. Don’t make me regret it.”

Luke gasps. “I’m not the one who lost the bet.” Another slap to the leg from Jack and another yelp from Luke.

Once they reach the bar and Jack somehow finds street parking, the boys pile out quickly and head to the bar. Her and Jack stray behind, and he locks the car before swinging an arm around her shoulder, sneaking a kiss to her temple.

She shouldn’t, but she leans into it. Leans into him. The bustling bar is coming into view and she’s getting nervous.

He pokes at her side. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

He offers her a skeptical look but lets it go. “You’ll know most of the people there. No need to be nervous.”

“I’m not nervous,” she lies.

He snorts, but doesn’t respond. He does pull her closer to his side though.

Immediately when they walk in and Amelie realizes she has been here before. Not many times, maybe only three or four, but enough for the environment itself to not be unfamiliar. She surveys the scene while letting Jack steer them both towards a corner where both people she knows and doesn’t know are gathering. The first person she makes eye contact with happens to be Carina Scholl, a girl she went to high school with. Because of course. This state is so damn small. Before she can spiral over it, Amelie’s quickly distracted by the sound of Mark Estapa’s voice.

And then it’s like a floodgate opens. Members of the Michigan Men’s hockey team, present and past, greet her, standing in a sort of messy line, almost like they’re queuing to hug her. It starts with Mark, then Rutger and Kienan and Luca. Then Mackie and Nolan, who she hasn’t seen in far too long and didn’t realize she missed until now.

She feels quite touched that they all seem so excited to see her, wrinkling her nose when Rutger pulls her ponytail lightly. When everyone calms down, Jack slides her favorite cider towards her. She smiles at him in thanks and he just winks before being pulled into a conversation about hockey that honestly has Amelie immediately tuning them out.

She ventures to familiar territory — a booth housing Ethan and Luke — and they happily let her slide between them, introducing her to the faces she doesn’t recognize as she politely nods. She does brighten up when one of the girls, Sarah, she notes, says she recognizes her from her photography. (“I was on the gymnastics team. My family might have one of your photos framed in the house.”).

Photography and Michigan. Those are topics Amelie can talk about.

After a bit, the boys slide out and she finds herself gravitating towards Sarah and two of her friends Amelie doesn’t know, content with sitting back and listening into their conversation, with some comments here and there. She spots two more girls she went to high school with — Shannon and Abby — and swallows roughly. She’s pulled back in the conversation with a call of her name from Madison.

“I saw that you came in with Jack Hughes,” Madison says. Immediately, Amelie wants this conversation to end. But Madison’s smile is curious, not malicious. “Are you two…you know?”

Amelie blinks, stomach suddenly dropping. “Are we…”

“Together,” Sarah finishes with a teasing eye roll. “I don’t know why you didn’t just say it, Maddy.”

“I didn’t want to be impolite!” Madison exclaims as Ellie, the third girl, laughs. “I mean, we just met. It’s none of my business, really.”

“We’re not,” Amelie says, softly but firmly, even though she wants to crawl under the table right now. “Friends through Luke, I guess. Found out my grandparents live by him and Quinn’s place just a few weeks ago.”

“You hadn’t met beforehand?”

“Nope.”

“Huh,” Ellie says. Amelie follows Ellie’s eyeline to where Jack is talking to Adam. With a High Noon in one hand, the other shoved into the pocket of his jeans and that stupid backwards cap on his head, Amelie can’t look away. “I wouldn’t have predicted that. It seems like you’ve known each other forever.”

Amelie laughs shakily. “He’s like that with everyone.”

The girls let it go, but Amelie can’t. Is it that obvious to people? Should it be? Is he like this with everyone? It wouldn’t surprise her if he was. Just because they’ve kissed, doesn’t mean she’s anything special.

After a bit, she excuses herself to go grab another drink. If Jack is also at the bar as she approaches, that’s just a coincidence.

It’s interesting. She simultaneously wants to be away from him, especially because it seems like “Main coverage teams: Rangers, Islanders, Flyers, Devils” is flashing through her mind at all times. But she also wants to be around him because he makes her feel at ease

She nods at Luca, who Jack was talking to, with a wry smile. “Luca.”

“Amelie,” he sings in the same tone. Amelie considers herself closer to the younger Fantilli, but Luca’s constant positive energy was always a welcome sight when she entered Yost. “You look beautiful.”

“That’s kind of you to say.”

“I feel like you’re about to yell at me for not answering the question again.”

“That was one time,” she says dryly. “Let it go.”

Jack looks between the two of them with interest. “Amelie being a strict TA? That doesn’t surprise me.”

“She wasn’t strict, perse,” Luca teases. “Just didn’t want to deal with our shit.”

“Because I dealt with it enough at the rink,” Amelie says. She brightens up momentarily when Jack shoves another cider in her hand. Without thinking, she presses a quick kiss on his cheek as a thank you. Luca, to his credit, just raises his eyebrows before Gavin beckons him elsewhere.

She pokes at Jack’s chest. “You trying to loosen me up? You didn’t have to buy me another.”

“I told you to go crazy, didn’t I?”

“I think I’ve spotted three people here who went to my high school.”

Jack just raises an eyebrow casually. “No shit. Did you say hi?”

Amelie snorts. “No.”

“Why not?”

She gives him a look and realizes he doesn’t understand. She doesn’t want to get into it. “I just don’t feel like it.”

“You sure?” He nods at something behind her and she turns around, making eye contact with Carina.

She turns back around to face Jack again. “I’m sure.”

(She’s not. She’s not sure about anything all of a sudden. It’s starting to feel like too much for her. But that’s not Jack’s problem to deal with)

“Okay,” he stops pushing. “Who should we tackle talking to next?”

“Didn’t know this was a team effort,” she teases lightly, the weight on her shoulders deflating by the second.

He readjusts his hair under his hat with a roguish grin. “Hey. I dragged you here. And these are mostly Luke’s friends. Of course we’re in this together.”

She rolls her eyes. Because he’s a liar. But she humors him, nodding over to a group consisting of Rutger, his girlfriend Kayleigh, Nolan, Mackie and Mark. “They seem safe.” Jack snorts, but obliges, letting her lead the way.

More time passes, and Amelie’s buzzed. Jack mutters in her ear that they’re probably gonna head out within the next 20 minutes or so, which she could’ve predicted, as their crowd is getting smaller and smaller. Adam already smacked a kiss on her cheek as a farewell. She figures she should probably go pee before the drive back.

After a quick trip to the bathroom, she walks out and pauses suddenly in her tracks. She watches a girl blatantly flirt with Jack, which is fine, it is. The frog she has in her throat isn’t anything. The prickling she feels in her spine is because of the heat, not because of the girl’s hand placed on his bicep. She can’t even let herself feel any sort of satisfaction when Jack casually shifts himself a bit away from her politely.

It suddenly all hits her in the face. It’s like the bubble she’s been living in for the last however many days has immediately popped.

Of course he’s being flirted with. This probably happens everytime he goes out. How could she be so stupid?

Jack’s never going to be anything more than a friend. He’s based out of New Jersey for most of the year — which, to be fair, Amelie might also be in a few months, which he still doesn’t know — and Amelie’s 99% sure it just wouldn’t work. They’re too…he’s him and she’s who she is and this isn’t how it all works.

Sure, she kissed him first. But she didn’t mean for it to go this far. And sure, he kissed her back. But he’s one of the biggest up and coming superstars in the league that she’s about to work for. To some degree, she knows how this is gonna end. She’s lived through it.

(Sometimes, she’s relieved that MLB never got back to her. The idea of having to photograph Cooper almost makes bile creep up her throat._

She has to stop this before it crashes at their feet.

Amelie takes a deep breath and straightens her shoulders, before making her way back to Jack. He looks towards her and brightens up, excusing himself from the girl before jumping off his stool with her jacket she asked him to hold while she went to the bathroom.

“Ready to go?” He mutters.

Amelie nods stiffly. “Where are the others?”

“I told them to wait by the car. Do you need to say goodbye to anybody else?”

She looks around. “No. I did my rounds before I went to the bathroom.” He hums and she follows him out of the bar. ignoring his outstretched hand.

(She misses the flash of hurt that passes by Jack’s eyes. But it’s gone as quickly as it came)

“Thanks again for coming with me,” Jack says, his voice suddenly sounding so loud contrasting with the quiet Ann Arbor air. “Really. I know it’s not your scene but I appreciate it anyways.”

“You’re welcome,” she says, hoping he doesn’t pick up on her sudden change of mood.

He does, furrowing his eyebrows. “Is everything alright?”

“Fine. Everything is fine.”

“You’re lying to me.”

She doesn’t quite snap back, but it’s close enough to it. “How would you know that?”

He blanches slightly, but they’re at the car. So he just wordlessly opens the door for her. She smiles softly at Ethan, who ruffles her hair from the back and snorts at Dylan and Luke, who are sleeping with their mouths wide open.

The drive goes by extremely quickly yet painfully slow at the same time. Amelie actively avoids eye contact with Jack, busying staring out her window and making mindless conversation with Ethan. If he feels the tension. he ignores it.

Jack pulls up to his place first, rolling his eyes as Luke, Dylan and Ethan clamber into the house. As soon as the door shuts, Jack turns to her. She reluctantly turns to him.

“Are you okay?” His eyes hold so much concern. It makes Amelie bite her lip. “And please be honest with me.”

“I’m fine, Jack,” she croaks out. She’s a bit tipsy. She’s very tired. Her resolve is crumbling fast. She feels like she’s running out of time. “I think I’m just overstimulated.”

“I’ll drive you home,” he says softly. He places a gentle kiss on her forehead and it takes everything in Amelie not to let her eyes tear up.

He’s barely backed out of his driveway when she can’t take it anymore. “Rangers, Islanders, Flyers, Devils.”

Silence. “What?” He says.

“Rangers, Islanders, Flyers, Devils,” she repeats, trying to keep her voice steady. “Those are the teams I’m covering.”

He parks in her grandparents’ driveway, killing the engine. “Did you just find this out today?”

She squeezes her eyes shut. “No. I’ve known since I got the official offer.”

The silence washes over her like the most destructive tidal wave. “You lied to me?” He whispers.

“I’m so-”

“Why did you lie to me?” He asks in a hurt voice.

“Jack-”

“Were you ever gonna tell me?” She snaps her mouth shut. That gives him his answer. He swallows roughly, running a hand through his hair. “So what? You were gonna just walk in during media day and pretend we haven’t met before?”

“That’s not fair,” she manages to get out.

“Pretend we haven’t kissed before?” Jack presses on.

That makes the fire in Amelie’s stomach flame. “We’ve known each other for like, a month, Jack. I don’t owe you anything.”

He scoffs. “You don’t think so?” She flinches at his harsh tone and he softens a bit with a sigh. “I just don’t understand why you didn’t tell me.”

There’s plenty of reasons why. Many of which Amelie doesn’t want to say out loud. She settles for: “I mean, would it have mattered?” Her voice cracks. “You were always going to go back to Jersey and I was always gonna leave Michigan and whatever this was would’ve only lasted for so long.”

“Whatever this is?” Jack repeats, tilting his head back against the headrest in frustration. “So what? You thought that we’d go back to our regular lives and all of this would just…be forgotten?”

“I don’t know,” she says, frustrated.

“But you clearly thought about it.”

“Of course I did,” she squeezes her eyes shut. “Jack, you’re…you’re Jack Hughes. I don’t necessarily care about it like that but I know you have a franchise on your shoulders and you’re the best of the best and we met under weird coincidences and I’m glad we have, believe me, but this always had a timer on it.”

“What exactly is ‘this?’” The roughness in his voice has Amelie simultaneously feeling like she wants to cry and scream. Jack laughs humorlessly. “And it’s funny you bring up all that shit now, considering you never for once cared about who I was and all of that since the day we met.”

“I don’t care,” Amelie insists. “In fact, it’s probably the thing about you I care the least about, in the nicest way possible. But whether we both like it or not, it’s a huge part of who you are. And I don’t know if I…”

“If you?”

“If I have a place in your life when it comes to that.”

“Because of what I do? Because of my job?”

Amelie scoffs. “Stop trying to underplay what you do and the impact you have on the league, Jack. I may have just met you a month ago but I, in some way, work in the same fucking industry you do. I’m not stupid.”

“I know you’re not stupid,” he rolls his eyes. “You’re probably one of the smartest people I’ve met in my life. I’m not trying to underplay anything. At the end of the day, hockey is just my job. LIke photography is yours. I don’t see how that has anything to do with us.”

“Well, maybe that’s exactly the problem.”

Jack huffs. “It’s my life. Shouldn’t I have a say in if I want you in it or not?”

And sure, Amelie thinks, Jack has a point, but so does she, even if she’s not explaining it well. She turns in her seat to fully face him and tries a different angle. Tries to get him to understand. “Have you thought about this at all? Like, sat down and really thought about what’s gonna happen when we both leave Michigan? Jack, you know I don’t want to come back unless I have to.”

“What does that have to do with us at all?”

“Jack,” she deadpans. “You love this place. You feel the most comfortable here, you told me that yourself. All I want to do is get out here and all you want to do is stay.” She deflates. “You really didn’t think about the future of any of this?”

“Yes! No. Maybe?” Jack raises his voice in frustration. “I just-I enjoyed, enjoy, spending time together. You kind of make me forget how to think when I’m around you in the best way possible. And I want to be around you all the time. Isn’t that enough?”

“I still don’t even know what we are! Friends? Friends who kiss sometimes? Dating? Hooking up because it’s convenient?”

He blanches. It’s the most hurt he’s looked this whole conversation. “Amelie-” he whispers.

“I know I’m being unfair, but please try to understand my reasoning,” she wipes her tears with the sleeve of her top. “I was already up for this job before I met you. And then I met you. And then I thought, oh, maybe I do care about where I end up. Wouldn’t that be nice and convenient? But we’ve known each other for a month. And I’m not gonna let someone I’ve only known for so long dictate the start of this really important moment for me.”

“I wouldn’t have ever asked you to do that,” Jack says meekly. “I know how important your career is to you.”

“And I believe that,” Amelie softens with a swallow. They’re not getting anywhere productive. “I-I’m sorry, Jack. I shouldn’t have lied to you.”

“But you did,” he says. He runs his hand roughly through his hair again. The curls are beginning to become very unruly. “Was this whole month just, I don’t know, were we not on the same page?”

“Maybe we weren’t,” she bites her quivering lip. “I like you, Jack. I do. But I can’t…I can’t do this. Us. Whatever this is.”

Silence, before his voice cracks. “Now or ever?”

“I don’t know,” she sniffles. “I’m sorry.” She cries, rubbing her eyes roughly with the palms of her hand. She knows this is all her fault. She knows this isn’t the only thing he kept from him. She knows that she’s been cautious telling him important things about herself this whole time, where he’s been nothing but fearless and honest. She knows she fucked up.

But she can’t say any of that out loud. He wouldn’t get it. And maybe she doesn’t really want him to. Isn’t ready for him to

She feels his hand on her cheek, which causes her to cry harder, her tears falling cascading onto his fingers. Through blurry vision, she can see him swallowing roughly. “Can I say one last thing?”

She can’t help but let out a weak laugh. “Sure.”

“A few weeks ago, you asked me if the top was a lonely place to be. And you know, it can be a lot,” he admits. Her heart aches at how vulnerable he’s being. “My brothers and teammates and friends understand mostly, but it’s not the same. Y-you’re the first person in a long time who's made me feel like it doesn’t have to be lonely.”

That causes Amelie to cry even harder. Every part of her is fighting her to fight for him. To keep groveling, even though it doesn’t even seem like he wants that, which is somehow even more heartbreaking. To fill in the gaps for him about why she can’t fully let go and let him in. But she can’t. “I-I’m sorry I lied to you. And I’m sorry it had to be this way,” she croaks out.

“Me too,” he says, backing away slightly. She misses his touch instantly. “I-I’ll give you some space and n-not contact you for awhile. Um, you have my number. When…if you ever wanna reach me, you know how to.”

Her heart splices in half completely. She’s the one who lied to him and he’s the one offering space. Amelie knows she’s selfish for asking her final question, but she does it anyways. “And you’d pick up?”

Jack laughs with a watery smile, “Every time.”

It takes all her willpower to not kiss him one last time. She unbuckles her seatbelt and rushes into her grandparents house. She closes the front door and leans her back on it, sliding down and muffles her cries into her hand.

day thirty three - jack

Everything hurts.

That’s the first thing Jack thinks when his eyes blearily open with the sun. His eyes hurt from crying too many freaking times the last few days. His ribs hurt from where Luke checked him into the boards yesterday. It wasn’t even a particularly hard hit, but Jack’s head was anywhere but the ice and he didn’t see it coming until it was too late.

And his heart just…hurts.

Luckily, they have the day off today so he can sulk without feeling too guilty. Maybe he’ll take the boat out into the water by himself and just lay there. He hears some voices downstairs and squeezes his eyes shut to try and decipher them. Quinn, Luke, Dylan and Ethan. The latter two obviously don’t know him as well, but Jack knows them well enough that they’d probably actually be really nice about Jack’s situation. Especially because Ethan’s close to…yeah.

Jack launches himself out of bed, quickly brushes his teeth and splashes some water in his face before stumbling downstairs, his pace faster once he smells a fresh pot of coffee.

“Mornin’” Jack croaks out, nodding at Dylan and Ethan who are sitting around the island with Quinn, who just slaps his shoulder in greeting. Luke wordlessly pours out a mug for him and Jack smiles at him gratefully.

“You look like shit,” Luke says bluntly. Jack would face wash him for that if he had the energy. And if he was wrong.

“Luke.” Quinn chastises.

Jack waves his older brother off. “It’s fine. He’s right.” His eye catches the sight of an envelope at the end of the table. “What’s that?”

It’s silent for a few seconds too long until Ethan clears his throat. “Uh, Amelie said she developed the shots for her film camera. Dropped some by that she said you guys might want.”

Jack swallows with a curt nod, chugging the whole cup of coffee in one go. He nods at Luke to pour him more.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Quinn asks tentatively.

Immediately, Jack wants to shoot that down. But then he looks up, and he sees all four of them looking at him with varying degrees of worry in their eyes. Jack shoves down the instinct to avoid — like he’s been doing the last few days. “I don’t even know where to start.” He whispers.

“Anywhere that makes sense to you.” Quinn suggests, because Quinn’s always been the one who directs. Who guides.

So Jack lets it all out. He talks about how he purposefully didn’t want to cling to her all night because he didn’t want to come off that way but how he couldn’t take his eyes off her no matter where she was in the room. He talks about how beautiful she looked (“I mean, you guys aren’t stupid. That top with her eyes? Lethal combo.”) and how he had a moment where he felt like all was right in the world. He talks about that subtle shift in her mood after he lost her for a bit and how quiet she was in the car ride home.

That’s the easy part.

Jack inhales a muffin from a box that someone must’ve gotten this morning from the local bakery before continuing to recall him and Amelie’s conversation in the car after he dropped off everyone. When he drops the revelation that Amelie’s actually going to be around the Tri-State area covering the Rangers, Islanders, Flyers and the fucking Devils, all four of them look shocked, but don’t say anything. He talks about how his initial reaction was that he was hurt that she hadn’t told him because he thought that they had something going on between them. He talks about how he felt like the conversation escalated so quickly but also calmly because Amelie doesn’t raise her voice and Jack is not a yeller and how it almost would’ve been easier had they been screaming at each other. He talks about how he can’t really remember when Amelie started crying but how he can remember how he felt his stomach dropping to his feet when she did. He can barely remember how they fucking got there in the first place.

Jack sniffles, hastily wiping his tears away before they can fully fall. “All I know is that I fucking made her cry and whatever we had is probably ruined, which is extremely fucking convenient considering I’m gonna be seeing her around during the season.”

“It’s not ruined,” Ethan speaks up after a few seconds of silence.

Jack snorts. “No offense, man, But how would you know that for sure?”

“I know you two have gotten close in the last month or so, but besides that, I would argue that out of everyone here, I’m the closest with her.” And Jack swallows, because shit, Ethan has a point. Ethan continues. “Despite her lying to you and everything falling to pieces, it’s not ruined. Amelie isn’t like that. You have to really fuck up for her to cut you out.”

And like, yeah, Jack knows that, to a degree. But, “I don’t think she’s ever gonna wanna see me again.”

“Well, did you say anything that was particularly horrible?” Luke asks.

Jack swallows. “No? Maybe I was snappy at some points, but I don’t think so”

“I mean, it’s fair,” Quinn says. “Even though it’s harsh, you were right to be mad about her lying to you.”

“Did I give off that impression that she couldn’t talk to me? Like yeah, we practically just met, but I feel like, I don’t know. I just don’t really get why she’d hide that from me.”

“I might have an idea,” the guys turn to Ethan as he swallows and debates something in his own head. “Uh, this is random, but hear me out. Did she ever tell you about her ex?”

“Which one?” Jack asks.

“Cooper Volt. Baseball player at Michigan. Drafted to the Mets, I think.”

“A bit but not much. Why?”

“Look, I’m not trying to, like, spill her secrets or anything. I think it just might put things in context.” Jack nods and Ethan sighs. “So basically, she was dating him, right? Pretty serious. Lasted for a little over a year. Anyways. I don’t know the details, but I know that the break-up wasn’t pretty. Or, I just assume it wasn’t, because I only found out they broke up after I saw Cooper with another girl on his arm and was confused and literally asked Amelie about it. Apparently, it had only been two weeks since they broke up and he had already gone out and found someone else?”

“What an asshole,” Dylan says, his first verbal participation in the conversation. He’s been munching on cheerios, intensely listening. Quinn’s eyebrows are furrowed in a way that only appears when he’s concerned or really pissed off and Jack’s kinda fuming that someone put her through that.

“Right? Yeah, so that’s that. And typical Amelie, you know, said she was fine and I knew that she had her own friends checking up on her.” Jack’s nodding, following on to his every word, even if a bit confused on where Ethan is going with this. “Okay. So, this is, our sophomore year, so her junior year. The seniors are hosting a party and we convince her to come for once. You know how those parties go. They get big. People are filtering in and out. I just remember coming to the kitchen to refill my drink and seeing Amelie looking so fucking dejected as Cooper and his new girl are talking to her.”

“Did you hear what they said?” Luke asks.

“No, but I didn’t need to, not with that look in her eye,” Ethan scoffed. “I caught the tail-end of their conversation though, which, like, I don’t even wanna repeat, but it was basically Cooper just saying shit about how he never liked her anyways and he took a shot at her being bi? I don’t think I remember it quite accurately to be honest because the second I heard him say that shit I just saw red.”

“He threw the fact that she’s bi to her face?” Jack asks sharply. He’s trying his best not to throw his cup at the wall.

“Something like it,” Ethan says. “Yeah, I know. Absolute piece of shit. I kicked him and their friends out of the party, because, like, there was no fucking way they were staying.”

“How did I not know about this?” Luke asks. “I’m pretty sure I was at that party.”

“You were. If they had refused to leave or whatever or put up more of a fight, I would’ve gotten backup. But they didn’t. And you know Amelie. She begged me not to make a big deal out of it. So I just kept an eye on her for the rest of the night.”

“That’s so shitty,” Quinn says softly. “Putting that against her. With his new girlfriend there too.”

“Yeah, but…anyways. The point is, a week or so after that I kinda caught her after a game or something and I drove her back to her place and she kinda exploded. Went on a whole rant about athletes and sports culture from what she’s observed and all that, which I’m not saying isn’t true, but basically, I think the situation with Cooper was kind of the nail on the coffin.”

“That what?” Luke asks. “All athletes suck?”

Ethan clears his throat. “I think getting fucked over by Cooper, and then meeting Jack and realizing she has feelings for him then thinking back to the last time this happened and how it ended…can you blame her for being a bit scared?”

“She should’ve told me she was covering the Devils when she found out where she was gonna be placed.” Jack says firmly, and he stands by it.

“Probably,” Quinn agrees. “But Jacky, think about it. Even just some of the guys we’ve played with. Not saying they’re all assholes like this guy…it’s just, even if it’s unfair she might place you in the same category, that might be how she feels.”

“She should’ve told me,” Jack repeats. He squeezes his eyes in frustration.

“But did you tell her you were serious about her?” Luke says. Immediately, Jack wants to snap back at his younger brother, because he’s a pest and who is he to doubt Jack about his own fucking relationship, or lack thereof. But then, Jack realizes and a whole new pit appears in his stomach.

“She kept interrupting me,” he whispers. As he puts his head in his hands, he misses the sympathetic looks the other guys exchange. “Fuck. I never-I should’ve been clearer.”

“Jack-”

“I should’ve made that clear from the start,,” Jack says as Luke immediately shuts his mouth. “She had to have known. She had to.” Jack swallows roughly. He’s not the smartest, but he knows now. She didn’t know. And he never clarified what she meant to him.

“I’m sorry, Jack,” Ethan says softly. Jack just waves his apology away. This is all on him. He excuses himself, putting his dish and mug in the sink.

“We’re heading out on the water later. You should come,” Quinn gently urges. Jack just nods, before clamoring up the stairs to take a shower or do something, anything to get rid of the feeling in his stomach.

The feeling that he’s fucked it all up.

day fifty six - amelie

Amelie’s at the Prudential Center by 6:30 a.m. The players start rolling in just after 8, while she’s finishing up helping to set up equipment and lighting. She has two cameras on either shoulder and one hanging by her neck and she has a headband in her hair and she feels happy. She feels at home.

She gets introduced to the guys that she’s been researching for a month now. All of them are pleasant and patient. She does let out a genuine smile when Luke reaches out for a hug in greeting. What happened between her and Jack has nothing to do with him, and she hopes he knows that as she gives him an extra squeeze before pulling away.

When she introduces herself to the captain, she swears there’s a spark of recognition that flashes through Nico’s eyes, but it leaves just as quick as it came. Within their first few minutes of conversation, she concludes that Nico is almost unfairly kind. No wonder Jack loves him.

It’s 10:19 a.m., and she still hasn’t seen Jack yet. She knows he’s scheduled in for his on-ice media shots sometime in the late morning. She purposefully didn’t grab herself a second cup of coffee after finishing her first one. She can’t be shaking when she’s trying to get pictures of him.

Jack comes in and shakes everyone’s hand. He just waves at her with a polite smile and she waves back, her stomach dropping. They can play it off as Amelie being across the ice and too far, but in reality, she’s not sure if she would try to fake a handshake and pretend they’ve never met, hug him and never let go, or do something incredibly fucking stupid like kiss him.

He looks so handsome. He must’ve cut his hair recently, in a shorter style that makes him so carefree and young.

His stuff takes around 20 minutes, and she doesn’t really have to talk to him, instead just taking direction from Mira, head photographer / videographer.

He’s not directly interacting with her, but she feels her stomach swirling and her palms sweat, causing the camera to almost slip out of her grasp multiple times. She wants to smile at the comfort he brings her just from being near him and wants to cry at how they left things in her grandparents’ driveway. At how bad she still feels for lying to him. At how much she’s missed him, as pathetic as it sounds.

It’s neither of their faults that things fell to pieces the way they did. But now, as she snaps a silhouette shot of Jack, she’s deathly afraid that this is just what it’s gonna be.

Jack’s the last one before lunch, so while everyone is taking their lunch break, Amelie takes a few moments to head to an empty room. She braces her hands on a table and takes three deep breaths. Her heart is beating fast. Her mind is starting to get away from her. She needs to focus. She cannot fall apart at work.

“Amelie?” She whips around to see Jack, dressed back in his Devils hoodie and shorts, looking at her in concern.

She wipes her sweaty hands on her jeans. “Jack. Hey. Can I help you with something?”

“No,” Jack shuffles into the room. “I just heard your sighs. I- I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

It feels like she has molasses in her throat, but she manages to respond. “I’m okay. Thanks.”

“Okay. Good.”

He’s about to walk out of the room but her brain thinks before her mouth. “Jack!” He turns back around and she takes a breath.

“Yeah?” His face is unreadable.

She forces herself to keep eye contact. “Would you wanna maybe grab dinner or something?”

Jack blinks. Amelie wonders if he’s ever been rendered speechless. His voice doesn’t give anything away either. “Like, on a date?” She nods. Her stomach is dropping and she feels shame cripple up her spine until-”

“Yes.”

Her stomach drops, but for an entire different reason. “Really?” She asks in a small voice

“Of course,” His eyes glow and the light smirk on his face doesn’t feel arrogant. It feels light. Fond, even. “That sounds..perfect.”

“Oh, okay.” She whispers and her throat closes up as he steps closer.

“I’ll text you?”

“I’ll text you.”

He smiles brightly, and she can’t help but smile back. She’s missed that smile so much. “Okay,” he whispers. “I can’t wait.”

“Thank you,” she croaks out. “I’m sorry about…well. I’m sorry.”

Jack chuckles, and it makes her heart feel a bit lighter. He gingerly grabs both her hands, looking right into her eyes as he brings them up to his lips and kisses them softly. She bites her lip, overwhelmed. “Nothing to be sorry for,” he says. “Promise.”

“Jack,” she whispers.

He walks backwards shyly, but his eyes stay on hers stubbornly. “You know, with you, it’s always gonna be a yes.”

“Jack.”

He just winks. Amelie’s breath hitches. “I’ll see you later, Amelie.”

She smiles as he walks out of her sight.

~*~*~

tag list (lmk if you wanna be a part of it!): @ru-kru

#k writes #hockey fanfic #hockey writing #hockey fic #nhl #nhl writing #nhl fic #nhl fanfic #hockey blurb #nhl blurb #jack hughes x oc #jack hughes x ofc #jack hughes #new jersey devils #luke hughes #reckless driving au

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 26 days ago

Note

I don't know if this has already been asked, but what did you think of the Halloween event? Is it too early to ask? How did it compare with the other events?

Aaaaah, thank you for asking!! I was actually in the middle of writing my own "these are my thoughts" post even if no one specifically asked 😂 but I'm glad I can just reply to this ask with what I was cooking up~

***Warning: SPOILERS AHEAD!!*** ***Please also note: these are just my OWN thoughts and opinions! In sharing them, I do not mean to disparage those who think differently than me; I only mean to contribute to the discussion.***

I'll be quick and rip off the band-aid now: I liked this event about as much as I did Stage in Playful Land, maybe a little better than Playful Land if I think about it. If you know anything about my thoughts on the previous Halloween event, well... Let's just say it's a mixed bag. Neither of them comes close to toppling the peak that was Glorious Masquerade. (Fandom consensus seems to be quite positive though, with many liking Nightmare more than, if not the same as, GloMasq while Playful Land is still considered the weakest of the bunch.) Playful Land and Lost in the Book with Nightmare Before Christmas both suffer from general pacing issues. The former had an intriguing premise and setting but also many plot holes, a lack of active involvement from the SSR squad, and a resolution that was way too convenient. The latter, Nightmare, was very boring throughout because the majority of the event was centered on party preparations. I enjoyed everyone's bickering and the SSR squad's role in the event, but I wanted more than just that. It's basically like Terror is Trending, but if it had the Nightmare Before Christmas characters also featured. However, Nightmare did have a really interesting ending that played with amnesia and time paradox tropes. It's just that the road to get there wasn't anything special. I'll now get into all of this in detail, but it's quite long. Ready for a read? Then let's go ^^

My Extended Ramblings:

The initial aesthetic is strong. VERY strong, especially to me, a girlie that loves Nightmare Before Christmas and formal wear😭 BY GOD DOES EVERYONE LOOK SHARP AND DRESSED TO KILL IN THOSE NIGHTMARE SUITS... The devs totally popped off with the fits. I also loved how all the characters' coloring shifted once they entered the book; there's notable hatch marks on their shadows and even their skin and hair adopt bleaker saturations. These are SO much better outfits than the GloMaq and Playful Land ones, I'M SORRY BUT THAT'S JUST THE TRUTH. The other events tended to have chunky silhouettes and/or overly embellished elements to their designs that didn't sit quite right with me. NIGHTMARE SUITS HOWEVER ARE PERFECT AS THEY ARE...

... That being said, I think this event's premise was not great. I know everyone's mileage with this will vary greatly, but personally I don't like Lost in the Book events. I don't enjoy having Disney properties so blatantly shoved at my face; I'd prefer it to just be a distant part of the lore and history of the Twst world. The other issue with the event being so closely tied to its Disney film is that the story becomes so predictable. You can't really explore beyond the bonds of what the film has already set up, so you're trapped with whatever status quo Disney has mandated is "okay". (For example, in Nightmare, it has to be set BEFORE the events of the actual film in order to keep things "the same" when the film events actually play out.) Lost in the Books rely on individual nostalgia to some extent to get you invested in what it's trying to sell. This was particularly evident in this event, which featured several characters from the film and made Jack a very big fixture in the story. I for one was not sold on it despite my own fond feelings for Nightmare Before Christmas. I needed it to prove its own merits to me, and I'm not entirely sure if it was successful on that front.

I have made it no secret that I don't like most Twst events in general. Too often does it feel like pointless meandering and sightseeing without anything of real substance happening (though I do enjoy meeting new characters and learning new lore). That's also the case with Nightmare; the scale of the conflict isn't anything spectacular--but that's fine, it can still work as is, even if I don't personally find it interesting. I was still plenty entertained by all the bickering between the boys and between them and the residents of Halloween Town. The highlights for me definitely have to be Jade being a little shit to everyone, Jamil being tormented with bugs, Sebek's big speech in the climax, and Leona just beefing with EVERYONE in sight (particularly Malleus). The comedy and character interactions helped the middle part of the event not feel dull. I do feel like them having to switch groups around halfway through was short of a shoehorned way to prolong the middle of the event though 💦

One thing I noticed like, right away as I was playing this event was how disjointed it felt. And for the life of me, I could not pinpoint why… until I went back and compared the number of chapters per part. This is how the parts break down:

Part 1 - 13 chapters

Part 2 - 22 chapters

Part 3 - 20 chapters

Part 4 - 13 chapters

Part 5 - 16 chapters

For comparison, Glomasq:

Part 1 - 15 chapters

Part 2 - 18 chapters

Part 3 - 17 chapters

Part 4 - 19 chapters

Part 5 - 18 chapters

And Playful Land:

Part 1 - 16 chapters

Part 2 - 21 chapters

Part 3 - 11 chapters

Part 4 - 16 chapters

Part 5 - 18 chapters

Generally, Part 1 is dedicated to setting up the scenario and reason for travel. Parts 2 and 3 are meant for exploring the new location, with a big reveal dropping towards the end of 3 that kicks the conflict into high-gear. Part 4 is for combat, and then Part 5 is the continuation of the combat (with a focus on confronting the Big Bad), climax, and resolution. … Did you notice it? GloMasq (the only event of the three I consider overall excellent) is pretty evenly spaced out. Playful Land meanwhile has a weirdly short 11 chapters in Part 3 but had the extremely long 21 chapters in Part 2 beforehand. The discrepancy is made even worse in Nightmare, with Parts 1 and 4 being woefully short and Parts 2 and 3 being 20+ chapters each. It has the (likely unintended) effect of making the conflict resolution feel really rushed.

Alright, I think I've held off for long enough. Let's talk about the elephant in the room, our new addition to the Halloweenies, Mister Skully J. Graves himself. Right from the get-go, he had a mysterious air about him, especially since he's the first ever character to meet his twisted inspiration. Like I said in my first impressions post, I'm really into his design, but his personality shocked me. I expect some whimsy, but not a guy that flat-out kisses everyone he meets and calls total strangers "lovely dears". At the same time, he has the spirit of "sad wet cat" energy, and his expressions can whiplash between that and being absolutely deranged, which I found kinda charming. I get the feeling that he charmed a LOT of fans, as I saw many gushing about his otome-esque behavior and loving how he always calls attention to Yuu and Yuu's opinions. Unfortunately, Skully has what I lovingly dub "Ashengrotto Syndrome" due to my own experiences with Azul. That is to say, I started off liking both Azul and Skully, but after a certain point (book 3 for Azul, part 2 for Skully) they both took a nosedive right into my dislike zone. This is something I vaguely alluded to in my halfway through the event impressions post. I'm under the impression that this is a surprising opinion, so I'll try to do my best to explain why Skully lost his appeal to me. So the initial deterrent was his defensive and controlling behavior surrounding Halloween. He also gets so nasty and speaks down to others who don't see his perspective, which I don't find cute at all. I've mentioned before that I hate it when characters act elitist/gate-keepy and refuse to accept other opinions or change, and Skully fits that bill to a T. Sure, he might have his reasons, but I still find the result of his reasons distasteful. It's fine if he wants to respect the past or celebrate Halloween the way he's been taught, but it's another thing entirely to force those views on others. I've been on the receiving end of this kind of attitude and it was very unpleasant; I would not wish that upon anyone. (To make a long story short, I had invited a friend from outside my culture for a holiday meal so neither of us would be alone that year. That friend then complained that I was eating "non-traditional" food for the holiday.) Really rubbed me the wrong way when Skully started to tell others about HIS Halloween while being totally against everyone else's suggestions. Some of the others (like Jamil) even made an effort to try and include him anyway after his outbursts, and Skully was still unable to accept this lying down.

The hand-kissing thing was... charming at first, because I thought it was just his way of greeting people. But the more Skully did it, the less charming it seemed to me because of how everyone reacts to it. The others are CLEARLY uncomfortable with it, but he disrespects their boundaries by continuing to do so. To me, that seems very invasive and rude. Skully especially kisses Yuu a lot, and whether or not you like it will be up to individual preference--but personally, as someone who doesn't like strangers touching me intimately, I'm not into it.

During the Halloween planning, I noticed Skully speaking to Yuu directly quite often, which is different than the previous Halloween events. I started to feel a little uneasy about this, and for the longest time I could not tell you why. Then I realized. I don't think I can explain it any better than how I did in a previous post, so I'll copy and paste from there:

Another thing that really bothered me was that Skully keeps asking Yuu for their opinion. It SEEMS polite to consider them, but his intentions are way less selfless than they appear. Skully is often asking Yuu for their thoughts AFTER some other character has disagreed with him. So he is literally only consulting Yuu because he wants someone on HIS side. If you ever pick the dialogue option where you disagree with him, Skully insists there must be a misunderstanding and he will explain it to you no matter how long it takes. Don’t you see??? He doesn’t want to know what Yuu truly thinks; he wants validation in his own way of thinking. That’s NOT actually being considerate. The same shit happens when Skully tries to kiss Grim again. Grim dodges but Skully sneaks behind him and kisses him anyway because I guess that’s what gentlemen do according to him. Bro has demonstrated time and time again he does not value consent nor what others’ thoughts are on anything that differs from his own thoughts.

Skully lets his true colors show around the end of the third part. There, he feeds Jack Skellington a sleeping poison, turns Grim into a pumpkin, then takes Jack, Grim, AND Yuu as his hostages while claiming he'll reign over Halloween. Okay, that sounds great on paper, right? But there's so many practical problems with this.

Firstly, HOW does Skully plan to achieve this??? He's not that powerful since he's a first year; how does he intend to stand up to the NRC students? We even know at this point that he can't use his UM that much. Skully has shown he is impulsive and doesn't think ahead too, because he just assumes that Grim figured him out after walking in on the scene of the crime instead of lying/deceiving him about who poisoned Jack. He could have easily blamed someone else or claimed he walked in and found Jack like this already, but he didn't. It comes off as very near-sighted and not well planned out on Skully's part (which may very well be intentional; I don't think he was written to be a large threat.) I know this event's plot isn't meant to be as serious as prior iterations of Halloween events, but it sure doesn't help build tension for the finale.

We find out later in the event that Skully isn't mistreating his captives; he's keeping them in the bathtub Lock, Shock, and Barrel ride around in, feeding Grim and Yuu snacks, and asking them to please keep quiet. He also rambles on a lot about how he admires Yuu and how he wants to grant them a perfect Halloween, etc. That's... wholesome for a kidnapper, I guess??? But what I don't appreciate is (again) how he keeps shoving his ideas onto me and acting like he knows what's best for everyone. He’s not respecting my autonomy or right to think how I want. Skully is literally made of the most negative traits of Idia and Malleus while having none of the danger level of either one/j 😭 This makes me continue to not take him seriously and think that Skully could easily be beaten up--which does, in fact, end up being the case.

The ones who truly shine in this event are Sebek, Jamil, and Leona. The implementation of the SSR squad in Nightmare is much better than Playful Land. In Playful, it felt like Kalim, Ace, and Ortho hardly did anything unique to save the day; instead, it was a convenient phone call that rescued them from demise. The most I can say is Kalim was open-minded and tried to welcome Fellow and hear him out. Most of the other things could have been fulfilled by any other character, which didn't make the SSRs feel as integral as they were in GloMasq (with Azul's UM being needed, Malleus being the one Rollo has beef with, and Idia understanding the feeling of losing a younger brother and mourning). In Nightmare, each of the SSRs is similarly given a chance to shine with their special skills and UMs.

Beginning with Sebek! He leads a lot of the planning and serves as the one to draw up plans, which earns him praise from everyone, including his seniors. It's excellent set-up for him to later confront Skully about the idea of being recognized and acknowledged by one's idols (which I will discuss later in this post). Sebek is also the first to confront Skully on Spiral Hill after Skully has kidnapped Grim, Yuu, and Jack. In an act of desperation, Skully starts firing off magic and making really deranged expressions; Sebek unleashes his own UM, Living Bolt. This results in a strong flash of light in their location. The impact destroys Skully's shades and causes him to break down--he wore them as part of his ensemble, trying so hard to emulate his Halloween idol, Jack. Skully manages to pumpkin Sebek in the midst of his fit, and Sebek insists that Malleus--his own idol--will surely rescue him. NEXT UP IS L*ONA OTL WHO HAS MADE ME SO ILL THE ENTIRE MONTH OF OCTOBER, HURK 🤢 who heard the shouting. He rescues Sebek (he’s de-pumpkin’d) and Skully isn’t able to touch him because King’s Roar is just too OP 😭 (I’m sort of confused about how tf Leona’s UM works though?????? He seems to be sanding Skully’s MAGIC, which shouldn’t even be tangible???) I’m confused. dbsvsjsnskwk And he tells Skully to get back up do he can keep beating him back down????? BRUTAL. Leona’s been pretty useful up until this point too, taking charge in leading the group, strategizing, sussing Skully out, and thinking long and hard about what his true identity is. Bro’s really working those fat brain cells of his, huh…

I think this is the first of the Halloween events (that introduce new characters) where the new guy’s explicitly said to be in danger of OB. Not sure why that is, it’s just interesting to note???

SkULLy RUNS FOR IT and bumps into Lock, Shock, and Barrel, who proceed to subdue him. Surprise, turns out that Jamil had gotten to them first and Snake Whispered the trio. The kids call Jamil MASTER and -SAMA… My guy, you are so repressed 💀 (I recall it being said in book 4 that using his UM on multiple people can result in rapid blog accumulation so UHHHH I guess I’ll overlook this for now or assume 3 people isn’t an issue????) Earlier in the event, Jamil was like the only person to approach Skully to try and include him in the planning. Must be used to this being a big brother + always dealing with his dorm.

I’m not sure if it’s just me but??? It feels like they overlooked how some of the SSR trio’s UMs worked just to have it fit in the context of the climax they wrote. For Jamil’s, maybe you can excuse the fact that he’s controlling 3 kids by saying it’s easier for him to manipulate young minds. BUT THERE’S NO EXCUSING HOW LEONA CAN SAND MAGIC 😭 At least say he has strong defensive magic that Skully cannot break through????

It’s times like these that make me really question whether or not Yuu is actually important for helping these people learn to get along, because they seemed to have resolved the issue just fine without any kind of intervention from Yuu. Yeah, they bickered and picked on each other too, but they still fixed things on their own (albeit on their own, but it comes together in the end anyway) while Yuu is kidnapped and completely out of the picture.

Vcdnsksksksn The moment that follows is kinda funny and wholesome… Well, for the SSR trio, not for Skully. They all sort of rub it in Skully’s face that he lost and then praise each other but in a back-handed way??? Like they call each other nasty and shit at planning, etc. Leona says Jamil bullied Skully so much that the poor thing started crying, then Jamil accuses Leona of threatening Skully a ton… then they gang up on Sebek (wow, they’re both awful and I love that for them).

Seeing this camaraderie makes Skully throw ANOTHER fit because he’s jealous that Sebek gets all this praise and attention. Meanwhile, Skully is all alone, always alone. Though it’s not explicitly stated, it’s implied Skully is deeply insecure about being by himself, as his classmates at school don’t understand him and rejected him + his interests. He extols a lonely and desolate version of Halloween too, something that reflects his own soul... clinging to the only solace he has in this world, the one constant. A holiday that he cherishes so very much--to the point where his own UM is linked back to it. The big dilemma he goes through this event seems to be a mix of having his own views being questioned as well as having his impression of his Halloween idol challenged. This makes Sebek a good foil character for him, similar to how Kalim was for Fellow and Idia for Rollo in the previous Halloween events. Skully even calls out Sebek explicitly, saying that he has all of the things he has never had. He'll never be disappointed by his idol Malleus (sadhbaslidbas this is ironic, considering the events of book 7), he has senpai who praise him, he has Zero for a friend, etc. Life’s soooo unfair, Skully claims. And like??? I was so shocked to see Sebek acting mature about the whole thing??????? He refutes Skully's claims and tells him straight up that to believe in someone isn't to force your own views onto them so your idol stays how you pictures them in your head. It's a mistake to think of one's idol as perfect--not even Malleus is perfect. Even so, Sebek explains that agreeing with someone and loving/respecting them are very different things... so he will accept Malleus's flaws and love him nevertheless. Even if he disagrees with Malleus, even if they have to part ways, Sebek will accept it. That's really surprising coming from him, seeing as how Sebek acts absolutely SURE of Malleus's absolute goodness in the main story... Now I'm wondering if this event must take place after book 7??? Because that's when Sebek has his own views on Malleus totally shaken. Still, I'm so proud of Sebek for dropping this hard truth on Skully--it's definitely something Skully needed to hear and be reminded of to be pulled back to reality. He also just outright calls Skully put for all his cowardly moves, including going after those who cannot fight back 💀 Very Ace of him to do…

Speaking of Skully, what really put the final nail in his coffin and sent him to the Shadow Realm (my dislike tier lol) was all the tantrums he threw this event. I understand being upset and frustrated. Really, I do. I understand being envious of others, of feeling like you've got no one by your side. But is it REALLY necessary to react like that…? And so frequently… He just shouts “shut up” over and over again… OTL I don't know, it feels like I could sympathize with him more if they properly explained why it is Skully is so into Halloween (besides his hometown being the same) and why he holds the past in such high regard. The most we get is it's just something his hometown is into and when he left for school, none of his peers really accepted that. Is the implication that Skully retreated further into his hyperfixation to cope with his loneliness????? If so, I'm not sure if this was properly conveyed so now Skully is left acting like a big baby and overreacting to everyone trying to get him to calm down. The worst of it is when he claims he’s the one who TRULY loves Halloween and everyone else is fake. That sounds like something straight out of an angry elitist otaku’s vent post. Other characters acted similar to this when on the brink of OB (which Skully was) but never so childishly. This might just be a me thing though, I don't really care for overly emotional characters; they're usually not my cup of tea.

I'm not sure how I feel about everyone forgiving Skully and partying with him at the end for the Halloween celebration. On one hand, yeah, forgiving him makes sense because it's not like he was plotting anything crazily world shattering like Rollo or a participating in a large-scale crime ring like Fellow. Skully didn't really harm anyone (though he did try to shatter someone he pumpkin’d), at least not on a large scale like Rollo and Fellow did. On the other hand, I think it was a little bit too overdone with how sappy it was??? Like why did Jack say he was PROUD of Skully for being so passionate that he went to these extremes for Halloween? Why did Jack give Skully a HEAD PAT after the shenanigans he pulled?? I felt that saying he's forgiven and inviting him to join the festivities anyway would be sufficient. And again, I detest how Skully disregarded everyone’s consent and kissed them (Yuu and the SSR trio) as an apology even when they (SSR trio) already made it clear they didn’t want to be kissed. That just felt super gross to me, not funny or cute 😔

One of the big highlights of this event was, of course, the Twst cover of This is Halloween. Everything about it is just so... *chef's kiss* from the strong vocal performance to the perfect selection of characters to recreate each scene. It's a shame that we can't access the song outside of this event, but I know that I'll be playing it on an endless loop off of Youtube 😂

For all of the issues I had with the story up until this point, I'll be the first to say that the ending was genuinely sweet. Skully actually expresses gratitude towards everyone (a first, lmao) and calls us his friends, the best thing that has ever happened to him, etc. He wants to meet with everyone and celebrate Halloween with them again. BUT. I don't like that he singled out Yuu specifically as someone he really likes. I get the same feelings from him as I do with Malleus... Like, there's a weird over-familiarity and attachment he has with Yuu despite Yuu not doing or saying much to bond with him. His reaction seems unwarranted to me, with a lot of the appeal of his friendship coming from how much the player projects onto him. (And to be clear, I say this ONLY for myself, as Yuu is meant to be a character for self-inserting; in the case where I put myself in Yuu's shoes, I would be uncomfortable with how Skully is acting toward me.)

Now we get to the ending that seems to have emotionally broken the fandom.

I said earlier in this post that I don't like Lost in the Book events, and another reason for that is because there's amnesia involved at the end. I feel like an event isn't worth it if the memories get wiped anyway because then it's like the events never happened at all. However, Nightmare actually played with this trope and did something really cool with it. Even though those who leave the book have their memories erased, they're still left with some residual feelings that can propel people to act. In the Stitch event, this resulted in the boys wanted to vacation to the beach. In Nightmare, Skully--who was transported within the book from his original time HUNDREDS OF YEARS AGO--was so touched by the connections he made in the book that he essentially becomes a changed man. He graduates from NRC and travels the world to spread the joy of Halloween, thus being responsible for why it's such a big holiday in modern Twisted Wonderland, the era which our main cast is from.

No one remembers the book's events, but Skully is so thoroughly motivated by his lost memories... He somehow recreates the Nightmare Suit, BUT DROPS THE SHADES (a symbol of him trying to emulate Jack) BECAUSE HE HAS NOW BECOME HIS OWN PERSON. He shares a jubilant version of Halloween because that's the version he cherished celebrating with his idol and first real friends. History doesn't remember him, but his legacy is still going strong. LIKE THE GAO POSE... DID IT ORIGINATE FROM HIM???? ? ? ? ??????? ?? AND NOW I'M THINKING ABOUT ALL THE FUN THE GHOSTS AND STUDENTS HAD IN THE FIRST EVER HALLOWEEN EVENT... BECAUSE OF HIM SPREADING THE HOLIDAY AROUND

The NRC students don't remember him either, but they must somewhere in the deepest recesses of their hearts... CUZ THEY ALL STILL MAKE COMMENTS ABOUT HIM, LIKE LEONA SAYING BRO LOOKS LIKE A PATHETIC LITTLE MEOWMEOW (exaggeration). There's also the implication that Skully's spirit is still around, since the characters remark feeling a strange cooling sensation on the back of their hands. We never SEE him, but we sense that there's something there. In the end, they promise that they'll make the best Halloween ever in honor of his legacy and we get sequel bait.

Twst REALLY had to go and drop that ending on us and then peace out, huh 🤡 It's hard to put my feelings about this ending into words, but I think I would personally describe it as very bittersweet yet romantic. Not lovey-dovey romantic, but like... it portrays a hopeful future even though it's sad too. Like, it's tragic that the NRC students and Skully will never be able to celebrate together again. But isn't it cool that even though they were born in totally different eras, fate still allowed them to meet and completely change the course of history? And even if they forget about their encounter, that meeting still impacts them to this very day. It changed the world and their lives forever. Reaching for that thing you're missins and forgetting, without really know what it is... Something lingering there, without a form... There's something so dream-like about the concept, I have to commend the Twst devs for coming up with it. In that sense, I'm quite satisfied with the conclusion despite the bumps in the road I ran into on the way.

IN CONCLUSION. Yeah, I thought this event was another mixed bag. The pacing was bad and nothing that interesting happened since the story was mainly about preparing for Halloween. I'm not a fan of Skully. However, what I can say is that Nightmare had a good showcase of Sebek, Jamil, and Leona's strong suits and actually allowed them to resolve the crisis. The ending is also much stronger than Playful Land's and poses many interesting questions about Skully and his impact on history.

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stellarbit · 4 months ago

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Guilty Pleasure

Word Count: 2.8k Pairing: post finale Crosshair x fem jedi!reader, past references to techxreader (tech girlies beware this one might hurt) Warnings: well its post finale, so some sad tech talk. angst and a lil fluff and bad proof reading Summary: Even with everything over and everyone back on Pabu, you and Crosshair still hadn't discussed a few things. Him hunting you, his feelings for you, or Tech. It was time. Some literal guilty pleasure.

You’d been separated from Clone Force 99 for months before your paths crossed again and Crosshair was long gone.

Initially, you attributed Crosshair’s continued attempts on your life to the influence of the inhibitor chip. But when Crosshair admitted that his chip was removed, your anger was uncontrollable—echoing the fury you felt on Kaller, the day he turned against you.

Your rage faded when you accidentally stumbled upon an old trunk filled with his gear. Buried under his armor was a small bundle of fabric. His privacy meant little at that point so you plucked it out and undid the bundle.

Inside, you found a tiny tube made from woven straw—a playful gift you had once hidden in his pack as a lighthearted jest about his constant need for toothpicks. The memory of him discovering it on a mission, his irritation palpable as he scolded you for invading his space, flashed through your mind.

Seeing this keepsake tucked away amongst his most personal items confused you.

Turning the fabric over in your hand you recognized it as material from your old Jedi robe. When you chose armor over cloth you chose to discard the last physical remains of your Jedi life.

Before you threw the robe away, however, you had playfully snipped off a hand-sized piece and tossed it into Crosshair’s lap, teasing him that it would be the closest he'd ever get to truly 'touching' a Jedi.

The only two things you’d ever given him and he’d kept them even after Kaller. You thought back to Crosshair before Kaller and some things looked different now.

His cutting remarks, always sharp and ready, his teasing, the intense way he often watched you—what you had once perceived as dismissive and aggravating, designed to unsettle you, now seemed to have been his attempt at playful banter. It was his own manner of expressing familiarity, albeit aggressively.

Hidden in the memories of butting heads, you dug up moments of subtle gentleness from the sniper. There were times he offered you a hand while navigating unsteady ground and carrying your pack - albeit biting about slowing the squad down.

There had been a time or two when you caught what could only be described as the ghost of a smile on Crosshair's lips—a hint that perhaps he found you attractive. Yet, his careful distance had always reassured you there was nothing more to it.

Now, looking at the items before you, doubts crept in. He had kept these tokens; he must have felt something for you, however slight. How had you failed to notice any signs?

When you heard footsteps on approach you made quick work of putting the trunk back together and in its place. It wasn’t until you saw Tech, checking your progress locating the tools, that a thought dawned on you.

Tech—the brother to whom Crosshair had been closest, the one he had always been perfectly in sync with. The one who looked at you like you were something to covet.

It all became very obvious. Of course, Crosshair would have been aware of Tech’s affection for you. Not much got past him, not with his sniper’s instinct for reading the subtleties of his surroundings.

To Crosshair, Tech’s natural ease around you would have been painfully clear. His loyalty towards his brother meant he would never do anything to undermine Tech’s happiness.

Yet, through it all he’d kept a piece of you for himself.

It made a funny feeling float through your chest. A mix of regret and gratitude.

Crosshair was an objective and loyal man. He put things above himself. His feelings, his wants, they didn’t matter to him compared to his duties.

Eventually, you found it impossible to hold any resentment towards him for his actions. It was simply who he was. Even his actions that felt so deeply personal were dictated by his role as a soldier of the Empire. His entire sense of purpose was defined by his commitment to his duties.

Yet he still tucked away, in a corner only he’d see, a part of you to himself.

Looking up at Tech, the man you so thoroughly adored, gratitude swelled in you. The least you could do was forgive and accept Crosshair for who he was. You decided to extend him the patience and love he didn’t allow himself.

In his absence, you’d honor that by keeping his brothers safe for him. As you followed Tech out of the Marauder, you silently vowed to never let anything happen to them again.

A vow you failed to keep.

With each trek across the galaxy in search of Omega, alongside Wrecker and Hunter, the weight of your unkept promise grew heavier. The first sign of relief came unexpectedly—a transmission from Omega, her voice crackling through the Marauder’s comms.

You were only a hair’s breadth behind Wrecker when you ran to Omega. You stood back as Wrecker twirled her around, watched her run to Hunter, and allowed them the space of a family.

A familiar sensation hummed over your shoulder. A feeling you hadn’t felt since…

You swung around and standing in the light of the ship was Crosshair.

Weeks went by and reconnecting with Crosshair was more difficult than you anticipated. You’d both changed and the space left by Tech constantly hung between you.

Crosshair needed the same time and space he’d once afforded you. You wouldn’t push him, but that didn’t stop you from poking him. He was more compliant than when you first met and time on Pabu with Omega only made him more so.

When Omega told you about meditating with Crosshair, you knew you had to make the most of the opportunity.

On the back side of the island, there was a natural pool that became a frequent haunt of yours for meditation.

Floating in the waters, eyes shut and head relaxing on a rock, you’d been waiting and ready with your senses extended. Of all the brothers, Crosshair was the one who kept no pretenses about going unnoticed. He knew well that if he could spot someone watching him from a klick away, a former Jedi like you would easily sense him without even sight.

“Omega said you wanted me.” Crosshair’s voice cut through the quiet.

You twisted in the water, pushing yourself to sit up. “Took you long enough.”

“You’re lucky I came.” He retorted, arms crossed and shifting his weight onto one hip. He surveyed you with a raised eyebrow. “What are you doing?”

As you sat up, the waterline dipped just enough to reveal that the cloth wrapping your chest was now transparent. You noted his sharp intake of breath before he clicked his tongue and looked away, a subtle blush on his cheeks.

You smiled and gestured to the empty pool beside you, “Join me.”

His lip curled into his nose, “Why?” You didn’t deign him with a response, instead remaining with your hand outstretched.

Crosshair sighed and moved to sit on the rocks bordering the water. You splashed a bit of water at him. “Ah-ah! I meant join me in the water, Crosshair.”

His eyes narrowed on you, but after a moment of grumbling, he began to strip off his clothes. The moment the skin of his abdomen came into view, you averted your eyes, suddenly realizing you weren’t as prepared for this you thought.

Crosshair finally stepped into the water, his movements slow. He stood there for a moment, seemingly contemplating his next move, as the water lapped quietly around him.

You reached out and tugged on one of his fingers, coaxing him deeper into the water. “Sit back,” He let you guide, but he was stiff as stone, sitting rigidly against the rocks.

You sat adjacent to him, giving him ample space to relax if he so chose.

Despite the serene environment, Crosshair remained tense, his gaze fixed on the water in front of him, his thoughts miles away. Leaning through the water, you gripped his calf and pulled it over your lap. The sudden motion caused him to slip slightly; his hands scrambled through the water, seeking stability.

Now forcibly reclined, he pursed his lips but withheld whatever comment he had simmering. You met his resistance with a raised eyebrow and a light pinch, “Stay with me. Now, lay back.”

He blinked a few times, but again he complied. His head was resting against a stone behind him, his body from the chest down beneath the water line. You began to massage his calves. As you worked he spoke., “Why did you call me here?” His eyes were on the sky, deliberately avoiding yours.

“They say water’s supposed to be good for healing.” You mused, watching him carefully. For once, your roles were reversed. You took in everything about him while he sat back, trying to shut you out.

“And who, exactly, is ‘they’?”

“Old, dead Jedi,” you replied with a light scoff, but the humor faded quickly. Your gaze dropped to your hands, momentarily still on Crosshair’s leg. You had referenced the Jedi Purge so casually, yet between you and Crosshair, it was anything but lighthearted.

“Crosshair-”

“I’m sorry.” He interrupted, his eyes finally meeting yours. For hunting you.

Your stomach twisted at the sight of him. His head tilted to the side, eyebrows pulled together, lips pressed tightly. He looked defeated, ashamed, devastated. “I—”

You lurched forward, placing a hand over his mouth. Crosshair’s eyes darted between your touch and your face. You couldn’t think too much about touching because thinking of how close you were was distracting in and of itself.

“Don’t,” you said, your voice wavering. Your hand then slipped to cradle his chin, your head shaking gently. “You don’t need to say that. I know who you are, Crosshair.” His eyes widened in surprise, and when you started to pull your hand away, he quickly grasped your wrist, holding onto the contact.

Despite the emotion swelling in your chest, your voice was steady. “Whatever happened, whatever you’ve done - it’s not changed how much I care about you.” You held his eyes, hoping to reach the dark parts of him he clung to. Leaning closer you swept a thumb over his cheek. “So let me be here for you.”

The next breath he took wasn’t shaky, but smooth and sure. He closed his eyes and, on exhale, opened them looking a little lighter. Crosshair gave a small nod, softer than you ever thought possible.

Giving his face a gentle squeeze, you smiled, removed your hand, and sat back. Sitting back, your chest lifted above the water again. Crosshair’s eyes dipped for a moment before looking skyward again and drifting shut once more.

Your hands drifted back to his calves still laying across your lap. The flutter of his eyes and the little hitch in his breath didn’t escape your attention. It made your fingers dig in harder.

“Seeing you in your old armor has been nice.”

He only grunted in response.

You fidgeted for a moment, but casually probed, “Was everything in your trunk the way you’d left it?”

“I’m wearing it all, aren't I?”

You lowered your voice, saying “I wasn’t talking about your armor.” The sniper tensed under your touch. “Cross.” You watched him, eyes averted, swallow.

A muscle feathered in his jaw, “You looked through my trunk.”

You made no attempt to hide it. “I did. You kept a few things of mine.”

“I did.” He matched your limited honesty.

“Why?”

Crosshair’s lips tightened into a wry smile and his head fell to the side to face you. “Why don’t you take a guess?”

You blinked absently, a thoughtful frown tugging at you. You weren’t sure if this was a line he wanted you to cross. Or if you wanted to for that matter. Leaving it up to him you said, “You tell me.”

Crosshair stared at you for a few beats, looking between your eyes, but pushed up in the water as opposed to divulging anything. Drawing his legs off of yours, he stood in the water and silently climbed his way out of the pool.

He was shutting down and shutting you out.

Panicking, you stood to go after him, pleading. “Crosshair, stop.” Stretching out from the pool you managed to clip a finger. “Please. I’m sorry, I-”

Crosshair yanked his hand from yours, his fingers curling into fists. Keeping his back to you, Crosshair tilted his head like he was considering looking back. He was struggling and the panic of having broached the subject at all sunk into you.

Finally, his feet shifted and turned to face you again. His knuckles went white and he broke the silence, “You were… the first time Tech cared about someone other than our squad. I saw how he looked at you.”

Tech’s name stole the air from you. You’d not said it out loud in so long and this wasn’t the way you wanted to.

Crosshair didn’t give you a choice, he crouched to your level and continued, “But he wasn’t the only one who saw you.” He let out a low breath, like he was free of a weight he’d held for so long.

An odd flutter rattled through you. Perched there in front of you, Crosshair was every bit the sharpshooter you’d first met. Seeing right through you and something in his eyes. Something you were never able to place before now.

It was want. He wanted you.

The thought stilled you. He still wanted you.

Crosshair dropped his head, whispering in a pained voice, “And I couldn’t - I won’t-”

You couldn’t listen to another word, so you broke your own heart, you said, “Tech wouldn’t want you living like that.”

Crosshair’s head snapped up and he was just as shocked as you were. Shocked at you admitting a very hard truth.

You opened your mouth to say something, but couldn’t find a single syllable to say. Didn’t know if you even could if you did. Before you lost your nerve, you pushed yourself from the waters and looped your arms around Crosshair’s neck.

Crosshair remained firm against the weight of you, his arms hesitantly reciprocating your embrace. The two of you sat like that for some time, soaking wet and holding each other with only your breathing to the silence.

Clearing his throat, Crosshair gently untangled you. He pushed you back just enough to see your face.

His eyes fell to your lips and when he met your eyes again there was something heavy in him. There had always been something unspoken between you and it now sat like a hot coal between you.

Your lips parted and caught his attention again. He swallowed and slowly brought his lips to yours, pausing one last time before pressing into you. Your response was immediate, deepening the kiss the moment your lips met. His hands were quick to settle on your waist, holding you against him and matching your fervor.

You didn’t want to feel everything at once. You just wanted to be lost in the feel of Crosshair and forget the rest.

His hunger for you, buried for so long. flared to the surface. You felt and tasted better than he’d imagined. And he had imagined you often.

The burst of repressed fantasies caught Crosshair off guard enough that he broke the kiss. You were left panting and slightly dazed. Crosshair searched your flushed face for any sign of regret, but instead he found you doing the same to him.

This time you were the one to close the gap, gently pressing your lips together again. The kiss was softer and more intimate, allowing you to savor the feel of his lips. It had been a long time since you’d touched someone like this.

He tasted bittersweet.

Eventually you broke apart and both lowered to the ground. Crosshair hung his head back, sighed and a small smile lifted the corner of his lips. Leaning back on his good hand, Crosshair lifted a brow. “Was this your plan all along?”

You watched him for a moment, was he really joking right now?

Scoffing, you ran your fingers through your hair. “No.” Scooting over to Crosshair, you put a hand on his knee. With a genuine tone, you added “But thank you for coming out. And for-.”

Crosshair snorted, interrupting you. “That’s enough of that for now.” Rolling onto his back and looking to the sky once more. Closing his eyes, he murmured sarcastically, “Healing waters, huh?”

“Something like that.”

taglist: @baddest-batchers @bruh-myguy-what @jetii

#the bad batch #tbb #star wars #bad batch #tbb crosshair #tech #tbb tech #tbb crosshair x reader #crosshair x reader #crosshair x you #tbb crosshair x you #crosshair the bad batch #tbb spoilers #the bad batch spoilers

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lucysarah-c · 1 year ago

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Why do I feel like the moment you assume the role of Levi'a girlfriend, also known as Captain Levi and the Captain of the Special Operations Squad, AKA HUMANITY'S STRONGEST SOLDIER, everything changes? It doesn't matter if you're an extremely talented, independent, strong woman and soldier on your own. Your entire day becomes a series of "Babe? 🥺🥺 could you-?" moments. Before you can even respond, he's already taking the jar out of your hands and effortlessly opening it for you.

"Babeee? 🥺🥺" He's already climbing the same shelf you could have easily climbed, but he does it for you and grabs what you couldn't reach.

Grocery bags? You don't even have to ask; he's carrying them. Heavy equipment? He's taking care of that for you. Need to make a long jump to avoid a river? He positions himself in the middle to help propel you forward. If your legs hurt a bit, he's offering to carry you. Is your backpack heavy? Regardless of its color, girly or not, he doesn't mind; he takes it off your shoulder and carries it for you.

Princess treatment? Oh, no, you haven't heard of it… (sarcasm).

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the-crooked-library · 6 months ago

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The Gender Narrative - from Buffy the Vampire Slayer to A24

Alright so I know this topic has probably been explored to hell and back (pun intended), but a transgender lens reading of Buffy the Vampire Slayer has beckoned me for years; and seeing I Saw the TV Glow yesterday was probably the last push I needed to get this out in writing. As we know, the film features a fictional television show heavily inspired by BTVS - and the framing highlights the same aspects I've wanted to dissect, so let's dive into it.

Spoilers under the cut!

Throughout its run, and despite its imperfections, BTVS drew much of its messaging from 90s (and early 2000s)-era feminism. Buffy's presentation as a sparkly, pink, girly girl is central to her character and her destiny. She is an icon of what girls can do and accomplish, even with the whole world against them - and, in this context, it is absolutely, startlingly captivating that her personal life revolves around a perpetual struggle for her right to girlhood.

Despite being the picture-perfect blonde Valley Girl on the surface, Buffy often finds herself barred from that existence by her Slayer identity. She is consistently perceived as too strong, too capable, too aggressive, too independent, too dangerous - and, ultimately, too masculine to participate even in the most stereotypical milestones of a girl in high school. Still, that experience is what she craves the most; so she signs up for the cheer squad, she loves shopping, she runs for Prom Queen, and she goes out slaying in a halter top, with perfect bouncy curls. In essence, Buffy Summers is desperate to pass - which takes us to ISTTG and the root of its story.

The two main characters of ISTTG - "Owen" and "Maddy" - are obsessed with a popular YA series, The Pink Opaque; which, between its credits font, its girl power themes, and monster-of-the-week format, is demonstrated to be an in-universe parallel to BTVS. The Buffy equivalent - or, the pink, pretty, sensitive, and powerful Isabel - is a point of utter fascination for "Owen."

there are no good stills of her online yet please forgive me

She is everything he wants to be, everything he is meant to be; and the time he spends with "Maddy", wearing a pink dress, a pink ghost drawn on the back of his neck, the pink glow of the TV vivid on his face, is the only time he feels anything approaching to happiness or peace. The very first sequence of the film establishes that "Owen" barely responds to his own name, that his father is a walking threat of what society commands him to become, and that his mother is loving but distant. Even later on, when he apparently has a "family of [his] own", we never even see their faces. Within the context of his life, he is little more than a ghost, going through the motions; and as the story goes on, it is revealed that "Owen" is Isabel, trapped in a false reality by Mr. Melancholy, the Big Bad of TPO. Her heart was carved out, she is drugged, and buried alive; and the sound of her slowly choking to death overlays "Owen's" steadily worsening asthma.

There is no denying the truth of that alternate existence by the end of the film. "Owen's" life is a nightmarish suffocation. Isabel is dying from a life of a boy she never was - in what is, explicitly, a transgender narrative.

The same story is directly mirrored by "Maddy."

Within the premise of ISTTG, she is the similarly trapped and suffocating "Tara"; or, the second half of the Pink Opaque - who, over the course of the film, discovers the truth of their reality, returns to the world of the TV show, and then comes back, unwilling to leave Isabel behind. However, what is particularly notable is that while her character's name is, of course, an homage to Tara Maclay (made all the more obvious via Amber Benson's cameo), the "Tara" of TPO is nothing like the soft-spoken, pastel-wearing witch.

Instead, she is a bold, loud punk with slicked-back hair and a leather jacket, who snarks at the monsters-of-the-week and speaks in poetry - she's Spike; and that provides the basis for her dynamic with "Owen" throughout the film.

In the world of BTVS, Spike is largely presented as a foil to Buffy's character. He is her thematic (and extremely sexually compatible) opposite; and that extends to his own relationship with gender. His story arc is defined by his struggle to be perceived as a man; on the Watsonian level, it is an identity persistently overshadowed by his vampirism - and in the Doylist sense, his poetry, occasional eyeliner, and painted nails might have something to do with that situation. Regardless, it is a significant factor in his narrative, both before and after his original, human death - to the point where he bonds with Buffy's mother, Joyce, specifically because she "treated [him] like a man"; and in the context of ISTTG, the same themes extend directly to "Maddy." In S5:Ep7 of BTVS (Fool for Love), Spike states that "getting killed made [him] feel alive for the very first time" - and when "Maddy" returns from the world of TPO, she explains that the only way to survive what Mr. Melancholy had done to them was to bury herself alive and die in the false world. Her statement is a monologue of slam poetry, spoken without interruption and illuminated by the steady blue of a high school planetarium; and while "Owen's" experience of blue lighting is usually aggressive and abrasive, "Maddy's" is soothing. It is right. It ties directly to what she is meant to be, even as her story inevitably terrifies "Owen" - who, much like Buffy, is not yet ready to face the truth of who he is or allow himself to indulge the desires he's buried for all his life.

From what I understand, the finale of the film has proven to be divisive; some interpret it as hopeful, others as crushingly bleak - but as a BTVS fan, and a trans man myself, I cannot see it as anything other than a peak of sheer, overwhelming panic that is only experienced at the very precipice of Change. My reason for it is rooted in the parallels between the respective season 5 finales of BTVS and TPO. For Isabel and "Tara," the story ends with their apparent defeat at the hands of Mr. Melancholy; and Buffy's ends with her sacrificing herself to save the world. She dies. She is buried. And then there's season 6. As such, inevitably, "Owen" is going to accept the truth of himself; he is going to die, Isabel is going to claw her way out of a grave - and when she does, only one person is going to understand what happened.

In conclusion - they are T4T. To me. And to Jane Schoenbrun, I suppose.

#i saw the tv glow #buffy the vampire slayer #isttg #i saw the tv glow spoilers #i saw the tv glow analysis #btvs #spuffy #spike btvs #william the bloody #buffy summers #film analysis #jane schoenbrun #a24 #a24 films #a24 movies #btvs spike #btvs rewatch #queer film #queer lens

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seongwars · 2 days ago

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away with the wind | xiv

Pairing: dragonrider!Seonghwa x ex-dragonrider!Reader AU: dragon rider au | strangers -> lovers Summary: A spinal injury forces you to retire from dragon racing, and with it, the end of your engagement to Song Mingi. Park Seonghwa, a rising star in the world of dragon racing and heir to the prestigious House Park, seeks a new dragon after an unfortunate accident on the skyway. As the saying goes, “The enemy of my enemy is my friend.” Word Count: 7.5K (sorry!) Warnings: dragon violence, kidnapped children, swearing, mentions of blood

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a/n: this chapter's for the san girlies

Emergency Evacuation Order: Leave Immediately

A massive dragon has been sighted wreaking havoc, with confirmed reports of collapsed infrastructure, fires, and heavy casualties. Troops have been deployed in response to the ongoing destruction. All citizens are urged to evacuate now to ensure their safety.

San stood at the edge of the city, flanked by soldiers armed with automatic rifles modified to fire incendiary rounds. The harsh glow of searchlights cut through the darkness, illuminating the monstrous form of Yeosang’s dragon as it circled above, its rotted scales gleaming like a living war machine.

“Coordinates locked!” called an officer from the command unit, his voice muffled by the roar of jet engines overhead.

“Missiles are primed and ready, General Choi!”

San’s jaw tightened as he tracked the dragon’s movements. It wasn’t just a creature—it was a weapon, an apex predator bred for war created by the hands of man. Its talons carved into the sides of buildings as it perched on a crumbling skyscraper, its long neck craning to survey the chaos below.

“Negative,” he ordered. “We’re too close to civilian zones, we have to flush it out.”

A squad scrambled into action, launching rockets that briefly lit up the battlefield in fiery streaks. The dragon twisted in midair, evading the barrage, and, in a swift and devastating counterattack, unleashed a torrent of searing flames engulfing the battlefield in a hellish inferno.

The explosion shook the ground violently. San barely had time to duck as vehicles burst into flames, sending debris and shrapnel flying in every direction. Stelle folded her massive wings around him, shielding him from the onslaught. Falling debris struck her armored hide but bounced off harmlessly. Her golden eyes, piercing and insistent, turned to him with urgency.

“Drones, target the left wing,” San ordered, his voice rough but firm. “Smoke it out now!”

From above, a formation of drones shifted into position, releasing a barrage of missiles. The dragon roared in frustration as several struck its wing membranes, tearing through the delicate structure as the beast faltered mid-air. But as the smoke cleared, the hope drained from San’s face. The dragon flapped its wings once, twice, regaining its balance with ease. The damage had been superficial at best.

His heart pounded in his chest as he racked his brain, desperately trying to remember every detail of a dragon’s anatomy. He could hear the frantic chatter in his earpiece, soldiers shouting over each other as they scrambled to recalibrate their approach. But he forced himself to block out the noise, his mind racing through everything he’d ever learned from his training and folktales about dragons.

“The wings are reinforced,” he muttered, piecing it together out loud as his eyes scanned the beast.

“The scales are too thick for standard rounds... Headshots require too much precision…” His gaze darted across the dragon’s body, searching for anything—a crack in its armor, an unprotected joint, anything that could give them an edge.

Then it hit him—He could almost hear Jongho’s nagging as if he were standing right beside him, dropping a precariously tall stack of books onto the table.

“This is ridiculous,” San grumbled, flipping the book open. “Do you really think I’ll ever need to know the difference between a fire gland and a venom sac? Or the exact length of a dragon’s vertebrae?”

“If you don’t understand how they move, how they breathe, or where they’re vulnerable, you’ll be dead,” Jongho retorted sharply.

“What kind of soldier would you be then? You’ll thank me later!”

San had sighed, dragging his hand down his face, but the seriousness in Jongho’s voice had silenced any further complaints. He’d spent the rest of the night pouring over diagrams of wing joints and muscle structures, muttering curses under his breath.

But now, standing in the middle of a battlefield with a dragon circling above him, its eyes scanning for its next target, San let out a breathless laugh.

“The throat,” he said aloud, his voice firm. His eyes narrowed as he locked onto the underside of the dragon’s neck, where the scales thinned just slightly to allow for flexibility. It was a small target, but if they could strike that spot with enough precision and force, it might be enough to sever critical muscles and disrupt the glands beneath.

He tapped his comm, his voice cutting through the chaos. “Focus on the throat—right under the jaw! We take that out, we stop the fire.”

“Understood, General,” a voice replied, shaky but determined.

“Let’s fly,” San said, gripping Stelle’s reins tightly. She let out a fierce roar in response, her wings flapping open as she ascended into the fray, ready to execute San’s plan.

⊹

“Y/N said you had the coordinates for the kids,” Seonghwa demanded, striding toward Mingi.

Mingi, lounged casually against a van, barely sparing him a glance at first. When he did, it was with that infuriating, shit-eating grin that stoked Seonghwa’s temper.

“Well, hello to you too,” he drawled, his voice thick with sarcasm.

Seonghwa stopped a few feet away from him, his patience visibly thinning. “Time’s running out,” he snapped, his voice low but filled with restrained anger.

“Do you have the coordinates or not?”

“I do,” Mingi said, his voice firm, though doubt flickered in his gaze. He folded his arms, his stance challenging as his eyes narrowed.

“You gonna kick in the door and hope for the best?”

“If that’s what it takes,” Seonghwa replied coldly, his posture unyielding as he stood tall, meeting Mingi’s stare head-on.

“And if it doesn’t work, I can always call reinforcements.”

Mingi let out a bitter laugh, the sound sharp and humorless as it echoed through the room. He shook his head, the bitterness in his expression unmistakable.

“Reinforcements,” he repeated, the word rolling off his tongue with disdain. “Ah, I forgot. You’re always trying to play the hero, aren’t you? The golden boy with his endless connections and resources.”

Seonghwa’s eyes hardened, his jaw tightening as he took a step forward, closing the distance between them. “This isn’t about me. It’s about the kids and I made a promise to see it through. Either you give me the coordinates or get out of my way.”

“Enough,” Yunho interjected firmly, stepping between them before the tension could escalate further. His calm yet commanding presence immediately demanded their attention.

“This isn’t the time for that. Is there anything else we need to know, Mingi?”

Mingi glanced at Seonghwa, his defiance momentarily tempered by Yunho’s steady tone.

“The facility won’t be as heavily guarded as the lab,” he admitted, his tone begrudging. “But it’s still a stronghold.”

He hesitated, his gaze shifting to the ground before he continued. “And the kids...might not come quietly.”

“What do you mean?” Yunho asked.

Mingi’s expression darkened. “They’ve been through hell,” he said, his voice quieter now, tinged with a bitterness he couldn’t quite mask.

“The testing, the experiments—it’s messed with their heads.”

Seonghwa’s eyes narrowed, his hands curling into fists at his sides, but he forced himself to stay focused. Letting anger take over wouldn’t help—not now.

“How many are there?” he asked, his tone clipped, trying to push past the sinking weight settling in his chest.

“At least fifteen. Maybe more. It’s hard to say for sure. Some were... eliminated,” Mingi replied. The word came out jagged, laced with bitterness and contempt as he forced it out.

Seonghwa’s expression darkened, his brows knitting together as he absorbed the information. “Fifteen,” he repeated, the word hanging heavily in the air.

His mind raced, already calculating the logistics. Supplies. Transportation. Medical aid. The sheer manpower needed to extract so many—and that was assuming they could even move.

“And how many of them can even move? If they’ve been subjected to tests—”

“You think they’ll be marching out of there in neat rows? Most of them are half-starved, scared out of their minds, and don’t even know what ‘safe’ looks like anymore.”

Seonghwa’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t respond immediately. He knew Mingi was right; the kids weren’t just prisoners—they were victims of something far worse, and whatever strength they had left was likely hanging by a thread.

Yunho glanced between the two men, his own expression grim. “Then we need to be prepared,” he said evenly, breaking the tension.

“If we’re going to do this, we have to go in ready for anything—not just the defenses, but the kids themselves. Their fear. Their distrust. Everything they’ve been through.”

Seonghwa’s gaze hardened, the determination in his eyes unshaken despite the grim picture Mingi painted. “We’ll figure it out,” he said firmly, his voice carrying a quiet but undeniable conviction.

“We’ll need supplies—food, medical kits, and a contingency plan for the worst-case scenario.” His mind raced, organizing the next steps with the precision of someone who refused to let failure be an option.

“Mingi,” Seonghwa continued, his focus turning to his rival, “you know the layout better than anyone. We’ll need every detail—entry points, exits, guard rotations, weak spots.”

“Yunho,” he said, his tone softer but no less commanding as his attention shifted, “we’re going to need more than Voltage and Starshine to ferry the kids out. Find us extra transport.”

His words hung in the air for a moment, heavy with the gravity of the task ahead. Then, his voice softened, the quiet determination in his tone making it clear there was no room for doubt.

“But no matter what,” he said, his gaze locking on each of them in turn, “we’re not leaving them there. Not one.”

The brightness of the surgical light above felt almost intrusive, forcing your eyes to flutter shut. Each beep of the monitors echoed like a countdown, a reminder of the risks surrounding the procedure.

Your body felt like it wasn’t entirely your own—numb, heavy, distant. Even the sharp sting of the anesthetic was fleeting, overtaken by a spreading warmth that dulled your senses. Your head felt heavy, the edges of consciousness slipping further away with every passing second.

Somewhere beyond the haze, you think you hear Seonghwa’s voice, but you can’t make out the words. The last thing you saw before darkness took over was the bright light overhead.

And then silence.

“She’s under,” the nurse announced, checking the monitors. Steady beeps confirmed your vitals, though the subtle fluctuations suggest a body already trying to fight the invasive tech.

The surgeon leaned in, her gloved hands steady above the incision site. “Let’s get this done before the implant integrates itself into the spinal column. No room for error,” she muttered.

With surgical precision, she made the first incision at the base of your neck, the scalpel slicing cleanly through layers of skin and muscle. Blood welled around the edges of the cut, quickly suctioned away to maintain a clear view. Beneath the tissue, the faint metallic glint of the implant caught the overhead light, a foreign presence embedded deep within your body.

Her brow furrowed as she maneuvered delicately, parting sinew and nerves with control. Sweat beaded at her temple as she worked to sever the intricate web of connections between the implant and your spinal column.

Outside the operating room, your family waited in agonizing silence. Sunmi paced in tight circles, her fists clenched at her sides, nails digging into her palms. Your grandmother sat on the edge of a chair, hands clasped tightly in her lap, lips moving in silent prayer. Every so often, her gaze flicked toward the door, as if willing it to open and deliver good news.

The shrill ring of a phone cut through the heavy quiet, startling everyone. Your grandmother fumbled for her device, hands shaking slightly as she answered.

“Sangjoong?”

“I know this might not be the most opportune time,” his voice crackled from the other end of the line.

“But Seonghwa has asked for our help.”

Your grandmother’s brows furrowed, her lips pressing into a thin line. “What do you mean?”

“Time is running out,” Sangjoong said, his voice filled with urgency, “and it’s a long story, but Seonghwa has the coordinates to the location of some missing children linked to Cromer Labs. There are two dragons available to help with the extraction but he’ll need more.”

Chunja’s gaze flickered toward Sunmi, who had stopped pacing, her eyes wide as she stared at your grandmother.

“I…suppose,” your grandmother began, her voice measured but laced with an undertone of hesitation, “since the military is preoccupied with that monstrosity, the burden must fall elsewhere.”

For a moment, Chunja remained seated, her hands gripping the arms of the chair as though grounding herself for what was to come. Then she stood slowly, her movements carrying the weight of years spent navigating impossible choices. Yet, there was no trace of weakness in her posture.

“It will be done,” she said firmly, the hesitation gone from her voice. Her eyes burned with an unyielding determination as she tightened her grip on the phone.

“Tell Seonghwa I’ll bring three dragons.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line, the faint hum of static underscoring the enormity of her promise.

“I’ll send you the coordinates,” Sangjoong replied, his tone grave but tinged with relief. Without another word, the call ended, the screen going dark in her hand.

“You’re not really going, are you?” Sunmi’s voice broke through the quiet, tinged with urgency and disbelief.

Chunja’s lips pressed into a thin line, the weight of Sunmi’s question settling on her like a shroud. For a moment, she stood still, the silence stretching between them. Then, with a slow breath, she lifted her gaze.

“Aurora hasn’t been at war for 200 years, but we will be if we don’t stop what’s happening with that dragon.”

She paused, her gaze distant, and for a moment, Sunmi thought she wouldn’t say more. But then Chunja’s shoulders straightened, and her tone took on a deeper gravity.

“When I was young, the riders before me warned us of this. They said that peace wouldn’t last forever—that one day, the skies would burn again, and it would be up to us to hold the line.” Her expression softened, touched by a flicker of something almost mournful.

“I didn’t believe them. I thought we’d outgrown war, that we’d finally learned.”

Chunja turned, her eyes meeting Sunmi’s, sharp and unyielding. “But I look at the next generation—the children we’ve trained, the dragons we’ve bred full of fire and hope—and I see it in their eyes. They’re not ready. Not for this. If we don’t act now, they’ll be the ones dragged into a war they don’t understand, against an enemy they’ve never faced. I won’t let that happen.”

“If I have to risk everything to give them a chance to live in the peace we’ve had, I’ll do it.”

⊹

Yeosang stood atop the roof of Cromer Labs, observing the battle between humanity and Hope unfold beneath him. She was magnificent—his masterpiece. The way she twisted and dove, effortlessly outmaneuvering the Auroran military’s clumsy aircraft, filled him with a rare sense of pride. Her form was immaculate, every movement a testament to years of meticulous work, trial, and sacrifice.

The battle below was a cacophony of explosions, melding with the roar of gunfire, and the desperate shouts of soldiers scrambling for cover. Missiles and drones screeched overhead, in an attempt to land a hit on her, but she was too fast. Too agile. Every shell that came near her was met with a graceful twist of her body or a sweep of her tail that sent it careening harmlessly into the ground.

“Beautiful,” he murmured under his breath, voice barely audible over the chaos below.

Yet even as he admired her, a voice in the back of his head reminded him that the Auroran military was relentless. Squads were regrouping, heavier artillery was being deployed, and from the corner of his eye, he caught jets breaking through the clouds.

Hope roared again, this time in pain, as one of the jets managed to land a glancing blow along her flank. Yeosang’s heart seized for a moment, his fists clenching at his sides. She faltered in the air, her wings shuddering, but recovered quickly, retaliating with a burst of searing red flames that engulfed the jet, sending it spiraling in a fiery wreck.

Yeosang’s gaze returned to Hope, who had regained her momentum, surging through the remaining jets with determination. For all their efforts, the Auroran military was fighting a losing battle. Yeosang knew it, and from the looks of panic and desperation below, so did they. This wasn’t just a fight—it was a statement. A testament to the power of what he had created.

Smoke billowed from wreckage, the acrid stench of burning metal and scorched earth rising to meet him when a sudden, high-pitched whine pierced the air.

The strike hit Hope's throat before she could react, embedding deep into the vulnerable space between her armored scales. She let out a strangled, guttural roar that reverberated through Yeosang like a physical blow.

“No!” A shout tore from his throat, raw and unrestrained. His face dropped as he watched her writhe in pain, struggling to lift her head. Smoke and debris obscured his view, but he could see the harpoon glinting in the pale light.

Rage surged through him, hot and unrelenting, searing away any remnants of logic or restraint. He turned his gaze skyward, his eyes locking onto the craft responsible. It hovered ominously, its sleek design unlike anything the military had deployed before.

Then his eyes shifted, narrowing as they locked onto the unmistakable figure leading the charge—a rider atop a dragon nearly as formidable as Hope.

San.

“Of course,” Yeosang hissed under his breath, his voice trembling with fury. The strike wasn’t a fluke. It was a warning shot, meant to prove that San wasn’t just a soldier—he was a tactician. A predator.

Yeosang’s gaze snapped back to Hope, her massive form heaving with labored breaths as she struggled to push herself upright. Blood seeped from the wound in her throat, staining the debris around her. Yet despite the pain and the odds, she didn’t yield. Her fiery eyes burned with defiance, her growls low but unbroken.

"You think you can match her? Match me?" Yeosang gritted.

Hope let out a deep, guttural growl as she shifted, attempting to rise despite her injuries. The harpoon may have struck deep, but it hadn’t stolen her fire. Even through the haze of pain, she zeroed in on Stelle, her instincts sharp and unrelenting. She wasn’t done fighting—not yet.

Above, San’s sharp eyes met Yeosang’s from across the distance. There was no gloating in his expression, no trace of smugness. Instead, his face was set with cold, unwavering resolve. He wasn’t here to play games. This wasn’t a spectacle for him. It was war.

Yeosang’s jaw tightened, his fury simmering beneath the surface as his gaze flicked back to Hope, watching as she fought against her injuries, her growls deepening into something almost primal.

“Stand down,” San ordered.

Stelle’s wings shifted slightly, her posture tense, ready to strike at a moment’s notice. San wasn’t threatening—he was offering Yeosang a choice.

Before Yeosang could answer, Hope let out a guttural snarl and launched herself into the air, propelled by a surge of desperate fury, and in a heartbeat, collided with Stelle.

San, perched firmly on Stelle’s back, barely shifted as her wings flared out, catching the air with ease as she twisted to avoid Hope’s next attack. Her talons lashed out, grazing Hope’s shoulder and drawing blood, but the dragon barely flinched, her defiance burning brighter.

From below, Yeosang watched the clash with clenched fists, the battle a representation of the storm brewing within him. The air crackled with tension, the sky above him a blur of flailing wings, scales, and unyielding resolve.

Seonghwa paced outside the meeting point near the holding facility, his boots crunching against the rocky ground. The distant roars of dragons and the echoing explosions from the battle with Yeosang reverberated through the air, each rumble amplifying his unease. The rendezvous was supposed to be quick–yet, every second felt like an eternity.

On the horizon, shimmering forms emerged over the ridge, causing Seonghwa to freeze mid-step. Cirrus and Eos glided into view, their scales reflecting the moonlight even in the dead of night. Trailing behind them was a larger shadow that made Seonghwa’s heart drop. Dante landed last with a thud, sending tremors through the ground. His fiery amber eyes scanned the area before narrowing at Seonghwa.

“Lady Chunja,” Seonghwa called, jogging toward Chunja as she dismounted. Relief washed over him as Cirrus trotted forward, nudging him lightly in greeting, but it was quickly overshadowed by the audible huff from Dante. He swung his massive head to the side, a deliberate show of disinterest as Seonghwa approached.

“Seonghwa,” Chunja greeted, brushing dirt off her cloak. She didn’t seem winded from the flight, her composure as unshakable as ever. “Has everyone else arrived?”

“Yes,” Seonghwa replied, his voice tight. “Hongjoong, Yunho, and I will be assisting with the extraction, which leaves you and Lord Kim with our retreat.”

Chunja nodded, her sharp eyes assessing the surroundings. “Cirrus, Eos—hold position here. Dante…” She patted the elder dragon’s side, her tone softening.

“Try to behave.”

Dante rumbled low in his throat, the sound reverberating like distant thunder. His gaze shifted to Seonghwa, who stood his ground despite the tension crackling between them.

Mingi emerged cautiously from the shadows, his expression guarded as he approached. The faint tension in his posture was unmistakable, and his eyes flickered briefly over each dragon before landing on Chunja.

Your grandmother straightened slightly, her gaze cool and assessing. Though she was no stranger to second chances, her wariness of Mingi lingered, especially after all that had transpired at the end of your relationship.

“My lady,” Mingi greeted, bowing slightly to Chunja. His voice was steady, but there was a subtle hesitation in the way he spoke, as if testing the waters.

“Mingi,” Chunja acknowledged, her tone neutral but carrying the weight of her watchful scrutiny.

Dante’s gaze flicked over toward Mingi, his expression unreadable, though the slight flare of his nostrils suggested his own distrust. Your grandmother cleared her throat, reminding her dragon to stand down.

“What’s the status inside?”

Mingi blinked, as if shaking himself free of the moment, and cleared his throat in response. “The facility’s defenses are spread thin,” he began, his voice firm as he focused on the task at hand.

“Most of the guards were drawn to the city because of the dragon attack. We have a narrow window of opportunity.”

“And the children?”

“They’re being held in the lower levels,' he replied grimly. 'I didn’t see many guards down there, but the clock’s ticking. The longer we wait, the more likely reinforcements will show up.”

Chunja nodded, her sharp eyes narrowing as she calculated their next move. “Understood. Then we don’t waste another moment.”

⊹

Mingi slipped through the side entrance of the facility, the faint hum of the security systems buzzing in his ears. It wasn’t heavily guarded—not like the lab, but that only made him more cautious.

He adjusted his earpiece, keeping his breathing steady. “I’m inside. No sign of resistance yet,” he whispered.

The corridors were dimly lit, the walls suffocating as he moved deeper into the facility. The air was sterile, yet heavy with an unspoken tension. Faint sounds echoed—distant machinery, muffled cries that made his stomach churn.

The children.

He turned a corner, coming face-to-face with a single guard. The man’s eyes widened in surprise, but Mingi was faster. He grabbed the guard by the collar, slamming him into the wall with a force that knocked him unconscious before he could raise the alarm.

“Clear,” he whispered, moving past the crumpled figure.

Behind him, Hongjoong, Yunho, and Seonghwa moved into position, their eyes scanning the area for any signs of movement. Hongjoong knelt briefly by the guard’s body, ensuring he was fully out cold before signaling the others to advance.

They moved quickly, their footsteps muffled against the polished floor. The faint hum of machinery buzzed in the background, broken only by the occasional distant echo of voices or the sharp hiss of steam from the facility’s ventilation system.

They pressed forward, the dim hallways twisting and turning like a labyrinth. The air grew colder as they descended deeper into the facility, the faint sound of muffled cries and shuffling feet growing louder with each step.

Mingi’s chest tightened as they rounded another corner, revealing a large, reinforced door. A keypad blinked red at its side, indicating its locked status. His fingers flew over the keypad, his eyes narrowing in concentration as he bypassed the security protocol.

“Give me a minute,” he muttered, sweat beading on his forehead despite the chill.

The heavy door slid open with a hiss, revealing a dimly lit room lined with capsule-like pods stacked neatly along the walls. Each pod was just large enough to hold a single person, the frosted panels glowing faintly with a white light. Inside, children of various ages were curled up in makeshift beds, their faces pale and drawn under the dim glow.

As the door opened fully, heads began to turn. One by one, the children stirred, blinking against the sudden shift in light. Their movements were tentative at first—hesitant, unsure—before the realization dawned on them: the strangers were there to help.

Hongjoong, Seonghwa, and Yunho didn’t hesitate. Moving quickly, they slid open the pods, speaking softly to the children as they extended their hands.

“It’s okay,” Hongjoong assured, his voice calm and steady as he coaxed a young girl to climb out of her pod. “We’re here to take you somewhere safe.”

Seonghwa knelt beside another pod, offering a reassuring smile to a boy clutching a thin blanket tightly around his shoulders. “Can you stand?” he asked gently. The boy nodded, his thin legs trembling as Seonghwa helped him to his feet.

The children began to gather in small clusters near the center of the room, their movements stiff and uncertain as they clung to each other for comfort. The atmosphere was heavy with quiet murmurs and stifled sobs, a mix of relief and fear.

Mingi crouched near them, his tone soft but steady as he coaxed them closer. “Come on. Stay together and follow me,” he urged, his gaze scanning the group to ensure he didn’t miss anyone.

The children moved as a single, trembling mass, their feet shuffling against the floor as Mingi led them toward the exit. Each sound—the creak of the walls, the hum of machinery—made them flinch. Their fear was palpable as Mingi and Hongjoong worked quickly to lead them out.

From the shadows of the far corner, a figure stepped forward. It was an older boy, his frame lanky but strong, his expression sharp and watchful. He looked about seventeen, his dark eyes scanning the room quietly. His presence was commanding, a stark contrast to the younger children.

Yunho froze for a moment as recognition flashed across his face.

“Jinsik?” he called, his voice soft but filled with urgency.

The boy stopped in his tracks, his shoulders stiffening slightly. His gaze locked onto Yunho, and after a tense moment, he gave a small, sharp nod.

“You’re alive,” Yunho breathed, the tension in his shoulders easing as his expression softened. He took a careful step forward, as though approaching a skittish animal.

“Your father never stopped looking for you. He asked us to help.”

The mention of his father made something flicker in Jinsik’s expression. His jaw tightened, his eyes darting to the ground before flicking back to Yunho’s. There was no anger, no joy, just…shame.

Jinsik hesitated, his fingers curling into fists at his sides. The room seemed impossibly quiet, save for the muffled murmurs of the other children as they gathered near the exit.

“He shouldn’t have,” he muttered, his voice laced with bitterness and self-loathing. “It’s my fault I’m in this mess to begin with.”

“What do you mean?”

“I was just another pawn in Cromer’s game. They promised my family everything and I believed them. But it was all a lie,” his voice cracked, and he exhaled sharply, shaking his head.

Yunho’s heart ached at the sight of the young man before him, his shoulders hunched under the crushing weight of guilt and betrayal. “Your father doesn’t care about any of that,” Yunho said firmly.

“He just wants you back. You’re not a failure, Jinsik. You’re still here, and you’re safe. All that matters is getting you home.”

Jinsik hesitated, the lines of tension in his face softening slightly as Yunho’s words sank in. His shoulders loosened just a fraction, but the doubt in his eyes lingered, a trauma response developed from betrayal and disappointment.

“If it helps…” Yunho began, his voice growing lighter, an edge of warmth creeping into his tone, almost teasing. “I think there’s someone here you really admire who wants to help.”

The boy blinked, startled by the shift in Yunho’s demeanor. His brow furrowed in confusion.

“What are you talking about?”

Yunho didn’t answer directly. Instead, he jerked his head toward the far end of the corridor, where Seonghwa was crouched, gently adjusting the blanket around a young girl he had scooped into his arms. The girl clung to him, her tear-streaked face buried in his shoulder as Seonghwa spoke to her in low, soothing tones.

Jinsik’s gaze followed Yunho’s gesture, his eyes widening as he watched Seonghwa balancing the girl in one arm while performing a headcount of the children.

“That’s…” Jinsik whispered, his voice trailing off. His lips parted slightly, in awe.

“P-Park Seonghwa?”

Yunho nodded, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “The one and only. So, what do you say? Ready to get out of here?”

Jinsik looked down, his jaw clenching as emotions churned within him. Slowly, he exhaled and gave a small nod, his shoulders lifting as he straightened. The doubt in his eyes lingered, but now there was a spark of determination breaking through, fragile but growing stronger. Without another word, he stepped forward, moving to join the younger children as they huddled together.

The sound of boots pounding against the floor grew louder, echoing through the corridors like an ominous drumbeat. "Find them! They couldn’t have gotten far!" a voice barked, harsh and commanding.

“Faster!” Hongjoong urged, his voice a harsh whisper as he crouched beside the maintenance hatch, holding the panel open. “Come on, kids—don’t stop now!”

The children shuffled forward in a trembling line, their movements sluggish with fear. Yunho, his face tense but calm, stayed in the middle of the group, gently guiding them one by one into the cramped passage.

"You’re doing great," he murmured, his large frame shielding them from the growing chaos around them. "Just a little more."

Mingi stood at the back, his eyes darting between the approaching corridor and the last of the children climbing into the hatch. The walls groaned ominously, the aging facility betraying its fragility. A fluorescent light flickered overhead, casting shadows across the floor that made the younger ones flinch and cling to each other.

Mingi’s stomach twisted. They were running out of time.

“Seonghwa,” Mingi hissed, his voice low but sharp. “Take them. I’ll stay back.”

“What?” Seonghwa snapped, spinning around to face him.

“There’s no time to argue,” he shot back, his voice sharp but quiet. His gaze flicked to Yunho, who nodded grimly and ushered the last child into the hatch.

“If they see you,” Mingi continued, “it’s over for all of us. I can buy you time.”

Seonghwa’s jaw tightened, his hands curling into fists. “This is insane, you don’t have to—”

“I do,” Mingi interrupted. “They need you more than me. Go.”

For a moment, Seonghwa hesitated, the conflict clear in his eyes. But then Hongjoong grabbed his arm, his voice low and bitter. “He’s right. We have to get them out. Now.”

With one last glance, Seonghwa ducked into the hatch, pulling the panel shut behind him.

The corridor fell eerily silent. Mingi exhaled slowly, his hands balling into fists at his sides. The flickering light above cast a pale glow over the empty hallway, the stillness almost unnerving. The guards rounded the corner moments later, their weapons raised.

“There!” one of them barked.

Mingi stepped forward, raising his hands in mock surrender. His lips curled into a smirk that was equal parts challenge and disdain. “Well, you found me,” he drawled, his tone deliberately lazy and dripping with defiance.

“What now?”

The guards hesitated, their formation faltering as they processed the scene. Their eyes swept over the hallway, confusion creeping in when they saw no one else. This wasn’t what they’d expected—a lone figure standing calmly in the middle of the chaos.

“Sir…Mr. Mingi?” one of them stammered, lowering his weapon slightly. His gaze wavered, as if trying to reconcile the defiant man in front of him with the S-class rider.

The guards hesitated, their formation faltering as they took in the man standing before them. Mingi’s smirk didn’t waver, but his eyes tracked their every move, sharp and calculating. He stepped forward deliberately, forcing them to react.

The lead guard’s face darkened as he stepped forward, his weapon still raised but unsteady. “We were told intruders broke in. What’s going on? Why are you here?”

“If you’d stop pointing those things at me, maybe I’d explain,” Mingi replied smoothly, his hands still raised in a mockery of surrender.

“Unless, of course, Cromer Labs wants to deal with the PR nightmare of you roughing up their golden boy.”

At the mention of Cromer Labs, the guards froze, their faces a mix of confusion and apprehension. “He’s... he’s sponsored by the labs,” one of them muttered, glancing nervously at the others. “We can’t touch him.”

“You lay a hand on me, and I guarantee the higher-ups will have your heads. So maybe think twice before pulling that trigger, yeah?”

The guards grew more uneasy, their weapons shaking as they looked at each other in uncertainty. The tension was thick, but Mingi stood firm, appearing confident despite his racing heart. Behind him, the children's footsteps had stopped—they were gone and safe now. That was all that mattered.

Outside, Chunja stood rigid, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. The cold night air bit at her skin, but she barely noticed. Her sharp eyes scanned the surrounding shadows, searching for any sign of trouble.

“Jang’s a fool—always has been,” Chunja muttered under her breath, her voice low but seething. “Keeping Lady Lee around was his biggest mistake.”

Sangjoong snorted, shaking her head in disdain. “The man’s a walking disaster, as is, it’s pathetic.”

“She’s gotten comfortable—complacent.” Chunja’s lips twisted into a bitter smile. “That’s why she’s sloppy. I can’t wait until the Court buries her.”

Sangjoong’s smirk faltered, his expression turning serious. He pushed off Ventus, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “Still, we need to be careful. She isn’t someone you corner without expecting a fight. She’s got dirt on half the council.”

Chunja rolled her eyes. “A family man with a son who works in the archives is all the dirt they have on you,” she said sharply. “You really think that’ll stick?”

“It’s not about what sticks,” Sangjoong replied, his tone measured. “She’s clever, Chunja. And desperate people are dangerous.”

Before Chunja could deliver another biting remark, movement at the edge of her vision drew her attention. Her head snapped toward the building, her posture immediately stiffening. Beside her, Dante, Eos, and Cirrus rose to their full height, joined by Lord Kim’s dragon, Ventus. Their tails swayed low and deliberate, their sharp eyes scanning the shadows for any threats.

The heavy door swung open with a low groan, and the soft murmur of voices spilled into the night. A small crowd began to emerge, their movements slow and tentative. Children—thin, pale, and wrapped in thin blankets that offered little protection against the chill—filed out in clusters. Their faces were etched with exhaustion and fear, but Yunho and Hongjoong guided them gently, their reassuring words coaxing the children forward.

Chunja’s expression softened, the ferocity in her eyes giving way to something gentler, though no less intense. “The children,” she murmured, uncrossing her arms and stepping forward slightly.

“We have to move quickly!” She turned back to the dragons, her hand raising in a commanding gesture. “Cirrus, Eos, prepare to mount. Every second we wait, someone else gets hurt.”

The dragons responded instantly. Cirrus stepped forward, lowering herself to the ground so the children could climb on more easily. Her eyes were sharp but gentle, and she rumbled softly, as if to reassure the nervous little ones. Eos mirrored the motion, her wings folding neatly as she crouched, ready to bear her load.

Sangjoong moved to assist, lifting the smaller children onto the dragons’ backs. “We’ll need to double up on a few of them. There’s no time for a second trip.”

“We’ll manage,” Seonghwa said firmly, his voice steady as he guided another child toward Starshine. “The dragons can handle it.”

Chunja took one last look around, her sharp eyes scanning the area for any signs of danger. Satisfied, she stepped toward Cirrus, grabbing hold of the reins and vaulting onto the saddle.

The dragons rose in unison, their wings spreading wide as they prepared for flight. The children clung tightly to the ropes, filled with fear and awe as the powerful beasts beneath them began to stir.

With a mighty push, they launched into the air, their wings beating against the night sky as they carried their precious cargo to safety. Below, the ground quickly disappeared, leaving only the distant glow of their destination ahead.

“Where’s Dante?” Hongjoong asked, pulling Rami’s reins into an ascent.

Chunja glanced over her shoulder, her grip tightening on Cirrus’ reins. “He’s still down there,” she said calmly, her tone casual despite the growing tension.

Far below, Dante’s massive form stood out against the dark, his stormy scales blending into the surrounding rubble. The faint flicker of emergency lights played off his dark, iridescent scales as he prowled through the wreckage. Guards poured out of the collapsing facility, their shouts echoing into the night as they scrambled to mount a defense. Firelight built in his throat, molten and alive, spilling from the edges of his teeth like liquid gold.

“What is he—” Seonghwa started, leaning forward, but Chunja waved him off with a flick of her wrist.

“He’s finishing the job.”

Dante reared up on his hind legs with a deafening roar, his wings unfurling in a display of raw power. With a sudden exhale, a torrent of fire engulfed the facility in a single, devastating wave. The blaze consumed the facility in seconds, the flames hungrily devouring walls, machines, and anything left standing. Explosions burst like fireworks, sending debris shooting into the sky. The guards who had dared to give chase turned and ran, their shouts lost in the roar of destruction.

“That’s one way to put an end to things,” Seonghwa muttered.

Chunja smirked, leaning back in her saddle as Cirrus banked to give her a clearer view of the spectacle. “Efficient as always,” she remarked, completely unbothered by the destruction below.

Dante remained on the ground for a moment longer, his chest heaving as the last embers of his attack faded. Then, with a powerful leap, he launched himself into the sky. His dark wings cut through the smoke, and within moments, rejoined the others.

The elder dragon flew close to Chunja, his eyes meeting hers briefly. She gave him a small nod, her expression softening. “Good work,” she murmured, though her voice was lost in the wind.

Ahead, the other dragons maintained their pace, the children clutching tightly to each other as the wind rushed past. Chunja glanced toward the horizon, her eyes narrowing slightly as the faint glow of the Park Estate came into view.

The two dragons collided in mid-air, their snarls reverberating through the night as claws and teeth clashed in a brutal, primal dance. Scales and firelight flew, and the sky seemed to tremble under the weight of their fury.

Hope, undeterred by Stelle’s onslaught of flames, snarled in response. Her rotting scales shimmered as she surged forward with a burst of speed, her claws slashing through the air in an attempt to cripple Stelle. San tugged on his reins, guiding Stelle just enough to avoid the blow, the tip of Hope’s claws grazing her side.

“Don’t falter now,” Yeosang muttered under his breath, though it was unclear if the words were meant for Hope or himself.

High above, Stelle dipped suddenly, her wings snapping close to her body as she plummeted toward the ground. San's grip on her harness didn't waver, his focus sharp as he prepared for her next maneuver. Hope followed, her roar tearing through the night as she dived after them.

Stelle roared as she banked sharply to the right, narrowly avoiding another fiery barrage from Hope. San leaned into her motion, his gaze flicking between Hope and the horizon, where the military forces lay in wait. The plan was simple but brutal: lure Hope into a vulnerable position where her exposed underbelly could be targeted. But getting her there was proving to be anything but easy.

San’s sharp eyes tracked every motion. “She’s guarding her underside,” he muttered, frustration creeping into his tone. “We need to expose her.”

Stelle let out a snarl in agreement, her intelligence matching her rider’s. With a sudden burst of speed, she dove toward Hope, her claws extended as though going for another strike.

Hope’s jaws snapped toward Stelle’s neck, but the war dragon abruptly shifted mid-dive, angling her body away at the last moment. Instead of landing her blow, Hope overextended, her balance faltering as she left herself momentarily exposed.

“There!” San shouted.

But Hope was quick to recover, her wings beating furiously as she propelled herself upward to regain her position.

“She’s too fast,” San muttered, narrowing his eyes. Then, an idea sparked. “Stelle, we need to keep baiting her. Keep her focused on us, and make her think we’re desperate.”

Stelle grunted, angling sharply as she dove again. This time, her movements were erratic, almost sloppy, as though she was struggling under Hope’s relentless assault.

Below, military forces were in position, their weapons primed and ready with projectiles waiting for the perfect shot. Stelle dove low, her wings slicing through the air as she skimmed just above the ground, weaving a frantic path to evade pursuit. Hope surged behind, her larger, heavier form struggling to match Stelle’s speed. Forced to descend lower than usual, Hope pushed hard to close the distance.

San’s breath hitched as he watched the pursuit unfold, every beat of his heart mirroring the tension in the air. His voice rang out, sharp and commanding.

“Now, Stelle! Climb!”

With a powerful beat of her wings, Stelle shot upward, spinning sharply to avoid Hope’s snapping jaws. The maneuver left the rotting dragon exposed, her underbelly glinting in the moonlight as she struggled to adjust her trajectory.

From the ground, a signal flare burst into the sky. The first cannon fired, its projectile screaming toward Hope with deadly precision. It struck her exposed underbelly, exploding into a burst of fire and shrapnel.

Her furious roar morphed into a cry of agony as she twisted midair, desperately trying to evade further strikes. The second and third projectiles followed in quick succession, slamming into her with unrelenting force. Her mighty presence diminished to pitiful whimpers as she plummeted toward the ground, reduced to a flailing mass of wings and scales.

“No!” Yeosang fell to his knees, his outstretched hand trembled, as if he could somehow catch her fall or undo the damage.

Dust and debris filled the air, but Yeosang remained frozen, his face pale and contorted in disbelief. “You can’t take her from me!” he bellowed, his words heavy with despair.

“She was mine,” he whispered, his voice barely audible, the sharp edge of his anger giving way to an overwhelming grief. His chest heaved as his mind raced, grasping at the enormity of his loss.

“How…how could this happen?”

For a moment, all the fight drained out of him, leaving him hollow and shaking. Then, slowly, his grief ignited into something darker. His gaze snapped upward, locking onto those responsible. His jaw tightened, and his trembling hands clenched into fists.

Stelle circled above, her movements sharp and vigilant as ground troops swarmed around Hope's fallen form. On the lab’s rooftop, several helicopters hovered ominously, encircling Yeosang, preventing him from attempting escape.

“It’s over,” San called out through the cacophony of rotor blades and distant shouts. There was no room for doubt, no hesitation in his tone. His gaze bore into Yeosang’s, unwavering even as the other man trembled with the weight of his grief and rage.

<< xiii | xv >>

a/n: we're close to the finish line (only 3 chapters left to wrap up everything nicely) 😭 sorry if this seemed rushed, I had to cut 2K words of dragon fights and traumatized children

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