#little did they know what would be in store
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hope-for-the-planet · 2 days ago
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Trans person in the US. Bust some of the doomerism for me? Tell me it's going to be okay?
Hi Anon
Usually, I have boundaries for myself about keeping this blog focused on environment-related issues, because there are limits to what I can speak knowledgeably about. But now doesn’t feel like the time for that.
Anon, I will tell you that I live in the US, I am queer, my spouse is trans, and we have two young children. I am sitting right there with you in the fear and grief and every day when I ask myself “is there still hope” I find reasons to say “yes”.
They want us—all of us, not just queer folks—to feel overwhelmed and hopeless, because despair is a tool that keeps people from realizing their power and taking action.
They want us to feel so afraid that we lose our faith in other people and withdraw from our communities, because we are easier to conquer alone.
Do not give them what they want.
Hope is most necessary in the bad times. The ability to imagine a future that is better than things are now is exactly what gives us the power to begin making things better. Our community has been through terrible things before, and they did not lose hope or give up—otherwise we would not be where we are today.
When you start to feel like all the light is being blotted out, turn off the news, put away your phone, and go get in touch with something you love. Go outside and look at the sky, talk to a friend, listen to music, do some small thing to make something better even if it’s just cleaning your kitchen or picking up some litter around the block or returning an extra stranded cart in the grocery store parking lot. Remind your brain that you have agency to make positive change in the world through your actions.
I know it is really hard to pull out of the darkness sometimes. I know there will be days that hope seems like a foolish, naive thing, that despair and distrust seem like the only rational options. But hope is what keeps us alive. Hope is what allows us to save each other.
I wish I could give you a specific article or other source to reassure you that everything is going to be ok, but things are still too in flux day by day. I can tell you that people are already fighting back, in big and little ways, all over this country and the world. These orders and bills are being pushed by a loud but small minority—this is not how the majority of the country feels about trans rights.
Make a plan for staying safe. Reach out to your community. Find music, activities, podcasts, movies, whatever helps you feel uplifted and take mental breaks from dwelling on the news. If you can, find ways to get involved in making things better in whatever big or small way feels doable for you--it may help push back on the doomerism more than you think. And my inbox is open if you need to talk.
I wish I could invite you over for dinner. I wish I could look into your eyes and tell you that things may get hard for the next few years but that does not mean that your life can't still be full of joy and beauty and fulfillment in spite of that.
I’m right there with you. Let’s make it through this together <3
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formerplumi · 2 days ago
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( crow choir. entry two) ── ravens hiding in a shoe ( m.s | prev/next )
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IMPORTANT author’s note at the end.
note: this entry is entirely re-written. you can read the first, now “non-canon” version here. events there do not apply to the current story.
crashed out on the couch with some abysmally boring show on the tv and the filthy humidity of your apartment is exactly how you expected to spend the week. your phone’s acting all funky while you scroll through a net-tabloid about oliver green with a plastic pen in your mouth, the cracked blue paint on it crumbling onto your lips.
you’ve long since tuned out the annoying buzz from the faulty lights in the corridor, the sound of them breaking through your door like the thieves that take cover at your place often, and you have to set your overheating phone down for a moment before you get up and wipe a hand against your face.
shortly after turning nineteen, you’d moved out with less than a word to anyone, figuring they’d piece together your whereabouts if they really needed to. and you doubt they do, since you’ve been living in genuine, peaceful, boring simplicity for a few months now. as peaceful and boring as it gets in gotham anyway.
you don’t have many friends, have a side job at a corner-store that gets robbed habitually on tuesdays and fridays, and have to shoo away loud kids playing at the front like an old man. it’s absurdly mundane, and you can’t help but calm down from your raucous everyday doings.
you’re finding peace in the silent shadows that you used to fear as a little kid, basking in them to make up for the lack of sun in the city. the more you grow older, the more you change. it’s expected of course, but it must be odd to not have anything really stopping you from ever-continuous change. some kids had parents doting over them turning into teenagers, teasing mood swings and scolding more often. some parents teared up when their kid turned old enough to be called an adult, feeling eighteen years slip through their fingers like sand. you don’t have a mother to wipe your tears or a father who wants to pat you on the back for a job well done.
growing up in the wayne manor is an experience envisioned as boundless privilege, written about in absurd fictions by wealth-worshipping teenagers from other cities, and scorned by the angrier lot of the unfortunate here in gotham. and you suppose it is. it is a privilege, and much different from the life you’d been living before. you guess you’ve payed your due for living so selfishly in that luxury by being ignored all your time there. you know your siblings also pay for that privilege, in more difficult, harsher ways, with fists and feet and rods and ropes.
changing, changing, changing. you think that for now, you’ve stopped changing, thinking back to the numerous times your mentality morphed to your surroundings like an asocial chameleon. when you were very young, freshly twelve and thrown into a house with your real father and a permanent family, you hated them. detested them even. you’d scowl and hiss at any glance from a brother, any dignitary waving at you at a gala and even the greenhouse plants that withered upon your arrival in dismay. you hated your fathers ploys at power and sauntering smiles, the skin with which he shook official hands and the pearly teeth with which he grinned. you hated richard’s comforting nod, and the way tim talked to guests, the way alfred always knew and the way bruce never did.
but you softened. you matured, is that the word? you saw them in a warmer light after hearing a girl squabble and wail at her patient father at the park and thought with a surging need, you wanted that too. so you smoothened out your frayed ends, stitched together competency. it would be hard to raise yourself to your brothers’ level, but you could try. among the chaos of being bruce wayne, being batman, being father and being vigilante, you’d resolved to be a beacon of peace for them.
but what beacon could you have hoped to be, if your light was so dull?
they didn’t ignore you, no. your father’s eyes glazed over you, like the block of your body was an insignificant dot among many others. like you were a clear champagne glass, like the ones served at his galas, to be nursed all throughout the event, but never indulged. you’re lucky others loosen themselves at drinks though, because you’d manage to craft quite a respectable social image among his associates and guests. grayson junior, an old lady draped in large, large pearls, had laughed, a charming little thing with only half his enthusiasm. a washed out, non-temperamental, unfeelingly warm version of your eldest brother. a stain of what he was, and a poor attempt at following his example.
but you twitched smiles through backhanded compliments about your inheritance in the family, the ushering prods at you to speak to your father about a deal (you’d never even dream to) and various vain offences made a speciality by gotham’s elite class. you’d endured all of that with half the mind to sock those prudish grins right off, so that your father would recognise your discipline and nod at you. he never even looked.
and after attempts after attempts after attempts at harbouring their favour, to grasp onto this life and make the best of it, never let go, you destroyed the little smudge of any real anger you ever had. you were reduced to a plain slate, an unused blackboard, a project in the making. you had no end goal, however, no final version. ever-changing.
you began to resent them, once more. miserably sulking over “how could they?”s and then, “how dare they!”s. you took to meaner methods of nagging for their attention. always being at the scene of some altercation at school, having prodded or initiated a fight between people was just a perfect look. you could justify any slight guilt at seeing bleeding lips curved into bruised scowls directed to you by thinking, your friends were much worse! so there’s really nothing wrong. those guys are odd anyway, they had it coming. but even that changes, and you once again erode to nonchalance.
your friends, however, do not change, redirecting their focus from messing around at school to sneaking into bars and clubs with comically fake ids, slipping into petty crime and street-fighting, racking up tickets on their profiles like medals. but you didn’t leave them, no, you were attached. forget rose-tinted glasses, yours were bright, hot, pink, finding a way to justify just about every brawl they stuck up, every man they mugged and every shot they downed while being well under the right age to. but gotham’s an odd place, it’s not too absurd to see a bunch of scrappy fifteen year olds running about with forks and foxes in their hair.
and you stayed this way, morbidly going through long, lonely days of watching your siblings live a life entirely parallel to yours. an ache that carved down from your chest and across the first bones of your ribs became a permanent one, and your throat would sting far too often to be considered normal. you’d kick and scream and fight with anyone you could, breaking into gushing tears the second they looked away. always conflicted and always changing, it messed with you, especially with no one to tell.
your family would be out at night, fighting the very same thugs that your friends are turning to become, all while you languished through the day counting bills and reading licenses off the wallets they pocket. after particularly violent exchanges, you couldn’t even look at the warmth that radiated off of bruce’s hand on damian’s shoulder, dick’s grin at tim or cassandra’s strange card game with duke. you couldn’t want to be a part of them, because you knew that maybe, you never would be.
yes, they have bigger problems. and yes, you blend perfectly into the blur of all the hooded and masked faces of gotham, and yes, you never do any real harm. but you can’t imagine being caught, returning to such unpleasant ways of life despite being given a hand at the one offered to you on a gold-plated platter. guilt and pride fought with their fists in your head, the second beaming at the idea of their surprise and notice if you ever made a mark, and the first ashamed at the thought of it at all. but you couldn’t live this life.
so when it got too heavy, you made the quick decision to leave. you’ve been changing so much, doing so much. moving out of the manor with all the necessary legal requirements was the tamest of them. you made all the proper requirements, choosing to call alfred after you moved out with just the slightest hesitance, worrying that he’d snitch you out in a way that doesn’t seem right. doesn’t justify your decisions.
and it’s after your budding malevolence for the lame-vigilantism stream of gotham’s legality is relocated from the estate’s concrete, and into the plywood of your apartment, can you really feel satisfied with yourself. when you hide a scrambling girl with a gun in her sleeve from the officer that knock on your door a minute later, can you feel satisfied.
admittedly, it is petty to be harbouring the same small-time criminals your family tries to turn over, but who cares? your friends are among the lot, those who couldn’t escape gotham’s gravity and leave, coming through your door with botched noses and empty barrels, and you wouldn’t turn them over. especially not to people who turned you away. there’s an ebb of sadness, a doubt that asks if you could have turned out different, and you squash it with the joy you get at seeing the vexed silhouettes of the caped crusaders perched on terraces from your window.
and with a tremendous stretch and a yawn, you pull yourself and your stiff joints out of thought, going to open the main door after a squealing notification from a regular visitor asking you to open the door. the people behind the door change, but at least they always come back.
-
it was troubling to say the least, when alfred informed bruce of (name)’s relocation. of course, he’d expected at least a little knowledge of it from the kid themselves, but didn’t dwell much on that. according to his accounts and alfred’s motionings, (name) was well and enough the age to own an apartment, own it legally and without trouble, and sludge through the days just fine, since they’d speak regularly with alfred.
he does bristle at your unsaved contact number, noting it from alfred and resolving to call you later. he does however send it to the kids as well, asking them to check in on you incase they haven’t recently. he doesn’t know if they met up with you after you left.
right now, he’s more focused on a little branched out gang that the commissioner, gordon, was troubled with. the week had been relatively quiet, spending patrol through stopping little crimes and such. offering a little assistance wouldn't take up any time, and was a productive way to spend little time too, according to him.
he went through witness files, the crimes all regular, as regular as they get. robberies, violent fights, keying cars (bruce purses his lips at the immaturity) and more. one case however, sticks out. the members of the gang, group even, considering their lower than low presence in the crime world all seemed to disappear right after making turns outside an apartment owned by an elderly estate manager. bruce deduced that it must be their hideout, but couldn’t really risk chasing them in, since the building was well occupied by civilians too and it’d be difficult to figure out their exact residence without prior investigation. not to mention, a little background check assured him that the man running the place was not affiliated with the people gordon was motioning at, other than the fact he presumably (and unknowingly) was housing them.
but what caught his eye was the disappearance of a girl near the same place. a profile by another victim of the gang’s mugging described her as somewhere around twenty years old, or just an exceptionally old looking teenager. according to the poorly kept case files one of GCPD interns, she was not identified among the regulars, and did not leave the building like the rest of them.
the whole thing was very mundane, low-profile, and her disappearance could also be swept away as just a reconsideration of career choices on her behalf. a new member, who decided quickly she didn’t want to be a part of it all. of course, that’s rarely ever the case in gotham, and could very well set a stage for a suspected murder, kidnapping.
first things first, simply a checkout of the place should be enough to confirm any further decisions that he’d tell gordon to carry through. in the meantime, he ought to check in with the league, the asylum, crime alley and nightwing. bruce can be described as paranoid, even if very few people can say it to his face.
he prefers being prepared. if not the strongest or the fastest, he can be the most prepared. maybe, he was prepared for this too.
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“(name),” tim sighed, “won’t answer my message.”
bruce had put him to reaching out to his older sibling, over a number he’d spent a few minutes memorising before texting. dick, present at the time, insisted he called, but quit after getting a look.
he leaned over the back of the couch to see, staring into the chat. “let me see,” he prodded, “maybe you’re being too blunt,” tim raised an eyebrow at him, “not everyone can be as persuasive as me, you know”.
tim drake - 21:32
hi
where are you
(name) - 21:43
?
tim
you moved out right
where’s your address?
(name)
why are you asking?
tim
can’t i?
dick cringed at the screen, exasperated as he asked “really? right in the face like that?”. tim just rolled his eyes, frustrated, a little embarrassed. “just scroll.”
tim - 21:45
sorry
where are you
(name) - 21:56
dude
why do you want 2 know.
tim
bruce wants to know
read
(name)??
read
“very suspicious,” dick proclaimed, poking his shoulder, “i can’t imagine why they wouldn’t tell you. so surprising.” tim frowned, taking his phone back and frowning “look, i tried didn’t i? but if they’re not responding, i’ll have to tell bruce,” he ran a hand through his hair, “i don’t think he’d be much less conspicuous about (name) not telling us their address.”
dick nodded. when he first moved to bludhaven, he’d wanted a start as his own man, without the help of the batman or bruce. maybe (name) wanted the same? tim shouldn’t have said bruce wanted to know, he thinks, could’ve played it off as a “i want to visit". he suggests the thought, only be faced with an awkward smile on tim’s face.
“i don’t know if that’d work,” a short reply, “me and (name) never really talked much. it’d be strange to just butt in like that.”
dick hummed, resting his chin on the couch’s head in thought while he spoke “me and (name) have… talked a bit. send me their number, i could ask,” he elbowed tim’s head gently, joking, “one-up you.”
“you don’t have (name)’s number?”
“never had the chance to get it.”
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your thumb grows numb from pausing at an awkward position on your phone. stuck on the same chat for about six minutes. two new numbers messaging you on the same day, both from your brothers. you’d assumed it was a new phone from one of the girls, but the first was from tim’s saved contact, his personal one. of course, since you’d read the message, you had to respond, sending in an aloof question mark to dismiss him.
when the second one, an unsaved contact, messaged you with a whole lot of exclamation points after a waving emoji, you’d assumed it was a rebooted number of one of your guys. but no, of all people, it was richard grayson, your older brother. you weren’t daft when he sent in a message asking the exact same thing, your address, saying he “wanted to visit”.
did he take you for an idiot? you know it’s bruce who wanted to know, as stated so bluntly by your little brother. even if he did want to visit, you’d go five floors down hell before letting him come over. a thumbs-down reaction and shutting your phone off did what you wanted it to, slamming a figurative door in his face.
but what makes your whole body go numb and buzzing is when your bell rings. it’s out of habit of course, not a lot of people ring the door unless it’s the landlord or a visitor’s family member, with prior notification first. it could be just one of them, if it wasn’t nine in the evening. the only people who clocked in at this time were your friends, and they never rang the bell.
you peek through the keyhole, and your breath stills. it’s then when you back up from the door, cursing as an unnamed objecy clatters to the floor and miraculously, doesn’t break. you can hear the wooden plank of the floor outside tense, and you just know the person outside heard it. you can’t play off a “no one’s home” game this time, and considering who’s behind the door, you don’t assume she’ll leave peacefully.
you have to gather yourself, level your breathing, skim through quick backups depending on whether she’s looking for (name), her sibling, or (name) a crime affiliate. it’s been a minute, and you quell your nervousness, wiping your lips after biting them so hard, to open the door.
cassandra cain looks surprised, and her narrowing eyes make you nervous, even as you lean against the doorway. you pray she doesn’t read through that, giving her the blankest look you can, the same one you give to the neighbours when they come to complain about the noise.
silence. you speak up first.
“cass… andra,” you add, a slight hesitancy when you remember yourself, “hi?”
she tilts her head at you staring up with a look that could be described as innocent, if her lip didn’t unconsciously twitch when you glanced away for a second. gosh, even after having knowledge of her intellect, you’re still messing up. get a hold of yourself.
she drops her arms from where they were crossed, giving you a knowing look. yes, cassandra, i’m here, you want to say after deciphering that glare with a little trouble, holding it back. what’s she here for? you didn’t give anyone even an inkling of your whereabouts. did alfred snitch? but you never told him either. did bruce figure it out? no, you think morosely, you don’t think he’d do all that.
you try to play it off, a hand to your head, staring down with just the slightest feigned frustration, hoping she takes the hint. “look kid,” you say, voice carefully dry, “i’ve got shit to do, you need something?”, with a seconds’ hesitation, a little demeaning comment slipping out of your mouth before you can stop it, habit, “or are you girl scouting for bruce?”
nice. great way to go. not only does she know that you’re purposefully avoiding him but also that you don’t want him to know. your sister is incredibly adamant to being loyal to him, worryingly so, and you know she won’t let it go. you’re no trained mind-reader like her, if you can call it that, but even your heart rate spikes at the subtle tensing in her jaw.
she points at your apartment, careful, slow. and you frown, obviously. no, she can't come in. she drops it, looking away.
silence stretches on before she exhales sharply through her nose, taking a step back. she’s leaving, you understand anxiously. you know she won’t listen to you if you ask, know she won’t answer any of your questions either, but you try anyway.
“going off to tell bruce are you?” she pauses, turning around to face you again. you’re put off, straining the rest of the sentence so it doesn’t sound odd. you want to say, beg, don’t tell him, you want to say, snarl, get out. instead you just draw your shoulders in and return inside, shutting the door. man, you messed up.
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bruce is only momentarily distracted by tim and dick’s hushed talking, weary of what they’re up to, before quickly focusing back to the apartment layout he’s handed by the owner of the building, a mister ford, after requesting for it through a burner account. cassandra’s there too, dressed in gear to leave for patrol in a bit, getting a head start before bruce does the same. he’d sent her out to check the place out, maybe set sights on figures she could suspect to be a part of the trouble he was reviewing earlier, time-pass assignments to sludge through the dullness of the evening.
and she comes back with results, circling an east facing room on the third floor on the flat plans. he can’t help but notice a slight moment of hesitance before she does though, turning to bruce with her grimacing full-face cowl, a silent statement. he thinks about asking her, but decides against it. if she’s worried for their safety, thinks them to be innocent, or doesn’t want them caught, she must want it for some reason. he’ll make sure the GCPD knows after sending gordon's intern the file later, in hardcopy via an open window or softcopy through yet another burner account.
but it’s then when he catches a stray hiss from tim, a “just tell him later,” and pulls away from the screen for just a second. “tell me what?” a brief sombre octave to his voice, he knows it’s not wise to leave tim, of all people, hiding something. especially not moments before patrol.
the boy just shrugs, shaking his head, “nothing important,” he lies, “err… bludhaven stuff.” dick blanches, gesturing in a “what the hell?” manner and cassandra inclines her head. bruce sends in the file, before turning around with the slightest frown to his face. if you have something unimportant to say, the unsaid message floats through the room, say it now, before patrol.
before tim can though, dick gets to it first, a hand to his head in perplexed motion; “you know how you told us to check in on (name)?”.
bruce responds plainly, “i asked tim.” dick’s lip turns downwards just a hint as he lets his arm down, “i’m getting to that.”
“(name) didn’t respond to his,” dick jabbed a thumb in tim’s direction, “message, so i tried. won’t answer mine either.”
“so, you don’t know where they are?” bruce finishes for him, a hand yo his chin in thought, “it’s fine, tim, dick, i’ll see to it later. carry on with patrol, and if you have the chance to, look for robin and tell him to return to the cave.”
it’s funny to dick how easily he slips between proper names and aliases, even if the surroundings are occupied only by associates. paranoid, he thinks, uselessly so. cassandra clears her throat, causing everyone to turn to her, glance in her general direction since she's so well hidden.
she points at the screen, the file sent to a contact with the police department’s logo as its profile picture. her voice is soft, but holds a small, uneasy reluctance to it.
“(name) was here.”
oh.
oh?
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INTERACTIONS, REBLOGS AND ASKS VV APPRECIATED!!
- woah. re-written entry?? whatever for?? i overestimated myself.. got carried away and derived way off my ideas.
my exams are coming up and get dragged all the way into JUNE can u effing believe it. so obviously i wont be gone completely but will be kinda compromised.
i do still encourage sending in asks or ideas bc honestly without interactions idk what ppl think and i think thats important for any media u release into the wild,, to some degree!! also keeps the motivation to write up and stuff.
i have plenty things to add and a hollow head full of things to talk about which ill eventually get onto depending on everything. don’t take my characteristics VERY seriously and dont shy away from feedback.
thank you for reading!
# taglist: @cxcilla @strwberryglass @c4xcocoa @yaoizee @secretsandwriting @sirenetheblogger @charlenexoxo1 @mirabilis-polaris @jsprien213 @tfimherewhy @yuyuzi-ling @crazycaoticsimp @m0na-lis4 @trashlanternfish360 @thehammerx4 @ninihrtss @kaitense1
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fallinallincurls · 3 days ago
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Miles Away, I've Always Loved You
this is my entry for the 2025 winter fic exchange hosted by the lovely @wyattjohnston!! thank you as always for hosting!
my fic is for @writingonleaves! i had lots of fun writing this one and really hope you love it just as much.
hope you enjoy!! feedback is always appreciated! xx
word count: 5.1k
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The knock on the door startles Reagan out of her thoughts. She had been mentally trying to figure out how to organize the bookshelf in her living room now that it’s been built. 
The apartment is still mostly a mess. The move to Vancouver had been circled on her calendar for months, but Reagan knew the worst part about moving cross country completely by herself would be the unpacking and setting up of a new place. And so far, she’s been right. 
From putting together all the furniture on her own, opening and emptying box after box and feeling that same exhaustion hit her every few hours, the move has been an insane amount of work to say the least. But she couldn’t be happier knowing that she moved to this city that she’s still a little familiar with for the job of her dreams. That alone makes everything worth it.
There’s another knock at the door and Reagan lets out a deep sigh. She’s not expecting someone as no one in the city knows who she is since she just arrived three days ago. She abandons the stacks of books on the floor and heads to the door, wondering who could possibly be on the other side.
Without bothering to look through the peephole, which might’ve been a mistake, Reagan swings open the door to reveal a man she’s never seen before. He looks just a little older than her 25 years of age, has a big smile that wrinkles the corners of his eyes and his hair is neatly styled. Before she can even open her mouth to say anything, he’s already speaking.
“Oh, hey!” He says with an element of surprise in his voice. “I didn’t know Cap had a girl, but I’m new here so I'm still trying to learn all of that, you know?”
She doesn’t know in fact because she has no idea what he’s talking about and the confusion must be evident on Reagan’s face because he continues talking in effort to explain.
“Um, I’m here for the team dinner? Apparently it’s tradition here for the captain to host everyone before training camp starts and so I brought this,” he shows you a bottle of expensive wine and then a container of store bought cookies, “and these.”
Everything the stranger standing in front of her has said only made the situation more odd. Team dinner? Tradition? He clearly mixed up numbers and is at the wrong apartment.
“I’m sorry,” she starts, but is almost immediately cut off when another voice calls out from down the hallway.
“Jake!” 
The man turns towards the voice and a look of recognition passes over his face as his smile seemingly becomes brighter at the sight of whoever said his name. 
“Q!” He says brightly, before returning his attention to her. “I’m sorry, I must’ve mixed up the apartment numbers.”
“It’s no problem.” Reagan reassures him before he waves a goodbye and starts heading to the apartment next to hers. The curiosity gets the better of her and she glances over to see who “Q” was and that’s when everything comes to a halt.
Because Q, or cap as Jake also called him, is Quinn Hughes. Her ex-boyfriend. The love of her life. And now, apparently, her next door neighbor.
Quinn must have sensed another pair of eyes on him because he looks over and meets her gaze. A look of disbelief crosses over his face for a split second, his brows furrowed in confusion as he realizes who his teammate bothered in the mixup.
“Reagan?” 
It might have been two years since the last time she saw him, but hearing her name rolling off his tongue still had the same effect on her as it did then.
“Quinn?” She asks in response, unable to comprehend that he’s standing less than 100 feet away from her. Quinn. Her Quinn. 
“Yeah, it’s me. What are you doing here?”
“I, uh, just moved in a few days ago.” Reagan starts to explain and then a rush of worry hits her. “I finally got the job I’ve been waiting for and it just so happened to be here in Vancouver. I had no idea you lived in this building at all,”
“Hey, it’s okay.” Quinn says softly, cutting off her rambling. “Congratulations, I know how hard you worked to get through school and do everything you could to get this job.”
“Thank you.” Reagan murmurs, pushing her hair behind her ear and nervously dropping her gaze to the floor. All the heartbreak from the last few years has disappeared in the matter of seconds and it almost feels like she’s back there. In a time where they were still together and so in love with each other.
But Reagan knows that’s not her reality anymore. Now, she’s standing in her doorway looking at the man who she gave her heart to all those years ago, but now he’s almost a stranger. Just her neighbor in a new city.
“Uh, I know this is probably unexpected and way too sudden, but do you want to come over for dinner? There’s definitely enough food and everything.”
Reagan feels a wave of surprise wash over her at his offer and even though her heart is screaming to say yes, she knows she can’t accept. At least not right now.
“Thank you for offering, but I’m okay. Still trying to get adjusted and all. Another time?” She replies, trying to push away the want that’s arisen within her. She wants to spend time with him even if she hasn’t seen him in a while and her heart is still a little broken. Quinn nods in understanding, a strand of hair falling perfectly over his forehead, but Reagan sees the familiar look of sadness in his blue green eyes.
A loud yell erupts from inside Quinn’s apartment disrupting the quiet air around the two of them.
“I should probably get back. Almost the entire team is in there and I don’t trust a lot of them by themselves.” Quinn chuckles and Reagan feels a smile tug at her lips. “It was really great to see you. I hope Vancouver treats you well.”
“Thanks, Quinn. Same to you.” 
Quinn flashes you a sweet smile before ducking back inside. When the door to his apartment closes behind him, Reagan lets out a breath she didn’t even realize she was holding. Not only does she have to navigate life in a new city with a new job, but now she has to handle living next to her ex, the man who was her everything, on top of everything else.
The memories that came rushing back the moment she realized it was him standing in the hallway linger in her mind for a little longer. All the shared kisses, big hugs after good and bad games, nights on the porch at the lake house in the offseason, his unwavering support for everything she did, early mornings spent cuddling and so much more. 
Reagan knew when they broke up that she would miss him for the rest of her life, but it feels like the wound has been reopened seeing him unexpectedly in person. Of course, she’s kept tabs on him by tuning into a few Canucks games and for a while, Jack was sending her regular life updates but those slowly came to an end. 
Her heart aches knowing she is going to have to see him more often now that they’re neighbors. It’s a curveball she never saw coming or even considered when she chose to move to the city that he lives and plays in. But here she is. 
With a shake of her head, Reagan clears her mind and pushes open her front door again. There’s relief that the entire interaction is over, both with Quinn and his teammate, but in a strange way, she also misses talking to him already.
Nothing could prepare her for randomly seeing the man she still loved years after he broke her heart. 
A few days later, Reagan gets a strong sense of deja vu. She’s attempting to put together the coffee table for the third time, after the first two tries were unsuccessful, when there’s a knock at her door.
A heavy sigh slips past your lips as she drops the useless IKEA instructions to the floor. She’s already preparing a little speech in her head in anticipation it’s another one of Quinn’s teammates who got the apartment numbers mixed up again.
“Hey, sorry, Quinn is-“ Reagan starts as the door swings open and reveals the blue green eyed, curly haired hockey player who lives next door. “here?” She finishes, more like a question than a statement.
“Hey,” Quinn says, flashing that soft smile that makes her heart melt. “I, um,” he pauses, almost as if collecting his thoughts to get exactly what he wants to say correct. “I know how hard it is to move to a new place by yourself having done it myself so I wanted to help with anything you need. And I brought breakfast too. Hopefully your usual order hasn’t changed.”
Reagan’s heart swells with adoration, remembering this is the version of Quinn she fell in love with. The kind, thoughtful man who continuously surprised her in ways she never thought possible. And against all odds, here he is again.
She’s stunned into silence for a few seconds, overwhelmed by his offer. It’s genuine and shows he cares even after all this time but allowing him to help means spending time with him, reconnecting, and Reagan doesn’t know if she’s ready for that just yet.
But she also really wants that coffee table to be built. So for right now, the pros outweigh the cons.
“Thank you so much, Quinn. That’s really thoughtful of you and honestly, there are a few things I’ve realized I can’t accomplish by myself no matter how hard I try.”
Quinn’s smiling genuinely now. He can’t believe she’s letting him help despite the fact they haven’t seen each other in a while minus the mixup the other day. But he doesn’t care. This is his opportunity to catch up with her and he’s going to cherish every second.
“That’s why I’m here.” He chuckles in response, handing her the iced coffee and bagel he picked up for her. “Order still the same?” He asks again, more out of curiosity than anything.
“Order’s still the same. I’m more surprised you remembered it.”
Of course he remembers it. He remembers everything about Reagan despite the fact there was a time where he wished he could forget everything about her. He remembers the show she would only watch before bed and the scent of her favorite shampoo. He remembers the feel of her hand in his and the way he always felt so safe with her in his arms. He remembers her go-to lazy dinner and the songs she loved screaming at the top of her lungs in the car.
He remembers it all. But now, Reagan feels like a stranger for so many reasons.
Quinn takes this moment to really look at her. She’s still breathtakingly gorgeous. but he notices her wavy dark brown hair is lighter than he remembers it. Maybe she got highlights or has dyed it since the breakup. There are more freckles scattered across her cheeks than there were when they met. She’s wearing an old oversized Umich shirt that he realizes at the last second might be his. But when her brown eyes meet his, any anxiety he feels about this moment falls away.
This is still Reagan. His Reagan. Yes, it’s been a while but he knows her. She hasn’t changed that much. If she’s letting him help and being friendly, maybe she doesn’t hate him like he always thought she did after the way things ended between them.
“Of course I remember it.” Quinn says with a shrug, trying not to reveal how much he misses her. “So what do you need help with first?” He asks as Reagan waves him into her apartment and closes the door behind him.
Reagan explains her dilemma with the uncooperative coffee table which takes first priority before going through a small list of things she wanted to get done today like unpack her kitchen and finish building her vanity. Quinn nods along to everything she says, seemingly happy to offer his help even if he doesn’t] have to.
“Thank you,” Reagan says softly, the two words holding more meaning than she ever thought could be possible. Quinn gives her a slightly confused look as he sits down on the floor ready to tackle the coffee table. “For everything. You didn’t have to bring breakfast over and offer to help me get settled in considering we haven’t seen each other in a long time, but I really do appreciate it.” 
“I’d do anything for you, Rea.”
Hearing that one line and the use of the nickname only Quinn has ever used for her sends a shiver through her body. She feels her heart being tugged in his direction again even if it never fully healed from their end years ago, but she desperately tries to keep herself in check. Their relationship came to an end because of him. Quinn wanted to focus solely on hockey and his need to constantly get better on the ice was more important than keeping her in his life. 
So she moved on after he broke her heart. Or she thought she did until she saw him the other day. Her feelings have rushed back in no time, like nothing happened in the first place, but Reagan knows better.
“I know,” she murmurs, voice quiet as the wave of emotions hit her. “I’m going to start unpacking the kitchen. Let me know if you need any help. The instructions have been useless.” Quinn chuckles, that adorable sound filling her with a sense of happiness she hasn’t felt in so long. To this day his laugh is still one of her favorite sounds in the whole entire world.
For a good hour or so, the two of them work in comfortable silence. A random playlist Reagan selected is playing from a bluetooth speaker and every once in a while, she hears Quinn curse under his breath. She catches herself smiling a few times, the familiarity of it all bringing back so many memories. 
“Reagan?” Quinn tentatively disrupts the quiet as she’s reaching up to place a stack of plates in a cabinet above the kitchen counter. 
“Hm?” She hums in response, letting out a sign of relief when she gets the plates on the shelf. Quinn is grinning at the sight of her on her tiptoes trying to reach a higher shelf in her new home. This is something else that hasn’t changed since they were together. She still refuses to use any help to reach higher places despite being small enough that it would be beneficial. 
“Coffee table is finished.” He says, pointing over his shoulder when she turns around to look at him. “You weren’t lying about it being difficult, but it’s done.” A look of surprise crosses over her face and something about her right then makes Quinn’s heart ache. 
He knows he messed up when he broke it off with her years ago. His head was too stuck on hockey and only hockey. There was an unbearable amount of pressure on his shoulders after being drafted and he felt like he had to not only live up to the expectations, but defy them. And through all that, he lost the greatest thing to ever happen to him.
Reagan.
The woman who showed him unconditional love from the moment they met in college all the way through to the very end. Reagan who was there for every accomplishment and disappointment that happened in his career. The woman who always made sure he knew so many people, including her, were unbelievably proud of him at all times no matter what happened.
He never thought he would get to see her again and somehow here he is in her apartment that’s right next to his in the city that he’s been his second home for the last six years. 
“Told you I wasn’t lying.” She laughs, the sound filling Quinn with joy like it always has. “We can tackle the vanity next if you’re up for it. It’s a lot for just one person.” 
She leads him into her office where the unopened box is laying on the ground where she envisions the piece of furniture. Without a moment of hesitation, they get started on building the vanity as conversation flows freely. Quinn fills her in on everything going on with the Canucks from new teammates to how he likes being captain. She listens as he recommends some new restaurants and places to check out around the city and she fills him in on how everyone is doing back home in Michigan. Quinn asks about her new job and he can’t hide how proud he is when she tells him she got accepted into the Vancouver Symphony Orchestra. 
Reagan has been playing the french horn since fourth grade and that’s the entire reason they met in college since Quinn ran into her at a UMich football game when she was part of the marching band. He remembers being struck by how pretty she was then even in the slightly unflattering bright blue and yellow uniform she was wearing with her instrument in hand. Over time as they became friends and eventually got together, Quinn learned her biggest dream was to play in a symphony. It’s difficult to get a seat anywhere, but if anyone could do it, Quinn knew it would be her. Reagan was talented, always has been, and knowing all that hard work finally paid off makes him beyond happy. 
And secretly, he’s never been so glad that the music she loves so much brought her to the city he lives in now.
“I was nervous about being accepted. It’s one of the most prestigious symphonies on the West Coast, but I was sick of being in Michigan again even if I do love it there, so I took a chance and it worked out.” Reagan explains shyly, her eyes dropping to her fiddling fingers.
“Hey,” Quinn says, abandoning the half built vanity for a second to take hold of her hands. “I’m so proud of you. You deserve that seat and it’s incredibly brave of you to pack up and move halfway across the continent to live out your dream.”
They both are aware of the unspoken words there. That it was also brave to come back to the city where their love story crashed and burned.
“Thank you, Quinny. That means a lot.” The words are barely out of Reagan’s mouth before Quinn is wrapping his strong arms around her in a tight embrace. She melts into the hug, her head resting on his shoulder and lets the comfort wash over her. Quinn lets out a small sigh of relief. He missed having her in his arms and the feeling of peace that surrounds him is unmistakable.
God, he messed up so bad by letting her go, by ruining the best thing he’s ever had because he thought he couldn’t balance the pressure of being an NHL player and a relationship at the same time. 
“Good to know Huggy Bear’s still got it.” Reagan teases him, reluctantly pulling away even if she wants to stay in his arms forever. But she can’t. She’s not that girl for him anymore.
“Yeah, yeah.” Quinn laughs, used to hearing the nickname his teammates gave him years ago when he joined the team. He meets her gaze and it’s then that an idea hits him. Reagan can see the look of hesitation in his blue green eyes, but waits patiently for him to continue. “Whenever you get settled in here and everything, would you maybe want to go skating? I know we used to go all the time and there’s this cool rink downtown you would love, but no pressure if not. I’m sure you’re going to be busy with work and adjusting to a new city.”
Reagan knows she should say no. She knows it would be better to leave the past in the past. But something about the way Quinn asks with pure honesty tugs at her and the small hope that maybe their love could get a second chance after all this time blossoms.
So she says yes.
“I would love that. Just text me when you’re free and we can schedule something.”
Quinn’s happiness at her response is immediately noticeable even though he tries to hide it so it’s not as obvious. The smile Reagan adores so much is on full display and she couldn’t be happier to have him in her half furnished apartment just days after she moved back to the city where her heart was broken.
Before she can get too swept up in the emotions, she gently pushes Quinn’s chest and giggles.
“We’ve got a list of things to do, Hughes. Get back to work.”
And with that, both of them work together to get through all the tasks Reagan wanted accomplished. That familiar sense of peace envelops the apartment and for the first time in a long time, Reagan’s heart isn’t heavy with sadness. Instead, it swells with joy like no other.
Between Quinn’s busy schedule of games, practices and traveling and Reagan’s new work schedule of getting acquainted with the symphony and joining practices of her own, it took a few weeks for them to find a day to go skating together.
But in that time, a constant stream of texts were exchanged and phone calls were made whether Quinn was next door or on the road. Reagan learned all about what happened in Quinn’s life for the two years she wasn’t part of it and heard so many stories of his teammates and his brothers, who she also missed since she hadn’t spoken to either of them since the breakup.
Quinn got a glimpse into who Reagan is now and if possible, he feels himself falling even harder for her all over again. His feelings never truly went away but every time he heard her laugh or she shared a secret, he knew that even after all that time, this girl is still the one he wants.
Finally, the agreed upon Sunday arrives and Quinn’s quiet, but strong knock sounds through Reagan’s apartment as she pulls a beanie on her head. 
“Coming!” She yells, almost tripping on her way to the door. She’s nervous and excited all at once. When the door swings open, Reagan’s breath is stolen away for a second as Quinn stands in front of her looking extra cozy and comfy bundled up for the cold. His eyes are alight with wonder and his somewhat wild brown curls are peeking out from under his favorite navy blue beanie. He has a hoodie on under his winter jacket and there’s the faintest blush spreading across his cheeks.
“Hey, Rea,” Quinn greets her with a bright smile. The old nickname still sends a jolt of happiness through her veins even though he’s used it frequently over the last few weeks and she can’t help but feel hopeful. Maybe this is just the two of them going skating together, but there is a sense of something more in the air and if there’s even a chance Quinn wants to give their relationship another chance, Reagan is all in. She can tell he’s grown and matured in the time they’ve spent apart and if she didn’t see that, it would be much easier to ignore the feelings she has for him.
“Hey!” She replies, giving him a quick hug. Quinn is a little surprised, but welcomes the embrace for a moment before she pulls away and starts speaking in excitement. “Don’t worry about skates for me, I still use my favorite pair,” Reagan lifts her white pair of Bauer skates up and then glances at her warm, but cute winter outfit, “and I’m dressed for the weather since you said the rink is outside.”
“You’re all prepared,” Quinn chuckles, “Let’s go then.” He says almost sheepishly like he’s nervous all of the sudden, and reaches for her hand. Reagan intertwines her gloved fingers with his and offers him a reassuring smile to silently say “this is okay.” The rink is just a few blocks away from their shared apartment building so the walk over is cold, but brief and full of laughter and conversation between the two of them.
Reagan catches a glimpse of the rink when Quinn stops walking at the opening of a large clearing and her heart starts racing.
They are at Robson Square Ice Rink. The prettiest rink in all of Vancouver in Reagan’s opinion, but it’s also her favorite and was dubbed her and Quinn’s spot when they were dating. 
“Quinn,” Reagan breathes out in disbelief. She doesn’t need to say anything else, Quinn can read all the emotions on her face. He squeezes her hand in reassurance while flashing her a sweet smile before leading her to the benches to help put her skates on. 
“Come on,” He murmurs and Reagan swallows down the emotions in an effort to take in every detail of this moment. She immediately starts unlacing her skates when they claim a spot on the bench, but Quinn insists on doing it himself.
“I can do it myself, you know.”
“I know,” Quinn replies cheekily. “But you deserve to be taken care of so let me do it even if it’s just this one time.” Reagan sighs, in pure dramatics, which makes Quinn chuckle but her heart is warm and fuzzy. This is why she fell in love with him in the first place. He’s the most caring person she knows and would do anything for her. That much clearly hasn’t changed.
Reagan keeps her eyes on Quinn as he ties her skates perfectly until he taps the heel of her right skate to signal that she’s good to go and freezes. Her brows furrowed in confusion for a moment until it hits her.
Quinn got these skates for her years ago. They were her first pair and one of the best gifts she has ever received. But after taking them out for a few spins, she noticed that he had them customized. There was a little blue 43 printed onto the outside of the heel on her right skate which is exactly what Quinn is staring at right now.
“It’s still there.” He says quietly, tracing the two numbers before meeting Reagan’s eyes. It’s almost as if he expected her to cover the numbers up herself after the breakup and although she was angry about how everything happened, these skates are a reminder of the blissful beginning and she wanted that to remain untouched.
“Of course it is.” And just like earlier, this feels as if the simple moment holds a double meaning. As if that tiny 43 is a sign of hope for Quinn that he might get a second chance. That there’s still a spot for him in Reagan’s heart.
They share soft smiles and sit in the comfortable silence for a moment as Quinn puts his skates on. When Quinn takes her hand to help her onto the ice, Reagan lets herself be fully present. Months ago she never thought about reconnecting with the man who broke her heart, but now she couldn’t be happier that they’re friends again. She missed him beyond words.
It took a few laps around the rink to get her footing back, but once she did, she was challenging Quinn to races and constantly giggling as he tried to distract her from skating smoothly. Despite being one of the most well recognized people in the entire city of Vancouver, no one bothered Quinn on the public outdoor rink even if a few of the younger kids kept a watchful eye on him as if they recognized the captain of their favorite hockey team.
“How is it so far?” Quinn asks out of the blue as the two of them are skating at a leisurely pace. Reagan takes in the city skyline around them before meeting his gaze.
“Skating? Good! I always forget how fun it is and-”
“No,” he gently cuts you off and shakes his head, “I mean living in Vancouver. I know it’s been a huge adjustment for you.”
“Oh,” Reagan says in realization, taking a moment to think. “It’s been way better than I expected, honestly.” Quinn raises his eyebrows in surprise as an adorable smile blossoms across his face.
“Really?”
“Yeah and I have a sneaky feeling you already know you’re a big part of why that is, Quinny.” His cheeks become pink with blush and he looks down briefly before stopping the two of you for a second.
���Have you ever thought of giving us a second chance?” 
The question is like a punch to the gut. Not only because Reagan never saw it coming, but it is exactly what she’s thought of asking Quinn herself a thousand times.
Has she thought of giving them another chance? Yes. Every single day she wonders what it would be like to be his girlfriend again. To allow herself to feel the overwhelming love she has for the oldest Hughes brother. To feel at home again because he’s back in her life. And Reagan has come to realize that she wants a second chance with Quinn more than anything.
He’s proven that he has grown and matured from the man he was years ago when he shattered her heart into a million pieces. He’s shown that her life and her dreams are just as important and he’ll do anything he can to support her every single day. His love has been on display since the first moment she saw him in the hallway of their apartment building weeks ago.
“Yes. Every single day.” Reagan responds with nothing but pure honesty.
“Me too.” Quinn almost whispers, trying not to let his nerves show. He’s biting his lip, a nervous habit of his that hasn’t disappeared. “Uh, you can say no if you’re not ready or anything, but would you like to go out with me? On a proper first date? Again?” 
Instantly, a beaming smile is on Reagan’s face as his words process in her mind. It’s happening. Something she’s dreamed of for so long, it’s real.
“I’d love that, Quinn.” She hugs him tight, relishing in the joy rushing through her veins. Nothing could make this moment any better and when Quinn kisses her temple, also feeling the happiest he’s been in a long time, everything in the world feels right again.
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tkwrites · 2 days ago
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The Hughes's Take Hawaii: Maui Edition
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Photo from Instagram
Title: The Hughes’s Take Hawaii: Maui Edition
Author: Tory / @tkwrites 
Relationship: Pre-established: Quinn Hughes x  Sarah Roberts / Hughes family being family 
Warnings: there’s quite a lot of pining in this, and Quinn is more than a little mopey, especially in the beginning. There's one very mild family fight and lots of brotherly chirping. Other than that, it's mostly fluff with some angst.
Summary: Quinn and his family are on Maui for their first week in Hawaii. Without the knowledge that Jack and Sarah have teamed up to surprise him, Quinn is missing her and wishing she were with them. After all, summer is a long time to be without the love of your life. The family goes snorkeling, Quinn proves just how down bad he is for Sarah, and he asks his dad a very important question, which leads to a full Hughes family discussion. All the while, Sarah and Jack are trying their best not to spoil the surprise.
Word count: 7,000
Comments: I know this snapshot has been a long time coming. The rest of the story - when Sarah and Kylee come in to surprise their guys, will be coming next (posting date tbd). I have a love hate relationship with parts of this. Quinn is so, so piney, but also I can’t see him being any other way. In any case, I think it’s still enjoyable to read. I also really enjoyed writing more about the brothers' relationships with each other. 
Anonymous asked: Will we get to see the family in Hawaii before Sarah comes? Like I could imagine Quinn just talking about her a lot not realizing she is coming. Also I feel like it would be a good time for him to ask about using his grandmas ring.  Anonymous asked: I just read your snapshot where Quinn talks about asking his dad for his grandmas ring for Sarah. I hope we get to see that and he asks in front of his brothers and Ellen as well. It would be so sweet.  Anonymous asked: I was thinking about him asking his dad for the ring in front of his brothers and Ellen.  Anonymous asked: Does Quinn get mad at Jack because Sarah isn't coming on the trip? We know she's coming as is Luke's gf, but he doesn't know that. Does he blame Jack for that, or does he just embrace the brother and family time instead. aloragrace asked: When do you envision Jim and Ellen finding out about Sarah and Kylee joining them on the trip? Are they surprised, too? Did Ellen try to get Jack to change his mind only to be told the plan? Or one of the girls accidentally tell them? Many possibilities 🤔
The Hughes's Take Hawaii: Maui Edition
A Quinn & Sarah Snapshot
Upon landing in Maui, the Hughes’ picked up their car and got dinner before going to their vacation rental. It was a beautiful, modern house full of natural light and wooden furniture. It was the rich kind of beachy - all floor to ceiling windows, skylights, and open spaces with tiled floors so the sand would be easy to sweep out. There were stainless appliances and countertops made from the cross-section of a tree - raw edges and all. It looked impressive and expensive and also homey. The furniture was plush and comfortable, as were the beds. This was what a vacation to Hawaii was supposed to be.   
On the drive from the airport, they’d decided they should take that first day to adjust to the time change, go to the store, and relax before starting their explorations in the morning. 
After helping to unload all the groceries and luggage, Quinn pulled up his world clock to check the time in Vancouver. 8 here meant it was 10 there. Sarah would be getting ready for bed. 
“Hey,” she greeted two rings in, “you made it?” 
“Yeah,” he said, settling into one of the chairs on the patio, which overlooked some cliffs towering over the ocean. The sun was dipping into the horizon behind them, turning the sky orange and pink and blue. It was so beautiful here, it was almost surreal. How could anything possibly be this beautiful? 
“How was the flight?” 
“Fine,” he said, tracing the metal filigree of the chair. 
“Did you not sleep?” 
“Hu?” 
“You seem really tired or something,” Sarah said, sitting on her bed. He was usually a little more talkative when they got on the phone. 
“I just…” he knew he shouldn’t be feeling this way. He was in paradise, and he was with his family. Millions of people would trade him for this position any day. “I wish you were here.” 
Wincing, she stood to pull pajamas from her dresser. “I know, Quinn, but you’re going to have a great time with your family.” 
“I know,” he said, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. “I just don’t get to see you very much this summer, and I miss you. I’m still kind of pissed that Jack wouldn’t let you come.” 
Biting her lip to keep from saying something stupid, she responded to the only thing she trusted herself to. “I miss you too.”
“You even know Hawaii,” he continued after his deep sigh rushed over the connection. 
“I gave your mom a list of things to do,” she reminded. 
Even though she had given Ellen a list, she’d done most of the planning with Jack. He’d messaged her as soon as her flights were confirmed, asking what she liked to do, and if there was anything she hadn’t been able to do while she was here.  
He booked a helicopter tour she'd always wanted to take, but never had the funding to, as well as a kayaking and hiking trip she’d been on several times, and recommended to everyone who asked her what to do in K’auai. 
“It’s not the same,” he said, knowing he sounded like a child. 
“It’s not,” she agreed, “but you’re still going to have a great time. You get undivided time with your brothers, which I know you've been looking forward to.”  
Although part of him wanted to argue the point more, Quinn let the subject drop. It was done and couldn’t be changed. Even he was growing tired of hearing himself talk about it. When he was able to see past the yawning chasm of missing her, he was looking forward to the time with his brothers.
She seemed to sense the change in his mood and asked, “what does the house look like?” 
He switched the call to FaceTime to show her the view and then took her on a tour. Everyone waved from the living room, where they’d started playing chess, when he walked through. 
By the time he made it back to the porch, she was yawning. 
“I’ll let you go,” he said.
“I’m sorry,” she said, holding her free hand over her mouth. 
“No, don’t be. You’ve got work tomorrow. Call me when you’re off?” he asked.
“I will. Love you, Quinny. Have so much fun at the crater tomorrow.” Of all the activities they were doing this first week, this was the only one she was really sad to miss. She'd never been to the Molokini Crater, but the snorkeling was supposed to be unreal, legendary even. 
“I’ll take pictures,” he said. 
“I can’t wait to see.”
“Love you. Sleep well.”
“I will. Love you, Q.” 
As soon as they hung up the call, Sarah breathed a sigh of relief, slumping against the bathroom wall. It had been terrible to keep this secret from him, but now that they were so close to the surprise, it was becoming almost impossible. She couldn’t tell Quinn half of what she was really doing, and it was getting harder and harder to redirect his attention. Now, on top of all that, he was so genuinely sad she wasn’t there, it made her ache. She wanted nothing more than to tell him to just hold on for a few more days. Just a few more days, and she’d be by his side again. The surprise would be incredible, but the build up to it was becoming damn near unbearable. 
The next day started early - much earlier than Quinn was used to in the summer. Thankfully, the time difference made the 6am wakeup call feel a little less extreme. 6am Hawaii time was 11am back home. If he and his brothers hadn’t stayed up half the night talking and laughing, he would have been extremely rested. 
They had to drive to the west side of the island to catch the boat that would take them on the tour of the crater. His mom had done a ton of research and, Quinn was sure, talked to Sarah, and learned that snorkeling was best in the early morning or late evening. Always the early riser, Ellen had booked them a boat at 7. 
The Hughes boys spent most of the 45-minute drive slumped on each others shoulders, trying to catch some extra sleep. Poor Luke, stuck in the middle, got the brunt of it. 
The crater, however, was well worth the early drive and the long boat ride. Seeing the half moon of rock rising out of the waves while the morning light glinted pink off of the water as they approached on the yacht, made for an incredible sight.  
Once in the water, they saw fish and sea turtles and so much beautiful coral. It was a feast of color and texture. 
After diving for a while, Quinn let himself float, taking in the surroundings. More tour boats had arrived while he was under the surface, bringing more people and making the water more choppy.
He couldn't help but feel of two minds. It was incredible to be there and to be there with his family, but he found himself wanting to share everything with Sarah and to hear what she had to say about everything they were seeing. She knew so much about the ocean, and he had so many things he wanted to ask her about.
The peaceful scene was shattered when water flooded into his face as someone suddenly surfaced next to him. 
Spluttering and blinking salt water out of his eyes, Quinn laughed as Jack pulled his snorkel out of his mouth and gestured wildly, which only caused him to sink and splash more water around. 
“There’s some giant…” Jack paused, gasping for breath through his excitement. “Some giant thing over there,” he exclaimed, pointing at the east end. 
Quinn glanced over. 
“You can’t see it from here. Come on!” 
He hesitated for a moment, looking from Jack to the tip of the crater he was gesturing toward, wondering if this was some kind of prank. There was a crowd of people gathered, all looking the same direction, though, so there had to be something there. 
“Dude,” Jack said, an earnest, eager look on his face, “come on.” 
So Quinn followed. They made their way to the front of the crowd, and when Quinn dipped below the surface, a huge fish came into view. It was spotted and gliding through the water with lazy swishes of its tail. Compared with the beast, the people in front of it looked tiny, as if it could swallow them whole. 
“See?” Jack demanded, when they came back up for air. Pushing his shoulder, he sent more water over Quinn
“What is that?”
“How would I know? Some kind of whale?”
Quinn looked around, spotting his parents a ways off. 
After waving and yelling at Luke to join them, they all met in an open spot of water just off from the crowd. 
“Did you see the leopard shark?” their dad asked. 
“Is that what that is?”
Jim shrugged. “I don't know. That’s what someone by us called it.” 
“Kinda big for a shark, isn't it?” Luke asked. 
Jim shrugged, “Sarah could tell us.”
“Well, she’s not here,” Quinn pointed out, not quite able to bite back the accusing tone in his voice. 
“Can't you send her a picture?” Jack asked to stop himself from apologizing. He had every right to request their vacation to be just their family. Not to mention that Sarah would be joining them in less than 6 days. He didn’t need to feel guilty for anything, and especially didn’t want to ruin the surprise. 
“Oh. Yeah,” he supposed he could once they were back in the boat. “Give me the GoPro,” he gestured to Luke, making a grabbing motion. 
Luke passed him the camera, and Quinn dove back under the water.
Each time they surfaced after that, even if Quinn was still under water, at least one of them would wonder what Sarah could tell them about what they'd just seen.
All in all, they were in the water until 1pm, by which time Quinn was so hungry, he felt like his stomach might just eat its way right out of his body. He'd never been so glad for his moms experience as a hockey mom when she pulled protein bars, trail mix and even Gatorade from that giant beach bag of hers on the boat ride back to the island.
It was at least enough to get back to the car and find a place for a small lunch before going to the luau that night.
“Luke, are you ready?” Ellen called down the hall. She told everyone to be ready at 5:30 so they could leave by six, but Luke was taking his time. She wondered if he was on the phone with Kylee. 
“Yeah!” he called back, “just putting on my shoes.” 
In a list of things to do, going to a Luau wasn’t on the top of his, but his mom wanted to go, and, as his dad pointed out, she put up with enough stuff she didn’t like, they could spend at least one night doing something she really wanted. 
When they finally pulled out at 6:05 and Ellen put their destination in her GPS, she realized their timing was a little off. She’d been certain the center was twenty minutes away. They must have been further from their house when she looked it up earlier. Now, they were only ten minutes away and would arrive more than thirty minutes early. At least they wouldn’t miss anything. 
“Why did we have to leave so early?” Jack asked as they pulled in and paid for priority parking. 
“I thought it was further away,” she said. 
The boys looked at each other, wondering if she’d told them to be ready so early so that they would be there on time. It was a bad day to be punctual. 
A woman in a grass skirt and coconut bra welcomed them in without question, giving them each a lei, and leading them to their seats. The crazy thing was they weren’t the only one’s there. At least five other groups were already seated at the long counters overlooking the stage. 
Sarah called as they were waiting for the show to start. 
As soon as he’d picked up, Luke snatched the phone from Quinn’s hand. “Did you see the leopard shark?” he demanded.
“The whale shark, you mean?” she asked. 
“Is that what it was?”
“Who said it was a leopard shark?” she asked, giggling.
“Some woman near us,” Jim said, reaching across Quinn to take the phone. “So, it was a whale shark? Everyone seemed really scared of it.”
“That's too bad.”
“Why?” Ellen asked, popping into the frame. 
Quinn huffed. She’d called him, and now she was talking to everyone but him. 
“I mean, you shouldn't just swim right up to a wild animal, but whale sharks only eat plankton, so they're usually pretty docile,” Sarah explained. “There was one that used to swim by our conservation cove a lot that we nicknamed Ferdinand. He was always really sweet. We'd pet him and stuff, and he never minded.”
Before Quinn could break in, Jack was reaching across his mom to take the phone, “you're telling me I could have pet a whale?”
“A whale shark,” she corrected.”They're not really whales. They have different fins and different skeletal systems.”
“Whatever,” he said with an impatient wave of his hand. “I could have touched it?”
“Maybe? Was someone telling people to back off?”
“I don't know, we didn't get any closer than that.”
“You might have then?” How was she supposed to know when she hadn't been there? 
“This is bullshit,” Jack said, “I told you we should have gone closer,” he said, shooting a sarcastic look at his mom.
“I didn't know what it was,” she said, instantly defensive. “It was a big thing in the ocean. Big things in the ocean eat people.”
Sarah giggled, and unable to stand it any longer, Quinn interrupted, “can I talk to my girlfriend, please?” His demand came out strained and too loud as he practically lay across his dads portion of the table, reaching for the phone. 
Several people sitting in front of them glanced over their shoulders at his sudden outburst.
“Sorry Quinny,” Jack said, handing it back as he fought to bite back his laughter. He'd known Quinn was anxious to talk to Sarah. It was one of the reasons he'd been so quick to steal the phone from his dad before Quinn could break in. He wanted to see just how long he could stand it. 
Jim chuckled as he passed the phone to Quinn, knowing that this outburst would go down in Hughes family history. An instant classic, bound to be brought up at parties and dinners anytime someone asked about Quinn and Sarah. We knew he was whipped when…
Sarah was giggling when Quinn’s face appeared on her phone screen. She was anxious to talk to him, too, but she would be lying if she said she didn’t love the fact that she could hold a conversation with every one of his family members now. It was a relief, really.
“Hi,” he said, feeling heat rise into his cheeks as the reality of what he’d just done settled on him. He was almost always desperate to talk to her, but he could usually hide it better.
“Hi,” she said, a ghost of a laugh still on her face. 
Now that he got a good look at her, he saw she was sitting at her desk, wrapping her hair around some kind of contraption he knew was for heatless curls. He’d seen her do it once before: after they got back from their escapades in his parents' car in New Hampshire.
“How was your day?” he asked, trying not to feel awkward about talking to her not only with his family as an audience but a growing number of strangers in the amphitheater as well. 
“It was good. I finally got Walter to respond the way I thought he would with the dopamine. I figured out I was using too much. How was yours? Did you enjoy the crater?” 
“Yeah, it was so beautiful. I wish you could have seen it.” 
Even knowing he was likely going to say something like this didn’t stop Sarah’s heart from catching in her throat. She wished she could have seen it, too. It’d been on her bucket list the entire time she’d lived in Hawaii, but she’d never made it there. “We’ll go back someday,” she said smoothly, glad that she’d rehearsed something to say. 
Her response soothed something in him. Yes, she wasn’t here, but they could always come back another summer or during a break in the season. They’d have to come back eventually to get her tattoo at any rate.
“Oh, damn,” she said as the scrunchie she’d been getting ready to wrap around the end of her curler flicked off her fingers, sailing into the closet. 
When she got up to retrieve it, he got a clear view of her room. His eyes were immediately drawn to the riot of color covering her bed. Her space was usually very tidy, but today, she had a bunch of what looked like swimsuits spread out over her patchwork quilt.
“Are you going somewhere?” 
Sarah stopped, mentally cursing herself for letting the hair tie get away from her. If it hadn’t, he wouldn’t have been able to see the piles of clothing she was going through so she could more easily decide what to pack. 
Deciding to feign ignorance, she asked, “hu?”
Jack glanced at his mom, eyes wide. He was going to be so pissed if Sarah was about to blow the surprise over a bunch of swimming suits. 
Ellen subtly shook her head, trying to tell him not to react. 
When she’d seen Jack’s opinion of Sarah shift a little more after the family reunion, she asked him if, maybe, he’d consider inviting Sarah to Hawaii. It wasn’t that she didn’t want the time with just their family, but she hated seeing Quinn so moody when he and Sarah were apart. Getting that happy side of her oldest son back in New Hampshire made her rethink Jack’s insistence on the vacation being just them. 
That’s when he’d filled her in on the plan to surprise his brothers, making her swear not to tell anyone else because, “dad can’t keep a secret for shit.” She found herself surprised and so proud that not only was he planning something so special for his brothers, he was welcoming the girls into the family in a way he hadn’t before. 
Now, she was trying to keep him from blowing their cover by reacting to Sarah’s honest mistake.
After retrieving her hair tie, Sarah sat back at her desk and tried to keep her voice level as she told him a partial truth, “Jane, Eunice and I are going to the beach tomorrow. I was just deciding what suit to wear.” She and her roommates were headed to the beach the next day, though Sarah usually didn’t pull out every swimsuit she owned for an outing like that. 
He jumped on her story immediately, “not the black one.”
“Why not?” She asked, glancing over her shoulder, where it was laid out on her pillow, already in the ‘yes’ pile. “I thought you liked that one.”
“I do like that one. You look incredible in it.”
Incredible wasn't quite the best word - she could be on the cover of Sports Illustrated in that bikini.
“So I can only wear it around you?” she teased, finally getting the last of her hair secured in place. 
“Well, no,” he flustered, caught in his imagined jealousy of some guy seeing her at the beach with her friends, thinking she was hot and single. 
Pressing her lips together, she tried not to laugh at his flushed cheeks. “I promise I'll wear it the next time we go to the beach together.” If only he knew how soon that would be. 
It wasn’t quite the conversation he wanted to have as his family was around, but it was when they could talk, so he took what he could get. 
“Talk tomorrow morning?” she asked when he told her the show was about to start and he had to hang up.
He nodded, already planning to get out of the house so they could talk without anyone overhearing. 
“Okay, love you, Quinn.” 
“Love you, too.” 
“Bye, Sarah,” Luke said, jutting into the frame. 
“Bye everyone,” she said, breathing a sigh of relief as the screen went black. All things considered, that call could have been so much worse. At least she’d been able to redirect him away from thinking she was going somewhere. 
The lights in the amphitheater dimmed, and Jack couldn’t help but seize the opportunity to chirp his brother a little before the moment passed them by. “I didn’t know you were down THAT bad, Quinny.”
“Fuck off.” 
“Boys,” Ellen reprimanded, “we’re in public.” 
“He started it,” Quinn said, pointing at Jack. 
“I don’t care who started it. Watch your language. We’re not at the rink.”
Jack smirked, glad to have pulled the reaction out of Quinn he’d been aiming for.  
The next morning, Quinn woke before everyone else, having set an alarm expressly for that purpose. He wanted some time alone with Sarah, even if it was just to hear her voice.
The phone rang five times and went to voicemail. As he was checking the time — it was nine in Vancouver — his phone buzzed and her photo appeared on the screen. 
“Hey,” he said. The greeting came out as a breathed sigh of relief.
“Hi,” she said through a yawn.
“Did I wake you up?” he asked, guilt creeping into his stomach.
“No, not really.” He had, but she wasn’t going to make him feel bad about it. It was well past the time she should be up anyway. “What’s up?” 
“I just wanted to talk,” he said. “We didn’t really get the chance last night. Not about important stuff, at least.” 
“Important stuff?” she repeated, feeling hesitation flutter in her chest. “What important stuff?” 
“Just like, us, you know?” 
“I don’t,” she said, voice gone wary. What was he getting at here? 
“I just mean…” he sighed, deciding he should just be honest, “I just want to hear your voice. Hear about your week.” 
“That’s the important stuff?” she asked, feeling a little whiplashed. 
“It’s important to me.” 
Something in her melted. “I thought I’d pissed you off or something.” 
“No. I’m just –” he was just desperate is what he was, and the longer they were apart, the harder it was to hide it. “I miss you.”
“I miss you too, Quinn,” she said,
“Just want to have a conversation with you where I get to keep you to myself,” he confessed. 
“Is this your way of telling me you want to have phone sex?” she asked, her voice lilted with teasing. 
“I mean, I'm on a public street right now, which would be a little awkward, but if you want to get yourself off, I wouldn’t say no.”
She laughed, and he smiled at the sound.  
“So how was your week?” 
“Good,” she told him about the tour she’d given to a rowdy bunch of daycare kids, one of whom fell into the touch tank while trying to pet the sting ray on the other side, and the string of experiments that all failed until they hadn’t. 
It wasn’t as good as having her with him, but hearing her while he walked in such a beautiful place made her not being there more bearable than it had been. 
He told her about the snorkeling, making sure to let her know everyone in his family mentioned wanting her around so she could tell them what they were looking at. 
She smiled, thinking of the snorkeling cove she planned to take them to on K’awai. They’d get that chance, at least. 
“So what are you doing next week?” he asked. He knew they’d talk before then, but he liked to know her plans so he could mentally picture where she’d be.
“Going to Trav’s house tomorrow” she said, “and then I have to cram a bunch of stuff in on Monday since I won’t be back to work…” she trailed off, mentally cursing herself.  She’d managed to keep this secret from him for two months through two family vacations, and now she’d almost given it up twice in a span of less than twenty-four hours. 
“Why are you only working on Monday?” he asked. She hadn’t told him she had any big plans. He would have remembered. 
“I —” her mind raced. “They asked me to help out at the rehab hospital with Dr. Forrest,” she lied. They were real plans, but they wouldn’t be taking place for another few weeks. “He wants me to get more exposure to that side of things.”
“That’s awesome, Sar,” he said. If he hadn’t known better, he would have thought Sarah was lying. She usually halted like that when she was lying. But why would she lie about this? She’d been wanting to break into the research unit for months. 
Sarah breathed a silent sigh of relief, glad to have dodged that bullet. 
“I wish you were coming here,” he said. 
“I know, Q,” she said, “but we’ll see each other soon.” It was the same answer she’d been giving him all summer. He just didn’t know soon would be much sooner than he expected. “And I’m glad you’re getting family time in.” 
The call continued as he made his way back to the house. They talked about nothing and everything and made plans for her trip to Michigan. 
“I can’t wait to show you the lake,” he said. “It’s so peaceful out there.” 
“It sounds really nice.” She knew Quinn loved it in Michigan and that it was more home than anywhere else for him. “I want to see campus, too.” 
He beamed. “I’ve gotta take you to Yost. It’s like…”
He was going to tell her it was like a cathedral, but she didn’t finish his sentence. He’d brought it up every time they talked about the Michigan trip. She liked the way he talked about it — with reverence and steeped in memory. It obviously meant so much to him, she couldn’t wait to see him there. 
“It’s like a cathedral,” he said dreamily.
“I can’t wait.” 
He was back at the house now. He could see Jack at the stove and his parents in the kitchen, preparing coffee. Luke must still be asleep.
Sliding into one of the metal deck chairs, he knew he needed to end the call but put it off a little while longer. Having to say goodbye was the worst part of any phone call with Sarah.
“Are you back at the house?” she asked. 
“How’d you know?” 
“It sounds different. And I can tell you’re not walking anymore.” 
Laughing a little, he marveled at her attention to detail. These little things made him feel seen, like she was really paying attention. 
“I guess I have to let you go,” she said, and he was glad she was doing the hard part this time. 
“I don’t want to,” he said, surprised to find there was no whine in his voice. It was just a statement of fact. He didn’t want to let her go.
“I know, but we’ll be together before you know it.” 
He was never doing a summer like this again. “Yeah.” 
“I love you, Quinn.”
“I love you, too, Sarah.” 
“We’ll talk soon?” 
“Yeah. Tomorrow?”
“Sounds perfect. I’m free anytime before four. I love you.” 
“Love you, too.” 
She even did the hardest part for him and hung up the phone. 
Sighing, he lay his head back against the cold metal of the seat as the hand holding his phone fell into his lap.
“Was that Sarah?” his dad asked, coming out to the porch with a mug of coffee.
“Yeah,” Quinn said, still looking up at the sky. 
“I’m sorry she couldn’t be here.” 
“Me too.” 
“You know Jack means well.”
“I know,” Quinn admitted with a sigh. “I just — I miss her, you know?” 
Jim hadn’t felt the kind of honeymoon love in a long time, but he remembered it clearly. Wanting to spend every moment he could with Ellen, and feeling like time without her was time wasted. Looking back on it now, it seemed like some kind of euphoric fever dream. He got glimpses of it every once in a while, but the settled, understanding, companionable kind of love he and Ellen shared now wasn’t something he’d be willing to give up for anything.
“You really love her, don’t you?” 
“Yeah, I do.” It felt nice to say it out loud to someone else. He knew he loved Sarah. He’d known for a long time, but to be able to voice it to someone else made it more real. 
 “I was actually wondering —” Quinn cut himself off. Was he really about to ask this question?
His dad nodded, encouraging him to go on as he took a sip from his mug. 
“If I could use grandma's ring?” he asked in a rush, forcing the words out before he lost the nerve. 
When his grandmother had died, she gifted a ring to each of her children. Jim walked out with her engagement ring, and the romantic streak in Quinn had always imagined using it as his own engagement ring when he found someone he wanted to marry.
Jim’s eyes widened in shock. He knew Quinn and Sarah were serious and likely headed toward marriage, but Quinn was usually more level-headed than this. 
“Not now!” he jumped to clarify, practically shouting. His voice grew softer as he continued to explain, “we haven’t even been dating a year. I don’t want to marry her right now, but I’ve never felt like this before, and I…I always imagined proposing with that ring.” Quinn felt a blush flood his cheeks with the admission. “I think Sarah would really like it. She’s not one to like something flashy, you know?” 
“I didn’t know you were even interested in that ring,” Jim admitted. He’d figured none of the boys would actually use it, and it would eventually go to one of their daughters-in-law if she thought it was pretty. More likely, he thought it would end up with one of his nieces. Ellen wore it occasionally on a night out, but the women his boys dated all seemed like they would like something more…well, something more. He agreed that Sarah did seem the type to want something more practical. 
“I just…” Quinn paused, trying to find the right words, “you always talked about one of us giving it to our future wife.”
Jim had no idea that sentiment had actually stuck. Plus, things were so different now that all of them had multi-million dollar salaries. Who would choose an old heirloom with a few small, bright diamonds over a giant rock like he saw most players' wives wearing?
“We’ll have to make sure it’s okay with your brothers,” he said. It felt sort of perfunctory, but he couldn’t just go giving something to one of them without talking to the other boys, too. 
He nodded.
“We could always ask now,” Jim offered, noticing Quinn playing with the fabric of his basketball shorts. It was one of his nervous tells. “I think Jack’s almost got breakfast ready.” That was something he’d never expected to say while on vacation, but the boys had all volunteered to cook breakfast as they were shopping. He knew, more than anything, it was a surefire way for each of them to get what they wanted at least once, but as a parent, he’d take what he could get. 
Quinn agreed. He wanted to have the idea settled. He’d been sitting with it enough now that he knew he wanted to marry Sarah. He wasn’t going to barge forward just yet. They needed to know each other through all four seasons and live together before he did, but as long as everything continued on the path it was on now, he wanted a ring on her finger. He wanted to make it official in every way possible.
The rest of the family was around the table when they walked back inside. 
“Took you long enough,” Jack huffed, going to the stove to bring over the eggs, bacon, and pancakes he’d made. 
“We were just talking,” Jim said casually, taking his seat across from Ellen. 
“Yeah?” she asked, spooning scrambled eggs onto her plate. 
“Quinn has a question for everyone.” 
They all turned to look at him expectantly. He should have known his dad wouldn’t let him off easy. He always wanted his sons to do the hard work.
“I…” he cleared his throat, “I was asking dad if I could use grandma's ring.” 
Before the freak out he could see building on Jack and Luke’s faces came about, he rushed to continue, “not now. I don’t want to propose now, but eventually. I’ve always wanted to use that ring.” 
Instead of a freakout, Luke’s fork clattered to his plate, exploding a small mound of scrambled egg over the table. “I want to use that ring,” he said, his voice on the cusp of a whine. He and Kylee had been dating the longest. They should have first dibs, even if Quinn was the oldest, and he and Sarah might be closer to actually getting married. 
“I’ve thought about it, too,” Jack admitted, staring down at his plate. 
Jim looked across the table to Ellen, who’s surprised expression mirrored his own. 
“I suppose,” Ellen said, “it would go to the first one of you to get married.”
“Hmm,” Jim pulled a face, “I don’t want any of them rushing into marriage just so they can have it.”
All three of his sons slumped into their seats in identical expressions of defeat. He almost laughed. Sometimes, it felt like they forgot who raised them. 
“Who gets it, then?” Quinn asked, pushing his eggs around his plate.
“Well, traditionally, it would go to the oldest, right?” Ellen asked, looking at Jim for backup. 
“That’s not fair!” Luke burst out, his youngest child whine coming out. “It shouldn’t go to Quinn just because he’s oldest. It’s not my fault,” he pointed a finger at his own chest, “I was born last!” 
A heavy silence spilled over the table.
“We could get copies made,” she suggested when Jim didn’t say anything, She wasn’t about to touch that with a ten foot pole. She’d always thought inheritance in male birthright order was stupid, but she didn’t have another solution.
Jack snorted, “yeah because that’s not weird.” As much as he wanted to, Jack knew he didn’t really have a claim in the conversation. Luke and Quinn both had serious girlfriends, and Jack hadn’t dated anyone for more than three months since he and Madison broke up. He felt so separate from his brothers in this and nearly suggested that he ought to be the one to get it since he was the only single one. They already had girlfriends. Why should they get thing ring, too? Even thinking it, he knew it didn’t make any sense. 
“What’s so weird? You all like it.”
“Because it belonged to grandma,” Luke said, “not because of what it looks like.” 
“If you can’t decide, you could all use it as your engagement ring - give it back after the wedding,” Jim offered. 
Quinn grimaced. Glancing up, he found an identical expression on Luke’s face. Jack was staring at his plate, forlorn.
“I hate that idea,” Quinn said when no one else spoke up. Then, he shoved a forkful of eggs into his mouth to stop himself from saying something stupid like that he’d rather Luke have the ring than make Sarah give it back after they got married. If he said that out loud, Luke would jump on it — he would too if the roles were reversed — and he wasn’t ready to give up just yet. If it came down to it, he’d give it to Luke, but he wanted his shot. 
“Well,” Ellen said, stepping into the diplomatic role once again, “since none of you are ready to get married just yet, we have some time to figure out what to do.” 
“Yeah,” all three of them said in matching tones of resignation. 
They spent that afternoon at one of the most beautiful golf courses they’d ever seen. Luke won by one stroke, and Quinn couldn’t help but think Sarah would have taken them all to task if she was there. 
The next day found them at a small beach, trying to surf. The actual surfing wasn’t a problem. They all had excellent balance and wake surfed in the lake back home, but paddling out to catch a wave was exhausting. 
After fifteen or so attempts, Quinn decided to take a break and flopped onto the beach blanket next to Jack, who was reading a crime thriller Quinn had recommended to him. 
“Wha’d’ya think?” 
“It’s good so far. This Audrey woman is nuts.” 
Quinn laughed, remembering, “yeah, she gets worse.”
Jack didn’t think that could be possible, but it was fiction for a reason. 
When he finished the chapter, Jack shut the book and set it back in the big basket his mom had brought. She and their dad were on a walk. If he’d been following their progress correctly, they were the two little specks in front of the sandy cliff around the north side of the bay.
“I can’t believe you’re getting ready to propose to someone,” Jack said when he and Quinn had been sitting in silence for a while. 
“I don’t know that I’m getting ready, really.” 
“Whatever. Semantics,” Jack defended, waving away his rebuttal. 
Quinn laughed. “Can you call it semantics when it’s about a life altering question?” 
“I just mean like, you know, you know? I’ve never felt that way.” Truthfully, Jack always thought he would be the first one to get married. He was more outgoing than his brothers, and he’d had more girlfriends. Although he supposed this was probably one of those things where quality held more weight than quantity. At the rate things were going, he was likely to be the last. 
“Yeah,” Quinn agreed, leaning back on his elbows. He hadn’t expected to feel like this either. Comparing this summer to the one before was like comparing apples to oranges. Sure, they were both summers, but he felt so off kilter last year, and this year, other than wishing he and Sarah weren’t living apart, he felt settled. 
“It just seems right, you know?” he said with a shrug.
“I’m excited to spend more time with her,” Jack said. 
Quinn glanced at him, “when are you spending more time with my girlfriend?”
Oh, Fuck. Jack’s heart jumped into his throat, and he coughed, trying to clear it. “Just that…” he couldn’t believe he’d just said that. He was excited to spend time with Sarah, see how she was around just their family, but he hadn’t meant to say it out loud. They were only two days away from the surprise, and he was blowing it. He consciously stopped himself from slapping his hand to his forehead. A reaction like that would undoubtedly give him away. “I mean, she’s coming to Mich, right?” 
“Yeah,” Quinn said, sighing as he lay on his back. He’d put his t-shirt back on, but the sun still licked through the fabric, making him feel warm and sleepy. “Next month.” 
Glancing over, Jack was relieved to see Quinn relaxed. Either he was an excellent actor — doubtful — or he’d managed to redirect him enough to not be suspicious. It was time to change the subject.  
“You need to throw those glasses in the ocean, man,” Jack said, reaching over to pull the gold frames from his face. Jack knew he liked them, but everyone else agreed they were awful. He thought they made Quinn look like a finance bro. 
Quinn smacked his hand away. “I like them. Sarah likes them.”
“She does?” Maybe he needed to rethink his opinions of her. She apparently had worse taste than he thought. “Has she seen them?” 
Glaring, Quinn pushed himself up onto his elbows so he could get a better look at Jack, who was sitting with one of his legs bent, an arm loosely slung around it. 
“Yes. She’s —” he broke off. “I think she’s seen them.” 
Jack scoffed, “I don’t think she has. They’d give her the ick.” 
“Fuck off. I do not give Sarah the ick, I can promise you that.” 
“You don’t, but those glasses will. Just throw them in and get it over with.” 
“First of all, that’s bad for the environment. Secondly, I like them, and third, they were expensive.” 
Jack threw his hands in the air in defeat. “One day,” he said, pointing at Quinn, “One day I will make you see reason.” 
“Yeah, sure,” Quinn snorted. 
“Are we talking about Quinn’s fuck-ass glasses?” Luke asked, walking up to the blanket and dripping water over everything.  
“See?” Jack demanded, pointing at their youngest brother as Luke reached for a towel. 
By the end of the day, Quinn’s cheeks and stomach hurt from laughing so hard. He had to admit, it was really nice to get this time with his family away from training and the grind of daily life, even if Sarah was still in Vancouver. Now, more than ever, he understood why Jack wanted this vacation to be just them. 
Everything would figure itself out. They’d decide who got their grandmas ring, and Sarah would come to Michigan, and then move in when he got back to Van. And the next time a family vacation came around, Quinn knew Sarah wouldn’t get left behind. 
Want more Quinn & Sarah? Check out the Snapshots Masterlist
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morganbritton132 · 1 day ago
Text
Things that definitely happened in the time between getting hired together and Dustin coming back from camp:
1. Everything about Steve Harrington is annoying to Robin but the fact that he matches his socks and shoes to his uniform ticks her off so much. On the occasion that they have to wear promotional pins, he’ll match those too. It drives her nuts. She brings it up that he’s always meticulously matching and he says genuinely, “I thought you were colorblind.”
“Why would you think that?”
“You kinda dress like a clown.”
2. Now that Robin thinks about it, Steve always tells her what color sprinkles he’s handing her. Now she’s annoyed about that too. Ugh.
3. They are allowed one free ice cream a shift. Steve always, without fail, gets a scoop of USS Butterscotch and drowns it in sprinkles. The sprinkles go everywhere. Every. Time. She is finding them crushed into the treads of her shoes, in her hair. She’s finding sprinkles in her house. She tells him to be careful. He’s not.
She takes drastic (immature) measures aka licking her hand and sticking it the sprinkles, and saying, “Now, you can eat sprinkles and my spit.”
Steve did not take his scoop that day. They did not replace the sprinkles.
4. One time, they damaged the side of a brand new tub of ice cream putting initially in the walk in. They’re supposed to write an incident report and depose of the merchandise. Steve convinced her to fill out the form and then divide up the ice cream between the two of them. She scootered home with six pounds of Superman ice cream in a plastic bag. It was almost entirely melted by the time she got them. The crime made her feel buzzy and she smiled the whole night.
She wants to be annoyed by this but doesn’t know how.
5. Once Robin decided that Steve wasn’t the (complete) bane of her existence, she can kinda start to see why Tammy Thompson would have a crush on someone like Steve (objectively). Then Steve makes the same pun to a customer for the third time and she thinks about drowning him in caramel.
6. Steve says that he thinks he’d enjoy drowning in caramel. It’s one of his favorite toppings.
7. Every time Robin comes back from her break, she has a new bruise. Steve is significantly more concerned about this than she is (she’s clumsy and bruises easily).
8. Steve has a surprising amount of opinions regarding how they cleaned the store. Robin is apparently not cleaning the tables correctly. Steve tells her that you have to Zamboni the table first. She does not know what that means.
9. Their manager comes in for one hour every week. This guy inexplicably loves Steve. Neither of them get why and make fun of him when he leaves.
10. Steve talks a lot about how he misses ‘the little guy’ and Robin thinks that his dog was away at like, obedience school. He’s talking about Dustin.
I need someone who is funnier than me to write a fic about the time between when Steve and Robin start working together and Dustin coming back from summer camp because I know that Steve annoyed the fuck out of her.
Like I just know Robin rolls into work every morning hot and sweaty from having to scooter there, locked and loaded with mean sarcastic comments, and there’s Steve. With his dumb hair and his socks matching his uniform complaining that he had to open alone (they have no customers. He has not counted the register).
Steve doesn’t get her sarcasm yet so sometimes she’ll say something and can see that it hurt his feelings. He’ll stalk off to pout and she’ll think about apologizing, but then she’ll hear him think aloud, “I wonder if I can juggle?”
Followed the sound of broken glass.
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sukioyakio · 2 days ago
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Part two to the Drabble
CoolbfSukuna x losergfreader
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He won’t ever admit it but after dating you but he now cant stand the quiet.You really did something to him.Your words,your sounds;your voice was like his podcast.
And so when he came home to a ln eerie quiet place.He opened the door; taking off his shoes and placed them near the door entrance.And usually he would see you in the couch or walking right up to him.Or in the bedroom playing one of your greeky games.But no it was just silence.
��hello. . .”
A furrow creased his brow of confusion.
Then he called out your name, "Hello", he waited, a second passed by, nothing, a minute passed by, and still, no sound. He walked the hallway, looking for you, "Hello?!" He called out again. Maybe your in a deep sleep right now.As he opened the bedroom in hope of seeing you there but he was face with a clean neatly room.Making him stern face completely flashed with Confusion.As he looked around every corner thinking your trying to scare him.Which in case you were scaring him with possibility of something happening to you.
But after 20 minutes running and checking each room.One he found you had left your phone and two he hates these emotions he was feeling.
He approached your phone, wondering what you had been up to, but as he looked through it, all of your chats seemed normal. No unusual messages, no secret contacts. In fact, everything seemed normal.
He glanced at your photos and see’s many pictures of him and you and then your social media profiles, anything that could give him a hint of your whereabouts, but there were no clues. Frustrated, he threw the phone on the bed and ran a hand through his hair.
‘I need to relax before i go do something stupid’ he thinks as he walks through his bedroom and onto the bathroom. He needed a shower to stay calm. As he undress his clothes and steps in the lukewarm shower.
Meanwhile you were actually at the mall with sukuna younger brother ( not little anymore his 18) yuji. In the afternoon,You two were having a blast.Strolling through each store that had something anime related. But as you were buying stuff for you but also for sukuna. But already knowing the stuff you bought were stuff he wasn’t going to wear anywhere else.
At least you bought him some accessories that you two wear.
So you went into your purse to grab your phone to see what time it was and always the stuff sukuna was waiting for to release but you search and you found nothing. . .
The realization that your phone was missing hit you like a freight train, the anxiety that washed over you was almost overwhelming.
Yuji's concern voice, however, did little to calm your panic. The thought of losing all those precious pictures and memories was almost too much to bear.
"How did it happen? Have you looked in your bag again? Maybe it just slipped out somewhere," Yuji suggested, trying to stay calm.
Your mind raced with questions, 'What if it got stolen? What about your contact list? What about your pictures?'. You couldn't help but feel vulnerable without your phone.
"Yeah, I checked my bag, and it's not there," you managed to reply, your voice trembling slightly. The anxiety was palpable.
“okay come on,get go check out in the stores,we went!” Yuji respond gently placing back your glasses to your nose roots. And giving you a trustful smile.That helps ease the anxiety.
“o-okay” you replied with a weak smile. As you and yuji retraced your steps throughout the mall.Yuji asking to every employee in the stores for your phone. After a literal two hours of goong everywhere. Your face filled with overwhelming anxious.As you gave up on it. “It o-okay, let just go back home.I promise ill buy you a phone” Yuji announces; pity filled his eyes. As you forces back those tears. As tell yourself that the real thing is better.
‘Who cares about a device when-‘ You think with a proud smile that. ‘Omg i had everything There!!!’ You mentally screamed,Your smile turn into a frown- a sad frown. Yuji pat your shoulders through the uber drive back home.
A heavy silence fell over the car as you drove back home. Yuji fidgeted with the hem of his shirt, his concern for you palpable in the air.
"Don't worry too much about the phone," he finally said, his voice breaking the silence. "We'll figure it out."
As the car approached the house, he glanced over at you, his eyes taking in your sullen expression. "Hey, we're almost there," he said gently.
When you both arrive at your apartment;Yuji is helping you with getting your bags upstairs.Making sure you got there safely.While making you laugh at his stupidity jokes. The air around you was now calm down. You reach your destination , with a relaxed smile.
looking at yuji with a smile. “You could come over,after all i made you go out with to a mall” you chuckled awkwardly. As you see him chuckled back shaking his head. “No it alright! Trust me i pretty much enjoyed my time with you.Your ten time better than sukuna” he says with a playful voice. Making your lips appear a soft smile.And cheeks warm up at the compliment.
As yuji says his final goodbyes and walks away.You stare at his pink disappearing from your view before turning your attention towards the door. you reach out the keys in your purse to open the door and automatically announce your presence in the cold house.
“Im home-“You take the bags into the house and closing the door behind,your head turning around to be reminded of your tall tattooed boyfriend.As his red orbs creates holes in your frame.His greek like jaw clenched with veins visibly showing. His arms crossed straining his muscles against his shirt. And he’s face was something that makes you stop in your tracks. But right now it wasn’t his casual expression more like a angry cat being mad at it owner. And that owner is you,and you dont know why the cat mad.
“hey. . Babe!” You said with a awkward smile,pushing up your glasses up. Your docky eyes staring up at him before retreating to staring his eyes.Scratching your neck.Flustered with how intense his glaze was on your frame. “where were you?” his deep and low voice echoes through the rooms,like a king with authority. You stand still like a kid in trouble but you weren’t. He walks up close to you.His frame creating a shadow surrounding you. Red orbs glowing in his shadows. And he repeated himself.
“Where. were. You?” His voice eerie calm,as a low hmm could be heard from his chest.Yet there was an edge towards his voice.
Taken a back a bit;blinking at him before speaking.“I went out with yuji and we went to the mall i told this to you.Last night but i guess you were too sleepy to hear me.And i think while shopping i forgot my phone-no i loss my phone”. You explain quickly.Pushing up your glasses.
”And I completely forgot to tell you today.Sorry baby!I should’ve used Yuji phone- You rapidly rumble on, without stop.As you constantly push back up your glasses. Sukuna stops you from rumbling on by interrupting you. ”Yea you should’ve” Voice lanced with annoyance.
“I-i” you stamped on your words,trying to reason with him.
“I came here home,to a silent home and when i saw your phone.”He eyes narrowed slightly.His hand run through his pink salamander hair in frustration. “No text,no calls,no annoying voice nagging me,nothing”
Your heart brokes out in peices as you hear him speak his pain.Your eyes widen in guilt. Mind screaming for your own actions. “S-sorry, i-i clearly” you exhaled a breath before. “Please forgive me baby kuna” your eyes plead. his blood crimisons eyes glance at you and scoffed.He didnt answered right away and instead look away.Jaw clenched.As one of his ironic frowns appears on his face.
You got this man worry for nothing. . .he wont admit it, but his mind and body felt like a lot more relaxed. Seeing your docky eyes staring at him and your presence makes his quiet life more interesting.
“Next time,if your loser ass forget the phone again,just dont”he mutters as his glaze on you moves to the kitchen.A Bit of blush spread on upon his frowned face. A smile tugged on your lips as you nodded.”Mhm” you cheerfully said.You walked up to him as you embrace his large frame.Wrapping your small frame around him.Instinctively noticing his body going stiff.As you bury yourself in his chest.
“Got you something. . .” You mumbled in his chest.As His lips parted to say something but scoffed out loud.Awkwardly patting your back.Which you never minded.His eyes soften up. He mumbled back.
“Do i even want to know how they look?” He asked his voice more softer than before. You chuckled at his response shaking your head.Removing your head from his chest to look up at him with greeky smile. “Probably not”.
He rolls his eyes.As the hand he was patting your back came to the top of your head and ruffled your hair. Muttering with a smirk on his lips. “Of course,punk”
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Sukuna does not do karaoke. In matter of fact he hates them. The horrifying voices he had to endure.
But god knew you lived with it. In fact, he doesn’t even know why you brought Yuji along.
And now he’s in a karaoke booth;agasinst his right basically. Sitting down in the small couch in the karaoke booth.His legs speard out,hands spayed onto the couch surfaces.Annoyance spreads across his face.As the LED lights hit him with it their colorful glow.
This was not how he wanted to spend his day off at all.
Meanwhile, you and Yuji were practically vibrating with excitement, scrolling through the song selection. It was honestly disgusting how much energy the two of you had. If he had to compare you to animals, you’d both be golden retrievers,overly friendly, overly excitable, and cringey.
‘Loser’ He mutter underneath his lips.His eyes stayed on your frame.
“A-alright Yet get this started” You Announce with a slight stutter.Pointing at sukuna with a smile.“YURR!LET GET IT”Yuji Joined along. As you grab the mic and pass one to yuji. Checking it easliy. As the beats started to take place.The Tv screen showing the song they chosen.
Ocean saga,epic the muiscal by Jorge Rivera.
“ THESE WAVES AND TIDES HAVE Grown in strength and size!!” Your voice singing every words but in his head not the melody.Walking around with over-the top hand gestures.
“IS IT NATURE OR DIVINE OR A BLESSING IN DISGUISE?! OUR HOME’s in sight, This storm’s Our final FIGHT THERE’s no time to die,comrades!!”
Yuji interrupted. “But Sir!” yuji clenching his fist.You turn with your hand up in air. Head down. “EMBRACE FOR A STORMS”Your lips in a full grin as you point a finger out sukuna. As you and yuji doing rolling gestures.
“This has be the worst thing ive ever had the misfortune of listening to” Sukuna sighs rubbing his temples off.As your both performances continued.
“Captain, we will capsize with thesе waves, our fleet will fail” Yuji voice rages out as you approach with your mic close to your mouth to Sukuna. Giving him an small wave and quirky smile. “Have them follow my ship, I'll ensure that we prevail,STORM ,STORM!!”
God please bless him with the patience of listening to you sing-actually to both of you.BOTH of y’all voices weren’t never meant to be in Broadway.
"Idiots" he muttered under his breath "Absolute idiots... singing like that."
And then you have the audacity to ask him to sing play with you and Yuji for one song. “PLEASE!!” You begged
“PLEASEE UNC!!” Another plead from his annoying brother.
“No” he stated flaty; Arm crossed like a wall of Stubbornness. Before continuing. “Andfor the last time—IM Not A UNC!” He roared.
Yuji pouted like a kicked puppy.
You, however, were determined. With a sudden thud, you dropped to your knees, hands clasped together in an act of pure, shameless desperation.
“P-please, babe!! I-i’ll let you do all the chores in the house!!” you stammered, voice trembling with exaggerated sincerity.
Yuji, who had also dropped to his knees beside you, immediately turned to stare at you in abject horror. “What the hell?! You just offered yourself up to a literal CYCLOPS!”
Sukuna hearing-no watching this absurd exchange with mild amusement. Boy was he humor by this. Clicking his tounge against the wall of his mouth. Shaking his head. “What on earth are you two losers talking about ”
Yuji answered first ;his puppy eyes staring into his red orbs.“WE JUST NEED SOMEONE TO PLAY THE ROLE OF POSEIDON PLEASE”His voice full with dramatic urgency.
“PLEASE YOUR LIKE PERFECT FOR HIM!” You followed behind.
Sukuna Stared at yall with unimpressed eyes. Oh,hell no he wasn't going to get dragged by yall.
Right. . .
Nope-You got him singing as Poseidon in the end.At least he gonna gain some reward from you doing a chores. But he know deep down; you weren’t gonna do shit.But hey seeing that smile glowing because of him is worth it.
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Hope you like this as well. Hope yall have a wonderful day.Please forgive the grammar errors.
Mutual taglist: @ciggrx @ukininayu @scoobysnakz @lynxslokley @mononijikayu
Your welcome to always comment or reblog as well. I always appreciate your feedback.
Made by @sukioyakio 2025
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revelboo · 2 days ago
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The question has to be asked. For every human they suddenly find on the lost light. Does brainstorm get smacked for it? I think it'd be funny if a count was kept like that
(Juat smth stupid that I'm giggling over while goofy on sleep meds)
He really should be smacked for every “surprise, here’s a human”
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My Way Pt 3
Brainstorm x Reader
• “See? I’m already better at this than half the crew,” he calls out to Perceptor as you just stare at him with wide eyes. Maybe you’re defective and can’t vocalize? “You know, these things are kind of cute in an ugly way.” Can feel the frantic beat of your heart against his servos and honestly, he doesn’t get the obsession. Why fuss over and dote on these weird, little organics? Oh. You’re making a noise now. Kind of a high pitched wheezing.
• Frozen as the giant monster talks about you to the other monster like you’re not even there, he glances at the other one and as soon as those yellow optics aren’t staring a hole in you, the terror paralyzing you shatters. Screaming like you’re being bloodily dismembered and he almost drops you, jarring you into biting your tongue as your heart feels like it stops for a moment. “Your skills are astonishing. I’m sure even you can keep one little human alive,” the other mutters before disappearing.
• “Just had to scream, didn’t you? Look, you appear to be an adult. Probably. So I’ll make sure you have access to food and water and you don’t embarrass me,” he growls, watching you wince and touch your mouth. “That was embarrassing me, by the way.” And you’ve still got a hand over your mouth. Did you hurt yourself? How? Those tiny teeth look blunt. Venting, he carries you back to his habsuite and pulls a slightly used cleaning cloth from his subspace, putting you down and dropping it on top of you. Watching you struggle free before your wide eyes dart around and land on the vent. Can he be held accountable if you get in there? Probably. “I wouldn’t. Unless puréed by a fan is how you want to go out.”
• Shivering as the giant walks past you and sits at a desk, apparently wholly unconcerned about you crawling into the vent to purée yourself anyway despite his warning. And it occurs to you that you really don’t want to be on the floor considering how big he is. Especially his peds. Feeling like a toddler, you edge closer to him, head tipped back to study him. If he meant to hurt you, he would have by now, right? You’re pretty sure he’d only almost dropped you because you’d screamed in his face. If there’s more giant monsters, you need to at least buddy up to one of them for safety. Right? “Can I not be on the floor? Please?”
• So you can talk. Leaning to look down at you, he reaches out a hand and you shy away. “You want up here?” Looking miserable, you come closer and climb into his hand and it’s so disconcerting how tiny and breakable you are. Making him feel almost bad about the one Whirl has. How has it survived this long? “There,” he murmurs, lifting you to his desk and tipping his hand to get you to slide out of his palm, because you’re unsettlingly soft and warm. “If you eliminate on my desk, I’ll put you in the vent myself,” he adds as you just stare up at him. Ugly cute. “I’m Brainstorm by the way. Just sit there and don’t touch anything while I work.” Pulling up a schematic he’d been working on, because designing weapons calms him and right now his processor is a mess. No getting back to recharge until he works off the nervous energy. Didn’t want or need a human. What good are you anyway except to get in the way? Servos stilling when you wander closer, staring up at him, little expression serious. “What? Blinded by how handsome I am?” And still frowning up at him, you wrinkle your nose and shake your head. Okay, that’s just hurtful.
Previous
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I apologize in advance if anything else I post today is badly in need of editing. In my defense, the grocery store had my wine in stock for once
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stxrsniolo · 13 hours ago
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ㅤִㅤㅤ ݁ ꉂ a little light in the darkness ᴖ ֽ ㅤᷭ
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ㅤ﹙ 𝟑𝟑𝟑 ﹚ㅤּㅤㅤ˻ㅤaegan is typingㅤ˺⠀⠀gather round, for what you're about to read is as soft as a feather's touch: it's fluff, my lovelies, where hearts swell and smiles are sure to bloom. enjoy the warmth.
notes: i knew some of my babies here were having a rough few days and the stress, sadness, anxiety and frustration can feel overwhelming, so i made this for y'all. remember that i love you all so much.
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the bond between y/n and the triplets was something special, a friendship that had woven itself deeply into the fabric of their lives, already feeling like more than friends; they were family by choice, each bringing something unique to the group. but lately, y/n had been a bit like a dimming lightbulb, her usual glow replaced by a shadow of sadness.
she'd been more about her thoughts than her usual chatter, her days spent writing, often being too hard on herself, and the triplets couldn't help but notice the quiet where her laughter used to echo, and they knew it was time for a rescue mission. back at their place, the air was thick with concern. "i miss y/n's giggle," chris pouted, his usual grin dimmed. "she's definitely in her feels," nick said, his voice soft, his eyes showing his worry. matt, always the empathetic one, suggested, "how about we go cheer her up? make today all about her?"
the idea was met with enthusiastic nods; they decided to hit the shops first, aiming to collect all the things that could possibly sprinkle some joy back into y/n's life. in the car, the energy was like a mini-party. "last time we did this, we ended up with more toys for ourselves than for y/n," chris laughed, navigating through traffic. "yeah, but this time, operation cheer-up is serious," nick declared, tapping away at his phone for ideas. "we're getting her the good stuff."
from the back, matt added, "don't forget those gummy bears, they're her happy button." at the store, they split up like a well-oiled machine: chris, the snack master, dove into the aisles with enthusiasm. "look at these! they've got mango and chili gummies!" he announced, his eyes wide with excitement. nick, the artist of the group, found the perfect set of pens and a sketchbook. "this'll give her something new to pour her heart into," he mused, adding them to their haul. he then grabbed a tiny rainbow flag pin. "for a little extra color and love." matt, the thoughtful one, picked out a small cat plushie, knowing it would wrap y/n in comfort. "this might just make her day," he said with a small smile. the drive to y/n's was like a rolling comedy show, with chris dj-ing, filling the car with feel-good tunes that had them all singing at the top of their lungs. "y/n's gonna flip for this," chris said, bopping to the beat. "but we gotta be sensitive," nick reminded, his voice a balance to their fun. "she might need some quiet time." matt nodded. "we'll go with the flow; if she needs calm, we'll be calm."
when they arrived, y/n answered the door looking like she hadn't laughed in days, but her eyes lit up like christmas lights at the sight of her friends and their bags of cheer. "what's all this?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper but filled with gratitude. "operation cheer up y/n, at your service!" chris declared, dumping snacks on her table like he was revealing treasure. nick handed her the sketchbook with a flourish. "for all your creative vibes," he said, his eyes sparkling with affection. matt, with his gentle touch, took her hand. "we missed you, y/n, so we're here to remind you that you're not alone." they made her living room into a little party zone, with snacks, laughter, and stories. chris did his best impersonation of a dance move he'd seen online, making y/n laugh so hard she snorted. nick shared tales from his adventures at pride events, his stories like little sparks of joy. and matt, just being there, his presence like a warm hug as he played with her hair softly. as the night went on, they shared more than just laughs; they shared hearts.
y/n opened up, and they listened, each brother offering his unique brand of comfort - nick with his supportive stance, chris with his boundless optimism, and matt with his comforting ability of understanding people. "i'm sorry for being a bit of a ghost lately," she said, her voice catching. "no sorries needed, y/n. we're here because we love ya," matt reassured her, his words like a balm.
🐦‍⬛ ㅤּㅤㅤ˻ㅤ whisper ㅤ˺ᅟ⠀ i appreciate the love shown through reposts, but let me be clear: my tales are not to be copied or adapted without a whisper to me first. my words are my treasure, and i guard them jealously.
my murder of crows: @courta13 @chrislilcumslvt @marrykisskilled @chrislova @sturnshood @inspiredangel @strnilolover @emely9274 @sturns-mermaid @blushsturns
in case that you desire to be tagged in future works, here's the taglist...
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maretinelli · 23 hours ago
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FAVORITE AUNT
Oscar Piastri X fem!reader
Summary: When Y/n needs to buy a birthday present for her niece, she doesn't know how to do it because she's never been that good with children. But Oscar sees at dinner how much the children love her.
Words: 2.8K+
Warnings: Cute, funny, Oscar being very affectionate (oh how cute😭) And I think that's it
Author: English is not my first language, so apologies for any spelling, grammar and slang mistakes that may be in the story. You can request stories on my profile. ❤️🇧🇷
MASTERLIST
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The Australian sun seemed warmer that afternoon, painting the sky with golden hues as the sea breeze tried to alleviate the heat. The air carried a faint smell of salt mixed with the sweet aroma coming from the coffee shops scattered along Melbourne's busy streets.
Y/n and Oscar walked hand in hand through the shopping center, passing illuminated storefronts and listening to the lively buzz of people enjoying the end of the holiday season.
Oscar, who was on vacation after the end of the championship, liked the light energy that the city transmitted. He was used to the fast pace of the races, but there, next to Y/n, everything seemed to slow down in a good way.
They had already passed by several stores—bookstores, children's clothing stores, and even an educational toy section—but Y/n still didn't seem satisfied with any of the options. Oscar, on the other hand, was already starting to find her indecision amusing.
"I think we've already walked halfway across the city," he commented, squeezing her hand lightly. "What exactly do you want to give as a gift?"
Y/n sighed, stopping in front of a large, colorful toy store. "I have no idea" She admitted, biting her lower lip.
Oscar arched an eyebrow, gently pulling her into the store. The atmosphere was vibrant, filled with children running between aisles filled with stuffed animals, dolls, cars, and board games.
"What do you mean?" He asked, watching Y/n look at the toys with a confused expression.
"I've never been very good with children," Y/n confessed, crossing her arms. "I don't know, I don't have that natural instinct to know what they like."
Oscar laughed, picking up a dinosaur doll that roared as he squeezed his belly. "Are you serious? You seem to be great with everyone." He asked a little in disbelief.
Y/n smiled, picking up a teddy bear and examining it uncertainly. "The kids don't really seem to like me," she confessed, pouting a little.
Oscar frowned, still a little skeptical. "You sound like you have a curse that keeps children away."
"Looks like I do," Y/n rolled her eyes. "One day, I was at the salon getting my nails done with Mackenzie, and the manicurist's daughter came in all excited, smiling at her and saying, "Cinderella Moana!"
Oscar frowned. "Cinderella Moana?"
"Yes! She was wearing a Cinderella costume over a Moana one, it looked like a Disney crossover." Y/n laughed lightly. "And I tried to be nice, didn't I? I asked smiling what that meant..."
"And what did she say?"
Y/n huffed and threw her hands up. She turned to me with the most sullen face in the world and said, "I'm not talking to you, I'm talking to my mother."
Oscar held back his laughter, not wanting to disappoint his girlfriend with a laugh, and then handed her another toy to examine.
"Okay, that was a good one."
"And there's more!" Y/n continued, picking up a stuffed toy without much enthusiasm. "Once, my neighbor asked me to take care of her son for half an hour because she needed to take care of something quickly. I accepted, I thought it would be easy." Oscar was already looking at her expectantly. "But the boy cried non-stop because he said I looked at him the wrong way."
Oscar almost choked, allowing himself to laugh now. "What do you mean?!"
"I wanted to know too! I asked him what he meant by that, and he just cried harder and screamed 'I don't like this!'" She puts on a high-pitched voice.
Oscar was still laughing when Y/n sighed and began walking slowly towards a hallway full of teddy bears. He could tell her frustration was genuine and, without thinking much, he placed a light hand on her back, offering comfort.
"But Mary really likes you," he said softly. "And not just her, but the others too. Whenever I go to family gatherings with you, you can see how much they love having you around."
Y/n sighed, putting one hand in the back pocket of her jeans. Her eyes wandered over the shelf full of colorful teddy bears. "They probably just like me because I'm family," she muttered. "Because I'm their mother's sister."
Oscar smiled slightly and turned his body a little to face her better. "That's not true," he said, picking up a small stuffed rabbit and placing it in her hand. "Mary would love anything you gave her. If you gave her a rock, she would scream with joy and say it was the coolest gift in the world."
Y/n couldn't help but smile shyly, looking up and running her hand through Oscar's hair briefly, in an affectionate gesture.
In fact, her nephews really enjoyed spending time with her. They liked to play games, ask random questions, ask for help with schoolwork, and even tell secrets that not even his parents knew. But still, an insecurity insisted on staying there, hammering in his mind.
"But sometimes I think..." She hesitated, biting her lower lip. "What if one day I become a mother and my children hate having me as a mother?"
Oscar paused. The lightness in his eyes faded a little, and he pressed his lips together, feeling his chest heave. "Y/n..."
"I mean it," she sighed. "What if I'm not good with kids? What if they think I'm boring, or weird, or... I don't know, what if I'm just not good enough?"
Oscar turned to her completely and gently cupped her face, forcing her to look at him. "You have no idea how lucky our children will be to have you as a mother," he said, his voice firm but sweet. "And honestly, I bet they'll love you more than they love me."
Y/n smiled weakly, feeling a cozy warmth spread through her chest. She wrapped Oscar in a brief hug, resting her face on his shoulder.
"Thank you for always being here."
Oscar smiled, placing a soft kiss on her cheek. "Always," he replied, before pulling away slightly and clapping his hands once. "Now, let's find a really cool gift for Mary."
Y/n laughed, finally feeling that maybe this whole kid thing wasn't that hard after all. After all, with Oscar by her side, everything seemed a little easier.
••••••••••••••••••••
The warm Australian night air brought a comfortable breeze, making it the perfect weather for an outdoor party. The sky was clear, dotted with stars, and the streets were quiet, lit by yellow streetlights.
Oscar parked the car in front of Meredith's house—Y/n's older sister and mother of her nephews. He turned off the engine before turning to Y/n, who was holding tightly the wrapped gifts in her arm, almost as if her life depended on it.
He raised an eyebrow, a playful smile playing on his lips. "You're more nervous about delivering this gift than you were when we first went out together years ago."
Y/n let out a sigh, adjusting the package in her arm. "Because I am! What if she doesn't like it? What if..."
Oscar chuckled, leaning down to kiss her cheek softly. "She's going to love it, love." He said sweetly, getting out of the car and opening the door for his girlfriend to get out as well.
With a suspicious look, Y/n took a deep breath and walked to the door, knocking a few times. A few seconds later, Meredith appeared, opening the door with a warm smile.
"Y/n! I'm glad you came!" She hugged her sister briefly before looking at Oscar. "And Oscar! It's been a while. It's good to see you again."
Oscar smiled, greeting her with a wave. "Time flies, doesn't it? But I'm glad to be here."
Meredith made room for the two to enter, and Oscar took the opportunity to place a comforting hand on his girlfriend's shoulder.
"Breathe, everything will be okay."
Meredith, not noticing the brief moment between them, turned back into the house and called out excitedly, "Mary! Aunt Y/n and Uncle Oscar are here!"
Oscar couldn't help but smile a little when he heard that, Uncle Oscar. He has sisters, but he didn't have any nephews yet. It was sweet that Y/n's family made a point of including him like that.
They followed Meredith into the backyard, which was beautifully decorated with balloons, confetti, and red and silver ornaments.
It was then that Mary spotted Y/n. Her eyes lit up and, without hesitation, she dropped what she was doing and ran towards her.
"AUNT Y/N!!!"
Y/n bent down just in time to receive the little girl in her arms, laughing as she spun her around slightly in the air before hugging her tightly.
Oscar, taking advantage of the scene, began to greet Y/n's parents, Meredith's husband and her other sisters, but his eyes always returned to his girlfriend and niece, a slight smile on his face.
Mary pulled away from the hug a little, her eyes shining with excitement. "I missed you!"
"Me too, sweetie!" Y/n smiled, holding out the gift to her niece. "Here's your present, little one. I hope you like it... Uncle Oscar helped me choose."
Mary grabbed the package with excitement and quickly tore the paper open. When she saw what was inside—a huge unicorn plush toy, a painting kit, and a Barbie doll—her eyes widened with pure happiness.
At the store, Y/n had been at a loss as to which gift to choose. Afraid of making a mistake, she ended up picking all three, which made Oscar laugh at the time and say that she was exaggerating. But now, seeing Mary's reaction, he knew that she had made the right choice.
"I LOVED IT!!!" Mary squealed, jumping into her aunt's arms again, hugging her tightly. "Thank you, Aunt Y/n!"
Y/n laughed, caressing the little girl's back. "I'm glad you liked it, princess."
Mary pulled back a little, looking at Yin with a pure smile. "Anything you give me will be nice. Because I love you."
Y/n felt some tears wanting to come out, but then she smiled and hugged her five-year-old niece once more. "Oh love, I love you too!"
Oscar, who was very close, leaned over and whispered in his girlfriend's ear: "Did I tell you? If you gave her a rock, she would be happy too."
Y/n laughed, rolling her eyes before finally approaching her parents and other family members to greet them with hugs and smiles.
Oscar stood beside her, placing a hand on his girlfriend's waist while her father and brothers-in-law brought up the subject of racing, asking about the season. Meanwhile, Y/n's mother and sisters talked about random subjects, laughing among themselves.
Suddenly, an excited scream echoed through the yard, coming from inside. "AUNT Y/N!!!"
Before Y/n could turn around, three little 7-year-old hurricanes—the triplets, her nephews too—ran up to her and wrapped her in a tight hug, almost knocking her backwards.
She laughed out loud, trying to balance herself, but it was Oscar who, in a quick gesture, held her back so she wouldn't fall. Making everyone laugh.
"Okay, okay, boys, I missed you too!" Yin said between laughs, kissing each of their heads.
The triplets had moved away a little, but now their focus was on Oscar, who was watching them with amusement. With the seriousness of growing boys, they each reached out to shake his hand firmly.
Oscar bit back a smile and returned the handshakes as if they were closing a big deal. "Hey, boys? How's it going?"
"Well, Uncle Oscar!" they replied together.
Y/n looked at her boyfriend and smiled. He was already part of that family, and every day that became clearer.
After the lively greetings with the triplets, Y/n's father, who was chatting happily with his family, suddenly remembered a funny moment from his daughter's childhood and, with a nostalgic smile, asked:
"Y/n, do you remember that time you tried to run away from home because I wouldn't let you eat cake before dinner?"
Y/n widened her eyes, already feeling the heat rise to her cheeks. She laughed nervously, hiding her face in her hands.
Her father turned to Oscar, eager to tell the story. "She was about six years old and decided she was going to run away. She took a little backpack, put two stuffed animals, a Barbie and... a piece of bread in it. She said she could take care of herself and that she would never come back."
Oscar laughed out loud, shaking his head in pure amusement. "Four years of dating and you still haven't told me that, Y/n?"
She laughed, embarrassed, and hid in his chest, making the family burst into laughter.
Before he could respond, Meredith and her husband appeared, calling everyone to dinner. The large table in the house was filled with excited voices, silverware clinking against plates and constant laughter.
The triplets and Mary were curious about Y/n's travels with Oscar. "Don't you get sick from flying so much, Aunt Y/n?" one of the boys asked, drawing laughter from the table before she could answer.
Oscar exchanged glances with Y/n during dinner, a discreet smile always present on his lips, as if to say that she did very well with the children.
After the congratulations and the cake being cut with Mary insisting that the first piece should go to Y/n, the night continued pleasantly. Y/n was chatting animatedly with the adults on the balcony when she felt a light tug on her dress.
She looked down and saw Mary, who was staring at her with bright eyes. "What's wrong, love?" Y/n asked, smiling.
The little girl fidgeted her fingers nervously before asking softly, "Can you and Uncle Oscar play with us? We have a cool game, but we're missing two people..."
Before Y/n could even respond, Oscar leaned over and said, laughing, "Sure, me and Aunt Y/n are going!"
He placed the glass of wine on the table and, in a natural gesture, took Y/n's hand, guiding her to the backyard, where the children were waiting anxiously.
The conversations on the porch died down when the adults noticed the couple approaching the group of children.
Y/n looked at her nephews curiously. "Okay, what's the joke?"
One of the triplets held up a plastic crown and placed it on her head. “It’s a wedding!” Mary announced excitedly.
Y/n and Oscar laughed out loud as they saw the kids putting on makeshift costumes. Mary clapped her hands to get their attention.
"Now everyone pay attention, because Aunt Y/n and Uncle Oscar are getting married!"
The game unfolded amidst laughter. The children improvised a speech, pretended to be priests and threw plastic flower petals.
Until Mary crossed her arms and looked at them seriously. "Now you need to kiss."
Y/n's eyes widened and she opened her mouth to respond, but Oscar just smiled at the corner of his mouth and, before she could think about running away from the situation, he gently held Y/n's back and waist and leaned her back, sealing their lips in a sweet and long kiss, respectful, but passionate enough to draw excited screams from the children.
The adults on the balcony whistled and clapped excitedly. When Oscar lifted her back up, Y/n buried her face against his shoulder, giggling shyly.
The night passed at a light and happy pace. Soon, Oscar and Y/n were at the front door saying goodbye to the family.
The children were the ones who took the longest to hug, holding Y/n tightly, and she ran her hand through each of their hair, promising that she would come back for them to play more often.
Oscar then held her hand as they walked to the car. He opened the door for Y/n and walked around to get into the driver's seat.
When he started the car, he gave her a long look before getting out.
Y/n frowned, laughing. "What is it?"
Oscar smiled. "Nothing... I was just thinking about how much the kids love you." He paused and joked, "I guess kids who don't like you are born with defects." Y/n laughed and pulled Oscar into a quick kiss, feeling his smile against her lips.
As they pulled away, he sighed, still smiling. "You're going to be a great mother, you know that?"
Y/n blinked, feeling her heart race. Before she could answer, Oscar continued, his voice full of affection: "I can imagine you going for walks with them, teaching them how to ride a bike, encouraging them in sports, cooking and reading stories before bed..." He chuckled softly. "And I'm there, by your side, watching it all happen."
Y/n bit her lip, feeling a warm warmth in her chest. "That sounds like a perfect plan." She smiled.
Oscar squeezed her hand gently before finally leaving with the car, guiding them back home, his heart light and full of love. Y/n knowing that now she knew that the children loved her.
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sillylilsquid · 2 days ago
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Real life Romance book pt. 3/?
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✨alternate universe Hyun Ju x reader ✨summary: in which you meet Hyun Ju at your work, and quickly become friends. you've never dated a woman, but something about Hyun Ju was different. She made you feel a fire in your chest, and though you didn't understand it you were ready to try.  ✨trigger warnings: afab reader, eventually: mentions of bullying, transphobia, sexual content, 18+ only minors DNI ✨1.8k words
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.✭・.・✫
In the morning you texted Hyun Ju, telling her that you had an opening shift at the bookstore and asked her to meet you there at 4pm. She was quick to respond telling you she won’t be a minute late. In fact, she came 30 minutes early. You sat behind the counter, counting some inventory when the bell rang. “Welcome in!” you called out, yet your eyes stayed glued to your task. You whispered to yourself as you counted and when you heard someone clear their throat you jumped. “Oh! I’m sorry, I hope you weren’t waiting too–” cutting yourself off when you saw Hyun Ju. She had a slight smirk plastered on her face as she slid a book across the counter. “I’d like to buy this.” she stated simply. She spoke so casually which made your cheeks burn, because how was she always so calm when you were such a mess? Your fingertips brushed hers when you reached to grab the book. It was the same one you’ve been reading for book club. Your face lit up, “This one’s really good, I’m only chapter six but you’re going to love it!” She replied with, “I was hoping if I bought this I could keep coming to book club with you.” you nodded quickly, knowing you looked silly but you wanted her to know she was more than welcome to continue attending.
“I know I’m here early, I just didn’t want to wait until 4…I won’t bother you, just let me know when you’ve clocked out.” Hyun Ju said, grabbing back the book and heading to the small sitting area the store had. You watched as she sat down, seemingly way too tall for the tiny chairs but it made her appear even more adorable. You tried your hardest to concentrate on your work but every so often your eyes would wander to her. She kept her promise and sat there silently reading her book to make sure she didn’t distract you from your work, but little did she know that was somehow even more distracting than her talking to you. The way she tucked her hair behind her, the way she would gently bit her lip and furrow her brows–it drove you insane. 
Once the clock hit 4pm you clocked out, grabbed your bag and headed towards Hyun Ju. She didn’t notice you there at first and you didn’t want to interrupt her reading so you just stood next to her, watching for a couple of minutes. If anyone else looked over at you two they would think you were some sort of stalker. Slowly you reached your hand out and placed it on her shoulder. She tensed, turning her head quickly and when she realized it was only you she relaxed. “Let’s go,” you spoke offering her your hand. Hyun Ju placed her hand in yours as the two of you walked out of the bookstore. “What do you have planned?” she asked, and you shrugged, not wanting to ruin the surprise. You walked her across the street to the coffee shop and ordered you each a drink, before pulling her back outside. You walked with purpose, but even your fast pace wasn’t enough to keep up with her much longer strides. “Your legs are too long! I can’t keep up.” you teased her, playfully bumping into her side. You noticed how she slowed down her pace and tried taking smaller steps for you. The simple act made you smile.
As you two arrived at the park nearby you picked a quiet spot away from the crowd of people and reached into your backpack. You pulled out a blanket laying it on the ground, motioning for her to sit. Once she was comfy you sat down next to her, closer than you ever had. Your shoulder was flush with her arm and your thighs touched. Hyun Ju looked down at you, eyes searching your face. “You look nice today.” she commented, slowly reaching up to move a stray piece of hair out of your eyes. You closed your eyes briefly at the gesture. “So do you,” you returned the compliment. After a moment of silence you laid back, staring up at the clouds. “Last night, at the restaurant you asked questions all about me, now it’s my turn. I wanna know more about you.” your eyes stayed trained on the clouds passing by and you felt her lay down next to you. Her hands rested on her stomach and she let out a soft sigh. “Okay…but you have to promise just to listen. No questions, no comments. Please.” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. A confused look came across your features and you turned your head to face her, she stayed staring at the sky, her face expressionless. You went to ask why, before realizing that’s exactly what Hyun Ju didn’t want you to do. Turning back towards the sky you said, “I promise, Hyun Ju.”
The two of you sat in silence for a few minutes and your heart pounded with anticipation to hear more about the beautiful woman’s life before you met her. She knew she needed to tell you, she had to be honest with you. When she began to speak, you froze wanting to soak in everything she had to say. “I was in the special forces, worked my way up to sergeant.” you sat there in shock at what she said, but you stayed quiet. “I was discharged, a little over a year ago,” her voice wavered and you turned back towards her. Her eyes were glassy and you wanted to comfort her but decided to wait until she was done speaking. “I’m trans, y/n.” she admitted, a single tear falling down her cheek. “My family, my friends, my job… I lost everything. And I completely understand if I lose you too–it’s a lot to handle, and I don’t expect you to deal with that.” 
You were not expecting to hear what she just admitted to you. It made sense; her tall, muscular frame, deeper voice it all made sense now. Hyun Ju turned her head to the side and finally met your eyes. “Can I speak now?” you asked, your voice holding a playful tone in hopes to break the uncomfortable feeling in the air. “Yes, please.” she laughed, nodding. You hesitated, but reached out and wiped away her tears with the cuff of your sweatshirt. “You’re not gonna lose me that easily,” you teased. “I’m so sorry you’ve had to deal with all that–I can’t even begin to imagine how you felt during that. Just know that I don’t care who you are, to me you’re just Hyun Ju. The girl from the bookstore who was embarrassed to admit she wanted to read romance books.” she let out a laugh at that, her tears starting to dry up. “It doesn’t change how I feel about you.” you admitted, your hand still cupping her face.
Hyun Ju let out a deep breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding in. The tension eased out of all her muscles and her heart swelled, for once she felt at peace. Very few people accepted her once they found out about her surgeries, and to know you did made her feel so special. Her eyes drifted down to your lips then back up to your eyes which were glued to hers. A smile spread across her face as she leaned in just enough that your noses pressed together. Then she kissed you. Just a small, simple kiss that didn’t last more than a few seconds. Your body felt a burn from the desire that had been building up the past two days. You knew your cheeks were bright red with a blush. Hyun Ju laid back, looking up at the sky again and you two just sat there; in a comfortable silence. Your hand had reached over, grabbing hers off her stomach and lacing it with yours.. The nerves you had about being attracted to a woman, wanting to kiss a woman, they all faded away. You both laid there in blissful peace.
An hour passed when Hyun Ju slowly sat up. She stretched which revealed the bottom of her stomach as her sweater raised ever so slightly. You felt yourself practically drooling. You sat up and sipped your coffee, not wanting your time with her to end. “Just wait until my friends at bookclub hear about that kiss.” you said giggling. She raised her eyebrows as if to tell you to continue. “They insisted that inviting you to bookclub was a date, I kept telling them no! But they didn’t believe me…wait until they hear about this.” Hyun Ju laughed along with you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. You hadn’t realized you were shivering from the change in temperature. The sky had long ago become gray as if it was going to storm, but you were glad it hadn’t. “We should head out before we get stuck in more rain.” Hyun ju said and you nodded. She helped you fold your blanket and tuck it back into your backpack, and on the walk to the car she kept her arm hung loosely around your waist. Her fingers brushed against your hip bone, the feeling making your stomach grow tight. Once in the car she drove you back to your apartment, the ride was over way too fast. You weren’t done with her, a new found confidence rolled over you. “Do you want to come inside?” you asked, looking up at her with innocent eyes. Hyun Ju hesitated then nodded, turning the car off. You two entered the apartment building and climbed the stairs to your second floor apartment. 
Digging in your backpack for your keys you felt how close she was standing to you. Your back was flush against her chest, making you fumble as you tried to grab the key you needed to unlock the door. “It’s really small, and kinda messy.” you admitted as you turned the lock, stuffing your keys back in your bag. Hyun Ju reached around you, turning the handle and pushing the door open. As you two stepped in, she pushed the door closed and before you could say anything she pounced. You were trapped against the wall by her larger frame as she captured your lips in hers. The kiss was more feverish, more passionate than before. Your bag made thud as it hit the floor as you brought your hands up to grasp onto her muscular arms. Her hands held your face gently compared to how she kissed you. After a moment you two broke apart to catch your breath. She took a small step back, fixed her hair and stared down at you–smirking as she saw the effect it had on you. You stayed leaning against the wall, chest heaving as you tried to calm yourself down. Before you could say anything she was on you once more, kissing you like she would never get to again.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.✭・.・✫
✨a/n: i literally cannot stop writing for hyun ju. she makes me feral oml.
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mortionsickness · 3 days ago
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morston, a post (and a hidden narrative)
im not here to start any fights or provoke or be inflammatory, so please, if you’re here to beef with me, just move on. if you’re willing to hear me out for one humble post, though, I love you <3 let’s start;
ok, so first of all can we all be real for a second?
facts: arthur morgan and john marston are not blood related.
arthur and john met at 22 and 12 years old respectively.
arthur and john as of the end of rdr2 are 26 and 36 years old.
ok? ok! let’s continue, please;
in fanon, arthur and john are always depicted as being raised as close brothers, annoyed by eachother but overall best buds. this is cute! but not necessarily canon.
what we can learn from arthur and john’s interactions, is that they had some real animosity— mainly arthur towards john. as said in arthur’s own journal he only started to like john by close to the end of the game. I could dismiss this as friendly ribbing, if it were not actually written in arthur’s Journal, where his most personal thoughts are stored. this being said, i could still dismiss it, but humor me for my humble post (I’ll elaborate more on this later).
by the start of the game, arthur resents john, for three main reasons;
number one, john left the gang for a year, disregarding the loyalty to dutch that arthur treasured so deeply
number two, john abandoned his family, the family that arthur never got to have in eliza and issac
number three, and the most important reason to this post, arthur was jealous of john. feeding into the last point, jealous of the family that john has, and jealous of dutch’s favoritism towards john.
from what we know, there is no evidence that the two were close growing up at all. in fact, i’d even say there’s evidence to the contrary;
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“I did it for Abigail, of course, in her own way, the finest woman I know, but also for Jack and I guess Marston himself. I kind of like him.
We’ve argued over the years, but I’ve grown to care a little for him. He’s less of a fool than he was,”
what we can learn from this passage is that arthur didn’t think much of john over the years, and that he’s grown to care “a little” for him. key word is grown. if the two were close growing up, like brothers, he would probably have more to say about him than that he’s grown to kind of like him a little bit.
once again, I could dismiss this as ribbing, but what reason does he have to do so in his own personal journal besides some kind of bizarre denial? he says he loves other characters straight up.
now that we’ve established that the brotherly childhood bond is, for the most part, cute fanon, I’d like to talk about the hidden narrative between these two characters, particularly through their relation to dutch.
what we learn over the course of the game, and through john and arthur’s conversations is that the two have, to some degree, competed for dutch’s attention.
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john says this during chapter 6, for example.
from my perspective, it looks like dutch, their abuser (because yes, he is their abuser and not their father, i could make a whole other post about this), has pitted arthur and john against each other, or at least perpetuated the rivalry between the two of them.
by the end of the game, john and arthur have broken out of this rivalry, and learned to care for one another. this is the narrative that I enjoy morston by.
not of two close brothers who were in love at age 12 and 22.
I view it as a story of two victims of the same abuser who happened to grow up alongside eachother, resenting eachother all the while. of the two of them learning what was done to them was wrong, and breaking the cycle together, trying to move forward together, and finally growing to care for eachother through the process. this is why morston is not “problematic” or “taboo” to me.
as for the two of them meeting at the ages they did, what I have to say is this; let’s examine why we fear these situations so much.
in real life, we are uncomfortable (rightly so!) with situations like these due to the extreme power imbalance at said ages, and maturity differences. we’re scared because the adult may take advantage of these said things, in order to groom them into being a romantic partner later in life, even if they don’t outright date them as a kid.
as someone who has been groomed, let me explain; the reason why we are dubious of these situations is because we don’t know the older party’s intentions, and we assume they will take advantage of the power dynamic. in fiction, however, I believe this is different.
arthur morgan would never groom a child. we know this to be true. we know his intentions, his motivations, his soul. why do we assume in the case of morston that he had to have groomed him?
textually, john and arthur are 26 and 36 by the time they even begin to get along, with 0 evidence that they were remotely close at a young age. the two could’ve barely talked. were scared of something in this scenario that we’re rightly scared of irl, but we know the situation, we know the stakes, and we know that this is not a situation where john would be taken advantage of, because he is a grown 26 year old man with a wife and child by the time him and arthur even interact kindly with eachother. he had been an adult for 8 entire years.
fiction can effect reality, yes, but if people just widely understood that this is not a situation where the two of them would have any chance of getting together before they’re both well into adulthood, then it wouldn’t be a problem. because this is not a dangerous situation, for john or for anyone.
john was not groomed by anyone other than dutch van der linde, and that’s a fact. both arthur and john were groomed and this is a story about getting out, together. moving on, together. loving each other in the face of opposing forces, and purposeful wedges between them. and I think that’s a story that is a net good.
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It's Not A Wet T-Shirt Contest
Pairing: Russell Shaw x f!reader, Reader POV
Prompt: “Is that supposed to be leaking?”
Requested by: @luci-in-trenchcoats
Summary:  When your boyfriend comes into town to surprise you one weekend, you thought that you’d spend it together, turns out he has other plans. Reader is a single mom and is the niece of Teddi and Velma. Reader is described as curvy. (Technically takes place in my Long As I Can See The Light Universe, but can be read as a stand-alone.)
Tropes: Established Relationship
Word Count: 2.1K
Warnings: I'm going to label this 18+ because I made it more spicy than I meant it to, References to Sex, Sexual innuendo, Little bit of self-deprecating thought (reader), Cursing, Kissing, Idiots who love each other lots. I think that's everything?
Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n if any. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!
Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.
Main Masterlist
Tracker Masterlist
A/N: Alright, y'all this is my first fic written for my prompt celebration requested by the wonderful @luci-in-trenchcoats 😊 ENJOY!
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You took another long sip of coffee from your favorite hand-painted "World's Best Mom Mug" and tried to block out the symphony of the colorful curse words and banging coming from your upstairs master bathroom.
When your boyfriend showed up this morning out of the blue to surprise you, this was not what you expected to be doing. Well, his appearance was a surprise to you, but you had a sneaking suspicion that your Aunt Teddi and her wife Velma had gotten a heads up that Russell was coming. They'd shown up about an hour before Russell had to take your son and daughter for a movie and a sleepover at their house.
But the bigger surprise was your current dilemma.
You'd expected to be tangled up with Russell in bed for hours trying to convince him to never leave you again, not be waiting downstairs while he tried to install a new shower head in your master bathroom.
You only blamed yourself.
You'd let it slip that the water pressure wasn't quite right and something that you'd thought would take a plumber twenty minutes had turned into an all day affair for Russell. 
Instead of taking you to bed, Russell had dragged you out to his car and to the nearest hardware store where he let you pick out a new shower head and where he got supplies, all the while you told him that he didn't need to, and Russell only kissed away the frown on your lips leaving you wanting more.
You always wanted more.
Russell and you had been together for five and a half months, and each time he left you found yourself wanting more. 
More of him and more time.
It was frustrating to be with a man who had a job that would pull him out of your arms as quickly as he’d appeared and leave your bed cold once more. 
It had been cold before and you didn’t want to go back to that. Didn’t want to be reminded of the cold bed over the final years of your marriage when your husband’s favorite phrases echoed through your bedroom after you put your children to bed:
“I’m tired” and “Not tonight baby, I have to work.”
Those last few years of your marriage were frustrating and did little to boost your self-esteem. Especially when your husband made you think you were annoying him and made you feel stupid for wanting more. 
With Russell there was no such thing.
When the two of you started dating and Russell realized exactly what your husband had done to you, he'd spent every waking moment making you feel more beautiful than you ever had. He listened to you, understood you, and did more for you than your husband had done in all the years that you'd been married.
But each time he left, Russell always took a little bit of yourself with him. You didn't sleep well when he was gone doing God knows what, God knows where, only that when he finally called or showed up to tell you he was okay, you didn't let go of him for hours.
There's another loud bang followed by a string of curses that make you sigh into your mug.
For fucks sake, that stupid showerhead is getting more action than I am.
You loved your boyfriend to bits, but you hated how stubborn he was sometimes.
You straighten up from where you lounged against the countertop in your kitchen, taking one more sip of coffee, before you make the trek through your living room and up the stairs towards your bedroom. 
This wasn't the first time that Russell fixed something in your home. He liked it when you made him a list of things to do when he visited, things like cleaning the gutters, nailing down the front step that always caught underfoot, mowing the lawn, etc. Things that Russell wanted to do for you because he knew how busy you got at work and with your children.
It made you love him more, because you’d never met someone so selfless before. 
When you enter the bathroom, Russell is standing in your shower, just inside the large glass double doors, soaking wet, and holding a wrench.
His usual easy smile has slipped into a frustrated frown while he stares at the bright silver shower head hanging on the wall. 
“I see things are going well.” You snort out a laugh, admiring the scene before you. 
Russell’s dark hair drips forward in lazy strands against his cheeks, his t-shirt clings to his chest like a second skin, catching in the dips and curves of your boyfriend’s muscular torso, and his usual blue jeans are stained a dark navy. The edge of his t-shirt pulls up from the top of his jeans with the stretch of his arms, giving you a view of the delicious stripe of skin just below his belly button.
For the love of french toast, the guy could win a wet t-shirt contest without batting one of those ridiculously perfect eyelashes of his.
At this point you were still trying to figure out how the hell you landed this man and why the hell he kept coming back for more of you.
“Smooth as silk.” Russell gives you a lazy smile that makes you feel like butter on a pile of buttermilk biscuits. “I just finished.”
 “Really?” 
“Mhmm.”
“Huh.” You take a step closer to admire his handiwork, so close that you can feel the warmth of his breath ghost along the side of your face, making goosebumps trail over your skin. All it does is remind you of what the two of you could be doing instead of standing inside of your walk-in shower fully clothed and the things the two of you had done in this very shower the last time he was in town.  
"Is that supposed to be leaking?" You ask, pointing to the place where the plate of the shower head fastens to the wall and where there is a trickle of water dancing down the white subway tile backsplash.
"Oh shit." Russell sighs, his shoulders drooping when he notices the stream. “I can fix that."
You note his sheepish smile. “Rus, please let me call a plumber. You’ve been up here for two hours!” 
“No way! They overcharge you and it’s what I’m here for!” He argues.
Maybe I should try a different approach.
“Rus.” You say sweetly, putting both of your hands on his stomach. Russell’s familiar green eyes flick to your hands as you begin to move them up the wet t-shirt. “When you showed up today I thought we’d be doing something a little different with our time.” 
Russell swallows. “Baby-”
“And the longer you stay in here-” You breathe taking a step forward as you continue to move your hands up, tracing the hardened muscles beneath your palms. “The less time we have together.” You gently press a kiss to the space where his shirt meets the base of his neck and you can feel the bob of his throat as he swallows again. 
“I-” He tries again, but you feel his hands come down to the curve of your hips to ground himself there. 
“Don’t you want to spend time with me?” You murmur into his skin, pressing your chest against his as your hands work up to the back of his neck. The water from his clothes soaks into yours, but you’re not cold. 
“You’re fighting dirty.” He half groans, but you don’t feel bad. Judging by the way his hands have begun to squeeze your hips and pull you tighter against him, Russell was enjoying this as much as you were. 
“But it always works.” You purr against his throat with a smirk. 
“Fuck, baby I-“ 
“Yeah?” 
Your smirk grows the more you tease him. By now you could feel your own heartbeat thudding in your chest calling out to his and despite how cold Russell’s wet clothes are, heat was dancing along your skin. 
“I really want-“ There’s a grit along Russell’s voice, as if he’s trying to hold on to some shred of self-control.
You loved that you were able to do this to him, it made you feel powerful and sexy. Two things that you hadn’t felt in a long time. 
“Hmm?” You moan softly, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck while your lips continue their path along his skin.
He groans. “I really want to do this for you, but you’re making it kinda hard-“ 
“Really?” You mutter nipping along his jaw. “That’s what I’m making hard?”
Russell pulls back from you, holding your wrists in his large hands. But he looks far from angry. His green eyes flash a darkened pine, and dance with mischief. “Baby, trust me. There is nothing more that I want to do than show you how much I missed you.” 
“Then why-" You begin to say.
“Because I know that the second I do that, we’re not going to do anything else the rest of the time I’m here. And I want to do this for you.” Russell’s eyes shift a little lighter. He releases your wrists and cups your cheek with his large hand. You can see the love you have for Russell reflected back at you in his gaze
You sigh again a little disappointed. Today really wasn’t going the way you wanted it to.  “But I missed you.” 
“I could tell.” He smirks. “Maybe your shower head would last a little longer if you didn't wear it out." Russell sends you a salacious wink that makes you blush bright red.
“Shut up!” You slap him on the shoulder, cheeks flaming. 
Russell only smirks wider at you. “You know… I’ve got a solution for that.”
“Oh do you?” You ask innocently. 
Finally, we’re getting somewhere.
Russell hesitates, his hand still stroking your cheek softly. "I could move in."
It was the last thing that you were expecting him to say.
“See I've been thinking about this for a bit." Russell  clears his throat. “I know you can’t move because of the kids but... I want to be here in your life. I hate leaving you and each time I get done with a job I always find myself driving back to you. I don't want to be anywhere else.”
Your mouth is still open in shock, eyes wide. You couldn’t find the ability to speak.
In the months that followed your divorce you’d been on a couple of dates before you met Russell, where the mere mention of your kids sent your dates scuttling into the shadows or back to whatever swamp they crawled out of, but here, standing in front of you was a man who didn’t just want you, he wanted you, and he wanted your children. 
It was a combination that you thought you’d never find, and then you’d met Russell. A man who not only loved you, he made you feel beautiful, alive, happy, and seen in a way that you hadn’t been in years. 
Not to mention that both of your children absolutely loved Russell, and he did a good job of scaring off your skeevy ex who refused to come around whenever Russell was in town because the last time Russell had broken his nose and threatened other bodily harm.
Russell’s soft smile drops a little the longer you remain silent. “But if you think that’s a bad idea or if you think it’s too fast-”
You pull him down to you for the searing kiss that you’d wanted all day long, feeling the drag of his beard against your soft skin, and the warm pillow of his lips moving in tandem with yours. 
His hands run along the curves of your body, trailing fire in their wake, the same curves that you’d hidden under long cardigans and oversized clothes, the ones that you cursed each time you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. But not since you’d met Russell. 
Not when he’d taught you that each blemish or curve you once cursed was something that could make him lose his last shred of self control and in turn, make Russell lose himself in everything you were. 
“It’s not too fast! I hate when you leave. I hate waking up in my bed each morning and not having you there holding me. ” You breathe before you kiss him again, soaking in everything that is Russell as you do. The roughness of his hands pushing up the shirt hung low on your hips, the smell of mint and gunmetal, the taste of the coffee he had this morning, and gentle drag of his wet hair against your cheeks that dip between the two of your faces when you kiss. “I want you here with me all the time.”
“Then I’ll stay.” Russell smiles so wide you can feel the click of his teeth against yours when he pulls you back in for a kiss. 
“Wait.” You smirk, leaning your forehead against his, your hands gently cupping his bearded cheeks. "If I say yes, I have one condition."
"Anything."
"Please let me call a plumber."
Russell rolls his eyes at you, but squeezes you tighter against him, green eyes flashing with mischief. “Not a chance baby.”
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A/N: It was so fun to write this prompt and also to come back to these two! Thank you so much @luci-in-trenchcoats for requesting this one 🥰 If anyone else would like to ask me a prompt for my prompt celebration, here is the post:
Prompt Celebration
As always, thank you so much for reading! Reblogs, comments, and likes are not required, but are always appreciated 😊
Taglist:
@roseblue373 @livya99 @mrsjenniferwinchester @zepskies @louisanalady
@yvonneeeee
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lillaydee · 1 day ago
Text
Head Over Heels Part 15
Jackson!Joel / Reader
Special Guest Appearance by a Certain FBI Agent who may or may not look a lot like Joel.
You left the loneliness of your home and headed to Jackson with Joel and the teenage girl he was with, hoping your new life would be less lonely. You should've stayed alone.
WARNING:
Non-canon Compliant, Pining, Fluff and Angst, Hurt Joel (The Last of Us), Joel is Bad at Feelings (The Last of Us), Joel Needs a Hug (The Last of Us), Joel Lives (The Last of Us), Protective Joel (The Last of Us), Soft Joel (The Last of Us), Jealousy, Loneliness, Trauma.
MEGA WARNING: Descriptions of Attempted Sexual Assault.
@copperhalfcent @joelalorian @vickie5446 @peelieblue @nandan11 @liciafonseca @senoratess @denisanoemi @lovefreylove @heartpatch
SERIES MASTER LIST
Part 14
---
He’s not here.
Wait a minute. Tommy said he’s not here.
He’s not here. That’s what he said.
He didn’t say something happened. He didn’t say he… you know…
Maybe he made a stop. Maybe he detoured. Maybe he went to Ricky’s.
Confirmation. You needed confirmation.
You needed him to say it.
In fact, even if he did say it, you needed more. Proof. The way you did with Pete.
As they said in the world before.
Pictures, or it didn’t happen.
No body, no… crime…
So… unless you saw his… you know… as far as you were concerned, he was on his way back.
You braced yourself, taking in deep, stuttered breaths, trying to will the question out. It felt as if you were in a fog, an underwater fog, if that made sense.
“Is he…?”
Tommy was silent. His eyes filled with tears.
“I don’t know. He told us to leave. He was fending them off.”
Maria was wiping the dried blood off his face, “I’m okay,” he told her, “Fell on my face, but Hank reset my nose. I’ll be okay,” he gently took her trembling hand away from his face, giving her a hug.
“So, when you left, he was…”
“Alive, yes, but Elena, there were maybe five of them and one of him, and he kept falling. I wanted to go back, help him, but he just kept telling us to leave…”
And just like that, it was as if your brain reset itself.
“Oh, so he should be, what, a few hours away? Okay. I’ll just wait for him here,” you said, walking towards the security office, pulling a chair and plopping yourself on it.
“Elena,” Hank gently said, lowering himself to your level. “We stopped for the night, twice, about four hours at a time, and stopped every 3 hours or so to rest the horses. He didn’t catch up to us.”
“Well, maybe he stopped when you stopped, only further back. He’ll be along. I’ll wait.”
You studied the book Tommy just gave you, a small smile on your face. He remembered. He’d been listening. You’d always wondered if he did; every time you and Ellie talked he stood still, looking out for threats. You’d always assumed he wasn’t paying attention, but he did. He knew you were looking for this book.
You wondered if he was the one who had been scavenging the stuff Tess brought you all this while as well.
Your thoughts were interrupted by another chair being placed next to you. Ellie had decided to sit with you rather than go to school.
“Elena, Ellie,” Tommy said, a sad look on his bloodied face.
“You should go get cleaned up before you see Jake, Tommy. You look like shit. It’s okay. We’ll let you know when he gets here,” you said, squeezing his arm a little.
He stood there, not moving.
“You heard her, Tommy. Go see your son. We will wait for Joel here,” Ellie was so stern about it Tommy gave in, going to his horse and getting something else.
It was the whole set of the Chronicles of Narnia. You had told Ellie about it, even looked for them any time you passed the remains of a book store or library. She was looking forward to reading it, disappointed to see that the small library in Jackson was devoid of the books.
“He heard us,” she told you, smiling.
You nodded.
There was a strange look on her face after that. A look you decided you didn’t want to entertain at the time, and one she herself decided not to indulge in.
So there you sat, the two of you, waiting for your travel mate, the man who cared about the both of you in his own ways, eyes locked on the gate, hands holding each other’s, unmoving, waiting for Joel Miller to show his face when the gate opened next.
You sat there with Ellie all the way to night time, the guards placing an oil drum behind you and lighting some woods to keep the two of you warm, your brothers, Diana, Liv, Maria taking turns keeping the two of you in silent company, bringing food and hot chocolate and coffee to keep you alert. The guards gave you both blankets, and soon enough, the two of you nodded off, leaning against each other, sleeping in intervals of maybe ten minutes or so before being jolted awake by clicking sounds and Joel’s screams.
You were shaken awake sometime near sunrise by a worried Will, Benny standing a little way behind him, offering to get you and Ellie home. You shook your head, sitting straight, eyes back on the gates.
Will and Benny decided it was better not to say anything to you or Ellie, having heard from others how the two of you reacted to the fact that Joel didn’t return. Will tried again, telling you it’s not good to be sitting out in the cold all day and all night like that, but you wouldn’t budge. You wanted Joel to see you there when he returned. You wanted him to know you were waiting for him. That you wanted to be with him. Live a life as a family with him and Ellie, the three of you together.
They left for patrol soon after, and Marcus came to bring you and Ellie food, offering to take the books home for you so they had less chance to get wet in the snow. There’s so much 21 years old plastic coverings could do, he said, before wincing to get up as he held the books to his body, a hiss escaping his lips.
You and Ellie immediately shot up to help him, and he asked if the two of you could walk him home, his wound stinging a little. Of course, the two of you said, and went with him, you, letting him use you as a crutch, Ellie, carrying the books Joel had found for the both of you. It wasn’t until you and Ellie were standing in your old house’s living room that you realized he had tricked you into going home, both of you delirious from the cold and lethargy, having hardly slept at all the night before. Rest, he said, once you had, he would come get you two to wait at the gate for Joel himself, placing the books on the coffee table before closing the door behind him.
The living room was warm, the fireplace roaring with fire. Tommy must have come in and lit it for the two of you. Ellie looked at you for a second, before taking the blanket that was thrown haphazardly over the back of the couch and folding it, telling you she was going to clean up, straighten the house a bit, so Joel wouldn’t have to worry about it when he got back.
Yeah, that’s a good idea. Let’s clean.
The two of you spent the next five to six hours scrubbing the house top to bottom, cleaning every crevice with the exception of Joel’s room and the basement. For some odd reason, neither of you could go there. You scrubbed your old room, the bathrooms, the kitchen, even took out everything from the cabinets and scrubbing the insides, washing and wiping everything before placing them all back. The house was gleaming by the time the two of you were done.
And then the two of you just stood there. Again.
“I’m gonna go shovel snow,” Ellie said, going to the back garden.
Now what?
You went to the basement door, your hand on the brass knob you had just spent 30 minutes polishing, turning it.
You stood in the empty basement, looking at the shelves Joel had put together for his projects and tools. The place was meticulously organized, there was a place for everything. Wood pieces in a crate in one corner, metal in another. You smiled at the thought of Joel coming home all excited to store the scraps he found on patrol, some project or other on his mind, seeing the end result in things that probably looked like garbage to others.
You went to the stool that was stored away under the cleared worktop, running your hand on the table as you pulled the stool out, sitting on it, elbows on the table. You imagined Joel sitting here, working away, his eyes focused on the work. You looked at the shelves above the table, shoe boxes labelled with the odds and thingamajigs on them, mason jars with screws and nails by size.
And right there, right above what you imagined was his eye line, front and centre to his sitting position, was a wooden box. A beautifully carved wooden box.
You knew you shouldn’t, but you couldn’t help yourself. You took it down, placing it on the worktop.
You opened the box, and immediately got overwhelmed with feelings you didn’t know you could feel.
The top layer was filled with dices. Wooden dices. Of different sizes and stages of completion. Some carved, some not, the carved ones of varying alphabets, each one representing a letter in your name, some more practiced and perfect than others.
You lifted the top layer out. Your eyes began to prickle, your lips, tremble.
The rest of the box was filled with metal scraps. Scraps that was meticulously carved and shaped into various items, all incomplete thus far. A plain bracelet, what looked like pieces of a chain mail, a bracelet that had been pounded on, creating an interesting pattern on it, a few pieces of metal that looked like army tags, your name written in pencil on them, a few had haphazard printings of your name, a rough, partially worked piece with a cursive ‘Ele’ spelled out, the rest still in pencil, small enough to be a locket, like those you saw some women wore around their necks in the before, made of gold.
There was a smaller box with stones in them. Not gem, you thought, but some were polished so much they shone like one. There were broken ones from where he might’ve drilled into them, experimenting, but kept the pieces, nonetheless.
And in a small velvet pouch, right at the corner of the box, two silver rings. The bigger of the two with your name carved on the inside.
This was the box. The one he asked you not to snoop into if you ever wandered down here. A box filled with you. His thoughts of you.
You had to stop. The prickling in your eyes got hotter and hotter as you packed the box back up and carried it with you upstairs. You went up to your old room, wanting to lie down a little, rest, as Marcus had said.
But you didn’t go into your old room. Instead, you were drawn to his, that box he had once warned you not to open clutched to your chest.
His room was like him. Simple. Manly. Understated. But oh so him. You sat on his bed and picked up his blanket, unconsciously bringing the soft material to your nose, inhaling the deep scent that was all him.
And just like that, your brain reset itself again.
You broke.
You sobbed, wailed, cried in hysterics, his name came out in screams from your raw throat.
The last time you saw him, you slapped him, broke up with him. That look of resignation on his face was all you could see right now. He left thinking you didn’t want him anymore.
God only knew how long you sobbed on his bed, head on his pillow, his smell all around you. You wrapped his blanket around you, wishing to God knows who that you could have one more chance to feel his arms around you, his lips on your temple, see his dimply smile again.
You cried until your throat hurt. You wailed until your voice went away. You sobbed until your tears dried.
By the time your body gave up, unable to produce anymore emotions or any bodily fluids that come with it, you saw Ellie watching you from the slightly open door, tears falling thickly down her face. You wanted to comfort her, wanted to ask her to join you in Joel’s bed, but your body wasn’t responding. So the two of you just stared at each other for a while, a shared grief flooding your faces, two people who did not want to say the possibility of the reality out loud.
You didn’t know when exactly, but you fell asleep, the box clutched to your chest, his blanket all around you, your face in his pillow, breathing in the comfort that only his scent could give you.
**********
You stirred when you felt a calloused hand gently caressing your face. You opened your eyes, Joel lying next to you.
“Hi darling,” he said, smiling.
You were shocked. But… he was…
“Sorry I’m late,” his eyebrows scrunched in mock apology, although his teasing smile remained.
You lunged at him, burying your nose in the crook of his neck, chastising him for making you so worried. He laughed, the vibrations from his chuckles reverberating into your chest as you took deep, deep breaths to take his scent in. He had showered, dressed himself in that dark green flannel that used to belong to Frank. The one he wore from your place in Boston. The one you thought you had discarded when you first got back to Jackson.
He always looked good in that flannel.
Anyway, he’s here. That’s all that mattered anymore. He’s here. He’s safe. He’s back.
He lifted your head away from his neck, kissing you. And you kissed him back, putting all your apologies and relief that he was back into it. It was not a tame kiss. Your tongues mated with each other’s, your hands all over each other’s bodies. He pushed you onto your back, placing himself between your legs, peeling your clothes off one by one as he continued kissing you. You couldn’t think, your hands ceased to function. You let him undress you, his mouth trailing all over your body, kissing and licking at every inch of skin he revealed as he took your clothes off.
The room was quiet, save for your whimpers and the sounds of his lips worshipping your body. But when he laid down between your legs and worshiped you like no man had ever done before, the fact that a teenage girl might be downstairs became a distant memory as you screamed his name out loud, your body lifting off the bed as he took you higher, higher, higher, and brought you to heaven.
You didn’t even have the chance to come down to earth before he was on you again, kissing you like your lips were air and he was a man starved for oxygen, your hands, having found the will to work again ripping his clothes off him. When your bodies united, you floated away unto the heavens again, lips melded, bodies joined, and he brought you to heaven one more time, this time joining you himself, groaning and grunting as he buried his face in your neck, telling you again and again how sorry he was for making you worried about him.
The sound of a door slamming jolted you, and you sat up, finding yourself in the dark, fully dressed, your eyes still puffy, your throat still raw, alone in Joel’s room. You scrambled out of bed, looking for him all over the house, praying to a being you didn’t know you believed in for him to be somewhere in the house. Please, let this be one of those dreams you’d always had about him, the ones where you thought you were dreaming, but found out later it all had been real. This had to have been real, right? Your lips still felt his, your body still felt his warmth, your nose still smelt his scent.
But no. Joel was nowhere to be found.
It was all a dream. Just a dream. Or a nightmare.
Where are you, Joel?
**********
A week went by, and you spent your days waiting by the gate. Ellie kept you company, neither fully believing he was gone. You needed more time, he needed more time. He’ll come back, you knew it. He had to. You needed him to.
You almost clawed one of the younger guard’s eyes out when he mentioned getting ready to carve a wooden headstone with Joel’s name, in preparation for a funeral. The poor lad was only worried that he would do a bad job, Joel was, after all, the best woodworker they had. Tommy hissed and spat at the poor young man for even saying that, telling him there was no funeral to be had, not yet, only refraining himself from punching him because Jake was there. He brought Jake to see you every day by the gate, hoping to cheer you up some. It sort of worked, the little boy’s gummy smile might be the one thing that could cheer you up these days.
Every single time the gates open, your heart swelled with hope, only to deflate again when it was just another patrol group coming back. You were there so often the guard dogs got comfortable enough to lay at your feet, keeping them warm as you waited. You had taken to peeling potatoes and various vegetables right there at the gates, feeling guilty that you were finally cleared to work, but would rather wait for a man who may or may never return instead.
You spent your nights waiting by the gates, going to your old home near midnight, sleeping on the couch, unwilling to risk breaking like you did again if you entered Joel’s room. You didn’t want to leave Ellie alone in the house, yet, moving back in felt too soon and final, as if accepting that he was never coming back. So you slept on the couch, just so that you could be alerted as soon as possible should he come back.
On day ten, Maria asked you to help set up the quarantine rooms. The patrol team had radioed ahead – they found two ladies wondering some miles away and were bringing them back.
You went ahead to help, and watched as the two ladies, cousins, apparently, come in, the dogs sniffing at them diligently to detect any form of infections. After 24 hours, you helped them settle in one of the smaller houses in the far corner of the town and showed them around the next day.
They had travelled for months, they told you, their family farm attacked by raiders. They were kept as prisoners in their own home, used as sex slaves by the raiders, until they managed to escape in the middle of the night, burning the house down with the five men in it.
The older of the two, Lydia, was about five years younger than you, and her cousin Teresa was even younger. You introduced them around, the ladies quickly making friends around town, both ladies settled quite nicely in the vegetable farm.
Before you knew it, five more days had passed, ten days since Joel was originally supposed to be back. You found yourself slowly resigning to the fact that he might never return but refused to say it out loud. No one did, not even Hank and Tommy, despite their initial tries to get you to face reality. Ellie spent more and more time with you. She refused to open the books Joel got her, wanting to open them when he returned, whenever that may be. The Return of the King was safely placed on the bookshelf in his living room, also waiting for his return to be unwrapped.
You had breakfast on the 13th day with Ellie and Marcus, telling Ellie she had to go to school that day, the teenager rolling her eyes at you, bargaining that she would do maths with you at the gate if you would let her skip school, yet again. You said no, and she begged Marcus to help her out, only to be met with a stern shake of the head from him, telling her he’s not getting in trouble with you. She tried her luck with Will, Benny, and even Liv and Diana when they joined the three of you for breakfast, Benny telling her she’s fresh out of luck. As you and Marcus walked her out to school, you passed the two new ladies, who greeted the three of you politely.
“That Teresa is pretty,” you teased him, Ellie overenthusiastically agreeing with you. “I think she thinks you’re pretty, too!”
He laughed, shaking his head a little, “Nope, something about her is off to me. She seemed like someone who would agree to move in with you, said yes when you propose, and then retract it later that same day,” he told you, cringing and shuddering a little, shrugging his shoulders.
Ellie snorted, “That was oddly specific! What movie have you been watching to get that from a smile?”
The three of you laughed so much at his declaration you had to stop walking, basically bent double from laughing. Marcus was laughing so much he was legitimately in danger of ripping his nearly healed gunshot wound.
“Elena! Ellie!” Tommy came running, out of breath, looking as if he was about to explode. “They spotted someone. Come on, the gates,” he said.
All laughter was forgotten. You and Ellie ran at full speed towards the gates, Marcus following behind, going to the hall to alert your brothers. By the time they got to the gates, a small crowd had gathered, you, Ellie and Tommy front and centre, arms around each other, holding your breaths in anticipation.
The seconds felt like weeks. After what felt like hours, the guards shouted for the men to open the gates. There was no thundering hooves to be heard, so this was not patrolmen. This was a lone person. The gates opening had never been slower, the groans had never been louder.
And there he was, the man you loved, walking slowly into Jackson, pulling Captain by the reins, covered in muck and blood, his body looking thinner than it was when you last saw him, his hair unkempt, longer than you'd ever seen since knowing him, his beard and moustache so long you could barely see his beautiful lips, limping a little, his eyes searching the crowds. He smiled weakly at you as soon as he spotted your emotional face, handing Captain’s reins to one of the guards.
You ran towards him, Ellie and Tommy close behind, but he held his hand up, asking the three of you to stop, just as the dogs got close to him, immediately barking madly, snarling, heckles raised, bodies stiff, telling everyone they smelled something on him.
He stood there, a look of resignation on his face, regretful eyes on you, as the guards raised their guns at him, ready to shoot.
---
Part 16
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black-wolf066 · 3 days ago
Text
You Tease
This is a gift for @shes-an-odd-bird because we all seem to be in a feral mood this week and I’m hoping it’ll help tame our hormones.
((This is my first ever Character/reader piece… and it’s been a very long time since I’ve written any smut, now that I think about it… so keep that in mind as you read. 😅 Also note, this is an established relationship between Billy and Reader with both being mid-twenties)).
All smut/no plot (because I can’t brain enough to think of a plot right now) so, minors do not engage.
Warnings: Unprotected sex. Language
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"Have I ever told you how hot you look in my clothes?" Billy practically purred in your ear; keeping you caged between himself and the bedroom wall.
The clothing in question was his old gym shorts. You had found them laying behind the dryer when you’d moved it to clean the vent earlier that day—must have fallen back there unbeknownst to either of you. You had cleaned them, but rather than storing them away for him to find as a surprise later, you wore them instead—knowing what wearing his clothes would do to him and being utterly ecstatic that he was proving your hopes correct for how this night was going to go.
“You’ve mentioned it, yes.” You quipped back, pressing your forehead hard against the drywall as shivers of anticipation shot down your spine.
You felt the fingers of his left-hand toying with the waistband, while his other glided purposefully up your side—taking the fabric of your tank with it until he had it bunched up under your chin. You had decidedly forgone wearing a bra that morning, which meant your breasts and stomach were exposed to the chilled surface and the AC in the room; though, it did very little to counteract the heated flush of your growing excitement.
“Was wondering where these disappeared too.” He muttered as he pulled against the band and released; the elastic snapping at your hip making you jump a little. “Thought maybe they’d been tossed.”
You weren’t paying much attention to what he was saying; squirming at the feeling of his hot breath against the shell of your ear. The pleasant Goosebumps rising where the pads of his fingers continued to toy and trail feather-light against your newly exposed skin.
“I—” whatever you were going to say was lost, voice breaking off on a lengthy whine as his hips suddenly bucked roughly against you.
“What was that babe? I don’t think I caught that.” he teased playfully, knowing exactly the effect he was having on you and your sudden inability to articulate.
You would have huffed something snarky at him if you weren’t so distracted. The stimulation of his light touch, the scratchy feel of the dry wall rubbing at your sensitive nipples, the heat radiating into your back from his naked torso, and the rough grinding of his clothed stirring erection against your ass; had you dazed and breathless.
And hungry for more.
“Billy.” You managed to moan out; wiggling backward—as best you could with the little space he was giving you—to meet his grinding with a thrust of your own.
“Yeah? You like that?”
“Billy.”
“What do you want?” he breathily chuckled as he finally moved away from your ear to bite and suckle at the pulse point thrumming wildly beneath it. “Use your words, babe.”
Shit, this man was going to be the death of you.
“F—” you swallowed thickly, writhing under his ministrations and the over-stimulation; feeling close to cumming then and there as you forced out, “Fuck me.”
“Needy little thing, aren’t you?”
He moved away just enough to unzip and drop his jeans, but not enough for you to lose your balance. Not like it stopped you from reaching up to grasp the wall for support anyways, breath hitching as you felt his fingers breach the waistband and slide the shorts down until they fell at your ankles. You kicked them away quickly before a surprised squeak escaped as you felt yourself being lifted and turned, your back now pressed against the wall as you automatically wrapped your legs around his hips.
Your tank top was the last to go before his mouth found your lips seconds later in a messy tangle of tongue and teeth; grinding his thick girth against your wet folds while your hands found their way up into his curls.
“You’re already soaked, bet I could just slide right in.” he taunted, nudging the head of his fat cock teasingly at your opening but not dipping beyond that.
If he didn’t move right now; you were going to lose your goddamn mind.
“Fuck me.” You repeated forcibly against his lips.
You tightened your ankles at his back and bounced yourself a little; impatiently hoping it would get you what you wanted faster; only for stars to dance across your vision when the head slipped and nudged up against your clit.
“And you say I’m the brat?”
“Billy.”
His huff of aroused amusement was your only warning before he shifted and thrusted shallowly into you; stretching you deliciously—and maddeningly slowly the absolute jerk.
“This what you wanted?” he questioned huskily, continuing the shallow rolling that had your toes curling. “Did you wear my shorts hoping I’d fuck you tonight?”
“Y--es!” you yelped as he nipped lightly at your earlobe.
“Oh, baby, you know all you gotta do is ask.” He chuckled. “Though, can’t say I’m opposed to the method. Did get us here—” he punctuated his point by finally—blissfully—sliding himself home inside you. “—a bit quicker.”
You buried your face into his shoulder, muffling the guttural whine that squeezed out of your lungs by biting down at the sinew there. The feeling of being speared open by Billy always dazed you, something you hoped you’d never get used too.
“Fuck,” Billy grunted out his own throaty moan at feeling your teeth.
His hips bucked involuntarily, causing your eyes to nearly roll to the back of your head as the movement pushed him just that little bit deeper. The pleasure-pain of him hitting your cervix and his pubic bone grinding just so on your clit, sent a violent spark of fireworks to burst cross your vision as you climaxed.
“Shit, shit.” He keened gruffly, probably not expecting you to orgasm as quickly as you had—for you certainly didn’t expect it either, not that you had any mind to care at the moment—as you felt your walls fluttering and squeezing all around him.
“Sh--shit.” You echoed him; feeling as though you were floating on cloud 9, body loosening and relaxing with Billy’s powerful biceps and the wall being the only thing keeping you from falling flat on your ass.
“You good?” he asked after a moment.
“Yeah,” you nodded, and pressed your heels into the small of his back to urge him to continue. “Yeah, I’m good.”
Billy didn’t need much more prompting, his teasing long forgotten as he began to roll and thrust his hips in earnest to chase his own climax.
All you could do was try and hold on for dear life, as he pounded into you; your muscles still not quite cooperating enough to help him along.
“Damn baby, you feel so good.” The obscene wet squelching of skin on skin and the heady scent of sex filled the air as he continued his bruising pace—though you could tell he was getting close. “Think you got another one in you?”
You could feel your pleasure climbing again, your limbs finally following your silent command as you clumsily met him thrust for thrust. You didn’t trust your voice though, so you nodded and sent the next breathy moan directly into his ear, causing him to curse as his hips stuttered.
“Shit.” He moaned. “That’s my girl.”
The praise paired with the intentional grinding of his pubic bone against your clit sent you over the edge again, very nearly screaming at the intensity of the second wave that crashed into you.
“Fuck, that’s it, that’s it. That’s a good girl.” He panted into your neck, snapping his hips several more times before your tight, fluttering, walls were milking him of his own orgasm.
Neither of you moved for a while, both of you fighting to catch your breath and come down from the high. The tingling sensation was beginning to subside as you buried your face in his neck; breathing in the sweaty musk of him as your limbs began to go boneless. Billy was muttering something into the skin of your own neck, but you couldn’t hear it, ears still ringing a little—though you had a feeling you knew exactly what was being muttered.
It was only when you felt Billy’s muscles beginning to strain, that you tried to get him to drop you back on your feet, but he didn’t budge. He only held on a bit tighter as he shifted your weight; your back leaving the support of the wall as he finally moved you both toward the bed.
He fell into the mattress with you still secured in his arms, but the movement caused him to finally slip out. You released an involuntary whimper at the loss of feeling full that had him chuckling at your expense.
“Hush,” you snarked and nuzzled your nose against his collarbone; feeling his fingers trail up and down your spine and relishing in the warmth and smell of the post coital bliss for as long as you could.
You were on the verge of sleep when his quiet voice pulled you back.
“Where did you find them anyway?”
“Hmm?”
“My shorts. Where did you find them?”
“Behind the dryer.” You muttered drowsily; grumbling when his chuckle jostled you.
“Did I wear you out that much?” he asked in amusement; fingers still gently following the path of your spine. You hummed in response, the call of sleep too much to ignore. “And here I thought we’d have time to go another round.”
“Hmm… wake me in an hour.”
His answering laugh followed you into your dreams.
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beef-brisket · 2 days ago
Note
Adam: ...Jesus christ. The fuck was that-? Where did that come from?
Lucifer laughed: It's just a lil something I pull out on special occasions.
Adam: Shit, man... not going to lie, that was kinda hot. Also, the fuck is a dragon driller 9000?
Lucifer smirked: Life size dragon dildo, baby~.
Adam: I'm... I'm not going to ask anymore questions- uh, thank you, Ozzie, for sponsoring this episode. That'll pay for my room renovation and maybe some therapy sessions.
Lucifer laughed: Just go fuck one.
Adam: You want me to fuck a therapist that went to Hell? Nah, man. No thanks.
Lucifer shrugged: It's better than fucking a teacher that went to Hell-.
Adam: Fuck sakes, your one sick bastard, aren't you?
Lucifer: What?! I'm not lying!
Adam: Look- this isn't what Ozzie intended to be talked about after his ad, alright?
Lucifer: Hm. Fair enough. Have you brought anything from Ozzie's store-?
Adam blushed: W-What kind of fucking question is that?!
Lucifer: It's just a question! I have-!
Adam: Don't want to know, shorty!
Lucifer: Come on, Adam! We're all friends here!
Adam: ...Fine... I got one thing- ONE.
Lucifer: Oh, yeah~? What was it~?
Adam glared: Mother fucker- I'm not telling you!
Lucifer shrugged: Alright listeners, on our website, will be a pole. Vote on what kind of toy Adam brought. One to fuck himself with or one he fucks~.
Adam: T-The fuck man?! You little bastards aren't finding out!
Lucifer: Ah, so it's one that he fucks himself with- good to know~.
Now Adam was blushing the hardest he's ever blushed: How do you know that-?! I mean- what makes you think that?!
Lucifer: You would have been quick to say ots one you fuck. Looks like that whole angel thing of not telling lies is still in grained in you, huh, big guy~?
Adam: Mtoherfucker- just move on!
Lucifer: Alright, alright... just remember the dragon driller is 30% off~.
Adam was silent as he tapped away on his phone.
Lucifer smirked: Ordering one, huh?
Adam: What?! No! I'm ub- ordering dinner- piss off, Lu!
Lucifer: Oh, can I get something?
Adam quickly pulls his phone into his chest as Lucifer reaches over to grab it.
Adam: I-I'll order for you, shorty!
The Hotel Yard
Adam: So, Lucifer hadn't heard this yet but there is an AI version of our show already.
Lucifer: Shit, okay.
AI Lucifer: Hello everyone I'm with my co-host Adam. And might I say you look like you've escaped from a mental institution.
Adam: So already you start off with insulting me
Lucifer: Yeah but we take turns
Adam: Giving blows to each other
Lucifer: Yeah we take turns blowing each other.
Adam: HAHAHA!!
AI Adam: That's not nice Lu
AI Lucifer: No, but you want to know something else? We're gay for each other.
Lucifer: What!? Hahaha!
Adam: Fucking Jesus hahaha!
I love these goobers so much 😂
AI Adam: We love recording this podcast. But our fathers hate us.
Lucifer and Adam nearly die if laughing.
Lucifer: W-What the fuck?!
Adam: It's not fucking wrong, dude!
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allthingsfangirl101 · 2 days ago
Text
My Archenemy – Tyler Owens
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All anyone can talk about is Tyler Owens. My students are obsessed with his videos. They idolize him.
I, on the other hand, would love to go a day without someone bringing him up. After high school, I stayed in town and went to the nearby college. I remained here and ended up teaching science at my old high school. Tyler only reappeared when tornados came to town.
I tried not to think about him. I didn't want to. We were childhood archenemies. Tyler and I were constantly competing. From spelling tests to reading competitions to science fairs. I was better at biology. Tyler was better at environmental science. We were always going head-to-head.
Whenever one of us won something, the other jumped up and won at the next thing. It got tiresome for me, but Tyler loved the competition.
After a long day at work, I stopped at the grocery store on my way home. I roamed the aisles, grabbing things here and there. I let out a sigh of relief when I saw that there was still one box of my favorite granola bars left. I went to grab it but someone had the same idea.
"Oh. I'm sorry. . . I was just. . . Tyler Owens?"
"Well, I'll be," he chuckled, instantly smirking his famous smirk. "If it isn't little Y/F/N Y/L/N."
"I'm surprised to see you back in town," I said, resisting the urge to look him up and down.
"Did you miss me?" He smirked.
"No," I didn't hesitate. "But now I miss the peace that was here when you weren't."
I started to reach for the box of granola bars, but Tyler snatched it. "Really?" I mumbled under my breath.
"I seem to remember you always had several of these in your backpack in high school," he chuckled as he pretended to read the nutritional facts. He smirked at me before dropping it into his handbasket.
"And something tells me you're not going to give me the last box," I scoffed, grabbed my shopping cart, and started walking the other way.
"We could make an exchange," Tyler said after he jogged to catch up with me.
"You have nothing I would want," I scoffed.
"Not even in exchange for the only food I've ever seen you eat?" He chuckled.
"Nope," I said, grabbing some cereal.
"You're no fun," he pouted.
"Yep."
"You haven't changed, have you, Y/L/N?"
"You shouldn't change perfection, Owens."
* * * * *
After my weird run-in with Tyler, I went home and instantly ordered my favorite granola bars on Amazon. I then used a bottle of wine to help me forget about our town's hero.
When I went to work the next day, the students were all buzzed. I had no idea why until I heard a certain conversation.
"Can you believe he's here?" One of my female students giggled.
"Isn't he from here?" Her friend asked.
"He is!" Another one of their friends added. He did a video a few years ago, and they talked about how he grew up here and even went to this school!"
"Wait," the first girl said, "didn't Ms. Y/L/N go to this school when she was our age?"
I kept my focus on my computer, hoping they wouldn't do what I thought they were about to do.
They did.
"Ms. Y/L/N, we have a question."
"What's up, girls?" I asked.
"Is it true that you went to school here?" They started with a warm-up question. They did this all the time.
"I did," I nodded, leaning back in my chair and embracing myself for the question they really wanted to ask me.
"Is it true that Tyler Owens, the Tornado Wrangler, went to school with you?"
"He did," I sighed. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes when they squealed.
"We know he's gorgeous, but what was he like in person?"
"Is he sweet?"
"Is he funny?"
"Was he always the 'risk his life to save others' type?"
"He is basically the town's hero! Did he ever save you?"
"Girls," I cut them off, "I'll answer your questions if you answer mine."
"Sure!"
"Have you finished your assignment?" I smirked when they looked at each other. I almost laughed when they sighed and walked back to their desks. Luckily, the bell rang before they could come back and ask me those questions.
At the end of the day, I finished a few things before heading out. By then, it was raining. I pulled my jacket over my head and ran to my car. As I got in, I debated whether driving home in this weather could be unsafe, but there was no sign of it letting up.
My need for comfy clothes and a glass of wine convinced me to risk it. I carefully pulled out of the staff parking lot and headed home. I got to a red light and looked at the clouds, wondering if this would turn into a Tyler Owen's Worthy Storm. When the light turned green, I didn't hesitate to go.
I should've hesitated.
Right as I went through the intersection, another car ran the red light. I didn't have time to react before they hit my back tire. My car started spinning but there was nothing I could do to get out of it. Suddenly, I heard a large bang and my car stopped spinning.
I looked around but nothing made sense. I couldn't recognize any landmarks. I couldn't even remember what light I was at when I got hit.
"Y/N?!"
I couldn't respond. My head was spinning too much. I reached up, gasping in pain when I touched something wet.
"Y/N, are you alright?"
When I brought my hand back down, there was blood on my fingers. I leaned my head against the headrest, waiting for the spinning to stop.
"Shit, you're bleeding," the voice said. "Y/N, unlock the door."
I could feel my hand shaking as I hit the unlock button. As soon as I did, the door swung open. Someone knelt next to me, gently putting their wet hand on my knee. I could feel the rain hitting my face.
"Y/N," they said, their voice softer this time. "Look at me. Please?"
When I did, it took a second before I realized who it was. "Tyler?" I stuttered.
"Oh good," he joked. "You didn't hit your head so hard that you forgot about me."
"I wish I had," I mumbled as I looked away.
"You wanna know something, Y/L/N?" He chuckled. "I don't think you actually hate me. I think you pretend to hate me so I don't find out that you have a crush on me."
"You wanna know something, Owens?" I repeated his question, slowly lifting my head and looking at him. "I would. . ."
I closed my eyes and leaned my head back against the headrest when it got too painful to try and focus on his face.
"We can bicker later," he said lightly. "Right now, let's get you some help. He grabbed my hand as he stayed squatting down but called 911.
Tyler stayed with me the whole time. He was right by my side, getting soaked in the rain, as we waited for the ambulance. Even as they put me in the back and took me to the hospital, Tyler stayed in the rain, watching.
* * * * *
I was only in the hospital for a night. I called the school and let them know what happened. They didn't hesitate to cover my classes for me and reassure me that they could handle things until I was better.
When I got home, I instantly collapsed on the couch. I put on a show I was binging before the accident and soon fell asleep on the couch. I woke up about an hour later to someone knocking.
"Tyler," I gasped when I opened the door. I subconsciously wrapped my cardigan tighter around me. "What are you doing here?"
"I heard you were released from the hospital earlier this morning and I wanted to see how you were feeling," he said, shoving his hands into his back pockets.
"I'm fine," I sighed.
"Are you sure? It was a bad accident," he shrugged. Something in his eyes changed. "Your car spun out and you ended up hitting. . ."
"I know," I cut him off, looking away from his weirdly soft eyes. "It was just a concussion."
"But it must've been scary," he said softly. I looked back at him, my heart feeling like it was in my throat.
"I don't remember it much," I mumbled.
"You don't?" He asked, taking a small step toward me.
"I remember my car spinning out," I recalled slowly. "And trying to turn out of it. Then. . . nothing."
"Y/N," he said softly.
"What are you doing?" I snapped, breaking this weird tension.
"What do you mean?" He chuckled.
"This," I said, gesturing between him and me. "You coming and checking on me. Being sweet. Saving me."
"Y/N," he gently cut me off. "Do you really think I'm the kind of guy who'd watch you get in a car accident and not help you?"
"You did it in high school," I said, dropping my voice.
As I stared at him, I remembered the day in high school when I got rear-ended on my way home from school. I still remember being on the phone, waiting for my dad to answer, and seeing Tyler drive by in his truck.
"Y/N. . ." He stuttered.
"Thank you for checking on me," I said, clearing my throat, "but I'm fine. In fact, I should probably get some rest."
Before he could say anything else, I shut the door.
* * * * *
A few hours later, I sighed when there was a knock on the door. I stood up but had to stop because I felt dizzy. When it passed, I slowly made my way to the door.
"Tyler," I stuttered. "What are you doing here? Again?"
"I wanted to apologize," he said. "I know we had our weird back-and-forth growing up, but I want you to know that I didn't hate you when we were younger. I've never hated you, Y/N."
I smirked as I folded my arms and leaned against the doorframe. "So the time you stole my science notes and spilled soda all over them? Or the time you wrote swear words on my notecard for our biology exam? Or the time you almost tripped me at graduation?"
"Don't you notice flirting when you see it?"
"Bullshit," I scoffed a little too soon.
I saw the look on his face drop. Only for a second though. He quickly recovered his annoying smirk. My heart jumped into my throat when he took a step closer, instantly feeling like he was towering over me.
"Clearly, I need to take a more direct approach."
"Direct approach?" I repeated. "Tyler, what are you. . ."
He cut me off by grabbing my face and pressing his lips to mine. I wasn't sure what to do. My mind was racing and all I could focus on, besides Tyler's surprisingly soft hands holding my face, was the feeling of his lips on mine. Sooner than I would've liked, he broke the kiss.
"I may not have stayed," he whispered, "but I called the police."
"What are you talking about?" I asked, matching his tone.
"That day," he continued, dropping his hands from my face, "in high school. When you got into your crash, I froze. I kept driving because I didn't know what to do. When I got home, I instantly called the cops. I didn't even tell my mom until after I had gotten off the phone."
"Why are you telling me this?" My voice was now under my breath.
"Because when I saw your accident yesterday, I didn't freeze," he said gently. "I knew I had to do something. And fast. I couldn't drive away again."
"I shouldn't have brought that up," I stuttered.
"No, it's okay," he cut me off. "I was wrong not to do anything in high school. I should've stayed around. I should've helped you."
"You did tonight," I said, my voice dropping again. I couldn't help but smile when I thought about the girls in my class the other day.
"What?" He asked, his playful smirk returning.
"It's something my students said the day of the accident."
Tyler smiled as he reached up and moved some hair out of my face, his hand lingering on my face. "What did they say, Ms. Y/L/N?" He lightly teased.
"You really are this town's hero."
Tyler laughed, slightly shaking his head. "I only care about being one person's hero," he said, slowly leaning in.
"Who's?" I couldn't help but ask.
"Yours."
He leaned in and pressed his lips to mine. I ignored all the doubts that flooded my brain as our lips started moving in sync. I grabbed the front of his flannel, pulling him closer to me. He responded by wrapping his arms around my waist.
"Oh!" He broke the kiss suddenly. "I almost forgot."
Confusion flooded me as Tyler stepped slightly out my front door and grabbed something from the ground. When he turned back toward me, he was holding a box of my favorite granola bars.
"I believe I owe you these."
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