#my brother while i'm typing this: you look happy. too happy. *suspicious look*

[nhlclover]

ALL'S FAIR IN LOVE AND WAR QUINN HUGHES

pairings: quinn hughes x fem!reader, (little bit of) jack hughes x fem!reader

summary: trevor invites you to a lakehouse for the summer, attempting to set him up with his friend. however, the summer doesn't go to plan when you meet his older brother who captures your eye and flips everything upside down.

warnings: very obviously angst, sort of a love triangle, jack and quinn kind of hating each other, slow burn, reader and trevor having a sibling type relationship, one singular kiss, brief appearances from trevor & luke

word count: 11.6k

notes: wooooo mama this is the absolute longest thing i've ever written. i really hope you guys enjoy it, i'm pretty happy with this.

The scene of the lake house standing tall in front of you was something straight out of your imagination. It was picturesque, the way the large house was nestled amongst the pine trees and the glimmering water sparkling behind it. It was just the way that Trevor had described it when he invited (or rather insisted) you to come to his buddy’s lake house this summer.

“You’ll love it! It’s so nice up there,” Trevor had urged, his enthusiasm infectious. You could still hear his voice, brimming with excitement. “It’s my friend Jack’s place. You guys would get along great! And his brothers are super chill too.”

At the time, you’d felt a mix of curiosity and skepticism. It’d been about three years you’d been friends with Trevor, long enough to know that when his tone got this excited and he was this insistent, he was up to something.

“Are you trying to set me up with him?” you’d asked, narrowing your eyes suspiciously at Trevor as the two of you sat in a coffee shop a few months ago. He had been uncharacteristically fidgety, bouncing his knee up and down while stirring his iced coffee with an unnecessary amount of focus.

Trevor had grinned at you in that annoyingly charming way he did when he was caught. “Nooo, I’m just saying you guys would vibe. He’s a cool guy. Super chill.”

You rolled your eyes, folding your arms across your chest. “Uh-huh. And his brothers?”

“Also cool!” Trevor leaned in, eyes sparkling with mischief. “But listen, Jack’s the one I think you’d really like. Just come for like, a week or two, see what happens. No pressure. I promise you’ll have fun.”

You’d hesitated, not entirely convinced. But Trevor knew exactly how to play on your curiosity, and a month later, you found yourself packing a bag for a summer getaway at some lake house owned by Trevor’s friend, Jack. Despite your reservations, a part of you was intrigued. What if Trevor was right?

The drive to the lake house had been a blur, punctuated by Trevor’s nonstop chatter and your own uncertain silence. You weren’t opposed to meeting Jack. Trevor had sung his praises for months, claiming you two had more in common than either of you realized. As far as setups went, this wasn’t terrible — you could trust Trevor to have good judgment. But still, you were unsure and slightly uneasy about the whole situation.

When you arrive, Jack is already waiting outside, leaning against the porch rail, hands shoved into the pockets of his shorts. He’s smiling — an easy, laid-back smile that makes you smile back automatically. The sun filters through the trees, casting warm, gold light on the porch, and for a moment, everything feels serene.

Trevor wasn’t lying when he commented about Jack’s appearance. “Some people call him a pretty boy but… I mean he is pretty, but he’s a good-looking dude, y’know?” He was definitely attractive, something anyone could admit you thought, but he wasn’t totally your type.

Trevor bounds up the steps of the porch, dapping up Jack and pulling him in for a hug. You followed, stopping at the bottom of the steps, watching as Trevor whispered something into Jack's ear, Jack’s eyes catching yours as a small smile appeared on his lips.

Jack steps forward, extending a hand. “Hey, you must be y/n. I’ve heard a lot about you,” he says, his voice warm with that relaxed confidence you’d expect from someone who’s used to being the center of attention.

You shake his hand, feeling the easy smile on your face widen a little. “All good things, I hope.”

Trevor laughs, throwing an arm around Jack’s shoulder. “Mostly good things.” He winks at you, and you can’t help but roll your eyes.

Jack offers to give you a quick tour of the place, and you agree, letting him guide you inside while Trevor stays back, grumbling to himself about having to bring in your bags. The inside of the house is as beautiful as the outside, with high ceilings, wooden beams, and floor-to-ceiling windows that overlook the lake. Despite being a new build, it has a cozy, rustic feel to it. Jack pointed out each room as you went, keeping up a steady flow of conversation that put you at ease. He was friendly and thoughtful, making sure you felt welcomed, and it struck you as genuine. You could see why Trevor thought you’d get along with him.

“And this is the back deck,” Jack said as he pushed open a sliding door, revealing a sprawling view of the lake, with a dock stretching out in front of the property. The lake is glittering and relatively calm, aside from a figure disturbing the water. You squint, watching as the swimmer glides smoothly through the lake.

“Who’s that?” you ask Jack, eyes not leaving the figure as you watch him pull himself up onto the wooden dock, pushing dark wet hair from his face.

“That’s Quinn,” Jack says, following your gaze and glancing out toward the dock. “My older brother.”

The sun seems to linger on Quinn’s form, highlighting the toned muscles in his arms as he stretches briefly, rolling his shoulders to ease out any lingering tension from his swim. Droplets of water cling to his skin, catching the sunlight and tracing down his chest in slow, winding trails emphasizing the smooth contours of his muscles as they glisten.

“Q!” Jack shouts, whistling to get his brother’s attention. Quinn’s gaze snaps to the two of you, your pulse quickening as his eyes land on you. “Come up here!”

Quinn grabs his towel from the dock, throwing it over his shoulder as he makes his way up the lawn towards you. As he climbs the steps to the deck, you feel his eyes travel over you, not in a way that feels intimidating, but with a curiosity that mirrors your own. There’s something magnetic about him, something calm and steady that draws you in as he steps up onto the deck, his mouth curving into a small, barely-there smile.

“This is Trevor’s friend, y/n. She’s joining us for the summer” Jack introduces.

As Quinn’s gaze flickers back to you, you notice there’s something about the way he looks at you — subtle, assessing. His gaze has a certain depth, a look you can’t quite decipher. It lingers just a second longer than what feels typical, enough to make your heartbeat skip, to leave you questioning the flicker of interest in his expression.

“Nice to meet you,” Quinn says, his voice low and smooth, a perfect complement to the quiet confidence he exudes. He reaches out to shake your hand, and as your fingers meet, you notice how warm his touch feels, even with the cool water droplets still lingering on his skin.

Up close, he’s even more striking. There’s a sort of ruggedness to him, outlined by the sharpness of his jaw and the intensity of his gaze. His eyes, a greenish shade of blue, hold yours with a calm intensity that makes it hard to look away.

“Nice to meet you too,” you manage, your voice coming out softer than you intended, and you feel heat rise to your cheeks. You mentally kick yourself, hoping he doesn’t notice, but the glimmer in his eyes suggests otherwise.

Jack, oblivious to the undercurrent, clapped his hands, breaking the moment. “Alright, well, there’s more to see, and if we don’t get back, Trevor’s going to start whining about being abandoned,” he joked.

You chuckle, your eyes pulling away from Quinns’ for the first time since he joined you on the porch. But as you turned to follow Jack back inside, you couldn’t help but glance back at Quinn. He was still watching you, his expression softened just slightly, and you felt a quiet thrill at the way he watched you.

The first week at the lakehouse passes in a flurry of days that blur together in laughter and lakeside relaxation. You fall into an easy routine of swimming, grilling, and long talks on the deck. Jack and Trevor keep things lively, always organizing something, whether it’s an impromptu game of cornhole, a daring cliff dive, or a spontaneous trip into town.

With Jack, the connection forms fast. He’s lighthearted, quick with a joke, and endlessly charming. He keeps you laughing and keeps the vibe lighthearted. His energy is infectious, and he keeps you roped into every activity, whether it’s cliff-jumping or getting you to help him with dinner when it’s his turn. You can tell that Trevor’s plan to get the two of you set up is working for Jack, as he lingers closer, laughs harder at your jokes, and you begin to feel his gaze linger on you just a little too long.

But it’s Quinn who holds your attention in a way you hadn’t anticipated.

Quinn is different from Jack in nearly every way. Where Jack is open and quick to draw you into his orbit, Quinn lingers on the edges, observing and listening. When he speaks, it’s with a low, steady voice that commands attention without trying. And unlike Jack’s energy, which feels like the buzz of the sun overhead, Quinn’s is deep and mysterious like the lake.

You find yourself gravitating toward him at every opportunity, captivated by the way he moves through the days with an unruffled calm. The nights at the lake house slip into an easy rhythm, with Quinn and you inevitably being the last ones awake as the both of you are night owls. Most nights, you find yourselves lingering on the porch, wrapped in the gentle hum of crickets and the low whisper of the lake. With the others upstairs, fast asleep, you and Quinn fall into intimate conversations, shared only between the two of you.

One night, you find yourselves tucked away on the porch, the air a little cooler than the other nights. You are curled up on a rocking chair, bundled up in a hoodie you’d borrowed from Jack. Quinn sat across from you, the beer he’d started during dinner going warm in his hand.

Quinn studies you, his eyes catching the faint glow of the porch light as he swirls his bottle absentmindedly. “So,” he begins, breaking the comfortable silence, “What’s California like?” He leans forward, genuinely interested, his voice carrying a warmth that makes you want to spill everything about life on the West Coast.

A soft smile creeps onto your face. “It’s… different from here,” you admit, glancing out at the lake where the moon dances on the still water. “It’s a bit fast-paced. And warm. Lots of sun, lots of people. But sometimes, it feels like everyone’s moving so quickly that you get lost in the crowd.”

Quinn nods, his eyes steady on you. “I get it. I feel the same way about Vancouver sometimes. Coming back here… it just reminds me that there's more than the noise and rush. There’s… balance out here.” He gestures out toward the lake, his voice contemplative. “Like all of this has a way of pulling you back to what matters.”

His words resonate deeply, and you find yourself nodding. “Exactly,” you murmur. “It’s like there’s space to breathe. And you notice things that usually get lost in all the… chaos.”

Quinn’s gaze lingers on you a moment longer, a small smile forming at the corner of his mouth. “I’m glad you came. It’s been… good to have you here,” he says quietly, his eyes soft. “We don’t have other people up here often.”

Your heart pounds a little faster at the sincerity in his voice, and for a second, the rest of the world disappears. There’s only Quinn and the quiet lake, and the feeling that he understands you in a way you hadn't expected anyone to. You hold his gaze, feeling the electricity between you grow, filling the silence with something you can’t quite name.

But then, as if drawn back to reality, Quinn’s eyes shift, his expression subtly changing. “And Jack,” he says, almost as an afterthought. “He… really likes you, you know? He doesn’t say it, but I can tell.”

It feels like a splash of cold water. You break eye contact, pulling your hoodie closer around you, the warmth you felt moments ago dissipating. The weight of Jack’s interest hangs heavily between you and Quinn now, an undeniable reminder of the complicated line you’re toeing.

“Right, yeah…” you reply softly, looking down, your voice tinged with a mix of guilt and frustration. You hadn’t meant for this to get complicated, yet here you are, caught between two brothers who couldn’t be more different.

An uncomfortable silence settles over you both, thick and heavy. Quinn’s eyes linger on you, as if he’s about to say something more, but he holds back. His lips press into a thin line, and you wonder if he’s feeling the same conflict, the same confusion that’s twisting knots inside you.

You force yourself to look away, swallowing hard. “I think… I should probably head to bed,” you murmur, avoiding his gaze. You stand up, offering him a small, tight-lipped smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “Goodnight, Quinn.”

Quinn nods, his expression unreadable as he watches you ebb towards the door. “Goodnight, y/n,” he murmurs, his voice low and steady, though there’s a flicker of something in his gaze — disappointment, perhaps, or longing. You slip inside, leaving him on the porch, the weight of his gaze heavy on your back as you close the door.

In bed, you toss and turn, Quinn’s words and the feel of his gaze lingering with you. Your mind is a whirlwind, caught between the easy, carefree friendship that’s growing with Jack and the simmering tension you feel with Quinn. Jack is perfectly nice and, like Trevor told you, the two of you were getting along swimmingly.

But no matter how much you try, your thoughts always drift back to Quinn. There’s something undeniably different about him, something that makes it impossible to feel the same way about Jack, no matter how hard you try. Jack’s presence is light and friendly but with Quinn… it’s like there’s a hidden gravity pulling you toward him, a quiet understanding that lingers beneath the surface of every conversation. Every night on that porch, he’s become your anchor, drawing you into a world that feels more honest, more intimate.

You lie there, staring up at the ceiling, your mind replaying the way he looked at you tonight — that almost undetectable spark that you’re sure you didn’t imagine. The way he listens to you, like every word matters, as he sees past the small talk and into the parts of you you rarely share. There’s no pretending with Quinn. And even though he’d mentioned Jack, it only made you realize how much more you’re drawn to Quinn. Jack might be developing feelings for you, but it’s Quinn who fills your thoughts, who leaves you breathless in a way you can’t ignore.

You pull the covers tighter around you, willing sleep to take you, but every thought seems to lead back to Quinn, to the way he made you feel seen, understood — even in silence.

The next morning, you do your best to shake off the lingering tension from the night before, determined to keep things light and normal. Under Jack’s enthusiastic suggestion, the group decides to spend the day out on the lake, hoping the sun and water will wash away any unease. It’s a sunny day, warm with a light breeze, and the water sparkles invitingly under the sunlight, making you think that everything might just go smoothly.

The boat is anchored in a calm spot on the lake and, despite the wonderful weather, there doesn’t seem to be another boat around. Trevor and Luke sit up in the bow, arguing about which mascot would win in a fight between Mr. Clean and Tony the Tiger.

Jack is quick to pull you into the action, handing you a beer from the cooler as he grins. “Alright,” he says, his smile as wide as the lake. “Are you ready for the full lake house experience? Because to really do that, you’ve got to jump off the boat at least once today.”

You laugh, shaking your head as you crack open the can. “I’m pretty sure you’re just making up rules to mess with me.”

He shrugs, a playful glint in his eye. “Maybe, but you have to do it anyway,” he shrugs.

Trevor chimes in, chuckling from his spot. “Jack’s right, y/n. First-time lake visitors have to jump. It’s tradition!”

You chuckle, your gaze drifting up to Jack as he stands in front of you. The sun shines directly behind him, casting him in a golden halo, the bright rays spilling around his frame in a way that makes him look almost ethereal. For a moment, you can see why anyone would fall for that charm. But even with this picture-perfect moment, you feel a pang of regret that you can’t feel more for him, because, somehow, your thoughts are pulled elsewhere and on someone else.

Jack’s laughter brings you back to the moment, and he leans a little closer. “Come on, we can make it a team effort. I mean, if you’re too nervous, I can just hold your hand.” His voice is playful, but there’s a hint of sincerity in his words, a hope that you’ll let him bridge the gap he’s trying so hard to close.

Your smile is genuine, but before you can respond, you hear Quinn's low chuckle from behind you. It’s soft, barely audible over the hum of the boat’s motor, but enough to pull your focus completely away from Jack. You glance back at Quinn who’s sat on the back bench, leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, a flicker of something in his gaze as it bears down on the two of you.

Your attention is pulled back to Jack as he reaches for your hand in a gesture that feels both playful and pointed. “Come on, y/n, it’ll be an official initiation. We’ll jump together, yeah?”

Your gaze flickers between Jack’s outstretched hand and Quinn, who’s watching with an inscrutable expression, his eyes narrowed slightly as he leans back, crossing his arms. You can’t deny there’s an awkward tension here, a silent push-and-pull between the two brothers that seems to amplify whenever Quinn is nearby.

Swallowing the strange, charged feeling building between you all, you look back at Jack and nod, forcing a lighthearted smile as you stand up, pulling off the oversized t-shirt you wore as a coverup. You see Jack’s eyes scan your figure, hearing him gasp quietly. You blush, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, taking his hand. He grins in triumph, his fingers warm against yours as he helps you stand at the edge of the boat. He holds on a little tighter than necessary, and the flicker of anticipation in his eyes doesn’t go unnoticed.

“Ready?” Jack asks, his voice softer now, his gaze lingering a bit too long as he watches your expression. There’s a hopeful vulnerability in his face, a look that makes you hesitate for a moment. You don’t want to hurt him, but there’s a part of you that wishes he’d pull back, that he’d realize you’re not as invested in this connection as he is.

You manage a nod, hoping he doesn’t notice the small sigh you let slip. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

He beams, counting down with a quiet “three… two… one!” before the two of you leap into the lake together, the cool water rushing up to meet you. When you surface, you’re greeted by Jack’s laughter as he splashes you, pulling you into a playful water fight. You laugh along, though your eyes instinctively drift toward the boat, where Quinn looks over the edge, watching you both with an unreadable expression.

Jack’s laughter fades slightly as he notices your attention elsewhere, his face falling for a fraction of a second. But he quickly masks it, pulling you back with a light splash. “Hey, stay with me here,” he says, his tone half-joking, half-pleading. And you want to, you really do, but Quinn’s gaze is magnetic, and you can’t help but feel pulled toward him, as if there’s an invisible thread between the two of you.

Eventually, Jack climbs back onto the boat, reaching out to help you up. But the moment you step back on board, the charged silence returns, thick and stifling, as Quinn hands you a towel, his fingers brushing against yours just long enough to send a spark up your arm. You catch his gaze for a brief second, and you’re struck by the quiet intensity in his eyes, a longing that mirrors your own.

Jack clears his throat, his shoulders tensing slightly as he glances between you and Quinn. He lets out a forced laugh, trying to dispel the tension. “Alright, what’s next? We could always do another round of jumps, or maybe a swim to the dock?” He says it with an almost desperate cheerfulness, trying to regain your attention, trying to keep the moment light.

Trevor and Luke, sensing the tension, start bantering about who would be the fastest swimmer, their playful arguments distracting you all for a moment, lightening the mood just enough.

────୨ৎ────

The night air was crisp as laughter and the crackling of the fire filled the space around the lake house. The lake is quiet behind you, a dark, glassy surface reflecting only starlight. You were settled in a lawn chair, leaning back, watching as Trevor dramatically recounted a story about when you nearly crashed his car.

You could feel his eyes on you, searching for a shared smile, hoping to catch your gaze even as he chuckled at Trevor’s theatrics. Every so often, he'd lean in, commenting with a low murmur meant only for you. He’d even offered you his hoodie earlier, though the night wasn’t nearly cold enough to need it. It was endearing, if not a bit overeager. Yet, despite the obvious attention from him, your focus kept drifting across the fire.

Quinn sat across the flames from you, leaning back in an Adirondack chair. His attention was barely on the story, barely laughing with the others as you had been. Every now and then you’d catch his eyes flicker your way, lingering on you just long enough to send a thrill through your chest. Your stomach tightened with a quiet anticipation each time, though as quickly as the moment arrived, it vanished. Quinn’s gaze would shift, his attention lost somewhere in the darkness beyond the flames, leaving you wondering if you’d only imagined it.

As Trevor finally wrapped up his tale with an exaggerated flourish, the group’s laughter rang out again, filling the quiet night. You shifted in your chair, stealing a glance across the fire to see Quinn looking your way again, his expression unreadable in the dancing light. The firelight cast soft shadows over his face, illuminating his quiet intensity—a contrast to Jack’s open interest. And just as quickly as his eyes met yours, he looked away, his focus deliberately elsewhere, leaving you feeling a subtle ache of frustration.

Jack nudged your arm gently, his voice breaking the spell. “Hey, want to grab a drink or something? I think I saw some ciders in the cooler on the porch.”

“Oh, yeah, sure,” you replied, a small smile curving your lips as you pushed yourself up to join him.

You could feel the weight of Quinn’s gaze on you, or maybe it was just wishful thinking. As you walked toward the porch with Jack, a pang of prickling guilt settled over you, leaving a heavy shadow with every step. Jack was wonderful — funny, kind-hearted, and clearly eager to spend time with you. And yet, there was an emptiness in each smile you returned to him, a hollowness you couldn’t ignore. You tried to shake it off, reminding yourself to appreciate his warmth and interest. But you couldn’t deny it. There was no spark, no unspoken gravity that pulled you toward him.

The two of you reached the porch, Jack handing you a cold can from the cooler, his fingers brushing yours briefly. He shot you a quick grin, the kind that seemed to hold a hundred different things he wanted to say. But the look in his eyes—the hopefulness, the eagerness—only tightened the knot in your chest.

Jack took a sip of his drink, leaning casually against the porch railing, his gaze still on you. “It’s nice here at night, isn’t it?” His tone was light, but there was an unmistakable softness to his voice, as though he wanted nothing more than to keep this moment between just the two of you.

“Yeah, it really is,” you agreed, looking out at the lake rather than meeting his eyes. “It’s peaceful.”

Jack’s voice was quieter when he spoke this time like he was mulling something over. “You know, it’s been great having you up here. I mean…I’m glad Z brought you here.” he said softly, though his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. There was a vulnerability there, one that made you want to reassure him, to ease the sting of your own uncertainty.

You wanted to tell him you felt the same, that you were excited, that his attention filled you with butterflies. But it didn’t. Not the way Quinn’s lingering gaze did, not in the way his silence could reach across the fire and wrap around you more tightly than any words Jack could offer.

And Jack could sense it. You could see it in the way his gaze fell just a bit, in the way he seemed to retreat into himself, trying to figure out where he’d lost you. A soft, sinking guilt bubbled up, but before you could say anything, he cleared his throat and looked at you, trying to keep the mood light.

“Should we head back?” he asked, giving you a small smile that tried to mask the disappointment behind his eyes.

You nodded, and as you followed him back toward the fire, your eyes drifted back to Quinn. Why did he have to make it so complicated? Jack was there, warm and steady, giving you his full attention, yet your heart kept tugging you toward Quinn — Quinn, who never gave you more than half-glances and unspoken hints. It was as though he knew the effect he had on you but chose to keep you guessing, leaving you in this restless, uncertain state. And every time he looked away, your chest would ache with a longing that you couldn’t shake, no matter how hard you tried.

You felt like you were making it up in your head. You felt like all of this was just concocted by your brain, a made-up situation. But then you’d think back to the nights when it was just the two of you, sitting across from one another on the porch, finding bits of commonality, causing you to talk for hours.

It was during those quiet nights, with only the soft hum of the lake and the occasional call of night birds, that the two of you would sit just a little closer, voices lowered as if sharing secrets with the stars. He’d be calm, reserved, but there’d always be a hint of a smile when you teased him about his stoic nature, a glint in his eyes when he’d challenge you back. It was in these moments that your doubts faded, that all the confusion seemed worth it.

But then the sun would rise again, and Quinn’s indifference would come back like the morning mist, blanketing any closeness you thought you’d found. The spark that seemed so real under the cover of night would dim, replaced by his guarded demeanor and quiet aloofness. It was maddening, this cycle of near-closeness followed by a cool retreat. He’d show you just enough to make you wonder, to keep you holding onto the memory of his quiet smile and that soft look in his eyes.

As you and Jack rejoined the group, you settled back into your chair, glancing across the fire toward Quinn once more. He was looking down, a hand idly fiddling with the edge of his sweater. There was something vulnerable about him in that moment, something that made you wonder if maybe—just maybe—he felt the same hesitation and uncertainty. You wanted to bridge that gap, to ask him if he ever felt the same tug, the same strange pull that made every shared glance linger in your mind.

But before you could even entertain the idea, Jack’s hand brushed your shoulder, pulling your attention back to him. He was smiling, his gaze as steady and warm as ever, making you wish you could return it with the same openness.

“Hey, you okay?” Jack asked, concern lacing his voice. You hadn’t realized the way you were chewing on your lip, or the way your brow was furrowed ever so slightly.

You nodded, giving him a soft smile that you hoped looked genuine. “Yeah, just…lost in thought, I guess.”

But as you said it, your gaze slipped across the fire once more, finding Quinn’s eyes fixed on you with that familiar, unreadable intensity. And for a fleeting second, you thought you saw a softness there, a hint of something deeper. It vanished just as quickly, but that one look was enough. It was enough to make you cast away the doubt that lingered in your mind, to dismiss the thought that this was all in your head.

The night dragged on, punctuated by laughter and more ridiculous storytelling from Trevor. Gradually, one by one, everyone began to call it a night. Luke was the first to slip away, yawning as he muttered something about wanting to have an early workout, clapping Trevor on the shoulder before heading inside. Trevor followed soon after, stretching with exaggerated laziness before flashing a grin and winking at you. “Don’t get into too much trouble out here,” he teased, earning a playful eye-roll from you.

Finally, it was just you, Jack, and Quinn. Jack was lingering, his eyes occasionally drifting to you with a look that hinted at something he wanted to say but couldn’t quite bring himself to voice. He shifted in his seat, clearing his throat as he looked at you, then glanced over at Quinn.

"Alright, I guess I’ll head in, too," Jack finally said, his tone reluctant. His gaze lingered on you for just a beat too long, as though he wanted you to ask him to stay or tell him that you would head up with him. But you didn’t, and after a quiet sigh, he nodded, gave Quinn a brief glance, then turned and headed inside, the screen door shutting softly behind him.

And then it was just the two of you.

The quiet stretched between you and Quinn, thick and tense, as the night air settled into a stillness that seemed to wrap around you both. The only sounds were the crackling of the fire and the soft rustle of the trees, and it was painfully quiet, each unspoken word between you two heavy with meaning. You could feel his presence, magnetic and steady, even across the fire. Finally, after a moment that felt like an eternity, you drew a deep breath and decided to speak.

“Quinn, can we talk?” Your voice was steady, but just barely. Quinn’s eyes finally locked with yours for the first time since before everyone began to filter to bed. Quinn nodded after a couple of seconds, giving you the silence to continue.

��I don’t know what’s going on between us,” you said softly. “But… fuck, I can’t stop thinking about you, and it’s driving me crazy. I need to know if it’s all just in my head or if you feel it too. Because if there’s a reason I feel this way… I need to know.”

You trailed off, heart hammering against your ribcage as the words hung in the air between you. For a moment, he didn’t respond, his expression unreadable, his face softened by the glow of the firelight. Then, with a sigh, he leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees as he stared into the flames. His silence was torture, each passing second pulling you deeper into a pit of anxiety and frustration.

When he finally spoke, his voice was low and steady, as if he’d rehearsed this response in his mind countless times. “It’s not in your head,” he admitted, his gaze flickering up to meet yours. “There’s something here, between us. I feel it too.”

The words sent a rush of relief and hope through you, a spark that reignited all those moments spent wondering and waiting for some kind of sign. A soft smile spread across your face, the edges of your doubt finally beginning to soften. But then, his expression shifted, the corners of his mouth tightening as he looked away, eyes fixed on the shadows just beyond the firelight.

“But…” His voice was barely a whisper, rough around the edges. “It can’t go anywhere. Not with Jack. He’s…he’s into you.” He looked back at you, the regret in his eyes evident, a pain mirrored in your own chest. “I can’t do that to him.”

His words were like a punch to the gut, and the warmth of the fire suddenly felt distant, fading into a cold, empty ache spreading through your chest. You hadn’t expected it to hurt this much, hadn’t realized how much you’d been hoping he’d say the opposite, that he’d fight for whatever was happening between you.

You dropped your gaze, feeling foolish, vulnerable, exposed. “So that’s it? We just… pretend this doesn’t exist?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “Like nothing’s been happening all this time?”

Quinn’s jaw tightened, and he looked away, his expression pained. “I don’t want to pretend. But I can’t… I won’t hurt him, not like that. He’s my brother.” He hesitated, his voice cracking slightly. “And he really cares about you.”

You swallowed hard. It felt ridiculous—being here, feeling so foolishly hopeful, only to be left with a hollow ache and a fractured connection that couldn’t ever be more. Part of you wanted to yell at him for leading you on, for those late-night conversations and stolen glances, for every unspoken word that now felt like a cruel joke.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I wish it could be different.”

The words left you hollow. Part of you wanted to fight, to tell him that what you felt couldn’t just be ignored, but another part — the part that knew him and understood his loyalty — couldn’t bring yourself to ask him to choose you over his brother. Not when you saw the conflict in his eyes, the pain that mirrored your own.

“Fine,” you whispered, barely able to meet his gaze. You stood up, the cool night air prickling your skin as you walked away from the fire, leaving him there in silence. You didn’t look back. It felt like your chest was filled with broken glass, each breath painful, as you made your way back to the house.

Inside, the stillness was almost suffocating. The others had already gone to bed, and the darkened living room felt cold and empty, mirroring the ache in your heart. You climbed the stairs to your room, shutting the door softly behind you as you sank onto the edge of the bed, staring blankly at the wall. A mix of anger and sadness filled you. You were mad at Quinn, for drawing you in only to push you away; mad at Jack, for being in the way even if he hadn’t meant to be; mad at Trevor, for ever convincing you to come here; and, perhaps most of all, mad at yourself, for letting your heart hope for something that could never be.

The next morning, a heavy quiet blanketed the lake house. You moved through the motions of breakfast with the others, but your thoughts felt distant, lost somewhere between the memories of last night and the weight of Quinn’s words. The morning was made slightly easier by the absence of Quinn who you were told went into the town early that morning to run errands and hit the gym. The guys bantered and talked about heading out on the boat, planning an afternoon on the lake, but you could only muster half-hearted nods and polite smiles. It was hard to focus, every small sound—the clinking of mugs, the soft scrape of a chair—only intensifying the ache you couldn’t shake.

Excusing yourself, you slipped away before anyone could ask questions, making your way down to the dock. The air was cool, a gentle breeze rippling across the lake's surface, and you sat at the edge, feet dangling above the water. You were still in your sleep outfit, not exactly pyjamas, but rather a comfy oversized hoodie and a pair of mens boxers. The familiar scent of pine and fresh earth surrounded you, but even the peaceful view couldn’t ease the storm of emotions inside.

The quiet was soon broken by the sound of footsteps approaching, and you didn’t need to look to know it was Jack. You felt him sit beside you, his presence warm and grounding. For a moment, he didn’t say anything — just let the silence settle between you both, as though he was waiting for you to be ready.

Finally, he cleared his throat, glancing sideways at you. “You okay this morning? You’ve been… quiet,” he said softly, his voice tentative, as if he were stepping carefully around broken glass. “Distant.”

You swallowed, bracing yourself as you met his gaze. His eyes were filled with genuine concern, a softness that only made this harder. “Yeah,” you murmured, looking back out at the lake. “Guess I just needed some space.”

Jack nodded, though he didn’t seem convinced. His fingers drummed nervously on the edge of the dock, and after a beat, he spoke again, his tone thoughtful, almost nostalgic.

“You know,” he began, eyes cast down at the water, “when Trevor told me he was bringing a friend this summer, he was so sure we’d hit it off. He kept going on about how you and I would be perfect for each other, that we’d get along great.” A small smile pulled at the corner of his mouth. “I remember feeling this weird, excited energy like… maybe he was right, you know? Maybe I was going to meet someone special.”

You felt a lump forming in your throat as he continued, his voice carrying a warmth that was both comforting and deeply bittersweet.

“And when you got here…” He hesitated, his eyes meeting yours, as if to gauge your reaction. “I don’t know, it just… felt easy, from the start. Like we’d known each other forever. I started to feel like maybe Trevor had been onto something.” He gave a soft laugh, but there was no humor in it, just the weight of unspoken feelings.

“Things felt really good between us, and I thought you felt it too,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “So I started to get my hopes up—thinking maybe this was the start of something real.”

You winced, guilt gnawing at you. “Jack… I’m so sorry,” you said, your voice shaky. “I didn’t mean to lead you on, truly. I think you’re amazing. From the bottom of my heart, I just… I mean there’s gotta be some sort of spell this fucking house puts me under because I would be insane otherwise to not like you! You… you’re so perfect that any other girl would be scremaing at me, trying to claw my eyes out for not appreciating you. But… I just can’t. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

Jack’s eyes softened, a mix of sadness and resignation settling in them. He looked down, his fingers still drumming but more slowly now, as if grounding himself. After a moment, he took a deep breath and let it out, his shoulders sagging slightly.

“I get it,” he murmured, though his voice had an unmistakable crack in it. “I mean… I think I get it. You can’t force something that isn’t there, right?” He gave a sad smile, one that tried to mask the hurt but didn’t quite succeed.

He stared out at the water, his expression distant, like he was trying to piece together what had gone wrong, or maybe just what he’d missed. A tense silence settled between you, the weight of everything unsaid pressing down on the air around you. Jack cleared his throat, seeming to steel himself, his gaze searching your face as if looking for an answer to a question he hadn’t yet asked.

“Can I… can I just ask you one thing?” he said, voice barely above a whisper. His vulnerability in that moment was palpable, and you could feel your heart pounding, bracing yourself for what was coming.

You nodded, feeling your throat tighten.

“Do you… have feelings for Quinn?”

The words hung in the air, heavy and painful, and a part of you wished he hadn’t asked. But the look in his eyes told you he needed to know, that the uncertainty was gnawing at him just as much as the truth might.

Slowly, you nodded, a tear slipping down your cheek as you whispered, “Yes.”

A heavy silence fell between you, and Jack seemed to shrink a little, his shoulders slumping as he took it in. Jack’s gaze fixed on the lake, and for a long moment, he said nothing. You could see the effort it took for him to keep his expression neutral, to keep his emotions tightly bound. His voice was quiet when he finally spoke.

“So, you… you and Quinn. Is there… anything actually happening between you two?” He glanced at you, a flicker of something raw in his eyes — hope, maybe, or just the need to understand.

You shook your head, offering a small, bittersweet smile. “No, Jack. We’re… we’re not together. We won’t be.”

He looked at you, brow furrowed. “Why not?” he asked softly, his confusion obvious. “If you feel that way about him, why wouldn’t you try?”

You took a shaky breath, the words catching in your throat. “Because Quinn… Quinn’s too good of a brother. He’d never go for me because of you… and because of what he knows you feel.”

Jack blinked, his brow furrowing as he took in your words. “Wait—what does that mean? Because of me?” he asked, his voice laced with confusion. His gaze softened, and you could see he was fighting to keep his tone steady, like he was trying not to hope.

You sighed, feeling a bittersweet ache settle in your chest. “Quinn told me he could never be with me because he knows how you feel. He doesn’t want to hurt you, Jack.”

Jack’s jaw clenched, a flicker of frustration flashing across his face. “So… let me get this straight,” he muttered, almost incredulously. “He’s not doing anything about how he feels—because of me?”

You nodded, and Jack fell silent, staring down at his hands, which had stopped drumming and were now clenched tightly in his lap. He seemed deep in thought, his brows furrowed as he processed what you’d just told him. The lake was quiet around you, the stillness broken only by the occasional ripple of water.

For a long time, Jack didn't say anything, just stared down at the water, his brows drawn together. You could almost feel the weight of his thoughts, the way he was wrestling with everything that had just been laid out. When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet, raw.

“So he… he cares enough to stay away,” Jack said slowly, the words laced with a sadness that felt almost like admiration. “That's… just like him.” He took a deep breath, forcing a small, sad smile. “I wish things were different. I wish we could just rewind, go back to the start of summer and… and pretend this never happened.”

You swallowed hard, his words striking a chord deep within you. “Me too,” you whispered, eyes burning with unshed tears. “I never wanted any of this to happen, Jack. The last thing I wanted was to hurt you.”

Jack looked over at you, his expression softening, and for a moment, you saw a flicker of the easy, unburdened friendship you’d had in the beginning. “I know,” he murmured. “You’re not the kind of person who’d do this on purpose. It’s just… life, I guess. It’s complicated, ‘n messy as hell. And… maybe Trevor was right. We do get along. Just… maybe not in the way he thought we would.”

He smiled, a genuine one this time, though tinged with a sadness he couldn’t hide. “Maybe someday… I won’t feel this way,” he said quietly, his voice barely audible above the soft lapping of the lake against the dock. “But for now… I think I just need a little space. Time, maybe.”

You nodded, understanding that this was what he needed, even if it hurt to hear. “I get it, Jack. I do.”

Jack gave a nod, his gaze returning to the water, the weight of unspoken words settling over the two of you. In the next moment, he reached over and gave your hand a small squeeze—a quiet truce, an understanding. Then he stood, brushing off his shorts and glancing back at the house.

“I’ll be up at the house for a bit,” he murmured, the distance in his tone unmistakable. With that, he turned and walked back up the dock, his footsteps slow and heavy.

In the following days, there was a noticeable shift in the air; everyone felt it, though no one dared to name it. Conversations were stilted, laughter felt forced, and even the once-lively dinners had become quiet affairs, each of you treading carefully as if one wrong word might shatter the fragile peace that held you all together. Jack avoided you and Quinn as much as he could, lingering at the edge of group activities, his usual easygoing energy replaced by something more closed off, guarded.

Quinn, for his part, kept his distance too, his usual calm presence clouded by an unspoken tension. It was as if he knew that the delicate line he was walking might snap at any moment, sending everything spiraling out of control.

You couldn't ignore the heaviness that had settled over the house, a tangible sense of tension that made everything feel off-kilter. As much as you'd wanted this summer to be an escape, it had become the very opposite — a painful reminder of all the ways things could go wrong.

That evening, after everyone had gone to bed, you found yourself wide awake, thoughts racing. The decision took shape slowly, a reluctant resolve that you couldn’t shake. You needed to leave. Staying here, caught between the fractured pieces of what had been and what could never be, was too much to bear. The thought of facing both brothers day after day, watching Jack’s guarded smiles and Quinn’s restrained distance—it was too much. They deserved space, and, you realized, so did you.

With a deep breath, you grabbed your phone and booked a flight out for two days later, the earliest you could manage. You barely slept, running through potential conversations in your mind, eventually deciding you were only going to tell Trevor and slip out quietly, not wanting to cause anymore issues.

You forced yourself to push through the pain and awkwardness during the two remaining days until you would be returning back to California. As the days inched closer to your departure, the weight of unspoken words grew heavier, settling into every corner of the lake house. You caught glimpses of Jack, his face turning away when he thought no one was watching as if even looking at you and Quinn felt like reopening an unhealed wound. Quinn’s glances were no less fraught, though his were filled with a wistful restraint, as if he was already mourning the loss of something that had barely even begun.

The dinners, once filled with laughter, now passed in subdued tones, each person more focused on their plate than the conversation. You found yourself counting down the days and hours, conflicted between the need to escape the tension and the ache of leaving it all behind. In those last two days, you kept reminding yourself that soon, you’d be on a plane back to California, back to your own life — away from Jack’s pained looks and Quinn’s longing stares.

Your final day there, you packed your belongs up quickly, hoping Trevor would buy your excuse of not wanting to miss your flight as a good reason for him to take you to the airport early, and not because you couldn’t bear to spend one more hour in this suffocating oasis. Everyone else was lounging by the water, with the exception of Jack who lingered in the kitchen, opting to do the dishes rather than be around the others. He was lost in thought when he heard the patio door slide open and shut, the sound of bare feet padding against the hardwood. He turned to the entrance of the kitchen, seeing Quinn wearing his boardshorts and a slightly guarded look.

Quinn stopped at the threshold, eyes flicking briefly to Jack’s hands as he scrubbed the dishes. They were tense, knuckles white around the plate he held, and the silence between them was palpable and heavy. Jack set down the dish with a clatter, bracing himself on the edge of the sink, not looking at Quinn. Jack didn’t give Quinn time to speak. The words erupted from him, fueled by everything he’d been holding back.

“Do you even understand what you’re doing?” Jack’s voice was low and seething, barely contained. He didn’t wait for an answer, didn’t dare let Quinn get a word in. “You’re hurting her, Quinn. A perfectly nice girl, who came here not looking for this mess but got dragged into it anyway. And the worst part is, you know it. You know it, and you’re still just… sitting back like a damn martyr, thinking that by staying distant, you’re somehow making it easier for everyone. That by holding back, you’re sparing her, sparing me.”

Jack’s words cut through the quiet, sharper than the silence that had settled in the house over the past days. The vulnerability in his tone was raw, scraping against Quinn’s stoic expression. Quinn shifted uncomfortably but didn’t interrupt; he only looked at Jack, his gaze unwavering.

“And you know what? I kind of hate you for it,” Jack continued, voice unsteady. He turned his head just enough for Quinn to catch the anger, the hurt in his eyes. “I hate that you waltzed in and just took her from me without even trying. And, yeah, maybe that’s selfish. Maybe I never really had a chance, but she was still there, and I was trying. I was there, damn it!”

Quinn finally took a step forward, but Jack cut him off again, his hands clenching at the counter. “And I hate you for pretending like you’re doing the right thing by telling her nothing will happen. You act like you’re some noble saint by ‘staying away,’ but it’s a lie, Quinn. It’s a lie, and we both know it. You’re holding back because you’re scared — scared to go after what you really want, and in the end, you’re just making it worse for everyone. For her. For me.”

Jack’s voice wavered, then cracked, as he finally fell silent, chest heaving from the force of his confession. The words had cost him, as if each syllable had drawn blood. The only sound in the room was the dripping of the faucet, each drop amplifying the tension between them.

Quinn stayed quiet for a long moment, his gaze steady as he absorbed every word. He studied Jack, weighing something unspoken. “Would you hate me if I went for her, then?” His tone was gentle, almost hesitant, a softness that Jack hadn’t been prepared for.

Jack’s jaw tightened. “Yeah,” he admitted. “I probably would.” He ran a hand through his hair, a bitter laugh escaping him. “I mean I hate you right now for making her feel the way she does. But it shouldn’t matter, Quinn. Not if you two… if you actually care about each other.” Jack’s voice faltered, breaking under the weight of his own honesty. “Look, I’ll get over it. In time. But don’t waste what could be something good just because you’re trying to spare everyone. It’s pointless, and it’s selfish. You need to get to her before it’s too late.”

Quinn could feel Jack’s anger and pain, an emotion so raw and tangled it clawed at the air between them. For a second, Quinn thought of how different things could have been if he had stayed on the sidelines, if he hadn’t let himself get close to you. But as Jack’s gaze softened, an odd understanding settled between them. Jack wasn’t letting go easily, but he was letting go.

Jack’s shoulders slumped, exhausted, as he ran a hand over his face. “She’s leaving today, you know?” he said to Quinn, a look of surprise appearing on his face. “Trev told me last night she booked her flight out for this afternoon.”

Quinn’s face fell, and the guarded look faded, replaced with something dangerously close to panic. He hadn’t known—hadn’t expected that this was it. That today was the end.

“She’s leaving?” Quinn asked, Jack nodding. “Why didn’t she say anything? W-why is she leaving?”

“Because why would she stay?” Jack said. “She’s going to protect herself. She’s not gonna stay here, hoping for something that won’t happen. She’s too smart for that.”

The realization struck Quinn like a punch to the gut, leaving him breathless. Jack's words echoed in his mind, each one sharper than the last. She’s leaving. Of course, she would. She wasn’t the type to hang around hoping for some half-hearted promise or for Quinn to finally decide what he wanted. She deserved so much more than waiting for him to get his act together.

Jack's voice softened, pulling him back to the present. "Quinn, it’s not too late. She hasn’t left yet. If you really care about her, don’t let her go like this."

Quinn’s gaze faltered, a flicker of something vulnerable crossing his expression. Could he really undo the damage he’d done by staying away? Could he find the words to convince her that, despite his silence, he’d felt everything just as deeply as she had?

A heavy silence followed before Quinn found his voice. “What… what should I say to her?”

Jack shook his head, a bitter laugh escaping him. “You really think I’m giving you advice on how to get the girl I wanted?”

Quinn’s face softened in a rare, grateful smile. “Fair enough.” He hesitated, then turned, steeling himself as he left the kitchen, leaving Jack to his own fractured thoughts.

Quinn climbed the stairs two at a time, his pulse racing with every step, anticipation and fear warring within him. As he reached the top, he saw Trevor just exiting your room. Trevor paused, giving Quinn a look that held no small amount of concern.

“I don’t know what went down between you three,” Trevor said, his voice uncharacteristically serious. “But I care about her, and I don’t like seeing her like this. You going to fix whatever mess this is?”

Quinn’s chest tightened. He knew Trevor had been close to you, learning this summer just how much of a big brother figure he was to you. He couldn’t fault him for looking out for you.

“I’m going to fix it,” Quinn said, his voice quiet but firm. He met Trevor’s gaze, hoping to communicate the sincerity in his words. “I have to.”

Trevor didn’t say anything else, but he gave Quinn a long, steady look, as though weighing whether to believe him. Then he gave a nod and shifted your duffle bag, stepping aside to let Quinn pass. With a final glance at Trevor, Quinn walked to your door, his heart racing. Quinn stood outside your door for a moment, his hand hovering above the doorknob. He knew what he needed to say, but a part of him feared that the damage was already done. Bracing himself, he knocked gently before pushing the door open.

You were standing by the window, your zipped duffle bag sitting on your bed. Your back was to the door when Quinn entered, and for a moment, he almost turned around, the words caught in his throat. But then you turned, your eyes meeting his.

“Are you really going?” Quinn asked, his voice quiet and strained.

You nodded, stepping away from the window and closer to Quinn. “I think it’s best. This whole summer has just… it’s too much, Quinn. I didn’t come here expecting any of this, and now I just feel… caught. And I can’t keep feeling this way.”

Quinn swallowed, his gaze never leaving yours. He looked as though he was battling something heavy, words lingering on his lips, waiting to escape. He stepped forward, close enough that you could see the faint circles under his eyes, the fatigue that seemed to pull at his features.

“I didn’t expect any of this either,” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper. “And I get it — you’re right. I hurt you. I know that. I thought… I thought if I kept my distance, it would somehow make it easier for everyone. That maybe you'd move on from this — move on from me, and be with Jack. I thought it would hurt less.”

You held his gaze, your voice low but unwavering. “Do you have any idea what that did to me, Quinn? All summer, feeling this… this connection between us, and thinking that I had to be imagining it because you couldn’t even look at me. And you’re saying you did that on purpose? To protect me?” Your voice trembled. “That’s not protecting me. That’s running away.”

Quinn took a shaky breath, stepping closer, his expression taut with regret. “I know I messed up. I was spineless and I should have told you the truth sooner.” Quinn said, bowing his head briefly before forcing himself to look up at your hurt eyes. “I told myself that it was better this way, but all I was doing was lying to myself. Because every time I saw you… every time I heard your laugh, or watched you talk to Jack, or caught you looking at me — I couldn’t breathe.”

Quinn took one last step forward, less than a foot away from you. He raised his hand to reach you, fingertips grazing your arm gently, as if he feared you might pull away. “But I care about you, more than I thought possible. And I was afraid of that. Afraid of hurting Jack, afraid of hurting you… and afraid of wanting you this much.” He swallowed, his voice growing rough. “But I can’t let you leave without knowing how I feel. I want to be with you I — I need to be with you.”

Your breath hitched, the confession settling over you like a warm, crushing weight. This was what you’d wanted, but it also brought a whirlwind of conflicting emotions crashing down. You took a small step back, just enough to put some distance between you, needing space to gather your thoughts.

Quinn was saying everything you wanted to hear from the beginning. Laying his feelings bare, and exposing his heart in a way you hadn't expected from someone as reserved as him. It was like seeing a hidden part of him, one he’d kept carefully guarded. The vulnerability in his eyes made it clear that this was as terrifying for him as it was thrilling for you.

But in the back of your mind, Jack lingered, his hurt and disappointment woven into every stolen glance and quiet moment of the summer. The image of his face as he realized how you felt about Quinn was something you couldn’t shake. The memory clawed at you, guilt mixing with the longing Quinn’s words evoked.

“You have no idea how much I’ve wanted to hear that,” you said, voice catching. “But Quinn… Jack — he tried so hard with me this summer, and I couldn’t give him what he wanted because of… well, because of you.” You hesitated, torn between the longing in Quinn’s eyes and the memory of Jack’s earnest, hopeful glances. “The last thing I wanted was to hurt him. And I feel like I’ve done enough damage by just… being here.”

Quinn’s gaze softened, his hand lingering just above your arm, hovering close as if he wasn’t ready to let you go. “I know,” he murmured. “I know it’s complicated. But I talked to Jack this morning. He told me… he told me to come up here and talk to you. To tell you how I felt. He wants you to be happy, and he knows that’s not with him. He’ll get over it.”

“Jack said that?” you whispered, barely able to believe it.

Quinn nodded, a slight smile tugging at his lips, though there was sadness in his eyes. “He might hate me for a while, and I can live with that. But he said I’d regret it if I let you go. And… he was right.”

His hand, warm and steady, traced down your arm, his fingers slipping around yours with a gentle firmness. The touch, gentle but insistent, sent a jolt through you. “I know I’ve messed up,” he murmured, voice barely a whisper. “But if you’ll let me, I’ll make it right. I want this, us… if you do too.”

You nodded, words escaping you as Quinn stepped even closer, his free hand lifting to gently cup your face. His thumb brushed against your cheek, and you could feel the slight tremor in his touch. He leaned in slowly, giving you every chance to pull away, but you didn’t.

His lips barely brushed yours, soft and tentative. Your breath mingled together briefly before your lips locked together. He lingered for a heartbeat, savoring the closeness as if he, too, couldn’t believe this was real. Then, with a surge of emotion, the kiss deepened, all the restraint and hesitation of the summer dissolving as his hand rose to cradle your cheek, holding you to him as though afraid you might disappear.

His stubble that had grown out over the last couple weeks of summer scraped along your jaw and chin, leaving a faint burn that only added to the rush of sensation.

When you pulled back, both of you breathless, he rested his forehead against yours, a soft smile playing at the corners of his lips. “I’ve wanted to do that since the day you got here,” he murmured, a hint of relief in his voice.

You giggled, staying close and feeling his heartbeat echoing against yours. The silence that followed was thick, but it was different now — no longer tense or uncertain like it had been for most of the summer. It felt as though the weight had been lifted from both of your shoulders.

But even in that moment, you knew the reality of what this would mean—for Jack, for Quinn, and for yourself. There was a part of you that still ached, remembering Jack’s quiet disappointment and knowing it would take time to heal the wounds this summer had left behind.

You swallowed hard, raising a hand to Quinns face and brushing aside his dark locks that fell over his eyes. “I still think I need to go,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “Not because I don’t want this. I do. But I think both of you need time, and maybe I do too. To let everything settle.”

Quinn nodded, understanding settling over his expression. “I get it,” he replied, taking your hand in his and giving your palm a soft kiss. “I’ll be here when you’re ready. Take all the time you need.”

Quinn let you slip from his arms, his heart squeezing as he watched you grab your bag and exit the room. As you descended the stairs with your duffle bag slung over your shoulder, you saw Jack waiting near the door. His expression softened as you approached, a bittersweet smile crossing his face.

“So, this is it?” he asked, his voice gentle but with an undercurrent of acceptance.

You nodded. “Yeah, I think it’s best. Thank you, Jack. For understanding. And… for everything.”

Jack gave a short nod, his gaze momentarily flickering towards the stairs where Quinn had stopped to watch from a distance. He returned his gaze to you and managed a small, sincere smile. “Go live your life. I wish you and Quinn all the best.”

You hugged him, both of you holding on just a second longer than necessary. When you pulled back, you could see the mix of emotions in his eyes, but there was a sense of peace there too. He’d let go, not because it didn’t hurt, but because he genuinely wanted you to be happy. You felt your heart swell, gratitude mixing with the faint sting of regret for the friendship that would never quite be the same. But Jack’s words lifted the weight off your shoulders, letting you and Quinn move forward.

With a final look, you stepped outside, Trevor waiting to drive you to the airport, his brow furrowed in confusion at the way you suddenly had pep in your step, a small smile present on your lips that had been missing for weeks. As the car pulled away, you stole one last glance at the lake house, catching a glimpse of Quinn watching you from the porch. He raised a hand in a small wave, and you returned it, a soft smile on your lips.

This summer hadn’t turned out anything like you’d expected.

[iggy-gotthisaccountunderduress]

This is the best history lesson I've ever read in my whole life thank you thank you thank you. my favourite highlights:

in true Chaotic Sibling Fashion

and thus PIRACYYYYYYY yo ho ho ho and a bottle of rum for meeeee

GET YOUR TOASTY BAGUETTES AWAY FROM MY LAND

*plays the jealous girlfriend card*

Takes a Long Time For anyone to Listen to them Because Why Would They Rebellion is a stupid idea

things were bound to get...very wonky

The Toxic relationship between America and England As Told by Me Which Will Have Many Questionable Oversimplifications Due To the Lack of Time I Currently Have Before My Last Final Paper For A Different Class is Due: a story told by me. Tagging @igotthisaccountunderduress bc she asked for this specifically and now must suffer the consequences

Source: My history notes and a chat where I have infodumped all this to my best friend who has somehow still put up with all of my ramblings. If people would like I can and will make a series out of this with more actual research because Damn History is so much more interesting when it's not for the grade and stress and finals (like I love the tea, love the reciepts, but to memorize all of it on top of other things? *stress ensues*

((Under cut))

There was a war. There have been many wars. But during this period of like literally forever ago England, Spain, and France really just couldn't stop bickering at each other like siblings. This became more problematic when Spain started getting Colonies in this New World after the whole Christopher Columbus shenanigans (Fun fact: Isabel and Ferdinand really only sponsored like 20% or 30% of Columbus' original costs; Columbus still had to like find the other major chunk of it through sponsorships and donations). But anyway Columbus Task Failed Successfully and discovers Not India/Spice Islands but ~a whole new world~ (so many more shenanigans with that Columbus had to straight up lie to his crew multiple times to stop mutinies from happening I want to read his diaries at some point bc the more things I hear the more intrigued I get). But anyway Spain gets a lot of shiny new income in plenty of resources, spices, diseases, tomatoes, chocolate, etc.

England and France get jealous. France is like "omg I want some" and they go to Not The Spice Islands via the fabled "Northwest Passage" and get to canada and make bank off fur trading. England however in true Chaotic Sibling Fashion originally goes "why would I need to go over to America when I can just steal from France and Spain"

and thus PIRACYYYYYYY yo ho ho ho and a bottle of rum for meeeee

Spain and France are (unsurprisingly) Not Cool with this whole "sharing is caring" attitude of England and again more wars start. England in the meantime decides it wants to get its stuff together and allows the prototypes of corporations called Joint Stock Companies (basically a bunch of people would share the risks and the reward of running a business) that lead to the Virginia Colony. There were also people who were cashing in royal debts in exchange for land in the new world (the Calverts who started Maryland who wanted to Bring Back The Feudal system and that went so well for them *cough cough*/sarcasm) and a bunch of people who wanted to ability to Practice Their Religion Better than Other People (there was religious persecution when Queen Elizabeth was reigning during the Great Migration of people to America but from my understanding it was more like she didn't care what you did if you were loyal to England but also that is literally only from my professor and I have heard conflicting stories with other professors soooooo take this with a heavy grain of salt).

Anyway now with income coming in from the Americas both Spain and France and England are doing relatively well for themselves. And then guess what happens. Ah yes, more jealous and fighting. In this case, it's over the Ohio Valley Area because both countries wanted to expand their holdings in the new World. Basically this area touched Canada and France is like "C’est à moi" and England's like "GET YOUR TOASTY BAGUETTES AWAY FROM MY LAND" This leads to what we call here the French and Indian War (also called the Seven Years War in Europe I think, a lot of wars have American Names vs European names). Despite being called "The French and Indian War" here, it was fought by England and their Indian Allies and French and their Indian allies. England wins but at what cost?

The cost is money. It's always money. Now everyone has super heavy debt as a sum of like four(five?) wars that are fought in this period of time. England is now trying to raise funds to help get themselves out of the mess they put themselves into. Their solution: make America Pay Rent. Kind of a "we fought this war for *you* actually now give us money for it.

Note: they were only trying to raise part of the money for it via Direct Taxes which are taxes added on top of the price (which btdubs they were paying taxes to England already they were pay just English Version of Taxes which are built into the price so you don't know how much if it is taxes. They were fine with that. They just didn't want extra taxes. So this made them reevaluate their whole relationship with England. It didn't also help that England was starting to revoke some of the major perks like support past the appalachian mountain range, and among other things).

this tulmultuous period can be summed up with (an overgeneralization):

England: *tries to control America over much by being like 'you have to pay taxes on this this and this*

America: fine *just doesn't buy anything from England period until England recants and is like fine you don't have to pay this tax*

England: *plays the jealous girlfriend card* "you can only trade with England!!! No one else!!!

America, the two-timer: *increases smuggling* Also radical terrorists//the sons of liberty start crying for independence (Takes a Long Time For anyone to Listen to them Because Why Would They Rebellion is a stupid idea)

The East India Company thing was such a whole thing that kinda highlights this to an extreme. East India Company was part of the joint stock company that was about to go under because they had taken loans from like literally almost every bank in England. Which if they failed would be REALLY bad news for England. So in an attempt to lower cost, England told East India company that they could bring their tea from india to America directly instead of having to go through british ports as was custom. America took one look at the now So much Cheaper Tea and was like "mmmm sus" and didn't buy it in favor of dutch tea so RIP east India Company. Also Terrorist Group from before burned several of the ships while being disguised as Indians (no one was buying it) and that's what we call the boston tea party. England shut down Boston as they should and basically war ideas were spreading really quickly through new england and further onward (south was less so but they came around).

Anyway. I realize this comes off as very-anti American and it's really not meant to be, both countries were really annoying to each other throughout this whole process. But yeh then theirs gunshots and a declaration of independence and then we barely win by the skin of our teeth (that's mainly bc british merchants were like stop this we can't make money if you're fighting with our best customers at the end) and things get only stranger from there. First modern Democratic Republic so things were bound to get...very wonky.

[six-eyed-samurai]

YOU HAVE 30 UNREAD MESSAGES...

SUMMARY: Rindou loves you and all but...you really aren't supposed to be spamming his phone during a meeting right now.... A/N: This is absolute crack, based off a recent convo and dedicated to my unhinged moot @plebbypebblepleb WARNINGS: Sanzu on drugs and swearing

>>look at this cat I found

>>he's so cute!!!!!!

>>IM GONNA DIE FROM CUTENESS can we pls pls adopt him???

>>never mind

>>HE BIT ME

Rindou felt his eye twitch. He discreetly swiped away the notifications on his pinging phone away under the table. Thankfully no one had noticed yet, although Ran was grinning slyly at him he always was.

Twenty messages.

Barely ten minutes had even gone by in the meeting.

Luckily he had turned off volume for his phone. Mikey wouldn't be too happy to have his Bonten meeting so frequently interrupted so unprofessionally. Rindou didn't have much interest in being laughed at or questioned by the others either.

>>riiiiiiin

>>I was watching some videos

>>would you become a 100 foot boa constructor who eats British children boiled and gets skinned to be used as socks or boots for a Russian lady I consumed three centuries ago (she tasted like coconut)

I'm in a meeting<<

And no???<<

Rindou continued to nod at Mikey's words, doing his utmost best to divide his attention between his rapidly typing fingers and his boss while Ran ducked his head under the table curiously and came up with a wink and a very obvious smirk. Koko eyes them both suspiciously.

He was used to this. Absolutely. One thing that came with dating you was that you had a tendency to spam his phone with updates of what you were doing, odd things you had seen, the most creative of questions and pictures bordering on unhinged.

He wouldn't change it for anything, of that Rindou was certain. He loved you to Pluto and back and in an every day fight he'd take your side over Ran (even despite the elder Haitani’s “miserable” theatrics of supposed betrayal). The texts livened up the dreary work of being part of the number one most wanted criminal gang.

But…

>>I'M NOT FINISHED

>>or drink fruit juice that will give you the seven most deadly diseases

Both are terrible<<

>>[image attached]

WTF<<

>>Like it?? <33

I don't want close up pics of your feet<<

>>how dare you

…it was quite the inconvenience when he was supposed to be working.

Like right now.

Rindou reached up and rubbed his temples. Mikey was getting to the important part and he was really struggling to concentrate. It wasn't like you didn't know he was busy. He had specifically mentioned it today. Rindou couldn't fault you either - this was just your love language and…this was probably revenge for him misplacing your favourite shirt.

He briefly considered ignoring your texts for now, until he could answer them later. But then it'd probably spiral to a 100+ and the vibrations were really starting to get to him. And he did once promise to never ignore anything you said after you apologized for talking too much. You might even call him.

Ugh. What a conundrum.

Ran’s smile widened and a new notification sprang up on Rindou’s phone.

>>Ah ah ah lil bro

>>texting your gf in a meeting?

>>you're very obvious about it

>>I'm sure Mikey will notice soon~~

Great. Two idiots were spamming up his phone now. Couldn't he ever catch a break? He caught Kakucho’s frown at him and adjusted his poker face again.

Shut up<<

You're on your phone too<<

>>I'm just warning you~~

Rindou exhaled sharply and kicked his brother under the table. Childish, but Ran was a child and he deserved it.

>>Rin???

>>guess what!!

>>my fav singer just dropped a new album!!

>>can we buy it later

>>pleaseeeeee

“Haitani Shithead! What are you doing under the table?”

Crap, Sanzu caught him. Rindou shrugged, leaning away from his side-eyeing neighbor. “Nothing, just need to arrange some things on my phone for some debts to be collected,” He lies casually.

The pinkhead is probably too high to realize the holes in the fib. Thankfully he lets it go with another pop of a pill. “Sure, don’t gotta be so secretive.”

“Also, don’t call me Shithead.”

>>[3 images attached]

>>chat wake up what is going on in my friends gc rn

Yes, Rindou wanted to scream, he absolutely had to be secretive…with the cursed pictures you had just sent him. Thirty unread messages already and the meeting wasn’t even ending yet! God, Ran wasn’t helping either - he too was now spamming Rindou’s chat.

>>rindou and (y/n)

>>sitting in a tree

>>k

>>i

>>s

You know what, he could make his excuses later. Desperate times call for desperate measures. Rindou massaged his temples again, sighed deeply and looked down on his phone.

He blocked the both of you.

***

Of course it came back to bite his ass when he went home later that night: having taken extreme offense to the block you had promptly banished Rindou out of your once shared bedroom and he was exiled to the couch.

Which was being hogged by Ran who claimed he was there first for his sixth nap of the day.

Maybe next time he should just “lose” his phone before a meeting.

[the-dumpster-fire-of-life]

HIII i have a request for some platonic HC with Tom x reader who's in love with Bill. This is based off of my dr self :P

Basically reader and Tokio Hotels have known each other for yearssss, but reader met Tom first so they just have some big best friend connection yk ? Then reader has started to crush on Bill and Tom noticed and like would he help reader to confess or.juts tease them a lot interviews and in front of Bill ??

(Hello! Sure I can and I had fun writing this! I hope you enjoy!)

Tom Kaulitz x Bsf!Reader

You've probably known them since y'all were kids

He was the type just to flirt with you for the fun of it

It wasn't anything romantic and shit and you would flirt back and fight non-stop

You both just annoy each other for the hell of it

Most videos are just you drunk, singing on stage, fighting, flirting or anything together

He could be the best friend to have ever or he could be a jackass also a best friend to have

There is no in-between

He could be protective of you when things go wrong but dw because you do the same

He hated when talking about crushes and boyfriends and girlfriends when young

Yeah, he likes women but when he was younger it was different then when you guys grew up

He would playfully yell to a guy in public you were checking them out

Or that you were single

Was playfully trying to hook you up with people but if they took it serious he's like

"Ayo, nevermind let's go!"

He didn't really want you to date because your like his sister with that connection you have

You guys could go to each other for anything and talk about the most jacked up shit

He did a full 360 when he seen you had a crush on Bill

It was probably your behavior around him and Tom was just staring suspiciously

He cornered you after because he noticed you looking at his brother and with a smile that was a bit too suspicious

"Ew, ew, ew. No, (Name), why?!"

That's his reaction you figuring out the crush

Is trying to curl into himself and not break down on the fact his best friend has a crush on his brother!

Twin brother in fact!

He was almost crying into you

"Bitch, no! I could treat you better, whatchu mean?!"

He plays around like that but seriously

What do you mean?!

He was like

"So you are pretty much dating me because he's just another version of me?"

"You guys are two different people, born at the same time, Tom."

Tom is trying to buff out any talk Abt his brother with you

"I was born first so actually, he's just another version. Get your facts straight, hoe."

He calls you shit like that dw, it's more like a brother sister relationship than a friendship

Is mean mugging his brother because he's "stealing" his best friend

Tom feels like choking him but also being happy his little emo brother has a actual shot

Acts like he's your brother and interrogates Bill instead when you guys get together, if you do

"If you hurt her-"

"I'm your brother?! You should be having this conversation with her!"

"I like her better."

He feels his eye twitching when you and Bill touch

When you and Bill sit next to each other in interviews he sits his big behind between you two

Smiles at the camera as you pull like pulling his hair out his scalp

Is constantly teasing you when it comes to your crush on Bill

Bill probably knows and is a victim of the teasing too

He blabbed to Gustav and Georg and they're in on it now

He constantly does that thing were you push your friend towards their crush into them

Tries to get you with Bill passive aggressively while saying he doesn't give a shit

Is secretly rooting for you two so you would be stuck with him forever

In the far away future when you marry Bill and Gustav, you practically married Tom too

Teases you in interviews and literally anywhere

Especially in front of Tom

He finds it just so funny

When you talk to Bill and you laugh, you just turn to see Tom's face and it's just a smirk with him raising his eyebrows at you all weird and shit

Y'know those memes, you'll understand

Please shut him up and get it over with

He probably got so fed up he yelled

"Bill! You fucking idiot, she likes you, you like her! Fuck or get it out so I can live in peace!"

Stuffed you guys in a hotel room and would not let you guys out

He was tired man, you gotta understand

If it worked, he'll always brag fans favorite relationship happens because of him

If it didn't, you always brag the death of Tom Kaulitz was at your hands

[datlokibumtho]

EDIT: I said I'd add more, and so I shall. I swear, the more I rewatch it, the more abserdity crosses my mind. I forgot some, so I'll add those when I remember them.

Rewatching the Mugen Train Arc, and there are a few things I noticed that I shall now share with you. I will add more as I think of them.

▪︎Rengoku's mom is hot

▪︎You will never be able to convince me we didn't see Akaza's O Face during that final attack.

▪︎Why didn't Akaza just drag Rengoku along with him to escape? All that oomf he has, and you're telling me one dude is too heavy? Nezuko can carry someone easily while in baby mode and was strong enough to curbstomp Daki, and you're telling me Akaza, Upper Three, the fourth most powerful demon in existence can't drag one guy along for the ride while bailing? I'm calling that shit hard.

▪︎Tanjirou's VA knocked this shit out of the park.

▪︎I call bullshit that Rengoku didn't activate his Demon Slayer Mark during all that.

¤ Edit: I now know why that didn't happen, so nevermind this one.

▪︎While we're on the topic of Rengoku, can I just briefly express my confusion as to his dream of choice when Enmu put him to sleep? Out of everything he could have dreamed, all the scenarios his mind could have conjured up, he chose "that one time I did something extraordinary and my dad didn't give a shit" followed by any given day of the week. Tanjirou got his family back, Zenitsu got to spend time with the girl he loved, Inosuke got to do whatever the fuck that was...and Rengoku's got an alcoholic father who doesn't give a hair on a witch's tit if his kids live or die, a mom that's still dead from illness, and last Tuesday, the Tuesday before that, and the Tuesday before that, also known as his everyday life. Why? He could have had a father that was a presentable human being again, a mother that wasn't dead or ill, a happy life...and he bypassed all of that. Just. Fucking. Why.

¤Edit: upon further thought and some amateur analysis of his psyche, the dream probably revolved more around time with his brother, or his boundless optimism making him think every day is a gift or worth celebrating or special somehow. Or maybe he just has a really bad imagination.

▪︎Rengoku just gave Enmu his first brush with heartburn.

▪︎Look up the lyrics to Homura by LiSA, and I believe you will join me in saying fuck whoever chose the music. Why they gotta do that? Why?

▪︎Get you a man that's an absolute goober, a total badass, a complete and utter derp, a major sweetheart, and a super serious hot mess all at once. Get you a Flame Hashira. Get you Rengoku Kyoujurou.

▪︎"I'm a box lunch vendor" wasn't suspicious until he said it wasn't suspicious. Then it became suspicious.

▪︎Rengoku moving his ass like "Total Consentrstion Fuck You I'm A Hashira" speed mode activated. "Ecceleration Mode", for anyone that's up on older anine.

▪︎Pigtails runnin' her way through Rengokus dream world like the edge isn't invisible and she was at zero risk of slamming face first into it.

▪︎God damn, Tanjirou, right between the man-titties. Rude as fuck.

▪︎Tanjirou: smells blood in a snow storm, Muzan in the middle of Tokyo, identifies people by their scents after only meeting them once, can smell character traits

Rengoku: two cars down from them, chowing away at bento, unnoticed

Zenitsu: hears thing down to a celluar level and can figure out what something's species and intent are based solely of of their sounds of existsnce

Rengoku: two cars down from them, practically yelling "tasty" repeatedly, unnoticed

Inosuke: has super insane instincts and the ability to lock onto things miles away

Renkgoku: STILL just two cars down from them, living his best life with a crapton of bento, unnoticed

Tanjirou/Zenitsu/Inosuke: "Wonder where the Flame Hashira is."

▪︎Slasher demon: "No one's faster than me!"

The Other Speedy Stripy Boi Of The Mugrn Train Arc: "Destructive Death: Kick-Your-Ass-Faster-Than-The-Speed-Of-Sound-You-Scrub Type."

▪︎Rengoku's Dream World: sunshine, daisies, and fatherly rejection

Rengoku's Subconscious: flaming hellscape

Enmu's Lackey: "What the flip flap fuck is going on with this man?"

▪︎Enmu: shocked Zenitsu did anything while under his spell

The rest of us: "Yeah, it was always gonna go that way, chief."

BONUS: ORIGINAL WATCHTHROUGH THOUGHTS

▪︎My thought process through my original watchthrough eons ago: "Rengoku is a silly mans. Rengoku is kinda cool. Rengoku is utterly endearing. Rengoku is awesome. Rengoku is one BAMF. RENGOKU IS DEAD."

▪︎My almost simultaneous thought process through my original watchthrough eons ago: "I can't believe he dies, he's so amazing and wonderful and i love him. Ok, he dies in this fight, and now that i know the man, i instantly hate whoever did it. Oh no, he's HOT! My emotions are very mixed right now. My emotions are completely decided in their stance, and I am getting teary-eyed over yet another ficticious character."

▪︎My afterthoughts of my original watchthrough eons ago: "Akaza is the absolute worst, that pretty face, hot body and smooth af voice cannot change that. Wow, Muzan was mean to him after he did his damndest. My opinion can not change now that I have seen Senjurou, he is a wonderful little cinnamonroll, and Akaza must remain the worst. He can be terrible and still look good. I mean, are he and his utterly whorish waist and very lovely, somewhat delicately featured face really to blame or is Muzan or psychosis of some kind? Wow, that's a nice hourglass physique and horribly tragic backstory."

▪︎End conclusion from my original watchthrough eons ago: "My opinion of Rengoku has done a 180. I would die for Senjurou. I will probably never truly like Rengoku Shinjurou despite understanding that grief and disillusionment do strange things to people. Akaza is too hot, broken, and in a weird way endearing and lovable to hate. I loves me a tragic backstory and damaged man. I DO NOT HAVE A NEW SHIP I DO NOT HAVE A NEW SHIP I DO NOT HAVE A NEW SHIP"

▪︎I had a new ship

[riddles-n-games]

TIG AU One Shots: Gymnastics Pt. 1

Pairing: Avery and Jameson Summary: A gymnast's mantra is to never touch the floor when they are on bar for any reason other than when they are finished their routine. Falling is not an option, that's why there is someone to catch them when trying a new move. Will Avery let her new partner do the same? Length: Moderate Story Type: One Shot

A/N: It's someone's 22nd birthday per our timeline today and it's also his champagne bday per that logic too. Happy birthday to our one and only ticking time bomb, Jameson WINchester Hawthorne.

“You know you could just ask me to spot you?

“You know you could just leave me alone."

He grinned. "Ahh, but then who would catch you when you fall?"

"Your brother, my assigned partner." She didn't wait for his next retort and did a warmup flip.

One.

Two.

Three.

When she got to five, she stopped and jumped off to get more chalk. However, much to her chagrin, Jameson was still there. He walked up and leaned against the wall in front of her. She did her best to keep her eyes focused on her task as she smoothed the chalk onto her palms.

"Well, actually, Coach has reassigned Xander with someone else. To Max.” Her head snapped up at that. His smile widened; he loved catching her off guard. She narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously.

"Pretty sure he would tell me immediately if that happened. And if that's the case, why hasn't Coach come to tell the rest of us?"

He put his hands up in defeat. "Hey, you can go ask Al if you don't believe me. And Coach is sick today, I just happened to see her this morning when she was in her office. I was taking a drink when she saw me and called me over to talk about the change."

She raised a brow skeptically but eventually gave a slow nod. “Ok. Well, thanks for letting me know. I’ll call you when I need to-" A hard smack against the vault table and the giggles that followed broke her off. Jameson looked up and Avery turned, following his gaze to find the culprits haphazardly entangled; Xander and Max. She blinked. There they were, not even a full five minutes after the switch was revealed, conveniently together. Traitors.

Her best friend was sprawled all over her former partner, Xander's arms wrapped around her back and they were still laughing. It seemed that Max was the one who'd been vaulting but made an error and landed on him as he tried to valiantly save her from the failed attempt. Yep, that was very characteristic of her BHFF, sacrificing himself for the greater good, when it benefited him, that was.

But that's not what was getting to her. Max’s too wide grin, Xander’s dreamy look, his hands lingering at the small of her back, the way she wasn’t scrambling to get off him… How had she missed this? She knew they were good friends, they all were, but they hadn't seemed close in that way before.

She glanced back at Jameson to see what he was making of the situation and found him smirking amusedly as he watched the pair. He must have felt her eyes on him because his gaze locked onto hers and he raised a brow in question. Avery tilted her head in their direction and he only shrugged, his smirk turning into that crooked smile when he was being genuine. It was cute-No, don't go there.

At the moment, she had to be the bigger person and get to the bottom of her friends' deception so she started striding over to the vault mat.

"Xander!"

"Go easy on him, Avery!"

She stopped in her tracks and twirled around, pointing an accusing finger at Jameson. “You knew about this, too? How long?” Her answer was nothing more than laughter from the definitively guilty party and a mischievous wink. A while then. She rolled her eyes. "Don't think I'm letting this go, Hawthorne. I'm coming after you later."

"Wouldn't dream of it," he called after her as she resumed walking over to Xander and Max. It was time to get answers.

──◆─◈─◇─◈─◆──▶──◆─◈─◇─◈─◆──◀──◆─◈─◇─◈─◆──

Xander and Max. Max and Xander. Alexander and Maxine. Maxine and Xander. Maxine and Alexand-Ok, that’s enough. She was getting overwhelmed. No, she was definitely already overwhelmed.

She was happy for her best friend, there was no doubt in her mind about that. Xander was a great guy and Avery would be the first to advocate for him; after all, he helped her through some of her darkest times. Max and him got along very well and when they teamed up on game nights, they were top tier menaces. The chemistry was there from the start.

So how did she not notice what was going on right under her nose? If there was anything that Avery prided herself with, it was being observant yet here she was. 4 months, that’s how long they’ve been together without her realizing.

She thought herself a fairly attentive friend; after harder trainings, they'd go out to the local cafe, post work shifts, she'd offer her to stay for milkshakes, on shorter lesson days, she'd suggest the library or the mall so they could be together while they did schoolwork. And then there was the obligatory, at least once per month, reserved "catch up" day on a weekend where they would spend the entire day together to rant about anything and everything in their personal lives.

But truth be told, that hadn't been the case in the last while. She'd been busier lately, advancing a level opened up a whole new set of competitions and that meant dealing with new competitors, learning new tricks, practicing new routines, longer trainings, twisted ankle, new job, sleepless nights, the list went on. For six months, her life had barely been hers. Their last catch up day had been two months ago after a successful comp which even then had been hard to schedule because of the crazy prep training. It hadn't been for lack of trying on either of their ends, but it was clear; their lives were shifting dramatically and things were amping up for both of them which is exactly what gave Xander an opening.

While Max and her still spent a lot of time together during training, the schedule demanded certain things from them which took away the uniformity they had. However, Xander's was untouched and when Max had her breaks, she was still training which gave him the perfect opportunity for them to bond. Her change in job also inhibited on some of their former free time but Max had finally started an internship which somehow brought her closer to Xander since he also interned there. And now, most recently, the partner change.

Jameson Winchester Hawthorne. Jameson. Jamie. Her new partner. She tested it out in her mind. Avery and Jameson. Jameson and Avery. It had a nice flow in theory but would it work in reality?

Jamie was certainly a character; he was Xander's older brother, Max's former spotting partner, rings and parallel bars extraordinaire, his skills on vault took him to new heights every time, and he had a knack for solving riddles. He was also very flirty and a charmer which of course made him a hit with the ladies. Coach chewed him out for that often. He couldn't help it, he was a looker as his Nan would say and he was handsome, Avery couldn't deny that.

They were good friends with a funny dynamic where he would tease her and she'd pretend to be annoyed at him. But when they paired up during escape rooms or mystery games, they were unstoppable which proved that he was formidable as a teammate. And Avery was somewhat grateful for it. However, he also had a terrible habit of being flirtatious with her. One of his favorite games was "Ask and Reject"; he'd ask her on a date and she would deflect, then he'd make a joke at how she wounds him so and she'd roll her eyes. That was the script every time without fail.

While it was all in good fun, she had to believe that part of it was done intentionally. He liked her, she was sure of it, why else would he keep pursuing only her? Jameson was cute, she'd admit silently, he was good-natured as much as he tried acting a player and she certainly didn't mind when he was shirtless on the rings.

So there was an attraction there and she did like him but dating was a hassle. She was busy and a boyfriend would just be a distraction; why bother? It was better like this, that way no one got hurt and she could let herself get a taste of what it's like being wanted, just a tiny bit to keep on dreaming what could be. It was necessary torture even if the romantic inside her died a little each time.

Having finished her 10 minute break, she stopped fiddling with her hair and took a swig from her water bottle before going over to the warm up area to stretch again. Every so often Avery liked to do some mid-training stretches to refocus on her next set of exercises and assess her limbs for any damage. She'd just started twisting her core when she spotted Jameson recovering post pommel horse practice and he was flexing his arms in that way when the upper back became stiff. He was turned to the side and his shirt rode up a bit, flashing his abs for a brief moment and she froze like a deer in headlights. It happened a few more times before he started to turn and she quickly looked down before he could catch her staring. The teasing would be endless.

She continued her stretches, pointedly avoiding looking his way until she was done and went back to the bars. Only once she got there did she feel eyes on her and she looked up when her gaze locked on his. He smiled crookedly and winked to which she looked away and rolled her eyes. As she blew at a loose hair, she heard him yell across the room, "Good luck, Grambs Cracker."

"Thanks." With a steadying breath, she jumped up and righted herself in the air before flipping. She exhaled. What to practice? Coach had given her a list of moves she should start practicing for her next routine which included Wieler kips, some Endos, quite a few pikes, hip circles and some new transitions that she hadn’t incorporated before. It was all very demanding but she was up for the challenge. She’d just try the transitions later when she got a groove going.

And so it began.

──◆─◈─◇─◈─◆──▶──◆─◈─◇─◈─◆──◀──◆─◈─◇─◈─◆──

Pike. Twist. Handstand. 360 turn. Straddle. Release. Transition. Low bar land and back flip. Rest. Cast. Maloney. Back to the high bar. Her body swung backwards with the movement. Let the force of the swing guide your body into the next skill. It’s easier to let momentum do the work for you than fighting it. That’s what Coach had told her many times when she was but a young starry-eyed overachiever. Think of yourself as a pendulum and the momentum is what helps you make magic. She did it then.

Her legs were nearing the top; locking in. Inhale. Peak. Hold. Release. Exhale. She embraced the rush of adrenaline as the pull of gravity took over and increased her speed before she swung forward into another handstand. And that is the art of the swing. Another brief pause, just enough time for a split second decision. Blind change. Her choice could only be a pike skill but what would it be? Church, Galante, or Ricna?

Coach was very excited for her to be doing more variations with pikes and Stalder since she'd been good at using them in combinations before. One of these days, she might even make her own skill and Avery didn't want to disappoint when she did.

It'd been a few days since she last practiced the moves so she might as well start with a favorite. Galante it was. But first, a few pike circles to warm up. She let her legs fall forward and pointed her feet at a 90 degree angle just as she swung down again and her feet touched the bar.

One.

Two.

Three.

She was ready. On the fourth rotation, she pushed back into a handstand and imagining like the audience just went completely silent, she dropped on the beat. Her body bent in half by the time she reached the midpoint and then her legs split into a straddle just as she was about to complete a full circle. And then, she let go. She was airborne.

In moments like these, she believed she could fly in the same way she was sure the spectators were convinced gymnasts could touch clouds just by a leap and a bound high enough. There was no fear, just bliss and the thrill of the next flight, no matter how short it was. Just like that, it was over and she reached for the bar. Steadying herself for the wood grooves rubbing against her palms, her fingers made contact but only briefly. The tips of her fingers brushed downward only to be met with air again as she felt her right ankle hit the bar.

THWACK!

Pain shot through her leg as the force of the hit rebounded her at an angle, leaving her grasping at air as she fell downward to the mat. She was sure her soul was leaving her as her stomach dropped in realization. This isn't happening. Suddenly, her hair whipped into her face, swiping at her eyes sharply, making her blink.

"JAMESON!" She heard someone yelling from afar. Max. Just as she thought she would hit the ground, keeping her eyes shut and bracing for impact, rapid footsteps bounded in her direction. Next thing she knew, arms were wrapping around her torso and pulling her upward, causing the blood flow to go back up to her head. She grimaced and refused to open her eyes. The sound of heavy breathing filled her ears and warm hands around her upper back and thighs grounded her.

Someone was holding her, she didn't know who yet. "Avery, are you okay?" She shook her head before reflexively bringing a hand to her forehead when it started throbbing again. But that voice. Jameson. He caught her; that made her open her eyes before she ultimately regretted that too. The brightness blinded her and she closed her eyes again, bringing her hands to cover them. "Hey, easy now. Take your time, we don't need you losing your eyesight."

She felt him lowering her to the mat and withdrawing his arms from around her as she felt him shift his weight next to her. Her skin immediately shivered without his touch. "Keep breathing. In and out, slow. Good, can I take your hands off your eyes now?" Avery nodded numbly. Gently, his hands wrapped around hers and pried them off her face, rubbing soothing circles into her palms as she finally dared opening her eyes. She did it slowly this time like he suggested.

"There she is." He smiled softly at her and placed her hand on her knee before cupping her cheek. She leaned into it. She needed this. That really shook her. Things like that happened rarely to Avery Grambs; that's why she liked bars most compared to other events. She was so certain of herself and it's why she was the best in the gym in the skill. It's why there were so many gold medals hanging on her wall. But even a champion falls, that was something she always had to remember. All of them.

Just because you're at the top that doesn't mean you're not going to fall. Remember you're only human. When you're at the top, the only way is down and it can be a nasty fall, kid, Nash's voice echoed in her mind. His brothers had learned that the hard way too many times.

"Do you want to get up?" Jameson's soft tone coaxed her out of her thoughts and she looked at him startled. "You wanna get up?" The question was repeated.

"Y-Yeah."

"Okay, let me help you." He leaned back on his knee and she let him grasp her hands. "Ready?" "Yup." She exhaled, focusing on pressing the balls of her feet into the mat for grip. "Okay, on three. One, two, three." With sudden speed, he'd pulled her up and took her off balance, making her smack into his chest like a ragdoll. His arms wrapped around her instinctively and didn't move from her waist when she righted herself. Both of them were red in the face and panting.

"You good?"

"Yeah, been better, though."

He chuckled. "I'm sure." Then his expression turned sober. "But you sure scared me shitless, Aves. I was barely there on time. Please let me know when you're doing the newer routines so I can be ready to spot you. It doesn't take away from my time to keep you safe."

She could only nod. There was nothing she could say in protest. He was right which was a rarity for Jameson. But in this case it worked.

"Good. I'm glad we got that straight. I'd ask what happened but you look like you need a moment for that yourself." She let out an anxious laugh at that and nodded again. Make that a week! "I do have one more question... Go on a date with me?" He sounded out of breath.

Avery's eyes locked onto his in surprise. It was so sincere and he looked solemn but his green eyes shined with such hope. How could she refuse him especially now that he saved her life?

"Sure." Her answer came out just as breathless.

"Great, now don't do that ever again. You really caught me off guard there."

"Yeah, that was definitely not planned." She brought a hand to her sweaty forehead and swiped at the hair stuck there. "And trust me, I avoid that every chance I get."

"Well, next time, you can just call and let me catch you when you feel like you're falling for me. I love saving a damsel in distress especially when she's assigned to fall into my arms."

"Shut up." He grinned before leaning down and pressing a kiss to the side of her head. Her eyes widened when he let her go and her cheeks burned with the oncoming blush. As he left, lingering just a bit when he unwrapped his remaining arm from her waist, she kept her head down trying to fight the smile playing at her lips. When he was further away, she turned slowly, her face feeling hot and smiling stupidly, big and wide and unabashed. But, when she looked up, Max was in front of her with a satisfied smirk. Very satisfied.

"Not a word." Her friend's evil merry laughter was the only thing she heard as she walked to the locker room to blush in peace.

A/N: Hey, I hope you guys enjoyed that; thanks for reading. Also, Happy Jameson Appreciation Day! I am so happy that we finally a canon date for my best boy’s birthday and that we get to celebrate him for it. For those of you who are interested in learning more about the bar skills that I mentioned in this fic, here are the sites I used:

https://wagymnastics.fandom.com/wiki/Uneven_Bars_Skills

https://www.synergygymnastics.co.uk/gymnastics-bar-moves/#google_vignette

[sirdindjarin]

Never Let Me Down Again - Joel Miller x Reader (Part One)

While searching cross-country for his brother, Joel stumbles across Ellie and you, her older sister. Persuaded into letting you two tag along, Joel is reminded that there are some good things left in the world.

A/N: This is a non-canon (timeline is fucked with), highly indulgent story. Based on Pedro Pascal's excellent daddyness in the HBO adaptation of The Last of Us. Also, I'm from the South so I get to make fun of it and beautify it.

Masterlist ->

AO3 Link♥

RATING: Mature - sexual pining, cursing, gore, canon-typical violence, blood, death of an animal (rabbit).

TAGS: Age Gap (reader is mid-twenties, Joel is mid-forties), Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Pining, Angst, Fluff, EVENTUAL SMUT, Happy Ending.

WC: 10.5k

Before the world ended, many a weekend had been spent sleeping under the stars, smelling the heated smoke of a campfire, and listening to your father tell stories of his wild childhood.

But now, in this diseased world, the quiet woodlands around you feel more like victorious kingdoms. 

Eight years ago, nature began a war, successfully colonizing mankind. Neither cities nor the country were safe, but at least the wilderness was fairer: a chance at freedom controlled only by fate and capability. 

You’ve grown to like this area, as far as you can like anywhere that isn’t fortified and full of supplies and weapons. Determining which QZs or communities weren’t run by a violent government or another type of evil had been too risky. You had her to think about. 

The scope of your rifle trains on a furry patch of gray and tan. The rabbit's fluffy head snaps up, preternaturally aware of the danger. As you breathe into the squeeze of the trigger, a bronze shape shifts into your field of vision. You relax your finger and adjust the scope to identify the intrusion.

A man. His hair is downy, a mixture of mahogany and gray, similar to your previous, smaller target. He, too, has a gun pointed at the doomed rabbit. He seems to feel the attention of your firearm as his gaze pinpoints you.

The man has guarded eyes the color of coffee. With a powerful build only broadened by his thick tawny jacket, he's imposing. But his unkempt hair, full lips, and strong jaw tug at your sensibilities.

You recognize the look of hunger on his face; the memory of that feeling ghosts through your gut in empathy. Your weapon lowers, and you tip your head toward the animal, signaling to the stranger.

The man returns your gesture in gratitude and fires. You back away, gun still at the ready, as he advances to retrieve his dinner. Being nice didn't mean that you had to let your guard down.

       ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

"You bitches," the elderly woman shrieks. "Where's our fuckin' eggs?"

Your hands point skyward as you stare down a shotgun. It’s an antique double barrel. Your grandfather had one like it. You wonder where it is now.

Lightning fast, you kick out to the left, hooking Ellie’s leg, indicating she should get behind you.

"No, ma’am. We didn't take any of your eggs. We came up here to ask you honestly for some." You try to explain, backing up a step. Ellie’s hands are tense on your back, ready for whatever you tell her to do.

The small farm sits in a holler near the base of a mountain; a half day's walk from your failed rabbit hunt. It wasn’t much anymore - the barn had long ago fallen to splinters and the pens contained no livestock.

However, a handful of chickens cluck around in the front yard. Neither you nor Ellie could believe the sound as you approached the old, single-story farmhouse.

Your excitement quickly dissipated. Sickles, rusted farm equipment, and bleached bones you hadn't the time to identify were strung around the front porch. Mason jars filled with suspiciously-colored liquids lined the railings.

"Bullshit. We ain't seen not a single livin' person outside of us in years, and my eggs go missin' the same day you selfish brats appear? Pfft." 

What remains of the woman’s stringy hair flies about as she spits in the dirt. It was hard to believe she’s had a roof over her head all this time. Her once-white nightgown is splotchy and torn. The shotgun is too heavy for her, shaking in her frail arms.

“‘We?’ Ten bucks says she's living with a dead body," Ellie quips under her breath.

"John, get out here!" The woman calls over her shoulder.

"Lady, seriously, we'll just move on," you try again.

"JOHN!"

The silence of the woods had been disturbed by the woman’s accusations and was now replaced by the intimidating thumping and squeaking of a large man's footsteps on bowed, rotten wood.

A bear of a man, roughly mid-fifties (though it was hard to tell through the beard trailing to his chest and the ball cap on his head), stands in the doorway. In his right hand gleams a hammer.

"We like to save bullets," the old bitch sneers.

"Listen to me, lady, we did not take anything from you!" 

John steps slowly off the porch, his eyes trained on you. It was almost ridiculous. Did these people really think you would stand there while a man beat you to death with a hammer? You'd take a shotgun blast over that.

The problem was Ellie. The gun was a double-barreled shotgun which meant the woman only had two shells. If you could get her to fire and miss twice, both of you would have time to run. 

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Under the cover of a pine tree, Joel Miller squats, watching the scene unfold. With three eggs in his hand, he feels mildly bad about you being blamed for their disappearance. Especially since he recognizes you as the girl who gave up a rabbit for him. 

Joel hears the woman call you thieves and shakes his head. Honestly, the old woman should be on-her-knees-grateful he didn’t take a whole fuckin' chicken. As he watches, he notices that she can barely hold the shotgun. 

They’ll be fine. 

His knees crack as he straightens and turns to leave, but then the shrieking echo of her calling for a man makes him pause. Joel didn’t like the odds so much anymore. He sees the look on the gun-wielding granny’s face and concludes that something far worse than justice for egg theft had fermented in these hillbillies' minds.

Joel's sharp eyes examine you. He can see the gears turning in your head, the plan forming in your mind. Gut feelings and snap judgments were important when they were the difference between life and death. Joel had become adept at both. Joel’s snap judgment was that you were capable. Smart. He figured you probably would be okay without his help, but his conscience grabs hold of him. 

He owed you.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

"A’right," a man's low, smooth voice commands. "No need for all this."

Fear drops a weight in your stomach. The voice came from behind you and you don't dare turn. Now you’re outnumbered. And if this man also has a gun, it’s truly game over.

You swallow down the crushing dread, trying not to cry. Guilt and desperation stab at you over your failure to protect your sister.

But as you look at the homeowners' faces, you're confused. John’s lip is curled into a snarl, and his mother shakily moves the gun back and forth between you and the newcomer.

You decide it's worth the risk. You rotate, and from your peripheral, you somehow recognize the figure stepping out from the twilit woods.

How is that possible? Everyone you've ever known - or even heard of - is dead.

"Put it down," the man's southern accent is clear. 

You try to place it subconsciously. The Carolinas? No, his accent is too soft on the vowels. Georgia, maybe?

Slowly, the old woman hunches over the gun as if to set it down, but instead pulls the trigger in the direction of the mystery man. The recoil sends her stumbling. The sound explodes in the clearing, conjoined by the concussion of the newcomer's firearm discharging. The shotgun clatters to the ground, along with the old woman. Blood pools in the grass around her head. 

John roars and charges the man who killed his mother. Dropping your arms, you cage Ellie behind you. John races past, single-minded.

Your savior calmly stands several yards away with a rifle in his hands. To your utter shock, it’s the man from your earlier rabbit hunt. 

How the fuck? 

He’s as unmoving as the surrounding mountains despite Big John barreling down on him. The man from the woods fires one shot. John drops to the ground with a sickening thud and a winded moan. Shot in the gut, he has a few moments to live.

"How're y'all keepin' chickens alive out here for eight years?"

"Fuck you, boy," John chokes up blood, sputtering. Then his breath rattles once, twice, and stops.

The scruffy stranger reaches into his pocket and pulls out a tan egg. "Haven’t had an egg in..." He retreats from that memory.

You snort good-naturedly, "Well, I was going to say ‘Nice to see you again,’ but that dampens my gratitude."

“Owed you for the rabbit, too” he explains. 

"What's he mean by that? What rabbit?" Ellie inputs.

You ignore her and laugh. “Why didn’t you take a whole chicken?” 

“What’m I gonna do with a live chicken?”

“Eat it.”

“Well, that wouldn’t have been very nice of me, would it?” He mutters, toeing John. “Sure would like to know how these idiots survived all this time without bein’ raided, though. This place isn’t that hidden. We both found it.” 

His suspicions were starting to sprout in you, too. “Maybe it wasn’t just those two. We should check the house. Might be good stuff in there.” But after the way this family looked and acted, you knew you were unlikely to find anything besides toads collected in jars.  

The brown-eyed man nods, "Yeah, guess so."

“What’s your name?” You inquire.

The man simply looks at you.

“So I can call if I need something.”

He sighs, hesitating.

“Joel,” he answers, his voice quick and deep. It suits him. Strong, fitting somehow. 

“Alright, Joel.” You give him your name. “Let’s get it over with - I’m getting the creeps out here, and I doubt it'll be better inside.” 

“Fuck me, I guess?” Ellie chimes in again now that a bit of trust has been established.

Joel looks at her, shocked, but addresses you: “She always talk like that?”

“Yeah, pretty much. You keep watch, El.” You point to the stump of a fallen tree. “Get comfy.”

The interior of the house is precisely what you expected. Dirt, decay, bugs, and stains cover every surface. Mold decorates several corners of the ceiling, and at least two walls have water damage, causing the old paint to swell and burst. The living room is cramped - a time capsule of trash litters the floor. You gleefully point out a crushed can of Vanilla Pepsi. 

“They released that like a month before it all went to shit,” you remember. “I loved that soda.” 

Your mind wanders, no longer seeing the house. Ellie was only six back then. You, just seventeen. You’d taken your younger sister out of school early. You’d bought that same soda and driven to a park, watching Ellie be a kid on the playground. 

How incredible the difference a few hours can make. It was painful to remember your parents, and you tried not to. When you left the house that morning, did you say goodbye properly? Did you hug your mom? It’s been too long to remember with certainty. 

An impatient voice slams you back into the present, “Can’t be cryin’ over trash all day.” 

You paw at a lonely tear with your sleeve. “You know damn well I wasn’t crying over trash.” 

He’s got his back to you as he leans to dig through a cabinet in the adjoining kitchen. In the center of the floor, an old rug makes a squelching noise when he steps on it.

“Can’t be cryin’ over that now, either,” he says with a glimmer of empathy, moving through the kitchen with a practiced sweep of his rifle. It reminds you that he, too, has a tragic backstory. Everyone does. 

You inhale deeply to collect yourself and regret it. You quickly pull the collar of your flannel over your nose. A sickly sweet smell permeates the place, as if the house itself were decomposing.

The floorboards, once a pretty oak, are black and squishy. The walls are yellow and the black-and-white photos framed down the hallway wall make the place seem even older than it is. This house is condemnable.

You sweep the other rooms, all of them in nearly unlivable conditions, and find nothing besides two equally disgusting beds. But it was strange. How were these people thriving? They must have friends. A compound nearby, a trader, some smuggling friends, someone.

You step out from the last bedroom and back into the long, yellow hallway. 

Joel stands in the living room, backlit by the open front door. He’s staring at a piece of paper in his hands like it’s a map to Atlantis. It might as well be.

“You good?” You ask as you advance on him, curious about his find. 

He looks up and his face, while unsmiling, is excited. “My brother’s on a damn beach.”

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

In the east, the sun rises over the hill. You’re awoken by the bright heat on your cheeks and eyelids. To your left, among the trees, you can hear fabric rustling and buckles snapping together. Joel must be packing up his gear. He’d slept as far away from the two of you as he could after making your deal. 

In the dying light of the previous evening, you had offered to watch his back and help procure food if he’d let you tag along to his brother’s camp.

Joel had let slip that this brother of his was a “joiner; joins every ‘good’ cause he can find” and whatever he was up to typically meant his location was safer than most. After aimlessly wandering for the last several years, you figure a destination would be good for Ellie. 

Groggily, you sit up and unzip your sleeping bag. Ellie’s arm is thrown over her face, yet to awaken from the natural alarm clock. You groan as you stand, your back not as young as it once was. Catching his attention, Joel lifts his pack and stomps toward you - or, maybe he’s just a big guy and I’m not used to staring at a man when he walks, you think amusedly.

He clears the tree line and asserts, “Need to go. If you’re still comin’, we’re gonna be slow, an’ it’s already a ways.” 

You disagree, “We’re not gonna slow you down. We both made it to that place,” you wave at the chicken coop down the hill, “at the same time, buddy.” 

“Technically, I got there first,” he argues. 

You suck your teeth, unwilling to battle technicalities this early in the morning. You move over to your sister and gently shake her arm.

“I didn’t sleep at all,” she moans.

“Yeah, El, welcome to life. Get up.”

She glares up at you, huffing, and rises from her makeshift bed. 

Joel stands with his hands on his hips, watching impassively. From under the curtain of your hair, as you squat to roll your bag, you take stock of him.

The lines radiating from the corners of his eyes and across his forehead tell you that he’s older than you by at least a decade, probably two, but the wavy, graying hair, solid build, and confident demeanor only add to your interest. His pack looks bulky and burdensome, but he carries it on his shoulders as though it weighs nothing. He’s hardened but kind enough to have felt in your debt. His red, faded plaid shirt is snug across his torso and his biceps. His hands are strong and capable. 

As you study his hands, you notice he wears a watch. It looks old, its face cracked, but your brief once-over isn’t enough to be sure. That would be odd if so.

Why wear an old, broken watch?

Maybe it was broken recently and he hasn’t noticed. But Joel didn’t seem like the type of man who wouldn't notice something like that, nor would he keep items of no use to him. Your eyebrows furrow. 

Maybe it’s sentimental.

You absentmindedly touch your necklace and your heart aches for him. That makes more sense. You have no proof besides a quick character study of the man, but you’re sure he wears that thing for the same reason you wear yours. 

Joel's mind swells with impatience, nearly telling you that he’s leaving without you several times despite it taking you less than five minutes to pack. As he opens his mouth to speak his mind, you rise from your squatted position. 

Since you'd already been staring, you make eye contact with him. Your warm smile brands him. Joel blinks twice, his bad mood disarmed. He has no idea how long it's been since someone genuinely smiled at him.

“Uh,” Joel clears his throat, “Okay. We’re goin’ east.”

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

It has been silent for several hours at this point. Hiking uphill was strenuous no matter the athletic ability, and talking was out of the question. Your head hangs as you focus on your two feet crunching upon the dead leaves and brambles. Dead twigs scratch at your boots. 

You might’ve been embarrassed about your lethargy if Joel hadn’t been worse. His legs actually stomp, determined to get where they're going. He had been ahead when you first started this morning, but now he was level with you. You couldn’t blame him. He was in excellent shape, but this was exhausting. 

“Wanna - take a break?” You push out the words between breaths. 

From under his hooded eyes, he throws a sidelong glance at you, unsure if you’re mocking him. He looks over his shoulder at Ellie. She throws him a thumbs-up. 

“She’s a baby. We’re not,” you tell him. 

He snorts and you want to believe his lip twitches. “What are you - twenty-two?” 

“No,” you answer. He snorts again in disbelief. You continue, “I haven’t been twenty-two in a while.” 

“It was, like, a few years ago,” Ellie interjects. Her face is amused. She knows.

“A few years is a long time out here. Especially on my poor back.” You glare at her.

Due to the incline of the earth, you plant your legs to keep yourself from tumbling down the hill. Joel follows suit, sitting down where he’d been standing. You take a swig from your canteen, the cold water almost painful to your parched throat.

Joel paces his breath. His heart begins to slow and his body relaxes before his peace is ended by Ellie.

“So, Joel, what’re you doing out here? So far from your home… of…?” 

Her arms are propped on her knees, her chin resting on her folded hands. It isn’t a polite question though she asks it with innocence. She's as curious about him and his accent as you are. 

It was rare to meet someone out here that wasn’t an automatic enemy, so Joel couldn’t blame your sister too much for asking. He’s still irritated by it. 

“I'm transporting cargo.”

“What cargo? Something cool?”

Joel motions between you and Ellie.

“No, dude, I mean where are you from and what were you doing before you ran into us.” She sounds exasperated.

“Nothin' for you to be worried about,” Joel answers with honesty and finality.

Ellie holds up her hands in surrender, “Hey, I was just curious. We’ve never met a man like you out here is all.” 

Joel wants to let that go in one ear and out the other, and he doesn’t comment on it, but internally he feels a spasm of some long-forgotten emotion. A man like him? A smuggler, a criminal, a murderer? Sure she has. 

             ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

A few, long days later, Ellie tries again.

"Georgia?" She quizzes. She gets no answer from the wall of Joel's back. She tries again:

"Florida?"

Joel snorts. "No." 

"Texas?" You finally guess.

Joel freezes his face to prevent giving anything away, but that's his biggest tell. Walking near him, you can see his mouth twitch, too.

"Ah. So, a cowboy," you say slyly. "The best kind of southerner." 

Joel scoffs, not wanting the praise. "Wasn't no cowboy."

"What'd you do? If you don't mind me asking."

"I do mind." He successfully shuts you up.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

“I’ve always liked North Carolina,” you offer to no one in particular. 

It’s been five days of walking in this new triad. Joel sighs. You and your sister talk so much. He refuses to acknowledge the part of him that would 've enjoyed the banter.

As the three of you plod along, the wind picks up and the Carolina pines creak in response.

“You’ve never been here before,” Ellie accuses. 

All you can see is Joel’s broad back as the two of you follow him down the empty road, but he might’ve shaken his head at the petty argument. 

The freeways and interstates were impossible to walk down due to the number of cars, but these state back roads were almost pleasant. Few people had evacuated this way, but occasionally you'd pass a long-abandoned car.

“I know, stupid. I saw pictures.” You might be her guardian, but you’re still sisters. 

“Hey Joel, have you ever been here before?” Ellie goes over your head.

A single head shake. 

“Is the beach nice?” She continues.

Joel stops, half-turns, and looks over his shoulder. One eyebrow is raised as he deadpans, “You wan’ me to tell your fortune, too?”

Ellie rolls her eyes. “But you’re old. You were around before. Surely you know more than she does.” She jerks her thumb in your direction. 

Joel’s eyes flick to you, then he abruptly turns back around. He hoists his bag higher onto his shoulder and continues walking.

“I was basically an adult on outbreak day, Ellie.” You mouth at her: What the fuck are you doing? 

Why do you care? She mouths back, I think you like him.

She punctuates her statement by pointing at you, then his broad back. She curls her arms as if she were in a body-building competition. Your cheeks flush.

He - is - helping us! You wave your hands dramatically, semi-mocking her and instantly feeling less mature for the motion.

Oh, yeah, out of the goodness of his lil’ heart? She looks incredulous. 

Maybe! Your eyes widen, trying to convince her.

You could believe it. Sure, he had a rough exterior, and you doubted he’d be throwing his ass on the line for you again, but he was decent enough to give one or two shits.

Ellie belts one short laugh, easily mistaken for a cry of alarm which causes Joel to whirl around sharply. His large, dark eyes dart behind and to either side before he realizes you’d just been communicating between yourselves. He says nothing, his expression once again that of a disappointed parent.

“Sorry. Thought of a… great joke.” Ellie bites her cheek to quell the laughter in her throat. 

Your younger sister is a horrible liar. Ellie had been banned from all diplomatic jobs required for survival. If it required white lies, good lies, or bad lies, the job fell to you. 

Joel grimaces, “Well, keep it to yourself.”

Ellie salutes with her first two fingers; Joel turns away once more, only partly curious as to what you’d been talking about. It made him miss his brother. Made him miss laughing with his brother. The kid sure was a pain-in-the-ass right-fighter, but god, he loved him.

A few hours later, Ellie catches you admiring the fit of Joel’s jeans. In your defense, his red flannel had ridden up underneath his backpack like a velvet stage curtain. His brown leather belt lined the edge of his deeply-tanned skin. The colors look so warm - he looks so warm. It’s such a pathetic thought and you feel an insane desire to giggle. You clamp a hand over your mouth, and Ellie slaps you on the arm.

“You’re so obvious,” she whispers. “Are you okay?” She’s half-serious, half-mocking, but at the mention of it, you do a mental calculation and realize something. 

“No, I’m losing it. I’m gonna need to find some water. Been a couple of days,” you frown. 

Joel must've heard you because he stops and pulls out his map.

“Says there’s a creek running just south of us,” he leans against the first car (crashed and unusable, of course) you'd seen in nearly an hour. He nods toward the woods, tapping the map against his thigh. You grab Ellie by the hand, and trek in the direction he’d indicated. 

While you’re gone, Joel interrogates the map. How in the sweet fuck did he get this lucky? If he had to guess, he’d say that Tommy had either given those hillbillies this map in case they needed to find him (Tradin', maybe? Or to give them a place to retreat to?), or they had stolen the map from someone else who had it for the same reasons.

It didn’t matter, really; all Joel cares about is that Tommy’s name and handwriting had circled a spot near the coast. At least a ten-day walk, probably more; he sighs. 

Joel lifts his eyes to the moody sky. The breeze cools the sweaty, tan skin of his throat. Joel closes his eyes, allowing himself a moment of calm. 

Projected on his eyelids, he sees you lowering your gun amongst the trees, allowing him to have the rabbit. You’d been there first. Food wasn’t something people compromised on and yet… you’d had mercy on him. A stranger. 

His eyes fly open and he shakes his shoulders, unhappy about the squirming feeling inside him. 

Since he'd met you the second time, you’d talked more than he’d heard anyone speak in over a month. 

“Our parents used to take us into the woods and announce that we had to ‘Fend for ourselves.’ It was a fun exercise - at the time. We learned how to fish and hunt and gather berries or mushrooms or edible plants, and it was always this big adventure. We’d pile everything next to our campfire and my dad would say-”

“Eatin’ goooooood t’night!” Ellie finished the story in your father’s inflection, a tinge of sadness around the sound. You’d nudged her shoulder in camaraderie.

 Joel had yet to smile or talk about himself. The two of you asked enough questions, but he did his best to ignore them. He was completely confused as to your gaiety. 

You hadn’t lost as much of your social nature as you believed. Joel supposed having your sister by your side constantly would go far in preserving your pre-outbreak self. 

He’d been on his own too long. That was another reason he hadn’t denied your suggestion to follow him to the coast. The accompaniment of two unreasonably optimistic people caused him anxiety, but having experienced companions he could trust (and, inexplicably, he did feel that he could trust you) would always be invaluable. 

Joel had formed another snap judgment about you: you’re naive. He couldn’t understand how that was possible, though, and he almost felt guilty for even thinking it. You have survived with the added pressure of a dependant for eight years in this shit sandwich of a world. How could you have done that if you were naive? 

But his own eyes saw your willingness to give up food, your honesty in trying to ask for eggs, and now your blind trust in his guiding you three.

You needed an objective partner. He was willing to be such temporarily, and wherever Tommy was would be a safe place for you and your sister. 

You return a little while later clearly unhappy. Ellie, fighting a self-conscious smile, brings up the rear. She’d taunted you more about your infatuation with ‘your savior,’ as she’d called him. Which, of course, he wasn’t. Technically, he was the reason you’d gotten into trouble in the first place. 

You'd explained to Ellie that he was like a new toy. Different, interesting, and unthreatening. 

Well, sort of. 

You ring out the ends of your hair as Joel asks, tilting his chin up, “What happened?”

“Accidentally tipped her into the stream,” Ellie answers, patting your elbow apologetically. “I was just trying to nudge her as a joke but -”

“I slipped on the moss.” You finish for her. Since you were able to catch your fall, you hadn’t been soaked, but you had fallen on your knees and part of your hair had swung into the creek bed.

Joel lowers his eyebrows. You could’ve been hurt, or come down with pneumonia had you gotten your clothes wet. Spending winter nights in sleeping bags wasn’t the haven you wished and doing it wet may have killed you.

Joel eyes Ellie. Her cheek is twitching as if she’s nervously biting the inside of it, and her hands twist in her lap as she plunks down on the ground. 

She feels bad. Good. He was assessing a threat. If the kid was so wanton about causing problems, he’d re-evaluate this deal. But no: Just a kid actin’ like one. 

“Sun’ll be down in about an hour. Might as well set up shop here.”

“That's cool with me - it’s a nice view,” you can’t help but observe. And you’re right. The old state highway curves around and down a small, rolling mountain. Old farms divvy up the valley below like a patchwork quilt. 

Uncaring about the cliche, you’re struck by the sight. So many people spent their lives looking for a purpose. Thrills? Surviving? Power? You may be young, but you saw the answer every day, and you see it now. Your eyes drink in the blue ridges of the hazy mountains and the safe greenness that was alien to so many who sequestered in the QZs. 

Your head turns a fraction to see your sister stand and quirk her lips. Her hands land on her hips as she squints into the distance, thinking the same thing you had been. Beauty and love.

Your irritation is erased as if it had never been. Still smiling, you turn to Joel and ask, “Alright, you want to start the fire or set up the tent?”

Joel is staring at you. His face, so often canyoned by worry lines, was open to you now. Wide, coffee-colored eyes shine as he wonders who you are. How you could be so untroubled. 

But the look disappears the instant you register his curiosity. His brow drops and he grunts, “I’ll set up the tent.”

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

The next morning, your vision is filled with a utilitarian-green canvas ceiling. This tent belonged to your parents. It was one of your prized possessions, only pitching it when necessary, or whenever safe enough.

Later, you would convince yourself your cold, wet hair had been what led you to whip out the tent that night, not the inherent security of Joel’s presence. He, of course, had remained outside the tent despite it being just big enough to squeeze the three of you. You wouldn’t have let him inside, anyway. Trusting a man only went so far when it concerned your baby sister.

A crackling sound licks your ears and you smell smoke. You fight your way out of your sleeping bag and unzip the tent.

Joel is tired. He’s wearing his heavy jacket in the chill of the morning, and the biting breeze tussles with his already windswept hair. His eyes meet yours and he thins his lips in greeting. His lackluster "good morning" notwithstanding, he looked simultaneously soft and rough - in your opinion, exactly how a man should. 

He looks so fucking good. Your stomach somersaults in response. Wonder if I’d be this easy if the world hadn’t died, you laugh at yourself.

"Caught another rabbit. Here,” Joel leans, plucking a small piece of cooked meat from a roasting stick. 

You stride over to him and take the hot food from his outstretched hand. Sitting down next to him, your warm fingers graze his cold ones. Joel leans back, retreating a short distance. 

“Mmm, been a while since I’ve had rabbit,” you nod your head in thanks and plop the bite into your mouth. It burns your tongue for a moment, but you let it, imagining that it’s heating your entire body. 

“Can’t say the same,” he replies, then can’t help but ask: “Why’d you do it?” 

It’s been gnawing at him ever since. Joel’s concluded that you’re a good person. Too good, in fact, and you had your sister to think about. How could you put him - a random man - over your reliant sister? You were a walking dichotomy. Happy when this world is unhappy, kind when this world is unkind, trusting but alive.

“You were hungry,” you answer simply, shrugging. Humanity is rare now, and therefore precious. 

That doesn’t satisfy him in the least. “And you weren’t? And…” he doesn’t want to use Ellie’s name, it feels too friendly. “Your sister?” 

This time you turn your face to look up at him. He’s so much taller, so much larger than you, even sitting down. His chin is licked by the orange glow of the flames. The sun has started to rise over the mountain ridge behind him, recoloring his jacket from brown to gold. 

Apocalypse or not, he's fucking hot. You had the answer to your earlier thought. Dwindled pool of men? Who cares when he looks like that?

“We had food. I’d found a few houses a couple of days before and we still had, like, two or three granola bars and some berries.” You turn your face away to the view beyond your encampment. 

Joel blinks twice in disbelief. A couple goddamn granola bars?

“You need to be a better guardian,” he reprimands you.

Your head snaps to him, a look of shocked anger coloring your face. “What?” 

Joel looks down toward the valley where your eyes had been peacefully resting a moment earlier. “You can’t think about other people when you have her to worry about.” 

“I’ve kept us alive for almost a fucking decade, Joel. I know what to do.” You sneer his name and stand. 

“Listen, I appreciated it. You backin’ off the bunny. But I’m just saying, that girl’s gotta be your priority. You have to be your priority.” 

Joel doesn't know why he cares. Or at least, he wants to pretend that he doesn't know. He clamps his lips shut. 

“Thanks for the advice,” you say acidly, “I’d love to see you raise a kid through this.” 

You watch as his jaw ticks, as he looks away at your words, but you’re too angry to analyze that at the moment. 

“Teaching her that we can still be good people is almost as important as surviving. I don’t need to justify myself to you, but I'll warn you, in case you think you can take advantage of us: I’ve killed for her. I have done awful, horrible things. Things I see at night when I try to sleep. Things you’d probably be proud of.”

A statement meant to hurt him.

“But you go ahead and judge me from your fucking high horse.” 

Joel’s eyes never meet yours, but they involuntarily trail after you as you disappear into the tent, zipping it shut with as much violence as possible.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Joel doesn’t apologize. Neither one of you speaks during the trudge down into the valley. The silence is broken only by the breathing and grunting of descending a steep hill. You glance back at your little sister and she grins at you. The answer to Joel’s question was so obvious. How could you sink into despair when you had her? You answer her grin.

“Oh, good, I thought maybe I snored too loud or something.” 

You laugh, “What?”

“You’re acting all,” she scrunches her eyebrows, “pissed. I haven’t seen you this mad since that guy in Philadelphia last year.” 

“That guy was twice my age and I was downright angelic to him,” you grimace. 

“You never told me what he said about me,” she pushes. 

You stop and look at her, certain that Joel had kept walking. That was fine with you. He could keep going.

“What that motherfucker said was so vile, I’m not going to dirty my mouth by repeating it.” 

“Dude... you stabbed him in the balls. I saw that. So violence is fine for me to see, but I don’t get to know the dirty joke that made you mad?” Ellie asks, genuinely curious. 

Joel’s sonorous voice answers from right behind you, “Violence is necessary. The only reason we’re all still here. As a kid… no, you shouldn’t have to get used to it, but that’s not an option anymore. Perverts, you don’t have to get used to - so you shouldn’t.” 

Your head turns sharply to look at him, taken by surprise. He backed you up. His explanation isn’t entirely articulate, but Ellie seems to understand. It’s also the longest he’s spoken to her. He catches your eye briefly, then continues down the road. Ellie grabs for your hand.

What’s going on?

She mouths, seeing too much for your liking.

Nothing.

Your eyes are wide, convincing, as you reply. You once read that liars tend to make too much eye contact, or none at all. Looks like you’re the former.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

The ear-splitting crack of a firearm echoes through the sparse valley. Two dilapidated houses sit on either side: one next to the road and nearly destroyed by fire; the other, a pale blue, one-floor ranch style, sits on a steep incline slightly back from the road, and from its living room window comes the flash of a muzzle. 

There is no need to think. Your brain automatically identifies both the location of the shooter and your closest cover. Your hand clasps around Ellie’s wrist and you sprint to the right, up the burnt stone steps, and into the blackened house. 

Some timbers still stand, and some crumbling walls as well, but your goal is through what used to be the kitchen and down behind the back of the house’s foundation. As you skirt around a piece of drywall in the kitchen,  a bullet blasts into it, sending powder and small chunks into the air. 

A short scream escapes you in surprise, but you yank Ellie down the back steps and behind cover. Joel is there a heartbeat later, his weapon already in hand. He sits back against the concrete slab, his face alight with frustration.

“Damn,” you tell him like this is a minor inconvenience, though your heart is hammering like a carpenter. 

His eyes fall to the gun in your hand and a deep chasm appears between his eyebrows. No, you glance down, he wasn’t looking at your gun but at your arm. A red substance? Blood? 

Your head whips to your sister, but she’s looking at you with concern. Your head snaps back toward Joel. 

“I’m shot?” You ask breathlessly. Then - bless those adrenaline chemicals, they did their best - then, the pain waves over you, through you. Your arm burns as your nerve endings erupt. That piece of shit had shot you through the forearm. 

Joel examines the bloody mess, then his calloused hand rips a strip off his undershirt and loops it around your arm. You grind your teeth to bear the pain as he tightens the fabric, but darkness offers to take you away from it anyway. Joel ties it off and the darkness retreats.

The bullet’s path hadn’t gone through your arm but across it, cutting a gaping trench in your flesh. That’s good. No digging for gold necessary. The shots continue at a slower rate, intentionally keeping you three pinned down. 

“It’s not that bad,” Joel drops his head to steal your attention, his eyes intensely boring into yours. “Hey, listen. It’s not bad. Can you wiggle your fingers?”

You shake your head, eyes filling with tears before you even try, the pain so all-consuming. But your fingers curl when you command. 

“Guess so,” you groan.

“Right. Not that bad,” he cannot let you panic now. “You’re not a lefty, anyway. You can shoot?” 

Inhaling, you nod. Words were an unnecessary use of energy. His eyes continue pouring into your own for a moment, willing you strength.

“This is my valley!” A man’s booming voice announces. He sounds much closer than the seventy yards between the two houses. “We're not going to no concentration camps!”

Joel finally looks away from you and slowly raises his head over the edge of the concrete foundation. A tall man around Joel’s age stands in full view. Based on the man’s pronouncement, he doesn’t seem to have a complete grasp of reality. 

Joel thinks about answering. He thinks about telling the man that you three meant him no harm, that you were only passing through. Joel doesn’t feel like killing today. 

But then he looks down and his eyes snag on your face. He feels your pain, sees your terror, and it wrenches something loose in his chest. 

You’d done nothing wrong, you were innocent and this man just shot you. You could still die from an infection or blood loss. This man might’ve just killed you. Joel’s jaw sets so angrily that you hear his teeth grit. 

As his thoughts catch up with him, Joel’s rifle fires twice. One bullet tears through the shooter’s center of mass. Joel watches the man stumble, fall. If he strained his ears, he could probably hear the man’s last pained breaths. 

Instead, he stands and rushes through the burnt debris, taking shelter behind a small tree before deciding the shooter is alone. You call after him quietly, unhappy he went alone. He cautiously starts up the driveway. You groan in resolution as you force yourself to your feet. 

Heavily breathing, Joel kicks away the gun from the now-deceased man and busts through the ripped screen door. It’s incredibly dim, and the air is heavy. Bedsheets cover the windows and Joel’s eyes aren’t as young as they used to be. He notices the house is relatively clean. The baseboards are layered in dust, but there is a decent couch, blankets folded in a neat pile, and books neatly lined up on the shelf. Joel turns the corner to the hallway and, finding it clear, slowly treads down the carpeted path. 

The bathroom door creaks once as he pushes it open with his boot. A blue shag rug, gray walls, and a clean sink greet him, but his attention focuses on the medicine cabinet. He strides forward, his gun in one hand as he searches through the cabinet. 

Ibuprofen. Helpful.

Tums.

Nail clippers.

Saline solution. He snatches the clear bottle from its dusty place, a satisfied smirk.

Menstrual pads? Could be helpful if this fucker ain’t got a goddamn bandage. Er, maybe helpful anyway?

But then Joel sees the red cross. He picks up the white case, cracking it open just to check. Yep, bandages. You were going to need stitches, too. 

Needle an’ thread; he turns away from the cabinet.

“Joel?” You ask soberly, standing out of view beside the doorway. You didn’t want to startle him and have him shoot you, too. His stomach lurches at the tone of your voice. He chalks it up to you getting the drop on him. 

“Yeah. Y’alright?” His boots clomp to the doorway and he tilts his head down to see you in the gloom. 

“Did you check the whole house?” You’re staring at the last door on the right and Joel doesn’t wonder why. A notepad is strung up next to it, and a pen is taped to the wall. A list of times and dates is scrawled down the cover page, and instinctively you know that there are many pages similarly marked. 

“In the bathroom,” Joel indicates behind him with a commanding whisper.

“No, I’m here to cover you,” you look at him like he’s stupid. 

Course. The fuck’s wrong with me? Joel moves forward. 

You take a position diagonal to the door, your right hand directing your weapon while your left arm is cradled to your chest. You ignore the throbbing, biting pain as best you can, and what you can’t ignore, you hope sharpens your senses. 

Joel twists the knob and kicks the heavy, wood door open so violently that it nearly swings back on itself. His flashlight casts a ghostly white pall over the room. You see nothing but a dresser from your position, so you move forward, following Joel into the room. It’s a master bedroom. Spacious, dusty, cold. 

Tomb-like, you observe.

The body on the bed confirms your thought. Joel’s flashlight trains on the corpse, and it’s clear that it had been an infected woman. She’s been dead for several months, probably nearer years, as the fungus grows throughout the bedroom. You slowly back out of the room in horror. 

Your eyes catch on the paper hanging next to the door:

November 4th, 2009 - I couldn’t stay away. I’m not sure she’s gone.

November 5th, 2009 - I think she ate a little bit today. Fed her roast beef and mashed potatoes.

November 6th, 2009 - She smiled at me today. I’m so relieved.

On and on, this man had cataloged his descent into madness. Daily, he had been visiting his wife. Feeding her, hoping she’d heal from the infection and return to him. How had he not managed to get infected? Your stomach heaves. 

Joel appears and gently clutches the upper portion of your uninjured arm to haul you out of there. His fingers accidentally brush the side of your breast and Joel fights down the sick thrill he feels.

“C’mon.” 

He guides you to the front porch and sits you down on the steps. The body of the man next to your looks unbitten, uninfected. He must’ve kept her in that room alone until the infection killed her. 

The two of you take a moment to breathe in clean air. It’s quiet. The sun is hidden behind the clouds now which casts the valley in a gray shadow. Ellie pops her head up from across the road.

Standing over you, Joel can’t help but like the way you look up at him. His imagination takes him by surprise: your soft skin under his calloused hands, your legs hooked around his waist, and the way you might tell him his own name. 

Fuck, you’re as perverted as the guy she stabbed. Joel grumbles something unintelligible to you and heads back inside the house.

Ellie’s sneakers slap on the pavement as she runs up the driveway, “Oh, god, are you okay?”

You manage a smile, “Yeah. Don’t go in there, though. It was disgusting. Guy shat everywhere.”

“I mean your arm, dumbass.” 

“It’s not as bad as I thought it’d be,” you lie again. 

Joel, exiting the house with the medical supplies, hears your lies with satisfaction. Maybe his earlier words had been unnecessary. Ellie was lucky to have you.

“I need to get that wound cleaned out but it’s gonna hurt like hell,” he explains. “You sit behind her,” he suggests to your sister and she eagerly positions herself to support you. 

“This is helpful of you considering we’re just cargo,” Ellie mutters. 

Joel ignores her and addresses you, “’m serious, it’s gonna be a bitch.”

“You think I’m such a wimp,” you feign offense.

“No, I don’t,” Joel states, opening the bottle of saline. He unfastens the makeshift bandage made from his shirt and, without warning, pours some of the bottle’s contents onto your wound. 

A strangled howl escapes. You force your body to confront the pain, then try to accept it and lean into your sister. Your breathing is ragged. Ellie wraps an arm around your middle, comforting you with a squeeze. 

“’m gonna stitch you up now. You’re still losin’ blood. It’ll hurt.” His face drops to a thoughtful frown. “Might be better if you don’t fight it,” he advises, giving you permission to lose consciousness.

You clench your teeth in preparation. Your right hand grasps Ellie’s arm around your waist, and this time, Joel waits until you’re ready. You meet his dark eyes and nod. He carefully takes your elbow in his left hand. Then he pierces the needle through your skin. 

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

The pain in your arm has subsided to a constant throb as your body restores itself. The wound was deep and would eventually leave a thick white scar. But for now, you keep it clean with the saline Joel had found. 

Four more days pass, and in that time Ellie wears Joel down even further. On the rare occasion when you three had traveled down a freeway, Ellie rescued a tattered book full of jokes and puns from a vacant car. 

Having known the girl her entire life, you’re not sure you’d ever seen her as happy as she was now. The first day she found it, she must’ve read four full pages aloud. 

Joel had put a stop to that. 

You’re grateful to Joel for his presence, but her happiness outweighs his opinion, so you encourage her. Was Joel amused or irritated? It was hard to tell. Sometimes you were certain that he always felt them together.

“Knock knock.” 

You oblige, “Who's there?"

“Amish.” 

“Amish who?”

“Really? You don't look like a shoe.”

That one earns a snort from you. “Not your best work, El.”

She dives back into the book, trying to get away with one more for the day, “Joel, your turn.”

“No.”

“I found the perfect one, I swear,” Ellie promises.

“No.”

“Knock knock.”

Joel swivels his head to glare at her. 

“C’mon, Joel,” she pleads. “Knock, knock.” He doesn’t budge.

“Who’s there?” You undermine the stoic man, smirking.

Ellie bites her lip to prevent her laughter, “Cargo!”

Joel makes a disbelieving scoff, “Wow.”

You snicker, enjoying Joel’s defeated face before you continue the joke: “Cargo who?” 

“No, car go ‘beep beep’.” Ellie delivers the lame punchline with gusto. 

Joel sets his hands on his hips and stares at the ground. He fights the tug of his cheek, then, in a moment that cements Joel in your heart, he shakes his head and huffs one, tiny laugh. 

"That was so fuckin' stupid."

“Ha!” Ellie whoops victoriously, a sound so pure that you start to laugh with her. “I told you.” 

Joel shakes his head more fervently. “I didn’t laugh. I snorted.”

“Same shit,” she retorts, still grinning.

“You get two of those a day, kid.” Joel holds up two fingers and resumes his path. 

          ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Two weeks after meeting Joel, or, if you went by Ellie’s timeline, ten chapters in her book later, the sound of the ocean fills your ears. Crossing the flat farmland of the piedmont was the worst part of the journey as there had been no landmarks, no wind, and scarce game. 

Now, there's a breeze you’ve never felt before. Your senses are full of the smell of salt, the whooping call of the few remaining gulls, and the clouds flitting by as though they have places to be. Your and Ellie’s wonder at the coast was not lost on Joel. He, too, feels lighter for the soaring sensation of the oceanside.

Ellie sits on a bench outside of an old tattoo shop. Your eyes scan the storefronts along the abandoned beachside tourist trap. This wasn’t a huge area. Probably a spot that only the locals came to, which is why the souvenir shops looked like they’d dried up several years before the outbreak. 

Joel has the map fully unfolded on the hood of a car. His palms are flat on either side of the document as he hunches over it, fully engrossed in determining the exact location he was supposed to find; and while he’s distracted, you are on high alert. 

In the best-case scenario, there are decent people waiting for you. At worst, there were infected around. Either way, you needed to be looking out for other bipeds. 

To Joel’s consternation, you weren’t seeing anything except old blockades, boarded-up windows, and trash that had yet to decompose blowing down the ghostly street. 

“Think there’s any decent food leftover in those restaurants?” Ellie asks having never eaten seafood.

“That would be a no,” you chuckle. “Seafood doesn’t keep long. And it stinks.”

“It kinda stinks out here sometimes,” Ellie observes.

“That would be what they make seafood out of,” Joel pipes up for the first time since breakfast, unintentionally mimicking your words.

“That’s what fish smells like?” Ellie’s eyes bug out of her head. “People ate that?” 

“So, their camp, settlement, compound - whatever the fuck it is - is at the end of this town. ‘Bout two miles that way,” Joel tilts his head. 

“So, go east more?” You joke. “When do we get to see a different needle on the compass?”

Joel bites the inside of his cheek, refusing you the satisfaction of a smile. “When we split up, I guess.” 

Joel pretends not to notice when both of your faces steel shut at his words. Better to let you two live your life somewhere safe where someone decent will watch your backs. It’d be best for all of you. He turns back to his map, pushing the two of you from his mind; he stares at the circled location trying to decipher what his brother would be doing here. 

  ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

There’s nothing here. A day later, you’ve explored the length and breadth of the beachside town. There are no signs, no maintained fortifications, and no people. At one point there had been, though. Some walls had been erected between a few alleyways, creating a warren-like hideout. But they were empty. Joel had grown increasingly angry as the search went on. No one spoke. 

The discovery (or lack thereof) was disappointing for you and Ellie, but devastating to Joel; he went missing for most of the afternoon, returning just before sunset. Curiously, he seemed to be in a better mood.

After ensuring that no one had overlooked anything, you and Ellie follow Joel out onto the sand behind an ice cream shop. Ellie wouldn’t have mentioned it for a while to be mature, but she’d been dying to see the actual beach all day long. 

Joel sits on the soft, clean sand. A dune covered in beachgrass at his back, he relaxes. Clouds float by, and though it’s mostly sunny, the winter air is chilled further by the steady wind. Ellie continues out to the water, while you stand next to Joel. Thinking only of body heat, you lower yourself onto the sand as close to Joel as you dare.

“I’m sorry.” 

It feels inadequate. There are only a handful of reasons Joel’s brother wouldn’t be here and only one is hopeful.

“All this way. Two weeks of walkin’, and now I’m gonna have to go back out there,” Joel grumbles. 

Oh, okay. Optimism? He clearly wasn’t giving in to the idea that his brother could be dead, which relieves you. 

“Well, I’m sure you’ll find him. You’re the type of person who finds what he’s looking for,” you smile fondly at him. 

Joel’s heart spasms again. He wishes you’d stop smiling at him, and at the same time, he wishes you’d only ever smile at him. 

“Is our deal over?” He wonders. He hadn’t fulfilled his end yet, but the way you were talking made it seem like your partnership had ended.

“I’m not going to make you drag us cargo all over the United States.”

Joel smirks. “Technically, I ain't held up my end.”

“You and your technicalities. Technically,” you mock him, “I owe you. You’ve saved my ass twice now.”

“First time doesn’t count. I got you into that,” Joel actually laughs this time. It’s short and low, but you’re suddenly out of breath. His cheeks and eyes wrinkle when he grins, and he catches you staring. His grin fades.

A gust of icy wind blows by as you hide down in your thick flannel. You turn your attention from the captivating older man beside you to watch Ellie trying to skip rocks into the waves. She notices you and holds up both hands in a “What?” gesture. 

You shake your head and chuckle at her.

“She’s a good kid,” Joel agrees. 

Would this man ever cease to surprise you? He’s just spent two weeks walking and being tortured by Ellie’s joke book, with a single goal in mind - only to find the goalpost has moved; and he’s being friendly? 

“I’m pretty fond of her,” you reply. 

A lull in the conversation leads to a comfortable silence as you enjoy the sea air. 

Eventually, Joel speaks again. “’m sorry I said those things. It wasn’t my place.” Joel is turned away from you, looking out over the waves.

Though it’s been almost two weeks, you know which words he means. “I know I seem silly to you. Too frivolous and… optimistic, I guess, but I have and will always put her first.” 

Joel doesn’t reply. He’s tempted to deny your first and second statements, but he feels too exposed already. For fuck’s sake, he had been almost sad about the prospect of going your separate ways.

“Guess I’m easily pleased,” you muse.

“What?” Joel doesn’t know how to take that, but he knows the way he wants to take it.

“You know. The meaning of life and shit?” You wave your hand to indicate everything.

“Oh. Did you two plan this?”

“We - what?” 

“Ellie gave me a spiel earlier ‘bout how we need to find reasons to keep going or fightin’ or whatever the hell she said.” 

“She did?” you laugh. “I taught her well. I mean, what’s the point of this? Just surviving? Eating your next meal? Creating power-squabbling communities that end up getting people killed? Ration cards in the QZs? That sucks.”

Joel looks into the sand as if it has the answer. “I think most people lost their reasons a long time ago.” 

And you’re still staring at him as he checks his watch. His old, busted wristwatch that’s been telling only one time for eight years. 

“Yes, you’re right,” you agree, “but there are always other reasons. Sometimes it’s a bunch of small reasons combined with big ones, like the beauty of the earth and my sister for me. Or sunrises, or,” you indicate the waves rolling in front of you. “But there are always reasons. You find them if you look.” 

Taking more bravery than the first time you met an infected, you place your hand on Joel’s wrist, letting your thumb stroke once over his skin. He’s as warm as you hoped, and it makes you want to cry. You knew Joel’s coldness was a front. It’s his defense. 

Joel becomes a statue. It’s the first time you’ve touched him and his first thought is that he’s glad he took his jacket off. His second thought is that you should not feel so comfortable with him. You both needed to be able to separate without lingering emotion.

But, damn, this is like starin’ at the sun. Even when I look away I see her.

“Sorry.”

You remove your hand, not wanting to cause him distress.

“Ellie is right. People need reasons to continue fighting. Otherwise, you end up fighting for the wrong things, or giving up.”  

“You two are gonna love my brother - sound jus’ like him.” 

He earns another laugh from you. “Your brother sounds like a good guy.”

“He’s nothin’ like me,” Joel snorts good-naturedly.

“Well,” you murmur, “that’s not a point in his favor.” 

Joel hums in his chest. “Mm. It’s not?” 

Maybe lettin’ go once wouldn’t be so bad. She’s so... so - Joel realizes he’d leaned into you at some point. 

Your face bravely tilts up to study Joel’s reaction when you shyly shake your head. 

In disbelief, you watch as Joel’s eyes fall to your lips. Your heart pounds in your throat. His side is touching yours now and the contact radiates heat throughout your body. The world could end a second time and you wouldn’t notice. 

“I think it’s been too long since you’ve known a good man, because I sure ain't the standard,” Joel’s warning is coated in his thick accent. 

“I know a good man when I see one. That’s why I gave him my rabbit,” your voice is barely above a whisper, but Joel is so focused on you that he catches every inflection. 

“Hey, I’m hungry.” A teenager’s voice cuts the tension between you and Joel like a scythe. 

Both of you jump, heads jerking up to see Ellie standing much closer than you thought. 

“Um, I think Joel found some edible stuff from a general store.” You unwillingly turn back to him, “Is there enough to split? If not, I’ll take her foraging.” 

Joel’s looking out across the ocean again, refusing to meet your eyes. “Yeah. Yeah, there’s plenty.” 

Too close. Get a fuckin' grip. Joel watches you stand and walk Ellie back to the store you’d set camp in. He can’t help but watch as you walk away.

Wouldn’t be a one-time thing. I’d never leave. 

You think he’s a good man. Is it your naivety? Or do you mean that in spite of everything you can assume he’s done, he’s still capable of good?

Doesn’t matter. Doesn’t matter. 

Joel rips himself away from his daydream and from his pocket, he pulls the piece of paper he found earlier. Written in the NATO phonetic alphabet leftover from Tommy’s military days, the note is directed at Joel. Tommy’s handwriting is cramped and terrible, and it makes Joel grin.

If, by some crazy chance you’re reading this, J, we left. Sorry. Got wind of a group in WY that’s doing some real good. Leaving this note as a long shot. Miss you, man. 

™

He had found it in the store Tommy knew Joel couldn’t pass up. It was a cramped music store featuring acoustic guitars in the window. The shop set back a little from the main thoroughfare which kept it mostly untouched. The note had been taped to a guitar just like the one Joel owned a decade ago. 

It’d been eight years since Joel had cried, and he wouldn’t now, either, but he felt a sting. Wyoming is a long fuckin’ way. He felt frustrated at having walked for two weeks in the wrong direction. A brief, petty thought to abandon his goal of finding his brother crossed his mind - but it was one born of exhaustion and anger. 

The map he carried was an East Coast map. He’d have to find a map of the country, but by his estimation, he was in for a two-month walk minimum. A list of supplies began scrolling in his head, and he itemized everything.

The southeast had been less plundered than the rest of the US, so it’d be worth it to scour the outdoor supply places. Grocery stores were all but ransacked instantly, so he’d be less inclined to check those unless one seemed particularly promising.

You and Ellie. He swallows. He hadn’t forgotten - just had been avoiding it. Should he ask? You always had the opportunity to part ways at any moment, but did he dare extend the offer? 

Two months of puns from the kid. Two months of sufferin’ them as cargo. He looks at his hands to distract himself from a smirk.

More mouths to feed. It’d be nice not to be alone. He pushes this thought away in search of one he can work with.

More eyes, more hands. The older sister’s smart. And brave. She doesn’t even complain about her arm. And the kid… Kid’s a flat-out liability but she’s got her own charm.

Joel quiets his mind and lists the pros and cons. He makes his decision.

Continue->

[wisteria-blooms]

⭐️

Reblog this if you want readers to come into your ask box and ask for the “director’s commentary” on a particular story, section of a story, or set of lines.  Or, send in a ⭐star⭐  to have the author select a section they’ve been dying to talk about!

Okay, so bear with me as I type this half-asleep...

long hair & tattoos (lh&t as someone kindly abbreviated; I love it!!) is obviously my baby or my first-born child, if you will. Obviously, the tropes aren't original, but it was my fake-dating template for sunburns & dragons (let's call that sb&d). You'll see the chapters mirror each other. For example:

Chapter 1: The dinner

Chapter 2: Talking to Fred/George

Chapter 3: Meeting Bill/Charlie

Chapter 4: Making plans

Chapter 5: Meeting the parents

Chapter 6: An argument with the parents

Chapter 7: Talks about moving in together...

Okay, so I want to talk about the moving in part. I don't think I'm any sort of expert on Bill and Charlie's characters nor could I give good advice on how to write them, but I tried to make the distinct in the same situations.

Bill (lh&t) (Chapter 7):

“I don’t mind it, really,” Bill responded. It seemed like he’d been thinking about what happened at dinner, too. “If the penthouse is as big as your father says it is, then we could both live there without issue. We might not even see each other.”

“I’ll use the money to rent elsewhere,” you suggested. “It’d look suspicious if you rented under your name. Your father would find out.” You wracked your brain for another option. “Then I’ll take your flat.” “I don’t know if the owners will be so happy after I announce the termination. And even then, there’d be a place under my name and yours.”

At the end of the chapter, Bill accepts (Y/N)'s offering of the penthouse. I actually had a bout of amnesia and forgot that he offered to share it with her, and shot down her suggestions because they'd be risky. To me, it shows that he wouldn't mind living with her, and she doesn't deserve not to live there. But there's a more.... rational and refined side to him that tells him it wouldn't be a great idea. Real people having real feelings. Things could get tangled and messy. At this point of the story, he doesn't have any romantic feelings for her, but knows something could happen and someone could get hurt. That's why he stays on the down low for the next couple weeks. (Aside: he starts thinking more about (Y/N) in Chapter 8 after seeing her at the family dinner).

vs. Charlie (sb&d) (Chapter 7):

“Swimming in luxury and eating fondue on quartz countertops, indulging in vintage wines while I’m wedged in between my two loudest and most annoying brothers on a bed that can barely support my weight,” Charlie wallowed in self-pity, punctuating his remarks with a long sigh. “The universe really chooses favourites.” A crescent of sweat grazed your neck, outlining your sweater, at what you were about to say. Feeling your guilt implode, you blurted out: “You can stay over if you need."

“You have to get the unit first before dreaming about living with me,” Charlie teased, emphasising the word ‘me’ by pointing at himself, and subsequently, ricocheting your lack of faith against you.

Charlie wouldn't have cared if (Y/N) had asked him to move in with her, but since she did, he definitely doesn't mind sharing a space with her. At this point, Charlie has no romantic feelings for (Y/N), but has been extremely flirtatious. (Y/N) soon realizes she has to be careful around him (like, is what he's saying real or just something to make me feel good?). Charlie, unlike Bill, hasn't thought about the weight he's putting on (Y/N) and the repercussions. He's used to being friends with woman, flirting as he likes, and not expecting any sort of commitment. Having a roommate - someone to hang out and cook with - is just fun.

That's why I say Bill knows what he wants, Charlie "dillydallies" a lot more. But will that change? We'll find out in a couple of chapters.

Anyway, that's my director's cut. Let me know if there's anything else I can explain!!

[luna-3-clips]

What I think each characters sexuality's are and why

(I'm taking another small break from the basic info. series but it's almost finished, I have 12 characters I still wanna do, and I can do any others if you guys want)

Straight:

Jingo Raichi - I can't really see him liking guys or anyone else other than girls, but he would be hella supportive. He's that friend on pride month who would wear a rainbow flag or put one outside his house just because at least one of his friends is part of the LBGTQ+ community.

Yudai Imamura - He's a playboy, I don't know what you expect. But he isn't homophobic and he acts VERY gay, even though he's not.

Okuhito Iemon - I can only picture him liking girls, although he would be supportive of the community. He's like the dad friend of the friend group so he wouldn't care who you like as long as his friends are happy, then he's happy.

Keisuke Wanima (Younger) - He's definitely not part of the community, and he might not show it, but inside I can picture him being a bit homophobic, but he wouldn't show it since his own twin is part of it (maybe, who knows? *wink wink*).

Zantetsu Tsurugi - He doesn't know what the LGBTQ+ community is, but once he found out he was like: "That's cool, but I only see guys as bros, nothing more." He would be sweet about his reaction but I but dumbfounded since he's still new to the whole thing.

Rin Itoshi - He is not part of the community, but he supports it since his brother and his enemy.... (only for his brother, not his enemy *a lil bit of a spoiler*).

Adam Blake - He looks straight (to me). He is straight. Periodt.

Anri Teieri - (Sadly) I can picture her being straight, but she supports it. [Quick lil headcanon: I can imagine Anri (even without being told) putting up rainbow flags around the Blue Lock facility during pride month.]

Jinpachi Ego - I cannot for the life of me picture his as part of the community. Although, he would be the type of person to act homophobic "Because love gets in the way of your performance" but on the inside he would be supportive.

Oliver Aiku - He would be that friend that acts hella gay even though he's the straightest friend in the group.

Mark Snuffy - I can't see him being part of the community, he's supportive though.

Don Lorenzo - Again, I can't see him being part of the community.

Issei and Iyo Isagi - I can't see them being LGBTQ+, but they'd be supportive.

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

Bisexual:

Yoichi Isagi - He most definitely likes guys, but he likes girls too but he hasn't seen one in a while (besides Anri) so he's grown attracted to some of the guys.. *Cough cough* Kaiser *Cough cough*

Rensuke Kunigami - I can't really explain it.. he just is..

Asahi Naruhaya - He acts homophobic, but in reality he's bi as fuck.

Ryosuke Kira - Is it just me, or does he look it?

Junichi Wanima (Older) - It's like a one sided love with him and Chigiri, he acts like he hates him but he actually likes him.

Aoshi Tokimitsu - He's had a crush on a few guys before but was always too scared to come out since he was afraid of what everyone would think.

Jin Kiyora - He kinda just screams bisexual, I don't know why though..

Ranze Kurona - He definitely likes Isagi...

Eita Otoya - He acts like he's straight, but he has a crush on Karasu.

Leonardo Luna - I can fully picture him being bisexual, he's definitely liked guys in the past.

Julian Loki - I dunno why, but he just screams bi...

Shuto Sendo - He most acts as straight as he can to try not to be suspicious, but he's actually bisexual (but for who?).

Sae Itoshi - Have you seen the way he talks to Shido? He still likes girls though, but the public doesn't need to know about him and Shido.

Alexis Ness - *Cough* Kaiser *Cough* Sorry, I think I had something in my throat. Oh, what's he doing here? He's supposed to be in the straight section...

Chris Prince - He likes Noa, but he's only told one person which is Yukimiya.

Noel Noa - He's had crushes on guys in the past. (And maybe he likes one now?)

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

Gay/Lesbian:

Wataru Kuon - He tried to get to know Team W after making the deal with them and he succeeded but it wasn't for long since he remembered he had a team meeting with Team Z.

Ikki Niko - I think he would be gay, and he looks like he has a thing for sweaty men.

Seishiro Nagi - It's "too much of a hassle" to say he likes Reo so he says he's gay and it's the end of the conversation no matter who he's talking to.

Kenyu Yukimiya - This could just be me, but he looks gay. Is that just me?

Nijiro Nanase - Nijiro in Japanese means 'Rainbow', take that however you like.

Ryusei Shido - I don't even need to explain.

Yo Hiori - I don't know why, but I can see him being gay.

Dada Silva - Brazilian Baller, c'mon now, just that name alone sounds gay as fuck (my opinion).

Pablo Cavazos - Just take a look at him, he's cute, but I see him as gay.

Michael Kaiser - Have you seen how he acts with Isagi?

Lavinho - Noel Noa, end of discussion.

Yu Bachira - She gives off Lesian/Pansexual vibes, I don't know why...

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

Pansexual:

Meguru Bachira - Meguru Bachira in Japanese means 'tour flyer', the tour is around all the different people and he's just the representation of it.

Reo Mikage - He likes everyone and anyone, unless you steal his 'treasure' from him, then he doesn't like you.

Jyubei Aryu - Anyone who's 'glam' or 'has styl(e)' is amazing in his eyes.

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

Transgender: (I know you can be trans and gay/bi/etc.. but out of laziness I'm only putting each character in one category)

Gin Gagamaru - I can see him being trans.... somehow I can..

Hyoma Chigiri - He's either trans or girly pop.

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

Questioning:

Gurimu Igarashi - He was raised to like girls and only girls, but upon entering Blue Lock he started developing feelings for one of the players. Now he's trying to figure out his sexuality as well as his true feelings and whether or not he should listen to his parents and the other monks. (I feel like I just wrote a story summary, but I would read that story ngl.)

Shoei Baro - He's had little to no experience in love, and he knows what the LGBTQ+ community is, but he's unsure if he's part of it or not.

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

Keep in mind that this is my personal opinion and none of it (at least that I know of) is canon and actually happened.

That's all, have a good day/night!

[yuriyuruandyuraart]

Opinions on Dream? :^

SO many feelings about him omgg rant under cut please forgive me

okay so i don't really talk or draw him much cause honestly,,,most of the times i just think he's a bit....boring? or more accurately plain? not in a mean way either but just in a 'fades into the background' type of way like don't get me wrong!! he's a really nice friend to his peers, his feelings about his powers and aura making his relationships harder to navigate and trust along with his whole conflict with nightmare and morality about what's good and bad IS very cool!! and i love it whenever they write him to be complex and not on this black and white mentality or when he's just straight up following along his friends with no free will or with a dubious purpose without ever addressing his issues or feelings! it's just unsatisfying to me :')

or when they're making him the 'naive' and oblivious, (sometimes childish?) character being marked as the obstacle and villain along with the other star sanses from the fic's pov, always talking about doing good things while fighting his brother and not hearing him out about the balance, (and for weak reasons most of the time. like it's been so long and you STILL haven't sat down with him when he's, generally, basically begged you to just have a talk? guys please :'( ) or when they go for the victim sad dream always missing the old nightmare, where corrupted nightmare is the incarnation of evil, with no sympathy or emotion except anger and sadistic glee, killing and hurting everyone and dream's just trying to protect the multiverse and dream's always been in the right. such extremes!!!

LIKE!! i hope i'm not the only one that thinks a 500+ year old should have had enough time to idk. learn things? about people and manipulation and deceit? after knowing what the villagers did to night? about the bad things in the world and how there's a lot of grey areas in life and that he maybe reflected on his past enough to process and ask himself if there should to be a convo to settle his differences with nightmare (and you can make nightmare the stubborn one too! or have them BOTH be petty and imperfect and have some things wrong and some right at the same time like why do i always see the good guy vs bad guy cliché with these two when they're the perfect example of why positivity doesn't have meaning without the negativity!! as long as there's a satisfying evolution or growth that doesn't leave me empty i'm good yknow?)

plus i believe dream really isn't as dumb as people view him. i do get some of you saying he probably can't read or write since that's actually a pretty interesting idea to explore! but in general please let him have emotions other than pure sunshiny happiness or endless sadness like he's gotta have more depth than that! let him make mistakes, have flaws that don't just make him the bad guy that's always in the wrong by default, and be angry or suspicious or jealous or bitter or battling his mental health problems/depression or malicious or smart or witty or mischievous and silly or sarcastic or ANYTHING dude i just want him to be put into different scenarios where he can be serious or lighthearted like it doesn't even have to be long or perfect but make him feel real.

it could definitely be that i don't read or see much art about dream or really look for it hard enough but also i just. i feel bad for even saying this fr and i wanna be honest about why i don't enjoy most stories about him cause he always gets the worst treatment along with ink!!! especially ink omg the poor guy has it the worst i think like wow do they mess him up :'(

always one dimensional in non shippy fics, or too plain or easily replaceable by other, more entertaining people in the significant other's life in most of his ships like man. i have read fics out there that made me genuinely FEEL and root for him and love his character so much it restored all hope for me!!! but i can only name one on top of my head and the others? it's been so long i don't even remember their names i just legit feel terrible cause i love him still and i can't find many headcanons that fit my interpretation of him yknow?

not to say people who write him very happy, mislead or sad are ruining him like that's silly- if i see something i don't like i just. move on bro i wouldn't force people to feel or think the same way i do about him cause anyone can have whatever headcanons they want!!! just talking about what i personally look for in him and why i can't exactly find it since most of the stuff out there just isn't my cup of tea :')

hopefully i didn't set anyone off with this rambling opinionated essay i just pulled hhh xD i know i know he's a popular character and i know a lot of people like dream so *sobs* please please recommend me artists and fics about him that you think is good it's been so looong since i've read or seen anything new that makes me attached to this little guy aughg<33333

[mindful-ss]

Misfits

Chapter 2: The connection to all life forms

Dakarai

It starts off with Dakarai at the age of 4 years old then to 6 years old

….

….

….

….

….

“Dakarai come down here and clean this mess immediately!” Milan says angrily looking at the toddlers drawing on the floor, Dakarai looks down the stairs “do you not like my drawing mommy?” Dakarai asked curiously, she sighs "I love it Dakarai but I just think it shouldn't be....on our kitchen floor" she looks up at him and giggles "Yeah maybe your right mommy" he runs down stairs to clean the mess on the kitchen floor " maybe we can make a picture together on paper and frame it sweetheart?" she asked sweetly, " yes mommy I think that's the best idea ever" he turns and starts jumping up and down smiling widely.

She giggled and walked to the dishes "well after your done cleaning we can make our beautiful painting or drawing".

She then heard a knock at the door " coming!!" she yelled across the room walking towards the door opening it to see her husband Jordan and Dakarai best friend Jiro "hey baby your back finally" she had grin on her face leaning against the doorway "sorry for taking too long I had to pick up Jiro first and then we went shopping for a Gift for Dakarai and his Birthday cake" he chuckled looking nervous while walking into the house with a bunch of bags " hello Ms Celine" Jiro smiled and waved at Milan "hey Jiro you look even more pretty than usual" Milan Giggled welcoming her in.

"Hey Jordan I gotta talk to you for a second" she motioned Jordan over to her " what is it baby?" he asked curiously " I'm worried, not just for our job I'm worried for our family" she said worriedly "baby what's wrong?" he asked worriedly yet sternly "I had a vision while I was sleeping about the future about..." she stops for a second" Dakarai's powers" she whispers. Jordan's eyes widened "it showed some soldiers busting into our house taking Jiro and Dakarai and killing us in the process..." they stay slient for a moment "when does it happen?" he asks " I don't know" Milan says sadly "we have to tell Akari just in case anything happens" Jordan tells Milan and she nods then leaving to set up for Dakarai's Birthday party.

the next night..

It was just Milan, Jordan, Jiro, some other family members including Jordan's older brother and mother, and Dakarai of course, They were beginning to sing Happy birthday and Dakarai was smiling giggling. "How old~ are you?"they sang peacefully "five!". They finish up singing and serving cake and began to eat cake icecream, and dinner. "Jordan I wondering this for a while how did you have Dakarai? Milan never got pregnant before" Jordan's brother Mason grins mischievously "well...he was adopt of course isn't that right Dakarai" Jordan says while looking at his brother slightly mad "yes daddy" Milan starts to get suspicious "why are you so curious Mason? Is it because you can't have kids yourself because of a certain..." she looks down at his pants "...reason?' she looks at him mischievously, mason chuckles "no I was just wondering because since you adopted him I wonder what adoption center you got him from" he leans in the table pushing his food aside looking at the couple "what type of question is that?" Jordan says looking at his brother suspiciously.

"why can't you answer the question dear baby brother" Mason smiles "why do you have to know so badly" they stare down at each other " I just might want child for myself of...." he scoffed "...special abilities" Jordan and Milans eyes widen " what is mason talking about Jordan???" his mother asked Jordan didn't even hear his mother speaking to him he was just filled with rage "What the fuck do you know mason" he shouted Jiro and Dakarai flinch a bit when Jordan slammed his hands on the table "why so hostile baby brother" Mason continues to smile mischievously " you always have something scheming under your fucking nose and if it is that were not doing this shit on my son's Birthday party" Jordan points at him, Dakarai started to feel a strange surge of energy course through his body. "What fucking special abilities are you fucking talking about Mason" Milan shouts across the table "you exactly what abilities I'm talking" he stares through Milan's eyes.

Jordan started to think "no he couldn't know about Dakarai's powers and his relationship with Akari....could he?" Then a sudden burst of energy came from Dakarai's cry "STOP!!!" he blasts everyone back and flipping the table over as the tears fall down his cheeks as he look down at his glowing hands breathing fast and then run up stairs "Dakarai!" Milan shouted for him "I guess I was right about your "son" he does have a connection with Akari doesn't he?" he began to walk out the broken wall smiling proudly about this information.Milan dropped to her knees crying and Jiro rushes over to care to her.

1 year later

Dakarai wouldn't speak to his parents unless he needs to do his chores but Jordan got irritated of his son's attitude and confronted his son "I'm sick of how your acting why can't you tell us about your feelings?" he asked curiously "you hid from me that I have powers and maybe even hiding even stuff from me and I can't even trust you at all where did you even actually find me? who is my actual family?" Dakarai asked worriedly, before Jordan could even speak he heard helicopters and cars outside there apartment "um Jordan I think we have company" Milan says looking out the window staring at the menacing leader of the Mysterious group "and the man in the Grey and black suit looks strangely familiar" she says looking deeper into his Details.

"Dakarai go hide in your room now!!!" Jordan demanded, Dakarai ran up the stairs hiding on the stairs so they don't see him listening.

The man of the team busts through the door "Long time no see Milan" he said with a emotionless face, "wait...Father?" she stood there in shock "I though I killed you all those years ago" she screamed at him tears falling down her cheeks "well you can't kill a high mage that easily" He chuckled and grinned, "anyways lets get to business, your dear brother mason told me that you were hiding Empress Akari's little brother here and I should I say I'm surprised that you took a parental role just to hide him" He smirked "that bitch snitched us out?!" Jordan screamed angrily, "snitched? no he was telling me useful information since he works for me and all" he sat on the couch "so what do you say either I kill you both and take Dakarai or...I can leave you both alive and take him" he said,"you really think I'm gonna give up my son that easily to a monster like you?" Milan said amusedly "think again..." she ran up on her father trying to land on punch on him but he stops her and Jordan with his telepathy "even if your the new high mage doesn't mean you can beat me now?" he laughed at her "now sweetheart give me Dakarai" he looked at her in the face ready to kill her and Jordan

"No never you bitch!" she exclaimed while trying to escape "Well then... I guess this is goodbye" before he could snap both there necks off Dakarai ran into the room with all his strength and energy to form a powerful blast "no!" Dakarai screamed blasting his Grandfather but misses "that was really cute there but its not enough" then Dakarai got blasted back into the wall watching his parents be brutally murder "No!" he screamed while having tears in his eyes crawling next to his parents dead bodies "no no no don't leave me please!" he begged holding there hands crying "don't cry little one we took your vampire friend Jiro as well so your not alone" then he took Dakarai's hand dragging him out of the destroyed apartment building looking at the death and destruction because of him.

"Dont worry you will love your new home at Dr leviathan's lab" he then threw Dakarai in the back of the van "see you later dear grandson" slamming the doors shut.

Dakarai looked over next to him to see Jiro knocked out on the floor going towards her to hold her hand, "don't worry Jiro I'll get us out of here" he said while sniffling and letting tears roll down

"soon...."

[fearlessdevil17]

What is your headcanon for Edge's relationship with each Crewmember of the Galaxy's mightiest heroes? In exchange, I will tell you mine!

See ya tomorrow!!! I need sleep, I am from a different timezone, in Europe...I will see you soon!!!

:0

*Cracks Knuckles*

Thank you for giving me this question, i'm so happy to share this!!

sorry for the late response :(

could never figure out how to put it in words XP!!!

with that said

Let's get started:

Mario:

I think that Mario would - at first - be the least trusting of Edge, after all, when they first met, she just showed up out of nowhere, she refused to talk about her origin, and he had no idea what her motives were, so he mainly kept a close eye on her in order to catch her doing something suspicious.

Edge was aware of his suspicion during their first meeting, although she did come up with clever lies as to where she came from, it was clear that Mario didn't believe her.

Despite that, they did have respect for each other. With Mario, seeing how skilled of a fighter Edge was, all while helping out Sparks in the process, and Edge, seeing how responsible of a leader Mario was, as well as a kind hearted gentleman.

Eventually he would warm up to her after having a few lighthearted conversations with her, and seeing how much a big softie she was to the Sparks, finally lowering his guard around her, and accepting her as a friend.

It's no secret as to how protective Mario can get - don't let his outgoing and goofy personality fool you - this man will destroy you if you try to harm those he cares about.

While Luigi is his main priority when it comes to being a big brother, he's no stranger to being a brother figure towards his companions, especially when learning what they went through before meeting him. so when he found about Edge's backstory......OH BOY!! Big brother mode activated almost faster than Toads discriminating Luigi (RIP to those Toads btw)

Since Edge never had someone in her life she could to look up too, Mario being this sibling/parental figure towards her was all so new to her, so she didn't know how to properly react. but Mario made sure to take it slow and let it sink in for a bit.

Edge is one of the many few companions of Mario's that didn't go out in a blaze of glory, which Mario was thankful for, he couldn't bare the thought of losing another friend. so Cursa was defeated, Mario would take the time to help Edge with any lingering doubts that she might still have, making her more and more relaxed with her surroundings

Luigi:

knowing Luigi, he would defiantly be weary of Edge during the first meeting, but he doesn't like making assumptions of anyone, no matter how intimidating they looked, still he mostly kept his distance from her, observing her from afar (he's also canonically uncomfortable around swords, so yeah, there's that too)

despite that, he does try to be friendly with her, helping her out in some missions, and covering her during battles. this was when he started to notice that Edge was not as scary as she seemed. even seeing that the Sparks loved hanging around her.

While a huge softie for the Sparks, Edge also has a soft side for people who are shy or sensitive, so when she noticed Luigi's weariness of her, she reassured him that she understands why he acting this way, but is not someone that goes all willy nilly with a weapon in hand, making him comfortable enough to be around her.

Luigi was the second out of the group to quickly form a friendship with Edge (i'm still sticking with my Edge being made with some of Luigi's DNA theory, plus i do think they would get along pretty quickly, Luigi's never been the type to get on peoples bad side after all)

Edge also tends to be a bit protective over the said personality traits, one time, the crew saved a toad that basically chastised everyone (even Peach) for not saving him sooner (toad karen anyone), but just when Mario was about to defend Luigi when the toad went after him, Edge quickly spoke up first, much to Mario's delight.

after learning about her past, Luigi would notice that Edge would start to grow insecure about the scars that came with it, so he would try to make her feel better by sharing his stories of enemies he had to face on his own, even telling her about the times he's been possessed, leaving behind some nasty scars in the process. while he didn't like talking about it, it did help Edge open up a bit more, The two grew closer after that (ah yes, bonding over traumatic experiences, what fun)

After Cursa's defeat, Luigi would try to introduce Edge to his set of friends. like Polterpup, Daisy, Peasly, E gadd, etc.

their would even be a time where he would take her to Flipside to allow her to meet O'chunks, Mimi, and Nastsasia.

(i know that the paper mario series is obviously meant to be a paper universe, but in my head, it's not, all the games take place in the same universe, meaning yes, i don't see paper jam as canon, go ahead and fight me on that if you want)

thinking about all the people she had met, Edge would feel ready to make up with her old friends, asking Luigi if he could help, the two would try to come up with ways to contacted them and track them down. (to which, they do succeed)

Peach:

This one i think i love the most. Peach has already taken in a bunch of harmless Rabbids, now becoming a part of her kingdom and her people, the Rabbids adore her just as much as the toads, and has basically became a sort of mother figure towards them.

Edge has never met a royal before, so meeting Peach was actually a little nerve racking for her. but Peach treated her no differently compared to the Rabbids in her kingdom.

she was the first to see that Edge had a kind heart with a balanced goal to go with it. her protectiveness over the Sparks really warmed Peach's heart. plus, seeing Edge's swordsmen skills reminded Peach of her own combat skills. she and Edge would most likely exchange skill tricks with one another.

Edge is mostly formal with Peach, calling her by the royal names such as Princess or Your Highness. while Peach doesn't mind being called by the royal names, she prefers to be know as just Peach during adventures, it took Edge a while to call her by her name, but she still tends to be formal.

(the little glance they had with one another after landing in Barrendale mesa, that was so cute <3)

Peach would sometimes grimace at the scars Edge has - not in a disgusted way - but in a concerning way, wanting to know how she got them, who would do this and why. but of course, Edge refused to talk about it, still, that didn't mean that Peach had a tiny bit of built in rage towards the culprit.

Edge was not used to receiving concern from other's, so she wasn't able to properly react when Peach started to worry about her well being (she's had a lot of experience thanks to Mario's sheer stubbornness, she's can tell when someone is pushing themselves too hard),

there was one time where Peach had to drag Edge back to the airship to allow her to rest after she massacred a horde of extremely tough enemies on her own, making her exhausted (nearly collapsing).

but this exchange made Peach realize that Edge was not okay with being touched after she tried to give her a helping hand, Edge pulled away immediately when she felt Peach's hand touch her arm. while she did allow Peach to take her back to the ship, this confirmed to her that Edge went through something horrific.

Edge has never experience the help of other's that weren't sparks, so it took a lot of conceiving from Peach to let her to clean her wounds for her rather than doing it herself, like she always has. it upset Peach, knowing that Edge must have been pretty lonely.

when she finally got her answer as to what happened to Edge in the past, Peach became even more protective of the little Rabbid, like a mother would to her child, vowing herself to show make sure Edge would feel safe, loved, and protected in her kingdom

after Cursa's defeat, Peach allowed Edge to stay in the castle for the time being, offering her a guest room within it, being the one that showed Edge all of the Mushroom Kingdom, even showing her the pipes that lead to the other kingdoms.

to Peach's delight, the Toads and other Rabbids greeted Edge with open arms, treating her fairly, and making her feel welcome. tho Edge didn't know what to think of it, but Peach knows that she's going to be just fine in her new home

Bowser:

This one is interesting because while Bowser is also a royal too, Edge had no interest in greeting him formally, mainly because of the history he has with the group she's traveling with.

ever since Bowser joined the group, Edge heard bit's and pieces about the Koopa King from the others, making her want nothing to do with him, still if Bowser and the other's were willing to work together, she to will also have to oblige - no point in trying to avoid him - much to her dismay, and i doubt Bowser is pretty happy about it too.

i think during their first meeting, Bowser would take interest in Edge since she's one of those "unique" Rabbids, but would be cautious around her. when they made eye contact for the first time, it was a stone cold death stare, telling one another that they can't be trusted

(Bowser would defiantly chastise Mario for taking in a Rabbid that they knew nothing about, due to his encounter with Bedrock)

Bowser has always been "a bit" rude when he talks to people, and Edge was no acceptation, he made small talk with her once, wanting to know more about her and her backstory, but the way he spoke made it sound like he was threatening her.

But Edge was unfazed by his way of speaking, and instead played the same card as he did, completely changing the subject in no time flat. normally Bowser would blow up in said person's face for talking back him, but not Edge, she actually left him speechless (and also a bit impressed). since then, everyone had to keep an eye on those two, can't have them starting a fight against each other after all.

no enemy stands a chance when these two are on a team (that duo sidequest with them in the DLC was so much fun btw), it's horrendous. but seeing their skills in action is when the two started to have respect for one another. Bowser's opinions on Edge completely changed. Someone who is an amazing fighter and is not afraid to stand up for herself, and can be intimidating, now that's someone that would be perfect for Bowser's army.

yep, he did tell her that, and just like before, Edge was not interested and refused, with Bowser simply saying "well, just think about" (news flash: she didn't)

but Edge did respect Bowser due to his immense strength, plus he wasn't as bad as Cursa, but she still wanted nothing to do with him (guess you could say that these two are frenemies in a way)

i'm thinking of a scenario where when Beep-O confronted Edge about knowing Midnite and Bedrock, and Edge telling him to let it go, Bowser would get up all in her face and try to forcefully make Edge admit the truth, pushing her buttons and all, even asking if she's scared about what's going to happen if she told, the others had to quickly break it up before things got messy.

when finally learning the truth, even Bowser was disgusted by Cursa's actions. yes, he is a villain with a lust for power, wanting to conquer the world, marry Princess Peach, and destroy his enemies, but he's not that heartless.

Edge is technically a child of Cursa's, being born from her Darkmess. Bowser - who is a father himself - would never even think about harming his children, nor would put them in any danger. so upon hearing that Cursa would do such a thing to her "daughter", gave Bowser another reason to pummel Cursa to the ground. (yes he did tell Edge that he would, which she appreciated)

when the journey was over, and Bowser wanting to head home, he would give Edge a handshake farewell, but told her that this won't be the last time they see each other, and Edge responds with a toothy grin and a snarky "that's a shame"

Rabbid Mario:

oh RM, you poor hopeless romantic, you can't make a lesbian fall in love with you XP.

i think most of the Rabbid counterparts would practically being all over Edge, asking her question's, complimenting her appearance, etc. for RM, it's mostly trying to get her attention.

during their first meeting, he was a little nervous speaking to her, so he kinda made a fool of himself, but that's not going to stop him from trying. sadly most of those times, he's been accidentally making Edge feel uncomfortable, so he backed off it for a while, but if he sees another opportunity, he's gonna take it.

while annoyed by his charming nature, Edge can tell that he has no ill intent what so ever, plus she's seen that he has a heart of gold, and cares deeply for the others, even sharing a close brotherly bond with RL, so she's been able to tolerate him.

what Edge can rely on tho was RM's willpower, he's been seen time and time again on how he can disintegrate a bunch of enemies with just a few punches, and that's somethings he's proud of, and tries to show off to Edge whenever he can (tho she didn't care about the showing off part). fights have been mostly easy whenever these two team up.

RM and Edge are absolute powerhouses, when it comes to battles, with there strength's combined, their able to move/lift heavy objects, and can destroy herds within seconds. this is how these two have basically been bonding, tho it's not in the way RM sees, they've just been becoming good friends (poor guy getting friend zoned)

when not focused on his crush, RM would give Edge tips on how to be safer when in a battle, he's seen how she can sometimes become reckless with either herself or trying to protect someone, which resorted to her getting hurt after. while some were luckily minor, RM hates seeing his friends get hurt, so he tires to do what he can to insure everyone's safety.

when he learned about her past, he realizes why she tends to be reckless and can see that it stresses her out sometimes. so he assures her that if she ever needed someone to lean on when feeling that way, he's her man. but he didn't say it as a way for Edge to be closer to him, it was a genuine offer (he's done it before with the others). he wasn't the best motivator, but he's a good listener, and will do what he could to provide comfort.

over time he got over his crush on Edge after the adventure, but still haas been spending most of his days hanging out with her along with the other Rabbids. (sometimes even fantasying his next future crush, one day he'll find love)

Rabbid Luigi:

now this a unique one, because i think out of everyone, RL was the one who Edge got along with the best. in fact, he was the first to form a friendship with her.

RL was the only one out of the group that was never intimidated by Edge, even being the first to approach her without hesitation, he admired her a lot, telling her how cool she looked, and that she was awesome on the battlefield and all that.

Edge would be flabbergasted at the compliment's, not knowing what to say at first, so turned the tide instead, saying that she admires his enthusiasm. RL couldn't contain his excitement after that.

despite RL's loud, hyperactive personality, Edge surprisingly doesn't mind it one bit. she was completely okay with listening to him talk about such wild and wacky things no matter how long it was. the others were even impressed by how well she can handle him.

RL doesn't really care about where Edge came from, he's just mostly excited that she's going to be part of the group from now on. RL would mostly spend his time with Edge, asking her a lot of questions that weren't really personal, so Edge was able to answer them easily.

he also love's to play with the Sparks, so when he sees that the Sparks mostly hang around Edge, he sometimes tries to let her in on the fun too, but Edge prefers to just watch.

RL is basically the cheerleader of the group, there was once a time where the group's path was blocked by a huge enemy, and Edge volunteered to take it out herself. while the others were concerned for her safety, RL knew she could take it, and started cheering her on, making Edge all more determined. needless to say, the battle ended faster then expected.

over time, Edge started to grow protective of RL, making sure that he's kept out of harms way. she knew he was able to take care of himself, but sometimes he tends to be a bit cocky, and not understand how dangerous the situation is. trouble seems to find him a lot

one time, RL got too cocky, thinking that the opponent he was fighting would be a breeze, but learned the hard way that it wasn't. Edge manage to take the hit for him. while she barely got hurt, RL felt bad for getting her involved in the mess he accidentally caused, but Edge assured him that it wasn't a big deal, and that to think of it as a learning experience to help him improve. since then, he's been trying to be more careful on the battlefield.

when finding out about her past, RL also started to become protective of her, even noticing that Edge easily stresses out when thinking about it, he tries to help calm her down, teaching her breathing exercises, or handing her a cup of water, sometimes even cracking a few jokes to try to get a chuckle out of her, sometimes it works sometimes it doesn't.

i like to think after the journey, RL would help Edge overcome her insecurities of the new environment she now resides in by carefully exposing it to her little by little. probably as a way to repay her for looking out for him. now he's gonna do the same for her, and it worked out great

Rabbid Peach:

two girl bosses?! polar opposites?! what could go wrong?

so during their first meeting, RP - at first - want nothing to do with Edge, purposely avoiding her out of jealously. she thought her appearance looked so cool looking, that people as well as her followers would start paying more attention to Edge rather than her.

whenever they did speak, RP would act cold towards Edge, completely shutting her down with every opportunity. all while Edge was really confused as to why RP so cold to her.

it never bothered her anyway, besides Edge was no pushover, she sometimes argues back with RP, making impressive comebacks until she had RP backed in a corner, forcing her to abandon the argument.

unlike Bowser, these two have tons of restraint, they have never physically fought against one another as they knew it would be useless to waste their energy on teammates.

it wouldn't be till a time where Edge saved RP from an on slot of attacks, is when she started to see Edge in another light. even tho all she did was just making sure that her teammate were okay. RP did thank her for saving her life as she healed the cuts and scrapes Edge received. now kinda regretting a little for acting so mean to her

since then, her attitude towards Edge started to change. she no longer acted cold towards her, and instead relied heavily on small talk, even telling Edge the truth on why she acted mean in the first place. they both simply laughed it off and agreed that it was pretty stupid, and thus, a friendship born (maybe even something more ;)

being a sociable Rabbid (mainly on the media), RP tries to get Edge to be a bit more outgoing, doing what she can to get her to come out of her shell. even trying to get her to take selfies with her (not caring about what people think anymore when she posts them on Instagram)

how ironic that she was once jealous, thinking that Edge will take the attention away from her, but now here she is, giving Edge all the attention. tho Edge doesn't know what to think of it, in fact, she's kinda a bit embarrassed by it. she was never an attention seeker after all.

RP was aware that Edge was never fond with touch, but when learning about her past, she was immediate to provide support for her, and even giving her surprise hugs that Edge has no chance of avoiding, RP has an iron grip (who knows when she will ever let go), all to try and keep a smile on Edge's face

After Cursa's defeat, RP would somtimes take both Edge and RR on a girls day, taking them to her favourite clothes shops, coffee shops, sometimes hang in the castle with Peach, etc. Edge and RR would mostly be exhausted by the end of the day. but RP and Peach has it covered when the time to relax has arrived, providing comfy blankets for a nice chill night

Rabbid Rosalina:

oh these two would get along just fine. Out of everyone, their by far the calmest ones in the group.

when she joined the group, she didn't like how loud the other Rabbids were (it interrupts her reading time), so she would mostly spend time by herself, but being more observant then the others, she noticed that Edge mostly likes to spend her time alone was well, she figured that she would be a good start to get use to the area she now resides in.

seeing how Edge was not loud and rowdy, it made RR feel comfortable enough too sit beside her and read her book in peace. this was also a nice change for Edge too. while she didn't mind how noisy it can get, she enjoys to have some peace and quiet every now and then. the two quickly became friends when learning about their fair share of quietness (even if it lasts about a few minutes)

(their relationship is a bit hard for me to explain, but lets just say that it's the equivalent of two introverted friends hanging out)

RR loves to speak about her interests, so when Edge asked about what type of books she was into, she talked for god knows how long, it's still a mystery to this day as to how Edge didn't fall asleep during all that.

sometimes RR would ask Eithering to turn her and Edge invisible if any of their Rabbid friends try to bother them during their time of peace.

Edge actually allows RR to lean on her whenever she feels like taking a nap, when it happened the first time, Edge tried to push her off, thinking she was doing it on purpose. but after a few moments, she realized that that RR fell to a deep sleep. not knowing what else to do, she stopped resisting and just let her sleep where she is. since then, she no longer minded if RR fell asleep on her randomly.

RR was the only one that already knew that Edge was an ex-Spark hunter during her time with Midnite, she recalled Midnite saying something about someone leaving her behind so she can go fulfill a pointless goal. she quickly put two and two together when seeing Edge sparing Midnite after her defeat.

she never told the rest of the group because she believed Edge should be the one to tell them, for she was certain that they will understand. how proud she was when Edge finally revealed her past and the crew still accepting of her.

after Cursa's defeat, RR would sometimes read about the many beautiful places around the Mushroom Kingdom, sometimes she would bring Edge to those places where they can just chill away from society for a moment, and the sceneries they go to are just as gorgeous as they are in pictures.

as a bonus, let's add Rosalina in the mix too :)

Rosalina:

because of her merge with Cursa, Rosalina has a type of connection with Edge in a way. To Cursa, the Spark Hunters were just mere killing machines meant to serve her. but to Rosalina, they were newborn children that were being raised by the wrong person.

with Rosalina being unable to protect the Lumas and Sparks from Cursa, she decided to put her faith in the Spark Hunters until Mario arrives, sending out distress calls towards the the leader, hoping that if she could somehow communicate with her, then Edge could be able to convince the others to fight against their creator.

(remember Edge saying that Cursa gave her an edge of just enough free will to think? i like to think that edge was Rosalina)

it broke her heart seeing how the second part of the plan didn't work, and Edge was on her own, she had believed that the worse has happened to her. but felt a wave of relief when seeing that Edge was still alive, and managed to find her way to Mario and his friends

when Rosalina was freed, she apologized to Edge for putting a burden on her shoulders, wishing that what happened didn't play out the way it did, but Edge assured her that it was her choice to rebel against Cursa and how it was the best decision she ever made.

seeing how the Sparks enjoyed being around Edge, Rosalina made her the "Steward of Sparks", and will forever be grateful to her for protecting her star children.

needless to say, Edge found herself one interesting family :)

Sorry this took a while and that my descriptions are all over the place, it could have been done quicker if i wrote more on my phone, but my phone tends to post drafts that aren't finished yet, even tho i click save as draft, i didn't want to risk losing the question. but i had fun talking about this none the less, hope you enjoyed them :)

[saltysaccharin]

Happiness

— [ELYSIUM] {SEMI-CANON}

• characters :: ryouga atsumu ft. the other ryougas

• content :: the family‼️, angst, sibling shenanigans, atsumu being lonely on his 22nd birthday because he's just like that

• warnings :: no comfort (kinda?)

prompt / synopsis :: a birthday

word count :: 1.1k

a/n :: THIS IS LATE ACTUALLY his birthday was on the 3rd but i fucking forgot like the dumbass i am but it's okay because i churned out this thing last night and am still working on art thing so HOORAY ATSUMU BDAY WEEK (accidental)‼️

HAPPY NEW YEAR‼️‼️

"Ugh, Atsu-nii, what's the matter with you?" Kairo huffed, propping his head up onto his palm, "Don't you ever stop working?"

Atsumu scoffed jovially and rolled his eyes, skimming over the stack of papers he held. "I started working when you were two, like hell I'd give up my momentum now— Hey! Teruko!"

Atsumu's frown went ignored by the young woman who'd snatched the documents out of her older brother's hands, simply sticking her tongue out childishly at him as she brandished her winnings.

"I need those. Give them back." The doctor glowered from the kitchen bar.

"Nope. You shouldn't be working today, and you won't be," Teruko replied with a sneer, "I'll give them back tomorrow! Don't be mad at me!" She hummed before sashaying away with the files.

The twitch of Atsumu's eye got a snicker from Kairo, further vexing the former. "Oh, fuck off. You guys have been in cahoots since forever."

Kairo shrugged, "So sorry, doctor, but I do hope you won't be using such vulgar language around Mama later." He jabbed, settling down not long after. After a moment, he tapped his fingers along the quartz finish of the table in thought as he turned back to Atsumu, "D'you think Dad'll come?" His voice significantly lowered in volume with the question.

With a heavy sigh, Atsumu rubbed his temples to dramatically emphasize his stance on the subject. "Who knows? Old man's too busy doing.. whatever he does to have time for his family. Guess I got that part right, at least," His jest fell a bit flat, only getting a disheartened nod from the brother. Atsumu shook his head, quickly changing the subject. "Where did the twins and Mito go off to? I haven't seen them since you five showed up on my doorstep."

"Oh, they went to the local minimart to get a couple things. Y'know, since you city folks have some real good stuff over here—"

"They went where? Kai, this building already has its own convenience store on the first floor."

"I knew that— Well..." An anxious chuckle left Kairo's lips as he scratched the back of his head, "I'm not sure if they did..."

Luckily for him, Teruko waltzed back into the kitchen, inadvertently saving her younger brother from the older's exasperation.

"Hey, Atsu-nii," She called out, pointing her thumb over her shoulder toward the corridor leading to the bedrooms, "Saw your room, saw the guest rooms — they're too good to be true by the way — but whose is the, uh..." Teruko trailed off, gently knocking on her forehead a few times to reorganize her thoughts. She snapped her fingers, "The room with the geeky stuff and the dog bed."

Kairo snorted, "The room with the geeky stuff?" He repeated in disbelief, straightening up in his seat before hopping off of the chair, "This, I've got to see!"

"HEY, NO NO NO—" Atsumu flushed, instantly chasing after his two siblings down the hall while they giggled mischievously. "That's not mine, stay out of there! Tch, you two never change!" He groaned, slowing down once they had already slipped past the door frame.

He put his hands on his hips in an attempt to look disappointed, imitating their mother subconsciously. The stupid grins on his sister and brother's faces warranted an irritated huff to come out of his nose.

"I didn't know you had a roommate," Kairo questioned, facing Atsumu suspiciously, "You definitely don't seem like the type..."

Meanwhile, Teruko deadpanned, "It is a mess in here. But Kairo's right; how come you've never let us stay for more than a couple weeks but then suddenly you just let some person actually live with you? Favoritism."

Rolling his eyes, Atsumu ushered them out of the room. "No need to be jealous of a complete stranger, my irreplaceable little sister," He muttered sarcastically, closing the door behind them, "Today, I've been reserved for my blood-related family, and so you guys will unfortunately not be meeting my boyfriend until much later. Thank you for understanding."

"Your HUH?" Both Teruko and Kairo exclaimed loudly, Atsumu making a displeased face in response.

"Jeez, if I didn't know any better I'd say you two were the twins in this family..."

As if speaking of the devils would summon them, the penthouse elevator dinged before the doors parted to reveal a duo of identical teenage girls with a smaller boy in tow. Behind them stood a woman well into her forties, her dark brown hair the closest shade to Atsumu's than those of the other Ryouga children.

One of the twins cheered, lifting a plastic bag to the air in celebration, "Guess who we ran into in the lobby!"

"You're back," Teruko observed, before lighting up upon seeing her mother accompanying them. "Ah, Mama! You made it!" She chirped merrily, skipping over to the group by the elevator, soon followed by Kairo.

Atsumu lagged behind, however, making no move to greet the rest of his family. He looked on with a soft, lopsided smile — they really did appear to be just an ordinary, happy.. well, family.

Eventually, the older woman approached him, an undeniable gentleness in her aura as she reached out to pat his head. Atsumu was taller than her, but he felt like a child in her bearings. He couldn't bring himself to look her in the eye for some reason, despite not having done anything worth a reprimanding.

The woman hummed, giving him a closed-eye smile, "Don't have anything to say to your mother, Atsumu?" Her question playful in nature.

"...Hi, Mama." Atsumu spoke, uncharacteristically timid.

"Unhappy to see me?"

"No, nothing like that, I'm just," He stammered, "Mm. Yeah."

His mother giggled, ruffling his hair. Normally, he'd snap and whine and do his best to salvage what little style was left of it, but he found himself to be suddenly eleven again. He did not spare a quiet groan, though, a smile creeping up toward his face.

"Happy birthday, my little doctor," She sighed contentedly, taking her son into a tender hug, "You did such a good job for yourself."

Ryouga blinked away the fantasy, shaking his head to rid of any leftover thoughts. The sigh he let out was nearly inaudible, yet the air still disturbed the small flame on the wick of a small candle placed into a small cupcake.

He hovered over it, a blank look in his eyes. What to wish for, he mused half-heartedly. It was rather absurd how he insisted on genuinely mulling it over, even though all of his wishes had already come true.

Well, a new one wouldn't hurt, right?

A single blow put out the only light in his ever-empty penthouse without much of a struggle.

[kithtaehyung]

RYEN 😭 idk if it’s bc i’m in a sensitive mood or what but that group photo scene made me tear up 🥺 this whole chapter (drabble? one shot?) was brimming with nostalgia, which is arguably my favorite feeling tbh 😅 i just fucking love summer, and i miss all my friends at home and reading this was so comforting to me 💕

also this one really made me yearn for the day that they don’t have to keep each other a secret anymore. my heart ACHES FOR THEM!!! they love each other so much and i WILL NOT be convinced that it’s “””too early””” for that. they deserve to be happy, and so does their brother. yoongi is home for both of them and OH I’M JUST SO FUCKING SOFT RN.

also dom is ONCE AGAIN the realest one for chiming in about shiv when she knows the truth. just making sure folks don’t get suspicious. she’s always looking out 💅🏻

i’m glad you were able to get out of a slump and were inspired to write this! it warmed my lil sensitive heart. i’m excited to see what you have coming up (especially satsuma tbh 👀). and if you’re still asking if we wanna see the lollipop continuation, i actually just got out of a meeting with everyone on the subject. fists slammed on the table, and everyone was shouting over each other, but i got a unanimous yes, and i’m here to deliver the message. yes. we want it. need it, in fact.

i hope you’re having a lovely evening and week, as always! and that you’re still happy to be busy and that you’re taking care of yourself. stream face for emotional wellness and prepare for yoongi tour for emotional distress

NICKI NOOOO😭 it's totally ok bc that scene made me a little teary-eyed, too. it's okay! the nostalgia was something i wanted to convey in this one bc everyone was together, just like the old days. i may have been a little reminiscent myself while writing, so the influence came from all those memories i hold close. i'm glad i was able to comfort you in some way<3 i'll be here to keep doing that for as long as i can.

THE ACHE I KNOWWW i feel it, too! trust me. i have to hold back bc of pacing and plot and all sorts of other things like reality T^T but trust when i say i yearn for that day, too. they all deserve so much happiness and my heart hurts even now when i think about them and their respective journeys.. ugh the fact that you included bro in here just made me :')))) STOPPP

dom is just a real one idk what else to say to that. lmfao.

THE SLUMP IS GONNNNNEEEE god i wanna punch and kick air like that's how fcking hype i am. it's been a rough few months so to be able to churn out Coherent Words and Phrases That I Am Proud Of again makes me gd elated. satsuma is on the backburner right now since 3tan10 is getting worked on, but i'm excited that you're ready for it! it's a fun one.

LMFAO glad the 3tan council all decided that lollipop was in order. i have spoken to pa!jimin and he is ready for us to get that draft done and posted in due time.

i'm doing quite well these days! busy but a good type of busy, and got to work on dope ass sHIT recently so it's been looking great! i hope you're doing well, too, and uhhhhhhh yeah. this tour is gonna end me lol i'm so fcking READY

[listen-past-the-silence]

.

[pualaha]

20 seconds

requested: "Hey! Can you write an imagine with Jasper Hale, where his mate is human but has a rare terminal disease, he stays with her at the hospital, things like that, seeing how the illness consumes her. And on her last day, while he recalls all the good memories with her, he turns her. If you're not comfortable with the topic it's ok I'll go just with anything angst but fluff w/Jasper"

this was requested a LONG time ago but I have been crazy busy, but today i'm free so i decided to write it. i hope you like this and this is what you wanted, nonnie! Have a great day <3!! also i made everything up- the storyline, the disease, and other things. always love constructive criticism so please let me know of any mistakes (i did not proof read this, but i had elena do it, so blame her)! thank you! much love

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE TWILIGHT CHARACTERS OR THE STORYLINE. I ALSO DON'T OWN ANY OF THE PICTURES OF GIFS USED!!

!!TW!!: death, illness, vampires, werewolves, innuendos, cursing

mentions of: entire cullen family, bella, and the wolf pack

meanings of abbreviations: y/n- your name, y/l/n- your last name, y/m/n- your middle name, y/ms/n- your mother’s name, y/d/n- your dad’s name, y/b/n- your brother’s name, y/s/n- your sister’s name, y/n/n- your nick name.

word count: 1,909

type of fic: angst and fluff

jasper hale x reader

italics: flashback

"hi baby," jasper looked at you. he could feel the pain you were in. it wasn't necessarily a physical pain, but more of a 'i am dying and there is nothing i can do about it.' or 'i look sick and there's nothing anyone can do about it.' or 'i can't move.' it absolutely killed him, seeing the love of his life on her death bed, knowing there wasn't anything he could do to stop her from feeling that way.

barely above a whisper he heard you mumble back, "hi, my love." he would've cried if he could. he fell to his knees, and held your hand. it made you shiver, so he quickly let go.

"mr. hale?" your nurse called as she walked in the room

"yes ma'am?" he stood up

"mr. hale, i -maybe you should sit down- anyway, i am not sure how to say this, but," she looked to her feet as tears fell from her eyes, "tomorrow is her last day. i am so sorry."

he wanted to scream. she had been fighting this illness her whole life and for what? to die from it. as quickly as he could, without being suspicious, he walked out of the room to call carlisle.

"this is it. she's about to be gone. the love of my life is about to die." he screamed into the phone.

carlisle sighed, "you know I am proud of you. you stayed by her side, you helped her through everything, i know she is so thankful even if she can't say so."

then bella talked into the phone, "you could always change her." she suggested.

"no, she doesn't want that. she wants to die. i can't do that to her."

"jasper, this pain that you feel will only worsen, bella's right." Edward explained.

"i. can't. do. it," the major was starting to come out, and everyone stopped talking and gave the phone to esme.

"hi dea," she soothed, "can we come see her tomorrow?"

"yes." he was curt with his response.

"okay sweetie, we will be there in a few- also, invite the pack. i know they'll miss her, too."

he hung up. he had nothing against the pack that wasn't already there, but he didn't mind having them over. especially because he knew it'd make you happy to see them on your second to last day.

about an hour later, everyone was there and to say it was awkward was an understatement.

"her room is this way, follow me," jasper called out to the people. a few people mumbled okay's and oh's in the crowd, not wanting to say anything that might cause jasper to freak, they could tell he was on edge. yet they all understood. these were his last moments with her.

first, the cullen's entered the now stuffy room.

esme closed her eyes and snuggled up to carlisle. you had everyone wrapped around your finger. you were easily the sweetest person anyone had met, and the funniest. you were always worried that you weren't kind enough, but everyone knew different. a friend could come up to you and talk about anything and you would listen, you'd ask questions, and learn more about the subject on your own so you could understand it better.

everyone took turns saying their goodbyes to you, heartbreak was heavy in the room, jasper could feel it, but his own emotions weighed heavier than the whole hospital's combined.

now it was the wolf-pack's turn. they were crying, mainly because they could- but that's besides the point. seth ran up to your still body, only your chest moving, and he cried so hard he threw up. it wasn't much of a comic relief, but it made jasper smile. the rest of the pack talked to you, they all wanted to stay longer, but they hadn't seen jasper like this, they wanted him to have the most time.

eventually visiting hours were over so the hospital was empty besides patients and night staff. due to him being a vampire, jasper couldn't sleep. which for this, he was so thankful for. he stared at you. half of him screaming that he needed to change you, the other half, quietly saying, 'don't she'll be mad when she wakes up'.

"jasper hale! put me down right now!"

"i'm sorry ma'am, what did you say?" he teased pretending like he couldn't hear you as he spun you around in the air. there was a beautiful meadow somewhere in forks. you always asked jasper to take you there. the flowers were alive- making everything else in the town feel alive as well. it was easily the second best thing there- behind jasper.

"babyyyyyy," you laughed.

"yes darling?" he perched his brow.

"put. me. down. now."

"what's the magic word, y/n/n,"

"please, daddy," you knew the affect the word had on him, it could get him fired up in seconds. it could turn him into the major, which helped turn you on.

"you better watch yourself, miss, wouldn't wanna hurt a pretty thing like you," his voice got deeper and his eyes got darker, as he grabbed your face pulling you closer.

"what happens if I don't?" you challenged, letting him take control of your body.

"you'll find out." he threw you over his shoulder as he started marching towards his house. you knew you were in for a treat.

That's when he first got a call from the hospital saying that you two needed to get there immediately. you hadn't told him about the sickness. when you were around the cullen's things were normal because the only person who knew was carlisle. but at home, everyone knew and pitied you. you hated that, it made you feel weak, like you would die but everyone would only remember the sickness. it wasn't that way with them, or the pack.

"oh my gosh! i am so sorry for- oh my," you looked up at the boy you just ran into. his was tall, fair skin, and beautiful hair. you couldn't stop staring.

"it's not nice to stare," he chuckled.

you looked at the floor, a dark red blush covering your face, "sorry."

"don't be, but, uh- you have some drool under your lip." he wiped invisible drool off of your bottom lip as your tongue followed his finger. his demeanor changed and he suddenly started to freak out, walking away from you as quickly as he could. when your thoughts of why he left in a hurry died down, your lips felt freezing, like you had licked a frozen pole. no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't get him off your mind- not that you wanted to.

you hoped you could find him the next day, but you didn't, he didn't seem to be there for the next few weeks. you felt horrible, like you were the reason that he left. the smarter part of you believed that you really weren't, but something told you that, yes, you were.

jasper sat on the chair, remembering everything you two did together. you lost your virginity to him, you went on your first date together, in fact he was your first boyfriend. all of your firsts were with him, he was horribly upset to see you go, but he also knew you had enjoyed your life, that you had truly lived.

you looked him straight in the eyes, heart beating out of your chest, you knew he could feel your nervousness. you two were sat at a small diner in a small town just north of forks, celebrating your 3 year anniversary. you had barely spoken a word to him- to scared to say anything and worried that you'd mess up asking him.

"darlin-"

"marry me."

"what?" he sat up.

"please baby, i'm dying and i want to get married."

"are you sure?"

"never been more sure of anything in my life."

and just like that, you two were engaged. the following two days after that you guys had gone everywhere to find rings that would fit for you, but nothing had seemed to work yet.

that was last week, you were planning on getting married in the next year, but life had other plans. he was going to take you around the world to let you see everything that you had dreamed of seeing. it broke him knowing that all of these places would never feel your perfect touch. they would never know what it's like to be felt by an angel.

thinking of all of those important memories, he also thought of your first fight.

the door slammed in your face, "what the fuck?!"

"what, y/n? is there a problem," the tall boy screamed back.

"get off the door and let me in! we can't just not talk about this!"

"can't talk about what? the way you were all over sam?"

"are you serious right now, jasper? i have told you so many times- even before we started dating that i had no interest in him! and if you want to be that way, what about alice? hmm? rosalie told me that you two used to be a thing until she found her soulmate! i am not dumb, i still see the way you two look at each other!" you started to cry.

softly, he opened the door, "oh, baby, i'm so sorry. i really am," his voice was gentle and quiet, you almost didn't hear it, "i promise i don't like her. i just see how she's happy and i want that- with you."

"i want it with you, too, but you have to trust me."

"i do, i promise i do. i guess it all just goes back to maria," he sighed.

you grabbed his face, giving his lips a peck, "i'm sorry, my love."

he got pulled back into reality when he heard your heart monitor flat lining.

'this can't be happening!' he thought, 'not yet." he wasn't done with you, he wasn't ready to give up. he rushed to the hospital room door and locked it, then pushed the dresser in front of it. he knew that you didn't want to be turned, but he couldn't be without you. so he went back to you and bit you. everywhere he could- like he had seen edward do with bella. the doctors started banging on the door, yelling to be let in. jasper opened the door then rushed out of the room with you in his hands before anyone could see anything.

he took you back to his house. angry with himself for leaving carlisle to deal with angry and confused doctors and himself to deal with you in the afterlife.

about a week later, you had finally woken up. all of your senses heightened by 10. there were more colors, more sounds, and smells that you had never experienced before.

"am i in heaven?" you wondered aloud.

"no, y/n/n, i am afraid you’re in the cullen house," carlisle smiled.

"which is close enough to it!" emmett boomed. you winced.

"hey! watch it, she's still getting used to everything," jasper seethed.

you sat up, "jasper! you promised not to change me! what the hell?"

rosalie chuckled, "you should probably start running, after all, she is new and could easily get you."

you stared holes through his head, "i'll give you 20 seconds. go." and just like that, he was sprinting out the door.