#or at least that wasn’t as important as a point when shit was happening

[threeacttragedy]

Entry 11: The One About the Heart of the Ocean

My father is a big history buff. He fancies himself a bit of an expert about the U.S. Civil War, U.S. Presidents, and World War II. In fact, he’s gifted me with the Useless Knowledge of which four U.S. Presidents were assassinated while in office (Lincoln, Garfield, McKinley, and Kennedy – you’re welcome for that little addition to your own Library of Useless Knowledge).

But, more importantly, my dad has instilled in me the importance of a timeline. The idea that, if you’re collecting information, it’s vital to keep it in chronological order, that way you can look at it, (try to) understand it, and theorize about what happened before and after an event. If the facts are out of order, the conclusion you reach may be in error.

My father and I also like to solve True Crime together. When he visits, we spend hours on the porch studying some random, usually cold, true crime event. We timeline the shit out of it, connect the puzzle pieces together, and exclaim in the end, “We’ve solved it!” I suppose that is part of what keeps me interested in Lukola – not that there is anything criminal in Lukola, except perhaps the “Single White Female” that pops up behind Nicola from time to time – I just enjoy the game of trying to put the pieces together.

Lukola has become a rather intriguing puzzle, don’t you think? It’s definitely one to which I do not have all the pieces. I do, however, enjoy collecting the information and chronologizing it, and now I find it enjoyable to scribble my thoughts out on Tumblr.

So, how did I get here?

Well, it started with boredom and ended with a timeline.

My first entry to the timeline?

July 20, 2024.

What happened on that date?

Well, nothing spectacular really, except JVN posted –

HOLD UP!

HOLD THE FUCK UP!!

OH SHIT!!

YES!

YES, you guessed it! After blowing JVN off for at least three, maybe four, posts in a row, I’m finally getting around to dedicating an entire entry to Their Royal Highness.

JVN is such a fascinating creature. I mean, you get beautiful, witty, and intelligent wrapped into one human being. Oh, and they are kind of a catty bitch, too, and who doesn’t love one of those? That’s why they're the Heart of the Ocean on the USS Lukola; they just give off this very rare blue diamond vibe. Well, that, and because something they did marks the focal point – the heart – from which the rest of my timeline branches.

*I will cut in here to note that I am referring to JVN as they/their in this entry as their Instagram bio indicates they accept “they/he/she.”

Okay, back to July 20.

On that date, JVN posted to TikTok their version of the Charli xcx “Apple” dance. You know that annoying TikTok trend that took over our summer? Yeah, that’s the one – the same one Antonia tried doing – she just couldn’t pull off the JVN version of it. Dear girl couldn’t come close to matching JVN’s “enthusiasm,” and JVN’s version was only made more enjoyable in that they were seemingly mocking Antonia!

But, all’s fair in love and war, right?

JVN’s bestie, Nicola, had already spent the entire summer subtlety combating Antonia over social media. The vibe in the fandom was that Antonia was always trying to one-up Nicola, with Nicola always coming out the victor. I’m sorry, Antonia, you just can’t beat some perfectly timed BTS drops.

So, why did JVN’s TikTok post intrigue me? It wasn’t because it was that amusing. It was because they’d done something I hadn’t noticed before – they’d taunted Antonia on a public forum.

Curious, that.

Now, I’m not saying it was the first time JVN mocked Antonia, but July 20 was the first time I noticed it. That date is the heart of my timeline, but it does not have to be the heart of yours. We can all start at different times but still reach the same conclusions, so long as we keep the information in order.

You would think one wouldn’t mess with the “girl friend” of your best friend’s “best friend,” at least not publicly. But, here was JVN shamelessly mocking Antonia on TikTok. And, just so we’re clear, the public opinion of what JVN was doing with this TikTok is available to view in the comments of their TikTok post. It wasn’t just me that came to this conclusion – and JVN has left these comments up for four months at this point.

JVN’s “Apple” dance was only made more interesting the following day – July 21 – when they included it in their Sunday Dump post on Instagram.

And, Nicola liked it.

Hmm, things were becoming curiouser and curiouser.

Let’s not even pretend that Nicola isn’t street savvy and didn’t understand the context of that video. And, let’s definitely not underestimate the length of her claws.

To be honest, I hadn’t paid too much attention to Lukola since mid-June. It was an “it is what it is” thing for me. Even though I believed the relationship between Luke and Nicola was complicated (see my first blog for that story), Luke had also apparently disappeared into the summertime sun with his friend group, which included Antonia.

Something about JVN openly making fun of Antonia, and Nicola, at the very least acknowledging it with an Instagram like, made me realize something in Luke’s situation must be shifting.

What have I said about little changes? That deviations in modus operandi are what make people start giving the side-eye to a situation.

And, side-eye I did!

I started paying attention to JVN and, on July 25, they posted a series of photos on TikTok and Instagram showcasing “What I would wear if you invited me to your…” We will fast-forward through all the slides until we get to the last one, which read, “…just got dumped and going to take 8 shots dinner at Lupe’s in SoHo.” Was it possible that JVN was hinting at a dumpster fire at the Soho Farmhouse?

If you don’t know what the Soho Farmhouse is, it’s the place where Luke and his friend group, including Antonia, frequented, probably on Luke’s dime (*insert wicked laugh – oh, and a disclaimer that this is all speculation).

Funny that Nicola liked this post on Instagram, too, and it wasn’t even buried in a Sunday Dump.

At this point, JVN had really sparked my damn interest. Like, dear one, what are you hinting at?

On July 29, Deux Moi creeped out from under its rock and reminded the fandom to hate Luke by rehashing Papsmear. Thank you, we needed that. I mean, half of us almost forgot how much we hated him! That’s me being a sarcastic tart, by the way. If we were to fast-forward to today, I’d argue that Luke was the most darling thing to come out of Bridgerton.

Any ways, again, thank you, Deux Moi, for those suspiciously timed Papsmear pictures because they aligned perfectly with the pap pictures People dropped the following day – July 30.

Yep, I am talking about those strangely awkward pap pictures of Luke hanging out in the murky waters of Sorrento with Antonia. Oh, and let’s not forget the video footage of that encounter, which I am sure still upsets and confuses people to this day. In fact, I know it does because, as I was researching this, I had a couple of people get annoyed after I asked them to view it. Funny thing is, that shit never bothered me (I didn’t say that it didn’t later confuse me!). The first time I saw them, I was like, “Luke is not into that girl at all,” and my next thought was, “I wonder how old these pictures are because I would have sworn JVN was hinting at something.”

Now, this story wouldn’t be complete if I didn’t address the rumor portion of it.

First rumor? That Antonia set up the entire Italy pap photo-op because she seemingly knew where to find the cameraman. So, let’s discuss that video everyone seems to hate to acknowledge exists. In the video, you can see Antonia maybe looking in the direction of the cameraman. She then leans into Luke, either to whisper something to him or to reach for something behind him. In my opinion – and this is strictly my opinion – it looks like she’s pretending to reach for something over his shoulder. Still shots of this interaction are the photos People published, presumably because Luke and Antonia looked like they were cheek to cheek.

Okay, notice I said, “first rumor,” because, yeah, there’s a second rumor, too! But, it fits snuggly into that first rumor. Almost immediately – because that’s how fast the Lukola Sleuths get to work around here – rumors began to circulate that Antonia was following on Instagram the photographer that took the Italy pap pictures. In fact, several people I’ve spoken to swear that they witnessed during a TikTok Live a host prove that Antonia was following this photographer. That’s a bit suspicious, isn’t it? Yeah, it fucking is.

Let’s keep moving.

That same day, we had that video drop of Luke watching fireworks, at night, with sunglasses. Speaking of sunglasses, I guess Luke found those motherfuckers because he sure as shit didn’t have them while floating around in that dirty ass water. Any ways, at the end of the video, Rory appears behind Luke, looking in the direction of the camera and smiling like a condescending, sneaky little shit. Now, who was the cameraman? Well, a possible suspect would be Antonia since she was not seen in the video. Go figure.

Alright, so that day finally ended and on July 31, JVN posted to TikTok a cutesy video of themself at the market titled, “When you catch someone trying to sneak a pic but you were born for these moments.” They prance around the market and randomly look at the cameraman (Mark) with a smile and a pose. The caption reads, “I welcome sneaky pics but I can’t guarantee I won’t sneak some back or put on a show for you.”

WAIT A MINUTE!

Did JVN just inexplicably confirm Luke was getting papped by his own friends?

Yeah, I kind of think JVN did.

And, Nicola liked this one as well when JVN posted it to Instagram on August 8.

Didn’t I tell you JVN was a fascinating creature? And, to be honest, JVN only gets better as this Lukola ship continues on its voyage.

Oh, strangely enough, a few days after the Italy pap crap, Luke returned to London alone. The friend group became unsettlingly silent, and Nicola started to get really, really loud – Chaos Week was incoming! And, so were some more JVN crumbs (and nicely timed clap backs).

[uc1wa]

18+ minors dni

tags: fem reader, kids, penetrative sex, breeding

"she’s really good with kids," roy smiles widely to his best friend, a smile that turns into a smirk when he looks over to the raven haired man. cheeks dusted pink while a stupid, love-struck grin covers his lips.

that is, until it’s not and is quickly wiped off when he feels the gaze on him and a bump to his shoulder. "don’t ya want some of your own?" the red-haired man asks, and jason rolls his eyes. "can’t stand kids, basically have some of my own with all the other shits," jason says annoyedly thinking about his one-too-many siblings that he had grown up raising alongside dick. raising kids as siblings and vigilantes has a tendency to make the average man not want children

but, he can’t help but to feel a pang in his chest when he watches you pick up roy’s baby daughter, lian, from your place in the park a little bit aways from the two men. your arms wrapping around her tiny frame as you hold her close to your chest, pointing to jason and roy while encouraging her to wave at the two men. something of a wave, more of a grabbing fist is executed as she matches the smile that you’re wearing, and jason has never thought about getting you pregnant until this very moment.

like a flick of a switch changes in him. he imagines it’s what animals feel when it's mating season; something primal and deep within him that says he needs to be the reason for a bump on your belly and he needs it to happen immediately.

"c’mon, if you get her pregnant now, lian and yours can grow up together," roy pushes more, waving to his sweet baby while doing so; contrastly speaking to jason about impregnating you like it was as normal as he made it sound. "y’know you want it, big man. plus your babies would be so fuckin’ cute," he fonds, "well, her traits would make your babies cute, i don’t know about yours," roy teases with a laugh, hitting jason’s back.

bidding a farewell to your best friend in law and his daughter, you made your way back into your home with jason following behind, locking the door and making his own way in.

"how many kids do you want?" your boyfriend asks, and it’s hard not to take you by surprise. usually these conversations stemmed from previous important conversations, or something that brought overwhelming intimacy. To say the least, this wasn’t the average conversation that’s spoken as soon as you walk in the door.

this wasn’t the type of conversation to follow spending time with your best friend.

"why’re you asking?" you question, turning on your heel with a pointed look and jason shrugs with a roll of his eyes. his keys rustle against the counter as he walks towards you, his cold hand finding yours and leading you quietly to your bedroom.

“i think you’d look good with my baby,” he says, helping you take your sweater and then shirt underneath off. gently, and without rush, like he has all the time in the world if you’re willing. raising your arms to assist the man with his task at hand, you smile teasingly, “somebody’s got baby fever ‘cause of lian, huh?” and jason scoffs with a small laugh, “something like that. also wanna continue our family if you'd like to help,” he insists with a tease while your hands now find his top, doing the same as he did to you. 

his movements are slow tonight, matching the one of two ways you find him in bed. either fucking or making love, and when the latter occurs, you find yourself relishing in every touch that feels louder than they’ve ever been. touches that are soft but with force to be intentional, kisses that are meaningful, especially the one jason presses with soft lips to the spot right under your belly button. his movements that are languid, slow, and rhythmed with every moan and word that he whispers in your ear, say in your neck after he’s kissed the skin there.

months later when he sees your swollen belly, he feels like he’s won the lottery. he feels like you're a prize he’s won and just needs to show off; realistically, he’s keeping you home as much as possible and going out with you in times of needing outside air. your lower back hurts? he’s watched youtube tutorials on massage techniques that help during pregnancy. you have a strange craving? jason’s running out at midnight to get precisely what you’re crazing. oh, your tits are sore after you’ve finally delivered your baby? there’s nothing to worry about when jason asks a quick, “you want my hands or my mouth?”

[hellfirenacht]

Anomaly Part 3

Summary: You can talk to anyone in school with no problem. At least, anyone who’s not named Eddie Munson.

Tags: Anxious-ish!Reader but not shy, one sided pining, no use of y/n, fem!reader, one sided enemies to lovers, fem!reader

2.4k Words

Part 1, Part 2, Master List

Miles Cooper was still at school the following week, which meant that he was given no consequences for what had happened to you or for blaming Eddie. 

Eddie couldn’t even say he was surprised by this point. If Eddie really had been the one to trip you up, he was sure he’d get suspended or even expelled. It was so close to the end of the year and he could feel that Higgins was looking for any reason to keep him from walking across that stage to get his diploma. 

You hadn’t shown up on Monday. Not that it mattered to Eddie either way, you two didn’t even know each other. But you had cleared his name. That was the thought that kept buzzing around his brain like a mosquito that he just couldn’t swat. Despite the glares and the snide remarks, you had gone out of your way to make sure that he didn’t get in trouble for something he didn’t do, which is more than what he could say for a lot of people at this school.

He had to give you credit for that at least. Not many people outside of his small friend circle would stick up for him like that. 

With work and band practice, it was easy to forget about you until Wednesday when you showed up to English class with a thick white cast around your wrist and arm. Shit, your fall really had done a number on you. You were struggling with juggling your books and they fell off your desk with a clatter, and you thanked the girl next to you for helping you pick them up. 

Eddie would like to think he was above eavesdropping and gossip, but he’d be wrong. 

“What happened?” The girl- Sarah- asked. 

“I face planted on the bleachers at the pep rally.” you said, taking your seat again. “One minute I was trying to get down, and the next I’m getting elbowed and my arm hurt.” 

“I heard someone pushed you” 

Eddie heard that emphasis on someone and gripped his pencil, hearing the subtle sound of wood splintering against his thumb. This was not the time to make a scene. 

“No one pushed me. Miles elbowed me and I fell.” you said firmly. 

You were still defending him, Eddie wasn’t sure how to feel. 

“If you’re gonna spread rumors, could you do me a favor and make it sound more interesting?” You continued, “Like, start telling people that I dived off the bleachers to distract everyone that Miles shit himself.”

Eddie snorted loudly before he could stop himself. He slammed his hand pencil down on the table and covered his mouth. Dammit, why did you have to be funny?

Sarah laughed, much less obnoxiously and agreed before asking to sign your cast. You must be covered in signatures now, as you seemed to be friends with everyone. 

Everyone except him. 

Not that it mattered. 

It was nice and all that you saved him from getting in trouble, but it’s not like you two were ever going to be friends, no matter how funny you were. 

Class started and Eddie spent the rest of class doodling and barely paying attention to the teacher. This was usually how his school days went. Yeah, he had been trying harder in the past two years to graduate and pass his classes but some days his brain just refused to focus on anything important. 

The bell rang and Eddie took his sweet time getting his things together. Next period was his favorite- lunch. 

“Shit.” He heard you mumble as you tried to wrangle your books with one arm. He knew there was a rule about not being allowed to carry around a backpack but, shit, Eddie would have thought you’d get some help. Shouldn’t one of those many signatures be offering to carry your books? 

Obviously not, as you finally managed to tuck your notebook under your arm. You looked flustered, and hot in the face. Your brows were furrowed in concentration and you finally let out a loud groan as your papers went flying everywhere as students for the next class started coming in. 

It was pathetic, and Eddie couldn’t exactly leave you stranded. You cleared his name, so at least he could try and help you out right now. Maybe he’d even figure out what your problem with him was. 

“Here.” Eddie said and grabbed the papers closest to him and picked up your binder before you could stop him. 

Normally when Eddie looked at you, you’d turn your nose up at him and look away. This time, he found himself giving you direct eye contact. Your eyes were wide with surprise that he had stepped in to help, followed by more frustration. 

“Thanks.” you said shortly. 

“Need help getting to the lunch room?” Eddie asked. He’d wait for you to say no, to tell him to get out of your face, and he can walk away with a clear conscience that at least he tried. 

You were staring at him as if he were some sort of alien who had just asked you why the sky wasn’t orange. Yeah ok, he could take the hint. 

“Yes.” 

The word sounded choked out, as if the single syllable was a struggle to say. But you had said it, and Eddie was a man of his word, even though he hadn’t promised you anything. 

Eddie stacked your notebook and binder on top of his. You were still staring at him as if you couldn’t believe he was talking to you. Eddie couldn’t really believe it himself. 

He’d do this small favor for you as a thanks, and then you two could go back to ignoring each other. 

“Lead the way.” He said, offering up his best impression of his dad’s smile. If he was lucky (which Eddie never was) then maybe some of his dad’s Munson Magic might rub off on him enough so that you’d at least relax a little. 

You only nodded and led him out of the classroom. 

You didn’t like the cast and it’s off-putting stark white bandages. You wanted to choose a different color- maybe red or black or even that weird obnoxious toxic green that was offered to you. But your mom decided that white would be better because it would make it easier to sign, so white it was. 

Your parents at least took pity on you Monday, letting you stay home to wallow in embarrassment that you had broken your wrist and fractured your arm in front of all of your classmates. Tuesday they released you back to school, but you had instead skipped getting on the bus (because you could not drive one-handed) and played hooky at the local library. It’s not like anyone would care that someone your age was skipping school. 

Wednesday came, and you forced yourself onto the bus, the first time you had used it since moving to Hawkins. The ride was bumpy and long, and your walkman ran out of batteries halfway to school. 

It wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be. A few people came up and signed your cast, some asking what happened. You just told them the same thing, that Miles elbowed you and you fell. It wasn’t as exciting as the idea of the school Freak attacking you, but you weren’t about to get Eddie involved in something that he had nothing to do with. You were just going to ignore the fact that Eddie had been the reason you were heading in that direction anyway. 

English class rolled around, and you spent most of it poking the inside of your cast with your pencil, trying to scratch an itch that just wouldn’t go away. It was bad enough that you had fucked up your dominant arm, but this was actually Hell. 

When the bell rang, everyone else seemed to be in a huge rush to get out of the classroom. Everyone but Eddie. Obviously. Because of course the one person you were trying to avoid was now slinking around you. 

Your long weekend, you had done your best to try and not think about him. You could handle falling in front of everyone else in school, but with Eddie it was different. Your stomach twisted as you remembered how he had yelled as you fell next to him and how he had looked at you as you had ignored your stinging arm as you ran out of the gym to clear his name. 

It was bad enough he had heard you make a poor joke out of context, you weren’t going to throw him under the bus either. 

“Need help getting to the lunch room?”

Your face was already hot with the embarrassment of not being able to carry your own books. Your backpack had ripped the second you got off the bus, and you lost your math homework to a puddle. You hated that he was still here to begin with, was breaking your wrist already not enough pain and suffering? 

You were staring at him. Fuck- dammit- shit say something back-

“Yes.” 

The word almost got stuck in your throat. The only reason it came out was that as painful and embarrassing as this moment was, what Stacy would do to you if she found out you said no would be far worse. 

Eddie dropped your books on top of his, and gave you a smile that looked so forced that you couldn’t stand to look at him. Was this being done just out of pity? You’d run for the hills if he wasn’t holding you binder hostage. 

You led him through the hallway, and towards your locker. “I need to put some things up.” you said, and he followed you. 

The hallway was already mostly clear, and so no one seemed to pay you much mind. You weren’t sure what the rumor mill would churn out with Eddie carrying your books, but did it even matter? Two more months and you’d be out of this school and none of these people would matter. 

No one except the young man following behind you. 

Eddie dutifully held your books as you put them away. The door to your locker stopped you from seeing his face, which seemed like the perfect time to take the foot out of your mouth that had been there since the pep rally. 

“...I’m... uh... I’m sorry for what I said on Friday.” you started, pretending to rifle through a folder. “About you being in a cult. It was a stupid joke and I shouldn’t have said it.”

Eddie was quiet for a moment, and you felt your whole body tense up as you waited for him to say anything. 

“Yeah we uh.. We aren’t big on sacrificing in Hellfire.” he said carefully. “Had to stop that with the club budget cuts.” 

You had to bite the inside of your cheek and close your eyes tight to keep from laughing. You covered it up with a cough. “Yeah uh... sounds like that’d be a lot of paperwork.” 

You took a slow and deep breath before closing your locker to look at him. He was smiling at you, a far less forced one than before. It was almost the same smile he gave his friends when he didn’t know you were looking. 

It wasn’t much, but it didn’t stop the butterflies from exploding in your chest. You should see a doctor about that. 

“Oh yeah, tons.” Eddie said. “And with all the letters we get about our club being associated with the Devil it was just a bureaucratic headache.”

I know that if I could just talk to him one then I’d be fine. You had told yourself that every single day since these pesky little feelings emerged. Maybe you had been right. The two of you made your way to the cafeteria. 

“You’re just some nerds playing with dice.” you said, and realize that could be taken the wrong way. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that. I’ve also... played board games.” 

God you were acting like a total airhead. Board games? Really? You were acting like your brain was broken rather than your wrist. 

You felt Eddie’s eyes on you, and saw how he also looked unsure about your answer. Whatever was going through his head, he brushed aside. 

“I should also thank you for clearing my name.” he said, changing the subject. “You came running out of the gym and saved my ass.” 

“I wasn’t going to let someone get in trouble just because I fell!” It was the most assured thing you had ever said to Eddie.

“Well, either way I’d say you’re my hero.” Eddie said. “I’m pretty sure if you hadn’t come running to my rescue I’d probably be expelled by now, and then who would be around to corrupt the youth of Hawkins?” 

Hero. Eddie called you his hero. You felt your body buzzing with an energy that you were not in a place to use. 

You two were in the cafeteria now, and you led Eddie over to where Stacy was sitting. Stacy, being the queen of subtlety that she was, was openly gawking at the sight of the two of you together. 

She was giving you a look, and that look said that the second that Eddie was out of earshot you would be giving her a play by play of every single second of this interaction. 

Eddie dropped your books on the table by Stacy.

“Hi, Eddie!” she said in a perky voice. You wanted to kick her, and shot her a warning look which she ignored. “Will you be dining with us today?” 

You wanted to rip your hair out. 

“As much as I would love to spend my lunch period with you two ladies, I’m afraid my freshmen wouldn’t survive out there in the wild without me.” Eddie gave a dramatic bow. 

“Thank you. For helping me.” you said stiffly. Being on the receiving end of Eddie’s theatrics was making your brain blow a fuse. 

Eddie gave you a nod and sauntered off to his usual table where he was immediately hounded by his friends for being seen with you. You wondered what they were thinking. Did you look weird next to Eddie? Were they judging you for not being part of their group?

“Stop drooling.” Stacy said. “Talk.”

I have never broken a bone and have done minimal googling.

Also these chapters are getting longer dammit. This is supposed to be the easy stuff to wright UGH. Also tell me if there's something you wanna see with this, because I'm winging it like I do with all my writing lol

Tag List: @eddiemunsonfuxks @kirsteng42 @strangereads @pedroschka @generoustrashpeach

@sheneedsrocknroll92 @cyanfairywren @crocworkships @tomtomslongdong @aphrogeneias

@ghcstpyre @totheforestandtheocean @stevekeeryswife @dreamyyy222222 @ajnerdess

@sp1dyb0y1008 @projectcampbell @emxxblog @thebadbatchfan

@transparentenemypenguin @ghoulsgraveyard @spread-the-hope @exploding-bonbon @paleidiot

@2spock @c14r3v1b3srs @yujyujj @saramelaniemoon @morganlolitta

@veemoon @mrsrdlw @eddieheart @bambibiest @mylovelycrazyworld

@sassidykassidy @cultish-corner @thedoubleexposurephotography @bambibiest @wheels-of-despair

[imaginespazzi]

Part 6: To Trying Again

Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11

I don't wanna mess this thing up (I don't wanna push too far)

(In which an "evil" writer might surprise you guys just a little bit with this part)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Fluff and Angst

Words: 5.6K

TW: Swearing (I think that's it?)

A/N: Happy Monday lovelies! This is sort of a filler-ish short chapter though I do think it's important to both plot and character development. I'd like to preface this by saying I've never been to Minsk or Park Pieramohi so I'm very much going off of pictures. Editing and I remain on very, very bad terms so pretty please let me know of typos so I can fix them. As always, let me know what you liked, what you disliked and what you'd like to see going forward. Have a lovely rest of your week my loves <3

July 2018 

“You’re being too loud,” Azzi whisper-screams at the blonde girl in front of her as she closes the door to her room behind her with a little too much force. 

Paige turns her head back every-so-slightly with a pronounced eye roll, “will you please relax.”

“I would if you’d just be a little more careful,” Azzi glares, taking cautious steps as if the sound of her sneakers across the carpeted floor could potentially wake up any of the coaches. 

“Azzi,” Paige says exasperatedly, “the coaches are all the way on the other end of the hallway. Besides, they're probably all sleeping.”

And despite her stubbornness, Azzi can concede that Paige has a point there. It’s nearly midnight and the game against Spain earlier in the day might have had a final score that made it seem like the USA U17 women's basketball team had won handily, but the game itself had been draining to say the least. The post-victory dinner had featured a bunch of worn out teenagers gobbling their food without much conversation and a cohort of coaches who seemed like they needed an hour of drinking followed by good night’s sleep. But even the exhaustion of the day hadn’t been enough to prevent Paige Bueckers and her diabolical mind from coming up with the idea to sneak out into the city of Minsk. 

“No,” Azzi had said immediately even before the words had been spoken, that shimmering glint in Paige’s eyes a dead giveaway as she sidled up to Azzi at the salad bar. 

“You don’t even know what I’m going to say,” Paige had pouted. 

“You never say anything good.”

“That’s crazy. You’re so mean to me.”

“So mean,” Azzi had nodded in agreement, “so how about you go and bother someone else.”

“Azzi please. We haven’t had just Paige and Azzi time in ages. Don’t want someone else. Just want you.”

And after that well, there wasn’t really any chance of saying no. Azzi’s only fifteen and she doesn’t know that much about love, but sometimes when Paige looks at her with those earnest blue eyes and a smile that promises i’ll always be here, she thinks the way her heart starts to flutter erratically to a beat of and i wouldn’t want anyone else to stay, might just be the start of her finding out. 

“See,” Paige grins triumphantly as the two girls find their way out of their hotel and onto the street, “told you we wouldn’t get caught. Shit’s just too damn easy.”

Azzi rolls her eyes at the attitude, “don’t tempt fate.”

“Fate’s got nothing in front of Paige Bueckers. I make my own fate,” Paige winks as she links her arms through Azzi. 

It’s a mundane amount of contact, absolutely nothing special to it, but Azzi feels herself shiver in spite of the humidity that’s circling around them. She doesn’t quite know how it happened. One moment she was staring across the court, judging the skinny blonde practicing free throws and coming to the conclusion that she’d be no threat; the next moment said girl was next to her on the plane back from Argentina and Azzi, a self-admitted introvert, found herself rattling off about everything and nothing with this girl who seemed to have discovered the keys to all of Azzi’s locks. Hours of talking had bled into days and days had bled into months and despite the fact that facetime had taken the place of in-person conversations, the word friendship had seemed too cavalier a word to describe the relationship Paige and Azzi were building. 

Paige had whittled away all of Azzi’s carefully constructed armor until she was buried deep underneath her skin and Azzi’s sure there’s no knife in the world sharp enough to carve the blonde out from where she lives underneath Azzi’s ribcage. Azzi doesn’t want anyone to try and dig her out. She  thinks she might bleed out if they do. 

“Az,” Paige whines, waving her free hand in the younger girl’s face, “are you even paying attention to me?”

“That depends,” Azzi hums, “are you saying anything interesting?”

“I’m always saying something interesting.”

“You’re always saying something. The interesting is subjective,” Azzi teases, laughing when Paige pouts. 

“I sneak you out to give you an adventure and this is how you repay me? With insults?” Paige puts a dramatic hand to her heart.

“Walking boring streets is not an adventure. Virginia has streets too.”

“It’s not about the streets, it’s about where the streets lead to,” Paige says with grave seriousness. 

Azzi raises an eyebrow, “are you entering your philosopher Paige era?”

“I’d make a good philosopher,” Paige waggles her own eyebrows as they two girls find themselves entering park Pieramohi. 

“Virginia has parks too, you know Paige?” Azzi says skeptically. 

Paige lets out a dramatic sigh, “will you just keep walking, woman. Sometimes I wonder if you even like me?”

It’s said like a joke but there’s a hint of insecurity beaded into it that buzzes in Azzi’s ears as she wraps a careful hand around Paige’s wrist, stopping the two of them where they are. 

“Hey,” she whispers softly, nudging the older girl, “you don’t ever have to wonder with me. I’m always gonna like you Paige. Even if you’re a pain in my ass half the time.”

“Had to ruin it with the last part, didn't you?” Paige complains but her eyes twinkle at the reassurance, “Just so you know I’m gonna be a pain in your ass forever.”

“I’m gonna hold you to that,” Azzi promises as they continue strolling through the park. 

The silence is peaceful and the breeze that flows around them is like a comforting hug. And Azzi thinks that she’d be okay if there wasn’t a destination for them to get to, as long as the journey came with Paige by her side. 

“We’re almost there,” Paige says slowly, a slightly nervous edge to her voice. 

“You sure you’re not just getting us lost-” the teasing quip dies on Azzi’s tongue as she stares at the scenery in front of her. They’re standing on the edge of a bridge overlooking a lake and it looks like something out of a disney fairytale; the picturesque image of green trees silhouetted against a magically starry night is captured perfectly on the still surface of the water that’s flowing beneath. As Azzi peers across the railing, Paige right next to her, she feels her breath hitch at the reflection that peers up at her. Because the view in front of them is beautiful but Paige’s eyes are on Azzi and she’s staring at her as if the view is nothing in comparison. 

“C’mon,” the blonde says softly, lacing her fingers through Azzi’s as she tugs her along, “I have a plan.”

“There’s more?” Azzi asks in awe as Paige guides her to the gazebo in the middle of the bridge. 

“Just a little bit,” Paige says and oh- that shy smile is different. Azzi doesn’t think she’s seen that one yet and she makes a mental note to herself, to memorize it and store it along with all of Paige’s other smiles that make Azzi’s insides swoop like a rollercoaster. 

She watches intently as Paige begins to peruse through the purple rucksack she’d been carrying. The first thing out of it is a picnic blanket and then a horde of different snacks, all of Azzi’s favorites. Two plastic champagne glasses are next and then a sheepish grin as Paige pulls out a bottle of soda. 

“Couldn’t quite risk trying to get alcohol,” Paige scratches at her neck. 

“Next time maybe,” Azzi shrugs as she helps Paige set up the arrangement and she feels herself fluttering at the thought of doing this again and again and again. 

“How’d you even find this place?” she asks as Paige begins to pour out the soda. 

“You ever heard of googling?”

Azzi rolls her eyes at Paige’s teasing smirk, “how’d you even have time to do this?”

Paige is quiet for a second as she passes Azzi her glass, “wanted to do something special for us,” she says quietly, keeping her eyes intently on what she’s doing as she pours out a drink for herself, “wasn’t hard to find time for you.”

“You could be a poet, Paige Bueckers,” Azzi whispers and she knows it’s unfair of her but she thinks it anyway. As long as all your poems are about me. 

“The poets are lucky I chose a ball instead of a pen. They’d be out of a job otherwise,” Paige says, trying to ease back into the more familiar arrogance. 

“Always so humble,” Azzi says, rolling her eyes as she holds up her glass, “alright what are toasting to?”

“I came up with this whole thing. You can come up with a toast,” Paige scrunches her nose and Azzi shakes her head at it. 

She thinks for a second before smiling brightly at the girl in front of her, “let’s just keep it simple and toast to us.”

“How original,” Paige teases but she clinks her glass against Azzi’s anyways, “here’s to us.”

“Here’s to us,” Azzi repeats as they both take sips of soda. 

They melt into a comfortable silence, relishing in this rare moment where there isn’t a screen separating them from each other. Facetimes is a wonderful creation but a blurry screen, Azzi decides, doesn’t nearly do justice to just how damn pretty Paige is. Her hair is golden as it basks in the glow of the moon and Azzi wonders if the stars are jealous of how brilliantly the blonde’s blue eyes twinkle.

It’s Paige who speaks first, her voice hesitant, “you uh- you never asked me how my date went a couple of weeks ago.”

Azzi feels her whole body go rigid. She’d almost forgotten about Paige’s wretched date. The blonde had told her about it a couple of days before the actual event and Azzi had played the dutiful role of a best friend, teasing Paige with a light-heartedness she didn’t feel and congratulating her with an excitement that came from anywhere but from the heart. She’d purposely avoided Paige’s calls the day of the date and then two days after, coming up with some sorry excuse she no longer remembers. On the third day, when the hollow ache of i miss her voice in her chest had become too hard to ignore, Azzi had finally picked up the phone and diverted the conversation straight to a different topic. She hadn’t thought of the date since. 

“Guess it slipped my mind,” she says airily, fingers gripping the edge of the picnic blanket. 

“I could tell you about it now,” Paige says slowly. 

I’d rather you didn’t, Azzi thinks but that’s a thought that veers a little too out of the sphere of best-friend-isms and so she simply nods her head, “y-yeah tell me about it. How was it?”

“It was nice,” Paige begins and there’s something hidden in her tone that Azzi can't quite place but she’s a little too busy sulking at the idea of Paige with anybody else to try and decipher it, “dinner was good. Took her to a movie after. That was good too.”

“That’s cool P. I’m glad- I’m glad you had fun,” Azzi says nonchalantly, gripping the glass in her hands just a little too tight. 

“I didn’t.”

“What?”

“I didn’t really have that much fun,” Paige clarifies and Azzi gawks at her in confusion as the older girl fidgets with the frayed edges of the picnic blankets, “just didn’t- didn’t feel right. Don’t think she had much fun either. She never texted me after.”

“What a bitch,” Azzi bites out, suddenly irrationally angry at a girl she’d never met because how could anyone possibly not have fun with Paige, “I’m sorry P. You deserve-”

“I didn’t care that she didn’t text back-”

“Still. It’s just the decent thing to do,” Azzi rants. 

“Maybe,” Paige shrugs, “but I didn’t have time to care about that. I had other things on my mind. Like the fact that you weren’t talking to me.”

Azzi flinches at the accusation, rushing out her previous defense, “I was busy.”

“Bullshit,” Paige sneers. 

“Paige-”

“But I get it,” the older girl says softly as she reaches for Azzi’s hand, tugging the brunette closer to her and Azzi feels something inside her erupt at how close their faces are, “I probably wouldn’t have talked to you for two days either if you went on a date with someone else.”

“Oh,” Azzi breathes out and there’s probably something more eloquent she should say but there’s this realization of maybe you feel it too that’s beginning to creep up her spine, rendering her speechless as Paige continues to stare at her like she’s mapping out all the tiniest details of Azzi’s face. 

“The whole date, I kept thinking how you wouldn’t order what she ordered off the menu or that you would probably hit my hand if I tried to steal something off your plate but then give it to me anyway. And that the movie would never have been so quiet with you and we’d probably get yelled at for giggling too much and I-” Paige pauses, dragging in a deep breath, “I definitely would’ve kissed you at the end.”

A sigh of relief escapes Azzi’s lips, “you didn’t kiss her.”

“No,” Paige confirms as she drops her forehead against Azzi’s, “but I-,” the blonde gulps nervously and Azzi can’t help the way her hand reaches up to caress the blush forming on Paige’s cheeks. 

“Ask me,” she whispers.

“I really want to kiss you,” Paige confesses, voice shaking slightly, “can I kiss you?”

Azzi doesn’t say anything, choosing to reply instead by pressing her lips softly against Paige’s. They move slowly at first, testing each other’s boundaries and savoring their first taste of each other. Azzi pulls the older girl onto her lap, hands firmly on Paige’s hips as the other girl clasps her own hands around Azzi’s neck.  It’s a little messy and uncoordinated and Azzi thinks they might need to practice a little more to really get it right but still, it’s everything.

And Azzi just knows

She knows it then just the way she knew Tim was meant to be her dad. The way she knew Jon and José were meant to be her brothers. The way she knew she was meant to play basketball. Azzi knows that she’s meant to fall hopelessly in love with Paige Bueckers. 

March 2033

There are three things Azzi should do. 

Push Paige away 

Tell her this a bad idea 

Run the fuck away

She does none of the above.

Instead Azzi kisses Paige back. 

And it’s still everything. Like the sun and moon are colliding and creating something so insanely powerful; something that feels so eternal. 

There’s nothing soft or slow about it as Paige presses every inch of herself into Azzi until she can feel Paige’s heartbeat as strongly as she can feel her own. It might be impossible but she swears their hearts are talking to each other, tapping out rhythms against each other’s chests that confess all the things their owners are too scared to say. And Azzi wants nothing more than to lose herself completely in the moment because Paige’s lips feel like a drug and Azzi thinks she might just be an addict in relapse. 

Except to relapse, you need to have recovered. And Azzi doesn’t think she ever fully recovered from Paige. 

It isn’t until she feels her back hit the edge of a desk and the sound of something crashing onto the floor infiltrates her ears, that Azzi finally comes to her senses. She tears her lips away from Paige as the older woman groans in protest, arms tightening their hold on Azzi’s waist so she can still have some semblance of control over the situation. And really Azzi knows she’s strong enough to escape Paige’s grip, could easily fight it if she wanted to. But well, she doesn’t want to. And Azzi’s tired of doing things she doesn’t want to do. 

“Paige-”

“If the next words out of your mouth are ‘we can’t do this’, Azzi I swear to god I’m going to kill you,” Paige threatens, pressing her forehead against Azzi’s. 

Azzi laughs softly and she can feel Paige’s whole body relax at the sound of it and like clockwork, she feels the tension beginning to release from her own muscles, “if you kill me then we definitely can’t do this.”

“I’ll revive you after or something,” Paige says with a half-smirk. 

“Or something,” Azzi rolls her eyes, “but we can’t-”

“Azzi,” Paige groans. 

“We can’t do this right now and definitely not here,” Azzi amends, alluding to the fact that they’re still in Steph’s office. 

Paige raises an eyebrow, cocking her head slightly, “but we can do this later? Somewhere else?”

The question lingers between them as Azzi bites her lip. She knows what this is, knows that it’s Paige putting the ball in her court. A ‘no’ would likely be the end of things and that scares her more than she’s willing to admit but she’s not quite ready to commit to a ‘yes’ yet, even if that flame of desire inside of her, the one that can only be lit by Paige, is blazing hot through her veins. 

“I don’t know,” Azzi says carefully, shivering at the way Paige’s thumb is rubbing circles against her waist, the flimsy material of her shirt doing nothing to prevent the goosebumps forming on her skin, “TBD.”

“That’s not a no,” Paige says carefully, hope blossoming freely on her face. 

“That’s not a yes either,” Azzi warns half-heartedly. 

“But it’s not a no,” Paige presses. 

“No,” Azzi admits, playing with the neckline of Paige’s shirt, “it’s not a no.”

And Azzi’s so scared of the future, scared that if she lets herself burn, she’ll incinerate everyone around her but there’s something in the way Paige smiles at her words. Something that feels a lot like a promise of i’ll be the rain that washes out the fire before you can turn us to ashes. 

“I can work with that,” Paige says softly, tilting Azzi’s chin up. 

“So desperate to get back into my pants Bueckers,” Azzi teases and she expects a witty remark in return but instead she’s met with nothing but sincerity. 

“So desperate to get back into your life,” Paige whispers, voice cracking on the last two words. 

Tears prickle against Azzi’s waterline as she stares in awe at the girl in front of her. Sometimes she thinks Paige doesn’t even know that there’s a halo of goodness sitting above her head, doesn't even know just how beautiful her soul is. Paige is stunning on the outside; it’s something no one can deny. But it’s nothing compared to how gorgeous she is on the inside, nothing compared to how kind, how humble, how forgiving Paige is. 

“Why?” Azzi asks, her tone rife with heaviness. 

“Why what?” 

“After everything, after all this time, why would you still want to be in my life?” the tears fall harder as Azzi struggles to breathe, “I- I broke your heart. I broke us. How could you possibly want that again. How could you possibly want me again?”

Paige's eyes soften as she cups Azzi’s cheeks, thumbs brushing away at the drops of water running down them, “because you’re Azzi. My Azzi. And I get it- I get that you’re not ready to be all in on this with me yet and if I’m being honest with myself, I’m not completely ready either. But we can work on it right? Take it slow and see where it goes and maybe we’ll- maybe we’ll be even better this time.”

“You think so?”

“I believe so.”

Azzi presses her lips delicately against Paige’s, reveling in the way it makes Paige’s breath hitch. She pulls away faster than she would like herself and Paige chases her lips, eyes still closed. 

“What was that for,” the blonde asks, slightly dazed. 

“For being my Paige.”

***

Azzi taps her foot impatiently against her wooden patio as she glances at her phone clock for the umpteenth time. Paige is almost twenty minutes late to pick her and Stephie up to go to dinner at her parent’s house. The invites had technically been separate but Paige had insisted that they needed to go together because Paige didn’t want to walk into the house alone. Azzi’s not sure why Paige is nervous to see her dad and brothers again, not when she’s pretty sure they’re bursting with excitement to see the blonde whose pictures still have a permanent place on the family photo wall, but if Paige wants Azzi by her side, well she’s not going to say no. Not anymore. 

 It’s been a week since they’d agreed to take things slow and Azzi’s still not quite sure what exactly that means, but she thinks she likes it. She likes being able to call Paige and not having to come up with a lame excuse for why. She likes that she and Paige can take Stephie out for ice cream after Curry Camp and they don’t have to pretend they’re only tolerating each other’s presence for the little girl’s sake. She likes that they can brush their pinkies while walking and instead of jolting away, they simply just link them together. There’s boundaries of course. No sleepovers at either of their houses. No doing anything more than kissing. No kissing in front of anyone else and definitely no kissing in front of Stephie. No doing anything in front of Stephie really. And there’s still so much mountain left to climb but as long as they’re pushing up it together, Azzi doesn’t think there’s any incline steep enough to stop her from continuing up this path.

“Miss Buecks,” Stephie squeals as Paige’s car rounds the corner into Azzi’s driveway. 

Paige steps out of the car, arms wide open and ready to catch Stephie as the little girl goes tumbling down the front porch, aiming straight for the blonde. Azzi’s not an artist by any means but if she was, she thinks she could paint a thousand pictures of Stephie and her Miss Buecks. It terrifies Azzi a little bit, just how perfectly Stephie fits into Paige’s side but it calms her too because there’s a part of her that’s in love with how much they love each other.

“You’re late Bueckers,” Azzi chides as she follows her daughter’s path down the patio stairs. 

Paige grins, shifting Stephie on her lap as she opens the side door to her car to pull out two bouquets of flowers

“Will these make up for it?” she asks slyly as she hands the larger one, an assortment of pink flowers, to Azzi and a slightly smaller bouquet of purple hydrangeas to Stephie. 

“These are so pretty Miss Buecks,” Stephie gushes before pressing a kiss to Paige’s cheek left cheek and Paige beams at the compliment, “thank you Miss Buecks.”

“You took that long to get flowers?” Azzi asks with a raised eyebrow. 

“Mama,” Stephie chides immediately, “you’re supposed to thank someone when they give you a gift.”

“Yeah Azzi,” Paige’s eyes glimmer with mirth, “thank me like Stephie thanked me. Don’t you think Mama owes me a kiss on the cheek Steph?”

Azzi narrows her eyes at the scheming pair in front of her as Stephie nods animatedly at Paige’s question, “yeah Mama you owe Miss Buecks a kiss on the cheek.”

Shaking her head, Azzi walks over to Paige taking deliberately steady steps. Slowly Azzi leans in, puckering her lips. Paige closes her eyes and Azzi winks at Stephie who’s eyes widen. 

“I’m waiting,” Paige sing-songs, a self-satisfied smirk taking over her features. 

And instead of the promised kiss, Azzi licks a sloppy strip down Paige’s cheek and the blonde shrieks as both Azzi and Stephie burst into laughter.

“EW AZZI GROSS,” Paige whines, hurriedly rubbing her shirt against her cheek, “is this what you’re teaching your daughter?”

“I’m teaching my daughter not to let anyone manipulate her,” Azzi says, giving Paige a careful look, “now why were you late?”

Paige grins sheepishly as she opens the door to the backseat of the door. A lavender car seat is placed on the left side of the car and Azzi feels her heart lurch with no one’s ever cared like this. 

“It’s pu-ple,” Stephie claps excitedly, “is it for me?”

“Of course it is,” Paige confirms, booping Stephie’s nose before looking at Azzi, “it’s just- we uh- we always have to take your car cause it has the car seat and moving it between cars is such a hassle. So I just thought- you know- I just thought it’d be cool- useful- practical- if I had one too? And this way if you ever need me to take Stephie off you then I uh- then you don’t have to worry about me driving. I don’t- I don’t really knows much about car seats but I looked it up online before and the person at the store agreed that this is definitely the best one- like I swear it’s safe-”

She’s cut off by the feel of Azzi’s lips pressed to her cheeks. 

“Thank you Paige.”

***

Just as Azzi expected, Paige merges herself back into the Fudd family with the same ease she’d first had when she’d carved out a place for herself almost a decade and a half ago. It’s a little emotional at first when Tim opens the door, a smile almost as big as him decorating his face as he pulls Paige into a hug even before she can say a word. 

“Welcome home kid,” he whispers into her blonde hair and Azzi doesn’t have to see Paige’s face to know that her best friend is blinking away tears. 

Guilt surges in Azzi’s stomach and she tries to swallow away the lump of i took this from her that’s blocking her throat. It had been so simple at 15 to give Paige a part of her world; Azzi hadn’t thought twice about it. And then with the snap of her fingers, she’d taken that world away. She knows her parents had never cut Paige out; hell they’d been at her wedding to some other woman -and Azzi had pushed them to go knowing Paige would need it- but it was a far cry from what they’d been. A far cry from when Paige’s schedule was a key factor while planning Fudd family summers. 

“Hey,” Stephie pouts, tiny hands crossed over her small body “I thought you always gave me the first hug Pops.”

“We’ll make an exception today,” Tim says with a wink before letting Paige walk into Katie’s arms and spinning his granddaughter around, “but you’re always gonna be my favorite.”

“I better be,” Stephie threatens and the adults around her laugh. 

And finally it’s Azzi's turn to be pulled into one of her dad’s patent bear hugs. She goes willingly, always at her most warmest in the arms of the man whose blood might not run through her veins, but whose love had always protected her from the cruelties of the world. 

“You look really happy today sweetheart,” Tim says softly. 

Azzi’s eyes flitter over her father’s shoulder to where Jon and José are embroiling Paige in a group hug with Stephie in the middle of it, screaming about finally having their “white sister” back, as Katie and José’s fiancé Tallulah roll their eyes at the group of them, and she can’t help but smile into her dad’s shirt, “I feel pretty happy today.”

*** 

“You cheated,” Jon yells. 

“Miss Buecks does not cheat,” Stephie yells back loyally. 

“Don’t get into this Stephie. You don’t know her like we do,” José glares at Paige who narrows her eyes at him, “she’s been stealing from the bank.”

“Miss Buecks does not  steal,” Stephie defends again, wrapping her arms around Paige’s neck from behind as the blonde presses a quick kiss against Stephie’s temple. 

“It’s okay Stephie,” Paige reassures, gently swinging the little girl into her lap, “some people are just sore losers.”

“Can’t be a sore loser because I didn’t lose-” José coughs and Jon corrects himself immediately, “because we didn’t lose.”

“Y’all let it go,” Tallulah groans, leaning her head back against the sofa, “it’s literally just monopoly. Please, I'm so tired.”

“Just monopoly? JUST MONOPOLY?” José guffaws dramatically, “I can’t believe I’m marrying someone who doesn’t understand that it isn’t just monopoly Tallulah. It’s about liars and cheats and honor-”

“Miss Buecks has plenty of honor,” Stephie says stubbornly, leaning her head back against Paige’s chest.

Jon rounds on Azzi, who’s been silently watching the situation, “did you help her cheat?”

“Excuse me?” Azzi asks, glaring at her brother from where she’s been comfortable reclining on the sofa. She’d opted to be the banker instead of playing, content just handing out money to the rest of them while watching the game unfold. But really she hadn’t been paying much attention to anyone else but her daughter and Paige. Stephie didn’t quite understand the rules yet and so she was always on someone’s team. It had been a given tonight, that of course she would be with Paige. And Azzi had watched, trying not to be too obvious, with a foolish grin on her face, as her two favorite people whispered to each other, Paige listening intently to all of Stephie’s ideas whether they were good or bad. 

“Oh good point,” José turns to look at Azzi too, “you’re the banker, did you help Paige cheat?”

“Mama would never cheat,” Stephie argues defiantly as Azzi pushes herself up from the sofa to send a menacing look to both of her brothers. 

“I’m not going to dignify that accusation with a justification,” Azzi says, standing so she’s towering over her two brothers who are still sitting on the floor, “now clean up the game. It’s almost Stephie’s bedtime.”

 They might be well into their twenties and José might be taller than her now, but they’re still not quite  immune to Azzi’s wrath. Tallulah and Paige snicker as the two men, sulking at each other, obey their older sister's command without another word. 

“You’ve gotta teach me how you do that,” Tallulah says, hi-fiving Azzi who smirks in response. 

“Miss Buecks,” Stephie whispers, “what does dig-ni-fy mean?”

“Mean she’s not gonna entertain your uncles being dumba-”

“Paige!”

“Being dumbapples,” Paige corrects and both Azzi and Stephie give her an odd look at her ridiculous attempt at saving the bad word from leaving her lips. 

“Alright Stephie-bean,” Azzi says, pulling her daughter off of Paige’s lap, “it’s late enough. Off to brush your teeth you go.”

Stephie looks hesitantly between the staircase leading up to the guest bedroom -where she and Azzi normally stayed- and Paige. 

“Can Miss Buecks stay with us tonight?” she asks softly, one hand bunching in Paige’s shirt as she stares up at her mother with large doe eyes, “please Mama.”

“Stephie I don’t think-” Paige begins, ready to stick to the boundaries they’d laid out for themselves and really Azzi should let her; should follow her lead really.  

Except the words are tumbling out of her mouth before she can stop them, “yeah she can- she can stay.”

“YAYY,” Stephie squeals, jumping into Azzi’s arms as Paige stares up at her in surprise, “thank you, thank you, thank you Mama. I’m so happy,” she swings from Azzi to Tallulah, “aunty Tully did you hear? Miss Buecks is gonna stay with us and you can make her your famous pancakes in the morning.”

“I can, can I?” Tallulah asks with a raised eyebrow as she lets Stephie and her excited chatter lead her towards the bathroom. With Jon and José both having already started towards their own rooms and Azzi’s parents fast asleep, it leaves just Paige and Azzi in the living room. 

“You’re okay with me staying?” Paige asks softly, finally lifting herself from the floor and onto her feet. 

Azzi scratches the back of her neck, “if- if you want to. You don’t have to. I can- I’ll explain to Stephie-”

“I want to,” Paige says, taking a cautious step towards Azzi, “but the rules?”

“This doesn’t count,” Azzi justifies and Paige smirks, taking another step towards the brunette. 

“It doesn’t?”

“We said no sleeping over at each other’s places. This is my parent’s house. So technically it doesn’t count,” Azzi shrugs, trying to keep her face from breaking into a grin as Paige moves one more step closer. 

“And where exactly am I sleeping?” Paige asks with a knowing grin as she loops an arm around Azzi’s waist, briefly checking to make sure no one’s around. 

Azzi tilts her head, letting the grin break through, “I think Stephie would like it if you slept with us.”

“Ah well if that’s what Stephie would like,” Paige says, nodding commiseratingly. 

“For Stephie’s sake,” Azzi repeats as she wraps her arm around Paige’s neck, pressing her forehead against the older girl’s and letting herself just breathe in the peace that comes with being all consumed by Paige. 

“Azzi,” Paige’s voice is laced with uncharacteristic vulnerability as she speaks again, “you won’t- you won’t run away again tomorrow morning will you?”

“No,” Azzi promises, gently brushing her lips against Paige’s, “I won’t run away again.”

[wosoragebaiter69]

forgotten about you

barça femeni x teen!reader

request: here

A/N: i just know alexia turned off the tv during the game 😭

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

You wake up, today is what could be described as a neutral day but it’s still your birthday nonetheless. You didn’t want to leave your bed, but you had to. Your family never really celebrated your birthday, only really caring about your brother and his dreams.

Even if it wasn’t the best day for you, a small part of your mind hoped that someone would wish you a happy birthday, at least Alexia anyways. It’s not like you told them though, the Barça instagram page would probably announce it.

You go through your regular movements of the day, traffic is light and you make it just in time.

Walking through, the admin wishes you a happy birthday, you smile lightly saying thanks and continuing to walk into the change room. However when you’re there it’s the same as any old day, it breaks your heart a little but you wouldn’t tell anyone that.

You’re quieter than usual walking to your cubby, it isn’t much of a change considering you’ve been one of the quieter ones since you joined barca, preferring to only be loud late at night when blasting music in your car.

It’s when even Alexia comes in and doesn’t say Happy Birthday that you feel even more hurt than before, out of everyone who would know, you’d just hoped she would. It’s not her fault though, you didn’t tell anyone. Why would she?

Training seems to be a blur, you miss the looks your older teammates give you at certain points. You’ve essentially become someone with no emotions which has somehow made you have a great session. Which in all honesty did not mend your shattering heart, no matter the praises the coaches had given you.

You make an effort to miss everyone after training and head straight home, you didn’t shower and just got up and left ignoring your confused teammates. No matter how much of an introvert you were, you’d always make time to say goodbye. It was a sign to everyone else that something had happened.

You make way to your car and drive off straight away, inevitably you end up sobbing halfway through. Unable to keep your emotions inside.

- - - - -

In the locker room, when you were gone there was silence. A pondering in the air of sorts. Mapi breaks it.

“Is she ok? She’s usually quiet but this… she’d at least say something.” Her statement lingers in the air, no one knowing what to say.

“Oh shit.” The unmistakable voice of Lucy Bronze cuts through the tension.

“Qué?” Many voices say at once. Lucy turns her phone around and shows the birthday announcement from the Barcelona Instagram page.

“How did we not know? Why didn’t she say anything?” Alexia sounds heartbroken, she cares for you deeply and to miss something so important is heartbreaking.

“I’m not sure.” Ingrid’s voice cracks and it looks like she’s about to cry.

Alexia is quick to regain her composure.

“Ok, we messed up. But, we can make this right. In the time I go to her house, talk and get her to come out, you all should do something. Plan a party and we’ll be there in like 1-2 hours. Got it?” The girls nod, seemingly ready to organise something not too big but enough to make up for what they didn’t know.

“Ingrid do you want to come with me?” The captain asks the Norwegian who nods, saying farewell to her girlfriend and teammates. You were very close with her, she took you under her wing a lot and you looked up to her.

- - - - -

You’re crying on your couch when there’s a knock on the door, thinking it’s preachers you ignore it, hoping they’ll leave. Only, the noise gets louder so you wipe your tears and trudge slowly toward the door.

Upon opening, Alexia and Ingrid immediately wrap you in a bone-crushing hug.

“What’s this for?” You say, you thought they’d forgotten about you.

“Don’t act like you don’t know, we’re sorry we didn’t know it was your birthday. We’ll make it up to you.” At Alexia’s words you start crying again.

“No Ale, it’s fine. I shouldn’t have expected anything. I didn’t tell you guys.” You say, feeling slightly bad.

“Elskling, no matter what we should’ve known, were your teammates and we didn’t even do any digging to find it. We made no effort before when we should have. Don’t ever feel like you should dismiss it. It obviously means something.” At her rant, you seem to understand her words as they compute in your mind.

“We did bring you something though nena. One from me and one from Mapi and Ingrid. Then we are going for a drive, ok?” You nod gratefully and get ready for what the two are giving you.

“Here you go.” Ingrid is first, she gives you two small boxes. You open the first one and it’s the Miss Dior perfume you’ve wanted for ages but haven’t ended up getting because you were too busy.

“I- thanks Ingrid.” You beam, she smiles softly back and points to the other one, you open it up carefully revealing a Dior charms bracelet. Your mouth opens wide.

“This is… thank you so much!” You place it down wrapping Ingrid in a hug.

“I’m glad you like it, I heard you said Dior was your favourite designer so I just figured.” It seems your broken heart from before was sealing up because she remembered something you’d told her weeks ago.

Alexia watches the interaction, smiling and happy to see you happy. Not the shell of a person you were at training because they forgot.

Luckily for her and Ingrid, there was a mall on the way to your house with many shops which would definitely satisfy what they needed to get you.

After speaking to Ingrid, you turn to Alexia who is also grinning and hands you a box.

“Aquí.”

You unwrap it, it’s quite big and heavy. When seeing the contents your eyes widen.

“Is this…” She nods her head, smirking. It’s a PS5, Alexia had been pretty strict on no video game consoles considering she wanted you to have a healthy sleep schedule.

“I didn’t think you’d ever allow it- Thank you Ale.” You bring her into a hug before unwrapping it fully and staring at the three things you had received in awe.

“Come on, get dressed we have places to be.” Alexia pulls you from your staring, you get dressed pretty quickly and you’re out of the house in 15 minutes.

- - - - -

You arrived at Patri’s house a little later and walked inside. The rest of the team were there, balloons everywhere and most importantly a cake with 19 on it being brought over by Frido.

Everyone’s singing and your face heats up at all the attention, feeling warm because of the love you’re receiving at the current moment.

When the singing dies down the Swede whispers to you softly.

“Make a good wish kid, it’ll be great.” You nod blowing out the candles and get given a knife to cut down the middle. It’s a pretty plain cake, but if you’re going to be honest you always loved when cakes weren’t so detailed.

The rest of the evening went by in bliss, people apologising and overall having a great time. Yes, they might’ve forgotten. But, they knew their mistake and made this the best birthday you’d ever had.

—————————————————————————

Finally wrote this.. I took too long to write it i’m sorry anon

can you tell what designer i like? (miss dior smells so good i feel rich when wearing it)

anyways i literally need to stop eating original kebab, like it’s so good and taking too much of my money PLEASE

[shurisneakers]

unsolved (i)

Summary: Bucky doesn't even believe in the paranormal. So who the hell thought it was a good idea to stick him in a series about everything haunted for the internet's amusement? With his loose-canon of a teammate who has no concept of subtlety or any shits left to give, to make things even worse. (Buzzfeed unsolved AU)

Warnings: swearing, frustrated bucky at his little shit supreme, Very Loud reader, images and memes that all have alt texts.

A/N: yes this is literally harmless in a different font. do not ask me if anything doesn't make sense. i cannot explain. i resurface every 3 years to present you with ideas born from menty b's. ANYWAY shout out to my beloved ryan and shane. pls enjoy <3

Bucky doesn’t appeal to the youths.

Apparently. 

On God, he cannot fathom why.

He had definitely left the house in the last six months, maybe. Smiled in at least two pictures that existed on the internet. He even knew what Discord was. Sort of.  

By all accounts, he should be treated as the modern day icon that he was.  

“The youths?” he repeats, the word so foreign on his tongue it felt odd to even say it.

“Your numbers are the lowest of the whole team.” The latest tech-dude, with a tablet twelve models ahead of the one Bucky had in his room, tells him monotonously. “Wilson, Romanoff and Barton score the highest. Everyone else lies around the middle. You are dead-last.”

Bucky has the audacity to look offended. 

“Anything to say?” Their PR head, Maya, asks him, amused. 

He stares, formulating the wittiest one liner he could in three seconds.

“I don’ care,” he mumbles. 

Maya sighs. “Look, the team took the decision together. As far as I’m aware, you are still a member. You need some PR if you guys want to stay in the public’s good books.”

“No one’s gonna listen to me.” Bucky wasn’t exactly the poster child for American values. He couldn’t even vote until three years ago, and that came only after the full wrath of a Steve Rogers descended on the email inbox of the DMV. 

“That’s why it’s important to get them to like you,” Maya emphasizes. “Or the idea of you at least. A very sanitized, corporate friendly version.”

His eyebrow twitches unintentionally.  

“And also you signed the contract.”

Well. Shit. 

Truth be told– and he has openly and rather loudly stated this on numerous occasions even especially when no one asked– he doesn’t understand why they need a PR team. The world has calmed down significantly over the last few years. Bucky hadn’t really been out crime-fighting as much as he was people-watching. There hasn’t been an earth-shatteringly dystopian-level event in the longest time, and there seemed to be a group of spandex-clad teenagers who seemed to do a good job at taking care of them when they did threaten to occur. Go kids.

Even if they needed PR, he could arguably understand the appeal of Sam and Nat and why the people would want to see more of them. Bucky, on the other hand, looked like he crawled onto Earth most days of the week. 

“What do I have to do?” he asks ultimately, knowing there was no way to get out of this. “Interviews?”

The intern shares a look with Maya. Bucky shares a look with the ceiling. 

“The team agreed to do a series of videos, each focusing on a different niche,” she begins, “Crash courses on science, pointing out mistakes in spy movies. Once a week.”

Bucky nods along. He can pinpoint Bruce and Nat for those.

Maya stares at him.

Bucky stares back.

“So,” she says slowly, like he’s a moron, “you would–”

“No.” 

The intern sighs heavily like they discussed that this was going to happen. Bucky was getting predictable. This annoys him even further, for some reason.

“Only once a week, and it doesn’t have to be anything crazy–”

“I’m not doing videos,” he interjects. “I’ll tweet a few times. I’ll even go outside. But ’m not doin’ videos.”

A big step was to get the Avengers off Twitter after the regular shit-storm that occurs every time they’d quote-tweet another politician calling them shitheads. Getting them back on seems counterproductive. 

“Fine,” Maya relents, looking at the intern. “We'll work something out.”

Bucky leans back in his chair, and meditating on ways he can weasel his way out of those too.

So they stick him in a couple of interviews.

Bucky, as the recluse extraordinaire that he was, does unsurprisingly terrible at them.

Variety does a piece on him that was supposed to take up 2 pages. They send back half a page worth of usable material and Bucky gets a lecture on how monosyllables don't count as answers.

He grunts in return. Maya’s itch to smack his shoulder with the rolled up draft increases.

They set him up for pap walks. Just him getting fast food for the team, or sitting in the park.

They don’t take into account that Bucky was trained professionally for years on how to hide, sneak in and out of places without a soul knowing he was ever there. 

The paparazzi spend three hours waiting for him outside the pizza place, while he’s been home for two hours with two demolished pepperonis and an order of mozzarella sticks. 

They give him access to his Twitter. 

He tweets some dumb shit and gets shadow banned by that evening. 

Maya is sick and tired, and the interns have shifted three times since the whole ordeal started. Bucky honestly feels a little bad. Maybe he should try to be like Scott, who not only wrote a book, finger-gunned at photographers, did an interview a week, but also agreed to a podcast and a video series about literally anything they suggested. 

“Play nice,” Sam tells Bucky one evening. 

It’s an off-hand comment, not even really looking at him while he says it. 

Bucky doesn’t need to ask what he’s referring to, but he thinks that maybe he has gone too far.

He begrudgingly agrees. 

Therefore, it begins. 

They stick him in the background of a few videos. Just to interact, add his commentary on what was going on, suggestions. 

Then the jokes really start.

“I just don’t got anything to add,” Bucky tries, in a failure of an attempt to justify his lack of contribution. 

Maya only stares at him, but Bucky swears he can hear her curse quietly, even though her lips don’t move even a millimeter.  

He is not put in another video. 

And so he finds himself here. 

In a meeting room that he’s convinced is barricaded from the outside so he can’t slither out the door again. Another intern with pink-tinted glasses that took up half their face.

Maya’s in the midst of explaining to him that sure, his numbers had gone up by a decimal, but that was because people had started editing him into the backgrounds of other pictures for other users to find in a perplexing take on Where’s Waldo.

“Videos seem to be working,” she ties it together. “But we need more than you just standing silently behind Captain Rogers.”

“But it’s working,” Bucky objects. “I don’t see why it has to change.”

Maya sends him a glare. Bucky decides then it’s good to shut up. 

“Are you on the internet a significant amount?” the intern asks. The glasses on their face have changed colours to green. Bucky’s eyebrow furrows. 

“No.” 

For the next thirty minutes, he is subjected to a pop quiz about too many words ending with ‘core’, ‘coded’ and ‘eras’. He’s surprised that he knows what cottagecore is. He definitely doesn’t fucking know what a tomatogirl, nor does he want to. 

“What do you like doing?” the intern enunciates, pulling up a spreadsheet of niches that had built a dedicated community around themselves over the years. “Makeup? Cleaning? Parkour?”

Bucky wonders if they’d really create a montage of him just micro cleaning the kitchen every week. It doesn’t sound half bad. 

Beyond that, the only thing he can think of is woodworking, which Sam introduced him to. While he spends time creating little figures, he wouldn’t say it was– 

“You really are dead silent,” the intern breaks his train of thought, tone almost that of wonder. “Guess the whole ‘ghost story for seventy years’ is more true than I thought.”

Bucky throws him a weary look, and works on unclenching the fist that tightened involuntarily. 

“Was that necessary?” Maya’s voice comes coldly. “Take fifteen. Go find the other one we were supposed to meet.”

While sheepish and somewhat apologetic, the kid still looks relieved to be out of there. To be honest, Bucky isn’t really offended– he’s grown a thick skin over the years. But he also thought the guy was a little shit now. 

Maya turns back to him, but Bucky finds that the table contains wonders far more interesting than the conversation at hand.

“Back to what we were talking about.” She ruffles through something on her laptop. “Puppets? History?”

He wordlessly shakes his head. 

Been the former, seen too much of the latter.

Maya’s head tilts abruptly. “You like ghosts?”  

He wonders if the prior conversation had anything to do with this insightful question. 

Bucky shrugs. “Don’t exist.”

“Really,” Maya deadpans. “Aliens and multiversal baboons are fine, but no ghosts.”

“I’ve seen aliens and multiversal baboons. Never seen a ghost in my life,” Bucky argues right back.

“Other people have seen ghosts.”

“Good for other people.”

The door swings open right as Maya’s eyes narrow at him. Guess it wasn’t padlocked. 

“Whatever it is you think I did, Maya, I didn’t. I think,” you announce in a volume too much for a closed room, stopping when you see Bucky sitting cross-armed and looking delightfully disgruntled. “Oh hey, Barnes. Fancy seeing you here.”

Bucky had met you. The newest addition to the team that had made a grand entrance a couple of weeks ago. He thinks you stay on the floor below him, but he has nothing backing this hypothesis other than the disco funk music that had started appearing at odd hours of the night. 

“Please sit,” Maya cracks a smile at you that Bucky had yet to earn. “Sorry, I know our meeting is scheduled for later, but I figured we could kill two birds with one stone.”

You look between her and Bucky, who hasn’t moved an inch since you got here, much less even said hello.

“You must be really bad if Maya had to call me in,” you tell him outright. “I’m usually like, her last option.”

“Thanks,” Bucky replies dryly. 

“Look, here’s my final pitch.” Maya sighs, before turning to you. “You’re new, and we need something to introduce you slowly to the public.”

“Oh, am I finally getting hard launched?” You grin, and Bucky doesn’t know what that means. “Just imagine me kicking my feet, giggling or whatever.” 

“And he needs… an upgrade.” Maya’s thumb juts out towards Bucky who simply rolls his eyes.

“Right.” Your sight lands on him from across the table. “I’ve seen the memes.”

“What memes?” he grunts, because while the team had definitely seen them, it didn't occur to anyone they should show it to him. He loves them. Really. So much. Die for them. 

You only look too happy to pull out your phone and start typing.

“Do you know what skinwalkers are?” 

“No.”

“That’s what they say you look like, lurking in the back of all your friends’ videos,” you continue, swerving around your phone to show him.

Bucky doesn’t look impressed. He can’t say he blames them either, which makes him inexplicably maddens him.  

“At least they’re calling you their boyfriend,” you add, entirely unhelpfully. “That’s gotta count.”

“Right.” Maya clears her throat. “The both of you–” 

“Are getting paired together, I suppose,” you hum. 

Bucky’s eyebrows pull together. 

He barely knows you. Just a little bit on how you ended up here, that you enjoyed hanging out with the team, figuring out your place in the compound, and were seemingly doing a great job at it. 

You were… loud. And open. 

Bucky feels the compulsive need to compensate for that by doubling down on how silent he could get, as if the two of you couldn’t co-exist in the same space in equilibrium. 

Maya pointedly raises a finger at you. “Do you believe in ghosts?”

“For the right price, I will believe in whatever you tell me to.”

Her face lights up brighter than Bucky's ever seen.

“Great.” Maya slams her laptop closed. “See you later.”

Bucky’s left staring as she exits, not even throwing the both of you another look.

“That was quick,” your voice cuts through the silence. “What was that all about?”

 “Don’ ask me,” he grumbles, with a sinking feeling that he knew exactly what was about to follow. 

“Ghost hunting?” Bucky echoes a week later, as expected.

“Yes,” Maya tells him simply. “Two of you. A series based on paranormal activity.”

“I don’t even believe in them,” he reiterates. 

“That’s the point,” she emphasises. “Skeptic and believer. It makes for a good contrast.”

“Why us both?” He hopes it doesn’t come off as offensive. He just doesn’t see why he can’t do this with Sam. Even Clint, if a gun was really pressed to his head. 

“I’m new, no one gives a shit about me,” you say brightly and full of promise. “Yet.”

“Exactly. It’ll be low key. Not an overwhelming number of viewers, no expectations. It’s perfect for launching one Avenger and re-launching another.”

“Sounds rad.” You grin, leaning back as your feet rest on the chair in front of you.

Maya looks relieved for a moment that at least one of you was on board. “No promises on anything. We shoot one video, and if it does well, we stick with it.”

“What if I don’t want to?” Bucky argues. 

“Then you have until tomorrow morning to give us another feasible idea,” Maya dishes back.

Bucky retreats into his seat, arms crossed over his chest. 

Truth be told, he considered himself to be the most boring person in the team and though he had made his peace with that, he was sure thar bringing that up now would entail Maya shooting him in the foot.

“Fine,” he agrees and the sighs around the room are loud. 

He scoffs. So fucking dramatic and for what.

“Put her there, partner.” You stretch ungracefully over the large table, sticking out your hand.

Bucky eyes your hand. “Do you even believe in ghosts?” 

“I do now, yeah.” You nod seriously. “Love ‘em. Can’t get enough of them.”

“One video,” Maya reminds him as a balm. “And if it doesn’t work, you’re off the hook forever.”

Off the hook? Forever? For Bucky?

Yay. 

“One video,” he reiterates.

You roll your eyes before smiling when he leans forward to grab it. You yank it up and down clunkily. He blinks at you, letting go slowly. 

“Thank fuck,” Maya groans, head dropping onto the table. 

Your smile is wild. “Guess we’re doing this shit together.”

He doesn’t even have to look very deep in his soul. He already knows he’s going to suffer.

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing!

to keep up with updates for this fic and others, please follow @shurisneakersupdates and turn on post notifications!

also i'd absolutely love to make this a community led fic like how harmless was! if you have memes or any paranormal ideas or just any prompts in general, please please send them my way <3

Next part

[slutt4ellie]

Summer Blossom

masterslist

PART 2 //

Falling in love is hard. Worse when you know it can’t happen.

Summary -> It’s the summer of ‘73, the absolute last thing you wanted to do is spend summer with your dad all the way in his farm house, which just so happened to be located in the country, far from all your friends. That was until you met her..

Warnings -> Homophobia / Reader denies feelings / Tiny bits of angst (for now) / Avoidant / Reader is 18, Ellie is 19 / Guy hits on reader / Slight bits Jealous!Ellie / Blood! / Description of injuries / Getting outed / (Eventual smut!)

WC: 6.9k

(Not proofread!)

Summer in your dad's farmhouse.

That was easily the last place you wanted to be. 

It’s the summer of ‘73, and your mom had the bright idea of getting some quality time in with your dad.

The reason why is because soon enough you’ll be packing up far away from your hometown and going to collage.

Your parents split up young, 10 to be exact, there were no hard feelings that came along with it, it just happened.

Almost naturally, they simply just grew apart, as some people do. 

You decided to stay with your mom, with all your friends being in that area. Another split you weren’t really willing to lose.

Your dad was always close, 30-45 minutes out to the straight country. 

Nothing but grass and farmland, meaning you didn’t visit a lot. 

On special times like your birthday and holidays, your dad or mom would travel to see each other. 

They named it important to you, but you’ve always convinced yourself it didn’t bother you.

So when your mom suggested you should go up to your dad's for the summer (and wasn’t taking a no) you ended up here.

You didn’t like it to say the least.

It was hot, none of your friends were here, and the last time you’ll ever be freshly graduated at 18 years old you were spending it alone. 

It didn’t help you were also an only child. 

You had no one but your dad. 

So now your in your current predicament. 

You were lying down on your bed. 

Knees pointed up towards the ceiling as you’re slowly drowning in the heat. Which feels like it’s covering each square inch of your room. 

You were reading a book yet weren’t paying attention, the creeks of the floorboards and the birds chirping outside your window had your focus dwell in many different ways. 

A shitty thing that was always on your mind was the fact that you didn’t know if there were people your age, your dad only has one car and it’s strictly named for business purposes. 

It wasn’t until the floorboard creeks were slowly coming up the stairs and the sound of a car pulling in which finally made you drop the book putting it closely beside you. 

There were a few short knocks and your dad's voice came through. 

“Hey, kid?” Your dad mumbles outside your bedroom. 

It was always awkward with him. 

Not because he was a shit dad or anything. On the contrary, he was nice, he always tried his best and was there for you. You guys just didn’t relate much.

He liked hands-on activities, like working on cars, taking care of the many farm animals, and stuff that involved getting dirty.

You enjoyed, staying inside, not getting dirty, sitting in an area with air conditioning, which is the main thing your dad's place fucking lacked.

“Yup?” You sit up rubbing your hand across your sweaty forehead. “Come in” You awkwardly continue. 

Your door opens and your met with your dad. The first thing he says is “You okay?” He asks noticing your tired expression and sweaty face. 

“Yeah.” You sigh slightly exasperated. “Just..” You pause. “Hot.” 

You’re almost confident you’ve never been in a more awkward situation and the fact he’s your own blood, your father for crying out loud? It made it worse. 

He follows by just nodding mumbling a quick agreement. 

He doesn’t talk for what feels like forever. But once his mouth finally opens you know he’ll continue. 

“My buddy is comin’ over?-“ He paused then smiled “He’s here actually!” The smile continues, he’s just hoping you’ll finally get out of your bedroom, at least for a little.

He hated seeing you bored by his mere presence. 

“Daughter around your age is downstairs.” He perks. 

It caught your attention too. Because maybe having someone who might relate to you will ease the straight boredom which is being caused from this house. 

“Oh yeah?” You ask slowly, swinging your legs over your bed before standing up.

“Yup!” He smiles and continues. 

“Been tellin’ them about how you’re coming down for the summer- she seems to be bored out of her mind too.” He chuckles. 

You then sigh, because you kinda feel bad for making it so obvious you were bored. Made you feel like a mean daughter. 

You know not being able to deal with the simple presence of him.

“Dad-“ You try, obviously trying to apologize.

He waved his hand dismissively. “No-! Trust me I get bored round these parts too.” He smiles not trying to cause you guilt. “So hot movin’ around seems like a liability.” He dryly chuckles.

You chuckle too. “You’re telling me..!” 

Once you finish your sentence it’s ended with a nod.

He tilts his head in the bedroom’s door direction suggesting through mannerisms you two should go downstairs.

To which you follow. 

You hear talking. The girl downstairs seems to be hesitant, you can’t really hear what she’s saying, having reminiscences of a mumble. Even so, sounds like a short “I really don’t have to meet her-“. 

But she was quickly cut off when she saw you.

You guys both lock eyes as you're walking down the stairs. 

Just another awkward moment you didn’t need! 

She has green eyes, they seem vibrant while contrasted with the sun that gleams through the window.

Her hair represents a faded red falling more along the lines of brunette, it’s in a shaggy mullet, a bold choice compared to what other people have.

Something you instantly noticed.

Despite the blazing hot sun, which is creating what feels like deathly temperatures, she’s accompanied by a skinny pair of jeans and a t-shirt. 

And in this moment you’ve came to the realization you’ve probably never seen a girl dressed like that before.

It looks like an outfit a male would wear, which throws you for a loop. 

Even though she was mumbling about how she “really didn’t need to meet you” her posture turns straight and a smile presents. 

The man who you can only assume is her father talks. 

“Your old man tells me a lot about you- shame we haven’t properly met yet.” He smiles holding out his hand to shake. 

You awkwardly smile stepping forward to hold out your hand to simply shake back. “I’m Joel- this is my daughter, Ellie.”

His grip peels from yours and he grabs Ellie’s shoulder lightly, making her take a step forward in front of him, she’s now facing directly towards you. 

He feels like it’s to give her a light push to properly introduce herself. Knowing that Ellie wouldn’t take that step on her own.

“Nice to meet you.” Ellie smiles nodding her head awkwardly. 

“Yeah, you too.” You smile back at her. 

It’s awkward, everyone in that room senses it. 

So Joel speaks. 

“Ellie’s got a truck!” Joel perks up, an almost suggestive tone leaking. 

“Was thinkin’ the two of you could head down to town...Your dad was talking about a barbecue” He smiles the last sentence directed towards you.

Ellie’s head turns and she shoots him literal death glares.

Because why in his right mind would he suggest the two of you should go into town. A 10-minute drive after not even knowing each other for 5 minutes. 

What would you even talk about?!

Your dad instantly hops on the idea. Thinking it’s about time for you to step out and find a friend down here.

“Great idea!” He smiles. 

You and Ellie both look at each other, neither of you trying to hide the tired sighs which leaked through your lips..

You both don’t want to really go. 

“Okay..” Ellie nods before turning to the front door. 

“We’ll be back in like 30?” Ellie says.

All you do is follow behind her, she opens the door for you first, before you both are hit with the sun. 

Ellie unlocks her truck hoping in the driver's seat. 

She stretches over the centre console opening the door before you reach it.

All you feel like you can do is mumble a quick thank you. 

And that was the start of the painful car ride. 

It took 4 minutes at least of straight silence for one of you to talk. 

Even though Ellie didn’t want to. She spoke first. 

“So- you like it here so far.” She asks clearing her throat.

“None of my friends are here- so like it’s a bit..boring…” Once you finish your sentence, it’s followed by Ellie nodding to show understanding. 

“Yeah- it’s not bad though. Like once you get used to it.” Ellie smiles tilting her head towards you before turning back.

“You live here?” You ask. You’re somewhat interested..hardly... 

“Yeah- my dad always wanted land..! When I was like 2 we moved, I really don’t remember much before this.” Ellie says looking at the road. 

You just slowly nod. 

“What do you do…? Like all the time.” You ask. 

Ellie’s face does form into a frown. Ellie’s not popular, she’s never been popular. There was a point where she had a good amount of friends.

And that came down in a big crash.

Yet still never popular, not through middle school nor high school, nothing. 

Even though she knows why, she doesn’t plan on telling you. 

“Friends are a big thing!” She lies with a chuckle, hoping it comes across as sounding truthful. 

You buy it, you didn’t even assume it was lying. And plus, say you knew she was lying, you didn’t really care. 

You simply didn’t know Ellie. 

“We close?” You ask Ellie, your tone is dry, and she can easily read you don’t care about what she has to say. 

Ellie nods “Few minutes.” 

And that went in a blur because it wasn’t long till you and Ellie were walking into the grocery store. She leads you to the section that displays all the items you could possibly need for a barbecue. 

Ellie crouches down about to speak before a voice draws both of your attention. 

“Oh, Williams! Didn’t realize you were here?”

Ellie recognizes it immediately. And her face was already red out of pure embarrassment. 

It was ironic, the same guy who made her life shit throughout high school was still sulking in the same area she was. 

Ellie often saw him as the prime example of peaking in high school.

He was horrible to her, constantly. 

Jack McNeill. 

He was a “perfect jock”. 

He caught every girl’s attention, with his blonde hair and blue eyes. Something that drew everyone’s physical attraction. 

She remembers it firsthand when her best friend fell for him. A story she doesn’t feel like even thinking of right now. 

And in all fairness, he needed the looks, his personality was shit, and she knew that more than anyone. 

But still, everyone who knew him loved him, unless you were one of the ‘lucky’ ones who gained his unwanted attention. The one where he’d practically torment you.

“Who’s this?” He smiles with a cocky expression, it’s directed towards you.

Ellie frowns and looks at you.

You guys lock eyes, Ellie’s eyes are silently expressing that she’s sorry. But you can’t tell why.

Nothing that’s been said needed any sort of apology.

“Or…is she for you?” He chuckles. Just by his tone you know it’s lurking with an accusatory tone. Having slight reminiscence of disgust.

You didn’t get what he meant by that comment “Is she for you?”.

It felt like you were being bided on. 

And it hardly made sense! Why would he direct that comment to Ellie, someone who you hardly knew?? 

And who’s a fucking girl? 

“She’s my dad's like- it’s his friend's daughter..” Ellie quickly stands up trying to get out of this conversation as fast as she can, even though it’s hardly working. 

Ellie knows she doesn’t owe Jack an explanation, but he doesn’t ever stop pushing once he starts, something you’d expect from a toddler, not someone who turns 20 in a month.

“Ahh…What’s your name?” He smiles at you, it physically makes you cringe at how his tongue pokes out of his mouth out of pure concentration. 

You look at Ellie and then back at him. 

You know 100% this look and this sentence worked on other people, you see how confident he looks, it’s almost gross.

“We’re in a grocery store?” You chuckle tilting your head.

“Mhm?” He questions. 

Ellie’s looking back and forth between the both of you. Starting to think the charm that Jack seems to have on every fucking girl on the planet will end up working on you.

So she can’t even help but roll her eyes. 

“Thank you, but no thank you.” You nod politely. 

“Wanna go?” You question turning to Ellie. Now realizing she has everything that she actually needs in hand. 

Ellie just nods looking at you then back at Jack, she has a smirk plastered all over her face. She didn’t care if you and Jack went out or something, it just helped to see his face drop.

It’s like it’s the first time he’s ever faced rejection.

Granted it probably is.

It only took till you guys got outside for you to talk. 

“That guy is a dick?” You smile looking at Ellie.

Ellie also smiles, nods lightly, and talks. “Little bit huh?” 

And even though that moment seemed so insignificant from any other viewpoint, it genuinely felt like that’s what sprouted yours and Ellie’s friendship.

And at this point picturing a summer day without her seemed simply impossible.

Because after spending almost a month together, being apart seemed odd.

It had you basically dreading on the fact that summer will eventually end, and you’ll be far from not only your family or friends.

But you’ll be far from Ellie.

She easily fit in the category of a friend. Just you felt like you’ve never connected to someone so fast, meaning calling her one, was something you’ve never fully thought about.

Because Ellie didn’t seem like just a friend?

She seemed different.

Either way it didn’t matter. You always tried to shrug off any thoughts before they could even form.

All she realistically is, is a friend.

Strictly.

I guess you just hated finding yourself constantly overthinking when it comes to Ellie.

The lines of friendship were blurring, and you didn’t like that...

Like when you guys wouldn’t act like just friends, situations where you would share the same bed during sleepover, when you and her would lay on your wood floor (since it was cooler than the air) and her head would be on your shoulder peeking over at the book you were reading.

It was the little things.

You’ve come to the consensus forgetting about it would somehow ease the awkward and unwanted feelings.

I guess it also didn’t help Ellie and Joel practically come over everyday. Which allowed your friendship to grow all that more.

Even though you guys were different, extremely fucking different you felt like you got each other in the more important ways.

Because you told Ellie certain things, and she told you some back.

She was a secretive person, it didn’t bother you much, because you’ve always labeled her as shy, since your first interaction that is.

Even though she was already socially awkward her being shy really just seemed like an add on.

She’s never would expand on how high school was for her, if she had friends, a boyfriend even. She never fucking talked about it.

You’ve never met one of Ellie’s friends, you’ve asked, but she comes up with the same reason. Or in Ellie’s mind an easy excuse to stop the questions from coming any further.

“There out for the summer.” Ellie mumbles following you up the stairs to your bedroom.

Ellie and Joel arrived around 5pm, your dad quickly suggested the idea to have dinner with them.

Of course that went with a shit ton of talking, with a hint of alcohol. Your dad always got chatty when liquor was involved.

Joel also got a few drinks cracked in him, nothing heavy but enough to tell Ellie that they should just crash at your dads place for the night.

In order for them to do some “manly bonding.” Or whatever the fuck they called it?

it ended up making it easier for Ellie, because now that the both of them were staying the night, Ellie didn’t have to carry a stumbling Joel back into their place.

So here you are.

Walking up the stairs with Ellie going on about how you really wanted to meet her friends you read the clock.

It’s only 8pm. The sun is still out due to the earth's tilt..

Which worked in your favour.

Because you had an idea.

After Ellie grumbled her little “There out for the summer.”

All you can reply with is a short sigh.

“Okay what about parties?” You ask looking at her.

“Parties?” Ellie laughs thinking you’re joking.

Both of your legs moving into your bedroom.

“What?” You question turning around to get a good look at her.

Awkwardly it created a close environment for the both of you, practically nose to nose to be exact. To which you backed up as Ellie stayed frozen. Cheeks tinted pink.

You stepped back probably as soon as it happened. You didn’t talk, just looked at her.

Ellie then snaps out of it, trying to forgot that fact she definitely felt your breath on her lips. Ellie was starting to hate herself for even thinking about it.

She knows the both of your are friends. And more importantly you don’t even know about it.

Ellie clears her throat watching as you backed up, quick reminder you definitely didn’t see Ellie like that. Not that it mattered.

“Okay since when do you party?” She ask tilting her head, a quick smile painting right on.

“Whatever?? Tonight- let’s go!” You smile looking at her.

Ellie shakes her head and laughs. “No?? Your dad would kill me? It’s going to get late and- what fucking party.”

“My dad and Joel wouldn’t even notice El? Their drunk. And plus It’s summer! There’s 100% a party happening.”

Ellie sighs.

“Actually?” Ellie questions, she’s praying you’re joking. Because again, she’s not the most popular person around town.

You tilt your head and smile. “Please..!” You sigh out.

“I don’t know..?” She shrugs, and looks at you before continuing. “I just- like what if it’s not fun?” Ellie’s trying to think of any lie that’s realistic. You know other than ‘I don’t feel good’

You look at her shining one last smile hoping it will work.

“Okay- okay fine.” Ellie sighs dramatically, you quickly hug her and pull back.

“Okay let’s get ready!” You suggested.

“No?” Ellie laughs.

“What do you mean ‘no’!” You chuckle grabbing her hand to make her sit down on your bed.

“What if there’s a cute guy you see?” You say suggestively which gets Ellie to cringe back and shake her head. That wasn’t happening..

“I doubt it?” She chuckles looking at you.

A frown is now present on your face. Ellie was so avoidant when it came to the subject of boyfriends. She seemed physically repulsed by them, almost men in general.

And it was getting hard to ignore it now.

You’ve figure she might of had a secret boyfriend, but that was shut down real quick after Ellie denied for a solid 10 minutes after you asked her.

You just didn’t get why she was acting like this.

“No?” You question.

“‘No.” Ellie confirms looking at you. “Trust me I won’t see any guy there that I actually, you know, like.” She shrugs.

“Why?” You ask.

Ellie quickly stands up. Putting on a fake smile. “Let’s go!”

It almost gave you whiplash, I mean it wasn’t new. There’s been countless moments where Ellie just disregarded whatever you said. The first time it happened it ended with you laughing, thinking it was a simple joke.

But she does it a lot. If she doesn’t want to answer, she try’s to act like you didn’t even say it.

Now creating an endless cycle you were genuinely getting tired of.

“Okay.” You follow after Ellie.

You were driving with Ellie. She knew a party nearby. Not that she was invited, she just heard around.

Ellie and you haven’t really spoken since the moment in your room. It’s not like your mad at her, just the secretive act has been getting..annoying.

You told Ellie a lot about you- and it’s like she’s scared to give you anything fucking personal information.

“What..?” Ellie sighs turning over to you before her eyes gaze back on the road ahead.

One hand is on the steering wheel while the others on the centre console.

“I didn’t say anything..?” You shrug looking at Ellie.

Ellie nods awkwardly with a twinge of nervousness. She knows herself she’s being avoidant, and she doesn’t want to lose you because of that.

After Ellie finishes her little nod she talked.

“Are you mad at me?” Ellie ask looking back to you, your gaze is glued to the window purposefully avoiding her.

Ellie hated that.

“No” You just sigh and finally lock with Ellie’s side profile. “You just don’t tell me shit.” You tilt your head.

“I tell you shit.?” Ellie shrugs and smiles trying to ease the tension in the car.

She’s eyeing you once again.

“Get your eyes back on the road.” You groan rolling your eyes, Ellie’s mannerisms were hard not to fold over, which is annoying..

Ellie shifts her eyes to the road.

“What do you wanna know?” She now ask, her teeth are slotted in the bottom of her lip out of nervousness.

Yet her poker face is good enough for you not to get the memo.

“I don’t know- about you?” You say shrugging.

“There’s not much to tell?” Ellie says with a chuckle.

The car stops and she gets out first before opening the door for you. “You’re such a fucking liar?” You chuckle hopping out.

“Im-“ Ellie try’s to defend it, but you shake your head.

“No i’m getting your drunk and i’m hearing all about your little secrets” You joke with a smile.

Yet Ellie definitely wasn’t the one who got drunk.

Because just an hour later you were a slurring, stumbling over your feet trailing back to no other then the kitchen.

There sat the blonde hair blue eyed guy who you turned down a little over 2 weeks ago.

His poster straightens up when he sees you.

“Hey..” He smiles and grabs a red solo cup before handing it to you.

“Hi!” You say excitedly.

He tilts his head and looks around, looking for the other girl who can realistically turn down what’s happening. “Where��s Ellie?”

“Sheees..” You slur looking around, you don’t notice her figure. Which is strange because she definitely stands out.

You quickly turn your attention back to him. “Not sure!” You chuckle.

So does he.

With that he steps forward.

“You’re Jack, yeah?” You ask remembering how Ellie told you on the way back to your dad's place. Leaving the grocery store you two were previously in.

“Mhm?” He smiles moving his hand to your shoulder.

“Do you know my name?” You ask, you notice the way his eyes light up, clearing thinking of something, your eyes on the other hand are glossy from the liquor coursing through your veins..

You’re definitely not thinking straight.

“Why don’t you tell me upstairs?” He suggest. The cocky tone from the grocery store coming right back.

You’re not a hook up type person, you’ve genuinely never been. You can tell by Jacks suggestive tone he’s doesn’t just want to ‘learn your name’. Fuck you’re not stupid.

But..there’s thoughts in your mind about Ellie. Shit you don’t like, stuff you’d never admit. Not even if you were in a life or death situation.

When you’re talking to Jack. They start to falter, go quiet no longer disrupting you.

So you nod. Hesitantly, while a flash of Ellie’s face becomes apparent.

When his uncomfortably big hands loop to your wrist, it’s more forceful than you’d like, yet you agree. You guys are both walking to the stairs, you’re almost falling over due to still being drunk.

“What the fuck?” He groans feeling a sudden grip on his shoulder. His eyes are turning around as yours are too. Once you see green eyes you just sigh. Those previous thoughts coming back.

“What do you want Williams?” He smiles looping his arm around your waist. It ended up closing the little distance you too just previously had.

Ellie doesn’t answer her eyes just go to his arm, the one that is looped around your waist to be exact.

“We're going back.” Ellie says sternly looking back at the two of you.

“Jealous?” He taunts stepping forward.

“Oh fuck off.” Ellie says trying to step closer towards you, something you wouldn’t mind right now. It’s awkward watching this whole interaction on the sidelines. It feels like you’re just spectating.

He steps forward again his arms pushing Ellie back from her chest forcefully?

“Your little friend knows then?” He questions turning back to you. Just by the way he’s speaking down to Ellie. You know it’s not good.

“What?” You say looking back at Ellie. Her face is pale mixed with a bit of red. It’s out of embarrassment, yet you can also tell she’s scared of what he might say.

Jacks laugh fully echos in the house, it’s  obnoxious and loud.

Currently being the only thing you can hear right now.

He then shrugs looking at Ellie.

“Wanna tell her, or should I Williams?” Jack questions licking his lips, it’s taunting.

Ellie doesn’t answer, she can’t answer. Her whole body went numb, because she really can’t experience this feeling once again.

From the silence Jack then shrugs mumbling a “So be it?”

“You know, the fact she’s a little dyk-“

It went in a flash. That whole moment.

The last thing you saw was Ellie’s fist flying straight at Jacks face, Ellie got a good hit in. But his arm was swinging back, quicker and way harder.

And soon enough, despite being the drunk one. You had Ellie’s arm slinging around you while you both walked out.

There was other party attendees rushing out of the door. Some laughing, some even yelling at Ellie. Calling her shit you wouldn’t ever repeat.

Then there was Jack, fuck was he the worst of it. Sure people were saying horrible things to Ellie as she walked out.

But each one of his words made you wince.

You ran an unlocked Ellie’s car before opening the back seat so she has a place to sit down comfortably..

Her nose had to be broken. It was practically spraying with blood and you didn’t know what to do.

Ellie’s hands were shaking and her eyes had a few tears leaving it. Which she attempted to hide from you.

Didn’t work though.

You lightly rub her cheek with your hand trying to wipe them just as fast as they come out.

Soon pulling back wondering if it’s to weird.

“You have something I can stop the bleeding with??” You asked probably just as panicked as her. All she could respond with is a quick nod of her head and a few words.

“T-trunk” Ellie says.

You run to the back of the trunk and look. She has a spare white tank top.

Once you run back you apply light pressure to her nose.

Ellie holds your wrist trying to calm her nerves the fuck down.

“Breath El..” You say trying to get her to calm down.

Ellie’s chest rose slowly and you felt her breath come through the balled up tank top.

Your other hand went to her jaw then neck.

“What was that Ellie?” You say looking at her.

You heard the stuff they were calling her, it would be a ironic and nearly impossible for everyone in that party to randomly come up with the same insult.

Not to mention the shit Jack was saying.

Some talk of an ex best friend was mentioned..You heard all of it..

Ellie fucking knew that too. So all she can reply with is a simple shake of her head.

And this time you understood why she was being so fucking secretive.

Because say you were like her, and in that position. You’d probably avoid it too.

So you’re finally accepting that fact she doesn’t want to talk about it..

Ellie stands up abruptly causing you to flinch back.

She seems colder now. Like she’s masking clear embarrassment with the face of no feelings.

“We can go.” It’s a statement not a question. Ellies whole personality shifted. You watch as she trails back to the trunk throwing the bloody shirt somewhere.

Ellie clears her throat and gets in the car she’s facing only forward, she physically can’t look at you.

What if you knew now.

The one thing she’s been trying her absolute hardest to hide.

And why?

Because Ellie’s a coward.

Probably the biggest fucking one, she can’t go through the feeling of losing another friend simply because she’s..

————

“You’re lesbian..?” Emma says. It sounds like she scared to ask. Worrying about any confirmation that Ellie might ensue.

Emma and Ellie have been friends for longer then both of them could even remember. There was a point where they weren’t friends though. About 4 months. That was until Ellie was born.

So they’ve been together in the little moments like preschool, and middle, finally reaching where they are now, high school. They’ve always been together.

They met through each others parents. Ellie’s dad Joel, and Emma’s father Adam were practically the same men. They liked outdoors, fishing, shit like that.

Ellie swears if she hadn’t known better you could even call them twins.

There was only one difference.

Emma’s family was an extreme stereotypical “Perfect family”.

They had a nice house, christian, perfect looking animals and kids, plus Ellie’s almost confident she hasn’t even heard Emma’s mom swear. Not once.

Yet she just sorta assumed it never passed to Emma?

Ellie’s whole face is red. All she can reply with is a nod. She’s embarrassed, yet not scared.

Because fuck. Emma’s her best friend.

She’s never once considered the fact maybe Emma wouldn’t accept her? Because she simply could not see why.

It’s still Ellie. It just felt like a tiny part of her was hidden.

“D-do you like me?” Emma stands off her bed. Now concerned with the fact Ellie’s in love with her or something. Which just wasn’t true.

Ellie loved Emma, of course. But fucking platonically. She wasn’t alluded with her or something, it almost felt like Emma was joking.

Either way Ellie’s face dropped, because out of all the possibilities she wasn’t fucking excepting this one. A one where maybe Emma didn’t accept her.

“Wh-what n-no!” Ellie’s a stuttering mess now standing up off Emma’s bed. She feels all her nerves turn to jelly. What does she say?

“The fuck Ellie- we’ve- we’ve slept in the same bed before.“ Emma’s tone is loud. It’s like she’s yelling at Ellie now. Like she’s mad.

And Ellie’s never been able to read a face more clear then Emma’s that day.

Pure disgust.

“E-Em?” Ellie try’s stepping forward trying to reach her hand over.

Emma shakes her head and backs up again, she’s acting like Ellie’s infected. Ellie’s searching for any signs of hope. Like it’s some sick joke. Her eyes are just trailing up and down..

“You know I like Jack?” Emma says.

“I kn-“ Ellie starts again, quickly stopped by brown eyed girl.

“Ellie get the fuck out!” Emma yells..

The sound made her wince. Emma never yelled like that, none the less directed towards Ellie.

That night Ellie stumbled out of Emma’s house tears streaming down her face, because she didn’t really have anyone after that. Sure she had some other friends, Joel would be there for her. But fuck..it was Emma.

Someone she simply couldn’t replace, not if she wanted to.

The next day was probably worse.

Ellie woke up to Joel sitting pulled into their kitchen table a little mug rested in the middle of his hands, which was of course full of coffee.

Joel’s never up early, so she already knew she was fucked.

It started off with a short.

“Kid you know I love you. No matter what.” He sighs out.

“Adam called me. He was tellin’ me about some crush on Emma?” He shrugs standing up.

“Is that true?” He questions.

Ellie’s eyes are already glossy, she really didn’t need to be immediately reminded about the disaster which was last night..

“N-no I-I don’t like her?” Ellie puts her head in her hands wiping the tears just as fast as they come.

Joel stands up wrapping her in a bear hug.

“I’m not being buddies with someone who will talk badly about my family.” Joel crouches down reassuring Ellie.

So yes Joel did end up taking it well. Ellie explained everything. What Emma said. Everything.

She just wasn’t prepared for the shit show at school.

Because apparently Emma called Jack McNeill whining about some shitty betrayal. Like she was the one who was hurt.

So not only did Ellie lose Emma, she lost all her remaining friends, her whole school would talk about her like she’s not there, the girls locker rooms would be cleared if she were to ever step foot in them, and she was sorta just alone.

Ellie made a decision right then, she’s not telling people anymore.

————

“El?” You question looking at her. Repeating yourself for the second time.

It looks like she just glitched in real life.

She doesn’t respond but by the fact her eyes didn’t seem so deep in thought you decided to assume she heard you.

“Are we going to talk about it?” You ask once more, silently begging for a response.

The car stops abruptly.

Your eyes are met with the quiet home which belongs to your father.

The lights are off so you know Joel and your dad are sure to be sleeping.

“I’ll see you later.” Ellie says coldly, she’s only looking forward, purposefully avoiding how your eyes won’t peel away from her side profile.

You were scared of how you felt for Ellie, but you were drunk. And right now she seems like she’s going to cry once again. So you pushed that down and talked.

“Ellie it’s late.” You sigh.

She doesn’t respond, she just clears her throat..

Once you shut the passenger door she assumes you’re leaving. But nope..

Ellie watched as you walked over to the driver seat opening the door.

“Come on” You hold out your hand.

Ellie looks at your hand and sighs. “No-“

“Come on…” You pause for a few seconds. “Please.”

Ellie steps out of her truck ignoring how your hand laid open for hers. Ellie decides to stuff both of hers inside her pockets. Creating an easy way of ignoring it.

“You’re the one who punched him Ellie. Don’t know why you’re being bitchy with me.” You say sheepishly.

Because frankly you’re annoyed, she’s acting like it’s your fault.

“Wouldn’t have to..you’re the one decide to practically stumble with him upstairs.” Ellie says harshly. She didn’t mean for it to come out that way. It just..did?

And for that reason you frowned.

You only opened the door for her.

“Go to the washroom.” You say looking at the body which trailed beside you.

“What?” Ellie questions face turning red.

“Your shirt” You confirm. “It’s covered in blood.” You say dryly. You’re clearly mad at her.

Ellie just nods, she’s embarrassed at her own actions, her choice of words also weren’t the brightest..?

Once she gets into your bathroom which is right beside your bedroom she just sits on the sink for a few seconds.

It doesn’t take long before she heard your light knock. A signal you’re outside waiting.

“Yeah come in.” Ellie sighs. Rubbing one hand down her face avoiding the throbbing nose.

You hand her a t-shirt and a pair of pyjama shorts.

Ellie looks down at them then back at you. “I’m sorry..” She says shortly continuing. “For the fight- ignoring you. Then what I said after.” She says.

“Thank you.” You say awkwardly.

It hasn’t been this awkward since the day the both of you first met each other.

This is because Ellie knows a certain questions on your mind.

You know it too. It’s looming. And even though you wanna ask it, you don’t.

Your voice comes out quiet. “I’ll wait in my bedroom.” You clear your throat. “For you” You nod.

Ellie nods too and smiles. “Okay” She mumbles out.

You laid flat on your bed until you heard the door opening. Ellie walked in your bedroom, throwing her previous clothes somewhere on the floor.

She didn’t say much. She just got beside you in bed, something which was overall normal when she’d stay the night.

Just this time it was quiet and cold, despite the hot weather.

You guys both tumbled during that night, you still felt tipsy, and your head felt like it was spinning. Something which wasn’t going away.

The fact Ellie was moving around meant she was definitely fading between consciousness and a deep sleep.

So since you both were in that tired state, it hardly registered when she turned sideways having her arm draped over you, falling right on your waist.

And that was the first issue.

Because did you pull back.

Nope!..

You fucking pushed yourself back into Ellie, finally feeling her lips shadow your neck.

Her breath was warm, extremely steady and she was fading into that deep sleep she lacked a few minutes ago.

Because now once she was holding onto you, it felt like she was on cloud nine.

And for her it didn’t even feel like it went to her brain, if you told Ellie that moment was all a dream she 100% would have believed it.

You moved your body around now so your faces where positioned in front of each other. You looped one arm around her waist and the other behind her neck, head positioned right on her chest.

Your lips hit her collar bone, and it wasn’t like you kissed that area or anything.

You just let them sit there.

“You okay..?” Ellie sleepily mumbles.

“Mhm..” You say.

Waking up in the country was odd.

Because it wasn’t peaceful, nope. There was a rooster which worked as a free alarm clock. Always starting around 8am, so really extremely bright and early.

You woke up with the feeling of a hand on your back, and your head is sat on another body. The hand on you was poking between the sliver of skin between your shirt and shorts.

There was a thumb dragging back and forth and your hips.

Yet you soon realized that hand that belonged to Ellie.

Your whole face turned red.

And you’re now in auto pilot, because you’re jumping out of your bed like there was a million ants that laid there.

But no, only Ellie..

Her eyes opened slowly, the pain in her nose now becoming more prominent then ever..

But she didn’t care, not right now at least.

Because last night wasn’t a dream? Nope.

You guys slept in the same bed. Hugged, cuddled, and at one point your lips were on her skin..

And both of you are now dealing with the consequences the next morning.

Ellies eyes can’t scan your face, she doesn’t know what the fuck you’re trying to relay but it’s not processing for her. And maybe because you yourself don’t even know what to feel.

You were in a moment of shock. Not knowing what to say. Or even what to fucking do.

So you do the only think you can think of.

“Ellie you should leave!” You spit out. It was a panicked statement. Yet it just came out harsh and rude. Now leaving Ellie to feel like the idiot.

“What..?” Ellie questions, she’s fucking shell shocked herself.

She didn’t know what to except, just wasn’t this.

“You need to leave!” You spit again. “Now!”

Ellie stands up collecting her clothes off the floor. Even though the scene which is playing out almost seems like a hookup. It was so fucking far from that.

Because instead of it being a hookup you’re going insane over one stupid night, which on the contrary could mean absolutely nothing.

But you know that you felt something, that makes everything worse.

Ellie’s puts on her shoes before looking at you.

“You’re ridiculous you know?” She says looking straight at you before turning to leave your room.

You only follow her out though, convincing yourself it’s only because you need to make sure she’s really leaving. Which doesn’t make a whole lot of sense.

“What.?” You say following her down the stairs.

“Don’t fucking act all innocent.” She says looking at you.

“I asked you last night- I asked if you we’re okay!” She yells, she sorta wants it to come out as harsh. Yet it just comes out tired, weak like.

“I was drunk?! For fuck sake Ellie!” You yell back at her. It was a pity accuse for sure. It was just easier that way. You wanted to make her feel stupid.

Yet you felt stupid, because you we’re currently denying what you felt for Ellie, and you were doing that by hurting her.

“The people at the party were right. Jack- all of them.” You couldn’t even process what you were saying, it just came out. In another moment of panic? So your face frowns, really fucking fast.

You immediately remember thinking last night how you would ‘never repeat the shit they said to her.’

And you didn’t, but you almost said worse.

Causing you to switch up fast shaking your head.

You start fast. “Ellie I didn’t mea-“

Ellie shakes her head opening the front door. “Fuck you.”

You knew you fucked up.

Joel’s still here and you’d have to think of some lie as to why Ellie went home early.

And to be fair that’s the last thing you cared about, because you single handily said the worst possible thing in that moment.

And because of it.

You’ve lost Ellie.

A/N -> new series 😋😋

I’m switching up my style a bit and going back to the past, I wasn’t fucking born in the 70s so don’t come for me if something is not historically accurate?

I genuinely remember searching up “skinny jeans 70s” tryna see if it was accurate, and spoiler alert (mfs where not wearing that! 🗣️) Like they sorta were but not rlly.

But idc!

As i’m writing this I haven’t even started fated hearts start with fire soo yeah! But maybe if ur lucky it’ll be posted by the time this comes out.

That’s all, hope you enjoyed reading and lmk if you wanna be on the taglist!

(Likes and reblogs are always appreciated)

[loving-barnes]

LOGAN HOWLETT - WINDOW OF OPPORTUNITY

A/N: Here comes chapter FOUR! Oh wow. It's easier when I do this for fun. I don't feel that much pressure to write and put it out regularly. I think the pace of releasing new chapters will slow down soon, but I hope to finish this at least the way I want to.

Pairing: Logan Howlett x mutant female reader

Warning: violence, blood

Summary: In Salem, Logan and Y/N have the opportunity to save the boy.

Please, do not read if you are under 18. This story is suitable for mature audience.

Words: 5200+

Important note: Again, Logan is a tall MF, because they fucked up in the movies. Also, Hugh Jackman!Wolverine.

A TOUCH OF HOPE MASTERLIST | Chapter Three

LOGAN HOWLETT - WINDOW OF OPPORTUNITY

The sky turned dark blue, and the moon showed high up. Y/N’s eyes were locked on it, watching as it illuminated the whole world. She found nights to be her favourite - calm, peaceful. Everyone’s soul would rest as their heads would travel into the dreamland. Then again, sleeping was difficult and unpleasant when nightmares entered uninvited.

“What happened today?” Logan brought her back to reality with the question. “Why the tears?” 

She exhaled, annoyed by that question. “I talked with the Professor,” she said, not looking at him. “He told me about slipping from Cerebro. And I know you know.” 

His eyes never left the road. “I know. We all do. He didn’t tell us why it kept happening.” 

Y/N turned her head to him and observed his focused face. His hands were resting on the steering wheel. “He discovered the reason.” Logan looked at her for a brief moment. “It has to do with my mutation. In his words, it is all about protection. Somehow, it shields my brain from telepaths or any mind infiltration.” 

“I thought he read your mind,” he was confused. 

“He did,” she nodded. “Until he couldn’t again. My mind decides for itself, it seems. One moment, you can come in and have a peak, and then, the doors close, and you are left standing outside in the cold.” 

“You’ll figure it out.” 

“I already figured out other things. I am dumb and naive,” Y/N scoffed. “That realisation hurt like a bitch.” 

His eyes were back on her. “Hey, what’s that supposed to mean? You are not any of those things.” 

She had to laugh. “Oh, if you only knew how many stupid things I did in the past. You’d then know that I am right.” 

“We all make stupid things,” he commented. “I have my own fair share of them.” 

Y/N shifted in her seat and turned her body to see him better. “Ah, will I learn something new about you?” she narrowed her eyes. 

“Only if you tell me more about your stupidity,” he grimaced at her. 

The smile disappeared from her face, and she lowered her eyes. The gear lever became more fascinating than anything else around. “My ex-boyfriend sold me to the lab,” she said timidly. 

“What?” his foot pressed on the break, the car coming to a halt. There was a stop sign that he almost didn’t see. “What the fuck?” He turned left on another road and continued driving to Salem. 

“I was barely nineteen when he found me and gave me a roof and food. He, Mars, was the leader of the group - Void.” She wasn’t ready to tell the story out loud. The fear of him judging her would be unbearable. Charles was sympathetic. Not a hit of judgement came out of his voice. Maybe Logan would be the same? “I’ve spent there almost four years before it went to shit.”

“Void? It sounds like Magneto’s ‘Brotherhood’,” Logan stated. 

“The Void consisted of mutants and humans. It was basically a criminal group. We would steal money, cars and do all sorts of shit,” she shook her head. “I am not proud of that part of  my life.” 

“What happened?” he was curious. 

Y/N huffed and closed her eyes. “Mars, such a weird name, could hypnotise people, manipulate them as he liked. He was a mutant. I didn’t know about it. Many of us didn’t. He used it to his advantage. He would force people to do things for him, even torture innocent people.

“At this point, I cannot be sure what was my own doing and what was his. All I know is he had me in the palms of his hands. It took some sweet nothings and a little attention, and this bitch,” she pointed at herself,  “fell for him.”

“So, you were in love,” Logan said after a while. 

“I think, I don’t know. Let’s say I was, but it was one-sided. Mars used me, used my power to protect him. He gave me some attention and fell for it.” She bit her lower lip, nervousness spreading over her body. “During that time with him, I did unspeakable things.” 

Logan noticed it was difficult to talk about that part. She twiddled her thumbs. “Why did he sell you to the lab?”

Y/N scratched her nape. “When I found out that he was a mutant and what was his ability - yes, it took me four years - I wanted to run away and never look back. Of course, being the stupidly brave woman I am, I went to confront him. Mars was one step ahead of me.

“The last thing I remember was hands holding me tight, pulling me away from him. They got me off guard and injected me with a drug. When I gained consciousness, I was locked in a cell. And thus started my five-year life as a lab rat, moved at least seven times around the country.” 

“Damn,” said Logan. 

“Dumb, blind, naive - that’s all I can say about myself. Lessons were learned. I thought about killing him, you know? A person like him doesn’t deserve to live. Who knows how many girls he had used since he sold me?” 

“If you had the chance, would you?” Logan asked, curious to know the answer to that. 

It took her a minute to admit it. “Yes. I would.” She reached into the pocket of her jeans and took out a black hair elastic. Her hands worked fast, and she brushed her hair into a bun. Some strands framed her face.  When her eyes found Logan staring at her, she gave him a faint smile. “You must think I’m crazy.”

“Not at all,” he admitted. “I’d do the same thing. Hell, I did it in the past. I killed people who used me and betrayed me. The list of people whose life I ended is long. I promised myself I’d never kill again. I quickly realised that’s not how it works in this world.” 

“You’d do anything to survive,” she added after that. “I did. You know the saying - I’d kill for love. And I did. Uh, maybe. I don’t know. Whether I did or didn’t, it doesn’t matter. There is blood on my hands. I have to live with that.” 

A gas station came into their view. Logan turned the car and parked on a free spot next to the building. “I’ll fill the tank, and then we can continue.” 

Y/N unfastened the seatbelt and stepped outside. She stretched her limbs. She went inside the building and bought two water bottles and a chocolate. As she was walking out, her eyes captured Logan filling the tank. Her eyes travelled over his body, admiring how well-built he was. Out of nowhere, her lips slightly curved up. There was a warm feeling in her lower stomach and even excitement. Where did that come from? 

He noticed. Logan saw her standing behind the glass door, holding the bottles and smiling at him. He flared his nostrils and moved his eyes away. Logan moved inside to pay for the gas just as Y/N walked out to the car. 

She put the bottles and chocolate on the roof. The smell of gasoline lingered around the place. One cigarette or a match, and the station would explode. Where was her mind going with this? 

“Hey there, pretty girl.” Two unknown men approached her. They were tall, one was bold, and the other had short dark hair. “Wanna hang out?” 

She hated this. Why did men need to talk to women when they were not interested? She glared at them. “No, thanks.” 

“Oh, come on, sweets.” 

She squinted at them. “I think you have trouble accepting when someone says no.” 

“Mouthy,” one laughed. “I like that.” 

“I suggest you leave me alone before-”

“Before what, sugar?”

Logan walked out, and his eyes fell on Y/N and two douchebags talking to her. “What the fuck?” he mumbled and walked straight to her. Instinctively, he stood behind her, giving the men death glares. “Can I help ya, fellas?” 

Y/N could feel Logan’s body heat radiating. He stood close to her, his front almost touching her back. She smirked, loving how the men’s faces paled. They stepped back. 

“I thought so,” Logan’s hand rubbed Y/N’s right shoulder and then walked around the car. 

Y/N winked at the men and stepped inside the car, smiling. She looked at Logan, who already had a cigar in his mouth, lighting it up. “Thanks.” 

“Eh, don’t mention it,” he said. 

They had another hour and a half before they reached Salem. Either they were silent, or they talked about random things. Y/N could still feel Logan’s touch on her shoulder, lingering there gently. 

“Will you tell me something about you?” she asked an hour later. “I told you about my stupidity. I’d like to know more about you. That is if you are willing to share.” He smiled and rolled his eyes. “You’ve said you killed a lot of people. Can you tell me more?” 

She noticed how he flinged. She must have hit a tough spot. Y/N wanted to apologise. Logan decided to tell her more. “I’ve seen wars, fought in them even.”

“Wars?”

“First World War, Second World War,” he answered. 

Y/N’s mouth almost fell to her lap. “Wait, what do you mean?” 

“I was born in 1832,” he announced. Watching Y/N’s face change a few times was amusing. 

“No shit,” she didn’t believe him. “You cannot be over 170 years old. You look not older than 35.” 

“I ain’t lying, bub,” he grinned at her. 

Y/N’s mouth kept moving. No words came out. Many thoughts were running through her mind. Her whole body turned to him. “Okay, it makes sense when I know about your regenerative healing factor. I didn’t think it would make you immortal.” 

“I wouldn’t say I am immortal,” he took a drag from the cigar. The air filled with its heavy smell. “I once was a boy who grew up, and then, the ageing slowed down until it stopped, or I think.” When he looked at her, Y/N’s mouth kept hanging open. He put two fingers under her chin and helped her close her mouth. “Careful, or something will fly in there.” 

Their eyes met. Logan’s fingers rested under her chin longer than necessary. When he pulled away, she wanted to scream to put them back there. 

“So, both wars,” she tried to resume the topic. 

He wrinkled his nose. “Civil war, Korean war.” 

“Holy shit.” 

“Here’s the thing -  I don’t remember much. At some point, before I even came to the school, I lost my memory. Charles helped me restore some. There are big chunks of my past I still don’t know. I have concluded that it’s for the better.” 

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable,” she said. 

“No, it’s fine,” he waved a hand. “If you can share bits and pieces, so can I.” 

When they arrived in Salem, it was after midnight. Logan decided to park the car farther away from the lab. It wouldn’t be wise to drive all the way there. Once they left the vehicle, they walked through a calm residential district. The lab was around a ten-minute walk from there. 

The air got colder, and the moon got lost behind the clouds. The wind rose. There were signs it was about to rain. 

“We’ll keep it simple, Y/N,” Logan started to talk, explaining the plan. “We will look around the perimeter and map the surroundings. We count the guards and the security cameras and then leave.” 

“What if-”

“No,” he stopped her. “I will not let you risk your life without a back-up. Last time, the place was packed with armed men. I don’t think that changed since then.” 

There was no point in arguing. “Fine.” 

When they approached the facility, the place looked almost similar when she left it. There was a part of the building demolished. It used to be her escape window. One of the locked mutants wrecked that side with their ability. And yet, it brought her a lot of unpleasant memories. Her stomach turned upside down. 

Together, they moved around the demolished side until they were met with an entrance gate. “What the shit?” Logan mumbled. At the gate were only two men with guns. “Last time, there were twenty of them,” he stated. “The roofs were covered with them. Now nothing.” 

Shouting came out of the demesne. Then, there was the sound of an engine. Logan grabbed Y/N’s hand and pulled her to him, making them hide behind a thick tree. He kept her close while they watched a military truck exit the facility. 

“The boy is not here,” Logan stated. “This place is not what it used to be a few weeks back. It’s strange. We got satellite pictures a few days ago, and this was still a highly secured facility.”

When the truck was gone, they moved forward. The wall that surrounded the building was destroyed in many places. They would be able to get with ease. Y/N’s eyes travelled around the building. She knew a way in. She could still remember the interior. 

“We should go. The boy is not here,” Logan ordered, reaching for her arm. 

“No, wait,” Y/N stopped him. “I think this is the perfect opportunity to go inside. So far, there are not many guards. The lab, where they kept us, is underground. At least, that was a month ago. We have the perfect opportunity to look around.” 

He gritted his teeth. “I told you I will not risk your life. It is dangerous.” 

“Then stay here,” she talked back. “I’m here. I need to know. Even if it is only a little bit.” 

Y/N started to run away from him, heading to the fallen wall that was not guarded by the men. Logan cursed under his nose. What was he expecting? That woman was stubborn as hell. Before he lost her, he decided to follow her. His conscience wouldn’t let him let her go alone.

Y/N was careful when she entered the estate and ran to the demolished part of the building. Peeking inside, she saw a destroyed room filled with bricks, wood and damaged furniture. The interior was dark. There was nothing useful for her. Her eyes noticed light coming from the other side. It was a hallway leading further into the compound. 

Her feet automatically took her there. She walked over the bricks and stones until she reached the hallway entrance. If she remembered correctly, it led to a security room. 

A hand gripped her above her elbow and pulled her back. “What the fuck do you think you are doing?” Her eyes found angry Logan standing close to her. 

“There is a security room down the hallway,” she whispered. “We will be able to see more.” 

“I am so pissed right now,” he growled. “We had a deal.” 

“If I see a chance, I will take it,” she spat back, trying to keep her voice low. “Now let me go. Please. I must know more.” 

As much as he hated it, Logan let her go. His claws got out, ready to be used if necessary. Logan walked close behind her, protecting her back. They reached the end of the hallway. 

“Shit,” she cursed. There were dead bodies on the floor, covered in blood. It felt like a slaughter room. The scent of copper hit her nose, and she wrinkled it. She observed the dead bodies and discovered they had many bullet wounds on their bodies. It was all fresh. “We’re not alone.” 

Logan started to sniff the air, sensing something was off. Y/N approached the screens and looked at all the cameras installed around the place. There was another military vehicle outside that they didn’t notice. More men surrounded it. They wore different uniforms than the dead men in the security room.

“They are here for something,” she commented as her eyes drifted from one screen to another. “They are here for JJ,” she gasped when she found a screen with JJ’s cell. 

Logan got to her to see with his own eyes. The eleven-year-old was sitting in the middle of a cage, visibly distressed. He had a white gown on. No other mutants were present. As they watched, they saw men come to him, pointing guns at the innocent child. 

Unexpected. That’s how it could be described. How was it possible that the last time Y/N saw him, they wanted to take him away, and now, he was here? None of this made sense. 

“Shit,” Logan gasped. He pointed at one of the soldiers who was closest to the camera. “They work for Trask. If they take him, he’ll sure be dead by the end of the week.” 

That was the push Y/N needed. Logan didn’t have the chance to react when she ran away from him, heading outside to the other military track. She was sure it was waiting there for JJ. 

Anger filled her veins, her whole body. Last time, she couldn’t help him escape. He got her out. She was too weak to return the favour. This time, Y/N was determined to get him out and destroy anyone who would dare to stop her. The deal she made with Logan was out the window. 

Y/N ran outside but hid behind the closest corner, watching. She waited for the window of opportunity. At least ten men kept guarding the vehicle. The back door was opened. Her heart was beating rapidly. Adrenaline was high. Fear knocked on the back of her head, telling her to run away and never look back. 

She potted JJ coming out of the building with a thick collar around his neck. The boy was almost bald and alarmingly bruised. Two big men guarded him by holding his shoulders from each side. Another three men were walking behind them, guns ready to shoot him in his head. 

What can she do with her protective power? It has some offensive moves, Y/N remembered the Professor’s words. They echoed inside her mind. She thought back to when her ability turned deadly. 

One last breath, and she ran towards the heavily armed men. The moment they discovered her presence, their guns were up, pointing at her. Y/N wrapped her body into a protective shield and rammed the men with it. 

Bullets were pointless. They weren’t able to penetrate the protective veil of blue. Y/N turned on her heel and faced the rest of the men. As much as they tried, no one could get through the forcefield. 

Two men grabbed JJ and moved with him away from the fight while the rest of them did everything in their power to kill Y/N. She kept knocking down the men like a house of cards. And then a roaring shout came from the right side. Logan’s claws penetrated the men’s bodies, slicing through them. Some managed to shoot him. 

“No,” Y/N shouted. For a moment, he forgot he was indestructible. And yet, she worried about him.

The usage of forcefield was draining her energy fast. The more she held it on, the weaker her body became. She ran towards the men who got JJ. “Let him go!” she screamed at them. “He’s a child!” 

They threw the boy on the ground hard, making him cry in pain. That’s when Y/N noticed the colourful bruises around his face, arms and legs. He looked sick and beaten. The gun was now pointed directly at his head. “Make a step, and I will kill him in front of your eyes!” 

Y/N didn’t make a move. Her eyes were fixed on the boy. “Let him go,” she said through gritted teeth. “He’s just a child. An innocent child that hasn’t lived enough.” 

Once Logan killed the last man, he walked closer to Y/N and the men. His adamantium claws were covered in blood, as were his t-shirt and the unbuttoned flannel shirt. When he discovered how the boy was close to being shot, he stopped in his tracks, breathing heavily. 

“Y/N,” JJ whispered her name. Tears gathered in his eyes. “Y-you came for me?” 

It broke her heart to see him like this. “Of course,” her voice shook. Her eyes moved back to the soldiers. “Let-him-go. I won’t ask again.” 

“No,” the soldier said strictly. “If you want the boy to live, you will let us leave with him.” 

The forcefield started to glitch a little. Everyone noticed it. Y/N had to focus harder to keep herself protected. One mistake and she could end dead. 

“What do you want with him?” Logan asked instead.

“That’s none of your business, mutant,” he barked. 

Y/N thought about her next move. Her head turned to bloodied Logan, who was breathing heavily. His body was ready to fight. The veins popped out of his neck and forearms. She sighed. Y/N got them into this mess, and she didn’t know what to do. 

“We need back up to Salem’s lab,” her ears registered one of the men talking to a walkie-talkie. “We have two other mutants on our radar. They are trying to get the boy. 

Her eyes blinked a few times. She didn’t have much time left. Y/N kept breathing through her nose. Deep inhale and long exhale. 

“Y/N,” she heard Logan’s concerned voice. 

Focus on the object you want to wrap in the forcefield and send the energy flying to it. That’s what the Professor told her last week during her training. Picture it. Project the vision onto it. 

Her eyes locked on JJ, who was shivering on the cold ground. With that collar around his neck, he looked like a slave. She could feel his fear. All she wanted was to protect him, keep him safe from this fucked up world. Her right hand stretched forward. In her mind, she pictured the boy wrapped around the veil, protecting his soul and body. 

That’s when she felt the energy leaving her body and covered the boy in a light blue and silver veil. For the first time, she created a forcefield around another person. When it happened, the man shot a bullet at him. It got absorbed into it. 

It was Logan’s cue to bolt out of his place and kill both of those fuckers who dared to hurt Y/N or the boy. Blood splashed around them, covering the grass and Logan. It took him a few slices, and it was over. Every soldier who wanted to kill them was dead. 

“Fuck,” Logan cursed and retracted the claws back under the skin. His eyes moved to the forcefield wrapped around the boy and glitching around her. She created two at the same time.

Y/N’s eyes got heavier. Something warm tickled her upper lip. She broke the energy. The veil disappeared from her and from the boy. She exhaled the last breath she held. Her knees gave up, and she fell to the ground. Her head was spinning. She felt this weak before when she escaped the lab. 

“Y/N,” Logan called her name when he fell to his knees next to her. He ran to her the moment she went down. He lifted her head and noticed her nose bleeding heavily. His big hands brushed her cheeks. He put a strand of hair behind her ear. “Look at me, bub. Come on, look at me.” 

“I’m,” she started to talk but failed. She gulped loudly and took a deep breath. “I’m fine.” 

“You’re bleeding,” he wiped the blood with the sleeve of his flannel shirt. It didn’t help much. “Can you walk? We need to move. More will come. We must leave.” 

She blinked a few times. “Yeah, I guess. Get JJ, and we can go.” 

Logan helped her to her feet and made sure she was stable. He turned to the boy who was kneeling on the ground watching them. “You alright, kid?” he eyed the child, checking if he wasn’t bleeding as well. Fear was evident on his face. “I will not gonna hurt ya,” his voice got softer. 

JJ got up on his feet and ran towards Y/N, throwing himself into her weak embrace. “You came for me,” he cried. 

“I’m sorry it took me so long,” her voice broke, and she kissed his head. “You are safe now, JJ. Logan and I will take you to a safe place.”

As much as he hated to ruin the moment, Logan stepped to them. His ears registered the sound of helicopters in the air. “We need to move. Now.” 

Y/N grabbed the boy’s hand, and they ran away from the facility and into the woods. Logan was two steps behind them, making sure they were moving. His eyes were more fixed on Y/N than on the boy. 

Suddenly, her body bumped into a tree. She had to stop and take a few breaths. Everything was shaking, and her vision got blurry. “Shit,” mumbled. She looked at the boy, then at Logan, frowning. Why were there two of each? 

The woods spun in front of her eyes. It took her a few seconds before she pushed her body off the tree and moved. Her hand never let go of JJ. This time, Logan’s arm found her waist. He kept it there for support. He didn’t want her to fall or hurt herself anymore. He could smell how drained she was. Logan held her until they reached the residential district.

“You good?” he asked her when they slowed down. 

“Just weak,” she replied. “It’s going to be okay. I’ve never held the forcefield for this long.” 

“You projected it around the boy, also. That’s a huge step,” he patted her shoulder. “I’m still pissed at ya,” he added.

“Sorry, not sorry.”

Logan turned around, eyes scanning the woods behind them. His instinct told him to move and leave. He smelled more soldiers searching for them. To their luck, the car was closer than anticipated. He unlocked the car and opened the door for the boy. “Get in,” he ordered. 

Y/N climbed into the passenger’s seat and closed the door with a loud thud. She moaned. The sound was too painful. Once Logan got in, they were on their way away from Salem and back to the school. 

The tension inside the car could be felt until they were far away from the residential district. All of them relaxed when they connected to a main road. 

Y/N reached for her backpack and took out her denim jacket. She took off her hoodie and handed it to JJ. “Put this on so you’re not cold.” 

“Thanks,” he sniffled a little and grabbed the hoodie. He was only wearing a thin white robe covered in dirt. His legs were exposed, and he was bare feet.

Logan saw what she was doing, so he turned on the heat inside the car. Y/N grabbed a bottle she bought at the gas station and handed it to JJ. Then she gave him a piece of the chocolate. “Here, drink and eat some chocolate. It’s all I have now.” 

She watched him from the rear-view mirror, drinking the water and eating the chocolate. Her shoulders relaxed, and she exhaled loudly. As if the stress escaped her body when she saw him alive and well. 

“Everyone’s gonna be pissed,” Logan stated after a while. His eyes were on the road, here and there, checking the boy in the mirror. 

“I don’t care,” Y/N whispered. Her body rested against the car seat, eyes closed. “We didn’t plan on this.”

“Sure,” he scoffed. 

“No, we didn’t,” she opened her eyes and glared at him. “I would have left if it weren’t for the fact that soldiers from Trask came for him. Besides, if I didn’t intervene, we would have lost him forever.” 

“You don’t-”

“You said it yourself,” she snapped. “If they took JJ, he’d be dead by the end of the week. This was our chance. I don’t care that you are upset, disappointed or whatever. It had to be done.” 

Logan hit the steering wheel out of frustration. “Goddamit, Y/N. It was reckless to head inside without thinking. It could have gone to shits if there were more men.” 

“Enough,” she stopped him. “It’s done. We have him. He’s alive, and we made it out of there. End of story.”

Y/n turned her head to the other side. It was a sign that the conversation was over. She noticed a faint reflection of herself in the window. There was dried blood under her nose, lips and chin. She tried to wipe it off with the sleeve of her denim jacket. It didn’t work much. 

“W-who are you?” they heard the boy’s soft voice. He was still afraid. 

“Logan,” he said. 

“Y-you have claws,” JJ stated. “So you are like us, right?” Logan only grunted. “Where are you taking me?” 

Y/N turned around and faced the boy. She put a smile on her face. Her hand reached for his cheek and stroked it. “We are taking you to a safe place for people like us. It’s a school for mutants.”

“School?” his eyes sparkled. “There is a school?”

“Yes,” Y/N nodded. “You will be able to live there and learn. Many children are living their lives there. They helped me, too. Logan saved me when I escaped the lab.” Her eyes filled with tears. She tried to hold the cry but couldn’t. “I’m sorry I left you there. I’m so sorry, JJ.”

His smaller hand reached for her hand on his cheek. “It’s okay. You came back.” 

“No, no, it’s not,” she cried. “You got us out. I will be forever thankful for that. It upsets me that I couldn’t do the same for you that day. It took me a month.” 

Logan felt the pain in Y/N’s voice. He bit his lower lip, trying to hold himself back and not reach for her. The anger he felt was gone. Logan wanted to put her into his arms and protect her whole being from the world. When he saw the tears running down her face, he sighed. His right hand reached for her face, and his thumb wiped off the tears under her left eye. 

Her eyes met his. The touch was gentle, filled with something unspoken, new. “He’s fine. We got him out.” 

All she managed to do was to nod. 

“How long until we are there?” Jerome asked. 

“Four hours,” Logan answered when his hand left Y/N’s cheek and turned his attention back to the road. “Rest, kid. We have a long way ahead.” 

He wrapped his arms around his body, trying to warm himself faster. Y/N’s hoodie helped. He even put the hood over his head. It yanked the collar around his neck. “What about this thing?” 

Y/N observed the device. There was a small green light. It meant it was on. “We’ll figure it out once we are at school. They will get it off you.” 

“What does it do again?” Logan asked. 

“It suppresses our mutation. JJ cannot use his power while the collar is on,” Y/N explained. 

“I can use the claws to slice through it,” he suggested. 

Jerome’s eyes widened, and he gasped. “No,” Y/N said, shaking her head. “It’s dangerous. We don’t know what would happen if you’d try to destroy it like that.” 

“Okay. We’ll let Hank and Jean have a look at it. They will figure something out.” 

[bibuckaroo]

i need to talk about this because this is very important to me:

yes, khun is down bad for bam and we KNOW that, but we need to start appreciating the fact that bam is down bad for him too and he’s just as embarrassing about it, like, this is not one sided, guys. the only difference is that bam always has a lot of shit going on, while khun always only deals with bam related problems.

but examples of bam being down bad:

• always singles khun out in a group, he’s the first person he sees and unless someone else interacts with him, he continues to only focus on khun, to the point that endorsi herself talks about this more than once, because she’s jealous that bam isn’t paying attention to her.

• while bam doesn’t like seeing any of his friends hurt, he usually doesn’t stop them from joining fights if they insist on it, he’ll just do his best to protect them. but here’s the thing: if he can help it, he doesn’t even let khun join a fight in a physical way and when khun looks like he’s going to leave his post in his lighthouse, bam explicitly tells him not to do that because it’s too dangerous, because to him khun belongs in the safety of his lighthouses, strategizing and protecting their friends.

• at the end of the day, the person bam is going to open to will always be khun. this is explicitly made aware when he bids both endorsi and yuri good night (two people who are his close friends and he’s known for years, and could’ve open up to at anytime) because they said they were going to rest, but when khun tried to do the same, he stopped him and asked if he could speak to him about the master key. very important!!! bam also wants to be the person khun opens up to, but every time he manages to ask him something personal, they get interrupted (looking at you, endorsi).

• bam actually stated it himself that khun ‘is his most precious friend’ when talking about why he was protecting ran, in terms of him being khun’s brother. enough said about it, khun is already on a whole other level to anybody else, and how insane it is that he’s willing to lay down his life for ran because he knows it would upset khun if anything happened to him?

• RACHEL HERSELF POINTED OUT THAT KHUN IS BAM’S PRIORITY!!! when she asked bam why he was giving her a fair chance in terms of getting the thorn fragment, literally her first assumption was because she had saved khun’s life.

• i also feel that is important to point out that while bam may not want khun in the direct line of danger, there is no one he trusts more than khun, because he knows that at the end of the day he can take care of himself, he just wishes he wasn’t put into a position where he had to. like in the sweetfish situation, he had a choice of where to go and he chose to go to hoaquin because he knew khun was with the sweetfish and he trusted khun to have a plan, even though he was worried.

• lastly, i need to mention this because i have never seen nobody talk about that: bam tries to hold on to the image of himself from the test floor in his interactions with khun a lot. after his time as jue viole grace, every time we see him interacting with other characters we see him serious and determined but rarely smiling, even with his old friends, but with khun i noticed a lot of instances that he does the closed eyed smile to reassure that everything was fine and while a part of me wants to believe that the only reason this happens is because khun just brings out this side of him, i also believe that is because (at least in a subconscious level) he believes that is the version of himself khun grew to care for (since we know bam segregates his personality, since his sworn enemy is the version of himself that is jue viole grace) and if he’s not that version anymore, will khun still care for him? (welp, this just got really angsty).

to end all of this: basically, i feel like we talk a lot about khun and his obsession with bam (affectionate) but we don’t talk enough about bam’s with him because his moments are always more subtle and usually get lost in everything else that’s happening on bam’s life.

and i noticed that we, in the khunbam fandom, tend to be able to read khun better (he truly is easier to read) than bam, but now this post makes me want to do a character study on bam.

[theonceandfuturequeenoftarts]

It happens by chance, and while Harry wishes it hadn’t, this will at least clear up any lingering uncertainty for him.

There’s a skirmish between Harry and some friends from the Order and Voldemort and his Death Eaters, and a couple stray curses happen to catch him – one slices shallowly into his upper arm, the other sends him rolling across the ground. The upshot of this is that the left shoulder of Harry’s shirt is now in ribbons and hanging down around his waist, leaving his chest – and soul mark – bare to the world. Including Voldemort.

Who looks like he’s having one doozy of an emotion.

And that basically confirms the dark wizard hadn’t known, but right now Harry’s bleeding sluggishly and wants to go home and have a drink and pass out for at least a few hours, so Voldemort can rage on his own time. Everyone else from his side has already buggered off, so he’s not abandoning anyone if he does the same.

Unfortunately, the blood loss – while not severe – is enough to slow his reaction time, which leads to him apparating himself and the Dark Lord latched onto him to his flat. Not ideal.

There are a tense few moments of staring at the snake man, waiting to see if he’ll attack or start destroying Harry’s home, but when he doesn’t take advantage – when he just stares and frowns and stares some more – Harry decides he’s too tired for this shit.

“You are just impossible to ward out, aren’t you?” he sighs. The curse of being so physically and magically intertwined with the other man. (Well. And at the soul level, too, but he tries not to think of that.)

Voldemort yanks him by his uninjured arm towards the kitchen light that comes on automatically and stares at Harry’s chest, and the elegantly written Tom Marvolo Riddle thereupon.

Harry scowls when the staring drags on. “Oi, could you quit perving on me and piss off already?”

“You were never going to tell me?” Voldemort demands, ignoring Harry’s half-arsed attempt at distraction.

“Of course not,” he scoffs. “Why the Hel would I? Either you already knew and it didn’t matter to you, or you didn’t – and I wasn’t about to risk baring my soul to someone who has a history of wanting me dead.” He shrugs. “I’m reckless, not suicidal.”

Voldemort opens his mouth with an angrily indignant look, and Harry looks to the ceiling for patience before pulling out of the other man’s grip and opening his emergency bottle of firewhiskey, hidden in the pantry, because this conversation needs alcohol. He pours two glasses (his to the brim) because he tries to be a good host, even to the bane of his existence. And if Voldemort doesn’t want it, well, it’ll save Harry getting the bottle out again.

All throughout this, Voldemort is ranting at him. Harry tunes most of it out – he’s had to hear enough of the man’s monologues to know he doesn’t need to listen to the preamble; the meat of his diatribe won’t come until a couple minutes in, at least.

After he casts a quick episkey on the cut on his arm, Harry leans against the counter, watching Voldemort pace around his modest kitchen. He takes a long, slow drink, welcoming the fire flowing down his throat and warming his belly. And either the other man is taking even longer than usual to get to the point or Harry’s more exhausted and irritable than he’d thought, because he’s suddenly completely out of patience with this situation.

He cuts in boredly, “It’s not like it changes anything. It doesn’t matter.”

Voldemort is immediately before him, looming and enraged. “It matters to me!”

“Why?”

“I’ve waited decades for you,” he says vehemently, leaning closer in an attempt to physically intimidate or pin Harry in place.

Harry barks a harsh laugh. “You waited for a fantasy. You’ve spent my whole life killing and hurting the people most important to me. Some silly mark doesn’t change that – it doesn’t make it better, it won’t make me love you.” He takes a sip and rasps through the burn. “It won’t change who you are.”

“I never received a mark–”

“And that’s unfortunate. Clearly it affected you. But plenty of people don’t get soul marks and they don’t commit mass murder and incite civil wars.” He gives Voldemort a dismissive look, standing up straight and slipping out from between the dark wizard and the counter. He can almost hear the other man grinding his teeth. 

“You have no idea what it’s like, not having a mark,” Voldemort hisses caustically, face contorted in a furious snarl. “The contempt, the ridicule I had to endure. I was denied one of Magic's basic gifts and they took it as proof they were better than me, those worthless fools.”

It’s difficult to know how he would’ve reacted to not having a mark. His burden has been to have the mark of the worst possible person, and he thinks he’s handled it far better than anyone could’ve expected of him. Having no mark would’ve confirmed that he’s meant to be alone, that there’s no one out there meant just for him, but having Voldemort’s mark as Harry Potter essentially means the same thing.

“Maybe you mutilated your soul too much to deserve a mark,” Harry says in a fit of cruelty. Behind the wrath crackling in the other man’s eyes, he can see the misery bloom. As good as it feels to score a hit against Voldemort, he regrets it even more. And isn’t that the exact reason why this damn war has dragged on for so long?

(Harry pushes that thought away wearily.)

“You had choices, Voldemort, and you made yours,” he says quietly but firmly. “I’m making mine, and it’s that I don’t want anything to do with you.”

“This is not a unilateral decision,” Voldemort says, the frustration in his tone edging close to desperation. “Do my wants mean nothing?”

"Your wants." Harry slams his almost empty glass down on the table; his voice comes out dangerously even. “Alright then. Can you bring my parents back to life? No? How about Cedric, or Sirius, or any of the dozens of others whose lives you’ve cut short?”

Voldemort’s mouth is pinched shut, a thunderous frown on his face.

“Hel, let’s start small. Stop this war, swear to never harm another person and get your followers to do the same. You want me to care about what you want? Start by addressing all of that.”

“You ask this of me and promise nothing in return?” Voldemort says bitterly.

“That’s the bare minimum it would take for me to see you as anything more than a murderous, blood-supremacist monster. And I honestly don’t think you can do it, but feel free to prove me wrong.”

That puts an unsettling gleam in the other man’s eyes. Harry thinks back on what he might’ve said to cause that reaction and feels his stomach drop. Oh bother. He’d challenged Voldemort. Harry knows exactly how he'd react to someone saying that; apparently Voldemort is equally competitive (and motivated by spite – he should’ve guessed that).

“...If I am able to–”

“You won’t–”

“When I fulfill your requirements,” Voldemort arrogantly says, face intense. “You and I will explore our connection, and you will meet with me frequently to do so.”

And now Harry is in a quandary. If Voldemort does what he’s been asked, Harry will have achieved what he’s been fighting for all six years of his adult life; if Voldemort doesn’t, Harry’s no worse off than he was before. And he knows the dark wizard won’t give up his cause simply because his soulmate asked, but if Voldemort does…

“You do realise that your soulmate is me, yeah?” Harry clarifies, unnerved by the shift in the other man's demeanour. “You don’t like me. At all.”

“Nonsense,” Voldemort says, waving off Harry’s really very logical point. “We simply haven’t had a chance to become properly acquainted.”

“...Because you’re always trying to kill me.”

“Details, details.” 

Harry would very much like to strangle the megalomaniac who is still in his apartment. “...Uh-huh. Sure, you become a completely different person and we’ll talk.”

He sometimes forgets that magic occasionally disregards sarcasm. This appears to be one of those times, as the heaviness in the air snaps tight around them, signifying Harry’s flippant “sure” just turned this discussion into a magically binding agreement. Merlin’s pierced nipples. So much for intent over phrasing.

Catching sight of Voldemort’s smug smirk, Harry suddenly feels genuinely homicidal for the first time in his life. Sensing his non-existent welcome is well and truly worn out, Voldemort says, “I look forward to it,” and apparates away. Harry pitches a cushion through the space the dark wizard just occupied. It helps settle his irritation a little.

He drops onto his couch with a deep, bone-tired sigh and tosses back Voldemort’s untouched glass of firewhiskey. 

He wonders if he’ll feel disappointed or relieved when Voldemort realises he’d rather keep trying to subjugate Magical Britain than have Harry as his soulmate.

Three days later, the war ends.

[spacedace]

The one where Elle keeps having to deal with her boyfriends’ family members breaking into her home Part 1 (Jon/Damian/Elle secret dating nonsense):

-

Dick finds out about Damian’s girlfriend at the same time he meets her for the first time.

Normally something as momentous as discovering that his babiest brother had a dating life would have been cause for excitement and joy. Damian had grown a lot from those early years, but Dick still worried about him. Since moving out and into his own apartment he seemed more likely than ever to avoid people, even - maybe especially - the family. He still came over to the manor regularly, but it was rare than at anyone outside of Alfred even saw him outside of patrol or working on cases. He showed up, spent time with Batcow and Alfred-the-Cat and Ace, then left before anyone saw him.

So finding out that Damian had a girlfriend - let alone one he was serious enough about that they lived together - should have been the highlight of the week, maybe even the month!

Unfortunately for him, however, the excitement of it all was rather dimmed by the concussion of said girlfriend hitting him over the head with a baseball bat with the force of a freight train after assuming he was a stranger breaking into her home.

In hindsight secret live in girlfriend may have been the reason Damian had been so squirrelly about any of them coming over to his place.

Secret Live In Girlfriend - name pending - was currently dialing someone on the phone, most likely the police. Which meant that Babs’ system was going to flag a B&E at Damian’s apartment mere minutes after he’d told her he was crashing at Baby Bird’s apartment. Which meant that Secret Live In Girlfriend wasn’t going to be so secret anymore since Robin was on patrol and would have never called the cops anyway if he had been home when someone broke in. Provided half a dozen Bats didn’t come crashing in via the balcony door the second they get wind something was happening at Damian’s place before Robin could even try and explain what was happening. And wouldn’t that be a cherry on top of the embarrassing sundae his first impression with Damian’s significant other was shaping up to be so far.

“Hey, so uh.” Secret Live In Girlfriend said from her place perched on top of the kitchen island, Titus at her feet and bright green bat - or no, was that a collapsible baton? It was hard to tell, he hadn’t been hit that hard since the last time Bane went on a rampage, it was honestly impressive such a petite woman had that kind of strength in her - held securely in her other hand. Her eyes never left Dick from where he was bound and gagged on one of the kitchen chairs. “Sorry to call so late Day, but a fucking cop just broke into the apartment.”

Well, at least he didn’t have to worry about how they were going to explain why half the vigilantes in Gotham were busting in to her boyfriend’s apartment in response to a break in. He was slightly concerned at the fact that she had apparently swiped everything from his pockets at some point while she’d been maneuvering him into the kitchen chair without him noticing, but she had hit him pretty hard and the concussion was bad enough that he was pretty sure he was going to be benched by Alfred for a while once he got checked out. He probably just hadn’t noticed with how badly his ears were ringing and he was fighting the sudden intense urge to vomit.

More important than all that though, Secret Live In Girlfriend called Damian Day, and even though she was glaring daggers at Dick her face softened as she focused in on listening to Damian’s voice and awww she really was completely smitten with his baby brother that is the cutest shit ever and he can’t wait to tell everyone about it as soon as she lets him go.

“Want me to take care of him?”

Provided she doesn’t let him go in an entirely more permanent way.

Holy fuck she didn’t even hesitate before asking her boyfriend if Damian wanted her to kill a man for him. That was her first question out the gate. No hey should I call the police or do you know this man no just straight for do you want me to make him disappear? She’d even tucked her phone between her ear and shoulder so she had a free hand to pet Titus while she asked, the big ol’ hellhound leaning in happily to the ear scritches and entirely unbothered by Dick’s predicament, casual as anything as she asked Damian if he wanted her to murder his brother for him.

Dick watched as Secret Live In Girlfriend listed to whatever it was Damian was saying, her hard glare easing a little as she did. At length she let go of the day-glow-green baton and plucked up Dick’s wallet, flipping it open to peer at his license.

“ID says Richard Grayson.” She said, pausing again to listen to Damian again, eyes flicking up towards Dick again as she did. “Oh shit, your brother Richard?” Secret Live In Girlfriend’s eyes went wide, face losing all traces of that frigid distrust she’d been leveling at him, expression rapidly turning towards surprised and embarrassed. “…I think I gave him a concussion.” She said, looking sheepish. “You uh…you finish up at work. I’m going to just…untie him and uh…get him to a hospital.” Whatever Damian said next made the young woman laugh, eyes sparkling as she looked down at Titus. “I’ll let him know. Be safe out there.” Her expression turned warm and soft at what Damian said next over the phone, “Love you too, Day.”

Oh shit. Oh shit. I love you too. As in, Damian had said I love you. Like, obviously they had probably gotten to that point of their relationship to break out the L word if they were living together, but Dick could count on one hand the number of times Baby Bird had said that to someone in their family in all the years since he’d moved in. And he said it first! Without prompting! Or someone being about to die!

Dick was still riding the wave of that stunning revelation of his little brother’s emotion growth when Secret Live In Girlfriend came into focus in front of him, the gross, now slightly damp sock she’d shoved in his mouth earlier in hand and a concerned furrow in her brow and - ah shit he lost time there for a bit didn’t he? Yeah, Alfred was definitely going to bench him for this one. Seriously Dami’s girlfriend was no joke with that baton of hers.

“I’m so sorry again about this,” Secret Live In Girlfriend said, “I just heard the door and I knew Day wasn’t going to be back home for hours yet and Jon is doing that thing with his dad tonight -“ She’d tossed the sock over her shoulder and Titus happily snatched it up and carried it off to his bed in the living room to destroy. “Are you - actually I’m not going to ask that, you’re for sure not okay. I hit you pretty hard.”

Oh, so Jon knew about Secret Live In Girlfriend. Yeah that made sense.

He and Damian had been best friends since they were kids - as much as Damian had tried to deny it when they were still little - and even if Dami had been successful in keeping his family of detectives off the scent of his love life, there was no way that he was going to keep that from Jon Kent. Superboy Jr. practically lived at Damian’s place. They were practically attached at the hip, there was no way Dami could sneak something as big as that past Jon.

“No worries!” He tried to wave her concern off - she’d untied him during his little lapse in memory, that was nice, she tied knots better than most rogues in the city and even without a head wound he probably wouldn’t have been able to get out of them on his own - but it made him sway a little which probably wasn’t all that reassuring. “I did break in. I didn’t tell Damian I was coming over or anything, I just figured I’d crash on his couch for the night. Sorry to scare you!”

He flashed his most charming smile and hoped that the blood dripping down his face didn’t diminish it too much. This was already a disaster of a first impression, and Damian had said he loved her Dick was not going to be the one to chase her off.

Secret Live In Girlfriend - he really hoped she didn’t introduce herself during that minute or two he couldn’t remember - rolled her eyes. “It’d take a lot more than some cop breaking in to my house to scare me.” She said, voice so sure that even if Dick hadn’t heard her casually offer to murder him on Damian’s whim he would believe her. “Here, let me grab the first aid kit so we can at least clean you up a bit and then I can take you to the hospital.”

Dick gave what he hoped was a brilliant smile and a thumbs up before tipping sideways and throwing up all over her shoes.

So much for salvaging the first impression.

[querenciasturniolo]

strange ⮕ c.s.

word count: 1.4k

warnings: lots of inner monologue, awkwardness, swearing, corniness, she/her pronouns

summary: request

a/n: this was requested again by the lovely @rainsoakedphoenix!!! this was super fun, and i had the idea to write it from chris’ point of view (still second person pov), so hopefully it works 🤞🏻

(this fic has jokes written in it about “chris having a crush on matt” bc of how prominent the jokes are in the fandom, but it doesn’t solely revolve around those jokes)

everything written is completely fictional. the people i write for are written with characteristics and mannerisms that i made for them, this is in no way depicting what would actually happen in real life.

The comments had been going on for ages, and Chris genuinely didn’t know how everyone found out.

the way chris looks at y/n in todays vlog ?

i never would have guessed the girl chris has been talking about is y/n, but honestly the last few vlogs have really swayed me

okay no, but how has this never occurred to me ? i would have thought she’d end up with matt

Sure, he’d always had a hard time hiding his emotions on his face, but surely the fans didn’t really know he had feelings for you. He’d tried to ignore all of the comments about it, until the edits started rolling in. Every other edit on his for you page was the way he looked at you when you weren’t looking, or the way he’d look away when you turned to face him with pink cheeks.

It was his fault, for letting it slip on a live that he had feelings for someone, and of course the fans started sleuthing. It wasn’t like he’d declared his love for you on the top of a building with a megaphone, but the swiftness in which the questioning comments turned into matter-of-fact statements on any vlog you were in or any photo dump you were included in had Chris realizing he really should learn to control his face.

“Have you seen this one?” Matt asked. Chris looked up from his phone and watched Matt’s screen. It was an edit, a few of the clips from Wednesday’s vlog showing how disgustingly enamored he looked with you. Chris groaned and flopped back on Matt’s bed. “Did you read the caption?” Matt asked, his voice sounding as if he was holding back a laugh.

Chris shook his head and mumbled a reply into the pillow, not even understanding himself as Matt read it out loud. “Chris really went from having a crush on Matt to having a crush on the girl equivalent.” Chris pulled the pillow off of his face and glared, Matt’s laughter spilling out of him as he pulled his phone back towards him.

“Don’t laugh at a joke about me having a crush on you, it’s fucking weird.” Chris grumbled. “And she isn’t even that much like you.”

Matt huffed and shrugged his shoulders. “Tell that to the countless comparison edits of the two of us on my for you page.” He retorted, Chris rolling his eyes and sitting up to throw the pillow in his direction. He stood, Matt glancing up from his phone with a frown. “Where are you going?”

He turned. “The living room, your presence is getting on my nerves.” He said, Matt scoffing and turning his attention back to his phone.

Of course he’d seen the comparison edits, how could he not? You were soft spoken, only occasionally getting loud enough when whatever you were talking about was important to you. You were incredibly observant, and never the first person to point something out. All of the fans had said you and Matt were one in the same, which made sense as to how comfortable Chris was around you almost immediately. But it was still odd that the fans said that, because to Chris, you were just…you, and he couldn’t help but catch feelings for you.

In all reality, it hit him like a truck, and it scared the shit out of him. One day, the four of you were hanging out, and then out of nowhere, he had a headache with how fast the realization hit him. Things were different after that, at least for him. It felt as though everything that came out of his mouth directed at you was awkward, and that you could see right through the facade he held up to keep his feelings from you unknown.

You’d continued to be yourself throughout everything, though it worried him that any time the jokes about Chris’ crush on you were brought up, you’d immediately blush and change the topic. He didn’t want to immediately think that you had feelings for him as well, but he also didn’t want to think you didn’t. He didn’t know what he wanted, truthfully. He wanted everything out in the open, but at the same time he didn’t.

Chris groaned and flopped forward on the couch, his groan being muffled by the couch cushions. He stayed like that for a while, ignoring the buzzing on his phone until he heard Nick walking down the stairs.

“Dude, Y/n’s been at the door for like five minutes, why the fuck didn’t you let her in?” He asked, not giving Chris a chance to answer before he descended the second staircase and opened the door. “Sorry about him, he’s in a mood or something.”

Chris heard your quiet reply and the sound of you and Nick climbing the stairs again. He still hadn’t moved from his position on the couch, even when he felt the cushion dip next to him.

“Everything alright?”

His heart rate spiked at the sound of your voice and he shrugged, though it didn’t work well. You laughed softly, and it felt like every nerve was on high alert. He finally pushed himself up and sat next to you, running a hand through his hair before meeting your eyes. You always had a look on your face, like you knew something was bothering him even though he hadn’t said anything.

“How do you do that?” He asked. You frowned.

“Do what?” You asked.

Chris sighed and shrugged his shoulders. “You always know when something is bugging me.” He said. You chuckled and shook your head, your eyebrows raising.

“Chris, I walked in and you were laying face down on the couch. It’s pretty obvious that something is bothering you.” You said, your voice light and teasing.

He blinked and sighed, putting his head in his hands. “Jesus, that was dumb, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, it’s funny. One thing I can tell is that you want to talk to me about it, unless that’s just me being hopeful.” You said, Chris looking over at you. It was true, you were the only person he wanted to talk to about this. He nodded, and he couldn’t help but relax when you adjusted to face him completely, and just watched him patiently.

It took him longer than he was expecting. He usually could say anything without a problem, whether he messed up his words or not, but this was you. He’d never had a problem talking to you about how he was feeling before, but it was near impossible when it directly applied to you.

You hadn’t pushed him, which he was grateful for. You sat right in front of him and waited patiently, nodding your head in encouragement each time he was about to speak, but not reacting when he didn’t. He groaned and threw his head back.

“Jesus, why is this so hard?” Chris mumbled. You shook your head and rested your hand over his, lightly squeezing it.

“Chris, it’s okay. Take your time, I’m not going anywhere.” You said, Chris sighing and nodding his head.

He was silent for a few minutes, but eventually met your eyes and took a deep breath.

“Do you wanna, like, go out? On a date?” He asked. You blinked, your face heating up and your heart racing as you processed what he said.

“Like, for real? This isn’t just because of all of the comments?” You asked, Chris smiling shyly and shaking his head.

“Well, the fans were right. I mean, about me liking you.” He said, wringing his hands together in his lap to take attention away from them shaking.

You couldn’t help but smile at him for a moment, looking away when his eyes met yours.

“I didn’t know it was true.” You said, your voice almost a whisper.

Chris glanced over at you, his chest pounding when he realized you hadn’t answered him, and that you couldn’t look at him.

“We don’t have to, if you don’t feel the same. It’s fine, really.” He said, pushing himself off of the couch. He paused when your hand gripped his wrist, looking down to see you grinning up at him. You shook your head and stood, trying your best to keep your eyes on his. It was insane, how someone’s eyes could be so intimidating but so kind and full of love all at once.

“I’d love to, really.” You said, blush traveling from his neck to his face. He cleared his throat and nodded, trying his best to fight off the dorky smile on his face.

“Okay.” He said, his voice quiet.

You chuckled. “Okay.” You repeated awkwardly, Chris’ smile coming in full force. You stood on your tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his cheek, his eyes widening slightly when you dropped down to your heels. You smiled at him, entwining your fingers with his.

Your hand fit so well in his, like a puzzle piece. He watched as you looked down at your hands. He ran his thumb over the side of your hand, smiling at the way you looked up at him shyly. He frowned when your eyes lit up and you smiled at him, confusion clouding his face as you lightly bumped his shoulder with yours.

“So that’s why you’ve been acting so strange.”

[therabbitthatpostthings]

Learning Czech for my Arcane fics. Russian for the YOI fics. Spanish for the Voltron fics and French just cause. Call me Mr. Worldwide. In all seriousness, half the languages I’m learning are just because I’m tired of looking for shows with subtitles.

Hurt/Comfort, slight ooc, thinly veiled venting session

(Masterpost)

✒︎⋆✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧⋆✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧⋆𖡼𖤣⋆ 𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊⋆✩₊˚

“Um, Councilman Talis?” Her meek voice echoed off the laboratory walls. It was a stormy afternoon. The crackling lighting illuminated the walls. The room was grand, dark and quiet. The door creaked behind as she approached the work bench. “C-Councilman…”

“He’s gone.” A voice cut through. She turned over to find the other scientist hunched over his desk.

“Oh, I was actually looking for you Mr.Viktor..sir…”

He did not look up. “Yes, what is it?”

“Um, Assistant (L/N) is still in the greenhouse. I’m heading home and I was hoping you could check on them at some point.”

That caught his attention. You had today off, that’s what you told him at least. Viktor sat up, bones cracking into place as he stretched. “Yes, thank you. I will go to them before I leave today.”

She sighed in relief, “Thank you so much! It’s been a stressful week for us all.”

“Did something happen at the hearing?” He asked before she could leave the room.

Worry built up in her silence. Concern in her voice she asked, “Were you not informed?”

✒︎⋆✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧⋆✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧⋆𖡼𖤣⋆ 𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊⋆✩₊˚

It’s such a shitty day for rain. You spent the last five hours cleaning the greenhouse, taking notes on fungal growth and angrily writing sticky notes for your morning shift colleagues. Notes you didn’t have to write since you would most likely be back here to do more work anyway but, maybe the thought of you not coming in would evoke some sort of productive reaction.

Some called it unnecessary. But they weren't botanists. They didn’t work at Piltover Academy. They weren’t on the cornerstone of something revolutionary.

You were. Well, you were.

It was a bitter feeling to wash down but you did nonetheless. You pushed aside the negative thoughts when you heard footsteps coming towards you.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” Viktor said.

You spared him a glance before going back to your sticky notes. “Funny, I was gonna say the same thing.”

He took a few steps, towering over your crouching body. He eyed the myriad of colorful notes lining each individual planter and pot. “Why didn’t you tell me you came in?”

“Did it matter? I thought I’d be done by now but of course! No one does their job but me around here.” Your dismissive tone didn’t do much to sway him. He still stood behind you, watching you work. “Who told you I was here?”

“That’s not important-”

“It was Reecee wasn’t it.” You groaned.

“It doesn’t matter who told me. You’re here and you're upset.” He stated.

You scoffed, “I am not.”

“(Y/N).”

Of course you couldn’t hide your destestion from one of Piltover’s Finest, much less your boyfriend.

“Tell me what happened.” He urged.

“Didn’t Reecee tell you?”

“She said you had a meeting.”

“A meeting?” You said with a disparaging smile. “I had the meeting today.”

Viktor was well aware of “the meeting”. You had spoken about it at length ever since you were students. This was your Hextech. Your years of studying and research to get this meeting. Yet here you were, hunched over little sprouts on a cold rainy day.

You had a pained smile as you turned to face Viktor. “They didn’t even care. Years. Years of testing soil in the Undercity to clean the air, and they didn’t. Even. Care.”

Your voice was shaking. Your smile was dropping. Tears built up in your eyes. You could hear the committee’s voice clear as day.

“It’s just not viable.”

“We don’t have a large enough…overview of the Undercity’s layout.”

“The experiment could damage the already established ecosystem.”

Like they gave a shit about the ecosystem. Like they gave a shit about the Undercity!

“I was so desperate that I even said you and Jayce would back me up! It didn’t matter. They didn’t care! You know who did get a meeting with the higher council?! Ian-fucking-Rottmeiser!” You launched the notepad against the greenhouse wall, the looser notes flying up in the air. Truthfully, Rottmeiser wasn’t undeserving. In fact he worked hard on his proposal to integrate more plant life into Piltover. But that was just it. Piltover. He wants to help Piltover. They all want to help Piltover. It’s always Piltover.

“So now I’m here, doing my job. Cause that’s all I’m good for I guess! Just another Lab Assistant.”

Viktor pulled you into his arms. Your hand bunched around his sweater as the tear overtook you.

“It’s okay miláčku,” Viktor’s soothing hand rubbed your back.

“I don’t understand…I worked so hard…why not me…” You cried. From the moment you were born you were unlucky. Anyone born in the Undercity was unlucky. Your father was unlucky and drank contaminated water. The rest of you survived until your mother died on the Bridge of Progress. That just left you, on the other side of the bridge, separated from your remaining family in Piltover. And you studied everyday. You made it into the Academy, you climbed the ranks. Not a day went by without you working towards your goal. To improve lives, to save people! You spent week after week with your siblings, collecting samples in the Undercity. Risking your lives, sneaking in and out of Piltover, all to this meeting. And they didn’t care.

“How am I supposed to face them again?! I failed Viktor! I’m a failure!”

Still Viktor held onto you. Painful wails left you until your throat was raw. You unclench your fist as you relax against him. Shoulders slouching in defeat and Viktor’s warm hand never leaving you.

You sighed with a tired rasp in your voice. “I just wanted to do something right. To know it was worth all I had lost. I should’ve stayed in the Undercity.”

“Miláčku, look at me.” Viktor’s soft hands cupped your face. He gently lifted your head, his thumb wiping stray tears away. “You are exactly where you need to be right now. You are not a waste.”

“I failed Viktor..”

“No you didn’t. You did what you set out to do. You won, they lost. And when Hextech helps advance organic life and biodiversity, they will all be looking up to you.” His reassuring smile helped ease the pain. No one in Piltover could truly understand you like Viktor did. No one in Piltover lived through what you did except for Viktor. From the day you two met you promised you would rise above whatever was thought of you.

“You would do that for me?” You cooed softly.

He pressed a soft kiss against your temple, “I can’t trust any other botanist but you.”

Viktor stayed close by as you closed up for the day. You begrudgingly agreed to taking the next two days off (which your boss suggested anyway). Mostly because that meant you got to keep Viktor with you for two days as well. A bolt of lightning illuminated the sky on your departure down the wet streets of Piltover. After a crowded tram ride you both huddled inside of your apartment. You both melt into the soft couch cushions. Viktor’s head on your shoulder, his hand intertwined in yours, soft kisses pressed into your neck with sweet words in his native tongue. You felt your worries slip away as you nodded off. Viktor took notice and shifted your body to rest against his chest.

“Goodnight, my love.”

[gravitywonagain]

Inquiring Minds

holy shit, i finished a thing. well, a draft of a thing, but still counts!

based on this post about wwx being just dead enough be susceptible to the compulsion of inquiry

--

It was, in retrospect, the stupidest possible way to be found out. Wei Wuxian will readily admit that. Unfortunately, the level of stupidity was not a determining factor for the level of reality — as was the case for so much of Wei Wuxian’s life.

It all happened because one of the two dozen Jin disciples who bothered to show up to the war got a little drunk and a lot prideful and ended up starting a fight he couldn’t finish. Or, that was the going theory, anyway. The Jin leadership — such as it was — wanted an investigation done. As if they had nothing better to do. As if there weren’t reasons to be conserving spiritual power and not wasting it playing Inquiry for a guy who had decided to pick a fight — hopefully, hopefully it was a fight — with a Nie disciple who, granted, did not have the startling musculature of some of her shixiongs, but was still a fucking Nie disciple! 

This guy was not worth their time. This guy was not worth Lan Zhan’s time. Or his attention, or his spiritual power, or the stress it would put on his guqin strings— okay, maybe Wei Wuxian should have taken a moment to purge some of his resentment before walking into the tent. 

But he didn’t. This is important. 

Because then Lan Zhan began to play. 

And there was this strange… tugging sensation in the pit of Wei Wuxian’s gut, right where his golden core was supposed to be, pulling him toward Lan Zhan, or toward the empty space in front of Lan Zhan. 

Wei Wuxian shouldn’t have ignored it. He gets that now. He does. But he always wanted to be near Lan Zhan, and his body had been doing all kinds of weird shit since he’d had his core cut out, and who was to say this wasn’t just another weird side effect. 

Well. It was. A weird side effect. After a fashion. 

But that’s not the point! 

He should have noticed then. He should have left then. But he didn’t. 

The melody changed and the tugging sensation stopped. Which was great! 

Until something else started. It felt like a kind of drunkenness, light and hazy in his head, loose around his tongue. Three or four bowls in. 

He shook himself to dislodge it, but the motion only drew a sharp glare from Jiang Cheng. 

The tent was full of spectators. At least two representatives from each major clan were present, plus several “close friends” of the victim -- like four of the fifteen total Jin disciples -- who probably just wanted something else to do outside of eat, sleep, and fight. Wei Wuxian couldn’t blame them, exactly, war was remarkably boring most of the time, but it was getting awfully stuffy in there. 

Lan Zhan changed the melody again, something almost lexical about it. Wei Wuxian could almost hear the question being asked, even before Zewu Jun’s voice chimed in, translating for anyone who didn’t know the qin language — which was pretty much everyone else in the tent besides the Twin Jades — “What is your name?” 

Wei Wuxian caught his own response between his lips, pressing them together tightly, as the guqin sounded three distinct notes which Zewu Jun reported as Jin Zixin. 

So, good. It was the right guy. That was great. Nothing weird at all. 

He should have left then. He didn’t. 

Lan Zhan played again, and again Wei Wuxian thought he understood the phrase, the question, even before Zewu Jun said for the tent, “How did you die?”

Wei Wuxian felt the answer fly to the tip of his tongue and bit his teeth around it, through it. His cheek bled with the force of keeping quiet. 

It was weird. So weird. But maybe, Wei Wuxian justified to himself, maybe it was just an effect of holding a secret inside for so long and having someone actually ask the question out loud. Maybe, it was just the same automatic reaction of answering with your name when someone asked for it. Maybe he was just too fucking tired, and the resentment under his skin just wanted something to laugh at, something to entertain itself with. Like the five of ten Jins standing in the back of the tent. War was boring, okay?

The notes from Lan Zhan’s guqin hung in the air, resonant and waiting. The moment seemed to stretch out too long. It dragged and Wei Wuxian gradually felt the words stop fighting him to escape. 

But the Jin ghost didn’t answer either. 

When Lan Zhan played the same phrase over — “How did you die?” echoed on Zewu Jun’s tongue — the compulsion was much stronger. This time it was like Wei Wuxian could feel Lan Zhan’s spiritual power pouring through him; the strongest of wines, several jars of it. 

He couldn’t fight it. 

His mouth opened. 

I fell. I fell. I fell. 

“I fell.”

All eyes in the tent turned to him. 

Jiang Cheng’s elbow caught him in the ribs. He didn’t even bother to glare. He said, “Not you, Idiot.” 

The qin sounded and everybody looked back to Lan Zhan and Zewu Jun, waiting to hear the Jin disciple’s answer. 

Zewu Jun hesitated for the barest of moments, stuttering into the start of his translation before finding the confidence of his voice once more, recounting whatever it was that the ghost had strummed out. 

Wei Wuxian didn’t hear a word he said. He was, instead, pierced on two sides. 

On one: Jiang Cheng muttered to himself, “Wait,” and then his eyes went wide as he looked back at Wei Wuxian. 

On the other: Lan Zhan’s fingers froze above the strings of his guqin and he turned to stare over his shoulder at Wei Wuxian with something like horrified understanding dawning within his gaze. 

Wei Wuxian finally realized he should fucking leave. Immediately. 

He wanted to run. He knew better. Knew what that would look like. 

Instead, he was going to simply walk out of this tent as he had walked out of so many already during this campaign. Gravel crunched under his heel as he turned. 

But his brother knew him too well. Jiang Cheng’s hand clamped tight around Wei Wuxian’s bicep, his grip unyielding. With his golden core, Wei Wuxian might have been able to break it. But the real bitch of it was that it was his golden core that was holding him in place. 

Jiang Cheng tensed as if readying for a fight, but Wei Wuxian already knew how that fight would end. So he let himself be restrained. 

He turned back to face the Inquiry. 

Lan Zhan was still staring at him when Zewu Jun finished speaking. He was still so stuck in place that his brother had to prompt him into finishing the ritual. Which he did, with all the grace and skill expected of him. He really was just so beautiful to watch. 

All the while, Wei Wuxian listened to the music and bit through his tongue to keep it silent. The questions continued to drag at him -- “Do you know who killed you?” Wen Chao. “Do you have any last requests?” To leave this fucking tent. -- though the pressure to answer eased significantly as the Jin ghost became less stubborn about it. Wei Wuxian settled for reciting the answers to them in his head until they no longer felt pressed against the thin seam of his mouth. 

It took approximately sixteen-hundred years. 

All seven Jin disciples supporting the war effort left the tent after the ghost had recounted his final moments. The attempted sexual assault was not unexpected, judging by their faces, but still disappointing to hear about. Clearly not the entertainment they were hoping for. Luckily for Wei Wuxian, they were apparently too wrapped up in their Jin nonsense to realize new entertainment was fidgeting in the corner and trying not to sever the tip of his tongue completely. 

The Nie, represented by Nie Mingjue and Nie Huaisang, left shortly after the ritual concluded. If Nie Mingjue had to tug his brother away, Wei Wuxian was too busy keeping his mouth shut to comment on it. 

And then there were just the four of them. Plus the corpse. But they were like six months into a war, so the corpse didn’t actually seem to bother any of them. It hadn’t even started to smell yet. It was still pretty intact, too, and now that it was verifiably a criminal, Wei Wuxian wondered idly if the Jin would let him use it in their next battle. Probably not. 

His idle wondering ceased abruptly as his brother’s fingers bit deeper into the meat of his arm. 

“Wei Wuxian,” he said, all of his surely filial worry for his gege boiling over into a spitting, incandescent fury. He never had to say he loved his brother, Wei Wuxian could always tell. It was the teeth gnashing that gave him away. “What the fuck do you mean you fell?” 

Right. 

Wei Wuxian played it as cool as he could with a definitely-not-bleeding tongue. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Jiang Cheng.” He shrugged, but his arm didn’t move very far. 

“You answered Inquiry,” said Lan Zhan. Succinct as ever. 

“No!” Wei Wuxian said, maybe a little too loud, but not at all childishly. 

Zewu Jun narrowed his eyes and pulled out his xiao. Wei Wuxian tried not to flinch about it, he did. But Zewu Jun only played a short, non-Inquiry melody, and a shimmering, blue barrier manifested around the interior of the tent. 

“No,” Wei Wuxian said again, this time at a totally normal volume. “I was just… messing around. You know how I do that, Lan Zhan. Always a rule breaker.” He grinned, desperately trying to play it all off. Realizing faster and faster how very badly this was going for him. 

Lan Zhan surprised him, then, saying, “Not when it matters.” 

“What?”

“Wei Ying doesn’t break rules when they matter.” 

Wei Wuxian didn’t know where the fuck that was coming from. But he couldn’t say he hated it. 

Except that he did, because it was going to be a problem for this whole I’m just a silly rascal defense he was setting up. 

Jiang Cheng still hadn’t let go of his arm. His fingernails were starting to split the fabric of his sleeve. And worse, his eyebrows were scrunched together in the way they do when he’s thinking through all the angles of a problem. 

Zewu Jun still had his xiao in hand, and he was looking at Wei Wuxian like he was deciding whether to perform an exorcism or an execution. 

But Lan Zhan… Lan Zhan hadn’t moved from his seat on the mat. He had turned his body so that he was facing Wei Wuxian, giving him his full attention, and was looking up at him with… pain in his eyes. Shining, wet pain. 

“You died?” he asked. “Are you dead?”

“I don’t…” Wei Wuxian trailed off. He couldn’t find the words. 

He didn’t know. Which was, possibly, not the best sign. 

“I can’t be dead,” he said, looking over at Zewu Jun, Jiang Cheng, then back to Lan Zhan. “Can I?”

Zewu Jun, still wary, said, “You responded to the compulsion in Inquiry. Inquiry is a song that speaks to and compels answers from the dead. It does not generally work on the living.” 

“Well--” Wei Wuxian started, defensive and scared. But again, he didn’t really know where to go with that. 

“Where were you, Wei Wuxian?” Jiang Cheng asked him. “Why didn’t you meet me at the bottom of the hill?” 

Lan Zhan and Zewu Jun shared a look. They didn’t seem to know what Jiang Cheng was talking about. But Wei Wuxian really, really, didn’t want to get into that whole mess. If anyone was going to see right through him and his flimsy tale about suddenly remembering the location of Baoshan Sanren’s mountain, it would be Lan Zhan. Actually, Zewu Jun would probably figure it out, too. And then maybe even Jiang Cheng. Now that he wasn’t all broken and desperate and gullible. 

Fuck. With the way Jiang Cheng was looking at Wei Wuxian, the way his hand released some of the pressure around his arm, he might already have. 

Wei Wuxian laughed, hoping it came off more smoothly than it felt in his chest. “Ah, Jiang Cheng.” He brought his own hand up to lay over his brother’s. “What if I told you--”

“No,” Jiang Cheng cut him off. “No more bullshit. Where were you?”

The mirth, false as it was, drained out of Wei Wuxian as he saw the pain building behind his brother’s eyes. 

There was movement in his periphery and then Lan Zhan was standing on his other side. His fingers wrapped around Wei Wuxian’s other arm with a much gentler grip than Jiang Cheng’s. Something imploring about the touch. Like he was seeking confirmation to a theory, or maybe proving to himself that Wei Wuxian was actually there. 

“I…” Wei Wuxian trailed off. 

Zewu Jun’s gaze was hard as steel, but aimed, it seemed, at Lan Zhan’s hand, rather than at Wei Wuxian in general. 

“There was a rumor,” he said in slow, even words, “that Wen Chao had thrown you into the Burial Mounds.” He waited a moment after he finished speaking, as if trying to reconcile the words himself, before he looked up to meet Wei Wuxian’s eyes. 

Of course, Wei Wuxian didn’t want to meet Zewu Jun’s eyes. He didn’t want to meet any of their eyes. He wanted very much to be out of this tent and away from knowing gazes altogether. 

Unfortunately, he hadn’t quite figured out how to teleport using resentful energy yet. So in the tent he remained. 

He looked down at his feet. His boots were crusted with dirt and blood and other bodily fluids. War really was super gross, in addition to being largely boring. 

“That’s ridiculous,” he said, still looking down. “Everyone knows that nothing leaves the Burial Mounds.” 

Lan Zhan’s hand tightened around Wei Wuxian’s arm. Jiang Cheng’s loosened, but didn’t let go. 

“Yeah,” said Jiang Cheng, like an accusation, “it would be impossible.” 

Wei Wuxian still didn’t look up from his feet which meant that he missed whatever silent conversation happened between Jiang Cheng and Lan Zhan that had both of them tightening their grips on his arms just before fingers were pressed to the pulse points of his wrists. He struggled, flailing as much as he could, but against Lan Zhan’s golden core and his own, he stood no chance. He could barely budge them. 

He screamed but the sound only reverberated inside the tent. 

The only thing he could think to do was to call up the dead. The dead man still lying in front of them. The Jin. Rapist. Criminal. He could use that wicked corpse to fight off the people holding him down, taking his secrets. Smoke curled out of his sleeves and he--

He stopped himself. 

It was over anyway. 

Even if they couldn’t read his spiritual energy, or lack thereof, his fighting them was confirmation enough. 

He went limp in their grasp. His knees buckled. 

It really was the stupidest possible way to be found out. 

“Where is it?” asked Jiang Cheng. But it was clear from his voice that he already knew the answer. 

Lan Zhan was silent. 

Zewu Jun looked to his brother for an answer, not understanding what they had just discovered. 

“His golden core,” said Lan Zhan. “It’s gone.” 

“Wen Zhuliu?” Zewu Jun asked. 

But Jiang Cheng made a sound that was somehow both a laugh and a sob. 

Wei Wuxian regained control of his arms. He sprawled himself out on the tent floor, exhausted from his struggle. He laughed, too. “After a fashion.” 

Jiang Cheng fell to the ground next to him, hands cradling the place where Wei Wuxian’s core now spun. “What the fuck?” he said, quietly, to no one in particular. Then, loudly, to Wei Wuxian in particular, “What the fuck!” 

His cheeks were wet. Jiang Cheng’s, his own. He looked over to confirm, and yeah, Lan Zhan’s too. Zewu Jun had nothing to cry over, except maybe confusion, but he was too cool for that, so he just stood in the middle of the tent, shocked, presumably, as his brother, another sect leader, and a demonic cultivator broke down around him. 

Wei Wuxian stared up at the tented canvas ceiling and cursed himself for not leaving the tent when he first noticed something wrong. 

“Jiang Cheng,” he started, but Jiang Cheng cut him off with a wet yell. 

“Why would you do that, you fucking idiot?! What the fuck were you even thinking?! How did you-- How--” 

He seemed to lose steam trying to figure out what happened on “Baoshen Sanren’s mountain” and potentially also why Baoshen Sanren’s voice sounded so familiar. 

Zewu Jun’s voice was remarkably calm for a man witnessing-- whatever he made of what he was currently witnessing. He said, “Wei Wuxian, I believe your Sect Leader would like to know how you lost your golden core.” 

Wei Wuxian laughed at that. Because yes and no. 

“No, Zewu Jun,” he said, still laughing. He tried to stop, but it was just too funny. “No,” he said again, slightly more sober, “he wants to know why and how he now has my golden core.” 

He didn’t really mean to say it. He felt drunk again, like he did when Lan Zhan was playing Inquiry. Ready to spill all his secrets at only the slightest provocation. Zewu Jun could probably ask him just about anything right now -- Lan Zhan and Jiang Cheng too, for that matter -- and he would answer it. It wasn’t exactly a safe mindset to be in. But he couldn’t really do anything about that now. 

At least there was some kind of privacy barrier over the tent. 

Zewu Jun stood. Speechless. 

Lan Zhan’s tears fell silently. 

Jiang Cheng glared, hands clutched tight against his lower dantian -- whether to hold something inside or to tear it out, Wei Wuxian wasn’t sure. 

Wei Wuxian felt light as a feather. Drunk and dizzy with it. A weight had been lifted, he supposed, but one he was never supposed to let go. His laughter died down to the occasional press of his lungs. Tears collected in his eyelashes until everything was blurry. 

Emptiness yawned inside him, but it was gentler somehow. As if the secret itself had been clawing away at his slowly healing wounds. 

“Fuck,” he said with a hiccup of a laugh. And again, quieter, “Fuck.”

He really should have left the fucking tent. 

Also, wait. Was he dead?! 

--

(7/18/24: now on ao3)

[hotchfiles]

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ❝ [CHOICELESS HOPE] ❞ — three. need in the devotee.

pairing: aaron hotchner x bau!reader. summ.: the moment leading up to the kiss, the drumroll, is as good as the kiss itself. it's certainly more innocent. it's completely harmless. cw: canon divergent. emotional cheating. right person wrong time. no use of y/n. wc: 1k+.

previously

    First cases were always an awkward matter, getting to know new people, having them wonder if you were nice or not and wondering the same thing about them. You thought maybe having Dave around would make it less clunky. Irrevocably wrong you were, as you had to explain the divorce from your cheating husband when he asked how the bastard was.

    Everytime you thought about your divorce it made something in your brain twitch, it had been finalized four years prior but it still hurt, and you got mad at yourself for being hurt, not only because it was a hit to your gut, your non trusting nature decided to trust this one man and he broke it so easily. But it hurt more as deep down you felt like you deserved it. Like it was your karma. 

    “I watched you speak about the importance of profiling for crisis negotiation once. You seemed very passionate about it, almost like Hotch–” You held in a sigh as the genius boy possibly every unit had heard of spoke. You were an expert. A leader in your field. It just happened that your field was the one Hotchner literally wrote the book about. You would have to deal with the comparison constantly now. “Why did you transfer?” 

    “Not the pay, that I can assure you.” That earned you your first group laugh, some of them looking over at Rossi, possibly understanding now why he looked so enthusiastic about your transfer, or because he was the one who mostly talked about the fact the pay was shit. 

    “She was the only one available with experience, and she was forced to.” Aaron clarifies from his seat on the jet, having thoroughly read your paperwork by now. You nod in confirmation, not caring that it wasn’t the best look to have been forced into their unit. It was yours first anyway.

    “Familiarity with the way Hotch works was a factor too, it seems.” Some things don’t come written on paper, only the influence of being one of the unit’s founders, like Dave, guaranteed that type of information, or at least you thought so, as that fact didn’t come to you as reasoning. Still, you wouldn’t lose the opportunity to tease Aaron, even if only a bit. 

    “Familiarity is a way to put it, huh? Most of his methodology was created with me.” Scoffing loudly was his response while he shook his head in disbelief, the rest of the team glancing from you to him in curiosity. 

    “Maybe write a book about it then.” Two hours into the first jet flight and you could possibly punch him in the face to get that little shit eating grin out of it. Or maybe kiss him. 

    “I thought working with you two together would make me feel young again. It doesn’t. I’m too old for this now.” Dave points to you both and looks back to the files, bringing the conversation back to the case in hand. 

    First two months he tries not to favor your presence, sending you off with Derek, Dave or Spencer to check crime scenes, talk to suspects, witnesses, but like magnets you two always ended up beside each other, too close, shoulders touching while reading files and completing each other’s thoughts for the profiles. 

    You do try to keep your distance as best as you can as well, favoring sitting alone on the jet, talking to Emily or losing to Reid at chess, bonding with the team was an important part of what made any work the best work possible. And it’s not as in better workplace, but better at the job.

    Connecting with the team made profiling better, faster, that was why you and Hotch were quick to make connections, quick to see holes, patterns, when you were together. 

    Still you catch his annoying glances that he makes no effort to conceal when you lock eyes with him, instead he smiles with his teeth and waits for you to look away. And you usually do. 

    Las Vegas being the final destiny though, you had your mind set on not looking away when he did his well known dance of glancing and waiting for you to look back, instead getting up to your feet and walking over to him, savoring the soft, almost shy smile he gave you as he took in your every move, from your seat to the one by his side.

    You take a spray bottle out of the pocket of your FBI jacket and hand him without a word, trying to ignore the way he makes it his job to linger the soft brush your fingers against his as he read the information. 

    “Sunscreen? You know I don’t–” 

    “Don’t like the feeling on your skin, yeah, that’s a spray one, not sticky, not liquidy and it dries out completely.” Aaron listens to you intently, but still has his suspicions, being shown clearly by the way he furrowed his brows even though his heart was skipping several beats by your actions. 

    “What about the smell?” He’s properly fiddling with the bottle as if he was a kid with a toy, taking the cap off and trying to smell it through the sprayer, you roll your eyes and extend your arm to him. 

    “It’s unscented, touch and smell my arm, I’m wearing it.” You’re not really thinking it through when you almost shove your forearm on his nose, he obliges it and takes a deep breath, you feel the air leaving his nose in your skin and get suddenly shy. 

    His cheeks flush in warm pink, the product might be unscented but your skin smells like… You. He could recognize it from a mile away. He thinks to himself for a second and realizes that maybe if sunscreens had your scent he wouldn’t mind using them. And when his fingers softly touch your wrist, getting hold of it to lower it down, he is reminded of how soft you feel so he has no choice but to drop it or else he would be holding onto it for as long as you’d let him.

[mimsynims]

Fool For Love

part 7

~~~

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6

~~~

Author’s Note: I wish I could say that this part wrap things up, but I need at least one (probably two) more before these two get their shit together.

More act 2 spoilers this time!

~~~

Astarion x reader/Tav

Tags: (mildish?) angst, pining, pining while fucking, jealousy, minor Karlach/Dammon, eventual happy ending

Summary: You thought you knew what you were doing when you let Astarion into your bed. He doesn’t have feelings for you, and vice versa. Only…now you do.

And you’re not handling it very well.

~~~

You’re at the edge of the camp when a hand curls around your arm, forcing you to stop and turn around.

Astarion.

And he looks angry.

“Were you spying on me?”

Thrown by the accusation, you grapple for words. “What? I– Of course not, why would I–”

“Just because Karlach chose Dammon over you, you don’t get to spoil my fun.”

The strange remark about Karlach is quickly overshadowed by his downright ludicrous allegation. “What the hell are you talking about?!”

Astarion carries on as if he didn’t hear you. “You were the one to break things off with me, not the other way around, so you don’t have any say in what or who I do.”

The audacity. “And I wasn’t trying to!”

“Sure, darling, sure.” Sarcasm drips off his words. “That’s why you followed me to the inn.”

“I–” You break off, because, in a way, he’s not wrong. “My intention was to have a drink.”

“If that was true, you wouldn’t have run off when I caught you watching me. Watching us.”

“Astarion, I don’t give a rat’s arse who you sleep with.” The lie slips off your tongue before you can stop it — the alternative is telling him the truth, and right now, that’s not an option. You feel too vulnerable, and honestly, you doubt he’d believe you at this point. “I only left to not make it awkward.”

“Really?” His smile feels vicious, mocking. “Perhaps I should go back to the inn, then.”

The urge to ask him not to is so strong you remain silent until you have yourself under control. “You do that,” you finally press out, “as I said, I don’t care what you do.”

Astarion takes a step closer, searching your face. Your heart is pounding as he scrutinises you; it’s as if he’s determining the validity of your claim. Will he see right through you? A part of you hopes that he will, and as the seconds go by, your determination wavers. Should you risk it?

“Astarion…”

“Fine.” His face hardens. “Have it your way. I’ll see you tomorrow, oh fearless leader.”

With a slight bow, one that feels tinged with scorn rather than respect, he turns around and leaves the same way he came. Towards the inn.

Towards…

“You’re such an idiot, Tav.” You drag a hand across your face. This is the second time he walks away from you, and it hurts just as much as the first time it happened. “Such a fucking idiot.”

If you were tired before, you’re exhausted now.

Perhaps it’s time you take a hint and focus on more important things, like getting these goddamn tadpoles out of your heads.

And maybe by then, things will have worked themselves out. Somehow.

It’s a good thing you’re not expected to be up early the next morning because when dawn comes around, you’ve barely slept at all. Too many thoughts, too many feelings.

You can hear some of the others stir, but you ignore it. And perhaps the comforting background noise of your friends talking and preparing breakfast is exactly what you need to finally relax, because the next thing you know, you fall asleep.

When you wake up, the only ones left in camp are Gale and Shadowheart. And Withers, of course.

“Oooh, look who’s finally awake! Late night for you as well, huh?”

Gale is far too cheery for your taste, but you bite back the snarky comeback because it’s not his fault you feel like shit.

“No, just…”

Shadowheart offers you a sympathetic smile. “Nightmares?”

It’s a convenient lie, so you simply nod, because the truth is far too complicated.

“Where are the rest?” You don’t really want to know, but it’s something you should be asking. So you do.

“Around, somewhere. Haven’t seen Astarion or Karlach, though.”

“Ah. I think I know why.”

So he stayed the night somewhere else, too.

Once you’ve eaten something, you and the rest go back to the inn. Finding Karlach sitting with Dammon is no surprise, but Astarion is nowhere to be found. 

No matter, you tell yourself. There are more important things to worry about.

There are a lot of familiar faces to talk to, keeping you busy. So busy you don’t even notice when Astarion joins the rest of you — suddenly he’s just there, in the back. A quick glance lets you know that he looks about as worn-out as you feel, and you can’t help but wonder if he stayed up all night with that person you saw.

Inhaling a deep breath, you tell yourself to focus on the matter at hand, which is listening to Alfira. It seems it’s time for another rescue mission because of course it is. You’re tired and the increasing burden tests your already frayed patience, but Alfira isn’t the one to blame, so you rein yourself in.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, a small voice tells you to take a break, but you ignore it.

You visit Isobel last — and it’s lucky that you do. The attack comes from out of nowhere, catching you all off guard. You don’t want to think what would have happened if Isobel was alone.

It’s a tough battle — made even more difficult by the fact that you’re not on top of your game. You’re struggling, and it’s no one’s fault but your own. 

You’re fortunate that you and your friends work like a well-oiled machine by now — because you will all be doomed if you fail. It warms your heart to realise that even in the midst of your falling out with Astarion, he doesn’t hesitate to fight back-to-back with you when it comes down to it.

In the end, your side comes out winning, but not without losses. You yourself have several cuts and bruises that will need tending to, but you ignore them in favour of checking on everyone yourself. You may not be the leader of people currently residing at the inn, but your neglect makes you feel responsible either way.

“Tav.”

“What is it, Astarion?”

“Stop it with this good samaritan nonsense and go see a healer, would you? You’re leaving a trail of blood all over this place, and I think they have enough problems as it is without having to clean up after you.”

His usual snark is both annoying and comforting. “Maybe once I’m done.”

“You are done. Now, Tav.”

You have intentionally been refusing to look at him until now, but his tone has you shifting your head to glare at him. It seems someone has patched him up already, as you can see bandages on his lower arm and hand. “Astarion, you don’t get to tell me what to do.”

“I will most definitely tell you what to do when you’re being a stubborn idiot. These people already have a leader.”

You know he’s right, but guilt is eating you up and this is the only way to placate the monster of shame inside you. “That doesn’t matter–”

“Tav.” Halsin and Karlach join Astarion’s side, both giving you a worried look. “That’s enough.”

“Right. Fine.” You may have won the fight, but you feel like a failure, knowing how many lives were lost tonight. “I’ll go and find Shadowheart.”

You have no idea what she sees on your face, but it’s enough to have her hold back any remarks and tend to your many wounds in silence. As you’re coming down from the adrenaline rush, you start to feel weary and disappointed with yourself.

“You should eat something. Rest.”

“Later.” You know she’s right, but you’re too restless still to heed her advice. “I need to, I don’t know.” Rising, you make a vague motion with your hand. “Walk things off first.” What you really need is to fall into someone’s arms and cry, but that’s not on the table.

“At least bring an apple or something,” she concedes. “And make sure to return before nightfall, or I’ll send Astarion after you.”

You open your mouth to object but close it again. That’s the perfect threat right now and you hate that she knows it. “Fine.”

“We just want you to be careful, Tav. We all need each other, you know.”

You sigh. “I know. I promise I won’t be gone long.”

“Good. And for what it’s worth, it wasn’t your fault.”

Wasn’t it, though? You catch Astarion watching you as you leave. He better not follow you.

For everyone’s sake, you need to be alone. Now, and until this whole tadpole situation has been dealt with.

No more distractions.

~~~