#rachel x paul

[alienbycomics]

Trans Characters From the Vault: Volume 4! This volume's theme is Fire and Fusion. Have some trans rep recommendations to get you through hard times!

Trans & Nonbinary Character Profiles #1

Trans & Nonbinary Character Profiles #2

Trans & Nonbinary Character Profiles #3

[byrachel]

Could you do a blurb/short story where Paul meets his imprint (shy!female reader) in the woods while in wolf form. And the reader becomes sort of friends with the wolf (as she had no other friends) and they (wolf Paul and the reader) keep meeting in the wood until Paul finally transforms and tells the reader the truth? Thanks :) 💞

UNEXPECTED FRIEND [PART ONE]

PARING: paul lahote x female reader

CONTAINS / WARNINGS: angst, hurt/comfort(ish), descriptions of an anxiety attack

NOTE: sorry for making you wait five years for this, that's actually so horrible of me. i was going through my old requests after talking to a friend i actually met through this account and i was suddenly hit with tons of inspiration. obviously i didn't complete the whole request so that why it says part one, but i don't know how long it will take for me to write a second part, because by now everyone knows how inconsistent i am lmao. i hope there's someone out there who'll enjoy this :)

You should have listened to your parents.

With an increase of mysterious and very violent bear attacks, they had urged you to not hike through the woods for the time being, knowing how much you loved to take out your sketchbook in search of the perfect place to draw. Like the angels they are, they even suggested driving you themselves to other cities for a change of scenery to spark inspiration. But being a hormonal, know-it-all young adult, of course you didn’t even waste a second entertaining the idea.

As the bear-sized wolf stared you down, you wished you could turn back time to a week ago, showing your parents the appreciation they should have gotten for even suggesting an alternative. 

Your heart crashed against your ribcage, blood whirring in your ears as fear froze you in your place. 

You were completely at the wolf’s mercy. This was his terrain, his home, an area he knew like the back of his hand. Even in open air, there was nowhere for you to run. For every four steps you could take, he would get to you in a single leap, his claws and teeth ripping into you before you could think to scream for help. 

If you weren’t imagining all the ways he could make you his next meal, you would’ve laughed at the irony of it. Even if you would scream for help, it was of no use. Of course you liked to hike as far away from human civilization as possible, trying to capture nature in its rawest, untouched form. 

Before anyone would even realize you were away for an unusual amount of time, you would be long gone. If you were lucky they would find some of your remains, leaving at least something behind for your parents to bury or cremate. 

Oh god my parents, you thought to yourself, tears blurring your vision. They were gonna be devastated. Your heart twisted at the thought of them blaming themselves for your irresponsible actions.

The ashy grey wolf raised his head, snapping you out of your never-ending self pitying thoughts and you flinched.

Slowly, he inched towards you like you were an unsuspecting prey. Remaining nearly motionless, he must have assumed you didn’t notice him and tried to come as close without warning you of his presence, before finishing his plan of attack. 

In an act of pure desperation, you dropped to the ground, making yourself as tiny as possible. You pulled your knees to your chest and wrapped your arms around your head, the straps of your backpack uncomfortably tight underneath the grip of your armpits. Like you had been running a marathon, your chest rapidly rose and fell as your body trembled in fear, your lungs feeling like they could explode at any moment. 

“Please, please, please. . .” You cried in a whisper, repeating your pleas like a mantra, hoping that a god, the universe or whatever deity was out there would forgive you for the simple sin of disobeying your parents. Surely this wasn’t what you deserved.

The ground beneath you shook with every step the creature took. His paw brushed along your arms as he towered over you, his heavy breathing coating you in warm, moist clouds. 

You sobbed as you tensed all the muscles in your body, bracing yourself for the razor sharp teeth biting into you, hoping he would nick a major artery or accidentally break your neck to make your inevitable end quick.

You waited and waited, counting down to the moment you certainly knew the wolf would make a move.

But it never came. 

From above you, the creature made a strange high pitched squeaking sound. He lowered its snout and nudged at your arms. Confused, but still terrified you refused to give into his unclear request, clamping your arms even tighter around your head. 

To your surprise, you were still intact as the wolf backed away, his high pitched whining continuing. It was only when a heavy thud shook the ground that you felt you could breathe again, your lungs desperately gulping for air.

You loosened your grip and slowly peeked between the gap of your arms to look at him. The large creature laid down a couple of feet to your side, his head facing you. His big brown eyes sadly stared into yours like you had hurt his feelings. It reminded you of your aunt’s dog when you didn’t want to play with him. 

He wasn’t whining. He was crying.

Your eyebrows furrowed together. Did you scare him? Was he empathetic to your fear? Either way, the wolf’s unusual behavior was even more shocking than the expectation of him tearing you apart. Whatever his reasoning was, it seemed like he had no intention of hurting you.

Still, you didn’t take any chances, trying to remain as still as possible.

Saturated from rainfall hours before, the dirt beneath you clung to your clothes, wetness seeping through the layers. 

At a certain point you weren’t sure how much time had passed, but with each passing moment your body recognized it wasn’t in danger anymore. The thumps in your chest returned to their normal rhythm, blending into your body until you couldn’t feel them. Your trembling gradually dissipated and your sobs died down. 

And with yours, so did his. 

It had been long enough for you to realize he wasn’t going to leave you alone. It was like he was waiting for you to do something.

You gathered the courage to move, keeping an eye on the grey furred wolf as you relaxed your limbs. Still shaken, you lowered your arms and carefully stretched legs to their natural position while pushing yourself in a sitting position.

Your chest still felt tight and you pressed your hand against your heart, starting a sequence of deep breaths —in through your nose, out through your mouth— to help regulate your system. 

Like he was trying to be mindful of your state, he cautiously rose on his legs, his standing height even more terrifying when you were sitting on the ground. But you didn’t panic. If he wanted to harm you he would have already done so and probably without crying. 

He observed you closely, making sure it was okay for him to come closer and you let him. You weren’t sure how to communicate with a wolf, how to tell him you would rather not want him to come closer, but as long as you weren’t his lunch, you would just play along until he hopefully got disinterested in you and moved on.

The wolf sniffed at your hair, face and arms, testing the waters as you stayed stiff. Without warning, he licked at your face with his large tongue. You could tell he was trying to be gentle, his touch tickling you. You squirmed away with a laugh falling from your lips and you held one hand out to him. Your other hand wiped his saliva off your face. “No, no, that’s enough.” 

Oddly enough, he listened. Or at least it seemed like he did, because he didn’t lick you again.

Instead he dipped his head down and your eyes widened. When you didn’t do anything, he nudged his head towards you. Not only did he empathize with your fear, he wanted to show you he wasn’t something to be feared.

Hesitantly, you reached for the top of his head and you raked your fingers through the strands of his fur, giving him a firm rub. He gave you a huff of approval and a soft smile tugged at your lips. “Maybe you aren’t as scary as I thought.” 

Growing more comfortable, you used both hands to pet him, sleeking the fur on the top of his head back with gentle strokes. “Now I’m kind of embarrassed that you saw me react like that. That was a major overreaction.” You chuckled.

Eventually you found your bearings, the grey wolf, you named Wolfie for convenience, comforting you with his head rubs until you felt comfortable enough to move freely around him. 

He helped you up, letting you use him as leverage to get on your feet. You dusted off the dirt as best as you could, but the brown stains would raise suspicions from your parents about your whereabouts. If they ended up giving you a hard time about it, you knew you deserved it. Even if Wolfie didn’t eat you, he scared you badly enough to not go against your parents’ wishes for at least the next five years. 

The grey wolf’s head cocked up, his ears perking at a sound your human ears didn’t seem to pick up on. You followed his line of sight, deeper into the woods, not finding what he was looking at. Suddenly he turned to you, prodding his nose into your side, shoving you from your place. 

“Hey!” You exclaimed, regaining your footing. 

He stomped one of his paws against the ground, giving you another push in the direction you came from. 

He wanted you to leave the woods.

“Okay, okay, fine, I’ll go.” You said sheepishly, adjusting your backpack on your shoulders. You headed towards the nearest road, guessing that with all the noise of manmade vehicles it was probably the easiest way to stay clear from any other animals who would definitely harm you if you came across them.

“Thank you for not eating me.” You shot him a glance over your shoulder as he watched you walk away, hoping he would somehow get what you were trying to say.

[rei-ismyname]

X-FACTOR 2020 Highlights 1

The Krakoan X-Factor was a fantastic little book, though it unfortunately was cancelled at short notice due to factors outside creator control after only 10 issues. On the positive side, those 10 issues were excellent. This post will be all issue #1 because it's one of the best team building issues I've ever read and lays a very solid foundation for what comes next. It's also a very queer book.

Issue one is all about building the team and the premise. Wasting no time, the first page is a splash of Northstar sensing Aurora's death via twin telepathy. He immediately flies to Arbor Magna and demands the Five bring her back, pissing off everyone in the process.

He follows Hope's advice and learns the last place she was seen was the Green Lagoon, but hits a dead end. Fortunately Lorna overhears and throws in, neo-noir style. Daken happens to be lying on the floor and joins the team too, though they aren't very happy to have him. The three put the word out via flyer and the band assembles!

Rachel Summers, the recently resurrected Prodigy, and... EYE BOY round out the squad bringing the number up to 6 + Amazing Baby, Rachel's warwolf that Betsy gave her in the pages of Excalibur. Prodigy uses his superpowers of common sense and deduction and they're off to Bellingham, Washington.

Rachel uses her oft-forgotten Chronoskimming to see Aurora's most recent moments in a motel room she rented while Daken 'interviews' the guy at the front desk and the team start to explore how their powers interact/pick up clues.

By their powers combined they track down the barrier Aurora smashed through into the water. Eye Boy earns his keep by narrowing down which of the many underwater cars it could be and Polaris pulls them out of the water. Plates are matched with the motel rental receipt and voila! Interestingly it's Daken who pulls Northstar back from searching for his sister's corpse directly, signposting his arc will be one of emotional and social growth. He has the skills, he just hasn't been using them.

Northstar rushes off and *ahem* presents proof of death to the Five. Luckily the Five understand he's going through some shit and his team has his back. The best X-Men stories are about found family and soap opera, and this ad hoc team has plenty of both.

Daken and Northstar's clash of personalities starts to soften a little and the rest of the team get their CSI: Krakoa on in front of the Quiet Council. Despite Emma's scorn, their impressive display turns out to be a job interview.

Turns out there's a lot of missing and dead mutants or just people lacking proof of death. Resurrection protocols stress avoiding resurrecting 'dupes' and so far the labor involved handling it informally is disrupting The Five's workflow. They're swamped. The team's actions demonstrated a need for X-Factor and their suitability for the mission.

The Quiet Council approves and X-Factor is (re)born! Lorna, despite having lead X-Factor before, knows she's not in a space for leadership right now, nominating Northstar and unofficially becoming his XO. In a nod to Polaris' inconsistent characterisation over the decades, she renders Magneto speechless by asking him to describe her personality. Lorna's arc is established as one of self actualisation and coming to terms with the difficulty of being Lorna Dane AND Magneto's daughter - no dancing around the fact he's been a shitty parent. However, he is trying to be better. Krakoa is a fresh start for all.

Lorna calls back to Giant-Size X-Men, speaking directly to Krakoa about their long history (she yeeted it into space if you didn't know.) Together, they build The Boneyard, X-Factor's headquarters and living space. The Five drop by with a gift and Forge shares his invention of fleet seeds, allowing anyone to submit a case to X-Factor. The Boneyard immediately fills with pink bubbles/cases and they realise they have a lot of work ahead of them - validating their commitment and giving them all purpose.

As I said in the intro, X-Factor #1 is one of the best team building issues I've ever read. Aurora's death is the inciting incident on page one and the team is formed by page three. Instead of stretching the investigation out into the first arc/five issues, it's resolved in 1 and we get to explore the team dynamic and workflow in real time. They don't need to grow into individual competence because they're already there. It's a strong statement that the investigations are a backdrop for character work and growing into an unlikely team/family unit.

Two of the issues are part of X of Swords. An event crossover usually threatens to knock a limited series off course but the connectivity inherent to The First Krakoan Age (plus X-Factor's links to the Five and Quiet Council) instead provide opportunity to explore existing themes and put the characters through the wringer. But I'm getting ahead of myself - that is a subject for part 2.

Next time - war, murder, and ACAB. Plus, Aurora's back!

[xmenshitposts]

jp's icon is by tepkunset

akihiro's icon is by clacefall

original under the cut!

[smartiequeen]

Akihiro is a master in cookand I wil stand b that till I die. He is so tired of themall being failues in the kitchen

[yellowballoondogs]

X factor hellfire gala fits redesign

[mjsparkour]

I’m really growing to appreciate that once we got Dune two and actually saw Florence Pugh take on the role of Irulan the paulirulan tag grew in size over the last couple of months. I’m glad I’m not the only one seeing the (potential) fail marriage of the century vision here. Denis can’t let me down the material is really all there.

This is not to say that I don’t like paulchani but the way Villanueve has changed certain aspects of Chani’s character (for the better in my opinion) has shifted how I feel about that dynamic. I’m not really sold on the passionate all consuming young love fest of it all, especially with how it’s played up in the books. Don’t get me wrong there are some beautiful lines but I can’t help but think about the missed opportunity with irulan (as a character and her relationship dynamics).

I also had my brain warped by Florence and Timothee’s chemistry in little women so I’m part of the apparent minority (?) that believes they’ll likely have better chemistry than paulchani. (Note: I have also seen racist stans on twitter praise their chemistry over zendaya and timothee on account of Zendaya being biracial which is disgusting and stupid).

I could write a whole separate meta on what I like about Denis portrayal of Chani but it honestly boils down to her having more agency and actual principles. We as an audience know she comes back to Paul obviously, we just don’t know when and what changes her mind. Which is very intriguing because I’d like to know what Paul gets up to in that time of separation and how irulan is involved. I also think, if Denis were to go this route, Chani could play a key role in forming a resistance against Paul’s rule (something she could end up abandoning when she goes back to him, also interesting to study motivations there. I feel like that can get really dark with Paul involved). Then the two would be on opposing sides in the similar way I imagine paulirulan would be on opposing sides vying for power in different ways as they rule together (like Paul promised in Dune part two, another key difference from the book alluding to a more interesting complex dynamic).

All of this is to say I want a real love triangle that’s not really a love triangle bc everyone is doomed by the narrative and it’s all really dark and gross, thus making it romantic.

[man-me--a-sand]

x factor (2020) but it’s an 80s/90s sitcom

[frantic-babbling]

thinking about the scientist by coldplay

except it's about darry and paul

except it's the glee cast version

so it's about darry and paul's overly dramatic breakup

choose your fighter: rachel/finn, santana/brittany, blaine/kurt, tw: mr schue--will/emma

[punkeropercyjackson]

A male harem wouldn't fix Percy Jackson,it would make it worse and i mean both the character and the series.It would've been fixed by transitioning and an almost entierly lesbian cast and i also mean both the character(Percy's pronouns are she/it)and the series(He/Him stud Beckendorf beating the bury your gays trope by her girlfriends Silena and Clarisse ressurecting her,Drew Zuko style redemption arc,Rachel Goode High lesbian adventures,Piper butchification,tfem comphet Sally and tfem stud Paul,Sista Grrrl Thalia and baby lesbian sister of The Second Argonauts Hazel)

[amageish]

Thinking way too hard about the queer possibilities of X-Men ‘97

When X-Men ‘97 was first announced, I’ll admit I was kind of ambivelent to the entire project... It felt very nostalgia-focused and was just less interesting to me then an all-new X-Men cartoon that could do its own thing without being burdened with established canon...

...and then I listened to the X-Men 60 Uncanny Years event earlier this year and hearing the executive producer of the series discuss what the X-Men meant to him as a kid as a gay black man in Florida basically changed my mind about the entire project. Now I’m excited for it!

The X-Men are so fucking queer. Even ignoring the ways that the mutant metaphor have been used to discuss queer issues before queer issues could be discussed textually, Marvel’s merry mutants just have... so many queer members and even more when you expand the list to include sub-textual and intended queerness.

So, with all that in mind, I did a little thinking and decided to take some guesses about who could make for queer representation in '97... Let’s dive in!

Part One: The Comic Canon Gays

Let’s start with the characters who are explicitly no-subtext-required queer in the comic books themselves. These are a few of the characters Marvel uses in Pride events and generally parades around every June.

Northstar

Jean-Paul Beaubier may seem like the vanilla ice cream of this rainbow sundae, but there’s far more going on with this character then the “Marvel’s first explicitly gay superhero” title that he is so often boiled down to. A French-Canadian superstar athlete, he’s lived never being entirely sure if his skiing career success was a result of his talent or his mutant abilities.

While his depiction in X-Men The Animated Series just had him be painfully French-Canadian with an on-the-nose accent and French exclamations, there’s a mean catty gay under the surface that is just waiting to be unleashed. They could also adapt his famous wedding arc, wherein he married his husband Kyle Jinadu...

Also he hates cops, so y’know... Maybe Marvel did nail the queer experience on their first try?

Iceman

Bobby Drake is arguably the most famous queer character at Marvel. A member of the original five X-Men, he was famously confirmed as gay when his teenage self was transported to the present and, with some unsolicited help from a teenage Jean Grey, questioned why his older self remaining closeted, even in a world that was (comparatively at least) accepting of queer desire.

In the original show, he showed unrequited interest in Polaris, as he had in the comics before his coming-out. This reboot could potentially give a more grounded and less fantastical take on coming-out then what he had in the comics... or maybe time travel will be involved again - who knows really!

Prodigy

David Allyene, aka Prodigy, is one of the most notable bi men at Marvel with one of the most distinctive coming-out stories. His mutant powers cause him to instantly learn things that other people know, hence the name Prodigy, and, through his powers, he also learned his own sexuality. How’s that for a crazy journey of self-discovery.

Prodigy is a newer character who did not appear in the original animated series at all, so there’s no continuity concerns there...

Mystique and Destiny

Destiny, also known as Irene Adler, met her lover Mystique when he was presenting as male and operating as a consulting detective in Victorian London.

Yeah uh. This is implying what you think it is.

The two of them have been lovers for centuries now, though both took other partners at different points during their relationship. Their love is something special though and together they raised Rogue as a child - as well as maybe sired Nightcrawler together? That was once intended to be Nightcrawler’s origin, but it was famously scrapped due to Marvel editorial not wanting to depict a child that is a product of a queer relationship at the time... but now this November a new comic will explore the “true” origin of Nightcrawler, so maybe Mystique/Destiny having a biological child is back on the table!

Mystique was, of course, in the original series. I’m not sure the actual odds of her relationship with Irene being acknowledged in ‘97 - partially just because I imagine Marvel would be concerned about backlash to queer villains... but also they’re adorable and good to me so I’d like them!

Captain Britain and Askani

Betsy Braddock and Rachel Summers are two incredibly complicated characters to summarize. Rachel is the time-displaced daughter of Scott and Jean from a hypothetical alternate feature, while Betsy Braddock spent like 30 years of her publication history trapped in the body of Kwannon, a Japanese assassin. While these two characters are some of Marvel’s most actively in-your-face unquestionably queer characters - the last Betsy story had a surprising amount of implied sex for only five issues - they’ve never really had a chance to shine in a multimedia way (well, at least not with Betsy in her own body and not being merged with Kwannon).

In the original show, Rachel cameoed briefly as a prisoner of Apocalypse while Pyslocke appeared without being named - assumedly they didn’t want to bother explaining the body-swap storyline. Personally, if they were to be in the show, I’d suggest that Betsy should be introduced as having inherited her brother’s title of Captain Britain, with Pyslocke of the original show being revealed to have been Kwannon in her own body all along...

Part Two: The New Mutants

There’s so many queer New Mutants that I’m just giving them their own category here... plus, with Sunspot being in the main cast, I wouldn’t be surprised if the rest of the time got (Sun)spotlighted as well!

Note that the sapphics of the first generation of New Mutants can also be mixed and matched when it comes to shipping. I present them based on the pairings that are currently canon/teased in the present comics, but Dani/Xuan, Xuan/Kitty, Kitty/Rahcel, etc. are all valid too and could be within the cards for the show.

Karma & Galura

The first explicit lesbian of the X-Men line, Xuân Cao Mạnh is a refugee of the Vietnam Boat Crisis, a thing which makes no sense when you consider that she is still canonically like 20-something years old in 2023. Her coming-out was a much lower-key affair then Jean-Paul’s, with her friends just casually running into her at the Exploding Person festival (i.e., Burning Man) with a shaved pink haircut and already travelling with her two “girlfriends”.

After the musical festival, she proceeded to fall in love with her roommate Kitty Pryde and then her co-worker Dani Moonstar, both of which were never (textually) requited. Recently, she’s started dating the winged mutant Galura and finally gotten to do stuff like “kiss a woman on-panel regularly” after two decades of being a lesbian denied a girlfriend...

She has cameoed in X-Men ‘92-related media with a design that is truly terrible IMO, but I think she could be rebooted and appear in this series in her full glory... especially after the New Mutants movie left her out entirely!

Mirage and Wolfsbane

Introduced in the original New Mutants run, Dani Moonstar and Rahne Sinclair share a unique telepathic connection, helpfully described as them being “soul-mates.” The Comic Book Code prohibited depictions of queer people, but uh. This first run is incredibly not subtle, even as Rahne nominally has interest her male teammate Cannonball.

Unfortunately, post-Claremont, their relationship was more or less abandoned for a few decades (coinciding with a massive downward spiral in Rahne content in general) climaxing with Rahne being killed off entirely in an allegory for transphobic violence... Thankfully, she recovered from her death and has recently been written by a non-binary author and now a trans author, both of whom have leaned back into the idea that these “soul-mates” may, in fact, have romantic feelings for each other.

Oh, also they were explicitly gay in the movie. So. Good for them for that!

Magik and Shadowkat

Another classic pair of X-Men “roommates,” Illyana Rasputina and Kate Pryde are another Claremont-created “soul-mate” duo - albeit without the telepathic bond. After decades of queer-coding, both were able to do queer-adjacent things explicitly for the first time in the Krakoa era, with Illyana asking a group of people of various gender presentations to make out with her and Kate kissing a tattoo artist who looks suspiciously like her bestie on-panel.

Pryde famously lost the spot of “Teen X-Men PoV character” to Jubilee in the show, but maybe X-Men ‘97 could give her a second chance... plus Illyana is one of the most popular X-Men characters not given a full spotlight in the original show, in spite of her more or less being an A-list X-Men in 2023. I don’t know if Marvel is brave enough to make this one canon, but I do think these two are two of the most obviously missing characters from the ‘97 line-up.

Escapade

Shela Sexton, aka Escapade, is a transgender sapphic who debuted in Marvel Pride last year and has since then had a starring role in the most recent New Mutants series. She has the incredibly unique power of the ability to “steal” things from people - including everything from stealing physical objects like their wallet to stealing abstract concepts like their emotional or physical state. Her character also generally has embodied the intersectional approach to mutant identity which has become more and more prevalent in the modern era - her mutant identity and trans identity are both important to her character, but neither are allegories for the other.

I think she’s probably too new to be added to the X-Men ‘97 cast pragmatically, but maybe they could have snuck in a cameo at the last minute? Idk. I figured I’d include her on the list.

Part Three: Let’s Get Wild!

Okay. Fuck it. Let’s talk about some comic book justifications that could be used to queer up the actual main cast from the original classic X-Men The Animated Series.

Jubilee

Jubilation Lee, the teen PoV lead of the X-Men, has been written as queer a handful of times, but never explicitly in 616. Most notably, she was gay in an AU Runaways story (written by N.D. Stevenson), where she dated a bisexual version of Pixie as well as an ice-powered sapphic named Frostbite. Monet also had a crush on her in the X-Men ‘92 animation-inspired comic book series. In terms of 616 content, her relationship with Laura Kinney has often been read in a sapphic way, especially in Liu’s X-23 series where Laura notably breaks up with her boyfriend only for Jubilee to be waiting back at her apartment to go out with her.

Storm

Ororo Munroe, aka Storm, famously has had a subtextual Sapphic fling with the bundle of chaos that is Yukio. They two met for the first time when Ororo went to Japan and their time together was almost immediately followed by her famous punk Storm era, which is very queer when you consider that context. Yukio was also later made explicitly queer in Fox’s Deadpool 2 movie, though the movie character doesn’t share much of the personality and thrill-seeking antics of her comic book counterpart...

Storm is the central protagonist of the original Claremont Uncanny X-Men and will be central to the ‘97 series as well. It’d be really bold to confirm her as queer, but I’d say this is the kind of move that would be worth it if they want this to stand out among X-Men adaptations.

Wolverine, Phoenix, and Cyclops

Finally, Jean Grey, Scott Summers, and Logan were implied to have been in a poly relationship throughout most of the Krakoa era - though they have fallen on hard times recently in the run-up to Fall of X.

I’ll be blunt: I don’t think there’s a chance in hell that Marvel corporate would approve this being textual... but I’m willing to be proven wrong, I guess!

WHEW. Okay. That’s my list. This is nowhere near definitive of course - I didn’t discuss Shatterstar’s bisexuality, Deadpool’s pansexuality, Gwenpool’s aroace identity, et al - but also basically every X-Men character is either textually queer or could be justified as being queer based on comic book lore. This entire brand has a queer poly energy that even the straightest writers weren’t able to fully shake off of it... so, while this is my list, they could really do anything they wanted (and that Mickey Mouse lets them do, at least)... We’ll see what happens!

[PS: In light of the strike and the general shitty way that megacorporations in entertainment have been treating their workers for years now, I’d be remissed if I made this post and didn’t encourage people to consider donating to the Entertainment Community Fund as well!]

[splooosh]

“only 35”

Paul Smith

[twilight-moodboards]

2/3

Moodboard of Paul x Rachel.

Requested by: anon.

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

Amor Fati--Chapter 9: Laceration

Paul and Maelyn have been trying to keep their relationship under wraps, but it all comes out. Caveat: Neither is their imprint. How long can smooth sailing go on?

Paul Lahote x Black!Fem!OC.

Series Masterlist

Complete Masterlist

Maelyn doesn’t cry into coffee mugs the next day. She ties her apron tight, holds her pencil straight and she takes orders like she always does. Maelyn does walk past both booths that Paul and her sat at for their first and last date without waiting on a single person that settles down into them. Maelyn doesn’t cry when someone orders the chicken sandwich. She doesn’t crack a tear at the people who order Pepsi’s. But when she gets back home, after the shower washes away the smell of grease and the light layer of sweat, and crawls into the sheets that still smell like Paul, she cries. Sobs racking her bones, tears and snot coating the pillow case. Paul is in everything and she’s not sure how to unravel it. How to pluck him out. Maelyn doesn’t know if she should. 

“Pumpkin,” her dad sighs, cracking open the door to her room. 

“He’s really gone,” she sobs. “I keep losing everyone.”

The bed creaks with the weight of her father, but he crawls up next to her, pulling her into his side. “Life’s just making space. I know you really cared about him and him about you. I’m sorry this is happening, but you’re going to be okay. I promise.”

The promise doesn’t ease the ache, doesn’t stop her heart from cracking into a million pieces inside her chest. She’s just always fucking losing. She can’t stand to lose again. Why did it have to be her? Maelyn doesn’t think she’d ever wish this kind of hurt on her worst enemy. She’s positive it could instead be classified as a cruel and unusual punishment to endure. Yet, she’s still tasked with enduring loss after loss. 

“Shh, pumpkin, it’s okay. It’s all going to be okay.”

She wants to believe her father. Leah had promised that this wouldn’t kill her, but Maelyn’s not sure if Leah was just saying that for the sake of something to say or if it was true. But right now nothing about this feels okay. Not in the slightest and she’s worried it won’t ever get better for her. She’ll only fall deeper and deeper into the hurt. She’ll die like those stars and never see what else she’s made of. 

It helps though when Leah sits with her on her days off, when the two of them browse the local thrift shop or sit and watch TV. It’s just enough of a distraction that Maelyn doesn’t think about the stone still tapping at her chest. The weight of it is still comforting, though as the days pass it does start to feel heavy. When Jake calls, Maelyn feels like maybe she can get back to some new sort of normal. Pack meetings are still tense, tilted in a way that looks almost normal but there’s the opposite sides of the room that Maelyn and Paul stand on, arms folded at their chests like a matching pair of magnets with the same ends now turned towards each other. A repulsion that quakes the gravity of everything and everyone between them. 

At the last pack meeting on Monday and the secret meeting to plan Embry’s surprise party, the chair in front of Paul that Marlyn would’ve taken remained open the entire time. Maybe it’s a sign. Or maybe it’s just the reality. That chair is no man’s land. A space too sacred to touch though everyone knows it’s there. 

“I can pick you up,” Jake offers over the receiver. 

He’d call the second he’d woken up--as the sun heads towards noon--and Maelyn’s wondered, though she hasn’t asked, if Jake’s hogging the phone just so Paul can’t call the house. He’d mentioned how Paul called at least once a day. But Jake’s careful not to mention why.  Though maybe the way he mentions that Rachel’s rather curt and quick conversations could be a clue. In the background, Maelyn catches the soft hush of Billy’s voice though she can’t make up fully what he’s saying. 

“Embry would love something like that,” Jacob adds. 

Maelyn’s father took more time to go through the last remains of her mother’s stuff. The sewing machine that Maelyn learned on turned up in the midst of the last few boxes and it gave Maelyn the idea to put patches on a jacket for Embry for his birthday. His party would be happening at the end of the week and she had just enough time to work on it if she got out today to find a good jacket and the patches. 

“I can be at your door in thirty--gotta shower. But I’ll take you.” 

The phone’s monotone drone after the call disconnects hits Maelyn’s ear. “Okay,” she whispers to no one and sets the phone back down on the receiver. It’s a good thing she showered last night already and had Emily cut her hair yesterday or she would’ve had to leave Jacob waiting on the porch steps until she was halfway decent. 

Before Maelyn can pull her hand back to pick up the TV remote, the phone rings again. “Thompson residence, Maelyn speaking,” she answers. 

“Mae! Thank god,” Rachel huffs. Her voice is hushed and hurried as she speaks. Maelyn’s heart thunders against her ribs. She can hear the rushing echo in her ears. “I gotta make this fast because I am almost positive the phone will ring again or he’s going to show up at the front door. But, what is going on? What happened that day at the beach? Paul’s…been hanging around here lately, trying to get to know me better and stuff. I keep blowing him off because Jake told me a while ago you two were dating. But apparently now you’re not? What the hell happened?”

“You should really ask Paul.” Though Maelyn’s not above telling Rachel what happened, she just knows it’s not her place. Maelyn didn’t imprint and it wasn’t her job to handle the unveiling of that information either. Maelyn’s mindful of the phone she has on the phone, trying not to squeeze the plastic too hard. The last thing Maelyn wants to have to do with her limited funds is buy a replacement receiver to the landline.

“Paul won’t,” Rachel hisses. “I asked him and he got cagey about it. But it doesn't make any sense. You guys looked so happy and then the next day it’s just over?”

Cosmos, Paul answered Shannon’s question in one single word, with so much regret in his tone. The sound replays in Maelyn’s mind at night, sometimes. It brings her a bit of peace. At least he’d been just as torn up about as she was. “Sometimes things just happen,” Maelyn returns to Rachel, hoping that it’s enough of an answer. Her voice shakes as she speaks. Because it did just happen. In the blink of the fucking eye it happened. 

“Did he cheat?”

“No.”

“He didn’t hit you, did he?”

“No.”

“Did he yell at you? Be super controlling? Abusive?”

“No. No. And no.”

Somehow it feels better to have Rachel rattle off all the excuses and reasons and for Maelyn to reject them. This way it’s less about what Maelyn said. Maelyn’s not the one telling, she’s just answering a question. 

“So it just ended?” Rachel questions. Faintly in the background, there’s shuffling. It sounds like Billy’s voice floating again. Maelyn can now hear Billy calling for Jacob. 

“It ended,” Maelyn answers. Her eyes sting just a little as she speaks. 

“But why me? Why is Paul trying to get me so like immediately after breaking up with you?”

The thing is, Maelyn wonders if she could’ve shared Paul. If she could be okay with half his heart always being tied to Rachel. But that’s just not fair to Paul. Ultimately, they’d both only be half committed to the relationship. Paul would do it, Maelyn figures. If she asked Maelyn to share his heart, he would. But that’s not what Maelyn wants. “You really should talk to Paul, Rachel.”

“He still wears that necklace. Jake mentioned it being a present to him but wouldn’t tell me who. But you wore one that sort of matched it. Was it you? Did you give him that?”

Maelyn exhales, the receiver pulled only an inch or so from her ear in efforts to hang it up. But she stops at the hurried breath of Rachel’s question. “I did,” Maelyn answers again, putting the phone back to her ear. “Talk to Paul. Tell him-” Maelyn shouldn’t. It’s not her place to, but Rachel deserves answers sooner rather than later as she did not have plans to stay on the rez for long. Maelyn exhales and pushes the words out over her tongue, “Tell him I said he owes me that much to tell you the truth.”

“What?”

Maelyn just catches the confused whisper before she sets the phone down back on the hook. It doesn’t make her feel good knowing that maybe she’ll always have that little piece of power, that Paul would always care about her enough to want to make her happy even if she wasn’t there directly. She hopes she doesn’t have to use it again. Maybe Rachel would have to be the one to learn to share Paul’s heart. Maybe he’d always love them both and they’d always be tied together, a thread of invisible string that could be plucked if anyone dared. 

But Maelyn turns the volume back up on the TV and tries not to think about the what if’s or the half commitments that she maybe could live with. 

“I’m going to kill him,” Jake huffs, after Maelyn climbs into the passenger side. “I know you’re still grieving and you love him and all that. But I’m going to murder him.”

Maelyn’s not sure why Jake never says Paul’s name in their conversations. But he doesn’t and she never mentions to Jake that it’s okay. His name won’t make her break. “What did Paul do?”

Jake looks at her, brow arched at the question. He wears some part shock but covers it well with an annoyed grimace. “You have to, like, promise not to lecture me though.”

“Promise. No lectures.”

“He ate my Doritos.”

The question nearly slips. She can feel it tickling at the back of her throat as she stares at the side of his face. It is Jake and it is Paul. Logic matters a little less to them and especially less so with food involved. But still Marlyn finds herself puzzled. 

“I can feel you judging me,” Jake laughs, cutting his eyes to her. He grins. “I needed something to eat and I’d been saving those chips for my sandwich. I specifically told Rachel those were my chips too. Dad doesn’t eat that stuff really. And Paul,” Jake says the name slowly, eyes darting back to Marlyn. But she’s only ever amused and concerned with her stare. “He sat up there on our couch and fucking ate them. He showed up while I was getting ready I guess. But he was just there. Eating my chips. Without asking.”

“And?” Maelyn questions. There’s something more. Jacob doesn’t look at her long, his lips rolled up over his teeth and she knows there’s something else he’s not telling her. 

“And I punched him. In the nose.”

“So you got into a fight over chips?” Maelyn clarifies. 

“Technically, he didn’t fight back, so it’s not really a fight. It’s an…almost fight.”

“You broke Paul’s nose over Doritos?” Maelyn corrects. 

“And because he broke your heart. And because he’s been trying to hang around Rachel, but he’s sulking too. I don’t know. I’m not proud of it. But I’m kind of sick of him at this point. He won’t talk about it. He won’t talk about you. Like at all. He is fine as long as the topic of you doesn’t come up but when it does, Paul just..he just shuts down. I really would’ve thought imprinting would just override that sort of thing. But I guess not.”

This is the part that gets Maelyn, hearing about Paul trying to talk to Rachel, about him trying to move on. It makes her stomach lurch. It would happen eventually. They’d both move on. But Paul has the shortcut. He has the easy ticket out and Maelyn has the slog, the dirty underbelly of the breakup that she’d have to slug through by herself. 

“You and I both,” Maelyn returns, staring out the front windshield now. 

“Hey, no, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought him up. Probably isn’t the best topic of conversation anyway. So, Embry, jean jackets, patches. I do think Ms. Susie has scrap fabric, or at least that’s what Dad suggested, if we wanted to run by hers first. I think we should personalize it too. Maybe, I don’t know.” 

Ms. Susie has more than once helped patch up an item of the packs. Jeans or well loved t-shirts they didn’t want to let go off. She worked as a tailor before arthritis took a strong hold. But Maelyn’s not focused on that. Instead she reels around and around in the thought of Paul at the Black’s house. Had Rachel called immediately after she talked to Maelyn? From the sounds of it, she had. 

And he showed up. The Blacks aren’t far from Paul. A ten, maybe fifteen minute walk at most. Not even worth the gas to drive if Maelyn’s honest. Nevertheless, Paul showed up. Maelyn wonders if he’d actually spill his guts and tell the truth. But if he showed up and didn’t tell Rachel, it would’ve been pointless. So maybe he will. She hopes Paul tells Rachel the truth. 

That damn invisible string. 

Jacob’s a bit too tall and a bit too muscular to be the perfect model. But Maelyn figures if it fits her right across the shoulders and it fits Jacob mostly right, then it should be fine for Embry. It wasn’t like he went for a snug fit in his clothing to begin with but she’s still mindful to get a tailored bottom to help make the proportions sit better. Finding the jean jacket was easy. In all of a two minute search Jacob pulled up the dark wash item, well loved and cared for by the previous owner. At the elbows, there’s already thick plaid patches, the cuffs at the end of the sleeves are frayed. But it’s the perfect base for them. 

As they scratch rusting metal hangers of the metal racks, the silence between them thickens. “Lyn,” Jacob starts, bringing his eyes up from the rack of t-shirts he’s supposed to be looking through. 

“Yeah, Jake?” Maelyn doesn’t look up. The sound of her nickname feels hesitant and she worries that whatever comes next will make her feel even more fragile than before. 

“If I didn’t feel so cursed, or entangled, or whatever it is with Bella, I want you to know that I’d stuff you into the Rabbit and leave with you. If you wanted.”

If you wanted. Maelyn wants many things and for the time being, she just wants to not feel like her heart is an egg shell, cracked, and leaking yolk. But that’s not something she thinks Jacob could fix or should fix. His eyes are steady on her when Maelyn finally looks up. She sees it now, the boy inside who desperately wants to fix the people he loves, wants everything to be whole again. There’s a tragedy to their lives--both their mothers dead. Maelyn’s the only child and meanwhile Jacob had his sisters. But now more than ever, Maelyn sees how parallel their fates are. 

“Hey, I’m a pretty tough cookie,” Maelyn starts. She reaches across the racks for his hands, and manages to only get a handle on the tips of his fingers. “I’m going to be fine, eventually. I-I don’t need saving. I just need time.”

What she wants to say, but can’t figure out how to articulate is that Jacob doesn’t need to fix her. He doesn't need to make things magically better. He doesn’t need to worry about her like that. Because this was Maelyn’s battle to be in, this was her life to handle. 

“But,” Jacob exhales, his face crumbling. “I’m your best friend. It’s my job.”

“No, your job is to be there. To threaten to kill Paul for eating your Doritos and breaking my heart. To be a scavenger here in this thrift store. To make sure I’ve eaten and don’t sit at home watching romantic comedies and cry into cartons of ice cream by myself all day long. That’s your job.”

“It doesn’t feel like enough. I want to make it right for you.”

“You already are. It’s already enough. Do you think you can find another red flannel that matches this print?” Maelyn asks, holding up the jacket and pointing to the elbow patches. It’s enough. She swears it is, but she worries if she pushes too hard to get Jacob to see that, he’ll only take it the opposite. That he’ll think she’s just saying it to make him feel better. 

Jacob blinks, but nods. His face says everything he doesn’t verbalize, How could that be enough? But Maelyn knows nothing she says would ever really prove that Jacob. Jake nods again though before finally putting words together in response to Maelyn’s question, “Uh, yeah, I think so.”

“Sweet. I’ll look for a couple band t-shirts or some branded ones.” 

Maelyn doesn’t need anyone to fix her, or to make things right for her. Life would do it, eventually, if it really wanted her to be in a good spot. She’d make a good spot for herself in this life if she had too, by blood, sweat, and tears, she would if need be. And she doesn’t need Jacob to do that for her. She wouldn’t mind him doing it with her, but it isn’t his job to worry about fixing her up. It is her responsibility to find a way through, not his. 

Between them only the sound of metal scratching over rusted metal echoes. 

Leah and Jake flip their cards again. Leah’s hand flies up to slap the stack and Jacob sighs. She’d called Maelyn’s house about twenty minutes after Maelyn and Jake returned with the jacket, flannels, band t-shirts, and patches from Ms. Susie stashed in the bags. Where Jacob offered a loud reassurance, Leah offered a quiet one. Maelyn dusts her fingers free of the chalk, her work in marking the quadrants for where the letters and patches should go, as she feels a set of eyes on her. Maelyn works on the living room floor next to the coffee table that Jake and Leah play on, with her mother’s sewing machine settled on a TV table off to the side of the actual TV with an old folding chair placed in front of it. The TV’s not on, instead the radio plays with static from the kitchen. 

“Yes, Leah?” Maelyn asks. 

“You look like you’ve been sleeping better.”

Sleeping better feels like it should be code for something, should make Maelyn feel insulted, but instead she feels relieved that her night of full rest was noticed. “I slept the whole night last night,” Maelyn answers. 

Her sleep prior fell into the camp of being fitful. She tossed and she turned. The fan never blew right. The sheets felt too hollow. She washed them four times to get the smell of Paul out of them though she’s sure after the first one it was gone. Maelyn didn’t trust the first, or the second, or the third wash. Yet, last night after she fought with her sheets, she drifted nearly dreamlessly into sleep. There were flashes--helping Paul make beef stew for the first time, her mother braiding her hair, a terrible sense of being crushed by the cold press of something in the middle of her chest. But when she pushed up, getting a good gulp of air, Maelyn turned to her side and then managed to sleep the entire night. 

“Mom wants you over for dinner soon,” Leah answers. Her nod is the final remark on the sleep conversation. 

“I can be over next week.”

“Good. You’re cheating, Jake. I can see you looking at your cards, dickhead.”

“You kiss your mother with that mouth?” Jake teases. “I would personally be offended if I were her.”

“Good thing you’re not her. Let me shuffle and we’re starting over.” 

Jake grumbles but hands the stack of cards over and Maelyn turns back to mapping out where Call should go so that it’s centered in the back of the jacket. She has some scrap paper that she’ll cut out with the letter and then trace those onto the flannel so that she doesn’t ruin her very limited resource. In the background, the flutter of the cards flapping over each other cuts through the whine of the guitars surrounding them. 

*****************

The paper crinkles in Maelyn’s grip as she places the box down onto the table where directed for all of Embry’s gifts. Quil and Jake are tasked with keeping Emrby preoccupied enough until the evening so that Sam, Emily, and the rest of the pack can assemble for the surprise party. It’s not a lot. Food and cake with some music playing. But considering Embry’s predisposition to not want to be the center of attention, there’s a strong hope that it’s small enough not to frighten him. 

“Maelyn, thank God, can you help with getting the streamers and the birthday banner up, right along the stairs. Leah and Seth are running late. I knew I should’ve just made the cake myself, but it was easier to buy the cake and then cook the main foods,” Emily sighs as she drops the box of supplies onto the kitchen island. The counter behind is a spread of finger foods--pigs in a blanket, chips, several dips, wings, a fruit and vegetable tray. 

“It’s a good thing I’m tall,” Maelyn grins, pulling out the letters first. In a small plastic bag she finds the tape and brings it all over to the stairs.

Behind Maelyn, there’s the rustling of plastic lids, the creaking hinges of cabinets opening and closing. It’s a comforting noise as Maelyn creates tiny loops of tape to stick to the back of the paper letters and streamers. She stretches up, trying to see just how long her reach is. It might be in Jake’s way, but her current placement should keep the banner high enough out of everyone else’s way. 

“You need a hand with that?”

Maelyn looks over her shoulder to see Paul. He places two presents--a small tiny rectangular shape and an envelope rests on top of it--onto the table in front of the living room. The handwriting is too small to be Paul’s. “Oh, I’m okay. Thanks.”

Paul nods and she thinks that’s the last of it--that he’ll heed the warning. The gifts settle onto the table and Maelyn concludes definitely that the card is in Rachel’s penmanship, now that Paul’s palm isn’t covering half of it. It’d been four days. Plenty of time for Paul and Rachel to talk. Plenty of time for things to change again. But the lack of Rachel’s presence hangs maybe worse so than if she had shown up. Perhaps, Paul did spill his guts and maybe Maelyn would always have that invisible string. 

Paul places the bags down, the two liter bottles thumping softly against the floor, and then carries on towards her. He’s gentle as he picks up the opposite end of the banner.  “Tape?” he asks. 

Of course he wouldn’t leave it alone. Of course, Paul would be just as stubborn as she would be. “On the back of it already,” Maelyn answers. 

Paul tips his end back and when he spots the tape, he lifts it up to the wall. His palm flat to the ‘y’ to make it stick. “Rachel passed along your message.”

“I’m guessing it worked,” Maelyn hums, picking up the ‘b’ and getting it situated against the wall too. The tape crinkles a little when pressed to the paint. 

Paul exhales a small huff and it almost sounds like laughter. “I guess if your goal was to make me look like a jerk.”

“I-I just wanted her to have answers. Not to make you the bad guy.”

“No, you’re right. She does deserve answers. It’s just, I didn’t want to walk all over what we had. It’s not a switch, Mae. Imprinting doesn’t mean that my feelings for you magically disappeared. Love’s not a switch and I guess I didn’t really want to confront the truth. It’s strange really. Logically, I know I need time to grieve, but there’s a part of me that just craves to be-”

Paul stops as his gaze lands back on Maelyn from the wall behind her. Maelyn can figure out what seems to be caught in his throat. She can see it in the twinkle in his eyes, the smile he can’t help that lifts across his cheeks. “A part of you that wants to be around her,” Maelyn concludes. It catches for a moment at the back of her throat as if it is clinging to her tonsils to keep her from finishing the thought. She can’t say crave, it tastes wrong on her tongue at just the thought of it. 

 He sighs. “And you’re not the person to be telling that too. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not a switch,” Maelyn returns. Paul’s not just going to suddenly stop caring about her, or feeling like she’s the person he can tell anything too. And she is the same. That damned invisible string. 

It’s where she leaves it, turning back to the bag of paper streamers in an assortment of blue’s, red’s, and yellow’s. Maelyn knew it wasn’t a switch. She found herself more than one with a can of Pepsi in hand at the gas station when grabbing a snack. Love may not be a switch, but Maelyn for damn sure needs it on a dimmer.

“Paul, do you mind grabbing some extra folding chairs from the garage?” Emily’s voice cuts through the silence. 

“Sure thing, Em.”

Maelyn’s relieved with the nock of an engine cuts in after Paul’s departure and Leah strides through the front door. An anchor. She won’t float away at sea if Leah’s there with her. “Sorry for the tardiness,” Leah rushes out. “But, here are two sheet cakes. As promised. Grocery store wanted to say they never got the order but the guy was just new and looking in the wrong spot.”

“She nearly ripped his head off,” Seth giggles. “But I saved him from utter destruction.”

“The guy had it coming. Why the fuck would we come to the store to pick up cakes that were never ordered?” Leah huffs. 

“It’s all done now,” Emily hums. “Let’s keep the cakes over here. The one with his name can sit out. The other one can stay in the fridge temporarily until more space is made.”

“Can someone tell me if these are even?” Maelyn calls out, working to put the yellow streamer up at the same level as the red one. 

“Up like just an inch,” Seth calls out. Maelyn pushes the top up just a bit more, reaching up on her tiptoes to do so. “Perfect!”

“Thanks,” she returns, pressing the tape into the wall again. 

The decorating is the shortest phase. Paul returns just as Leah and Maelyn finish with the streamers. Sam comes down the steps, boombox and CD case in hand; though he nearly immediately places Maelyn and Leah in charge of selecting the rotation on the grounds of refusing to be made fun of for his selection. It doesn’t seem like hardly enough time. But when Jared arrives with more CD’s, his own gift, Kim, and an additional selection of drink selections and cups, things feel like they’re coming together. 

“It’s just one day,” Embry’s voice floats up from the driveway. 

Sam, Paul, Seth, and Jared stand behind the kitchen table, facing the door. Paper birthday hats on their hands. Emily, Leah, Kim, and Maelyn are decorated with the hats too. Kim and Emily sit at the table where Maelyn and Leah wait at the door with more hats to pass out. 

“It’s your birthday, dude, lighten up,” Jake returns. “There are people who do like your existence, you know.”

“Yeah so much for it. Haven’t heard from anyone else besides you two all day,” Embry states. “So I don’t really know why you two insisted on dragging me to Sam and Emily’s.”

“Embry,” Quil interjects, “have we ever led you astray?”

“You? Yes, specifically when it came to the algebra test freshman year dickhead. I wouldn’t follow you down a highway even with a map,” Embry laughs. 

The voices grow closer and closer. The boombox is on just to the normal radio station that Emily keeps on. It’s in the hopes that this feels normal, that nothing seems out of the ordinary. Maelyn can’t keep out. She knows she can’t. But she strains and strains to listen for the first creak of the porch steps. Jacob walks through first. And Maelyn spots the short crop of Embry’s head as he laughs, possibly just ending a short tussle with Quil. 

“Surprise!”

The shout freezes Embry--the smile wavering for just a second. Maelyn slips the plastic hat on and hands him the Birthday Boy sash that Emily bought. “What is this?” he laughs, taking the thick satin ribbon. 

“A party, for you dummy,” Quil answers, slapping him onto the shoulder. 

Sam switches over from the radio and a bit more bass comes through the speakers. Maelyn doesn’t recognize the song but Embry does, his eyes lighting up just a little. “This is for me?”

The boy’s yet to move from the front door and Maelyn slips an arm around his shoulder. “Yes, for you. Did you really think we could forget you?”

Embry shrug. “I-I don’t know. I guess not now.”

“Not ever,” she corrects, walking him further into the house. 

Emily gives Embry a hug, while insisting he does wear the sash for at least one photo. Thankfully, he obliges. As Embry hugs and greets, things feel almost normal. The boys fight over who gets their plate first, though Embry wins with little complaints from the group. The house feels full, but not uncomfortable. The laughter bounces off the walls and cuts in around the thump of guitars and the bass of the kick drum. 

It feels so utterly normal. Though Maelyn keeps close to Leah and tries not to watch Paul. She picks out his laugh from the group, without even meaning to, as Jake and Quil arm wrestle at the kitchen island. The sound is just all too easy to latch onto so her eyes drift and Paul’s picking at the fruit platter, plucking grapes onto the paper plate but his gaze flickering between the food at the battle of strength. 

“Just give it up, Quil,” Paul eggs on. “Jake’s got you beat.”

Quil loses with a shout. Jake grins before picking up his plate. “Does anyone have faith in me?” Quil asks. He asks it with a smile and a shake of his wrist. 

This all used to feel so normal, like it could hold Maelyn with the kind of warmth and tenderness she’d lost in her mother’s embrace. Awkward, undoubtedly, and not perfect. But it was normal. Would it ever feel normal again? 

“No being sad on my birthday,” Embry comments, settling into the seat next to Maelyn. She’d tucked herself next to the boombox, prepared with the case of CD’s in front of her for when the album currently playing ends. 

Maelyn nudges his ribs. “Yeah, because you do enough of that already yourself.”

Embry laughs around his mouthful of wings. “Shut up.”

“Why hide during your own party?”

Embry shakes his head. “I’m not. You’ve made that literally impossible.” The seating is set up like a U. The living room is blocked off by the table of presents. There’s no way to get to the stairs behind them without having to scoot the chairs out of the way. Though there’s just enough space to scoot back to get to the bathroom on the first floor. 

“We knew our prey very well,” Maelyn teases. A plate floats into her periphery. For a second she thinks it might be someone else holding there’s out of the way to get up but the plate never moves and Embry nods towards it. 

She looks up, reaching for the food, only to spy Paul holding it out. Though she has half a mind not to take it, to say that she planned to get food in a second, she knows that’s a lie. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

But Maelyn’s yet to reach out to grab it. She’s yet to actually latch onto the gesture extended out towards her. 

 Paul’s laughter is short, but not one of annoyance. Perhaps, it’s even a little sad. “And this is the part where you take it, Mae. Washed my hands and everything.”

The second she has the plate in her grasp, Paul loops back into the kitchen snagging a scoop of salsa onto his corn chip as he goes. His voice is loud, barking at Quil to lay off the Pepsi. But rather than starting a fight, he settles into one of the folding chairs next to Seth, not directly across from Embry and Maelyn, but still in the line of view. 

The plate has a collection of fruit--grapes and sliced strawberries--alongside the drumettes of the wings, but no flats. A tiny plastic cup rests on the side with her dipping sauce for the wings. The center has a collection of chips too and another side dish for the spinach dip. A collection of food that Maelyn would make for herself, that she might’ve asked Paul to make for her so she wouldn’t have to miss the timing of the CD. All her sauces separate so they don’t run. It’s the tiny details, the most minuscule things to even notice. She didn’t think Paul could forget them all in two weeks. But he definitely didn’t have to do this and he didn’t have to do it just how she likes. 

“You know,” Embry starts, “you’re handling this better than I would’ve thought. Jake keeps me updated. Because I’m sure you’re sick of people checking up on you.”

It feels awful, Maelyn knows that she’s not letting on how much it’s made her ache. And she’s not as angry. Not at Rachel or at Paul. Just a little bit of stings when she thinks about how cruel the universe can be. The loss of what once, trying to find any way to feel the hole is what haunts Maelyn. That’s the hardest part. But Maelyn didn’t want to burden anyone else with the tears. Leah and Jacob both had dealt with plenty. 

“You can always bug me, Embry,” she says looking up from the plate. “I don’t mind.”

He shrugs. “I know you don’t. But I don’t want it to get bothersome.”

“You’re not bothersome.”

“Clearly not,” Embry laughs, gesturing to the room. “Probably took Emily weeks to plan this.”

“And I’d do it again,” Emily interjects, hands pressing down his shoulders.“Let us know when and how you want to do gifts. I’m thinking before cake so that if you want to pull the plug immediately after, we can just divide out sections and give you a slice with a candle. You will not get out of having us sing happy birthday to you.” 

“You guys sound like dying cats,” Embry huffs. 

“But we’re your dying cats. So I don’t want any more excuses, buddy,” Emily laughs. She shuffles on behind them, possibly towards the bathroom. 

Embry groans, his smile tiny as he goes back to shoveling more chips into his mouth. Jacob crosses the room, finger already pointing out to her plate. He strides confidentially and stops just a hair to her left—blocking Paul from her view. “Gonna finish those?”

Maelyn looks down at the drumettes and picks one up tearing into the flesh with her teeth. The crispy skin snaps with her force. “Yeah,” Maelyn adds after swallowing down her bite. 

“Good,” he nods. She doesn’t miss the assessing stare, the calculation floating behind his eyes. She assumes it’s him trying to see if she’s going to crack, if she wants to hand off Paul’s gesture without it seeming rude. But part of her is glad for good graces. Even if it aches. 

The rendition of Happy Birthday isn’t nearly as cacophonic as dying cats, but not everyone is intune with the others. However, Embry stands next to the vanilla sheet cake with the eighteen candles, ears plugged but laughing at the group. “Happy Birthday to you,” the group concludes. 

“Happy birthday to ya! Happy birthday! Happy birthday to ya!” Maelyn cuts in, a rendition of the birthday song that her mother would tack on at the end of her birthdays. A tradition she is happy to carry on. Only Jake sings along as Maelyn runs through the chorus one more time. He’s heard it for plenty of birthdays and been on the receiving end of it as well. 

Embry shuts his eyes as the last of the singing fades. The entire group is quiet until the smell of smoke hits the air from the blown out candles. “I want the slice with my name on it,” Embry bellows. He opted to do cake before presents and Maelyn can only assume it’s so that others are distracted with cake while he slips away. 

Maelyn and Paul stay on opposite sides of the room, like it appears to be their new normal, too aware of the other but pretending not to be. Embry slips over the present table and Maelyn, after noticing all the corner pieces have been served, slips away too. Embry goes for the cards first, settling into the folding chair. “Thanks, Sam,” he calls out, holding up the white envelope with his name on it in Sam’s all caps penmanship. 

“You’re welcome!”

Card after card Embry hollers out this thanks, pocketing the cash and gift cards all the while. He pauses at the red one, in Rachel’s handwriting, eyes scanning over the table in front of him. “Do you know who this is from? I can see your gift there,” Embry asks. 

“No,” Maelyn answers. “It looks like Rachel’s handwriting though.”

Embry’s mouth falls into a nearly perfect ‘O’. He unfurls the tucked in flap of the envelope. The card is red to match the outside, a generic gold script on the front wishing the recipient a wonderful birthday. The inside appears to be just as short and Embry plucks up the gift card inside with a halfway impressed nod. “Thank you, Rachel,” Embry states softly. 

He moves onto the smaller gifts. “Thanks, Paul!” Embry calls out holding up the CD. “But I have a feeling I should really be thanking Maelyn.”

She shakes her head when Embry glances over to her. “My name’s not on it.”

Embry leans into the table, laughing. The paper birthday hat bobbles with the action a little. “Paul doesn’t know his head from his own ass sometimes. Besides, I was talking to him just Tuesday about this band and he said he’d never heard of them. I talk about them all the time. So thanks, Mae, for trying to keep Paul from looking like a babbling buffoon.”

“And if it hadn’t been Mae and I was really trying to keep the surprise, you’d look like the buffoon not me,” Paul huffs. He shoves at Embry’s shoulders lightly, a grin on his lips. “But she did order it. So you’re right.”

Embry throws a jab backwards, it just misses Paul. “I know I am. But thanks--to you both.” 

“You’re welcome.” Their voices echo in tandem. In the second that Maelyn rolls her eyes, it feels normal. Until she doesn’t reach for Paul and Paul doesn’t reach for her. They stand still on opposite sides of Embry and do not cross that invisible line between them. 

The gift from Emily is a handcrafted leather wallet, which Embry immediately puts to use with the cash and gift cards. He calls out his gratitude to her and then reaches for the box. The birthday wrapping paper doesn’t stand a chance as Embry tears into the and pops the two pieces of tape holding the sides together. And there in the white paper box is the jean jacket.

The front left part of the chest has a Nirvana t-shirt stitched into it, still maintaining the functional pocket and there’s a few pieces of the flannel stitched into the top of the pocket on the right side. Embry freezes for a moment, fingers just barely tracing over the collar of the jacket. “What did you do, Maelyn?” The question is filled with awe. 

“Look at the back,” she instructs.

Embry takes the denim jacket into his hands and pulls up, the jacket unfolds and he turns it around. Stitched into the middle of the back is his last name of the same matching flannel from the front. It differs from the elbow patches---the elbows are a black and white checkered flannel and the pocket and back are a green checkered pattern. But the red’s match perfectly. “No fucking way,” Embry laughs. An old Coke t-shirt is stitched just below it, a perfect rectangle. Around the arms are more logos of bands. One that Maelyn hopes Embry likes, but they looked cool enough to be added to the jacket. 

“Oh my god,” Embry grins, dropping the jacket to the box again and scrambling to push out of the seat. “You made that? For me?”

Maelyn nods. In the seconds it takes her to complete the action, she’s engulfed. Embry’s chest colliding into hers, his arms thrown around her neck. Maelyn hugs back, head resting just briefly against his. “You still need to try it on, you know? Make sure it fits and all?”

“Thank you,” he returns in a whisper. 

“Of course, Embry.”

He takes the jacket up again once he’s out of the hug and slips into the sleeves. It’s a little boxy, but the tailored bottom helps balance out the width and hits him just right at the top of his hips. Embry rolls the sleeves up just a little, turning in place. His smile makes him look young, like a kid again, as he beams. “This is so sick,” he laughs. 

“Looks good, Embry,” Paul agrees. “You did great, Mae. Really great.”

Those small graces come over and over again. When Maelyn nods in return to Paul’s praise, and the pack behind them gushes over the jacket, Maelyn prays for more good graces. The gem at her neck tugs, feels a bit heavier than previously. Each day it seems it gets a little bit heavier. She twists at the chain to alleviate the pressure. 

“Can I talk to you for a second?” 

The party’s wound down, most everyone gone already but Leah, Jacob, Maelyn, Paul, Sam, and Emily remain. Embry was escorted home by Jared, Kim, and Quil. Seth left with some leftovers for him, Leah, and Sue with the promise he’d finish some school work even though he begged to stay to help clean up. 

Jacob’s got the last trash bag in his hands and Maelyn dumps the last of the plates right as he poses the question. Maelyn nods, taking the plastic containers of the cake with her in her hands outside. They didn’t interact much during the party--aside from Jacob’s attempt to spare her from the plate Paul made for her. Jake spent most of his time with Quil and Embry. She wonders if her comments at the thrift shop are still stinging, if she could’ve said it any other way. 

“They’re getting married,” Jake confesses. 

“They as in? Bella and Edward?” Maelyn questions. 

Jake nods. They toss the remaining trash into the back of Sam’s truck. They’ll have to take it to the dump once they’re sure all the remaining trash has been collected. “Got the invitation this morning. But I don’t know. I’ve had a feeling for a while now.”

“I’m sorry.” The apology is easy to give. Because Maelyn is sorry. She didn’t want to be right. She doesn’t want Jacob to hurt too. She had her suspicions, had her hunches about how this would go. But she hoped that maybe she'd be wrong.

“And I guess,” Jacob sighs. “I guess when I was saying that I would stuff you into the Rabbit and run away, it was less about you. And it just feels like I’m being constantly tossed aside, or like I’m second fiddle.”

I don’t need saving, that’s what Maelyn said. But she hadn’t considered that Jacob was the one that needed her. That Jacob was asking for himself to be saved. She turns now, facing him head on and takes his face between her palms. “You matter. I didn’t mean to make you feel like you don’t. I was saying I didn’t want to drag you under. That you being there is more than enough to keep me afloat.”

His eyes water; she can see him blinking back the tears. “I feel like everything I touch falls apart.” Jacob’s voice shakes as he speaks. “Why is it that everything around me just keeps falling apart?”

There are no words. There’s nothing that Maelyn can say. Nothing she can do will make him feel whole. She knows that. She’s living that. But she presses harder. She wishes that just her touch could keep him together. “I’m so sorry, Jake. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t see it sooner.”

“No, it’s not your fault. You’ve got your own shit too. But I’m just so…angry and sad and confused. It just hurts,” he confesses. His arms wind around her waist and Maelyn pulls his head into her neck. 

If apologies were a healing salve, Jacob would be lathered in them. Maelyn whispers ‘I’m sorry’ like reciting prayers. She whispers them over and over and over again. Jacob shakes against her, his fists full of her shirt. Maelyn clings to him, the old black t-shirt thin against his frame. “I’m so sorry, Jacob. I’m so sorry.”

*************************

I think I need to clear my head. Everything hurts and I don’t know what to do anymore. I hate to say that you were right about Bella and I. That she would always choose Edward and that I’d always get my heart broken. 

But you were right about Bella and I. She would always choose Edward. I’d always get my heart broken. 

You don’t need to apologize. You don’t need to smother Billy about this either. 

I’ll be back. Eventually. 

Wear this too, while I’m gone. If you want. 

Maelyn flips the wooden ice cream cone over in her hands. The charm isn’t large. Just big enough that she can tell what it is and just large enough that his initials are on one side and hers on the other. The golden hook sparkles just a little under the kitchen light. The was folded and tucked inside the mailbox in a white envelope. Her name scrawled across the front of it. 

She takes in how his name is the only closing until she spots more black ink at the bottom of the page. 

P.S. If you don’t wear the charm, I’ll know and it’ll just make me sadder. So please, for me, wear it. 

Maelyn laughs and unhooks the chain. The amethyst crescent moon falls into her palm with a thud, i t echoes against the bones of her palms. 

“What happened to the moon?” her dad asks over their plate of stuffed shells. Maelyn worked the night before, the same night she got the letter from Jake, and when she returned home her father was already fast asleep in the recliner. She turned the TV off, draped a blanket over him and carried on to shower and get ready for bed. When Maelyn woke, he was already gone for work. Daryl motions to his own neck, but Maelyn knows what he’s referring to--now the ice cream cone rests in place of the crescent shaped gem. 

“In my room,” she answers. 

“Time for a change?”

Maelyn shrugs. “Something like that.”

Because she’s not sure how to say Jake asked her to wear it and the moon’s felt like a cinder block for the last week and a half now. Perhaps even longer if she really thought about it. How would she articulate the choking sensation in her sleep finally left her after switching? Would it even make sense to him? 

Maelyn thought about wearing both charms. Paul and Jacob would always be important to her. But something about the weight of the moon made her rethink the choice. When she held the gem in her hand, it felt more akin to lead. She’d kept the gem for nearly a month now after the break up. Maybe it was doing more harm than it was good. Or maybe that’s just the side effect of time and the gem has nothing to do with the way her life was going. 

“Change is good. Right? In this context?”

Maelyn laughs. “I guess time will tell.”