#really they’re beyond the point of friendship but baby steps

[aetherdecember]

Okay, this reversal AU idea is killing my Nanowrimo progress, so here, have this.

—-

Dream is quiet. Not that he isn’t usually quiet, but Hob can feel this quiet is the sort where he’s gathering words to speak. It’s just the two of them here (Dream having dismissed Jessamy beforehand) as they pass through the Dreaming. Hob thinks they’re heading to the Waking, but Dream hasn’t told him anything, so he waits for him to speak.

When he does, they’re standing on a road. It looks vaguely familiar, like all roads do when you’ve lived for several centuries, but it’s impossible to tell what era it’s supposed to be. The road is asphalt, but the roofs are thatched. There’s an early model car being drawn by a horse and he can see a peasant woman turning a goose on a spoke inside a modern oven.

“I owe you an answer.”

As if sensing the question Hob’s about to ask, the scene resolves itself into the inside of the White Horse Inn. Again, Hob can see traces of every era here, though it looks most like their last meeting.

Feathers fluttering with realization, Hob resettles his wings to keep composure. “Yeah, you do.”

Taking his seat at their table, Dream waits until Hob has flown off his shoulder before signaling for the bartender. His raven body doesn’t allow him sit like he used to, so Hob perches on the table, though becomes visibly dismayed when he realizes he won’t be able to enjoy the fine wine Dream orders. Human glasses aren’t designed with bird friendliness in mind.

The bartender dematerializes, probably to fulfill their order, and it’s just them again. No other patrons are here, but it sounds like they are. It too cycles through sounds from the various eras, Hob thinks he can even hear himself at some point, voice talking indistinctly, but he doesn’t hear Dream’s voice in these echoes. Shame, he loved hearing the low decibels of Dream’s voice.

“They’ve torn it down.” Dream’s eyes move lazily about the room, though he’s careful not to look at Hob. “There’s nothing left of this place in the Waking.”

“We were their most loyal patrons.” Hob’s comment is flippant, but his heart sinks. It had been the last tie to his roots. Dream had been the other, but until forcefully becoming one of his ravens, he’d only seen the guy once a century. It hadn’t been the same as knowing he could walk into the old pub anytime he wanted and feel like he was sharing space with the mortal he’d been before Dream had entered his life.

“Had it been standing, we’d be there now.”

It takes a beat for Hob to catch Dream’s meaning. Head swiveling sharply, he leans forward to catch Dream’s gaze, forcing him to look at him. “You were coming back?”

Dream tucks his hands into his pockets, narrow shoulders low, but holds the eye contact. “I hear it’s impolite to keep one’s friends waiting,” he replies quietly.

Hob’s grin is the slow and brilliant rising of the dawn. Unconsciously, he runs a finger along the base of the wineglass (must’ve been placed there when he wasn’t looking).

“Bit late, aren’t you?”

Abruptly, he realizes he’s no longer a raven. Like the appearance of the wineglass, Hob is suddenly human again, it’s his own finger touching where glass meets wood, his own mouth had moved when he spoke, and his body feels real and so present he could hug Dream. He almost does, but the sight of the clothes, something appropriate for humanity’s current age, something he’s never had a chance of wearing before, startles him into laughter.

“I was, wasn’t I?” Dream asks, gaze fathomless.

But Hob has lost track of the conversation. “You did this?” He gestures to the clothes, every piece as black as the formlessness Dream surrounds himself with, looking more appropriate for Dream to wear and not something Hob would’ve picked for himself.

“A little late, but yes.”

“So you’ve figured it out then?”

Dream is slow to reply, and it’s monosyllabic, but his answer carries clearly, tonelessly. “Yes.”

“How’d you do it? How’d you figure it out?” Hob asks eagerly.

But Dream’s gaze is ladened, endless nights hidden behind the thin pantomime of human eyes, and bears the weight of a truth he’s loath to disclose. “There’s no undoing it.”

“What?”

“This form is an illusion. You’re no more alive than I am a human. There’s no undoing what Death has caused.”

[spookyrobbins]

tbh having to co-parent sofia might be what would eventually break mark and callie's friendship. no matter what, i just don't see callie tolerating mark if he kept dismissing arizona as sofia's mom. also, when calzona have another baby and move out of the apartment, i think that would be the first time that callie realized that getting pregnant with mark was a mistake that would make the rest of her life a lot harder. not that she would regret sofia, she would never, but for the first time she'd understand arizona's point about lifelong compromises and christmas mornings with mark. she has to deal with childish jealous mark instead of just enjoying time with her wife, their daughter and the new baby. because honestly i think callie was pretty happy to be having mark's baby and was not thinking about what that meant long term.

completely agree about callie liking the idea of having a baby with mark in the short term, easy, happy baby stage, but i think increasingly there’d be some degree of regret on callie’s part. (although i do think in the back of her mind callie always had a touch of regret/doubt about things, not a huge amount but a trace of it)

mark for the most part is pretty stagnant. after probably season 5/6, he’s super settled in his life - his apartment, his sort of perpetual single hood bc of lexie, his support system in callie and derek. beyond bits of responsibility related to sofia, mark just doesn’t really develop (in large part bc he and lexie won’t ever get back together). but callie and arizona aren’t. they’re constantly taking steps forward together. and eventually they’d leave mark behind and it’d create a whole host of problems. and calzona having another baby would be probably the biggest step bc it really clearly defines that they’re a family without mark.

[retvenkos]

“would it be terribly cheesy if i said ‘it was always you’?”

requested by @biqherosix STRAP IN, FOLKS, BECAUSE TODAY WE ARE TAKING A LOOK AT WHAT IT WOULD BE LIKE FOR EJ CASWELL TO HAVE A CRUSH ON A NORTH HIGH STUDENT...

so first of all, you and ej knew each other long before you ran into each other in high school. because, you see, you went to junior high together, and in those days, both you and ej were on dance company 

(you can pry dance company! ej from my cold, dead fingers)

you were arguably the better dancer, and seventh grade ej really wanted to prove himself. a baby competition sprouted between the two of you, but it was nothing big.

you both liked to show off in order to taunt the other, and you both got a kick out of trying to one up each other.

but at the same time, you were teammates. you did everything together.

so the bond between you and ej was strong. it was a competition, yes, but it was friendly competition and you both actually hyped each other a lot. 

plus, dance company does a lot of things as a group, so it was unavoidable. you were going to end up liking each other at some point. luckily, it happened sooner rather than later, and the two of you built up a nice rapport with one another - a closeness forged in friendly competition and last minute studying parties.

but all that changed when you went to north high and ej went to east high

now, since north high is completely fictional, i get to create the dynamic between the schools, so listen up everyone!

north high clearly has the better arts department, and they also have the better tennis and softball team.

east high has the better stem department as well as a better swim team and any other swim related sports.

west high has the better sport teams overall - basketball, football, volleyball, etc.

(that's why we never see any uber jocks at east high—)

now, clearly you have your boundary school, but people get on special permit all the time, and when you say you’re going to north high ej is like ???? but why ???

“they have a better arts department, ej, you know that!”

“well, yeah, but east high is the best. we always said we were going to be wildcats!”

“ej.... they’re actually leopards.”

it wasn’t a super emotional goodbye. you promised to stay in touch, and it wasn’t like it was hard. you still saw each other around the mall, you still followed each other on instagram and what not but.... time just got between you.

you slowly stop texting, you see each other less, when you see each other in public you do that thing where you give a smile but then don’t go over to say hi, because you’re wrapped up in other people. it’s not pointed things, you just... stop talking.

and you still like each others photos on instagram but you’re just... there. 

all of that changes, however, when carlos asks you to help him choreograph hsm.

at the time, the rivalry between schools wasn’t big, it was just a low simmer, and the reason carlos approached you was because once upon a time, you, ej, and him had all been in dance company together for one (1) year (it all comes full cIRCLE) and for one of your performances, you had done something hsm related.

carlos wanted to know if you remembered the routine and could help him come up with something slightly more advanced.

and while you and carlos hadn’t really kept up with one another, he jokingly brought up a time where he did something for you, and how you always said you’d pay him back one day and maybe now it was time to cash it in??

you decided why not? you’ve done a lot of stuff for north high’s dance company, but you’ve never helped out in a musical before (and as you can imagine, north high is very competitive in their arts)

so you joined the hsm cast as co-choreographer.

now, because you had your own north high dance company stuff to deal with, you end up missing a lot of rehearsals. you mostly brainstorm with carlos and add tweaks to the choreo. carlos is the one to really ~teach~ things.

which means that while you are present for ~the drama~ that was ej-nini-ricky, you actually miss a lot of it. you feel the tension, but exactly why it’s Like That is beyond you.

you tried to ask carlos once but he said he wasn’t going to get into that, thank you.

and honestly, you have competitions to keep up with, so you’re not fixated on it. you’re just hoping that they’re not still pissed at each other on opening night, when ej has to strap ricky in for “getcha head in the game”

and while you’ve chatted with ej a couple of times, you haven’t had much time to catch up.

you actually bond a lot with gina, who is on the same level as you in terms of dance. you end up talking and mention how ej was once on dance company, and that rocks her world because ej???

and that’s when you show her all of the old videos you archived on your instagram from your junior high days. carlos, ej, and you all in dance company. they’re precious.

and when ej’s friendships are strained and he doesn’t have anyone to turn to, he sees you and gina laughing and crowding over your phone, and he comes to say hi.

and thus, the friendship begins again.

it is, of course, slow going because so much time has come between you, and gina and carlos (the two you hang with the most) are not on great terms with ej, but you guys grow really close all over again. ej is glad to have another senior to talk to about college, and you’re glad you have an old friend to talk to because it’s easy to feel out of place in this school that isn’t yours.

and on opening night, you know ej gifts you something - maybe it’s a jacket or beanie with the wildcats emblem on it.

“it’s kinda stupid, but we always said we were going to be wildcats together, and we did it.”

“huh, i guess we did.”

and for some reason, you chest is really warm, and you can feel the heat sneak up to your cheeks.

“this is really sweet, ej.”

“well, you know me.”

“yeah, i guess i do.”

and then it’s his cue to get ready to go on stage.

“oh! and there should be another surprise coming, don’t hate me for not telling you!”

and you’re ??? but it turns out to be gina.

you all clearly go to denny's afterward to celebrate, and if ej feels his heart seize in his chest everytime you laugh or steal one of gina’s fries, it’s not an unfamiliar feeling. because really, it had always been like that, with you. you never cease to amaze him.

and once you’re on the east high theatre group chat, you never get taken off of it, so you know everything that’s going on with your theatre buddies, after hsm has finished.

and this is where a conflict of interest really comes in...

because, you see, once hsm is a hit, some of the theatre kids at north high think you’re a traitor. you gave east high their secrets, and now east high is an actual contender. uncool, (y/n).

so you kind of get iced out by a lot of north high kids. like i said. competition there is  s t e e p  and you’ve been accused of fraternizing with the enemy..

but when zach roy shows up and he hears about the drama surrounding one (y/n) (l/n), he gets an idea... so he approaches you one day after dance company practice...

“he asked you to do wHAT?”

you’re texting ej, carlos, and gina in a group chat

“he asked me to co-choreograph their show.”

“are you going to do it?” - carlos

“of course they are! do you think opportunities like this just fall out of the sky?” - gina

“i don’t know, though, i feel like he’s working some angle with me. there’s something about him that doesn’t feel genuine.”

“it’s those piercing blue eyes.” - carlos

“i have piercing blue eyes!”

“and you’ve never done anything underhanded?” - gina

“we did that together!”

“what should i do?”

“accept, clearly!” - gina

“i’d be careful, if i were you. miss jenn doesn’t trust him for a reason.” - carlos

“it’s up to you, (y/n). you’ll do great, and it’s a great opportunity.”

“but?”

and everyone can feel the pause - the conflict where ej doesn’t know what to say.

“but nothing! this is a HUGE opportunity! he’s dancer extraordinaire derek hough zach roy! i’d be the villain of your eventual documentary if i were to try to hold you back.”

“okay... i think i’ll do it. you know how competitive things are, here. this could really give me a boost.”

“hell yeah, (y/n)!” - gina

“spy on their production for us?” - carlos

“anything for you <3″

i imagine you clash a lot with lily, but you actually become really good friends with howie and antoine. but that’s beside the point.

and while things are on good terms at first, your bond with your wildcats stays strong, and you’re carving out a place in north high rehearsals, lily is quick to find out that you’re on the east high group chat.

and because this is hsmtmts, i get to have some fun with this premise.

lily gets some kind of tech nerd on her side, and she gets him to make it so that somehow, the text that you get from the theatre group also send to her phone, for maximum stalking of the competition. that’s how she always gets one step ahead of east high.

and as north high seemingly continues to have insider info on east high, someone suspects there’s a leak.... which leads to you. who else has access to north high? so they send a fake text and wait to see if north high takes the bait.

they do. so now east high thinks it’s you.

but at this same time, you keep noticing that suspiciously, whenever you get a text from east high theatre department, lily’s phone goes off to. literally at the same moment, you’re doing your own test to see if somehow she hacked your phone.

(you had your suspicions because lily is actually terribly bad at hiding her hand and constantly makes remarks that make you Think™.)

you confirm lily to have hacked your phone, and so you go old school and show up to east high, hoping to tell them what happened and find some fix (since east high is the mother of all tech schools in this universe.)

but when you walk into the auditorium, the cast is being really passive aggressive toward you? and you’re so confused? what happened?

of course, ricky is the only to confront you because these days, it seems like he’s always one (1) moment away from blowing up.

and you explain that you were played just as much as they were - it was never your intention to betray them. east high is your family.

“oh, yeah? i’ve never known an east high leopard to go to north high.”

and so now we’re in shambles! we’re divided! 

you leave, upset, and ej catches you in the hall. he tries to explain that ricky’s been on one, recently, that none of his anger was really meant for you, and that he believes you - truly. he knows you’re the last person to ever betray them. you’re not like that. that’s more him than it is you.

and you just give him the world’s biggest  h u g .

now you’re probably wondering why i insisted on this particular plot line, but let me tell you - ej never really understood completely what a complete breach of trust it was for him to steak nini’s phone and violate her privacy like that. now he can see how deeply it affects you - how it can really ruin people in ways you never intend. it’s about the learning curve.

anyway, it takes you a while to build up trust with east high again, but you say “hey, why don’t you guys continue to send false leads to this group chat? make another for yourselves, and continue to spread misinformation to me.

ej is like... do you really want to sabotage your own show? but you tell him something along the lines of “our show is still going to have superior choreography, lily is just going to waste her time doing pointless side missions. it has nothing to do with the quality of my work.”

and ej loves this competitive and devious side of you so much. but he’s also deathly terrified of telling you how much he cares about you, because he always manages to screw things up.

and gina finds hilariously endearing because of all people to be self conscious... ej caswell? the ej caswell? she would be his hype woman if she wasn’t so busy finding this all too Good to be true.

eventually, lily will find out, but when she confronts you and threatens to tell the cast that you’re the reason they’re so behind in their production, you tell her that to do that, she’d have to confess to stealing your phone, hacking into it, and using it to spy on you which breaks like 23 different school rules. but sure! tell everyone! you’d love to see how the principal reacts when you film it and show it to them on monday.

(this is getting really long, let me see if i can wrap it up, quick)

clearly, ej is an Idiot when he’s in love, and even though he’s deathly afraid of telling you his feelings, that doesn’t stop him from expressing them.

both of you are in your respective musicals, and your rehearsal schedules align really nicely, so a lot of the time, ej will drive up to north high afterward so he can give you a ride home. (you don’t have a car, okay?) you guys always stop to get fast food or a drink at starbucks or something, and you have little “dates” where ej parks the car and the two of you eat in his car, just chatting about your day.

or on weekends, you and ej go and drive up to the state college that ej was admitted to, and you walk around campus, trying to envision him there. and if you’re also going to a school nearby, you do the same for you. (bonus points if you’re going to the same college, so you walk around and pick out the places where you’ll chill together.)

and if these little excursions of yours are the highlight of your week, and all you want to do is hold ej’s hand forever, singing in the car with the windows down and driving into the sunset... well, you just hope that ej wants the same.

and since ej is in av club, and he’s really trying to dig in and figure out what his story is, he’s always got a camera of some kind out, and some of his best work, he swears, are pictures and videos of you.

anyway, at some point, you confess to ej that you have a crush on him (howie probably pushed you to do it because he was tired of seeing you pine).

it’s a weekend and the two of you are procrastinating on your respective school assignments (study sessions being interrupted with senioritis? sounds about right) so instead you’re just sitting on the floor, staring at the ceiling, talking about whatever. and i think it just slips out, and when you realize what you’ve said, you’re vvv embarrassed, and you don’t even want to look at see how ej reacts, but he calls your name and you turn to him, a deadly mixture of dread and hope rooted in your stomach and shaking you to your core, but ej is smiling and in his eyes is something brighter than the sun, and when he tells you he’s feels the same, it’s like that dread in your stomach blooms into pure joy and when he tells you he’s had a crush on you since you were eighth graders and you were a better dancer than him, you can’t help but laugh until all of that warmth in your stomach has escaped into the air and hangs around the two of you like low hanging stars - so close, you can reach out and touch them.

anyway, cue lots of sneaking around north high - not because it’s a secret but because it’s fun hiding in the back of the auditorium and sneaking into the empty dance room.

cue cheering for each other at the menkies and congratulating each other when east high gets best musical, and north high gets best choreography (amongst others).

cue going to denny’s to celebrate and laughing until your sides hurt, stealing each other’s fries, and holding hands under the table.

(also... ej 100% would kiss your fingers when your hands are intertwined and that’s truly a blessing)

cue going to pool parties together for no other reason than i want all of the east high kids to do an impromptu rendition of “all for one” and ej gets to hit ricky with one of those blow up beach balls “for revenge” on the basketball moment in season 1.

plus, a pool party would do wonders for destressing, don’t lie.

AND FLUFF ENSUES.

taglist: @maybanksslut, @theletterhart, @brokenandheadoverheels, @neelia-thedaughtherof-athena @kitsdeadwife, @amortensie // add yourself to the taglist here!

[writinglizards]

someone wanted us to kiss for a picture and i thought you were gonna stage kiss me w/ your thumbs in the middle buT NO OH MY GOD THATS……………..THATS A REAL KISS WOW OK au -- another writing prompt I lost the link to 💖

Okay, so this got WAY out of hand, but here you go! <3

Title: A Portrait of the Artist in Love

Summary:  Jaskier's senior exhibition requires he present a sequence of cohesive photos representing a theme of his choosing. Geralt, after seeing the photos in person, notices one's missing.

Read on Ao3

"So what's the matter?" Geralt finally asks when Jaskier stomps through the living room for the third time in under twenty minutes, his eyes still firmly trained on the tv set. He can't look like he cares too much or Jaskier will shut down on him, he knows.

"What's the matter is I've got my senior exhibition in two months and I still haven't settled on a fucking theme, that's the matter," he bites out, back to the sofa and hands threaded firmly through his hair, tugging hard.

Geralt sighs. All of Jaskier's problems seem to circle back to his senior exhibition. "I thought you had some photos?"

"I did," he says, tone venomous, "and then Valdo decided he was going to do a series on music and I refuse to compete with that pompous arse." Geralt bites his tongue against the 'why does what Valdo's doing matter?' He knows better.

"So? What are your ideas?" Jaskier shifts as if to speak, "and don't tell me you don't have any, I know you do." He clicks the tv off and shifts around to face Jaskier's back as he sighs, shoulders going slack.

"I want to do something personal," he says, and Geralt can hear the frustration in his voice, "something important. Not--" he can picture the way his face is scrunched up just from his tone, "--not something predictable, something trite. I want to do something meaningful."

"Okay. So make it personal. What's important to you, Jaskier?" he asks, voice soft, and watches as Jaskier's shoulders gradually go taunt again.

"Oh. Oh I could--" he cuts off, whirls around, and the nearly manic light in his eyes makes Geralt smile.

"There you go," he says, and Jaskier beams. The look on his face steals Geralt’s breath, tightens his chest. Jaskier crosses the room, headed for his bedroom slash photo studio and presumably his camera, but he pauses at the couch to squeeze Geralt's shoulder tightly.

"Thank you, darling." Geralt just rolls his eyes and clicks the tv back on.

* * * *

Jaskier never does share what idea he settled on, even after Geralt had asked, a few days later. He'd ducked his head, blushing, and told Geralt not to worry about it, it was fine, he'd get to see when it was done, and Geralt had let it go. Jaskier tends to hold his projects close to his chest until he's done with them anyway. It’s not personal.

They're seated at a cafe waiting for Yen to drop off Ciri for their afternoon trip to the zoo and Jaskier is, predicably, fiddling with his camera.

"Do you have to bring that everywhere?" he asks, tone light and teasing, and Jaskier only sticks his tongue out at him.

"Yes, you oaf, I do. I'm working," he snips, and then he lifts the camera and in a quick movement snaps a picture of Geralt's face.

"Jaskier."

"Just a test photo, love," he grins, not at all apologetic. Before Geralt can pitch anything close to a fit about Jaskier taking more photos of him (and out in public, no less), Yen and Ciri are stepping through the door. Ciri gives a delighted little shriek the way only children under five seem to do and throws herself at her father. Geralt catches her around the waist and hauls her into his lap, both of them laughing, and the photo is promptly forgotten about after that.

* * * *

"Can I come with you?"

"Why?" Geralt asks again, frowning at Jaskier where he stands next to their couch, shifting nervously with his camera clutched to his chest, "you don't like the barn."

"No, but I like Roach," he insists, "and I want to get some pictures of her. I haven't in a while." Geralt narrows his eyes.

"Is this about your project?" he asks, and the way Jaskier splutters is answer enough.

"Can't I just want to take nice photos of my best friend's lovely horse? Come on Geralt, I don't always have a reason." The color high on his cheeks says otherwise.

"Hm." He hefts his supply bag over his shoulder, "come on, then."

Jaskier practically beams the entire trip to the barn, even after he nearly slips in a spot of mud when they get there. His pure, simple joy is infectious, leaves Geralt grinning right alongside him. And if Jaskier takes pictures of him the entire time? Well, he's always taking pictures anyway.

* * * *

"Jask, my guy, must you always bring that stupid camera?" Lambert asks, "it's beer night," he says, as if beer should preclude Jaskier taking pictures.

"Yes, and? Your point?" He raises the camera to snap a blatant picture of Lambert. Aiden leans over to throw up a pair of bunny ears behind his boyfriend as if they're primary schoolers. Eskel laughs.

"Jaskier's exhibition's coming up, leave off," Geralt growls, reprimanding, and Jaskier grins all the brighter.

"Yes, thank you, darling!"

"Doesn't mean he needs to take pictures of us," Lambert grouches, but Aiden wraps his arm around his neck and pulls him into a gentle headlock.

"Be nice," Aiden admonishes, and Lambert grumbles, but subsides. After enough alcohol, no one really thinks about Jaskier's pictures.

* * * *

Catching Jaskier around their apartment snapping photos isn't strictly unusual. It's not even strictly unusual for Jaskier to be snapping photos of him, but--

"Must you take pictures while I'm trying to meditate?"

"Yeah," Jaskier answers, sunny and quick. Geralt gives a huff. The camera clicks again. "Just pretend I'm not here." Geralt hums an affirmative even though he knows it's an impossible task. He could never forget Jaskier was in a room with him.

* * * *

"Didn't know you were picking me up today," Geralt says, wandering over from his post by the medieval art exhibit to where Jaskier stands near the circulation desk, fiddling with his camera.

"Oh, well, you know," he grins brightly up at him, cheeks a little pink--maybe he's getting sick, "I was in the area and thought we could walk home together. I know you’ve got a little still but I can swing by Starbucks; I'll get you that fruity tea you like."

"Hm."

When he gets off his shift forty-five minutes later, Jaskier's waiting for him out front with the Starbucks already in hand, a radiant smile on his face, and Geralt’s chest clenches just looking at him.

* * * *

"Hey, so I know you're busy--" Jaskier starts over dinner one night, eyes focused down on his pasta, "and I don't know if you wanted to come or not, but the exhibition's next week and I--" he sneaks a glance up at Geralt from under his eyelashes, ducks his head, "--I'd like for you to be there."

Geralt can't help the smile that tugs at his lips, can't help the way affection swells in his chest. "Of course I'll go, Jask." It really is as simple as that.

* * * *

Geralt arrives in the midst of the opening hubbub. He knows Jaskier has to linger around his exhibit for at least the first hour or so and from what he understands it's tucked away somewhere toward the back, so Geralt takes a leisurely path in that general direction, stopping to look at the work Jaskier's classmates have done as he goes.

"Oh, Geralt!" Valdo's grinning as he waves him over and reluctantly he lets himself be lured in. "Good to see you here, my man. Jaskier's been a basketcase all day," he winks. Geralt rolls his eyes.

"I'm sure. Your work's good," he says, nodding back towards the row of photos behind them, all different instruments either alone or being played, the close up of hands on strings and keys.

"Don't let Jask hear you say that," he laughs, even as he preens at the praise. "And don't let him catch you over here, either. He'll be accusing infidelity in a heartbeat." Valdo winks again. Geralt doesn't even go to the effort of correcting the fact they're not together. Valdo never seems to remember anyway.

"Yeah. Have a good night, Valdo," he says before ducking out of the way of a shorter blonde woman who throws herself past him and into Valdo's arms, proclaiming her love for him and his photography. Another blonde follows behind her friend, smiling. Geralt hurries away before Priscilla and Essi can realize who Valdo had been talking to and rope him back into the conversation.

It's not that he dislikes Jaskier's friends it's just...they seem to assume things about the two of them. Yes, Geralt loves Jaskier, but Jaskier…he doesn’t know what Jaskier feels for him beyond a deep friendship.

He wanders a bit while he tries not to think about that, stopping to look at some of the other photos--landscapes, pets, significant others, children--until he spots Jaskier, all done up in the suit he'd picked out for the occasion months ago, the gold tie that Geralt had done for him this morning a beautiful contrast to the baby blue of his suit. And the pictures--

Geralt's breath catches. They're all of him; a photo of Geralt and Ciri from the zoo, Ciri seated on his shoulders, one tiny fist in his hair as she gestures wildly at the monkeys. Geralt astride Roach as he puts her through her paces at the barn, and later, Roach out in the pasture, Geralt leading her in a gentle cool down, the both of them in profile. Geralt and his brothers over beers, Geralt grinning, Eskel telling a story, hands spread wide, Lambert and Aiden leaning on each other across the table, smiles indulgent. Geralt meditating in their living room, the ghost of a smile on his face. Geralt at the museum, explaining the history of medieval art to a gaggle of tourists.

They're all him.

"Oh, thank fuck, Geralt, I--" Jaskier breaks off as he gets closer, takes in Geralt's expression, "Geralt?"

His mouth is dry and he has to clear his throat twice before he can get any words to work. "They're all of...me?" Jaskier flushes immediately.

"Well I mean--yes? I wanted it to be something important and personal and, uh, what's more personal than everything my best friend loves?" he explains rapidly, as if he's worried Geralt will cut him off, not let him explain.

"Oh," he says, because it's the only thing he can get out. And then as it dawns on him, "wait, if this is about--" he has to clear his throat again, uncharacteristically embarrassed, "--about what I love...why aren't you in any of them?"

"What, I--" Jaskier chokes off, that flush going a little darker, "I, I didn't--we weren't allowed to be the subjects of our own photos," he lies, and Geralt just raises a brow. He's seen his classmate's work--he knows it's a bullshit answer and Jaskier knows he knows.

"I didn't want to presume," he mumbles, then, a little firmer, "and it would have had to been staged. "I don't--staged photos are terrible, Geralt, you know how I feel about that." He does, but it doesn't change the fact Jaskier's collection is incomplete without him.

"Hm."

* * * *

He thinks about it for the rest of the exhibition and once he starts, it's like he can't stop. Jaskier has a collection of photos of things Geralt loves, and Jaskier's not in any of them.

It takes him almost a week to set it right.

"Geralt," Jaskier calls as the front door clicks open, Jaskier home from class. "Geralt darling, I'm famished, what--" he cuts off abruptly when he steps into the living room, gaze catching on the camera set on the tripod set up on the coffee table. Geralt stands in front of the lens, between the camera and the large bay window overlooking the distant park.

"Jaskier." Geralt's a little bit of a nervous wreck about it, but it's fine. Probably. After all, Jaskier spent months taking photos of Geralt and the things he loved. What's one more?

"Geralt, what--"

"Come here." Jaskier swallows roughly, adams apple bobbing, before he puts his bag down and steps up beside him. "Check the camera," Geralt says softly, "make sure I did it right."

Jaskier does, quick. "It's set on the ten second timer. Should I--?"

"Yeah," he says, stomach clenching in some horrible mix of fear and anticipation, "and come here."

"Geralt, if you'd wanted to take a picture together, I could have--" he says, setting the camera and starting over. He cuts off abruptly when Geralt loops an arm around his waist and tugs him in close until they're chest to chest, his other hand at Jaskier's jaw, thumb sweeping back and forth across his cheek.

"I know," he says, voice pitched low, "but you're missing a picture." And then he dips his head and kisses him.

Jaskier makes a small, wounded noise and then his arms are around Geralt's neck, fingers tight in his hair as he presses up into Geralt's grip, surges against him. Geralt cups his jaw and nips at his lower lip, revels in the quiet gasp that leaves Jaskier open for him to lick into his mouth, deepen the kiss. Distantly he's aware of the camera going off, but it's inconsequential to the way Jaskier feels in his arms.

The kiss only breaks when Jaskier pulls away to hide his face in Geralt's throat, gasping for air. Geralt chuckles, a little breathless.

"Now I'm not complaining," Jaskier says, sounding a little dazed, "but what did I do to deserve that? Because I'd like to keep doing it. Repeatedly, if possible." Geralt laughs.

"You were missing a picture," Geralt says again, and the look on Jaskier's face when he pulls back is so confused it makes his chest constrict. "The things I love," Geralt reminds, and Jaskier flushes bright red.

"Geralt--" he stammers out, flustered, before he returns to hiding his face in Geralt's shoulder. "Melitele help me," He presses his lips to the fabric of Geralt's shirt, a warm, fleeting pressure, "you really are going to be the death of me."

"Don't see how," he hums, tips his head to rest his cheek against Jaskier's head.

"Thought you wanted a friendly picture and then you just--! You just wrapped your arm around my waist like you've done it a hundred times before and I thought, oh, he's going to pretend to kiss me, for the photo, because of course you would and you, you just--" he makes a tiny, outraged noise. Geralt chuckles again. "Don't laugh at me, Geralt, I almost died."

"Mmhm," he rubs his cheek where it rests, mussing Jaskier's hair. Jaskier just huffs. "How'd the picture come out?"

Reluctantly, Jaskier peels himself away to check the photo, and Geralt can already tell from the face he's making it didn't come out well. "You moved," Jaskier admonishes, eyes glued to the tiny viewer. He fiddles with a few settings before putting it back down on the tripod. "Alright," he presses his way back into Geralt's arms, "we'll just have to try again."

"Yeah," Geralt grins, and he kisses him again.

[jonsa101]

Max Goodwin and Randall Pearson: The Well-Meaning, Incredibly Self-Centered Leading Men We’ve Grown to Love.

Hey fam! Like I said, I’ve been writing a ton of meta lately and this is another one that’s just been sitting in my drafts. It’s basically a This Is Us and a New Amsterdam meta which is something I haven’t done before but something I want do more of. In my Game of Thrones days I used to write a lot of meta about shows and characters that had similarities so this is fun for me. I hope y’all enjoy this. ALSO THIS HAS SPOILERS FOR BOTH SHOWS!!!!!!!

Without a doubt the two most popular shows on NBC is This is Us and New Amsterdam. And what’s not to love? They’re both emotionally driven, heartfelt, shows that focus on incredibly deep and complex topics. Though one show focuses on family dynamics and the other focuses on the healthcare system, these shows are very similar in more ways than one. Case in point, Max Goodwin and Randall Pearson. The more I watch these two shows, the more I realize how these two characters are so alike!!! These two men are kind-hearted, well intentioned, individuals who genuinely want to make some sort of positive difference. They are incredibly ambitious and always have “bright ideas” and “goals” they want to accomplish and somehow they’re able to meet those goals without ever having to sacrifice their wants and needs. By every definition these men are the “main characters” or the ultimate “protagonists.” These are the folks that we are supposed to root for. At the same time, though these men have many traits to be admired, when you truly look at it both of them can be incredibly self centered and selfish especially when it pertains to their romantic partners and love interests. No matter how appealing you make these characters out to be these men clearly fall under the Behind Every Great Man trope.

The Behind Every Great Man trope has been used countless of times throughout Cinema and TV History that I’m sure that I don’t even have to explain it to you but for the sake of this meta this is how it’s defined.

“Behind Every Great Man...stands an even greater woman! Or in about a hundred variations is a Stock Phrase referring to how people rarely achieve greatness without support structures that go generally unappreciated, and said support structure is a traditionally female role via being the wife, mother, or sometimes another relation. This trope is specifically about a man who is credited with something important, but owes much of his success to the woman in his life.”

This trope usually has a negative connotation (and rightfully so) because the man who often benefits from this is an asshole and unworthy of this type of support!

For example:

Oliva and Fitz

Cristina Yang and Burke

Cookie and Lucious

Ghost and Tasha

There are countless others but these are a few of the couples that come to mind for me. Randall and Max aren’t comparable to any of these men that are listed above but they are still operating under the same trope. It just looks nicer because Max and Randall are inherently good and inspirational. They are the heroes of the story. I would even argue and say that both men fall under the Chronic Hero Syndrome trope which is defined as

“Chronic Hero Syndrome is an "affliction" of cleaner heroes where for them, every wrong within earshot must be righted, and everyone in need must be helped, preferably by Our Hero themself. While certainly admirable, this may have a few negative side-effects on the hero and those around them. Such heroes could wear themselves out in their attempts to help everyone or become distraught and blame themselves for the one time that they're unable to save the day. Spending so much time and effort saving everyone else can also put a strain on the hero's personal or dating life.”

Just because Max and Randall have these incredibly inspiring aspirations, is it fair that their wives and love interests are always expected to rise to the occasion and support them. Is it ok for their partners to continuously sacrifice their wants and needs because they love these men? 

Let’s dive into it. 

Truth be told, Beth Pearson, Helen Sharpe and Georgia Goodwin had to endure a GREAT DEAL to emotionally support the dreams and aspirations of these men while sacrificing so much of themselves in the process. In media we often see women sacrificing so much of their wants and needs out of love for these male leads and rarely do men do the same thing for their romantic partners and love interests. All three of these women clearly fall under the Act of True Love trope defined as

“The Act of True Love proves beyond doubt that you are ready to put your loved one's interests before your own, that you are truly loyal and devoted to them. Usually this involves a sacrifice on your part, at the very least a considerable effort and/or a great risk. The action must be motivated, not by morals or principle or expectation of future reward, but by sheer personal affection.When your beloved is in dire need of your help, or in great danger, and you do something, at great expense to yourself, for the sake of their safety, their welfare, or their happiness, thus proving beyond any doubt that you put their interest ahead of yours.”

Over the past few seasons we have seen all three of these women truly live up to this trope without any true consequences or accountability from the men they’re making all these sacrifices for. For example, in Beth and Randall’s marriage, how many times did Randall spring an idea on Beth without truly talking to her or considering her wants first? Everyone thinks these two are an ideal couple but she has endured A LOT for Randall.

Randall has spontaneously quit his job, moved his dying biological dad into their home, bought his biological dad’s old apartment building, fostered and adopted a child and also ran for city councilman outside of his district. In all of these decisions, Randall “consulted” Beth about it but at the same time didn’t really consult her. In a way there has always been this expectation of Beth to just go along for the ride with what Randall wants. Is anyone else exhausted from reading that list?! That’s a lot for partner to endure and lovingly support. But Beth has endured and has been Randall’s rock through it all!!! What worries me is that the one time Beth spoke out about her wants and needs of pursuing dance again, he couldn’t match the same energy she was giving him and eventually it led to world war three between them. Though things are looking up in their relationship  and he’s starting to support her more, has Randall nearly given to Beth as much as she’s given to him? Absolutely not!

Similar to Randall, Max also had a wife who was a dancer. in fact, she was a prima ballerina. Unlike Randall and Beth, Max relationship with Georgia was rocky from the start. When we were first introduced to them Max and Georgia were separated and rightfully so. Georgia was never Max’s first priority. The hospital always came first in their relationship. He couldn’t even dedicate a full night to her for their proposal. In order to “save” their marriage they decide to have a baby and they both committed to taking a step back in their careers in order to do so. The problem was Max didn’t keep his side of their commitment and took a job to become the medical director at the biggest public hospital in the U.S. She gave up her career to start a family and he totally and completely betrayed her trust. So throughout season one we see them trying to rebuild their marriage but even in the midst of trying to rebuild a marriage based on trust and mutual respect Max still keeps things from Georgia. For several episodes he didn’t tell her that he had advance stages of throat cancer. He only told her when Georgia asked him to move back home. That’s fucked up! Then throughout their pregnancy he was never fully there for Georgia because he was either to preoccupied with the hospital or himself. At the end of it all, Georgia died tragically at the beginning of season two and really had nothing to show for it in her relationship with Max other than her daughter Luna.

Now let’s bring Helen Sharpe into the fold. While all of this stuff was going on with Max and his wife in season one, Max was developing a deep friendship, borderline emotional affair with Helen. Their relationship started out with Helen being his oncologist. As the new Medical Director of New Amsterdam, he swore Helen to secrecy about his diagnosis so that he could still run the hospital. Through that secrecy they eventually formed a deep bond but as his cancer got worse his secret was let out of the bag. He realistically needed someone to step up and run the hospital when he was going through chemo and though Helen already had commitments she stepped up and became his deputy medical director. Somewhere along the lines Max and Helen started developing feelings for each other. As Helen becomes aware of those feelings, she made a choice and decides to remove herself as Max’s doctor. He BITCHES about it but eventually accepts the boundary she’s clearly trying to set. Mind you, as this is unfolding, like Max, Helen is also in a new relationship with her boyfriend Panthaki. As Max’s cancer seems to be getting worse with his new doctor, she goes back on her boundary and decides to be his doctor again. This pisses her boyfriend off because he could already peep the vibe between them and he breaks up with her. When we get into season two, Max’s wife died and Helen set him up in a clinical trail (with a doctor she previously fired) that’s helping his cancer.  Unbeknownst to Max, this doctor ends up holding his life saving treatment plan over Helen’s head and in order for his treatment to continue she gives this doctor half of her department!

Helen has sacrificed a lot for Max and now in season three she’s finally prioritizing her current wants and needs first! Like Randall, Max is starting to turn a page and is starting to support Helen and truly listen to the wants and needs that she has. All of this is good but my question is did any of these women have to sacrifice so much for the men in their lives to get a clue?

Why is it that this is a trope we see in media time and time and time again? Even if these men are good, why don’t we still keep these male characters accountable when they put their significant others in these situations that are clearly not fair? I’ve watched countless tv shows and I’ve seen a lot of tv couples but I think I have only come across one couple where the male counterpart has selflessly loved his significant other and has always put her needs above his own. 

That character my friend is none other than PACEY WITTER

I might be mistaken but I think Joey and Pacey are the most popular ship in tv history and honestly, rightfully so! This is only example I can think of where the male in the relationship so willingly puts the wants and needs of his partner first. It is a completely selfless and sacrificial love. He never wants to hold her back and he never asks her to compromise her wants or needs for him. That’s why I think so many women love Pacey because in a sea of TV relationships, Pacey Witter is a fucking unicorn.

So to wrap this up does this mean that I hate Randall Pearson or Max Goodwin? No! I adore them. I love both of their characters so much. I just think that when we see the media continuously play out the sacrificial wife/love interest for the sake of their male counterparts, it should be called out. I’m all about sacrificial and selfless love but it should come from both sides.❤️❤️❤️

Anyway I hope y’all enjoy this! As always my DMs are opening here or on Twitter @oyindaodewale

[yniswaifu]

The bet - 5

Your eyes are glued to your phone screen, millions thoughts running through your head.

Will you see us off before we leave for the game?

Even if the message from Suna, whom you had been very close to these past days following the incident, it still didn't change the fact that he was part of the volleyball team.

The team that also had Osamu, your (ex) boyfriend.

It had taken everything in you to not jump in his arms when you saw him at the practice the other day. You had completely forgotten that there was a chance you'd encounter Osamu when you went to deliver Ginjima something your mom sent.

And boy did you regret going there.

Maybe deep down you had wished he wasn't. And that he got a plastic surgery to change his face or something, since you weren't sure what you'd do if you saw him. So when his deep voice echoed through the gym calling for Suna, your eyes instinctively connected with Osamu's face and you were thinking just why it had to be this way.

He was still the same as you remembered him. Except, his eyes looked hollow. You were observant, and you knew he wasn't doing any better than you, but you still was a wuss to confront him.

Loser of the year award goes to y/n.

Looking at the text again, you breathe out and reply with a yes. The circumstances were against you, but you could still meet your friend and cousin before they go for the game, even if Osamu would be there.

You'd be in and out in a flash.

Determined to avoid Osamu, you shut your phone to retire for the day when it pings again. And the text is from someone you least expected.

Can we talk?

***

You don't what went in her head, when f/n came all the way to your house to talk about something in the middle of the night. Even though you two belonged to the same neighbourhood, it was weird and dangerous for her to be walking around alone.

"you could have spoken to me in school tomorrow as well." you say, frowning. Somehow you always had a protective streak towards f/n.

F/n blinks up at you, her lips on the straight line. "but...it was urgent."

"so urgent you had to come all the way here in the middle of the night?"

Rolling her eyes, she lets out an impatient sigh. "yes. And it's only 10pm. Now listen."

Taken aback by her tone, you stared at the girl in front of you. The air around her had a slight change. She still looked sweet and kind, but that also held a firmness that wasn't present earlier. Did something happen?

F/n searched your eyes for something, but you just kept quiet and looked at her. You were extremely confused by this sudden meeting and became more confused by her next words.

"I want to be friends with you."

Huh?

For a few seconds you weren't sure what you heard. She wants...to be friends? What?

"I'm sorry?" you say aloud, trying to comprehend what's happening.

F/n fiddled with her hands and looked away. "you heard me?" she mumbled.

"yeah. Yeah I did. But I don't understand. Why?"

Giving you a side glance, f/n sighed again. "because I think you're really cool."

You were beyond confused at this point. You were one of the reasons f/n had a shitty love life, and here she's standing and asking you to be friends again?

"But–"

"I know." she cuts you off. "I know what you did. What you all did. And I pray no one has to go through it." taking a step towards you, she holds your hands. "but these past few days I've been thinking, and watching how you're trying to take all the blame on your shoulders. You were the one who told me the truth, when you could have hidden it forever. You could have blamed Ginjima for being part of the scheme too but you went out of your way to tell me he's innocent. And you could have pretended things are alright when they're not. You sacrificed your love for me and chose the truth, and I don't know who could be more admirable than you at this point. "

You hadn't even realized the tears gathered in the base of your eyes when f/n finished her speech. You hadn't realized how her words struck a cord in you and how the cord snapped. You hadn't realized how much weight you carried on your shoulders for this.

Tears wouldn't stop flowing from your eyes as you watched f/n, speechless. A soft sob breaks out as you palm your face, trying to hold it in. But it wasn't really possible when a pair of warm hands wrapped around you and you let out all the pain you had stored in you.

You hugged f/n back and cried till you couldn't physically cry anymore, and f/n just held you, rubbing your back in silence.

After you calmed down, you part from her and wipe your face before saying, "yes I'll be your friend."

It was so random and straightforward that your new friend couldn't help but laugh. "I'm glad." she says, shedding a few tears herself. She didn't have to tell you that she has forgiven you, and you didn't have to thank her for forgiving. It was all conveyed through your actions.

You both giggle and smile at the newfound friendship when you suddenly remembered.

"ah, I'm going to meet the volleyball team tomorrow before school starts, you wanna come?"

At that f/n's face drops. You knew what she was thinking so you add. "you don't have to if you don't want to." you knew you could handle yourself by avoiding Osamu, but the same couldn't be said about f/n. Or Atsumu for that matter.

F/n gives you a sheepish look. You understood she still wasn't ready. And that meant she's also not attending their games.

"sorry." she says.

You shake your head and squeeze her arms lightly. "that's fine. Take your time. It's not easy, I know."

She nods. "are you attending the game?" she asks.

You shrug. "I don't know. Maybe not."

"you won't cheer for gin?"

You smile. "of course I will. From the four walls of my house. Because there are other people in the team I don't want to meet...yet."

F/n makes an 'o' and suddenly giggles. "boy problems suck huh."

You join her and giggle too, nodding. "it sure does."

You suddenly get a wave of deja vu as your meet with Suna comes to mind. It's like you found a friend in f/n again, after him.

It's not bad at all.

***

You stand a little far from the volleyball team, hiding behind the building. There was everyone, including the twins. Your eyes lock on Osamu, who is looking as handsome as ever. Gosh, if only you could hug him. You missed hugging him.

Shaking your head, you take out your phone and call your cousin.

"hello?"

You see Ginjima standing with Atsumu. Shit. "hey, have you guys left for the tournament?" you ask. You seriously weren't ready to see them all together.

"no. We're waiting for coach. Where are you?"

You see Suna walking up to Ginjima and you heard a voice in the background asking who it is, to which Ginjima says your name.

Suna takes the phone from his hands and says, "I thought you said you'd come to see us off? Where are you?"

Trying to stop the smile forming on your lips, you reply. "I'll be there in a few minutes."

Suna nods to no one in particular. "hopefully we don't leave in those few minutes."

You giggle at his tone. In the time you hung out with him, you noticed Suna had the ability to make you laugh for no reason. It's just the way he spoke, or his way of thinking, that amused you.

Your eyes turn to Osamu, who was eyeing the two boys curiously. Your heart wrenched at the thought of not being able to greet him, and you curl your hands in a fist. The impulsive part in you said screw it and go to them. But the anxious part of you reminded you of all the worst case scenarios if you did that.

"oh whatever." you mutter and straighten your uniform before stuffing your phone inside the back and appearing from behind the building. The boys hadn't noticed you yet, so you try to plaster a smile and walk towards them.

Shit, what are you doing! Turn back! Turn back!

The voice inside your head screamed at you to return and say you couldn't make it on time. But you chose the reckless option. You just wanted to breathe the same air as Osamu, even if that sounds creepy as heck.

Speaking of Osamu, he was the first one to spot you. Your eyes connect and they widen for a moment before turning back to normal. At least for you it does.

As for Osamu, poor dude cannot look away. All the determination he had gathered to make up with you crumbled as soon as he spotted you. You were beautiful, even if you were in the school uniform that he has seen a million times. It still doesn't change the fact that you made him weak in the knees.

You made a beeline for your cousin. "Gin!"

Ginjima and Suna, as well as the others look in your direction. You wanted the ground to open up and swallow when you felt a pair of gray eyes on you, boring holes. Not only that, but his blonde twin was doing the same. You hadn't any contact with either of the twins, and this is the first time after the fight that you were so near them.

Suna's face breaks into one of those rare smile he gave when he sees you. To anyone, specially a gray head, it may look like you're someone special to him, or that he had a thing for you. But it really wasn't that. Sure, you were special because you were cool enough for Suna to openly respect you, but that's all. He saw a good friend in you and you did the same.

"so you came." he states, the smile still playing on his lips.

You give him a small smile yourself. "of course. I did tell you I'll come."

You throw your arms around Ginjim's shoulders, who looked nervous. His expressions were so open you couldn't help but laugh at him sometimes. "what got you so nervous kid?" you ask.

Scowling, he mutters. "I'm just three months younger." but makes himself smaller in your embrace.

"Aw. Don't worry. You'll do well."

Suna laughs at the baby voice you use on Gin. You didn't treat him like a baby, but sometimes just to tease him you used that voice.

"hopefully." he says, and you let go of him to greet the third years when they come around you.

You fall into a casual conversation with them, and the twins were the only people away from the group. Atsumu had his eyes narrowed at you, and Osamu looked like he had entered the sad Romeo stage again. There was longing in his eyes to hold you, but alas, what could he do about it.

Atsumu eyes his brother and rolls his eyes. He looked pathetic. He wasn't any better, but what's with that expression. He couldn't bear to see his brother like that.

Letting out a huff, he shoves his twin towards your direction. "go and talk to her."

Osamu turns to look at him with surprise. "I thought you hate her?"

Atsumu didn't say anything. He didn't hate you. He never did. He was just mad at you on that day because he wasn't seeing anything except the break up, and that you caused it. But when he calmed down and assessed the situation, he knew what you did was noble. But his ego was big and he didn't want to let go of that just yet.

"just go." Atsumu replies in a soft voice, almost a whisper as he shoved his brother again. Osamu gulped and gave him one last look before dragging his heavy steps towards you.

To say he was nervous would be an understatement. He wasn't this nervous even when he asked you out behind the gym after gawking over you from afar in the morning assembly every day since the day you helped a girl who had passed out. Something about you just caught his attention. Maybe it was the serious aura about you, the 'no-nonsense' attitude but also a softer side that was very discreet. His eyes would look for you in every assembly after that. After getting shuffled during the new year, Osamu finally managed to stand in the row beside you. He would catch glances when one day you caught him staring. And he took a leap of faith.

Good thing that leap worked.

But the leap of faith he took in the present scene didn't take him far, for he was just a couple feet away from you when he saw their coach arriving and instructing the team to enter the bus. It was time.

A small part of you broke when you saw Osamu's approaching steps falter at the sound of the coach. You may be a loser, but he sure as heck wasn't and you were grateful for that. You wanted him to approach you, talk to you. Because if he started running towards you, your feet would soon follow. But sadly that wasn't the case.

Osamu contemplated whether he should continue his trek towards you or go to the bus. He was almost tempted to forget the darn game and run to you. But your next words stopped him.

"you got it."

His eyes flicker to you in surprise. The rest of the team was already on their way to the bus, so they were out of earshot, except for Atsumu who was behind his brother. You turn to the older twin, and smile. "you too Atsumu."

Atsumu wasn't surprised, he was touched. Anyway, he was guilty for misbehaving with you, and didn't find the courage to apologise, but if you're giving him the smile you always did, like a sister to a brother, he takes it as a sign of forgiveness.

He couldn't help but smile. Maybe you two didn't even need to talk, maybe this was the closure. "I'll do my best. And name a serve after you." Atsumu says, as he walks past you with a pat on your shoulder.

You chuckle at his words and wave him goodbye before looking at Osamu, whose lips quivered slightly. Dang, it's not the time to get emotional. That's not what you intended when you took the step first towards him.

"go." you say, amusement lining your eyes when you see him struggle to not hug you. Things weren't completely okay, and you two had a lot to talk. But that comes after this tournament.

Osamu nods, wiping his eyes with his jersey jacket. He puts on his mask and eyes crinkle at you, indicating a smile. You give him a smile of your own before he walks away, glancing at where you were standing a couple of times.

Step 2, check.

Things are coming to an end guys. One more chapter to go. It's the first step towards getting back together. For both the twins. Stay tuned.

[katnissmellarkkk]

Andddd here’s my chappy three thoughts 🥳🥳🥳

Hmmm Katniss saying that her mother has a dress made of velvet is actually really interesting because it shows that Mrs. Everdeen Lily-Rose really was well-er off before she married Katniss’ father Hunter.

Or did she get the velvet dress from Maysilee? Oh well, who knows.

Aww, Katniss’ nervous habit of touching soft things repeatedly to soothe herself 🤧🤧.

“Crying is not an option. There will be more cameras at the train station.” — someone tell that to Peeta 🤣🤣🤣.

Okay I gotta stop picking on Primmers, I know but like. How small is she that she sits on Katniss’ lap like a toddler but then in the following year is the same height as her? Doesn’t matter I know but still I wonder.

Okay so Mrs. E is the doctor for the people of the Seam? Idk I never thought about this but who does people like Peeta or Madge or Delly go to if they’re sick or hurt? Is there a still running apothecary shop that Katniss never mentions? Are her grandparents still running the family biz?

Also okay, I gotta stop having so many thoughts on all the lil details I know but like. Katniss says here she’s familiar with the herbs her mother doesn’t grow on her own so like a). Katniss is more of a healer than she leads on because no average person knows what kind of plant is medicinal and b). Her mother is just growing herbs and Katniss never mentions it again in the whole series? Or I just missed it.

Okay imma move on from this one singular paragraph but Gale and her made a pact a year ago that they’ll supply each other’s family with game if they were to be reaped... I’m feeling like their close friendship is probably only one year old then? Idk. Just my interpretation.

Honestly I love Katniss getting mad at her mom here.

She’s sixteen, for God’s sake, of course she’s angry at what her mother’s illness put her through.

Also I lowkey like that her mother got mad back because that lady in the movies had zero personality.

“Boys who are two to three times my size.” She sounds so little, omg 🥺🥺🥺.

“I don’t care if we’re rich, I just really want you to come home” 🤧🤧🤧😩😩😩😩 okay Primmers, you got me here.

“the Peacekeeper is at the door, signaling our time is up, and we're all hugging one another so hard it hurts and all I'm saying is ‘I love you. I love you both.’ And they're saying it back...” this is so sad leave me be 😫😫😫😫

Katniss is burying her face in a pillow to block out her emotions this is too much for me 🥵🥵🥵

Omg I forgot Peeta’s father visits Katniss 😅

Why does he visit Katniss?

She describes Peeta’s father as a “big, broad-shouldered man.” And then describes Peeta as stocky. Idk the comparison of the two descriptions has always led me to think Peeta is gonna be a big dude when he grows up like his father. This made no sense and had zero correlation but I thought, so I said it, no regrets

Oh he brought her cookies 🤧

WAIT WAIT WAIT. I just had a new thought, y’all. What if instead of the baker bringing cookies being a thing he does for all tributes, what if he’s bringing the cookies because Peeta asked him to, because he made them and wants to give them to Katniss and knows she’ll never accept / trust them coming from her competition? What if that’s the real reason the baker visited her in the first place? Because Peeta asked him to? This was such a shipper comment but idc, no regrets, remember?

Omg Peeta’s father is just mute 🤣🤣🤣

Between an abusive, angry mother and a mute for a father, the Mellark brothers must have had a fairytale of a childhood 😅😅😅😅.

But seriously #PoorPeetaMyBaby

Aww Peeta’s father is gonna help keep Prim alive 😭

Omg I just remembered he’s her mother’s ex boyfriend. Haidon Mellark, as I named him in my fics.

That one fic where he was thought to be Prim’s real father is just playing now in my head, rent free.

But does Katniss not realize that he may be offering to help Prim as a favor to her? Like she claims Prim is just so wonderful people adore her but there’s like zero evidence in the text that make her endearing? Okay I need to turn this bus around, I need to find a love for Primmy Deen.

Madge is not one for preamble apparently. No “hi, how are you? I’m sorry you’re gonna die? What will your last meal be?” Just right to “here, wear this family heirloom of mine, k thanks.”

I like that Madge had to kiss her cheek for Katniss to realize they were friends 😅😅😅.

I remember always loving her and Gale’s hug here. I’ve always felt like it was platonic, but especially when I first read the books and had zero preference one way or another for Gale or Peeta, I really liked how she said even with nothing romantic between them, “when he opens his arms, I don’t hesitate to go to him” or something I’m paraphrasing ok I’m lazy

Also though, this is the first time they’ve ever hugged? Idk why that surprises me? It shouldn’t because where is a hug gonna fit into a hunting trip 😅🤣😂 “I just caught a deer!” “let’s celebrate with a hug!”

I like that Katniss remembers how her father even failed to make a good bow sometimes. Random, I know.

I like that the Capitol weren’t entertained by the people freezing to deaths because it wasn’t bloody enough 🤭🙃

“How different can it be [to kill a human vs an animal]?” She’s about to find out, Gale 🥺. And when she comes back you won’t understand 🙄😔

What did Gale want to say before the Peacekeepers dragged him away?

I used to think it was a confession of love but I’m actually sure it wasn’t now? Just the wording “remember I-“ doesn’t sound like it, considering he never confessed anything prior to her coming home.

I’m assuming now he was just gonna give her some more advice to stay alive 🤷🏼‍♀️. Clearly if it were relevant it would have made its way to the others books.

Aww, she’s never been inside a car before 😭😭. I didn’t even know they had cars in this universe but okay.

I notice though how she says “In the Seam, we travel on foot.” So is Peeta just riding his trolly down the street every day with the other merchants then? 🤣

Peeta just openly crying on camera 😅😢.

I like how Katniss is like “ooo is this an act to get sponsors?” when in reality Peeta’s like “no, I’m just a soft and genuine boy ™️”

Omg I just realized this totally goes along with Peeta’s thing later on “I want to die as myself”

He’s refusing to hold back his emotions because he thinks he’s doomed to die and he’s already refusing to pretend to be or feel something ingenious.

But a Johanna mention in book 1 chapter 3 woohoo 🥳🥳🥳 also Katniss comparing Jo and Peeta is kind of like foreshadowing of their shared torture in book 3.

Omg she just called Peeta broad-shouldered and strong. 🥰🥰🥰 my headcanon for his post-canon body is confirmed

Also why does Katniss keep allotting his strength to carrying bread trays around? Are they heavy? Why have I never once heard of people who carry bread trays being strong? I always thought Peeta was really strong because he learned to fight in order to defend himself against his mother but that’s probably wrong.

But if a mother is abusive, it can lead to one of the kids being physically violent as well and we know Peeta isn’t but he has two older brothers I’m gonna cut myself off now but I think we all smelled what I just stepped in.

Also I just find it so fascinating now how she regards herself vs Peeta here.

When talking about herself, she says, “The competition will be far beyond my abilities. [...] Oh, there'll be people like me, too. People to weed out before the real fun begins.” But when she talks about Peeta, she immediately says, “It would take an awful lot of weeping to convince anyone to overlook him.”

It’s just funny how she discounted herself right from the start but thought he was a real contender and then come to find out, Peeta believes it’s the exact opposite 😂🙃. They’re both so stupid I can’t even take it.

Wait did they actually give the location of the Capitol and the location of District Twelve in today’s world? And I just overlooked it? Brb I’m gonna go to google maps right quick.

Okay so basically what I gathered is the Capitol is probably in New Mexico and District Twelve is somewhere between Kentucky and Alabama. Irrelevant I know. But just a reminder now to everyone that Katniss and Peeta are literally speaking, crying and screaming in thick, backwoods southern accents.

It’s literally so sad how everything for Katniss is about food. Like every motive she has, every action she does is about preventing starvation ever again. 🤧🤧🤧

First mockingjay mention 🤭🤭.

“My father was particularly fond of mockingjays” 😭😭😭 I bet he was 😭😭😭😭

We always go on and on about how Katniss is a mockingjay or her children are mockingjays but Katniss herself here says mockingjays represent her father imma cry, y’all 😫😫😫😫

“It’s like having a piece of my father with me, protecting me” shut up shut up shut up shut up

Awww, Katniss has never had food like this before 😔😔😔

Neither has Peeta 🤧🤧

Katniss disliking the way Effie put the two kids from the year before down and so began to eat like a pig just to prove her point, is so her. And the beginning of her fighting for the underdog.

Omg the Rue introduction 🥺🥺🥺

Bahahahaha the commenters calling District Twelve backwards but charming 😅😅😅 they really are the hillbilly district

Peeta’s unexpected laugh 🥺🥺🥺 I love you, baby

“He was drunk. He’s drunk every year.” “Every day.” Katniss and Peeta are already finishing each other’s sentiments and teaming up to get on Effie’s nerves I love them so much 😍

Oh my God, Effie, you selfish jerk. They’re kids having fun for like one second, no need to throw in their faces they’re gonna die if the drunk won’t help them. I’d forgotten why I don’t really like the book version of her. I actually prefer her as comedic relief in the movies.

I actually just realized I really dislike Effie Trinket, I hope they never speak to her again Post-Mockingjay. Idc how you’re raised you don’t need to treat teenagers who are sentenced to a probable death badly just because they laughed at you 🙄🙄🙄😡😡😡😡. They didn’t even really laugh at her, she’s just annoying and awful, we don’t stan Effie in this household.

Okay, that’s all for my thoughts on chapter three! Until next time, y’all ! If anyone actually read this long mess of a post.

[princesssarcastia]

Thoughts on Star Trek AOS? (And do you think Kirk was on Tarsus?)

i have SO MANY THOUGHTS about star trek aos, so buckle up.  brace yourself.

star trek aos is a terrible disaster and i love it SO MUCH.  for me, star trek 2009 is still in that class of unreasonably pleasing movies like the mummy or stardust or jumanji: welcome to the jungle.  what they are isn’t exactly top notch but you love them for being exactly what they are.

star trek aos is a star-studded fucking phenomenal cast of some of the best actors working today, which makes up for the very inconsistent writing and unfortunate low-level current of sexism.

literally where would i be today if chris pine could not make faces Like That. i honestly couldn’t tell you.

overall, I have quite a few bones to pick with JJ Abrams for setting up a star trek universe that is less Wacky Space Utopia adventures with liberal political commentary ranging from unsubtle to im-hitting-you-over-the-head-with-my-opinions-like-they’re-a-brick—

to this kind of overtly militarized action-hero adventure porn where one white man saves the universe from Scary People Who Don’t Look Like Us And Are Crazy.  I also don’t appreciate what they did to Jim Kirk, turning him into this womanizing self-centered bastard who has to be in charge.  I REALLY don’t appreciate the casual misogyny, what with the last of rank stripes for women and the gratuitous sex-ed up scenes and the way that Amanda Grayson gets fridged for man-pain and and and— you get the picture.

Or at least, that’s what they tried to do to jim kirk.  and god fucking bless chris pine for being able to make facial expressions, because i firmly believe if pretty much almost anyone else had played Jim Kirk as written by JJ Abrams, that’s exactly what he would have been.

But because of chris pine’s acting, instead, most of the AOS fandom and I realized/decided that this “womanizing” version of jim kirk actually really really hates himself so much, most likely for trauma reasons. 

we took that shit and ran with it and never really stopped.

zachary quinto is also like god tier casting.  unfortunately the writers for the first two movies mostly gave him Anger as a primary motivator, which like, is not exactly how I would interpret Spock at all, but quinto played this Angry Spock so so well.

ZOE SALDANA PLAYS THE LIGHT OF MY LIFE, NYOTA UHURA, PERFECTLY AND THAT’S ALL I’LL HEAR ON THE MATTER.

john cho should be cast in everything ever he’s amazing and I love seeing him.  this man has the range. hikaru sulu is the backbone of this fucking ship.  this man wins the big damn hero award every single movie. 

i still miss living in the same world as anton yelchin. i really, really do.

I also have found family feelings all over these movies, where these baby versions of iconic characters from the sixties are brought together too early to witness too much fucking trauma.  harry potter references aren’t exactly in vogue right now, but there’s this one piece from a—well, actually, its a harry potter reference in an mcu fic i read years ago, now that i think about it, but anyway:

it was something like, there are some things you can’t go through with a person—like that mountain troll in harry potter—without becoming friends for life.  there are some crucibles that will bind you together forever.  and awful as it is, I think Nero and the Vulcan genocide were the AOS crew’s mountain troll.  there’s no going back or separating, after that.

also I feel like there’s a ton of competence porn in this trilogy that i deeply, deeply enjoy.

star trek: 2009 and into darkness are both grimdark male power fantasy bullshit that only accidentally hits all the right buttons for me.  I love them dearly but i know EXACTLY what they are, thank you.

star trek: beyond is a delightful movie with no real plot where our favorite crew are finally Adults With A Modicum Of Common Sense And Stability, instead of Disaster Children Angsting All Over The Place, and they get to save the universe with the power of excellent rock music and friendship. how cool is that?!?  i wanna give simon pegg a high five for making this movie.

on a more meta note, what I find kind of satisfying about these movies is that—for all his many faults that i’m always happy to expound upon—JJ Abrams actually went for it.  He Did That.  He just made his own brand new timeline, killed jim kirk’s dad, then gave him an abusive uncle/step-dad, then literally destroyed one of the founding planets of the Federation, then he, in an iconic fashion, switched Jim and Spock’s places in the infamous “wrath of khan” death scene, so instead Spock gets to watch Jim die. 

and you know what? I can forgive a lot of bullshit for that kind of poetic angsty fanfic plot detail. 

every time uhura says, “an alternate reality,” in star trek 2009 just gives me chills.  every time she says it, you feel the weight of sixty years of history and legacy sitting on these people’s shoulders, the weight of arguably one of the most popular TV shows of all time.

imagine, living in a new world you’re aware isn’t the one that was supposed to be.  imagine that!

oh! and on the question of tarsus:

what I think is probably true irl: JJ Abrams has never thought that far ahead in his life.  correct me if i’m wrong, but hadn’t he.....not even watched star trek.........when he made these movies............like lol i’d bet you this man didn’t even really know Tarsus was a thing.  And even if he did, I don’t think he thought it was part of the new canon he was creating.  AOS is much more self-contained than the serialized universe the original star trek was, so I don’t think that AOS was intended to encompass all those things, like tarsus, that we as a fandom like to obsess over.

what I personally enjoy: i love me some AOS fic that explores the ridiculous amounts of trauma that comes from living through a genocide.  I think that, given we all decided AOS Jim Kirk hates himself, and engages in a shit ton of self-sabotaging and destructive behavior to cope, it’s a reasonable jump to think that at least some of that comes from some survivor’s guilt bullshit from Tarsus.  And honestly, hit me up if you want recs for this, because boy do I have them.  I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: no one does angst quite like AOS!Jim Kirk.

what I believe wholeheartedly: this is like Schrödinger's Plot Point, okay, it both exists and doesn’t exist simultaneously.  it’s easy to read tarsus into some of jim’s behavior, and it’s easy to read none of it in, and both of those choices are valid.  go with your gut, go with what makes you happy, go with what you think makes sense.  This is where fandom lives, in these little details that fall through the cracks.

anyway WOW did I talk a lot.  those are at least some of my star trek thoughts.  i do have others, but i’ve expounded on them before on this blog, and y’all don’t need me to repeat myself

ask me my thoughts on ______

[omgitsshrimp]

[SPOILERS from Manga!!] Attack on Titan Theory/Lyric Interpretation: Name of Love is Eren talking to Historia

MAJOR SPOILER WARNING!! IF YOU’RE ANIME ONLY, SKIP THIS POST!!

I wanted to do a little lyric interpretation for the 5th ending song for Attack on Titan, Name of Love by Cinema Staff. I’m aware that the imagery used in the ending was focusing on the 104th cadets, but I wanted to focus on the lyrics specifically and explore other possible interpretations. So please be open minded and just have fun with my little theory!

The english translation of the lyrics I decided to use were from the Attack on Titan Wiki:

https://attackontitan.fandom.com/wiki/Name_of_Love#English_

[LAST SPOILER WARNING FOR ANIME ONLYS]

Disclaimer: this is going to step into some shipping territory, but I want to be clear that I am not a shipper or an anti anything, so don’t take this too seriously. I’m just having a bit of fun writing out my theory lol

The theory:

I think the song is from Eren’s perspective, and I think he could be talking to Historia in the song as well. I know many believe it relates to the 104th cadets, but maybe both are true? Anyway, I’m going to explain why I think it could be Eren to Historia.

My Interpretation of the Lyrics (lyrics are in bold):

Goodbye World

Starts with the person saying, “goodbye world”. I take this from Eren’s perspective. I’ve seen this interpreted as Eren dying but I think it could actually be referencing him doing the rumbling and saying goodbye to the world because he’s killing everyone. So this establishes the song in Eren’s perspective, in my opinion.

Our shadows standing side by side do not cross each other.

Reading this lyric I thought about the 104th cadets standing side by side, I thought about the colossal titans standing side by side, but I also thought about Eren and Historia standing side by side during the secret meeting(s), which seem to have occurred at dusk/sunset (possibly dawn) I believe. For shadows to look like they’re standing side by side the sun has to be low; at dusk or dawn. Dusk and dawn have been used to symbolize the ending of one cycle and start of another. Eren only talked about ending a cycle of hate with Historia. (I know this might be a bit reaching, but stay with me)

My hope, my light, and the unknown scenery, 

I’m still searching for them

Hope = a future where he (and everyone he cares about) is free

Light = like a light at the end of the tunnel: freedom, Historia and their baby

Unknown scenery = what comes after the rumbling. This line made me wonder if at some point Eren’s future memories stop and he’s not sure what comes after a certain point. Everything has been known to him because of his ability to see future memories, but not this. He stated to Falco once that people keep moving forward because something drives them, and they don’t always know if the end result will be another hell, or not, but only those who keep moving forward will find out. I think that’s the case with Eren. He’s still moving forward searching for the answer to all of this; what happens after the cycle ends with the rumbling. The line, “I’m still searching for them” portrays this I think.

Let’s make one promise

This made me think of Eren saying this to Historia because a promise was also mentioned in Historia’s theme Zero Eclipse (only the later half of the song is related to Eren and Historia):

‘Make a promise that I cannot regret, as long as I can see you but in secret’

So one song from Historia’s perspective and another from Eren’s perspective, both referencing a promise.

To call each other by our names,

To share our happiness to one another,

To connect using our words, to hold on tight to our pain

This sort of reminded me of marriage vows. Not saying I believe Eren and Historia are married or anything. I just got romantic vibes from this. I read it as one person saying it to another, rather than between multiple people. The promise is portrayed as something very personal and emotional (“hold on tight to our pain”, “share our happiness”).

Somewhere in this world, if we meet in the future,

Please don’t forget about me, the truth about me.

I saw this as Eren not knowing if he’ll make it out of this alive. Because, as I mentioned earlier, maybe there is a point where his future memories stopped and he doesn’t know what comes after that point. But whether he lives or dies he asks Historia to remember the truth about him. At this point only Historia knows the truth about Eren because he has only opened up to her so she knows the truth. Eren doesn’t want his horrible act of genocide to change her view of him (like it did/will for many others (his friends); the world sees him as an enemy) so he asks her not to forget the truth about him. That truth possibly being that he doesn’t actually want to kill all these people but has to, or feels compelled to as he believes it’s the only way to end the cycle of hate and gain freedom. Basically I think he’s saying: don’t see me differently after this, whether I’m dead or alive, remember the real me.

Goodnight World

The sunsetting on the world represents the ending of a cycle (which Eren mentioned in his talk with Historia). I think this references the rumbling again. Eren saying farewell to the previous cycle.

Nobody else has to know besides us

Time, please stop

I held back your cold hand

I think this is referring to Eren and Historia’s secret meetings. 

Time, please stop = Eren wants to stay in this moment forever, he doesn’t want the future to come (because he doesn’t want to kill all those people). His term (13 years) is running out. 

I held back your cold hand = This one was difficult but I think Eren doesn’t want to see future memories either. That’s why he held back her hand. She may have been reaching out to him for warmth. I could be wrong. I don’t think Eren and Historia never physically touched at all (she’s having his baby after all), but maybe they were more hesitant about it because of the memory thing.

An Everlasting dream, a gloomy shadow

Gloomy shadow = the rumbling that he needs to do to get to his freedom

Dream = everlasting freedom

An adventure on a sunny, cloudless day;

Huddling under an umbrella on a rainy day

Scattered tears softly lifted,

Carrying our wounds, let’s move forward

Eren is reminiscing on memories, possibly with Historia. Spending time together, “scattered tears” shows that they probably shared intimate, emotional moments as well (there was a memory shard of Historia crying). Eren is urging someone to keep moving forward with him. If only Historia knows Eren’s plans and motivations, then only she can be the one moving forward with him, because she actually knows what’s going on.

The promise we made in our hearts,

A promise that never fade.

I hear the sound of the wind, beyond the map.

A “promise made in our hearts” has undertones of love to me. The fact that he says it will never fade points to a mutual devotion or commitment to one another. 

Sound of the wind beyond the map =  I took this as Eren recognizing that it’s time for him to leave the island and start the rumbling. 

[Chorus repeats again]

The bell at the start of the day;

The dawn is calling for us,

In the truth, name of love,

Don’t be afraid, move forward.

The bell = the rumbling. In Ch 126, a citizen of Paradis looks on at the last line of Colossal titans leaving the island and says of the rumbling, “It was like the sound of bells, announcing our freedom.”

The start of the day = new day, morning, new cycle for the world

Dawn is calling = the new cycle is beginning or has begun. 

In the truth, name of love, don’t be afraid, move forward = I think this is Eren saying to focus on the truth of who they know they are, their love. Even if everyone is against them, they know the truth about each other and are on each other’s side. He’s saying because of this, there’s no need to be afraid. He’s telling Historia to focus on this, move forward and don’t be afraid.

Somewhere in this world, if we meet again in the future

No matter how small, please don’t forget…

Eren asking that Historia remember every little truth about him

The future in our hearts, the promise that belongs to us

Please don’t forget, about me

The truth about me

Future in our hearts = their hopes for the future, freedom, freedom for their baby

The promise that belongs to us = implies the promise is something private and kept from other people. Points to an element of secrecy.

And it ends with Eren once again asking Historia to remember the truth about him.

End of interpretation.

These are just my opinions and I know it could just be about the 104th cadets/scouts, but what makes me think of Eren and Historia are:

-Reference to a promise. A promise was also referenced in Zero Eclipse. We don’t know of any personal promises made between the 104th cadets. We just know of the “devote your hearts” salute, which would’ve worked if the promise in the song wasn’t portrayed as something personal and private, with undertones of love involved. “Devote your hearts” was more of a military salute to devote yourself to the greater mission of serving humanity/Paradis; it’s not an mutual, intimate, personal promise between individuals.

-Eren talking about the rumbling and urging someone to move forward with him in that direction. He never told anyone in the 104th about his rumbling plans except Historia. And we have seen Eren encourage Historia to stay quiet about the rumbling in Ch 130.We’ve clearly seen that Eren and the rest of the 104th are moving in different directions, which is why they are currently fighting each other. 

-There are elements of secrecy and love in the lyrics that don’t really fit with the 104th cadets dynamic. (“nobody else has to know besides us”, “a promise that belongs to us”, “a promise made in our hearts”). I always pictured the 104th’s dynamic with elements of loyalty, trust, camaraderie, a precious bond of close friendships. However, Eren and Historia’s dynamic is more aligned with the elements shown in the lyrics. 

-The song title is “Name of Love” so personally I don’t think it’s a stretch to theorize that the song has a more romantic undertone in some parts. ‘Love’ is literally in the title.

This song was the ending for Season 3 part 2. I used to think it was fitting because of the imagery used with the song; I assumed it was about the 104th cadets only, but then I had a change of mind when I started to really look at the lyrics. The lyrics sound like Eren from season 4 to me now, but it still makes sense for season 3 because the end of season 3 part 2 is when we start to see Eren change. Especially after seeing the future memory when he kisses Historia’s hand, and sees that his father’s memories were accurate. His last line in the season foreshadows the Eren portrayed in the song: “If we kill every last one of our enemies out there, will we finally be free?”

I think that’s everything. I hope I didn’t forget anything. Feel free to let me know what you think, just be respectful please! If you made it to the end, thanks for taking the time to read through all of it!

[childrenofthenightt]

only the black rose (chapter 7)

pairing: jimmy page x layla porter (oc)

warnings: descriptions of vomiting, borderline nsfw, a hobbit reference, fluff as always   

words: 4.3k

summary: in the blink of an eye, it’s 1975 and layla’s suddenly joining led zeppelin for their north american tour. throughout the chaos, the band take a liking to her, she builds friendships with the boys, and love blossoms. but all good things must come to an end.

author’s note: y’all are gonna think these bad things didn’t happen but like. tour straight from hell or something. anyways! a few chapters left, and then this baby is done. I’M SORRY THIS IS A BEEFY CHAPTER IT’S IMPORTANT FOR PLOT STUFF kinda. hope you all enjoy :)

masterlist

playlist

chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

----------

“As long as I don’t have to room with Pagey over here, I’m fine with anything.”

“Hey! Bonzo, come on!”

“What? You snore.”

Touching down in Detroit, the band drives down to the hotel, set on a good night’s sleep before a crucial performance. Stuck in the lobby, jetlag slowing their movements as their eyes drift shut briefly, they attempt to sort out the rooms for their stay. With three rooms available, the five of them work out who gets the coveted single room.

“I think Jimmy and Robert should take a room together: everyone already thinks they’re together anyways. I’ll take the solo room.”

Robert squawks in surprise, which turns into a full-blown coughing fit, as he nearly doubles at the waist from the force. Layla brings a hand to his back, rubbing a soothing circle into the fabric of his light shirt. How he wasn’t shivering in the face of Detroit in January was beyond her. The coughing finally ceases, and Robert sucks in a breath, breathing ragged from the strain.

“Are you alright, Robert?”

“Of course, little dove,” Robert answers, patting the hand that now rests on his shoulder. “My throat is just a tad dry, I bet.”

“Okay…”

“If you don’t mind,” Robert moves toward the sitting area behind them, casting a hand out dramatically to show it off, as though it were the height of luxury. “I’ll be over here, resting my weary legs.”

With a puzzled glance towards Robert, the group continues bickering.

“Jonesy, you know Jimmy’s gonna want to room with his petal,” Bonzo says, emphasizing the nickname, and Layla didn't even need to see his face to detect the smirk that was surely playing on his lips. “Robert can room with you, so I can have the solo room.”

“Excuse me, do we not get a say in this?” Jimmy asks, hands gesticulating wildly as he speaks. His cheeks are suspiciously flushed, as if he was embarrassed by Bonzo’s teasing. He’d never admit it, but the pink flooding his cheeks serves as evidence.

“Nope.” Jonesy and Bonzo reply in unison.

Robert, uncharacteristically silent, slithers up behind them, standing from his post on the comfortable lobby chair. Spotted by the concierge at the front desk, he puts a long finger up to his lips, and sticks a hand towards the solo room key that rests on the counter. Snatching it up with practiced ease, Robert smirks, and walks carefully back to his seat. Layla, casting an eye over the remaining keys, notices the disappearance, and locks eyes with the rest of the band.

“Guys… Where’d the solo key go?”

“What?”

“It was— It was just here!”

“Well,” Robert stretches as he stands, unfurling his long limbs. Raising his hand, the stolen key dangling from it like precious, golden treasure, he steps backwards jauntily. “I had better get to my room, now. It’s been lovely chatting.”

With that, he’s off, scrambling for the elevators, leaving his friends in the dust.  Bonzo and Jonesy share a glance, and lunge for a key, walking away from the couple, who look after them with wide eyes.

“Do I really snore that bad?”

“I mean…”

“I’m injured, that means you can’t be mean to me.”

“Since when has that stopped me? Also,” Layla pauses, turning to Jimmy, unconsciously taking his hand in her own. “You took a pill before we left the venue, right? You’re not in pain?”

“I took one, but… I’ll be fine.”

“Jimmy—”

“Come now, let’s go find our room.” The guitarist pulls her towards him, resting an arm across her shoulder as they walk to the elevator. Idle chatter follows as they walk to their shared room. Unlocking the door, Jimmy pulls it open, to discover a finely furnished room, with a sitting area accented by maple wood. The blinds were pulled back to reveal a view of downtown Detroit, dark sky bringing the city to life. The only thing out of place, however, was the bed. A single, queen-sized bed, clothed in a tan comforter, sat in the middle of the room. The couple glance at each other, and, finding the other looking right back, force their eyes elsewhere. Layla, fishing a pair of pyjamas out of her suitcase, moves to the bathroom to change into the ensemble: a pair of grey shorts, and an old threadbare t-shirt, at least two sizes too big. Walking out of the ensuite, her eyes fall upon Jimmy, laying on one side of  the large bed, dressed in green plaid pajama pants, and a soft cotton top. His head turns as he hears the woman approach, and he gives her a sweet smile. Layla climbs into the bed, turning to face him.

“You look cozy.” Jimmy says, nudging her lightly as she laughs.

“As do you. I would’ve expected you to be dressed in a black satin ensemble, if I’m being honest.”

The laugh that flies out past Jimmy’s cupid’s bow lips warms Layla to the core, and she can’t help but slide closer to the man.

“And why is that?”

“Your image, it’s just very… mysterious. It’s a good thing I know the truth, now,” She leans closer to him, slotting her head into the junction of his neck, resting on his shoulder. “You’re just a softie.”

“You’d be surprised, petal.”

“I’m sure.”

As they drift off, falling asleep to the sound of each other’s heartbeat, they can’t help but feel at home. Their arms wrap around each other, legs tangling together as they sleep soundly.

----------

The morning sun bright against her eyelids, Layla nuzzles further into Jimmy, black hair tickling her nose. All is tranquil, until a deep rumble pierces the fragile silence: her stomach. Layla extricates herself from Jimmy’s lax grip, and changes into a colourful button-up, tucked into a pair of dark flared jeans. Intent on taking the hotel up on their offer of a continental breakfast, she rushes down to the lobby. It’s when she passes the men’s restroom on the main floor, that she hears it. A groan, muffled through the closed door. This is followed by harsh dry-heave, as if someone had been throwing up.

“Uh… Excuse me, sir, ” She knocks on the door, hoping that whoever was in there could hear her voice. “Are you… okay in there?” Seconds pass, until a familiar voice breaks the tense silence.

“...Layla?”

“Robert?”

“Fancy…”  A gasp stops him in his tracks as he chokes once more. Layla can imagine the scene: Robert kneeling on the floor, face pressed to the cool tiles, whatever he had in his stomach lost to the porcelain throne. Finally recovered, he tries again. “Fancy meeting you here, little dove.”

“Robert, I’m coming in.”

Opening the door, she’s met with an unpleasant smell, and the sight of blonde curls falling across hunched shoulders. Kneeling down beside the sick man, she puts a hand to his back, the other rushing to hold his hair back.  He puts a hand on her thigh, the only part of her he could reach in that particular position, and gives it a light squeeze in thanks. A few seconds pass as Robert coughs out some more, until, spent, he sits back against the wall of the tiny stall he had run into.

“Are you okay, now? What happened?”

“I was… hankering for some breakfast, maybe a spot of tea, and I got halfway through a helping of eggs,” Robert explains, leaning his head on Layla’s shoulder, exhaustion lining his tan face. Somehow, he had kept his hair out of the way before she had gotten there, and it was as lush and as soft as ever. “When my stomach decided, ‘maybe eggs aren’t the best choice for today.’”

“Were you feeling like this yesterday?”

“Had a cough yesterday, wasn’t feeling sick, though. Must be a simple flu.” Layla maneuvers to place a hand on the man’s forehead, which feels as though it may just scorch her palm.

“Robert, you’re burning up!”

“I’m okay, little dove.”

“What is with you boys and saying you’re fine, when you’re clearly not?”

“It’s a habit…” Robert trails off, head slipping lower, chin touching his chest. He’s about to pass out, eyelashes fluttering gold under the harsh restroom lights, when Layla nudges him.

“I’m up, I’m up…”

“Robert, I need to go get you some help. Stay here, don’t move. I’ll be right back.” Layla sits up, just about to get to her feet when an overly warm hand grabs hers.

“Layla, don’t go…”

“Robert,” she starts, running a soft hand through his unruly curls. The singer melts into her side, eyes drooping. “I’ve gotta get someone. Please, just… stay here. Do not move.”

She jumps to her feet, rushing out of the bathroom in search of someone that can help. Turning the corner hastily, she nearly runs into Peter, who had been making his way to breakfast, Bonzo at his side. Stopping the men in their tracks with a hand held out in front of her, Layla relays the situation.

“Guys, Robert’s got the flu, and he’s been throwing up,” Layla points to the bathroom sheltering the blond in question, and turns back to the two men, who look frazzled by her rambling. “Please, can you get him up to his room? I’m gonna get him some Gatorade, something to help hydrate him.”

Immediately, Layla’s eyes widen at the slip, though the men think nothing of it, passing her with a nod and scurrying into the bathroom to retrieve the singer. Walking to the vending machine in the lobby, Layla places a number of loose coins, dug up from the depths of her jean pockets, into the slot and punches the button painted with the design of a lightning bolt. The machine rumbles, and Layla soon holds in her hand a can, labelled ‘Gatorade’. Huh, she thinks, it seems that some things remain the same after all.

Dashing to Robert’s room, she finds him tucked into his bed, bare-chested. Layla sets the drink down, sitting on the edge of the man’s bed. Her fingers begin to thread through his hair once more, and he stirs.

“Layla?”

“Yeah, it’s me, Rob.”

“Isn’t… Isn’t Jimmy gonna be jealous?”

“Go to sleep, Plant. You’ll be okay.”

“But…”

The woman shushes him, and he relaxes into her touch, drifting off finally. Layla stays, guarding the man, until he wakes up. The Gatorade sitting on the bedside table goes warm, Layla too preoccupied with the bedridden blond.

----------

Layla, leaving the sick vocalist in Peter’s capable hands, walks out of the room with a yawn. He should be okay, though the same might not be true for his voice. If she thought it had been a little hoarse yesterday, it was nothing compared to when he had awoken. Thoughts occupied, she had almost walked right into Jonesy, who had just turned the corner. Layla startles at the touch of a hand on her shoulder, and looks up into Jonesy’s eyes.

“Sorry, Jonesy. Guess I was a little distracted.”

“No worries. Is Robert okay? Bonzo just told me.”

Layla looks towards the closed door of Robert’s room, scratching the back of her neck. Turning back to Jonesy, she nods, smiling at the bassist.

“He should be okay, yeah. His voice might be a little rough, and he’s got a bit of a fever, but it’ll pass.”

“That's great to hear! Oh, Layla,” Jonesy starts, bringing his voice down to a whisper as to not alert anyone to their conversation. “Can we talk about something quickly? It’s about the… time travel… thing.”

Layla nods, and follows Jonesy into his room, the bassist flicking on the lights. Bonzo had been with Robert ever since they’d brought him up, so the hotel room was completely empty. Perfect for a private conversion. Sitting on the bed closest to the eggshell wall, Jonesy turns to face Layla, his hands fiddling with one another.

“I may have found some answers. It’s not much, but…”

Layla jerks, stunned by the admission, as her mouth opens and closes, doing her best impression of a fish out of water. She shakes her head, willing herself to respond, as Jonesy patiently waits.

“Wh-What? How? Jonesy, you—”

“Do you remember how, when we first talked about this, I had mentioned that guitarist? The one that had the same thing happen to him?”

“Yeah, you said he’d just vanished, listening to some playback?”

Jonesy nods, giving the woman a kind smile. He looks down at his hands again, and continues.

“Layla… What do you remember about the day you came here?”

“I was just getting ready for work,” Layla recounts, her face a picture of confusion. “When the turntable I have in my room started playing out of the blue.”

“It… It started playing on it’s own?”

“It started playing this song… I swear I don’t even have it on vinyl, but the lyrics were… they were beautiful. I reached out to stop it, and… then I was in the middle of the road.”

Jonesy fidgets again, eyes flitting around the room as he works out the best way to present his findings. Finally, he catches her gaze, and takes a small hand in one of his. Layla looks up at him, worry gleaming in her dark eyes as she waits for him to speak.

“The other day, I placed a call to my old friend, asking about his experience. He said… He said that the playback started on its own. He didn't push a single button.”

“But that means that…”

“...That this… time travel, seems to happen almost randomly.”

“The music. That’s what starts it… Did he say anything else?”

Jonesy looks down, shaking his head, his short hair flopping across his forehead. Looking back at Layla, he smiles apologetically.

“He wasn’t very forthcoming about what happened… though he did sound… sad? When it happened, he did mention a girl... I’m not sure exactly how this works, or why it works, but, Layla… He told me he had been there for years. He was…”

“Jonesy?” Layla calls his name, the man in question jolting, having gotten lost in the labyrinth of his thoughts. Locking eyes with the woman beside him, he continues, tone serious.

“He was gone for three days. If this is the same situation, I doubt you’ll have been gone for more than two days at most, when you go back.”

“This is,” Layla starts, hand coming up to run through her hair. She shakes her head, meeting Jonesy’s eyes. “This is insane…”

“Layla, I’m… I’m sorry I couldn’t do more to help. He just didn’t want to share, and—”

The bassist is interrupted by the sensation of arms around him, and sweet-smelling dark hair in his face. Hugging the woman back, he can’t help but be struck by the thought that he’s going to miss her, when she leaves. Pulling away, Layla swipes a finger under her eyes, obscuring any tears that might have fallen. Jonesy looks down at her, brows furrowed in concern.

“Jonesy, I… I want to apologize.”

“For what? There’s nothing to be sorry for. Is this like, a Canadian thing? I’ve heard you people apologize a lot.”

“I… I acted like… a bitch, to you all, when I first met you. I was rude, and I was… probably a little too sarcastic, and I never told you, or anyone, how—”

Jonesy pulls her in for another hug, and feels Layla bury her face into his shoulder, pulling away after a good while.

“I, uh… You probably don’t want to hear all the gory details, but… I learned to put up walls. To not let people in, ‘cause they’ll just leave. Looks like I’ll be the one doing the leaving this time…”

She chuckles wetly, scratching her arm unconsciously. Jonesy puts a steady hand on hers, stopping the movement.

“Layla…”

“When I got here, I was… scared,” Layla sniffles, looking away, too embarrassed at the admission to meet Jonesy’s pleading eyes. “Peter was the first face I saw when I woke up, and he was trustworthy. He helped me. You guys walked in and… I shut down. I put up walls, and I acted like… like nothing was bothering me.”

“It’s okay, you don’t have to explain—”

“Look, Jonesy,” Layla interrupts, gaze still firmly on a scuff mark on her sneakers. “I just… I do appreciate everything you guys have done, especially you, and… I didn’t show that. Maybe I still don’t.” Jonesy gives the hand still in his a squeeze, prompting Layla to finally look at him. He’s shocked by the tears threatening to fall, her brown eyes dark with sadness.  

“That’s not true. You make me smile every day, and you’re fun and… you’re like my little sister. It’s the same for Bonzo. He’s fond of you, even if he hides it, most of the time. He’s comfortable with you. You took care of Robert, and you comforted him. If you didn’t care, would you have stayed with him, stroking his hair for an hour?”

“Jonesy…”

“No, Layla, listen. Jimmy… God, he thinks so highly of you. He listens to you, which is a feat in and of itself. His face lights up whenever you’re around. The way he talks about you… We know you care. You care too much sometimes, if anything. You don’t have to apologize, because there’s absolutely nothing to be sorry for.”

Layla gazes into his stormy eyes, and nods, a fragile smile lighting up her face. Jonesy smiles back, and stands from his spot on the bed. Holding out a hand to help her up, Jonesy waits for Layla to take it, sliding an arm around her shoulders in a familiar embrace.

“God, Porter, you’re like…Bilbo Baggins, with how tiny you are.” Jonesy rests his arm on her head as he says this, smirking down at the woman.

“Says you, Jones.” Layla laughs, smiling gratefully at the bassist as they walk out the door.

----------

Slipping the ornate key into the lock on the door, Layla enters the room, spotting Jimmy sitting at the table near the window, a notepad and a ballpoint pen resting on the surface. The sunlight streaming in illuminates his face, as he squints against the brightness of it, writing furiously. Layla steps closer, taking in the sight before her. Perhaps sensing the eyes upon him, the sound of pen on paper ceasing as he looks up at the intruder.

“Hey, Jim. What’re you writing?”

“Oh, it’s nothing…”

Glancing at the paper strewn across the tabletop, Layla spots hastily drawn staves, neat music notes decorating the lines. At the top of the page, reads: ‘Tea For One”. It didn’t seem like there was much to it yet, but Layla couldn't wait to hear it.

“Hey,” Jimmy starts, a hand scratching at the back of his neck, tell-tale nerves making their appearance. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, Robert’s still sleeping, Peter’s keeping an eye on him.”

Jimmy huffs out a laugh, as he beckons Layla closer with a hand outstretched towards her. Taking it, Layla moves into his space, running her fingers through his hair as he looks up at her. She takes a handful of the soft sable locks and brings it up to the top of his head, a curtain of curly bangs falling over his eyes. Layla laughs as he frowns, looking up at her through emerald eyes sparkling with hidden happiness.

“I wasn’t talking about Robert, petal. How are you doing? I saw you walking with Jonesy, and you looked… nervous?”

“Oh,” Layla said, dropping her hands from the guitarist’s hair, scrambling for an adequate response. “I was just… a little on edge about Robert being sick and all, so Jonesy reassured me.”

“He’ll be okay, Layla. I hear you took great care of him.” The tail of the sentence is accompanied by a soft smirk, as he gazes at the woman, eyes roaming head to toe.

“Are you jealous, Page?”

“Well… I can’t help but want you all to myself, you know.”

“The feeling’s mutual, Romeo.”

Jimmy scoffs, taking her hand in his, threading their fingers together. Layla looks down at the joined hands, and Jimmy uses this to his advantage, pulling her even closer to sit in his lap. She lands with a soft noise of surprise, and Jimmy presses his lips to hers in a quick kiss.

“Romeo… That’s a new one.”

“What can I say? It fits you.”

“How?”  Layla tilts her head to the side at this, a finger pressed to her chin in mock contemplation. A hand strokes the apple of the guitarist’s cheek, as she smiles winningly.

“Well, for starters, you’re too romantic for your own good. I wouldn't put it past you to recreate the balcony scene. Full dramatics, of course.”

“That must make you Juliet then, falling for my charm.”

“I mean, I guess you’re more than just a pretty face.”

“Truly, I’m flattered,” Jimmy jokes, looking down at Layla, lips quirked in a smile. “And I thought you just liked me for my hair. You do keep messing with it, after all.”

“Well…” Layla giggles, tugging on a stray curl that frames his squared jaw. “That’s your fault for keeping it so long. Free real estate.”

Jimmy, smiling fondly at the woman in his lap, taps her leg, and she stands. Layla sticks a hand out to help him up, surely just an excuse to touch him again. Jimmy takes the offered hand, and places a hand on her hip as he pushes russet curls behind her ear.

“Bonzo was saying something about a trip down to the hotel pool, if you were interested. I can’t swim myself, but I’d be happy to join you… If you want to, of course.”

“Sounds like fun,” Layla exclaims, face lighting up at the prospect of a fun night at the pool. “Who else would I splash when they’re not paying attention, but you?”

“I shouldn’t have offered…”

With a wink, Layla bounds over to her suitcase and pulls out a swimsuit, heading into the bathroom to change. Jimmy changes into a pair of shorts, forgoing a shirt, and sits on their shared bed to wait for Layla, who walks out of the bathroom, a hand running up and down her arm shyly. She clears her throat, wincing at the volume of it, as Jimmy lifts his head to look at her. A sharp intake of breath rings out in the silence of the room as his mouth falls open, blatantly checking her out. Dressed in a simple, sleek black one-piece that accentuates her curves, dark hair cascading down freckled shoulders, Layla stands in front of him, arms crossed shyly over her chest. Jimmy nears, a hand going to her elbow.

“Petal, you look…”

“Is it okay?”

His response to her question comes in the form of a heated kiss, hand moving from her elbow to her cheek. Finally pulling away, he looks her up and down once more.

“You look… gorgeous.”

“You’re not too bad yourself.” Layla runs a hand across his chest, making the man shiver, mind going haywire from the electric touch. The man looks down at her with a question in his eyes, dark with desire, and she nods. Jimmy walks her backwards until she’s pressed up against the wall, the man moving further into her space.

“Is this alright, petal?” he says, smirk in place as he gazes into Layla’s eyes, teasing her.

“God, just kiss me.”

And he does.

The couple’s lips move in unison, noses bumping together in their haste to connect. Jimmy’s uninjured hand moves back to its place on her hip as he groans into the kiss, biting her lip as she melts into him. Layla takes the noise as an invitation, slipping her fingers closer to the waistband of the man’s shorts. They pull away, Jimmy nodding, his pupils blown wide, lips swollen with the force of the kiss. Layla’s hair is mussed, Jimmy’s hands running through it as they move together. Layla’s hand slips lower, as Jimmy's own rests at her shoulder, fiddling with the bathing suit, hoping to uncover what lay beneath.

“I hope you’re not having sex in there! Let’s go, the pool won’t be open all day!” Bonzo’s voice booms through the closed door as the couple spring apart, breathing heavily, cheeks flushed scarlet. With a huff, they walk to the door, pulling it open to find Bonzo and Jonesy, dressed for a swim.

“You guys look… Um… Did we interrupt something?”

“No.”

“Yes.”

Layla and Jimmy respond in unison, eyes wide as they look at the rhythm section, who shake their heads in exasperation.

“Whatever, just…. Keep it in your pants for a little longer, please.” With that, Bonzo and Jonesy walk away, Jimmy and Layla scrambling to keep up. Finally reaching the pool, Bonzo and Layla dive in immediately, while Jonesy sits on the edge, legs dangling in the water below. Jimmy takes a seat next to him, slipping a foot into the water hesitantly. Immediately, he pulls it out with a gasp, much to the amusement of his friends.

“That was so cold!”

“How about this, then?”

A wave splashes Jimmy right in the chest, and he shrieks, curling up to avoid the spray. Layla laughs, having splashed him in the first place. Jimmy, recovered from the shock of freezing water on his bare chest, frowns at the woman. His eyes, however, held an air of mischief, as if he was planning something.

“Come here for a second, petal?” Layla swims closer to him, a smirk tilting her lips upwards, dark eyes dancing with amusement. She stands up when she nears him, slotting herself between his legs

“Yes, Jimmy?”

His response was to bring a hand up to her cheek, drawing her in for a short, sweet kiss, a small taste of what they had been doing until they were interrupted. They pull away, and stare into the other’s eyes, as if nothing else existed in that moment but them. Bonzo, sends a glance to Jonesy, who smirks at the couple, knowing exactly what was coming.

Bonzo sends a burst of frigid water at them, laughing uncontrollably as Layla, who had received the brunt of the splash, turns around, dripping hair plastered to the sides of her face.

“Oh, it’s on, Bonham.”

“Let’s go, Porter. ”

The two engage in a splash war of epic proportions, water flying everywhere. Jimmy and Jonesy dodge the tidal waves that jet towards them, as laughter bounces off the tiled walls. This was a reprieve from the bad luck that seemed to follow the band as of late.

It’s a shame it won’t last.

--------

taglist: @jimmys-zeppelin @salixfragilis @timetraveller4 @earthfire-75 @thatiloveyouso (let me know if you want to be added!)

[daveeddiggsit]

Broken, but Not Shattered

WIDEOUT MASTERLIST

Series: WIDEOUT (chpt vii)

Note: This took me so long to write. Partly bc I kept getting distracted from other projects, but partly bc it’s a hella long chapter. ANYWAYS, i really hope you enjoy. To me, it feels like a movie, but let me know your thoughts! Enjoy :)

Word Count: 10.1k

Pairing: Football Player!Thomas Jefferson x Reader

Warnings: injury. T has a panic attack at some point. poor T, he just needs a hug :( implied sex. angst. cursing. smooches. mental health struggle in wake of an incident. anxiety.

Summary: During your Senior year of high school, an unfortunate event happens during Thomas’ last football game of the regular season. Thomas gets pushed to his limits mentally and physically. How does your relationship fare in the wake of his injury?

Tagging: @coololdsoulpoetlove @wreakhavoconmacroissantdiggs @lilangeldevil006 @pana-ce-a​ @merrahonthawall @katierpblogg @thespianbooks @a-hopeless-fan @uniquelystarchildthedragon @wcreech @sabbrriiinnaa @imperial-martian @harpersmariano @icanneverbesatisfied @underthewillowtreerycb @i-know-i-can​

ELEVEN MONTHS LATER...

Your high school holds an annual tailgate before the final home football game of each season. This is the first time you are motivated (and excited) to attend the tailgate. The past three years, you’d decided to skip out, but due to this year being your Senior year (Thomas also may or may not have something to do with it), you partake in this year’s festivities along with the rest of the student body.

After the bell rings, dismissing everybody from their last class of the day, a sea of students migrates down to the football stadium. There, you and Maria discover food vendors of all sorts along with party games that are scattered around the perimeter of the stadium and in the parking lot. It almost feels like a carnival in a way, except there are no rides and you’re surrounded by a bunch of kids with a copious amount of school pride. 

You and your best friend have fun and roam around for some time, getting a bite to eat at a vendor here and there. Everyone around you is having a blast, whether they’re walking around in their friend groups or playing games.

Eventually, you and Maria go to get some ice cream, but on the way you run into Ellie, a cheerleader who also happens to be a Senior. You’ve gotten to know her well due to your now frequent presence at Panther Football games and because she’s in your English class. You also hear a lot about her from Maria, who probably spends more time photographing the cheerleader than the actual football games now since they’ve met. You notice that she speaks of Ellie while gushing about her beauty and intelligence extremely often; it’s safe to say that Maria has an immense crush on her.

“Oh, hey, guys! Nice to see you.” Ellie says with a smile, causing you and your best friend to stop walking.

Although the cheerleader has greeted you both, her gaze barely wavers from Maria, and suddenly you feel like you are intruding. That’s when you decide that it’s time to become Maria’s wingwoman.

“Hey!” You grin widely, looking between her and Maria. “Ellie! Maria was actually just talking about you.” Your best friend’s eyes widen at your lack of subtlety. 

“Really?” Ellie asks, her eyes brightening up as she turns her full attention to Maria who blushes slightly. 

She coughs lightly to try and cover it up before her eyes quickly flit over to you in a panic. You raise your eyebrows and use your hand to gesture her to go on.

“Oh, um…” Maria starts, pulling your gaze away from you and towards Ellie. “Yeah, El, I uh was…” She glances up at you again over Ellie’s shoulder and you point to the ice cream truck next to you and mouth, ‘get ice cream.’ “...wondering if you wanted to come and get some ice cream with me? Us. At the truck.”

You have never ever, in your seven years of best friendship, seen Maria act this nervous around a girl… let alone need your help to talk to someone she likes. There’s something about this Ellie girl that has turned Maria completely shy and you can’t help but gush at how cute the both of them are.

“Oh, yeah! I’d really like that.” Ellie says happily, causing Maria to grin. They both turn around to walk towards the ice-cream truck and Maria stops for a second, noticing that you’re not with them anymore.

“Y/N, are you coming?” She asks, slightly more comfortable now that Ellie’s accepted her offer. 

“No, you guys go. I just uh…” You try to think of an excuse when suddenly your phone vibrates, luckily giving you one. You glance down at it, seeing a text pop up from your boyfriend. “I just got a text from Thomas, so I should probably go meet him. You guys have fun, though!”

Ellie nods, saying, “We will! See you around, Y/N,” before gently grabbing Maria’s arm to lead her away. 

Beaming, Maria turns her head towards you and mouths, “thanks, love you.” You send her a wink and blow her a kiss, watching her walk away with her soon-to-be beau. This is the happiest you’ve seen her in a long time and you’re beyond excited to see her finally want to start dating someone again after her last breakup with her lying ex-boyfriend, Alexander.

Satisfied with your work, you turn to walk through the crowds of students and towards the underneath of the bleachers: the breathtakingly romantic spot Thomas has chosen for you to meet.

When you arrive, you don’t spot him for a second before you feel a pair of arms snake around your waist from behind. A familiar voice sounds next to your ear, causing you to shiver unintentionally. “You’re looking mighty cute today, princess. You come here often?”

You relax against the warm body behind you once you realize who the voice belongs to. A small smile spreads across your cheeks as you respond. “Under the bleachers? Nah. I’m only here because I’m waiting for my boyfriend.”

“Oh?” You can hear the smile in his voice as his arms wrap more snuggly around you. “Well, he must be a very lucky guy.”

You lean your head back against Thomas’ shoulder. “Yep. Extremely lucky, considering the fact that we’re both standing in the space where people do God knows what during games.”

He just laughs and nuzzles his face into your neck, his warm breath fanning out against you. He presses a few kisses there before his lips trail up to your cheek to press a chaste peck there as well. “I was wonderin’ how long it was gonna take for you to show up.” Thomas murmurs against your skin and your eyes flutter shut at the contact.

You muster up the strength to turn your body in his arms so that you can face him. Thomas is breathtakingly handsome as always, sporting his charcoal football jersey over a dark hoodie and a pair of black ripped jeans. He’s beaming and smiling down at you like you’re his whole world. 

“It wasn’t that long.” You roll your eyes with a lazy grin tugging at your lips. “I was hanging with Maria until we ran into Ellie, so I left them alone to come meet you.”

“Yeah? They together yet? They keep dancin’ around each other; one of them needs to make a move.”

You laugh at Thomas’ words. “Hey, you make it sound like it’s easy.”

“They’re so obviously into each other! They need to just confess their feelings and get together. Can’t be that difficult.” Thomas shrugs, looking down at you.

You just give him a pointed look. “You’re one to talk, Jefferson. Do you remember how nervous you were before our first kiss? Your hands were literally shaking…”

Thomas withdraws his touch from your waist and crosses his arms over his chest. He licks his lips and looks away for a second before he speaks. “Alright, alright, come on, now.” His deadpanned gaze shifts back to you, but the glint in his eyes is playful. “You still gonna hold that over me? It’s almost been a year.”

You splay your arms out innocently as your mouth falls open with a smile. “It was cute!”

“I was vulnerable, Y/N!” He responds dramatically with wide eyes. “I didn’t know what you were feeling. What if you’d rejected me?”

“Well, I didn’t.” You take a step closer to him, reaching your hands up to wrap around his forearms to pull his arms back down around you, but he doesn’t budge. Instead, you’re just standing there with your hands on his forearms as you two stare at each other. “T, I obviously didn’t reject you.”

“I know that now.” Thomas finally unfolds his arms and brushes his hands up your arms and down your body before they come to a stop at your waist again. He hugs you close to him before he speaks again. “But I wasn’t sure if you were even into me like that back then.”

You grin, looking up at him and settling your hands on his chest. “Exactly, so don’t blame El and M for not rushing things. Let them figure it out on their own.”

“Alright, point made, sweetheart, point made.” He laughs, rolling his eyes before staring down at you with a gaze that you can’t quite describe. It makes your breath catch in your throat and your heart swell. You can’t put your finger on it, but it’s soft but firm at the same time and it has a certain fondness to it that you can’t decipher — it’s like he’s sure of something, but doesn’t want to voice it. 

The comfortable silence between you stretches on as he continues to stare unabashedly. 

You grab a hold of the black polyester material of his jersey to pull him closer. “What?” You ask, breathing out a nervous laugh.

Thomas snaps out of his gaze by releasing a chuckle before he leans down, causing his face to near yours. His smile reaches his eyes and causes your heart to soar. “Nothin’... just—” His eyes flicker down to your lips for a split second. “You’re a good friend, baby.”

“Yeah?” You whisper, grinning as your noses brush against each other.

“Mhm.” He hums before he leans in to sweetly press his mouth to yours.

The kiss warms you up as his hands leave your waist to hold your face gently. Your fingers clutch his jersey tightly, pulling him against you as his lips slowly capture yours again and again, leaving you breathless.

Kissing Thomas never gets old; it’s always like a breath of fresh air. You revel in the sense of presence he creates every time you’re close to him. It’s relaxing, giving you a feeling of home and familiarity that only he can provide.

You two just stay there for a bit, hugging each other closely as the sounds of music and chatter from students can be heard in the distance. You’re content in his warm embrace, and he’s the only thing keeping you warm in the chilly Autumn weather.

Some time later, Thomas leads you out from under the bleachers to walk to the topside of them. You two sit at the front row towards the bottom of the vacant seats. Leaning your head against Thomas’ shoulder, you look out to the empty football field.

“So, a scout for W&M Football is gonna be at the game today.” Thomas voices softly, causing you to pull back enough to look him in the eye. “Coach said he’s been talking to him about me, so he flew out to watch me play in person.”

“Really? Holy shit, Thomas, that’s amazing.” You say, grinning and reaching a hand up to tenderly hold his cheek. “I’m proud of you, babe.”

He smiles and looks down bashfully before he gazes back at you. “Don’t get too ahead of yourself, sweetheart. Haven’t impressed the guy enough to get a scholarship yet.”

“Exactly. ‘Yet.’ You will, you know that.” You say, moving your hand back down to lightly nudge his arm. “You’re the most ‘confident’ guy I know.” You put air quotes around confident because that’s what Thomas dubs himself instead of letting himself get called cocky.

He laughs, shaking his head before he looks back out, squinting his eyes in the bright sunlight. The golden rays bring out the brown in his curls and eyes, making them a more honey shade. “That I am, I suppose.”

“You nervous?” You ask, watching him closely. As much as Thomas pegs himself the confident (and sometimes arrogant by others) one on the outside, you know that he’s still human and experiences times of unsureness.

“For the game or the scout?”

“Both.” You answer, shrugging, watching a golf cart fly by on the track in front of you.

Thomas glances back at you and momentarily admires the way the sunlight illuminates your face. A smile spreads across his lips before he responds. “To be honest? Not really.” He says, causing you to look at him with a raised eyebrow. “For the game? Not nervous at all. We beat Easton by 30 points last time we played them. And as far as the W&M scout goes, I am a bit nervous, but I know I should be fine as long as I play like I normally do.”

You chuckle, rolling your eyes. “Wow… and here I was thinking that Thomas Jefferson was turning a little modest on me.”

He just laughs, his gaze playful as he looks at you. “Never, darlin’. Can’t be unsure of myself when I got my girl on the sideline as my good luck charm.”

You grin and shake your head at him. “Well, for what it’s worth and not that you need any more words of encouragement — because you seem to have it all figured out,” You give him a pointed look that’s more teasing than anything serious. “I think you’re gonna be great today, T.” You say sweetly, perching your chin on his shoulder. 

Thomas’ grin brightens and he moves to place his lips gently on your forehead before he wraps an arm around your shoulders to pull you closer. He rests his head on top of yours as you both turn to watch the white lines on the turf get freshly painted over in preparation for the game later.

“Your words will always mean more to me than you think, sweetheart.” He says softly. 

⋆﹥ ━━━━━━━   ♛   ━━━━━━━﹤⋆

Maria shows up later than usual to the sideline to start setting up her gear. You can’t help but be slightly suspicious about her previous whereabouts and you wonder if it has to do with a certain cheerleader.

“Sooo…” You start off, the corner of your mouth twisting up into a knowing grin. “Where were you? Why’re you late?”

Maria just smiles bashfully as she starts to unpack her camera bag. “I’m getting some real Deja Vu from last year when you and Thomas got together, except now I’m in your shoes.”

You laugh, watching her as she blushes slightly and pauses her actions. “So, I’m guessing that you were with Ellie?” Maria nods, causing you to grin wider. “Are you guys official yet?”

You wait in anticipation as you stare at Maria who purses her lips before she looks away for a second. “I don’t know.” She mumbles.

“What?” You ask, your eyebrows knitting together in confusion. 

“I don’t know.” Maria repeats, looking back at you, shrugging her shoulders. 

“What do you mean you don’t know, Maria?”

“I mean, she kissed me… and then we got interrupted by something, and then we didn’t really talk about labeling ourselves or anything, but she said to meet her after the game, so… I don’t know.”

You think for a second. “Well, if she wants you to meet her after the game, that means she wants to talk to you, right? So, just ask her then.”

“Ask her what?”

“Are you serious?” You give her a pointed look, a small grin pulling at your lips. “Ask her to be your girlfriend, dummy. That’s what you want, right?”

Maria busies herself by cleaning the lens of her camera with a rag. “I just… don’t wanna mess this up, Y/N. That’s why I get so nervous around her. All my past relationships have been shitty and… I don’t want her to turn into another one. You get what I mean?”

You nod in understanding. “Yeah. Yeah, I get that, but hey,” you put a hand on her arm, causing her to look at you. “She’s different, though. You’ve said it before, and I can see it. I have a good feeling about this one… and I’m sure you do, too. I say go for it, M. I haven’t seen you this happy in a long time. You deserve to be happy.”

You pause for a second before you ramble on. “Not that being in a relationship solely constitutes happiness, but… you know what I mean.”

Maria just smiles and looks down for a second before she puts her camera down and hugs you tightly. “Thanks, Y/N. Really, it means a lot.” She mumbles against your shoulder and you squeeze her back just as tightly.

“Any time, M. It’s what I’m here for.” You say softly, rubbing her back. “You give me advice all the time, now it’s my turn. It’s a two-way street. We gotta support each other.”

“Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

Maria sighs when she pulls back from the hug. “Okay, I’m gonna ask her. After the game. If you’re cool with waiting around a little bit, I know I’m your ride home, so—”

You dismiss her worries with a wave of your hand. “Don’t worry about it, I’ll get T to drive me. I’m sure he won’t mind.”

“Yeah, but tonight was supposed to be Girls’ Night…”

“Don’t worry about it, Maria.” You stress with a smile. “We’ll reschedule. Promise. When the game ends, you go get your girl. Win or lose… no matter what, okay?”

Maria nods and takes in a deep breath.

“Okay. Promise.”

⋆﹥━━━━━━━   ♛   ━━━━━━━﹤⋆

Thomas was right earlier. Easton High School’s football team is not a great team. The game is a complete blowout with your home team beating their opponent 38-7 at halftime. You can tell that the other team is salty from some things you can hear them yelling on the opposite side of the field, but they really have no grounds to talk because of the fact that they’re getting beat so badly by Thomas’ team.

You were also right earlier. Thomas has been having a phenomenal game. It’s one of the best games you’ve seen him play thus far — he has three touchdowns and it’s only the beginning of the third quarter. 

Although Easton has the ball currently as they try to score, Thomas, Aaron, James, and the rest of his teammates standing on the sideline don’t seem fazed or worried at all. They’re all goofing around by laughing and making jokes with each other. At some point, Thomas even goes over to his position coach to ask for some Skittles and he gives him a handful.

You don’t even raise an eyebrow when you spot him with a handful of candy during games anymore. You’ve noticed him, James, and Aaron with them throughout the season and you have no desire to ask anymore.

It isn’t long before the Panthers’ defense stops Easton’s drive with an interception, allowing the ball to go back to the Panthers offense’s possession. You watch as Thomas scrambles to get on the field with his teammates after finishing the last of his candy. He’s lucky that his coach doesn’t see him chewing when he puts his helmet back on.

There’s still plenty of game left, and it looks like Coach Washington isn’t planning on backing down his offense just yet when he yells at them to score. He doesn’t plan on showing any mercy to the visiting team.

Thomas is on the side of the field closest to you, but he doesn’t notice because his focus is locked into the game now. You can hear him jawing off with his defender as they both line up at the line of scrimmage. If Thomas Jefferson is known for one thing on the field, it’s trash talking — especially if someone on the opposing team initiates it.

Jefferson keeps his composure as he riles his opponent up, enough for you to notice that the other guy is heated.

The ball is snapped, starting play and Thomas sprints ahead of his defender. The quarterback throws the ball in his direction and Thomas jumps up to catch it when suddenly he is tackled by his opponent before his fingers can even graze the football. It’s a dirty play to say the least, and this causes the home side of the stadium to erupt in massive boos. 

You yell in disgust at the hit along with Maria who stands besides you, but luckily Thomas is up on his feet in no time and yelling in the face of his defender. James runs up to separate him so that he doesn’t get a personal foul.

The refs throw their flags and call a ‘pass interference’ penalty, which satisfies the home team and their fans. It’s not long before both teams go to the new line of scrimmage, which is much closer to the end zone now.

Play starts again and Thomas swiftly runs towards the end zone while faking out his defender once again. He’s able to catch the ball this time and sprints far ahead of the opponents of the other team. He slows down right before he gets to the end zone and tauntingly waves at the defender who tackled him in the previous play.

Next, everything feels like it’s slow motion. 

Right before Thomas crosses the goal line, two of the defenders from the other team dive to tackle him from behind and you can hear the impact of their bodies hitting him from your position on the sideline. One of the tacklers comes up short and lands on Thomas’ left ankle, causing it to buckle while Thomas falls down along with it in the end zone. 

The entire stadium erupt into cheers at the touchdown, unaware of the damage done to the star wide receiver. The defenders stand up and are pushed back by their teammates. Seconds pass by and gradually, the cheers start to die down as Thomas still lies face-down on the turf, his left hand weakly reaching towards his left ankle. 

He’s not getting up.

Your heart begins to beat rapidly in your chest as panic starts to rise. Oh… oh no.

“Come on, baby. Come on. Get up.” You whisper under your breath. “You’re okay, Tommy. Please get up.”

Slowly, Thomas is able to get himself on his hands and knees, but it’s not without him yelping in pain. Your heart breaks for him.

James sprints and is crouched on the ground by Thomas’ side in no time. He puts a comforting hand on his back and you can see him talking to him, asking him if he’s okay. After a few seconds, James turns towards the sideline and signals for a trainer to go to them. Thomas slowly turns over so that he lies on his back with help from James and you can see his body writhe in pain as he reaches for his lower left leg again.

There’s an eerie quiet that blankets the stadium now. You don’t like it. You hate how a place filled with sounds of happiness and joy could morph into a space almost completely stripped of sound period — filled with emptiness and despair instead at the drop of a dime.

Now all the players on the field take a knee for Thomas as he’s slowly helped up by his teammates and the team trainers. They lead him to a golf cart where he sits, clutching at his left ankle. His helmet is still on, and you can’t see his face through his visor, but you know that he’s hurting beneath the mask as he hangs his head.

One of the defenders who tackled him has his helmet off now as he goes to apologize to Thomas. The guilt and regret is evident in his face that he caused something so detrimental to happen to a fellow athlete — because that’s all they are at the end of the day: athletes. They all play the same sport; ultimately, it doesn’t matter which team they play for. They’re all just doing what they love: playing football. And nobody deserves to have that be stripped away from them at the blink of an eye.

The forever silence is now broken as claps can be heard from everyone, showing sportsmanship and solidarity for Thomas and his injury as he’s driven off the field and towards the main building where the locker rooms are.

“Y/N…” Maria says softly next to you, and you finally notice that your hand has been placed over your mouth in shock for the past five minutes. “I’m so sorry.”

“I…” You start out, but your voice is wobbly. A single tear runs down your cheek and you wipe it away and sniffle as you try to stay strong. “What do I do?”

You have to stay strong for Thomas, but you feel helpless. You don’t know where to go, who to talk to. Are you allowed to go and see him in the locker room or do you wait until the game ends? Do you call his parents or will his coach take care of that? How bad is the injury? Is Thomas going to be okay?

You’re interrupted from your thoughts when the rest of the Panthers offense comes off the field. James stops when he reaches you.

“He needs you, Y/N.” He says, taking off his helmet. James looks just as worried as you feel. “It’s not looking good… and he’s gonna need someone to lean on. I know him, and with his parents gone in LA and the team still playing out the rest of the game… he shouldn’t be alone right now. He may act big and tough on the field in front of everyone, but you know how T is. He needs support.”

You nod slowly and sniffle before taking a deep breath. You look towards Maria and she nods at you, saying, “Go to him, Y/N.”

“Okay.” You whisper, looking between the two of them. “Okay.”

⋆﹥━━━━━━━   ♛   ━━━━━━━﹤⋆

Your mind races as you wait outside the trainer’s room where Thomas is getting treated by the team doctor. On your way inside, you went to the locker room to retrieve Thomas’ backpack per the request of one of the trainers standing in the hallway outside the medical room.

Despite it feeling like hours, it isn’t long before the team physician comes out of the room, causing you to perk up as you lean against the wall. The doctor whispers to the trainer and you pick up snippets of their conversation from your position next to the door.

“...has to go to the hospital for an x-ray… lots of swelling… unclear whether it’s fractured or a ruptured achilles.”

After they finish speaking, you ask if you can go in. They nod, and the doctor tells you that Thomas is being unresponsive to any questions that are being asked of him. The doctor asks you to break the news of a hospital visit being necessary tonight, and just like that you feel like you have a huge weight on your shoulders. But you don’t care because right now, you just want to see Thomas and make sure that he’s okay, so you just nod before you enter the room quickly with Thomas’ bag in your hands.

When you enter, you see Thomas on an exam table in a corner of the room. He’s just sitting there, both of his legs hanging off the table, his newly injured ankle out of his cleat and wrapped in ice to reduce the swelling. He still has his shoulder pads on and grass stains are evident on his dark uniform. He doesn’t notice you come in because his head is buried in his gloved hands.

You set his bag down, next to the door entrance and carefully make your way towards him. As you get closer, you can see his shoulders rise and fall with each shaky breath he takes. Gently, you place a hand on his arm, causing him to jump slightly.

“Hey, T. It’s okay, baby, it’s just me.” You say softly, tilting your head a little bit to make eye contact with him through his fingers. Slowly, he drops both of his hands to his lap, revealing his face to you. He looks like a ghost of his normal confident, cheery self. There are bags under his red eyes and you can tell that he is utterly exhausted.

But still, at the sight of you, Thomas’ lips twinge up into a sad smile (he doesn’t hide his distress as well as he thinks) as he reaches out to graze his fingers against your cheek. 

“Hi, sweetheart.” He says, half-heartedly. He’s happy to see you, he really is, but his tone is dampened by the pain he is feeling. “What’re you doin’ in here? You should be out cheerin’ and havin’ fun with everyone else.” His voice is quiet, and you wonder if it’s because he’s afraid it will break if he speaks any louder.

“T, if you think I come to these games to hang with the rest of the team, you’re wrong. I come for you because I… I wanna support you.” You say earnestly, searching both of his eyes with yours.

At your words, he sends you a half-smile that turns into a grimace when his ankle throbs again. Thomas pats the space next to him, signaling for you to sit. You do, and immediately you notice his fidgeting and trembling hands that lay in his lap, still gloved from the game.

“Let’s get these off, yeah?” You say quietly, carefully reaching for his palms to place them in your lap. Your fingers gingerly undo the strap to each of his gloves and you peel them off his hands one by one before you place them neatly next to you.

When you’re done, Thomas’ right hand gently grabs one of yours and wordlessly laces your fingers together. He presses a warm kiss to the back of your hand as a silent thank you. Silence stretches between you two for a little while as you just sit there, your thumb rubbing reassuring circles on the back of his hand.

“How’re you feeling?” You ask softly. You’re sure he has a million thoughts running through his mind, but you’re not sure how much more of this he can take before it finally sinks in and hits him.

“It hurts...” He says, releasing a shaky breath. You squeeze his hand in reassurance, letting him know your support wordlessly. While he’s been quiet since you’d walked into the room, your question unintentionally prompts Thomas to start pouring out his thoughts at rapid speed. 

“And… an— and I don’t know if it’s broken or not. Or if I’ll be able to play football this season, or ever again for that matter. I… I do think it’s broken, though. I’ve had sprains and they’ve never hurt like this.”

You can hear his breathing start to quicken as he continues to ramble.

“I don’t know what I’m gonna do. What if this ends my career, Y/N? I can’t end my high school career like this. All my plans for the future: gone. What about scholarships? I wanted to be in the NFL like my dad. How am I supposed to get drafted by the Giants if I can’t— if I can’t play college ball?” He shakes his head at the mention of his father as his voice darkens slightly. “And speaking of my dad, why aren’t my parents here when I fucking need them? I fucking do everything for them and they can’t be here when I actually need them? They went to a charity event in LA instead of my last regular season game when they knew a scout would be watching tonight. Oh my god, the scout. What if—”

“Hey, hey, hey, it’s gonna be okay, T. Just breathe. You’re not alone in this.” You bring your other hand up to his cheek to turn his face towards you to make eye contact with him. You look at him firmly and tell him, “You’re going to be okay, babe. Let’s just take it one step at a time, one play at a time, just like Coach says, right?”

You vaguely remember Thomas telling you one night that Coach Washington lives by the ‘one play at a time’ code, which basically means taking things, in life and in football, one step at a time. 

Fortunately, you see Thomas visibly begin to calm down from your words. It’s heartbreaking to see him have a panic attack like this; all you want is for him to feel better, so you continue to talk, letting your voice soothe him.

“Let’s just stay positive and focus on the next step right now, babe. And right now, that next step is getting you to a hospital so that we can get that ankle x-rayed. Okay? We can do that, right?”

Thomas takes in deep breaths, his breathing slowly turning back to normal. After searching your eyes, he exhales heavily and drops his head before he squeezes his eyes shut. 

“Yeah, we can do that.” He murmurs, so soft you can barely hear it. He starts to shake his head before he speaks again. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I don’t want you seein’ me like this. I’m a fucking mess. And I know this isn’t how we planned today would go.”

“T, you’re allowed to have emotions. I don’t care if you’re a mess, I want to know that you’re okay. I’m your girlfriend. I’m here for you always. Not just when you win games.”

Thomas licks his lips and nods before he looks at you; his gaze is full of gratefulness and admiration, but the sorrow is still clearly evident. His mouth opens as if he’s going to say something, but hesitates and thinks better of it. Instead, he leans over to hug you closely against his side (as best as he can with his shoulder pads still on).

“Thank you, baby. You have no idea how much that means to me… how much you being here means to me.”

With the way Thomas has always treated you and the way he’s acting now, you feel like you do have an idea, though. He’s always shown you so much care and expressed how grateful he is through his actions every day. You know that you mean as much to him as he does to you… and that’s saying something.

You two stay like that for some time, but you know that you eventually have to pull away to follow the team physician’s orders and get him to the hospital. Slowly and gently, you pull back from his embrace and reach up to give Thomas a chaste kiss, it’s quick but reassuring at the same time.

“Okay, Tommy, let’s get these shoulder pads off you and get you to the hospital, yeah?”

⋆﹥━━━━━━━   ♛   ━━━━━━━﹤⋆

Fractured.

That is the word that sticks out most amidst the countless thoughts that swirl around Thomas’ head.

The hospital visit was surprisingly quick — in and out, resulting in Thomas leaving with crutches and a magenta cast on his left ankle. 

His parents had called while he was in the waiting room with you and Danté, his trainer from the team (some adult supervision had to be involved even though you and Thomas are 18). His father had told him that they’d be on the first flight out of LAX and back home first thing tomorrow morning. Both of his parents are worried about him (his mother is more vocal about it than his father) especially after Thomas called them back up to tell them the results of his x-rays. 

While he had felt his anxiety ignite again and spread throughout his chest at the news of his fractured ankle, he’d stayed strong in front of his family, the doctor, his trainer, and you. He took the news like a champ on the outside, but on the inside, he kept feeling like he could barely keep it together.

That’s where he is now: sitting silently in the passenger seat of his Mustang, trying to keep his emotions in check as you drive him home from the hospital. It’s not the first time you’ve driven his car, and while he’d normally make a charming comment about you looking extremely attractive driving the Mustang, he stays quiet. The repetitions of the doctor’s words still ring in Thomas’ mind, hindering him from acting anything like his usual self… and he hates it. He hates the effect that one word has on him.

Fractured. Fractured. Fractured.

“As you can see, your fibula is fractured right here above the lateral malleolus. Luckily, the bone isn’t displaced, so we’re gonna treat this as a…” 

After hearing the word he’s dreaded most, Thomas zones out and gets lost in thought as he mindlessly watches the doctor point to various areas on the x-ray.

“...don’t think surgery will be necessary; however, we do believe a cast is imperative. This does mean that there will be no physical activity, of any sort, for at least six to eight weeks. Do I make myself clear?”

Thomas doesn’t respond, staring blankly at the man in the white coat in front of him.

“Did you hear what I said, Mr. Jefferson?” The doctor asks more sternly, and Thomas snaps out of it. He stares up at the physician, his eyes more alert. 

“Yeah, Doc.” He says halfheartedly. He sounds so drained of energy, so unlike his usual self. “Loud and clear.”

Everything the doctor had told him at the hospital hadn’t exactly been a surprise; in fact, it’s exactly what Thomas had predicted. His ankle is broken and he won’t be able to play football for six to eight weeks… and that terrifies him. 

His high school football career is officially over… and he won’t get to finish out the playoff season with his teammates.

The silence in the car stretches on and when you get to the familiar road that leads to Thomas’ house, you sneak a glance over at him. He’s staring out the window and you are aware of the fact that he hasn’t spoken since he was released from the hospital. You can only imagine the whirlwind of thoughts going through his mind right now and your heart once again breaks for him.

You take your right hand off the steering wheel to gently lace your fingers with his, giving him a comforting squeeze to signify your reassurance. He squeezes back weakly, giving you a good indication at where he is mentally. You don’t want to poke or prod him, so you allow the silence to linger in the space between you two until you finally reach his home.

Once you pull into his garage and close it behind you, you go to release Thomas’ hand and get out of the car, but he tightens his hold on your fingers, preventing you from going anywhere. 

“T, babe, you gotta let me go so I can grab your stuff.” You say gently, letting the driver's side door fall shut after having already opened it. He’s still blankly staring out the side window when you turn to him. Thomas reluctantly lets go of your hand and you take that as an okay for you to get out. 

You walk over to the passenger's side of the car to grab his crutches out of the back seat. With his crutches in your grasp, you go to open his door. He quickly wipes at his left eye before he slowly turns his body and swings his legs so that he faces your direction. His magenta wrapped ankle rests carefully against the concrete floor of the garage. Thomas eventually looks up at you, revealing his red eyes and tear-filled gaze.

“Hey…” You murmur, jumping to quickly take action, seeing Thomas clearly in a state of distress. You lean the crutches against the side of the Mustang before you move to caress his cheek. 

Thomas just looks down and wipes at his eyes before clearing his throat. “I’m fine.” He croaks, his voice breaking and wavering as he sucks in a shaky deep breath.

He moves to stand up, but your hands go to press down firmly on his shoulders. Thomas doesn’t seem to protest or resist against your touch as he stays seated with his feet still planted on the concrete. You shake your head at him as you try to catch his teary gaze.

“You’re clearly not fine, T.” You voice softly as you step into the open space between his legs. You bring your hands up to hold his face gently. “Look, we don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, but please, Tommy, don’t…” You pause, searching for the right words, “don’t hold it all in. You don’t need to be a big tough guy in front of me. I know you.” 

A single tear rolls down his cheek as his resolve starts to slowly break. You tenderly wipe it away with your thumb as you gaze into his watering eyes. 

“It’s okay to cry, babe.”

And then, the last of his walls come tumbling down. Thomas lets his tears fall freely now as his face contorts into a sob. Your eyebrows furrow in concern as his composure crumples. You pull him to you as he ducks his head to bury his face in the material of your sweater.

It’s the first time you’ve seen Thomas cry and all you want to do is be there for him and comfort him to make him feel better — to make all his pain disappear.

You just stand there, one hand holding his head to you and the other rubbing comforting circles on his back to soothe him. You can feel his body shake with each sob as you try your best to console him and work him through it, occasionally murmuring reassuring words to him.

It pains you to see him like this. All you can do is embrace him and let the torrent of his tears soak through your sweater. You could feel him clutch at the fabric from the back of your sweater as he hugs you tightly to him, like he’s grasping at the only thing — the only person — keeping him above water at the moment. He holds onto you because you’re the one saving him from sinking into the depths of his negative thoughts and anxiety.

Thomas clenches his fists again and again, not knowing whether to be angry (at his parents, at the guy who tackled him, at himself) or to give up all hope. You can hear his irregular breathing as he whimpers against you. Gently, you run your hand over his curls, time and time again, in an attempt to calm the silent war within his mind. 

You stay like that for a while, soothing him as he lets out all of his pent up emotions. Over time, he gradually calms down, his breathing slowly returning back to a normal rhythm. Only the sounds of your and Thomas’ breathing can be heard as a tranquil quiet blankets the room.

Eventually, Thomas finally pulls back from you, eyes closed and he takes in a deep breath. It’s still slightly shaky, but he’s much better than the state he was in before.

You use your sleeve to gingerly wipe up the leftover tears that had wet his face. When you're done, both of your hands cup his cheeks as his eyes flutter back open. You send him a soft smile when you catch his gaze.

“There he is.” You whisper, letting your thumbs lightly caress his skin. “Hi, babe.”

He purses his lips before he responds, noticing the huge wet stain on the front of your sweater. “Shit, sweetheart. Sorry for fucking up your shirt.”

“Don’t worry ‘bout it, T. Just means that I can steal another one of your hoodies.” 

That causes Thomas to crack a watery grin, and it’s the first time you’ve seen him smile in hours. Unfortunately, it doesn’t last long because his expression returns to a serious one in a matter of just a few seconds.

“Thank you, Y/N.” He murmurs before sniffing; his gratefulness is evident in his gaze, but it’s accompanied by a hint of fatigue as well. “Really. Thank you so much, baby. For being here. Supporting me. I… I needed that.”

“Of course, I’m here, T. I’ll always be here, okay?” You say, watching him slowly nod. After a few moments you speak again. “How’re you feeling? Better?”

He shrugs, looking up at you tiredly. “A little. I still feel like shit, but at least I don’t feel like I’m about to explode.” 

“Yeah, please don’t hold your feelings in like that, anymore. I really don’t wanna see my boyfriend explode because he’s ‘too manly to cry.’” You drop your hands from his face to form air quotes on the tail end of your sentence.

“Noted.” He breathes out a small laugh. Warmth blossoms in your chest as you watch him slowly turn back into his normal self. “Also, I feel gross and I’m in desperate need of a shower, so that’s not helping my mood right now, either.”

You grin at him. “Well, that can definitely be arranged once we get you outta this car.”

The small smile returns on Thomas’ face as you open the car door a little further, so that it’s open as wide as it can go. “That’s usually my job.” He says, causing you to raise an eyebrow as you grab ahold of his crutches once again.

“What?” You ask, watching Thomas rise as he slowly gets out of his car.

He grunts as he balances on his right foot and you hand him his crutches. When he situates himself and regains balance, he responds, nodding at the car door. “You opened the door for me earlier. That’s supposed to be my job, princess.”

You grin and roll your eyes, shutting the car door behind him as he moves forward towards the door to his house. “Yeah, well now it’s my turn to return the favor and treat you like a prince… especially given the current situation.”

You grab his backpack from the trunk of the Mustang as Thomas throws the door to his home open.

“Oh, you already do, darling.” He says over his shoulder before you follow him in.

When you get inside the house, you leave his bag by the door at Thomas’ request and drop his keys on the counter in the kitchen. Before Thomas goes to shower, he joins you in the kitchen and heats up (he insists on being the one to do it because he’s ‘not completely helpless’) some leftover macaroni in the microwave for you both as a late dinner. He’s starving after having played a game and gone through as much emotional and physical trauma as he did.

Halfway through your meal, you feel your phone vibrate repeatedly in your pocket. You realize you’ve forgotten about it for hours, having been worrying constantly about your boyfriend’s mental and physical health. You dig your phone out of your jeans to see your brother Erik calling you.

You glance over at Thomas who is nose deep in his dinner before you accept the call.

“Hello?”

“Y/N, finally, Jesus. Where are you? Why weren’t you responding to my texts?”

“I’ve been busy, tonight’s been a crazy night, okay?” You glance over at Thomas who’s now looking up at you from his food with an eyebrow raised. You mouth ‘Erik’ and he nods, returning to eat. “Thomas got injured at the game today. It was bad. Had to drive him to the hospital and everything.”

“Shit, man.” Erik says on the other line, sounding worried. He and Thomas had surprisingly gotten along well with each other since you two started dating. They play Madden with each other occasionally when Erik’s back in town, so you know they’ve created some sort of friendship/brotherly bond. “Are you still there? At the hospital?”

“No, we’re at his place now. Just got here. Eating dinner.” You say before you glance at Thomas who’s staring down at his food now. There’s no way you’re leaving him alone here overnight. “Listen, E, can you please do me a huge favor and cover for me? Just tell Mom and Dad I’m staying at Maria’s for the night. I can’t just leave T alone in an empty house when he just broke his ankle.”

“Broken ankle — Jesus, that’s rough.” Erik is quick to respond. “But, yeah, sis, I got you. You’ve covered for me plenty of times.”

You let out a sigh of relief, happy that you’ll have your parents off your back now. “Thanks, Erik.”

“So, how’s Thomas taking the news? Is he good to talk?”

You pull the phone away from your ear to ask Thomas if he wants to speak to your brother on the phone. You say Erik’s worried about him and he nods. You hand the phone to him and watch him as he holds it up to his ear.

“Yo, what’s up, E?” Thomas greets; his voice sounds tired, but he sounds more like himself now. “I’ve been better. Hanging in there, I guess.”

You continue to eat the rest of your dinner as Thomas and Erik talk.

“Yeah, fractured actually. Doc said a bunch of scientific stuff, but I wasn’t really listening. I just know that I can’t finish out the season.” Thomas is quiet, staring down at the kitchen counter until he chuckles at something Erik says. “Yeah, there’ll always be Madden, bro. Just bummed because I wanna be on the cover one day and I can’t do that when I’m injured and at risk of losing scholarship opportunities.”

He listens to Erik’s words before he looks over at you, a small smile pulls at the corner of his lips. “Yeah, I know. She’s been with me all night since it happened. Honestly, I don’t know what’d I’d be doing right now without her. You’re sister’s a real one, bro. Y/N’s a life saver.”

You smile at him sweetly as he watches you with a soft glint in his eyes.

“Yeah, no, you won’t have to worry about that, trust me.” He breathes out a short laugh. “Alright, bro, I’ll catch you later.” He’s quiet for a few seconds as Erik responds. “I will. You, too. Alright, bye.”

Thomas hangs up and hands the phone back to you.

“You guys good?” You ask, putting your phone back in your pocket.

Thomas nods, finishing up the last of his dinner. “We’re good. Erik’s a good dude.”

“You sure, bro?” You tease, a grin tugging at your lips. “Why do you say ‘bro’ every other sentence when you’re talking to my bro, bro?” 

By now, you know that Thomas code switches when he talks to his friends versus when he’s with you, but you can’t help but try to cheer him up by poking fun at him.

“Leave me alone, bro. That’s just the way I talk to all the bros, you wouldn’t understand.” He rolls eyes, a hint of a grin showing up on his face.

You laugh, shaking your head. You pick up your and Thomas’ plates and walk them over to the sink. “Just messin’ around, T. Givin’ you a hard time.” 

“Yeah, bro, give the injured guy a hard time, because that’s a good idea.” Thomas deadpans. As put off as Thomas tries to act, he can’t stay pretend mad at you for long. After all, your attempt at lifting his mood and pushing him back towards his normal self is working.

“Okay, alright, lesson learned. Don’t make me feel guilty.” You voice before you walk back over to Thomas, chuckling in the process. “And stop calling me ‘bro.’ I like ‘sweetheart’ more.”

You send him a smile before you give him a quick peck on the lips.

“Alright. Noted, sweetheart.” Thomas murmurs with a lazy grin when you pull back.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━   ♛   ━━━━━━━﹤⋆

Thomas doesn’t shower without making an offhand joke about you joining him. This time, he blames it on the fact that he’s ‘damaged goods’ and needs help undressing and that you’re really talented at that.

And although you roll your eyes and shove a trash bag at him so that he can cover his cast, you’re genuinely happy to see him bantering with you and joking around like he does normally. You know this injury is going to impact him immensely in the long run, both physically and mentally, but seeing him smile and joke around after pouring his heart out to you earlier in the garage really makes you extremely proud that he is holding his head high.

When you make sure that Thomas is all set to shower, you tell him to yell if he is actually in genuine need of your help. He says that he’ll be fine.

You make your way back to his room and get yourself comfortable. Although the tear stains on your sweater are now dry, you still go to Thomas’ closet to pick out one of his hoodies to sleep in. You also slip on some pajama shorts you’d left there from the last time you stayed over. It’s not your first time spending the night at Thomas’; the night of homecoming was… a lot of fun to say the least. And Thomas makes it a habit to sneak you into his room almost weekly, so you’ve resorted to leaving an extra change of clothes in his room just in case.

Finally comfortable in your new change of clothes, you fall back onto Thomas’ bed with a tired sigh before you grab your phone to check your messages. You see that you have a bunch of unread texts from Erik, Maria, and James.

Dismissing the texts from Erik because you just talked to him on the phone, you open the texts from James. He tells you that the Panthers won the game and that he and the rest of the team are worried about T. He also asks how Thomas is doing because he’s not answering his texts.

You respond, telling him about the fracture and that Thomas is taking it hard, but he’s staying strong and doing better now.

Then, you open the texts from Maria.

Maria (8:35pm): Hey, hope T’s doing okay

Maria (8:36pm): Hope YOU’RE okay too

Maria (9:07pm): Game’s over. Gonna go do the thing we talked about bc I made a promise, wish me luck

Y/N (11:13pm): hey, sorry M. haven’t really been checking my phone all night. T’s okay. broken ankle and he’s really bummed, but he’ll be okay. i’m doing okay too. being with T and seeing that he’s gonna be ok makes me worry a bit less

Y/N (11:13pm): but how’d the thing go?? please tell me it went well. u and ellie would b so cute together

Maria (11:15pm): No worries luv. Glad you and thomas are alright. Whole team was pretty shaken on the sideline after yall left. it was mad quiet even tho we were winning. And ellie was worried too.

Maria (11:16pm): Speaking of… the thing went well and I have a girlfriend now. Her name is ellie.

Y/N (11:16pm): omg congrats! beyond happy for u guys.

Y/N (11:16pm): T’s gonna be happy af lol when he finds out

Maria (11:18pm): Yeah now he can leave me tf alone about it every time he sees me

Y/N (11:19pm): lmao he was just tired of seeing yall circle around each other even tho u clearly had feelings for each other. i was too tbh

Y/N (11:19pm): but glad you guys are official now. you guys are ADORABLE together. i want all the details next time i see you, k?

Maria (11:20pm): I’ll give ALL the details on Monday lol. Promise.

Y/N (11:20pm): can’t wait 

You grin at your phone, genuinely happy for Maria and Ellie. Then, you hear the bathroom door open and Thomas’ crutches sound from down the hall, each sound getting louder as he nears the bedroom.

When Thomas gets to the doorway, you sit up, directing your gaze to him. “I’m guessing you didn’t need help showering after all?” You ask, giving him a once over. He’s wearing shorts and no shirt. Some water droplets still linger on the muscles of his biceps and toned torso, like he was lazy to fully dry himself with his towel.

“Guess not.” He says with a shrug, making his way over to the bed. He sits down on his side, making himself comfortable by laying down, sighing in content as he does so. “Would have definitely been more entertaining had you joined, though.”

“I’m sure it would have.” You muse with a grin, sitting up crossing your feet under you. You decide to tell Thomas the news Maria texted you. “So, Maria and Ellie are dating now.”

Thomas smiles as he laces his fingers behind his head as he relaxes back on his pillow. “Yeah? ‘Bout time.”

“Yep. Also, James texted me. He said that y’all won the game and that he and the team wish you well. He wants you to text him back.”

“Eh, I’ll text him back tomorrow morning. I’m too exhausted right now.” He says, closing his eyes for a second. “But thanks for relaying the message, baby. Glad we won.”

You nod at him before moving off the bed to close his door and turn off the lights. When you get back in bed, Thomas speaks again.

“You know? On the phone, Erik said ‘no funny business,’ but honestly? Not like we haven’t done anythin’ in this bed already…”

Your jaw drops at his suggestive words and although they’re true, you push his shoulder lightly anyway. “Thomas!”

He chuckles softly, looking at you as you slip under the blankets with him. “It’s the truth.”

“I know but doesn’t mean you should say it like that.”

He smiles, but it doesn’t fully reach his eyes. You can tell he’s still hurting deep inside. Thomas being alone with his thoughts in the shower must have gotten to him. You shift closer to him and he rests his head on your chest as you gently thread your fingers into his hair to massage his scalp.

“Are you okay?” You ask softly as you feel him rise and fall with every breath.

It’s an honest question that you’ve been wanting to know the answer to all night. His breathing is even and calm as he ponders his next words. 

“You want the truth?” Thomas asks after a minute of silence. 

“Always, T.”

Thomas wedges his arms under you to wrap them around your torso. He’s quiet for a few more seconds until he speaks again, his voice small. 

“I’m scared, baby.”

You think about your next words carefully before you speak. “I think that’s normal, T. It’s okay to be scared.”

“Do you know how many careers end after an injury like mine?” He asks quietly, the vibrations of his voice reverberating on your chest. “I mean, I know the doc said I’d be better in six to eight weeks, but… who knows if I’ll be the same player? If I’ll be good enough again.”

“You will be.”

“What about college offers? What if no team wants me because of this fracture? Then, I won’t be able to market myself enough to go pro like my dad and I... I don’t think I could live with that, Y/N.”

“Hey, remember what I said in the locker room? One step at a time, baby. The NFL is a long way in the future, okay? Right now? Focus on healing yourself. Offers will come, but give them time. It’s still the beginning of the school year; you have time. You’re gonna get through this and you’re gonna be playing football again in no time. It’s probably gonna be a little difficult, but I know you can do it.”

You pull back to hold his face gently and look into his eyes which hold confliction within them once more. You can see the fear in them, the worry, and the flurry of emotions that he’s going through every second.

“You know why, T?” When Thomas shakes his head slightly, you continue. “Because you are Thomas Jefferson: the strongest guy I know. And I know that you won’t let anything get in the way of you achieving your goals.”

Silence stretches in the air for a few moments as your words sink in.

“And, T?” You start again before you give him a gaze that lets him know that you are absolutely sure of the next words you’re about to say. “Just know that I’ll be proud of you no matter what. I’m already proud of you and the person you are.”

He purses his lips, holding himself together as he closes his eyes and leans forward to press his forehead to yours tenderly. His grip around your waist shakes slightly as he holds you tightly to him, as if he’s afraid you’ll let go.

Thomas cherishes moments like these with you — the fleeting moments where being with you gives him a sense of calm and peace. It’s night and day compared to the chaos he has to endure during practices and games with yelling coaches, teammates, and fans. 

He loves football, though — he truly does. It’s been a constant in his life since the day he was brought into the world. Football has always been like his third parent; it’s taught him discipline, perseverance, and the importance of teamwork/family. Most of his crowning achievements thus far have been attributed to football and it’s something that he wants to stay in his life for the long-term future. Despite the fact that the sport has put him through more physical and mental pain than anything else, he’s still found a place for it in his heart.

But with you… with you Thomas has come to discover a different type of love. One that’s unconditional, unbreaking, and unforgiving. It’s the type of love that has him watching you with admiration at the most random moments. A certain kind of love that has him leaving home earlier in the mornings to pick you up from your house on his way to school just so he can spend a few extra minutes with you. It’s a love where he has completely, willingly given you his heart to do with as you please without him even really noticing. 

So when you show Thomas your unconditional support by telling him that you believe in him, he cherishes that more than he would any compliment from a coach or recruiter.

As he sits here, with your hands in his hair and his forehead pressed against yours, feeling the warmest and most comfort he’s ever felt (despite the fact that he’s injured) — three little words pop up in his mind for what seems like the millionth time today amidst all the bad things he went through.

Not wanting to succumb to the stereotypes of teenage relationships where those three little words are thrown around like nothing, you and Thomas had elected early in your relationship that neither of you would say it until one is absolutely sure of it. Right now, Thomas has never been more sure of anything in his life. That’s when those three little words finally make their way to the tip of his tongue. And before he knows it, those words come tumbling out as a soft, breathless whisper.

“I love you.” He says, his eyes fluttering open so that he can firmly hold your gaze to let you know that he genuinely means it.

Thomas brings his slightly shaking hands up to gently press them against your cheeks so he can hold your face. He pulls back slightly and his eyes search yours. His voice is the most confident it’s been all night, but he doesn’t let it get louder than a murmur. “You don’t have to say it back. You don’t have to say anything, actually. I just want you to know that—”

“I love you, too, Thomas.” You whisper, cutting him off. “If it wasn’t obvious from my little speech before.”

Your words cause both you and Thomas to breathe out a quiet laugh as you hold one another. After a few moments, he leans in to press his warm lips to yours in a soft kiss.

When he pulls away, he hugs you close to him and the sound of each of your deep breaths soothe each other as you both edge closer towards sleep. This is the most tranquil Thomas has felt in a long time and he embraces the feeling fully. He doesn’t think about anything else for once. Just you and your presence and the sound of your even breathing.

It’s not long before both of you fall asleep in each other’s arms.

[craftypeaceturtle]

Zuko and Turtleducks

Summary: 4 memories ruined and 1 memory where they swear to make new memories.

Note: I’m not quite sure about this one. I wrote it awhile ago and still feel that it’s good writing but I think it would’ve made it soooo much better if I did this format as a series for every character of the gaang. Maybe I will if I feel the motivation. There is no shipping, just Aang and Zuko friendship. 

Warning of implied child neglect and hospital scene but no graphic detail. 

.

Plodding down the hall, Zuko swung his arms wildly as he peered down all the open rooms and hallways. There were a few people calmly walking around and all bowed as he passed them. Mama told him to smile when they did so but his attention was elsewhere. It was a super sunny day. There had to be something to do. Anything! He was beyond bored. Lu Ten must be around here somewhere. He paused at the doorway that opened into the little courtyard. 

His mama and his new baby sister were sitting there with their backs facing him. 

 An evil grin blossomed on his face. 

Ursa closed her eyes tiredly with a chuckle. She subtly turned her head to see her little doofus of a son taking wide long tip toeing steps towards them. He was giggling frantically as he crept up to them. Azula had finally settled down and was slapping at the grass with a contented gurgle. The peace seemed gorgeous compared to the late sleepless night of a crying whiny Azula. She really didn’t want to upset her by letting Zuko sneak up on them and cause a fuss. 

But that didn’t mean she couldn’t have fun either...

 She waited, poised carefully to look nonchalant. Zuko was now only another step away...

 And she immediately whipped around and pulled him to her chest with her own evil cackle. Zuko squealed before flailing his little chubby arms as she peppered millions of kisses across his cheeks. “Mama!” He finally tumbled out of her grasp and she laughed as he slumped over happily into her lap. 

“Hello Zuko,” She cooed at him.

“Hello mama! What you doing?” Zuko smiled up at her before finally pulling himself back upright. Azula was still entirely focused on pulling up fistfuls of grass, only sparing her brother a pat on his knee. 

“We were going to feed the turtleducks,” She replied pulling out a squashed loaf of bread, ripping it into thirds to hand to them. Zuko immediately fumbled over to the pond edge and she was already regretting getting an excitable toddler and an easily upset baby to feed the turtleducks. “Easy there, you don’t want to fall in now. Make sure to make small chunks. They only have small little beaks.”

Azula was tearing into her bread slice and occasionally reaching to put it in her mouth. As she went to eat a squished chunk of bread, Zuko tried to roll his eyes like he had seen adults do and gently tugged her hand into his. “Silly Azla. The turtleducks need this, not you!” 

“Azula,” She corrected under her breath. As if she didn’t absolutely treasure every time he fumbled over his words. He said her name differently every time and each time was better than the last.

 Zuko now started to throw some bits of bread into the still pond. He stared up at her as the turtleducks remained hidden. “Well where are they!” 

“They’re coming. Be patient,” She pushed herself forward so both of her children sat by her legs. Azula peered back up at her with a gummy smile but Zuko kept his pouting gaze to the water. She leaned over them and waved her hand through the water. Really, she had thoroughly spoiled the turtleducks and even worse was teaching her children to spoil them. It had gotten to the point where the turtleducks would all come scrambling out when they heard any human and splashing water. Ah well, maybe she could just convince her children that she was simply a turtleduck whisperer.

 It was another second before a quack sounded behind the long reeds at the back of the pond. Zuko gasped and crept even closer to the edge. Suddenly there was a commotion of two adult turtleducks gracefully paddling to them with six choatic turtleducklings skittering wildly in front of them. Zuko turned to her with pure joy written all over his face and clapped his hands excitedly. Even Azula was now looking up, pointing at them with an awed gurgle. 

She just smiled and threw some little bits of her bread. Zuko scooped his all up and went to throw it all in at once. Ursa only tiredly smiled, she advised for him to make the most of feeding them. “Sometimes it’s best to sit here and treasure the little moments. There’s no need to rush.”

 He pouted as he dropped to them to ground before plucking one tiny chunk and tossing it gently into the water. Zuko giggled wildly at the sound of the little turtleducklings chirping as they squabbled over the bits of bread. Azula was trying to reach out to pet them but luckily she had an older brother to keep her steady and protect her from little pecking beaks. 

Ursa’s gaze stuck on the two adult turtleducks though. One was right there with the babies and occasionally eating while the other completely dismissed them and stuck around the opposite end of the pond. It wasn’t even looking at the other turtleducks. 

 Either it wasn’t going to last much longer or it was rejecting its family. 

 A sudden peal of pure baby squealing laughter broke through the air. She snapped around, just like Zuko did, to see Azula laughing frantically as she pointed at the pond. Zuko look bewildered before breaking out into his own childish giggles. She didn’t even notice she was laughing along with them. Something about children’s laughter was always so contagious and it was much more effective when it was her own little turtleducklings. 

 “Do you think that’s funny?” He giggled at her before picking up another chunk of bread. His gaze squinted and his brow creased as he concentrated. He threw the piece of bread so it landed on the shell of the baby turtleduck. The baby looked up and tried to reach the piece but it ended up chirping frantically and slowly spinning in circles. Azula let loose another peal of laughter. “Yeah it is funny!” 

“Oh baby,” She mumbled and pressed a kiss to Azula’s forehead. 

 Zuko smiled at them before taking aim again. It was difficult, they kept moving and if he held it too long then the turtleducks would explode in noise. He missed the first few shots and now he was throwing chunks of bread with reckless abandon. He managed it another two times to land it on their shells. Each time was met with another squeal from his baby sister. 

It made his chest feel all glowing and bright. There weren’t many moments he was allowed to play with Azula. She was busy being a baby- pooping herself and dribbling down mama’s shoulder, so he made sure to make this one moment be the best moment ever. 

 He froze when he couldn’t feel any more bread. He had thrown them all away now. Watching with wide betrayed eyes, the turtleducklings made short work with gobbling up the rest. They chirped at him impatiently. He looked over at mama but she was now scooping up Azula and leaning back against the tree. Her eyes closed. “Mama, we ran out.”

She didn’t answer. “Mama? Mama? Mama. Mama, listen there’s no more. Mama. Mamaaaaa!” He whined before her arms shot out again. He squealed as he was tugged to her chest as well. It was awkward. He was a little bigger than Azula and couldn’t lay down on her chest. Instead he was resting on her lap with his cheek pressed against Azula’s. It was cramped but also it was immediately warming. 

“Shush. Time to make the most of this moment.” She smoothed her hand across his hair to his tight top knot. Pulling it loose, she ruffled it until it sat prettily across his back. She didn’t even need to open her eyes to know how to brush it so it looked so pretty. She was that talented!

“Okay,” He wiggled before closing his eyes too. His breath evening out like he was told to do so by his teachers. They all fell into a dreamless sleep. 

 A warm enveloping sleep surrounded by the people he loved the absolute most.

  Loved? Ursa left without him… Since when did he feel anything for Azula?

 .

 “See! It’s that one there! There’s been not many turtleducks recently but they��re all still good. Well as long as you don’t mess with the babies! Then the mother bites! Nom! But we don’t need to worry. There’s not any babies right now,” Zuko tried to keep up his excitement but Lu Ten was dragging him down. He had looked all worried and sad all day and so he was dragging him down to the pond. The pond always made him feel better and he would race there anytime things got too much but Lu Ten kept dragging his feet and pulling back. Lu Ten was just feeling sorry for himself like a pathetic weakling. That would never solve anything!

“Yeah,” He mumbled. Zuko rolled his eyes but he kept up his happy smile. Being around other sad people would never cheer him up. “Zuzu, we need to have a serious talk for a moment.”

“I know! You already said! And if you were paying attention then you would know that serious talk is best done with the turtleducks,” He sighed grouchily. Why didn’t anyone listen to him!

 He breathed a sigh of relief once they actually arrived. Zuko felt a peaceful smile wash over him as he dramatically fell to the edge of the pond. “Woah!” Lu Ten gasped, grabbing his shoulders. Zuko only looked up at him with confusion. Lu Ten weakly giggled, “Sorry, I thought you were going to fall in.”

He didn’t say anything; after all he was only here because of Lu Ten. Surely he would then start the conversation. But he didn’t. He merely grumbled like an old man as he folded himself down. It wasn’t very sunny today but it was still bright. There was a nip to the breeze but they wouldn’t be out here long. Hopefully. He had been training but Lu Ten and Uncle had interrupted them. It wouldn’t be too long until his Sifu would come shouting for him. Unfortunately, it didn’t take the master long to realise that he would always go to the pond. They would be found sooner rather than later so Lu Ten better get over himself. 

 Lu Ten stayed silent. The turtleducks were completely hidden in the reeds, only occasionally peeking out. 

 “Welp. There you are then. That’s the pond. I’m going to head back to Sifu-”

“Zuko, do you want to know why they’re all hiding away?” Lu Ten finally looked up with a cheeky smile. Zuko paused. There was the Lu Ten that he knew...

“Sure.”

“Here, follow me but stay quiet,” Lu Ten whispered with a familiar spark in his eyes. Zuko followed without question. At least he was acting like normal again. They both slowly walked up to the reeds which erupted into loud quacking. Zuko winced but no one around them said anything. No one came peeking their heads around the corner. Lu Ten was completely unphased so he also schooled his expression back to neutral, like Lu Ten’s. Lu Ten looked at him with a wild grin before gently pushing aside the reeds. 

 There were all the turtleducks. A few were sitting in the small sandy bank while the others stood to their attention, angrily quacking at them. Zuko flinched. But still, no one was coming. Lu Ten gently held out his hand and shushed them all. Zuko frowned. The turtleducks really didn’t seem to like this. He put his hand on Lu Ten’s shoulder but he didn’t look up. After a long pause, he took his time as he lowered his hands and swept away a patted down section of the sand. It only needed to be brushed away lightly. 

 His hand revealed a bunch of pristine white eggs buried. The sitting ducks immediately stood and started flapping at the sand to bury them again. Lu Ten was now looking proudly at him. His own gaze was fixated on the turtleducks. 

 “They have babies...”

“Yeah. It’s Spring. So all the turtleducks are sitting with their babies. I don’t know when they’ll hatch but I’m sure dad would know.”

“Wow,” He breathed before his logic snapped back to, “I mean- well... Thank you for showing me this. It was beautiful.”

“It’s no problem,” Lu Ten chuckled before steering them back to the other side of the pond. The quacking took a few minutes until it had quietened completely. It wasn’t until they were sitting in silence again did Lu Ten sigh. 

 “So... Zuzu... You’ve learnt about the war in class, didn’t you?”

“Yeah. Why?” Zuko frowned, please don’t let Lu Ten suddenly test him. He had learned it awhile ago! He didn’t really remember many of the important statistics anymore. 

“Well that’s good,” Lu Ten nervously chuckled, “And so... now it’s my turn to go into war. I’m of age...”

“WOAH!” Zuko leapt up, “That’s so cool! You get to fight and do lots of cool firebending. You must be like really skilled. That’s a huge honour. To you and your family. Uncle must be so proud. This is an excellent opportunity to use your skills and knowledge to truly serve your countr-”

“Wow, that’s a lot of words,” He chuckled yet again, “You... I mean this is it. War is incredibly dangerous.”

“Exactly! I’m proud of you Lu Ten!” Zuko sat back down and awkwardly patted his knee. Lu Ten had looked like he had much more a speech prepared. His mouth flapped open a couple of times before he shook his head. 

“So you’re not worried about me?”

“Of course not! You’re way stronger than those pathetic nations. Where will you be stationed?”

“I will be going with dad to Ba Sing Se.”

“That’s amazing,” Zuko smiled. The silence encased them. Lu Ten kept his eyes locked on the horizon. Zuko rocked as he stared at the pond. The excitement thrummed under his skin. Lu Ten was already the best person in the world and now he could show that off to everyone now. He couldn’t be more proud...

 “Lu Ten?” Uncle called, snapping them out of whatever they fell into. He held his hand out when they went to stand. Lu Ten stayed sitting with slumped shoulders. Zuko frowned at him. He bowed to Uncle, as was proper. Uncle grinned awkwardly at him and copied his bow. “How are you both doing?”

“I am content.” Zuko kept his gaze to the floor.

“Yeah, all’s good. I uh... I told him,” Lu Ten stood up after frowning at his response. Why was he acting all funny all of a sudden? Uncle copied his look but Lu Ten shook his head. 

“Well thank you for talking to me Zuzu. I’ll see you before... I’m sent off... Bye,” Lu Ten smiled and Zuko smiled back. Uncle placed a hand around Lu Ten’s shoulder and they both walked back into the palace. 

 He absolutely wasn’t supposed to hear but he heard Lu Ten’s quiet mumble of “He didn’t really react though. I don’t think he really gets it... I think uncle’s got him thinking-”

He didn’t hear the rest. Now he was too busy walking back up to the reeds to see the baby eggs!

 He was sure his cousin would be completely fine and come back a powerful victor... He had nothing to worry about, right?

 .

 “Zuzu! I’m bored!” Azula stormed into his room with dramatic flailing arms and a perfected deadpan voice. 

“What?” Zuko sat up with a grimace, “Why are you bugging me then? Go annoy Ty Lee and Mai.”

“They’re both busy so I’m afraid you’re going to have to keep me company,” Azula chirped as she thudded her way to his bed. Zuko pulled a face and went to turn and face the other way but Azula pounced and sat heavily on his stomach.

“Azula! Get off!”

“No, I’m bored!” 

“Azula!” 

“Well you’re not doing anything either! You’re just sitting here!”

“I’m meant to be meditating and you’re distracting me!” Zuko finally sat up and harshly shoved her off him. She fell to the side without much fuss. 

“Well I don’t know how you can meditate when you’re lying down buried in your blankets.”

“I wasn’t!” Zuko gasped, “You just don’t get it! Leave me be.”

 Silence quickly fell. Azula didn’t bother getting up and just made herself comfortable. Zuko now stared at the wall with his back to her. She was the most annoying person ever. Why did mama and father even want another baby? Azula got much less fun the more and more she could talk. 

 “I just don’t get it. You can’t properly breath and expand your chest laying down,” She quietly mumbled. Zuko looked over at her. She rolled her eyes and grabbed his arm. He allowed himself to be dragged upright and gloomily copied her position. Legs crossed. Hands resting on his knees with them naturally curling into a cupping position. Her back was harshly upright. He winced at even the sight and stayed slightly hunched over. 

 “And breathe...” She mumbled despite them sitting like this for a little while now. 

“And breathe...” Zuko mumbled back. He still didn’t feel his core ignite or anything else that Sifu said to expect. His bending ability came ages ago but the exercises felt like a totally different battle. 

 Once another few minutes had passed, Azula grabbed his hands suddenly. “Now can we do something! I’m bored and you’re the older brother so it is really your job if you think about it.”

“Ugh fine! We can feed the turtleducks if you want.” Zuko stood and Azula followed him without another word. 

 They arrived at the kitchen and not a single person really reacted to them. Perhaps they had been instructed to do so. Azula wondered off on her own and Zuko pretty much just stared at the head chef. His ability to cook was already impressive but it was always the speed at which he chopped or kneaded dough that stopped him every time. It was always so captivating. It was weird how they never really reacted to the crown prince and princess just walking in and doing their own thing. Azula came back holding up some buns with a bored expression.

 The turtleduck pond was completely empty. If Zuko had thought about anything ever then he would have recalled it was spring and all the turtleducks were too busy fussing over their eggs. He groaned, this was going to be painful to explain. A bored Azula was a dangerous Azula. But Azula walked over without a care and started dumping chunks of bread into the water. 

 He waited a minute to see if maybe he could be wrong but no turtleducks came. 

 “Sorry Azula. They’re all busy with their eggs. You’ll have to just do your own thing,” Zuko apologised but Azula walked off. He frowned at her rare wide joyous smile. 

“Didn’t cousin Lu Ten teach you about their eggs?” She chirped as she waltzed over to the reeds. The quacking that erupted would deafen anyone. Zuko slapped his hands over his ears but he managed to strangle out a yeah and a quick warning. He always liked looking at their eggs but the fuss and worry it caused them was never truly worth seeing them. 

 “Wow! Look, Zuzu!” Azula leaned down and Zuko went to grab her but she stood back upright. 

 Holding a pristine white egg. 

 “Azula!” He screeched, “You’re not to suppose to touch them!”

“Why didn’t cousin Lu Ten do so?”

“No! No, he didn’t touch them! Put it back!” His voice cracked horrendously. Anyone would think someone was dying. 

“What? It’s fine, stop your worrying Zuzu,” She chuckled as she checked the weight of the egg. Tossing it casually between her hands. Zuko screamed in anger and stormed up to her. 

 “Let it go!”

“Wait, careful Zuzu!” She giggled as she punched the egg into his chest. It smashed instantly. Cold wet egg dripping down his tunic. The shell was shattered and clung to the fabric. 

 It was indescribable. He probably stopped everything. He didn’t think he could identify any emotion he felt at that time. It was instantly overwhelming and also nothing. 

 Apparently he had started sobbing shriekily. A servant heard them and pulled them both to their mother. Azula started to cry saying it was just a normal egg from the kitchen.

 To this day, Zuko doesn’t know if that was true or not. That would explain why it was cold rather than still warm from the turtleducks. She would have been a bit too young to really contemplate that sort of stuff. Hurting an animal. 

Zuko doesn’t really remember much of that day, nor really any of the years that followed spent in her company. 

  .

 Zuko made sure to not say anything or even look at the servant who was helping him change into the traditional clothes for an Agni Kai. One part of him expected them to say something about that but of course they didn’t say a word. Maybe they were pulling a face but he wasn’t watching them. He was… Well, it couldn’t be described as meditation. He was thinking way too much. But he pulled all his attention to the slow expansion of his chest and the flow of air out of his nose. His chi stirring up like embers flying up from a campfire.

 That was really where the memory ended.

 While he always made sure to just not think about the day, his mind always seemed to flow towards this blank. It makes sense really. He wouldn’t want to remember it anyway so really it was a good thing. But why was it there? Was it just too much for his brain to even think about it? The memories were too strong so his head locked them up so tight that he couldn’t even believe that he remembered them. Maybe the pain was too extreme? Pain seemed to encompass everything. Or, simply, maybe it was just his poor memory? He didn’t remember much from when he was younger. Like he doesn’t remember his previous birthdays much. He once went to the Fire Festival and he remembered having a good time way more than the actual specific details of what happened. He knew he loved turtleducks growing up but his memories of them were… not nearly as nice. So why did he love them so much? Maybe it was just because they were simply cute.

Maybe he should just stop trying to think and leave it to the people who were smart.

 Uncle pretty much refused to explain many of the details from that day. Apparently when he was first bandaged up, he remembered quite a lot but then he eventually started to lose some of them. Uncle once quietly sat him down and faced away as he mumbled about how sudden it felt for Zuko to suddenly remember nothing about the day at all. His uncle never told many details but he was always free to explain the general happenings of the day.

 He was escorted to the arena by servants and was kneeling alone for a few minutes before his father actually approached the arena. Of course he was then burned as he refused to fight. He fell face first as his father dropped him. He then announced to all the witnesses that he had won and a consequence to this shall be announced shortly.

 There was apparently a moment between the Firelord leaving and servants collecting Zuko. He was to only be treated within the medical room so people simply tried to avoid the burn until he was able to be moved to then be examined.

 The medical room overlooked the same turtleduck pond that was present in almost every single memory of his childhood. That made sense, the medical room was mostly used by the servants and so was located in the servant wing. He never asked why he wasn’t allowed to be treated in the royal medical wing. Maybe his father truly didn’t need that much time to decide to disown him. Maybe people just saw it coming.

This was another reason why he hated thinking about it. There were too many maybes for this to lead anywhere good.

 Anyway, according to his uncle, the first and only thing he said once he was conscious again was,

 “Can we visit the baby turtleducklings before we leave? They’re so small.”

 He presumed he never did.

 .

“Would you mind if I sit here?” Aang asked.

Zuko startled badly. He didn’t even hear him walk over. Aang was pointing to the grass next him to him childishly with a timid smile. He tried to shake off the weak memories and focus on the right now. “Yeah.”

“Thanks!” Aang chirped and happily crouched down to sit beside him. Zuko sucked a breath in but Aang didn’t speak any more than that.

 The pond was completely still. It was starting to get clogged up with the fallen leaves from the tree hanging over; he’d have to ask the gardeners after that. The turtleducks would probably be sleeping in the reeds. His mother used to tell him that all the time and for the longest time, like an embarrassingly long time, he thought she was just lying to get him to go to bed. But now Zuko had grown past that line of thinking. Turtleducks obviously needed sleep and had to sleep at some time. Zuko growled. Enough memories. The wind was the wrong side of cold. It left his hands slowly going numb with the cold. But he needed the space away from the palace to just think through everything. There was only one turtleduck in the entire pond. A male with a messed up wing. He was the only one he had found when he went to the pond. Azula probably killed all the others. It wasn’t like Zuko could ask someone. He had to appear strong. Zuko growled again. Why did every thought have to lead to an avalanche of worries.

 “You okay?” Aang rested his hand on his shoulder. Zuko blew out a dramatic sigh.

“I thought I’d like it to see the pond again.” Was apparently the words he decided to reply with.

“Oh? Do you not?” Aang stared at the empty water.

“I uh… Sorry. There’s just a lot in my head right now.”

Aang squeezed his shoulder. “You can ramble if you want. It doesn’t even need to make sense! Maybe I could help. A problem shared is a problem halved.”

Zuko tried to collect every word and every memory to find somewhere to start. He was frowning but he couldn’t bring himself not to. There was a lot to frown about.

“You don’t have to share if you don’t want to,” Aang said dejectedly.

“No! N-no that’s not it. I uh… Ugh! I just… I’m just figuring out what to say.”

“Take your time,” Aang gently smiled.

 “I used to come to this pond all the time when I was a kid. Well, not the pond really. It usually has turtleducks and… as a kid I loved them. At some point, coming here was just a place of peace. But not really! I remember loving coming here and I remember thinking I have good memories here! But I can’t actually remember them! I can only remember all these awful memories. Some of the memories aren’t that bad but now they feel bad. M-mother was a huge part of this.” Zuko stopped as his voice cracked more and more. Aang looked away but his entire being tensed up.

“I hate that Ozai told you that.”

“What. You think me never knowing my mother is alive is any better?”

“N-no! No! Oh, no. Not that. I just don’t like seeing you in pain and I know this is really hurting you.”

Zuko didn’t dare to look at him. His eyes burned and vision blurred. He could actually feel the fat drops of tears sitting on the bottom of his eyes. They wobbled dangerously. His chest heaved awkwardly. “I feel like I’m grieving her but she’s not dead. I didn’t even feel this bad when she first...”

He wasn’t going to finish the sentence. If he did then he was going to break his precarious balance and start sobbing.

“It was huge news during a really stressful event. It makes sense that the huge news only hit you now.” Aang sounded exactly like uncle and Zuko bit down on his instinctive scoff.

“I just want to recover.” Zuko felt stripped bare with that weak sentence.

Aang nodded.

“The turtleducks was how I recovered from everything! But now it doesn’t work. Hah! I even took my cousin here whenever he felt stressed because it worked for me! Only for him to ruin everything and tell me he’s going to war and going to get himself killed!”

Aang nodded again. There was a moment of pause. Zuko’s harsh breathing felt like it echoed against the abandoned courtyard. He tried to smooth out his breaths.

“Sorry. That was too harsh. Lu Ten did what he thought was right, going to war. He was stressed because he knew I wouldn’t understand it. His death was… I’m sorry for lashing out.”

“That’s okay. It’s been hard.” Aang sat upright and leaned against his side. Zuko couldn’t tell if it was some attempt at comfort or because it was getting even colder and he ran warm. Knowing Aang, it was both. “I’m sorry that your peaceful place doesn’t work anymore. I think we all need one of our own turtleduck ponds right now. Is there anything I can do to help?”

“No. I’m just being dense. I’m only thinking like this as tomorrow is going to be awful. The pond is still here and there’s at least one turtleduck here.”

“There is?” Aang finally perked up.

“Yeah but he hates everyone. He has a wing that looked like it broke ages ago and so healed all wrong. He can’t fly and doesn’t really eat much. But… he’s here. When things calm down, maybe I can get him some friends. But then again, he might be aggressive to them all since he’s now the only one here.”

“Reminds me of someone,” Aang chuckled. Zuko didn’t really know what he was talking about but he wasn’t going to distract from Aang laughing. “I’m sure you’ll look after him. I hope he gets better. Then you’ll have new memories of the pond. Of helping out the turtleduck.”

“Maybe…” Zuko drifted off. “D-did you have a peaceful place?”

 He knew the answer to that question was going to be an awful one. But he needed to ask. He couldn’t just sit here whining and crying while Aang had lost everything and more.

Aang sat there for a careful moment. “Yes and no.”

Zuko nodded as if that answer meant something.

“We travelled a lot. Nomads, and all.” Aang chuckled weakly, “So we learnt fairly quickly to take comfort from whatever was around. The landscapes we saw, the people who welcomed us with open arms, the different foods and smells… our sky bison… whoever we travelled with. But we also had the temples as our peaceful place. But I don’t think anyone of us really enjoyed being cooped up for too long. I’ve had loads of peaceful places. I’ve had to say goodbye forever to a lot of them. But some are the exact same. The landscapes… The food is still really nice. I-I’m hoping the people’s welcomes will hopefully come back soon…”

 Zuko nodded and allowed that to sit. Uncle would probably be able to draw some conclusion or lesson out of that. Aang probably wanted him to. But he was tired. The words were sad but also nice. There was no need to add to them.

 “I don’t think tomorrow will be that bad.”

“Hmm?”

“You mentioned you’re dreading tomorrow? I really don’t think it will be that bad.”

Zuko looked over at him. To be honest, that previous thought did seem a bit over dramatic. “I think so too. It’ll be nice to have everyone here again. I’ve practised enough that I shouldn’t mess up but I am me!”

“Zuko! Your coronation will go great.”

They sat in silence. If he really strained his hearing then he could hear the palace staff start to rile up as they prepared the palace for the celebration tomorrow now that all the day time activities were finished. The turtleduck never surfaced but, again, Zuko wasn’t really expecting him too. Aang leaned back into his side and Zuko melted into him too. The sun had already gone down when Aang first sat but now it was dark enough that he was struggling to see the other side of the pond. Zuko lifted his head first. “We should go back inside.”

Aang sat there for another moment before turning and gently and slowly wrapping his arms around Zuko’s waist. “I hope you make new memories here. You deserve to have your peaceful place back. I hope this is the start to your new good memories.”

“I hope this can become another peaceful place for you too.”

 Zuko felt his eyes burn all over again and he hugged Aang back.

[hockeyboysiguess]

Countdown

a/n: what’s up everyone? i’m new in town because i found one stupid hockey boy which led me to another and you know how it goes. let me know if you want me to continue writing!

warnings: some swearing, a little bit of drinking.

Your feet were killing you, and you’d definitely had a couple more than you set out to have when the night started, but it was New Year’s Eve, you told yourself. It was the kind of night you could have a little too much. You rocked a little forward on your heels, trying to relieve some of the pressure on the arches of your feet, but it threw you off balance. Luckily, Mat was there with a steady arm to keep you to your feet. You could’ve done without the chirping that immediately followed the incident.

“You know, you could just take the shoes off if they’re bothering you that much,” he said, with a laugh edging at each word as he spoke.

“I’ve definitely explained this to you before,” you sighed. “You look at the shoe, you look at your feet, you tell yourself that your shoes and your feet are married tonight and nothing in the world will separate you. You can’t get divorced after two hours, would look bad for my next husband.”

“You are more committed to those shoes than you were with your last boyfriend,” Mat retorts, never the one to stop the banter first.

“He couldn’t support me like these babies can.” You point your toes and jut one foot out for emphasis, “He didn’t make my legs look this killer either.”

Mat rolled his eyes at you and laughed, a constant combination in your friendship that had become one of the most crucial in your life this past year. You’d met him towards the beginning of the year, and you got along instantly due to your identical senses of humor. Your friendship solidified with his willingness to try practically every restaurant in New York City with you and the fact that you always let him be the DJ whenever you were together. You tried to go through the timeline of your friendship, trying to find the moment something shifted and he stopped being your friend Mat and started being the reason you said no to dates with other guys when they approached you and why you refused to let any of you other friends set you up with anyone. You glanced over at the clock to distract yourself from your thoughts, 11:50pm. Ten minutes to midnight.

“Hey, I was just thinking about the day we met,” Mat told you, a smile on his face carrying over to yours as you remembered the first time you met him.

Ten.

- Months ago, you were at a party pretty similar to this where everyone was a little less dressed up and the alcohol was a lot worse. You were standing with two of your friends, debating on if you wanted to stay longer or head out to the bars when a ping pong ball landed in your cup.

“Hey! My buddy needs a partner for pong. Can you play? Doesn’t matter if you’re shit; he’s probably worse.”

You shrugged, said, “Why not?” and stepped up to the table next to him. You set your cup down on the table and turned to your new partner for the evening, “If I have to carry this team, now’s the time to let me know that you’re dead weight.”

His face was a little taken aback for a second, but then a wide smile formed across his face. He nodded softly.

“I like you,” he said. “You’re right, I am totally about to be dead weight. My name’s Mat by the way.”

You introduced yourself to him and proceeded to win the next two rounds of beer pong with Mat making three cups the entire time. You made fun of his accent. He pretended to be upset that you got away with breaking the elbows rule because you had boobs and they distracted Tito, but the distraction was to his advantage so he said he’d let the rule breaking slide as long as you promised to be his pong partner for the night. You agreed to take him on as charity case for the night if he tried a Thai-Greek fusion brunch with you tomorrow morning that none of your other friends we’re willing to go it. He took the deal and your friendship began.

Nine.

“– seasons of How I Met Your Mother? Jesus, is this even going to be worth it?” Mat complained

“Get the popcorn, sit down, and shut up,” you told him. “I cannot believe you haven’t seen this before. It’s a classic.

“Friends is a classic,” he sighs as he sits down on the couch, dropping the popcorn bowl between you. “This is a cheap imitation. Besides, I thought you would hate this. Isn’t Barney like very anti your whole super feminist thing or something and doesn’t Ted just suck?”

“If you don’t realize you have to take everything in this world with a grain of salt yet, then you are beyond help, Barzy.”

You binged it in under three weeks. While you’d lived the last episode premiering live with your family, you didn’t think you’d ever seen anyone as pissed off at the ending of the show than Mat was. Your sides hurt from laughing so much at his insane ranting about how they could have possibly done that to him, with all of the time he invested in this show. He took it personally and swore he’d never watch another episode again. You still couldn’t bring it up without making him start a whole diatribe. It was your party trick together even though Mat wasn’t quite in on the joke.

Eight.

- Days in Spain in June. Mat insisted on you joining him on his post season tour of Europe. By tour he meant never leaving Spain but going on a lot of wine tours and pretending he knew a lot about wine even though he couldn’t tell the difference between a three-hundred-dollar bottle of age merlot and a bottle of Barefoot if his life depended on it.

“Oh, isn’t this a fabulous red vintage?” Mat said to you, doing an impossibly bad British accent in an attempt to sound fancy. “I can taste floral,” he sipped the wine again, smacking his tongue against his lips loudly, “and citrus notes in this one. You’ll quite like it, madam.”

“You’re gonna get us kicked out,” you sang softly to him as you noticed the daggers he was getting from your tour guide.

Mat slung his arm around your shoulders, pulling you in tight to him. You could feel his muscles tense under his thin t-shirt, and your breath caught in your throat. Some part of you had known he was attractive this whole time; you’d just never been forced to pay attention until this exact moment when you were pressed up against him. You pushed the thoughts to a far corner of your mind. This was your friend Mat and you didn’t need anything more than that from him. You didn’t want it, you told yourself.

Seven.

- Seconds left on the clock. You were pretty sure you hadn’t breathed for the last 5 minutes of the game and you were gripping your seat so hard that your knuckles were starting to go numb. The Islanders were down by one going into the last two minutes against Tampa Bay. Tito had scored to create a 3-3 game with just over a minute on the clock to play. You didn’t want this to go into overtime and neither did the guys. They wanted to complete the comeback win here and now.

You watched as Mat shifted the puck side to side on the ice. You saw him glance up at the clock for a brief second, then he looked back towards the net and he saw his shot. He took it without any hesitation. You were on your feet before the puck hit the back of the net. Mat was immediately engulfed by his teammates, swallowed up in a sea of blue and orange jerseys. His games practically gave you a heart attack, but you’d never turn him down if he asked you to come and he asked you to come a lot.

“Hey there, superstar,” you said, the smile in your voice obvious as you met Mat in the tunnel after he’d finished up his interviews and changed.

“Hey there,” he laughed, giving your shoulder a little shove

You looked around as you walked out with him. He was walking you through that final shot, second by second, but you couldn’t focus on his story. You saw the girlfriends, fiancées, and wives of the other players greeting their respective partners and for a split second you let yourself imagine that with Mat. You hadn’t really thought about it before, but as soon as let that wall down and the flood gates opened, and your feelings for Mat hit you square in the stomach. You wanted to be like them, have what they have, and for a split second, you let yourself want that with him. You wanted him to look at you like the other guys looked at their girlfriends and wives.

“Um, hello?” Mat’s large hang waving in front of your face pulled you out of your moment.

“Oh, sorry. Can you start over? I got a little sidetracked.”

“You okay?” he asked, concern coating the words and his brows furrowing.

“Super-duper, superstar. Try me again.”  

Six.

“-Entrées is way too many. Look, I know you’re practically a championship level competitive eater for fun, but this feels like an exercise of your skills we don’t need to practice.”

“Two things. One, calling pancakes an entrée is a little much. It’s just pancakes,” you retorted, “and two, they serve six different kinds of pancakes here, so I’m getting six kinds of pancakes. Join me or get the hell out.”

Mat’s nose scrunched up as he laughed at your response. God, you loved his laugh. You loved it most when you were responsible for it, not the girl he met at the bar last night who was definitely responsible for the marks peeking out from under his shirt. Seeing those when he sat down made you felt like all the air had left the room. You shrugged off your thoughts as best as you could. Mat wasn’t yours to be possessive of, but that didn’t make the pit in your stomach settle either. You took a sip of your orange juice as Mat’s laughter slowed.

“God, how do I still think you’re cool even though that was super lame?” he asked you, stealing your water since his hungover self practically chugged his when he arrived

“Barzy, some things in the world are magical and they’re better left unexplored and unexplained.”

“Like all women,” he said proudly, like he’d discovered something profound.

You rolled your eyes at him. Even when he was an idiot, you still wished he was your idiot and not some girl at the bar’s idiot, but you wouldn’t risk this. This friendship was too important to you to jeopardize for your stupid middle school girl pinning. You put your feelings back in the box they’d let themselves out of just as the pancakes arrived.

Five.

“You think you’d had five drinks tonight?” Your eyebrow is arched as you look back at an incredibly hammered Barzy. You knew he had to be at least eight deep, more like ten, but instead you said, “Are you sure it’s five?”

Mat nodded profusely, looking more like his bobblehead then himself in that moment. You turned your palms up at him and shrugged a bit, giving him a look of complete disbelief. He proudly put down his beer and yanked his sleeve up to show you his wrist. On his wrist were five incredibly smudged tally marks of various lengths. He hadn’t even managed to realize you were supposed to cross the last one across the other four for every set of five, so there were just five incredibly crooked lines drawn on his wrist in Sharpie.

“See? Five tally marks, five drinks,” he told you, like you were the idiot in this situation.

You nodded in fake understanding as an incredible drunk Mat reached for you. He was significantly touchier with you when he was drunk, his large hands always finding your skin and making a series of thoughts you shouldn’t have run through your brain as your heartbeat picked up in your chest. His hands rested on your upper arms this time as he lined himself up with you, forcing you to make eye contact.

“I’m fine. Don’t you worry about ol’ Barzy here,” he slurred.

“You’re twenty-two,” you laughed. “Hardly makes you an old man, my friend. Come on, I called an Uber. Let’s go.”

You took on of his hands from your arm and held it, dragging him slowly out of the party. He had the attention span of a golden retriever puppy when he was drunk, so it was a good thing you had some practice with this and started your journey to the car ten minutes before your Uber was supposed to arrive. By the time you made it outside, it was already waiting for you. You gave him one small shove and he practically fell right into the car.

“You know,” Mat told you as the car started to roll away from the party, “you’re a really good friend, ya know.”  

You smiled at him but turned your face away quickly as you felt the tears start to sting in your eyes. Maybe it’s the few drinks you’d had yourself, but Mat calling you a good friend was definitely supposed to feel good, but all it was make your heart clench inside your chest. It confirmed everything you were feeling. You and Mat were friends, good to great friends even, but that’s how he saw you, his friend. You never wanted to be the kind of person that complained about someone not liking them back, but you finally understood where everyone else was coming from. This feeling was awful in a way you couldn’t quite describe. It was like a hand had reached into you, found the place where your feelings for Mat where, and squeezed hard, except that hand wasn’t actually all too careful to target that one spot and instead squeezed everything inside your chest until you could barely catch your breath and the tears were rolling down your cheeks. Thank god that Mat had way more than five drinks and was already asleep against the opposite window because you couldn’t keep it together the entire ride home.

Four.

“You really want four dogs at once?” The disagreement coated Mat’s voice. “That’s a lot of dogs at once. I think you need to reconsider this part of your life plan.”

“Four is a very reasonable number,” you replied, not even bothering to look up from your phone. “And this is my twenty-year plan here, Mat, not yours. You don’t get a say.”

“I’m your best friend. I deserve a say here if I think you’re going to screw up part of your life,” he countered. “You’re going to be beholden to these creatures. And you’re gonna have four of them! They’re going to need you constantly. You’re not going to have time for anything else.”

“I do plan on like, having someone around at some point,” you reminded him. “Step nine of this plan was to find that man, finally, and one of the key criteria is that is likes dogs, so he’ll help share the workload.”

“And then you really only have two dogs,” Mat mumbles under his breath as he start to nod in understanding. “Okay, okay, I concede. You’re right, four is the correct number of dogs.”

You laughed in response to his agreement, “Now I’ve just got to find a man and convince him like I convinced you.”

“Took you all of a minute to get me on board with your plan here. I’d sign up to co-parent four dogs with you. You’re gonna be a killer pet parent. I’m sure you can get some other schmuck to agree with you. He’s not going to be as hot as me though, so that’s going to be a downgrade for you right there.” You didn’t let his words sink in. You let them flow right out of your head as soon as they came in. It was for the best, you told yourself.

Three.

- Hours into your co-worker’s engagement party and you were about ready to scream. If one more platter of engagement cookies with their initials and faces came past you, you were going to explode. The only reason you’d make it this long was Mat and the fact he tipped the bartender big time when you got your first drink, so he was making you doubles and triples when he was only supposed to pour singles at the open bar.

“This sucks,” you sighed to him, taking a swig of your drink.

“This party is fucking pathetic,” he said to you. “How are people this boring before they’re thirty? I just don’t understand. If I ever get engaged to someone who wants to have cookies with our faces on them at our engagement party, please shoot me.”

“I expect you to do the same if I ever think that’s a good idea,” you laughed as your spoke.

“You know what,” Mat paused only to down the remaining third of his drink in one go, “it’s time to blow this popsicle stand.”

“Jesus, Mat, they haven’t even made a toast yet or anything. We can’t leave yet,” you tried to remind him, even though it was completely half-assed since you might have been more miserable than him.

“Oh, come on, be irresponsible. Let’s go do something actually fun,” Mat said, leaning into you as he spoke. “You’re in a killer dress. You look incredible. There’s this cool bar down the road I’ve been wanting to try, and we’re dressed for the occasion.”

You scrunched up your nose as you thought. You wanted out, but you also really didn’t want to be rude since you’d have to show up to work on Monday regardless. Mat took your drink from you as you thought, taking care of the rest of your glass with ease even though the bottom quarter was definitely straight vodka due to how slow you’d been drinking. He looked at you, his eyes softly begging for you to get the hell out of here with him. You sighed and grabbed one of his hands, making your way towards the back exit. You couldn’t see the smile on his face, but you felt his fingers slide between yours as he gave your hand an appreciative squeeze.

Two.  

- Times that you’ve almost told him how you feel in the last month. The holiday season had you feeling particularly emotional in general due to a combination of Hallmark movies and the holiday parties’ people were having were giving you a few too many opportunities to be drunk around Mat. Drunk you was a little looser lipped than sober you. Both times started and ended the same way.

“Hey, Mat, can I talk to you for a quick sec?”

You placed your hand on his shoulder as he spoke, pulling him slightly so he’d turn to face you. Each time he agreed and followed you away from the crowd, tucked away in a less traffic area of the party.

“What’s up? Are you too drunk? Do you need to head out? I can call an Uber. Or should I call a Lyft?” he asked in rapid succession.

“No, no,” you shook your head. “I, uh, I wanted to tell you something actually.”

“Okay, shoot,” he replied instantly. “You know you can tell me anything.”

Your mouth went dry as the desert and your carefully rehearsed speech dissolved in your mind. You looked at him, his eyes dark as his traced over your face, trying to figure out what could have been important enough for you to pull him away from the party. Your eyes danced across his face, his strong jawline, his kind eyes, his soft lips. You wanted him. You wanted him so badly it hurt, but the idea of losing him from your life kept your mouth shut both times.

“You know what. Actually, it’s nothing. I figured it out myself. Let’s go get another drink.”

One.

You snapped back to the current moment, pulling your head out of the past. You watched the clock turn to 11:59pm.

“Sorry, I zoned out there,” you told him.

“It’s alright. Tito dropped in when you faded off, so no hard feelings,” he laughed as he spoke, “Um, actually, there’s something I’ve been wanting to talk to you about and I guess, why not start the new year off with a bang?”

You took a deep breath in as you looked over Mat’s face curiously. He was nervous. His hands were fidgeting with his cup. He was shuffling from side to side, foot to foot, transferring his weight with each movement. He looked down at the ground, unable to meet your eyes and mumbled something you couldn’t hear. The countdown for the last twenty seconds had already started, so there was too much background noise to catch his words.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t hear you?” You had to shout to make sure he heard you.

“I like you!” he screamed back. “Fuck that, I’m in love you with and I really, really fucking don’t want to see you kiss anyone else at ten seconds because I’m pretty sure it’ll break me at this point.”

Ten. Your mind was racing. Nine. Mat wanted to kiss you. Eight. Mat liked you like you liked him. Seven. No, Mat loved you. Six. He took a step closer to you. Five. He was so nervous, nervous he’d just ruined everything because you still hadn’t said anything. Four. Your feelings burst out from the box you’d put them in, running through your body, making your heart rate kick up in your chest. Three. Mat leaned his face closer to yours. Two. Your eyes locked with his. One. You rocked up on your toes and pressed your lips against his.

His hands found your hips, pulling you desperately closer to him, practically crushing you against his chest, but his lips were soft and gentle against yours. The room exploded into cheers around you, everyone celebrating the ball drop and the new year, but you barely noticed them, until you pulled back from Mat. His eyes scanned your face, trying to figure out exactly what you were feeling.

“I love you too, Mat.”

“Thank God,” he chuckled to himself as he leaned down to kiss you again, “and happy fucking New Year to me.”

[hogwartsfirebolt]

Hello there! I’m finally here with the third and last part of my favorite drarry fics I read in 2019!!! In the first part and in the second part I recommended 10 stories that made my year, and in this post I’m recommending 10 more that I absolutely adore. The banner art is by @spielzeugkaiser who was really kind and let me use this GORGEOUS piece, which you can (and totally should) reblog right here. Now, without further ado, here’s my,

FAVORITE FICS I READ IN 2019 PART THREE

1. The Company of The Rose - @lower-east-side - 31k - E - Six years after the war, Draco Malfoy has been restoring magical estates, while sidestepping his mother’s plots to marry him off and resolutely avoiding his issues. An advert in the Prophet takes him to a remote island, where a mysterious stranger has purchased an abandoned retreat. But the house has a few secrets of its own, and Draco will be forced to deal with not only his past, but the possibilities of the future.

We’re starting out this list with one of the last fics I read last year, and undoubtedly one of my absolute favorites. It’s gorgeous, sweet, breathtaking, a dozen other adjectives I can’t even think of. Stories that take place in beautiful, secluded places have a special place in my heart, and with a sure hand the author leads us through some of my favorite aspects of the trope: slow forming friendships, the feeling like they’re living in a world of their own as they get to know each other for who they really are, wonderful, delicious sexual tension keeping me breathless until the moment it snaps. The sex pollen element is also worked in a way I had never read before, with an exploration of what happens in the aftermath, addressing the issue of consent it creates. It’s just absolutely phenomenal, every single word of this. 

2. I could be wrong, I could be ready - @harryromper - 57k - M - At first Harry wonders if they’ve managed to destroy his vaults and are trying to tell him in the most oblique way possible. But when he turns the page he realises they’ve found a vault. A vault in the name of Lily and James Potter.The parchment trembles a little in Harry’s hand. He takes another gulp of wine. Harry Potter left Britain after the war and didn’t look back. Ten years later, when Gringotts discovers a vault containing his parents’ belongings—including their badly spell-damaged wedding rings—he’s forced to face up to friends and family who’ve grown in ways he could never imagine, a wizarding London rebuilt beyond his expectations, and the anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts. And if that wasn’t enough, there’s the entirely unforeseen problem of Draco Malfoy. Featuring pureblood wizarding traditions, ancestral magic, open mic nights, marriage equality, a diner in Brooklyn, and the return of Fleamont Potter.

Explorations of Harry as a character and his post-war issues never fail to hook me right in, and this beautiful fic takes us with him on a journey where he changes so, so much, and at first he does it by running away, thinking everything will remain unchanged as long as he doesn’t acknowledge it, which, of course, isn’t the case. We see him having to face his past, reconnecting with his friends, finding and coming to terms with pieces of himself that he forgot about, or never knew existed in the first place, and it’s absolutely exquisite. The tremendous amount of character development, the regaining of trust in himself and others, the way we can witness a love story blooming slow and steady, and see Harry grow into a confident, wonderful man. God, I have feels for this one, for every detail, every character and setting and emotion. It’s absolutely fantastic. 

3. What Real Thing? - @l0vegl0wsinthedark - 12k - E - They don’t cuddle, they don’t talk about their relationship (or lack thereof) and they certainly never fall asleep in each other’s arms.

This was my year of falling in love with l0ve’s fics. I had read some of her work before, but it was a few months ago that I found myself deep into her ao3 page, nearly weeping with the amount of emotion every single one of her stories stirs up within me. Picking just one was extremely difficult, but I finally chose this one, because the way she paints the relationship between Harry and Draco is masterful, their dynamic shifting and changing little by little, baby steps that become full-on sprints, single-minded and hesitant all at once, until we see them elbows deep into a feeling they don’t even know they’re experiencing, and it’s just brilliant, scorching hot, all-encompassing in a way that made me feel caught up in the whirlwind that is their relationship. If you haven’t yet read anything by l0ve, then I strongly, strongly recommend you start right about NOW. You won’t regret it. 

4. Teeth - @amelior8or - 5k - E - Potter’s been practically begging for it, for months, constantly staring until the air crackles with the intensity of it. Draco always stares back, until all it takes is a brush, a spark, before they go up like flash paper. The crash into each other is inevitable. Draco’s heart has got teeth. And there is nothing he won’t do to keep up the fight with Harry fucking Potter.

I am absolutely, 1000% weak for werewolf stories, and in just 5k words this one managed to enchant and entrance me. It’s hot and fast-paced and intense in the way I love, with their relationship charged with emotion and intensity that transform bickering into passion in the blink of an eye. The moment I reached the end, I went back to the top of the page and reread it that very second, because I had to experience it all over again. Amazing characterization, banter to die for and explosive chemistry are all present in this gem. I kid you not, I’ve read it about six times at this point and just keep going back to that moment in the showers because THAT DIALOGUE IS JUST- wow. 

5. Hush, darling - @magpiefngrl - 23k - E - Draco is in trouble. To get out of it he needs to seduce Harry Potter.

My god what a story this is. Absolutely unique, 23k words that felt like so, so much more because of everything they made me feel. There isn’t a single line of dialogue in this story that doesn’t feel purposeful, the characterizations constructed with such skill that every step the characters take rings true to their essence and gives us another clue to add to the puzzle that is Harry Potter, vulnerable man, powerful man, and Draco Malfoy, in all his darkness and his light. It also features some of the best sex scenes I have read, EVER. I could go on and on about this one, so let me just refer you to my long, individual rec for some more flailing. 

6. The Pirate and the Prince - @nerdherderette - 49k - E - Draco can't believe that fate and circumstance have made him a stowaway on the Master of Death's ship. He doesn't know what's worse: the dread pirate's legendary vendetta against the aristocracy, or the fact that his captor is the most infuriating yet irrefutably fascinating man Draco has ever met.

YES!!!!! YES!!! The moment I saw the cover art for this fic on tumblr my entire being just screamed YES, and it was everything I could’ve hoped for and more. Listen, there is nothing I love more than fics where I get to see Harry as a powerful, ruggedly handsome man who’s not afraid of getting his hands dirty, and in here there’s some of that and MORE, because he’s a freaking PIRATE. And not only did I adore that aspect of it, but the writing pulled me right in, the setting so vibrant I could feel it in my bones, and I just genuinely enjoyed every second of reading this so, so much. There’s ships and adventure and fighting for what’s right, there’s lovely kisses, heated kisses, secret identities and parrot Hedwig. Just, all in all, a great freaking time. 

7. Falling for a Golden Boy - @rockmarina - 44k - E - Merlin. Why couldn’t Draco have moved to a forgotten village in the Alps? He could have turned into a shepherd, learned to make his own damn cheese and given up his damn magic. But no, he’d had to come back to his Eighth year, hadn’t he? And this was his life now. Draping himself over Potter to hear words from him that he knew Potter wouldn’t ever mean.Great. The school year ahead of him looked simply great.“All I know is—when I’m with you, I…” Potter, the heathen, grunted when he read the rest of his line. “Do I really need to say this?”“What, scared of believing your own words, Scarhead?” Draco spat.“Boys,” O’Neill warned them.“All I—all I know is you’re the most amazing person with weak ankles that I've ever met, Meg.” Potter scowled. He was blushing again. “And when I’m with you, I feel less alone.”

My favorite eight year Drarry of all time, probably. I had never before experienced such a beautiful balance of the aftermath of the horrifying events of the war and how they impacted each character, and the light feeling of youthful fun. There are so, so many things to love in the 44k words that make up this masterpiece, so many details that warmed my heart and made me melt inside, so many moments that had me laughing or clutching my chest. In here, you’ll find quite a lot of Hercules references, wonderful teachers, drama club, healing, characters learning to trust, learning to love, learning to cope, beautiful friendships, hopeful romance. It is everything. I talked more about this fic in this individual rec, and I will absolutely talk MORE about it if given the chance. Everyone should read this. 

8. Tease Crossed, Eyes Dotted With A Little Heart - @diligent-thunder - 18k - M -  Draco's a curse-breaker, Harry's an Auror, and they're... something? Maybe? It depends. Harry definitely wants to get laid, Draco wants to follow procedure, and their work wives just want them to stop hiding from the truth. 

I hope you’re not sick of my rambling yet because oooooh boy, THIS ONE. It’s funny, in the way that makes you cover your mouth because you’re about to burst out laughing on the bus, it’s hot, in that casual way that makes you clear your throat and shift your phone just a little, just so the screen can’t be seen by the person sitting beside you because like HELL are you going to stop reading now, it’s sweet, in the way that makes you smile so hard your cheeks hurt, and it’s so detailed and all around so, so much fun to read, in the way that grips you and doesn’t let you go, only to release you when it’s over so you can go and recommend it to your friends, IT’S. SO. GOOD. Real quick: auror + cursebreaker pairing, are-they-friends-with-benefits-or-more, guess-they’d-have-to-actually-TALK-to-know-that, teasing each other in public, getting trapped together for a bit there, powerful female characters, should you guys really be flirting right now? and MORE. Listen, just go read it now and thank me later. 

9. That which hurts (and is desired) - @shealwaysreads - 19k - E - Draco was lying still, and pale, on a bed in a private room in St Mungo’s. The sheets were white, clean, enchanted against stains, vanishing the blood that kept spilling out of him. He hadn’t moved in two days. Not a twitch of his elegant fingers. Not a blink of his fierce eyes. Harry couldn’t even see the faint flutter of his pulse in his throat from where he stood at the foot of the bed, helpless, impotent, furious.

This fic is written so, so beautifully that it aches and leaves such an impression that, thinking back on it, every emotion hits me just as hard as it did when I was reading it. Everything Harry felt, I felt, every moment where he found himself just a little bit more in love with Draco, I was there, every moment of his frustration when Draco is hit with a curse nobody can decipher, I was there for it. With non-linear storytelling, it is evocative, a masterclass in narration, pacing, characterization and beautiful, lyrical writing. I nearly have no words for it. It features: auror partners that work together seamlessly, a dash of pining, a helping of very, very hot sex, and a love story that feels soft like a dream and thrilling like a race. This was the very last story I read in 2019, and I could not have ended the year on a better note. Definitely check this one out.

10. For Thine Is The Kingdom - @kedavranox - 66k - E - On a secret mission, Draco is Turned. With no memory of what happened, he learns that to save his missing Auror partner and regain what he’s lost, he must uncover the long-buried secrets of the vampire covens. To do that, Draco must open his mind and heart to what he has become, the new-found family that surrounds him, and the man who has remained steadfast at his side through it all.Harry spent five years avoiding the man he fell in love with, but when Draco needs his help, he cannot refuse. As they race against the clock to find Draco’s partner, Harry discovers that the bond they share is nothing to hide from, and that he'll never outrun the pace of his own heart.

And last but absolutely not least, there’s this freaking diamond of a story. I swear I want to squeal whenever I remember it. I’ll be brief: it is one of my absolute favorite fics of all time. In here, there’s vampires, unspeakables, a big investigation, wonderful side characters and information given in small little doses as we learn alongside the characters and piece together an entire picture. It’s dazzling, incredibly detailed in every way, with shades to each character and nuances to every interaction and bit of magic we get to see. I feel like anything I can say is not enough, I can never do this story justice. I have tried before, and written the gushiest individual fic rec of my LIFE but just- I honestly have no more words to express how much I think everyone needs to read this. Please, check that rec out, please, check this story out. There is absolutely nothing like it.

----

And that wraps it for 2019! Thank you to all who take the time to check out my lists, and THANK YOU specially if you give these incredible stories a chance, because they deserve all the love in the world. Once again: All the way from here, behind a username and a few tumblr posts, I can honestly say that these 30 stories made my year. I hope they can make yours, too ❤️ If you ever want to discuss these (for tag concerns or plain flailing) (or any story really) my DM’s are always open!!!

[dragynkeep]

To give you a break from *gestures at the K@taang anons* whatever the f*ck is going on there, uh, do you have any fun headcanons about Taang? Do you guys have any fun names for their babies like "steambabies"? I know you guys mentioned way back when that you shipped them I think so just curious. 😊

bless you nonny. idk if they have a name but i’m totally down for taang’s kids being called pebble babies !! as for some headcanons about them & taang, i have a few owo.

a year after the show ends, aang & toph go travelling across the world for his duties as the avatar; toph not really having any ties back to her home & still craving freedom, except now she’s not running away. she’s doing what she wants as her own person, tying into how aang has helped her see beyond her more grounded roots into a more free way of living. however, toph is still there to ground aang when he needs it, to centre him as he learns to be a more effective avatar for everyone, including himself.

you definitely won’t find one without the other after they go on their journeys, & they’re sure to come back every few months to meet up with their friends. during that time, they definitely end up growing closer together & after a festival in one of the earth colonies, aang confesses his feelings for her. toph turned him down at first, fearful of jeopardizing the friendship even though she also had feelings but eventually, they both came to accept their feelings for each other & got together.

aang did tease her that was his confession really that bad, which got him a punch on the arm. but then a sweet kiss on the cheek ♥

by the time they get together, they’re 15 & sokka is teasing them about their puppy love, despite suki pointing out they weren’t that much older when they began their relationship.

aang !! discovering more airbenders !! aang finding out that his culture isn’t gone forever !! aang getting to mentor all these babies who’ve had to hide their bending & culture for so long to keep themselves safe !! he also takes this opportunity to show toph pieces of his culture he thought he’d lost forever & toph is able to teach the baby airbenders stances to evolve their bending.

the babies referring to aang & toph as dad & mom respectively, which flusters them so much. when they go back to meet up with zuko & katara, the pair just tease them on how it feels to go from babies of the group to the parents.

toph eventually going home to her parents when news of her father’s death reaches the pair on their travels. she regrets not being able to make amends with him before he died, with aang comforting her in her loss & respecting the grief that followed, but also is there to help toph when she does make those steps to invite poppy back into her life.

they do end up having kids when they’re in their early thirties, & end up with four before deciding to call it a day there.

their eldest girl is kelsang  ( flower  /  good luck )  who’s an airbender & named after the festival aang confessed during. then came the earthbending twins dawa  ( moon ) & ya wen  ( graceful clouds ) & finally, their youngest hao ran  ( grand in manner )  who was a nonbender.

all four were raised in both cultures & taught both traditions, though toph had to remind poppy that her grandchildren came from the world’s greatest earth bender & they won’t break with a little rough housing. hao ran definitely ends up becoming grandma’s favourite, eventually taking over the beifong family business.

[soft-glitch]

Through Thick And Thin

Fandom: Sonic the Hedgehog

Type: hurt/comfort, platonic fluff

Word count: about 2700 words

Author’s notes: this year was a mess. But I’m grateful for a few things that happened to me in 2020. One of these things is getting into the Sonic fandom, which helped me find joy in being creative again. Another is a budding friendship with someone really cool, that I can only hope will last for a long time.

This fic is kind of a gift to that person for New Year’s Day. To everyone, but especially to you O, I wish a happy new year and many good things to come.

- - - - -

It was not an easy morning.

Shadow had always been an early bird. He never needed much sleep compared to other mobians, thanks to his bio-engineered origins. This was both a blessing and a curse, depending on the days.

Being able to stay up most of the night during missions proved useful more than once. On the other hand, when ugly thoughts would assail him and sleeping them away was not an option, well… It was suddenly much less interesting.

On this last day of December, the hedgehog could not shake uneasy feelings. Between Eggman’s plotting and his own personal issues Shadow always had rough times, but this year had been… a lot.

Walking silently in the empty corridor, careful not to wake up anyone in the household, the dark mobian reached the kitchen and started preparing hot chocolate. Since most of his friends knew about his sweet tooth he didn’t bother hiding it anymore, and Rouge always made sure they were stocked up on cocoa.

While waiting for the milk to warm, he glanced at the clock on the wall. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

The eerie calm of early hours often made Shadow slightly uncomfortable. Despite his introvert side enjoying the peaceful solitude, it was also a moment where his thoughts would simmer in his mind, either awoken by confuse dreams or simply emerging as the day started. He would often put some music or read a book to avoid thinking too hard about it.

Didn’t always work, though.

Taking a deep breath the hedgehog felt some relief at the sweet scent of chocolate. He took a small sip before moving to roll himself in blankets on the large couch. With a long and noisy yawn he reached for the remote and pointed it at the large TV screen in front of him. Maybe there was something nice to watch while waiting for his roommates to get up.

- - - - -

When Shadow opened his eyes again, sunlight was gently glowing through the translucent curtains of the living room. Which meant it was probably kind of late already. It seemed he fell back asleep at some point.

With a frown, he rubbed his dishevelled quills and took a look at his phone. Almost 11am, and no sign of Rouge or Omega... This was odd, especially since they planned on spending the New Year’s Eve together.

That’s when he noticed an envelope lying on the small coffee table, next to his now empty mug. It was plain kraft, with a small card inside that only offered an address and the words “At noon, don’t be late hun”.

Obviously from Rouge. She loved putting mystery and drama in everything she did. Shadow huffed and shook his head.

Irredeemable.

Did that mean his friends got up without waking him and prepared some kind of surprise? However silly it was, this simple envelope brought some warmth to the hedgehog’s heart. He got up to take a quick shower and prepare for the day, a small smile peeking at the corner of his lips.

- - - - -

The location was one Shadow didn’t particularly recognise, a small intersection in a popular part of the town. Since Team Dark lived in a suburban area and their job at G.U.N was usually all over the world, his knowledge of the city was lacklustre. Right as his phone displayed 12pm a text popped up on the screen.

Rouge Right behind the shoes store, a cafe.

The striped mobian rolled his eyes with a hint of amusement. Even for something as simple as a New Year between friends, the bat couldn’t help making some kind of fun game to play. Shadow would gladly proclaim it futile and childish, but he actually enjoyed these quirky adventures his best friend always peppered in his life.

What he saw next filled him with pure joy. Of course Rouge wouldn’t choose a random cafe to meet. She had to make it extra one way or another, and she just knew how to please him.

The Gentle Garden Chao Café & Flower Shop

Almost giddy at the idea of having some sweets surrounded by chao, the ultimate lifeform stepped into the small establishment. A quick glance around made him happy beyond words: soft muted lights and warm colours complemented vintage furniture, large potted plants adorned all sides of the place, and —most importantly— chao of every kind were all over the place, either walking, being cuddled by clients or sleeping on small pillows.

In the back of the room was a large counter, behind which a massive chalkboard displayed both the cafe menu and prices of various flower arrangements.

Before Shadow could go and talk to the barista, a familiar face caught his attention. Rouge was there, sitting nonchalantly and sipping some drink in the most ostentatious way possible.

The hedgehog smirked and sat in front of her.

“So...?” he started with a raised brow. “So what? Did you think I’d let you stay home for this special day?” Rouge huffed between two exaggerated sips. “It’s just New Year’s Eve, not an anniversary or something...” Shadow said, glancing at the table.

He realised an order of white chocolate cappuccino —his very favourite drink— and forêt noire —one of his favourite sweets— were set in front of him. For a second he felt something rise in his chest. A mix of gratitude and that odd yet pleasing vulnerability he could only feel with his closest friends.

“I know it’s just the new year.” the bat leaned on the table, her eyes both tender and serious. “I also know you haven’t been doing great lately. It’s been a difficult time, and of course it won’t magically be over as midnight comes, but...”

She looked in the distance, her eyes piercing through the windows and their cold winter lighting. Shadow could very clearly feel the bittersweet essence of her expression. This year had also been hard on her.

“We’re in this together, y’know.” she resumed, turning a gentle smile towards him. “And while I can’t resolve every problem we have, I can at least invite my emo bestie to enjoy some chao and indulge in sugary treats!”

The hedgehog chuckled at this, then raised his cappuccino mug. “Let’s have a good time, then. To us bitches.” he said with a knowing grin. “To us bitches!” she exclaimed happily. ”Now drink that ‘ccino, we have chao to cuddle.”

Some laughs and friendly banter later, two chao had found their way on Shadow. One was sleepily nested on his legs while the other was playing on his head, brushing his quills curiously.

“You really have your way with them, just like Omega...” Rouge remarked. She loved the little creatures very much, but she never seemed to attract them as easily as her two partners. No one really knew why and she honestly didn’t mind. It was fun enough to observe them from a distance: no risks of ruined haircut or having one mess with her wings.

“This is the best.” the hedgehog whispered, his voice full of emotion. His friend chuckled. Shadow was endearing in many ways, but his love for plants and creatures was unparalleled in an extremely wholesome way.

“Did you ever consider adopting one?” she asked before biting into her remaining pastry. Shadow’s expression became slightly somber as he looked at her. “I…” he sighed and scratched the sleeping one’s head. “I always wanted to, I guess. Even on the Ark, once we learned about them with Maria, we used to pretend having one. There was a plush, I don’t remember its name. We would play parents, bring it along for walks across the Ark, this kind of things.”

Rouge nodded sympathetically. Maria was less and less a sensitive subject as years went by, but Shadow was still defensive about these memories. Sharing them was one of the most intimate things he would do, and she felt honoured every time it happened.

“Maybe one day.” the hedgehog shrugged with a tired smile. ”Right now our lives are too dangerous. I can’t raise one properly as long as we keep fighting and going on missions Chaos knows where. – Let’s hope we get Eggman and his clique once and for all, then!” Rouge said with a grin. “Can’t wait to have you pester us with photos of your ugly little baby.”

The genuine laugh that followed made the bat beam with happiness.

- - - - -

The very specific atmosphere of New Year’s Eve was not lost to the two mobians as they strolled in the city. Streets were bustling with activity, but in a way that felt distinct from other winter holidays. The ambient anticipation was less frantic, almost… solemn. Instead of rushing for gifts and food, people seemed determined to enjoy the final hours of this year.

Shadow found it interesting, not without its charm. He was more used to strolls in mountains, lonely forests and small paths undulating through fields. The buzzing activity of the city was something else —very nice, though. Plus Rouge knew every neighbourhood surprisingly well, and offered him little fun facts and stories about all sorts of buildings and places.

“It’s a real shame we don’t get more free time between G.U.N and Eggman.” the bat lamented. “There are so many nice spots I’d love to visit with Omega and you. – We do have vacations once in a while.” Shadow replied. “Yeah, but they’re either ruined by some apocalyptic event or by an intense need for rest.” she sighed. “We can’t enjoy the Museum of Arts if we’re falling asleep every two paintings.”

The dark mobian nodded. Technically Omega and him didn’t need a lot of sleep, but being world-saving heroes brought its own kind of mental fatigue. Moments of calm and respite were too few and far between.

“Well. Next time we have some days off we’ll organise a Team Dark afternoon.” Shadow offered. “An exhibit or two, some games at the arcade. Maybe a small concert at a cafe. – Oh my. Hun, I’m impressed to see you take this kind of initiatives.” the bat replied.

The hedgehog gave her a friendly nudge. “Shut up, can’t let you make all the decisions. – I don’t see why not.” Rouge shrugged with a knowing smile.

They suddenly stopped. Without really realising it, the duo had reached the large avenue leading back to their house. As they exchanged a glance, Rouge winked. “Omega must be waiting for us. Let’s move!” she said cheerfully.

- - - - -

An immediate wave of relief filled Shadow as soon as they passed the front door. “Finally some warmth.” he sighed, removing his large coat and thick scarf. “I was expecting your lowered body temperatures.” Omega’s robotic voice answered from the kitchen. “Hot tea and biscuits are ready for immediate consumption. Made with love.”

Rouge snickered and Shadow repressed a chuckle.  Both knew Omega was absolutely unable to cook anything without setting fire to it, so the biscuits were probably store-bought. They still appreciated the gesture greatly.

Everyone gathered around the table, remembering stories about the now-ending year and its numerous developments. Adrenaline-filled fights, obscure investigations and exhausting assignments went alongside hilarious mistakes, glorious teamwork… and even celebratory moments with all the other heroes of Mobius.

“Okay, but the award for the best party of the year still goes to Knuckles’ surprise birthday.” Rouge said confidently while helping Omega put on a colourful crochet beanie. “Ughh please. Let’s not talk about it.” Shadow groaned, knowing exactly where this was going. “It was extremely fun. The fireworks accident made it over 200% better than any other celebration.” the robot insisted. “Oh right, I almost forgot about that!” the bat laughed. “Poor Knuckie, having to deal with a fire hazard on his cherished island…”

Memories of the furious echidna shouting frantically brought a grin to Shadow’s face. “But!” Rouge added, ”I mostly remember someone having a few drinks too much and— – NOPE!” the hedgehog exclaimed as he brandished his hands. “No talk of this specific event shall happen in this house. Ever.”

Omega tapped his fingers on the table as he eyed his smaller friend. “It is a shame I did not record it for ulterior viewing.” Shadow’s glare was so intense the former badnik recoiled slightly.

“Oh well, it’s all in the past now.” Rouge mused teasingly. ”Good times, good times...”

- - - - -

The closet was absurdly full of useless trinkets and Shadow was very, very close to “fix” it with a Chaos blast.

Of course he wouldn’t, knowing how preciously Rouge kept all those odd items from her past. Jewels, foreign souvenirs, postcards, old plushies, photographs… All her memorabilia was kept there, in a mismatched mess mixed up with cleaning supplies, spare beddings and various tools.

“They should be somewhere near the bottom!” the bat shouted from across the flat. The hedgehog growled, his eyes desperately scanning the clutter in front of him. Finally he found what he came for.

Fairy lights. The essential accessory to any LRCS —Living Room Camping Session.

Shadow walked back to the main room, where a drying rack and several chairs formed a structure covered by sheets and blankets. Omega was evaluating whether the improvised tent was big enough for him. “It is perfect, Rouge. We will be able to fit within the designated comfy area.” he said before crawling underneath the colourful construction.

The hedgehog carefully hung the string of lights around and inside the tent before plugging it. Rouge grabbed some snacks and scuttled against the large robot, who fiddled with the remote until a title screen showed on the TV.

“Are we really watching this?” Shadow asked hesitantly. “Shadow. We all know your inclination for romance between organic beings. Please come cuddle so we can start the movie.” Omega said. “Don’t tell me you suddenly decided to hate cheesy fiction, sweetie.” Rouge added. “I would rather perish than lose your snarky remarks and teary-eyed spee— – Alright, I get it, I’m coming.” the hedgehog replied with a frown. “This better be good, though.”

It was everything but good. Outbursts of laughter and incredulous stares followed one another as the movie —a romantic parody of the famous blockbuster Attack On Mobius— kept getting more and more absurd. Omega threatened to turn himself off as he struggled to find any reasoning behind what was happening, and Rouge almost choked on her pop-corn near the end of the second part.

When the credits started rolling, the three buddies snuggled together. The winter night cold was no match for a group hug and thick quilts. Shadow eyed his phone and hummed.

“It’s almost midnight. – Does that mean we have to prepare a wish?” Rouge asked in a sleepy voice. “We don’t have to.” the hedgehog replied, glancing at his two friends.

Has to be an odd sight, he thought. A haphazard team with so many differences, united by pure luck in a challenging world. Chilling together in a makeshift tent in the middle of a flat like nothing else mattered. He closed his eyes and took a moment to appreciate the warm feelings. Being surrounded by such amazing souls for whom he really mattered. Knowing all the affection and dedication hidden behind that seemingly cold name, “Team Dark”.

“I wished for a pony.” Both Omega and Shadow looked at their bat friend with tilted heads. “What? They’re cute, I dunno.” she shrugged with a shit-eating grin. “What would you guys wish for? – Dual plasma swords.” the robot replied. “Maybe I should ask Miles when we cross paths again.”

Rouge rolled her eyes, then shouted curse words as she realised midnight was mere seconds away. Omega startled, making the whole tent fall on the team. The striped hedgehog quickly covered his muzzle with his hands, trying to suppress an irresistible laugh. No matter how hard life was, no matter the obstacles in his way, one thing was certain as the year came to an end.

Friendship was all he could wish for.