#this was mostly just to de-stress though

[mewguca]

rough scugerator concepts

[tuesdayiminlove]

i don't wanna look at anything else (now that i saw you) PART 1/3

where you’re just trying to make it through the day, and jamie thinks you’re his girlfriend (jamie tartt x fem!reader)

AN: hello i started this blog to post all of my writings that have been piling up! this has been sitting on my laptop for awhile, and i decided to post the first part to see how things go! lmk ur thoughts! btw this is not proofread oops

word count: 6k+

You think that the highlight of your day might be tending to your garden. 

It started as a bit of a de-stressing-after-your-job hobby. At first, you found joy in coming home and taking time to water the flower beds at the front of your home, faithfully tending to them with the sole purpose of making the exterior of the house pretty for passerbyers. That soon turned into your father helping you install a window box at your bedroom window, so you can wake up to the site of blooming Zinnias. You meticulously started planting more flowers in your yard, and soon the vegetable garden (a neighborhood favorite). 

Mrs. Dunphy from two houses down was the first person who inquired on the abundance of your radishes and carrots. Never one to turn down a request, you began to give her a generous amount of the vegetables you’ve grown. And she’s just too sweet of a woman, sometimes you will pick the best of your abundance to give. 

And once word got around the street that you were giving away free, fresh vegetables, more people came running. Mr. Taylor suddenly was wondering about any spare tomatoes for the sandwiches and salads he makes when his grandkids visit. Stevie likes to snack on cucumbers, and she’s one of the very few people you know around the block your age, so of course you’re gonna chop a few when she comes over to watch shitty reality TV with you (and pack a few for her to take home, of course). 

Your garden has become something to connect you with other members of your neighborhood in Richmond, thus making it a passion project of sorts. As well as a productive pastime—that might as well be a second job. You try to keep it a secret, but you’ve begun to talk to your plants. That one tip about how talking to plants is good for their health is pretty famous, right? 

You’re quietly humming to the acoustic radio station you have playing on your speaker, meticulously chopping up onions for your soup. You like the recipe you're doing—it’s creamy and rich and you have most of the ingredients in either your cupboards, or your garden. 

It’s one of those days where you’re off work early, and just looking forward to a day to yourself. It’s not abnormal for Stevie to come ringing the doorbell whenever she sees fit, but it’s a day where you know she’s going to be gone late for work. So unless you decide to call up one of your other friends, or maybe your parents, it’s just you. And you’d like to go that way: you’ve been waiting for a bit of a self-care day. Nothing can cure your stress like warm soup, some music, and the comfort of your home. 

You open your fridge, spotting the array of tomatoes before picking one to use. Though, nearly immediately, your mind wanders off to something. Your eyes instinctually glance out your kitchen window at the house next-door, seeing it empty of the typical car. 

A new neighbor had moved in recently next-door, and usually he’d be home by now. . . Is it weird that you know that? Maybe it’s a bit creepy. But, if you’re completely honest, you’re a bit hyper-aware of this neighbor. If it isn’t his status in England, it’s his wonderful personality. And if it isn’t his wonderful personality, it is the fact that he might be one of the most beautiful and fit people that you’ve ever laid eyes on. 

You remember the first time you met Jamie. 

“You need help?”

Your shoulder jolted slightly, and you nearly dropped the soiled crate of peonies from your arms. It’s hard to startle you, mostly because you think you’re pretty hyper aware of your surroundings. You can easily spot the footsteps of Mr. and Mrs. Michelin, as well as their boisterous voices. 

The voice that spoke, however, did not sound like a couple in their early-60s. You hadn't even heard the footsteps. 

“Fuck, I’m sorry! Didn’t mean to scare you there.”

You angled your hip around, adjusting the crate in your hands in a way that doesn’t hurt your fingers. 

Immediately, it was easy to recognize that the man is Jamie Tartt: not only the man who had recently moved in next door, but also the known striker for Richmond’s own Premier League club. It’d be easy to mistake him for a regular guy, though, if his pajama pants and jumper couldn’t make him look any more average. His hair parts evenly down the center with concerned brows raised up to nearly the hairline. 

“Are you okay?” Jamie asked, seeming to mistake your quiet observation of him as you still being scared as balls. 

You huffed a laugh. “I’m sorry. You just startled me.”

“That’s my fault—no need to apologize.” He waits another beat before adding, “I’m Jamie. I just moved in next door. I kinda… saw you when I just walked out. Thought to introduce myself.”

You grin. “Trying to be on everyone’s good side?”

He returned your grin, looking less tense now that you had reciprocated the conversation. “‘Never had much of a good one to begin with in neighborhoods. I’m trying to change that.”

There was a beat of silence before you said your name, feeling surprisingly awkward in this situation. You’re by no means a social butterfly, but it’s hard to startle you—especially on your own home property. Every conversation approached to you has always been reciprocated evenly by you. If Mrs. Michelin from down the street wanted to tell a story of the old diner she owned, you did your work quietly while listening, chiming in when necessary. If Stephen from down the block wanted to stop by for tea and gossip (which you’ve never been into the gossip part of it), you sip your tea nonchalantly and ask engaging questions that won’t entirely give away your true opinion on the matter: Mr. Barnaby is rude? What makes you think that? 

But for some reason, in the presence of your new neighbor, you found yourself quite speechless. Maybe it’s because Jamie is basically a celebrity. You had no doubt that he had millions of followers on every platform he ran—and the paps love him (she sees it on the news and papers). 

That’s probably why. 

“Well,” you cleared your throat, smiling. “Welcome! Everyone around here is pretty nice, but you can make those conclusions yourself when they inevitably pay you a visit.”

“Is it a tight-knit group around here?” he asked with a smile.

You nodded. “Quite. A lot of them come over sometimes to get veggies, and they seem to know about each other’s lives well.”

His smile turned into a full-grown grin. Immediately, you were desperate to know which words you said elicited that smile, so that you could say the same thing over and over again.

“You sell veggies?”

You shook your head. “I just grow them for everyone!”

In the next few minutes, you’re setting an arrangement to give Jamie a crate of carrots for his morning smoothies. You hide the giddiness you felt from the possibilities of seeing him again.

You’re placing onions into a pot on the stove, mind now away from your neighbor’s whereabouts, when your phone rings. You toss the chopped onions into the sizzling pot before picking up your phone and placing it between your ear and shoulder. 

“Hello?” you say cheerily. It’s been a decent day and you’re about to make your favorite dish, so you’re in a good mood. You balance the phone in between your ear and shoulder and you go back to tend to your uncut tomato. 

A lady on the other end—in a voice that seems quite familiar, but you’re still unsure of—says your name questioningly, in an almost frantic manner that has you furrowing your brows. 

Placing your cutting knife down, you wipe your hand on a rag before holding your phone directly to your ear for more support. “Yes?”

“Um—I’m sorry, I don’t quite know how to deliver this news to you, especially since we’ve never spoken before… which surprises quite a bit…” the woman’s voice on the other line trails off, leaving you more confused. Setting your knife down, you lean a bit closer to the phone. “But, Jamie’s in the hospital. He’s hit his head.”

Jamie? Your next-door neighbor Jamie? Premier League Jamie? The one you were just thinking about? “Tartt?”

“Yes,” the woman replies, “I’m so sorry.”

You don’t know why the woman is apologizing to you. Jamie’s the one who’s hit his head! It’s still confusing as to why you’re the person who received the call, but concern immediately seeps into your bones at the thought of someone so lovely not being alright. 

“No, no. I-It’s okay. Is he alright?”

“He’s got a concussion. It’s quite bad, but not horrible. I’m sure the doctor can explain what’s wrong better than I can. Do you think you can come right now? He’s been asking for you nonstop.”

You frown confusingly. “Me? Are you sure?” You and Jamie are far from strangers, and maybe more than just acquaintances. Sometimes you give the man carrots, that’s basically friend status. But you both are definitely not close enough for him to ask for you after being concussed. He should be asking for a parent, or a relative, or just anyone who is much closer than you are to him. 

The woman on the other end giggles. “I’m quite sure. He’s been yapping nonstop to see you—gave us your number and everything! I know this isn’t an ideal circumstance for his friends to meet you, but we really are a bit excited and curious to put a face to the name.”

What the hell has Jamie said about you? 

“So,” the lady says on the phone, reminding you that she’s there, “are you able to come?”

You stare at the pot boiling on your stove. 

“Send me the address.”

—

The second your eyes meet Jamie’s, his eyes soften until a smile goes over his face. “Took you long enough.”

“Sorry…” your voice trails off, unsure of how to go about talking to him. Your body has barely entered the room in full, but the attention goes to you immediately. You feel the need to give a justified response for why your arrival has been so delayed (you didn’t even know this was happening until barely half an hour ago!). “I was cooking when I got the call, it all happened so suddenly. Are you alright?”

The smile remains on his face. “Perfect now that you’re here.”

There’s a pause in the room. All eyes seem to be on you as you stare back in shock at Jamie's words. A quick glance around the room reveals that everyone is awaiting your next response with surprised, curious eyes. 

“I’m sorry,” you say with a frown, trying to ignore how your heart lurches at Jamie’s words. A sentence like that seems like something you would conjure up in the back of your mind during times you’d like to fantasize about Jamie. You try to push those thoughts aside, because he’s nothing more than your neighbor—possibly friend. A double meaning has to be coming from the sentence, and all you have to do is act cool so that no one will know how affected you are by this. “Am I supposed to be bringing him back to his home?”

The nurse looks down at his clipboard. “You’re his neighbor, correct? You know his address?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Then you should be fit to bring him home. Unless, you think it’ll be more reliable for someone else to? I know all of this must be stressful.”

You quickly shake your head. “Not stressful at all. I’m just trying to grasp why I was called here.” Surely Jamie had a family member to ring up, or even one of the people currently in the room, who seem to care about him very much. You walk closer to Jamie’s bedside to see if there are any damages to his face that you might’ve not been able to see from afar. Your heart beats at a less-rapid pace when you see that physically, he looks fine. He catches your eye with a smile as you look down at him.

Ted Lasso speaks up. You never thought you’d see him in the flesh, just a person on your television that you see when you eat dinner alone. “Well, Jamie here has been hassling us to see his lady since he’s been up. It’s nice to finally put a face to the name! ‘Been a long hour of wonderin’.”

Before you can even retort, like how you didn’t even know Jamie had a girlfriend (like why would you be here if Jamie wants to see his girlfriend—your heart sinks lightly at the thought, but it seems all too selfish to care about that when Jamie’s in a worrying predicament), the blonde girl speaks up.

“You know, I will say that I was mad hurt when I found out Jamie has a girlfriend and didn’t even tell us.”

Yeah, you think. He didn’t tell you, either. 

A tall man grunts from beside her. “How long have you lot been going out, anyway?”

Your head snaps in his direction, eyes wide. 

Jamie’s voice cuts through the room, “For Christ’s fucking sake, can you all stop bombarding her with questions?” He reaches out a small distance to grab your hand and pull you closer to his bedside, your hip now resting against the bed. “It’s fucking annoying.”

Your mind freezes. You look down at your joint hands, then back to his face. 

Surely this has to be some mistake. Jamie is telling everyone that you’re his girlfriend. You can’t tell if he’s joking or not; if this is some sort of bit he wants to play on the very many people in this room that care about his well being. The only time you’ve gotten even close to touching Jamie was whenever his fingers would brush against yours to pick up a crate of carrots. You don’t even know what the inside of his house looks like! There are many facts about him that—though, you would like to know—you don’t know at all. And now he’s gone and told everybody that you’re dating!

The only thing you do know, is that you and Jamie have now got five pairs of eyes on you. 

And they all think that you’re in a relationship. 

“Jamie…” you say, tip-toeing through your next words to make sure you don’t say something that will put him into shock. “How hard did you hit your head?” His hand remains firmly in your own. 

He pouts, turning to a man who’s sitting on a chair in the corner. He’s pouting guiltily, still in his Richmond kit with dirt on his knee pads. 

“Pretty fucking hard,” the man mumbles. His fingers are fidgeting, and you recognize him as Richmond’s captain—Isaac. 

The nurse standing by you nods. “Essentially,” he says, shrugging. 

“Like—extremely hard?”

The nurse sighs. “I’m surprised it’s just a concussion. But nothing seems to be truly wrong; the X-rays would’ve shown.”

(Clearly something more than a concussion must have happened for Jamie to believe that you’re his girlfriend!) 

“Are there any medications, protocol that we should be aware of, Nurse?” Ted chimes in, leaning closer to the center of the room. 

“Recommended actions will be included in his discharge papers. I would say wait a day or two before taking any pain medication. Avoid bright lights, like the telly or your phone. I suggest wearing sunglasses outdoors—though I don’t think that’d be any different than usual. Other than that, I think you will heal just fine. But until then, it looks like your girlfriend has to be your nurse for a bit.”

You choke up again at the mention of that term, a dry cough riding up your throat. Eyes snap towards you, concern immediately filling each iris. 

“Love,” says Jamie, voice in clear pain over his misinterpretation of your emotions. “I’m going to be okay. I always get better. You know that.”

No, you wanted to say, I don’t know that. You wanted to close your eyes and count to ten—meditate maybe, and think of your next moves. You wanted to be back home, stirring broth in a pot instead of getting tangled up in a fiasco that you’re ill-equipped for. 

Unfortunately, none of those are an option for you. And, as you look at Jamie in his hospital gown, your heart constricts. Something plucks a small melody on your heartstrings as you stare into his glazed and hopeful eyes. Hopeful for you. 

You try to give your best smile. One that says, it’s going to be okay. If you worry, it’s clear Jamie will worry. It’s obvious by his expression that his sole focus at the moment is you. 

You’re not sure how convincing the smile is. You feel like a fraud, pretending to be something for Jamie that you’re clearly not. You’re far from being his girlfriend, or even someone Jamie could fancy if his head hadn’t been so fucked up. 

But maybe, though, the smile is convincing enough: his face is elated at your positive acknowledgement towards him. 

“Fucking gross.”

Your body snaps around, yet again acutely aware of the presence of multiple bodies around you, all looking at you and Jamie the same: confusion mixed with wonder (or disgust). It’s clear, though, that the voice had come from Roy Kent himself. 

(He’s known for these things, you guess.)

Frowning, you turn back to Jamie. 

“Oi,” snaps Jamie, eyes shifting gloweringly to Roy. “She hasn’t got a clue of your attitude yet. Pipe down.”

Not wanting to upset Roy Kent, you shake your head vigorously. “Don't even worry. I’m just a little caught off guard at the moment.” You clear your throat, “Um… do you suppose I can speak to the doctor quickly?”

“Doctor!” says Ted loud and eccentrically, no doubt in hopes that his obnoxious manner would lighten the mood. “Let her see the doctor!” 

“Get the fucking doctor here!” says Keeley to the nurse, who merely sputters in return. 

“I-I’ll fetch her right now.”

It only takes a minute for a woman to peek her head through the door. “I heard I am needed.”

Roy groans, and she smirks at him like they both know something that not many get.

“Jamie’s lovely lady wants to have a word with you,” says Ted with a grin when you take a beat too long to reply for yourself.

She turns her head to you, and you nod. 

“Yes,” you say. Prying your hand gently from Jamie’s, you follow the doctor. “I’ll be back,” you add softly.

Once the door is closed behind you two, a large and panicked breath releases from your lips. You finally get to feel how clammy your hands have gotten. “Listen, Doctor…” you look at her quizzically.

“—Doctor O’Sullivan,” she says. 

“O’Sullivan. Thank you.: You breathe in. “I’m not very sure how to say this, but I’m really fucking confused at the moment. Kind of freaking out confused.”

The woman in front of you doesn’t hesitate to place a comforting hand on your elbow. “Is everything alright? Roy had said you were Jamie’s girlfriend; I know how hard this could be on—“

“--That’s the problem!” you can’t help but interrupt, eyes wide and frantic with worry. “I’m not Jamie’s girlfriend. I’m just his neighbor! I’m not sure how him banging his head led me to believe otherwise, but—but I don’t know what to do.”

The doctor stares back at you, mouth agape. 

“Yeah,” you sympathize, nodding your head. “I know.”

Her mouth opens and closes repeatedly. “Um,” she begins, “out of all things you could’ve said… I wasn’t expecting that to come out of your mouth.”

You nod frantically, your voice going down to a worried whisper. “Is his head—like—okay? I’m worried that if he’s remembering stuff that isn’t true, then something may be very wrong with his brain, or whatever part he hit.”

Dr. O’Sullivan sighs, looking down at her clipboard before jotting something down. “Memory loss… things like that tend to happen with the concussion he has. I would be far more concerned if the X-rays showed any trauma, but he truly does seem to be fine. My guess is his memory will come back—maybe slowly, but it will certainly recollect.”

“But do I tell him now?” you ask, in a minor panic. If someone this morning had told you that your neighbor (the one you have been minorly crushing on, mind you) would suffer from a concussion that rendered him thinking you two are in an established relationship… well, you probably wouldn’t know what to say in that situation. But this certainly hadn’t even been in your mind for unexpected things that could possibly happen. 

“My recommendation right now would be no; don’t startle him. His concussion has only just occurred, and it’s best not to confuse him even more. The first and most important goal is to get him back home to rest. Just check in on your comfortability as you go through this, okay? I’ll give you my personal cell, in case you have any dire questions.” She writes down her number on a piece of paper before ripping it off and handing it to you. 

You neatly tuck it into your pocket, nervously smiling at her. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” she replies with a more assured smile compared to yours. She rubs your shoulder comfortingly. “I mean it when I say reach out. This will be difficult to navigate.”

You nod, giving her one last look before you re-enter the room apprehensively. It’s quiet when the door creeks and all eyes are on you, as if wanting to observe your next move. In the array of eyes, Jamie is looking at you with an expectant look, a large smile on his lips as you fidget with the rings on your finger awkwardly. You want to run out of the room, but you remember Dr. O’Sullivan’s words: Don't startle him. 

“Jamie,” your voice is hoarse. The entire group leans a little closer at the sound of your voice, awaiting your next words. You clear your throat. “I’m very worried about you.”

His smile dims. “I’m sorry,” he says guiltily, “I should’ve been more careful.”

Everyone else in shock by his quick admission to his wrongdoings, Isaac stands up suddenly. “It’s my fault, bruv. Your girl should be mad at me.” He bows his head ashamedly. “I’m so sorry.” 

You frown, shaking. “I think everyone in the room can agree that none of this is intentional.” You look around the room for confirmation. “Right?” 

“Jamie’s lady is right!” says Ted. And then, “—wait, does me referring to you at Jamie’s lady dehumanize you? I apologize on my behalf. You are your own woman!”

That manages a small laugh from you. It’s clear Ted’s good-naturedness isn’t just a personality created in the papers. “I’m feeling perfectly humanized, thank you. I don’t blame anyone, I’m just glad you’re okay, Jamie. But I’m very worried. You don’t … seem the best.” You think that we are dating, when all I do is give you fresh veggies. “I want you to get better.” I want you to get your own memories back, because this fabrication in your head is extremely, medically concerning. “But it could be worse!” you add at the end. You could’ve forgotten your own identity, so there’s that! 

The room is silent. 

“I don’t know about y’all,” begins Ted. “But I’m lovin’ the element of concern with added positivity! You’re right, it could’ve been worse! Jamie could be dead.”

“Too much, Ted,” says Rebecca softly. 

Roy grunts. “I thought that was a wonderful, brief visual.”

Jamie’s nose scrunches up in disgust. “What the fuck, man?” 

The older man grunts, angrier. “I said brief.” 

You can’t tell if his comments are a joke or not.

Jamie, appearing to sense your uncomfortableness, is quick to reply, “Oi! What did I say about her not knowing your fucking attitude?”

“It’s okay!” you squeak, not wanting to create more problems in the room. “Let’s focus on getting you home first.” Don't startle him. You need to ease Jamie into any shocks that he might face. You don’t know if there’s anything else Jamie might have misconstrued due to his concussion. For all you know, the poor guy might forget another giant aspect of his life. He needs to rest. “Did you lot by chance take his car here?” 

Keeley nods quickly. “I drove it from the stadium. It’s parked out front.”

“Perfect,” you say, turning back to the man of the hour. “Jamie, is it okay if she drives it back to yours?”

“As long as I get to ride with you.”

Your heart rate strikes at his reply. This is something that is going to take time to get used to. “Good with me. Let’s get you home.”

The arrangement to take him home is simple enough, maybe even the easiest thing you have had to face since arriving. Jamie had already signed his discharge papers, and was free to walk on his own. He manages to look normal enough, but it’s a unanimous agreement for him to not drive on his own. Keeley is off to drive Jamie’s car back to his place, already knowing his new address. He bids goodbye to the rest of the group, and they offer their own forms of condolences (Roy’s is just a grunt).

“It’s a pleasure meeting you!” says Ted. “You’re gonna have to stop by Nelson Road sometime. You know, introduce you to the rest of the team.”

You fight a frown, because you shouldn’t. You probably won’t. But, hating to be rude to Ted, you reciprocate his hospitality with a warm smile. “I appreciate that. It was wonderful to meet everyone, even in these circumstances. I’m glad that Jamie is in the right hands.”

Ted nods solemnly. “Always. Now, go take care of that son of a gun!”

—

“Don't ever think I’ve ever been in your car before,” mumbles Jamie sadly. You’ve never been in my car. Or my home. Nor have I ever been to yours. 

You fight the thoughts running through your head, about to comment on his dejectedness, when you remember what Dr. O’Sullivan had said about Jamie avoiding sunlight. “Wait!” You open your glove compartment, shuffling through the various coins and junk inside until you find what you’ve been looking for. 

The sunglasses may not be what Jamie prefers. They belong to your younger cousin, Jolie. Sometimes you’re tasked with picking her up from school when your aunts can’t. Along with the task of picking her up and babysitting the six-year-old for a few hours, you often find things that she had left behind, or forgotten. You keep the hot pink cat-eye sunglasses for whenever she’s in your car and wants to put them on (they make her feel older). They may be a little small on Jamie, but you don’t care. His concussion is going to be treated attentively on your watch, whether he is okay with that or not. It’s the least you feel that you can do, considering roleplaying as his girlfriend isn’t exactly ideal. 

“Here you are!” you happily exclaim, unfolding the sunglasses, putting them on by yourself before he can get a chance to protest. 

The thing is, you truly don’t know what Jamie is like. You’ve had multiple interactions, but all so surface-level that it’s hard to tell if it’s a front he’s put up or not. For all you know—and for what you expect—he’ll take the sunglasses off and question why he has to wear that pair (toxic masculinity, and all that bullshit that you’re accustomed to from men). 

To your surprise, he doesn’t even make a move to adjust them. Instead, he moves the rearview mirror to get a better look at himself. You giggle lightly as he moves his face around to observe his look. 

The sound makes him smile. “I look good. These mine now?”

You scoff. “They’re Jolie's, don't even think about it,” you reply starkly, not even thinking about the fact that he doesn’t know who Jolie is. 

For Jamie, however, that appears to be the first thing he thinks about. Because there’s a moment-long pause, and it feels very thick, before he replies, “Jolie?”

“Oh—my cousin,” you say plainly. You begin to pull out of your spot, checking your side mirror to see if any cars are coming by. 

You might’ve been driving for a minute, silently. You aren’t sure what to say because, again, this is not the type of interaction with Jamie that you’re used to. Besides, you figure that maybe the silence will be good since Jamie has spent god-knows how long in absolute worry and chaos. Your mind goes back to the soup on your stove. You had turned the heat off, and placed the lid on your pot to finish when you get home.

Jamie is the first to break the silence. He says your name slowly, almost embarrassingly. 

You furrow your brows at his tone, giving him a quick glance before laying your eyes back on the road. “Yes? Is everything alright?”

“Am I—“ he clears his throat, “Am I supposed to know about Jolie? Have we spoken about her before? I just don’t remember anything about her.”

You’re in shock for a moment, not expecting that question to come from him. 

You realize, at this moment, the weight of Jamie’s concussion. Not only is it going to be physically taxing for him to avoid doing certain things until he’s better, but the mental toll of feeling like he doesn’t remember things will also certainly pain him. He thinks that the two of you are together—meaning he expects himself to know aspects about your life that you two had never discussed before. 

Not only is Jamie a blank slate to you, but you are to him. 

The only problem is he thinks that the blank slate is wrong. 

“I’ve never spoken of her before, Jamie,” you say softly. 

You hear him exhale. 

“You don’t need to worry about forgetting, okay?” you add. “If I’m very concerned by anything you don’t seem to remember, I’ll be sure to tell you. And I’m sure everyone at work will do the same, as well.” You take a left turn, following the GPS on your phone back to your neighborhood. 

“Thank you,” he says. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize. I’m here to support you. Patiently.”

A less-tense silence fills the car for the remainder of the drive. Jamie has his head leaning against the passenger window. You don’t need to see under the glasses to know that his eyes are shut, likely to gain as much rest as possible. 

When you finally arrive back at your neighboring homes, Keeley is already sitting on the steps that lead to Jamie’s door, his car parked perfectly in his usual spot.

After parking as close to Jamie's home as possible (you’ll fix your spot later), you move to open his passenger door, but he gets out by himself. He places his hand on the small of your back, guiding you off the edge of the street and onto the sidewalk.

Keeley smiles softly at the pair in front of her, extending her hands to give you Jamie’s set of keys. “Hey, guys!”

You smile back, quietly using the keys she just handed you to unlock Jamie’s front door while the two converse behind you on his current state. She worriedly asks him how his head feels, to which Jamie gives a very detailed explanation on how it feels like a giant is squeezing around his head with a pressure that can pop his brains out. 

“Gross,” mumbles Keeley. “Please go to bed.”

“Yeah, yeah,” says Jamie, “that’s what everyone’s telling me. Thanks for bringing me car, I appreciate it.”

“Of course. My payment requirement is—sorry to jam it—get some fucking rest.” She stands by the doorway as you and Jamie enter his house. “Roy’s a couple of minutes away. I’m gonna wait out here and contemplate stealing those peonies from that house down there.”

You pause. “… That’s my place.”

“Oh shit! My bad, babe. I promise I wasn’t going to do anything.”

You laugh. “Please, go ahead if you would like. I’ve been told it’s practically a forest.”

She laughs. “Maybe next time. Stay safe, yeah?” She’s walking down the steps as you both bid her a goodbye.

You smile up at Jamie as he guides you further down his hallway, and into the kitchen. He immediately goes into his fridge to pull out some water, chugging it down.

You stand in your spot awkwardly, watching as Jamie pulls the sunglasses further up when his head finally levels from drinking. “...Um, if you don’t need anything else, do you think you’ll be fine on your own?” you ask. You feel better now that Jamie is in the comfort of his own home. “I had food on the stove, and wanted to finish it up. I’ll have a bowl for you as well, if you’d like.” You already make a plan in your head to put it in an isolated thermos to leave on his doorstep so that he can still access it and have his alone time.

“But you’ll be back, right?”

Your brows furrow. “Do you want me to come back?”

“Of course,” he says, like it’s the thing he’s most sure of. 

You smile. “Then I’ll be back,” you reply, mind scrapping the doorstep plan. “With creamy vegetable soup.”

“Fuck yeah,” he says. He closes the fridge and makes his way to you. 

You don’t know what you’re expecting… maybe a hug at most. 

But your eyes shoot up as Jamie leans down, his lips puckering slightly as his face inches closer to yours. 

You instinctively place your hand on his chest, quickly stopping him from going any further. “Woah, wait.”

Jamie pulls back further immediately, his brows furrowing from above the pink sunglasses he wears. If this were any other situation, you’d find his look comical.

“What’s wrong, love?” he says so sweetly that you may feel sick, if the nickname isn’t enough to nearly make you faint. He places a hand on your shoulder, rubbing softly. 

You try your best to conjure up words for this situation, as well as trying to concentrate on the conversation instead of the soft ministrations on your shoulder. “It’s just—we’re moving too fast. You’re moving too fast.”

“Huh?” replies Jamie quizzically, “Do we not… kiss?” When your eyes hold more panic, he makes the conclusion for himself. “So, we’re dating and we’ve never kissed? Am I a fucking idiot?” The last part is mostly to himself, and you backtrack immediately, rewiring your brain into thinking of a half decent explanation. 

“I mean… I don’t know. I just feel bad,” you say. “You have a concussion and don’t remember some things. I don’t want to overwhelm you, and make you do things that you might regret.”

Jamie frowns. “Why would I regret kissing you?” 

You wince, making the edges of his lips turn down even more. 

He looks as if he’s been punched in the gut. “...Would it make you uncomfortable? If I kissed you?”

“It—“ you think about it for a moment. You don’t think kissing Jamie would make you uncomfortable at all. It is something you fantasize about, but only when you’re alone. And not under these circumstances. So, you reply truthfully, “I think it would,” because you just can’t find it in you to physically reciprocate affection that was never properly established in the first place. 

“Is it because I don’t remember our first kiss?”

There never was one. “… Yeah.”

Jamie looks off before nodding. “Okay. I’ll do everything in my power to remember,” he says surely.

Well, shit. It’s going to be very hard for Jamie to try and remember something that never even happened. You wonder now if you should just alleviate the guilt right now, and break the truth to him: you have never dated, nor even kissed once. Maybe the interactions you’ve had with him when handing over a batch of carrots seemed delusionally romantic in your mind, that’s not how it went at all. 

There’s a feeling in you that makes you want to take care of Jamie and make sure that he’s okay. The thought of abandoning him now feels almost cruel, he clearly trusts you enough to keep you around. 

Normally, this would be no issue. 

But with what you know, a heavy weight fills your chest.

[yamumsyadadd]

missing sister (2)

Part 1

there will be 1 more in this series, set in the future.

“Nena, wake up. Noah? We need to leave.” Waking up was very disorienting. This was certainly not the bed from Keira’s apartment. It was too comfy, too warm and safe. 

“Alexia?” 

“Yes nena. You slept here last night. You’re coming with me and Olga. She’s going to drop me off at training and then you two are going to hang out.” 

Weird but okay. Begrudgingly, you got up. Taking the clothes handed to me from Olga and letting her guide me through to the bathroom. There were a lot of fancy things in there. Some smelt very nice, others did not. 

The hot shower and fancy products felt good. As soon as you stepped foot in the living area, Olga and Alexia stopped talking. Both turning to smile at me and usher you to the door. The car ride was quiet until we arrived at the training ground. 

“You’ll go with Olga today, I’ll talk to Keira and Lucy. We will see you later okay?” You nodded, not looking at her as she got out of the car. 

“Avísame si pasa algo. Mi amor, por favor, no la dejes fuera de tu vista. Te quiero.” She kissed Olga and walked away. 

Olga patted the front seat she was previously sitting in. “Mi amiga, piano. You like piano yes?” 

“I do yes.” 

“Perfecto! We go.” Her smile was infectious. There was something about Olga, the way she seemed to live so carefree. She was confident, within herself, her relationship with Alexia and her job. 

“Claudia Habla inglés. She good.” She led us up a small alleyway between two house, finally reaching someone’s backyard. There was a fire pit in the middle, couches and chairs surrounded it. Whoever lived here was very popular. 

“¡Hola Olga! ¡Como en!” The cheerful voice belonged to a blonde curly haired woman who has just as many tattoos as María. 

“Hola, Claud. Esta es Noah, la chica de la que te hablé”.

“HI Noah, I’m Claudia. Olga says you like the piano?” You nodded your head, hiding slightly behind Olga, “come this way, I have an old Steinway & Sons.” 

The piano was beautiful, situated in what looked to be a reading room. One wall covered in books, the other covered in paintings and photos, the main wall with big windows. It was like out of a movie. 

You sat down at the piano and started to play. It felt like only a few minutes had passed before Claudia and Olga came in for lunch. 

“What is that?” You pointed towards the weird cake looking thing on the table. 

“Tortilla.” Olga sat down, taking a drink and giving you a look to do the same. 

“It’s basically an omelette. Eggs, potatoes, oil, onion.  I have tomato sauce if you want it?” 

“Sure. Thanks.” It had the same texture as a normal omelette but it tasted better. It was heavier, thanks to the potatoes. Spanish food was mostly better than English, expect for the fish and chips. Nothing topped ours. 

No one spoke during lunch time, or while we cleaned up. 

“Have you heard from Alexia?” You asked Olga quietly. She shook her head, giving your shoulder a squeeze. You went back and sat at the piano, staying there until a very stressed Olga came in. 

The conversation between Alexia, Keira and Lucy was over and we needed to leave.

“After practice we need to talk please Keira. Lucia come too.” Alexia was firm but not unkind with her voice. 

From the moment Keira, Lucy and Alexia sat down, Keira was on edge, ready to defend whatever her little sister did. 

“Noah is with Olga, at Claudia’s house. She has said some things, I’ve noticed some things and no doubt Lucy too.” Alexia started, she didn’t want to come off aggressive or accuse her of anything. 

“What Alexia? What has Noah said?” 

“You know she’s plays piano? Draws very good too. Better than Mapi, better than anyone I’ve seen. She feels as though you, and your parents do not care about her, see her-“

“that’s ridiculous! We all care about her! She’s just a dramatic teenage.” 

“Keira.” Lucy saw it. She’s seen it from the beginning. Birthdays were missed in favour of Keira’s games, every time she spoke to the Walsh parents all they would talk about was Keira, never Noah. If she didn’t know Noah existed, there would be no trace. “She was going to music school in London. She’d catch the train, stay with Leah and come home. Your parents never noticed because they were never around. From an outsider, you wouldn’t know Noah existed to your parents, or really to you.” 

“What the hell are you saying Lucy? I talk about her, I care about her. I took her in didn’t I? She’s here because I took her instead of letting them ship her off to a boarding school!” Keira was defensive, she didn’t want to believe what both Alexia and Lucy were saying. 

“She’s given up a lot for you, because of you.” Alexia said. 

“I never asked her too!” 

“For fuck sake Kei. She’s a child. A child. She didn’t have a choice. You have been so consumed by your own life, your own relationships that you can’t even see it. She’s 16, yet she acts like an adult because that’s the only way people will take notice of her.” 

There was only silence that followed for the next few minutes. 

“I spoke to Leah, which for the record was hard because she speaks so fast and her accent is worse than yours, but I suggest you talk to her, then talk to Noah but don’t get defensive. Listen to what she has to say, really listen. Itll be hard to hear it but I think it’s needed.” Alexia stood up, squeezing Keira’s shoulder then leaving. Sending Olga a text to bring Noah home so Keira or Lucy could pick her up. 

“What the hell do I do Lucy?” 

“Do as capi said, talk to Leah, then listen to Noah.” 

“Have you known the entire time?” 

“No. I told you during the world cup what she told me, but I don’t think that was the full story.” 

“I just thought she didn’t want to be there, that she was missing her friends, her life, I didn’t realise it was something more.” 

Silence took over the trio, their drinks empty, minds full. 

“What do I do?” Keira asked. 

“Listen to her, don’t interrupt her or anything. Let her tell you how she’s been feeling and what’s been happening.” 

“Is she at your apartment?” 

“No she’s with Olga but I’ll message her to bring her back.” 

It didn’t take long for the trio to arrive at Alexia and Olga’s apartment, you were still beaming from happiness until Lucy and Keira walked in. It was a weird feeling, having a happy day seemingly ripped through your fingers when Keira said the simple words of ‘we need to talk.’ 

The drive back to Keira’s was rough. Everyone was anxious, no one said a word. The futile attempt to escape to your room the second you entered was halted by Lucy’s strong arms guiding you to the couch. 

“I want you to tell me everything. I will not talk, I will not make judgment or anything but I need to know Noah.” Keira said, she tried to be firm, but it came out more as a plea. 

“There’s nothing to tell.” 

“Don’t play dumb. You’re a completely different kid with Alexia and Olga, even with Leah. Why?” 

“Why?” You scoffed, “can’t you figure it out yourself?” 

“No because what I thought was that you were just a bad kid. I was told you were skipping school, sneaking out, doing drugs. But here, here you’re different so what gives?” 

“It wasn’t sneaking out or skipping school. Technically.” Keira gave you a look so you continued, “anytime I asked to go out, ma and dad would just say ‘do whatever, we won’t be home later’, blah blah blah. It wasn’t sneaking only ever sneaking out when they had friends over and needed to keep up appearances. As for the skipping school, I was enrolled in special music and art classes at the TAFE, then I’d go to London for classes on Saturday’s.” 

“And the drugs? Vapping?” 

“I tried weed once. That’s all I swear. I didn’t like the feeling so I didn’t do it again. The others did but I didn’t. And yeah I’ve vaped, not since I’ve been here though.” 

“Ma and dad never said anything about your music classes.“ 

“Yeah because they didn’t know, or care. I’m not sure but I didn’t want to find out.” 

“Why didn’t you come to me? You went to Leah, even Lucy but you wouldn’t come to me. Why Noah?” Keira was getting frustrated, she was hurt and confused. 

“how could I? You were here or busy with your life in Manchester. You said it yourself, you believed what they told you. Everything was always about you Keira, not me. I was always told not to both you because you were busy. Every year it got worse, missing birthdays, missing Christmas, missing art shows or recitals.” 

The tears that had formed in both yours and Keira’s eyes were now free flowing. Lucy was sat in the armchair, Narla curled up at her feet. She was there purely to keep the peace, to make sure both sides were heard. 

“My art is good. Really good. Olga paid me to make a drawing for Alexia, Jana has asked me to draw a photo of her and Jill in Amsterdam, so many people have paid me for commission art. I have thousands saved and I was planning on leaving as soon as I turned 18. I taught Leah how to play the piano, I’ve sold music sheets, done a Christmas concert at the London Music Hall. I get good grades, good enough that I can go to college in America if I want, but no one knows because no one cares.”

“I care.” Keira chocked back a sob, feeling a mixture of pride and guilt. Guilt for being so wrapped up in her own world that she forgot to include you in hers. “I care noodle. I’m so proud of you truly. I want to fix this. Fix it all. Please just tell me what I need to do.” 

“Don’t make me go back. Not to Manchester, if I have to go back I’ll stay in London or-“

“You’re not going back, Noah.” Lucy said firmly. Yes you were Keira’s sister, but for the majority of your life, Lucy was around. So to her, you were also her sister and she felt just as bad as Keira. “You’ll either stay here with Keira, or you can stay with me. Alexia and Olga would even take you too. Maybe we need to do a custody agreement between the four of us.” 

Before you had a chance to do anything, Keira launched herself into your body. Hugging you as tight as humanly possible. You’d give her the benefit of doubt, she didn’t know but it didn’t excuse anything. 

The relationship between you and your parents was less than good, but it didn’t really matter to you. You had your art and your music. No one could take that away from you. 

By winter break, things with Keira were better. Not perfect, but you were sisters so that was unlikely. Her plan was to go home to England for Christmas, however you didn’t want to. Alexia and Olga both agreed you’d come with them and with their help, Keira agreed. 

When Olga finally gifted the hand drawn photo to Alexia, there were a lot of tears. Alexia rugby tackled you to the ground, kissing all over your face while crying happy tears. Eli thanked you as well, in a much more gentle way. 

It was the first Christmas that things felt good. You weren’t around purely to keep up appearances, you didn’t have to hide away or force conversation with anyone. 

Maybe Spain was where you’d find a home, and a person to share that home with. 

[areyouwell]

Sciophobia

Noun: An extreme fear of shadows. An adult or child with Sciophobia may experience extreme stress and anxiety in everyday life due to the nature of light and shadow.

Ch.2

Ch.1 <---

Pairing: Logan Howlett x F!Mutant!Reader

Warnings: the most DISGUSTING, tooth-achingly sweet fluff, like candyfloss-style shit. i vomited twice writing it and once again proofreading it. they make pasta together for TWO THOUSAND WORDS so if that ain't yer thing im sorry the good stuff will start soon. and by that i mean body horror. i threw up writing that for a completely different reason...

Word count: 11k (strap in and strap on folks)

A/N: as mentioned in the warnings, this is almost pure fluff. sure there's MC rage so strong my timbers were shivered but other than that it's mostly fluff. i want you guys to know, i am setting us all up for failure, because this WILL get sad. but it'll get hot first, then downright filthy, the a little disgusting before it gets sad, we got a while to go so booties ch.2 LFG

Taglist: @badbishsblog @reidsworld @idioticstar @toogaytofunctiondangit

“Maybe just try… concentrating harder?” 

It took all of your willpower not to cross the few steps it would take to punch Scott’s lights out. Why the Professor assigned him to help with your training, you’d never know. Sure, it wasn’t like you were constantly at each other’s throats like he and Logan seemed to be, but you never exactly saw eye to eye either. Scott was too… neat, for you. He liked rules too much, always following what his head told him he should do, rather than following his heart or gut. It was infuriating on missions, and you’d had plenty of arguments about the correct course of action before he became the de facto leader whether you liked it or not. 

That was shortly before you went away, so you didn’t really have much time to experience the dictatorship of Scott Summers, and now you were back, you weren’t entirely sure you wanted to. 

“Ya know what Scott? I’d never thought of doing that, thanks!” you bit sarcastically, sweat beading along your brow. You’d been at this for well over an hour now, hour two fast approaching with no progress. You’d successfully shadow-walked, though Cyclops noted your hesitation to do so. But could he blame you? The idea of shadow-walking and then suddenly not having the strength to pull yourself back together, or whatever it was you did, was quite frankly, terrifying. 

Scott sighed, placing a hand on his hip and running the other through his hair. “Alright, take ten, I’ll talk to the Professor.” He said, already making his way towards the iron doors. You let loose a frustrated breath, bracing your hands across the back of your neck. This was hopeless. Utterly hopeless. What’s worse, is that there was no proof you could actually do those things. No proof that was the Professor was saying was fucking true. 

You were glad the back wall was cast in shadow as you stormed across the floor, sending your fist careening into the metalwork, instantly regretting your outburst when the crack of your split knuckles rang out louder than the punch itself. Clamping your lips between your teeth to stop yourself from crying out, you let yourself breathe through the pain, savouring it just slightly. It was good. Pain was good. It reminded you how you weren’t just a pile of shadows wandering aimlessly through the air yet. You doubted you could feel a broken hand if you didn’t have a hand to feel with. 

Turning your back to the wall, you slid down to the floor, head buried between your knees with your arms casing you in, throbbing hand gripping your opposite shoulder tightly. You wouldn’t cry. You would. Not. Cry. That wasn’t you. You don’t cry. Since when did you cry?

This was how Logan found you. He’d been stuck in a meeting with Xavier and Storm all morning, going over the blueprints of the latest rescue mission the team would embark on. Though in all honesty, he was barely listening, his thoughts disobediently drifting back to you. The memory of your smile, the teasing lilt in your voice, the way your arms felt wrapped around his neck, the scent of your hair invading his heightened nose. He wondered how you were getting on with Scott, and he pitied the fact you were having to do this with Scott. That was until the man of the hour walked through the doors, disrupting the meeting and finally releasing him back into the world. 

It’s no wonder his feet led him straight to you, you’d been on his mind that much. So to see you like this, curled up against the opposite wall, your hand an angry red, it tugged at his heart. 

You didn’t seem to notice him as he crossed the room, only looking up when he kicked the gym mat with his foot. There was that smile again. The one that didn’t reach your eyes and only serve to fool people who were fucking idiots into thinking you were okay. 

The last person you expected to see walk through those doors was Logan. Last you’d heard, he was stuck in a meeting with Charles and Ororo. Scott was initially furious he’d been asked to help develop your mutation instead of intent ‘crucial strategy meetings’ so he called them, but he soon lightened up when you not-so-subtly reminded him it’s because Charles thought he was the best option to help you. 

You sighed heavily, bracing your good hand on your knee as you rose to your feet. For Logan to see you in such a sorry state wasn’t high on your list of priorities. You were pretty sure it wasn’t on that list at all. 

“Not goin’ well?” he asked softly, and you had to grit your teeth to stop yourself from tearing up. You watched his eyes flicker from your face to your hand, thick brows pinching in concern. You followed his line of sight, not that you needed to, you could fucking feel your knuckles pulsing fire up your arm. 

“Uh, no, not really. I’d love to say I did this punching Scott, but he left before I could, so I took it out on the wall instead.” You half smiled, and Logan found himself blowing out a huff of laughter. Even in this state, in this mindset, you could still find humour. 

Sinking your hand into the shadows across the wall behind you, you felt the familiar tingle of, what you now know was your body breaking apart, before the slight itch of pulling it back together as you dragged it back out, good as new. 

Logan thought for a moment, hazel eyes flicking from you to the shadows behind you. “Have you tried–”

“If you’re about to say ‘concentrating harder’ I might have to hurt you.” You interrupted, much to his amusement.

“I’m assumin’ that’s what Scott said?”

“Word for fucking word,” you said with a slight lopsided smile. Now that one reached your eyes. 

Logan took a few steps forward, now borderline pinning you against the wall. If it wasn’t for his hearing, he would have missed the way your breath hitched slightly, the slight shudder in your exhale. He chalked it down to your apprehension toward your situation. He had to. Giving himself hope like that just led to a shit load of hurt.

“What I was goin’ to say, was have ya tried from in there?” he raised a brow, his eyes looking past you and at the wall behind, and you had to take a minute to remember what you were talking about, his proximity all but throwing all and any thought out the window. It was achingly familiar to yesterday in the kitchen.

“You might be onto something…” you breathed when you remembered how to form words. Now you were thinking about it, he could be right. Why on earth were you trying to call the shadows to you, when you could drag them out with you? However, the idea of once again disappearing into shadow didn’t fill you with the same sense of freedom it once did. 

And Logan could see it. The hesitation, apprehension. You’d told him you were scared last night, but this was the first time he’d seen it. “I’ll be right here, yeah?” Fuck the way you looked at him shattered his heart. You wanted to be brave, you wanted to have the same sense of wonder you always did when it came to your mutation. He looked at the clench of your jaw, the flare of your nostrils as you nodded. 

“Alright… don’t go anywhere.” you half-joked, sliding your hands down the cool wall behind you, feeling your skin tingle at the mere idea of disappearing into the darkness. 

“Where would I go? You’re right here.” Logan responded, placing his index finger on the centre of your forehead and pushing ever so slightly. It gave you enough courage to fall back into the darkness, feeling the release of those threads holding your corporeal body together. 

Logan wasn’t really sure why he said that and he hoped to fuck you were too nervous about this whole thing to actually register what he’d said. He breathed out a sigh of relief when he watched you fold into the shadow, taking a few steps back and looking at his watch. Any longer than three minutes and he’ll start to think this was a really bad idea. Though, he probably should have told you that before you disappeared. 

Fuck.

It was always a strange sensation. Your consciousness was still intact, but the rest of your body had disappeared, scattered into a million different pieces. Probably billions. You couldn’t see, but you didn’t need to. You could sense. Sense the layout of the room. Sense where the shadows begin and where they end. Everything became nothing, and it was freedom. Quieting your thoughts, you concentrated. Concentrated on pulling. It was the same itching sensation you felt when leaving the shadows, except you tried to ground yourself.

Ground yourself in a place that had literally no ground.

This was fucking impossible.

You felt yourself slipping, the shadows around you not knowing what it was you were asking. Did the shadows have consciousness too? You didn’t know. Who fucking knew? And you didn’t fucking care. You tried to concentrate again, pulling against those threads you used to bring yourself from one place to the other toward you.

And only succeeding in moving again. Walking. This was no fucking different to what you’ve always done. Just moving from one point to the next. You’d already fucking mastered that. 

But at least one good thing had come from this. You weren’t afraid anymore. 

You were fucking angry.

Your consciousness writhed like a ball of angry vipers, pulling at all and any threads you could sense around you, flicking from one place to another with no rhyme or reason, no direction. 

If you could scream, you would have done. If you could lash out, you would have done. Rage rippled through your senses, those threads around you thrashing and flailing. Useless. Fucking useless. Maybe this was the fate you deserved. Disappearing into nothing, being nothing. Maybe you did deserve it. 

But you wouldn’t fucking accept it. Not yet.

This is “–fucking POINTLESS!” you roared, stepping from the shadow, your body itching all over, buzzing with adrenaline, your back almost burning. Your eyes took time to adjust to the light again, but you were too furious to register anything. “What’s the fucking point? Nothing works! I can’t pull them toward me, I can’t pull them with me, this is fucking stupid!” you continued your tirade, almost feeling the physical weight of your failure heavy upon your shoulders. “I can’t fucking do it, so why bother trying? It’s been a day and I’m already sick of this shit!” you heaved, breath searing your newly formed lungs, sending shockwaves of fire through your shoulder blades. You couldn’t remember a time when you’d been this angry. “If this stupid fucking mutation doesn’t kill me I’ll do it myself I swear to fucking god and what the FUCK are you smiling at Logan?!” You bellowed, your eyes finally registering what they were seeing. 

Logan had probably the world’s most gorgeous smile, and you wished you weren’t too pissed off to appreciate it. But before he had time to answer, Scott and Charles entered the room, Scott dropped a mug of what looked like freshly brewed coffee straight onto the floor, the shattering of the ceramic lingering in the air as the room fell deadly silent. 

“What?” you asked, now slightly fearful as the three men peered at you, each with a different expression. Scott seemed utterly horrified, his jaw slack and agape. Charles looked almost smug, a knowing smile pulling at his lips. And Logan?

Logan just grinned at you, arms folded across his chest. “You did it,” he whispered, nodding to what you thought was the wall behind you. Your eyes lingered on his as you turned your head, finally looking at what everyone else in the room seemed to be seeing. 

Honestly, you were fucking shocked you didn’t notice. At least now the burning in your shoulder blades had an explanation. 

Two broad, rippling wings of pure shadow spread wide from your back, the darkness almost pulsing along with your rapid heartbeat. It felt good, and you noted the lack of pressure about your body. Those threads that seemed constantly under strain had loosened, seemingly constantly fed by the shadows at your back. 

You slowly pulled at the strings, watching the wings move and shift with your intentions. Your fury dissolved as you watched in complete awe, along with the three others in the room. They folded close to your back and you felt the buzzing of energy against your leg, before you extended them again to their full size, tips grazing either side of the room. 

“Wh… H-how?” Scott managed to stutter, taking a cautious step forward. You looked from your shadows to Cyclops. 

“It, uh, it was Logan’s idea. Pull them out with me rather than trying to pull them towards me…” you were still reeling, slowly extending your fingers before trying to move the rest of your body. You didn’t know how much concentration it was taking to keep them intact, and you were a little afraid of letting them slip. Your breath came heavy as if you’d run around the estate at least four times. 

Logan looked back at Scott, unable to help his ‘fuck you’ brow raise. And to his satisfaction, Scott clicked his tongue in irritation. He turned back to you when he heard your slight laugh, clearly having noticed the silent exchange between them.

“How did you even know about this?” Scott asked accusingly.

“She told me.” Logan retorted as if it was the most obvious response on the planet. Scott just stood there in shock.

“She… she told you? She told you. As in, the one over there?” Cyclops pointed at you and you flipped him off in return.

“Yeah? Who else would we be talkin’ ‘bout?”

“It’s just, she doesn’t tend to… do that,”

“She is right fucking here!” you held your arms up, gesturing to yourself in a way that thankfully returned the boys’ attention back to the situation at hand. 

“Yeah well, this is all well and good,” Scott continued, crouching now to pick up the larger pieces of the shattered mug, “but how do you release them?” he finished. 

He had a point. You couldn’t wander around the school with two giant wings stuck to your back, as much as you wanted to. How would you get through the doorways? Xavier wheeled forward until he was next to Logan, his face now much more serious.

“Carefully. Release it too quickly and the threads could go with them,”

“Wouldn’t that just mean she would be back in the shadow?” Logan asked, slight concern lacing his baritone voice. There was a catch here, and every single one of you knew it. 

“Ordinarily yes, however, she cannot disappear into her own shadow. If she releases those threads anywhere other than back to its original form, there’s a risk of her disappearing with it and getting stuck,” He explained, to nobody’s understanding. You knew you couldn’t disappear into your own shadow, you’d tried before and your body simply wouldn’t let you. 

“So wait… I can pull the shadow with me but have to return it to where it was, essentially?” you asked, slowly so that your question could be understood, even by yourself. Charles nodded, and you took a deep breath in an attempt to calm yourself. 

Logan couldn’t help but feel partly to blame for this. He’d encouraged you to take this step, to try alternate methods of developing your mutation, and now he had, you were stuck like this until you felt sure you could release it carefully. Shit.

‘She made it this far because of you. We have a chance at changing her fate because of you, Logan. You cannot regret that.’ It was always jarring when the Professor found his way into his head, and it wasn’t the least bit soothing. What did ease him a little, however, was your slight reassuring smile, renewed with confidence. 

You could see he was battling with guilt, terrified that he may have endangered you. But you could do this. You’d already managed to achieve something you never thought you could today, what’s one more miracle?

“Hooookay, let’s try this… carefully, right?” it was a rhetorical question because honestly? You were a little scared, and stalling seemed to give you time to collect your thoughts and calm your slightly stuttering heart.

“Carefully,” Charles instructed, and you nodded once before taking another deep breath. Holding it for a few moments, you tightened the threads you hoped to fuck were holding you together, keeping them in place before blowing out the breath, releasing your connection to the wings behind your back. You felt them bleed down your shoulders, shivering slightly as the shadows snaked down your legs and back against the wall behind you, returning to their original state. 

You’d closed your eyes at some point, honestly, you couldn’t remember when. You were scared to open them, scared to see if you’d fucked anything up, if parts of your body were just completely shadow, or whether you had accidentally grown multiple limbs or something. You knew your mind was running away from you, but you couldn’t help it, as ridiculous as it felt.

Logan smiled slightly to himself as he watched the shadows wash away and return to the wall, and that inward smile broadened when he noticed you weren’t moving, eyes clenched shut, your hands balled into fists, your shoulders tensed and hunched. He stepped forward and up to you, gently bracing his hands on either side of your neck, thumbs angling your jaw up a little. Your soft gasp didn’t escape his ears.

“Y’alright?” He asked, eyes searching your face before finding your own gaze, your lids having fluttered open. You visibly relaxed, one hand that was previously balled into a tight fist now gently sliding up his wrist, resting atop his forearm. Your touch was electric, fingertips sending shivers down his spine. 

“Fine, I think,” you responded, gliding your nails through the hair on his arm. It was an absent response to his touch. You wanted to be closer to him, to bury your head in the crook of his neck and breathe in his pinewood scent. His breath was a mix of mint and tobacco, and you wondered if his lips had a permanent hint of whiskey if you were to taste them, having been told by a grumbling Jean that was who the hidden, half-empty bottle in the cupboard belonged to.

You instantly mourned the loss of his touch when he stepped back, though you were grateful he did. You’d been dangerously close to kissing him, and whilst you still wanted to, perhaps not without an audience of Charles and Scott.

“How are you feeling?” You blinked when the Professor addressed you directly, having forgotten what living in reality was like for a few moments. Nodding along with an answer you hadn’t voiced yet, you grinned along with a deep, contorting rumble of your stomach.

“Apparently, starving.” A chuckle escaped your lips and you braced a hand against your stomach in an attempt to soothe away the uncomfortable feeling of hunger. 

“I think that’s enough for today. Logan, could you take this one to the kitchen? Make sure she’s fed.” There was a knowing look in Professor Xavier’s eye that Logan wasn’t sure he liked. Sure, he may have just lovingly held your face whilst bringing you back from the brink of terror, but that didn’t mean there was anything going on between the two of you. You met yesterday!

“Sure.” he shrugged, trying his damnest to sound nonchalant about it. You stretched your arms up above your head, popping your elbows slightly as you followed Logan from the room, feeling a thousand times lighter than you did when you entered two hours ago. Honestly, you couldn’t believe you’d succeeded. 

The doors closed behind you with a soft swish, and you paused to appreciate the man walking ahead of you. You’d known each other for less than twenty-four hours, and yet you’d tear the fabric of the universe apart to ensure his safety. You knew almost nothing about him, and yet you felt the strangest pull towards him, a yearning to be around him, to be near him. It was infuriating, but so fucking exciting at the same time. Could this maybe be something? Did he feel this weird connection too? Or was it just your delusions working overtime? Honestly, hard to say.

“Take a picture, it’d last longer.”

You snapped from your daze to notice he’d turned back to you, realising you weren’t following him. Flashing him a broad smile, refusing to feel any kind of embarrassment that he’d caught you practically staring at him, you jogged a little to catch up, effortlessly falling into step beside him.

“Wanted to thank you,” you looked up at him through the corner of your eye, catching his own gaze. 

“What for?”

“Everything. Logan, I’ve known you for less than a full day and you’ve already helped me more than people I’ve known practically my whole life. The Professor excluded. So yeah, thanks.” You shrugged, hitting the button on the lift to take you both back up to the ground floor. The doors closed and you leaned against the back wall, crossing one ankle over the other. 

“You need better friends if you’re thankin’ me for anythin’. Wouldn’t anyone else do the same?” he asked, mirroring your stance against the adjacent wall, folding his arms across his chest. You snorted a laugh, and he found himself smiling at you.

“Yeah, friends would, but like I said, we haven’t even known each other a full twenty-four hours yet.”

Logan cocked a brow, his smile morphing back to a small smirk. “Well pardon me, princess, I thought we were friends.” 

You rolled your eyes, and Logan had a horrendous feeling he’d misread the entire situation between you. “I mean like, lifelong friends, asshole. People I’ve known ever since I can remember. Not people I met yesterday,” you finished, gently kicking his foot with your own. Logan straightened up as the lift slowed to reach the ground floor, softly flicking your forehead in response to your kick, causing you to bat his hand away.

“Yeah, well, what can I say? You made an impact,” he shrugged, and you grinned.

“Oh yeah?”

“Don’t let it get to your head, bub. I’m just sayin’ you show up after not existin’ and immediately cause trouble.” he watched your expression shift from mischievous to a sheepish pout, unable to beat the trouble-maker allegations. He sighed slightly. “But hey, maybe I like trouble.” The doors opened for the both of you to leave, Logan being the first to make his exit. Though, you stayed behind for a beat.

“Or maybe trouble just likes you,” you retorted with that same lopsided smile he’d come to admire so much, before pushing back against the wall to join him. 

“Yeah well, ‘m’not mad about it either way,” he mumbled, and you thought better about teasing him for it. You imagined this was about as close as he was gonna get to voicing genuine care for you, so you let it drop, simply humming a thoughtful smile in response. 

You don’t know why you were expecting the kitchen to have a few people in it, since classes were currently going on. Maybe it was due to the fact you hadn’t exactly settled back into the life of a teacher yet. Not that you were a teacher anymore, the man currently rifling through the snacks cupboard had seen to that. You found, with no small degree of surprise, that you missed it. You missed teaching combat and strategy, you missed taking the kids through training drills and exercise routines. You missed helping them hone their mutations, with Jean’s help, or Ororo’s help. Sure, the worry of them getting hurt always used to play on your mind, but now you were back, you realised that the worry was worth the fulfilment. 

Taking a seat at the table, you propped your chin up on the heel of your palm, watching as Logan crouched to one of the cupboards below the counter. You didn’t pretend like you weren’t enjoying the view. He really did look fantastic for one hundred and thirty. In peak physical condition.

“I’d say take a picture again but I’d really rather you didn’t,” you were too focused shamelessly staring at his ass you hadn’t noticed he was peering at you over his shoulder with a not-so-subtle smirk. You flashed one right back.

You were coming to like that phrase. “I wouldn’t be opposed,” you retorted, wiggling your brows up and down. Logan snorted a laugh. 

“You flirt with everyone like this?”

You shook your head, moving to rest your chin on top of your now interlaced fingers. “Nah, only with the ones over ninety. I have a thing for older men,” you winked and he rolled his eyes.

“Stop,” but judging from his expression, Logan was finding this just as amusing as you were. But as much as you wanted to continue, your curiosity got the better of you.

“What’re you looking for?” you asked, standing from your seat at the table and skirting around the wood to sit on the edge closer to him, peering down over his shoulder. 

“There used to be a packet of insta-noodles in here somewhere but I think one of the kids got to it first,” he explained, and you gasped dramatically, to the point where he actually looked a little concerned over his shoulder. “What?”

“Insta-noodles? My brother in Christ, please tell me you were not about to give me instant fucking noodles?” you felt something in you die at the thought, and something else died at his affirming nod.

“Yeah, what's wrong with that?” he asked, genuinely perplexed by your reaction. It was just noodles for fuck’s sake, it wasn’t like he’d just offered to kick a baby. He blinked at your barked laugh of disbelief, watching as you hopped off the table and shooed him aside.

“Step back fossil–”

“Hey!”

“and let me do this. We’re going to actually have food. Like, real food. Take a seat or watch and learn.” You shot him a look over your shoulder, before gathering whatever ingredients you needed. Logan dragged one of the chairs back from the table, taking a seat to watch whatever it was you were about to make. 

You started by dicing an onion, a pan with oil already heating up on the gas stove, and it took all of three minutes for Logan to be impressed by your knife skills. You almost wielded the thing like a dagger, flipping it this way and that, before scooping half the pile of onion and dropping it into a plastic bowl. The other half you scraped into the pan, and Logan couldn’t help but savour the sound of the sizzle and the smell of food. Suddenly, he too was starving.

You crossed to the fridge, rummaging around the bottom shelf before pulling out a tub of minced beef, and a packet of mushrooms. Closing the door with your hip, you lay the ingredients out on the counter, pulling open the cupboard above your head to retrieve a box of breadcrumbs and a carton of eggs. Though he saw you pause briefly, turning your head back to him.

“You’re not vegetarian or vegan, right? Probably should have asked yesterday,” your question made him laugh, and you tilted your head to the side. “What?”

“Do I look vegan to you?”

You stuck your tongue in your cheek to stop yourself from smiling. No, no he didn’t. But at the same time, you’d made a similar mistake in the past. And it still haunts you to this day.

“Just answer the question, Lo’” you grit, placing a hand on your hip. Logan blinked, trying his best to get past the nickname you’d just given him. Usually, nicknames were his thing, having about a million different ones for a million different circumstances. He barely managed to shake his head, earning himself a smile of gratitude from you, before you turned back to your task at hand and he could settle himself with his brow pinched between his thumb and forefinger.

You crouched again, rifling through the cupboard with cans. Pushing a stack of soup to the side, you froze solid, your eyes blowing wide as your hand shook at what you saw. Another mug, though someone had gone to great lengths to hide this one. Your fingertips grazed the faded image, a photograph of a younger-looking you and a girl with fair features, her braids tied back at the top of her head. Her smile was brilliant. Dazzling. It took you a moment to will your blurring vision away, before inhaling deeply and bringing out the chopped tomatoes you’d been looking for, setting it to the side. Taking a moment to push her from your mind whilst stirring the slowly browning onions, you then cross to fill the kettle, flicking the switch to start boiling. Logan blew out a breath, having recovered from his heart stuttering and finally went back to watching you cook. 

It was calming, almost hypnotic, the way you moved about the kitchen. Folding the onions in with the beef mince, breadcrumbs and two eggs. Only, it just occurred to him he had no fucking clue what you were making. Standing from his seat, he moved over to lean his shoulder against the fridge door, now having a clear line of sight to watch what you were doing.

“What’re you making?” he asked, smiling slightly as you startled. He didn’t mean to scare you, he just honestly didn’t realise how deep into the process you were. 

“Meatball Marinara,” you answered, your fingers incorporating the ingredients in the bowl until you were left with a sticky, meaty lump you could form balls out of. 

“From scratch?” he asked, eyes slightly wide. You’d spoken at length about your cooking last night, and how you’d learned, and it wasn’t that he didn’t believe you, it was more that he didn’t quite realise how impressive it was until he was here, watching you. 

He swore, your smile could start and end wars.

“It’s pretty quick and easy, to be honest,” you explained, eyes never leaving your task despite feeling his own trained on you. You grabbed the salt from the spice rack, twisting the grinder a few times until you felt it was right. That was what a lot of cooking was for you. Just feeling. When you felt something was done, you’d take it from the oven. When you felt something needed a little more seasoning, you’d sprinkle some paprika in for an extra kick. Nothing was ever done by the book. 

It’s mainly why you didn’t exactly get on with Scott.

“Huh…” Logan responded, watching how you’d started to take small portions of the beef and roll it into little balls, placing them onto a separate plate. 

“Could you give the onions a quick stir? ‘ve got meat hands,” you wiggled your slightly shining fingers in his face, and he jerked back, much to your amusement. Logan fought the urge to flick your forehead again, settling on ignoring your evil little laugh and instead focussing on his critical mission of stirring onions. 

“D’ya cook like this when you were away?” he asked, finding an insane amount of domestic comfort in cooking with you. He saw you shake your head out of his peripheral vision. 

“Nah, didn’t have time, plus I was moving around a lot. Usually, it was quicker and easier things than this,”

“Like insta-noodles?”

You could fucking hear his smirk, and you managed to stop yourself from cracking an egg over his head. “No. Never insta-noodles. Ever.”

You’d finished making little meatballs and had started splitting apart a bulb of garlic, crushing the cloves beneath your knife before peeling off the skin and dicing them before dropping them into the pan he was still stirring. His eyes closed involuntarily as you leaned across him, once again your scent hitting him like a freight train, only this time your shampoo had blended with the sweet, slightly musky smell of your sweat. It was enough to drive him fucking feral. 

“Keep stirring that, or it’ll stick to the bottom and burn,” you instructed absently, halfway through chopping up a few mushrooms before leaning across him again to drop them into the pan as well. Logan held the spoon like it was his lifeline, knuckles draining white as you moved around him to retrieve another pan.

“Yes ma’am,” he responded, and you snorted another laugh. He really had to pull himself together. 

You poured the boiled water from the kettle into the new pan, lighting the burner and setting it on a high heat, bringing the water roiling before grinding salt for what Logan felt was far too long. He wondered vaguely if you had high sodium levels, or how your blood pressure was. You waited again for the water to come back to a boil, before placing a sizeable amount of spaghetti into the pan, putting slight pressure on the tips so the ends would soften and bend faster in the water. 

Placing the lid over the pan, you went to check your watch. Your watch that you weren’t wearing. Fucking goddamnit. You looked around for a clock, before noticing Logan’s wrist. 

Logan’s soul nearly left his body at the way you grabbed his hand, twisting his wrist to make a note of the time. You weren’t exactly rough, but it was assertive enough for him to think twice about the kinds of things he was into…

Wait, what the fuck was he talking about?

“You could’ve just asked the time,” he muttered, tugging his wrist back almost possesively. 

“Hm?” you blinked. In truth, you’d been utterly lost in how good this felt. How right it felt to just do average, mundane tasks with him. “Oh, right, yeah, sorry. Could you tell me when ten minutes have passed?” you asked, almost instantly busying yourself again by carefully dropping the meatballs into the pan he was stirring. “Gotta brown off the meat first…” you instructed softly, almost absently. But he listened, slowing his movements. Your resulting smile was radiant. “Hey, you’re a natural!”

Logan raised a brow. “I’m stirring a pan, bub. Not exactly gourmet style.” You laughed, gently hitting his bicep with the back of your hand, only to stop in your tracks, shaking your knuckles out. 

“Ow! I thought you said your bones were made of adamantium,” you exclaimed, rubbing over the back of your hand with your other palm. In truth, it didn’t really hurt, but you just wanted to make a point because nobody has the right to be this built. It was insane.

Logan bit his tongue to stop from smiling, his eyes sliding from that pan to you. “Just the result of a good workout regime,” he shrugged as if it were nothing special. In reality, he knew he looked good. He put a lot of work into his physique, and whilst his mutation did help with that, it was still nice to be complimented on it once in a while. 

“Huh… you don’t say,” you responded, cracking open the can of tomatoes once the meatballs had browned to your satisfaction. The metal sizzled slightly as you poured in the sauce, setting the can to the side and retrieving a few basil leaves from the window box on the opposite side of the room. Logan hadn’t noticed it before, remarkably, and though having no experience with plants in recent history, something told him he wouldn’t have too much trouble identifying what they were.

It was a weird feeling. Remembering something he didn’t actually remember. Though it had been the story of his life for the last few years. 

You dropped the leaves into the sauce, leaving him to stir the pot whilst you brought out two sets of plates and cutlery and set them on the counter, angling your head so you could catch sight of the time from the watch on his wrist. He would have just told you if he didn’t think you were deriving some kind of joy from attempting to read his watch sideways.

Removing the lid from the pan, you scooped up a single piece of spaghetti, blowing away the steam before dropping it into your hand when you thought it was cool enough. You shot him a quick look Logan could only describe as pure mischief, before throwing the spaghetti against the backsplash of the stove. He watched as the pasta hit the wall with a sick squelch, before sliding down the tiles. 

He looked back at you, and you almost instantly burst into fits of laughter. “The fuck was that for?” he asked, his brows furrowed in perplexion. 

You managed to recover from laughing, though hiccuped through a few giggles. “You can tell whether spaghetti’s done by throwing it at the wall. If it sticks, it’s raw, if it slides, it’s done,” you exclaimed, tilting your head to get another look at the time, noting that those ten minutes were up.

“Really?” 

“Nah, that’s an old wive’s tale. Honestly, it’s just kinda fun to pelt spaghetti at a wall and call it ‘cooking’.” You sent him a wink, and Logan shook his head in fond disbelief. He felt like he’d seen so many sides to you in the last twenty-four hours alone. And if he was being completely honest with himself, he wanted to see more. He wanted to see how many sides to you there were, and whether he would like them all as much as he liked the ones he’s already seen. Your fury included.

“Your ten minutes it up, by the way,” he reminded you, and though he had a feeling you already knew, you nodded in thanks anyway, removing the boiling pan from the stove and flicking off the burner, the blue gas flames retreated to nothing. Skirting around him to the sink, you tipped out the water, using the lid of the pan to stop the rest of the spaghetti from falling with it. You shook the pan slightly, shaking out any pieces that had stuck together, before setting about separating the contents into two portions, one slightly bigger than the other. 

“How’s it looking?” you asked, leaning back to take a look at the sauce. If Logan had to grit his teeth after smelling your scent one more time his jaw would fucking snap. You really weren’t making this easy on him, were you? Part of him wondered if you were doing it deliberately, but there was no way of you knowing about his heightened senses. Unless you’d asked around, which, with everything you’ve had going on since you got back, he sincerely doubted. 

“Looks good to me, but I’m not the expert here,” he handed you the spoon, stepping to the side for you to take over. Your fingers brushed his as you took it, and he tried his fucking best to ignore the slight buzz you’d left. 

Lifting the spoon to your lips, you sampled what you’d been slaving over for the last twenty minutes, smiling slightly as the sweet, tarty flavours burst on your tongue. It was a new sensation for Logan to wish he was a spoon, but here he was. 

“Perfect!” you beamed, dipping the spoon back in the sauce and turning to him, your palm cupped beneath the wood to prevent anything from spilling onto the floor. “Wanna try it?”

Logan shrugged, stepping forward and allowing you to bring the spoon to his lips. Your eyes never left his, the tips of your fingers grazing the coarse stubble beneath his chin, but you didn’t move away. He struggled to focus on anything other than how close you were to him, the feeling of your fingers on his jaw, your breath fanning the lower half of his face. Your hopeful eyes waiting eagerly for his verdict, searching his expression for any kind of clue. And he was suddenly afraid of what you’d find there. 

Stepping back, he pretended like he was savouring what you’d fed him, and whilst it was fucking delicious, it didn’t compare to how he imagined your lips tasting. Or anything else, for that matter. 

“‘S’really good,” he managed, and you immediately looked as if you weren’t waiting with bated breath for his approval.

“Isn’t it? Fuck I’m good,” your laugh was more akin to an evil mastermind than someone who’d just made meatballs, but Logan would be hard-pressed to find another time in his life when he felt this at peace with the world. At least, not in the life he could remember. “Sit, I’ll bring it over,” you instructed, removing a larger, metal spoon from the drawer, which he took off you the moment he could.

“Pretty sure it’s supposed to be the other way ‘round, bub. You cooked,” he glanced pointedly to the seat you’d just gestured to. But clearly, you were, amongst many other things, incredibly stubborn. 

“Not sure how you worked that one out, you cooked too,” you folded your arms across your chest, setting your jaw. 

“Yeah, barely. Sit your ass down,” he pointed to the chair with the spoon in his hand, but you still refused, now leaning against the counter as if you could get any further away from the table. Logan sighed heavily, placing the spoon down again. “Didn’t wanna have to do this…” he muttered, and you didn’t have the chance to ask what he meant by this before his arms were around your waist and you were lifted effortlessly off the ground. 

All breath fled from your lungs. Your hands instantly fell to his shoulders, nails clinging on for dear life as he carried you to that godforsaken chair. His grip around your body tightened as you attempted to wriggle free from his arms, laughing breathlessly, exhilaration coursing through your body. Only, the moment he tried to set you down, you did a complete 180 and wrapped your arms around his neck, your legs around his waist.

“Let go,” his words were muffled against your neck as he bent almost double, and you leaned back until you were practically hovering above the chair.

“Seemed like a good idea a minute ago, huh?” You arched a cocky brow and were met with an expression mirroring your own. 

“So you gonna cling to me forever? That your genius plan?”

“If that's what it takes,” 

“Let go,” the way he said your name almost had you falling to the floor, your muscles suddenly growing weak. But you stayed strong, out of nothing but principal at this point. He wasn’t even holding you anymore, you were clinging on through sheer willpower alone. For the sake of being stubborn.

“You made this bed, now lie in it,” you responded haughtily, refusing to look into his irritated façade.

“That doesn’t make any goddamn sense,” he growled, and you fucking melted. That wasn’t fucking fair, and judging by the steadily growing smirk, he knew it. His hands gripped both your calves, successfully peeling you from his waist whilst you were distracted. You had no choice but to let your legs fall to the floor, catching yourself on the chair behind you, much to his triumphant grin. 

“You cheated!” you gaped, sitting cross-legged on the seat. Logan barely looked over his shoulder as he started spooning the sauce onto the two piles of pasta. All that over fucking spaghetti. And you didn’t even regret it a little.

“How’d I cheat?” he asked, though you were aware he knew full well how. And you were right. He did know. Of course he knew. He’d used that specific voice countless times before. Usually under very different circumstances. He just wanted to hear you say it. Hear you say how it affected you. 

But, true to form, you were stubborn.

“You’re stronger than I am,” you sighed, glaring heated daggers into the back of his head. You wanted to be petty, to stand up and take the spoon from him again, but in all honesty, you don’t think you’d survive another round of ‘sit on the fucking chair’.

Logan looked at you over his shoulder, his eyes swirling with knowing, and you stuck your tongue in your cheek and looked away, not giving him any satisfaction of confirming what he was thinking. You’d been so caught up in avoiding eye contact, that you almost jumped when he set the plate down in front of you, setting his own at the opposite place. At least he’d had the sense to realise the large portion was for him. Credit where credit was due, you guessed.

A comfortable silence blanketed the kitchen as he took a seat, two glasses of water in his hands, and you smiled a thank you. If you had your brother to thank for anything, it was teaching you how to cook. Well, it was many more things than that, but at this moment, it was cooking lessons. He didn’t want you going into the world with the culinary skills of a carrot. His words, not yours. 

You had a feeling Logan was a hard man to impress, so listening to his small grunt of appreciation was music to your ears. “Told ya I was a good chef,” you beamed after swallowing a mouthful and taking a large sip of water. 

Logan nodded in agreement. It wasn’t like he could disagree, the proof was right there, in front of him, in his fucking mouth for fuck’s sake. And the peace pesto from last night. Though he was glad his metabolism was fast. Pasta two days in a row can’t be good for anyone. “Never said you weren’t,” your expression fell from pride to scowling in seconds, and the corner of his mouth quirked up. “You’re a fantastic chef.”

Your eyes narrowed as you searched for any hint of dishonesty, but you came up short. Though he said it as if to placate you, something told you he really meant it. You were just playing around, in all honesty, teasing in order to forget what just happened between you, and you’d gotten so much more than you bargained for. 

Much like the other night, you both fell into comfortable, mundane conversation, finding refuge in how fucking normal everything felt right now. You laughed and smiled as if the threat of disappearing into nothing didn’t constantly hang above your head, and he teased and joked as if the weight of his forgotten life didn’t constantly burden his shoulders. You could get used to this. Dangerously used to this. 

Logan was completely enamoured by you, once again finding himself encapsulated by the way you talk, from moments where you get really into whatever story you’re telling, to quieter moments when you let the conversation settle. If he was to die tomorrow, unlikely but worth entertaining from time to time, it was moments like these he was sure would flash through his mind. 

“What about you? I’ve talked your ear off about my life but you never talk about yours. Though, I guess there’s a lot to talk about,” you mused thoughtfully, twisting your fork through your spaghetti, or whatever was left of it. Logan grunted, shifting in his seat to lean against the back of the chair.

“It’s not a happy story,” he admitted quietly, buying himself some time by taking a long glass of water. Your gentle eyes found his, a soft smile pulling at the corners of your lips.

“I’m not looking for a fairytale. Just who you are,” you fought the urge to reach across the table and slip your hand into his. Though you didn’t want to push him to divulge anything, you just didn’t wanna feel like the whole conversation was one-sided. Sure, he would chime in with a few anecdotes but mainly it was just asking you questions. 

If he was being honest with himself, Logan wasn’t sure he wanted to tell you anything about his past. He knew you wouldn’t judge, clearly having seen a fair amount of bullshit yourself, and the fact that it simply wasn’t who you were. No, his problem lay with the fact that he didn’t want to dampen your spirit with his sob story of a past. How he only remembers through thrashing nightmares, waking up soaked in sweat, heart racing. You didn’t need to know any of that. 

“Alright… I–” he began before quite literally being saved by the bell. Logan looked at his watch, brows raising at how easily time had once again run away with the two of you. You blinked, looking around as if you could find the bell and ask it personally why it was going off so early before the echoing of ongoing conversation shattered the domestic delusion you’d both managed to trick yourselves into feeling.

“Another time,” you stood from the table, leaning over to grab his plate, but he swatted your hand away and instead took your own. 

“Never learn, do ya?” he asked with a slight smile, and you rolled your eyes. With a heavy, defeated sigh, you conceded, simply allowing him to take your plate to the sink. Stretching your arms high above your head, you popped your stiff shoulders, turning your head as two students you knew well entered the kitchen.

“You made meatballs?! No fair, I wanted some!” Jubilee whined, her books still clasped against her chest. Artie stuck out his forked tongue, much like a snake would taste the air around it before his curious face morphed into a frown. It seemed he too wouldn’t have minded meatballs. 

Logan looked over his shoulder at the two newcomers, his eyes darting between you and them, your guilt written all over your face.

“I’ll make them for you again sometime soon. We could have one of those big dinners we used to do, remember those?” you asked, your eyes alight with hope. Logan had heard of those. Apparently, you used to cook for the whole mansion, and the students would drag tables and chairs from all different rooms and have a huge feast together. Of course, he didn’t believe a word anybody said about it, since he was convinced you were a figment of everyone’s collective imagination, but now he knew you very much did exist, he could envision you dancing around the kitchen for hours on end, preparing dish after dish.

Jubilee’s face lit up at the suggestion, her hand hitting Artie’s arm excitedly. “Seriously? You mean that? We’ve missed doing that so much. Nobody cooks the way you do!” She bounced on her toes, before whirling and darting from the room, most likely to tell the rest of her friends. Artie lingered for a few seconds, clearly not knowing whether he wanted to stay or to race after Jubilee, before he too turned on his heel and ran after her. You chuckled softly, running a hand through your hair.

“What’ve I gotten myself into…?” you muttered, startling slightly as a hand rested on your shoulder. You looked up at Logan, unable to accurately decipher his expression. All you knew was that it was soft. Softer than you’d seen in the last day or so. 

“Were y’always this good with em? The kids?” he asked, and you huffed a laugh. You wished you could say yes, absolutely, you’d always been naturally gifted at looking after children. But that wasn’t the truth. 

“Fuck no. Used to hate kids, to be honest with you. Thought they were annoying as fuck when I first started,” you admitted slightly sheepishly. “But, they grew on me. Still not a fan of like, other kids, but any who come to this school? Love ‘em.” 

“Makes me wonder why they sent you ‘round America and not someone more suited.” his eyes glinted with mischief and you lightly elbowed his ribs.

“I can be incredibly persuasive.” 

“That so?”

“Mmmhm,” you nodded emphatically, stepping out of his range and immediately missing the warmth of his palm on your shoulder. You hadn’t even noticed he’d left it there until you moved away and hopped onto the table, your feet dangling slightly. He didn’t take his eyes off you, scanning your face as though he was considering you. You cocked a brow. “What?”

“Teach with me.”

You blinked. Well, you weren’t expecting that. “Come again?”

“Teach with me,” he repeated as confidently as he’d said it the first time. You scoffed a laugh. 

“What? Why?”

Logan shrugged. “You’re better with the kids than I am, and it would give you a good opportunity to develop your mutation in a combat setting.” And I get to spend more time with you.

You hesitated. “I– I don’t know, Logan. It’s… I don’t think it’s a good idea,” While you wanted nothing more than yet another excuse to be around him, you didn’t know if getting back into teaching was the right thing for you at the moment. Yeah, you missed it. Fuck, you missed it more than you thought you would, but you really meant it when you said you weren’t cut out for it. If only you weren’t the only person who thought so. 

“One class.” he bargained. “Help me with one class tomorrow and decide from there.”

You pursed your lips, and Logan could almost hear your internal debate. “You’re not gonna let it go til I do it, are you?”

“Probably not,” he smirked, knowing he’d just got you to agree. Your resulting sigh confirmed it. 

“Fine. One class. No more than that.” In all honesty, you would have agreed just to see his resulting smile. 

“We’ll see about that bub, class starts at one tomorrow.” 

You nodded once, nerves suddenly bubbling in your gut. You were going to teach again, after being out the game for the last two years. Fucking hell you wanted to throw up. But you took a deep breath, holding it for a few seconds before exhaling. Maybe this was a good thing. A blessing in disguise. Sure, it had been a while, but maybe Logan was right. Maybe your mutation would only develop under times of stress. You were incredibly stressed today, and look what happened. 

“Alright, I’ll talk to Charles and Scott, see what they say,”

Logan huffed, clearly irate with the idea. “Don’t give a shit what Scott says. He couldn’t help you after almost two hours. I was there for two minutes and you made progress,” he huffed, and you couldn’t help but laugh slightly. Was he… was he jealous? No, that wasn’t possible. What would he have to be jealous about?

“Alright tough guy, rein it in. The way you helped out earlier, it wouldn’t surprise me if Charles is telling him you should be taking over my training,” you hadn’t even thought about it before you said it, but now it was out your mouth, you realised it was entirely plausible. Especially since anyone with eyes or ears could see how much better you got on with Logan than you did Scott. Logan suggested one approach and it worked like a charm.

“Ya think so?” Fuck was the hope in his voice as obvious to you as it was to him? The idea of helping you with your mutation, whilst slightly terrifying, excited him. He couldn’t help but think that would be a learning experience for both of you.

“Yeah, why not? Like you said, Scott couldn’t help after two hours,” you shrugged, hopping off the table. “Anyway, I’m in dire need of a shower and comfier clothing, so I’ll see you in a bit.” Logan almost cried at the thought of you no longer smelling like you do now, and he had half the mind to tell you to forget the shower, you smelt that fucking good. But he also didn’t want the reputation of the weird-smell guy, so instead of trapping you in his arms and begging you not to, he simply nodded in agreement.

“Yeah, see you later.” He grumbled, trying not to be obviously annoyed by the fact the time you’d spent together was coming to an end. You shot him a confused look, before disappearing out the door and up the stairs to your room. Logan stayed for a few more minutes, his eyes closed as he finally let himself get lost in your scent. He wanted you. Fuck he’d only known you for a day and he wanted you. How the hell was he supposed to just behave normally now you were back living here? It simply wasn’t possible. 

He groaned, running a hand down the side of his face. On the one hand, he really wanted to spend more time with you. He was actively looking forward to spending time with you. But on the other, he didn’t know how much longer he could behave himself. He didn’t know how much longer he could keep up this ‘friendly’ banter with you without it crossing the line. Had it already crossed the line?

Jesus Christ, he didn’t even know. He couldn’t help thinking this was likely about to get extremely messy if he didn’t get his shit together. But, at the same time…

He always liked a little mess.

Freshly showered, moisturised and pampered, you lay face up on your bed, your room feeling more like a forest than anything else. The steam from your shower still rolling out from your bathroom, and the more tropical plants you kept seemed to be absolutely thriving. You were thrilled, you really were, but you couldn’t take your mind off the day you’d just had. Not that it was over, it was only five in the afternoon, but so much had happened in the last day it was hard to wrap your head around.

You’d been replaced as a professor, your bedroom stolen, and you’d been informed that the mutation you thought you knew so well wasn’t actually what you thought it was at all, and that it could very well end you in seconds. You’d thrown a fit, broken your hand, dragged shadows toward you and constructed them into a pair of fucking awesome wings, and cooked with a man you’d known all of two minutes.

And the strangest fucking part was that you couldn’t get him off your mind. You couldn’t stop thinking about him. It was honestly getting a little irritating, seeing his face every time you close your eyes, hearing his laugh when your room got a little too silent. Feeling the ghostly touches of his arms around your waist, his hands on your neck. His breath against your ear. 

You flapped your arms down on your bed in defiance. You would not lie in bed thinking about him all evening. You refused. And luckily, due to an unexpected visit, you didn’t have to.

“He likes you, ya know,”

You screamed, whipping your head back to your door where you saw Kitty strolling in, completely unphased by your reaction. Grabbing one of your pillows, you threw it at her approaching form, watching as it soared straight through her body. Your jaw flapped, completely speechless. “I– Wh– Kitty! You can’t just waltz in here unannounced! Scared me shitless!” you exclaimed, running a stressed hand through your hair.

“Why? I always used to. Been gone that long, huh?” she asked, plopping down on the end of your bed and crossing her legs. 

“Yeah… guess I have,” It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence for your accommodation to be broken into. The moment rumour got out there was a mutant staying a few streets over the road, you had to move. Sometimes you hadn’t been quick enough and had spent the rest of the evening frantically scrubbing blood from beneath your fingernails, before making a quick exit.

Those were the times on your travels nobody needed to know about. Those were the times you’d keep to yourself. 

You jumped again as your door burst open, a frantic Logan looking you up and down before his eyes darted around the room. “You alright? I heard screaming,” he panted, slightly breathless from clearly having sprinted up the stairs. 

Your heart grew five sizes. “Yeah, I’m fine. Kitty scared the shit out of me, ‘s’all,” you shrugged, too focused on him to notice the woman of the hour beaming wildly, looking between the two of you. 

His shoulders sagged, the man visibly relaxing, his eyes lingering on yours. “Okay…”

“Okay…” you repeated, unable to tame your disobedient smile as he almost awkwardly nodded his head. 

“Right. I’ll uh, yeah. Leave ya to it,” he clicked his tongue, sending you one last glance to make sure you were really okay, before closing the door. 

You sighed, shaking your head fondly, chuckling quietly to yourself. 

“Oh. My. God. You like him too!”

Looking up with unnatural speed, you scoffed, waving your hand dismissively. “The fuck are you talking about?” you asked a little too defensively.

“I’m talking about you and Logan. He clearly likes you, and now I can see that you like him too! Oh, this is so fucking cute, just wait until I tell Marie, she’ll go fucking crazy!” Kitty clapped her hands excitedly, and you had to catch one of her wrists in order to stop her. 

“What are you on about? Logan doesn’t like me, we’re just friends,” oh, was it supposed to hurt that much to say it? But, in all honesty, you don’t think you were ready to confront whatever it was you felt for this man. For now, you were pretty content to bask in not knowing, and being kind of excited about it.

“Mhm? Friends don’t eye fuck in the kitchen.”

You choked. Her tone was so matter-of-fact that if you weren’t actually looking at her, you wouldn’t have believed you were talking to Shadowcat herself, Kitty Pryde. “Kitty! Christ, what happened to you? And we weren’t eye fucking. I was hungry and refused to cook insta-noodles, so we actually made a meal.” You explained. 

“For almost four hours? Meatballs take twenty minutes, twenty-five at a push,”

“We lost track of time!”

“I repeat, for four hours?” she asked again, folding her arms and raising one of her thin brows. You pursed your lips to stop yourself from saying anything else incriminating. “Though as much,”

“I didn’t even say anything!” 

“You didn’t need to, it’s written over your lovestruck face.” She poked her finger toward your nose, and all you could think about was the way Logan flicked your forehead beforehand or the way Logan gave you that little push back in the training room. Or the way Logan–

Christ on a fucking boat when would it end?

“I’m not lovestruck,” you mumbled, dragging your knees up to your chest. You debated telling Kitty about your predicament with your mutation, for the sole reason of explaining why you and Logan were spending so much time together recently, but you didn’t think you could bear the look on her face. The only ones who knew, to your understanding, were Scott, as the leader of the team, Jean, as the leading scientist, Charles for obvious reasons, and Logan because you told him. You didn’t really want another person to know your problems, especially not Kitty. 

You couldn’t bear to see her face when you told her you weren’t a phaser anymore. The mere thought broke your heart. You had matching mugs and everything. You couldn’t do that to her. Let alone sharing the idea that your mutation could simply not allow you to return back to the corporeal world one day, and you’d be stuck as nothing but wondering consciousness in the shadows for, effectively, all eternity. That was a little too morbid to talk about even with Logan.

“He’s just… helping me get back into the swing of things. I haven’t been a teacher for a long time, Kit, and since he took my position, he’s offered to help me–”

“Get back into teaching! Oh my god, he has, hasn’t he? That’s so exciting! I thought you didn’t want to get back into it?” She asked, untucking her legs and swinging them around so she was now lying comfortably on your bed, her head propped up on her elbow. 

“Well, we’re not getting ahead of ourselves, but yeah, that’s the idea. Gonna help him with his class tomorrow…” you trailed off, your heart beginning to accelerate at the thought of teaching your first class in two years. “So yeah, that’s why we’ve been spending so much time together. It’s nothing serious, promise! Plus, since most of the new students are kids I found, he’s pretty much the only person I don’t know here.” You flopped back down onto your bed, angling your head so you could still see her.

There was a moment of comfortable silence, a moment to let the conversation settle and for your heart to slow a little, before Kitty spoke up again. “He was really excited to meet you,” she offered quietly, and your brows raised subconsciously. “Everytime someone started talking about you, he’d tune in. He was subtle, but Marie noticed it first, and she told me to look out for it. He was looking forward to meeting you for the best part of a year.”

You took a deep breath. That couldn’t possibly be true. “You’re good at seeing things that aren’t there, Kit. I love you for it, but sometimes things really aren’t that deep,” you explained softly, trying your hardest not to smile at the image of Logan only tuning into the conversation if it was about you. It was definitely a stretch of the imagination, but it was a pleasant one.

“Yeah yeah, you watch. I’ll be keeping an eye on your totally platonic relationship with Professor Howlett but mark my words, you’ll be together by the end of the month,” Kitty smacked your calf to emphasise her point, and you shook your leg threateningly, laughing at the notion. 

“I cannot wait to see you eat your words. I’m sure they’ll taste of falsehoods and regret.” You flashed her a toothy grin, and she stuck her tongue out in retaliation. You’d missed moments like these. In all honesty, you hadn’t realised how lonely the last two years had been. Hadn’t realised how starved of friendship you’d been until you found yourself talking and laughing amongst friends again. You didn’t realise how much you’d missed this place until you came home again, to both the old friends, and the new. 

[brooooswriting]

Hi would you write for a Leighton x reader where r forgets to take their adhd meds and they get really overwhelmed and they just ‘disappear’ and nobody can find them and they’re just in Leighton’s bed trying to de stress, and the first place they thought of was leightons because they feel safe and calm with her?

Where were you?

Leighton was about to have a breakdown. She hasn't seen you for over 24 hours, and she hasn't heard from you for about 5 hours now, which wasn't normal. The last time she really heard from you was this morning when you texted her good morning, and since then, nothing. She didn't think anything about it since you would always join her and her roommates for lunch but you were a no-show.

So, she texted you, but nothing. She asked your friends and again nothing. And when no one could reach you and nobody found you, a bit of panic went loose in all your friends. While your friends and Leighton went crazy, you were quietly laying in a bed.

Leighton’s bed, to be exact. The covers were pulled up to your head as you soaked in the blonde’s smell, which lay atop you like a protective barrier. All the stress, negative thoughts, and feelings nearly disappeared. Yesterday, like the idiot you could be, you forgot to take your meds. You didn't really notice until suddenly every small thing started to annoy you and overwhelm you. The fact that you didn't know the reason for it made things even worse until you figured that you forgot your meds.

By now, Leighton, her friends and your friends were on a search mission for you. They knew how you could be and if you went offline in every sense that could mostly mean bad things. So, Leighton searched in your building complex and the gym, Kimberly was looking through the dining hall and the shops, Whitney was going to the donut shop close by and your friends were looking through some of the lecture halls. Bela decided to look for you in the library after getting a hoodie from her and Leightons room.

The girl stalked inside, typing on her phone as she slammed the door open. She hummed as she searched through her closet, grabbing a nice one and turning around just to let it fall when she saw someone in Leightons bed. “Leighton? I thought we are going to search y/n” she questioned as she stepped closer. “Leighton?” She pulled the covers back a bit just to see y/h/c and eyebrows that definitely didn’t belong to Leighton. “Y/n?” She mumbled to herself before sighing.

She exited the room with her phone in hand to let the others know. “Leight? I found her, she’s sleeping in your bed” she explained as she got an apple sauce from the mini fridge.

“You gotta be kidding me. I’m going to kill her” the blonde grumbled and hung up the phone making Bela giggle. Leighton was fuming, not because you were in her room but because you were sleeping in there peacefully while she was freaking out. The dorm room slammed open making her roommate flinch, “is she still in bed?”

“Yeah, she’s dead asleep I guess” she explained but was mostly ignored as Leighton was already slamming the door to their room open. Bela decided that she didn’t want to be a part of this so she left and told everybody that you were fine.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” She screamed as she pulled the blanket off of you, making you whine. You stuttered something out that wasn’t understandable. “Why are you just sleeping here?” She questioned as you carefully sat up, her relief that you were fine overwhelming her and making her miss your shaky hands and wet eyes.

“I- I am sorry. I didn’t think that you’d be mad about it. I mean you gave me the keys after all” you stuttered again and avoided any eye contact with the mad blonde. Her anger seemed to subside though as she started to see the weird way you were behaving and the tears in your eyes.

“Why did you come here?” Her voice was much softer this time, but she kept her distance as long as she didn’t know what was wrong. You scotched back against the headboard and pulled the blanket over you again.

“I forgot to take my meds and i didn’t even notice until I suddenly felt annoyed by everything and everyone and I started to have panic and anxiety and headaches and tantrums and I was so frustrated and normally I would have called you but the headaches made it impossible to look at my phone. So…” you hesitated to keep talking as Leighton sat next to you, her arm wrapped around you pulling you closer to give you comfort.

“So the first place you thought of was my bed?” Your head was laying on her shoulder which made you miss her smile when she said that. Trusting someone has never come easy to her but trusting you was like breathing, it came natural to her.

“I-yeah. I’m sorry if I overstepped, it’s just the thought of your perfume and all of this around me made me calm down already” you explained further playing with the fingers on her hand that wasn’t wrapped around you.

“Gosh, now I feel like an asshole. I love the fact that you thought of me first and felt comfortable coming here, I was just scared. Nobody had heard from you for over five hours and that is never good so I thought that maybe something had happened. I’m sorry I was so rude when I came inside” it was easy to know that she was telling the truth, her voice was so soft that it was impossible that she was lying.

“No, I get it. I would have been mad too. I’m sorry I didn’t text, it just slipped my mind” her arm squeezes you a bit tighter, which was her way of showing that she understood and was fine with it. You stayed in a comfortable silence for a moment before you noticed your headaches coming back, you often had them after feeling frustrated and overwhelmed. Your shifting was an obvious sign to the blonde by now.

“How are you now?” She questioned, looking down at you with a look that told you not to lie. It was smart, you would have tried to lie but she had a different kind of power over you.

“My head still hurts” you quietly confessed, looking down at the blanket that was covering your legs. Leighton sighs and leans over to get some medicine from next to her bed.

“Here take these and then turn over so I can cuddle you while we take another nap” she insisted, not leaving any space for arguments which, again, was smart. It was rather early in the day and you knew she still had classes.

You mumbled a thank you, took the pill and turned on your side facing away from the blonde so she could hug you from behind. The light was quickly turned off and a text was shot to her roommates to be quiet when they came home. “Leighton?”

“Yes love?”

“Thank you for caring” you weren’t quite at the ‘I love you’ mark yet, so this was the best you could do. You had both shown how much you loved each other throughout the day; you could only think of her during your worst moments and she would have torn down the campus to find you.

���Thank you for feeling safe with me” she pressed a kiss to your head and pulled you closer before you both drifted off to sleep.

[yuri-is-online]

haru nsfw headcanons hand them over

(╯°▽°)╯ ofc friend this damn near wrote itself. This is meant to be very general, I might try writing a fuller fic for him the future since he and MC deserve some alone time. Maybe they can leave the kids with Hyde for the weekend since he's supposed the be the advisor, make that loser do his damn job for once.

notes: they/them used to refer to mc, I have 0 experience writing smut so sorry if this is bad. I tried to keep things gn but a reference is made to face riding x-x this is harder than it looks. much like Haru-

I think Haru would be OK with casually hooking up, but the sex would be a lot less playful?  You're doing this to de-stress and don't have a lot of time so no need to do anything extreme. It still feels good, Haru would hate to leave you unsatisfied, but there's a lot less experimentation and he doesn't laugh or crack jokes like he would with a long time partner. There is also the prosthetic to consider; if he has one I don't think he'd want to get fully undressed with someone he's just hooking up with.  What happened to his arm is a sore spot even if he acts like it's not, so he doesn't really want to talk about it in a fwb situation even if you are close friends.  That's not to say that he would never tell you about the prosthetic and the story behind it, it's just not something he wants brought up during casual sex. If he doesn't have a prosthetic then I don't see him having any insecurities about taking his clothes off with a casual partner, though he probably still ends up staying half dressed just to save time.

If you're dating and he has a prosthetic arm, Haru still needs to work up the courage to take off all his clothes even though he really really wants to. Part of him is afraid you'll think he's broken or ugly, he doesn't think of himself that way but it would really hurt if you did. Praise isn't so much one of his kinks as it is a key part of his personality, he wants you to know that he's with you because he is attracted to you and he loves you. He wants you to say it back to him, needs it really; please tell him how in love you are and how attractive you find him. Want him as much as he wants you and watch how much he gets off on your need.

Loud whiner Haru is so real, he knows he can be loud he's just not ashamed of it at all. He's seen those posts about it being sexy when men moan and he already thinks he's a total catch, that just solidifies it. It ties into his praise kink, he's super sweet during foreplay but he almost always loses the ability to speak once you start fucking, so to let you know how good you are making him feel he just has to make some noise. He only really cries if he's had a really bad day or you've been away for a long time, he missed you ˙◠˙ so let him hold you as close as physically possible.

He's stupid easy to turn on. Laugh at his jokes, pull him around by his tie, even smiling at him will get him hard if he stares at you long enough. The fastest way to get him up is to wear his clothes, it's not smart for an inspector to declare a house allegiance but you will be literally cold before you stop wearing your boyfriend's jacket and he loves seeing you tie yourself to him. It can be sort of hard to tell when he's horny unless he outright tells you because he can hold onto those thoughts for a scarily long amount of time. He'll see you snuggling his shirt while he's on his way out the door to milk the cow and think about that all day until you're done with classes and he can have you to himself. This also means he's really easy to tease, do anything mildly suggestive, he'll start whining and won't even punish you for it later. Unless you want him to of course.

Haru is very big on service, he wants to be the one giving you pleasure but he's not picky on how he does that.  If it’s something you're interested in he's willing to try it at least once, but I can't see him being into harder bdsm/kink mostly because it takes too much time to set up.  He's been busy and away from you all day, he doesn't want to wait to fuck you.  Same with roleplaying, he gets the appeal but it's a lot of work especially if you want to bring costumes or cosplay into it.  He also kind of sucks at roleplay, he really likes making you laugh so he accidentally turns things into a joke. It doesn't turn him off at all, but he understands that's not really what you were going for so it might ruin the mood. His one hard no is anything that could injure either of you, he doesn't like seeing you hurt or worrying you when he's hurt.

Or so he says, but if you sit on his face and break his neck he's not going to learn a single lesson from it and will brag about it to Rui and Romeo.  He probably brags about a lot of things once he gets drunk actually, in the off chance you were wondering why Romeo isn't making eye contact with you anymore. Everyone in Darkwick knows you rode Haru's face like a bicycle seat and that he wants you to do it again, he has enough sense to know he maybe should pretend to have some shame but he can't bring himself to do it. You want him to be ashamed of making you scream that loud? Please it's not happening he loves you too much. I don't think he'd be super into exhibitionism either, he takes his job as Anomaly Ranger/Tamer really (too) seriously and getting frisky in front of the animals would be setting a bad example! He's less embarrassed about other people seeing, it's just that he really values his alone time with you and doesn't want to share it with anyone.

Other than those two things he's not picky. Want to fuck him in the ass?  Just make sure you prep him first. Ride his dick until it falls off? His place or yours? Probably safer at yours. Having a horrible day and want to suck his dick to feel better? How did he get so lucky, you're the best MC. Want him to rearrange your guts remove your ability to walk? He'd love to! But with how overworked he is that last one might be sort of rare. Haru is a very go with the flow kind of guy so if you want him to take a more dominant role he can, but he really appreciates it when you take care of him. Especially with how things are in Jabberwock right now, you gently insisting on taking charge is so sexy of you he might cum without you even touching him.

I could see him maybe liking it if you tie his hands back or above his head with your tie. He'd like to do the same to you too, it's just the impromptu nature of it that he finds really sexy, and again he likes seeing you in his clothes. If you were to tie his hands back while wearing his uniform shirt unbuttoned just enough for him to stare at your chest he'd skip the praise and go straight to the whining; he'd really love to have a picture of you sitting in his lap dressed like that. He's also a big fan of lingerie, but more on his partner than himself and not anything that takes too much time to get off. If you want to put him in a set he won't protest, but he'd prefer you pick it out for him since he's not the best at that sort of thing.

Despite how single mom core he is I don't see him having a breeding kink himself. He likes cumming inside, but more because it doesn't make as much of a mess than because he wants to get you pregnant. He's very good at playing into it if you have one, and if things stabilize in his life to the point he can think realistically about giving Peekaboo siblings then he could really easily develop one, but for now that'd be way too stressful for him to think about.

He gets really tired after sex but takes aftercare super seriously, I keep saying it but he really does want to take care of you. To him sex is another way of saying he loves you, and he doesn't want you to feel like he only loves you by halves. It's not unsexy to him to clean things up, but he doesn't rush it either. He likes being there to hold you, and is always pleasantly surprised when you are the one holding him. If he had more time he'd like to stay like that longer, maybe kiss you awake for a second round in the morning but he knows he can't stay away from Jabberwock for too long. If you're ok with it he takes pictures of you naked in bed together to go with all the ones of you in his shirt, if he's having a bad day he just looks at them and he instantly feels better. He'll never show those ones to anybody even if you would be ok with it, their his little alone time treats.

He's shown everyone that picture of him with his neck brace on when you broke his neck though.

[a-super-cutie]

Persistence. Obsession. Persistently obsessed.

(Part 2 of 8) SFW chapter, MDNI, 18+ series

cecil stedman x female!superhero!reader

wc: 1,289

series synopsis: You and Cecil have started seeing each other but your jobs (mostly his) keep interrupting date after date. He clearly thinks this won't work for you, but how many times do you have to tell him how utterly head over heels you are for him?? Well, if telling won't work, maybe showing him will.

Masterlist ~~~ Last Part ~~~ Next Part

You and Donald stood behind a very large bug. You floated up to peek over the dead thing’s exoskeleton at Cecil who stood a distance away talking to a hero. They conversed about things and he pointed at the giant queen - also dead - and paid no attention to where his right hand man had gone or where his secret girlfriend was.

You floated back down to Donald. “Yes, a vacation. Just one! Just three days.”

He shook his head. “Cecil does not take vacations.”

“Yeah I know that! But he needs one!”

Donald raised a brow at you.

“Ok, I need him to take one… B-but because he obviously deserves some rest for being such a good boss.” You laughed nervously at the man who wasn’t buying it.

“..I know you and him are… seeing each other. But -“

“You know?!” You flew up again to glare at Cecil but he was already looking your way. Your eyes widened as they met his and you ducked back down. “He saw me! Please, Donald. Please! I just want to spend some time with him.”

He looked down at you as your feet touched the ground and you clasped your hands together pleadingly. “..There is a protocol in place in case the director cannot make it into work, due to sickness or the like.”

You floated back to his eye level and nodded. “Yeah? So if he were gone for three days?”

“No. One day.”

“No! Three!”

“Two. Any more and the paperwork would pile up and he’d be behind by more than a week. Just two if this is to help him de-stress.”

“Yes, ok fine, thank you!” You hugged him tight and pulled away with a happy squeal. Your plan! Your plan was in motion!

“Am I interrupting something?” Cecil raised his eyebrow at the both of you.

You tried not to look too startled at his sudden appearance. That sneaky, stealthy man!

Donald stepped away. “No sir. Not at all”

You drew closer to your boyfriend - not too close in case anyone else flew by - and gave your best lie. “I just had questions about my technique taking these things down… he gave good pointers.” You smiled.

He wasn’t buying it. Not with the way his eyes narrowed and darted between the both of you. But he shrugged and looked around at the plump carcasses littering the road out of town. “You did pretty good for just the three of you. I was worried you guys were going to be overwhelmed.”

“They were taken down in record time.” Donald looked down at his tablet. “Though I would suggest focusing on the nests sooner.”

Cecil nodded at that. “Well. We have to go. The lab guys have it taken care of and you guys are off the hook for clean up.”

Donald nodded and they both teleported out.

Great! You flew into the sky and waved goodbye at the other two heroes that helped you today. You made your way home with twirls and whirls in the clouds, giddy about your plan. If Cecil’s work was covered for two days then all you had to do was whisk him away.

You already made 'reservations' at a winter resort not too far, the perfect place to cuddle and hide under blankets exploring and groping and -

You sighed and giggled some more, sliding your window open to enter your place. You quickly discarded your clothes and hopped in the shower.

First, you’d need immediate access to Cecil. How else would you pick him up and fly him to your destination? That meant he’d need to be over; you haven’t been invited to his house and honestly probably never would with how secretive that man is.

“His clothes! How could I forget!”

You turned off the shower and toweled off. He’ll need a packed bag with winter clothes for two days. “How am I gonna do that?!” You pulled on a robe and fell onto your bed. Your fingers scrolled through the very few contacts you had on your phone and pressed the button to call up Donald. “Please help me again!”

Donald cleared his throat. “Is it an emergency?”

“… No…”

He sighed. “I have a minute.”

“Is you-know-who around?”

He hesitated. “This is a secure line.”

Donald seemed to be of a similar height to Cecil. Though he had a sturdier-looking build… You always enjoyed clothes that were slightly too big on you so maybe Cecil would too. “Could I borrow a winter jacket from you? Just for a couple days?”

“Uh… Is this for exactly two days? For what we discussed?”

“Yes. I just realized I’ll need a winter jacket for … you know.”

“You can pick it up from me tonight if you like. I’ll text you my - well… I’ll drop it off instead. Tonight. After work.”

“That’s perfect! Thank you, Donald! You’re the best!”

There was silence on the other line before you heard Cecil grumble something in the background. “Yes, Sir." He whispered, "3 am,” before the line went dead.

You got dressed, made lunch, watered your plants, cleaned up, watched some tv, made dinner, did some chores, watched more tv, and FINALLY 3am rolled around.

Someone knocked on your door quietly at first and then more firmly as you took your sleepy time to open it up. Donald stood there with a jacket in hand. He held it out to you.

You yawned. “Thanks again! I’d ask you to somehow get me - “

He shook his head.

Oh. Of course! Cecil must have this whole apartment building bugged because of you. He always knew when any neighbors bothered you. You nodded, silently thanking him for his caution before you accidentally gave away too much. “Well thanks, again. You’re really great and I’ll text you the other details.”

He nodded but gave you a genuine smile.

“Night!” You closed the door and watched him leave from your door’s peephole. “Donald’s real nice.” You wondered if Cecil was close friends with him. They had to be friends by now, working together on such secret confidential things. It was still hard to imagine him having friends with how closed off he seemed, but it’s not like you know how he acts away from the heroes he commands.

You draped his jacket over a chair and took out your phone. There was one thing to do now. Get Cecil alone. You fell onto your bed and curled up with your phone in hand to text your boyfriend.

”Hey, still at work?”

”Just ended.”

”I want to see you. When are you least busy?”

Several minutes went by and you imagined him going through his calendar to find you some dates within this century.

”Not sure.”

You frowned. ”What about next week? Super busy then?”

”Meetings. And whatever else decides to blow things up.”

”Right… when do you have the least amount of work, probably?”

”Well it’s a weird kind of holiday this weekend. For some reason we get the least amount of crime annually around these two days.”

”What!! Why??”

”Don’t know. Maybe the bigger villains have some sort of convention or something. It’s normally just giant creatures and small villains we deal with at the end of this month every year.”

”Can’t believe you guys keep track of that sort of thing”

”Knowing patterns saves lives.”

He texted again: ”Nothing escapes my notice.”

”Ooh, ominous. Let’s meet up then! I can’t wait to see you!”

”Yeah. You want me over?”

”Is the other option your place?”

”No.”

He texted again: ”Sorry.”

He texted again. ”Some other time.”

”My place it is! Come Friday night right after work then? Do you get off at 3 every night?”

”No.”

”Random then? Makes sense. Then just text me”

You messaged again: ”Or just show up. Whatever gets you here faster ;)”

”Ok. Night.”

”Night!”

You smiled and turned to your plants. “It’s happening!”

______________________________________________________________

Masterlist ~~~ Last Part ~~~ Next Part

a/n: hope you enjoyed part two! I thought I'd post the first two to get the ball rolling on the series :) I'll post the rest once a week

[rarepairdumpster]

Donor/Triad AU

Pairing: Jayce/Viktor, Jayce/Viktor/Silco Rating: M C/W: Modern AU, Trans Viktor, Threesome, Poly Relationship, Trans Pregnancy, BABIES

Jayce and Trans Viktor trying to have a child for years, before finally finding out that Jayce is shooting blanks (and that it isn't Viktor's fault as Viktor had immediately assumed because of his substandard health)

The two of them not being entirely comfortable with the idea of Viktor being impregnated by some random faceless syringe full of semen.

So the two of them go searching for someone to invite into Viktor's bed

Enter: Silco

Jayce watches the entire time Silco is in Viktor's bed. He tells himself he doesn't find it arousing, but the tent in his trousers says otherwise

Silco tells him it's okay to touch himself. Silco ends up becoming the dom for both of them

Jayce is always the good, obedient one and Viktor tends to be a brat but submits before Silco gets too upset.

Viktor's bratting is mostly snark.

And Silco actually loves it.

Just not when he's trying to fucking bone him.

Silco crooking his finger at Jayce when he has Viktor on his lap that first night -- because Jayce is gripping the arms of his chair hard enough to make the wood creak because Silco is balls deep in a moaning Viktor, using his knees to keep Viktor's legs spread. So Viktor's swollen pussy is on full display. And his inner thighs are shining.

Jayce ends up between Viktor's legs, face buried in his pussy, licking and sucking at his clit.

And Viktor has cum like twice already and he's so sensitive that he curses and grips Jayce's hair with one hand and Silco's with the other. Trapped between the two of them.

They fuck every night for three weeks in a row. Just to give Viktor the best chance of getting pregnant. When his test is positive, Viktor has a good cry in the bathroom because he's so overjoyed.

When they tell Silco the news, he fakes a smile but is ready to hear that they don't need him anymore.

He doesn't expect Viktor to grab his hand and pull it to his belly, saying "Just a few months until you'll be able to feel our baby."

Jayce rubs his neck. "We understand if you want to leave since the...ahem job is done so to speak, but Viktor and I would really think it would be beneficial for both the child an--"

"We want you to stay. Forever, preferably"

Silco's smile turns genuine then as he steps closer to them both.

Silco treats Viktor like a king the entire time.

He gets overwhelmed with all the doting from both Silco AND Jayce sometimes.

Jayce frets a lot more though, trying to stop him from lifting things, etc. Viktor goes feral when that happens.

Silco is of the "he's not helpless" mindset.

Silco the one who gives the back massages. Jayce does the feet.

The pregnancy is hard though, especially in the last trimester. Viktor is just so skinny.

That's when Silco worries.

It turns out he was carrying twins but one twin was basically hiding the other twin from the ultrasounds.

Silco being in the process of helping Viktor out of a hot bath when gush, his waters break.

Viktor stressing out because its too early and Jayce is away on a business trip

Silco using his Dom voice to try to keep Viktor breathing and relatively calm because stressing too much won't be good for him or the baby(ies). Silco driving him to the hospital and letting Viktor grip the fuck out of his thigh, uncaring of how bruised it'll get.

Once he parks the car, its one of the few times Viktor lets him carry him bridal style. Because the contractions are so painful, he can't keep standing, even with his cane.

He keeps kissing Viktor's face and telling him how good he's being.

Viktor clings to him. It's one of the few times he doesn't even think of bratting.

Silco facetiming Jayce so he can be there for the birth though.

Jayce totally walks out on an important meeting to answer the video call 'cause he knows Silco wouldn't call unless it was I M P O R T A N T

All the three of them have very different expressions when one baby gets delivered and the doc says the next is coming.

Jayce is an excited puppy, Silco is surprised, and Viktor is already too tired for this shit.

They do not have enough cribs for two babies

Jayce is on Amazon immediately getting next day shipping.

Silco is trying to calculate the doubling costs.

Viktor just wants a nap.

Viktor is just out cold not long after the birth, after the babies have had their chance to rest on his chest. As Viktor sleeps, Silco holds one baby, and the other snoozes in the hospital crib next to him.

Jayce is ending his trip early, on top of ordering the crib online. He's driving his rental to the airport even as his assistant books him a ticket for the next flight home.

Viktor is barely awake when he has to do the first feeding, with the nurses giving him instructions, and Silco is watching Viktor and babies like a hawk. They're just finishing up the feeding when Jayce arrives at the hospital.

The Babies are two (apparent) girls and get given neutral names

Avery and Ash.

Avery was Silco's first preference. Ash was Jayce's. Viktor honestly didn't have a clue what he wanted to name the baby(ies) -- he just wanted them OUT, BUT NO NOT LIKE THAT JAYCE ISN'T HERE

When Viktor is released from the hospital, Silco helps keep him upright as he leans exhaustedly on his cane, and Jayce carries the baby carriers -- one of which, he had to quickly buy at the nearest department store once it was clear that Viktor and babies were going to be released.

Jayce having to stop at some Russian restaurant on the way home because Viktor smelled the food in the air and had a sudden craving for Pelmeni. Silco (who pulls in behind them in his own car) runs in to get a double portion for take away, after coming to Viktor's window to ask what was wrong.

Jayce being like "Whatever's in those dumplings smell awful" when Viktor is eating them in the car. And Viktor is like "I haven't had these in 9 months. Leave me alone."

Viktor eats both portions and pouts 'cause he's still hungry, but they're already home.

"I'll get you more tomorrow, Vitya, but you need to rest"

That's Silco, who's already ushering him up the stairs. Viktor just huffs and leans into him because yeah fuck he's really tired

Jayce lets the babies snooze in the carriers while he works on putting together the second crib. Meanwhile, Silco helps Viktor into his pjs and curls up around him in their big bed -- which is much more comfy than the hospital one and Viktor conks out almost immediately, head tucked under Silco's chin

Once Jayce is done and has the babes settled, he also crawls in bed on the other side of Viktor, gathering both him and Silco in his arms

Yes. Silco is already asleep, so he can't complain

Silco giving Viktor free reign to boss Jayce around because he can't fuck for 6+ weeks.

Ash ending up being Silco's girl while Avery is sporty like Jayce.

A couple years later they have a boy and he is JUST like Viktor.

Boy constantly gets into trouble and big sis Ash has to get him out of it.

Silco's adopted kid, Jinx, was insecure at first but very quickly became a protect big sis for all of them.

It helps that Viktor is queer in a way similar to Jinx, so that softens the blow of the babies coming along.

Silco would go to every one of Avery's sports matches, even if he has no clue what's going on.

Jayce being really bad at explaining sports rules to him and Viktor has to take over.

Arch + Woods

[nicestgirlonline]

Tell me a little more about Hot to go?

Thank you for asking!! It's one of my fanfic for The Bear, my less angsty and sad one haha. It takes place starting in S1 and the reader is a new front of house cashier. She’s very sweet and bubbly, offsetting the stressful environment of the Beef. She fits in like a little sister type to most of the others. I pictured her as an unlucky in love gal, always having a bad boyfriend or going on lame Tinder dates and it burns Carmy up inside but he’s too introverted/trying to stay focused on work to say anything. Of course eventually the jealousy gets to a breaking point ;)

Here’s an unedited snippet from it!

Carmy heard the yelling in the dining room over the bustle of the kitchen but it seemed wrong. He wasn’t sure he had ever heard you yell before, now like that at least. If Richie wasn’t right in front of him, goofing off with Tina, giving him a headache, he’d assumed it was him up front. He heard a clattering of something on the floor and a loud

He burst through the door to the register, “Yo, what’s going on here?” He immediately took in the scene. The large, red in the face man who was screaming at you, while there were coins all over the counter and ground.

“You the manager? She’s got a fucking attitude problem, she is mouthing off to customers willy nilly.”

“Don’t talk to my employees like that. Are you going to order or are you going to leave?” He quickly slid in front of you at the register, making sure he was between you and Mr. Karen.

“What the fuck is this kind of place? Whatever happened to the customer comes first?”

“That only applies to non assholes. It's on the wall.” He pointed to a faded sign that said “no assholes” that hung over the men’s room.

“Now you’re giving me lip, small fry? First this bitch now --”

It all happened at once, Carmy leaping across the counter to shove Mr. Karen to the wall, the rest of the guests scattering and shrieking at the sudden violence. Richie finally decided to poke his head out, baseball bat in hand, ready as backup. You ducked beneath the counter as the two of them removed the man.

You heard the jingle of the door. Richie spoke to the rest of the customers, trying to lighten the mood and assure them everything was back in order. He gave you a nudge with his foot when he took his place behind the register again.

“Take a fifteen kid,” He said softly. “Yo, next customer. Step up, let’s keep it going -”

You slunk to the back, to the small place by the dumpster where you knew you could be completely alone. You’d never been so rattled at a job before. You were ashamed you lost your temper, ashamed of how scared you’d felt, and embarrassed that you had such little control you needed your boss to kick out a customer for you.

You sat with your head in your hands, trying desperately not to cry. You could cry when you got home.

“Hey uh, you good?” Carmy poked his head out, he had his hand in his hair, not really making eye contact.

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine…are you ok? I’m really sorry about all of that. ” He let out a half chuckle, half sigh.

“It was nothing.”

“Richie grabbed a bat.” you pointed out. He rolled his eyes and took a seat on the curb next to you.

“So look, next time if a customer is giving you trouble and you can’t handle it, just come and get me ok?” He leaned in close to you, his big blue eyes sucking you in.

“I’m going to handle my shit I promise. I mean it, I can handle a rude customer. He just started to fly off the handle over nothing and I’m sorry I couldn’t de-escalate”

“Don’t apologize for customers. I know they’re mostly assholes.”

“He was right though.”

“Huh?”

“It is weird we have spaghetti on the menu.”

Carmy laughed. You started to laugh too.

“I do agree with that. I have no idea what Mikey was thinking with that one. Might have to take it off the menu, to keep my cashiers safe.” He grabbed a cigarette from his apron and offered you one. You shook your head. His mouth twisted for a moment, then he lit his own.

That was the first time he had ever brought up Mikey in front of you. You knew a little bit about the story, Mikey used to own the place before Carmy. Nobody really liked to bring it up and you weren’t looking to pry. You knew it was his brother.

The two of you sat in silence while Carmy smoked. You didn’t feel like crying anymore and you were grateful for that.

[mal3nko]

Some of my favorite instances that really highlights the difference between “Living World” vs “Dead World” Vinh for me is how the two versions of him react to Max telling him that she knows about his relationship with Safi.

Obviously the context behind Max bringing up this fact to “Living World” Vinh is because she’s trying to gain as much information from him as possible, and Vinh in this reality is being incredibly cagey and standoffish which leads to a lot of frustration on her part.

And of course Vinh at this point is getting pretty ticked off and irritated by Max, and utilizes his usual smug persona to not only downplay his reaction to her knowing this information, but also tries to subtlety fish for info himself on how she came to know about him and Safi in the process.

But in hindsight, we know Vinh actually cares a lot more about Max knowing this information then he’s initially letting on here considering the fact that he texts her later on in the day questioning where he and her stand after this relatively heated conversation and quietly nudges Max to not say anything about his relationship with Safi. This is also the only instance where Vinh will text Max at all in this reality.

And then we get to Max dropping this information on “Dead World” Vinh, and his reaction is obviously quite different.

The most obvious difference to me at least, is that he doesn’t even question how Max knows here. Doesn’t really seem to have the energy to, or maybe even just doesn’t think it matters if she knows since Safi is dead in this reality. I’ve wondered for a while now who Vinh in the “Living World” seems to be nervous about this info potentially bothering if it were to spread, and I know some people believe it’s Yasmin, or even Reggie (like myself initially), but looking at it from this angle I really think it’s just…Safi. The two of them hooking up was obviously a secret, most likely a mutual one, so I think Vinh fears that if this information became public knowledge it could potentially upset her, and he definitely can’t have that. Would it have actually upset her though? Maybe, maybe not, but either way he can’t be too careful. But this is just my interpretation, so I don’t want to enforce my take on this whole situation on anyone!

Another difference here is that Vinh actually laments how he should have told Max about him and Safi earlier. Obviously him and Max are much closer in this reality than in the other one, so he’s probably starting to really feel the…”wrongness” of pursuing his ex-“whatever’s” best friend, which is a feeling that is mostly bolstered by the fact that their sudden closeness is happening right after her death. It’s a lot to process, you know?

I can’t stress enough how much I really enjoy the differences in how the cast in DE behave based on which reality you’re in, and I honestly think some of the characters got really shafted in this department when it came to screentime. Loretta specifically in my opinion had so much potential as a whole, but it ultimately felt like her story just… kinda went nowhere? You interact with her “Dead World” counterpart in the first two chapters exclusively, than bump into her “Living World” version for the first time briefly in chapter 3, and then she’s just completely absent in chapter 4 for some reason??

But this is ultimately why I feel like Vinh is just…a cut above all the rest of the characters since we’re actually given a decent amount of time with both versions of him throughout chapters 1-4 to really see the differences in his behavior (even if I do still think we were robbed of actual time with his “Dead World” counterpart in Diptych, sue me).

[hmshermitcraft]

Katherine was confused.

Like, really confused. What do you mean soulmates are real!?

When she first heard about it, about the fact that everyone had a soulmate and eventually you’d get a red string connecting to your soulmate, she thought it was a joke. It had to be! There’s no way that’s real! It can’t possibly be real…

Until it happened. She just… woke up one day and there was a string attached to her finger! Just… there! She couldn’t de-attach it, trust her, she tried.

She did wonder who it was though. She was a princess, so surely it would be whoever her parents married her off to, right?

Shelby thought the idea of a soulmate was pretty cool! If a bit unbelievable. Sometimes, she stayed up at night imagining who it would be. She wondered what their voice sounded like, what they acted like, looked like.

So when she finally got her soulmate string, she was ecstatic. At last, she would find out who it was! She was new to the mangrove when she got it so she hadn’t met all that many people yet, she had met Katherine thought… she secretly hoped she was Shelby’s soulmate.

Katherine decided to follow the string, alright? But it was only because others had started doing it and found their soulmates already. Not because of a certain witch, no, that’s dumb.

…and then she saw her.

It was Shelby, standing right there with that adorable shocked look on her face that made her feel all sorts of feelings that she shouldn’t be feeling.

But, saint Pearl, was Shelby pretty…

There's a lot of things you feel upon finding your soulmate. The two of them celebrate, holding each other's hands and talking without pause.

Neither of them expected the stress.

Shelby doesn't have any social standing - she's even new to the area! And her witch schooling is... Mm. Best not to talk about that. Yet, now she has to be a match for a princess! Katherine doesn't care about any of that (and Shelby will love her forever for it) but everyone else does!

And Katherine didn't expect to need to justify her soulmate. She literally didn't choose Shelby (though if she had a choice... Just don't tell her parents that part!)

They'll get through all this together. Life brought them to each other, and now with their combined powers, they're gonna kick some ass!

Hopefully. And mostly socially.

[pablitogavii]

Could you write something about y/n being Pedri’s sister and she and Pablo are dating secretly but y/n ends up getting pregnant and they have to tell pedri and he gets really mad but in the end he has to accept it.

Btw I love your writing so much. You are such a talented writer.

Bebé

You and Pablo have been in a secret relationship for almost six months now hiding it from the world bust mostly from your big brother Pedri.

He had one rule for his teammates and it's that his little sister is off limits, but when Pablo met you he just couldn't help the immediate love he had for you.

You were similar to Pedri in that you were very calm and it's that quality that keeps Pablo grounded and happy. You were always able to bring him peace and over these past months he fell head over heels for you.

So when you learned that you were pregnant, after immediate shock, you both were really happy that something beautiful came from your love. Although not planned, you both wanted this baby and knew you would do everything in your power to be the best parents.

"Now we have to tell him.." you said after a few moments of silence laying in Pablo's arms while he stroked your still flat tummy thinking how lucky and happy he felt in this moment.

"I don't want you to worry about anything preciosa..I will talk to him...I love you and our little angel and I will do everything for the two of you..everything" he said and you felt safe nodding your head before looking up and placing your lips onto his.

A few days later..

"Get off him! Pedri please!" you wanted to intervene when Pedri punched Gavi making him fall to the ground grunting and spitting blood from his mouth.

"No! You're coming with us hermanita.." Aurora didn't let go off you pulling you away from the scene with your mom and Belen while your dad pulled the two boys away from one another.

"Cálmate! Stop acting like children! Beating him won't solve anything hijo! Your sister loves Pablo and it's her choice who she wants to be with..and as for the baby, it's early but every child is a blessing..." man tried to reason but Pedri was only seeing red from anger.

"That's not the point! He knew she was off limits! He swore to be my best friend and was screwing my sister on the side!" Pedri was screaming trying to pull from his father's grasp towards Pablo who stood there looking his friend straight in the eyes.

"I love her hermano.." Pablo said and Pedri got angrier trying to pull away from grasp again while cussing at him.

"Hijo de puta!" was all Pedri replied before storming out of the house.

"I'm going to beat both of their asses! You shouldn't stress out when you are carrying my beautiful sobrina..everything will be alright hermanita" Aurora pulled you towards herself kissing the top of your head.

"How do you know it's a girl Rora??" you said with a weak smile while holding your stomach in reassurance wanting to talk about anything but the fact that your boyfriend were probably fighting to death right now.

"Just trust your hermanita bonita" Aurora smiled kissing the top of your head seeing her brother walking towards the living room with your dad by his side and no Pedri in sight.

"Is everything alright? Why are you holding your stomach? Is our anjo alright princesa?? Should I take you to the hospital!?" Pablo was already on his knees in front of your placing his larger hand over yours on your stomach and you pulled him closer kissing the top of his head.

"I'm alright..where is he??" you said seeing Pablo's beautiful eyes fill with tears while he looked up at you letting the tears spill as you dried them with your hands.

A few weeks later...

Since the turbulent night at your house, your whole family accepted the new situation and did everything in their power to help you with everything.

Aurora was already buying baby clothes convinced it's a girl, Belen and your mom brought you cooked meals even though you could still cook for yourself and both your dad and Pablo's took upon themselves to help pablo build the baby nursery.

Pablo was happier than ever, spending all of his free time with you and always saying how excited for your little 'anjo' (since you don't know the gender yet) to wear his jersey when you bring them to the games. Your cheeks blushed at the idea and you were just as excited knowing that this will be the most loved child in the world.

Pedri on the other hand was the only one who remained distant..and as much as you try not to think about it, it hurts that your brother haven't talked to you since he found out about the pregnancy.

You moved to stay permanently with Pablo at his apartment close to Camp Nou and despite expecting Pedri to reach out when he cools off, he never did.

"How is he?" you said sadly while you and Pablo were cuddling to sleep happy that you can at least know your bother is healthy from Pablo who is forced to see him daily.

"He's good, princesa..don't worry" Pablo said holding your now prominent baby bump while pulling you closer so that your back was glued to his chest.

"I'm getting big..." you sigh and Pablo kissed the side of your neck lovingly nodding his head while caressing your belly.

"Good..you're beautiful mi preciosa" Pablo said and you smiled feeling the baby kick for the very first time which took both you and Pablo by surprised before both you cried happy tears that all of this was indeed real.

Pablo noticed that this whole thing with Pedri was affecting you especially with hormone disbalance during pregnancy. Despite trying to hide it, it was obvious that you missed your brother and that you were sad that he just pushed you away indefinitely.

Pablo even found you asleep on the couch one evening with one hand on your now grown bump and other holding old picture of you and Pedri as kids with dried tears on your cheeks.

He couldn't take seeing you like this especially when he wanted to bring you all the happiness there is the world because that's what you deserve. A week later he decided to try and talk to Pedri again.

"You should call her..just to let her known you're alright..she worries about you.." Pablo said to Pedri during one of the trainings but the moment he placed his hand on the boy's shoulder, he got pushed back.

"Get the fuck away from me! The only reason I haven't beaten your ass is because of her and that precious bebé in her belly" Pedri said and Pablo nodded his head looking at him with hopeful eyes that he called the baby 'precious' making it sound like he wasn't unhappy about becoming an uncle.

"She's worrying too much and that's not good for the bebé. Just please let her know you are still her brother and transfer all that rage onto me..I can handle it..and I deserve it but she doesn't" Pablo said before Xavi called them to join the rest of the team for the training.

The day Pedri showed up at your front door, you found out that you were indeed carrying a babygirl. You went to the ultrasound with Pablo but asked a doctor not to tell you a gender only to return out of curiosity a day later and learn the truth.

"Hey! Sorry, I didn't expect anybody and I look like a mess..but come in!" you were mumbling in nervousness like you weren't only talking to your brother. He was looking at your very much grown belly and you were caressing it out of nervousness not knowing what to say.

"I grew bigger since last time you saw me.." you said and Pedri looked back to your face with a small smile on his face that made you relax.

"Just a little bit.." he joked lighting up the mood and you chuckled walking to the living room and sitting besides him on the couch.

"Um..listen, I'm sorry that I kept it a secret from you. I just didn't want to be a reason you hate Pablo, who by the way is miserable without his "Pepi" just like me. " you said feeling lighter that you finally let it come out of your mouth.

"Um..I'm sorry I didn't call earlier..I kept telling mom to take pictures of you so that I could see as your stomach grows" Pedri said and you smiled feeling your eyes fill with tears that your brother cared about you this whole time despite everything.

"That's why she turned into a paparazzi then.." you joke and you both laugh like in good old days. You felt kicks which occurred always around the same time, right before Pablo was going to arrive home and baby anticipated daddy's return.

"Kicking?" Pedri said and you smiled nodding your head asking if he wanted to feel and he was uncertain but when you took his hand and placed it onto your stomach a big smile was glued onto his face.

"Can I tell you something..and you will be the first one to know?" you said as he nodded his head waiting fro you to continue.

"It's a girl..I found out today.."you said and Pedri's eyes filled with tears while he pulled you in and kissed the top of your head while baby kicked like crazy almost like it was sensing you talked about her.

"And Pablo doesn't know?" Pedri said with raised eyebrows while you shake your head.

"Not yet.." and just like clockwork Pablo opened the front door freezing in place when he saw you and Pedri hugging in the living room. He was happy you were finally reunited with your brother but he didn't want to ruin the moment considering that his best friend hates him now and probably will forever.

"I'm sorry amor..I'll come back later" Pablo said turning around to leave but Pedri called him name taking him by surprise.

"Shouldn't you tell him??" Pedri said and Pablo's eyebrows furrowed feeling worried that something was not okay with your or the baby but the smile on your face made him relax a bit.

"You do it!" you said and Pedri walked to Pablo placing his hand on his shoulder which took Pablo completely by surprise but he waited patiently to hear whatever was going on right now.

"We are going to have a little Barça princesa in our family and at the camp soon!" Pedri said and Pablo was frozen in place not understanding the word coming out of his mouth in that moment.

"Wait..so..so..." Pablo stumbled on his words while you smiled wide at him nodding your head while Pedri ruffled his hair happily.

"You will have a daughter hermano! And I'm gonna gave the cutest little sobrina in the world!" Pedri said and Pablo's tears spilled down his cheeks while he rushed and raised you odd your feet like your wighted noticing before kissing your lips lovingly going onto his knees in front of your stomach.

"Hola mi anjo..it's your papi..tu eres mi princesa mas bonita del todo el mundo..y tu mamá es mi reina..papi te amo mucho princesita" he kissed your stomach while you ran your fingers through his messy curls kissing his forehead afterwards.

"Te amo mi vida!" he got to his feet kissing your lips before turning around to his best friend who pulled him into a hug like nothing has ever changed making you cry while watching them. Damn hormones!

"We are going to have a Barça Princesa!" Pablo said and Pedri nodded high fiving him and cheering while you chuckled at their childish celebration.

"I'm buying her my jersey in the little size!" Pedri said

"I got that idea first!" Pablo complained making you chuckle at both of them saying that she will probably end up wearing both anyways.

Three years later..

You went to the game with Mia (your daughter's name), Aurora, your uncle and aunt to support Barça's last match of the LaLiga excited to see the trophy celebration.

She was mirror image of Pablo with her messy curls and quite an explosive attitude but you wouldn't have it any other way. She is basically attached to her papi's side all the time so when she saw him run onto the pitch she kept saying 'papi papi!" which made everyone awe adorably including yourself.

"Si princesa, es tu papi" you say giving her some water since it was quite hot and you wanted to make sure she keeps hydrated. Then your brother ran onto the pitch and she stopped drinking pointing once again but this time saying "pepi pepi" making him wave at all of you with a bright smile.

Pedri and Aurora spoiled this girl rotten from presents, to continuous attention and "secret" ice creams dinners you pretend not to know anything about.

Pablo wanted to surprise Pedri, so he got Mia a new jersey to wear over her usual "papi" one with Pedri's name and number remembering that he wanted to see her in it while she was still in your belly.

After the game was over, she wanted your uncle to carry her while you stretched your back chit chatting with Aurora while walking to meet with Pablo and Pedri.

"Looks like you were right Rora..we got our Barça Princesa" you said smiling while all the players were circling around the little girl who was giggling at them shyly.

"Quién es la princesa de papi huh??" Pablo pinched Mia's cheek and she nodded pointing at herself while he giggled being joined by Pedri shortly after.

"Hola Princesita Mia! I like your jersey" Pedri said smiling when he saw mini jersey with his name on his niece and she looked around being intrigued by the amount of people surrounding her. He winked at Pablo who nodded his head smiling at Mia's cute face.

"Who is that Mia??" your uncle said pointing at Pedri and she smiled wide at his familiar face in the crowd.

"Pepi!" she cheered making both boys laugh at how adorable she was while she gave her uncle a high give making him wink at her adorably.

"And that??" he then pointed at Pablo smiling wide sharing that same smile that Pablo has.

"Papi!" she said high fiving him too as he was invited to speak as a man of the match but when he tried to leave she started crying repeating "Papi! Papi!"while reaching her arms out towards Pablo.

"I can take her" you say but Pablo reassures you that it is fine and that he will take her with him to the short interview while she giggled happy once she was in her dad's arms.

"Alright be good my trouble makers!" you say winking at them and Pablo leans down to kiss you letting Mia do the same before they left to do their business.

"Bienvenidos Gavi! Oh and who is this beautiful lady??" the man asked waving to Mia who smiled hiding her face quickly into her dad's neck.

"This is Mia..my daughter but she is a little shy now"Pablo said smiling and kissing the top of her head while she still his her face into his neck sucking on her thumb.

"She is Pedri's biggest fan isn't she??" man joked looking at her little jersey and Pablo nodded remembering the moment Pablo told him he will buy her a little jersey that day you all made up with each other..all of that seemed so far away.

"She loves her uncle so much because he let's her eat ice cream for dinner, isn't that right princesita??" Pablo said laughing a little before answering a few questions about the match.

The rest of the time you were taking some pictures on the pitch for memory while Mia was kicking the ball being the little energy bomb that she was.

"She is the best thing that happened to our family hermano..I'm sorry I ever doubted your love for my sister..." Pedri said staring at the little girl kicking the bal around while hugging Gavi's shoulders.

"It's all forgotten..I'm glad I didn't lose you as my best friend and brother Pedri" Pablo said and they hugged before Mia yelled "papi! pepi!" kicking the ball towards them as they started to play with her joined by other players as well.

"Be careful mi amor!" you yelled shortly joined by Pablo sitting besides you watching as everyone was around Mia happily entertaining the little girl.

"She's all ours amor..our little princesa" you said smiling while Pablo pulled your closer kissing your lips this time a bit more passionately (now that you were finally alone).

"I want another one.." Pablo whispered into your ear before kissing down your neck and you giggled feeling your heart swell and your mind immediately agree while you kissed him back passionately.

[chippedshake]

Modern Purim Stevepop AU

“Sodaaa! We’re going to be laaaate!”

“Pony, we’re half an hour early!” 

Soda could hear Ponyboy pouting from halfway across the house. He rolled his eyes, then decided to never externalise that again because, if his reflection was anything to go by, it was not a good look on him. 

All right, maybe not never again, but not for the next two hours. He had a Boy to impress and two hours a year to do it in. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll be out in a sec!” He checked himself in the mirror, fixed a strand of hair that was out of place, and unlocked the bathroom door. 

Can of soda for the third year running, and the joke wasn’t getting old. 

They’d been going to the synagogue to read the Megillah Esther for as long as Soda could remember, but the Boy only appeared when he was ten or so. 

He’d walked in alone, startlingly small among the mostly adult crowd. Someone had been walking by when they noticed he wasn’t wearing a yarmulke and plopped one on his head without a second though. 

He’d jumped about a foot in the air. 

Then he’d grabbed the yarmulke, smiling a bit when he realised what it was, and looked around to find who’d put it on him. 

He didn’t find them, but he did meet Soda’s eyes from across the room. 

Soda obviously looked away in the most conspicuous way possible and instantly fell in love. (Or, maybe not in love, given they didn’t know each other, but the Boy was his bi awakening.)

The Boy didn’t stay for the party afterwards — although it wasn’t much of a party, more of a potluck / awkward family reunion where old people would come up to you and claim to have changed your diapers — and never dressed up as anything for purim. He came and left alone, even when he couldn’t have possibly been much older than Soda. 

“Really, Soda? Coke again?”

Soda grinned at Darry widely. “S’a good joke.”

Maybe Darry was about to respond, but Ponyboy was downright glowering at the two of them, so they shuffled over to the car quietly and let Ponyboy take the left-hand seat. 

The Curtises talked on the way to the synagogue, but it was unclear who was talking and what they were talking about because in Soda’s head the Boy was talking — his voice was hard to pin down but Soda imagined it’d be a bit lower than his own, he seemed a bit older —, complaining about school with Soda, and then he was laughing and his laugh was so pretty and it was because of something Soda said and —

“Move, idiot, or I’ll shake you till the bubbles make you explode.”  

Soda rolled his eyes, then cursed himself internally and frantically (but surely subtly) looked around to make sure the Boy wasn’t around. 

Once he made sure his dignity was intact, he shoved Darry back and got out of the car. 

Darry clambered out after him and flicked his forehead. Soda made a grab for his hair — long enough to pull at now — but Darry grabbed his hand and started twisting his arm around —

“Boys!” 

They both froze and turned to face Mom sheepishly. 

“Sorry, Mom.”

The bitachon nodded at them as they stepped inside. They’d all come to pick Ponyboy up from his bar mitzvah classes at least once, and Lutz had a good memory when it came to faces.

“Rifka!” A woman came over — Naomi? Deborah? — and hugged Mom. Her husband followed close behind, and soon Mom and Dad were laughing about something that happened ten years ago, sons utterly forgotten. 

Ponyboy was reading from the piece of paper in his hands under his breath, pacing as he recited it. He got the tenth chapter, the shortest one, but that didn’t stop him from stressing about it incessantly. 

Darry and Soda stood awkwardly next to each other. There weren’t any other kids in the community they were really friends with — just the Boy, but he was nowhere to be found and it wasn’t like Soda had even talked to him —, but they also didn’t have anything to talk about, so they had to spend the fifteen minutes until the service actually began standing around, occasionally making chit chat with people who all seemed to know them, despite them not having any recollection of their existence.

At around 7, they started filtering into the actual synagogue to start the service. 

There were a couple of rows facing the bimah and a couple rows perpendicular to those on either side. The ones facing the bimah were generally taken by the more religious people — Soda thought of them like the nerds but in Judaism —, while the more casual attendees took the perpendicular seats.

The Curtises always sat in the second row on the left side of the synagogue, and Soda made sure to be the last one to go in so that the Boy could sit next to him when he arrived. (Even though the Boy didn’t know he existed. Surely he would see the empty seat and feel an undeniable attraction.)

Ponyboy fidgeted with his paper all throughout the barchu, and when Soda tried to put a hand on his shoulder to comfort him, he flinched him off. 

Halfway through the sh’ma, the Boy walked in. 

He wasn’t dressed up this year either, unless he didn’t usually wear jeans and a loose shirt. His hair was combed back, although he didn’t have any swirls in it. Did he stop doing it or did he just not feel like it today?

He stepped inside and took a seat in the nearest place he could find — front row of the right-hand side, almost directly across from Sodapop.

That had to be on purpose, right? There were lots of empty seats — it wasn’t a big synagogue to begin with, but they still didn’t manage to fill them all —, and he chose the one right in front of Soda. It had to mean something, right?

Or maybe not everyone’s obsessed with some guy they see once a year that they don’t even talk to 

Then they got to the amidah. 

Soda had nothing against religion, but G-d, did he hate the amidah. Everyone standing in silence, just reading from the siddurim. It wasn’t like he could read Hebrew, and even if he could, he wouldn’t be able to concentrate for that long. 

Pony loved it, obviously. He didn’t use to be able to read it, but now that he was in bar mitzvah classes, he’d learnt the Hebrew alphabet and read along excitedly. 

Mom and Dad had been going to the same synagogue for years, and every time they did they would read the amidah. They must’ve had it memorised by now, but they still read it every time without fail. 

Darry was staring holes into his siddur. He knew how to read Hebrew, but just didn’t like to. Said it was a pain and he didn’t like praying anyways. 

The Boy was looking at his siddur intently, mouthing the words as he read along. Watching him was the only way Soda got through these things, really. The little frown he had when he reached a word he didn’t know how to pronounce, the almost unnoticeable smile when he got through a sentence easily.  

“Today we’ll be reading the Megillah Esther to complete the Purim mitzvah. We’ve had ten volunteers to come up and read this year, and we’ll be reading in ten different languages,” Rabbi Sarah said, “Rebecca will be reading in Yiddish; then David will follow her in English; Susie over there — recently did her bat mitzvah, very insightful dvar torah — in Italian; Yael will be reading it in French, which she’s learning to honour her family; Deborah offered to read in German; Will in Spanish; I’ll read the seventh chapter in Hebrew; Laura will read in Dutch; Emma in Turkish; and finally Ponyboy will read the tenth chapter in Hebrew as well.”

And so the reading began. 

Ponyboy was biting his nails beside Soda, tapping his foot all throughout the first chapter. 

“You’re gonna do great,” Soda whispered to him as Rebecca stepped out from behind the bimah and went back to her seat. 

“You don’t know that,” Pony whispered back, moving onto his other hand.

See, the issue Sodapop had with going to the synagogue was that it sounded real nice in theory, but he couldn’t sit still nearly long enough in practice.

He liked the feeling of community, even if he wasn’t entirely clear on where he stood relating to G-d. Knowing that here he was safe, here everyone was like him, it was a warm feeling. Something as simple as opening the siddurim from the right hand side and seeing everyone else do the same… It was nice. A sort of home. 

But then there was what came after opening the siddurim. And that was where Soda lost the connection. He couldn’t concentrate for long enough to decipher the Hebrew words or understand Rabbi Sarah’s dvar torahs. He couldn’t focus on what the words in front of him were saying during silent readings of the sh’ma or the amidah, because his mind loved to wander. 

So even if he wanted to do the mitzvot and he wanted to listen to the Megillah Esther, he just couldn’t. Because the moment Rebecca started talking, his mind went to a completely different universe. 

Then there was David, who he more or less understood when he could get himself to listen. 

And then there was Susie, accompanied by Two-Bit (they got there too late to ever hang out beforehand, but it was fun to talk during the party afterwards). They were in matching Mario Bros costumes, Two-Bit as Luigi and Susie as Mario. 

Every time Haman’s name came up, Two-Bit roared like the place was on fire and got everyone all hyped up about it. It got annoying after a while, but Susie still giggled every time so maybe it was worth it. 

Then came Yael and Deborah and Will and Rabbi Sarah and Laura and Emma (painfully long chapter), and then finally it was Ponyboy’s turn. 

What Soda hadn’t accounted for would be that everyone would turn around to look at them as he stood up to let Ponyboy out of the row. What he hadn’t accounted for would be that “everyone” would include the Boy.

So when his eyes snapped to look at the Boy — as they always did, whenever something happened, because he wanted to see his reaction —, he found him already looking back. 

Soda stumbled as he sat back down. 

Everyone was looking at Ponyboy, thankfully. Everyone but the Boy. Soda smiled sheepishly at him and the Boy smiled sarcastically. 

But he didn’t look away. 

And then Ponyboy started reading and Soda had to look away from the Boy because Pony would ask for a fifteen-hundred word analysis of everything he did — every gesture and twitch and falter — the minute he sat back down. 

And also because it was an important moment for Ponyboy and all that. 

And when the applause started and Ponyboy stepped away, failing to suppress a smile, and Soda looked over at the Boy to see what he thought, his eyes were still locked on Sodapop. 

Soda tilted his head in questioning. The Boy tilted his head right back. 

Then people were getting up and grabbing their things to move to the room next door where they’d have the imitation of a party. The Boy put his jacket back on and left the synagogue without a word to anyone.

Soda made a split second decision between the hamantaschen that he knew for a fact were the best ones in town (although he would never tell Mom) and the love of his life. 

“Dar, Dar— I ain’t feelin’ too good, so I’m gonna head home, all right?”

Darry raised an eyebrow and smiled. “Yeah, okay. I’ll let Mom and Dad know.”

“Thanks Dar. You’re a lifesaver.”

“Don’t worry ‘bout it.” His smile turned into a shit-eating grin. “And, hey, you might just get him this year.”

Soda looked up slowly. “I will actually murder you if you say another word about it.”

“Hurry up, loverboy,” Darry whispered mockingly, the glee plain on his face, “your true love’s getting away.”

Soda shot him the ugliest look he could and shuffled out of the synagogue, deciding against flipping Darry off at the last moment, lest someone else see it and start yelling at him about how vulgar and grotesque this generation is.

He touched the mezuzah quickly, kissed his fingers, and caught sight of the Boy less than a block down the right. 

“Hey!” he called out, and the Boy turned around. It took less than ten seconds for Soda to catch up to him running, and less than five seconds for him to realise he had no idea what to say. “Hey,” he said again, quieter this time. 

“Hey,” the Boy said back, brow furrowed in confusion. 

Shit. Was this a mistake? Was the Boy even looking at him? Did Soda just misinterpret everything?

“Why’d you leave before the party?”

The Boy was a bit shorter than Soda. Not much, not enough to be noticeable across the synagogue, but he was a bit shorter. 

He shrugs. “Didn’t feel like it. Don’t know anyone there. S’not like parties are really my thing or anything.”

His voice wasn’t all that deep, really. Sorta like Soda’s, only heavier, in a way. 

“S’not really a party, more like a potluck.”

“What, d’you want me to go?”

“No!” Soda said, feeling heat rise to his cheeks. He didn’t really know what he was doing, or why he was doing it. “Well, I don’t not want you to go, but I don’t want you to do something you don’t want to do.”

“Okay.” 

And the Boy just stood there. Not doing anything. Not saying anything. Just standing there.

“Can I walk home with you?” Holy shit, Soda, could you find any way to sound creepier?

The Boy blinked. Shrugged. “Okay.” And turned around to keep walking. 

Soda sprinted a couple steps to catch up. 

“What’s your name?”

The Boy looked up as if he were surprised that Soda was talking to him. 

“Steve.”

Left, right, left, right.

“Yours?”

“Sodapop.”

Steve snorted. “Yeah, right.”

“No, really! Dad was awful original, that’s all.”

The Boy — Steve — stopped for a moment and looked Soda up and down. Soda tried his best not to squirm. 

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

He shrugged again. “Okay.” And they started up again, walking at a much slower pace this time.

Left, right, left, right, left—

“How long’ve you been coming here?” And Soda could scream because Steve asked a question and that meant he was actually interested in having a conversation and —

“S’long as I can remember. You?” he asked, as if he weren’t acutely aware of every minute he had spent in Steve’s presence. 

“Since I was ten.”

Left, right, left, right,

“Why’d you start coming?” Soda asked.

“My mom’s Jewish but my dad isn’t, so we never really did much. I got curious, I guess.” Steve shrugged again. “Your whole family’s Jewish, I guess?”

“Yeah. Pony’s the most religious out of all of us, weirdly enough.”

Left, right,

“Pony?”

“Oh, right. My brother. Little brother. His name’s Ponyboy.”

Steve snorted. “Did your dad really just name you two that?”

“Yeah. Thought he was funny. He got free reign after my mom fucked up with my older brother.”

“What’d she do?”

“Well— wait, are you sephardi or ashkenazi? Or mizrahi or something else.”

“I— I don’t know.”  

Right, left,

“What do you mean, you don’t know?”

Left, right, 

“My mom never told me, I dunno.”

Right, left, 

“Oh.”

Left, right, left, right, 

“You were talking about your brother’s name?”

“Oh, right!” Soda forced himself to sound chipper, ignoring whatever had just happened. “Well, my mom’s sephardic, dad’s ashkenazi. So Mom named Darry Darrel, after Dad, because for sephardic people it’s sorta an honour. She named him in the hospital and forgot about how it’s bad luck for ashkenazim, I guess. So Dad got all mad — I don’t know how seriously, though, they laugh about it now so I don’t think it was too bad — and decided he could choose the names for any future children they had.”

Steve didn’t respond, but he was smiling. 

Left, right, left, 

“Hey, why don’t you ever dress up for Purim?”

“What do you mean, ‘ever’?”

Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. 

“Just that I noticed you weren’t dressed up other years, too.”

“Oh.”

Right, left,

“Never had anything to dress up as, I guess.”

Right, left,

“Huh. Yeah, that makes sense.”

Soda started heading to the right while Steve turned left. 

“Oh,” Soda said, disappointment leaking into his voice, “I guess we split here.”

“Yeah.” 

Neither of them turned to move.

“D’you have a phone?” Soda asked, immediately feeling stupid. 

“No,” Steve deadpanned, and for a second Soda believed him. 

“Can I have your number?”

“I don’t know, can you?”

Soda rolled his eyes and cursed himself internally because he had to last two hours, dammit, it’s one stupid gesture. 

Then he held out his phone so Steve could put his number in. 

…

“Darry Darry Darry Darry Darry Darry—”

“You are so lucky it’s a Thursday because if my phone rang during Shabbat you bet your ass Rabbi Sarah would’ve killed me.”

“Darry Darry Darry—”

“What?”

 “I got his number!”

“Yeah, no shit, it’d be impressive if you didn’t. Didn’t you see the way he was looking at you during the reading?”

“No? I was busy looking at our little brother who was taking a big step in overcoming stage fright?”

“Yeah, well I can multitask. And he’s not subtle— yeah! Behind the toilet paper.”

“Darry?”

“No, that’s the ibuprofen. You wanna take the aspirin.”

“Darry, what the fuck.”

“The one in the red box, y’know?”

“Darry, are you okay? Genuinely.”

“Mom was walking by, genius. You want her to know you left the purim party to pick up some guy?”

“Okay, first of all, he’s not just some guy—”

“The correct answer was, ‘no, Darry, my wonderful older brother, I didn’t want her to know. Thank you for being so nice and covering for me!’” Darry said with fake cheer.

“No, Darry, my wonderful older brother, I didn’t want her to know,” Soda said, as emotionless as he could manage, “Thank you for being so nice and covering for me.”

“Eh. Could use more feeling. 6 out of 10. I gotta go though, some old ladies are giving me these absolutely vicious side-eyes. Which is better than unwanted shidduch, but not much.”

“Speaking of... How’s Talia’s niece?”

“Still gay.”

“You still broken up about it?”

“I’m hanging up now.”

“Wait no! Don’t go, my love! I accept you in all your aromantic glory!”

[wileys-russo]

Millie b blurb about the day sarina calls her up for the World Cup but also to inform she is going to captain the squad

there is an absoloutely criminal lack of millie bright blurbs and fics on here, shes so fit i swoon

my captain II m.bright

"mills, love will you please sit down? you're gonna wear a hole in the carpet." you smiled in amusement and sympathy at the taller girl who was pacing back and forth impatiently, glancing to her phone on the coffee table every few seconds, tapping it now and then to make sure it was working, tattooed arms folded firmly over her chest.

"what if she just doesn't call? rach already heard an hour ago." millie paused her pacing, sitting on the edge of the sofa and bouncing her knee up and down anxiously, chewing on her thumbnail.

"she's gonna call." you assured softly, nudging her forward a little and slotting your body in behind her, tugging at the back of her shirt for her to lay back. "but what if she doesn't?" millie stressed, leaning her head back on your shoulder and sighing deeply, closing her eyes as you began to massage at her neck.

"stop saying that baby, you know she will." you frowned feeling all of the tension in her neck, the girls body coiled with stress at the impending call up for the world cup.

you knew why she was worried she wouldn't get a call up of course, her knee surgery had meant she saw herself as a liability. and though mostly cleared she did have the odd bad day, and you knew these were the doubts that clouded her mind.

"just try to relax even for five minutes please, i think i can see a grey hair from all this stress." you plucked a hair from her head as she opened an eye and glared at you, but the hints of a smile ghosting her lips betrayed her faux anger. "cheeky." the blonde grumbled, pinching at your leg and settling her taller frame back into you.

"this actually feels quite nice you know." the defender mumbled as you dug your fingers into her shoulders, pressing a few feather light kisses to the back of her neck, feeling her de-tense a little with each touch. but the peace didn't last long as her phone chimed and she shot forward to grab at it, huffing when she saw it was only a message from her ma checking if she'd heard anything yet.

a few more minutes passed and you felt millies body weight lean more into you as she began to doze off. it was then that her phone chimed again and this time sarinas name flashed across the screen, millie was up and had the device in her hand in an instant, pressing it to her ear and hurrying out of the room.

you made no move to follow her wanting to give the older girl her space and knowing she would return once she was finished. you clicked on the tv and settled on an old re-run of coronation street, folding your arms over your chest and admittedly beginning to doze off a little yourself.

it was around fifteen minutes later that you heard millies footsteps pad back downstairs and you muted the tv and sat up, looking to her with raised eyebrows, her face giving nothing away as she stood in front of you.

"well??" you asked impatiently, waving for her to speak as a shit eating grin spread across her face and you jumped on her not even needing any words, the grin all the confirmation you needed. the taller girl easily caught your smaller frame and wrapped your legs around her waist as she held you up and buried her face in your neck with a laugh.

"mills i am so fucking proud of you baby." your hands fell to her cheeks, leaning in and rewarding the news with a sweet lingering kiss, pulling away and leaning your forehead on hers. "thats not all." she bit her bottom lip and placed you back down on your feet as you frowned curiously and she took a step back.

"sarinas named me captain." millie laughed in disbelief, dragging her hands down her face as your eyes almost popped out of your head and you jumped on her again with a squeal, the blonde this time unprepared as you both tumbled to the floor.

"okay okay baby thats enough!" millie laughed and gently shoved you away as you kissed all over her face. your heart fluttered at the words, forever swooning over the way she said baby in her strong northern accent.

"captain bright." you beamed as the two of you laid down on the floor side by side, millies hand moving to tenderly push a few loose strands of hair out of your face. "has a nice ring to it, no?" your girlfriend grinned, large hands wandering up the inside of your top and wrapping around your back, pulling you into her strong hold as you exhaled into her chest.

"bestie hug pile!" a new voice sounded making you both jump a little in shock, rach having her own key to millies flat had let herself in, sprinting over and launching herself to land on top of the pair of you.

"rach!" you and millie groaned loudly as her body barreled into you both, her tanned tattooed arms wrapping around your shoulders with a cheerful grin. "australia here we come!" rach yelled proudly, pressing a kiss to both of your cheeks as all three of you chattered excitedly.

as rach hopped off of you and millie pulled you up to your feet you couldn't help but sigh, staring up at her with star crossed eyes like a lovesick puppy, practically feeling your body ooze out pride at the taller blonde.

your captain, always.

[gonetoforks]

Introducing; my version of Rise’s Venus de Milo! (OUTDATED; adding the canon design for BM’s assistant!)

(she/her/thon/thons) She’s about 9 ft tall since she’s equally based off of Frankenstein, IDW Venus and the OG Venus de Milo. more info about her and her life under the cut! (Like, a lot more info, she’s been living in my head since last April) (She’s a year old and I’m only now revealing her info!) (HBD Venus!!)

Her Family in the Hidden City

Big Mama had her made by a scientist/patron of hers during the first 2 seasons as a synthetic competitor for her Battle Nexus, but after her change of heart in the S2 finale, she took thon in as her heiress and daughter to try and do something right for a change. It’s very hard for her. Her parenting style is a good balance of gentle and stern but she thinks praise is a good replacement for emotional vulnerability and it’s turned Venus into quite a megalomaniac. Venus just calls her “Mama” and BM calls her “Veedee” (If she calls thon “Venus,” thon’s in deep shit)

Time wise, after the movie she’s physically at age 1.5, 2 years old, though mentally thon’s about where Leo and Donnie are, 16. (Still very young, please keep in mind she is a child and has big eyes like the teenagers in the show, she’s just tall. If you sexualize her I will send you to the shadow realm. BEHAVE.)

Venus also sees the doctor that made her, Dr Shelly, as her father, and they’re quite close. She spent the first few weeks of her life in his home, mostly in his library where she filled her head with everything most people know intuitively. She often can recite information she has no memory of learning, these first few weeks were less like learning and more like remembering information but from no memories.

Venus’s closest friend & surrogate older sister is Jennika, who works as Big Mama’s assistant (and a fine artist!) under the codename “Frida.” The 2 spend most of their days on diplomatic missions in the Hidden City mafia underworld and managing/restructuring the Battle Nexus to be more ethical. Venus is a naturally studious academic who loves philosophy, literature, and of course, renaissance art, so adults tend to think she’s mature, but only Jennika really knows how naive she can be. Jennika misses her human family, so they’ve really latched onto each other.

She picked her name out herself. When thon was first revived, Shelly rushed up to her and almost addressed her with a name starting with V but stopped himself before he could say it in full. Changed his mind and said that he supposed that name probably wouldn’t fit right now. So she had a preference for a V name.

Thon’s Physiology

It’s quite the mystery how he did it, but the secret to Venus’s sentience is a machine that manages to convert any matter she digests into energy in the form of empyrean. This is why she was mostly kept a rapunzel-like secret for the first few months of her life before she had Jennika as a bodyguard. Nobody knows about her heart except herself, Jennika, Shelly and Big Mama.

If she bleeds or cries, it glows bright green, so she hates both because thon feels like she’s drawing attention to herself. She’s insecure about most of her organic parts anyway and pushes herself to appear stoney, inorganic and perfect. (The consequences of idolizing and wanting to emulate a literal goddess statue, skill issue) It’s not like her fears are completely unfounded though, she has no idea where Shelly got her dead body parts.

If she’s too stressed, the seams on her upper arms bleed and they fall off like a gecko tail. She kinda looks like the og Venus do Milo statue when that happens, it’s a bit gruesome.

To represent her need to balance the organic/inorganic parts of herself, thon’s biggest dreams vs realistic expectations for herself, her right hand is organic (and based off the 2012 turtles) while her left is robotic. (& made to look like big mama’s claws in her spider form)

Goals & wants

She wants to overthrow the council of heads and rule the Hidden City as president. (Through a democracy of course!) She sees them as ineffective and useless, she went to them during the Kraang invasion to tell them something needed to be done about the alien invaders but they did nothing and said to let the turtles handle it. She’s grateful everything turned out well but she still has a grudge against them and the way they run things. Big Mama thinks she’s silly and Jennika thinks she’s a mentally unwell, workaholic, megalomaniac but pizza supreme as her witness, thon’s gonna do it.

Thon wants to be a good, ethical leader/politician (oxymoronic, I know lmao) and sees the increasing amount of Battle Nexus estate Big Mama entrusts her with as practice for managing yokai society. She would love “the Good Place.”

She also wants to know more about Jennika and for her to reconcile with her father.

Venus’s arc

“Your life is your own, ok?!” She struggles with dehumanizing (de-turtle-izing?) herself because she believes it makes her greater, more fit to achieve her goals. When the fact that she’s a mortal, breathing, living being, that can’t possibly be anywhere near divine like thon thinks she needs to be hits her, she spirals. Thon desperately needs to learn that being imperfect is a necessary gift, that she is “the protagonist of her own life” and that you don’t need to be a great person to do great things, you just need to be a person.

She’s very studious and seen as intelligent and mature for her age, but when she’s put in real life situations after meeting her cousins, the turtles, she has to learn to to manage imperfections and embrace them.

She’s quite based off of MP100 and Barbie haha.

For this internal conflict I was inspired by how the original character’s depiction back in the 80’s was really,, dehumanizing? if that’s the right word? Misogynistic very much too. I find the message that; “no matter what other people think of you or what you think of yourself, you will never be anything more or less than a regular being” both comforting in itself and a neat subversion of the original VdM since one of my favorite aspects of Rise’s writing is how subversive it is.

I can’t wait to show you more of her! Esp how she interacts with the Mad Dogs!

Bonus; Design Details!

All the turtles have shape motifs; square, rectangle, circle, triangle, her’s is a Raindrop shape! Combined with her electric motifs she’s a bit of a storm cloud lol

The Turtles’s shells are s-shaped and follow the curvature of a human spine, I draw Venus’s shell really distorted and disproportionate to this since she’s inorganic.

Similarly, while the other turtles shells and plastrons are like boxes that contain their whole torsos, thon’s kinda just sits on top of her torso, where her plastron ends and her legs begin don’t line up. It started out as an anatomical error but i liked how it made her look distorted and off somehow. (Kinda gruesome, but it kinda helps her look like a bloated corpse, which is what she is aksjks) To be clearer, the difference between how the mad dogs’ shells/plastrons/bridges(sides) are attached to their bodies vs Venus’s is like the difference between a bodysuit and a t-shirt.

[splitster]

answering ASKSSSSS

featuring: headcanons, mspaint yonny, and more

check it out! ↓↓

UHH the timeline is already hard enough to follow for 4 it's a little messy... I imagine for the pom wraith AU, it's mostly the events of pikmin 4 with some extra bits tacked onto it (like Olimar encountering the plasm at some point on his lonesome).

WAHHH THANK YOU... heres some secret mod lore, yonny is the HARDEST motherfucker to draw for me. he was ever since i started drawing the rescue corps and he still is!!!!!!!!!!!! his stupid face is so HARD GRRUUAUUGGHH

THANK YOU!!! i have a few bernard drawings/doodles in the pipeline to post eventually

(ive done a few ask masterposts at this point so forgive me if i already answered this one) AHHHHH i mean pom DOES really like Olimar. he challenges her skills out on the field when she's trying to track him down as a leafling which she finds engaging, and she finds him quite charming from the logs she reads. after he's cured, he's nothing but kind and supportive.

i don't think she'd try to take off with him like the plasm, but she'd feel protective over him if something were to threaten him

WAUUGGHH THANK YOU!!!! putting my favorite fictional characters into an enclosure and watching them

THANK YOU!!! you get it, he's so wet and pathetic

YEAH i have more bernard incoming!!! he's so genuinely supportive and it kinda freaks pom out because she can't tell if he has ulterior motivations or not (he doesn't. he's just a really cool dude. they'll become besties💖)

i'll perform the summoning ritual for you anon

there he is. what a jolly fellow

THIS IS A REALLY GOOD QUESTION... i had to consult with my friends for a lengthy food discussion (big hearts to @cosmicocoffee who helped me with like literally all of them)

for Pom, she's a wraith, so she just likes interesting and strong tastes. she's very partial to sweet things, and she LOVES chocolate (because that's one of the first sweets she ever tasted). although, she also like really spicy things because it's a neat feeling. as for least favorite, uh... i mean, the girl will literally eat soap for fun. it's very rare for her to have a food item she despises. they DO exist though, she fucking hates raisins

Dingo likes MANLY food, like MEAT and RIBS. well, he mostly likes being seen eating it. he does have a fondness for sweet things and smoothies. the town he grew up in could get pretty cold, so he grew up eating quite a lot of hot meals like caldo de res (he's especially fond of soups made the way his mama used to make them). he also picks up a fondness for hot tea from growing up with yonny, but he always puts extra honey in his cups. dingo HATES some foods though, especially sushi. the last time he tried to impress people by eating sushi, Dingo was hunched over outside the restaurant with Yonny rubbing his back...

shepherd! likes coffee. @soupvnova said she'd go to starbucks (spacebucks?) often to get the pup cup for oatchi which is very good. she has the healthiest diet out of all of them with routine exercise, protein shakes, lots of fruits and shit. she does have a weakness and a bit of a sweet tooth though, especially for cake. it hardly puts a dent in her diet though given her metabolism, she's a very built captain. she's not a fan of steamed vegetables... too squishy for her.

while talking about shepherd it is imperative to share that Oatchi will eat ANYTHING. if something hits the ground it is in his mouth immediately, shepherd has had to wrestle him to get space dog-unsafe food outta there before. although she will also constantly sneak him stuff from the dinner table

collin's fun because he enjoys eating healthy, he's a fan of fresh spring salads and stuff like pineapples and watermelon, but he also has to live off of a lot of processed/vending machine food because the man pulls all nighters frequently. he's also prone to stress eating... you can find him demolishing a watermelon and he's just. covered with seeds. he likes crunchy foods and seeds-- he's very hamstercore. he comes to Despise instant noodles because of how often he has to rely on them for food in the dead of night

fucking uhhh yonny, he likes foods that pair well with reading, he has pretty "mature" tastes and enjoys tea, maybe a glass of wine if he's feeling it. he often gets tunnel vision with his work and will neglect to eat, and as their doctor he'll have to set reminders on his phone to go have a meal so he doesn't fall ill. i can imagine he's not too into sugary things...

we already know bernard has some very expensive tastes, but he might just struggle with some textures or tastes in food. like, he enjoys pizza, this man is just a very picky eater... i can see him having tastes all over the board though. also he's protective over his stuff, he cared more about dingo eating his pizza than abandoning him

russ. uh... russ. yeah

olimar and louie are not part of the rescue corps, but i could see olimar joining (and louie following) sometime after the events of 4! he'd get a much better benefits package... he'd be good at providing logistical support for rangers out on the field, although his achy back would probably keep him off the field himself

AHH THANK YOU!! i have written some things but i don't have anything published -- to be honest, i'm not much of a fic writer. most of my writing is mostly just me talking through ideas/stories/cool character moments with friends, which is not a very shareable format unfortunately💔

i will say, talking about ideas with buddies gives me a shit load of ideas/motivation for drawing, and a lot of the stuff i've posted probably had that as an origin

THANK YOU!! and yeah of course that's fine! every artist is a collection of inspirations, and i'm no exception. my style comes from studying what i like in art and media (made by other people). i'm honored you find me as an inspiration💖

AUGH AUGH THANK YOU!!! i appreciate the anatomically correct hearts 💖💖

YEAHH i have designs that i've been meaning to flesh out but i'm lazy... i've been sitting on a dingo and yonny wraith design for like a month now, i should just bite the bullet and post them as-is if i ever want to share them... oh well! it's all for fun, i'm not gonna stress about it looking good

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thank you for reading this far!! and thank you all for the asks, i will continue to slowly get through them...