#to be fair it's because i scheduled so many days off from work for next week

[stagtorccio]

zombie girl

lottie matthews x gn!reader

request: x summary: what a dream that was / i almost couldn't wake because / i was frozen in bed with a zombie girl / vacant as a closed down fair or: the yellowjackets get rescued. none of them are the same, especially not the girl you used to dream of coming home to. warnings: angst angst and more angst. not really many specific warnings though word count: 1901 author's note: i'm not dead .. who knew

[AO3]

𓃢𓃦𐂂 ── .✦

January, 1998.

The headlines were everywhere.

LOST GIRLS FOUND.

WISKAYOK HIGH YELLOWJACKETS RETURN HOME.

You saw them before you got the call– photos, grainy footage, screaming anchors trying to make sense of the impossible. Sunken eyes, bruised skin, smiles that never reached the eyes.

Ghosts made flesh. Girls turned cautionary tale turned girls again.

Your phone rang not long after.

You were one of Lottie's listed emergency contacts. A name scribbled on a form from years ago, back when things were simpler and still sweet between you. Back before she left that May morning for a flight and the world tore itself in two.

The voice on the line was clipped, rehearsed. A nurse or a social worker, maybe. You don’t remember much of what they said. Just that she was alive. That she’d asked for no one. But that they thought maybe you, alongside her parents, should know.

You were one of the first people to see her after the plane touched down.

She moved like her bones weren’t fully hers anymore. Her clothes hung off her like they’d belonged to someone else. Some older girl. Some dead girl.

Her hair was longer, darker, like it had soaked up stagnant mud water and never dried out. It clung to her neck in damp ropes. There were scrapes on her knuckles. A faint scar– a gash across her third eye you didn’t remember.

She didn’t say anything. Not then. Not for weeks. She just looked at you with those impossible eyes– glassy and bottomless– like she was staring through you, or maybe into you. And whatever she saw, it wasn’t enough. Wasn’t real. Wasn’t safe.

It was like being studied by a stranger wearing your lover’s face.

And still, you let her in.

She’d been given a schedule. Something her doctors had decided would help her transition back to normal life, whatever that meant. A week at home with her parents. A week with you. Rinse, then repeat. It was generous, her mother had said, through a tight, brittle smile. Like you were a visiting nurse instead of the person Lottie used to brush noses and lips with in the dark of hallway closets.

But some nights, when Lottie was asleep, or at least still, her mother would call. Her voice already wet with tears. You’d talk quietly in the hallway like teenagers hiding something. She would ask if Lottie had eaten. If she’d spoken. If she seemed like her old self.

You never had the heart to say no. Not directly.

During your weeks with her, you would tell Lottie about your day. You made her soup, even when she wouldn’t eat. You cried one night and apologized for it the next morning, ashamed of the sound of your own voice.

Ashamed of needing anything from her.

You touched her hand once, gently, and felt nothing. No tension. No recoil. Just skin. Warm, but blank, like a mannequin left too long in the sun.

Sometimes, when you were talking– about work, about the new neighbors, about that stupid dream you had where you were both still in high school– you caught yourself smiling like an idiot. Like she was going to smile back. Like she was going to laugh.

She never did. She was there, but she wasn’t. Her body moved through your space, slept in your bed, left the faintest scent on your pillow. But whatever she was now, whatever that place had made of her, it wasn’t what she used to be.

You tried to keep her anyway.

So when she finally spoke– just past 2 AM, your mouth still slack with sleep, her voice flat and rusted– you didn’t think it was real at first. Just a dream’s echo. A noise your brain invented to feel less alone.

“I’m leaving tomorrow,” she said, barely louder than the ticking of the wall clock. “I’m going to Switzerland.”

You blinked up at her, disoriented. “What?”

She didn’t look at you. Her gaze was pinned to the far corner of the room, hands folded neatly in her lap, trembling just slightly.

“My parents booked the flight.”

That was it. No explanation. No apology. No warning. The first thing she’d said to you in sixty-four days, and the last.

You sat up slowly, every part of you vibrating with something between shock and fury. The silence cracked wide open inside your chest. Something hot and angry poured out of it. You lost it. Of course you did.

You said things you meant and things you didn’t. You told her she didn’t care. That she never had. You asked how she could spend two months wordless, watching you fall apart, only to drop her departure like it meant nothing.

You said you waited. You said you loved her. You said this is not what people do when they love someone.

Lottie didn’t cry. She didn’t raise her voice. She didn’t even flinch. And that only made it worse.

You grabbed your keys and stormed out, no coat, no wallet, no plan– just raw, blind heat carrying you down the stairs. You slammed the door so hard behind you it sounded like a gunshot, and you hoped, for just a second, that it would shake something loose in her.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ 𓃢𓃦𐂂 ────────────────────── .✦

You came back early the next morning, shame pressing at your ribs.

Quietly. Gently. In case she was asleep. You were already rehearsing your apology.

You were going to tell her you were scared. That you didn’t mean all of it. That you just wanted her to talk to you.

But the bed was made. Her coat was gone. So was her toothbrush. The drawer she kept her notebooks in was empty.

You sat on the edge of the mattress, numb and weightless, staring at the spot on the wall where her shadow used to fall in the mornings. The light coming through the blinds looked bleached and unfamiliar, like it didn’t belong to this place anymore.

Eventually, you lay down on the side she used to sleep on. The sheets were cold. Her scent lingered faintly on the pillowcase, lavender and something earthy. You pulled the blanket up to your chin and stayed still.

You told yourself that if you were quiet enough, if you didn’t breathe too loud, maybe she’d slip back in beside you, just like before. Bare feet, cold hands. Humming how she did when she thought you were asleep.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ 𓃢𓃦𐂂 ────────────────────── .✦

The days bleed together after she leaves.

You stop checking the calendar. There’s no point. Morning and night become suggestion more than certainty, light shifting lazily through the blinds in varying degrees of gold and gray when you remember to open them. Sometimes you sleep until dusk. Sometimes you don’t sleep at all. Sometimes you sit in the kitchen at 3 AM, barefoot on the cold tile, watching the kettle even though you aren’t making tea.

The apartment is quiet in a new way. Not the silence of a person not speaking— it's a hollowing, horrible silence. The kind that swallows things. The kind that presses in around your ears like water until you can hear the blood rushing in your head, your teeth grinding in your sleep, the faint echo of something moving in the next room when you’re the only one there.

You stop turning on the lights.

For the first few days, you kept catching glimpses of her in mirrors. In your periphery. Sitting in the chair by the window, the way she used to when she couldn’t sleep. You’d blink and she’d be gone, but your heart wouldn’t stop racing. You’d look at the chair anyway. Just in case.

You start talking to her again. You can’t help it.

Quiet things at first: Good morning. I had a weird dream. I think it’s going to rain.

Sometimes you laugh mid-sentence, like she’s really there. Like she’d lift her head and smirk. Raise one eyebrow. Whisper something strange and lovely and totally useless in response. You can almost hear it. Almost feel her breath on your neck when you turn too fast.

One night, you set the table for two.

You don’t realize it until you’re already sitting down, fork in hand, the other plate full and untouched. You stare at it for a long time. Her chair. Her glass. Her favorite tea cooling beside a bowl of food she would never eat.

You don’t cry. You just take her plate to the fridge and store it carefully, like it would be rude to leave it sitting too long. Like she might still come in, late, guilty, reach for your wrist with shaking fingers to say she’s changed her mind, that she’s hungry today.

You liked those days, as few and far between as they were.

You start sleeping on the couch.

Her side of the bed feels too empty. You can’t take the weight of it anymore. But even there, curled beneath a blanket that still smells vaguely of her shampoo, she comes to you. Or something does. You wake up gasping, swearing you felt her fingers brushing the back of your neck.

You start dreaming in her voice.

Not her old voice– not the real one, soft and warm and a little sarcastic– but the voice after. The low, rusted one. The voice from the night she said goodbye.

You don’t know how many days have passed. Maybe eight. Maybe eighteen. Maybe eighty. Time doesn’t truly pick up again until you find it. The envelope: thin, foreign, out of place among overdue bills and grocery circulars.

You turn it over once, twice. Your name is written across the front in neat, looping script. You’ve kissed the knuckles of the hand it belongs to.

The letter is postmarked: Zürich. There’s no return address.

You don’t open it right away. You just stand in the doorway, keys still in your other hand, shoes still on, staring at it. It’s already too late. You know that. You know whatever it contains can only dig further into an already sore wound.

But you open it anyway. There’s only one sheet inside. Lightweight paper, folded once down the middle. No date. No greeting. No dear you. Just her voice, small and impossibly clear:

I’m allowed to write now. They think I’m getting better. I'm bored here. I don’t do much. I sleep, mostly. Switzerland is quiet. Everything here is so clean. I miss the mess of the apartment. I think I left the wrong version of myself behind. I’m sorry. I don’t know if that matters. There’s a girl in the room next to mine who hums while she paints. I can’t stand it. I hope you’re eating. Please don’t forget to. I’ll write again if I can. — L. M.

You read it twice, then again, slower. Your eyes catch on certain lines like burrs: left the wrong version of myself behind. Please don’t forget.

She hadn’t asked you to write back. Not that you could.

You stare at the envelope on the counter for a long time. The stark, clean whiteness. The ghost of her fingertips in the paper’s creases. Then you fold the letter back up. Slide it under your pillow.

That night, she’s sitting at the kitchen table, humming. When you wake up, the seat is empty again.

It was a lovely dream, anyway.

[7-wonders]

Seeing Ghosts

Dr. Jack Abbot x psychiatrist!reader (gender-neutral)

Summary: A case hits too close to home for you. Jack wants you to know you're not alone.

Word count: 1.9k

A note from the author: "I'm just going to write a little blurb," I say to myself. "Fucking liar!" my laptop yells at me.

I don't even know what I'm doing with this but I'm watching The Pitt and cannot get this old man out of my head! If you're reading this, I sincerely hope you enjoy!

Content warning: Mentions of suicidal thoughts

You’re on night rotations for the first time in years, taking over for Dr. Gibbons who’s out on paternity leave. Night shift has been kind to you with a fairly easy workload as your body gets adjusted to a completely opposite sleep-wake schedule, but tonight, you’re called down to the ER for a 5150. 20 y/o male, brought to the ER after his roommate found him with cuts to his wrists. He's crying as his wrists are tended to, so sure that some unseen entity is on the phone with Pitt's admissions office right now to get his scholarships revoked.

You recognize him, this young overachiever who has the weight of the world on his shoulders for no real reason other than that he feels it will all collapse if he's not the one to hold it up. Not because you've met him before. You recognize him because, at one point in time, he was you.

One of your favorite parts about your job is getting to truly connect with your patients, and you feel that one of the best ways to do that is by meeting them at their level. Sitting next to them, giving them your first name and insisting they call you by that, and, if they allow for it, holding their hands. You catch a fair amount of shit for it from other doctors (mainly those for whom psychiatry isn't their specialty), but there's a reason why your patient satisfaction scores are so high. You know what you're doing, and you know how to accomplish a positive outcome, so when Shaun Gold takes your outstretched hand, you know you've got an in.

“I understand, that you feel like you’re alone in how you’re feeling right now. But can I tell you a secret?" He nods, and you tighten your grip on his hand. "You're not alone. So many people have felt the exact same way. I have felt the exact same way."

"You have?" Shaun's face opens up at this revelation, seeing in front of him a successful (-ish) doctor who's also battled the lowest of the lows.

"Yep. And I'm not here to tell you that I never feel the way I did then anymore, because I would be lying to you. But I have the right skills now to help me combat those feelings. Therapy, and coping tools, and medication. That's what I'm trying to do for you here. Give you the proper skills so that you can be the best possible version of yourself. And maybe one day, you'll be in my position, helping to give hope to somebody who needs it. So?" You squeeze his hand, smiling when he squeezes back. "Can we help you?"

Shaun agrees, and you get him safely transferred up to your ward with a schedule laid out and a promise that you'll be back in an hour. A favorable outcome, which is all that one can ask for in this career. But it doesn't change the heaviness in your chest, which continues to press down on you even after you're back down in the ER to discuss potential care plans with Ellis. Throwing yourself back into work is normally your trick to get your mind off of a tough case—it's not the healthiest coping mechanism, but mental health is nothing if not a balancing act—and you're left searching for relief. Where's a physician to go when everything feels a little too...much? Your fellow dayshifter clued you in on just the place.

The roof of PTMC is quiet at this time of night, no incoming or outgoing medical flights interrupting your stolen moment of peace. Almost immediately, you can see why Robby finds so much comfort in being up here. Leaning against the railing, having the cool breeze on your face and watching cars crawl through the streets of Pittsburgh like ants in an ant farm...it may not comfort you, exactly, but it does help to calm you down enough that you can focus on the things you would tell a patient in your position to do: deep breathing and grounding.

From behind you comes the sound of the rooftop door opening and closing and your slow exhale turns into a harsh sigh, assuming that it's some medical student coming to find you about a drunk experiencing hallucinations. Do people not remember how to use a pager anymore?

"Fancy seeing you up here." You'd be able to pick Jack Abbot's voice out of a crowd of hundreds, and it's no different now when he's standing behind you. Your shoulders, which you hadn't realized tensed up at the threat of being pulled back to work before you're ready, loosen up almost immediately.

It was naive of you to think that Jack wouldn't have picked up on anything out of the ordinary in any of the doctors on the clock tonight. He and Robby are two of the best ER attendings in the state for many reasons, but the way that they look out for those on their teams is one of them. Ellis probably snitched, you think, before realizing that you're not giving Jack nearly enough credit for his intuitiveness.

"I've heard so much about this 'trick' from Robby, figured now was the perfect time to try it out. Sorry to steal your hiding spot," you call out, keeping your eyes focused on the lights of PNC Park in the distance.

"I'm not going to ask you if you're alright, because god knows I would hate if someone came up here, interrupted my moment of peace, and asked the same." You can't help the smile that appears on your face. "But I am...here. Y'know, just in case you feel like talking."

You recognize this language, and it makes you chuckle. "Who's the psychiatrist here?"

"Not me, thankfully."

"Saw a ghost downstairs," you supply, still staring determinedly ahead. "I'm pretty good at compartmentalizing, at separating my work life from my personal life. But every so often, a certain case comes in that just...hits too close to home."

"I completely understand."

What Jack doesn't tell you is that, the moment you saw your ghost in that student, he saw his own ghost in you. He often hears negative feedback from those in the ivory tower about how he could stand to be a little more caring to, well, everybody. Though Robby hosts some of the worst patient reviews, he has more than a few of his own.

But who the hospital administration hears from is the bad seeds. Drunk idiots, antivaxxer mothers, bigots who think they can get away with snide comments to members of the staff—the types of people for whom complaining is in their blood. They're more than happy to fill out the survey provided to them with their discharge instructions, flaming everything and everything about the hospital—but especially about Dr. Abbot, who has been called anything from "gruff and unapproachable" to "a raging asshole."

He doesn't do this for them, though. He does it for the people that can actually benefit from his help, those who likely won't fill out a survey. The young parent frantically making sure that every test and procedure for their sick child is covered by Medicaid before consenting. The unhoused man being treated on his fingers for frostbite (and who will find a warm, sturdy pair of gloves tucked with his discharge paperwork).

The veteran fresh off a tour of duty and having her first real bout of PTSD.

You found yourself caught off guard by how close you felt to this case, and in that moment, he saw himself in you.

"I've been that student before—still am, sometimes," you admit quietly, knowing Jack will still hear it. "I was always too scared of what would happen to me if people found out I was feeling this way. I was sure that I'd be judged by everyone, but especially by doctors. I had no reason to feel that way, of course, but I didn't know any better at the time. I think that's why this case got to me; I needed him to hear me, to know for certain that he wasn't alone in his feelings and that he had friends in those who would be taking care of him."

Jack's silent, but you know that's not a bad thing. When he finally speaks, his voice is closer than it was when he first joined you on the roof. "I think that's what distinguishes good doctors from great doctors. Good doctors study hard, perform quality work, and genuinely care for their patients. But the great doctors are those who allow their experiences to fuel them. Who go through pain, or heartbreak, or grief, and use those feelings to guide their work and how they treat those that come under their care. And you, my friend, are a damn great doctor."

"Thanks, Jack." You don't say what you want to, which is that he's describing himself, too. The man's trying to teach a lesson, after all, and you've seen his disdain when his lessons have been hijacked before.

"Got any plans after work?" he asks.

"Besides still trying to get used to working nights?"

He chuckles. "Can't help you there. But if you're not feeling like the walking dead come seven, I know a great diner in the area. We can share some more ghost stories, maybe. Only condition is that you can't divulge the location after we go, no matter how much you may want to sing its praises. I can't go having my favorite breakfast spot overrun by interns and residents, after all."

It's a good thing that you're still facing away from Jack, because you wouldn't be able to school your face to some neutral expression fast enough. You'd be lying if you said you hadn't carried a bit of a torch for Jack for a while—the kind of crush that's easy to sustain when you work opposite shifts and your interactions are in stolen five-minute interactions before your shift ends and his begins. If this were day shift, you know Dana would be teasing you endlessly and going on about the betting pool that's allegedly been steadily gaining money since you volunteered to temporarily move to nights.

("Garcia has twenty on you both being too chicken to make a move before Gibbons returns from paternity leave," Dana whispered to you last week when she was supposed to be giving you a status update on the Kraken before clocking out for the night. "Don't give her a win."

"I don't know what you're talking about," you claimed, cheeks burning as you focused on reading from the tablet in your hands.)

"Let me guess, the VFW?" you tease.

"Nah, their pancakes suck."

On your next exhale, when the heaviness in your chest seems to have finally abated, you turn around to face Jack. He's closer than you thought he would be, a couple of feet away at most. Close enough that you can see the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles at you. "Alright, we can go to your super secret breakfast spot. But I'm expecting world-class waffles, deal?"

"Deal."

When Jack wraps an arm around your shoulders in a loose hug, he doesn't put it down again until right before the elevator doors open on the ER. You don't mind in the slightest.

[supergraphicgirl81]

Destiny is Calling Me `♡´. ₊˚ ☎︎₊˚

Pairings: Oscar Piastri x Reader (She/Her)

Summary: After hurriedly being rushed to the club by Lando and Logan, Oscar grapples with flashbacks of his past relationship and ponders the idea of fate as he unexpectedly runs into his long-term ex-girlfriend in a run-down college club after over a year and a half of not talking, at a school neither of them planned on going.

Warnings: none, just some cursing

Words: ....9.7K

Authors Notes: Okay guys it's happening. I’m literally about to go out to the club but I wanted to make sure I got this out first, I finally tried writing a full story. NFBJFBOUERBGPRE I'm so nervous but this plot has been haunting my mind for ages now and I needed it in actual words, so here it is. Guys if it is bad just tell me PLEASE but other than that I really hope you guys enjoy !!!!!!!! BTW it's very long, so sorry

Oscar didn't know why he was there really.

What he did know was that he had just spent the past 7 hours studying for his Thermodynamics Exam that was on Monday and that he had to wake up at 8 a.m. to do it all over again tomorrow.

But like any good teammate, or well roommate in this case, when Lando and Logan text you in dire need of assistance at the club, you go with no hesitation, even if they failed to mention that the “emergency” was Oscar's so-called loneliness that Lando claims he could smell even from across the screen. 

Oscar met Logan on the first day of college freshman year in some random class he can barely remember now. Logan always says it was Anthropology but Oscar swears it was Humanities. 

On the first day of class, Logan had to ask Oscar for a pencil because he forgot one, which Oscar of course didn't mind giving, especially because he gave it back. So when Logan sat in the same seat right next to Oscar during their second class meeting and asked him again to borrow a pencil, an unannounced friendship was created.

After about a week of small talk between the two, Oscar learned that Logan was looking for a sport to fill up his schedule with while he was in the off-season for football. Oscar explained how he was actually looking to try out for the Ice Hockey team at the school if he also happened to be interested. He had played all throughout high school and was looking into picking it back up after taking a break. 

It's safe to say Logan didn’t know how to play hockey, but he claimed he was a fast learner, Oscar still doesn’t know exactly how true that is. 

Now, it just so happens that Logan and Oscar also ended up meeting Lando that same day. And by meeting I mean Lando ran right into Logan while riding his skateboard in a hurry to class. Lando made sure to quickly exchange his number before riding away (late) to class, sending many apologies later and even offering to hang out.

From there an odd but somewhat working trio was formed through many late-night hockey practices and class study sessions. Now in their second year and unfortunately living together, Lando and Logan are convinced about getting Oscar out of his shell and more into the scene in which Oscar always refuses. This leads him to where he is currently, at the club, on a Saturday night. Which to be fair, is probably where he should be anyway.

Unmoved by their usual antics Oscar rolls his eyes at the two before speaking up in a hurry, trying to leave as soon as possible 

“Please don’t tell me you two called me down here because I was studying, in the quiet apartment, by myself?” Oscar emphasizes looking at Lando and Logan with his eyebrows raised and a deadpanned face. 

Lando quickly looks away from staring at Oscar, quickly determining the floor to be more important as Logan tilts his head left and right, throwing his hands up in a shrug, making a weird face at Oscar.

That is exactly what they did.

After their faces and a silence that went on for a couple of seconds too long, Oscar exclaimed in annoyance, slightly throwing his hands out “Guys! I literally have a test on Monday, I’m in major study-panic mode, I can’t be wasting time here at the club.” 

Lando immediately makes a shocked face at his words, offended by his soulless dismissal of the party life “But Oscarrrrrrrrr” He cries jumping up and down erratically before Logan puts a hand on his shoulder stopping him, and continuing on “Oh come on Oscar! Let’s be realistic here, you probably weren't even studying anyways, you were just listening to your “I’m still heartbroken over my ex” playlist, AGAIN” He insinuates, rolling his eyes at Oscar, he’s never met someone quite so down bad for a girl before, well besides maybe Charles Leclerc. 

Oscar Deadpans before standing up for himself “The playlist is called Getting OVER My Ex, you know that!” rolling his eyes “And you would be too if you knew her!”

Logan lets out a loose chuckle as he moves forward to pull Oscar to the dance floor but Oscar quickly takes a step backward before any of the two boys can get him

“No. You know what?” Oscar states confidently, sticking his chest out hesitantly “I am leaving, get home safely.”

He swiftly turns around and is about to make his way to the exit, shaking his head ever so slightly when he freezes.

And there she is. Oscar sees her, clear as day. He could never mistake that familiar silhouette.

A blonde is briskly making her way through the crowded club into the bar line surrounded by two other girls. As he watches her go by from afar, he's taken aback, he still sees everything so clearly, just like it was yesterday.  

FLASHBACK

It was Oscars freshman year and the first day back after Winter break, he was currently in between classes in the hallway and just about to head to the cafeteria to eat lunch with his friends. But first, he had to shove the extra textbooks Oscar checked out from the library for an up-and-coming project he had in his Biology class, into his locker.

Now Oscar oftentimes didn't mind work, but he couldn't believe that school had only just started back and his Bio teacher was already giving out projects to start. Not only that, but it was a partner project, meaning he either had to find a friend to partner with or just get stuck with a rando in his class picked for him by the teacher.

Guess which one Oscar was going with. 

Oscar stood outside his locker messing with the lock trying to get it to open when he heard a familiar laugh. Looking up to his side at the noise he saw a group of girls walking and laughing down the halls, deep in conversation.

More importantly, he saw the prettiest girl ever, this blonde girl, Y/N L/N, he always saw her around school, she was in a couple of his classes, Biology actually being one of them.

One time in Biology she flipped her hair over her shoulder and (accidentally) made eye contact with him and smiled, and Oscar’s friend, Daniel, always claims that that was the best thing to ever happen to him. 

Looking back to his locker and continuing back to grumpily shoving his textbooks in his locker, Oscar blocked out all other noises and conversations around him, just like he always did.

So much so that he even failed to hear the little ‘Hellos’ coming from his right side. To be fair she was standing directly behind the locker.

Oscar didn't even notice somebody was standing there until he shut his locker door, slamming it admittedly a little harder than intended. This caused both Y/N and Oscar to jump.

Well, she jumped because of the unexpected loud sound, Oscar jumped because Y/N L/N was currently standing right in front of him. 

After Oscar just stared at her in silence for a few seconds too long, Y/N cleared her throat and started to speak “Uh, you're Oscar right?” She asks, the slightest pink ever so dusting her cheeks. Oscar nodded his head, starting to smile ever so slightly responding with “Yeah I’m Oscar. Y/N right?”

Shocked he knew her name as well Y/N smiled even brighter, standing up straighter “Yeah! It is, You're in my biology class, right?” “I am! I was actually just putting away some extra books I picked up, just some topic points for the project coming up” Oscar responds, huffing slightly at the end, clearly annoyed at the idea of the project.

Laughing lightly at his loud, telltale emotions Y/N speaks up “How annoying right? Like we just got back from break, how are you already freaking me out about my grades.” Y/N states still laughing, rolling her eyes as she comfortably leans against the locker looking at Oscar.

He laughs along with her sentiments feeling the same way, not exactly knowing what to say next.

She makes him nervous.

Noticing the sudden silence, Y/N straightens up standing up off the lockers, clapping her hands before starting her proposition.

“Well! As you know the Biology project is partner work, and I know you said you kind of already started with topics and everything but I was wondering -if you didn't have one already-  if you wanted to maybe be partners?”

Oscar cuts her off, quickly responding to her question “Yes! I mean yeah, that sounds cool, I don't mind showing you the topics I’ve thought about” Oscar stutters out trailing off towards the end, blushing slightly at his own eagerness and nerves.

He soon though relaxed once he saw her smiling, laughing slightly at him.

“Alright then.” Y/N smiles at him, blushing slightly as well “Sounds good.” She finishes as she reaches into her backpack's front pocket and pulls out a pen and a sticky note, moving it to the locker so she can write her number on it as Oscar just stares at her writing her number for him and hands him the sticky note once she's done. 

Just then the bell rings signaling that Lunch is starting, Y/N smiles at Oscar one more time before saying “Bye Oscar! I’ll text you later!” and turning around, walking down the hall towards the cafeteria where her friends are. 

Oscar can't help but continue to watch her walk down the hall until she's fully gone. Smiling to himself, he then turns back around to face his locker, opening it back up once more, this time pinning Y/Ns sticky note to the locker door before he closes it for the last time and heads off to the cafeteria. His lunch just got a whole lot better, he can’t wait to tell Daniel.

It has been a full year since Oscar last saw her, maybe even longer. He can’t believe he just saw her.

Suddenly Oscar is jolted out of his trance when he feels a hand on his shoulder shaking him slightly, he hears Lando speak up “Uh Oscar, are you alright?”,

Logan asks quickly after “Yeah buddy, you kinda froze, me and Lando thought you were leaving?”

“She’s here” Oscar ominously states with slightly wide eyes.

Lando swiftly looks to his right and left scrunching up his face before speaking back up, scared of Oscar's implications, asking “Uh who’s she?” 

Oscar then rolls his eyes shaking Lando's hand off of him before turning around and facing the two boys, crossing his arms, shiftily looking over their shoulders on the lookout, “My ex, I just saw her standing right over there in line, with her friends” Oscar states as he points towards the bar line on the far left side of the club. 

The sound of the revelation causes Lando to let out the biggest gasp Oscar’s ever heard from him (and that's saying a lot) while Logan's eyes bulge out of his head, mouth agape. The two boys who were taken aback and stunned into silence quickly burst out into questions, loudly overlapping each other

“What do you mean your ex?” “Now are we sure it was her?” “Like THE three-and-a-half-year long ex?”

Oscar again rolls his eyes at the two antics (he swears his eyes really are going to get stuck like that), looking to the side towards the bar area spotting a glimpse of the familiar blonde hair now walking towards the dance floor, Oscar sighs before explaining shortly, “Of course I mean that ex, shes my only ex!” Oscar exclaims impatiently at Logan and Lando as he faces them again closing his eyes shortly,

“I’m unfortunately 100% certain that's her, I would recognize her anywhere. Literally, what do I do, she hates me! The last time I saw her she was uncontrollably crying at me. I have to leave now!” Oscar starts to ramble off, going through with his final decision, turning around and briskly starting to walk away before Lando can grab him by the shoulders and pull Oscar back to the two. After being pulled back deeper into the club, Oscar shuts his eyes tightly in order to avoid the situation at hand.  

At the sudden, and very rare moment of silence, Oscar reopens his eyes to be met with Lando looking at his face all twisting up with concern, and Logan staring at him looking more determined than ever with his fist to his mouth, deep in thought.

Lando can't help but mumble quietly in response to Oscar as he awkwardly looks around the club “Well you did break her heart, I’d be crying too.” and Oscar can't help but let out a groan at Lando's insinuation as Logan starts his new plan of action for the night. 

“Well okay now..” Oscar groans again, louder this time not wanting to hear what Logan has to say, throwing his hands up, Logan continues

“Let’s! Think about this. Oscar, what is exactly so bad about this whole thing?” Logan asks genuinely, waving his hands around towards the crowd.

With a face in shock and eyebrows raised high Oscar answers “Great question Logan, Let's see! Well uh for starters we dated for three amazing years and were supposed to last throughout college, until what happened again? Oh right! Until I broke us up right when high school ended so we could” Oscar finishes with quotations “experience life individually”

At the sound of Oscar's reasoning behind his and Y/Ns breakup, Oscar could see Lando's mouth drop even further, somehow more in shock Oscar would do something like that, and he himself couldn’t agree more.

Logan slightly cringes as Oscar explains his past before speaking up again “Okay, I’m hearing the issue, but still! What about the other parts of the three years, where you weren't breaking up with her? Weren’t they good?” 

At Logan's simple but taxing question, Oscar lets out another breath he didn't notice he was holding as he answers him “Of course, they were good, being with her was the time of my life”

Oscar can’t help but smile ever so timidly as he remembers one of his favorite moments with her. God, it felt like so long ago now. 

FLASHBACK

Oscar was currently running around his room tidying it up in the last places he could as he frantically looked at the clock. 2:52. Fuck. She’s almost here.

Ever since that one fateful locker meeting where Y/N and Oscar decided to be Project partners, Y/N has been over at Oscar's house around three times a week to study, or at least that's what they were saying.

Now realistically when Y/N came over they spent about 25% doing the project, the rest of the 75% came in just talking, driving around the city, and hanging out with each other.

It started as just normal studying until Oscar asked if she wanted him to walk her home one night, and when she happily obliged, they got to talking. This led to talking during the study sessions, which then turned to talking over text, constantly, which led them to where they are today.

Not that Oscar was complaining, he has never had a better time while doing his homework.

But she's been coming around so often now that it's gotten even harder to just push his feelings aside. Especially when he's trying to explain presentation points to her and she’s just staring at him, smiling, he has a hard time staying on topic.

Sometimes he thinks he's positive that she returns his feelings, cause surely nobody wants to actually meet up that many times to go over a project, right? But some days he also realizes that you're Y/N and he's Oscar and that he's realistically never stood a chance.

So naturally, with the abundance of hanging out going on, Oscar invited Y/N, yet again, today after school to continue working on their Biology project, to which Y/N of course obliged.

Which leads him to where he currently was, frantically pacing around his room waiting for the clock to strike 3.

Just as Oscar was sorting out a couple of last loose items on his desk he heard a knock at his door, promptly causing him to roll his eyes, moving to open his bedroom door while simultaneously jokingly, but not jokingly scolding his mother “What Mom? You know Y/Ns coming over, what's so import-” Oscar stops mid-sentence as he opens his door to see Y/N standing there, in all her glory.

Making a shocked face, cheeks blushing ever so lightly, Oscar chuckles “Y/N! You are indeed not my mother” Oscar laughs it off, trying his hardest to not make things awkward as he stands frozen in the doorway. 

Y/N noticing his very obvious nerves, tilts her head to the side and laughs it off “I am indeed not your mother. That would make this a little weird.” She ever so slightly insinuates pushing past Oscar and the door, into his room immediately making her way to his bed, after carelessly throwing her backpack to the side, she jumps onto Oscar's bed and flips around, lying on her stomach, kicking her feet up in the air. 

Oscar watches in awe as she makes her way confidently through his room, straight to his bed. He shakes his head ever so slightly at her throwing her backpack before moving across the room as well, plopping down right next to her on his bed, laying down on his back.

Taking in the silence and her presence, Oscar closes his eyes briefly.

However after a couple of minutes, slightly perturbed by the silence from the usually chatty girl, Oscar reopens his eyes to check and see what she's up to. 

He was deeply surprised to be met with her eyes already staring at him, she was smiling warmly at him with the faintest pink cheeks, hair strands falling down her face, she looked kind of perfect.

Caught off guard by the hard-staring Oscar raised a brow at her already questioning actions, before vaguely smirking while squinting and asking out loud “What are you staring and smiling at” 

Feeling slightly caught, Y/Ns cheeks light up as she moves from her current position on his bed to crossing her legs. Still sitting right in front of him, she smiles sheepishly, trying, but not succeeding, to laugh it off “Nothing. Mind your business Piastri.”Y/N responds tilting her head to the side again as she continues to look down at Oscar.

This causes Oscar to smile brightly, pushing up on his forearms and resting on them so he’s closer to you before he answers your sass “I think this is my business.” Staring into Oscar's eyes you chuckle lightly at his response to you, squinting at him, it’s so Oscar. 

  There are a couple of moments of silence before Oscar lets out a large sigh and a smile, causing you to roll your eyes as Oscar then sits up from his position on his bed so he can grab his textbook at the edge of the bed saying “Alright then.” before laying back down in his same spot (maybe slightly closer to Y/N, but who’s counting).

Opening up the textbook, Oscar flips through the pages before landing on the one he's looking for, he then looks back up at Y/N asking “Ready to start?” 

Y/N stared down at Oscar for a couple more seconds, nodding ever so lightly, but instead of answering, in one quick motion, she leaned down from her position and grabbed Oscar's face softly before kissing him.

The kiss was so short Oscar didn't even have time to resonate that he should be kissing back before she pulled away. 

Moving quickly, Y/N moved to sit up relaxing slightly, sitting more on her side, smiling timidly, until Oscar carefully, but swiftly placed his hand on her face and pulled her back down again, kissing her this time. The kiss only lasted a couple of seconds longer until they were pulling away again. The pair stayed there for a couple of seconds just looking at each other. 

Both smiling like idiots, giggling softly, Y/N goes to respond to Oscar's previous question “Yeah, I’m ready.” She answers leaning slightly on him as she grabs her pencil, cheeks red and smiling widely.

Oscar chuckles along softly with her also moving closer to her before starting the project “Alright then, I think it's about time we talk about exploring the potential of biofuels for sustainable energy sources” 

Coming back to his sad reality, Oscar opens his eyes to see Lando looking at him, almost on the verge of tears, yet jumping up and down exuberantly, before he goes to speak “Osc that's great news!” He finishes with a voice crack.

Oscar feels slightly weirded out by Lando's random burst of happiness over him and his ex-girlfriend he's never met and yet he also finds it comforting.

In an attempt to make Lando understand Oscar's situation more, Oscar tries to answer Lando “I mean not really at all, but thank you-” Oscar gets quickly cut off by Logan who is now looking at Oscar deeply offended.

“Oscar! I don’t get it. Your ex-girlfriend of three great years is here and you have the chance to rekindle it! You broke it off, and now you can mend it back up! Literally save the day!” Logan exclaims, which prompts Oscar to roll his eyes, annoyed by Logan's determination to solve this

“Logan you don’t understand. I broke it off for a reason” Oscar emphasizes, the guilt from that night starting to creep up on him.

Logan sees Oscar's growing impatience and decides to take it back a notch, slowing down for a second before responding to Oscar “You're right I don't understand. Why did you really break up with her? If it was so good then why did you end things?” 

Oscar promptly goes to answer Logan “I-” Before stopping and huffing slightly, taking a couple of seconds before he decides to pull Logan and Lando further to the side of the still-busy club, making it easier for him to talk. 

“I guess I was just scared.” Oscar lets out, staring back at Logan and Lando’s so far blank faces for a couple of seconds, before speaking again “I mean I know that's probably boring of me to say but, I was scared for me and Y/N to have a future together. All we had ever known was each other and I guess I just sort of started to wonder that maybe it would be best to live our lives a little separately.”

After that first sentence, the words just started to pour out of Oscar, it was easy for him to remember, he thinks about the night he decided more than he probably should. 

FLASHBACK

Oscar sat there on the edge of his bed. He had just gotten out of the shower and was supposed to be starting on his AP English literature essay that’s due tomorrow which he had been pushing off recently.

But instead, he found himself just sitting there, thinking. He found that he often spent his life thinking these days, it felt like 24/7 to Oscar. Well you know, at least when he had the time to. 

He was always thinking about something, whether he wanted to or not.

He was thinking about the hockey practices he needed to drill and nail down. If it wasn't hockey practices, it was the handful of college applications he had to complete, deadlines were coming soon. And of course, if it wasn't applications it was always Y/N.

And while yes in the first couple of years, Oscar never minded making Y/N one of his top priorities, now, it was starting to take a toll. It was Oscar's senior year of high school and instead of partying, having fun, and just letting loose he was always on edge, freaking out about his future.

He was nervous about his future in college, nervous about his future with hockey, and most nervous about his future with Y/N, recently he had just been thinking. 

As he sits on his bed absentmindedly staring at his walls he feels his phone vibrate, looking at the message as it briefly pops up on his screen, Oscar sees Y/N's name flash across. Oscar subconsciously lets out a sigh as he stares at the screen until it goes black.

Lately, it’s almost like she's been getting on his nerves, Oscar just didn't know why.

Standing up abruptly, Oscar made his way over to his desk, picking up his backpack from the ground, and placing it on his desk. As Oscars grabs his notebook and textbook from his backpack the photos that he has had hung on his board since sophomore year catch his eye.

In particular, he focuses on the photobooth photo.

It’s a series of 4 photos of Y/N and Oscar on one of their dates, it was one of his favorites, it’s where he said I love you for the first time, cliche maybe, but it was perfect, kind of like them. Or at least kind of like how they used to be. 

As Oscar stares at the photos of him and Y/N, he smiles ever so slightly, thinking of all the good times they’ve had before the small smile drops.

There his mind goes again, Oscar sighs heavily, he doesn't understand why he's having such trouble with your guy's relationship recently, he knows you guys fight, and maybe it's been more frequent than normal, but why has this relationship been such a strain on him?

It’s probably because it just turned into an unwanted cycle, Oscar calls Y/N and something about it makes her upset, Y/N goes over to Oscars and something upsets Oscar, and probably her as well. Everything was just starting to feel like a lose-lose situation and he wondered when this started happening. 

As his thoughts start to rack up again, Oscar pauses grabbing his stuff from his backpack, and breathes slightly for a couple of seconds before moving to sit back on the edge of his bed.

He feels his phone vibrate again and he closes his eyes, thinking hard this time.

Oscar has had his eyes set on you since your guy's freshman year. Oscar has known he has wanted to be with you, for as long as you will allow, since freshman year. Oscar also knows that it has been 3 years since then and you both have grown, perhaps even differently. 

Opening his eyes and turning his head. Oscar stares back at the photobooth photo, frowning slightly.

You two will be going to college soon and will be growing in so many different ways, so different that maybe staying together will hinder those experiences.

Oscar's thoughts feel silent for a second before he recognizes it, maybe that's what he has been feeling lately. Trapped in a box.

Going to college means new experiences, new traditions, new friends, and maybe even a new girlfriend? Or at least, experiencing the individual life. He doesn’t want another girlfriend outside of Y/N, he just doesn’t want a relationship at all in general right now.

That’s a new thought for him. 

Hearing a faint noise from the kitchen, Oscar breaks out of his trance from staring at the photo. He stands up and makes his way to his bedroom door, heading to the bathroom before catching himself in the mirror that hangs on the back.

He was surprised to see watery eyes staring back at him when he looked in the mirror. After standing there for what felt like an eternity, Oscar let out a little sniffle as he nodded slightly to himself, almost in agreement with what he just decided in his head.

He knew what he, unfortunately, needed to do, it was time for new experiences, right?

Lando speaks this time trying to break through to Oscar’s overwhelming silence “Okay… So now we get that part Oscar, but still, can’t you at least just talk to her about all of this? Explain it to her maybe?” Lando tries to reason before Logan speaks up “And for all you know, it's been a couple of years, you two have both probably changed so much, she knows that.”

Oscar stares at the two as they try to sound hopeful for him, Oscar feels bad for shooting the two down so fast. They just didn't understand the levels behind him and you. 

It came out of nowhere, she was so blindsided he didn't see how she could forgive him, he wouldn't.

After a couple of seconds Oscar sighs again before raining on their parades “You guys don't understand how it went down. You didn't see her face. I genuinely had never seen her so upset before.” Oscar winces as the memory replays in his head before sighing and continuing.

“And the worst part was that I was the one that caused it.” He regrets every day how it all went down, that’s not how he wanted you two to go out. 

FLASHBACK

Oscar was currently sitting on the edge of his bed, again. Frozen in something. Fear, guilt, annoyance, he didn’t know.

What he did know is that after the revelation he made Monday, he decided on a plan for himself, now it was Friday night, and he had invited you over. 

You were currently sitting on his bed as well, just much more relaxed, leaning up against his headboard, staring at him as he sat there on the edge.

See, Oscar about five minutes ago was just cuddling with you until he had to go to the bathroom, but then when he came back, instead of getting back in bed with you, he sat on the edge of the bed.

After about two minutes of silence, Y/N decides to finally see what’s happening

“Uh, hey Osc?” She questions as she moves from her position to sitting right behind Oscar, placing her hand on his shoulder blade and continuing with her question “What’s happening? Is everything okay?” 

At the sound of her last question, Oscar closes his eyes, inhaling a deep breath before opening his eyes and letting out his breath. Oscar turns his body to the side so he can look at Y/N. He sees her smiling small at him, with no clue in the world.

“I think we should break up” 

Oscar watches clear as day as Y/Ns smile slowly drops, her face quickly turning deadpan “What?” She mumbles out, wanting to make sure she actually heard him correctly.

There is absolutely no way she just heard him correctly.

At the sight of her state, Oscar starts to panic and ramble “I just think that at this stage in our life, it would be best to live our own, individual lives and not be so caught up in each other.” Y/N doesn't say anything as her eyes rapidly start to water, threatening to spill as Oscar continues on, even more flustered

“I mean think about it, we haven't even actually been truly happy in a while!” Oscar exclaims still in panic. This last sentence causes all the tears to start coming out as Y/N quickly moves to stand up off his bed, roughly grabbing her backpack as she simultaneously wipes her consistently flowing tears.

Oscar quickly stops his overflowing words at the sight of the girl he loves grabbing all her loose items around his room, sobbing quietly, the weight of his actions now weighing on him. 

The room is silent besides the clattering sound of Y/N picking up her stuff and Y/Ns muffled cries

“Y/N” Oscar mumbles out, she lets out another sob, standing still for a second as she turns even farther away from him, almost as if she were waiting for him to continue on. Oscar noticing her pause, takes the hint “Y/N, I’m sorry.”

She lets out a watery scoff at Oscar's weak apology, turning around and glaring at him slightly as she asks “You're sorry? You're breaking up with me. But you're sorry?”

Oscar can feel his heart breaking at the tone of her voice, all he can do in this situation is nod at the crying girl mumbling back “I am”

You stare at him for a couple of seconds more, tears still falling as you let out a short breath, shaking your head “God, Three years Oscar! Three years we’ve been together,  literally through everything, and now all this” Y/N gestures wildly with her hands between the two “because you want to try new experiences.”

As Y/N finishes her emotional tangent Oscar can’t help but just stand and stare at her. This is so different to him, so… not them.

Oscar nods his head ever so slightly again, shrugging along with it, tired of having to constantly explain everything. Y/N stares at him for a little bit longer, almost as if she's taking in all his last details as if she’ll never see him again. 

After about a minute Y/N lets out a short sniffle as she moves to grab her backpack from his desk, before turning back around to Oscar

“I hope you have the time of your fucking life.” Y/N states bitterly before walking past him out his bedroom door for the last time. Oscar quickly calls out in a moment of desperation “Y/N/!” But Oscar soon hears his front door slam close and lets out an unexpected breath.

It takes Oscar about three minutes until he decides to move from where he's standing.

At least that's how much time he thinks he was frozen, he wasn’t really paying too close attention, his mind was somewhere else. Oscar couldn't decide what he was currently feeling.

On one side, he was relieved, he felt like a weight had honestly been lifted off his shoulder.

But on the other side, Oscar was convinced he just lost the love of his life. 

Oscar finally made the move to sit down opting for his favorite spot, the edge of the bed. As he sat down, he closed his eyes for a second and just breathed.

He felt okay, almost alright, it was a big step, but he was happy he went through with it, this was the first step to feeling better he just knew it. Or at least he thought he knew. Until he opened his eyes and looked to his right and there it was, as it always was, the photobooth photo.

That’s when everything came crashing down on Oscar. 

He was so scared, so unsure of his own future that instead of leaning on the one person who would help him through anything to talk about things, he pushed you away, so far away.

In fact, he didn't push you away, he absolutely obliterated your heart.

You gave him three years, three challenging, yet perfect years, that he would never have changed for the world, and all he did to repay you was make empty promises and stomp on your heart.

Oscar felt like he was going to be sick.

“The worst part was the second she left, I regretted it immediately. I’ve never stopped regretting it actually.” Oscar states as he solemnly looks towards the floor.

Hearing no response, Oscar lifts his head up, raising a brow looking back at Logan and Lando, questioning their silence “What? No “How could you do that to her” or “You're right Oscar she should hate you”?” Oscar offers, still confused and slightly thrown off by their unnatural quietness.

Lando lets out a short chuckle as Logan starts back up “Look Oscar, you guys were kids! Literally, and you spent multiple years growing up together, it's normal to take breaks, and it's normal to make mistakes. I genuinely think if you just tried and talked to her it could actually work out pretty well for you” Logan bargains with Oscar as he looks towards the dancefloor having a clear view shot of her with her friends.

He lets out an unknowing, reflective smile as he sees her newer yet ever-the-same frame dancing around to the song. He looks back to Logan with a small smile on his face, somewhat content that he even got to see her after all this time. Especially looking this well.

“Look Logan… oh and Lando” Oscar off-handily gestures to the latter, Lando quickly bows his hand at the added sentiment

“I appreciate it, but I think our time has just passed. I had a great thing and I threw it away.” Oscar confesses “And while I don’t regret it, because I'm glad I've gotten to take this path in life and meet these people,” Insinuating to the two standing in front of him, which they both coo at, covering their hearts with their hands

“I do miss her.” He finally admits out loud “But hey, that’s life.” Oscar ends his speech with a small shrug in proper Oscar fashion. 

Logan lets out a long “Booo” at Oscar's confession making him chuckle faintly before Lando steps in, bringing up the energy again.

“That’s alright man, we just want you to be happy!” Lando states as he throws an arm around Oscar's shoulder “Thanks, mate.” Oscar gratefully replies “Anything you want, we will understand-” Lando drunkenly and unnecessarily continues on before Logan sharply cuts him off, “I think he's got it, Lando.” Logan pats Landos back.

“And what I want” Oscar starts as he moves out from underneath Lando's arm, “is to go home and study. Alone. By myself. Just me and my playlist” Oscar clarifies to the two making sure they got the hint to which Logan quickly replies

“Yeah yeah, message received, get home safe dork.” He finishes as he ruffles Oscar's hair causing Oscar to let out a scoff and push him away as he replies “You too. Look out for him” He says as he throws his head in the direction of Lando who is already back to dancing before he turns around towards the exit.

Starting his journey through the perimeter of the club, Oscar narrowly avoids many drunk rando encounters, including an almost dangerous spill of some sort of brown liquor, before finally making it to the exit. 

Just as he was about to leave, he heard the familiar tune. Oscar would remember those opening notes from anywhere.

More so Oscar would remember who he was staring at when the notes first actually meant something to him.

This has to be some sort of fate. What are the odds she’s here, at his random college, twenty feet away while their once-called song plays.

This has got to be some kind of sign.

Stopping directly in his tracks at the so-called fateful revelation he just had, Oscar made a quick and easy decision. He briskly turned around in his spot and swiftly made his way back through the bar area of the crowded club, passing all the same strangers from the first time, before eventually coming out on the other side, slightly out of breath.

Who knew navigating through a club was such a workout? 

Oscar immediately spotted Logan and Lando standing on the outer crowd of the dancefloor dancing weirdly, and he booked his way back over to them.

Slightly out of breath Oscar's pants as Logan exclaims towards him in confusion “Oscar? What are you doing here?”

Oscar goes to answer him but is quickly cut off by Lando also questioning “We thought you were going home?”

Rolling his eyes and still breathing hard from the fast walking, Oscar finally lets out a short “It's our song.”

Both of their faces stared back at him, scrunched in confusion, they didn't hear him over the blaring music, Lando obnoxiously yelled out in response “What?”

Oscar rolls his eyes yet again before yelling even louder this time “It’s me and Y/Ns song!”

This causes Lando to immediately gasp “Oh my god!” Lando yells in response as he starts jumping up and down “That has got to be a sign!” He excitedly starts hitting Logan repeatedly before he pushes him off, and starts asking Oscar in a wondering tone

“What do you mean by your guy's song? That’s very old-fashioned and almost out of date don't you think? Very not Oscar thing.” He asks raising his eyebrow, sort of caught off-guard that Oscar participated in something like that before continuing “I mean especially this song?”

Oscar briefly rolls his eyes before backing your guy's relationship up “Yea, Look, I always thought the same thing but she was always really into music and always so set on us finding a song. So I would always recommend some that made me think of her and everything but she always shot them down until one night we were out at a party, and it just clicked. And I got what she meant, every time I hear this song now I feel like I'm kind of transported to that night”

As the song continues playing around him he takes a couple of seconds to remember it clearly. 

FLASHBACK

“Come on Osc, don’t be such a party pooper!” Y/N exclaims towards the boy as she throws her hands in the air.

It was a Saturday night and you two were currently at a random classmate's house party standing closely at the drinks table. Oscar was in the middle of pouring her and him a random mixed drink as she continued to plead and beg at him.

She’s spent the last ten minutes of the party trying to corral Oscar onto the dancefloor with her. She kept claiming to him that she was in serious need of dancing but she refused to go out there alone and he refused to go with her.

While she loved to dance and would do it anywhere, anytime, to any music, Oscar very much was the opposite. He found it awkward and it always made him uncomfortable. For her, he would always try and every once in a while, she could get a little dance out of him, although most times he just avoided the question altogether.

But tonight didn't seem to be one of those nights.

As Oscar holds out the drink handing it to her, sipping on his own, she continues with her tangent “I just don't see why you won't just go out there with me at least for one song! That’s all I'm asking”

She takes the drink from his hand, offering a small thank you as she goes to drink it, her throat burning from the strong taste causing her nose to scrunch up. Oscar smiles a small smile at her before rebutting

“It’s just not my thing Y/N, you know that” He responds ever so nicely causing Y/N to let out a little, sad sigh “I know, I thought I would still at least try” She smiles dimly as she chugs the rest of her drink before smiling at him

“Welp! If you need me, I’ll be on the dance floor” She states, leaning forward to him slightly as she finishes her statement, giggling slightly as he chuckles along with “Alright now, be safe out there” He states watching her make her way to the dance floor.

And that’s where Oscar spends his next five minutes, chilling against a random wall, sipping a way too strong a drink he made as he watches her dancing around with some random girls she just met.

Every once in a while she would look over at him and smile brightly, almost asking if he wanted to join her, to which he'd always do a small head shake and smile back in response. He was perfectly fine by the wall.

That was until the opening chords to Mr. Brightside started.

At first, Oscar rolled his eyes, he honestly couldn't believe that they were whipping out Brightside at this random ass house party. He wasn’t new to this song, he’s heard it plenty of times at parties, but it was never anything special to him.

That was until he saw her lighting up on the dance floor, jumping around at the opening chords, he remembered once before how she told him what this song felt like for her, just pure happiness, and now watching her dance around to it out there, he finally gets what she meant. 

That's when Oscar realizes just how stupid he is for standing, leaning against a damn wall like a loser while his beautiful, amazing girlfriend is out there waiting to have fun with him.

He shakes his head at himself before quickly chugging the rest of his drink, throwing it into the trashcan, and making his way over to her on the dance floor. 

“Mind if I join?” Oscar asks the simple question as he lands right in front of Y/N in the middle of the crowd, once she realizes it is him her face immediately lit up, exclaiming happily

“Oscar! You’re here! Just in time, I love this song” She yells, jumping up and down in front of him as he bops along softly to the song

“Do you really? I never knew.” He states smiling brightly as he watches her dancing around to the song.

What can he say, she and Mr. Brightside go along together really well. 

Just as the pre-chorus was building she excitedly grabbed Oscar’s hands, still dancing around as she sang along to the chorus loudly “Jealousy, turning saints into the sea, swimming through sick lullabies, choking on your alibis” Y/N laughs loudly leaning into Oscar slightly, catching her off guard as he also starts to yell along to the chorus,

“But it's just the price I pay! Destiny is calling me!” He enthusiastically moves his hand as if it is a microphone between the two of them as they both yell out the rest of the chorus

“Open up my eager eyes! Cause I’m Mr. Brightside” Y/N continuously laughs as she continues to dance around with Oscar to the song. 

She's never seen him like this, she wishes she could frame it on her wall and never lose this Oscar, he was perfect.

Staring at him with bright eyes she leans in slightly and yells out to him over the finishing song “Do you know what just happened?” Oscar curiously raises an eyebrow as he continues smiling at her, already enjoying what she's about to say.

“That just became our song” She blushes proudly as she does a little dance, happy that it happened to be Mr. Brightside of all songs.

Oscar laughs softly at her antics as he responds “I guess it did, I think I get it now.” He says as he gives her one last smile before leaning in quickly, pecking her on the lips, and continuing to dance around, both laughing hard.   

 “What a bummer man” Logan responds at the idea of Oscar feeling stuck in this song.

Again, Mr. Brightside of all choices? He did it to himself.

Until Lando abruptly shoves him to the side “No!” He states boldly, grabbing Oscar's shoulders, shaking them slightly as he gives his big speech of the night (this happens every time Lando drinks)

“This is what I call a sign Oscar. A sign from the world that you and this girl were meant to be. Please tell me, what are the odds that you run into Y/N at a random college club, let alone have your guy's song come on?” Silence overtakes the two, neither of them answering

“I'm for real Oscar, tell me the odds?!” Lando shouts shaking him harder, causing Oscar's eyebrows to knit in confusion, drunk Lando has lost him. “Lando, I don't know?” He states shrugging heavily before Landos yells at him again

“Exactly! Who the fuck knows and who the fuck cares! Go talk to the damn girl Oscar and make her fall in love with you again!” Lando finishes his tangent with a one-handed shove to Oscar, pushing him farther towards the dancefloor.

Oscar nods his head slowly feeling actually charged by Lando's speech, surprisingly, he's right.

Who cares, he messed up and he still misses you, why should he let this opportunity pass him when you're right there? Who knows when he’ll see you again? 

“You're right Lando.” Oscar admits “Damn right, I am!” Lando exclaims loudly at Oscar's revelation “Not too much now” Logan states again patting his shoulder and pulling him back slightly. Oscar rolls his eyes at the comment but continues

“I’m going to go find her and talk to her.” Oscar confidently states starting to walk away to the crowd as the two other boys cheer him on before Oscar quickly stops and turns back around to face the boys causing them to let out a series of disappointed, but not surprised ‘ooos’ and ‘awes’.

Oscar smiles sheepishly before clarifying “Or at least just say hi.” Oscar reasons with them, Logan and Lando nod along to that, agreeing with him as they continue to cheer him on, whooping and hollering again as he walks away “You get that girl!” “We’re proud of you Oscar!”   

Oscar chuckles to himself faintly as he makes his way back through the crowd once again, this time on a mission to find Y/N, especially before the song ends.

He thought it would take forever to be honest having to sift through all the people, but it didn't take him long to find her familiar blonde hair and smile.

I guess old habits die hard.

Once he spotted her he quickly made his way through the people, apologizing here and there before finally reaching her. He’s just lucky she had an empty pocket around her in the middle of the crowded club.

Oscar found himself standing directly behind her and after catching his breath for a second, he planned on tapping her shoulder. Well, if only he would just move.

He didn't know what was happening but he was frozen, just like plenty of times before, all his doubts were starting to creep in. He even started to wonder if he should just turn around and leave and he almost did

That was until somebody accidentally shoved the random guy standing right next to him causing him to slightly fall right into Y/N. 

Well, shit. No going back now. 

As soon as Y/N turned around her eyebrows immediately shot up and her mouth dropped open, and after about a second of stuttering she finally got out her question “Oscar?” Confusion and amazement all over her face before Oscar answers

“Y/N.” She immediately in return let out “Oh my god” To which Oscar couldn't help but agree “Oh my god is right”

As if she's double-checking a list of impossible things in her head she asks one last question “And Mr. Brightsides playing?” Oscar winces slightly but plays it off quickly “It is” Oscar responds sheepishly as the song continues to surround them, almost feeling louder now.

Did they turn the sound up in the club, or was it just Oscar? 

After a couple of seconds, maybe minutes of silence Oscar and Y/N accidently speak up at the same time “Hi.” “Hey” The two mumble over each other, unaware of how to go about the unfamiliar awkwardness

“Do you want to step outside?” Y/N asks as Oscar nods his head rapidly and shyly responds “Yeah, that would be nice” She gives him a final nod as well then loosely, takes his wrist in hand, and makes her way, leading the two of them through the busy crowd.

As the two of them walk through the club to get outside, Oscar sees a glimpse of Lando and Logan who happen to be throwing him the biggest smiles he’s ever seen with big thumbs up.

Rolling his eyes, he picks up his speed ever so slightly so they can get away from everyone faster, he hopes she didn’t notice them.

She didn't.

She was too caught up in the fact that she was currently guiding her long-time ex-boyfriend through a club so they could finally talk.

As the two of them finally make it out of the club they just stand there for a couple of seconds, the now very sudden silence filling in all the gaps.

Y/N makes a move and sits on the curb of the sidewalk outside the club, resting her head on her arms that are draped over her legs, taking in the silence outside. This isn't exactly where she imagined her night going.

At the need of wanting to stay close, Oscar swiftly follows her as he moves to sit right next to her on the curb, staring at the building lights that surround them before turning his head to stare at Y/N who was also enjoying the lights.

Oscar can’t help but let out the softest smile at the sight of the same girl he grew up right next to.

Feeling his eyes on her, Y/N turns her head to face him as he's staring at her, ready to start the conversation that's been hanging in the air “Oscar” She starts slowly “Y/N” He responds.

“I didn’t expect to see you here, or ever again really.” She sheepishly admits to him before continuing on “What brings you here tonight?” She asks, wanting to at least start a genuine conversation before she asks him why he broke her heart.

Caught slightly off guard by the casual question, Oscar answers “Uh, well I was actually studying for a big midterm I have coming up but my roommates, Logan and Lando called me here in an emergency.”

This causes Y/Ns face to immediately change from listening to concerned, knitting her eyebrows together, placing her hand softly on Oscar's arm, ready to console “Oh my god are they okay?”

He blushes at the contact before stuttering “Oh yeah they're fine, don’t worry about them. They just didn't want me studying on a weekend, they get weirdly concerned for me.” Oscar embarrassingly admits, making a puzzled face as he confesses his roommate's overbearing protection as Y/N giggles ever so slightly in response.

 “I didn’t know you went here.” She states boldly with slight confusion written all over her face, gesturing to the school campus surrounding them

“I mean I just never heard about it before when we were,... you know.” She awkwardly leads off, as he ineptly chuckles, rubbing his neck and explaining how he landed at this school

“Yeah I just figured I needed something completely new, try something out just for myself.” He finishes as he moves his vision from her to the road in front of them, feeling guilty for how he's sounding right now.

It's reminding him a lot of that night.

There are a couple more beats of silence before she decides to speak up “I get what you mean. That's why I chose this school too, a fresh restart, a chance to grow singularly.” She says with a slight smile

Oscar moves his vision back onto her, and smiles small at her, nodding along with her sentiments as he hears the growth in her letting out the smallest “Yeah.”

Maybe this time it can be different.

There are a couple of more beats of silence when they're just staring at each other before Y/N speaks up and finally asks the question 

“Why did we break up?”

He feels his eyes quickly become glassy at the sound of her frail voice, he looks down quickly at the floor, sniffling before looking back up at her and finally explaining himself

“I got scared. I was being a stupid teenage boy and I threw everything away because I thought that I would find something better out there. I was being selfish and I broke your heart, and I’m so sorry.” Oscar lets out a genuine confession as he watches her face contort to the information.

Eyes watering even more she lets out a small scoff before saying something he wasn't expecting “You weren't being stupid Oscar. And you especially weren't being selfish.”

Finishing with a sniffle, Oscar knits his eyebrows at the sound of this and opens his mouth to say something before Y/N continues

“You did the right thing. You actually did a very brave thing that I would’ve always been too afraid to do. I knew we had issues, and I knew the second I left your room that you were right. We did need time apart to grow individually, it fucking sucked, but you made the right call.” Y/N admits as she looks upon him with a small, sad smile

“I just wish you would have talked about it with me and we could have made the decision together but hey, it seemed to work out well for the two of us” She finishes with a watery laugh as he nods along.

“I know, I should have, and I'm sorry I didn't. I don't know why I felt like I had to do everything by myself. But you're right, it seemed to turn out well for us.” Oscar states

“That it did” She repeats back to him smiling softly at him as she leans back against her arms resting on her legs

Oscar smiles back as he looks down at her, he speaks again quietly, almost in a whisper “I’m sorry again, you didn't deserve that, I regret it every day knowing that I made you upset like that”

Y/N takes in his genuine face, eyes flitting all around before smiling small and responding with a “Thank you, Oscar, I appreciate it”

He just continues to smile at her in response for a little before turning his head back to building lights, soaking in the silence he gets to spend just sitting here with her.

After a couple more minutes Oscar turns back to her to find Y/N fighting to keep her eyes open as she stares around her. This causes Oscar to let out a small chuckle as he asks her

“Should I uh, walk you back to your dorm” This causes Y/N to close her eyes, nodding sleepily as she responds to his offer “That would actually be great, thank you”

He chuckles at her state as he stands up before sticking his hands out to Y/N to help her stand up which she easily obliges before asking her

“So where do you live?”     

[loveshotzz]

I guess it’s never really over

mechanic!steve harrington x fem!reader exes to lovers

chapter three -

This has got to be the longest crush ever

Robin’s bad date, and a late night that changes everything.

warnings: 18+ A little bit of queer and mid twenties crisis angst for Robin, with comfort obvi. Tension, but are we surprised at this point?, and a secret third thing, wonder what it could be? 😚

wc: 6.3k

authors note: Hi babies! I am taking just a week off from my posting schedule for this week long work trip I’m taking on Monday. There’s lots of conferences and I won’t have much down time. We will resume our normal posting schedule for chapter four starting 3/20 🌻🧡

series masterlist | series playlist

June -

Would you believe me if I said I’m in love? 

                            Baby, I want you to want me.

You can’t believe you landed yourself in detention.

All your late night study sessions for the SAT’s that led to oversleeping and missed alarms finally catching up to you just like Robin warned you it would. Miss O’Donnell is the one who makes your best friend's predictions come true, handing you that notorious pink slip for walking into her class ten minutes late for the third time this week. 

When you arrive at exactly 3:15, the classroom is mostly empty. Your eyes scan the bored faces of the few students joining you, hoping to at least see Eddie’s familiar head of curls. But of course, today of all days, he’s managed to be on his best behavior or just didn’t get caught. 

Sighing defeated, you give Mr. Clark a tight lipped smile, ignoring the shocked look on his face seeing you in here. Picking an empty desk in the middle away from anyone, you decide to busy yourself with the Algebra homework you’ve been avoiding for the better half of a week. It’s when you lean over to unzip your backpack that you catch the sounds of sneakers squeaking against the ceramic floors.

”Ahh, Mr. Harrington. Even fashionably late to detention, I see. Your hair looks good enough to sit in silence for an hour and a half to me.” Mr. Clark announces the king of Hawkins's grand entrance with the kind of sarcasm that makes you smirk as you start arranging your things on your desk.

“That’s good to know 'cause I was doing it for you Mr. C.”

Steve Harrington always thinks he’s so charming

Snorting as you click your pen, you dare to look up only to catch ‘the hair’ looking right back at you with that golden smile that you’ve seen take even the strongest soldiers out. 

Oh no. 

Eyes going big, you quickly bring your attention back down to your homework, silently hoping he doesn’t take the seat next to you and land you in here next week too. 

“So thoughtful of you. Now why don’t you take a seat and do some studying for that test on Monday. And maybe this semester you won’t have to worry about relying on extra credit to keep playing basketball.” Mr. Clark dismisses him, earning a low whistle from the boy who holds his hands up in surrender, Nike covered feet coming down your row.

No, no, no, NO.

You still don’t look up, rereading the same question over and over again because no matter how many times you try, you’re too distracted by the cedar and clove that invades your senses kicking them into overdrive. The whites of his sneakers catch in your peripherals when he does the unimaginable and sits next to you.

Staring at the equation with the kind of concentration that’ll be sure to give you a migraine later, it takes him a good thirty seconds before he temporarily gives up trying to get your attention to grab something that gives the illusion of studying out of his backpack. 

Trying to play it cool, your stomach twists in nervous knots worse than the ones you get when Robin forces you on the janky rides at the summer fair every year. Sure, you’ve been hit on by a guy here and there, but no one can prepare you for what it’s like to catch Steve Harrington’s attention—especially for someone in your Hawkins hierarchy who would never be on the receiving end of it.

He flips through the pages of his textbook loudly, earning his first warning glare from Mr. Clark, and you decide to write your name on the top of the page so at least it looks like you’re doing something. After a couple bounces of your knee, you can feel the heat of his gaze back on you.

”Psst, hey.” 

The last letter of your name comes out illegible, and you jump at the hushed sound of his voice. Taking a deep breath, you work up the courage to meet his flirtatious smirk and golden brown eyes. The sun leaking through the windows gives you a glimpse of the green that hides inside them from this close. You hate to admit that he’s just as pretty as everyone says he is.

”Hi,” you smile a little shy, offering a small wave of your pen and it lights up his whole face, making your body buzz.

”You have a highlighter I can use or something?” He keeps up his ruse, the whites of his teeth showing in a grin.

You arch an eyebrow at him, something sarcastic reminiscent of Mr. Clark flashing behind your eyes. 

“What? You don’t think I’m actually going to study?” He acts shocked, slapping his giant hand across his chest and it earns the kind of giggle from you that pushes him full steam ahead.

”It’s blue, is that okay?” Giving into the bait, you try and hide the way your face warms, ducking down to dig in the bottom of your backpack.

”Are you kidding? I love blue. Favorite color actually.” Laying it on thick, you can see the way he scoots to the edge of his seat, the spice of his cologne making you bite at your bottom lip as your fingers wrap around what you’re looking for.

Sitting up in your seat, you aren’t expecting him to be so close and it threatens to steal the air right out of your lungs.

”H-here,” you manage, holding the blue writing utensil in the small space that's left between you.

Steve's eyes roam your face freely, pink tongue coming out to wet his full bottom lip before they settle back on your gaze, lids a little heavy, voice low and somehow sticky sweet.

”Thanks, honey.” He leans forward more, purposely brushing his fingers with yours when he takes it out of your grasp, “but now, I’m afraid the only way you’re gonna get it back is to let me drive you home after this.”

“I’ve got plenty, you can keep that one,” you try to stay strong, but when that second giggle slips out, you seal your fate.

”I can’t do that, this is your favorite one.” He tisks like it’s the craziest thing he’s ever heard, with a crooked grin that makes you bite the inside of your cheek.

”Is it?”

”Absolutely.”

“Are you two done? Or should we schedule a second date for next week?” Mr. Clark interrupts.

”That would actually be date number three. We’re going on two after this is over.” Steve smirks, throwing you a wink ignoring the harsh way you whisper of his name. 

Yeah… you were fucked.

“I’ve got a date tonight!” 

Robin sings excitedly, bursting through the front door in a wild ball of energy, successfully waking you up from your nap on the couch. Blinking slowly, as you start to recognize your surroundings, rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you force yourself to sit up, wincing at your stiff neck and the fact that you dreamed about Steve Harrington again. 

“A date with who?” You grumble, still a little grouchy, yawning with a stretch that pops in your back.

”This girl that I met at the record store this morning, we talked about Tracy Chapman and Tori Amos for what felt like hours. She’s just, wow, she’s so cool. Almost too cool for me, you know? She’s a senior in college-“

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold up.” Cutting her off before she can ramble any longer, you wave your hands for her to stop: “First of all, no one is too cool for you, okay? If anything, it’s always going to be the other way around.”

“Yeah, okay, Steve.”

It takes a minute for her words to sink in about the man you haven’t seen in almost a week and a half, but when they do, the glare that settles on your face makes her laugh. 

“Ha ha, very funny.” You deadpan with a tight-lipped smirk, before clearing your throat, “Well where are you guys going? Do you want me to go undercover in case you need saving? I’m fully prepared for a stakeout.”

Robin rolls her eyes, but her smile, which spreads wide enough to see all her teeth, gives away her love for your dramatics. 

“No, I don’t need you to go undercover or anything. I mean, it is going to be nice knowing you’ll be here waiting for me to tell you all about it instead of having to call you and hope the city girl answers.” She teases, earning the scoff from you that she was looking for.

“I’m choosing to ignore that, and if at any point you change your mind, you know your own number.”

Earning a genuine laugh from Robin always makes your soul feel lighter, so when your joke lands and you get one, the heaviness of Steve that’s been weighing down on your shoulders eases up just a little bit.

”I’ve just never been approached in public before like that, you know? It’s not just the other girl you know is gay on campus. I don’t know, it feels good.” Your best friend’s confession makes you want to wrap her up in a hug, keeping the urge to remind her of your offer to move to the city with you to yourself for right now, letting her bask in the moment.

”Well, you're hot. Can you blame her? If you weren’t basically like a sister to me, I’d be all over it.” Wiggling your eyebrows, she flips you off, but you still catch the tinge of pink that paints her cheeks rosy.

”Please, Steve would have my head on a stake.” She snorts, purposely trying to get under your skin now.

”Robin.”

”What? I thought he was going to pop a blood vessel in his eye when I mentioned your little ‘adventure’ last week” She giggles, heading towards her bedroom.

If only she knew just how much those words were true. Your thighs meet like in the memory you can’t stop playing on a loop, palms turning sweaty, remembering the velvet of his lips so close to your neck.

”Wait! Did you ask that on purpose?!” You gasp, jumping to your feet to follow her.

”Maybe.”

”Maybe?!”

”You know what I do need help with?” She ignores you, spinning on her heel to meet your narrowed eyes.

”What?”

”Help me pick any outfit?” Pushing out her bottom lip, she gives you the kind of puppy dog eyes that no one in their right mind could say no to.

Sighing heavily, your feet drag on the carpet before flopping yourself onto her bed huffing out a “Fine” as the box springs squeak.

The rest of the day is spent going through what feels like every outfit in Robin’s possession, even getting desperate enough to try on some of your clothes despite your clashing styles. Settling on a pair of boot cut jeans, a black half crop top with a flannel shirt that you’re pretty sure she stole from Steve and the Dr. Martin’s you got her for her birthday last year, she was ready to break hearts. Blue eyes roll in the back of her head when you make her say ‘I’m the prize’ until you feel like she halfway believes it before handing over her I.D. that you’d found stuffed between the cushions of the couch in a frenzied panic to search for it only ten minutes prior.

The sun starts to set on Robin’s small apartment after she finally heads out the door, and the shadows that bounce off the white walls bring back the thoughts of Steve you’d successfully gotten rid of for a few fleeting hours. 

Huffing to yourself with crossed arms, you watch the flat bag of popcorn spin around in the microwave. You can still hear the beginning Moonstruck playing on the TV in the living room, over the loud hum of the machine. Comfortable in an oversized shirt that lands just at the bottoms of your cotton sleep shorts, goosebump dot across your legs from the cool of the A/C. Your skin still tingles everywhere he touched and the week of radio silence feels worse the second time around. 

The shrill sound of Robin’s phone and the first kernel of popcorn exploding in the bag overpower your ears all at once, making you jump. Mumbling cuss words under the now constant sound of popping, you try to calm your heart rate down, wandering to the living room. Your hand hovers over the phone, the realization about who might be on the other line making your stomach drop. He hadn’t called Robin yet. There’s a moment of hesitation, but you take a deep breath, letting the air expand in your lungs, silently counting to three before you grab the phone off its hook.

”Buckley residen-“

”I need you to come get me, I- I’ve made a huge mistake and I’m just so fuck - “ Robin cuts you off, the rasp in her voice cracking like she’s trying not to cry, “I’m just really embarrassed, please come get me.”

“What happened? Where are you? I’m coming, just - just tell me where you are.” Running to her bedroom to grab your sneakers with the phone pressed to your ear, you can hear her sniffle.

”Benningans, it’s the next town over. I’ll be outside -“

”Are you safe?” You panic, slipping your foot into your shoe as quickly as you can.

”I’m safe, I’m just, I’m embar- I don’t want to talk about it right now. I’m safe, I’ll be outside.” She mutters.

”I’ll get there as fast as I can, okay?” Feeling a little helpless, you try to ease the hurt that’s evident in her tone with soft reassurance. 

”I’m just, I’m really glad you're here. I’ll see you soon.” She manages to get out before the line clicks dead.

Slipping your second shoe on, the realization that you don’t actually have a car to save her with, hits you like a ton of bricks. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Stomping back to the living room, your eyes find the mustard yellow address book next to the phone’s dock. Your fingers fumble through its pages, eyes squinting as you try to read Robin’s messy writing, searching for a familiar name. You find two:

Eddie and Steve.

You stare at the page, your moral compass going haywire. Despite the way he’s rented a space in your mind, the thought of seeing him alone again makes your stomach twist. Eddie would be simple. Eddie would be easy. Your thumb hovers over the first number in the one she has scribbled down for him, but no matter how hard you try, you can’t bring yourself to press it. She needs Steve.

You groan loudly, stomping your foot for good measure, before letting out a long breath through your nose, dialing his number that you knew you should have all along. 

It only rings twice.

“Whatever it is, the answer is no,” Steve deadpans.

”Is that really how you answer your phone?” You scoff, doing your best to ignore the butterflies you’ve managed to stifle as they start to come alive at the sound of his voice.

“I thought this was - shit, I thought this was Henderson - erm I mean Dustin, you remember Dustin?” He stammers and you know that hand of his is running through his hair right now.

“Yeah, the middle schooler.”

“Well, he’s like nineteen now -“

“I didn’t call you to talk about Dustin, Steve,” You sigh heavily, rubbing the bridge of your nose, “Robin called me really upset from Bennigans, and I don’t have a car or any way to go get her-” 

“I’m on my way.” He cuts you off without any hesitation,“Be outside in five minutes for me?”

”My shoes are already on.”  

After a click, you’re left with the sound of the dial tone in your ear. You hang up the phone as warmth floods your body, easing some of your temporary worries. 

Steve Harrington is making it hard to hate him.

The short walk to Steve’s BMW from Robin’s front door feels like stepping through a time machine.

One that takes you back to late nights sneaking out your bedroom window, always being extra careful not to wake your parents up so you could go make out with your secret kind of boyfriend under the stars. Those were always your favorite nights with him. The nights he’d put away the king Steve armor, those nights he’d just be Steve. A boy who just wanted to make his father proud, thinking maybe he’d stay home more if he was.

You can feel the way his eyes roam your body, the heat of his stare lingering on your exposed legs, setting your skin on fire. Suddenly more than aware of your lack of pants, only part of you regrets not changing into some leggings, but you try not to think about that too hard right now.

He clears his throat when you open the passenger door, the smell of leather and the dark woody sweet scent of oil surrounding you as you slide into your seat. The spice of his cologne tickles your nose when you close yourself in, clicking your seatbelt in place before daring to meet his eyes. The golden brown inside them shimmers with something you’d missed in the orange glow of the street light and the nerves still feel the same way they did five years ago. The only thing that hasn’t changed.

”Thanks for doing this,” you offer with a weak smile.

When he realizes you’ve put your weapons down for the night, his face softens with a crooked grin, subtle pink dusting the apples of his cheeks.

”I meant it when I said I can’t say no to you,” he starts, selfishly letting his eyes roam the smooth lines of your face that are finally not twisted up into a glare before realizing his slip up, “and Robin, my best friend obviously.”

”Our best friend, Steve.” You tease trying to ignore the tension that crackles in the empty space between you even worse than before.

”Whatever you have to tell yourself,” he winks, forearm flexing as he puts the car in drive.

Scoffing a ‘whatever’ with a playful roll of your eyes, you let your muscles relax into the familiar seat. The Police’s Every Breath You Take spills through the speakers just loud enough to be heard over the low rumble of the engine, and you become hyper aware of his hand resting on the stick shift, the tips of his fingers just close enough to brush against your thigh every time you hit a bump. 

There’s a silence that falls between you once the street lights run out and his full focus shifts to the pitch black road ahead. The quiet is filled with what almost happened in his room, unspoken words that don’t dare to roll off of sober tongues. You wait until he’s too distracted looking for surprises that might run out from the woods on either side of you to let your eyes wander over and really take him in.

A white drawstring hangs low on his heather gray sweatpants that fit tight over his thighs spread wide. Your throat goes dry at the white tank top that hugs his broad chest, the gold chain that wraps around his neck getting lost in the thick patch of curls on display. You’re finally able to really make out more of his tattoo for the first time, thin, precise lines that look like feathers attached to a set of sparrow wings.

”Did she tell you what happened? I mean, is she safe?” He interrupts your greedy stare, eyes lighting up when he catches you, tucking it away for another time.

”Uhh, yeah,” you answer with a shake of your head, teeth biting down on your bottom lip with hot cheeks, “she’s safe, she kept saying she’s embarrassed but wouldn’t tell me why, just kept begging me to come get her.”

He just hums, lost deep in thought of all the things it could be, and his grip on the steering wheel tightens with worry. 

“We’re only ten minutes away, so it won’t be too much longer now.” 

He reassures you, but it feels like he needs it too, especially when his hand leaves the stick shift to run through his hair that looks more tousled than usual, making you wonder if he was lying in bed before this. A worried breath exhales through his nose, with a tight jaw, and you hate the way your stomach drops when both his hands find the steering wheel after he tugs on his roots a little bit. 

Nervous fingers play with the bottoms of your sleep shorts, trying your best not to stare while you keep your gaze out the passenger window. Stolen glances are followed by tight lipped smiles when you’d always find him staring back. Honey and chestnut make your stomach flutter, and you think maybe some things never change. 

It takes less than the ten minutes that Steve promised for the back roads to turn busy, and bright with the kind of lights a small town on a Saturday night has. A slouched frame sitting on the side of the road catches in his headlights, getting closer you see that Robin’s waves have lost all the bounce she left the house with, along with the rosy tint in her cheeks. The flashing Bennigans sign spins a block behind her, and the orange bulbs match the burning ember on the end of her cigarette that dangles from her full lips. 

“Shit, it’s bad if she’s smoking,” Steve mutters, turning on his hazards as he pulls up next to her, the wheels of his car coming to a stop. 

She hollows her cheeks out, taking one last drag, waving at you to stop unbuckling your seat belt as she gets to her feet. Blowing the smoke from her lungs into the wind, she flicks the half smoked butt into the street before opening the back door, sliding into the leather seats with an exasperated huff.

“Just, don’t – I’m okay,” she starts, closing the door and shutting out the whir of the traffic outside. “Turns out her boyfriend’s best friend really likes Tracy Chapman and Tori Amos too. She really thought me and him might hit it off after our talk at the record store today. I don’t want to talk about it, I just want to go home with my two favorite people and feel sorry for myself.”

“Well, you’re in luck,” Steve doesn’t miss a beat. Turning around in his seat, he flashes her his million-dollar Harrington smile. “I’m the king of feeling sorry for myself.”

Her lips twitch, but when she sees the natural roll of your eyes at the boy next to you, it turns into a full blown smile. A little shimmer came through in the dulled-out color of her eyes.

Got me up all night

            all I’m singing is love songs.

“Honestly, now that I’m thinking about it, this girl sounds like a scammer, Rob. I mean, come on.” Steve snorts, rifling through her cupboards in the kitchen. Tracy Chapman and Tori Amos, what kind of game was she playing at anyway?”

Robin giggles from her place next to you on the couch, her head resting on your shoulder, the green apple of her shampoo still lingering on her curls that tickle your cheek. 

“Plenty of people like those artists, Steve.” She sighs, but you can still hear her smile, “It’s fine, I’ll just stay the lonely Hawkins lesbian for the rest of my life, no big deal.”

”Shut up!”

”Will you stop?!”

You and Steve chide her at the same time, hard eyes meeting from across the living room and softening. He doesn’t even try to stop the lopsided grin that pushes up your favorite cheek and you hope Robin doesn’t feel the way it makes your skin warm. 

“Whatever, I already warned you I’m going to be miserable. Gimmie a break, and you’re actually taking forever in there, by the way.” Whining, she sits up, sending a rush of fruit and leftover tobacco to your nose.

“Yeah, well, I can’t find your peanut butter,” he mutters, opening up the cabinet above the sink, the bottom of his tank top rising enough to see a sliver of sun kissed skin and a few more freckles. Why does it feel like there's always more?

”What are you even making anyway?” you ask, ignoring the way Robin’s head whips around. A smirk spreads wide across her face because you’re actually trying to make conversation with Steve.

“Just a little something that’s going to cure my best friend’s heartbreak,” he winks, the jar of JIF extra crunchy looking extra small in his grasp, twisting the cap off. “We came up with it together, actually.o biggie.”

Your gaze narrows, but he doesn’t miss the way the corners of your mouth twitch, something sparkling inside the dark gold in his eyes.

”Interesting, considering I ran to the store earlier to grab my best friend’s favorite ice cream, just in case.” You counter, something mischievous twisting up your lips. “You didn’t even think to stop and get it on our way home. Some friend.”

Robin’s smile lights up the room, very obviously enjoying the show, maybe even a little too much. Clapping her hands together, she lets out a content sigh before leaning back into the couch cushions.

”I really could get used to this,” she beams, “maybe we should have a contest, see which one of you can do the nicest things for me.”

You can’t stop the snort or the roll of your eyes that has Steve throwing his head back in a fully-bellied laugh, giving you the perfect view of his neck, and only Robin clocks the way your giggles are cut short and the secret way your eyes glaze over.

”I’m not gonna lie as much as I love crunchy peanut butter banana s’mores, I have to say Steve, the fact that she actually called you makes her the winner for the night.” She smirks, chuckling harder when you shove her with a hushed ‘Robin!’

His smile doesn’t fade as he starts to cut banana slices. Big eyes meet yours with the kind of look that threatens to melt you into the couch.

”That’s alright, I’ll be a gracious loser tonight, but just know, honey, I’m very competitive.” He warns, long fingers spreading the fruit evenly throughout the peanut butter that messily coats graham crackers.  

“I don’t like to lose, so it’s fine.” Your quick reply deepens the smile lines in his cheeks, putting the finishing touches on your snacks.

“Yeah, this is definitely the life I was meant to live,” Robin gloats, nudging you, “I’m the prize, right?”

It’s your turn to throw your head back in the kind of laugh that rattles in your rib cage, too distracted to see the lovesick way Steve bites his bottom lip watching you from across the room.

But Robin does.

With a heart so full it might burst, tears threaten to spill from the ocean in her eyes, daydreaming about moments like this, only ever thinking they would be something that stayed trapped in the confines of her mind. The warming feeling of happiness wraps around Robin like a blanket when she gets to sit between you both on the couch. A distant friend she hasn’t seen in a long time, a secret she’s kept mostly to herself. 

With a messy plate of half eaten treats and sticky fingers, she’s content watching Cher and Nicholas Cage fight over how much they love each other. Fully knowing that Steve is sneaking looks at you from over her head, smiling to herself at the nervous way you fiddle with your hands in your lap because of it.

Robin doesn’t fight the exhaustion that starts to make her eyelids heavy just a little halfway through the movie. It’s easy to give in when your body weight relaxes deeper into her side, and how Steve drapes his arm over the back of the couch, tucking you both into his chest with evening breaths.

You’re warm, cozier than normal, and it surrounds every part of you.

Cheek pressed against something that’s not firm enough to be the couch, you nuzzle yourself deeper, chasing the heat and the sleep that’s threatening to evade you. Your cushion starts to move, making eyes shift behind lids that aren’t ready to open yet. Lashes flutter, feeling the way your leg is slotted between someone else’s, and the warmth of a palm finds the small of your back, pulling you closer.

A deep sigh rumbles in your ear before fingertips lazily trace up and down the dip of your spine. Stubble tickles your forehead, and as coherency starts to come back to you, a softer patch of hair rubs against your cheek. The kind of spice and lingering sunshine that could only come from one person hits your senses, and the white cotton of Steve’s tank top finally becomes visible. 

The shift in your breathing brings his soft touches to a halt, the muscles you’re pressed on your side against stiffening. Realizing your hands are sprawled across his chest, just under your chin, you can feel the way his heart races under your palm. He’s everywhere, and despite the way you’ve told yourself you hate him, your fingers curl into the cotton of his shirt because it feels like home. Toes pressing into his calf, you wind your leg around his tighter, and it turns timid fingertips sure of themselves, tracing patterns between your shoulder blades. You don’t dare look up at him yet, or it would make the way your own hand starts to explore his abs that twitch under your red nails real. 

He feels different than you remember, there's more of him now, harder in spots that used to be soft. Your fingers get greedy, the blunt ends of your nails scratching along the outline of his happy trail, earning a low groan from him that vibrates deep in your core. Those butterflies that have made a permanent home out of you start to stretch their wings, and when they feel the soft velvet of his lips against your forehead, they tickle at your ribcage and kick up your heart rate. You wonder if he can feel it.

It’s the faintest kiss, one that you’re not sure you would’ve even felt if you were asleep, but it makes you lean in closer. Inhaling deeply, tears sting at the corner of your eyes when the familiar scent only makes you crave him more. After years spent denying the existence of his touch from your memory, it’s almost overwhelming to feel it again. 

The muscles in his arm underneath your neck twitch, and the fingers that have been drawing lazy circles on your back move slowly up your shoulder. The backs of them run down your arm before they finally connect with your skin, goosebumps exploding underneath his touch in a ball of electricity that you can feel on the pads of them that start a new path up the loose sleeve of your shirt.

You fiddle with the bottom hem of his tank top, the heat of his body radiating against already flushed skin. Brave fingers dare to dip underneath only to get stopped by a large palm wrapping around your wrist 

“Baby,” there's a hint of a smile and a little bit of grogginess in his voice that gives away that he hasn’t been awake that much longer than you, “I think you should at least look at me before I let you get under my shirt.”

Biting at your bottom lip, you push yourself deeper into his chest, embarrassed, feeling the gentle shake of his body when he laughs. 

“Come on pretty, let me see your face.”

His affection makes your heart swell, and you know what it means if you look him in the eyes. Your nails dig into the cotton, tugging at the fabric a little while you pull yourself together, lashes fluttering against your cheeks, shaking the rest of the sleep. Lifting your head up from its hiding place, you cross the line you promised yourself you wouldn’t, but when you meet the green that shimmers in the darkness of his eyes, and the crooked grin that twists up his full pink lips, it feels good to give in.

Releasing the hold on your wrist, he’s gentle, almost hesitant, when his warm palm cups your cheek. The rough pad of his thumb traces the line of your cheekbone feather light, and you can’t help but lean into his touch. No more armor, fleeting glances, or stolen looks, not when he’s this close and even more handsome in the glow of the moonlight. 

“Beautiful.” He murmurs just loud enough for you to hear, and your legs somehow wrap around his tighter.

”Yeah?” you whisper, your fingers coming up to the play with the gold chain dangling from his neck. “Why didn’t you kiss me then?”

”What?”

”Last week,” 

”That wasn’t the right time,” he sighs, eyes tracing every line of your face like he’s committing it to memory, “It would have ruined it.”

“Ruined what?” You press, twisting the metal between your fingertips, heartbeat ringing in your ears.

“My chance at trying to do this the right way, the way you deserve.” He doesn’t hesitate to say it, like it’s something he’s thought about for years, and it makes your head spin.

“What about now?” 

“That depends,” he hums, the pad of his thumb dragging across the slight pout of your bottom lip, threatening to steal the air from your lungs.

”On?” Your voice comes out just above a whisper. Tilting your chin up, you can still smell the peanut butter on his breath.

”If you want me to.”  He breathes, the tip of his nose running along the length of yours. 

Your hold on his gold chain tightens, pulling him even closer. His eyebrows pinch together when he feels the slightest brush of your lips against his, and he can still taste the sweetness of the banana.

”Please tell me you want me to.” 

The desperation in his voice is enough for you to tug him down, closing what’s left of the small gap, your top lip catching against his full bottom one. Just enough to feel the familiar silk that could leave a wildfire in their wake before you finally speak.

“Kiss me, Steve.”

A groan rattles deep in his chest, and he doesn’t hesitate to do what he’s wanted to since he saw you. Applying just enough pressure to wake up every last butterfly, the tip of his nose pushes into your cheek when he slots his lips with yours. It’s soft at first like he’s testing the waters, taking it slow so he can savor it, just in case you never let him do it again.

He pulls away enough to look at you, chestnut eyes blown out wide, and you hate that you already miss his kiss. Giving into everything you’ve fought for so long, it’s your turn to capture his lips. It stuns him at first, but when you open your mouth, his body melts easily into yours, and that big hand of his moves from your cheek to hold the back of your neck. Tongue swiping boldly across your lower lip, he begs you to let him in.

Moans get hidden, muffled inside each other's mouths after you grant him access, your fingers tangle themselves inside the thick forest of his hair that’s still just as soft as you remember. Nipping at his bottom lip, the grip on the back of your neck tightens and you can feel the way he kicks up in his sweats because of it. Your own thighs threatening close when you’re reminded of what’s between his legs.

“Baby,” he warns in between kisses, feeling the roll of your hips, but you don’t miss the subtle way he tries to meet them with his own.

It’s too easy to get lost in him, and the years it took to move past him make even more sense when your tongue finds his again. Fighting for dominance, you try not to think about the irreversible damage tonight might do to you as you tug at his roots, teeth scraping together, the kiss turns more heated by the second. Years of anger and longing come out in desperate touches. His hand finds its way to your hip, the pads of his fingers brushing against the skin under your shirt, sending a shiver up your spine, letting you roll them one, two, three times before tightening his hold.

He pulls you closer, letting you win before his nose nudges against your cheek, his lips finding the corner of your mouth. Catching his breath, he trails them along your jaw before making his way down your neck. Your chest heaves, fingers turning soft and slowly running through his hair. He hums against your skin, his hand staying under your shirt, the warmth of his palm covering the small of your back, leaving wet kisses on the sensitive spot behind your ear.

”Let me take you on a date,” he whispers, leaving one more under his jaw before pulling back to look at you.

”Steve -“

”Just one,” he begs, bumping his nose with yours, smirking when it makes you smile.

”Let me sleep on it,” you sigh, ducking your head under his chin to hide. Too many thoughts trying to occupy space in your mind with a head still dizzy from his lips.

”I’ll take what I can get,” he laughs, the tips of his fingers starting up the familiar patterns that started all of this, quickly make your eyelids heavy, nuzzling deeper into his chest. You weren’t ready to think about tomorrow yet.

🌻 chapter four

[callalillywrites]

Happy Birthday, Bucky

It took a bit to get through my writer's block, but here's the next square I promised for Bucky's Birthday Bingo (hosted by @avengers-assemble-bingo). We're finally getting Childhood Best Friends to Lovers with a side of Firefighter!Bucky Barnes from my Station #107 AU.

A little over a week late for Bucky's actual birthday, but better late than never, right?

Bucky Barnes Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Pairing: Firefighter!Bucky Barnes x Childhood Best Friend!Reader

Other characters: Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson, Natasha Romanoff, Clint Barton, and Tony Stark

Summary: Only one person seems to have remembered it's Bucky's birthday, and that's you. Bucky would give anything to have you there with him. Lucky for him, his wish might just come true in more ways than one.

Word Count: ~2000

Warnings: some slight brooding on Bucky's part; lots of pining (Bucky); some thoughts of birthday being forgotten; Bucky POV; some teasing; lots of fluff

A/N: Well, here's the debut for Firefighter!Bucky within my Station #107 AU. While I wrote this in Bucky's POV, I'd love to revisit this one day and give us a glimpse of Reader's POV. If there's enough interest, that is.

I do not give permission to have my works copied, translated, reposted, or fed into an AI machine.

****

The tiny smile refused to leave Bucky's face as he read your message again.

It might've been a simple wish for him to have a happy birthday, but he couldn't help how his heart raced at the fact you remembered. Not that he was truly surprised you did remember. You've never forgotten in all the years you'd known each other, but this year, it seemed like everyone else had forgotten.

Even Steve.

To be fair, Steve had run off earlier that morning to take care of some unexpected errands, already planning to make up his hours with the other shift.

But still, his best friend (well, other best friend because he had you, too) could've said something before he'd left.

Maybe that's the reason why your message meant so much to him.

He couldn't for the life of him understand why all his friends and co-workers seemed hell-bent on not remembering. Sure, it was just another day on the job, but that didn't mean he didn't want to be remembered in some way. Hell, they even had a calendar with everyone's birthdays written on it.

Though, he had to admit he couldn't explain why his name had been erased from the day. He could've sworn he'd written it down. And in ink, to boot. Yet, here he was without anyone acknowledging the day, and their shift would be ending soon.

Before he could stop himself, he typed, When are we seeing you again? Miss ya.

Soon, you typed back almost immediately.

Not exactly satisfied with your answer, Bucky also recognized you had a busy schedule. Not only were you working towards your master's in actuarial science, but you also had a full-time job. This didn't include your other friends and whatever social life you managed to find in the spare minutes of your day. For reasons he refused to analyze, he shut that train of thought down immediately. It wasn't his business if you dated others though his heart had other ideas on that matter.

"Hey, Buck, we gotta go. Another call to the Tower," Nat called out, her steps rushing towards their gear station. "Supposed to be a big one this time."

"Not again," he mumbled under his breath.

The calls to Stark Tower weren't uncommon for their station. In fact, it's one of the reasons why a lot of the firefighters who worked at Station #107 lived in Stark Tower at a steep discount. It's the only way they could guarantee fast arrival to handle any of the many disasters that one billionaire genius could possibly pull off.

Thankfully, these routine calls to the Tower had become so ingrained. It didn't take them no time at all to get everyone geared and onboard their truck.

"Steve's meeting us there," Nat said, taking the seat next to Bucky. Clint had already claimed shotgun that morning after Steve ducked out, daring anyone to try and take it from him.

Sam grinned from behind the wheel. "Can't wait to see what that man has done this time."

"Only you would be excited about that, Samuel," Nat shot back before sending Bucky a wink. Her typical smirk disappeared after a moment as she leaned in with a slight frown on her features. "You okay? You're not your typical cheerful self."

His tongue burned with the desire to unleash his disappointment, but he bit it back in the end. Instead, he settled for a small shake of his head. "Just tired, I guess. Hard to sleep with these loud mouth-breathers at night."

"Excuse you," both Sam and Clint exclaimed together though Clint added, "I'm a delight to sleep with. Just ask my wife."

"Ah yes, her ear plugs really help keep that love alive," Nat said which earned her another glare for her efforts.

Their playful banter continued, but Bucky had since tuned it out. His gaze settled on the passing storefronts along the few blocks they had to travel to reach the Tower. It never failed to soothe him as they traversed the same streets he grew up playing on, even if he did spend most of his time in Brooklyn in his younger years.

Him, Steve, and you.

The hours you three would spend getting into and out of trouble. Those were probably some of the best times of his life, and he wished the three of you could go back to those days. Before university. Before the Army. Before life had gotten a bit more complicated. Before birthdays became another ordinary day.

"Hey, Buckaroo, you good?" Sam nudged Bucky's arm, nodding toward the building beside them. "You really zoned out there."

Bucky nodded. "Let's get this over with."

Taking his cue, the others fell in line around him as they made their way inside.

The receptionist smiled warmly, spying them. Her hand waved almost frantically despite her professionalism. "We're so glad you're here. The incident happened in his personal suite this time. He refuses to tell us how bad it is, but Ms. Potts isn't happy. She hasn't stopped calling to check on your progress. Security's already cleared the elevators, so you can go right up."

They thanked her and headed toward the bank of elevators near the back of the lobby.

"Why would they clear the elevators without us okaying that?" Bucky asked, the thought suddenly occurring.

Sam shrugged his shoulders. "Who cares? At least we're not climbing hundreds of flights of stairs."

Not one to argue with that, Bucky didn't bother to say anything, opting to step into the first elevator to arrive. If he pressed the button to the penthouse a little harder than necessary, no one bothered to mention it.

The ride up to the penthouse for once was relatively quiet. No one bothered to take bets on what Tony Stark could've possibly done this time compared to last. No discussion on what they could be facing or what they'd need to handle this latest situation.

In hind sight, Bucky should've known something was up, but his mind continued to brood. A stray thought kept coming up about possibly calling you later. If anything could lift his mood, an hour talking to you would do it. He'd settle for a couple minutes if you were too busy. He really hoped you wouldn't be.

The elevator dinged, then swished open to a loud chorus of "Surprise".

Streamers and confetti shot towards them.

Steve stood next to Tony, beaming. "Happy birthday, Buck."

"Oh, man, look at his face," Sam crowed as he clapped Bucky on the shoulder, moving past him into the penthouse towards the large buffet table resided. "Dude's been moping all day, thinking we forgot all about him."

That pulled a frown across Steve's features. "Clint, didn't you get my text?"

"No," Clint pulled out his phone and tapped on the screen. After a moment, a sheepish expression washed over his features. His gaze met Steve's, then Bucky's. "That's totally my fault."

Nothing Clint said made any sense, so Bucky turned toward Steve who didn't disappoint as he offered, "We all signed a card that you were supposed to get this morning. I, uh, had a last-minute thing come up, which is why I texted Clint to be sure he got it from my desk. That's on me for not following up. I guess I got a little preoccupied. I'm sorry, Buck."

"It's fine," came his automatic reply.

"Now, now, even I know that's a lie," you said from behind him, "What happened? You used to lie so well. How else did we get ourselves out of trouble so often?"

Bucky spun around and pulled you into a tight enough embrace. He didn't think he'd ever get over how well you fit within the expanse of his arms or the sweet scent you favored. While he remained mindful of the scruff lining his face, he couldn't exactly help but nuzzle against the sensitive spot just below your jaw, only pulling back when you squirmed against him.

By then, you were tapping him to let you out, but that didn't stop him from holding on another full second or two. If he could have his way, he'd never let you go again. Instead, he settled for whispering, "Really missed ya, Sugar."

"I never would've guessed," you said so cheekily that his smile spread easily across his lips. After a moment, you softened. "I missed you, too. Happy birthday, Bucky."

If you were surprised he kept you at his side throughout his party, you never said anything about it. No, you rolled with it like you'd always done with him and Steve in your younger years. Already familiar with most of his co-workers, you quickly fell into your natural teasing personality with most of them, giving Sam and even Clint a run for their money.

It was only when you two moved toward the main host of Bucky's birthday bash that you surprised him.

"So, you're the one I'm supposed to keep my eye on with my new role," you said as you eyed Tony with a skeptical analysis that had the genius billionaire speechless for once. "Pepper warned me about you, and I've seen the montage your A.I. created for me of all your mishaps. Gonna make me earn my nice, fat paycheck, aren't you?"

Bucky spun you until you faced him, not Tony. He knew his face had to be comical, but he didn't care as he asked, "You're moving back here, Sugar?"

Your smile widened while you nodded.

"I thought you liked living in Boston. It was your dream to work there."

"Boston's nice," you shrugged, "but it doesn't hold a candle to our city. I got my fancy master's degree from my ridiculously fancy school. Decided to come back here and work. Plus, I had a little birdie who kept talking me up to Pepper about how I'd be a good fit at Stark Industries."

You nodded over his shoulder which Bucky obliged, only to find Steve raising his glass with a smirk that belied just how proud he was of himself. The punk.

It took Bucky a moment to come back to the conversation, hearing you say, "You're looking at Stark Industries' new Chief Risk Officer with the specialized priority of keeping Tony from upsetting their insurance companies more than he already has. I've already started work on some new protocols within J.A.R.V.I.S's programming to help override some of Tony's dumber decisions."

"Excuse you," Tony hollered.

Most of Bucky's fellow firefighters lounging close by overheard what you said and burst out laughing. Not one of them hadn't been grousing at one point or another when it came to the rather unique calls they'd answered because of Tony and his 'innovations' that initially went terribly wrong.

Neither Bucky nor you acknowledged Tony, who'd finally come out of his speechless state. While both of you were certain he had plenty to say, neither of you cared in that moment as you finally asked, "You're fine with me coming back, aren't you? I'm staying with Steve tonight in his quarters while Pepper finishes fixing mine up. So, I won't be in your way should you find some lucky lady to finish your birthday with."

"Oh, Sugar, you're the only lady I want to spend my birthday with." He pulled you into another tight embrace, still unsure if you're really a dream or not. If you were, he never wanted to wake up. As it stood, he couldn't wait to prove you were the only lady he wanted in his life permanently. As long as you wanted to be anyway.

That could wait another day though.

Right then, he had something worth celebrating that birthday, and he planned to embrace it all.

After all, he had what he wanted most standing in that room and at his side.

[lukesandromeda]

gimme ur fav luke headcanons 😏

DATING l. castellan

pairing: luke castellan x fem!reader

a/n: hi soleil it spooks me what u will do with this information but i also got so carried away with this for some reason and i did in fact not proofread it

• he’s a thief. so obviously as soon as you point out something in the store, uttering a quick “that’s pretty,” he’s nodding and pushing you along to go to another section of the store, mumbling something like, “sure is.” so as soon as you’re not looking he’s breaking the tag off the item and sliding it into his back pocket because he knows that if you were to see him, you’d scold him for his habit.

and when he hands it over to you later without an explanation, you’re asking, “how did you buy this?” and when he looks away nervously, you’re quick to lecture him about why what he did was wrong—but he doesn’t care; he gets to see the smile and appreciation from you.

• hearing constant “i’m so sorry” when he comes late to hang out with you. he’s the head counselor and has so many responsibilities to the point that even begging mr. d to let him go and hang out with his girlfriend will never work.

so when he finally does have the time to hang out, he’s exhausted—beads of sweat from sparring evident on his forehead as he takes the backpack he had slung over his shoulder and tosses it to the ground.

and he’s trying to give you as much attention as he can as he shares stories from his day with you, but his adhd’s getting to him and his eyes are so, so heavy and—you finally ask him if he just wants to go to sleep, and he’s jumping out of bed and changing into comfortable sleeping clothes.

soon he’s back in bed with you, comfortable and grateful enough that the few time he gets with you is not as stressful as what he had to deal with before.

• omfg sparring is the worsttttt with him. he makes you schedule two whole hours, yapping about something like, “i’ll just tell any other kids who wanna practice to wait until tomorrow,” and you’re telling him how it’s not fair for you to take that practice away from someone else, and he’s rolling his eyes and leaving your cabin after pressing a sloppy kiss to your forehead and mumbling, “see you tomorrow.” when you do see him tomorrow, he’s already working on his footwork and smirks as you arrive. the next couple hours are brutal. there are no breaks. at that point, why did you even bring a water bottle?

because every time he has you pinned down and you’re grunting, your throat dry as you look over to your water, he tilts your head back to him with his sword and gives you a look that tells you to focus.

and every time he gets his touch on you, he’s ordering, “again.” he wins. “again.” he wins again. “again.” so many times that you repeat the same moves, and every time, his sword is lightly pressed against your chest and you’re muttering in surrender.

after the fifteenth time of hearing the word again, you drop your sword to the ground and shove him, knocking his sword out of his hands. you break down into tears of frustration, and he’s quick to explain to you that he’s not trying to make you angry—just teach you how to protect yourself.

• usually he’s the one to hold you in his arms and let you speak your mind; he’s usually your rock. but some nights, when maybe a new camper has gotten claimed, or maybe someone got a birthday gift from their godly parent, he’s laying in the crook of your neck as he suppresses his tears against the soft skin there.

he’s talking for hours, babbling about gods know what. you find yourself wondering: how did he go from talking about nick, his newest cabin mate, getting claimed as a child of apollo, to talking about what he would name a dragon? you didn’t mind, because at least now he’s not crying about his father and the stupid quest he’d sent him on.

eventually, after a long day of a fake smile and the stressful teaching of a six hour sparring class, he falls asleep, his last words of “i love you” resting on his lips.

• he’d been happy the entire night—the blue team, his team, had won capture the flag again. he’d had so much fun at the celebration afterwards, (or at least it seemed,) but now it’s time to get ready for bed. it’s 1:30 am, and you’re washing off your makeup in the bathroom mirror when luke comes in, reaching for another rag.

he stands next to you in the mirror, watching your reflection for a moment before his eyes flick over to himself. his jaw clenches, his eyes trailing up and down the left side of his face before he swallows and wets the rag.

he begins to wipe the dirt and grime off his face, slowing down when the cloth traces the scar on his cheek. he drops the rag in the sink and sniffles, walking out of the bathroom and into the bed. once you’re finished, you join him in your room and climb into the bed. you lay down, and he rolls over and rests his face in the crook of his neck.

you wonder why it feels weird for a moment, and then you realize he has his head tilted oddly so that the left side of his face is hiding in the crook of his neck. odd, you think, considering he’d been complaining about neck pain the day before. you lift his head up, hand tracing on his left cheek and he freezes, body tensing.

“luke?” you ask, your eyes searching for a reason to his odd behavior. you look at where your fingers are tracing; on the scar. you understand, and for a moment, you see his eyes fill up with tears.

you swallow and lean forward, pressing a kiss to his scar before resting your forehead against his. he closes his eyes with a pained expression. moments pass, and then he moves to rest his head in the crook of your neck again, but this time he doesn’t hide his scar.

[leftshoeuntied]

Good Neighbors | part one

König x Reader 

part two part three

CW: reader has feminine pronouns, mostly plan on this just being fluff but will include angst and minor character death in future parts (wanted to give a fair warning just in case it makes you uncomfortable!) 

please let me know if I missed anything that should be listed in the warnings though!

also I didn’t edit I’m sorry I’ve re-written this like six times so I just need to get this out haha

With a creak of his bones and a groan, König stretched out in his bed early one morning, wincing at the pull in his left shoulder and the stabbing feeling in his chest with each breath. If those two places hurt less, he probably would’ve noticed the knots in his lower back more but his brain was used to writing out the dull pains his body holds.

As he gotten older, his back has started to hurt more regularly but sleeping on the soft mattress back in his home, well house, only emphasized the pain. House, not home, because he had plans when he had bought this property to turn into a home years ago, make it a side project on times not on mission to create the life he always wanted. Even buying a soft large mattress for the main bedroom, figuring his partner would want a soft mattress, opposite of what he’s used to sleeping on but like the saying goes – soft wife, soft life, and that’s all he would want for his dream wife. 

But like the rest of his dream, the house fell to the backburner, a burning reminder on what could’ve been for him but didn’t come to be. If he could’ve made the base his permanent address, he would’ve sold the house already, but unfortunately, his boss said no. He’s held on to it since then, but still, he’s spent most of his time on base, always coming up with a new excuse on why he needed to stay so close to his work. 

Unfortunately for König though, he had been sent home on medical leave against his will after a broken rib and an injury to the left shoulder that left his body badly bruised and sore. But to him it was a worse punishment to be forced home for six weeks for rest and rehabilitation with physical therapy before he could officially be let out back onto the field. 

Part of him just wishes they would’ve done the surgery to fix his shoulder, instead of waiting to heal on its own. At least then it would’ve had a more distinct schedule of when he can get back to normal, but all he hears from his doctors now is that it’s a low-grade separation, and they hope he should be healed in 6 weeks. We’ll see. He thought to himself as he thanked his doctor gruffly and rolled his neck adjusting to the new brace on shoulder, he’s at least grateful they didn’t force a sling on him, they probably knew he wouldn’t have worn it.

At least the physical therapy for the last two weeks would force him out of the house and into a routine again, but until then? König didn’t know what to do with himself for the next six weeks.

He didn’t have many friends in the area, most of the people he considered close were back on base or getting ready to be sent off on a mission, and there weren’t many people in the neighborhood that he actually knew or spoke to.

The neighborhood was a quiet one, filled with elderly couples, their children already have moved out to have their own families. The older couples would give König a quick smile and wave if they were in their front yards while he was on his way out of the neighborhood, or a jog, but he wasn’t getting invited to the neighbor’s holiday parties. He was okay with that; he didn’t really want to speak with them either. He was fine with just a mutually respectful relationship without them prying into his business.

It was different with his elderly neighbor Carol though. Carol lived at the end of the street with him, across the road from, and from his first day in the neighborhood, she was quick to learn more about the quiet big brute across from her. 

“Good morning, König! It’s good to see you!” His elderly neighbor Carol calls from the driver’s window her car with a smile and a wave, idling in front of his driveway. Any other one of his neighbors, he probably would’ve given them a curt nod before turning away from them, but not Carol. 

Carol was one of the few bright spots for him in this neighborhood, and one of the few reasons he even did come back to his house at times. 

He had done some projects for her over the years, and even while he was gone, he made sure she was still taken care of. Like during the winter, he always made sure she had her driveway plowed, whether it be done by him while he is home, or mistakenly telling the plow truck driver her address instead of his own. He’s helped her keep the gutters clean around her house, cleared the drains at the end of their driveways during any storms, and even helped her clean out the basement when she had some water damage after an issue with her water line.

Carol reminded him of his own grandmother who has since passed and felt it was important to take care of her since he’s never seen any of her own family looking out for her. When he has been invited into her house for meals or to offer his help with projects, he’s seen the numerous family photos, numbers of photos should young children smiling, weddings, and graduations but of all the times he’s been over to help, never once had he heard about any of them visiting her. He can’t help the protectiveness he feels over her, and the frustration he feels thinking about her family just forgetting about her and what he wouldn’t give to be back with his Oma.

“Guten morgen Carol, it’s good to see you, how are you?” König jogging softly over to her from his front steps and meeting her at her car window.

“Ah I’m doing well, but I’m not too sure about you, hm?” She says while eyeing the brace on his shoulder. “I always get so nervous for you, hon, I’m glad you’re home safe though.” She says giving him that maternal look but grabbing his wrist with an endearing squeeze. 

“Anyways I’m off to my doctor’s appointment, you’ll have to come by for dinner sometime soon while you’re still home, alright dear?”

“Yes ma’am.” König gives a small smile and nod, knowing she’ll follow up with a call to tell him when he’s supposed to be at her house. She pulls her arm away with a smile, getting ready to put her window back but as König goes to turn back to his mailbox she quickly stops and calls out.

“Oh! And if you see someone pull into my driveway while I’m not home, don’t worry! It’s just my granddaughter. She’s going to be staying with me for a bit, working on some projects around the house. I’ll have to introduce the two of you, she’s just the sweetest!”

König gives her a smile and nod as she pulls away, but he can’t help the feeling of trepidation building up his spine. Granddaughter? He never met any of her grandkids, not that he spent much time at his house, but he spent enough time to know Carol and how she always wished her family visited her more, so why now?

Carol doesn’t need her granddaughter to come over and work on projects around the house, he can do that, he’s been doing them for her for the past couple of years and now he’s even got the time to start the larger projects he promised. He’s looking forward to the dinner with Carol and her granddaughter just so he can figure out why this granddaughter did decide to finally show up.

divider by @/riottsrph (thank you!!)

[harpval]

❈Blue Blood❈

Kaiser and F!Reader, Regency/Bridgerton AU.

synopsis: With the death of the late marquess, Kaiser finds himself falling into his father's role. Kaiser is many things, but responsible is not one of them. He must take on this season alone. He needs an escape, a sate haven, something to tide him over so he survives the season. That would be you, unfortunately.

disclaimer/content(overall): Abuse, alcohol consumption, semi-violent, PTSD, flashbacks, suggestive, slow burn.

prev: pilot next: Important Matters

A Moment of Weakness.

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Dearest reader,

It has been but only a few days since the season began, and there is already a swarm of young ladies in pursuit of the new Marquess. It has become increasingly apparent that he has his pick of the litter, leaving the other gentlemen of the ton to hope he secures a match soon to leave some for the rest of them.

However, for the most eligible bachelor of the season, he appears to be all but satisfied. His endless selection of debutantes does not compare to the supply of liquor from the bar he frequents quite so often. It truly leaves us to wonder if the source of his cold demeanor and lack of speech is related to the contents of a bottle, perhaps. Or is he simply infuriated that he is receiving the same treatment the ladies of the ton have endured for years?

Poor sweet Marquess, do not crumble under the pressure. You shall find your bride.

Lady Whistledown’s Society Papers.

“I do not believe I can read another word of this.” Laurence wrinkles his nose at the gossip column. He’s leaned against the table in the entryway to your home, his sleeves rolled up. Beside him stands Victor, partially amused as he holds up the scandal sheet.

“It is because you sympathize with a fellow drunkard.”

“That was unnecessary.” The younger of the two quips. You watch the interaction as you silently descend the stairs. It is a fair morning, and the windows open wide to allow in the sweet spring air. Sunlight filtered in and illuminated the room in a natural glow.

“What was it you said just the other day, Victor?” your words cause his eyes to flicker up towards you, eyes wide. “About the scandal sheets withering our brains away?” You cross the room, hoping to get a glimpse of the sheet. Laurence stifles a laugh and Victor sighs, shaking his head.

“We simply feel empathy for the Marquess Kaiser, this woman has shown him no mercy.” Victor smacks the sheet with the back of his hand before passing it off to you. Your eyes flit over the words, skimming over the important parts while ignoring the rest.

“So he is a brute, a drunkard, and miserable? He is a man of many talents,” You muse as your voice borders a laugh. You feel a pang of sympathy though nothing more, he is not your business so why should you dwell on such meaningless things? Laurence follows you to the drawing room. Lainie and Lucia playing some game with marbles on the floor, and your father’s lanky figure rests on the sofa. His gaze turns to you, work weary and aged.

“Father,” you greet him. The scandal sheet rested behind your back. He’s never been fond of things of that nature. He gives you a small nod, regarding you and Laurence before you join him on the sofa adjacent. The couch is positioned against the wall, the light from the window beaming down against you. A warm flutter coursing through you.

“You have a vacancy in your schedule?” Laurence chirps beside you. Your father nods.

“For the races, I have never missed a race, not since I was a boy.” He sighs, flicking through a paper as opposed to the gossip column placed beneath your rear on the couch.

“I forgot that was today.” Lucia chimes in from her spot on the floor beside Lainie. Every year the race is one of your family's biggest events, and since your father makes a big deal out of it you all do as well. Although you’re not quite so outgoing as the rest of them. Neither is Lucia, ever since she became serious about being perceived as more ladylike she stopped her loud cheering and throwing her fist in the air. No one remembers her as an outgoing girl, just a prim and proper lady. Only you have the luxury of your sister scolding you for the most ridiculous of things, or watching her boss around the staff and then thanking them with grand gestures later on.

“We should get ready soon, then. It’s another appearance as women, no longer just an outing for us.” You meet Lucia’s gaze. She composes herself with a nod and rises to her feet, Lenore moving in to clean the marbles off the floor as Lainie follows her around.

“Oh, I got us hats.” Lucia leans over the armrest to throw her arms around you.

“Hats?”

“Yes, I was out with Mama and I got us the prettiest of hats. I promise they’re much more tame than the rest of the ones we see sported at the races.” She beams excitedly, your father sighing and slumping on the couch. You pat your sister’s arm with a sigh.

“So you mean I won’t get to look like a peacock?” You quip sarcastically. She pinches your arm, earning a wince.

“Don’t be smart.” She orders you before heading out of the room. From your peripheral Laurence is mocking her, moving his lips and cocking his head to each side. You sigh in response.

–

You turn the hat over in your hands, standing alone in your room as Lenore adds the last touches to your dress for the races. More fitted than those you’d wear to a ball or soiree. The color was rich and fitted for spring, once again pumping up your bosom just enough to where it was appropriate for a Lady of your standing.

“May I,” Lenore gestures for the hat. A dainty hand reaching for it. If she had been so lucky she would’ve made the most proper of ladies. You nod, passing it off to her with a smile.

“Thank you, Lenore.” She smiles at the praise and begins to adjust the hat to your head. A simple design, cream colored with a sash across the center that matched the fabric of your dress and a flower made of tulle to the right. It was perfect for keeping the sun out of your eyes. Of unique fashion, but simple and elegant.

“I’ve never been one for hats,” You admit as you watch her secure the hat atop your head. Her lips quirked into a smile as she studied you in the mirror, carefully adjusting the flower on the hat to appear more pronounced.

“It flatters you, Miss.” She speaks softly before kneeling, smoothing out the bottom of your dress. You watch, a small smile creeping onto your lips.

“Thank you, Lenore.” She gives a nod of gratitude before sending you on your way.

You join your family downstairs, waiting on your father as you’re all gathered in the foyer. Victor and Laurence talking in front of the door, your mother fanning yourself. Lainie approaches you, giddy, Lucia trailing behind her.

“We all have hats!” Lainie beams up at you, a soft pink-colored hat on her head. It’s not functional, small, and clipped into her hair as it rests to the side of her head partially, tulle dangling off the side.

“And to think you didn’t like tulle,” You say as you kneel, her hands finding yours. She giggles and glances up to Lucia.

“Made an exception. But just this once.” Lainie says matter-of-factly. Lucia’s lip quirks, amused. Lucia’s hat is of a similar fashion to the one she gave you, though white with a patterned sash around the top. From what you can see the colors are a blend of teal, white and pink.

A crescendo of footsteps from behind you catches your attention. You rise to your feet as you see your father’s form emerge from his office. His hands smooth down his stiff black pants as he looks at your mother.

At that you all make your way to the carriage, managing to cram into the smaller space. You’re smooshed between your brothers, Victor holding Lainie in his lap as she babbles about something you can’t hear over the sound of the horse pulling the carriage along the clicky cobblestone road. Lucia sitting between your parents, tapping her foot against yours every so often to snag your attention away from the outside.

–

Upon arrival Lainie is glued to your side, walking beside you as you’re escorted by Laurence. Your mother and Lucia are escorted by your father and Victor. Everyone is dressed similarly, dawning the colors of spring and floral detailing. Lucia glances at you as you pass by a woman with a hat with extravagant feathers on it. Butter yellow with accents of daisies. You stifle a laugh, biting the inside of your cheek and lowering your gaze.

Around you, various Lords and Ladies of the ton intermingle in a sea of spring colors and delicate parasols. Your brother observes, grinning before leaning down into your ear.

“Porsha Certainly makes her presence known,” You wrinkle your nose as his booze-tainted breath tickles your ear, though fail to resist the urge to follow his gaze, Her hair is done up elaborately, a strange hat with a ribbon tied into it. However, your attention is snagged by an extraneous force, the man she’s conversing with. Two other young ladies are encircling him–Oh, the Marquess. You stifle a laugh, a gloved hand hovering above your freshly glossed lips.

“Ah, so she’s found her prey.” Laurence’s voice comes through quiet and woven with mockery. You smirk, watching the girl fan herself, casting a calculating gaze onto the man she is attempting to woo.

“Her eyes look threatening,” You mutter to your brother as the two of you slow your paces like the gossip-engrossed siblings you are. Lainie stands beside you, blissfully unaware. He snickers at your comment and looks ahead. He says something but his words turn to a blur as you’re met with a set of cold blue eyes.

Across the field where Porsha is putting herself on display, the man before her is looking directly at you. You urge yourself to look away, feeling the sweat accumulate in your hairline. The soft breeze futile to cool your nerves. His gaze narrows slightly. By some chance, your brother does not notice the sudden war of eyes between you and him, the Marquess seeming to challenge you silently. His hair was drawn back into a small ponytail at the base of his neck, blonde still framing his face, strands too short to reach the hairstyle.

He is dressed once again in blue and black, light blues as opposed to the royal blue he dawned the night of the first ball. The black collar was high, if not for his long neck he would’ve looked a fool. And a pair of black gloves once again. Most gentlemen of the ton did not wear gloves if they did not need them, and once again–it was most common to adorn white gloves.

You avert your gaze, your heart racing as you feel the heat rise to your cheeks, blushing indefinitely. You’ve never been stared at in that way, fighting the crease forming in your brow. Lainie tugs your dress, and you snap your attention to her. She is pointing outward, and you follow her little finger.

“The weather is quite lovely,” a voice emerges from your side. Lainie’s hand falls at her side as the man approaches the three of you. You feel your brother’s shoulders square, his arm still hooked through yours.

“Lord Luna! Pleasant to see you,” Laurence whirls the two of you around to face the blonde approaching. He was the first to have approached you at that first ball, you hadn’t seen him after that–a rather slow start to this season if you may. He greets your little sister and then you, gaze lingering on you before flickering back to your brother with that friendly smile. His smile was almost coy.

“I was hoping to be properly introduced today,” He states sweetly “To your sister?” he proposes as he slowly glances back at you. Your heart involuntarily races at the sudden attention. However, it is what you are trained for. Laurence seems to grin, patting your arm gently.

“Ah, yes! My younger sister.” He chirps before chuckling “You two met at the Duke’s ball, correct?” Your brother thankfully has the respect to turn his gaze to you. You nod, regarding Lord Luna.

“We did, I did not expect you to be quite the dancer, My lord.” You humor him, earning a small chuckle. Truth is, he’s one of the suspects who stepped on your foot.

“I did what I could to keep up with you, Miss,” he says. Your brother releases your arm from his before you hook your free hand through Luna’s. Your gaze goes to Lainie who’s now hooked to your brother’s pant leg–gazing up at you starry-eyed. You give a small wave to her before turning around and accompanying Lord Luna. A small, pleasant smile on his face.

“Are you a fan of the races?” You speak first as the two of you walk and bask in the sunlight and stares you receive from the nosy mamas of the ton.

“It is newer to me,” he admits as you feel his eyes wander to you. “This wasn’t common in Madrid, or at least I wasn’t aware of it. I spent most of my time abroad.” His voice is soft, his accent thick and oddly friendly. You nod as he speaks, a smile on your lips as you gaze at the ton.

“What about you? Now I don’t mean to pry, but it is rare to see the Baron out at such events.” He lowers his voice and turns to you. A smirk crosses your lips as you look back over to him.

“My family has attended these races for years now. My father will attend only the important events–and then this. This is Lainie’s first year too.” He nods as you speak, a good listener, perhaps? He is a good prospect–but you must explore your options, as you’re sure he has done.

“Your family must be close then, yes?”

“Very,” you say, amused by memories of your family only you will get to cherish. He laughs softly.

People slowly began to make their way to the stands to secure their spots, the two of you silently following the crowd. He gently guides you through, leading you to a spot towards the center. A spot that grants you a view of the race track, a smile on your face as you see the horse's heads from their stations, each wearing a sheet of cloth over their faces, colored in the fashion of their racers with holes for their eyes.

“We got lucky,” He leans over to you, chuckling as the rest of the seats fill in quickly. You look around, meeting Lucia’s gaze. Your father secured a spot to the far right as always to oversee the start and end of the race. She gives you a smirk before looking back out at the track.

“We did,” you reply, hands folded in front of your skirt as you squint your eyes out at the track as some man starts to make incoherent announcements, earning some giggles from you and Lord Luna.

You find yourself searching the crowd. So far, you’ve spotted the Duke and Duchess. To no surprise, all who accompanied them was their youngest, Nora. You spot Porsha, who seems to have noticed you too. Despite sitting in a lower section, she seems to stare down at you before whipping her head around. Maybe she’s in a foul mood because she failed to secure the Marquess? You ought to be delusional to believe you can secure a man like that, and so early on? You find yourself looking for the blonde man, curious as to where he chose to sit.

You'd spot him, his sharp side profile overlooking the race track. His gaze however exuded distaste. His posture was stiff as some girl beside him made her advances, gently fanning herself. You watch the curls on the back of her head bounce as she turns from him to the track.

“The Marquess makes his appearance once again,” Lord Luna seems to detect your attention. You swiftly look back at him, heat rising to your cheeks.

“My apologies,” You mutter, fearful you may have offended him. He merely chuckles.

“Are not necessary.” He completes your sentence for you. “He is a peculiar one. Has he called upon you?” He inquires with genuine curiosity. Your lips set into a line and you shake your head.

“No, we were introduced at the ball. I’m the daughter of the Baron so, I was naturally a victim–” You joke. He fails to stifle a laugh, a pleasant sound from a pleasant man.

“He is the talk of the ton, so it seems.” He remarked. A hum escapes you, your attentions wandering back to the Marquess for a moment.

“It seems so.” your eyes are drawn back to the green ones beside you, a gentle smile on your lips.

There is the pop of a gun and a crescendo of stampeding hooves against dry earth. Around you, gentlemen and ladies cheer. For you thankfully, Lord Luna is not as boisterous as your father and brother’s, sparing you from another year of temporary deafness. From where you sat, you hear the baron’s deep voice cheer on whatever horse he chooses to root for until the very end. You hear your brothers carry on that same deep tone they inherited from your father.

“Look at them go,” Luna claps his hands, a proud grin encompassing his expression. He looks at you, and you smile at that, nodding before clapping your own hands as the first lap comes to a close. A large gap between the two horses in the lead and the other three leading behind.

“It’s almost unfair to the other three.” You note, snickering. You’re well aware your father is cheering for the one behind the lead as his voice carries even further than before.

“Goodness, is that the Baron?” Luna snickers as he looks in the direction of your father. You avert your gaze, cheeks hot with embarrassment as you nod.

“Yes, that is. And he will only get louder.” You lean into his ear, a warning. This earns another laugh from him.

“His energy is remarkable!” He beams back at you. You look away again with a small sigh, eyes slowly roaming over the crowd. Your eyes suddenly lock on the Marquess. The girl he’s with clinging to him as he attempts to pull away. His hand swats her off, though thanks to the energy of the crowd they go mostly unnoticed. Irritation bubbles in your chest as you watch him storm off, hands clamped tightly over his ears as his shoulders hunched.

And that’s when you recognize her, Anastasia Baker. She is a friend of your sister’s, the girl leaves sobbing. Her shoulders shaking and her hands cupped over her face as she disappeared in another direction.

“That vile man!–” You mumble under your breath. Oh, how you sound like your father. No, worse–victor!

“Excuse me, I just need a moment of fresh air,” You excuse yourself. Lord Luna’s brow rose slightly.

“Would you like my company?” He offers and you shake your head no, declining as politely as possible.

“I shall be but a moment; I wouldn’t want us to lose our seats, " you say, giving a gentle smile. He shrugs and nods. With that, you weave through the stands swiftly, greeting those who recognize you with a fleeting smile and bow of your head before you hurry off to find Ana.

She was a close friend of Lucia’s, a sweet and impressionable girl you adored as if she were a little sister. She’s not of noble standing, and her family is not quite so known either so to find prospects is hard, it is a miracle she even spoke to the Marquess, much less attended the races with him. You were fuming, face so hot steam may as well have puffed out of your ears.

The field behind the stands is more vacant, with only a few lords and ladies disinterested in the races mingling over a floral lemonade. You compose yourself, avoiding any further attention on you as you begin to look around, a smile on your face as you maintain a composed facade, no matter how hard that may be with the frustration that threatened to wrinkle your brow.

Your search is futile, wandering around aimlessly with a strained smile on your face every time you’re pulled into aimless conversation.

Across from you is a small plot of woods, a cluster of trees surrounded by meticulously trimmed bushes, the perfect ratio of shade and sunlight. You approach the shade, though stop in your tracks as you stand before one of the bushes, behind the bush in the soft green grass is a figure sitting–hunched over and rocking side to side. The Marquess. Black gloves digging into blonde locks of hair. Your eyes narrow to slits.

“My Lord, fancy seeing you out here.” You sneer, watching his head spin around as if knocked off its axis.

“You–” He stammers. Was he drunk? He seems it. His hair was disheveled, sweat glistening on his skin, and a twitch in his brow. His breathing was erratic. “You shouldn’t be here. Go, be gone with you–” He swishes you off with his hand before turning away. You feel the heat rise to your face at the gesture, one of disrespect. Could he truly be this discourteous?

“Have you no manners?” You quip. He hisses through clenched teeth, rocking back and forth and shaking his head.

“I said go,” His voice trails off into a wheeze and he draws in a sharp breath “Leave me-” His voice remains strained. Your shoulders relax as you finally evaluate his state. He’s sweating, rocking back and forth like a madman with gloved hands clinging to blonde hair. He breathes as if someone has knocked the wind from his lungs.

“It is but- but a moment of weakness!”

“My Lord,” You begin softly

“Leave.” He demands. Something was wrong, very wrong. You look around, thankfully shielded by vendors and scattered trees. You squeeze your way between the bushes, mumbling under your breath as you tug the fabric of your dress through the bushes.to your luck, there were no holes, only a few blades of grass and pricks of the bush that clung to the fabric.

“You’re sweating. Please, take this at least?” You offer him your lemonade, a flower petal circling the top. You leave him no room for refusal. A gruff sound escapes him as he accepts the lemonade, taking a slow sip of it. His gaze is low, but you can see the sweat that drips from his chin. “Should I go find someone, My Lord?” You ask and kneel on the grass, smoothing out the fabric of your dress as you watch him. He shakes his head.

“No, Please, anything but that.” His voice trembles, as if he is going to burst into laughter. You watch the muscles in his jaw tense and relax like a reflex. There’s a long silence between the two of you. The occasional shaky breath slips past his quivering lips after he takes a sip of the lemonade.

“Are you injured?” To this he scoffs, laughing as he finally lifts his head to meet your gaze, eyes bloodshot but there are no tears, sweat cascading down his cheek before beading off of his chin.

“I said go.” His nostrils flared and he shot a hostile glare in your direction. His body language conveys a message akin to an abused street dog. His voice a deep rumble, he had given you an order. Your brows draw together and you step back. Did Anastasia say something to him? Was it the races? Alcohol? You’re not familiar with this, seeing such a proud man crumbling like this. A Noble no less.

Before you can speak another word there is a rustling in the bushes. A footman dressed in blue parting the bushes with his hands.

“My Lady,” He stammers as if shocked to see you. You feel your temperature rise at the realization of your isolation with the marquess. Unchaperoned.

“He needs medical attention–” You exhale and the Footman approaches the man on the floor, receiving a few swats from a gloved hand. The footman then looks back at you.

“It is quite alright, Please, My lady–return to the races.” He ushes you, quickly beginning to undo the collar of the Marquess’s shirt. You hold your tongue, pivoting on your heel and hoisting the fabric of your gown up so it does not snag on the bushes as you shift between the plants. The faint mumble and argument fade away behind you as you reappear in the open, smoothing out any wrinkles in your gown and brushing off stray blades of grass. The distant sound of cheers and roars of the crowd flooding your senses as you rejoin the festivities.

“My Lady,” A call comes from your right. Lord Luna. You compose yourself, a soft smile finding its way to your lips as you bow your head regarding the man.

“My Lord.” He eyes you skeptically, a crease in his brow in minor confusion. He simply sighs.

“I was starting to worry, wondering if I should send out a search party.” Humor laced in his tone. You return a soft laugh, shaking your head.

“Ah, that won’t be necessary. I apologize, I found myself sidetracked with the vendors.” Your lips set into a line as your gaze drops to the floor for a moment. “I did see the most enticing stand of lemonade, infused with flower teas. I would like to try it.” You meet his gaze again, similarly fluttering your lashes to your sister, Lucia. It seems to work, a smile on his face as he slowly hooks his arm through yours.

“That sounds delightful, lead the way.” The charming tune returns to his voice, and you can’t help but mirror his smile. Your gaze slowly drifts to the wooded area you once were as the two of you promenade about the greenery, greeting people as you walk by.

Your mind begins to wander. Your heart racing at the thought of being caught alone with the Marquess. Footmen hold little apparent social power, but if you know anything from your lady’s maids or Lenore–That the sort of power those who work for you have is slow processing.

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A/N courses getting serious 🙂‍↕️ so I do apologize if parts come out slower/sloppy.

I always forget the tags

Taglist

@noomimi @syleepy

[cbrownjc]

I know it in my soul, in my body, and in my bones that you’ve answered this question at some point but I just can’t find it, please forgive me lol

Let me say first off one thing. I absolutely love Eric, I want that man to be immortal in real life so we can keep him all for our self’s, I don’t want him to leave the show anytime soon, I’m not ageists and I want to see the full scope of present day devils minions with Eric.

But my question is do you think at some point with the whole body thief and raglan stuff, that Daniel is going to be de-aged? (Played by Luke in present day)My feelings are that I wouldn’t mind it and I think it would be a really cool climax in the show. Maybe everyone thinks Daniel’s dead/hurt or however they do it and everyone will be shocked. Louis will be distraught (bc I feel that Daniel and him are gonna have a brotherly relationship going into s3), Lestat at that point might actually like/care about Daniel, and obviously a massive emotional blow out for Armand.

Any thoughts on this, obviously if you disagree/ don’t see it happening I want to hear all about that too. I do think at the slow rate they’re pumping out these seasons Eric’s gonna be close to 80 in no time, which makes me a weee bit nervous. Even tho that won’t stop me from objectifying that man lmao. Love your breakdown💕

Hi! 👋🏾 Nice to hear from you again!

Okay, so fair warning: this is going to be long. But I kind of have almost a year's-long wait of stuff to say about this.

So first off, yes, I did sort of talk about it before. Once. Here's the link.

That post was made when Season 2 had just started airing, btw. (I think only up to Episode 2x03 had aired by that point.) Before I figured out the show was going to turn Daniel at the end of Season 2 (after Episode 2x05 aired).

But in it, I was bluntly and brutally honest wrt how the TV/film industry works when it comes to this stuff. (Shooting schedules, how studios view actors over the age of 75, etc. Because, as I've said multiple times, my dad worked in the industry. I spent many a summer on film and TV sets. I know the harsh reality of how this all works.) But, given a subpost or two I saw after I first made that above post, some people still really didn't like it, and yes, called it ageist to even bring it up and say what I did.

And that, quite frankly, is why I only talked about it that one time before now. Because I didn't feel like dealing with any more subposts or possible backlash, and/or hate I would get for writing/discussing this all, especially post-Season 2.

Because it's very clear how much some fans hate the very idea of this. And yes, that is because in some ways it can feel ageist, there is no denying that, no matter if there is truly no intent to do so when discussing this.

So that said, yes, I do actually have some more thoughts about all of this post-Season 2. Ones I haven't shared here publicly on Tumblr, or anywhere else, really. Only in private DMs (and in emails with one person). Not only because of what happened the last time I waded into this topic, but because I saw how some reacted to the final episode of Season 2. Or, more to the point, didn't have a problem with how Season 2 ended wrt Armand and Daniel.

And I've made it no secret that I have a big problem with it.

But I recognized that many people really just wanted to have fun and enjoy Eric's Daniel being a vampire, so I consequently decided not to post about that specific topic too much for a time (i.e., whether Daniel was turned out of spite or not), as well as not going into the subject of a possible de-aging at all.

But... it's been almost a year now. And shooting for Season 3 is about to start next week. So what the hell. 🤷🏾‍♀️

So my current, now post-Season 2 answer is that not only do I think a de-aging body swap with Daniel is possible, I think it already happened.

Frankly, I felt, in my gut, that it had already happened the second I saw Daniel in that final scene at the end of Season 2. And nothing I've seen or heard about Season 3 so far has changed my opinion on that. And only strengthened it some more.

My reasons? Well, the First one: I've mentioned Daniel's eye color being wrong before, in other posts. Because there is absolutely no reason Daniel's post-turning eye color is the color it is. His having his Maker's eye color makes no sense because Louis doesn't have Lestat's eye color. Claudia didn't get Lestat's eye color either. Daniel being older than he was in the book when he was turned shouldn't make a difference wrt his vampire eye color either.

There are really only two things that can account for it: either the show's production team got Daniel's eye color wrong, (and the next time we see Daniel on screen his eyes will be purple/violet), or . . . it was made that yellow-orange color on purpose as a hint that something is off wrt Daniel as we saw him at the end of Season 2. That will only come into focus later on as a hint when the show finally, fully adapts the Tale of the Body Thief.

Daniel's eye color being wrong is something, at this point in time, that only book readers would notice. A more general audience who hasn't read the books, and isn't steeped in fandom, wouldn't even pick up on it, nor should they.

@nalyra-dreaming made a good post here about how the show has already used an effect on eyes to show possession. I think the show has begun to do the same thing when it comes to soul switching. And that when we finally get to the full Body Thief story with Lestat, we'll get a similar indication that something is off with Lestat via his eyes, particularly his eye color. Just as we're seeing with Daniel right now, IMO.

As the old saying goes, "The eyes are the windows into the soul." Which goes into --

Second: At the end of Season 2, Rolin Jones already said, here in this interview, that the show has to begin to set up the very idea of the "soul," and that Raglan James wasn't just there in Season 2 for plot reasons (i.e., getting Daniel a copy of that script). And I mean, just the fact that he's Raglan James in the first place is a huge, glaring sign that the show has begun setting up for Tale of the Body Thief. And the show only had him interacting with Daniel, connecting Daniel's character to him at first, right now, going forward.

Now, I freely admit, for a time there, I did 100% think that Raglan could actually be Marius in disguise. Particularly because of that line he says directly to Daniel in Episode 2x06, "If I could switch bodies with you, I'd be running the Talamasca," was just a little too much on the nose for me. But something I didn't realize is that it is only a line that is too much on the nose for book readers. Non-book readers, and people who aren't active in fandom, wouldn't think anything about such a line having any kind of weight or hint about it.

But I actually don't think it was Raglan himself who was the one who switched bodies with Daniel. I think Raglan used Daniel, along with someone else, as a test. And Raglan doing so ties into him wanting "reciprocation" from Daniel for getting him that copy of the trial script.

image credit @nalyra-dreaming

Also, there is the fact that Season 2 of Mayfair Witches established that the Talamasca did not want Daniel's ITWV book to be published, and they are going to work to actively discredit it, to make people think it's fiction. Which means that Raglan James was not working with the Talamnasca when he got Daniel's book published and, moreover, might not have still been working with the Talamnasca when he first approached Daniel in Dubai. Or, if he was still working for them, he was already planning to either break away, or -- what I think is more likely -- he is still part of the group but making the Talamansca think he is still loyal to them; while he secretly has his own plans he's working on.

Plans that will eventually get exposed and get him kicked out of the order, and then thrown in jail. Which he'll then escape from.

Which is what James' status was at the start of the Tale of the Body Thief book.

Whichever way it all falls, it is very much looking like Raglan James approached Daniel in Dubai with his own hidden agenda going on, IMO. One that was clearly not connected to the wishes of the Talamansca, as seen with the publication of the IWTV book and their reaction to it in Season 2 of MW.

Third: I know how things appeared to many at the end of Season 2. That there is an impression that Armand turned Daniel right there in Dubai and left Louis to find him, or something.

But neither Louis nor Daniel directly says that is what happened. Yes, Louis says that he shouldn't have left Daniel alone with him, but to me, that only implies that Armand might have taken Daniel somewhere after Louis left the room. But that does not mean Armand turned him right then and there. (Or took him somewhere else and turned him either.)

Because, honestly, Rolin saying that Armand turned Daniel, as he said in his post S2 interview, doesn’t mean he’s telling the truth about that. His saying, in the same breath, mind you, that we’ll never see Armand turning Daniel is what screamed to me that he was lying about Armand turning Daniel, quite frankly. Confirming that Armand is Daniel's Maker isn't something you do in a post-season interview -- because not all general audience viewers are out there reading post-show interviews. That is something you confirm on screen.

Showrunners lie all the time to not give away upcoming plot points, spoilers, and twists. And I have no indication Rolin is above doing such a thing, just like other showrunners do. Trust, I was in Game of Thrones fandom, where the showrunners flat-out lied all the damn time, famously so in the case of the final season of that show.

Right now, when it comes to the show itself, it's only been confirmed that Armand turned Daniel -- we assume -- via dialogue. However, Louis clearly wasn't there when it happened. So he's not speaking from actually seeing it happen, likely not even from finding Daniel directly after it did. For all we know, Louis might only be going off of what Daniel told him.

The only real, hard word we have about Armand being Daniel's Maker is Daniel himself. And if it wasn't Daniel's soul actually in his body when he called Armand that, as I really do think is the case, well . . . then "Daniel" could say anything about who his Maker, couldn't he?

What I'm saying is, not only do I not think Armand turned Daniel before he was body-switched, I don't think Armand did it after Daniel's soul was switched out of his body either.

The Talmansca, in the show's universe, have vampires who work for it. We learned this with regard to Sam Barcely in Season 2. And we recently learned it again with regard to Jason Schwartzman, who was announced to also be playing a vampire who works for the Talamasca.

Because, honestly, there is almost no way to verify who Daniel's Maker is outside of seeing the turning done. Or if Armand himself backs it up from what Daniel has said about it. We saw that in Season 2 when Claudia named her's and Louis' Maker as being Bruce. It was only through Louis' slip-ups (and Armand's skill with the Mind Gift) that verified that it was actually Lestat.

There is absolutely nothing that prevents some other vampire from being the one who turned Daniel's body . . . with Daniel's soul not actually being IN the body at the time.

And no, to do so wouldn't go against anything because, in the Vampire Chronicles universe, who the person is truly seen as is their soul, not whatever body they are in. That is something pretty well established in the Tale of the Body Thief, and then taken even further with the concept of ghosts.

And, per book canon, there is no way to verify if the soul in a body is the original soul of that body. The only way it was done in the book was either verbally -- basically, Lestat knowing things only he and the person in question discussed (which was God and the Devil in a cafe for Lestat and David), or an emotional plea, as Lestat had to do with Louis, since Louis couldn't read minds at the time. But even reading someone's mind won't always reveal it, as Lestat discovered when he poured his heart out to who he thought was David -- but who was actually Raglan James in David's body.

And Lestat only knew that he'd been tricked, and it was Ragland James in David's body, when he began to turn whom he thought was David; and the memories from tasting the blood revealed the deception of it all to Lestat.

Which leads me into the Fourth thing: I have a sneaking suspicion that Season 3 of the show is about to do a spin on that very moment from the book; Lestat pouring his heart out to someone he sees as a friend, but it turns out, is not. Because a body-switch has happened before then.

I don't think Lestat is going to be fully comfortable talking with "Daniel" at first. However, he will know that Daniel is Louis' friend -- basically a "little brother" to Louis, as Jacob describes Louis and Daniel's relationship. So I think, over the course of the seasons, he'll grow more comfortable talking with "Daniel," and telling his story.

But that person won't really be Daniel. And while I think the audience will understand that by the final episode of Season 3, I don't think Louis and Lestat will. Not yet.

In the books, Lestat just wrote his own story down in a book himself. Which, for a TV show, would just be really boring to watch. So why not have him do it in an "Interview" type way as well? It keeps the name of the show relevant. But also since the show is already setting up Tale of the Body Thief and you've already cut out David Talbot and merged his character with Daniel (and probably Louis as well, but put that to the side for the moment), then why not also incorporate that moment where Lestat pours his heart out to David regarding his life and such, but it's not really David that he's talk to?

Minus the skull-crushing and the latter force-turning, of course.

And speaking of that --

Fifth: Again, no, I don't think Armand turned Daniel out of spite or against his will. Yes, even if Daniel has gotten a lot of David's storyline. One, because the force-turning was specifically a Lestat-thing, related to his trauma from Magnus and his view of himself post-body swap. The intent behind the force-turing thing is tied into the character who did it -- Lestat -- and his trauma wrt his own turning and what he felt about himself after the body-swap was over, and he was back in his vampire body.

There is nothing that specifically means it has to be done in the first place to a character that takes up part of David's storyline. Daniel doesn't have to be forced into being turned just because David was. Especially if Lestat isn't the one who does it.

I already went into why I don't think the show has done that with Armand here, and what, narratively, I think this is really all about. And that it all goes into the show about to present Armand as a villain in Season 3. Something I realized was coming towards the end of Season 2, and couldn't be cut out or changed.

Armand's framing in The Vampire Lestat is that of an antagonist, a villain. Even Marius, Armand's own Maker, we learn in that book, gave up on Armand. And the show is, IMO, going to be sticking with all of that.

And the belief that Armand forced-turned Daniel not only plays into all of this, but it'll be heightened by the audience seeing exactly what Lestat went through when he was abducted and forced into vampirism by Magnus.

Which is why I've actually come to think that "Daniel" is going to "confirm" that Armand turned him out of "spite" in Season 3. Because it will be something Lestat, more than likely, will connect with Daniel about.

And let me be clear, all the things we'll see Lestat talking about Armand having done in the past will be true. Armand very much did do all of what Lestat will reveal and talk about.

But when it comes to the present day? When it comes to Daniel's turning? Well, as Claudia said in Season 2, the best lies have some truth to them. Paining Armand as someone who would turn Daniel by force, out of spite, will be easy to do, given the absolutely true history of the things Armand did do in the past. (Which, for those who don't know, includes force-drinking from Lestat.)

So it'll be no stretch for a general audience, who've never read the books and only know of Armand via the TV show, to believe what is being told about this, including Daniel's turning. And that is absolutely by narrative design.

The key to looking at all of this is through the eyes of a member of the general audience who isn't online in fandom, who've never read the books, and have no idea what the story that's coming is. Even now, having watched some reactions on YouTube from such people, many of them already think Armand is a villain. And some still see that wrt Lestat too.

If Season 3 is done right, then Lestat's "villainy" will be put into context that shows he truly isn't one, but was painted as one due to Armand's memory manipulations (the gaslighting, as Jacob himself confirmed) of Louis.

Which will then likely have Armand, alone, viewed as the villain of the story. When that also will not be the case, what with Akasha and Amel set to begin to come into those roles in the story post-Season 3 as we head into Queen of the Damned.

Because again, as Assad already let slip, Season 4 is when we'll finally get Armand's backstory. And that is when we'll see that no, Armand isn't all villain either. Just as we are set to see with Lestat in Season 3.

However, the reason for that -- that when it comes to Armand, that he is not only all villainous despite everything he's done in the past -- that all pretty much begins with Daniel. . . and Armand's relationship with Daniel.

And you 100% can't do that story if Armand has turned Daniel by force and out of spite. Such a storyline not only will not work, but will do the opposite; it will just reinforce the narrative I feel we are about to be presented with about Armand in Season 3 -- that he's a villain, and only ever can be.

And that is a narrative I do NOT think the show is doing, or going to do. And why that is is because --

Sixth: The show is sticking very close to the books. Like, exceedingly so when it comes to character plot points and reveals, more so than I thought it would. I was pretty floored by how close the show is sticking to things from the books, quite frankly. The end of Season 2 surprised me with how closely it matched the end of the first book, with two exceptions, both done clearly to set things up for next season (or be a bow-end on the storyif we really didn't get a Season 3); the first being the bit with Daniel, and the second being that it moved Louis into his post-Merrick state of mind. (I haven't finished reading Prince Lestat yet, but those who have say show!Louis is pretty much at his Prince Lestat at the end of Season 2.)

However, aside from those two things? The show stuck pretty closely to the IWTV book, especially with how it all ended. Armand and Louis break up. Louis and Lestat have -- a later contested -- meeting/reunion after that.

Louis and Lestat, still on a path that will eventually, who knows how many seasons from now, end with their ballroom dance at the end of the final VC book, Blood Communion. Which was foreshadowed during their ballroom dance in Episode 1x07, during Season 1.

The path the show takes to get to those plot points and reveals from the books is different. But, at the end of the day, they don't drastically change any of them. And they do get there, one way or another.

And Armand turning Daniel in any way by force and spite is a drastic f--king change. One that fully alters Armand's story, and the reveal that there is more to him than what is revealed, and we see him do in The Vampire Lestat. A story that reveals there is more trauma, more hurt, more desperation for love and acceptance about Armand and who he is than you, as a reader, ever suspected.

And I do not in any way think the show is going to abandon the reveal that Armand's character/story is more complex than it might first appear. Let alone make him a villain by having villainously turned the character that is and was the first main catalyst for that story.

Because, again, Daniel being turned out of spite and by force, would very much do that.

And so if Daniel, in any way during Season 3, backs up any talk of Armand having turned him out of "spite" -- which, yes, I do think we will hear him do, since it fits too damn well with what we'll see regarding Armand's past self in The Vampire Lestat, as well as the overall narrative of presenting Armand as a villain that I do feel we are set to get in Season 3 -- then, IMO, that will just be one more clue that the person we are seeing, and who Lestat is talking with, won't really be Daniel.

And will just be another clue, IMO, that a body-soul switch has already happened.

- - - -

Now, with all of that said? I don't think Eric will be leaving the show anytime soon. In fact, I still feel he'll be around until at least the end of Season 5 at the very least, or whenever they finish up adapting the Queen of the Damned storyline. (Since, again, Rolin already said they'll probably have the split adapting that book into 2 seasons). Tale of the Body Thief takes place right after Queen of the Damned.

And I think the show is clearly setting up for both already. Again, Rolin already said they've started setting up for Body Thief in Season 2. And, frankly, they were setting up for Queen of the Damned back in Season 1. (The "Those Who Must Be Kept" mention by Lestat, plus the Amel set up in 1x05 as well).

And I think they'll be doing more for both in Season 3 (with the Queen of the Damned setups being much more obvious, along with Amel too, I suspect.) And that comment from Rolin about Lestat's tour being one of the Eastern Seaboard already has me suspecting that the final stop of that tour will be in Miami, Florida. Not just because that is where Night Island is located (and I think that is where Armand took off for after Louis kicked him out of Dubai). But Miami, Florida, is also where QotD ended, and where TotBT begins.

To quote Lestat about it:

A vampire's city-beautiful. Melting hot, teeming, and embracingly hot, marketplace, playground. Where the desperate and the greedy are locked in subversive commerce, and the sky belongs to everyone, and the beach goes on forever; and the lights outshine the heavens, and the sea is as warm as blood. Miami. The happy hunting ground of the devil.

If the show is following the books . . . and by the looks of things, after Season 2, they really, really are . . . then Miami is about to be a new setting for the show, for a bit IMO. Since the next two books in sequence after The Vampire Lestat both end there and then begin there.

Eric has very much achieved his dream of playing a vampire. And, just IMO, I think he will continue to do so all the way through his remaining time on the show, which I really do think will take him through the end of Queen of the Damned, however long/seasons it takes the show to adapt that book.

He's just not really playing Daniel anymore right now, IMO. Because Daniel's soul is somewhere else. In another place, probably in another body (though I have no idea who or what that could be right now, though yes, I do have ideas and speculation, but this post is already super-long as-is). I've thought it since Season 2 first ended, and nothing has really swayed me from thinking that since then.

I always thought a body swap for Daniel's character was in the cards. I just never thought, or even supposed, that it would happen this soon, as the post I linked to at the top of this very long meta/answer to your questions shows. I, too, initially thought it wouldn't happen until Season 5 or so if it did.

And it is one of the reasons I thought turning Daniel at the end of Season 2 was too soon. I thought the show would actually explore Daniel and Armand's relationship more, with Daniel now being older and dying first before he ever got turned, if Armand did turn Daniel when he was still older. But from the little of the timeline we know and what the show has presented about it all -- between the time when Daniel was last in Dubai to the publishing of the book -- there really is no time for such a thing IMO. (And it is just one of the many reasons why, after Season 2, I was always skeptical about a reverse-chase idea.)

The idea that a body switch had already happened, and that it happened at the end of Season 2, I know, is something many people don't think has happened, let alone are looking for to have happened, or even want to have happened.

But over almost a year of time that I've looked at it, more and more things -- for me -- just keep pointing to it having already taken place.

Maybe new info will come out between now and when the show comes back for Season 3 that will have me changing my mind. Maybe something will be shown in Season 3 that will have me change my mind about it. I'm not wedded to all of this, and any big piece of evidence can have me changing my opinion on it.

But right now, for now, everything I see regarding all of this? It points to a body swap having already happened. And that the person we saw at the end of Season 2 wasn't really Daniel -- that the soul in that body was not his. And if I'm right, I think the reveal of it won't be until the final episode of Season 3 and, even then, probably cryptically. And possibly something that will only be revealed to the viewing audience.

Though Armand might already know. Or suspect something is off. And that is why "Daniel" is looking for him. Because Armand knows something that Daniel doesn't want him to let out... or, maybe even more.

So yeah, this is where I am with all of this right now. And if you took the time to read all of this, which is much more than you likely asked for, thank you. 😊

[thegoldencontracts]

AITA For Benevolently Providing My Fellow Students With Study Guides?

I'm posting on a throwaway because I have caught my classmates (It is laughably easy, they love gathering in large spaces and 'whispering' loudly about their schemes) looking through my main account on multiple occasions in a search for blackmail, blathering about "freeing their friends" or "avenging their brother" and whatnot. I apologize in advance if you find my formatting or wording cumbersome.

You see, I(17M) greatly enjoy assisting poor, unfortunate souls with whatever they need. Now, I admit that I have partaken in some rather improper behavior in the past, but I have mended my ways. I fortunately know a fair amount about both magic and my fellow classmate's troubles, and I understand that you wish to laugh with the next part - I use my talents to assist the miserable, lonely, and depressed.

Recently, I have taken to assisting my fellow students who are struggling with their Final exams, in the form of study guide guaranteed to garner them a bare minimum of 90 (and if used with maximum efficiency, a perfect score) if they look over it even once.

However, as the landfolk say, "There's no such thing as a free lunch." I don't charge much for my study guides (entirely legitimate, for your information, designed for maximum efficiency and lawfulness by sifting through the past 100 years worth of test questions), in fact, in many cases, I don't charge anything at all. If they manage to earn a grade rewardable with School-provided merits, then, in fact, I shall reward them by not only waiving the fee, but also, by providing them study guides for the rest of their time at school.

However, if they fail to do so, I ask for compensation in the form of providing me some of their time. They were fully aware of this, in fact, I even gave them the chance to look through my (thaumaturgically binding) contracts for as long as they needed before signing.

Now, Finals have concluded recently, and the merits have been displayed. Now, some people are calling me "a cheat", making such audacious claims as "this is slavery" (it is not, they were compensated for their service and they don't have to be loyal to me for their whole lives) and "You guys should have believed me when I told you that brother-killer was bad news" (I have never killed anyone's brothers, I can assure you of this) and, personally, I don't think I'm the 'A', as reddit calls it.

However, my dorm-mate and employee, F, urged me to ask the internet, his reasoning being "It'd be funny" (his words, not mine) while slacking off of work - he had a shift scheduled, and then he seriously threatened to eat me when I scolded him, so I forced him to kneel until he learned his lesson. I then realized that he didn't have a shift scheduled for that day - he had it scheduled for the day *after* - and that I was apparently mildly delirious from not having slept for three days, so as compensation, I doubled his pay and offered him one wish of choice, which he used to tell me to make this post. For that reason, I humbly ask of you now: Am I in the wrong?

[abcd-adventures]

I'm not sure what this says about me, but my clinical supervision meeting was canceled for this afternoon, but I still put a show on for B and told him he has to have his snack and be in charge of himself for an hour because I have "my meeting" (he knows those meetings are private and he's not allowed to barge in or make a million demands). Annnd, instead of being in that meeting, I'm eating chips and salsa and drinking a margarita and writing this. To be fair, I've already played several games with him since I picked him up from school at noon, and he hasn't had any other screen time...soooo it's not like he's deprived.

I am just TIRED, and I need a few minutes. The pace of life is relentless, and starting next week I'm going to start going to the gym three times a week. I walk every day, and I usually do 15 minutes of yoga or strength every day, but it's not much. And, I'm NOT an evening workout person, but I don't have time in the mornings, so I'm going to have to become one. It's just easier at the gym taking a class. I need someone telling me what to do and the imagined threat of shame and embarrassment if I don't follow those demands. Lol And, maybe I can find a gym community again. I had that for many years and I LOVED it. We even started a gym book club that lasted for years. I miss that! With B still being little, that schedule still isn't really feasible, but the husband and I are going to alternate bedtime duties and we're going to go to the gym on alternating nights while the other is doing bedtime. I'm definitely not in the best shape, and I would like that to improve...so here's hoping I like the classes and find some awesome people to do them with!

I've been having a lot of wins at work...but also some challenges. I can intellectually understand the reasons why someone is lashing out, and in a lot of ways it's actually a significant part of healing if it's handled well...but man, there are days when it can really hurt. I just have to remind myself that there has literally NEVER been a time that sticking with someone and patiently loving them through those moments has not paid off. Many of my favorite clients who I absolutely adore were also mean as sh!t to me when we first started working together. Lol Some days, though, oof, it takes longer to shake off than others.

[midnight1nk]

New year, new arc.

What a way to start 2025, excited SMG4 fans are jumping in their seats. And naturally, theorists are already hard at work looking into the "Hitman" arc. Now, with a couple of episodes and teasers out, let's see if I can take a crack at it.

Though, unfortunately due to new information, a lot of this had to be shortened and rewritten. So, just a fair warning for you all.

Analysis & Predictions for the Hitman Arc

⚠️ DISCLAIMER IN INTRO POST ⚠️

THE TEASERS

Can we talk about the teasers? Let’s talk about the teasers. /ref

There has been some discussion about them, what they mean in the arc, so I do wanna clear some things up before we go on: the teasers and the canon timeline don’t exactly line up with each other, one to one, but the teasers do give clues in what this arc is about.

First off, post scheduling patterns. These can tell us how long the arc will be:

Teasers for full arcs (≥7 episodes) would be posted once every week, near the same day an episode is released right after

Teasers for a mini-arc (like the Meme Factory one) or story changes (building the Castle, 3's Coffee & Bombs) would be posted twice every week, sandwiched between every new episode (therefore more frequent posting)

Second, as I mentioned before, teasers don’t line up with the canon plot, but they're not completely wrong. For example, WOTFI 2024: the teasers told us that the Crew except for Meggy received tickets in the mail to a new carnival in town (later revealed to be Puzzle Park), but in canon, they were personally brought into Puzzle Park by Leggy before being trapped there. Even so, one thing still holds true, that a new carnival is set up and most of the Crew gets invited.

Same thing here for the Hitman Arc! Let’s go through them one by one:

Many fans have picked up on the composition as a one by one reference to the SpongeBob "Kill Everyone" meme (also known as the Magic Conch Shell meme). This was later confirmed by Ben, who has been making the teasers for the Team:

A bit of context behind the meme itself: in the SpongeBob series, there is a purple shell with a sound system attached, referred as the Magic Conch Shell, in which characters plead to the shell for advice/solution to a problem and from pulling the draw string, they believe in whatever the shell answers without question. Here are the some scenes:

Since it’s connected to this one, let’s go over to the next one:

And here is where we connect to the canon timeline that, between “Hobo Mario” and “You Shouldn’t Have Done That”, Mario took the kids as part of the mission given to him. Then, later on it is revealed that the one who gave it was Mr. WPNZ, and Mario did it because he thought the mission would eventually reduce Karen’s stress as a single mother.

This, we learn but don’t you find it strange that in both teasers, Mario is presented as menacing or dazed? Following instructions from a (seemingly random) walkie-talkie in such a state without question, even if it's Mario we're talking about?

You already know the cogs in my theorist brain were working overtime, and indeed, we believed for a while that Mario may have been turned into a sleeper agent. Though it was technically disproven since Mario did it willingly to help Karen, there’s something I can’t put my finger on. It just feels strange. We’ll come back to this. Anyway, up next, the third and fourth teaser posted:

This time, we get Karen’s side, preparing herself to fight and doing whatever it takes to find her kids with help from SMG4.

Now, if the captions taught us anything is that the “speaker” is a character related to the arc (most of the time being 4 reacting to the situation). For the hitman arc, they are 2 voices:

Teaser 1 — the “speaker” is not talking to Mario out of fear but of persuasion, convincing Mario that they’re friendly. Trustworthy. This is the voice of the walkie-talkie since that’s how the mission was given and the device is in the teaser itself, which we now know that is Mr. WPNZ

Teaser 2 — Instead of Mr. WPNZ, the “speaker” switched to another character, based on the name “mario” not capitalized and the confused tone. A contrast to the first teaser’s speaker. This belongs to Karen’s kids. (Difference is they’re confused about Mario standing by the doorway in the teaser while in canon they questioned Mario after they arrived at the warehouse.)

Teaser 3 & 4 — As we learned from “You Shouldn’t Have Done That”, Mr. WPNZ practically bashes on Karen as a mother. It only makes sense that Mr. WPNZ returns as the “speaker”, only this time bashing on her for thinking she can run away from her past as an assassin.

Again, the teasers and the canon timeline aren’t the exact same. But I present this to you now so you can keep this in mind later on. Ok? Coolio 👍

MR. WPNZ & HITMAN INC.

Speaking of, let’s go over what I analyzed about one of the arc’s main antagonist: Mr. WPNZ

The name “WPNZ” sounds more like a code name than an actual one — Sure, none of the names in the universe are considered normal. We got numbers in here for meme’s sake /silly. But it’s more so that the name is strangely written as four letters. At least, SMG turns out to be an abbreviation of “Super Meme Guardian”. If Mr. WPNZ is part of Hitman Inc, then it’ll make sense for him to have a code name. It allows the corporation to dehumanize them so they can be assassins. (Did Karen have a code name too?) ....oh god, why is my gut telling me the Team’s going to pull the Conquest speech meme from Invincible *head in hands*

“I ain’t no liar when it comes to guns, kid.” “I’ll even give ya a target to practice on.” — Obviously skilled with guns and programming but it also confirms that he’s willing to lie and whatever it takes to accomplish his goal.

“Brother’s getting on your nerves? I know that feeling…” — Now, this is up to the viewer whether or not to believe him completely. It could just be another form of manipulation from WPNZ to join in “the game” but it’s also possible that he’s relating to her through shared experiences. So yes, WPNZ could have brothers/siblings.

Well, that’s all set and good. But I’m sure that’s not what you all came for. Ahem. Mr. WPNZ, you are the father

The nickname he calls the kids, “half pints” — Yes, it’s an actual nickname people use but also, a pint of milk = cats stereotypically drink milk. That nickname’s too specific for the Team to use, it’d be weird otherwise.

“Wanna see something cool?” — Somehow (and hopefully I’m not the only one), I got reminded of the “hey! you wanna see something cool?” meme from Puss in Boots 2 movie when I first heard it. Probably the Team didn’t intend to write that BUT if it was, props to them. Because if you knew anything about the movie, it’s about a cat constantly risking his life for his pride and what it means to sacrifice for success: family and love. While Puss in Boots learns a valuable lesson, the same couldn’t be said for Mr. WPNZ, who chose to stay with Hitman Inc. and is willing to lure the kids into the corporation.

“Reckless and chaotic” — this was what Karen describe about the father in “The Fight Of All Time” and I personally think it fits for Mr. WPNZ. He approved of their confrontational attitude after Zack asked “Where’s this bozo who wanted to play minecraft?”, manipulating literal kids to use a gun as a game element or “stress reliever”, or the fact that the target range/game is seen as “a little action”. Uh, red flags here, like hello? It doesn’t matter if this isn’t a real gun or not, it’s still insane to treat it like a toy.

“Who are you calling old? C’mere, ya little idiot!” — It speaks for itself, there’s absolutely no reason why WPNZ would act fatherly toward them other than he really is their father.

Bashing on Karen the whole time — WPNZ has been calling Karen as a boring and strict mom to use as an “uncool” example. Not only that, he’s taking credit for the kids’ skills by saying, “I guess it must be in your blood”.

WPNZ’s yellow and gray subtitles — The subtitles are a very important aspect in the show. Like, for example, the color theory of 3’s subtitles with the shade of blue determining how true he is in what he says. For this part, please to take this with a grain of salt. Usually the subtitle colors are based on the color scheme of each character, but I think it works here, excluding Cory since he only speaks in audio clips. Karen and Zack’s subtitles are shades of green/teal. Katie’s has teal and yellow, naturally because of her appearance. HOWEVER, WPNZ also has yellow in his subtitles. It can be a coincidence, but then again, the existence of a father wasn’t mentioned until recently, giving the Team time to design the father and have the colors picked out intentionally.

But you might be wondering, why now is he looking for his kids and testing their shooting skills? For that, we’re gonna have to talk about the underlying antagonist of this arc: Hitman Inc.

Ever since the corporation’s debut in the “We Must Kill Mario” episode, it’s still a mystery to this day so let’s pick apart every detail we do have!

Known as Karen’s former job, they are a shadow corporation…. literally, the identities of the higher-ups are so secret that they’re seen as shadowy figures. Karen’s boss had to literally use a voice filter on a phone call to Karen, a former employee. Anyway, as businesses like this typically do, they have connections and take special requests from clients. And the biggest mystery of all: their technology.

Somehow, they’re able to control devices remotely → Karen’s phone in “We Must Kill Mario” and the PC computers in “You Shouldn’t Have Done That”

(WPNZ) able to create a portal to teleport the kids somewhere else

This level of tech reminded many fans of Tari & Clench (how they could teleport into video games and have glitch effects) or the portal Mario made in “Mario Teaches Parenting”, but much more sophisticated and advanced.

Then, there’s the walkie-talkie. In the arc's first episode, when Karen tries to create the illusion of the dumpsters as an "exclusive shopping mall, " Mario jumps into one of the bins and finds an ominous walkie-talkie. Mario thinks nothing of it and claims it as his new phone. By the end, as Mario follows along behind Karen and her kids back to their home, the walkie-talkie sparks up with static noise, prompting Mario to pick it up (like an actual phone). We could only hear a muffled voice coming through but we do see Mario's face drastically changing, his face expressionless and his eyes wide open.... before the episode cuts to its usual jolly end credits.

And that right there, my dear fellows, was the start of the sleeper agent theory.

MARIO AND THE SLEEPER AGENT THEORY

Every time I rewind that last scene, something about the static feels familiar. It reminded me a lot of the static/"Please Stand By" noise from Mr Puzzles' TV head in the PV arc, when it lures the Crew in the basement before getting mind controlled ("No TV Make Mario No Okie Dokie") and what caught Mario's attention to the gateway out of said control and back to the real world ("Mr Puzzles' Incredible Game Show Spectacular"). Plus, the same static imagery is seen in the eyes of the Crew as a visual cue that they're under Puzzles' control. The same neutral expression and wide eyes.

Now, am I saying that the person behind the walkie-talkie is Mr Puzzles? No, he isn’t even involved in this arc.

But seeing how this static was used in the mind-controlling process in PV, the walkie-talkie noise could work the same way as a form of hypnotism. I mean, notice what his expression was like in the first two teasers and the start of “You Shouldn’t Have Done That”. He's just expressionless, as if he was being hypnotized.

[*record scratch*]

Except for one thing, right after the walkie-talkie (Mr. WPNZ) invited the kids to play minecraft, this happened:

Did… did that mean Mario did this willingly? Well, it did sound like something Mario would do, always caring for his friends in his own way. Just like Karen in the same episode, he did the wrong things for the right reasons and simply wanted to help relieve her stress as a single mother. I guess this theory’s all for nothing.

… [*another record scratch*]

Hold up, did Mr. WPNZ call Mario... by name? Not only in this episode here but in the first teaser too. When Mario first answered the walkie-talkie, he didn’t introduce himself. He just said "hello there".

Hell, the walkie-talkie found in the dumpster bin by Mario was also strange, it seemed too convenient for him to find it in the first place.

And what about the kids? The kids were there in the warehouse with Mario and were taken away by Mr. WPNZ. How come Mario just noticed they were gone once Karen came in? He was right there, sitting next to them!

This was exactly what was troubling me, this itch I had for the teasers. It was strange, all of it. What was going on?

THE PLAN

In order to fully understand, my dear fellows, it’s time to put the pieces together. But we’re not starting from the first episode of the arc, we have to go back when everything truly started: “We Must Kill Mario”. Here, I created a timeline of events for you to follow along. Be warned that since we don't have all of the information, I had to fill it in with some hypothetical stuff so the narrative will flow:

✧ ahem ✧

Hitman Inc. recruited Karen, possibly late teen to young adult, and both sides got what they wanted:

Karen was a stray at a very young age and had to survive growing up in the streets. Just to live another day (that we all understood from her perspective), she took the offer.

The corporation essentially found a homeless person desperate enough to kill for them. Her name? Not like it mattered. Besides, who’s going to miss her if she dies on the job? She would be put to good use.

Years went by, as Karen trained to become one of the best hitmen the corporation they had, doing whatever it takes to get the mission done. Even if it seemed too extreme. In return, Karen was given food, a bed, and (possibly) a code name. Finally, she had security. Purpose. The corporation may be demanding at times but she couldn’t go against them, they gave her everything after all.

And here is where she got acquainted with Mr WPNZ, a fellow hitman. Perhaps they were simply co-workers or even lovers; whatever they were, they got to know each other quite well. Enough to know for Karen to describe him as “reckless and chaotic”. But then, she turned out to be pregnant.

Was it even planned? How did she react when she found out? No one knows (yet), but this made her question everything. If these kittens were to be born, she would be bringing them to a world of risk and danger. If she kept them, that is. Perhaps in that moment, she opened her eyes for the first time in a while, thawed her cold heart at the idea of becoming a mother. Every task given always had a risk and she was willing to serve for the corporation, but now, she may have found a new purpose to live: for her kids.

She chose to keep her kids. Though the problem still stood, the corporation. Even if the higher-ups let Karen keep her kids at the base, there’s no guarantee she would return to them alive if a job goes wrong. Regardless, they might use them just as they used her. She couldn’t bear with the idea so she quits, revealing to them about her pregnancy. Maybe they warned her that if she leaves, she will be returning to the streets again. Maybe WPNZ didn’t understand her perspective and tried to stopped her. Regardless, she didn’t care and wanted to break all ties from this life. She can figure out on her own.

Indeed she did. Naturally, her children were her life so she gave them the life she never got to have. A home, toys. A childhood. Karen and her family even got some friends that wasn’t affiliated with the corporation. Sure, she had to take multiple jobs to support themselves economically, but it’s worth it. Better than risking her life.

Then, in the episode “We Must Kill Mario”, a phone call came in. Karen didn’t suspect much and answered with “Hello? This is Karen speaking.” Unfortunately for her, she just gave the corporation her name, confirming that it was their former assassin.

“Hello, Karen…”

They were able to connect with Karen after so long via phone call, to propose a mission for her, and in return received information to use against her. Think about it:

Karen reminded them that she quit because of her kids → her boss emphasized how dangerous the target was by bringing in children (like hers) could be killed, into the discussion → Karen finally gave in

Her boss described the target’s appearance bc “apparently [Karen] might know him” and therefore would be close to her → Karen assumed it was Mario, saying his name out loud.

Within that call alone, Hitman Inc. learned several things:

The kids’ existence is confirmed and it wasn’t a ploy for her leaving the corporation

The only thing stopping Karen from doing her job is her kids (and if her kids are involved in her mission, she would have to comply)

Mario was someone close to Karen and her family, trusted, connecting a physical description with a name

Of course, the phone call ended. The episode went on as it did Marty turning out to be the true target and Karen unable to finish the job.

They called her again in episode “The Fight of All Time”, offering her a new job. But once again, she declined, not wanting to be involved in this life. At this point, it was getting annoying, humiliating even. The corporation just lost one of their best hitmen, and Karen’s refusing every time because of her kids. They were the ones who gave her everything, and she is rejecting the conditions she agreed to in the first place? No, they made a deal. She is meant to serve them; she is no position to reject them like this. She has to come back to them in a different way.

So, what do they do? Make her desperate, just as how she was when they first recruited her.

They had connections after all, possibly had a couple of recording devices spying on her as well. They could have her get fired from her many jobs, have businesses reject her job applications. Have her get evicted from the home she worked so hard to get.

But just as how the episode “Hobo Mario” ended, Karen and her family were able to get their home back, thanks to Mr. Monoploy. There was still had a trick up their sleeve. A failsafe in the name of Mario.

After all, from the phone call months ago, they know about Mario’s connection to Karen and are able to know what he looked like based on his physical description. As Mario was known to casually rummage through dumpsters (just as he did in “We Must Kill Mario”), one of their connections planted a walkie-talkie for him to find. Then, when the time came, the corporation sent out the agent closest to Karen, Mr. WPNZ. As to why:

if the corporation took the kids, Karen will no doubt follow after them, right to where they want her to be.

They are pretty secretive when it comes to their identities. There’s a risk to have the boss talk to Mario or the kids without a voice changer. So they send out someone with charm and friendly face.

Mr WPNZ was the father of her kids, so naturally it’ll be easier for the kids to connect with him than the boss. (and ofc WPNZ would know about his kids.)

So, the corporation gave Mr. WPNZ Mario’s name and the mission to give to the red plumber.

“Hey Mario! Buddy..pal.. let’s be friends, huh?”

Now, it’s up to you, the viewer, to make a choice.

Mr. WPNZ was so charming enough that he was able to convince Mario that he could take care of the children for poor Karen. Natural manipulation,

OR, if you want the sleeper agent theory to still live, the static was used as a sound tick to control a part of Mario’s mind. Sure, Mario would be able to think for himself, but this static would make it easier for WPNZ to hypnotize. If you've seen the movie “Now You See Me”, it’s basically the bank robbery scene explained. I’ll leave the clip below:

ah, one of my favorite movies :)

They basically took advantage of Mario’s kind heart and have him take the kids, their Uncle Mario, to the abandoned warehouse where they had already set up the PCs for WPNZ, and the corporation can access remotely. Well, those kids were expecting the minecraft movie, so why not invite them to play the game itself? It is a game kids enjoy anyway.

Mr. WPNZ took care of the rest while Karen’s off trying to find her kids. Besides, even if she isn’t able to be on time, they have earned themselves a few recruits. But first, they have to see their potential. After all, the corporation seeks out specific qualities in its recruits:

if they can do the task “quick and simple” — must be tested for speed, agility, and precision

if they have the guts to accept any task given to them, even if it means they have to go against their own friends and family — to dehumanize them and turn them into cold-blooded killers

That’s exactly why WPNZ convinced them to use firearms and brought out a shooting range as part of their “game”.

the challenge for the most kills in 10 minutes

the target cutouts as enemies — assets used from the game TF2

Minecraft Mario used as an animated target — if they’re willing to “kill” their dear Uncle Mario, something Karen couldn’t do the first time since 4 was there to stop her.

And indeed, both WPNZ and Hitman Inc. learned from this “game”,

Katie — a sharpshooter, though it was harder to convince her to join them

Zack — not afraid to take on a challenge, just as daring as his father and may be the easiest to convince

Cory — the first to go and shoot head-on, without question asked

These kids had potential alright. WPNZ was impressed by their skills, complimenting them as “not bad”, and taking the credit for the kids inheriting these skills from him.

What was Karen thinking? She left the thrill of being an assassin just to become a boring mom? His kids have so much potential to be part of the corporation, to be just like him. All they need is a couple more years of training to become perfect assassins. What was she thinking, that she could just run away from her past and abandoned everything she learned?

WPNZ couldn’t never understand why, more than willing to give his kids up to the corporation. So using the portal technology he could control remotely, he took the kids through the game. To wherever the next part of the plan the corporation had in mind.

Mario? Well, he can take the fall if Karen happens to find him. And, if we’re still on the sleeper agent theory route, Mario wouldn’t notice the kids next to him are gone. Just so they can clean up their tracks.

No doubt Karen’s gonna do whatever it takes to have her kids back, and it means exactly what it is, whatever it takes. Returning to her old self again, being extreme. She’s becoming desperate, bingo.

✧ ...and scene ✧

To where this arc might end, there is a possibility. Hitman Inc. could offer up a deal, either:

Karen gives herself up and returns as an assassin,

OR WPMZ, and by extension the corporation, will take custody of the kids, and they will be trained to become future assassins

Ofc, there’s no guarantee that the kids will be granted their freedom, or that Karen will be able to see her kids again. Then again, because desperation is clouding her judgment, Karen might make a hasty decision and not notice. Well, they haven’t considered several things:

Other than having Mario as a friend, Karen also has SMG4. Just has he did in “We Must Kill Mario”, he will able to ground Karen to a clearer mind. Settle things out between Karen and Mario. 4 is the balance she needs to get her kids back.

Unfortunately, they might underestimated how much a parent could love their children, especially a mother. If you kidnap her children, there might not be another day to live because of Karen.

If, just in case, the corporation isn’t taken down by the end of the mini-arc, Karen would still be out of a job. Sure, she got her home and kids back, but they do need the money. Whether or not the corporations are pulling the strings to ensure she doesn’t.

That’s where 3 comes in.

I know he had a brief moment in one episode, but there are a couple of things that 3 and Karen could relate to each other. Both of them know what it’s like to raise who they consider their children, and how they changed from being the person they used to be. And sometimes, though it’s hard to admit, they need a bit of help. So, if Karen wants to, she could work for 3.

With no risk for her and her family, no involvement with Hitman Inc. But hey, that’s just a theory…

AN SMG4 THEORY

🎶Thanks for dropping by🎶

[foldingfittedsheets]

Reading through the plumpocalypse, I just want to say I hope your first week at your new job is going ok and only improves from here. And Im glad you got rid of the plums. I think you're right that at some point, like the plums falling off the tree, it is no longer the responsibility of any single person to thoughtfully and nutritionally dispose of that many. Sometimes you've done your best and you're just moving on. And you've certainly put in a valiant effort.

Thank youuuuu. Yeah, this is day three of the new/old job. It’s honestly going fine but I’m having to be really chill about scheduling. They’re flying me to Sacramento next week, so I’m losing a day off to go to the airport then staying in a city that’s slated to be in the 100’s that week. This ended up being okay because I was able to leverage that to getting Saturday off to go to the ren fair with some folks.

To that end though I do not have access to the travel app they use, my flight number, or airline. Or the rental car agency they used. They set a meeting yesterday for today at 9:30am- which is before my shift started- to go over the travel.

So my store manager called me yesterday because I’m supposed to mirror his schedule and told me that we’ll just come in early to make it to the meeting. Then the closer called out sick at 2am. Then we learned the meeting had been switched at 8am on the day of to 10:30am. So we were there an hour too early and now needed to be the closers. Kind’ve just a nightmare.

The manager and I are taking now a four hour break before rereporting for duty at 3:30 and I’m so tired. Once I’m through training I need to get a work accommodation to only do four days a week but I don’t want to draw out my training so I’m trying to wait but I’m feeling a bit ragged.

[fmluder24]

Folie a Deux Analysis: Sanism and a Defense of Fox Mulder

Being that the X Files is for the most part, a poorly written show, means that many episodes try to and fail to grasp certain experiences that the audience very possibly has gone through. One of these episodes that gets warped beyond recognition in Fanon is Folie a Deux. As Tumblr would tell it, Mulder violates the trust and consent of the poor little heartbroken, helpless Dana Scully because he’s Evil. For those of us who’ve watched the episode, things are very different.  TW for discussion of mental illness, forced institutionalization and sanism (discrimination against people for mental conditions.)

We can instead see Mulder suffering from what everyone else takes to be delusions, but are actually real threats that others do not have the power to see. Scully is actually very unsupportive, especially compared to how she is with regards to his mental health in episodes like “Demons” and “Biogenesis.” This episode is also especially triggering and relevant to those of us who have been forcibly institutionalized, or, like me, live under the risk of forced institutionalization. I have had psychotic breaks before, which luckily did not get me hospitalized, but there is always the risk with the next one. If you suffer from this type of condition and the concomitant societal stigmas, it is next to impossible to watch the episode and not feel for Mulder. So, no, I’m sorry I don’t give a shit that The Princess had to do an autopsy when Mulder ends the episode being psychologically tortured by a psychiatric nurse.

Scully is not receptive to the fact that Mulder believes he saw some sort of monster while held hostage. Fair enough. It’s her schtick; the one job these bad writers give her.

SCULLY: Mulder, why didn’t you take the day off?

MULDER: Close the door. There was a reason the phrase "hiding in the light" seemed so familiar to me. I found it or variations of it in five other X-Files. "Hiding in plain view" "Hiding in the open" "Lurking in the open." All to describe some sort of manifestation of evil which goes unnoticed be everyone except the claimant in each case.

SCULLY: Have you slept?

MULDER: Seven cities in all dating back ten years. VinylRight has offices within 50 miles of 4 of those cities. Greg Pincus has worked for VinylRight for ten years.

SCULLY: What exactly is it you think you have here?

MULDER: What if Gary Lambert was right?

SCULLY: Mulder, you’re not serious.

This is pretty standard for them. Per usual, she thinks he Is Crazy. He asks her to do an autopsy on the body, which she initially refuses. He does admittedly in a dickish move schedule her to do an autopsy anyway. This is also pretty par for the course for his behavior, heightened though it is by the fact that he is suffering from what appears to be paranoia. While I don’t think it was necessarily nice for him to pull this shit, it is far from the terrible breach of consent and trust the Scully girlies present it as. Especially because, dear readers, she does work under his supervision. It’s very common in the show for him to schedule her day, because he supervises her work. Again, it wasn’t nice, but to weaponize therapy language and especially language around sexual assault to criticize his action, is really absurd. 

Later on in the episode, Mulder is forcibly institutionalized and Scully visits him in the hospital.

(MULDER is strapped down to a hospital bed. SCULLY pushes back the curtain and holds his hand which is strapped to the bed rail. SCULLY looks at him sadly.)

MULDER: Five years together, Scully. You must have seen this coming. (laughs softly) Did you examine Backus’ body? What did you find?

SCULLY: More or less what we thought we’d find.

MULDER: "More or less?" What is that supposed to mean?

SCULLY: The body showed signs of decomposition beyond what we expected to find which, in and of itself means nothing, really. Time of death is notoriously hard to quantify.

MULDER: Or, that Lambert was telling the truth and that man was dead before he was gunned down.

SCULLY: No, Mulder…

MULDER: Scully .. When that monster, Pincus – whatever the hell you want to call it – when he attacked that woman last night he did something to the back of her neck. H-he bit her there, or he injected something in there. There’s got to be evidence of that. You got to check for that.

SCULLY: Mulder, the case is over. There’s no more evidence to be gathered. There’s only my hope that you’ll be able to see past this delusion.

MULDER: (desperate) *You* have to be willing to see.

SCULLY: I wish it were that simple.

MULDER: Scully, you *have* to believe me. Nobody else on this whole damn planet does or ever will. You’re my one in … five billion.

Here he begs her to see what he sees, which admittedly, she cannot and will not do. It is not in her nature to see the world how he does, even though he needs her desperately. She instead, along with Skinner, allows him to be forcibly institutionalized, offering him no support beyond a brief touch of her hand. If you are a person who has been or risks being institutionalized, this portrayal of what a “loved one” does in that situation is really upsetting. 

Then we see the nurse in the ward toying with Mulder’s fears of the monster, whether because she is being controlled by the monster, or because that’s literally what psychiatric professionals like to do to us is, I would argue, somewhat ambiguous. 

MULDER: (trying to sound calm and rational) There is something … there is something at the window and it’s trying to get in here. Please unstrap me so that I can stop it.

NURSE: We’re three floors up. There’s nothing at the window.

MULDER: Undo my straps so I can check.

NURSE: (turning on light) I can show you …

MULDER: No, don’t! No! Just please …! Please.

NURSE: See? (taps closed window) Nothing’s going to get you.

MULDER: Okay. Just, uh … just untie me anyway please.

(NURSE looking spooky unlocks and opens window.)

MULDER: What are you doing?

NURSE: (sounding spooky) You just need some fresh air.

It is just after this that Scully sees sense, saving Mulder from the monster in the nick of time. But even after shooting at the monster while he is restrained, the most she can do is concede that she went temporarily crazy too, rather than give credence to the fact that he saw a real threat. We can never, ever, ever admit a "crazy" person was right!

In these ways, FAD is actually a really fucked up look at MSR’s relationship, at how she continually belittles his perceptions, and even her own if they align with his, all in the pursuit of some warped version of “rationality.” It is very triggering if you have any experiences that align with Mulder’s, to see how “sane” loved ones can leave you vulnerable to institutionalization, a horror show of its own. To warp things so that she is his victim in this episode is detached from the reality of the dynamic of a clinically insane person and their “sane” counterpart who is complicit in their forced institutionalization as it exists in real life and the story. Power dynamics aren't always woman good man bad. Sometimes sanism, religious affiliation, race, money, and other factors come into how we need to analyze a relationship. Here, the sanist society that backs Scully against Mulder is in full force.

Thank you for reading. 

[storiesfromafan]

Moments #1 - Sebastian Sallow

A/N: I started playing Hogwarts Legacy again, and Sebastian still has a hold on me. So I decided to write a little something for him, while still working on my other stuff haha.

Its not perfect, or might not fit into the timeline or the school schedule (?), if that makes sense 😅 But with Valentines Day's next week, I wanted to post some related fics haha. Feel free to request any Valentines fics 😊

I also have a follow up story for this coming out soon 😊

Warning/s: possible spelling/grammer mistakes

All the running around at all hours of the night finally caught up to you and Sebastian. For the previous night, after leaving the Undercroft and both of you were headed back to your rooms, you were found by Professor Sharp. It was a shock to cross paths, for he was the one Professor you didn’t expect to run into the Halls above the Dungeons.

The Professor was almost as surprised as you both, but he had run into his fair share of students over the years. Right away he had given you both a week’s detention with him in the evenings after dinner. With that, you both scurried off, not wanting to get in any more trouble.

It was night three of detention, and there you both sat across the room from each other writing lines while Professor Sharp sat at his desk. You were a little deflated – sad to be missing out on the small festivities for Valentines Day. Throughout Hogwarts this evening groups were giving flowers and candy, maybe even trinkets with more meaning to a special someone. You had watched throughout the day as young women received gifts, but knew many would receive more tonight, when at the small gatherings.

You were a little sad because you hadn’t received a gift today, nor would you tonight, being in detention. Omnis and Sebastian had you briefly speak on your woes earlier today. Both a little surprised for your lack of suitors. Though one of them was relieved that no one had given you any gifts. For he was trying to work up the courage to give you some flowers.

Sebastian had a crush on you. The one person who listened to him, could see his side on matters that Omnis always discouraged or outright disagreed with. When you showered up this year, Sebastian wasn’t so sure on you. But after talking to you, learning about you, he saw something in you that he liked. Maybe it was part of himself. And with time – time around you, it grew to something more.

That was why he wanted to give you flowers, and finally tell you how he felt. But you were both stuck in detention due to wrong place and time the other night. Looking up from under his lashes Sebastian thought it was cute how you were half concentrating on the lines. Noticing how you wriggled your nose, or how you chewed your bottom lip. Not to mention when you took a brief pause, that you would tilt your head in thought, before snapping out of it and getting back to the lines. To him you were adorable.

But the next time you paused, the look on your face was sombre. From a mix of the dreary Dungeons and lack of a Valentine, he thought. If only he had been brave enough to give you flowers earlier, and spoke to you, maybe you would be happier right now. That was when the wheels in Sebastian’s head began to turn, a plan taking form.

You were oblivious to your friend and his thoughts across the room. Though your thoughts were almost parallel to his. Thinking about how you should have spoken up today, finally tell Sebastian how you have a crush on him. Neither knowing it had been the elephant in the room for months now. Though Omnis could see it, and he was blind. Spending time together really shone a light on how alike you both are, and how easy it was to talk to each other. Not to mention when Sebastian smiled – especially at you – it almost had you in a puddle of goo.

There was a darkness to him, but there was one to you too. And you put it down to this ability of yours, seeing Ancient Magic. Or were you just dark all along? You are unsure, and only time would tell which way you would go. But with Sebastian, you wanted the best for him. And would be there at his side for whatever he does or chooses. You had made that decision early on, when he listened to you and wanted to help you with this ability.

Before starting lines, Professor Sharp had you and Sebastian set up the potion stations for his morning class. So you had to make sure the cauldrons were clean, as well as set up racks with various size beakers, which will hold various liquids. It was the next time you paused, looking at the stations set up when it happened. In the tallest, yet not overly wide beaker, did some water begin to form. Swirling into existence, before from that liquid – from small seeds – did something begin to grow.

You looked to the Professor, who had his back to you both now, moved to writing on his blackboard. Looking back to the beaker with mild alarm, what took form set you at ease, even warmed your heart. A beautiful, small bouquet of various flowers sat there in that liquid in the beaker. Your favourite flowers mixed with filler flowers. Reaching a hand out, you touched a petal with your fingertip. It felt soft, like it was still in the ground. But then you looked confused, wondering whom they came from.

Obviously not your Professor, which meant one other person in this room. Looking across the room your gaze met that of Sebastian’s. A warm smile on his face, as he had been watching your reaction to his little conjured gift. Slowly the smile returned to your face, lighting up your face and warming Sebastian from making you happy.

‘Thank you' you mouthed, knowing he would understand.

With his smile growing wider, and a warmth growing on his cheeks, Sebastian waved it off playfully. Glad to have lifted your spirits. And encouraging him to next time tell you exactly how he felt. Even if you thought he did it as a friend, he very much wanted to be more then that with you...

[lild00td00t]

Hi!! First, I love your work. Especially for the Marines.

Second I saw requests were open so I decided to shoot my shot.

Admirals (any admiral you want to write for) trying to get their s/o to return Sengoku’s goat, like reader of fed up not getting cuddles from their busy admiral partner so has stolen the goat for cuddles and is refusing to give it back.

I just thought it was a cute idea. And now that I think about it I can’t remember the name of Sengoku’s goat.

Anyway, you are amazing, stay hydrated and I hope you have a nice day.

Marine Admirals React to You Harboring Sengoku’s Goat

Characters: Akainu, Kizaru, Fujitora

Taglist: @portalzoneschaos

This was so adorable to think about, I hope it wrote it right though. Thank you so much for being here and requesting, Have a nice day and be safe. <3

Akainu | Sakazuki

• At first he would disregard your reasoning behind stealing Sengokus goat, his first instinct is to chide you and get you to return it but much to his surprise, you don’t listen, and simply turn away to coddle the animal closer to you.

“ I said you need to give it back. “

You could feel heat of his devil fruit begin to fill the room at your refusal of his command. He stood with arms folded over his chest, the tightness of his teeth clenching together creating a grating noise.

“ And I said no! Just because you don’t get lonely doesn’t mean I don’t! “ The brash tone of your voice as you asserted yourself shocked him, and briefly his brows unfurled before he knelt down. He was silent, watching as you hid your face and only held the animal closer and coiled into a tight ball on your bed.

“ Use your words. Tell me what’s wrong. “ He spoke in a firm tone, but you knew he was trying to decode your behavior. Sometimes he was just emotionally constipated..

“ I’m lonely. You’re always gone and.. I miss you. “ Your tone dropped at the end and transitioned to a mumble, barely audible which made his frown deepen. You fought not to make eye contact when he didn’t respond, but got sidetracked when his hand softly pushed through your locks as he leaned down to leave a kiss.

“ I know I don’t have much time on my hands. There’s not much I can do about it. So how can I fix it? “ He sat attentively in front of you now, legs crossed and hands resting on his knees as he watched you sit up.

“Well.. maybe you could make allotted times to call me.. I miss your voice a lot.” You timidly spoke as your hands fidgeted at the request, bracing yourself for another excuse only for him to briefly nod.

“ I’ll look at my schedule and work it in. That way, it’s not impacting work and we have some form of time together. Is that fair ? “

“ … Yes. “

“ Good…. Now please get the goat off of our bed and out of the house. “

Kizaru | Borsalino

• Gets jealous of the goat-

• He would profusely apologize to you for being so busy, and obviously he would feel alittle guilty, but his Justice means that when he’s told to do something he does it. So in many ways work comes first, however….. he offers you something to help ease your anxiety about being alone.. ;)

The house was dark as usual when Kizaru slipped in, his coat slung over his shoulder and hand grazing the back of his neck as he rubbed it in fatigue. He almost managed to sit on you until a warning bleat startled him from his thoughts, and you from your slumber.

“ Shh !! “ You soothed the goat, rubbing its neck as you looked up to the source of its panic. Kizaru stood motionless, sighing deeply as he pushed the glasses back up that slipped to the tip of his nose from gazing down at you.

“ Why is there a goat on the couch? “

“ Because he was wandering around and looked lonely, and he pays more attention to me then you do. “ You muttered the last part, smiling when Kizarus hand playfully ruffled your hair.

He took a seat beside you, his smile growing when you curled into his side and hugged him, relieved at finally getting to feel him next to you. When you did manage to get attention it was in the later hours of the night, only to wake up again to the vacant spot next to you in the early mornings. It wasn’t easy being an Admirals spouse, in fact it was alittle lonely at times. But there were tid bits of moments where you were inseparable, and all you could do was appreciate each others presence.

This was one of them.

“ I miss you so much throughout the day. It’s so.. lonely here, the house is huge and it feels like I’m just some tiny bug.. “ A sigh breezed past your lips and you leaned into the warmth of his shoulder as he hummed in response, wrapping an arm around you as he leaned in to kiss your head.

He remained silent, his hand absentmindedly stroking your hair until he spoke.

“ … I could always get you pregnant- “

“ BORSALINO ? “ You shouted in confusion and astonishment, immediately pulling away which had startled the goat who bolted from the couch. A low, sultry chuckle escaped his lips as he rested his head on the back of the couch agian and closed his eyes, spreading his wing span along the top of the furniture.

“ Just a thought.. “

Fujitora | Issho

• I feel he would honestly be alittle sad that he let you get so lonely, his poor heart would break at the thought of you feeling so alone that you needed to focus your attention on something else.

• His solution would most likely be buying a pet <3

When he arrived home he noted how quiet it was while slipping his shoes off. As he traveled deeper into your home he heard you stifle a small sniffle, which immediately broke his heart in two.

“ Oh my poor dear, “ He reached out to touch you only to feel horns and a soft furry face that began to snuff at his fingers. You couldn’t help but laugh when he retracted quickly, his eyes opening with a visibly disturbed look appearing on his face.

When you made room for him to sit he instead pulled you into his lap and cupped your face. The feeling of the course pads of his thumbs running along your cheeks made them flush and you unconsciously leaned into his touch, tears subconsciously falling and collecting on his hands.

“ Poor thing.. I know I haven’t been home in so long.. how did you even manage to get uh… did you get a pet ? “

“ It’s Sengokus goat.. I’m not gonna give it back until you promise me I won’t be lonely anymore.. “ You shakily spoke, eyes still closed as he leaned in to kiss your forehead and wipe the tears that flowed away.

“ … Well.. I can’t guarantee that you won’t have moments alone.. So how about this, let’s go buy a pet. That way, when I’m away, you have someone to wait with. “

“ Any pet I want ? “

“ Any pet you want… just not Sengoku’s. “