#and have probably missed one or two who knows

[xo100]

Coming home - LN4

*:･ﾟ Summary/request: by anon; ‘y/n drunk in a club and calling lando to pick her up 🙈 him being patient and gentle 🫶🏼 thank you!!!’

*:･ﾟ Word count: 2214

୨ৎ

It had been a quiet evening for Lando Norris. The kind of evening he loved, where the house was filled with the gentle hum of the TV, and the warmth of home comforted him after a long day. He’d spent most of his time winding down, his thoughts often drifting to his girlfriend, who had texted him earlier in the day, saying she’d be out with friends tonight.

“You have fun,” he had told her with a smile before she left, his hands gently resting on her hips as he gave her a kiss goodbye.

She never went out too often—mostly a homebody unlike him—so he had encouraged her to enjoy herself, to have a night of fun and laughter, with drinks if she felt like it. He knew she didn’t really drink much, maybe a cocktail here or there, but nothing excessive. She had always been mindful, careful, but tonight seemed a little different.

-

It was around midnight when Lando's phone buzzed.

At first, he didn’t think much of it. He figured it would be one of those casual updates, maybe a quick check-in to let him know she was alright. But when he glanced at the screen, the sight of her name at the top of the message thread made him pause, and the message itself made him frown slightly in confusion.

“I’msogldmkgoig,” the text read. He blinked, squinting at the screen.

Lando tilted his head, trying to decipher the meaning of the garbled message. Was she typing in some kind of code? Then it hit him—a small smile tugged at his lips. She was drunk. Really drunk.

Shaking his head with a soft chuckle, he swiped open his phone, his thumbs moving quickly over the screen.

“Hey, you okay? Need me to pick you up?”

It took a minute or two for a response to come in, and when it did, it was no clearer than the first.

“nnoOOO immmmperf!!! ssssgood igot this!!! 😊😊😊”

Lando laughed under his breath, a fond smile settling on his face. He could just imagine her sitting at a table with her friends, holding her phone up way too close to her face, squinting at the keyboard as she tried to string a sentence together. She always got flustered when her texts came out wrong, even more so when she had a bit too much to drink.

He tried calling her, but it rang for a moment before she declined it. Another message popped up.

“ssorryyyyy busyy having fun witt gurls!! 🎉🍹”

Lando raised an eyebrow. He knew her friends, and he had no doubt they were looking after her, but it was clear she was teetering on the edge of tipsy and downright hammered.

A part of him wanted to laugh at the situation, but the protective part of him nudged forward. He’d rather her be home and safe than out and struggling to figure out how to text properly.

After sending her another message asking if she needed help, he waited, watching the dots of her typing bubble appear and disappear before another string of incomprehensible words filled the chat.

Then, finally, she called him.

Her name flashed across the screen, and Lando answered quickly.

“Hiiiii,” she sang into the phone, her voice bright but undeniably slurred.

“Hey, love,” Lando said softly, leaning back on the couch, the smile in his voice impossible to miss. “You doing okay over there?”

There was a brief pause on the other end, a bit of shuffling and background noise as her friends laughed and chatted around her. “Mmmm, I think soooo,” she said, dragging out the words. “But Landoooo, guess what?”

“What?” Lando humored her, knowing she probably had no idea where this conversation was going.

“I miss youuuu,” she said with a giggle, her voice softening with an endearing whine. “Like, really, really miss you.”

Lando’s heart did a little flip, warmth spreading in his chest. “I miss you too,” he replied, his voice dropping into that gentle, affectionate tone he used whenever they were being sweet with each other. “How about I come pick you up, hmm? I think it’s time to get you home.”

There was another pause, and he could hear the muffled sound of her friends in the background again, likely checking in on her. Then she whispered into the phone, as if telling him the world’s biggest secret, “Okay… but don’t tell anyone… I’m a little drunk.”

Lando chuckled, shaking his head fondly. “You don’t say.”

“But I’m not… that drunk,” she continued, her words tumbling over each other. “Just… a little.”

“Sure, babe,” Lando said playfully, standing up from the couch and grabbing his keys. “I’ll be there in a bit, alright? Stay with your friends. I’m on my way.”

“‘Kayyy,” she sighed, clearly relieved. “Lando?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re the best,” she whispered, her voice filled with a drunken sincerity that made Lando’s chest tighten in the best way.

He grinned, shaking his head again as he headed out the door. “You’re not too bad yourself, love.”

-

The drive to the bar wasn’t long. Lando had been there with her and her friends before, and he knew the route by heart. As he pulled up, his eyes immediately scanned the front of the building, and sure enough, he spotted her standing with a few of her friends near the curb, her posture relaxed but a little wobbly. She was laughing at something one of them had said, her phone clutched in one hand, her jacket loosely draped over her shoulders.

Lando parked and stepped out of the car, his eyes softening as they landed on her. She looked up and saw him, her face lighting up in a way that made his heart skip. She immediately broke into a wide, tipsy grin, her eyes sparkling as she waved enthusiastically.

“Landooo!” she called, drawing out his name in that adorable, exaggerated way she always did when she was happy to see him.

He chuckled, making his way over to her, his hands slipping into his pockets as he approached. “Hey, you,” he greeted, his voice warm and teasing.

She stumbled slightly as she moved toward him, but he was quick to catch her, his hands gently wrapping around her waist to steady her. “Careful, love,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head.

Her arms looped around his neck as she looked up at him, her eyes a little glassy but full of affection. “You came,” she said, her voice softer now, as if the reality of him being there had just hit her.

“Of course I did,” he replied, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. “I wasn’t gonna leave you here drunk and texting me gibberish all night.”

She giggled, her cheeks flushing. “I wasn’t texting gibberish!”

Lando raised an eyebrow, pulling out his phone and holding up her messages for her to see. “You sure about that?”

She squinted at the screen, her face scrunching up in concentration before she groaned, burying her face in his chest. “Okay, maybe a little gibberish,” she mumbled.

He laughed softly, wrapping his arms around her a little tighter. “Come on, let’s get you home.”

She let out a dramatic sigh, looking up at him with wide, playful eyes. “But I was having funnn,” she whined, though the smile tugging at her lips told him she was more than happy to go with him.

“I’m sure you were,” Lando said with a smirk. “But you’ll have more fun when you’re not regretting all those drinks tomorrow.”

She pouted up at him for a moment before her expression softened, her hand coming up to gently cup his cheek. “You’re so good to me,” she whispered, her voice carrying that drunken tenderness again.

Lando’s heart melted at her words, and he leaned down to kiss her softly, his lips brushing against hers with all the love and patience in the world. “Only because you’re worth it,” he murmured against her lips before pulling back slightly. “Come on, let’s get you in the car.”

-

The drive home was quiet, her head resting against the window as the streetlights flickered by. Every now and then, she’d glance over at him, her eyes soft and full of affection. He’d catch her staring and smile, reaching over to squeeze her hand gently, his thumb brushing over her knuckles in soothing circles.

“You’re really cute, you know that?” she said suddenly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Lando laughed softly. “Am I?”

“Mhm,” she hummed, her eyes drifting shut as she leaned back into the seat. “Really, really cute.”

He shook his head, the fondness in his chest swelling as he stole a glance at her. “You’re something else.”

By the time they got home, she was half-asleep, her body heavy with the exhaustion that always seemed to follow a night of drinking. Lando parked the car and got out, walking over to her side and opening the door. She stirred slightly, her eyes blinking open as he reached out a hand to help her up.

“You okay to walk?” he asked gently.

She nodded, though her movements were slow and sleepy. He wrapped an arm around her waist, guiding her out of the car as she leaned into him for support. Her head rested against his shoulder, and a small, content sigh escaped her lips as they made their way toward the house.

Lando unlocked the door and led her inside, his grip gentle but firm. She stumbled a little on her way through the doorway, giggling at her own clumsiness.

“You’re like my knight in shining armor,” she slurred playfully, looking up at him with a soft smile as they stood in the entryway. “Except you drive a McLaren instead of a horse.”

Lando chuckled, rolling his eyes in amusement. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

She nodded, her head resting back on his shoulder as they made their way down the hallway to their bedroom. “It’s totally a compliment,” she mumbled, her voice getting quieter with each word. “You’re perfect.”

They reached the bed, and Lando helped her sit down, carefully slipping off her shoes. “Alright, love,” he said softly, “let's get you into something more comfortable.”

She whined in protest, her arms going limp as she dramatically fell back onto the bed, her legs still dangling off the edge. “But I’m already sooo comfy,” she groaned.

Lando smirked, shaking his head. “You’re ridiculous,” he muttered affectionately as he knelt down to take her shoes off. Then he stood, heading to the closet to grab one of his oversized hoodies—one she always liked to wear—and brought it back to her.

With a bit of gentle coaxing, he helped her change out of her clothes, into the soft hoodie that smelled faintly of him. She sighed in contentment, snuggling into the fabric as soon as it was on.

“There you go,” he whispered, brushing her hair back from her face. “All cozy.”

She smiled sleepily at him, her eyes half-lidded as she gazed up at him. “Lando?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

The words came out soft and vulnerable, almost like a confession. Even though she was drunk, there was a deep sincerity in her voice that made his heart ache in the best way. He leaned down, pressing a kiss to her forehead before resting his own forehead against hers.

“I love you too” he murmured, his voice filled with all the affection he’d been holding onto since the moment she had called him. “So much.”

She smiled, her eyes fluttering closed as she snuggled deeper into the blankets. “You’re the best boyfriend ever,” she mumbled, her words slurring together as sleep started to claim her.

Lando stayed there for a moment, just watching her, his heart swelling with warmth. He could see the way her breathing slowed, her body relaxing completely as she drifted off to sleep. Even in her drunken state, she was still the girl he adored—the one who made him laugh, who always knew how to make him smile, and who filled his life with more joy than he ever thought possible.

He stood up slowly, making sure she was tucked in before he changed into his own clothes for the night. Sliding into bed next to her, he wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her close. She instinctively moved toward him, her body curling into his as she sighed in contentment.

Lando pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head, his fingers gently brushing through her hair as he whispered, “Goodnight, love.”

And as she slept peacefully in his arms, he couldn’t help but smile, his heart full. Because nights like this—where he could be there for her, take care of her, and remind her just how much he loved her—were the ones that made everything worth it.

She might have been a little too drunk tonight, but to Lando, she was perfect in every way. And as they lay there, tangled together in the quiet comfort of their home, he knew he wouldn’t trade a single moment of it for the world.

୨ৎ

*:･ﾟ Notes; Hey anon! I hope you enjoyed it and that this was what you had in mind! If not let me know so I can change things! Enjoy it, love! I’m also currently working on part 3 of baking cookies, coming online soon!

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

Guardian Angel

CW: Stalking, people breaking into your apartment (Arkham Knight and others), people brushing off an obvious issue, and violence. Be warned, there are no angels in Gotham. ~2.2k words

You have a stalker. Probably. Maybe. If you do, they're so good at covering their tracks that you're starting to believe you're just paranoid.

But it's the odd events, the trinkets moved slightly out of place, that have you checking over your shoulder.

There wasn't even any evidence at first. Your day had been completely normal. All you were doing was cooking dinner, when your nerves went on end, and goosebumps rose on your skin. The feeling of being watched, of being prey set in.

It didn't make sense, didn't have a reason, but you closed your curtains and triple checked your locks nonetheless. (The bat you keep by your bed slept next to you that night)

You would have forgotten about the incident entirely if, a week later, the same feeling crept up your spine while you walked home. You'd never walked faster to get to your building. You'd practically sprinted up the stairs to your apartment, and slammed to the door behind you.

Even within your home, it took almost the whole night for the feeling to fade.

Two times could be a coincidence, but then things started getting stranger.

You could have sworn you left your keys on the counter the night before, so why, why did you find them on the coffee table?

It makes you uneasy, almost sick, but you're already late to work. So you do the only thing you can, you brush it off.

Until it happens. A thing you can't brush off.

You knew you had used the last of the sugar yesterday. Knew it because you had made a mental note to pick some up the next time you went to the store.

But there's sugar. It's not a lot. Just enough to get you through a few days. Enough to make you think you might have just missed the last of it.

You know you're right. You know you were out of sugar and even if your coworkers laugh and tell you to get more sleep, that having an angel that refills your sugar can't be that bad, you know someone's been in your apartment.

You set traps, set cameras, get your locks changed, take note of everything. You don't get any evidence.

But you notice that your window doesn't squeak anymore when you open it. Your shower doesn't rattle when you go to start it. Your oven actually heats up to the temperature you set it to.

It's been like this for months now. And you're starting to believe that Gotham does have its own set of angels that go around trying to make your life a little easier.

That is until, you meet him.

You'd been unlucky. Gotten grabbed and dragged into the alley by your apartment by some haggard looking man waving a gun. It wasn't the first time you'd been mugged in Gotham, and you doubted it would be the last.

You had reluctantly pulled your wallet and phone out of your pockets and handed them off when an armored-clad person dropped between the gun and you.

At first, it was a relief. Being saved by Batman or Nightwing is practically a rite of passage in Gotham.

But then you watched the would-be mugger hit the ground with a sickening crunch of his arm. Then you watched your savior turn to face you, and you knew it was him.

You didn't have an explanation, you didn't have proof. You'd never even seen a glimpse of the helmet that hid his face before. But you knew. He's the one that's been following you. He's the one that's been in your home.

No amount of good deeds can overshadow how violating it feels, to know he's been watching you, observing you, doing things for you. You instinctively step back.

He only matches the distance you tried to create with a step of his own.

"Who are you? What do you want," You snap, sounding braver than you feel.

He doesn't answer at first, just tilts his head like he's studying you. You think it might be because he's never seen you think close before.

"I saved you," he says instead, completely avoiding your question. You wonder if he's expecting to be treated like a hero, if he's looking for your praise. It makes your stomach churn.

"You've been following you. You're the one who's been in my apartment," You protest, eyes darting.

You half expect someone to come help you. With the way he's dressed, with how he's carrying himself, he has to be some kind of new villian you missed on the news.

He straightens out at your accusation, "Have I?"

You almost falter, almost do chalk it up to paranoia, but you just knew. Every fiber of your being knows, "Yes," You breathe out instead, "You have."

He nods slowly, then turns his back to you. A part of you wants to run, to try and escape and scream and get as far away from the man who feels like he could make you disappear without a trace.

He bends down and scoops up your phone and wallet before turning back to you. You freeze when he walks closer, each step steady and measured, then extends your belongings to you. Your hand shakes when you snatch at them.

You half expect him to yank them away, to make you beg, but he doesn't. He only keeps his grip tight on them, forcing you to be connected while you tug helpless at your things.

He watches you with his head slightly cocked before speaking again, "And if I have?"

He's easy, robotic cadence makes your blood grow cold, "Then you should stop," You retort, voice as cold as your veins.

"And if I won't," he prompts, finally releasing his hold on your things.

"I'll go to the police," You threaten, stuffing your wallet and phone back into your pockets.

"They can't help you," he warns. It makes you uneasy, that he makes no attempt to keep space between you. Even if his body language doesn't seem dangerous, everything else about him does.

"They can contact Batman," You try instead.

He laughs. It sounds humorless, empty, "He can't help you either."

You lose your nerve then, when he pats your cheek, and the guns holstered to his side seem to glint at you. "Get home," he tells you, and it makes you feel like you're some kind of pet.

And then he's gone, leaving you to an alley empty of anything, save for you and the mugger crumpled to the ground. All you can do is go home. Sleep doesn't come for you that night.

He's sloppy, now that he knows you know. You can tell it's on purpose.

Flashes of glowing blue outside your window, your things carelessly shifted about your apartment, the broken fan that hasn't worked since you moved in left on and spinning when you come home from work.

The only place he hasn't seemed to touch is your bedroom. You're not sure if it's because he's showing some slightest form of respect or if he's simply too good at hiding his tracks for you to notice.

Both options make you feel anxious, and you constantly comb over your things for proof of his presence.

You rack your brain over it, lose sleep over it, but you can't come up with one idea of who he is and why he's doing this.

There's nothing on him in the news, nothing on the internet, not even a whisper on the streets.

It feels like it's all one big, sick game to him when your favorite flowers start showing up at your door, when your gas tank fills itself.

When you tell your coworkers, in a near panic, about your rent being mysteriously paid, they tell you it's harmless, it's kind of sweet, really.

Shouldn't you just be grateful that someone's doing all that for you? Shouldn't you be thankful to have an angel looking out for you in this city?

But you know it's not harmless. You know he's capable of so much more. You know he's no angel.

The sound of the mugger's arm snapping still haunts you.

But you don't know what to do. You're stuck, on edge, and slowly coming to terms with having to live like this forever.

That is, until your bad luck seems to get even worse. You were in your pajamas, already half asleep as you're lounging on your couch, when your world gets thrown into chaos.

There's a click in your apartment door's lock, and you have the terrifying realization that tonight's the one night you'd forgotten to throw the deadbolt.

"I told ya I could get the keys to this floor. And barely anybody lives in this building afta what happen ta Murphy," the heavy Gotham accent fills your apartment and three men file into your living room like they own it.

They freeze when they see you, and you don't hesitate to sprint for your fire escape.

You've just managed to throw your window open when one of them grabs you around the middle and hauls you back, throwing you to the floor. Your head knocks against the ground, and everything spins.

You think you whimper as they start bickering. "You said no one would be here!"

"They weren't supposed ta be! It's all supposed ta be empty," one of them snaps back. It only makes your head pound and your vision swim.

You try to push yourself off the floor, but a boot lands at the center of your back and forces you back to the ground, "We have to kill them."

Murmurs of reluctance fill the room, and for a second, you think you'll get to live.

"They saw our faces," You hear the telltale sound of a gun clicking off its safety, "I'll do it."

You flinch with the shot sounds, but no more pain comes. The weight comes off your back, and a body collapses to the floor next to you.

You lift your head just enough to see a familiar blur of blue charge at the remaining two men.

It's not so much of a fight as it is an execution. It's a struggle to keep your eyes open, but anything you can't see you can hear.

There's no mercy in his actions, all wrath and fury, and you want to laugh because, in a way, he is your guardian angel. An avenging angel, pummeling the people who threatened you into something unrecognizable.

You're sure how long it lasts, how long you hear his fists connect to their flesh. But eventually, your apartment goes quiet. The sound of fabric shuffling reaches your ears, and calloused hands carefully help you move until you're sitting up.

Warm palms press to your face you realize he's taken his gloves off. You force your eyes to open, morbidly curious if he's removed his helmet, too. You're not sure why you're disappointed he hasn't.

"Saved me again," You mumble, words almost slurring.

"You're not safe here," he says softly, and his thumb runs over your cheek like he's trying to comfort you.

"They didn't think anyone lived here," You supply, but he apparently doesn't find that very reassuring.

"Let's get you out here," he says instead, and you blame it on your head injury for being impressed at how he doesn't show any signs of struggling when he picks you up and cradles you to his chest.

"Don't have anywhere to go," you say weakly, mentally trying to do the math on how much a safe hotel would cost at this time of night.

The moonlight seems to give his helmet an odd shine as you stare hazily at him. It almost looks like a halo.

"I have a place," he tells you, already carrying you out of your apartment window.

That snaps you out of your thoughts. It makes you frown, even in your dazed state, you know you don't want to go with him. That even with the trick of the light, he's no angel.

You start to squirm, "No– no, wait–"

"You need somewhere safe to recover," he says, and he doesn't seem to notice your fidgeting. Your heart leaps to your throat, at how securely he's holding you. With anyone else, it would have felt like a promise of protection.

"I don't trust you, you're not safe," You stumble out, head growing heavy with each step he takes from your apartment.

"No one's safe. But I don't have any plans on hurting you," he murmurs, seemingly more occupied with getting you to wherever he's planning to take you.

"But you could," You exhale out, and your voice sounds weak even to yourself.

That makes him pause, and his helmet tips as if he's focusing on you, "Maybe, but I wouldn't like it."

You want to argue more, demand he set you down. But your brain feels so foggy, and you're so tired and drained that your head just kind of finds itself on his shoulder.

"You can sleep," he says, and your eyes fall shut at how soft he sounds, "I'll keep watch."

You really do want to protest, but his shoulder is surprisingly comfortable. You can't help but think, as you drift off, that your angel might have fallen far lower than you can handle.

[yohanseyebrowmole]

Indelible | Jacaerys Velaryon

(adj. impossible to erase or forget)

Pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x fem!reader

Sum: Jacaerys realises he should have listened to you and told everyone about the two of you too late...

Or was it too late?

or in which

Jacaerys breaks up with you two years after secretly dating you, and you get wind of his potential engagement to your cousin the heir to your family's company.

Word count: 3,692 (give or take:/ I edited it and wasn't bothered to recheck the wc)

Warnings: idk nothing much. I tried to avoid using y/n but ended up using it like thrice (I think)

a/n: Reader's mother is the second child of a huge businessman and took on her husband's name upon marriage, but has business ties (her maiden name is Dayne but its not a big deal). Reader's father is a well-respected lawyer but it's not relevant. Jace is heir to the Targaryen family business. He's a little slow and doesn't connect dots until later on lol.

───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────────

☆ Loving Jacaerys Velaryon was easy.

Keeping the fact that you loved him a secret was the hard part.

Two years.

For two years, you loved Jacaerys, and now you are hearing that his family was actively trying to set him up with your cousin.

What’s worse is that it makes perfect sense for them to get together.

Jacaerys is set to inherit the family company from his mother and your cousin is set to inherit your family's company from your uncle.

Why did he want to keep your relationship a secret in the first place? You didn't know, but you respected his decision nonetheless.

But two years of not being able to tell anyone?

You wanted to tell your parents and your older brother, you wanted to gossip with said cousin about your relationship, but Jace remained steadfast in his decision not to tell anyone.

He probably got fed up with you asking to become public and broke up with you, at least that was what you originally thought.

Two years of dates and I love you's gone just like that, all because Jace wanted to keep your relationship a secret and you were tired of not being able to tell anyone.

You had no interest in your mother's family company to be honest. No care for business or the likes, your interest is and will always lay within anthropology.

You loved it.

It was the perfect balance of history, science and mystery and everyone who knew you knew how much you loved a good mystery.

You loved the drama and the slight chaos whenever you got called in, and they say they found a body and having to find out what happened to it.

What was their story? What were they like? What was their life like? How did they end up like this?

Sometimes, it was a simple burial. Sometimes, it was an accidental death.

The murders were always the most interesting.

Of course, as an intern, you were usually not always assigned to the murder cases, but you always accepted any that came your way.

You loved the hunt, your curiosity always getting the best of you and the sense of relief, pride and justice that filled you once you found the identity of who was lying in front of you and who was responsible for it was always worth it.

You loved finding clues that helped catch the one responsible for the person's death, and being able to give families closure after their loved ones went missing was rewarding to you.

Yes, it was confronting and disgusting at times like the time a body was found at the landfill and you had to sift through weeks of rubbish to find missing bones (you were sure you would never be able to smell anything other than rotten food ever again) but you loved it regardless.

───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────────

You were once again sitting in the library at your corner.

It was one of your favourite spots on campus.

The window provided a perfect distraction when she needed a little break from her work. It was far enough from the other tables that no one bothered her but close enough that she could watch people go about their day when she was bored.

The shelfs also obscured their line of view of the table giving you privacy was always an added bonus. 

“Having fun, pretty girl?”

You blink, shifting your gaze away from the window where you had been watching what seemed to be a very heated fight between a couple. You smile at your boyfriend. 

“Hey,” You said. “You're here earlier than normal.”

Jace sits down next to you, letting his bag drop from his shoulder onto the floor.

“Finished early.”

“You look tired,” you said, taking note of the light dark circles under his eyes. 

“Cause I am,” Jace groans, leaning into you. He practically shoves his face into the crook of your neck.

You shift sideways so he can rest his head comfortably and run your hand through his hair gently undoing any notes made from the wind outside.

“You should go home and sleep if you're tired, Jace.”

“Don’t wanna,” Jacaerys responds, not bothering to move his head from the crook of your neck. “Just wanna be here with you.”

You can’t help the upward tug of your lips.

“Careful Velaryon, someone might assume that you're obsessed with me.”

Jace huffs out a laugh, finally lifting his head and sitting back. 

“They would assume correctly. What are you doing later?”

“I don’t know,” You shrug. “But it seems like you know what I’m going to do.”

Jace grins, grabbing his bag from the floor and digging around it before pulling out two tickets. “You are going to go visit that new exhibit at the museum with me.”

“You got tickets?" You can't hide your excitement. "How? I tried getting them for weeks but they were sold out, I even asked mum if she could pull some strings.”

“A magician never reveals his secrets,” Jace smiles. "You were going to ask your mum to get you tickets?"

You shrug lightly, grabbing the tickets from him, inspecting them before you all but throw yourself at him, hugging him. You pull away but grab one of his hands intertwining your fingers with his. 

Jace nods along to your random facts about Egyptian history as he watches your eyes light up as you giggle and ramble on about the exhibit, squeezing your hand, bringing it up to his lip and kissing the back of it. 

You barely react to the affection, already gotten used to the gestures and continue talking about Ramesses the great and his military accomplishments.

───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────────

Your first thought was that it was your fault.

Clearly, you must have done something wrong for Jace to break up with you.

You rack your brains for weeks afterwards to try and figure out what you've done wrong, but as you sit there in your little corner of the library, you realise you've done absolutely nothing wrong.

So then you wonder, why would he break up with you?

Was it because you brought up the fact of a public relationship more often than not these days? Did he suddenly think you weren’t pretty enough? Or were you and your random rants now annoying to him?

The tip of the pencil you had been using to draw snaps.

You thought it would be easy to get over him. After all no one knew you two were together so you weren't getting constant pity glances.

Turns out it was harder. Way harder.

You didn't have anyone to rant to, no one to lean on or cry to and you were practically at the end of your patience, about to call your brother and spill everything to him when you heard someone call your name.

"Oh my god finally!"

You turn only to be met with your best friend Baela, who coincidentally was also Jace's cousin. You smile at her, forcing yourself to push your previous thoughts to the back of your mind.

"What's got you so excited?" You ask her.

She plops down on the seat next to you.

“Why are you so hard to find?”

You laugh. “I’m always here Baela. You know that.”

She rolls her hands before leaning forward. You notice the glint in her eyes. Mischief. Her eyes were basically the same as Jace’s aside from the colour difference.

“It’s Jace,” she said. “Mum told me that Aunt Rhae was trying to set him up with Elise Dayne.”

You freeze slightly. “What?”

“I know! I was shocked as well!” Baela smiles, not realising the bombshell she had just dropped on you. 

“Elise Dayne?”

Baela nods and rambles on about how she had seen Elise and Jace on a date the other day and how cute they had looked together. You smile and nod along but all you can think about was this was why he broke up with you.

Baela leaves to go to class but only after after telling you everything.

She leaves and you sit there for what felt like hours trying to wrap your head around what she had told you.

Jacaerys had broken up with you only to get together with your cousin. 

You gather your things and walk to your car.

With your hands on the wheel you scream before you start laughing.

The laugh turns into choked out sobs as you let yourself cry for the first time since Jace left you.

───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────────

Seeing Jacaerys walk into your family home with his family had not been in your plans for tonight.

Frankly, if you had known this very important and must not miss family meeting was to officially announce his engagement to your cousin, you would have accepted that case on the unknown skeleton they found last week or gotten your professors to make something up so you could have an excuse not to turn up.

Instead, here you are, forced to stand and watch Jace smile and greet your cousin and her parents. 

You stand in a corner next to your brother, tongue poking the inside of your cheek in slight annoyance.

You can tell the exact moment Jacaerys notices your presence. 

You send him an overly sweet smile and watch him falter, confusion and something else flashing in his eyes before he blinks and puts his mask back up, turning and shaking your mother’s hand.

He had always been good at that, pretending that nothing was bothering him.

Your mother smiles and turns to you and your brother. Your brother nudges you, and you quickly plaster a pleasant smile on your face.

“This is my daughter and my oldest.”

Your brother shakes Jace’s hand and introduces him. Jacaerys turns his attention to you. 

“Hi,” you smile, reaching out and shaking his hand. “Y/n. Pleasure to meet you.”

You watch him gulp, smile and greet you back.

You keep your distance and stay quiet the entire time the two families eat. You know your brother has noticed because he keeps sending you odd looks, but you brush them off, not bothering to pay him any mind or explain your current predicament to him.

What does bother you is Jace.

He keeps looking over at you, most of the time it’s short glances but sometimes you can feel his gaze boring into the side of your head as you answer the questions his brothers, Lucerys and Joffery ask about your degree, his mother occasionally asking a few of her own.

You make sure to keep your answers brief. Your degree was hardly dinner conversation, and you didn't want anyone's dinner resurfacing in any way.

You make sure to turn to him and give him a smile. He snaps out of his daze every time, blinking a couple of times before tuning back into whatever your cousin was talking about.

At some point in the night, you get up, telling your brother you needed to get something from your room.

You don’t notice Jace’s eyes following you as you walk away, and you sure as hell don’t hear him excuse himself to go to the bathroom.

You startle slightly as you feel someone grab your wrist. You don’t even need to turn around to realise who it was.

The soft scent of sandalwood tells you enough.

“What are you doing?” you hiss under your breath, looking over his shoulder to make sure no one had seen the both of you before pulling him into your room. 

Jace looks around, taking in his surroundings.

He can’t really help it. It was the first time he had been in your room. He notices the photo wall full of polaroids you told him about making and the string of fairy lights you had bought together after convincing him to go shopping together. 

“I didn’t know you were related to her,” Jace said.

“I told you who my mother was,” you scoff. “It was pretty fucking obvious Jace.”

Neither of you notice the person standing by the door, listening in on the conversation through the slight crack.

“Well you could have straight up told me,” Jace argues.

“You're arguing with me because I didn’t give you my mother’s government name? Are you serious? I told you her name, where she worked and what she did. I even told you she was helping coordinate that joint event with your mother! I couldn’t have been more obvious, it’s not my fault you couldn’t put two and two together!”

Jace opens and closes his mouth. It's not like she was wrong.

“This,” you whisper. “This is why you broke up with me? If you had known, would you have stayed? Would you have let me tell everyone that we dated?”

Jace winces at your harsh tone but otherwise stays silent, giving you your answer. 

“I can’t believe you.”

“You think I wanted this?” Jace said. “You think I knew my parents were gonna set me up with her?”

“Clearly you did since you refused to tell anyone about us.”

“That’s not -”

“Don’t,” you cut him off. “Just don’t.”

You sigh and shake your head.

“You need to go. Leave first, and then I can follow after a couple of minutes.”

Jace grabs your hand before you can push him towards the door. “Wait, just -”

“You need to go,” you repeat. “If you haven’t noticed your fiancé-to-be is down the hall along with the rest of my family and we both have better things to do then stand here and argue over a topic we already know our stance on. Also, I have somewhere I need to be.”

With that, you pull your hand away from his and walk away. He follows you into the hallway, hears you say bye to your family, and watches you turn to leave.

Fuck.

How was he going to fix this?

───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────────

Looking back on it, Jacaerys really didn't know how he didn't put two and two together.

He had met your mother on numerous occasions considering that she worked with his mother for joint events and whatnot.

You were practically a carbon copy of your mother as well. 

The hair, the eyes, the intellect. Everything about you screamed Dayne and his stupid brain couldn’t piece together the fact that you were related. 

How the fuck did he not know?

All those times when you had told him your mother was away on business and he had commented that his mother was gone as well. 

He groans, running a hand down his face. 

Rhaenyra, who had been standing by the doorway for the past five minutes watching her son have what looked like a mental breakdown, finally decides to make her presence known.

It was time to talk some sense into her son.

“Jace.”

“Mother.”

“Can I come in?” His mother asks. 

Jace nods and she walks into the room.

“Want to tell me what’s on your mind?” she questions. “Luke is complaining about your constant groans.”

Jace normally would have laughed but all he can do is sigh. 

“What’s wrong, Jace?” his mother asks again.

“I messed up,” Jace mutters. “Really bad, and I don’t know how to fix it.”

His mother nods, walking forward and sits beside him on the bed. 

“Why don’t you tell me everything so I can help?”

Jace looks at her, hesitates for a moment before the flood gates open, and he tells her everything. 

He tells her about how you two met, about your first date, about how he wanted to keep your relationship a secret, and you had been okay with that for a while.

He tells her how he broke up with you because she wanted him to get together with your cousin. 

He doesn’t leave anything out, and his mother just sits and listens to everything. 

When he’s done she stays quiet.

“Jace,” she asks softly. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you say anything?”

Jace forces himself to hold back the tears threatening to spill out of his eyes.

“I don’t know. I don’t -” he shakes his head. “I was afraid that you wouldn’t approve, and I didn’t want to lose her, but I guess it’s too late for that now.”

Rhaenyra reaches out and holds his hands. 

“If I had known you loved someone like that,” she said. “I wouldn’t have set you up. I would never deny you your happiness. Even if she wasn’t what I envisioned for you, I wouldn’t have made you leave her, Jacaerys.”

His bottom lip wobbles. “What do I do now?”

Rhaenyra smiles and whips away a stray tear from his cheek.

“Jace?”

He hums.

“Do you like her?”

“What?”

“Do you like her?”

“I love her,” Jace said. “A lot.”

His mother smiles. “Then what are you doing here?”

He stays quiet, blinking at his mother.

“If you love her, why aren’t you with her?” His mother said. “Go get her back, Jace. If you love her, fight for her.”

Jacaerys stands up quickly and nods. He grabs a jacket from his chair and is gone the next second.

Rhaenyra watches him leave shaking her head with a soft smile.

That foolish boy.

───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────────

You were on campus, specifically at the building where your professors kept the unidentified bodies that had been sent over after being found.

You weren't allowed to have phones near the workstations or the bodies and even if you were you would have never bothered to bring it up with you.

Who in their right mind wants to touch their phone with people juice on their hands, regardless of whether or not you were wearing gloves?

Not to mention that you would have kept having to change your gloves as well, and that would do your head in. 

Your phone was in your bag, which in turn was in your personal locker outside, which meant you had no idea that Jacaerys had been trying to get a hold of you for the past hour.

You had no idea that he was calling you or texting you to ask for your whereabouts. 

Luckily for him, you were slightly predictable. 

You had just finished writing down your notes for the Jane Doe in front of you and making sure her bones were locked away and secure. 

You swiped your student card into the security slot, and the doors outside opened. Smiling and waving to the security guards stationed outside the lab, you grabbed your bag from the the opposite wall, holding the lockers.

You push open the door and stop short.

It was raining, because of course it was. 

You put your notes in your bag and started walking to your car, which was conveniently parked at the far end of the parking lot. 

You had been too busy re-reading and protecting your over your notes while speed-walking to your car to realise that Jacaerys had been waiting outside waiting for you.

You couldn’t hear him call your name over the sound of the rain.

When the rain suddenly stops falling on you, you look up only to be met with the slight of an umbrella. 

You turn confused and are met with a panting Jacaerys.

“You walk really fast,” he said, slightly bent over as he caught his breath.

You just stare at him. “What are you doing here?”

He stands up straighter. 

“Uh, I came to apologise.”

“What?”

“I’m sorry,” Jace said. “For everything. I’m sorry for being stupid and not putting two and two together. For keeping us a secret and breaking up with you. I’m sorry.”

“Where is this coming from?” you question.

“I came to a realisation,” Jace answered. “I can’t live without you.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Is that right?”

“I hate the fact that we aren’t together anymore. I hate the fact that I didn’t tell anybody we were together,” Jace said. “I hate being away with you. I hate not being with you. I hate not being able to hold and tell you I love you every day. I’ll do better this time. I swear it.”

“Careful Velaryon,” you say, stepping forward. “People could assume you are obsessed with me.”

Jace’s lips tug upwards, and he nods, closing the gap between the two of you completely, leaning down.

“They would assume correctly.” 

The world around the two of you fades into the background as he leans forward, his lips brushing against yours. 

The air around the both of you seemed to warm. You don’t know who leans in first, and you don’t care. 

All you cared about was the fact that Jacaerys was kissing you again. That he was yours again.

Your eyes flutter close as your lips meet, and the umbrella protecting the two of you from the rain drops to the floor as he pulls you closer.

You don’t register that you drop your bag to hold onto his collar and pull him even closer. 

You could have sworn lighting flashed through the sky as your lips met, but maybe that was you imagining things. You had almost forgotten what it felt like to kiss him. 

Those sparks when your lips touched his, that feeling of something more.

Of something real.

Your heart skips a beat

“You know you’re stuck with me forever now right?” Jace said as he pulled away smiling.

You laugh and Jace sees that familiar sparkle of light in your eyes. The ones that remind him of stars.

“I think it’s you that’s stuck with me.”

He grins leaning in to kiss you again. “I love you.”

“And I love you,” you smile into the kiss.

A particularly cold and harsh gust of wind coupled with the booming sound of thunder breaks the moment and you shiver.

Jace goes to pick up the umbrella that had fallen. Luckily, the wind hadn't carried it too far off.

Your eyes follow him before they fall on your wet bag on the floor. The bag that had your notes. The bag that held the notes that you had been painstakingly working on for the past few hours. 

You scream, causing Jace to jump.

“You little shit! You made me drop my notes! I take it back! I hate you!”

Jacaerys laughs as you pick up your bag and hit him with it. He runs away as you chase him in the rain, cursing him out for letting you ruin your notes. 

You really wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Well, except maybe with dry notes. 

───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────────

Thank you to my bby girl @icarusignite for pre-reading this and thirsting over Jace to an almost unhealthy degree with me ily<3

Go read her fics or else (this may or may not be a threat)

Written by Yor <3

[sceletaflores]

come on and show me a little bit of spine!

pair: logan howlett x mutant!fem!reader

wc: 5.5k

contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, swearing, drinking, smoking, p in v, rough sex, unprotected sex, public sex (alleyway hehe), biting, blood but not blood play, pain kink, scent kink, a special guest (!!!), jealous logan muahahaha, emotional constipation but like wtf is new, nat probably blatantly ignoring canon, probably ooc logan and friends sorry i'm just a girl, porn w/ plot (a little???), no use of y/n.

author’s note: HAHA BACK ON MY LOGAN BULLSHIT! who’s laughing? not me. i can’t stop writing for him it’s insane and selfish i know i know i’m sorry. bee tee dubs this is part two to all’s fair in love and viscera cus i couldn't get them out of my head so...kisses!

five x-men walk into a bar, only three walk out…

All men are the same. X-gene or no x-gene, they're all immature pigs.

You've come to find that it's more than just skin deep. If you took a knife to every man in this bar, you'd surely find the exact same little metaphorical mass of arrogance ingrained in every single one of them once all the layers are peeled back far enough.

And that's what Logan is, a man.

A stubborn, arrogant, mind-numbingly frustrating man who's convinced he could never be wrong just because he's had a little more time than normal to perfect the art of being completely insufferable.

No adamantium skeleton or foot long claws of death can change that.

You could set him on fire, drown him, watch him regenerate from a single cell, and nothing would change.

So, in hindsight, you really should have seen this coming.

It was Ororo's idea to go out, insisting the team needed it. A casual night at the bar across town to raise bravado after a few close call missions.

It sounded fun at the time, and for the first thirty minutes it was.

Getting to shed your hero skin for a few hours every so often is always nice, and you love your team. Love getting to just sit and live with them. You hardly get nights like this anymore, filled with playing pool and darts like people do.

That being said, you were reaching the top of your limit. Fast.

It started at the bartop, with Logan sauntering up next to you for the first time tonight. 

He slid into the empty seat to your left, leaned against the bar casually, glancing at you from the corner of his eye. His lips tugged into that half-smirk he wore that night in the training room.

“You avoiding me?” he asks, voice low, bent down just enough to speak directly into your ear. "Haven't seen you all night."

You almost scoffed, almost turned to face him so he could see the look of irate disbelief on your face. Almost, but you didn't want to give him the extra attention.

"I could ask you the same thing."

You didn't miss how things had changed between the two of you after your night in the training room. Something shifted, and not in the romantic 'so...what are we now?' territory.

It shifted into Logan disappearing, closing himself off. He didn't go out of his way to avoid you, didn't even go as far as ignoring your existence entirely. He didn't need to, you knew it was different.

He refused to talk about it, refused to even acknowledge it, completely shutting you down the one time you tried bringing it up.

It stung. The feeling of rejection, especially after that night. You felt like you bared a part of your soul to Logan on that dark blue training mat. You swore you saw something different in his eyes too, a subtle shift, something that said this ran deeper than just a messy fuck between friends.

It played on your mind like a loop, every detail. You nitpicked almost every single thing you did, searched your mind for what you could have done that scared him off.

It has to be you, it always is.

It took a week to get over it. A week to wash away the feeling of Logan's hands on your body, of his lips on yours, of his cock carving a space for itself in your cunt, of his blood sliding down your throat and slicking the palms of your hands.

Eventually, that sadness gave way to self-reflection. Self-reflection gave way to anger, and now you're just plain pissed.

This has nothing to do with you.

Logan is a grown man, not a goddamn baby. He should know how to communicate by now, should take the stick out of his ass and drop the whole 'I'm no good for you baby' martyr cross he's carried around for over a century and talk to you.

But if he wants to be alone to sulk in self pity and sorrow for two hundred more years, you'll let him.

Logan's smirk falters, his expression falling with a heavy sigh. He leans back, one boot moving to rest on the rung of your stool. "You really want to do this here?"

"You came up to me," you shrug, finally turning to face him. The warm glow of the bar lights catch the edges of your frustration. "If you’re here to talk, then talk."

Logan doesn't respond, just meets your gaze with a raised brow. His eyes scan over your face slowly, taking in the pinch between your brows and the stern look in your eyes.

"Trouble in paradise?"

Scott's voice pierces through the tense air between you. His tone is casual in a way that's undermined by the smug smile turning the corner of his mouth up. It's too knowing, like he'd been listening in before.

Logan's brows pinch together in irritation the same way they always do when Scott talks, but he holds your gaze. His silence is infuriating because it's the same old routine—he just stares, brooding, like he’s waiting for the problem to magically solve itself without ever opening his damn mouth.

It makes your blood simmer just under the surface, the tips of your fingers burning with it.

You grind your teeth, balling your hands into fists where they sit on the bar. "Scott," you say, not breaking eye contact with Logan, "go play fetch or something."

Scott raises his hands in mock surrender, but you know he won’t leave without a parting shot. “Just looking out for you, you know. Can’t afford you two tearing each other apart over a little lovers spat before the night’s even over.”

As he saunters off, you turn your full attention back to Logan, who’s still studying you with that infuriating intensity. It’s as if he’s trying to decode some secret language written across your face.

You almost want to laugh at how predictable he is, how he thinks he can just sit there, unbothered, while you’re ready to explode.

“Are you really just going to sit there?” you challenge, leaning closer, daring him to respond. “You can’t keep dodging this forever, Logan. You think I’m the only one feeling this? We were both there that night."

His jaw tightens, and for a moment, you think you see the flicker of vulnerability beneath the gruff exterior. But then it’s gone, replaced by that stubborn wall he always puts up.

“I don’t need to talk about it,” he mutters, his voice low, but there’s an edge of desperation that catches your attention. “What’s done is done.”

“‘What’s done is done’?” You can’t help the incredulous laugh that escapes you. “Is that your new catch phrase? They gonna start printing that on the front of your action figure's box?"

Logan's brows furrow deeper, his mouth turning down in a hard frown. "Watch it," he warns tersely, the edge of a snarl on his lips.

You lean forward, desperate to get anything out of him. "Or what?"

The bar buzzes around you, laughter and music blending into a distant hum, but all you can focus on is him—the way his eyes flare with that familiar spark of rebellion, how handsome he looks under the bar's dim lights, the way his smell is starting to warm your insides despite how mad you are.

You raise your brow, waiting, hoping. He stays silent.

That's it.

You stand abruptly, causing your stool to scrape against the floor loudly. Logan straightens, eyes narrowing as he watches you, but you’re more than done with all of this. You've had enough.

"I'm going for some air." you say evenly, slipping your jacket off the back of your chair. "Don't follow me."

You turn and walk away before Logan can answer, heading in the direction of the bar's alley door.

You try your best to ignore the sinking feeling in your stomach, the first tendrils of dread wrapping themselves around you tighter with every step. Your eyes burn embarrassingly each time you blink, but you refuse to cry.

You’re emotionally spiraling a couple feet from the door when someone suddenly steps in front of you, and you crash into them.

“So sorry, ma’am,” A familiar voice says from somewhere in front of you as two strong hands grip your waist to steady you. “Completely my fault, I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

You crane your head up, eyes dragging from the blue gingham button down stretched over impressive muscle until they land on a pair of blue eyes and blonde head of hair you recognize.

“Steve?” 

Steve Rogers smiles down at you, his hands still lightly resting on your waist. His expression is soft, apologetic, and a little surprised. Your name falls from his lips in a warm greeting, his hands lingering for a second longer before he drops them and takes a small step back.

“I’m surprised you still remember me. It’s been a while,” he says with the same boyish charm you remember, like he hadn’t just watched you nearly barge through the door like it owed you money. “How’ve you been?”

You blink up at Steve, the frustration from your situation with Logan still fresh, swirling through your system like a storm.

How’ve you been?

What a loaded question.

“Better,” you answer with a tight smile, barely convincing yourself. “Just tired. We’ve been so busy recently, you know how it is.”

Steve gives you a searching look, his eyes skimming your face with the kind of care that makes you want to shrink into yourself. His brow furrows slightly, concern flickering in those crystal-clear eyes of his as he studies your face. 

"Are you okay?" he asks, genuinely, like he’s already picked up on the fact that something’s off. 

How could you forget, he’s got the emotional radar of a saint. Lucky you.

"Yeah, sure," you lie, adjusting your jacket and pointedly avoiding the obvious upset that’s probably plastered across your face. You force a smile, hoping he buys it. "Just needed some air. This place is packed."

The furrow of Steve’s brows deepen, his lips pressing into a thin line like he doesn’t believe you. You feel worse under the intense pressure of his knowing stare, like a bug trapped under a magnifying glass.

You’re about to say something—anything—to fill the awkward silence, but then you feel it. That heavy, unmistakable presence at your back.

Of course he didn’t listen.

Steve’s eyes flick over your shoulder, and you don’t even have to turn around to know Logan’s right there, brooding like a dark cloud about to burst. You can practically feel the tension rolling off him in waves as one strong arm slides underneath the thick denim of your jacket and around your waist.

“Cap,” Logan’s clipped voice greets from somewhere behind you, laced with barely concealed irritation as his fingers dig into the cotton of your shirt, staking some sort of unspoken claim.

Steve gives Logan a respectful nod, though his expression remains calm, measured, the same quiet authority he always carries. “Logan,” he greets, smile faltering for the second it takes him to drop his eyes to Logan’s arm. “Nice to see you doing well.”

Logan hums noncommittally, you feel the rumble of it against your back. “Didn’t think this was your scene,” he says to Steve, brow cocked in suspicion.

Steve shakes his head, a small laugh falling from his lips. “It’s not, usually. I got strong armed into joining a few friends.”

“Right,” Logan replies, tone flat like Steve would have a reason to lie.

You can almost see the tension thickening in the air, an electric pulse that shoots straight through you. Logan’s grip tightens subtly, an instinctive reaction to Steve’s presence, but you can feel the subtle heat rising, the way your heart races under his touch despite yourself.

It’s infuriating, and for a second, you’re tempted to dive right into it, to unearth the chaos lurking beneath that chiseled exterior. But then you remember where you are, why you walked away from Logan in the first place—how public it is, how many eyes are on you.

“Steve and I worked together, a base infiltration in Albany a few years ago.” You cut in, shooting Logan a look over your shoulder, like a sharp glare alone could get him to calm down, if only for a second. But he just meets your gaze with that familiar stubbornness, eyes dark and unyielding. 

It’s infuriating, and for a moment, you’re tempted to dive right into it, to unearth the chaos lurking beneath that chiseled exterior. But then you remember where you are—how public it is, how many eyes are on you.

“Feels like a lifetime ago,” Steve says, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

And it does. 

You think of Kevlar squeezed around your ribs, of explosions and buildings falling and the smell of gunpowder.

"Yeah, it does," you reply, ignore the sinking feeling in your stomach and forcing a smile.

“God, you look…” His gaze rakes over you like he can’t help it, the bright blue of his eyes trailing from your face down your legs and back up all over again. You can feel Logan bristle next to you. 

”You look amazing,” Steve finishes with a small shake of his head, million dollar smile still pulling up the corners of his mouth. “Buy you a drink?”

“We were just leavin’, Cap,” Logan cuts in tersely, his arm tightening around your waist even more. His grip is possessive, but it’s not affectionate—it’s an unsaid challenge, a warning. “Calling it an early night.”

You whip your head around, confusion evident on your face. "We?" you parrot back, the word hanging in the air like a challenge of its own. “We haven’t decided anything.”

Logan’s jaw tightens, that familiar stubbornness rearing its head again. His hand splays flat over the span of your lower back, pushing just enough for you to feel the power behind it but not enough to really move you. “Let’s go.”

You look at Steve, then Logan, then the crowded bar, then the door to the alley, and repeat. 

It should be an easy answer, an easy way out of going in circles with Logan even more than you already have.

But you find yourself stuck, feet rooted to the floor as your mind races with a hundred different thoughts in the span of a second.

Your lips part, and you’re not even sure what you’re going to say, when Steve beats you to the punch. 

"She can decide for herself," he says evenly, though there's a subtle shift in his tone. It’s calm, but there’s a steely edge to it, like a well-honed blade concealed beneath all the politeness. He’s still smiling, but it’s less soft now, more hardened around the edges.

Logan’s grip on your waist tightens, his fingers digging in like he's daring Steve to push the envelope any further. “Yeah? Don’t think she needs you speakin’ for her, either.”

"Enough," you snap, stepping out of Logan’s hold with a sharp turn, your voice cutting through the growing storm between them. You turn to him with a hard look, brows pinched in anger. "Fine, let's go."

Your smile feels strained, the edges sharp and jagged as you face Steve, the weight of Logan’s presence at your back heavy and suffocating. “It was great seeing you, Steve. Really.”

Your voice sounds strained even to your own ears.

“We’ll have to catch up some other time,” you add, though the words taste bittersweet on your tongue. 

You can tell he wants to say something, his smile completely dropping as his eyes flit between you and Logan a few times. You give him a pleading look, a reassuring nod that you’ve got this. 

Steve hesitates, you can see the gears turning in his mind, weighing the situation and trying to gauge the tension in the air. But ultimately, he nods, offering you one last smile that’s laced with concern.

“Absolutely,” he says, his voice warm despite the tension hanging in the air. “I’d love to. Just let me know when.”

With one last nod to Logan, he turns and walks away to meld into the crowd until you can’t make out the blue of his shirt anymore.

You don’t turn to Logan as you finally walk out the door. The clunk of his boots follow you the whole way out.

As soon as you’re outside, all the anger sets in at once, burning hot in your stomach as you spin around to face him. The fresh air hits your face like a slap, cool and bracing, but it does nothing to quell the fire simmering inside you.

"You really can't leave well enough alone, can you?" You snap, folding your arms defensively. “You just had to go and stake your territory?”

Logan’s face hardens, his eyes dark under the dim streetlight. “What do you expect me to do? Let you walk away and get buttered up Rogers while I sit at the bar with my dick in my hand?”

“Steve wasn’t doing anything!” You exclaim, frustration seeping into your every word. “He was just being nice, we’re friends.”

Logan lets out a disbelieving snort, shaking his head hard enough that his hair sways with it. “Nothin’ about that was friendly, kid. You’d have to be fuckin’ blind to not see that.”

You huff, turning your eyes to the sky in exasperation. “Why do you care?” you fire back, heart racing at the challenge. “We’re not together! You’ve made that more than clear!”

Now that the seal is broken, it’s like you can’t stop. Words fall out of your mouth faster than your mind can keep up, all the pent up frustration you’ve felt over the past few weeks boiling over.

“You’re the one that’s acting like nothing happened!” You throw your hands up in exasperation, your voice rising with every word. “You’re the one who disappeared, who’s been avoiding this whole thing like it didn’t mean anything!”

He growls, stepping closer, his presence looming. "You think I don’t know that, kid? You think I haven’t been dealing with this shit—with us?"

"Well, you sure as hell don’t act like it! You don’t talk about it. You don’t even try! You just stand there and expect me to what? Read your mind?”

For a split second, Logan’s expression falters, his shoulders stiffening as if your words struck a nerve. But just as quickly, the mask falls back into place. "I’m no good for you, kid. And you know it. I’m doing you a favor."

"There it is again!" You bark out a bitter laugh, shaking your head. "The martyr complex. You’ve been alive for over a century, Logan. You’ve got time on your side, and you still can’t figure out how to be a decent human being in a relationship?”

He flinches slightly, but his eyes remain locked on yours, anger and frustration swirling behind them. "It’s not that simple."

“Of course it is!" You step forward, closing the gap between you. "You just don’t want to do the hard work. You don’t want to open up, to be vulnerable, because then you’d actually have to face yourself. And God forbid Wolverine confronts something he can’t claw his way out of.”

Logan’s jaw clenches, his eyes blazing, and for a long beat, the two of you stand in a tense, electrified silence. The world around you seems to fall away—no bar, no missions, no X-Men—just the two of you, standing in the alley, raw and exposed.

You don’t know who moves first, you or Logan, before you can register it, the distance between you disappears, swallowed by the pull of all that unresolved tension.

His lips claim yours, fierce and urgent, as if this was the only language he’s fluent in—raw emotion, violent passion. His hands find your waist again, gripping tight, pulling you flush against him.

The kiss is messy, desperate, a collision of teeth and tongues, but it’s exactly what you expected. It’s how you and Logan have always been—no finesse, just fire and stubborn intensity. It’s the only way he knows how to communicate, the only way he can let go, even for a second.

Your hands slide up into his hair, yanking roughly as a guttural growl vibrates from his chest into your mouth. You feel the heat of his skin, the coiled tension in his muscles, and it ignites something wild inside you.

The anger hasn’t left—it’s just morphed into something darker, something hungrier.

The kiss is nothing like the ones from that night in the training room. This one is full of anger and frustration, all the emotions that have been simmering between you two finally bubbling over in an explosive release. His lips are hard, demanding, and the taste of whiskey lingers faintly on his breath, mixing with the metallic scent of the alley.

You push back just as fiercely, your hands tangled in his hair as you try to pour all of your hurt, your confusion, and your pent-up rage into that single kiss. For a moment, it’s all- consuming—hot, reckless, like trying to catch fire in your hands.

“You’re such a fuckin’ punk,” he grates against your lips, kneading the meat of your hips roughly like he’s trying to anchor himself to you. His teeth scrape your bottom lip, his growl vibrating through you like a warning shot, but it only spurs you on.

"You’re one to talk,” you bite back, the heat between you both as volatile as ever.

You drop your hands to his chest, gripping the leather of his jacket in your fists and yanking him closer until there's no space left, until it's hard to tell where the anger ends and the need begins.

Logan growls, the sound reverberating deep in his chest, as his hands move up your back, possessive and rough. “You keep pushin' me, kid. You really wanna see how far I’ll go?"

"Maybe I do," you shoot back, biting down lightly on his lower lip. You taste the blood—his blood—and something primal stirs in you. His healing factor kicks in almost instantly, but the heat between you spikes with the sharp tang of it. It always does.

Logan hisses sharply, tongue swiping over the blood still dotted along his lip before he’s pushing you backwards.

You have no choice but to move with him, blindly stumbling back a few steps until your shoulders hit the wall of the bar. His lips attached to your neck the whole way, teeth nipping at the rapid flutter of your pulse.

It’s like a wildfire spreading between you, all heat and destruction, and the alley around you seems to fade into the background, leaving nothing but the chaotic mess of you and Logan.

You consider the risks of fucking Logan in an alleyway for all of two seconds, every single warning bell in your mind going silent when his hands tighten their hold on your hips to spin your around, pushing you up against the brick roughly.

“Fine,” he concedes, yanking the fabric of your skirt up hard enough you hear a tiny rip. “I’ll give you what you want, princess.”

The sound of his zipper being tugged down might as well be a gunshot with how loudly it reverberates through your mind. Your thighs slide together slickly, aching cunt clenching in anticipation.

The soft sound of Logan pushing his jeans down is the only warning you get before the thick head of his cock is sliding over the wetness staining the fabric of your panties.

“This what you wanted?” he asks, hooking his fingers into the lace to tug it aside and slip the length of himself through your slick folds. “You need a cock in your hungry pussy to feel better?” He lines himself up with your fluttering entrance, pushing gently until the very tip slips in.

Your lips fall open, brow furrowing as he starts feeding you his length one infuriating inch at a time.

Anger still warms your gut, but you find yourself nodding wordlessly. Tiny, desperate sounds escaping your throat the deeper he sinks in.

The stretch of him is almost too much, like he’s splitting you in two. It’s the kind of sting that just barely toes the line of pain and pleasure in the best way. It has you crying out when he finally bottoms out, pressing your forehead against the brick to try and ground yourself.

Logan’s considerate enough to keep still, thumbs rubbing soothing circles over the skin of your hips as you adjust.

“God,” you groan, shifting your hips enough to feel the way his cock rubs along your walls. The burn starts to melt away into pure pleasure with every grind.

“That’s it, baby,” Logan goads, hands still planted on your hips as you start to bounce on his cock in earnest. “Write your name on this cock, tell everyone who it belongs to.”

His words just spur you on, a high whine falling from your lips as you set a steady rhythm. The slap of skin on skin getting louder, echoing around you lewdly. 

“Mm, feels good huh?” he hums, pressing a sweet kiss to your shoulder.

You barely choke out a garbled ‘yes’, thighs starting to shake with the effort of thrusting yourself back. 

“Sorry,” he says, gripping the meat of your hips to pull you back against his cock roughly. “What was that?”

“Yes!” you mewl, cheeks burning. The anger steadily drains from your body the closer you get to come, until it's an afterthought just present enough in your mind to still matter. “Feels so good, please Logan…”

Logan groans under his breath, pulling his hips back back back until he’s reaming forward. He thrusts once, twice, three times before he’s taking over. Big hands anchored to your hips to drag you back on every snap of his hips. 

Your entire body lights up, the pathetic noises passing through slack your lips barely register over the white noise rushing through your ears. Logan’s fucking you like he wants to break you, heavy hips pounding into the meat of your ass like an animal. The slap of it stinging your skin only for him to pull out and leave you empty before filling you again.

You go pliant in his grip, a high moan escaping you as he expertly hits that spongy spot inside of you that has heat pooling in your gut.

“God, I missed this,” he admits into your hair, one hand sliding around to press against your lower stomach. Logan’s hand is massive and blisteringly hot over your skin, cupping and feeling where he punches up into you with every thrust from the outside.

“Fuck, baby,” he growls, pressing his forehead to your back desperately. “Do you feel that? Feel how deep I am inside of you? Gonna fuckin’ fill you up, stuff you so full you’ll be leaking for weeks.”

“Logan,” you gasp, heat coiling in your belly. 

“I know,” he breathes, hips speeding up impossibly faster. “I got you, honey.”

You turn your head, the skin of your cheek scraping over the rough bring with every hard snap of his hips. The thick muscle of his forearm fills your eye line, strong and tan where it cages you to the bar. You swear you can see the blood pumping through his veins. Your stomach jerks with need, your mind buzzing.

Without thinking, you lean forward and bury your teeth in the muscle there. The coppery tang of blood on your tongue sends you reeling, a deep groan rumbling through your chest.

“Fuck!” Logan exclaims, giving one last thrust before he’s burying himself as far as he can. His cock throbs, pulsing as he unloads inside you. Rope after rope of come paints the shaking walls of your cunt, slicking the thrust of his that much more.

Pleasure goes off in sparks all up your spine, lighting up every vertebrae until the fireworks go off in your brain. Your hands claw at the wall desperately, eyes screwing shut as you fly over the edge.

Your mouth falls open in a silent scream as you come, hands digging into the brick hard enough that it cracks and crumbles beneath them, falling to your feet in little rock’s.

Everything around you fizzles out into nothing, just a dull hum cocooning you in this moment, and for just a second it’s like you're floating. 

The heave of Logan’s chest against your back and his lips on your neck only add to that far away feeling, nice enough that has you leaning into the warmth of his body. 

A car horn blaring somewhere in the distance jerks you out of any warm, fuzzy feelings and deposits you back in the real world. Your eyes refocus on the building in front of you, and a displeased groan rips from your chest.

“I made a mess,” you murmur quietly, looking at the two matching dents in the bar's wall and the same red powder staining your hands.

Logan huffs into the sweaty skin of your neck, an amused noise. “That’s alright,” he says, barely out of breath. He pulls out just enough to let his come start leaking out around his dick, sliding down the length of him in thick rivers of white. “So I did.”

You scoff, shaking your head in disgust as he steps away with a snort. Your voice is breathy and small when you speak, “You’re disgusting.”

It's quiet for a long time, both you and Logan dressing yourselves in silence. The thrum of traffic around you mixed with the muffled music bleeding through the wall is the only noise filling the space.

You drag your eyes to him, watching as he yanks up his jean’s zipper while you smooth your skirt down.

“I told you not to follow me. When we were back inside,” you say, voice steadier than before but just as breathless.

Logan meets your eyes, and there’s a pause. For a second, you think maybe he’ll turn around and leave, run away to try and forget this too. Instead, you hear his boots scrape against the gravel as he steps closer.

"I don't take orders well, remember?" His voice is gravelly, like he’s chewing on the words before spitting them out.

"Obviously," you huff under your breath, a humorless laugh shaking your shoulders slightly.

Logan’s lips quirk into a tiny, almost imperceptible smile, but it fades just as quickly.

He takes another step closer, close enough now that you can feel the warmth radiating off him again, his presence as heavy as ever. But this time, there’s something different.

He looks drained. Not physically, but emotionally. Worn down in a way you’ve never seen.

“I’m not good at this,” he admits quietly, his voice tired. “You know that.”

You raise an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue. He hesitates, rubbing the back of his neck in that rare, almost vulnerable way he does when he’s out of his element. Finally, he meets your gaze.

“I’m…" he trails off, mouth pulling into a wince like it physically pains him to apologize. "I’m sorry…”

“Wow,” you say slowly, head tilting to the side as you study him. “That was the worst apology I’ve ever gotten.”

Logan narrows his eyes at you, a mix of irritation and reluctant amusement flickering across his face. “You gonna let me talk?” he asks curtly, but there’s no real bite to it.

You sigh, nodding your head for him to continue.

He shifts his weight, a heavy sigh falling from his lips. “I know I’ve been a stubborn ass. I’m used to keeping everyone at arm’s length. It’s safer that way. I’ve lost too many people to just let someone in without a fight.”

His voice drops, laced with a vulnerability you rarely see. “I thought if I just stayed away, it would make things easier for you. I’m not relationship material, kid. I can’t be that guy for you. I don’t want you to get hurt.” 

He shakes his head, his shoulders slumping in more as he talks. “I’m a damn mess, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care about you. I do. A lot. It just scares the hell out of me.”

For a moment, you’re unsure how to respond. Part of you wants to lash out more, to keep the anger burning because it feels safer than the vulnerability you’re feeling now.

On the other hand, for the first time tonight, you see the man behind the adamantium, behind the claws and the gruff exterior. The man behind the Wolverine.

You only see Logan, who’s lived through centuries of loss and pain, who’s learned to build walls so thick even he can’t break through them sometimes.

And damn it, you hate how much you still care. You hate that, even after everything, Logan is the one person who can make you feel like this—angry, frustrated, and vulnerable all at once. But you can’t deny the truth any longer.

Because underneath all the anger and hurt, there’s still that spark. That stupid, stubborn spark that refuses to go out.

You take a step closer, your hand gently reaching for his. “You don’t have to be anything, Logan. You just have to try. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

He nods, a slow, deliberate movement. Taking a slow set closer to you, he takes your cheek in his hand. The bright red rawness of your skin is slowly draining, tiny cuts knitting themselves together. “I can do that.”

He slides his thumb across your cheekbone and somehow, you believe him.

It’s not perfect. It’s not a promise that everything’s going to magically be okay. But it’s a start.

Maybe that’s enough.

tags are now in the comments! if you want to get tagged for any of my works just fill out this form!

[fallstaticexit]

Prev / Next / Beginning / Pillowfort

Transcript under the cut

Geoffrey: So, our anniversary is coming up. I was thinking maybe we could plan a getaway. Somewhere really nice. What do you think? Nancy?

[Nancy snores lightly]

Nancy Narrates: [It was all starting to wear on me-]

Geoffrey: [softly] Goodnight Nance. I love you.

Nancy: [murmurs] m ‘love you...Vanessa.

Nancy Narrates: [Having to balance the many sides of me]

Nancy Narrates: [There was the Nancy that was a Theta]

Nancy Narrates: [The Nancy that was free]

Nancy Narrates: [The Nancy that was an honest, loving girlfriend]

Geoffrey: Date night tonight?

Nancy: I- have a thing with the Thetas. Maybe another night?

Geoffrey: You know, I’m happy you’re putting yourself out there. I’m proud of you.

Extra Loud Stereo Plays: Do Me! - Bell Biv Devoe

Take a good look at me Tell me do you like what you see

Do you think you can Do you think you can do me

Kiss me pretty baby And touch me all over

Girl what makes you think you can do me Do you think you can do me girl?

Do me baby (x2)

-

Geoffrey: Hey, you ever wondered what happened to Vanessa?

Bob: Vanessa? Vanessa Villareal?

Geoffrey: Yeah. When we came back from break, she just- vanished.

Bob: Yeah, that was crazy, huh? I talked to Cassie about it once. She said it reminded her of that whole Angela thing that happened junior year.

Geoffrey: What Angela thing?

Bob: You don’t know about the Angela thing!?

Geoffrey: [chuckles] No one told me about it! It was like a urban legend.

Bob: Vanessa and her mean girl squad ganged up on her and started bullying her because they thought she was a lesbian or something.

Geoffrey: No way. Was she?

Bob: I dunno. I mean, she was always hanging on to Vanessa. I guess that’s where the rumors started. Anyway, Cassie thinks maybe people were starting to talk about her and Nancy. They were close too.

Geoffrey: What? Why didn’t you guys tell me?

Bob: Dude, it’s just gossip. We can’t know for sure that’s what happened. Vanessa was always getting sent to the office, she probably got expelled.

Geoffrey: Yeah...

Bob: Are you ok, man?

Geoffrey: I think maybe that’s why Nancy’s been so down all this time. I think she misses Vanessa.

Bob: Probably, friendships between women are really intense.

-

Darling: [groans] I can’t believe I have class in 5 hours. I’m screwed.

Nancy: [laughs] Who told us to throw a rager on a Thursday?

Darling: Hey, we’re still in better shape than those two over there.

Nancy: The Thetas? More like tea parties.

Darling: [laughs] Hell nah.

Nancy: Should we check if they have a pulse?

Darling: [chuckles] Man, they can’t handle their liquor for shit.

Nancy: Did you meet them through the club?

Darling: Morgan chased me down to do a tarot reading one day.

Nancy: Ah. She got you too, did she?

Darling: I kinda like that stuff, you know, like zodiac signs and all that. Tells you alot about a person. Speaking of, what’s your sign?

Nancy: I have no idea. Maybe I’m a Pisces?

Darling: When’s your birthday?

Nancy: January 17th.

Darling: Huh, no shit? You’re a Capricorn. I’m a Virgo.

Nancy: What does that mean?

Darling: For one, means we’re compatible.

Nancy: Oh? How can you tell?

Darling: We’re both earth signs, means we grounded. We want the real thing.

Nancy: I don’t know what I want.

Darling: I think you do though. I think you don’t want to say it.

Nancy: What don’t I want to say?

Darling: You tell me.

Nancy: Well. I guess... I guess I have alot of questions.

Darling: Like what? Keep it real, it’s just me.

Nancy: Well.. How do you know that you’re- you know.

Darling: What, into girls? I’ve always known.

Nancy: But how do you know for sure?

Darling: I was probably born this way. I never looked at guys the way I look at women. I love everything about them. I love the way they smell, the way they feel. I’m probably crazy about them. It’s wired in my brain.

Nancy: Have you ever kissed a girl?

Darling: [chuckles]

Nancy: Don’t laugh...

Darling: You’re right, you’re right, my bad. Yeah, Nancy. I’ve done alot more than kissing though.

Nancy: Oh. You mean...like sex?

Darling: Yeah. Like sex.

Darling: Oh. I guess that means you’re done asking questions.

Nancy: ....What is it like?

Darling: Kissing?

Nancy: I know about kissing. I mean [clears throat] the sex. With a girl. What does it feel like?

Darling: You really wanna know?

Nancy: Well. I asked, didn’t I?

Darling: Alright. Give me your hand.

Darling: You wanna know?

Nancy: [swallows] Mhm..

[roosterforme]

I just saw the post about Darlin joking about him using a walker if they had a third baby.

I feel like Jake would have a real big doubt and guilt in himself one night about being too old for her. Maybe one day they're playing with their boys when the two are maybe like 6 and 3 and Darlin says she misses them being really small and now they kick and squeall when they get kisses because it's like icky.

That night maybe Jake is sitting on the side of the bed as Darlin gets in and she senses something is wrong and he asks her if she was with a younger guy would she have more kids as he feels he's holding her back. He definitely has a bit of self doubt as the daggers always tease him about being the old man of the house.

Btw love I adore your little blurbs for this fam. Today is probably the day I might catch up on a bunch but they are amazing 😍

Oh, ouch. Yes. It would hit him sometimes that maybe certain things would be easier or better for you if you had a partner closer to your own age. (angsty below)

Your husband was one week away from turning forty-seven, and he just absolutely rocked your world in bed. "I like it when you do that thing with your tongue," you whispered, staring up at the ceiling as he sat on the edge of the bed, naked.

His back was to you now, but you heard him chuckle. "And I like it when you do that thing with your tongue."

You rolled toward him and groaned. You were going to be sore tomorrow. "I'll go check on the boys before we go to sleep," you said, kissing him when you stood.

After your robe was securely tied, you walked quietly in to check on both Liam and Asher who were sound asleep. Then you went back to your bedroom where Jake had barely moved an inch.

"They looked extra cute when they're asleep and not fighting over Legos or eating all of the food in the kitchen," you mused, dropping your robe again. "I kind of miss when they were tiny and didn't know how to argue."

Jake cleared his throat. "Would you want to have another baby? If you could?"

You stared at him, unable to read the expression on his handsome face. It was closed off. And you were confused.

"I don't understand," you told him, placing your hands nervously on your hips, suddenly very aware of how naked you were.

"Just answer me. Would you have wanted more than two? Would you have wanted to try for a girl?"

You swallowed hard and shook your head slowly. "You got a vasectomy. I wouldn't even be able to get pregnant again."

Jake ducked his head and looked at the floor. "I wanted the vasectomy, because I'm already the oldest parent in Asher's school pick up line."

You took a step closer. "Who cares about that? You're also the hottest dad in Asher's school pick up line."

He looked up at you and whispered, "Will you just answer the question?"

"I already did!" you snapped. "We decided about the vasectomy together. Last year. You didn't make the decision alone, Jake." His eyes were fixed on your face as you said, "I have never once looked at you and thought you were too old to do anything. I didn't want more kids. Some days I can barely handle the two we have."

You burst into tears, crossing your arms over your chest as you turned to get your robe from the floor again. Jake's arms were around you, pulling you toward the bed, and you let him take you there. "I didn't mean to make you cry, Darlin'," he whispered. "I just hate the idea that I could be holding you back."

"You're not," you sobbed, face buried against his neck as he pulled the covers over both of you. "All you do is make everything better. The boys and I woudn't want it any other way."

Jake held you until you felt calmer, his fingers trailing up and down your arm. "I won't doubt my wife again," he whispered, turning off the lamp.

"Don't you dare."

You fell asleep to the sound of the ocean and the feel of Jake's big hand on your back.

[jellybelly-may]

❝𝐓𝐨𝐤𝐑𝐞𝐯 𝐒𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬!❞

Kawata Twins (with a younger sibling!) [platonic!]

"gah! stop it nahoya! souya help me!!"

cw: smiley being smiley

✧˖°.✧˖°.✧˖°.✧˖°.✧˖°.✧˖°.✧˖°.✧˖°.✧˖°.

General Hcs:

If you think the Haitani’s were protective

Think again

The twins will need to know your whereabouts, locations, or heck even escort to wherever you wanna go

As the youngest sibling, you’re the precious baby sibling of the Kawata twins, and they take their role seriously

always on high alert when it comes to your safety

calls you “Squirt” because you’re the youngest and smallest

The twins will play harmless pranks on you like switching places to see if you can tell them apart

You’ve gotten so good at recognizing the subtle differences that you can always tell who’s who, much to their frustration and to your delight

ofc there’s always some sibling rivalry between the three of you

video games, racing bikes, or even who can eat the most ramen 

You name it, you’ve done it

movie nights! the three of you have a tradition of watching movies together on weekends

Smiley always picks action movies, Angry prefers emotional dramas, and you’re stuck in the middle, trying to find a compromise

In the end, you usually end up watching a mix, with lots of popcorn and commentary from Smiley and loud yips from your pet dog pomeranian (check smiley’s official character book about the dog)

Matching accessories!!!

The three of you have matching bracelets that Smiley insisted on getting.

it’s a silent reminder that your brothers are always with you, even when they’re not physically around

✧˖°.✧˖°.✧˖°.✧˖°.✧˖°.✧˖°.✧˖°.✧˖°.✧˖°.

Nahoya/ Smiley 😆

teasing galore from this a-hole

loves to tease you endlessly, especially about your height or how you look up to him (literally and figuratively)

despite his constant teasing, you know it’s all in good fun

if someone else tries to tease you, he’s the first to step in

definitely has a soft spot for his siblings

shows it through his protective actions, like checking in on you more often than needed

probably forces you to learn how to ride a motorcycle “in case of emergency!” he says :D 

laughs at you when you stall the bike 

also probably teaches you how to fight 

“for fun!” :D 

✧˖°.✧˖°.✧˖°.✧˖°.✧˖°.✧˖°.✧˖°.✧˖°.✧˖°.

Souya/ Angry 😡

the one to patch you up! surprisingly good at it too!

when nahoya is teasing you, souya tries to defend you

but ends up getting teased as well

like nahoya, souya is protective of you too

he may not be most talkative compare to his brother

angry quietly leaves snacks or small gifts in your room when you’re feeling down

or he will silently sit with until you feel better 

souya’s has a knack for fooling people too!

especially you 

“who ate my ramen? :c ”

“probably ‘hoya, saw him going through the pantry >:c ”

with his serious expression, you always fall for it 

until you notice his minor gesture he does when he lies

asshole

don’t be mad though! he buys back more snacks for you to replace the ‘missing’ food

✧˖°.✧˖°.✧˖°.✧˖°.✧˖°.✧˖°.✧˖°.✧˖°.✧˖°.

Bonus scene:

Movie nights at the Kawata household were always...lively.

The three (more like two) are in full-on bickering mode as you all scramble to prepare snacks and argue over what to watch. In the middle of it all, PomPom, your family's Pomeranian sits on the couch, tilting its head in curiosity at the chaos unfolding around it.

Nahoya grins widely, holding up two action DVD's.

“C’mon, let’s just watch something exciting! This one’s got explosions!” He waves the DVDs at you and Souya, clearly excited.

“I mean, who doesn’t like a good explosion?”

You roll your eyes while searching through the pantry for snacks.

“Yeah, 'hoya, but we’ve seen that one, like, five times already! Besides, it’s my turn to choose, and I want to watch something funny.”

Nahoya groaned at your response.

Souya softly mutters while carefully pouring popcorn into a bowl.

“Anything but horror, please. I won’t be able to sleep for a week…”

Nahoya laughs and ruffles his twin's hair. “Afraid of ghosts, huh? Fine, no horror.”

He pauses, looking at you with a mischievous grin. “But we’re still watching something action-packed. No arguments!”

Grabbing a bag of chips, you narrow your eyes at Nahoya.

“Who made you the boss of movie night?! I’m picking comedy! PomPom agrees with me, right?”

You glance at the small Pomeranian, who simply yips energetically from the couch, clearly excited but having no idea what’s going on.

With a rare smile, Souya offered PomPom a piece of popcorn. "PomPom’s vote doesn’t count. Besides, I’d rather watch something calm, not too loud.”

Nahoya snatches the remote with his trademark grin. “Too bad! Action it is—majority rules!”

He gestures dramatically toward PomPom. “Me and PomPom, we’re a team!”

You chased after him. “Not fair! PomPom just wants snacks!”

Souya sat on the couch with PomPom by his side, his expression serious but soft.

“How 'bout this? Action-comedy. No explosions, just funny fights.”

The peach-haired boy pouts slightly but shrugs. “Fine, fine, I’ll allow it. As long as there’s a little action.”

You grinned and tossed a chip at Nahoya.

“Deal! Let’s finally settle on something before PomPom falls asleep waiting.” With a truce in place, the three of you settle on the couch with snacks in hand.

The movie starts rolling and for once, the chaos subsides as you all enjoy the night, occasionally laughing or teasing each other during the best scenes. PomPom snuggles into a blanket, letting out a content sigh, clearly the happiest with the arrangement.

[holdmytesseract]

hi friend! 👋

I have a cute and fluffy request for the Baby Fever AU! 💕Narfi's first steps, Loki and Ella are out on a daddy-daughter date (you can choose where they're going) while Narfi and reader are at home together.

While reader has her attention on other tasks, little Narfi takes his first steps towards reader. When Loki and Ella returns home, reader surprises them with Narfi walking towards them 🥹💚

Growing Up

☆ The Baby Fever AU ☆

Loki x Y/N feat. Narfi & Ella

Summary: Narfi takes his first steps, causing you and Loki to realise that he's not so tiny anymore...

Warnings: fluff, fluff and even more fluff!

Word Count: 1,7k

a/n: I know it took me quite some time, friend, and I'm truly sorry for it. 🥺 Also, I really hope that you like it and that I did your request justice. Thank you again for the amazing moodboards you made for me, @chennqingg ! 💖

Baby Fever Masterlist °☆• Loki Masterlist °☆• Masterlist

divider by @fictive-sl0th <3

Today felt like a pretty normal Thursday to you. Getting up at seven in the morning, making sure Ella got ready for school, while Loki prepared breakfast - bless him - and of course actually dropping your daughter off at school. Since you had 'Ella duty' this week, your husband tended to little Narfi and got the very young man dressed, fed and ready for the day. Sometimes, it was pretty chaotic and quite hectic. Especially on the days you were working as well - not full-time, though. You were still in maternity leave, but Nick allowed you to work two or even three days a week, if you needed a change of scenery or just a break. Just like today. Sure, Loki had to return to being an Avenger as well, but you always made it work. Besides, the others were happy to jump in as a babysitter as well.

After dropping Ella off at school, you drove straight to the SHIELD headquarters for work, leaving Narfi with Loki, who'd leave your son with auntie Nat for the rest of the morning, because Steve hated it, when Loki missed out the important briefings which concerned his 'development' as a resident of planet earth. Or in other words: Making sure he still behaved, didn't relapse and was a 'hero' and not a threat to humanity. In your eyes, it was ridiculous that he still had to 'prove himself' after all those years... After getting married and starting a family... After everything he had done for the Avengers, America and the whole world. But well... Who were you to speak up and change things? It was how it was.

Seven hours of going through reports and sorting files, you clocked out of work. Yes, it wasn't much you were doing, but it was something. Better than just staying at home. You loved being a mom, but sometimes you needed to see something different - and you were more than happy to rejoin your friends in hopefully near future and slip back inside your Avenger combat suit.

Instead of driving to school to pick up Ella, you drove back home. Loki had already done that; taking his princess out for a daddy-daughter date to the indoor swimming pool.

Arrived at the Avengers compound, you didn't even bother to drop your stuff first; instead heading immediately for Natasha's. Your motherly instincts were literally screaming at you by now to go see your baby son. So, you did.

Your best friend opened the door to her apartment for you with a huge smile and little Narfi on her arms; dressed in his white sweatpants and matching jumper. He looked like a baby smurf - which was probably one of the cutest things you had ever seen and would get certainly never tired of seeing again. "Mama!" Narfi squeaked happily from behind his pacifier as soon as his beautiful ruby eyes registered you; impatiently squirming in his auntie's arms. "Hiii, baby boy!" You smiled brightly and immediately took him into your arms. His adorable giggle urged to your ears; causing you to smooch his little cheek with kisses, and once you had thoroughly greeted your son, you turned your attention to the Black Widow leaning now against the door frame still with that smile on her lips.

"Hey, Nat." You shuffled closer to hug her, what the Russian beauty instantly reciprocated. "Hey, babes." "Thank you for looking after this little guy here," you said; pulling back from the hug and gently bouncing Narfi on your arm. Natasha shook her head. "No need to thank me. I love playing the cool auntie part." "I'll keep that in mind," you winked, causing your fellow Avenger to giggle.

"Alright. We'll be going then. Gotta do some chores... See you around, Nat." "Sure thing, babes."

You looked down at Narfi, who had snuggled against you; head buried in your neck. "Say bye bye to auntie Nat, Narfi." "Bye bye," babbled the little boy in a sweet, quiet voice; clearly on the verge of dozing off. Natasha smiled and waved at Narfi, "Bye bye, маленький смурф." who instantly lifted a small hand to wave back. Smiling and bidding your goodbye to the Black Widow as well, you pressed a kiss against your son's forehead and ran a hand through his black locks.

Back in the apartment, you put the toddler down for a nap on his beloved floor cushion - which he mostly preferred for a nap, instead of his bed. Now that your son was sleeping peacefully across the living room, you had the time to do some chores. On today's programme: folding laundry. So, you spread out on the sofa, switched on the TV - but kept the volume down, of course, and got to work.

From your position, you had the perfect view on Narfi as well; having an eye on him from time time. Unfortunately, that didn't always keep him from escaping your watchful gaze. Just like Ella, was he his father's child... Sneaky and definitely a tiny mischief maker. Not quite as much as his big sister, but nevertheless...

You could swear that you only didn't look at him for five minutes - and suddenly was the floor pillow empty.

Shit.

"Narfi?" You called through the living room; letting your eyes wander and already moved to stand up. He wasn't in this room anymore. You sighed and shook your head with a small smile. "Little rascal..." You mumbled under your breath and crossed the living room; aiming for the hallway.

The good thing was, that Narfi couldn't get far; not having learned how to walk just yet. The emphasis was on the word 'yet'.

You rounded the corner into the hallway, "Narfi?" and found your son standing - hands free - beside the clothes basket, which he had clearly used to pull himself on his feet. At the sound of his mama's voice, the toddler turned his head - which caused him to immediately lose balance and land on his small bum.

Your eyes widened. Was he about to take his first steps and you 'interrupted' him? "Baby, were you about to take your first step?" Narfi was already pulling himself up again; using the clothes basket as a help like before. A sweet huff left his small lips once he made it on his small feet; causing you to stifle a giggle.

"Try again, baby smurf, come on." Narfi turned on slightly wobbly legs towards you; hand gripping the basket for dear life. "Mama!" You smiled and walked quite a few steps closer, before you squatted down and opened your arms. "Yes, c'mere! Come to mama!" You tried to encourage Narfi; a bright smile on your lips.

The smile got even wider, when your son suddenly let go of his support - and took a very wobbly, unsteady step towards you. With you mouth agape, you giggled. "Yes! You did it, baby! C'mon! One more?" Your happiness infected Narfi and he smiled a bright, toothy smile. Giggling, he made another two fast and wobbly steps, before he lost his balance and more or less stumbled into your arms. You reached out and caught him, before he could hit the floor; sweeping him up in a hug.

"Yay!" You cheered and peppered his cerulean, chubby cheeks with kisses. "Mama is sooo proud of you, Narfi." The little boy just cooed and gurgled happily.

An idea crossed your mind.

"Let's surprise daddy and your big sister when they come home, huh? They'll be so happy to see you walk." Your toddler's eyes widened at your suggestion. "Supise dada lala?" Narfi couldn't say Ella yet, so he settled on 'Lala' - it was the cutest thing ever. You giggled; nodding. "Yes, baby smurf. Come on."

The laundry was long forgotten; deciding to play with Narfi instead and helping him practising to walk.

After a very successful daddy-daughter date at the indoor swimming pool, Loki and Ella returned back home in the evening to the Avengers compound. The little girl's hand was neatly tucked into her father's bigger one as they exited the elevator. Ella was definitely tired and worn out - just like it should be after such a day. That was most probably the reason why Loki was carrying not just his duffle bag in his free hand, but also Ella's pink Disney princesses rucksack on his back.

Together, they stepped down the hallway and into your family's apartment. "Darling?" Loki called out; taking off his shoes and helping his tired daughter to get out of her jacket. "Mommy? We're back!"

The pair heard a small voice along some shuffling, before you rounded the corner into the entrance area with Narfi walking in front of you; yet gripping tightly onto your pointer fingers. "Hey, you two," you greeted them happily. "The baby smurf and I have to show you something." Proudly, you let go of your son's small hands - and let him walk a few small, still wobbly step. Before he could topple over, you grabbed him quickly around his middle; holding him steady.

Both, Loki's and Ella's jaws were on the floor; not having anticipated this. Sure, Narfi had tried to walk now for days - probably weeks, but it looked like he needed some more time to learn... Apparently not.

"He is walking now!" A not-so tired anymore Ella squeaked and crawled forwards and clumsily, but lovingly hugged her little brother - who didn't quite understand why everyone was making such a big fuss. He just squeaked along happily.

Loki met your gaze; his beautiful blues shining with a few tears. "Darling, he... Our son is walking..." He whispered; visibly touched, but you heard him anyways. Ella was already helping Narfi back on his little feet; his hands in hers tightly as she helped him walk down the hallway. It gave you the opportunity to step over to your husband. With a smile, you slung your arms around his middle; invading his space. "I know, babe, I know." Loki laughed softly and tried to blink back the tears as he wrapped you up in a hug; strong arms keeping you locked against his tall, defined body.

"We have to watch out now, babe. Soon, he'll start to run," you stated with a giggle, causing Loki to shake his head. "By the Norns, please not. He's already growing up too fast..." You sighed; knew exactly how he felt - and he was right. You rested your head against his chest, giving your husband the opportunity to press a kiss on top of your head. "Mhm... Growing up too fast, just like Ella." You felt the god's chest vibrate with a hum. "Just like Ella..."

маленький смурф - little smurf

Baby Fever Crew: @muddyorbsblr @mochie85 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @jaidenhawke @multifandom-worlds @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @jennyggggrrr @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @huntedmusicgardenn @fictive-sl0th @herdetectivetheorist @hisredheadedgoddess28 @chennqingg @princess-ofthe-pages @km-ffluv @brokenpoetliz @lokiforever @stupidthoughtsinwriting @loz-3 @jaguarthecat @icytrickster17 @eleniblue @yourfriendlyslytherinhc @mypainischronicbutmyassisiconic @kimanne723 @lou12346789 @smolvenger @isaidoop @lokisgoodgirl @cakesandtom (Continuing in the comments)

[fannyyann]

Matthew Tkachuk on friend, former teammate Johnny Gaudreau: ‘I’m going to keep his memory alive’

FORT LAUDERDALE, Fla. — Matthew Tkachuk, reigning Stanley Cup champion and prince of South Florida, was bouncing off the walls at the Baptist Health IcePlex on Tuesday. He delivered light cross-checks to his Florida Panthers teammates and led the pack in conditioning drills, and his mouthguard received its customary chomping.

It appeared to be business as usual for the young star who is always occupied with something, whether it be selling the sport in Florida or partying with the Stanley Cup all summer.

Right now, that might be for the best.

Tkachuk’s dream summer turned into a nightmare when he learned of Johnny Gaudreau’s death on Aug. 29.

Gaudreau and his brother, Matthew, were killed in a traffic crash in Oldmans Township, N.J., outside Philadelphia. Police said the brothers were riding bicycles when they were hit by a driver trying to pass an SUV on a two-lane road.

Tkachuk and Johnny Gaudreau played together for six seasons with the Calgary Flames, a couple of American kids taking western Canada by storm, often on the same line. The two left the Flames in the summer of 2022, Gaudreau signing as a free agent with the Columbus Blue Jackets, while Tkachuk was sent to the Panthers in a blockbuster deal.

Tkachuk, whose life has been a whirlwind for months, hasn’t had enough time to process Gaudreau’s death in the month since it happened.

“You put so much work into a season, that’s where all of your energy goes,” Tkachuk said. “Then you make the playoffs. You make the Final. And then, when it was over, we got to celebrate this summer. It was the greatest summer of my life, and some of the most incredible memories were made. But then, right at the end of this amazing summer, the unthinkable happened.”

Gaudreau took Tkachuk under his wing in Calgary, and a forever friendship was formed. Understandably, Gaudreau is on Tkachuk’s mind every day, but that was already the case long before Gaudreau was gone.

“Ever since I left Calgary and came to Florida, all I ever do is tell stories about Johnny,” Tkachuk said. “At one point, I was probably telling the guys down here a Johnny story once a week. I was always talking about him, about something funny he had done, something he had done in practice, whatever. He was the kind of guy that you could never get out of your mind, and I hated being away from him.”

Gaudreau and Tkachuk talked all the time after leaving Calgary, and while they badly missed playing together, they looked forward to having another opportunity to wear the same jersey and maybe even play on the same line.

The NHL 4 Nations Face-Off — a tournament among the United States, Canada, Finland and Sweden — will be in less than five months in Boston and Montreal. Then, in 2026, NHL players will return to the Olympics for the first time since 2014. Between the NHL balking at its season being delayed and COVID creating havoc with the 2021-22 schedule, NHL players have not participated in the Olympics for a decade.

“You have to understand that Johnny and I talked about being in the Olympics together a lot,” Tkachuk said. “In 2022, when they canceled us from being in the Olympics, we were so upset. We were both playing really well together in Calgary and we thought we were going to be so good in the Olympics. We talked about it all the time. That was a tough one. He had played for Team USA in so many big events, and I know it meant a lot to him. Obviously, we would have been together this time. It’s tough to think about right now. But I know he would have been excited for those tournaments and he will be on my mind during those times even more than he usually is.”

Tkachuk doesn’t require nor ask for any sympathy. He simply misses his friend.

“Trust me, I feel like I’m the luckiest guy in the NHL,” he said. “I get to play a sport that I love, and it’s my job. And I get to play it (in Florida), which, in my opinion, is the best place in the league. The lifestyle. The fans we’ve developed down here. The way our fan base is growing and growing every day. You wouldn’t want to be anywhere other than this place. It really is the best, and I’m so lucky to have this life. I came here to win a Cup. I looked at this group of guys and I knew it could be done. I knew something special could happen. I guess I was right.”

Tkachuk’s emotions will surely peak in a few weeks, when the Panthers play on Oct. 15 in Columbus for the Blue Jackets’ home opener. In lieu of typical opening night ceremonies, the Blue Jackets will honor the memory of Johnny and Matthew Gaudreau.

“I really haven’t thought about that night too much just yet,” Tkachuk said. “But I have a feeling that it’s going to be pretty tough to play that night. It’s not just me that’s feeling it, obviously. The whole league is feeling it right now. Anyone who knew him is feeling it even more.”

Tkachuk is busy preparing his Panthers for a chance to claim back-to-back championships. Dynasties aren’t much of a thing in the modern-day NHL, but the Panthers have won the Cup once, have been to the Final two years consecutively, and their core remains in its 20s.

“We can do something special,” Tkachuk said.

Even still, a small part of his mind remains focused on the international tournaments, where he’ll never get the chance to play with Gaudreau again. But he does have a chance to honor Gaudreau during those tournaments.

“It’s been a really, really, really tough few weeks,” he said. “I still can’t even believe it. It’s just so sad. All of it.”

While sitting and looking down at the Panthers practice facility, Tkachuk’s face alternates emotions, his mind churning.

“You know, the thing that’s getting me through this is those stories I was telling you about,” he said. “Those stories about him I tell all the guys constantly. I’m going to keep those stories with me forever and I’m going to keep his memory alive in everybody by continuing to tell those stories.”

He hopes to generate another story involving Gaudreau when the Olympics arrive.

“He would have been there and wearing that Team USA jersey meant a lot to him,” Tkachuk said. “It means a lot to me, too. When I’m there, he will be on my mind the whole time. Even more than usual. And I’ll be telling stories.”

[earthnashes]

Heyooooo ya'll! Figured it'd be a good idea to give a quick lil update on what I'm up to since it's been a while since I just talked on here.

If you don't wanna read here's the TL;DR:

-Fanart and headcanon AU projects in indefinite hiatus. This tumblr will host my commissioned art, original art/OC projects, and occasional tomfoolery of my thoughts, interests, and updates on my Powerlifting venture.

The full update under the break! :)

---- I'm doing relatively good! Cool news: I will be competing in my first powerlifting meet this year! It's been made official as of two months ago, and I've been hard at work with training and prep for the meet. I have my eye on making the state record for the Benchpress in my weightclass and I think I have real shot at it, so I'm gonna make the attempt. Wish me luck! ;w;

Not so good news: Rent's going up. Who's isn't, right? Gonna be putting a serious effort on looking for a new place (I'm reeaaallly gunning for a house) because SHEEEEEEEEEEEESH that spike in price for the exact same shit? Nah man. Likely will get rough a few times over the next few months but I'm confident I'll figure things out!

Now, the crux of why the update: I figured it was probably high time to mention the complete lack of fanart and headcanons 'round here, especially because that's what helped me find all of you and vice versa.

I'll be honest; I am no longer burnt out on creating art, but I've found the interest to continue any of my AU fanprojects is still missing, so as of right now they are on an indefinite hiatus. I apologize to everyone who followed me for the Super Mario, the LoZ stuff, anything and everything I was working on before the burnout! ;w;

I'm still working on projects, they're just completely original ones! I've been having so much fun with them and I'm pretty happy with them; here's a quick preview of each:

One is a slowburn fantasy where a god becomes trapped in the mortal realm while on a mission, but ends up compromising said mission when she begins to believe everything she knew about mortals is a lie.

The second project is an anthro mystery/thriller about a doe who knows her husband was murdered, but no one else believes her. As she works to find his killer herself, the last thing she expects is falling in love.

The third is the only fanproject I have going and ya'll know of it: Melon's Adventure! Follow Melon as he faces dangers and villains on his quest to return baby Mario to his family. A retelling of Yoshi's Island with twists and a personal flair!

---

But ye! I wanna say thank you all so much for your interest and engagement with my fanart work; regardless of everything I had an absolute great time working on them, and you all made them all the more enjoyable. It may take a little bit before I start posting them, but I hope you stick around for the original/OC stuff and enjoy what I've got in store! ;w;

Feel free to ask questions or make comments, I'll be around to respond starting today. Until then keep them peepers open for more art! :)

[conundrumoftime]

My Haladriel fics

I haven't grouped all these together before, so here's a collection of all the complete Haladriel fics I've written so far since October '22. Cannot believe it's been almost two years!

(Some of these fics also feature Celeborn/Galadriel, Celeborn/Sauron or all of them together, because I like a) Celeborn b) multishipping and c) mess. I'll make it clear here which stories those are, so if Celeborn is not your guy or if multishipping confuses or distresses you then that's! fine! just please don't read those ones and then be weird to me about it in the comments.)

Multi-chapter fics

Shadow-Bride (E, 265k words): This is my long long longfic, started in December of '22 and now complete after 43 chapters. Canon-divergence from the middle of s1.

Banquets have burned for you (M, 24k words): Written for eastwynds for the spring '23 Haladriel fic exchange, where the prompt was "one thing happens differently on Númenor, and everything changes." Went heavy on the Greek tragedy influence for this one because it felt fitting for Númenor.

A man is a god in ruins (E, 21k words): At the time this was the longest story I'd ever written and the first multi-chapter story I'd finished since the LiveJournal days. How things change! Canon-divergence from the very end of s1; what if Halbrand decided to leave Eregion before Galadriel got suspicious?

All the kinds of alive you can be (E, 13k words, also Celeborn/Galadriel, also Celeborn/Sauron/Galadriel): so loads of us have written "what if Sauron shapechanged into Celeborn to seduce Galadriel"; this is "what if Sauron shapechanged into Galadriel to seduce Celeborn, because he's furious with her and obsessed with her and sort of wants to be her all at the same time"?

So Wide a Sea (E, 6k words, also Galadriel/Celeborn): After Sauron's final defeat in the War of the Ring Galadriel remembers a long-ago day on Númenor.

One-shot fics

Five times Halbrand's secret got revealed (T, 6000 words): the first Haladriel fic I ever wrote, of five scenarios of Galadriel learning his name. 'Shadow-Bride' is a continuation of one of these five; 'A man is a god in ruins' is the '...and one time it didn't.'

Tar-Mairon of the Shire (G, 3000 words): entire fix-it fluff, probably more '&' than '/', Hobbits make everything better including Dark Lords.

Tempered (M, 3600 words): written for @thecoziestbean for the spring '24 Haladriel fic exchange.

And white winter, on its knees (M, 1800 words): written for the Haladriel Winter Solstice '23, a what-if Galadriel said yes to Sauron's offer story.

Weakened like Achilles, with you always at my heels (M, 4000 words): written for Haladriel Week '24. A little moment after the Tirharad battle and before the volcano.

I have loved flowers that fade (M, 1700 words): they deserved to have at least one nice time in Eregion before she found out who he was!

Weighed Against Our Future (T, 1800 words): A delirious (or is he?) Halbrand on the road to Eregion.

Shine (T, 3300 words) and its sequel Lady of the Seas (E, 3700 words): Halbrand makes Galadriel's armour on Númenor.

Silver Queen (M, 3600 words): my first 'what if Celebrían was Sauron's daughter?' story, sort of a Haladriel fic and sort of a fix-it for Celebrían.

Civil Twilight (M, 10k words, also Celeborn/Galadriel): for Haladriel Week '23. A 'what if Celebrían was Sauron's daughter?' and 'what if Galadriel finds her missing husband?' story combined.

The turn of the tide (T, 1700 words): For Haladriel Week '23. In the Fourth Age after travelling back to Valinor, Galadriel still feels called to the sea.

Though I sang in my chains like the sea (T, 3000 words): For Haladriel Week '23. They were on that ep2 raft for a while; so this is a gapfiller of them getting to know each other better. Or not.

Blood Sugar (M, 7000 words): the only time I've ever done a modern AU, and even then it doesn't really count because he's still literal Sauron in it. Anyway: Glasgow, professional disillusionment, and difficult relationships with your history.

Ficlets under 1000 words

You built a nest inside my soul, you rest your head on leaves of gold (M, 800 words); Numenor alleyway smut.

How shall summer's honey breath hold out (M, 600 words): and why shouldn't Galadriel get to command an army and have a nice time with the enemy general while heavily pregnant.

Gilded (G, 550 words): another 'what if she said yes on the raft' fic

Not for all my little words (T, 775 words) s1 ep8, Elrond-POV on Galadriel and her weird new friend in Eregion.

Miscellaneous fics:

Half-Maia Celebrían short fics: Suo Gân (G, 1000 words), Arda Sahta (G, 1100 words), As Little Might Be Thought (T, 2600 words). All these are Galadriel/Celeborn (and the last one is also Celebrían/Elrond) and Sauron isn't really in them, but they're all about the impact of that being his child.

To hold all the promise of blue-velvet dark (T, 1700 words) - another 'what if Sauron impersonates Galadriel?' fic, this time featuring baby half-Maia Amroth.

Silmarillion rather than TROP: As certain dark things are loved (M, 8000 words, also Galadriel/Celeborn, also Galadriel/Celeborn/Sauron), for @softlighter for the Sufficiently Advanced '24 exchange. Annatar in 2nd Age Ost-in-Edhil.

[yuurivoice]

Hi Yuuri I just wanted to say I miss Howell. That’s all I hope you have a good day😊

I do too! There's still a lot about him I want to know and figure out. I was able to delve into him a bit more (and get some much needed closure) with some friends. I don't think he's really a character that I want to do various iterations of in different worlds and campaigns, because it's that specific story of his that I love. If it's removed from that world and story, I'd rather have another shot at a new character.

I was able to salvage a couple of relationships out of the rubble from the entire ordeal surrounding TnD, and I've got no beef with anyone who wasn't literal human trash, so Howell's place in my heart is unscathed in terms of being attached to a really shitty time and situation.

Reflecting on those days, that shit was a nightmare scenario. Obviously my own emotional turmoil pales in comparison to the literal criminal and victim in our midst, don't get that twisted because those most directly impacted by one asshole's actions should be the primary concern. It is a hell of a pill to swallow having something that dear to you go up in flames in such a public and grotesque way.

I don't blame anyone who feels any type of way about how it was handled and the aftermath of it. The truth of it all is, one person's really fucked up actions had widespread effects on a lot of people. The radius of that bomb was no joke.

Howell is very dear to me, and those Sundays were genuinely the favorite day of the week for me over that time. The backlash, anger, resentment, and then emptiness of it all really took its toll, as I'm sure it did on everyone caught in the blast zone.

The bad guy got got in the end, and I'm thankful for the folks who made sure that happened.

That year as a whole was really difficult. That wasn't the only heavy thing I had to work through that year. There was a stretch of six months that were probably the worst of my adult life in terms of interpersonal turmoil. The universe really took a bat to my kneecaps.

Saying ALLLLLLLL of that to say, if I had lost my love for Howell, it would have taken a significant toll on me creatively. I would not so freely share the parts of myself it takes to create the stories and characters I do now. I can pretty confidently say that something like Echoes or Shattered would never happen.

I struggled mightily with BitterSweet Chapter 3 for that reason. It was hard to want to carve out pieces of myself to share with the world, and certainly very difficult to work with anyone else out of fear that their bad actions could rob me of my passion even more.

But I learned a lot, and over that time I also think I was able to show my community how serious situations get handled while I'm at the helm. I hate that me and the team have been on the frontlines of a few really serious community PR nightmares, but I do think we've been able to exhibit an ability to treat things with maturity, respect, and direct action.

So Howell means a lot to me. We've been on two journeys, one fictional, and one real...and boy we've gotten our asses kicked more than a few times.

There is a chance, albeit a small one, that there's a DnD story to be told with Howell and some friends, for the world to partake in. Don't know if it'll happen, but the chances aren't 0%...

[rainybyday]

Second part of the first time travel team 7 idea

So next on the list are Uchiha’s

So the Senju patrol found out about Sasuke and Tenzo

The Uchiha?

They find Sakura and Kakashi

(Yes Sai and Obito are out for now)

So I think the beginning problem is how Team Seven are all separated and are all trying to find each other

Tenzo actually found Obito first but they split up for Obito to grab Sai and Tenzo got Sasuke once they felt both got their location from Tenzo’s ability to be a tree whisperer

Sakura found Kakashi and they both were going to find the rest of the pack but they met a returning Uchiha party from a job well done

The party has Izuna 

This will happen for two reason

One is so that they understand at least roughly at what time they appeared in

And Two is that they have an important figure of the Uchiha clan to see Kakashi. No, he doesn’t have Obito’s eye anymore but the prospect of seeing a Hatake so close to their clan compound is what I’m after here

Unlike the Senju patrol who immediately went after Sasuke, the Uchiha’s just stop

Cus like, that’s a HATAKE

SHIT

Like on one hand there is another clan claimed name on their land without their permission 

But on the other, its a Hatake, one of the few clans you want to be wary of and think carefully about when you interact with them

Even with the mask on Kakashi, they still don’t want to test their limits on getting fucken mutilated by Hatake teeth

Feral or not, a calm Hatake is still a Hatake

So Izuna, politely mediates and tries to understand why Kakashi and his cub? Packmember? Are on their land

Especially when said cub/pack member looks like they went through hell and back

Who is the stupid person whom attacked a Hatake pack/cub member???

I have no clue what this conversation will entitled but Sakura and Kakashi are allowed to leave relatively safe by all means

Even though they are freaking the fuck out of what they are just witnessing because was that Sasuke? No? You're not Sasuke??? Then who the fuck-?

Meanwhile, Izuna and his party are booking it back to their compound to tell Madara about the wild Hatake in their lands and to make sure to warn the rest of the clan because if they make a mistake like, oh i don't know, FIGHTING THE HATAKE, then there will be problems

On their end not the Hatake’s 

The Hatakes, while not animals are very protective of their own, a slight against one is a slight against all Hatakes. 

These issues must be mediated carefully. 

So Team Seven!

Kakashi does not have Obito’s eye and Obito has both eyes and has the classic white hair and half white/half tan body. 

Tenzo and Sai aren’t as worse looking as the rest of the team but that doesn’t mean Tenzo lost a vest somewhere in his dimension or how sai doesn’t have any scrolls or that his ink supplies is all over him

Sakura and Obito look the worse off, no questions asked

Sasuke literally looks all bloody from overuse of his Sharingan and he still has the Rinnegan so thats going to go over so will with everyone else

Ah zetsu will find out about that huh….

Naruto looks… okay

The boys going through it

They are all almost chakura depleted but not empty, still have the little bit to survive you know

Ok so back to story

ON the team 7 side I know they will probably find each other and probably make a makeshift base of operation in the location where Konoha will be

Its temporary for them since its the close place they know of in their time and they need to rest

So they rest for a prompt of a few days without any issues

Why is that?

Well on the senju side they just got reports that a uchiha was seen on their land so they of course are angered that their enemy was so close on their land and will have Madara’s head

But at the same time that very same Uchiha was saved by a Senju with the mokuton of all things

So its a whole political shit show with Hashirama trying to understand that not only are an Uchiha and senju in kahoots with each other but that this implies a missing senju member was left unaccounted for by the clan, Tobirama is more uneasy by the multiple chakra signatures that in the forest and the Senju elders are convinced that the Uchiha’s found and used a senju as a tool for war

Meanwhile, the Uchihas are sweating bullets trying to warn the rest of their members about a Hatake pack most likely near or on their grounds and Madara is going through a mountain full of paper trying to write the best most polite but not-directing-blame-nor-accusing letter to the Hatake clan to ask if they had 1) a that a Hatake pack was seen in their lands and 2) that someone may or may not have attacked said pack (but it wasn’t them they swear on Amaterasu’s sake)

Yeah so Team 7 has a lot of time to rest before everything gets set to motion

Mostly it is Tenzo and Sai getting caught up in what happened in the battle of Kaguya, the realization that everyone they ever known are now gone, and trying to survive in this new environment 

Of course there is a lot of self blame and guilt in this

Obito and Kakashi definitely have guilt with each other and their actions that got reflected in their battle

Everyone but the Uchiha’s are realizing who they left behind in their old world and its just… crashing on them

Sasuke is still on the Itachi thing but he is not as emotionally invested like the rest of this team, probably thinking about the battle and the information that he was told of being Indara’s incarnation or somth

Sai has left the people he wanted to be friends with and his chance of being happy with them, yes he still has team 7 but his dream was to befriend everyone and now that's just…. Gone

Tenzo is not stable either ngl

Yeah so first few days are basically the calm before the storm

Then the Uchiha’s get a letter, a letter they expected but not by who sent said letter

They were expecting the Hatake’s to contact them first, not the Senju’s

Then the Madara is reading a letter from Hashirama about the incident the portal had a few days ago and lost it

[elysiaheaven]

𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐊𝐚𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐚, 𝐄𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐩𝐞-𝗗𝗲𝗮𝗿 𝗸𝗮𝘀𝗹𝗮𝗻𝗮- нσηкαι ѕтαя яαιℓ 𝘅 𝗸𝗶𝗮𝗻𝗮 𝗳.𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

words:3677

You entered the dreamscape after having a weird conversation with that blue-haired boy named Misha.

You were falling from the sky, your long white and purple hair flowing wildly in the wind as the stars glittered around you. The idea of becoming a shooting star seemed perfect—radiant, free, and mysterious. With a mischievous grin, you stretched your arms out, ready to blaze across the night sky, leaving a trail of light behind.

But as you soared downward, something caught your eye—a figure, no, two figures, below on the ground. A blonde man was walking with someone, his presence unmistakable even from such a height. Panic mixed with surprise as you realized your trajectory was heading straight for them.

"Ah! Look out!" you cried out, your voice cutting through the night as you tumbled uncontrollably.

Before you could even attempt to adjust your course, the inevitable happened. You crashed right into the blonde man, sending both of you tumbling to the ground in a whirlwind of limbs and confusion. The other person with him gasped, stepping back to avoid the chaotic collision.

When the dust settled, you found yourself sprawled on top of the blonde, your face inches from his. His eyes—magenta and cyan, with black slitted pupils—stared back at you, a mix of shock and something else flickering in their depths.

"Well, that wasn't the grand entrance I had planned," you muttered, half embarrassed and half amused.

He blinked, clearly trying to process what just happened. "You... fell from the sky?"

"Yep, like a shooting star! Except, you know, I missed the whole 'shooting' part." You grinned, not bothering to move from your current position.

The man raised an eyebrow, a smirk slowly forming on his lips. "I should've placed a bet on when a star would land on me."

The other person, who had been silently watching, finally spoke up. "Are you both alright? and didn't you and I fell down too?" They seemed more concerned than amused by the situation.

You pushed yourself up, standing and offering a hand to the man you had just knocked over. "Sorry about that! Didn't mean to crash your night."

He took your hand, getting to his feet with surprising grace for someone who'd just had a surprise encounter with gravity. "No harm done. But maybe next time, give a little warning before you try to become a celestial body?"

You laughed, brushing off your clothes. "I'll keep that in mind. But hey, who knows? Maybe I'm the luck you needed tonight."

As the blonde man dusted himself off, you couldn't help but notice the other person—the one who had been walking with him—watching you with a cool, almost analytical expression. There was a distinct chill in his gaze, as if he was measuring you up and finding you lacking.

The blonde man, however, seemed more amused than anything. He flashed a charming smile, the kind that hinted at mischief, and offered his hand again, this time for a proper introduction.

"Name's Aventurine," he said smoothly, his voice carrying a playful lilt. "And you've already made quite the impression, crashing into me like that. I don't usually meet stars in such a... literal way."

You took his hand, trying to ignore how your face was probably giving away every bit of your embarrassment. "I'm, uh, just a bit clumsy, I guess," you replied, unable to keep from grinning like an idiot. "Nice to meet you, Aventurine."

The other man stepped forward, his demeanor contrasting sharply with Aventurine's warm friendliness. His pink eyes with that unusual yellow ring around the pupils regarded you with a distant coldness. He didn't bother extending a hand, his tone as frosty as his gaze when he finally spoke.

"Dr. Ratio," he introduced himself curtly, as if the formality was a mere obligation. "You should be more careful. Not everyone appreciates such... dramatic entrances."

You chuckled awkwardly, feeling like a fool under his scrutinizing stare. "Yeah, I'll try to stick to less dangerous ways of saying hello next time."

Ratio's expression didn't soften in the slightest, and he seemed more interested in moving on from this encounter. "See that you do," he said, his tone clipped before turning his attention back to Aventurine. "We should continue. We have work to do."

Aventurine, however, didn't seem in any hurry to leave. In fact, his attention remained fixed on you, his interest evident as his smile widened. "Oh, come now, Ratio. Don't be so harsh. Our friend here just wanted to make an entrance. And what an entrance it was! Besides," he added, his voice lowering in a way that made your heart skip, "how often do we get to meet someone who literally fell out of the sky?"

You laughed, a bit too loud and a bit too nervous, rubbing the back of your head. "Well, I do try to be memorable."

Aventurine chuckled, clearly enjoying your flustered state. "That you are. And I'd love to hear more about how you ended up falling into our path. Perhaps over a drink? I think a story like yours deserves a proper setting."

You grinned back at him, feeling a mix of relief and excitement at his interest. "Sure! I mean, I could use a drink after all that. And who knows, maybe I'll get to hear some of your stories too."

Ratio rolled his eyes, clearly unimpressed with the turn of events. "Aventurine, we're wasting time."

Aventurine waved a dismissive hand. "Relax, Ratio. Sometimes the best investments are made in the most unexpected encounters. You can go on ahead if you're in such a rush, but I think I'll stick around a bit longer."

Ratio's eyes narrowed slightly, but he didn't argue further. With a sharp nod, he turned and walked away, leaving you alone with Aventurine.

As Ratio's figure disappeared into the distance, Aventurine turned back to you, his gaze sparkling with interest. "So, how about that drink."

You couldn't help but laugh, your earlier embarrassment fading under his playful attention. "Lead the way, Aventurine."

You and Aventurine made your way to a nearby café, he was in high spirits, clearly enjoying your company. The evening was turning out to be unexpectedly delightful, with the prospect of a few more stories and possibly a bit of mischief.

When you finally settled at a cozy table, Aventurine's charming demeanor took a playful turn. He leaned in close, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "You know," he said with a grin, "I've been thinking. Since you're an Astral Express member and I'm a bit of an... extravagant spender, how about we join tabs? I'd hate to see you go hungry while we're having such a delightful time."

You raised an eyebrow, the offer sounding a bit too convenient for someone so keen on making an impression. "Nice try, but I think I'll pass. I prefer to keep things straightforward."

Aventurine's smile didn't waver. "Fair enough. But don't think I'm going to let you go without at least treating you to something. Consider it a small token of appreciation for making my night so memorable."

You were about to protest when he waved down a waiter and began ordering a seemingly endless array of dishes. It was a feast fit for royalty, with everything from exotic appetizers to decadent desserts. You watched in awe as the table filled up with an impressive spread, your earlier reservations melting away in the face of such abundance.

As you dug into the food, your initial hesitation faded. Aventurine's presence was both engaging and amusing, and the food was absolutely delicious. You couldn't help but smile as you indulged in the feast, every bite more satisfying than the last.

At one point, as you were savoring a particularly delectable pastry, your device buzzed with a new message. You glanced at it, only to find a text from someone named "Anonymous":

You're an idiot. Aventurine's just a two-faced fool. Don't get used by someone like him.

Your smile faltered, and you glanced up at Aventurine, who was currently savoring a dish with unabashed enjoyment. You hesitated, then decided to bring up the message.

"Hey, Aventurine, I just got a message saying you're a two-faced fool and that I shouldn't get used by you. What's that all about?"

Aventurine paused mid-bite, a hint of surprise crossing his face before he broke into a hearty laugh. "Ah, Ratio's little gift to you, I see."

You blinked in confusion. "Ratio?"

"Yes, Ratio," Aventurine confirmed, still chuckling. "He has a habit of being overly critical of me. The truth is, he's just envious of the way I manage to get by with a bit of flair and a lot of charm."

You frowned, feeling a bit uneasy. "So, is there any truth to what they said?"

Aventurine waved a dismissive hand, his grin reassuring. "Oh, Ratio's right about one thing—I'm certainly not without my flaws. But I assure you, I'm not trying to deceive you or use you. I genuinely enjoy your company, and tonight has been quite fun."

You studied him for a moment, trying to gauge his sincerity. The way he was looking at you, with that playful glint in his eyes and the way he had been treating you throughout the evening, made it hard to believe he had any malicious intent.

You hesitated, the earlier message from Ratio still lingering in your mind. The food was incredible, and Aventurine's company was undeniably charming, but something about the situation didn't sit right with you.

You swallowed your last bite and looked at him, the warmth in your smile fading. "Actually, Aventurine... I think partnering up might be a bad idea. I'm all for having fun, but I'd rather keep things simple. Maybe we should just enjoy the meal and call it a night."

Aventurine's grin didn't waver, but you noticed a flicker of something else in his eyes—something calculating. He leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingers lightly on the table as if considering your words carefully.

"Are you sure about that?" he asked, his tone still light but with an undercurrent that made you uneasy.

You nodded, trying to maintain your resolve. "Yeah, I think it's for the best. I don't want to complicate things."

He stood up slowly, his movements smooth and deliberate as he walked around the table toward you. There was a newfound intensity in his gaze, and you felt a chill run down your spine as he closed the distance between you. In his hand, he held a small chip, which he began to twirl between his fingers, the metallic surface catching the light in a way that seemed almost hypnotic.

Aventurine leaned in close, his voice dropping to a whisper as he spoke directly into your ear. "You know," he murmured, his breath warm against your skin, "I happen to know a lot of things—secrets, if you will. Secrets about everyone on the Astral Express. Things that could make life very difficult for a lot of people."

You stiffened, the implications of his words sending a wave of dread through you. "What are you saying, Aventurine?"

He pulled back slightly, just enough to look into your eyes, his grin now sharper, more dangerous. "I'm saying that if you don't cooperate with me, I might just reveal those secrets. I'm sure you wouldn't want that, would you? After all, we've had such a lovely evening so far... it'd be a shame to end it on a sour note."

You swallowed hard, the weight of his threat pressing down on you. "Are you blackmailing me?"

He tilted his head, his smile never fading. "Blackmail is such an ugly word. Think of it as... a persuasive offer. One you can't refuse."

Your mind raced, trying to think of a way out of this situation. Aventurine had gone from charming to menacing in a heartbeat, and now you were caught in his web, with no clear way to escape.

Just as Aventurine's words hung in the air, the tension thickening, you heard the sound of footsteps approaching. You turned your head, relief flooding through you as a figure emerged from the crowd. It was Sunday, his presence commanding and serene, his golden irises locking onto you with a calm intensity.

"Is there a problem here?" Sunday asked, his voice gentle yet carrying a weight that made it clear he wasn't to be trifled with.

Aventurine's smile didn't falter, but you noticed the slight tightening of his grip on the chip in his hand. "No problem at all," he said smoothly. "I was just having a friendly chat with my lovely companion here. We were just about to discuss some... personal matters."

Sunday's gaze flicked between you and Aventurine, taking in the situation with a sharp, discerning look. "It seems Mr. Aventurine is a very busy man. Perhaps it would be better if I accompanied you for the rest of the evening. I wouldn't want to impose on your time, Mr. Aventurine."

Aventurine chuckled, though there was a dangerous edge to it now. He stepped closer to you, his eyes narrowing slightly as he looked at Sunday. "I'm sure you wouldn't, but the thing is, *she* was with me first. Besides, we were having a good time, weren't we?" He turned his gaze to you, a hint of challenge in his expression. "Why don't you make the choice? Who would you rather spend your evening with?"

Your heart raced as both men looked at you, each with a different intensity. Sunday's calm and protective demeanor was a stark contrast to Aventurine's charming yet menacing presence. You hesitated, feeling the weight of their expectations pressing down on you.

Sunday remained composed, but you could see the subtle tension in his posture as he awaited your decision. Aventurine, on the other hand, seemed almost eager, as if he relished the game he was playing.

Finally, you took a deep breath and looked at both of them, trying to steady your nerves. "I think..." You glanced at Sunday, then back at Aventurine, who was still holding that chip, the unspoken threat lingering in the air. "Maybe it's better if I—"

Before you could finish, Aventurine leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper only you could hear. "Remember what I said. Think carefully, because once you make your choice, there's no going back."

The subtle menace in his tone sent a shiver down your spine. Your eyes darted to Sunday, whose gaze softened, silently offering you reassurance.

You steeled yourself, your decision solidifying in your mind. 

Choosing Aventurine

You hesitated for just a moment, but the allure of Aventurine's charm was too strong to resist. His presence was magnetic, drawing you in even as the warning bells rang in the back of your mind. Before you could second-guess yourself, you reached out and placed your hand in his. Aventurine's grin widened, a mix of satisfaction and something darker playing across his face as he firmly pulled you closer to him.

"Well, then, I guess that settles it," Aventurine said with a smug edge to his voice, not even sparing Sunday a second glance as he started to walk away, guiding you through the bustling streets. You turned back, feeling a pang of guilt as you met Sunday's calm, understanding gaze. You mouthed a quick "sorry" to him, hoping he would understand.

Sunday's expression remained unchanged, though there was a flicker of something in his eyes—disappointment, perhaps, or maybe just concern. He nodded slightly, a silent acknowledgment of your choice, but you couldn't shake the feeling that you had made a mistake.

As Aventurine led you away, his hand warm and firm around yours, he glanced down at you, his tone light and teasing. "Looks like you made the right choice. We'll have plenty of fun tonight, trust me."

As you walked hand-in-hand with Aventurine, the unease from your decision gnawed at you. His grip was firm, almost too tight, and the playful charm he had shown earlier now felt suffocating. You mustered the courage to pull your hand back, trying to create some distance.

"Let go," you demanded, your voice more assertive than you felt.

Aventurine didn't stop walking, nor did he loosen his hold. Instead, he looked down at you with an intensity that made your breath catch. His magenta and cyan eyes seemed to pierce right through you, all traces of his earlier playfulness gone. "Shut up for a while," he said, his tone cold and commanding, sending a chill down your spine.

Before you could react, he suddenly pulled you into a dark corner, pressing you against the wall. You were about to protest when his hand flew up to cover your mouth, silencing you. His eyes weren't on you anymore; they were focused on something—or someone—else. You followed his gaze and saw Sunday, but something was wrong.

Sunday's form shimmered, and in the blink of an eye, he changed. The dignified man you knew had transformed into a girl with short, black hair tipped in red, her clothing a striking crimson. She exuded a dangerous aura, her eyes sharp and calculating as she scanned the area.

Your eyes widened in shock, and a scream began to rise in your throat. Before you could make a sound, Aventurine's hand clamped down over your mouth, muffling any noise you might have made. He leaned in close, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, "Don't. She's a Masked Fool."

You froze, the words sinking in. The Masked Fools were notorious, and you knew enough to understand that getting their attention was a death sentence. You stared at the girl who had once been Sunday, your heart hammering in your chest.

Aventurine's grip on you tightened, his eyes never leaving the girl as she moved further away, her presence still menacing even from a distance. When she finally disappeared into the crowd, he slowly released his hold on your mouth but kept you pinned against the wall.

"Stay quiet and stay with me," Aventurine whispered, his voice a mix of warning and something else, something almost protective. "You have no idea what you just got yourself into."

You nodded, too stunned to speak, the reality of the situation crashing down on you. Aventurine might be dangerous, but at that moment, he was the only thing standing between you and something far worse.

Kaslana out!

[miss-may-i]

Miss May I: Season 5 Part 29

*Music blaring*

*Phone ringing*

Richie: Bella?

Isabella: ???

Richie: Hold on, Bella. The music is really loud. I can't hear you. Let me go outside.

Isabella: *Sobbing*

Richie: Bell, what's the matter?

Isabella: Can you come home please?

Richie: I--I can't. I'm at school and I have exams. What's going on?

Isabella: I just really need someone to be here with me right now.

Richie: What happened?

Isabella: *Sobbing*

Richie: Bella, please just tell me what happened. M--Maybe I can come out if it's that serious.

Isabella: My--

Isabella: Parents--

Isabella: Are--

Isabella: Getting--

Isabella: A--

Isabella: Divorce!

Richie: That's it? God, you had me so worried.

Isabella: What do you mean that's it?!

Richie: I'm really sorry that's happening, but I can't come home and risk failing my first exams for that. What about Julie? Her parents are divorced. She knows what it's like.

Isabella: It's not the same. Julie has her own problems. I just really need you right now.

Richie: I wish I could, but I can't.

Isabella: But you can party.

Richie: I'm not partying. Well, my roommates are. That's why it's so hard to study.

Isabella: Are there other girls there?

Richie: I dunno. Probably.

Isabella: Fine, go study.

*hangs up*

Richie: Bella? Bella?

Scotty: Hey Richie, Richi! Why's that your name if you're so broke?

Richie: Let go of me!

Scotty: So, what did I just interrupt?

Richie: None of your business.

Scotty: You know what is my business? Getting you back inside and introducing you to these great girls I just met. Maybe we can finally get you laid tonight.

Richie: I told you, I'm not interested.

Scotty: Riiiiight. 'Cause of your girlfriend. The one who was just busting your balls, right? One drink, two tops. A drink never hurt nobody.

Richie: ...

Richie: Fine, one drink. Only if you let go.

Previous |��Beginning | Next

Season 1 | Season 2 | Season 3 | Season 4

Family Tree

[inawickedlittletown]

Just Let Me Adore You (BuckTommy) -2/6

Summary: What if…instead of Chimney taking the role of interim Captain of the 118, Tommy is asked to take on the role.

Or, what happens when Buck meets Tommy in S2

Words: 3.4k

Notes: Title from Adore You by Harry Styles

Read on Ao3

Part One

-

Part Two

After growing up in Hershey, chocolate factories didn’t impress Buck much. He’d gone to the Hershey factory a few times on school trips and it’d been fun the first few times. Buck wasn’t even sure if it was his proximity and how often he had that chocolate as a kid, but he really wasn’t all that fond of it. He’d also had some great chocolate down in South America that made anything American pale in comparison. Not a lot of people knew it, but that was where cacao beans came from. It wasn’t Mexico either like some though, but Ecuador. 

The Seymour Chocolate Factory wasn’t even one he’d heard of and he kinda figured the chocolate probably wasn’t even that good, though they did leave with a small bag of chocolates by the end of the call. The call came about a guy that had fallen right into a chocolate vat while on a tour. 

As they were walking up, Buck heard Tommy say to Chim, “this would be the moment the Oompa Loompas give us a musical number.” 

Buck had no idea what he meant, but there was no time to ask for clarification. 

None of them had any idea how to get the guy out of the chocolate vat until, after a few failed attempts, Tommy pulled out his phone. They all eyed him. 

“What? A good Captain uses his resources. In this case, Bobby probably knows more about chocolate than anyone I know. Unless one of you has a better idea?” 

He wasn’t wrong. Bobby’s advice worked and between all of them they had the teacher out and then on a stretcher. 

Buck held himself back as they walked out and wound up next to Tommy. 

“That was a good call, getting Bobby on the phone.” 

Tommy smiled at him, crinkle eyed and gorgeous. Why was he so good looking? More importantly, why couldn’t Buck stop noticing? 

“It wasn’t like he was going to get flushed out or sucked up in a tube,” Tommy said. 

“What are you talking about?” Buck asked. 

“Willy Wonka,” Tommy said. 

“Who?” 

Tommy stopped and turned to look at him, making Buck almost run straight into him. 

“Okay, I’d understand if you never saw the original movie, but you have to have seen the remake? Johnny Depp was in it.”

“Uh, no,” Buck said. 

“It was a book,” Tommy said next. “Roald Dahl. Oompa Loompas? The kid that got turned into a blueberry?”

Buck stared at him blankly. 

“This means nothing to you, does it?” 

Buck shrugged. 

When they finally made it out, the ambulance had already left, Hen having gone with it. Chim and Eddie waited by the truck. 

“He’s never seen Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory,” Tommy announced as if Buck had committed some kind of crime.

Buck was used to missing movie references. Chim had long given up expecting Buck to get what he was talking about. Buck had always been that kid that couldn’t sit still long enough to get through a movie. That and all the time he spent outdoors doing daring thing after daring thing. Not to mention that his parents hadn’t been big on tv time. 

“He’s never seen much of anything,” Chim said with a laugh. “Him and his sister both. You’d think they were raised in some commune, but instead they’re just from Pennsylvania. I’ve taken on the task of introducing her to some classics.”

Buck shrugged his shoulders. “So, what exactly are these oompa lumps?” 

“Oompa Loompas,” Tommy said. “And you won’t understand until you watch it.” 

When he turned to Eddie, Eddie just shrugged at him, but he was grinning in that way that meant Eddie was too amused by the whole thing to help. Chim mimed zipping his lips closed. Looking at Tommy just got him a shake of his head. They also banned him from looking it up and on the way back to the station, Chim even grabbed his phone out of his hands even though Buck wasn’t going to google it. 

“I can just look it up when I get home,” Buck told them. 

“Or you could watch it,” Tommy suggested. 

“Only if you watch it with me,” Buck shot back, not sure exactly why he said it.  

Tommy didn’t respond at once and Buck felt like he’d gone and put his foot in it. But then, “Yeah. Alright. If only to make sure you actually watch it.”

—

He tried to invite Chim and Eddie over to watch Willy Wonka with him and Evan, but neither of them was interested or available even if they did want Tommy to let them know how it went. Hen had also turned him down in favor of a date night with her wife. So, Tommy was on his own. Due to Evan’s living situation, he also had to host. So at least they got to use his living room with his big screen tv and sound bar. 

Evan showed up with pizza, beer, and a veggie tray. He looked a little nervous even after Tommy invited him in. He watched as Evan took in Tommy’s house. It was very much a work in progress and Tommy had been doing most of the work on his own, so it was taking him a while to get through all of it. He expected it would be at least a year or two before he was finally satisfied by which point something would need to be repaired or repainted. 

“I like your place,” Evan said. 

“Really? It’s a bit of a half finished mess.” 

“But one you’re clearly putting time into,” Evan said. “And you’ll like the end result because of it.” 

“Well, lucky for us, one of the things I did finish is the living room.” 

It was the thing he’d tackled right after the kitchen — which technically wasn’t even done — , the upstairs bathroom, and parts of his bedroom. He needed a place to relax and wind down after long shifts. So, it had become a priority. Tommy led Evan there and cleared off the coffee table for the food. 

They sat down side by side on his couch and Tommy grabbed the remote. 

“It’s an older movie,” Tommy informed Evan. “I think you’ll like it, though.” 

Evan got into it pretty quickly. He did ask questions like about the bed the grandparents shared and Tommy mostly just told him to keep watching. Tommy was more of a romcom re-watcher, so he hadn’t actually watched Willy Wonka in years. Still, it was more fun to get Evan’s reaction to things. He’d forgotten how eccentric and weird the movie was and watching Evan react was everything. He expressed so much and laughed with so much surprise that it was absolutely endearing. 

“Those are the Oompa Loompas!” Evan exclaimed when he first saw them, giggling. “I get it now.” 

By the time they finished the movie, Evan had turned to him with a big grin. “Okay, that was actually pretty good, if a little odd. You said there was a remake?” 

Tommy nodded. “Yeah. It’s different, but still good. Wonka is completely different. The whole vibe is different.” 

“Might have to check that out,” Evan said with a smile. After a pause, “We could have another movie night?” 

“That’d be nice,” Tommy said and he meant it. 

Evan stayed a little bit after the movie, discussing the more ridiculous aspects of it. Then, somehow, talking about what Tommy would be tackling next on the house. 

“I did construction,” Evan offered. “I can help out if you ever need a second hand.” 

The thought of Evan working with him to put new flooring down or to sand and stain his cabinet doors was far more appealing than it should be, but he nodded and thought that he wouldn’t actually ask Evan for help. He might not survive it if he saw Evan dressed down and sweaty doing physical work in Tommy’s own home. 

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he told him. 

—

Phone calls with Ali were getting exhausting. Buck had known what he was signing up for when he started dating her. She’d been clear from the start that she traveled for work and considering Buck’s own hours he’d figured it’d be fine. It was for a while. When she was in LA it was always fun. It was different from Abby and Buck liked that. Still, it always left him feeling a little left behind whenever she went off on yet another trip. She’d call, but it wasn’t the same as having her in LA. It wasn’t the same as being able to just see her whenever he wanted and that made it hard. 

When the time between calls started lengthening and lengthening, it almost even felt like he wasn’t dating anyone at all. One night they even had a discussion about opening up the relationship, making things more casual. Not that they were even necessarily talking about each other in any serious manner to begin with. 

“It’d be a lot easier on both of us,” Ali had explained. “You can be free to meet other people and so can I.” 

Buck hadn’t argued with her or known how to approach such a suggestion. Maybe he should have. It had just felt like if he didn’t she would just leave him once and for all. He tried his hardest not to think about her out there meeting other guys and maybe finding something better elsewhere. Someone better. For his part, he didn’t want to go back to who he used to be, so he didn’t even try to meet anyone else. 

It wasn’t until…but no, Tommy was a guy. Buck wasn’t interested in him like that. He wasn’t, right? He tried not to think about their movie night. How it had felt to sit on Tommy’s couch feeling his warmth next to him watching chocolate shenanigans and being perplexed by the whole thing and then also feeling Tommy’s gaze on him. There was just something about him. Buck felt like a magnet being pulled in by a force he couldn’t fight — one he didn’t want to fight. And that…that was scary. 

It was what found him knocking on Bobby’s apartment. 

“Hey,” Bobby said and motioned him in. “Want some water?” 

“Uh. Yeah. Sure.” 

Bobby’s table was covered in wedding stuff. 

“Am I here at a bad time?” 

“Not at all. What’s going on, Buck?” 

Buck sank into the chair. “Bobby, you gotta come back to work.” 

Bobby chuckled as he set down a glass of water in front of Buck. “I’d love to. It’s not up to me.”

“Isn’t there anything we can do? Can’t we like write letters or something? Talk to them?” 

Bobby shook his head. “I don’t think that will help, Buck. What’s going on? I thought Tommy was doing well.” 

Buck kinda panicked then because Tommy was actually good at being Captain. He was different than Bobby, of course, but not in a way that made Buck or really anyone on the team want him gone. Tommy was knowledgeable and his own expectations about how the equipment was kept and how everything was stocked. While he’d hung back a bit the first few shifts, after that he’d jumped right into action with them, knew how to balance being in charge and telling them what to do with also being part of the solution. Buck was more than a little impressed with him. 

 “No, no, he’s doing fine. He’s a good Captain. He’s not you, but he’s good. Way he handled that bombing the other day? Or the chocolate factory…I can see why he was picked to hold your spot.” 

“I’m glad you like him,” Bobby said with a smile. “So, what’s happening, Buck?”

“Ali wants an open relationship,” Buck blurted out. 

He could tell that he’d shocked Bobby, at least for a moment. He recovered quickly. “Is that something you want?” 

“Not really,” Buck admitted. “Or…well, I don’t know. You know it’s not unusual or anything and it works for some people. You know, some people think that people aren’t meant to be monogamous. I don’t think I’m too bothered by it like as a concept.” 

“But this is not a concept. It’s your life, Buck.” 

“Yeah. I know,” Buck said and it was entirely the problem. 

Okay, so it wasn’t like Buck didn’t know that he had a bit of a slut era. His Buck 1.0 days…Buck wasn’t ashamed of them. And maybe in that time he’d explored a bit. One thing that Buck had realized was that he could never do threesomes. They were complicated and Buck was bad about sharing. Jealous, even. 

Bobby stared at him and Buck stared back. If he could just share all his thoughts with Bobby without saying them outloud, it would actually solve everything. Not even just his Ali problem, but maybe the near obsession he was having about Tommy. 

“I don’t think the problem is the open relationship,” Buck said.

He thought about Abby leaving and how she had tried to tell him in a roundabout way that what she wanted was to be free from everything and everything included him. He hadn’t been in love with her, though he had loved her. Cared about her. Convinced himself he would have a future with her. Had he realized what Abby meant by Eat, Pray, Love, Buck was actually sure that he would have been upset. Then again, it wouldn’t have been some dragged out thing. 

With Ali…shouldn’t he be more upset? Shouldn’t he be angry and maybe even jealous because why was she bringing it up if she didn’t already have someone that she wanted to sleep with? Was this her roundabout way of saying that they were over? 

“I don’t think I should be so…so okay with it. Or not care,” Buck said. 

“Oh,” Bobby said. 

Maybe it was that she was gone all the time. Gone so much that Buck hadn’t had any time to get attached. Not really. Not in the way that mattered. 

“Then maybe this would work for you, if you were looking for something different,” Bobby tried.  

Tommy came to mind right away. Except that…he couldn’t do that to someone, least of all Tommy. Buck groaned, as if that were even an option. 

“Buck?” 

“What if…” Buck trailed off. He couldn’t say it. “No. I guess I should talk to Ali.” 

“That’s probably a good start. You know, I don’t have to be your Captain for us to have these talks.” 

“No, but it would be less confusing if you were,” Buck muttered on his way out and didn’t know if Bobby had heard him. 

—

He could see the devastation on Eddie’s face. The woman — his wife — was on the stretcher and from what Chimney had whispered to him and Tommy’s own experience she wasn’t going to make it. She was already dead even if it hadn’t caught up to her. Eddie didn’t seem to know it fully yet, but he watched as Hen and Chim worked on her. 

“We need to intubate,” Hen said from inside the ambulance.

Chim stopped her. “No.” 

“No?” Hen asked. 

Chim shook his head and his eyes met Tommy’s, before looking to Eddie. 

“Chim’s right,” he said. “I’m sorry, Eddie.” 

He could tell that Eddie understood. He’d been an Army medic, had worked as a firefighter long enough that of course he knew. 

“If they intubate,” Tommy said, “that tube may never come out. Right now, before they do that, just take a minute.” 

“He knows,” Chim said. “Eddie, I’m sorry…this is…come on, you can say goodbye to her.” 

There was nothing that could have prepared any of them to arrive at a call to find that the one person seriously injured — other than the driver — was the wife of one of his firefighters. 

Tommy gripped Eddie’s shoulder, not that it made much difference and then he watched Eddie climb into the ambulance. Tommy closed the door behind them and then turned around. 

“Hey,” Evan said. “Is she—”

Tommy shook his head. Evan let out a sigh and he pressed his lips together. He took a quick glance around. The driver had been loaded into another ambulance. The minor injuries had already been looked at. Evan let out a sigh and his eyes met Tommy’s again, looking a bit glassy. 

“We should go to the hospital,” Tommy said. 

“Yeah.” 

He wasn’t surprised when Bobby arrived, was glad to see him so that some of this burden wasn’t on Tommy. It was more than a job, these people were Bobby’s family and they needed him. Tommy wasn’t that for them and he wasn’t all that close to Eddie to offer the comfort that Bobby could 

Eddie left with Bobby, clutching a bag with her belongings and looking lost in a way that Tommy had never experienced for himself. 

They didn’t talk about it on the way back to the station and he told dispatch to take them off line for the remaining time left on their shift because it was only a few hours and they were all more than a little distracted. The 118 could go back online once B-shift took over. He found Evan in front of the tv, staring out into nothing. 

“Did you know her well?” he asked. 

“No,” Evan said. “Met her a few times here or there, but that was all. Eddie really cared about her, they were kinda reconnecting, I guess. She hadn’t been a part of Eddie’s or Christopher’s life for a bit. Now…”

“That poor kid,” Tommy said because he hadn’t even thought about Eddie’s son. 

Eddie had probably told him by now, had torn his world apart. At least Christopher would have a good dad. He would have Eddie there to grieve with. He would have a dad that cared and that loved him even if he never saw his mother again. 

“Yeah,” Evan said. 

Life was like that, made up of tragedies. 

The next time he saw Eddie, it was a few days later. Tommy had arrived early to do some paperwork and the last person he expected to see was Eddie. He was in civilian clothes at least, not that Tommy would have allowed him to work even if he’d gotten the uniform on. 

“Hey, Eddie, how are you doing?” 

“Alright, everything considered. Funeral’s in a couple of days.” 

He still looked lost. Like he was still out on that street looking at Shannon. 

“Well the last thing I want you to worry about is work,” Tommy said. “Take all the time that you need.” 

“Even with all those bombs showing up?” Eddie asked and shook his head. “No. I think I’ll need to work. I’ll need to be back so I can stop thinking about it. Stop picturing it.” 

It felt like a mistake. He didn’t want to say no and he didn’t want to make things harder for Eddie, and yet in their line of work there was no room for distractions. Distractions led to mistakes and mistakes in their line of work could be life or death. 

“Look, that’s…I’m not saying you shouldn’t come back at once. I just, I want your head to be in it. I want you to be in the right state of mind. Have you thought about talking to someone?”

Eddie looked taken aback. “What?” 

Tommy should have expected it. Guy like Eddie who’d been in the Army and who had probably not bothered to do any therapy after it, of course he didn’t think he needed it now. 

“The department has good grief counselors, Eddie,” Tommy said. “I won’t put any restrictions on when you can return, but I want you to see one…if they say that you’re fit to work and willing to do a few more sessions then that’s that.” 

Eddie looked like he wanted to argue, but Tommy was going to hold strong on that. He didn’t know what Bobby would have done in his place, but Tommy knew what Gerrard had done for a firehouse and a team that had lost one of their own. Tommy knew what Captain Reid at Harbor would do, too. 

“Are you serious right now?” Eddie asked. 

Tommy sighed. “Eddie, come on. I have a whole team to look out for here and this is not even really my house.” He lifted an eyebrow. 

“Okay,” Eddie said. “Fine. If that’s the only way.”  

“It’ll help, Eddie. I don’t…I’ve never been married, but I’ve lost important people. I get it. It isn’t easy and it won’t be for a while. How’s your son doing?” 

“As fine as he can be doing,” Eddie said. “My parents are here. My sisters. It’s helping him. It’s stressing me out.” 

“Parents are never easy. If you need to get away, give me a call. There are distractions that aren’t work, you know?”