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look-at-the-soul · 4 months

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Every little thing you do- Part 8

Tommy Shelby x reader

Master list

A/N: another part, another thank you for reading and following this series! I had the initial idea for this chapter for Tommy and Y/N to witness something that brings them closer, then I realized it got longer than I expected 🫢 so I’ll have to hold the introduction of another character for the upcoming part 🤭 bare with me in this ride! And enjoy the slow burn 🥰

Word count: 3,595

Gypsy poem mentioned

“Mr. Benston, what do I owe the pleasure of your call?” Tommy held the receiver against his ear.

“Mr. Shelby I hope you’re doing well.”

Tommy rolled his eyes at the fake sentiment, he wanted to end the call as soon as possible.

“There’s really no other way to tell you this, but here it goes…” Tommy heard him sigh at the other end. “Rumors are spread easily and unfortunately, people believe it wherever it’s true or not.”

“I’m not following you.” Tommy stated, getting annoyed by the minute, he wanted everything done right and fast. “Where do you want to go with this Mr. Benston?”

“Mrs. Benston overheard our maids talking about the woman in charge of the charity, I know she’s close to your family and I’m not judging you, to be honest. But if I’m donating money I don’t want it to be involved in gossip and rumors.”

Leaning on his desk, Tommy looked at the ceiling and felt his jaw clenching. “What rumors are you talking about?”

“The maid assured my wife, this woman in charge…”

“YL/N. It’s Miss YL/N.” Tommy corrected him.

“Miss YL/N doesn’t know who the father of her child is. At some point she even mentioned the child is yours therefore why you put her in charge of the charity.”

The last thing Tommy wanted for Y/N was this exactly, having her rolling from mouth to mouth, people taking about her, walking over her reputation. The realization hit him hard and he pinched the bridge of his nose in a attempt to remain under control.

“There are morals and values we still swear by Mr. Shelby… and you can have as many children outside marriage as you please, but the charity needs a woman who’s at certain level, a match for our society.”

“Mr. Benston so your main concern is Y/N’s reputation because she’s not married.” He swore under his breath. “Or because you’re unsure if I’m that baby’s father.”

“That’s correct.”

“With all due respect, it’s a personal matter so that’s none of your business in the first place.” Tommy took a deep breath. “Secondly, how would it make you look in front of your beloved society if people knew about the affair you had with your maid, which led her to get pregnant with your child and since your wife wasn’t able to carry one, you stole that baby from the mother and locked her in a mental hospital?”

A heavy silence set between them.

Tommy knew a lot of dirty secrets and a bunch of respectable people who were everything but respectable.

“Hmm?” He added more pressure to the wound. “Mrs. Benston has been doing a wonderful joy raising a boy that isn’t hers by blood, a Benston heir right?”

Again, silence at the other side.

“Maids are a wonderful thing huh? They know a lot of dirty little secrets…”

Y/N strolled through the Shelby Company Ltd. under the curious eyes and glances of the secretaries, she definitely noticed the way they stared at her from head to toe, stopping an uncomfortable amount of time in her belly.

What were they looking at?

Why would they turn around and start mouthing to the closest secretary something she couldn’t understand?

Fixing her eyes on the floor, she decided to keep walking, this would happen sooner or later, she just needed to create an armor around her, a strong shell to protect her and her baby from judging glances and people with bad blood.

Knocking softly on Tommy’s door, she opened it and poking her head she found him inviting her in, but she got the hint to remain quiet while he was on the phone, so she took seat in one of the couches, her legs were on fire, she wanted to take a long bath.

“So I think from now on, you’ll double your generous donation Mr. Benston correct? Did I hear you right?”

Throwing a quick glance in Y/N’s direction, he winked at her. The phone call turned around quickly and ended with Mr. Benston being backfired,

“Yes, the Shelby Institute feels so thankful for your selflessness. Bye.” Hanging up, Tommy turned around to place the phone in its place.

Y/N raised her eyebrows. “What was that?”

Tommy cleared his throat and went on to pour himself a glass of whiskey. “Just a really wealthy man willing to donate the institution a generous amount each month.” He explained with a wicked smile.

Tommy felt bad for lying to her, but he couldn’t bare to hurt her. He just hoped the word wouldn’t spread like gunpowder around.

“Oh… well I just came to show you the numbers Michael did, considering what we already raised,” she sighed loudly.

“What is it?” Tommy eyed her from the corner of his eye.

“I don’t know what’s going on outside but all your secretaries were giving me strange glances, as if they’ve never seen a pregnant woman before.” She chuckled.

Tommy’s head snapped in Y/N’s direction, her words caught his attention, he was always a step ahead of everyone and everything, how could he didn’t see this coming?

Something made click in his mind instantly. Someone must’ve spread the word around, therefore the sudden call he got and what Y/N just mentioned. Feeling a sudden urge to protect Y/N, Tommy decided to do something to distract her, he didn’t want her to suffer and pay for something that wasn’t her fault.

“Come with me.”

And Y/N did, she followed him because she knew there was no way to say no to him. She waved at Esme goodbye on their way out, a few days ago she announced her pregnancy with barely a bump, and now Esme was showing almost as her.

“May I ask how is the business doing?” Y/N asked in a low tone, wondering if she was interrupting his thoughts. Shuddering in the process, that business was almost a secret, the Shelby brothers were communicating through glances when anyone else was around.

“No.” Tommy answered in a serious tone but then wrinkles appeared around the corner of his eyes when he smiled. “Don’t be noisy.”

“I’m not noisy.” Y/N pouted.

“Yeah sure.” He was back into his usual self teasing and joking with her. “Do you know Russian?” Y/N shook her head. “Then you can’t help.”

“Ah come on, you don’t speak Russian either.”

Squinting his eyes, Tommy started speaking.

“save ami se

hi slobuzenja

ami jaul

o lungo drom”

It took Y/N several seconds to catch his words, but her mind suddenly remembered.

“You’re a bad liar.” She immediately went back in time, an ancient Romani poem he showed her years ago, but he was making a Russian accent. “in the forests

we respect

animals flowers trees

when we build our fire

we always clean up after us.” She continued the translated version.

Tommy gave her then a surprised look. “You still remember it?”

“Proud gypsy.” Y/N nodded.

How could she ever forget? How couldn’t she go back in time to that day when she went to play outside and meet a boy that was pretending to ride a caravan -a made shift with a sheet and pulled by a horse. He was shy and reserved at first, but she was fascinated by the endless stories he told her about his gypsy roots and tales on the road.

She spent hours listening to him speaking roca -with the proper translation of course-, and eventually he found the poem in his mother’s notebook.

“Even then, you were always worried about everyone.” She noted.

He had always been protective over those who he loved.

“Bad habits die hard.” Tommy chuckled, his childhood wasn’t always easy, but she definitely made it better.

Y/N wondered how different he would be if things happened differently, if his mother was still alive, if they didn’t have to go to the war… if she didn’t thought Scott was a good distraction. But she was forced to put her thoughts aside, as she felt urgency to pee. “Can you stop the car?”

“Why? What happened?”

“Just stop it… I need to take a wee.” She explained embarrassed.

Tommy looked around, they were in the middle of nowhere. “Let me get closer to those trees.”

She bit her lower lip, pray he’d hurry up. “Are you sure an animal won’t bite me here?”

“If something bites you it doesn’t matter, just spit in the wound.”

“That’s gross!” She defended.

Tommy gave her an amused look. “You don’t know right? Pregnant women salive is full of properties that cuts off the venom of snakes.”

The surprised look Y/N gave him assured Tommy that she didn’t know.

“How do you know that?”

“A snake bit me back in the day, my Mum was pregnant with Ada she used her spit and covered the wound with a clean cloth and here I am, strong as a horse.”

“Do you always have to refer to an animal? What’s wrong with you?”

His chuckle resonated into the deepest parts of her soul as she climbed out of the car to find a safe place to take a wee -as safest as the trees could be of course-.

Tommy took a cigarette, he was aching for a smoke. The road was practically deserted, but still he was always looking around, keeping an eye just in case. Anything could happen in a blink and he needed to be alert.

“Are you done?!” He shouted over his shoulder, just to piss her off.

“Would ya give me a fucking minute?!” Y/N shouted back mortified.

This wasn’t practical at all, she felt like an animal in the wild, but this was all she got for now and she needed to stick to it. Besides it wasn’t like she could hold it for so long.

Cleaning herself she tried to rush back to the car, huffing from the effort. “Sorry about that, can’t control it.” She apologized getting in the car again.

Tommy held the passenger door open for her while blowing the smoke in the opposite direction.

“It’s alright, needed to stretch a bit anyways.” He grinned. Who would’ve told him he’d stoping his car in the middle of nowhere for a pregnant woman to pee. “So… did Polly tell you already?” Tommy asked giving her a side glance.

Y/N couldn’t help to smile big. “I asked her to not tell me. Did she tell you?”

Tommy started rubbing his chin, a soft smile decorating his lips as he kept his eyes on the road again.

“Don’t tell me, I just want this baby to be healthy.”

“I really don’t understand how she knows, but she got Ada’s right and I remember she did the same with my Mother when she was pregnant with Finn.”

“She could use her talent and charge for it.” Y/N joked about Polly’s gift to predict the baby’s sex.

“See, that’s a brilliant mind, always sell your abilities.” Tommy encouraged. “Alright, this is it.”

Y/N noticed Tommy took a right and entered a different road. The property was as big as his own house. She could only think how tired she’d be to have to go from one room to another, poor maids who had to clean everything.

The gardener tipped his head towards Tommy knowledging him, while he moved as if he owned the place. Y/N following his steps, feeling like she really didn’t belong there.

“Need to have some rest? It’s a long way.” Tommy looked over his shoulder to make sure she was doing okay.

“No, I’m fine.” Her eyes stopped at the pond, it had fishes.

“Gold fish keeps the worms away from the horses.” Tommy explained, reading her mind.

Y/N gave him a doubtful look. “Are you messing with me?”

But Tommy shook his head. “Never, I swear it’s true. It helps to keep the water clean.” He crouched down, inviting her to do the same. “Go on, you can touch them.”

To show her it was alright, Tommy tipped his hand inside, making a circle with his finger.

When she was about to dip her finger too, Tommy spoke again.

“Careful, they can bite your hand off.”

Y/N gasped in shock at first, then when she realized he was only joking, she laughed. It was a strange sensation, the skin felt flaky against her touch made her giggle.

“I hope the horses won’t eat the fishies.” She added and then saw Tommy rolling his eyes. “Oh what? You’re the only one allowed to make jokes?”

Y/N shook her hand towards him, making a few drops land on his suit and vest.

Tommy clicked his tongue and pretended as if he would throw water at her. Y/N squealed giving her back at him, feeling like they were teenagers again playing by the river.

“Follow me, I want you to meet Apollo.”

“Your horse has a name?” Y/N asked perplexed.

“Of course, they all do.” He pointed at the floor for her to be careful with the hay. “This good boy is going to win the next Derby.”

Y/N saw Tommy stood in front of the box and gently caressed the animal, taking his time to ask how he was doing, check behind his ears and take a look at the mare’s body. He had always been a horse’s man, the amount of time he spent brushing that white horse his mother gave him, no one knew where it came from, but Tommy assured her it was a fine horse, he had magic in his eyes and now she was witnessing the way the horse followed Tommy’s steps like he was kind of under a spell.

Y/N noticed the way Tommy’s energy changed, it was indescribable but he turned into someone completely different. They were in a bubble, in their own little world, like they were one soul divided in two bodies.

And it almost made Y/N feel jealous of the closeness and complicity between Tommy and his horse, she could hear him whispering sweet little nothings and the way the horse made little sounds in response.

Then the horse stared at her and started moving slowly, tipping his head down. At first Y/N was shocked to feel the moose against her stomach, but Tommy told her it was alright, his horse wouldn’t hurt her.

“It’s like he knows I’m pregnant?”

“Oh he does,” Tommy nodded, “I just told him.”

“Is this another of your jokes?” She laughed nervously as the horse breathed against her baby bump.

“I never joke about horses, Y/N. He knows there’s a life growing inside you, they understand more than we do.”

There was something in his blue eyes that she couldn’t name, something that was making her hold his gaze. Something so profound she never experienced before. It was both terrifying and calming at the same time.

And then, as if the moment wasn’t intense enough, she felt her baby wriggling inside her for the first time.

“What is it?” Tommy asked with concern in his voice.

“The baby… is moving.” She explained.

Grabbing his hand in a blunt movement, she placed it on top of her blouse, giving him a few seconds to feel the movement against her side.

“Oh wow.” Tommy finally managed to feel a small but determined movement against his palm.

“Over here.” She changed his hand in another direction. Her hand covering his, she could feel Tommy holding his breath as his eyes shot up to find hers, surprise written all over them, this was something he had never felt before.

“Is this something good?” He asked in a whisper.

“I think the baby started moving when the horse was close, like the baby feels the horse around.”

Was this what a new life felt like? The miracle of a tiny human growing inside her?

Tommy could feel his heart about to explode, to be able to experiment something so personal, so profound, something that wasn’t meant to be his.

He, the ruthless leader of a gang, the heartless Small Heath Devil, there he was with tears blurring his vision and emotions making him feel things he had never felt before.

This baby wasn’t born yet and it was already his weakness.

The only time she had seen Tommy cry was when his mother passed away. He rarely allowed his emotions to the surface and Y/N knew too well this meant to him so much more than he could than he could actually put into words. Her unborn child somehow managed to get under his skin, past the high wall Thomas Shelby had built around him.

And now she was emotional too.

Tommy had been nothing but a gentleman to her, looking after her every need and wish during the hardest time of her life. And instead of pointing a finger and judging her actions, he welcomed her under his wing to protect her from the cruel world outside.

Without a doubt, Tommy was the best man she knew.

“It feels like a huge butterfly’s wings fluttering.” She explained.

Tommy felt lost for words, there was nothing he could say that could match what he felt.

A part of him felt guilty for stealing the baby’s father place and get the chance to experience all of this, but the other part told him he wasn’t doing anything wrong, because the baby’s father actually chose not to be involved. And in that moment, he made a silent promise to look after that child as his own.

Someone clearing his throat interrupted them. “I’m going to clean the barn, and the smell can be a bit strong for the lady.”

“Yeah, sure.” Tommy muttered, still altered by his feelings, so he turned around and walked his horse into the box, then he guided Y/N outside.

And then he did the only thing he knew when he wasn’t sure how to deal with his feelings. “I think it was the way your baby is telling you about his or hers future horse.”

Y/N gave him a shocked glance. “No, no way. Tommy you can’t buy my child a horse!”

“Who’s gonna stop me? You?” He scoffed. “Besides, I‘m that baby’s godfather remember?” Tommy announced proudly.

She groaned. “Don’t make me regret it.” As they started walking towards his vehicle, Curiosity won her over. “Who lives here?”

“My horses’ trainer.”

“No way, really?”

“Her husband passed away so she took over his business and with her family’s wealthy, well she became filthy wealthy.”

“So the horse training is just a hobby?”

Tommy shuddered not wanting to get too deep into that conversation. “Probably, once you have money you always want more and more.”

Y/N took his hand when he approached the other side of the vehicle.

The weight of his words sinking in her mind.

“That’s how it works? That’s what you want? More money?”

Tommy swallowed hard, Y/N always knew what to say to get his attention, the truth -he sometimes didn’t want to hear-, always hanging from her lips.

“That’s just how the world works, Y/N.” He replied instead. “Money can buy anything.”

He was right, he was just proving that by recently buying a mansion, he already had three cars parked in his garage, eight horses plus the ones under training, he paid for a staff at his house, paid the cops, he was also paying the remodeling of the building they’d use for the Shelby Institute and everything that was needed. And last but not least, he was paying her salary and a monthly amount of money for her baby already, the sapphire he recently gifted her and endless other things.

The echo of his words silenced her own.

Y/N decided then to turn her head away from him to look outside on the road they were leaving behind.

But you can’t buy love. Can’t buy happiness either. So… is it really worth it? She wanted to say, but instead the words kept playing in the back of her mind.

“Before I forget…a man came looking for you at the Institution.” Y/N explained shaking her head a bit, her mind felt funny at times and she forgot things.

“Who? When?”

She saw the frown in Tommy’s face. “A few days ago, he seemed strange if you ask me, wearing clothes as a priest, said he’d supervise th-”

“Fucking Hughes, why didn’t you tell me sooner?” He demanded frustrated.

“Calm down, I-I forgot.”

“This is important and delicate, Y/N you can’t simply forget those things.” Tommy snapped not aware he was hurting her feelings.

Until a little sob escaped her lips and Tommy felt like a piece of shit.

“No, Y/N I’m sorry shouldn’t have talked to you like that.” He didn’t want to upset her. “Sorry I’m just trying to keep you safe, away from this…”

“I should‘ve told you sooner.” Y/N took a deep breath. She didn’t know what’s gotten into her, that reaction wasn’t like her. “I didn’t like him, but I thought he was related to the operation.”

��If you see him again, don’t tell him anything.” Tommy held the steering wheel so hard that his knuckles turned white. “I’m going to place some blinders guarding the Institute.”

Y/N turned to look at Tommy and by the tone in his voice, she felt worried.

Next part

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imaginespazzi · 6 months

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Part 4: The Art of Letting Go

Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7

Only know you love her when (she lets you) go

(In which a still very sadistic writer make things a lot worse but only so they can get a little bit better)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Angst, Pining, Hurt with very little comfort

Words: 7.9K

TW: Car Accidents, Panic Attacks, Swearing

A/N: Hello my lovelies <3 I know I'm very, very late with this and I love you all for being so patient. I don't really know how I feel about this chapter but it is what it is. Logistical details are probably a little off but I need things to work for the plot, so try and ignore that. Per usual I did edit (very loosely and I'll probably go back over it later), there are probably typos anyways. And as always, let me know what you liked, what you didn't, and what you'd like to see in the future. Happy reading lovelies and let's get a W this weekend. <3

December 2023

A week or so after they get back from the Cayman Islands, Azzi feels like she’s been sleep-walking through life, everything around her hazy and dull. She religiously sticks to a routine of eat-study-practice-sleep. Except well, sleep isn’t really sleeping. It’s her brain conjuring images of blonde hair and blue eyes and Azzi forcing herself to wake-up from a nightmare that used to be her favourite dream.

She doesn’t tell anyone what happened, lying to herself it’s because it would be embarrassing and not because it would mean having to face the truth. Still, it doesn’t mean that her teammates can’t piece together little bits. There must be something quite sinister about the air around her, because none of her normally nosy and eager-to-help sisters try to weasel any information out of Azzi. They act like they always have, only sharing worried looks behind her back when the façade of i’m doing fine slips momentarily when she thinks no one’s watching.

And then that façade goes to hell over the span of a couple of hours.

It starts with the inevitable breakup with Zoe. At first Azzi avoids it, making up excuses as to why she can’t see her girlfriend. Selfishly, there’s a part of her that wants to keep Zoe, keep a girl who would never leave, never make her feel anything less than (or more than) just content. But it’s not fair, Azzi knows that, and it’s why she practises her it’s not you, it’s me speech to perfection in front of the mirror. When she goes to message Zoe that she's coming over, the text chain causes a pinch of guilt in her heart at the contrast between her girlfriend’s hopeful tone versus her own nonchalant one. And Azzi thinks that Zoe will never really understand just how similar the two of them are, stuck at wanting someone who would always let them down. Only, Azzi will let Zoe free but when it comes to her herself, she’s pretty sure she’s destined to be trapped forever.

It’s embarrassing to admit that Azzi remembers the apartment in Storrs that she’d visited barely a handful of times a lot more than she remembers the apartment she’s currently in, the one that belongs to her girlfriend. Zoe sits rigidly on the couch with the same reserved, guarded expression she’s had since she’d opened the door, clearly aware of what was about to happen. Her foot taps incessantly as the silence between them drags on.

“You deserve better,” Azzi says finally, keeping her eyes firmly locked on the floor.

“No,” Zoe’s voice is cold, “don’t say shit like that. It’s a cop out. It’s the shit people say to make themselves feel better-”

“Zoe-”

“Don’t be a fucking coward Azzi. Look me in the eye and say it, say exactly what you’re here to.”

Azzi doesn’t want to do any of that. She wants to crumble to the ground and let it swallow her until she’s buried so far away from the mess she’s created. But she owes Zoe this. When she does look at Zoe, there’s this look in the other girl’s eyes that Azzi had never thought herself capable of evoking in anyone and she has to swallow away the bile that rises in her throat, disgusted by her own self.

“I’m breaking up with you,” Azzi whispers. Her words linger in the air, like shrapnel after an explosion. Zoe flinches, a single tear trickling down her face.

“There it is,” the Californian says quietly, the ghost of an ironic smile playing on her lips, “I knew it was coming but damn- there it is.”

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“For what-” Zoe cuts herself, “no actually don’t- don’t answer that. I think I know.”

Azzi draws in a deep breath, ready to confess, “I need to tell-”

“Please-”

“Z-”

“Please,” Zoe sobs, “please don’t tell me. I don’t wanna hear it okay? I don’t- I don’t want to hate you Azzi. It’s too much and I don’t- I just- I’m so tired of feeling so much for you when you don’t- when you feel so little for me.”

“That’s not true,” Azzi counters helplessly, her words ringing hollow to her own ears.

“Fucking hell you just ended it Azzi, you don’t have to pretend anymore. And it’s okay because I get it. You can’t feel any more than what little you do for me because- because you’ve already given the rest of it away. And it’s not- it’s not like I didn’t know you know? I only ever met you because you were crying over her. You only let me into your life because you missed her. And now you have her,” Zoe says wistfully.

It’s terrible the way everything else becomes white noise as Azzi’s ear latches on the last sentence, a sentence that couldn’t be any further away from the truth. She was prepared for the accusations, for Zoe to hurl every curse word in the book at her, but this, the unintended reminder that she was giving up on soft, sweet, gentle Zoe for something that she didn’t have, hurts far more than any words could.

“This isn’t about-”

Zoe’s quick to cut Azzi off, pushing herself off the couch they had been sharing, trying to put even more space in between them, “please do not insult my intelligence by finishing that sentence. I deserve that much at least.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I know you are because I know- I know who you are Azzi and I know you’re a good person and that’s why- that’s why I don’t wanna know okay? Whatever you did- whatever happened- just let me- just let me have this. Let me remember you as someone good- someone great,” Zoe pleads.

“If that’s what you want Zo,” Azzi answers weakly, the guilty clawing at her heart. She doesn’t think she deserves to be remembered like that, doesn’t think she’s worthy of being thought of with fondness, not anymore.

Zoe doesn’t make any acknowledgement of Azzi having spoken as she starts to pace, “I should have known. You know the day I met her this summer, I got it- the appeal- I got it immediately. She has this aura, this charm. She just- she just fucking glows you know? And she’s just- she’s this huge entity and so are you and I’m just,” she lets out a hollow laugh as she shrugs, “I’m just a girl from Stockton, California.”

“And you’re amazing,” Azzi puts up a hand when Zoe tries to cut her off again, “you are. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to thank you for what you did for me last year. You could have walked away that day and maybe- maybe one day you’ll think you should have. And I’m sorry. I’m so sorry Zoe. You do deserve better. It’s not a cop out. It’s the truth.”

Since she was younger, Azzi’s always hated endings. This time is no different. The bitter truth is that she probably won’t miss her girlfriend, but she will miss the friend that had gotten her through one of the toughest years of her life. Slowly, Azzi picks herself off of the couch and walks over to a still Zoe, squeezing her left hand once before heading towards the door.

“Azzi,” Zoe calls out, just as Azzi has one foot out the door, “I hope it works out for the two of you. You and Paige always did just seem inevitable.”

***

She blames the fact she’s currently stuck in the terrible LA traffic, with the word inevitable ringing in her ears, for the way her fingers continuously flicker over the green call button under Paige’s name. Zoe saying her name had been the first time in a week that Azzi had even let herself, in consciousness at least, think of the blonde properly. And now that it had been unleashed, whispers of Paige, Paige, Paige echo through every crevice of skull. The pain and anger that she’d been trying to shield herself from, come barraging into her heart as she’s held captive once again by thoughts of her best friend.

It would be a lie to say that Azzi hadn’t been hoping for a call or a text to come through. She’d waited two days with bated breath for a friendly quip that would lead them back to their safe haven of just pretend. Instead it was as if they were back to being who they had been before summer of 2022 all over again. Back to being nothing. But this time Azzi had been adamant that if Paige was going to cut her off again, she wouldn’t fight it, not this time. Apparently that resolve was never meant to last and Azzi feels a little pathetic with how desperately she needs to hear Paige’s voice, how desperately she wants to try again.

The traffic clears just as she presses call and maybe that should have been a sign. Azzi’s not a bad driver per say, but as her dad always said, no one’s a good driver when they’re distracted. The phone rings for too long and she should take that as her next sign and accept it as Paige not wanting to talk, but she lets it continue to ring anyway, as she turns onto a more secluded road. And then-

“Hello,” the voice is unfamiliar and Azzi doesn’t really know Paige’s teammates, beyond Caroline, that well but she’s pretty certain this one doesn’t belong to any of them.

“Hi uh- who is this?” she manages to get out as her grip tightens on the steering wheel.

“Oh um- this is Rose, Paige’s friend” comes the reply, the word friend said with a sultry lilt and Azzi feels her skin prickle. Hang up.

“Why are you answering Paige’s phone?” her tone is far more accusatory than she’d like it to be.

“She’s in the bathroom but she told me to,” Rose answers defensively.

Azzi hesitates, she doesn’t need to know more except, “does she know who called?”

Because surely if she did, if Paige knew it was Azzi on the other line, she wouldn’t let one of her likely random hookups answer the phone, surely Paige would know what it would do, how it would make her feel.

“Uh yeah- I told her Azzi called and she seemed pretty sure she wanted me to pick up.”

Maybe Paige does know what it would do, does know how it would make Azzi feel, maybe that’s the whole fucking point. Through the phone she can hear quiet footsteps walking closer, towards Rose. When Paige is close enough that Azzi can make out the sound of her breathing, can almost picture the way her chest is heaving, that’s when the tears finally fall, blurring her vision.

She doesn’t see the blinking headlights rushing towards her until it’s too late and then she’s swerving. The world around her erupts in motion and light and noise, everything spinning and spinning and spinning. For one moment, as she loses complete control of her car, Azzi thinks maybe this is it. And the most terrifying part of it, is that for a second, she’s not all that opposed to the idea of this being the end. It’s a singular image of her parents in her brain that has her regaining her senses and hitting the brakes as hard as she can. Her tires screech as her car barrels into a tree and her entire body jerks around in her car, her seatbelt leaving burn scars against her neck. Azzi feels her heartbeat going haywire, as everything comes to a halt.

“Oh my god, oh my god,” Rose’s panicked voice echoes.

“What?” and there’s Paige and even in this wreckage, Azzi’s heart stutters at the sound of her best friend.

“I think she crashed-”

“WHAT?” there’s frantic shuffling until, “Azzi? Azzi? Hello? Are you there? Fuck. Azzi are you okay? Please say something. C’mon Az. I know you’re there. Can you hear me? Please be okay. Azzi? Fuck, fuck, fuck. Azzi?”

Azzi opens and closes her mouth, trying to answer to the call of her name, but nothing comes out. She feels hot and cold all over at the same and she swears there’s a hand curled around her neck because she can’t fucking breathe.

“Azzi,” Paige says again desperately, “please say something.”

“P-Paige,” Azzi finally manages to stutter, her chest heaving as she gasps for air. There’s blood rushing to her ears and everything around her feels hazy.

“Azzi,” and that one syllable is wrapped in so much emotion, “I’m here okay, are you okay?”

No, Azzi thinks, I don’t know if I’ll ever be okay.

“I c-can’t breathe. I think” she grasps at her neck, “I th-think I’m having a panic attack.”

Paige curses under her breath, “okay, okay alright listen to me breathe okay? And try to match it okay?”

“O-okay,” Azzi whispers, pressing her head to her steering wheel as she tries to mimic Paige’s exaggerated deep breaths on the other end of the line.

“Good girl, you’re doing so well for me Azzi, just keep breathing okay,” Paige’s voice is far calmer than she probably is in reality, “just keep breathing with me okay.”

Azzi closes her eyes as she feels her chest slowly start to loosen up and lets herself be immersed by Paige’s soothing words of comfort. And for a second, it almost feels as if her best friend is right there with her. For a second, Azzi imagines that they’re on a whole other planet, just them in their little world, like it always should have been, like she’d once been so sure it would be. It’s a beautiful dream that reality is quick to gatecrash.

“Babe, is she okay?” Rose asks, and Azzi’s eyes fly open at the term of endearment. She’s not on a different planet. She’s alone. And Paige isn’t.

“I’m fine,” Azzi breathes out and then more firmly, “I’m fine.”

“Thank God,” Paige lets out a sigh of relief before her tone turns sour “what the actual fuck Azzi?”

Azzi winces at the loudness, pretty sure she might have a concussion from the way her head had crashed back into her headrest as she’d crashed into the tree in front of her.

“I’m fine,” she repeats assertedly, as everything around her slowly starts to make sense again. It’s not a lie really, at least not physically. There’s the potential concussion, and the litany of bruises she’s starting to feel all over her body but she’s pretty sure there’s nothing wrong internally. Well except for her stupid fucking heart but it wasn’t the accident that had fucked that organ up.

“You just crashed your fucking car, no you’re not fucking fine,” Paige yells, voice thick with tears.

“What the fuck do you care?” Azzi bites back, “sorry I interrupted your fucking night Paige. I swear it won’t happen again.”

She hangs up before Paige can say anything else, sitting deathly still for a second. And then she lets herself completely break apart.

***

74 missed calls from Paige

did u go to the hospital

pick up ur fucking phone

dude

azzi

this is not the time for this stubborn bullshit

PICK UP UR FUCKING PHONE

AZZI

just say ur ok at least

please

called ur mom

said u had a concussion and some bruising

thats not too bad

ur so fucking stupid

it could be so much worse

please pick up

AZZI FUCKING FUDD PICK UP UR PHONE

so u can call carol and not me ok

thats just fucking perfect

dude i feel like an accident > stupid fights

so maybe just pick up

or call me back

u wanna play this stupid game fine

ignore me for now

but i’mma be in dc for christmas

ur gonna have to talk to me

i know where u live

***

The box in Azzi’s arm feels freakishly heavy, like she’s holding the whole world inside of it. In a way, maybe she is. The walk up Paige’s dad’s driveway feels longer than it ever has and she’s fighting the urge to turn back with every step. As soon as she’d seen the vaguely threatening text message, Azzi had decided she would beat Paige to it. The night of the accident had put several things into perspective and Azzi was determined to finally grasp control of her own life.

It hasn’t been that long since the Cayman Island and so it hasn’t been that long since Azzi’s seen Paige. But when the door opens and she’s face to face with her best friend, despite the dread and anxiety that’s drowning her heart, Azzi still feels that beat of it’s cold but you always make me feel warm flutter in her chest. Paige smiles and Azzi’s arms wobble, drawing the blonde’s attention to the box in her arms.

“Still a couple of days till Christmas Az, a little early to give me my present,” Paige smirks lightly and Azzi feels a river of hot anger slide around her veins. After everything she’d put her through in the last couple of weeks, the fact that Paige could act so frivolous, as if they were still fine, makes Azzi see red.

Her voice is icier than the sheet of frost on the ground when she replies, “it’s not a Christmas present.”

Paige’s eyebrows knit together questioningly, “then-”

“It’s all your stuff I had lying around,” Azzi cuts in, trying to keep her voice confident and stable.

The smile disappears from Paige’s face as she studies Azzi's face, looking for some semblance of emotion beyond the blank stare.

“What?”

“All the things you’ve left at my house over the years, a couple of t-shirts, a hat, a book and a couple other things, they’re in this box,” Azzi says pointedly. She tries to hand it over but Paige is quick to move away from it, staring at the offending object as if it’s a ticking time bomb.

“What the actual fuck is going on Azzi?”

“I might have missed some things. Let me know if I have and I’ll mail them to you in the future,” Azzi recites clinically, keeping her demeanour stoic as possible “and of course I would like my things back as well. Not right now of course. You can mail them to me whenever it suits you.”

“Mail back your things? What? What the fuck are you going on about?” Paige asks, a bewildered expression taking on her face. She reaches out as if she wants to shake Azzi but seems to think better of it.

Azzi doesn’t say anything, as she sidesteps Paige into the house, putting in the utmost effort to make sure no part of herself brushes up against the older girl, knowing the inevitable burst of electricity when they touch would be enough to break her resolve. She places the box of Paige’s stuff on the coffee table in the living room, before turning back to Paige.

“I’m giving you your stuff back,” Azzi repeats, “I’m giving you what you want.”

“What I want? When did I ask for my stuff back?”

Azzi draws in a deep breath, fighting desperately against the screams of you don’t want this in her own head, “I’m giving you a clean break Paige. I’m letting you go.”

Saying those words feels a lot like free-falling. Her stomach lurches at the way Paige’s features scrunch up in pain and she’d never meant to do that, but Azzi’s so tired. She’s so tired of this push and pull, the way they seem to hurt each other every fucking time, the way things get so close to going right and then go wrong any way. The bitter truth of life, Azzi has forced herself to admit, is that it doesn’t matter how hard you fight, sometimes the darkness wins out anyway.

“You think-,” Paige stutters, clutching at her chest, “you think this is what I want?”

“Well isn’t it?”

“Of course n-”

“If I hadn’t called you that night would you have called me first Paige? If I hadn’t gotten into that stupid accident, would you even have texted me ever again?”

Paige’s silence is an answer in itself . And although Azzi had known it, she can’t deny that there’s a part of her that had posed the question hoping against hope that Paige would have answered it with a resounding yes of course. She thinks maybe she should be used to the singe of disappointment that burns her skin by now but she’s never been immune to Paige’s fire.

“That’s what I thought,” Azzi says quietly, “I’m tired of running after you Paige. I thought I was done after the Cayman Islands but then I- I don’t know- I don’t know why I called you that night when you- you clearly didn’t want that.”

“Azzi c’mon-”

“It’s my fault really. Because you've always been clear about it and I- for some reason- I just don’t listen. You were clear with it when you told me to go to UCLA and get out of your life. You were clear when you didn’t want me to come into your air BnB. You were clear when you told me to get out of the bathroom last summer. And when you left that night-,” Azzi pauses as Paige’s eyes widen, the words catching in her throat, “when you were gone that morning- every time you didn’t call- every time you didn’t text- you were always clear about it Paige and I- I’m sorry I didn’t listen.”

“You’re being really fucking unfair right now,” Paige accuses, “you’re mad because I didn’t want to be your fucking side whore? I’m so sorry I had more self-respect than that Azzi.”

Azzi blinks rapidly, her face still completely neutral, “excuse me?”

“You wanna blame me for those first two things, fine. But you have a whole ass girlfriend and you wanted me to be what? Just a girl you can fuck occasionally because you feel like it? Who the fuck do you think I am? I deserve so much better than that.”

“I don’t-”

“You wanna know why I left that morning?” Paige asks icily, “I woke up and the first thing I saw is your girlfriend’s fucking i miss you text. All that shit you said to me when I kissed you in LA about not wanting to be one of my groupies or whatever but what did you want me to be Azzi?”

When they were young and naive, the largest fight they’d ever had was about whether or not one of them had cheated in a game of horse. The allegations of cheater from a 15 year old Paige had seemed massive back then, but they pale in front of the accusations of cheater from a 22 year old Paige. It’s not that Azzi thinks she’s some prime example of a good samaritan and she can deal with people thinking she’s not all that, but it’s different when it’s Paige, it’s different to know that Paige could ever think so low of her.

“You really think I’d do that you? That I’d make you my sidepiece or whatever?”

“What else am I supposed to think about you fucking me while you have a girlfriend?” Paige asks exasperatedly and Azzi flinches at the repeated use of the profanity.

“Had.”

“What?”

Azzi grips the hem of her shirt, trying to focus her eyes anywhere but Paige, “I had a girlfriend. Past tense.”

“You- you broke up with Zoe?” Paige’s expression morphs from anger to confusion before finally settling on realisation.

“I never wanted you to be a side piece. You think I don’t know you deserve better than that?” Azzi rubs her temple, as she tries to keep herself steady on her feet, “I know seeing that text hurt you but it’s not like you didn’t know I had a girlfriend. But- but if you’d just waited for me to wake up, god if you’d just talked to me once instead of jumping to conclusions then-”

“Then what?” Paige breathes out and Azzi doesn’t miss the little spurt of hope that’s taken birth on the older girl's face.

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” Azzi shakes her head, “that’s also past tense now.”

The thing with Paige is that anger is her protective mechanism. When she gets a little close to losing control of her emotions, or feeling too much, it’s what she falls back on so it’s not surprising that her tone is harsh when she speaks again.

“How the fuck was I supposed to guess you were gonna break up with your girlfriend Az c’mon,” Paige takes a step towards her, “I’m not a fucking mind reader.”

“I never asked you to read my mind. I just- all I’ve ever wanted- is for you to just have a little faith in me- in us,” Azzi’s voice breaks on the last word.

“That’s not fair. I was really fucking hurt Azzi-” Paige begins, her voice pleading.

“And then you tried to hurt me back on purpose,” Azzi spits out as the façade of neutrality completely slips off, “you knew it was me calling and you had that girl pick up any way knowing exactly how it would make me feel.”

“Azzi,” baby blue eyes sparkle with tears and Azzi has to force herself to look away, because no matter how much she’s convinced that this is what needs to happen, seeing Paige break, will drown Azzi and she’s barely floating as it is.

“I don’t enjoy hurting you Paige,” Azzi says softly, “and I don’t think you enjoy hurting me but for the last couple of years, I feel like that’s all we’ve been doing and I- I can’t do it anymore.”

It’s not something she’d ever admitted out loud, or even to herself, but once upon a time Azzi used to think her and Paige would have one of those stories, one of those soft, sappy fairytale-esque stories that had no chance of an ending that wasn’t happily ever after. And she hopes that maybe in another universe, maybe they did have that. Maybe in a universe where she chose UConn and things never went wrong in the first place. Maybe in that universe, they’re happy. But in this universe, they seem to be destined for misery. And Azzi thinks the saddest tragedy of it all, is that it feels like she’s ending a story that never even really got the chance to start.

“So that’s it then, you’re walking away- you’re just- you’re fucking giving up?” Paige says bitterly, crossing her arms protectively over her chest and Azzi feels a flicker of annoyance light up against her ribcage.

“Isn’t that what you did?” she accuses, “Is that not what you do? You walk away every. single. time. because you can’t deal with things getting just a little too fucking hard. And what? I’m just supposed to wait until you come back? Or chase after you like a pathetic little puppy?”

Paige flinches at the hardness in Azzi’s tone, mouth opening and closing but nothing escaping.

“I’m so fucking tired of always being the one calling, the one showing up, the one trying. I’m so fucking tired of fighting for us when it feels like you’re fighting against me,” Azzi pauses,trying to blink away the tears she’d tried so hard to keep locked behind her eyelids, “if you wanna call that me giving up then okay, but I don’t think you realize just how fucking hard I want to hold on.”

Azzi’s not sure if it’s the way her voice cracks, or the absolute misery behind every word she says, but Paige's hard and cold expression is gone so fast it gives her whiplash. And then her Paige, the girl with the warm eyes and soft heart is back, looking at Azzi in a way that makes her want to believe in them all over again. Arms outstretched, Paige takes a step forwards and there’s nothing more Azzi wants then melt into them. It takes everything in her to step away instead. For a moment there’s nothing but them staring at each other in silence, a moment where Azzi tries to memorise everything about Paige just in case this is the last time. And then-

“What if,” Paige begins softly, “what if I entered the draft?”

Azzi looks at her in confusion, “what does that have to do with anything?”

“The Sparks have the second pick, it’s where I’m projected to go,” Paige bites at her lips, peering at Azzi through her eyelashes.

The Sparks. The Los Angeles Sparks.

“Is that what you want?” Azzi asks quietly, trying to prevent her brain from already coming up with dreams of stupid picnic dates at the park during sunset.

Paige hesitates. And it’s enough for those dreams to crumble, because Azzi knows Paige just a little too well, knows exactly what that little bit of hesitation means.

“I haven’t decided yet but if- if there was a reason that I should-”

“There isn’t,” Azzi says firmly, “it’s not what you want.”

“I don’t even fucking know what I want,” Paige argues and that doesn’t make it any better.

“Then figure it out,” Azzi yells, frustratedly rubbing her hands over her face, “I won’t deal with you fucking resenting me and running away again in a couple of years- hell in a couple of months- because you regret your fucking decision.”

“I wouldn’t-”

“Please just stop. It's done. I’ve made up my mind” Azzi begs, exhaustion flooding into her body, “just- just let this go please.”

Paige meets her eyes with a stubborn fire, “I don’t fucking want to.”

“Well tough luck because I do.”

“Azzi,” Paige pleads desperately, trying to block Azzi as she beelines for the door, but the younger girl is quick to push past her.

“Goodbye Paige.”

***

December 2024

azzi please just let me in

ur parent are saying u dont wanna see me

and i get it

but i can fix this i swear

i know u know im here

please fucking let me in

i fucked up

i know

im so fucking sorry

but dude we can fix this

just

can u just fucking let me in

i really wanna see u

i really wanna talk

can we just fucking talk

please

merry christmas az

u know what fuck u actually

didnt mean that sorry

i was just mad

u make me really fucking mad

christmas breaks almost over

i have to go back soon and ik u do too

we should talk before that

ur so fucking stubborn

but so am i

im not giving up

i won’t

January 2024

i miss you

ur really fucking annoying

not texting me back

but its fine

i’ll just fucking spam

i had an ok day today

practice was kinda ass

not me tho

i was great

as always

bet i made more threes than you did

bro im watching ur game

and

what the fuck kinda airball did u just throw up

get in the gym az jfc

oh that was a good pullup

not better than mine

but decent

been a fucking month azzi

just fucking call me back

or text me idk

i miss u

sooooooooooo

hows ur day

good? good.

hows mine?

oh kinda shit

lets see

we lost in front of all these uconn legends

to their fucking rival

everyones saying uconn fucking sucks

some people are saying i suck

they might not be completely wrong

now would be a good time to reply az

like maybe make me feel better

fuck u actually

what the fuck am i doing

idk if u even read these

February 2024

idk maybe i should stop

like maybe only fucking psychos do this

but idk bro

i feel like ur gonna text me back eventually

well sc was a shit show

i mean we knew it but holy shit

i really wanna talk to you about it

it’d mainly just be me fucking yelling

and u giggling

fuck i miss ur laugh

i miss you

idk if u just ignore these

so idk if ur gonna even see this

but

i wanted to tell you first

before u saw it from somewhere else

im staying at uconn

u were right

i didnt want to leave yet

i want my 4 years

but

just dont think it means i didnt mean what i said

that i dont wanna be in la with u

i do

its not about that

i just need to do whats best for me

and thats staying here

fuck

i get what u meant now

u didnt pick ucla over me

fuck fuck fuck

im sorry az

is this how u felt

when i didn’t text u back

because it’s actually fucking hell

i miss you so fucking much dude

i’m so sorry

i’m really fucking sorry azzi

for all of it

please just call me back

March 2024

last pac-12 tournament mvp!!

dude i’m so proud of you

we also won

idk if u heard

it wasnt easy either

everything just always fucking goes wrong

fucking pisses me off

but oh well

u know i dont even like texting

idk how many messages ive sent u

its gotta be hundreds atp

insane shit on my part

tf is wrong with me

did u see the bracket

see u in the final 4 azzi

April 2024

i fucking told u

i told you id see u in the final four

fucking meant it

fuck

gonna kick yalls ass

revenge szn

we’re built different in march

cleveland here we fucking go

but also

cant avoid me anymore

i cant fucking wait to see you az

***

UConn 87 UCLA 84

There’s six seconds left to go and UCLA has control of the ball. The game today had been completely different from the on down in the Cayman Islands. That one had featured a UCLA team that had dominated from start to finish versus a UConn team still reeling from multiple injuries. This time around, UCLA seemed to have lost some of their shine and UConn had been on a tear. She would never give Paige the satisfaction of knowing it but her stupid goading, her incessant smirking because UConn seemed poised to win handedly, had gotten in Azzi’s head for most of the game. The fourth quarter had seen UConn enter with a 11 point lead that had held study until the last two and a half minutes when something had finally clicked for Azzi.

“Told you, you should have fucking come to UConn,” Paige had sneered while casually dribbling the ball and that had been enough to break Azzi out of whatever funk she’d been in. All of her anger and frustration at Paige seemed to culminate into that one moment as she’d swiped the ball straight from Paige’s hands, narrowly avoiding a foul. An easy steal-and-score layup was followed by two signature three pointers, created by her team’s defence, and suddenly the lead had been cut down to three. On the other side, Muhl had been called for an offensive foul and immediately Coach Close had called for a timeout to advance the ball.

When both teams get back on the court, Azzi, with her competitive streak in full control of her emotions, relishes in the way Paige’s face is contorted up in frustration. But it isn’t just this game that has Azzi irritated. Paige had been relentless since both teams had landed in Cleveland in trying to corner Azzi. She’d known it was gonna happen since she’d read the text but still Azzi had hoped that maybe the blonde would just let it go, would understand just how much Azzi didn’t want to have to deal with this. Because seeing Paige hurts. All the missing and yearning of the past few months seemed to have blended into this ball of tight hot pain that had burst the minute Paige had smiled at Azzi. She knows Paige means well, and it’s taking everything in her to ignore the part of her that’s secretly enamoured by how hard the point guard is trying finally, but Azzi just can’t do it again. She can’t let Paige in again and then spend every other second scared that Paige will run away again.

The whistle blows and Charisma gets ready to inbound the ball. The play call had been to just get it to Azzi but it’s clearly one that UConn had anticipated, because she finds herself swarmed with Paige and Muhl both trying to make sure she doesn’t get the ball. Instead, it’s Kiki who gets the ball and the countdown starts, as Azzi fights to get herself free, running off of screens, to get herself open on the three point line. It takes too much time and they don’t have any more timeouts left. Kiki throws it inside to Lauren who misses the layup but gets her own rebound and somehow the ball finally finds its way into Azzi’s hands. And with barely a second left to go, and Paige’s hand firmly in her face, Azzi throws up a prayer. The arena goes deathly silent as the ball hits the back and then circles every inch of the rim before spilling over the edge and falling straight into Edwards’ hands.

The crowd erupts in deafening cheers as the UConn bench rushes to the court, jubilantly hugging each other with Paige in the middle. Azzi blinks rapidly, refusing to be caught shedding a single tear on camera. Her teammates look distraught and Azzi feels disappointment curling into every crevice of her skin she’d almost had it. In the grand scheme of things she knows that, that shot would have only guaranteed overtime and not a win but still, it wouldn’t have meant a loss. And she knows this one isn’t completely on her either but it doesn’t mean that she doesn’t feel the burden of it on her shoulders any way.

But despite it all, seeing Paige’s bright smile stretch all over her beaming face as she celebrates with her team, soothes the sting of the loss just a little bit. Azzi still remembers late night calls and Paige’s broken voice too well, her brain imprinted with the misery of a girl who had just wanted to play the sport she loved and couldn’t. And even if everything between them resembles the remnants of an earthquake, Azzi can’t help but be just a little bit happy for Paige.

The handshake line is better this time around with no one being unnecessarily hostile. One team is too happy to care and when Muhl briefly hugs her, Azzi can’t help but be a little shocked by the affection. Her team is too despondent to be mad, and Angela briefly nods at Paige when shaking her hand, and gets a reassuring grin in return. Azzi has to force herself not to run away, if only for decorum’s sake, once she and Paige finally get to each other. Trying to keep herself steady, she reaches out her hand to counter Paige’s outstretched arms. The smile falls a little bit from Paige’s face as a more resigned expression takes its place.

“Good game Bueckers,” Azzi manages to muster out.

The last name stings but Paige does her best to not let it show, “good game Az.”

***

When there’s a knock on the door to her hotel room a little bit after 10pm, Azzi knows exactly who it is. The look that Charisma gives her as she goes to open it, suggests that she does too.

“Oh thank fucking god, I thought maybe y’all left already,” and there it is, Paige voice echoing through her room and from where she’s perched on the edge of bed, her feet dangling over the side, Azzi catches a brief glimpse of the UConn point guard.

“Had a little bit of a transportation issue. We’re not leaving til tomorrow morning,” Charisma explains, “what are you doing here Paige?”

Paige shuffles her feet nervously at the doorway, peering over Charisma’s frame in the doorway to catch sight of Azzi, “can I talk to Azzi?”

“First you kick my ass in the final four, and now you wanna kick me out of my own room?” Charisma asks, voice light but there’s an edge of seriousness to it.

“I-uh-”

“Az,” Charisma turns to Azzi with a questioning look, and Azzi sighs at having all the attention on her, “you wanna talk to her?”

Say no. Say yes. Her head fights with itself. And for the last few months, Azzi’s done well with listening to the logical part of her brain, diligently sticking to letting go. But that had only been easy to do because Paige hadn’t actually been there. Now that she is, with bright hopeful eyes fixed on Azzi, well, this time the emotional side wins out. She nods her head in yes at Charisma and Paige seems to glow all over.

“You’re lucky it’s me and not Angela or Kiki or any of the other girls,” Charisma warns, “but I swear to god Bueckers if I come back and there’s a single tear-”

“Then you have my permission to fucking murder me,” Paige vows, her face a paragon of sincerity.

Charisma nods once, stepping aside to let Paige in. The Bruin’s point guard looks at Azzi once more for confirmation and then, satisfied by the small smile Azzi shoots at her, she leaves the room, letting the door shut behind her. And then it’s just Paige and Azzi and the myriad of unspoken thoughts that seem to always linger between them.

“Hi,” Paige says softly.

Azzi stares up at her with tired eyes, “shouldn’t you be celebrating or something?”

“Still one more game to go. Gotta lock in for that first.”

“Then go do that. What are you doing here?”

Paige flinches at the harsh tone and Azzi feels a wave of guilt come over her. She doesn’t mean to be so hostile but she’s scared that if she gives in just a little, all of her will go tumbling down.

“Sunday is the most important game of my life,” Paige says quietly.

“I know- I know it means a lot to you.”

“It does,” Paige nods, as she takes a step forward, hesitating for a second, before she drags a foot stool over, so she can sit right in front of Azzi, “will you stay for it?”

“That’s not-,” Azzi sucks in a deep breath, her senses muddle by having Paige so close to her again, “I thought I was clear about- about us.’

“You were but I thought I was clear with my texts,” Paige counters.

“Paige please.”

“I just-,” Paige pauses, leaning forward and staring intently at Azzi, “I don’t know how the national championship is gonna go. I don’t know if we’re gonna win or lose but I just- I know that no matter what happens, I want you there. Because if I’m gonna end up fucking crying, then I want it to be on your shoulder. And if I’m gonna end up celebrating, I want it to be in your arms. I just- I just want you there. With me. Always.”

Everything else floats away and for a moment, all Azzi knows is Paige, and the warmth that reverberates through her body at the earnestness in those words. If she could, she’d capture that feeling in a bottle and keep it forever. Because moments are fleeting. And when her brain catches up to her heart, and that voice in her head is back to echoing it won’t last, Azzi feels cold all over again.

“You don’t believe me,” disappointment echoes in Paige’s voice; she’s always been a little too perceptive of Azzi’s emotions, “you think I don’t mean it?”

“I think you mean it now. I don’t think you’ll mean it forever,” Azzi shrugs.

Paige is quiet, nerves on full display, as she cautiously reaches for Azzi’s hands with both of her own, an audible sigh of relief floating out of her lips when Azzi lets her.

“I know I fucked up,” she begins quietly, thumb caressing Azzi’s palms, each trace sending jolts of electricy through the younger girl’s body, “like really fucked up and I get why you think that. I get why- why you’re so scared to believe me. And I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”

A teardrop rolls down Paige’s cheek, falling onto their intertwined hands, and Azzi feels herself flinch, her own eyes beginning to glisten.

“If I could go back in time, I’d change so many fucking things. I’d go back to the beginning- back to your room the night before you went to LA and- and I’d tell myself to shut the fuck up. I’d tell you that I supported you- that I understood that you weren’t choosing UCLA over me- and I’d- I’d tell you that it didn’t matter how many fucking miles away from me you were- we’d survive it. But I can’t- I can’t change the past. I can’t change that we fought. I can’t change that- that I was a fucking idiot for ignoring you for a year. I can’t change that I was a dumbass for leaving that morning.”

Tears are freely streaming from both of their eyes now as they grip each other’s hands tightly. There’s something cathartic about finally being able to cry, about finally being able to mourn the loss of what could have been together.And it feels a little bit like healing.

Paige looks up at Azzi through watery eyelashes as she continues to speak, her voice wrecked with emotion, “and I’m not gonna make promises about how I’ll never do shit to hurt you again because god knows I can be really fucking stupid.”

They let out simultaneous giggles at that and Azzi can feel something in herself unravelling.

“But what I can promise is that if you let me, every day- every fucking day that I live- I will try. To not hurt you. To make it up to you. To fix this. To fix us. And I can promise, that I will never ever fucking run away from you again. I know- I know it’s gonna be hard but I swear- I fucking swear- that I will stay right here and face it with you.”

“Paige,” Azzi whispers helplessly. It’s everything she’s wanted to hear and it’s too much. The voices in her head are too loud again, screams of she’ll hurt you, she always does, let her go colliding with shouts of it’s Paige, it’s your Paige, hold on to her.

“You said- you said you were tired of fighting alone but you never- you never have to do that again because- because I’m here now. Fuck- Azzi I’m here. And I know- I know there’s so much we have to talk about and so much we still have to fucking deal with. But we can do that- we can- we can deal with anything. Because it’s us. Paige and Azzi. We can do anything. Together.”

Paige presses her forehead to Azzi’s, pulling their interlocked hands to her chest. They’re breathing in sync and Azzi can feel the thrum of Paige’s heart beat against her fingertips. Azzi’s eyes close of their own accord, as Paige’s lips brush over hers, her next words coming out in a breathless whisper.

“Believe in me- believe in us just one more time, please.”

#pazzi #paige bueckers #azzi fudd #wcbb

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callsign-rogueone · 6 months

Text

study season

fourth wing characters (Aaric, Bodhi, Brennan, Dain, Garrick, Imogen, Liam, Mira, Rhiannon, Ridoc, Sawyer, Sloane, Violet, and Xaden) x reader the ways our faves help you study for exams. words: ~900 🏷: no book spoilers, no triggers. gender neutral. and I included the girls this time!! some of these can be read as platonic and others mention kisses / cuddles, implying you’re a couple. idk, I just work here. I’m really liking this format lately, and it’s (fairly) quick and easy so you can expect more of these in the future while I procrastinate all the girlfriendverse chapters and smut I have to write lol

First, the more studious of the bunch:

Brennan is all-in, no hesitation, pulling up a chair next to you and learning this with you for moral support, but also for fun (can you believe this guy?) though you suppose it’s easier to enjoy this if it doesn’t count for a grade. Either way, he’s a very nice study partner, and he encourages you to take breaks every hour / chapter / etc. Brings snacks, too.

Violet somehow already knows all of the material, and explains it better than the textbook or the professor. Walks things back if you don’t get it and gets into the why and how, which so many teachers skip over, even though it helps explain the what (pet peeve of mine showing here lol).

Aaric’s study skills are unmatched -- years of the best private tutors money can buy really paid off. Teaches you new strategies that you’ve never heard of in your life, and when you ask, he admits a bit shyly that he came up with it himself, but it works, and you get it done in half the time you would have before. (work smarter, not harder, baby)

Rhiannon gives you the pep talk of your life (we all need a Rhiannon in our lives) and convinces you that you’ve got this. Packs you a little snack for the day of your exam with a little note reminding you that you know this, just breathe and think.

Xaden sees you struggling and forces you to take a break. During said break, he’s reading the book himself and figuring out what exactly has you so stressed and exhausted. Breaks down the tasks into smaller, more manageable steps and guides you through it -- “find three reasons why XYZ happened.” done with that? “Now make them into paragraphs.” etc etc, and an hour later, you have a passable essay.

Dain is taking this more seriously than you are, and his discipline is like no other; you’re not stopping until the work is done, or until midnight, whichever comes first (because sleep is important for the brain, or whatever. Definitely not just because he misses you and wants to cuddle).

Garrick may have no idea what you’re talking about, but he suffers through it with you, offering to let you explain things to him, because teaching is a good way to test if you understand something. Though you get what you pay for -- he’s a total smartass about it, asking questions about the littlest details even if they’re common knowledge -- he’s gotta be thorough, right?

Ridoc may be the class clown type, but he’s smarter than a lot of people think. He comes up with a bunch of jokes that actually help you remember things. Somehow manages to relate the most complex topic in your book to a sandwich, and it actually works. He’s incredibly smug about this for the rest of the week, especially when you get the highest score in the class (he’ll take payment in kisses, thank you.)

Bodhi makes flashcards with you, quizzing you and giving you a kiss if you get it right (this definitely is not a distraction, and things definitely don’t escalate from here, nope.) He’s also really good at proofreading essays, and gives excellent feedback regarding the structure and the order of the information.

Liam sits there with you all the while, completely silent, working on one of his wood carvings at the other end of the table, but you know he’s there and he’s watching -- and that provides a healthy amount of peer pressure and keeps you on task. He’s an incredibly observant person, and he can see the stress building; he knows when to intervene and suggest that you take a break.

Sloane is the best person to commiserate with. She doesn’t want to be doing this either, but she’s also incredibly stubborn, and she doesn’t give up; after a healthy amount of complaining, she’s forcing you both to keep trying until it works / until it’s done, and then you’re treating yourselves to something for getting it over with, because you deserve it.

Sawyer is gentle and supportive, having a heart-to-heart conversation with you and reminding you that yes, this is important, but the world will not stop turning if you fail one exam. He knows how it feels to be compared to his peers, especially in how long it takes you to accomplish something (poor bb) and doesn’t want you stressing yourself out about that, either.

Imogen is the opposite, all tough love, giving you gentle but firm reminders: “you didn’t make it this far just to give up,”, “I know you can do this, so do it,” but she balances it out with tender affirmation when you’re done. She’ll even let you skip out on training for the day since you’ve been studying so hard (and she takes training seriously, so this is more of a reward than it seems).

Mira’s default approach is similar to Imogen’s, but she can see that you’re reaching your limit and dials it back, being more gentle with you and doing whatever you need -- encouragement? someone to just sit there? help / explanation / etc? she’s got you covered. herds you into bed at a reasonable hour so you’ll be well rested for the classes and exams.

And all of them are incredibly proud of you for working so hard and getting good grades 🤍

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hypnoneghoul · 4 months

Text

Sundown: Chapter 7

WC: 3,1K

Relationship: SwissAlps

Tags: AU; Cowboy!Swiss x Barmaid!Mountain,Transfeminine Mountain, Angst, Crying, Alcohol, Makeup, Backstory, Grief

He can blame his father for that, but not for his choices later on. That’s all on him, hurting Mounty is all on him.

Notes: I’m not very happy with how this chapter turned out, but the idea was good lmao hope you enjoy :3 Divider by the lovely @ghuleh-recs <3 Also happy Pride Month everyone!!!

Playlist here. / Chapter 1 here or on AO3.

Read chapter 7 under the cut or on AO3.

Swiss slept in the stables with Monty. Curled up and shaking through the cold night on a falling-apart cube of hay.

As fragile as he is, if not less.

He thinks about the irony, looks back at his life and wonders where the fuck he went wrong. He’s well aware, of course, but when he looks far back, ultimately he didn’t put himself on that road on his own. Albeit, he can blame his father for that, but not for his choices later on.

That’s all on him, hurting Mounty is all on him.

It doesn’t matter now, anyway, he already fucked up the best thing that has ever happened to him.

The man gets up, only imagining how pitifully he looks—though there’s no pity he deserves—and turns for Monty’s tack. He’s getting the hell out of there as soon as his chick is ready. Mere minutes later she is and Swiss walks her out of the stable.

“Once again it’s gonna be just the two of us, girlie,” he sighs, rubbing Monty’s nose as she nudges it into his chest. She understands.

Swiss’ jaw is clenched tight and his eyes still sting and he’s about to hop on and walk away from the best few months of his life like it was nothing when he hears footsteps on the soft ground behind him, followed by a familiar voice.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Swiss flinches, not turning to the other.

“Dew, you don’t unders–”

“I do,” Dewdrop interrupts him. “I know everything, Mounty spent the night at our place.”

Swiss looks over his shoulder despite his voice wavering and hot tears threatening to fall already. “You should be chasing me out of here with a pitchfork,” he jokes, but there’s no real humor in it.

“And yet I asked what the fuck do you think you’re doing,” the other man repeats, coming closer. He puts a hand on Monty’s neck to pet her; she leans into it and it’s as if both Dewdrop and the mare want to show the cowboy he should stay.

“What else can I do?” He shrugs, still not looking Dewdrop in the eye. “I messed up.”

“Yeah, you did. Big time,” he points out, “but the Shadow never sounded like a coward.”

Silence falls for a moment. Swiss takes a shaky breath and when he speaks again it’s barely audible, “I ain’t him, Dew. A coward is all I am.”

The other shakes his head. “You can’t leave her. She loves you.”

“And I love her, more than life itself,” Swiss claims and both of them know he’s not exaggerating. He’s never loved anything or anyone as much as he loves Mounty. She’s everything he’s not, she’s the best thing that ever happened to humanity, she erases all of it’s faults. She’s perfect and he’s…far from that. “I’m doing all of you a favor, I can’t–I don’t deserve her.”

“It’s not your decision.” Dewdrop argues. Swiss is surprised by his persistence, even though he knows the man is stubborn and more sharp-witted and wiser than he lets on. “She’ll forgive you, it’s how she is, you just have to be patient. Don’t run away, it’ll hurt her even more.”

“She’s scared of me.”

“Yeah, because you murdered more people than this town even has!” he bites back, nearly laughing, and Swiss hurts. Although he deserves it, he supposes. “I’m scared of you, too.”

Swiss’ breath hitches and he lets it back out with a dry sob, “Then why the hell are you trying to stop me?”

Dewdrop throws his arms up, nearly spooking Monty. “Because none of that matters! You said that the Shadow is not the true you and you’ve been here for long enough for me to believe that. Get rid of him once and for all and everything will be alright. Mounty will forgive you and forget about the fear.”

There’s nothing else Swiss can say. He wants to believe Dewdrop’s right, he needs him to be right if he is to stay, but he knows he’ll fuck it up all over again if he does. That’s just what he does.

Heartbreak and grief follow him wherever he goes, why would Sundown be any different?

“Come on, let’s get you a drink,” Dewdrop sighs, taking Swiss’ arm. His eyes widen, he’s not ready to see Mounty just yet, it’s too– “Relax, she ain't there now.”

He doesn’t say anything, but he lets the other walk him to the saloon, leaving tacked-up Monty behind. She looks rather pleased with the outcome, going back to her hay right away.

Dewdrop lets Swiss and himself in from the back and goes to make him a drink, leaving the cowboy in the storage. His head is throbbing and he really does need a drink, but he doubts whatever Dewdrop is pouring is going to be enough.

Before he realizes what he's doing he grabs an unopened bottle of whiskey off a shelf and shoves it under his shirt.

Just then Dewdrop comes back and hands him a glass that Swiss downs in two gulps. It burns his throat and belly but it's not enough.

Still, he thanks the other, “I'm gonna go now, I'll…I'll try to bring myself to talk to Mounty tomorrow.”

“You better.” With that Dewdrop leaves and Swiss heads back to the stable. Maybe he'll be warmer later, when the night comes, thanks to the alcohol. He takes the tack off Monty and settles himself on that same cube of hay that he slept on.

He sighs at how pathetic he is as he opens the bottle and glues his lips to it, reveling in the bitter taste and the acidic burn going down his throat.

A few hours later he notices he's moved. Or was moved.

Where? He doesn't really know but it's harder under his ass than the hay. He hums an off-key tune under his breath, rolling his head from one side to the other against a piece of wood. Is it a wall?

He zones out with an empty mind and he giggles at the foggy void taking over his brain. He has no idea how long he's been there and even where he is or what he's doing. It's dark but it might just be that his eyes are closed.

“Swiss? What the hell are you doing?” someone asks. The man tries to blink but his eyes are closed so he just squeezes them tighter for a moment before he manages to actually open them. His face feels numb as he tries to smile.

Swiss wonders how that beautiful girl knows his name.

“I’m–nevermind, but I do know your name.” Did he say that out loud? “Do you know my name?”

“Hmpf…” he huffs, trying to open his mouth and actually say what he wants to, ”you're ver’pretty bu–but I can't.”

“Can't what?” the girl asks, standing over him with her hands on her hips.

Mounty doubts Swiss can register the emotions on her face if he can't even recognize her, but she tries to mask them anyway. She's worried, she didn't expect to see Swiss tonight, much less in such a state. She hasn't made peace with all of what happened yet, but she still loves him and cares about him.

“There’s a girl, I–” Swiss hiccups, “I don't think she likes me anymore but–but I'm in love with her, y’know? So I…I can't do anything w’you.”

“That's fine.” Mounty crouches down, smiling, despite everything, at Swiss' ramble. He's drunk out of his mind and doesn’t realize it's her before him, but he is still loyal. “I just wanted to make sure you're okay over here, kind sir.”

“I ain’t a sir,” he giggles. “‘m a mess.”

“Respectfully, you have a point,” the barmaid agrees. She comes closer and reaches out to grab Swiss’ hand, trying to not shudder at the feeling of his skin on hers again, even though it's been barely twenty four hours since everything went down. “Which is why you can't stay here, come on, let's get you up.”

“No, I can't go w’you, my–my girl’s gonna be angry,” Swiss slurs in protest, shaking his head clumsily.

“Yeah?” Mounty can't help but giggle now, too. “I think your girl is gonna be more angry if you freeze to death out here.”

“Hmmm…but–but you can't touch me, ‘cause ‘m hers, o–okay?”

“Okay, I promise to not touch you anywhere weird,” Mounty grabs his other hand and tries to haul him up. It works as well as it can with Swiss in such a state, with him stumbling into her arms once he's up, “but I think I have to help you walk up the stairs, don't I?”

“Uh…p–pos–billy,” he hiccups again, but nods, grinning up at the girl. His breath stinks, but Mounty doesn't really mind. She is a barmaid after all, it's not the first drunk man she's dealing with. It is her man, though, this time.

She all but hangs him over her shoulder and walks into the saloon. The stairs are a challenge, but neither of them falls down, so Mounty considers it a success when she drops Swiss onto a bed in one of the guest rooms. She’s not ready to put him back in hers, not before they have a proper talk about everything. She knows she is going to forgive him, especially after what Dewdrop told her earlier, but they have to talk first.

Still, there’s a little voice in the back of Mounty’s head telling her to milk more out of Swiss. “Tell me about your girl, won't ya?”

“Oh, oh, she's…she's s’pretty, y’know? No offense t’you, but she’s the prettiest girl ever,” the man rambles, gesturing wildly. His eyes are wide and glassy—not only because of alcohol—and his grin is as wide and bright as ever. “She's an angel! She’s kind and–and lovely…and a–also she has nice…very nice boobies.”

“Huh.” Mounty puts a hand over her mouth so as not to snort. Of course he had to mention her tits. “She sounds amazing.”

“She is…” Swiss sighs dreamily, freezing with a goofy smile as he—most likely—gets lost in memories from not so long ago.

“Anyway, it’s way past bedtime for you, kind sir,” she snaps him out of it when she notices his eyes start to close on their own. “I think your girl would agree.”

“Mhmmm,” he hums in acknowledgement. “She’s always tellin’ me to go to bed when I don't wanna.”

“Sounds like she’s smart, too.” Mounty pushes him on the shoulder and he falls back like a ragdoll, flat on the bed.

“Mmm, the smartest,” Swiss mumbles, wiggling on the bed in something that looks like a rather poor attempt at getting comfortable. The barmaid shakes her head and throws a blanket over him.

And resists the urge to bend down and kiss him.

Swiss blinks and suddenly it’s morning.

His head is pounding and someone knocks on the door again and it doesn’t help it—even though it’s rather quiet. He realizes that the knocking is what woke him up. He tries to roll over and maybe get up to get the door but a wave of dizziness washes over him so he resolves to calling out, “Come in.”

His heart skips a beat when he sees Mounty in the door. Only now he realizes that he’s in one of the saloon rooms, but how he ended up there is a mystery. Though he supposes it might have something to with that bottle of whiskey he snatched yesterday.

Fuck.

“Good morning,” Mounty says, leaning against the doorframe. Swiss’ stomach turns and it’s not his hangover’ fault. “How are you feeling?”

“I’ve had way too much,” he mumbles. “Who brought me in here?”

“I did.” The barmaid shrugs and the corner of her mouth twitches upwards at Swiss’ grimace. “Found you half-conscious on my doorstep last night. Don’t remember much, do you?”

“Not really,” the cowboy admits. He sits up to lean against the wall and watches as Mounty walks inside and shuts the door behind her. She has a little basket hanging off of her arm and Swiss notices there’s faint steam coming from it.

“I can imagine. Here,” she hands him the basket, “from Rain.”

The man groans as the smell finally reaches him; freshly fried sausage with a slice of buttered bread and a glass of water.

“Thank you. Not only for this, for…everything.” Swiss takes a sip of water first, and even though he is not a fan of such a simple drink, his dehydration makes it taste heavenly. “Can we talk?”

Mounty doesn’t reply, but she nods before sitting on the edge of an empty bed across the bed. The man takes a bite out of his breakfast and it is delicious—as anything made by Rain—but there’s a certain bitterness to it at the distance that the other has put between them. He couldn’t expect anything less, but it aches nonetheless.

“Let’s start with apologies. I shouldn’t have hid who I was. We wouldn’t have gotten where we did if I had been honest, but I should’ve been, you didn’t deserve getting lied to. All I wanted was to get out of that life once and for all. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, sweetheart. You have no idea how much I regret everything.”

Mounty remains silent, but her eyes are on Swiss. Her presence alone is more than he could’ve wished for after everything. He swallows a few more bites of the food she brought and washes it down with more water before he dares to continue.

“Can I…will you let me explain everything?” he asks once the breakfast is gone. Swiss pulls his knees up and curls up as much as he can under a scratchy blanket; he tries not to think about how Mounty must’ve pulled it over him yesterday. “Can I tell you my story? I don’t want it to be an excuse, nothing can excuse what I did, but I just…I need you to know. Will you let me tell you?”

The barmaid still doesn’t speak, but her gaze is soft and somewhat curious, as if she’s trying to be angry with him—mad, even—but can’t bring herself to hate him and is looking for a reason to forgive him, whether it’s there or not.

Swiss doesn’t deserve her in the slightest.

The problem, though, is that his lie—or rather avoiding the truth—is, after all, the least serious of his crimes. He's a murderer and even if Mounty can forgive his dishonesty, he can't imagine she'd be willing to look past all of his sins.

“I have…had a sister. Our dad was famous for getting into all kinds of trouble and one day he got himself killed and my sister—Sunny—kidnapped,” he pauses to take a deep, shuddering breath. He hasn’t uttered her name since the day he buried her. He wipes a tear from the corner of his eye, threatening to fall, before he continues. “I had nothing, there was nothing I could’ve done to get her back, but I went there and begged, offered my life in exchange for hers. They…those men decided that they’ll let her go when I pay off our father’s debt by doing all their dirty work for a while. That’s how the Shadow came to be.”

“How did…what happened to her?” Swiss flinches at Mounty’s voice. She sounds like Sunshine did, a bit; something he has noticed that first night down by the bar and tried so hard to ignore all these months.

“I did all they wanted, all their bidding, everything. I became a monster, a soulless–” he says, barely above a whisper. “I should’ve known it seemed too easy, that they weren’t men of their word.”

He drops his head against his knees, still not fully able to say…it out loud. Saying something, letting it sound, makes things real and Swiss is far away from accepting the reality in which she’s not with him.

It’s barely audible when he does say it, “They killed her the moment they didn’t need me anymore.”

“Swiss, baby, I’m–” Mounty gasps. “I’m so, so sorry. Nobody should have to go through anything like that.”

“I killed all of them that night,” the man chuckles pitifully, sniffling wetly as he rubs his eyes against the blanket. “That’s why nobody heard of me after that, because there was no Shadow anymore, he died with his masters. I should’ve done that earlier, I should’ve fought and saved her, I–I failed her, Momo.”

The barmaid is speechless. She…Swiss shouldn’t have lied to her, but she understands—though not really, she’s never gone through something as awful as the man before her, but she can understand how all he wanted was…out.

“I don’t–I don’t want you to forgive me and take me back with open arms,” the cowboy cries quietly, “it's just that…what I need is for you to–to understand. Please, sweetheart, just tell me you understand why I did what I did.”

“I do, darling,” Mounty states, loud and clear, and Swiss sobs with relief, choking on air. “But I will–I am taking you back with open arms. You're mine and I'm yours, Swiss.”

She gets up and walks over to the other bed—with her arms open, indeed. She’s not much bigger than the cowboy, but in that moment he’s tiny, as fragile as a man can be. Mounty wraps her arms around him and pulls him close, lets him sob into her chest.

“Seeing her body…seeing her, my baby sister, and having to bury her, I–I don’t… Believe me, sweetheart, I have paid for all I’ve done t–tenfold.”

“C’mere, lay down,” Mounty whispers as she strokes Swiss’ arm with all the gentleness in the world, not knowing any words that could fill the gaping hole in his heart. He keeps quiet, but obeys, resting his head on the barmaid’s shoulder. She brings them both down and tightens her arms around him, trying to comfort that broken, broken man as much as she can. She doesn’t feel like it’s enough and Swiss doesn’t have words to tell her that it’s more than enough and way more than he deserves.

What he can tell her, though, is words that he’s never going to be too overwhelmed, exhausted or hungover to say.

“I love you, girl.”

Swiss is afraid that he’s not going to hear it back ever again, but Mounty smiles and mutters, “I love you, too, cowboy.”

Somehow, hope fills him. Hope that they’re going to be okay.

He’s surprised to find himself believing it.

#hypnone writes #the band ghost #nameless ghouls #swiss ghoul #mountain ghoul #swissalps #swissalps' sundown

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coffeebeanwriting · 2 years

Text

What Bores a Reader The Most?

I asked my followers to answer the question “what bores you the most when reading a book?”

Please keep in mind that these are all opinions and you’ll find yourself agreeing and disagreeing with some. Personally, I think this is amazing insight into the minds of unique readers all around the globe! I decided to keep reoccurring answers instead of merging them, just so people could see the repeating themes.

“Predictable conflicts or character actions. I want to be surprised.”

“When there’s no clear plot. When it looks like the book is leading nowhere.”

“Endless description. Nothing makes me more prone to skipping ahead.”

“When it feels like what you’re reading lacks purpose and there is no meaningful contribution to the plot.”

“Characters with less personality than a wet paper towel. Main characters with zero personality.”

“When I can’t picture anything in my head or what I understood changes randomly.”

“When a conversation is happening and I can’t follow which character is saying what.”

“Daily routines in a story. Like, I do not care.”

“When the world doesn’t move if the main character doesn’t interact with it. This applies to t.v shows, too.”

“Something that does not have a build up like a sudden relationship out of the blue.”

“When I’m so confused it doesn’t make sense anymore.”

“When there’s a 3 page description of some random object.”

“Wayyyy too much detail.”

“When the big plot twist is revealed and I guessed it ages ago.”

“Too slow or too long.”

“When the author unnecessarily drags the story and takes ages to advance to the climax.”

“Fan service that doesn’t contribute to the plot.”

“Useless descriptions and/or actions.”

“Over description of a landscape (cough old literature cough).”

“No action, no violence. I don’t like when characters talk for too long.”

“Long descriptions.”

“Too much descriptions when you are in a exciting moment. It breaks immersion.”

“Lack of imagery.”

“Constant usage of archaic vocabulary.”

“When the main character is extremely passive and doesn’t act or react.”

“Excessive description that doesn’t further the plot or meaningfully add to characterization.”

“Overly predictable plot, overly crude language for the sake of it, cringe/pompous scenes.”

“Long and boring exposition dumps.”

“Characters that never loose 😴.”

“When the world building starts out great and is really immersive until later on when things don’t add up.”

“When a character has too much internal dialogue.”

“Explaining “the science” behind magic systems in unnecessary detail.”

“Over description. I will skim and skip a lot of it.”

“Too much background info at the beginning.”

“When there’s small talk about a topic I don’t understand. It get’s sooo boring.”

“Too much inner monologue.”

“Slow plot.”

“When it’s just dragging on and on with the backstory.”

“Having to reread a sentence/paragraph a billion times because my brain got distracted.”

“When there’s no action, suspense or something similar for the whole chapter.”

“Things that aren’t relevant to the story.”

“Too much dialogue.”

“A lil too much fantasies.”

“Over drawn setting descriptions.”

“Overly long chapters, repetitive scenes, lots of complicated worldbuilding.”

“When it’s too simple or too detailed.”

“Long, long expositions.”

“Repeating phrases, plots ,etc.”

“Infodumps, especially in the beginning.”

“Too much history.”

“Overly descriptive settings.”

“Slow plot. I need drama!”

“Long chapters.”

“Slow pacing.”

“No major plot twist.”

“Miscommunication trope.”

“Massively long descriptive paragraphs.”

“Too much exposition in the beginning.”

“Long and confusing story building.”

“Repeating plot points. For example: the hero learning to trust his friends a million times without any real progression.”

“Training scenes that show nothing special. Especially sword fighting or head to hand combat.”

“Generic plot developments unless it’s written well.”

“Overuse of complicated words and sentences.”

“Long paragraphs.”

“I’m so over the bubble sunshine and extra grumpy trope.”

“When a character is overthinking.”

“Romanic subplots bore me. Having too many love interests.”

“When it switches between characters/subplots and one of them is awfully boring.”

“When too much information on a character is given one at a time.”

“Clichés.”

“When it takes a long time before the story gets interesting.”

“Long, long, long descriptions particularly of places that aren’t all that important.”

“Descriptions of unnecessary things.”

“Too much side character’s story. They’re a side for a reason.”

“I love beautiful writing so there must be some lovely descriptions... but don’t drone on.”

“Flat characters.”

“Scenes in which my favorite characters do not appear.”

“When the characters have no clear goal or the goal is too weak.”

“If most or all of the characters are unlikable. Then I don’t care what happens to them in the story. Being an evil/mean character is different from being unlikable.”

“When the plot does not move forward.”

“Writing unnecessary, irrelevant things that don’t have an effect on the story.”

“No real plot. The protagonist has no fire to them.”

“When the protagonist needs to figure out a love triangle and which person they like the most.”

“When the interesting parts happen right at the end.”

“When there’s too much info dumping with no easy transitions.”

“No progression after chapters and chapters. Characters not having development.”

“Too much description and a slow start to the story.”

“When characters are too oblivious to something.”

“Oblivious main characters, lazy plots, stereotypical encounters, main character is a god trope.”

“Unnecessarily long amounts of monologue or dialogue.”

“The second chance trope bores me.”

“Slow beginnings... like, get to the action in 3 chapters of less please.”

“Chapters being too long with small writing.”

“If the characters go through the same conflict over and over again.”

“Classic books... I don’t understand a thing, haha.”

“Being bombarded with unnecessary detail.”

“Bad boy meets good girl trope bores me.”

“Too much landscape descriptions like Tolkien or Stephen King.”

“Bad dialogue, too much excessive background details and too many character tags.”

“When the book moves too slowly.”

“Over described scenes or characters.”

“Descriptions without inputs of what a characters is thinking about. I need a lens of character POV to make descriptions interesting to read.”

“A badly written romance subplot where the characters involved don’t have any chemistry whatsoever.”

“I get a bit lost when there’s too much details about an environment.”

“When the story doesn’t go anywhere for a really long time.”

Instagram: coffeebeanwriting

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yawntutsyip · 2 years

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₊˚୭ paring: Lo’ak x Deaf!Human!Reader x Ao’nung

₊˚୭ authors note: ‘sign’ is when they are signing but also is thoughts as well, just keep the context in mind <3 sorry it took forever to write this 😭 I was so stuck writing this scene so it’s kinda shitty. Apologizes <3 // some background info about the nickname Lo’ak calls (Y/N): sevin means beautiful, he calls her that and she doesn’t know because he won’t tell her what the word means, he always says it out loud too never in sign. // to make it easier for me ASL and Na’vi sign are the same 💀

masterlist : chapter one

Silence | Chapter Two:

Due to being deaf for a long time, you had to find other ways to help yourself understand those around you, and one of those ways was reading people's expressions and body language fairly well.

When you had gotten back to the lab from the Sully family’s Marui with your mother you knew something had happened when they told all the kids to get out so the adults could talk.

Sitting on one of the chairs next to your mother while she continued taking notes on a new plant she was researching, You watched her facial expressions.

Her eyes weren’t lit up with that light she gets when she is studying a new plant, she didn’t have that bright smile upon her face instead it was replaced with a sadden frown with her eyebrows furrowed not in curiosity but in stress.

Taping her shoulder to get her attention. ‘Mother, will you tell me what’s wrong?’ You signed with a worried look on your face. Whatever was bugging her was obviously something big because she was always a positive woman, making sure she looked at the bright side of things.

Your mother pulls away from her notebook and you watch as her eyes close and shoulders raise and lower telling she let out a loud sigh. ‘I have something important that we need to talk about… follow me’ she signed and grabbed ahold of your hand pulling you guys into a more private room. You followed her with slow steps, afraid of what this import talk was gonna be about.

You both sit down on the couch in the room.

‘You know how I was talking with Neytiri and Jake? Earlier?’ Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion but nodded your head telling her to go on.

‘The family has to leave the clan…’ you quickly put her hands down stopping her from signing anymore and shake your head. ‘Why are they leaving? What do you mean? They can’t leave me! They are my friends!’

You fly your hands everywhere as you panic at the thought of your only friends leaving you. The only people, that are your age, on this planet that you could communicate to without having to write on a piece of paper.

Tears fall out from your eyes but you quickly wiped them away with the back of your hand. Your mother gently lifts your chin up making you look at her, you see the tears in her eyes as well.

They were also her friends, just as close to the family as you were. ‘That’s not the only thing….you have to go with them, without me’ her hands shook while signing before completely breaking down in front of you. She wasn’t just sad that her friends were leaving, she was also losing her daughter too. Your eyes widen as you take in every word.

‘What do you mean? Mom? What are you talking about?’ You asked, shaking her shoulders to make her look at you. Finally getting her to look up you see tears streaming down her face falling into her lap ‘They know what you look like (y/n). If they ever come here they will take you away just like spider and to try and get information out of you. It’s not safe here, you need to leave with them. Trust me it was hard to say yes, I don’t want my baby to leave but if it’s the only thing to keep you safe I have to’

‘I can’t leave you! I’m not going with them unless you are, mom you can’t do this please!’

She shook her head wiping the tears that continued to fall down your cheeks. ‘You guys are leaving later today’ whimpers finally erupted from your throat as you bury your face in her shoulder continuing to cry letting your sorrows leave your mouth. Your mother could only cry with you and hold you close for the last time.

Both families urgently packed their belongings away getting ready to set off on a long journey, finding a new place to call home.

The Sully family already had said goodbye to their clan and we’re waiting on you and your mother to say your last goodbyes.

‘I love you (y/n), no matter what I will always love you’ your mother signed to you, tears now streaming down her face that she didn’t bother wiping.

You cry with her, you hug your mom for the last time and pull away looking into her eyes while holding her hands.

“I love you too” you said out loud for the first time in years, hoping that it came out somewhat audible. If this was gonna be the last time you’ll get to see your mother you were gonna make sure she heard the three words with her ears and not her eyes.

Your mothers eyes widen hearing your voice for the first time since you were just a little girl.

The family behind you, eyes widened as well, never hearing your voice before, it was very soft and quiet, a little hoarse. “(Y/N) has such a pretty voice mom!” Tuk chimed with a big smile telling Neytiri who she was sitting with.

A hand lands on your shoulder telling you it’s time to go, you turn your head and crank it up seeing Lo’ak smiling. “Don’t worry Auntie I will make sure to keep (Y/N) safe and sound.” Lo’ak said to your mother giving her a hug goodbye as well.

“I know you will, thank you Lo’ak…I promise I’ll see you guys again one day” She hugged the taller boy back giving a kiss on his forehead.

“Come on Sevin, let’s get going” Lo’ak said grabbing your hand in his and leading you to his ikran. He gets on first making the tsaheylu calming the creature before grabbing you by the waist to put you in front of him.

‘Don’t drop me Lo ’ you signed to him, you feel him laugh behind you before rubbing your arm and reassurance and giving his parents a nod signaling they were all ready to go.

Quickly you turn your head looking at your mother and hold out your hand with your pointer and pinky up with your thumb out saying I love you.

The journey was long, you guys had to take breaks to give the Ikran time to rest and fuel up for the next couple hours of straight flying.

“Mom, when are we gonna be done flying…I’m tired of it” Tuk whined in her mothers arms. You and the family had decided to take one last break before setting off again in the morning.

You and Neteyam were both passed out sleeping next to each other with Lo’ak was on the other side of you playing with the grass growing from the ground while Kiri was sitting next to Jake.

Everyone was tired, it had already been two days since leaving everything they’ve known behind, but they were not about to lose hope. “I know Tuk, soon…” Neytiri whispered into her hair as she gave the little girl a kiss on the head. All she wanted was for her family to be safe, she prayed to Eywa that they would find somewhere so they no longer have to run and hide.

Lo’ak looked over at your face as you slept soundly caged between Neteyam’s protective arms, for once you didn’t have a frown on your face or tear stained cheeks, you looked peaceful.

Throughout the whole journey you had multiple breakdowns from how overwhelming the journey was for you.

The family had to calm you down from having panic attacks, it was scary waking up in unknown surroundings, no mother by your side to hug you tightly rubbing your back as a sign of saying ‘it’s okay, your safe now’

You missed your mother a lot, but you quickly learned that this was in fact the safest option for everyone and you just had to accept that this is what it’s gonna be from now on, although you loved Neytiri like a mother she could never fill in your real mothers spot.

After taking one last long flight journey you guys finally spot a village from afar, everyone’s face lights up in excitement as they fly closer and closer. The sound of horns go off announcing to everyone someone has arrived but it goes unknown to you as you were staring in awe at the ilus swimming in the water underneath you.

Once the family had found a clear and safe place to land the ikrans, they immediately get surrounded by Na’vi people, some with curious eyes never seeing a human before and others with dark glares as they saw you as unwelcomed, a demon.

Seeing all the eyes on you but having no clue what they were shouting at you was the scariest thing, but you had a pretty good idea that they weren’t nice things, the one good thing about being deaf is that all you had to do was close your eyes and it was as if no one was there, so that’s exactly what you did. You closed your eyes and hid your face in the closest person who was near you which was Neteyam and hid your face in his side hoping that all this will be over soon.

Ao’nung and Rotxo made their way through the crowd of people to see the newcomers that caused such commotion. Once they got close enough both boys stare with wide eyes as their gaze lands on a small human girl who was hiding her face in one of the newcomers' sides. They both look at each other thinking the same thing ‘is that a human?’ Before walking closer to get a better view.

“She must be their pet! They have a human as their pet haha!” Ao’nung says out loud while pointing in your direction. The sully kids immediately go alert as they hear someone talking about you. “The human is weird but look at those baby tails! How are they supposed to swim! They are so weird!-“ Rotxo’s teasing got cut off by Tsireya who had just arrived, as she swatted his pointing hand. “Do not Rotxo! Knock it off both of you!”

Tsireya scolds the boys before turning her head to the family, her eyes meeting another pair. She smiles as the boy sends a wave in her direction, her eyes continue to trail down and land on you who finally had pulled your face out from Neteyam’s side and made eye contact with her.

Her eyes widened, never seeing a human before. Yeah she’s heard the terrible stories about how bad humans were and all the destruction they have caused their planet but she didn’t believe all of them were bad. Tsireya sends you a friendly smile followed by a wave and you shyly reciprocate the gesture with your cheeks begging to heat up.

‘She’s so pretty’ both of you thought. You watch as the girl's head turns with a worried expression, following to where she was looking you see two Na’vi who seemed like the Olo’eyktan and Tsahìk step forward.

You watch as the Olo’eyktan talks with Jake, he doesn't seem angry at all, he even seems friendly, but just in case, you watch his face for any sign of anger. While watching them conversate you didn’t notice the Tsahìk circling around with a sharp glare, picking and poking at Lo’ak and Kiri until you feel a harsh pull on your hand that causes you to swing your head up to be face to face with the woman.

You could feel the hair on your neck stand up, blood running cold as you stood there paralyzed with fear not knowing what to do and what was going on. “They even have the audacity to bring a human to our village!” Ronal speaks with venom as she stares you down. If looks could kill you would already be 7 feet under.

“Leave her alone! She brings no harm!” Neytiri hisses and pulls you away from Ronal, holding you close in her protective embrace ready to strike at anyone else who tried touching you. Jake pulls you and Neytiri behind him. “I apologize for my mate! We’ve had a long trip and she’s very protective. I know seeing a human is intimidating but I promise you (Y/N) means no harm. Right (y/n)?” Jake says to Tonowari and Ronal while signing to you, horribly. You honestly had no clue what he was trying to say to you but nod your head hoping you didn’t agree to something bad.

Tonowari and Ronal share looks as if they were talking telepathically, after Ronal lets out a frustrated sigh Tonowari turns back to the family. "Toruk Makto and his family will stay with us, Treat them as our brothers and sisters. They do not know the sea so they will be like babies taking their first breath…I’m not sure how your human will do but we will do our best”

A big wave of relief washed over the family. They finally had a place to stay, a place to now call home, meaning no more long and tiring flights. You look to Lo’ak with a hopeful gleam in your eyes, praying that you didn’t read everyone’s happy faces the wrong way and get your hopes up.

‘We can stay’ he signed to you with the biggest smile on his face. Unknown to you two, the three Metkayina kids stood there in shock as they saw Lo’ak and you signing back and forth. ‘Who were these people? And how did they know sign?’

tags: @gender3nvyy @eywas-heir @kenzi-woycehoski @ilovejakesullysdick @fanboyluvr @definitelynot-here @buckyb4rnes @jakesully-sbabygirl @iikatsukii @totesnothere04 @mashiromochi @dazecrea @grierpilots @sloppierjewel @jellybeanstacey0519 @neteyamforlife @bajadotcom @thecrazyswamp @juicyj28 @minkyungseokie @itswhateversworld @mhaorian @lemonmoonmochi

#atwow x reader #avatar x reader #atwow #avatar the way of water #atwow imagine #aonung x reader #ao’nung x reader #lo’ak imagine #lo’ak x reader #aonung imagine #ao’nung imagine #deaf!reader

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fictionstudent · 2 months

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How to pull off "show not tell"

“Show, not tell” is a common advice that both emerging and emerged writers (lol) hear quite often. But most of us don’t really understand what it completely means, until really later.

Personally, I took the advice by heart. But I had the definition wrong. I thought the advice meant that you don’t write “he was angry” but rather “he frowned”, “he glared” or something like that. And it’s kinda right. But kinda. And you can really mess it up when you only half-know what it means—believe me, my first couple of novels were a mess.

So, you might ask what “show, not tell” even means—what it actually means. And I’m here to tell you everything I know about it.

***

What is “show, not tell”

Well, it’s actually a quite recent writing tool in the industry. I don’t really know how and where the term originated—and I’m too lazy to actually Google it—so I won’t get to that.

I’ve heard and read about this term a lot—right from the time I’ve begun writing. It’s quite famous. In fact, it’s a prerequisite these days. Many beginning writers would have heard this criticism that their prose doesn’t really show, it just tells. It’s filled with telling. You should show, not tell.

So, what does this “show, not tell” even mean? The advice is quite self-explanatory, you see. It’s when you show your characters doing or feeling something rather than just telling your readers what happened. So, on one aspect, it refrains you from narrating your story.

And by narrating your story, I mean the parts where the characters are not moving in real-time, but the writer is narrating what had happened. For example,

And we crossed the seas. The journey wasn’t long, but those days we had nothing to do. We were bored the heck out of our brains. Those days felt like an eternity. Until today, when we finally found what we were looking for—a piece of land in the middle of the Pacific. The Hirohoto Islands.

You don’t do this. It’s okay when a character is telling the story to another character. But a narrator should refrain from doing this.

According to this advice, you actually show scenes of the journey—maybe show that the MC was fiddling with stuff all day long, people were drinking booze or something day and night, and some just stared into the blue oceans day in and day out, until this one guy saw a green dot far away. In fact, whatever I just said can be used quite literally, if you don’t wanna go into the details of the scenes. Yeah, you can even go into more details and maybe write a little chapter filled with such scenes.

But, well, as you could have guessed, it’s on a macro-level. The advice can also be used on a micro-level.

For example, you don’t write,

I was angry at Sara. But she didn’t care.

Instead, you write,

I wanted to kill Sara on the spot. I wanted to choke her, I wanted to stab a knife in her chest. But Sara—the damn audacity! She just stood there, simply staring at me like nothing happened just now, like she never said anything to rage me up like this. She didn’t care about me, did she? She never cared.

The second one is filled with anger. And the dejection that the narrator feels, knowing that Sara doesn’t care about him anyway.

On micro-level, there are two actually two ways to imply this advice. And this is something that I had to figure out on my own—no one told me that there were two ways to do this, no article mentions this.

One way is to use visuals, the other monologues.

***

Visuals

Let me explain. When you see the movie, you don’t witness the inner monologues or thoughts of your narrators. You just experience the way the actors act—the way their gazes shift, their body movement changes, and all that. That’s using visuals. For example, read this scene where the character is just betrayed,

Her fists clenched hard. Her arms were trembling. And her eyes… They tried hard to fight back those tears. But the dam could break any moment now.

You get the feeling that the character was betrayed in some way, and that she was both angry and dejected at the situation. She wanted to cry. She wanted to punch.

But I never wrote,

She was so angry at them. She wanted to cry, but she controlled herself.

The second one doesn’t give us the same form of feeling as the first one. The first one obviously reads better, and everyone would prefer that.

***

Monologues

This is something that’s unique to the art of prose. It’s only in prose that you can witness the inner monologues of the characters, and use them to tell a story. Films, comics, and other visual media don’t do this.

And yes, that’s what I mean when I say monologues. Use these monologues to show what the characters feel, and how they react.

For example, let’s take the previous example where the character has just been betrayed,

She couldn’t believe this. Was this for real? Was this… really happening? Really?

How could someone do something like this? And… And to her? What had she done to be betrayed like this?

Again, you hear what the characters are feeling. You understand their tone. And you emphasize with them this way.

***

Visuals or Monologues - How to choose

Now, you might be wondering that if you can use the “show, not tell” in two ways, how do you choose which one to use and which one not, especially in a particular scene?

Well, for that, read the two examples above again—the ones about the betrayed character. Take about a minute to scroll up, c’mon.

You’d understand that on a subconscious level, there’s something oddly different between the two. It’s as if none of the two really give a complete picture of the scene. You get one aspect from the visuals, one from the monologue. But you don’t really get that the character is actually betrayed until I tell you that before you read the examples.

That’s the problem with using one over the other—you often miss out something or the other. In some scenes, maybe where you use stronger action verbs, the visuals might be enough, while in some scenes, visuals won’t really matter, but rather, the monologue will.

But in most scenes, you’d need to mix the two types. Read this,

She couldn’t believe this. Was this for real? Was this… really happening? Really?

Her fists clenched hard. Her arms were trembling. And her eyes… They tried hard to fight back those tears. But the dam could break any moment now.

How could someone do something like this? And… And to her? What had she done to be betrayed like this?

I simply mixed the two—both visuals and monologues. And now, the prose tells the whole story. It can stand on its own, without me telling the context. It feels complete.

See, visuals and monologues are not two ways to “show, not tell” technique, but rather, are two tools that complement each other. Yeah, you can always use one instead of both, but you don’t need to choose one over the other—choose both. Or rather, choose none, if you think that helps the scene better.

***

A common mistake to avoid

Some writers often make this mistake that you should try avoiding. This mistake is really hard to notice, sometimes, but with practice, maybe you can learn how to solve it.

And that mistake is that you often show and tell. For example,

She was angry. She glared at him, her fists clenched hard, like she’d just punch him in the face and get this crap done with.

It’s two sentences. Notice this—the first sentence clearly tells you that the character is angry. And then the second one shows it.

This way, you’re repeating the action twice. The reader would make one mental image in their head when they read the first sentence, and then you make it up for them, in which case, they’d need to adjust that image. That’s not how you make your prose flow.

Never repeat action. An action that happens once in the prose should be mentioned once. The later sentences can expand on it, but not mention the action again. Repeating actions happen a lot in “show, not tell”, and sometimes, it’s not so easy to point it out.

***

Solution

I’ve recently got a hold on this “show, not tell” advice too, to be honest. And as someone who’s recently cleared its basics, I’d admit it—it’s tough to just go and start implementing it.

Therefore, in my current WIP—in which I’m really making sure I follow this rule—I’ve developed a technique that might work for you too, for someone who’s just started out.

Don’t care about this rule in the first draft. You can tell as much as you want in your first draft—go for it. In fact, that’s what I’ve been doing currently too.

But when you’re done with the draft, mark all the places where you think you’ve told and not shown, and then when you’re writing the second draft, just replace all the telling parts with the showing parts. Simply replace them all, and rewrite.

It’s that simple, really.

Even if you’re far into your project and now feel you’ve not really stuck with the advice and messed up, don’t scrap the whole project. I’ve always scrapped projects because sometimes I felt I messed up quite hard, and that’s why I’d advise you not to. In your case, simply go for a re-read, mark the telling phrases, and re-write them. You’re done.

***

Conclusion

I hope this article will help you guys. I also wanted to talk about why you should follow this advice of “show, not tell”, why the readers today love it, and when to actually break this rule to tell stuff to the readers. But I thought that it’d deviate this article too much, so I stuck to the basics. I might talk about the other stuff in some other article.

Anyway, see you around!

#writers and poets #writing resources #writing help #writers #writerscommunity #writeblr #writing community #writers on tumblr

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formulapookie · 21 days

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💛💛

Under the cut to read on tumblr, here to read on Ao3

chapter 1 ; chapter 2

Les fleurs du mal rosquez, 2.1k words

Next race is two weeks later, championship finale, and Marc has been feeling increasingly worse for these past days.

The coughing had gone on almost non-stop, sometimes accompanied by petals, sometimes just a bothersome feeling of suffocation.

He doesn’t precisely know when, but some of the petals have started coming out colored a deep blue now, the yellow still there, perfectly matching Vale’s color scheme.

He had a half thought of reaching out to Vale, telling him about his situation, and telling him how truly hurt he was.

But he ultimately didn’t, he couldn’t - after last time, when he tested on his skin what hate meant he couldn’t bear the thought of being close to Vale without breaking down.

It had only gone worse, from his visit to Vale’s motorhome, he could feel his lungs crush under the pressure of the roots around them.

His brother knew something was wrong but couldn’t say what, Marc hadn’t spoken to him about his problem at all, and much less to his father.

His mother, well she didn’t need any kind of words to know what was happening to him, not after he had yelled at her when he came back and found his room stripped of any kind of reference to Vale, the room who was supposed to be his sanctuary, the room he wanted to photograph and send to Vale to remind him.

Remind him he had been there, had seen it all, reminding him how they had shared his room for more than a night.

And it was all gone, as if it was never there, just a ghost in Marc’s heart.

Marc had yelled so much to her his throat closed, he had begun coughing and gasping for air, until a bunch of petals had come out his mouth, falling to the ground, next to the cardboard boxes where his mother had carefully put away all the collection bikes and the poster.

The cap and the framed picture on top of them, the helmet stored in another box, wrapped so as not to ruin it.

He had cried then, cried so much he barely could breathe, and his mother had just held him, trying to calm him down as more petals made their way out of his lungs.

“per què fa tant mal mare? Vull que s'aturi, si us plau, necessito que s'aturi” (Why does it hurt so much mom? I want it to stop, please, I need it to stop)

“perquè estimes amb tot el cor, i la gent no és tan amorosa com tu, Marc” (Because you love with all your heart, and people are not as loving as you, Marc)

“Em fa tant mal que no puc respirar, per què m'odia? Em va dir que m'estimava. Per què m'odia? L'estimo mare, l'estimo” (It hurts so much I can’t breathe, why does he hate me? He told me he loved me. Why does he hate me? I love him mom, I love him)

“Ho sé, ho sé, l'estimes tant que estàs disposat a no sotmetre's a l'operació perquè tens por d'oblidar-lo” (I know, I know, you love him so much you’re willing not to undergo the operation because you’re scared you’ll forget him)

“Només vull que em torni a estimar” (I just want him to love me back)

“Ho sé Marc, ho sé” (I know Marc I know)

He had passed out in his mother’s arms, tears all over his face and lungs burning.

He didn’t understand how Vale could hate him so much after all the promises he made, all the murmured “I love you”s between the sheets, all the sweet glances when he stayed over at Vale’s.

He's preparing for the press con now, quali gone, he had crashed a few minutes to the end, he had trouble getting up, but he had managed to get a few good laps in.

The crash had made him lose breath, the little one he still has.

For a game of sorts, he’s sat next to Vale at the press con, and he hates it.

He’ll see how pathetic he looks like this, how lonely and miserable he is without Vale in his life.

They don’t speak, Vale ignores him completely if not to bad mouth him to the press, who like flies on honey is eager to get the micro expressions on Marc’s unreadable face.

When the journalists turn to Lorenzo for some questions Vale strikes.

It’s calculated, cruel, made to hurt.

“You like helping him uh? You sucked his dick too? Did you go to him and let him fuck you as a thank you for letting him win? Did he fuck you well Marc? I bet you enjoyed his dick so much given how you ran to me immediately after to suck me off”

“Stop it Vale please”

“Ah stop what? I’m having fun here aren’t you? Does he know how you like to be treated like the whore you are?”

Marc can’t hold it anymore, not with the amount of cruelty Vale is throwing his way.

He starts to cough, turning towards Vale, and the petals fall from his lips, they’re of a dark deep blue.

He can’t stay here, he just can't, he has to get out this damn press con now.

Vale is staring at the petals, one of them has landed on his lap. The room has gone silent, one can only hear Marc‘s all-but- hidden coughs as he runs out the room.

The journalists are frozen, Vale rushes out the room.

He doesn’t make it too far before noticing Marc leaning over a bin coughing and puking those fucking yellow and blue petals.

Some of the people standing out of the press con room start to take out phones and cameras to record Marc.

Vale tries to get close to Marc, somehow shield him from the flashing of the phones and the fuckers taking pictures of him, but Marc just pushes him away.

Yells at him to go away.

And Vale is shocked because he never heard Marc yell, much less would he have expected Marc to yell at him.

He tries to get close again, understand if what’s happening is truly what he thinks is happening.

And Marc now just looks like a wounded animal, and he hates it; he hates it even more than being insulted by Vale. He's weak in front of who knows how many people, he’s weak in front of Vale.

He feels one of Vale’s hands on his arms and jerks away with force.

“Don’t touch me!”

He’s crying, face red and his whole body is shivering.

Vale doesn’t really make out what is going on, it’s all too confusing right now.

He only sees a flash of blue, speeding right next to him, and closing the distance to Marc as he’s frozen there.

“Marc let's go away I’m taking you to the medical center come on, let’s go”

As he focuses back on reality he only understands Lorenzo has come to Marc’s rescue, somehow, and managed to drag him away.

He’s standing there, the flashing of phones disturbing, press con canceled, his mind racing.

He walks back to his motorhome, everyone saw the press con, he avoids talking to people.

Meanwhile Marc has been taken to the med center, he didn’t want to go, he tried to free himself from Jorge’s hold, but the older man just didn’t let go, he was stronger than him in this situation, Marc too debilitated by the illness.

When he arrives at the center he’s shivering, his body is burning, he’s coughed so many times he feels his whole throat scratch and tear at every breath he takes, his lungs feel caged in an intricate maze of roots.

He’s crying and sweating and shivering, he looks like he’s on the verge of a collapse from how much his body is out of his control.

“Marc you have to focus back on where you are I need you to focus on where you are”

The voice of the doctor seems far, as if he’s talking through a glass door.

He somehow manages to get back, resurface to reality.

The coughing stops, for now at least, but the fever is really high, and the tremors are only slightly better.

“Marc, were you aware you were suffering from Hanahaki?”

“Yes”

Marc’s voice sounds so feeble and thin he doesn’t think it’s him doing the talking.

“I need your consent and signature here to have you transported to the hospital for the surgery, we caught it in time luckily, you just need to sign here and I’ll-“ “No” “Marc don’t be stupid sign the damn form” “No” “Marc, you understand the risk you’re putting yourself through?”

“Yes. I can’t - I just can’t forget him, you get it? I know he’ll - with a bit more time he’ll love me back. He’ll love me again. I can’t have the surgery. I have to race tomorrow I have no time”

Jorge is just staring into the void, he can’t believe this kid is wiling to fucking risk his life for what? Valentino Rossi?

Because no matter the fact Marc has not said his name, he’s got heart eyes for him since they met, and the two of them were all but subtle.

He is willing to sacrifice his health for a man so egotistical he dares to blame this same kid for ruining his chance at a tenth title?

A kid who for fuck’s sake is willing to endure this inferno just because he can’t think of living without the knowledge of who Vale is?

The same Vale who’s now sitting in his motorhome, on his couch, silent, trying to elaborate what he just saw.

A feeling of guilt is gnawing at his guts, twisting them in a way he doesn’t like in the slightest.

He had been pushed away by Marc. First time in history he was the one who was pushed away, yelled at, distanced.

And it feels fucking horrible.

The door opens slightly, Uccio sneaks in, an ugly looking grin on his face.

“What the fuck did I do Uccio”

There’s silence, the man doesn’t answer, he waits for Vale to finish.

“I - that’s a kid I - he was puking petals fucking God, they were all blue and and yellow I - oh God”

“I don’t think those petals were for you Vale”

At this Vale gets up, he’s angry, and something else Uccio can’t quite figure out.

“Not for me? The fuck do you mean not for me? Yellow and blue remind you of something Uccio? Huh? Maybe I don’t know, MY fucking colours? The ones I’ve been wearing all the time? Why the fuck are you saying shit like this? Why - why did you come to me saying he - he would ruin my championship”

Uccio takes a step back, Vale is too close to him and a bit too angry for his liking.

Every word he speaks is like poison to Vale’s mind and heart, it takes over everything else, over every rational thought.

“There weren’t any yellow petals Vale. Just blue. Blue petals each time he coughed. And look, look how he pushes and yells you away and look how when Lorenzo comes close he melts in his arms. What does blue make you think of?”

“Me, Yamaha for fucks sake”

“Yamaha. But whose one? Look how the coughing stops here, when Lorenzo goes to drag him away”

The sequences playing on the ipad screen are undeniably those Uccio spoke about.

He was sure he had seen yellow petals, he was sure.

Like he was sure Marc wasn’t responsible for the losing of the tenth, until Uccio had shown him proof.

every cough two or three blue petals coming out his mouth, Marc pushing him away, Lorenzo being accepted as a savior.

“The petals are not for you Vale. They’re for Lorenzo. Why else would he have helped him win? Why else would the petals be blue? Why else would he trust only Lorenzo to be close?”

And the little poison Uccio is spreading with his words gets to Vale, it digs its way to his brain, to his heart.

Marc truly helped Lorenzo win because of a more intricate and complicated relationship between the two.

Marc. Marc wasn’t suffering because of him. He didn’t play a part in it.

He knows because he was shown evidence.

Like the telemetry. Yes. The telemetry it - it was clear from there.

Marc is not his. Marc can suffer on his own.

Because it’s not his fault after all, if Lorenzo doesn’t love him back.

#alice writes #my fic <3 #rosquez #angst no comfort #tw throwing up #motogp rpf #motogp fic #so basically Uccio has been decided as a villain #but Vale is not to be stripped from responsibilities #Marc is a kid #and stupid #Roser is a mother after all #she can't force her baby to do something he doesn't have the heart to do.#I hoope you have fun with this (you won't)#(it's a “turning point” part so it's not the best one)

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viridianevergarden · 6 months

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Reading comprehension and critical thinking has really gone out the window hasn’t it? At least in a portion of the fandom.

People are forever stuck under the presumption that Az feels pure lust for Elain and nothing more. That lust suddenly doesn’t go hand in hand with love? That Az is mentally fucked up and should get therapy yet no one else in the IC should? That Az is wrong for naturally shifting his feelings of love from one person to another? That he’s wrong because he didn’t “take a break”? That because of these, Az doesn’t deserve to have love and to love in general?

People are also forever stuck under the presumption that these characters are oh so evil and shouldn’t deserve love at the same time? Take Rhys for a popular example. (When it’s a book series about the ‘villain’ getting the girl. The math isn’t mathing. He’s not even a real, true villain).

No character in ACOTAR is meant to be a saint, I thought everyone knew that. (Oh my god! Morally grey characters when they do morally grey things, shocking😧)

I find most Azriel antis are literally just people who can’t put two and two together. Or just don’t like him for whatever reason they may have. (Everyone has their opinions, yes). But my god, the shallow interpretation and failure to understand his character annoys me ngl. He’s a complex character but he’s not a damn mathematical equation. (He is complex yet linear.)

“He only thought about sex in the bonus chapter.”

As if Elain also wasn’t aroused too? And gave him permission? (Omg, mutual consent! Blasphemy!)

But also the fact that they disregard Az’s noticeable and careful attention to Elain that he has shown throughout the entire series? They disregard purposefully romanticized moments?

“What happened with Elain?”

“What about Elain?”

“I’m getting her back.”

“I can imagine.”

“Would you like me to show you the garden?”

“There is an innate darkness to the Dread Trove that Elain should not be exposed to.”

“This is Truth-teller.”

Shadows gathered around the room like snakes preparing to strike.

“Sit. I’ll take care of it.”

“Wait until everyone is seated before eating.”

“We need to get these chains off her.”

Azriel stood in the doorway, monitoring [Elain]…

“She doesn’t need anything.”

“The Cauldron made you a Seer.”

“Happy Solstice.”

Staying up with her til 3 am, talking about her gardening plans.

The kiss on the cheek.

“Beautiful.”

Countless times of him gently carrying her around.

Him constantly looking out at her garden.

Him spending actual effort to get her a thoughtful gift for solstice.

Facing death itself to get her back immediately by himself.

A laugh so deep and joyous.

Looking at that headache powder every night for over a year without ever using it.

The absence of his shadows in her presence.

“His secret to tell, never hers.”

Need I go on? Azriel is always hyper focused on Elain. Always. If it weren’t for him, Elain would probably be dead or in more trouble than she ever would have been before.

If all Azriel cared about was slipping under Elain’s dress, why did he attend to her so? Why is he hyper aware of her? Why is he so assertive with her needs over anyone else? Even over Nesta? Why would he feel the need to defend her against Nesta, her own sister, if it called for it? Why does he respect her and Lucien’s boundary by refusing to have eyes on Lucien for the sake of their privacy? Why was he the only one to show initiative over anyone else to get Elain back to safety now rather than later, by himself, even if it meant certain death?

But yeah, all he wants is her body. Right? Yeah, that makes sense…

I’m just saying. No main SJM character would ever go through so much effort just to bed another character. Thats not SJM’s style nor is it logical in the slightest.

But oh yes, he feels entitled to her and her body…

…Entitled?

Wrong E word.

Envy ≠ Entitlement.

Feeling Envious of the love that his brothers have? Of the bonds they have with the other sisters? Yet he’s the only one left all by his lonesome? He feels left out. Third wheeled. And rationally so. He’s happy for his brothers but envious all the same. (As if Cassian didn’t feel the same but no one said shit about him did they?)

I’ve said this in another post too but he is NOT looking at Elain and going “she should be mine.”

He doesn’t even think he deserves her for freaks sake.

Rhys doesn’t really know Azriel. Cassian doesn’t really know Azriel. No one truly knows Azriel. The only one who has truly understood some semblance of Azriel is Elain. Even when his heart and feelings are so incredibly gated off from everyone.

So that word —entitlement— that people keep throwing around from Rhys’ lips is completely misguided.

The sheer mischaracterization makes me see red 💀

But back to the point, with obvious and mutual romantic feelings, being horny is normal. (This is also an adult romantasy series, shocking that there’s sexual content).

I’ll die on that hill for Az and Elain.

I don’t get how it can be this hard, but maybe it’s just me.

#acotar #elriel #I apologize for this rant post #pro azriel #pro elriel #It really shouldn’t be this difficult #it’s not rocket science #i thought it was obvious #what if the cauldron was wrong #Azriel is quite a linear character actually

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juneatmidnight · 6 months

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the ignored relevance of chapter 66 (and ‘filler chapters’ as a whole) in the Kuroshitsuji anime adaptation

It’s not the first time ‘filler chapters’ are ignored by the anime adaptations, and it was never a good idea to do so in the first place.

With ‘filler chapters’ I mean chapters who are not part of arcs per se, but tend to separate the newly concluded arc with the subsequent. While these chapters are more slice-of-life-ish and comic relieves for readers after the heaviness of the main plot, and while their exclusion does not alter the plot that much, they still are important, since they give us the opportunity to get deeper into the character’s feelings, personality and psychology.

The first one to receive such treatment was chapter 14.

In chapter 14 not only we get to meet one of the most important secondary characters of the series, Francis, but we also get to know our co-protagonist even more. O!Ciel, who was mostly passive and sort of a damsel in distress in the previous chapters, brings out his competitiveness and acts with bravery protecting Lizzie without hesitation. Also, we get to know that O!Ciel is very much loved by the people surrounding him : he’s not a child left all alone, but a nephew loved by his family and a master loved by his servants.

The most recent exlusion was the one of chapter 66 by season 4 : even though most of the chapter is just a silly and fun Easter egg hunt, it’s very important especially for one thing : Lizzie suspecting of Ciel.

One of the most mind blowing things about the ‘twin revelation’, was the fact that it was not even in slightest random. The evidence were all over the place in the tiniest of details, the responsability to actually notice them was ours and ours only. In chapter 66 we discover that Lizzie is not so sure about O!Ciel’s identity because things simply don’t add up : the fact he got a cold so easily and quickly while on the Campania and most importantly, the fact that he lied about remembering something that actually never happened. This chapter is one of the most important clues, and pretending it doesn’t exist will just make the twin revelation (if the anime adaptations will go on until that point) random when it actually never was.

That said, I do understand that this may not be proper material for a first episode, maybe it could have been too confusing for anime-onlys or for people who will get to discover this series for the first time.

Still, I really hope they’ll at least make this an OVA, maybe using it as a way to separate the series (since, from what I’ve understood, season 4 will air in two parts). Not only it’s important for the later revelation, but it’s also a funny warm chapter that I personally enjoy very much.

Thank you for reading ♡

#kuroshitsuji #black butler #kuroshitsuji season 4 #black butler season 4 #kuroshitsuji manga #juneatmidnight_complains

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felony-bunny · 1 year

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Malleus x non-gendered reader

Scenario: Malleus doesn’t understand how mc doesn’t fear him. He doesn’t know if they’re brave, dumb, or not afraid of death. Spoiler they’re all of the above.

Btw I’m on chapter 6 and have no clue what happens in the next chapter.

LETs GET INTO THIS MOFO

(I wrote this all forever ago but I thought that I could add more to make it better but I was wrong. For some reason this was so fucking difficult. This isn’t the first time I’ve done a oneshot too. I literally do not think that I could write anymore twst oneshots because of how bad this came out. I’m literally so sorry. You can read if you want but I hate this so so much. And also sorry for the wait.)

Most people feared Malleus’s strength. That’s what he was used too. He usually didn’t focus on people enough to care but you were different. He could understand how you weren’t scared before you know how he was but even after you found out you still called him by that silly nickname and acted the same towards him. Every once and awhile he tries to think of a reason for this.

1.) You are actually really stupid

2.) You’re some sort of narcissist and think you two are on the same level

3.) You have short term memory loss

4.) You’re stupidly brave

5.) You do not fear death

He crossed out 2 and 3 after hanging around you for a bit. But even after all the times you two have hung out he still hasn’t been able to understand how you work. One day his curiosity took over and he asked you outright.

“Child of Man?”

“Yea yea?” You absent mindedly replied as you balanced on some old bricks.

“Why don’t you seem to fear me? You have many reasons to be.”

Well standing on one wobbly brick you looked up at him “Why should I? It’s not like you’ve hurt or threatened me.”

Do you not realize how much of a threat he can be?

“Still…“

“Still what? Listen I get you’re pretty overpowered, like everyone wastes money on pulls for you in Gacha games kind of overpowered.”

Huh?

“But you’ve been nice to me and that’s all I really need to trust you.”

He didn’t like the next words that came out of his mouth but he needed to know

“Child of man, I could easily kill you. Do you know how much of a danger I could be to you if I chose to?”

You both stand there for a minute.

Did he mess up?

Did he bring up something you haven’t thought of and now you were scared?

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“I mean if you ever did kill me it would suck but whatever.” You look down at the brick wobbling.

Did you just say whatever at the possibility of being fatally injured?

“Why don’t you value your own life?”

“Is that really a question? What about my life actually has value? I mean it’s not guaranteed that I’ll go back home or that I’ll be able to start a new life here and if I do go back let’s say three years later I’d have to go back to school and waste a shit load of time and money on it. Honestly there are millions of things that could go wrong. It’s pretty difficult just existing here and not knowing what’s going on at home but whatever.” You jump off the brick and continue walking “At the end I just have to believe that things will string together and I don’t have to worry.” You spin around to face him and smile.

You say the weirdest things but still enchant him every time. Your a brave idiot who doesn’t care about how badly things could end and just put it up to luck, but that made him love you.

He smiled “I see. My apologies that was a foolish question on my part.”

#twisted wonderland #disney twst #twst incorrect quotes #twst #twst wonderland #twst headcanons #twst mc #twst yuu #twisted wonderland x reader #twst malleus #twisted wonderland malleus

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its-in-the-woods · 3 months

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Coyote Head - Part 5 - Livestock Is Deadstock

master list

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

Pairing: Cooper Howard x Lucy Maclean

Includes many other characters from Fallout

Synopsis: Calf check doesn't go as planned. But brings out two main characters closer.

MINOR GET OUT. Rating/Warning: Animal/people death, Stillb0rn animal, Horror, blOod/G0re, nightmares, Alternative Universe, Slow Burn, Death, Aging, Family Feuding, Eventually (I swear to the universe it will happen): Older Man/Younger Woman

Note: that I will not be spoiling any of the reading. So you have been warned. I will keep my tags relevant without spoiling what is happening in the story.

** Thank you for your patience! I basically rewrote this entire chapter about 4 times before the characters were happy with it. Little under 4k words. Enjoy*

Flag in hand, Lucy watches the Mama cow as her little munchkin makes a fuss. The thing is squirming, mooing, and rolling trying to get anywhere but where he was. Cooper works quickly, tagging, vaccinating, and wash of minerals. Then go as fast as possible before Mama charges.

“You're a’right Mama, you won’t be mad at me in a few months,” Cooper chuckles, as they speed away in the side-by-side.

“Forgot how testy they could be” Lucy smiles, scanning the horizon for any signs of fresh calves.

“Don’t tell anyone, but I like it when they are a little wild,” Cooper’s face lighting up with a big smile at the comment. Lucy feels her heart jump as she smiles back at him, noting that down for later.

“Makes them good Mamas, especially with all the coyotes around,” Lucy adds, pointing towards a mama calf standing near a bundle. “I think there is one there.”

Cooper adjusts his direction with a gentle turn of the wheel. His eyebrows furrow as he aims towards the Mama cow; surprised when she doesn’t move as they come close. Lucy’s stomach clenching as dread washes through her. The cow stood squared up to them, her eyes looking down at the ground where the calf lay, something was wrong.

“Com’on sweety,” Cooper says to the heifer, as he carefully gets out of the ATV, “Let us take a look -”

Lucy gasps, as she looks at what should be a calf. Instead of an alive calf, there is what looks to be a mummified body on the ground. The cow was standing there looking at both of them, tail flicking but not moving. Lucy puts the flag down, walking to squat down on the other side of the poor thing. The body was a dark ochre color, the entire thing looking like it had been vacuum sealed in plastic. No eyes, or ears, just hollowness, legs tucked in head tucked down. If it had not been so shrunk it would almost look like it was alive.

“Oh dang,” Cooper sighs, bending down to look at the mummy. “I am sorry girl,” Cooper raises his hand, Lucy watching carefully as the cow comes over and bumps his hand. His forehead furrowed as he rubbed her nose gently, looking back at what should have been a alive calf.

“Lucy write down her tag number, we will get Woody out to check’er. Once we’re done we’ll mov’er up to the barn. Make sure there is nothin’ left in ‘er.” Cooper says quietly rubbing the cow's nose and face, the cow leaning into the comforting hands of its owner. “You did good Mama, sometimes it happens.”

Lucy did as she was told, grabbing the notebook to write down the cow's ID number. As she watches Cooper comfort the animal. Most cows were protective of their offspring, but this one seemed to understand what was going on. Or maybe it just knew Cooper was trying to help, the thing leaning its head into his chest.

“We’ll move it, into the back of the ATV. Can’t leave it out’er, don’t need to draw any more predators.” Cooper said quietly, moving away from the heifer slowly.

The two of them work as quickly as possible to move the poor creature. Mama snorted and stomped a few times, Cooper letting her smell it before they put it into the box of the ATV. Lucy watches the cow for a moment as they drove away. The bovine's long bellows made her heartache, if cows could cry it would have.

“Do you think they understand?” Lucy asks, wiping her tears away. Grandpa Tim had always said the cows knew more than they’d ever know. She hadn’t been sure at the time, preferring to deal with more facts than fiction, but watching the cow made her wonder.

Cooper shrugged, hazel eyes shining as he dug in his pockets for a smoke. Lucy grabs the lighter from the cup holder, handing it to him. Wondering if she should ask for one herself, deciding against it at the last second.

“Think they understand as much as any animal.” Cooper breathes out a puff of smoke. “I like to let’em see the body, make sure they smell it, keep’em calmer. At least with my herd, unless we’re tryin’ to graft. Then gettin’ the grafter there ASAP takes priority.”

Lucy nods, a sadness pitting in her stomach as they drive over to the next calf. Thankfully on their feet and running as they drove close, Mama whale-eyeing them as they approached.

***

Lucy stayed and helped Cooper move the cow over to the main barn. The barn wasn’t anything fancy, with a few stalls for anyone sick and, a cow shoot to help make handling anyone easier. Cows spent the majority of their life in the field, or forests. They got health checks, hooves checked, moved, and sorted into different fields. It kept them happy and healthy. Nothing was perfect but this was the way it had been done for many many years. A practiced ritual, at the end of the day, the cows always came first.

Woody was surprisingly close to their area when Cooper called. The big man drove a white cargo van covered with hand-painted animals on all sides. The vehicle was fully loaded with anything he might need. He was one of the few large animal vets in the area, and getting him over quickly was a rare surprise.

The man had a riot of dark brown curly hair, a big smile, and a shaggy beard. He was almost always in some kinda overalls. At the moment they were purple with embroidered cows. He was looking at the calf, blue gloves moving it this way and that. Woody frowned, glasses perched on the end of his nose. The body was stiff, more like a rock than a body, it was also surprisingly light. How the cow had birthed it without difficulty was shocking.

“Well, it’s not common. But not the first one I’ve seen.” Woody sighs, removing his gloves and washing his hands in the sink by the side door. “The cow in the shoot is the one that gave birth?”

“Yah, pretty sure. She was standing over them,” Cooper swallows, and walks Woody over to the bovine, she had been put into the shoot for easier examination. The cow acted as if nothing was wrong munching on some hay. “We checked eighty percent of the herd this mornin’, rest are deeper in the bush. But no one else looked distressed.”

Woody looks her over, checking her body condition before sliding on some shoulder-length gloves. “Alright now Mama, be gentle on me. Just got make sure there is nothin’ left in’re okay.” Woody reached into the cow, Lucy standing near the head of the cow to make sure she was comfortable. Hands running against the creature's big head, scratching behind her ears as Woody

“Well, everythin’ feels fine. I am going to take some tissue samples, do bloods too. Make sure there is no infection or anythin’ else that might of cause this. She had twins last year right?”

Woody asked, as he degloves and went over to his vet kit. The man had always had a knack for remembering the ID tags of a herd.

“I’d have to check the record book, but I believe you’re right, yes. Two heifers, both healthy. “

Cooper replies, as Woody draws blood and takes what he needs.

“I will give her a few shots, keep her separate until the tests come back.” Woody said, “Just to be on the safe side. Once we know she’s safe we can put her back into breeding rotation.”

Cooper nodded, “Well thank you for comin' out so quickly Woody, I know you're a busy man.”

Woody smiled, “Not a problem, Coop, if anything else pops up let me know.”

***

The drive into town was mostly peaceful, Lucy trying to avoid the thought of going home. The place felt less and less like home, maybe it was the lack of Grandpa Tim or constant nightmares. Gripping the steering wheel she turns down the main street of town; willing those thoughts away as she heads to the piece-together building that was the hardware store. She had already dropped off the paperwork at the new accountant, the woman seemed excited about the piles of neatly organized boxes. Lucy couldn’t have been more grateful to hand it to someone else. If the rest of the plan fell into place Lucy would have the holes repaired and a fresh coat of paint put on by the end of the week.

Three sheets of drywall are strapped into the back of the truck, along with a few pieces of lumber. Screws, putty, paint, along with a texturing brush, and various other bits and bobs go into the back seat. Lucy felt somewhat confident she could handle the task at hand. Her hands itched to call Cooper, double-check that she had all the things she needed. Her mind ran back over this morning, the way Cooper’s face had fallen seeing the dead calf. Cattle ranching was hard on the best days, livestock meant deadstock, but that didn’t mean it hurt any less. No, she’d let him be like he didn’t have enough on his plate.

“Hey, Lucy!” Lucy turns out of her daydreams, to see a tall lanking person with a buzzed head walking towards her.

Lucy squints, realizing it was her friend Dane from high school. “Holy smoke, Dane! Is that really you!”

Lucy trots over to her friend giving them a big hug. They squeezed her back before letting go to look Lucy over.

“Jeez, Lucy. You look the same as when you graduated!” Dane smiles, leaning against the side of Lucy’s truck. “I haven’t seen you in forever. I heard about Tim, really sorry ‘bout that.”

Looking away Lucy composed herself, still strange to hear people give condolences. “Yeah, cancer came in fast and hard. Just happy it’s over you know. Don’t think I look quite the same, but thank you, look at you all grown up.”

Dane rubs the back of their buzzed head, a blush staining their cheeks. “You’re too kind Lucy. Still adjusting to everything. Dad has been good, Mom- still getting used to it, but I am happy.”

Lucy grinned, “Good, don’t let anyone hold you back. You stayin’ in town now?

“Oh, uh-no, just making some extra money before I start working as a heavy-duty mechanic in the fall.” They said beaming with pride.

“No dang way! That’s great to hear.” Lucy smiles back, happy to hear her friend was doing well,

“We should go for coffee sometime, or maybe get some food. Be good to catch up.”

“Yes, definitely.” Dane nods eagerly, “I actually if you got any tractors you need to be worked on. I'd be happy to take a look at them.”

“Really?” Lucy said, remembering that she had been neglecting to phone the tractor dealership.“I actually got two, think late eighties, haven’t been used in probably three or four years.”

“Oh, I would love that! Always loved old equipment. Why don’t I come by this Saturday? Hazard a guess you are staying at your Grandpa’s place.” Dane replies a sparkle in their eye at the idea of getting to work on the farm equipment.

“Yep, I am there! Got the same number too. Give me a ring before you stop by.” Lucy said, more than happy to have an old friend drop by. It would be good to have company, plus she could get her tractors up and running.

“I will see you then, Lucy,” Dane said as they walked away, Lucy hopping into her truck before taking off herself. Happy to know a friend would be dropping by that weekend.

***

Lucy sits on the edge of the kitchen counter looking at the drywall she’d managed to get in. It wasn’t the greatest job but with a little mud and paint it would look good as new. Well, Lucy hoped it would. She took a pull of her beer, desperately wishing she had picked out some crappy Chinese food before coming home.

Her hands taps at the counter, her arms were too sore to keep going right now. Tomorrow she’d hopefully get the mudding done, her hand dug into her pocket and pulling out her phone.

Opening it up, she clicks on the messaging icon opening up a text thread with Cooper. Just as quickly closing it, placing the phone on the counter.

“No, we are not gonna bother the man,” Lucy hums, slipping off the counter and going into the laundry room and opening up the big chest freezer. Rifling around she found some ground beef and frozen mixed vegetables, it would pass as dinner.

Sitting on the couch she flicked on the TV, scrolling through the different apps to find something to watch. Somehow there never seemed to be anything of interest, instead, she flicked over to some Lost, a guilty pleasure. Did the ending satisfy? No, not at all. Lucy preferred to imagine something different. Maybe something happier, or less flippant.

Her phone buzzed beside her plate of food, Cooper Howard, popped up across her screen. She put her fork down and flipped it open, swallowing as she hit the message icon, a small grin pulling at her lips.

Cooper: Hey, thought you should know the Mama from this morning is doing good :)

Lucy smiles, was she smiling more since meeting Cooper? Shaking her head, she was happy to know the cow was doing okay. Having a stillborn mummified calf could mean that something was seriously wrong inside. Or it could mean nothing at all, that was the tricky part about livestock.

Lucy: Hey, thanks for keeping me posted, hope she continues to do well.

Cooper: Did you end up getting the drywall?

Lucy waits for a moment before replying: Yeah, got most of the holes filled in

She winces at the framing of the words but tries not to overthink it. Wasn't like there were many other ways to describe what she was doing.

Copper: Want to do a calf check in the morning? I will come help with the mudding.

Lucy smiles, she was not going to turn down the offer of having Cooper over: Deal. What time tomorrow?

Cooper: 6 am, I can pick you up

Lucy felt her cheeks redden at the message, she typed out: Why don’t you come over tonight- Then promptly deleted it, her hand coming up to cover her face. What was she thinking? No that would not do, like the man needs more on his plate.

Instead, she wrote: Sounds good, I will see you then.

Turning back to her food, Lucy tried not to let her mind run too much. Cooper was sweet, kind, caring, and goddamn gorgeous. She worried at her lip, remembering the way the cow had booped Cooper’s hand. How he’d comfort her, the man was something else.

She rubs at her face, having missed most of the episode she was on. Sleep was on the menu, it was already well past ten, and five am would be coming like a freight train.

Looking over at her room Lucy feels a shiver run up her spine. Shaking her head, Lucy went over grabbing a blanket, pillow, and her charging cable. Keeping the kitchen light on, she left Lost playing as she curls up under the blanket. She’d work on sleeping in her room later.

***

The alarm went off loud enough that Lucy fell off the couch, confused as to where the hell she was. Blinking a few times, remembering that she had crashed on the couch. Groaning, she grabbed her phone, turning off the alarm, wanting nothing more than to curl back up under the blanket. Instead, Lucy pushed herself up onto her feet. The coffee pot switched on, she made her way to the bedroom. Stopping at the entryway, her body refused to go any further, the hair on the back of her neck standing on end.

Lucy pushes her hand in and turns on the light, eyes blinking at the bright space. No shadows moved, nothing peered out from behind the closet door. Yet she still couldn’t move. Turning her head she looks out the door, her mouth falling open in a silent scream.

Outside the door, across the deck, in the shadow of the forest were two glowing orange eyes. Standing roughly seven feet off the ground, the eyes stare back at her unblinking. Lucy was scrambling backward trying to get away as she trips and falls over the laundry basket crashing onto the floor with a loud bang. Her screaming rang in her ears as she lay splayed out on the floor. Lucy’s chest heaving, her eyes squeezed closed as she tries to will the image away. Shaking on the floor, Lucy pushes the laundry basket away to look at the patio door. Whatever had been there was gone, no eyes, no creature, nothing.

“What is going on?” Lucy shutters, staring out the door for another minute. “Okey dokey,” She let out a few breaths focusing on lowering her heart rate. “Time to get dressed, Lucy.”

Dressed in leggings and a big shirt, she finds her overalls and slips them on with a big sweater. Filling her biggest to-go coffee cup, she takes several sips of coffee finally feeling somewhat more alive. Trying to convince herself that the orange floating eyeballs from this morning were sleep delusions. Or something other than a creature staring into her house from the forest.

A knock on her door cleared her mind, she threw a few bits and pieces into a bag. Snagging her coffee and keys she opens the door to see Cooper standing there. He has a tan leather jacket on, a white cowboy hat, and perfectly fitted jeans. His face breaks into a crooked grin when he sees Lucy in the doorway. Her face goes flush as he looks her over the same way she just had.

“Good mornin’ Miss MacLean.” Cooper drawls, his tongue darting out over his lips, making Lucy feel warm all over. She could get used to him looking at her like that.

Lucy swallows, “Morning, Mr.Howard. Ready to be on our way.” Happy that her voice didn’t break as she moved through the doorway, locking it behind her.

Cooper held out his arm, Lucy doing her best not to trip over her own feet, as she took his arm. The two walking down to his truck, it was still running and warm inside against the cool spring air. He opened the door for her, and she hopped in.

***

The calf check was thankfully uneventful, Cooper driving the two of you back to his family farm. His mom, Dorthoy, asked Cooper to bring her over for breakfast. The home was country chic in every way, two-story, white, with a large vaulted front window facing west.

A deck wrapped from the front door around the back, and the yard was filled with Dorothy's plants. Still dormant now, but come spring the whole place would be filled with flowers. Coop pulls up beside the other vehicles on the dirt road, just outside the separate garage.

Janey came running outside, in pjs and gumboots, shouting excitedly for her Dad. Lucy smiles as Cooper scoops up his daughter and swings her around in his arms.

“Eeee” The little girl giggled, Mathias poking his head out the door and watching the two.

“Hey Mathias,” Lucy smiled at the older boy, he frowned but walked out, socked feet not going further than the front mat.

“Hey buddy,” Cooper smiled, ruffling his brown hair. His frown deepened as Lucy came into the front door.

Lucy toed off her boots, thankful her overalls were mostly clean. She placed her bag by the door before following Cooper deeper into the house. The smell of bacon and coffee made her stomach growl.

“Are you having breakfast here?” Mathias questioned, standing in the dining room. Hands on his hips, looking at Lucy with narrowed eyes she moved into the kitchen.

“Mathias, don’t be rude,” Came the chipper voice of Dorothy, she was a stocky woman, with perfectly pined grey hair. Her face marked by the sun with crow's feet and smile lines, she could have easily played Mrs. Clause.

“Good morning, Mrs. Howard,” Lucy beams, as she helps grab cups and plates for the table. Setting them out as Janey grabbed forks and knives for each seat.

“Lucy, please call me Dot,” Dorothy smiled, filling each cup with coffee. “We’re all family here,”

Lucy and Cooper finished setting the table, bacon, eggs, and toast piled onto dishes in the center of the table. Richard Howard came in slowly, leaning heavily on his cane. The man had once stood at the same height as his son, now was stooped over with pain as he came to sit at the head of the table. Lucy felt her heart clench, an all too familiar sight before her. A flashback of Tim, the man who had once ducked through doorways stooped over as he shuffled from his bed to the bathroom. She swallows but does her best not to stare, helping Janey get seated instead.

“Good to see you, Lucy,” Richard said with a small smile, wincing as he shifted in his chair. “Thank you, for helping Cooper.”

“Not a problem, Mr. Howard.” Lucy says as she helps Mathias scoop food onto his plate. He was still glaring at her, but she let it go. Kids would be kids. It wasn’t like she didn’t understand what it was like to lose a parent.

***

Lucy waves at the kids as they load onto the bus, Mathias waves back with a small smile. Janey had clung onto her Dad, practically having to be peeled off the man to get her onto the bus. They both climbed back into the truck as the bus left.

“Sorry about Matt,” Cooper added as they drove to Lucy’s place. “He has had a rough go, gets uncomfortable with new folks.”

Lucy shrugged, “It’s okay, little guy has been through a lot. I was similar at his age.”

Cooper nods as they turn down Lucy’s driveway, “I try to do my best with him, but he knows his Granddad is dying.” He swallows as he parks the truck, “Little guy can only handle so much.”

Lucy reaches over squeezing Cooper's arms, “You’re a good Dad, Cooper Howard.”

Cooper swallows looking out the windshield, his knuckles going white as he grips the steering wheel. "I feel like I am drowning most days. Hated having to move them so far." He rubs his jaw, "But we couldn't stay either."

Lucy keeps her hand on his arm, listening to him patiently. His shoulders were drawn tight like he was carrying the weight of the world.

"I am sorry," He murmurs, "We should - ah - go in."

"What if we help each other?" Lucy says, her mouth running before her brain can catch up. "I know, you have so much going on. With the farm, being a Dad, your own Dad. Plus you throw me into the mix with all my wack-a-do problems. Doesn't make it easy." She stops, trying to find out where this train of thought is heading. "But, umm, maybe between the two of us, we could make things work. Two heads is always better than one, and we work well together."

Cooper watching her with an unreadable expression on his face. Lucy felt her stomach twist, wondering if she may have gone too far.

"If that's something you might like to do?" Lucy looks away, moving her hand away to get out of the car before more words spill out of her mouth.

"Lucy," Cooper says, his voice so soft it's almost a whisper. "I would like that. Be nice to have someone who gets it."

SIX

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Tag list: @toogaytofunctiondangit

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