#but look at how far they’ve come! even without their parent…

[physalian]

Character Types: The “Fixer”

Oh look it’s another chance to bring exposure to casual traumas in real people thinly disguised as writing advice heyyyyy

The “Fixer” is the character who puts everyone else before themselves, but isn’t quite so self-destructive as the jaded loner—this person’s whole schtick is that everyone else’s needs and emotions come first, which will usually end up with them behaving and appearing very extroverted, fun, and kind.

They have no idea they’re doing it, either, and see nothing wrong with their behavior or what logic there is in saving a little slice of the pie for themselves. They’re not self-loathers or angsty abusers and if there are parts of themselves that they don’t like, they probably think of these aspects as “what can you do? Oh well” with zero motivation to exercise their demons, because they don't see them as demons but something they deserve to suffer with.

Or, they know exactly what they’re doing and cannot see the merit at all in themselves deserving a piece of the pie, as if they’re inherently lesser than everyone around them for Reasons they cannot articulate, Reasons that, if their friends or loved ones share the exact same traits, they’d bend over backwards and make excuses for. They have normalized their existence that there’s nothing left to angst over. “I am lesser” is just. A statement of fact.

These characters come in several flavors:

The parental figure (possibly single) or “mature” one in the family who’s always prepared, always has the big backpack with bandaids and wet-naps, probably the first to say “we’re family, all’s forgiven” in effort to keep the peace.  They’re the person who literally eats last or not at all, even when conserving food isn’t necessary, usually with the smallest, now-cold serving. Also can be the parentified sibling.

The person in a romantic relationship doing a whole lot more giving than receiving, whether it’s physically or emotionally, insisting that they’re fine, that their partner need not go out of their way to do XYZ for them, but is incredibly in tune with anything and everything that their partner might need. They’re likely to be in an abusive relationship, either emotionally or physically, or both, because a sensible partner who loves Fixer as much as the Fixer loves them wouldn’t let Fixer get away with an unfair share of back-breaking emotional labor. The abuser takes full advantage of it and laughs when they’re not looking.

The “mom” of the hero team/friend group, similar to the actual parental figure, but in this dynamic, everyone’s about the same age. The Fixer probably isn’t the leader, but second or third in command, as they don’t think themselves capable of making the Big Decisions and prefer running support. They take the most cramped bedroom, the most undesirable odd jobs, and do far more than their share of the chores and other tasks, probably without the rest of the group realizing it until something happens to them. No one asks this of them, they automatically assume this is their burden and don’t even think to suggest equal shares.

Alternate case:

They’re the “leader” because no one else wants to do the job, pretending to be way less stressed than they are and habitually protecting their team from the worst of it with little white lies, to the point where no one has any idea how much they’re suffering in silence until they eventually break. As opposed to a properly communicative leader who regularly delegates important tasks and is very transparent in all their decisions. They might also be the leader because they don’t think anyone else in their team could perform as well under pressure, pressure they’ve been under their whole life.

I actually wrote two of these, the Original, and then the Original Who Went to Therapy, between two different WIPs.

Original was the second in command of a plucky space crew in the sci-fi WIP I always mention, who was very versatile and OP and thus took it upon himself to take the lion’s share of the work around the ship because he could do it quickly and delegating the tasks to the rest of the crew was, to him, objectively pointless. He was also an empath with an ability he couldn’t turn off, literally stuck doing the emotional labor far and above normal human conditions.

He was a firm believer in “if I can, I must” and repeatedly put himself in dangerous situations because he’s the only one who could escape them alive, and to not act would be selfish, and above all else, he feared looking selfish. This all came to a head when Magical Shenanigans ensued and his own powers turned against him, stressing him to the point of his body going “we are taking a Break” and he got bedridden until he learned how to talk about his feelings and let people in.

While he was sick, him Not Being There for when the rest of the plot carried on without him meant that  his team very badly felt his absence because he did so much without them realizing it, and they did not handle it well, picking a different character to shovel all the labor onto, until they too overstrained themselves, and an intervention was necessary.

He was the friendliest character of the team to their newest member, their only cheerleader when the whole rest of his team was skeptical. He was also quite desperate for validation and approval, to the point where he made a bunch of little white lies that quickly caught up with him, pretending to be something he’s not so people would like him.

—

When I ripped the above character out of that WIP and tossed him and another character into Eternal Night, he got an upgrade and a whole bunch of therapy.

Enter Dorian. The main difference between these two is that Dorian can actually stand up for himself and establish boundaries, and got a friend/girlfriend who went “I can fix him” and actually did. He’s still very much a Fixer with a Martyr complex, a vampire who only turned to make sure the people he was stuck with held up their end of a deal and did not expect to keep living after the deal was done…for about three hundred and fifty more years.

This is a character who was a parentified Fixer, sixteen years older than his oopsie little sibling, and did not handle it well when they were separated. He’s very obvious to everyone who knows him, especially when those people have known him for centuries, and know “yeah give that one a little kid to protect and he will predictably fall on his own stake”.

One of his love interests (he’s poly), the “I can fix him” girlfriend, is not at all afraid to call him out on his martyr bullshit, or when he’s bending over backwards trying to save people who don’t want to be saved, or risking his own sanity, health, and reputation for people who insist they don’t want his help.

I specifically designed and introduced Kymiria to look and act like a stereotypically jealous mean girl who doesn’t want to share her man with the protagonist. Except. She’s right. About everything. She knows Dorian extremely well and got him through some awful shit and isn’t about to stand by and watch him break himself again for someone who she thinks doesn’t deserve him (and she’s also right on that point). How she goes about protecting him is totally different.

But for the mortals who live with his coven, he’s the most popular vampire around and the favorite by all the children for a country mile. No one who hasn’t been living with him for decades has any idea that there’s anything traumatic behind his smiles.

—

I like writing Fixer characters because I don’t get to see enough of them. They’re not as popular as the Angsty Sad Boy and certainly not as popular as My Trauma Excuses My Aggression Boy. People who have suffered tend to fall on either end of two extremes: Either they continue the cycle of hate and abuse or they make absolutely certain no one in their life will ever suffer what they did. I like writing and reading the latter, particularly when they're men as most “fixers” we think of emphasize “womanly” traits of kindness and nurturing.

These characters are also their own worst enemies. Their inability to treat themselves as deserving of respect and forgive themselves continuously gets them into sticky situations that they wouldn’t be in if they were just a little bit more willing to put their own needs first.

—

If you're interested in reading my take on Fixers in a bona fide novel, check out Eternal Night of the Northern Sky!

[those-aurora-spirits]

Raito, you so cute *Patting*

Raito answers:

Raito: I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you very properly. Could you repeat tha-

Raito: Oh!

Raito: Oh! My stars, thank you! I’ve never had someone call me cute before- in a long time- i-

Raito: I-

Raito: Im sorry, it was silly of me.

[maxivstappen]

THE GREATEST — TRUE BLUE

[ part one / masterlist / requests are open ]

☽｡⋆ part 2 of THE GREATEST. he tried to live without you, but how is one to survive with a broken heart? a story based on TRUE BLUE by billie eilish. — lando norris x fem!reader (could technically be read as a stand-alone)

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 angst, hurt & comfort, hints of fluff (?) 𝄞 4.1k words

❝ Lights out, you’re not here holding me ❞

Lando had never before felt the way he did the day you left him. Seeing you walk through that door, intending to never come back to him ever again, it pained him. It took him too long to realize how much he hurt you, and now he had to suffer the consequences. He swore it wasn’t on purpose, but when his friends told him that also the third girl he had brought along since you broke up with him resembled you in a way, he stopped denying. There was no use. The guys knew, the internet knew, he knew that he wasn’t yet over you. And he thinks he never will be. You left an empty place in his heart, a place that would forever be reserved for you only and you only. No matter how hard he tried to find someone else, no one would ever be able to replace you.

The girl he brought to the first race after the summer break was long forgotten already.

At first, everyone around him believed him when he said he felt happier now without you. But the moment he went back to his old ways, the heartbreaker they’ve known for so long, they realized he wasn’t. The girls always looked like you. He only rarely smiled anymore and he couldn‘t care less about his friends‘ relationships, even going as far as faking a gag or simply not coming to hang out with them at all. He said it’s because he needs to focus on racing. They knew it was because of you. Lando was yet to tell them why the relationship ended. He’d rather crash his car and DNF in every race for the rest of his life than to ever have to talk about the night you left ever again. He felt embarrassed and bad and was so terribly regretful. Only his parents knew the whole truth. He told them with tears caressing his face just like you once did, and seeing the disappointment in their eyes, he felt his heart rip apart even more. They had loved you so much, only waiting for the day he would finally go down on one knee for you, and now he messed it all up.

If he could just go back and make it all alright. Make you feel unconditionally loved wherever you went, make you happy, keep you happy. He would change it all if he just had the chance, but he knew you deserved better. Maybe one day, he could be better again.

He is ready to give up the very thing for you that had made you leave him that night if you’d ask him to. Racing would never again mean as much to him as you, though broken up, still do to him.

He was currently seated in his McLaren, waiting for the lights to go out so he could try his very best to overtake max at the start already. He should have his mind on the track. He shouldn’t think about you, not here. But like always, he couldn’t help it. He hoped to see you in the stands once he was able to get out of the car again. He hoped to see you wave and smile at him, run into his arms and let him kiss you all over, do all the things he had failed to do so many months ago. He knew it wouldn’t happen. He believed anyway. The lights went out and the cars began moving. He tried his best, he always did, but he wasn‘t afraid to lose anymore; for what was it worth to win a race when he had faced the greatest loss of them all already?

❝ I count every tear down my cheek instead of sheep ❞

You couldn’t sleep. You could never sleep while he was racing. Especially when he was on the other side of the world, which is why you went with him last season, and also at the start of this one. Maybe you never should’ve. Long distance was hard, but you managed. He felt farther away when he was still sleeping next you every night. At least when he didn’t send you off to sleep on the couch.

You tossed and turned in your sleep, but you didn’t dare to turn on the TV. It’s been months, you should try to live without him. Without seeing him. Without feeling for him. His races had nothing to do with you, neither did the outcome. And god, if he wins and you have to watch him kiss someone else again you might as well just take his racing car and drive right into the nearest wall. He’s so far away and yet, it didn’t make you love him any less. You huffed, fear slowly building up inside of you. You knew you shouldn’t do this, you had to wake up early tomorrow and really, it wouldn’t be that bad to miss a race once or twice, but you couldn’t help it. Reaching for the remote, your eyes were flooded with tears and your heart stung like never before when you saw him driving out there. You were rooting for him nonetheless. Just months ago you had watched the races from inside the McLaren hospitality, but now? All alone in your bed, anxiously following his every move. You would never fall asleep like this.

❝ Sleepwalk, find myself on your street. Three knocks, ring the bell, then I leave ❞

And there you stood high up in the stands the next weekend, head hanging low as you didn‘t want any fans of him recognizing you, back in his territory. You tried to ignore him, you really did, but your eyes kept following him around the paddock and didn’t leave him even while he was doing the quick interviews he had to do on his way there. And honestly, it kinda felt like home. Attending the races. Being near him. Being with him. You missed it more than anything else in the world, and you felt pathetic for it. He hurt you every way he could, and still, he didn’t hurt you enough to make you hate him. And you really wanted to hate him.

You went to the race together with one of your friends from uni. You bonded over formula 1 and your shared passion for the sport and quickly became very good friends. However, she had to leave soon, moving to another city for a better starting point for her career. Hence, you decided to save some money and go to a race together for the last time; for now, at least. You still remember the way she looked at you when you told her you were with Lando. The way you swooned over him to her, and the way you cried your eyes out when it all ended. You really thought you‘d be able to spend the rest of your life with him, and now all you had left of him were memories. She‘s known you long enough to immediately notice your longing after him the moment your eyes locked onto his dark brown curls. Your heart fluttered and it made you nauseous. One day this would stop, right? Your feeling must fade at least sometime, or was this all just wishful thinking? Could you not just get over him like everyone else got over their exes and start dating someone new?

Your heart ached. He was so close, not out of reach anymore, not on the other side of the world anymore, but still, there was no way of getting back to him, the crash barriers and the grandstand keeping you away, and it felt like the end of your relationship all over again, with him on the track and you sitting and waiting patiently on the sidelines, always at least an arm length distance between you two. You shouldn’t even want to get him back. You left out a sigh as he walked into the McLaren hospitality, finally out of sight. But still not out of mind.

Your friend huffed next to you, and finally decided to try and convince you to talk to him after the race while you were still in the same place, to get closure at last. You knew it must annoy your friends and maybe even your family that it was so hard for you to just move on. They put effort into understanding, but still, Lando wasn‘t good to you, at least not in the end. Many would treat you better, but you didn‘t seem to care. You quickly shook your head no, telling her how he probably didn’t want to talk to you and that catching him after the race would be nearly impossible, with bodyguards and tons and tons of interviewers and cameras around him.

The conversation ended soon after, as the lights went out and the drivers hit the gas. You pondered for a second, reconsidering your friend‘s suggestion, a weird feeling building up in your stomach. Maybe you shouldn’t even be here, maybe you should *leave* after the race and never look back. But to your dismay, every sense in your body was telling you to stay.

❝ I try to live in black and white but I’m so blue ❞

The race went well, but he didn‘t really care. Of course he was happy, the whole team was euphoric for their two drivers who secured place 2 and 4, huge smiles plastered on their faces. Once he was done with the post-race interviews he left to go back and get some rest inside his apartment, at least until the others came around to drag him to the afterparty, slandering from one club into the next one.

Everything felt so lonely without you. His bed was cold even when he was hidden under his blanket, and the dining room was nothing more than a reminder that he wasn‘t spending his evenings with you. Watching TV got boring. Everything got boring. He didn’t even know why he lost you anymore, he didn’t know what the hell it was that made him believe you weren’t made for him, making him believe there was actually something more important than you in this lifetime. You haunted his every thought, and even though he truly only wanted the best for you, deep inside him, he wanted you to still need him as well.

He stood in front of his bathroom mirror, gently buttoning up his shirt like you used to do, always leaving the 3 highest ones unbuttoned. He missed your touch, your eyes looking up at him and your hands always reaching for his. His arms would be wrapped around your waist and his head would be leaning on your shoulder, sneaking a few, small kisses up your neck as you changed your earrings for the night, the imagine of it painted onto your fast beating heart as you stood in front of the full-body mirror in your apartment, finishing up your accessoires. You wore a blue dress that covered your thighs, not reaching your knees. It hugged you in all the right places, accentuating your features. It used to be Lando‘s favourite, but you had no other alternative, not having brought any other dresses. Your friend insisted on going clubbing anyway, desperately wanting to finally get him off your mind for one night at least.

The other drivers were loud and happy and drunk and Lando sat next to them, staring at his already empty glass. He knew how this would go. At some point, either the drivers or one of their girls would tap his shoulder, saying they have a friend they think he would really like, and if he would like to be introduced to her. He would agree so they would finally keep their mouths shut, he would talk to the girl. Maybe they would kiss if he drank enough. Maybe he would take her home. Maybe he would think about you the whole time, maybe he would accidentally call her your name. Maybe he would wake up in the morning and would be happy that she‘d left, content with it only being a one-time thing and not meaning anything.

Because, in the end, nothing meant anything without you.

He pretended to laugh at the jokes of his friends, but really, none of this was fun to him. These nights were nothing more than a constant reminder of how he used to have his fun while you were waiting for him at home, cold and sad and alone. How could he be so stupid and leave you alone all the time? He doesn’t even know why he did it anymore. He yawned, very obviously not enjoying the party. Yes, it was nice seeing his friends so happy, the mood wasn’t as tense as it was around and on the track and the people inside the night club were vivid, dancing and drinking, seemingly having the time of their life downing countless beverages, but still, the happiness didn’t reach him.

“Dude, I think your girl‘s here.“ Oscar pushed him slightly, two vodka bull in hand for himself and Lily. Lando didn’t pay him any mind and rolled his eyes, not really in the mood for talking to any girl that isn’t you at the moment. Couldn’t they just give up? He wasn’t ready yet for someone else, he didn’t even know if he wanted to be with someone that isn’t you at all. Ever. Instead of arguing with Oscar about how he didn’t want to hear from any other girl right now, he went to get another drink as well.

He pushed through the dense crowd of people, navigating through the cacophony of laughter and piercing yelling that seemed to echo from all directions. The deafening loud music blasting through his ears made it difficult to focus, and the harsh sound of glass clunking together only added to it. The colorful LED lights rapidly switched from green to red to purple to yellow in a matter of seconds, creating a dizzying light show that overwhelmed his vision. This sensory onslaught of sounds, sights, and sensations overstimulated his senses, making each step forward feel like an effort.

Finally at his destination, he waited for the waiter or waitress, he wasn’t quite sure, to get his order. He wasn’t certain what his plan was that night at all. Sleeping around or not, you wouldn’t stop haunting his mind anyway, so was it really worth it? Getting drunk and trying to make his nights feel less lonesome? Or should he just wait and really focus on his carrer again until maybe, one day, you’d come back?

He ignored the possibilty of you not coming back at all.

He let his eyes wander around the scene unfolding in front of him, occasionally making eye contact with random girls who winked at him and tried to get his attention, but he didn’t pay them any mind. Frustration started to bubble up inside of him as the wait for his drink seemed to go on for forever, until suddenly, his heart skipped a beat.

Lando was certain that in a room full of people, he would always be able to notice you first. He pondered if it was you whenever he‘d walk by a girl with the same hair colour as you, immediately dismissing the thought when he saw a face that didn’t match yours just a second later. But this time, it was different. The hair ressembled yours without a doubt, and of course he remembered the dress he had bought for you so long ago; never once had he been able to keep his hands to himself when you wore it. The height matched you perfectly as well. But it couldn’t be you, right?

Oscar‘s words replayed in his mind and he finally understood what he meant. Who he meant.

It was really you.

You tried to enjoy the party, but you really weren’t doing so well. Your friend had left you near the bar, thinking you’d be hitting it off with a guy you’ve been talking to for some time, but that wasn’t the case. he left just five minutes after to go home, asking if you’d like to come with him. You denied, but your friend was nowhere to be found, having found someone in this club herself. It was scary being alone in a club full of drunk, intoxicated people, even more so when you sensed someone staring at you from behind. You didn’t have to worry about things like that when you were still with Lando, with him always stuck to your side, a protective arm hanging around your shoulders. you shuddered at the thought, and dared to turn around to find the very person who was looking at you so steadily.

And then you locked eyes.

The world suddenly went quiet. All the chaos, the noise, it all faded into the background, no sound to be heard other than the synchronised, rapid beating of your heart. It seemed as if the only two people in that room were you and him, only the void surrounding the two of you. The LEDs turned blue, engulfing you and him, the light accentuating your features and he couldn’t move even if he wanted to, stuck in a trance of what this could mean for him in the future; what this could mean for you both. Time seemed to stand still. He wanted to run to you, to hold you, to tell you how much he missed you, but his feet felt like they were glued to the floor. His breath hitched and so did yours, all the yearning, all the longing hitting you and him at lightspeed.

You walked towards him, each step filled with electricity. The tension was palpable, his mouth agape as you stood in front of him, only centimeters away from closing the gap between you. There was so much he wanted to say, so many things he wanted to apologize, so many things he wanted to make right, but he didn‘t dare to say things first, afraid too scare you off. The last thing he wanted is for you to leave him again.

“I didn‘t know you‘d be here, thought I‘d seen Oscar but I wasn‘t sure,“ you started, stumbling over your own words, laughing awkwardly, then biting your lip right after. He noticed, because you always did that when you were nervous; you’d done it too when you broke up with him. You wanted to blame it on the alcohol, but that would be a lie, one he could look right through of. You just couldn‘t process actually being in his presence again.

“You still wear the dress?“

“It‘s, uhm, quite pretty, so yeah.“ You nodded along to your own words, gulping at the tense and awkward silence right after, looking down at your shoes, the sight of him in this light still not leaving your mind. Maybe he didn‘t even feel the same way, maybe he didn‘t even want to talk to you. Maybe you already made a fool of yourself when you made your way over to him, maybe you really should‘ve just stayed at home. But at the same time, this is what you‘d hoped for this whole time. To finally see him again.

“I‘m so sorry for what I did to you, y/n, please believe me. E-Ever since you left, I couldn‘t stop thinking about you. Not once. I tried to move on, y‘know, would probably be better for you as well, ‘cause you deserve better than how I‘ve treated you at the end and I don‘t want to have to put you through that again but I just- I miss you so much, I don‘t know what to do! And now you‘re here and I swear I‘ve been waiting for a moment like this and-,“ he stopped for a second, heavy and shaky breaths filling the silence, „If giving up racing means you‘ll let me come back to you, I‘ll do it.“

Your teary eyes widened and you looked up at him again, staring into his. One could take it as an empty promise. But you knew better than anyone else that Lando wasn’t one to joke about racing, ever. “Lando you can’t just- I- I mean, racing? It didn‘t work before Lan I just- don��t give up your dreams for me, please? You shouldn‘t, you have so much ahead of you still,“ you sighed out, every single part of your body overwhelmed like never before.

But Lando was certain. He traced every yet so small feature of your face and body with his eyes, and he knew in that exact moment that, no matter what, he could never lose you again. Not this time. Not when fate hat somehow brought you together once again, giving him a second chance to make it all better. Question was now if you’d let him have that second chance too.

He lifted his hand to gently wipe away the tear running down your cheek, having you lean into his familiar touch. “I’ll do it for you”, he said, and that was when you broke apart, legs feeling numb and wobbly suddenly. Tears streamed down your face as you took another step forward and he wrapped his arms around your body out of reflex, gently placing soft kisses on top of your head, tearing up as well as your cried into his chest.

Maybe it was bad, maybe you shouldn’t feel like this again, but you’ve never once after the breakup felt as at peace with yourself and your as you did now, even if you were in a loud and busy club, surrounded by drunk and high people. You managed to push them to the back of your mind, the familiar scent of Lando’s perfume calming your senses. It felt like home. Maybe he really did owe you something, and though you once were anguished because of it, you wouldn’t ever deprive him of the joy of racing. There would be a way through it without having to abandon any of your or his dreams. There must be if you want it to work out, and you were sure that this time, it would. And so was he.

Lando took you home with him that night, not before you shot your friend a quick text message, afraid she might think you were kidnapped or whatnot. You knew that you’d have to fly home again in two days. He knew that too, but there was no need to rush things anyway. You were still his and he was still yours, and that’s all that mattered for now. It’s gonna be weird explaining this to your friends and your family, but neither of you minded it as long as it meant you could be with each other again. You would have to talk things through and see how you’d manage the race weekends and the events and the media - but not now. Now, with you calmly and lightly snoring in his arms, he didn’t care about any of that, simply content with having you again.

He promised you before you drifted off into your tranquil slumber that he will make it right this time. He will be there for you no matter what, he will defend you and take you with him and show you off and love you like already should have done all these months ago. This time, he will put in the work and the appreciation and the effort, and then, you will finally be able to be the greatest.

❝ I’d like to mean it when I say I’m over you, but that’s still not true. ❞

taglist for part 2 of the greatest : @mrs-saturday @tylerstacobell @angeltroian @acesbakery @directioner5life @malynn @escuellasceramicdollie @strangetoadroadbat @norrisdriver @aliceisnuts @carlando4 @f1fantasys @no-144444 @belivisa @callsignwidow @cruzgrecia @ifsoniacouldfly @wony6ung @hurtblossom @faeriepigeons @interlagos @xnatqq @fanficweasley @youreintheclubb @chaimaarouaine11 @idgasb @cruzgrecia @madstxo @trisharee (basically everyone who commented vv sorry if you didn’t want to be tagged!)

[sommerregenjuniluft]

@jegulus-microfic june 5th — more — 1108words — cw: reg has some pretty explicit dirty fantasies for a moment or two for @honeybcj and all the other james dad bod enjoyers out there<3

Regulus is sitting in his lifeguard chair, eyes trained on the long pool where people are swimming their laps. Nevermind he isn’t even on shift. Over the last few weeks Regulus has signed himself up for more shifts than ever, much to the surprise of their staff manager. Pandora too. They’ve stocked up on sunscreen and went shopping for new cute swimwear and then devoted their last college summer to spending every minute in the presence of piss covered ground, soggy fries and chlorine smelling air.

All for the sole purpose of making eyes at a beautiful couple and their toddler half the day. Or, not-couple, as Pandora has found out in passing, much to both their delight. The parents of little Harry are divorced, or not together anymore, but they still seem to get along well enough, regularly meeting up to come here and spend their days in the water. Lily, a gorgeous redhead with bright eyes and a sweet smile that occasionally makes Pandora squirm in her place and redden in the cheeks more fiercely than any sunburn. 

And then there’s James. Tall, dark haired, in his mid to end twenties, always grinning, tanned, insanely sexy and funny James. 

The sun is already low now and Lily and Harry have already gone home. On the days James doesn’t take the toddler home with him, he often stays a little longer to get some swimming in. Or just to take a nap on one of the chairs, molten popsicle dripping down and into the hairs on his stomach. His belly rising and falling in regular intervals, full lips parted, dark mob of hair a downright mess and the legs of his bathing shorts hiked so far up it should be forbidden.

The white fabric of it is drenched when James heaves himself out of the pool and shakes out his sopping hair.

Regulus’ eyes follow greedily as the older man picks up his towel and dries himself off. James rummages for his water bottle and then tips his head back and gulps. His throat is bobbing and he’s so overly enthusiastic with it that something dribbles out at the sides and along his neck. Regulus feels himself stir in his own swim shorts and he absently gnaws on his lower lip.

He has already perfectly well resigned himself to the fact that he will be an admirer from afar because how do you even walk up to a young dad and tell him you’d very much like to find out just how much of a daddy he is without overstepping multiple boundaries.

That is before Regulus gets pulled from his perverse thoughts of getting fucked deep into the mattress and stubble burn on his jaw and licking over a nipple circled by chest hair when suddenly said object of his fantasies is walking up to him, eyes squinting against the sun.

He comes to a stop in front of Regulus’ high stool and wraps his hand around the ladder railing next to Regulus’ leg, his shoulder muscle bunching deliciously. 

Regulus’ brain is currently projecting an Error404.

“Hi, sorry for disturbing you,” James says with a warm smile. To Regulus. The hot dad is talking to Regulus. “You can totally say No I was just thinking I should reapply,” he waves the bottle of sunscreen in his big hand, “and I need someone to get my back.”

Regulus just gawks, unable to form a coherent thought. There’s a dark mole right over James’ thick left eyebrow and Regulus wants to kiss it. His nose is a little crooked and his stubble looks so obscene from up close Regulus can’t help but imagine what it would feel like against the inside of his thigh, the crease of his ass.

James’ eyebrows raise and he frowns mildly, “You don’t have to, of course. I can ask someone else, it’s no iss—”

“No,” Regulus blurts, probably too quickly. He licks his lips. “I’ll do it,” he offers, his voice cracking embarrassingly, before clambering down his chair. Heat crawls up into Regulus’ cheeks and down his collarbones and he clears his throat.

A gust of realization flits over James’ face and then he grins, shamelessly. Regulus swallows. “Oh, so you’re the cute College kid Lily told me was ogling me.”

Regulus makes a panicked noise in the back of his throat, sputtering slightly.

“You really are pretty,” James murmurs, ducking closer. “I wear glasses usually, ’m sorta blind without them, really. It’s lovely getting to see you up close finally.”

“Oh,” Regulus nods, dumbly.

“What’s your name, love?”

“Regulus.”

James hums, repeating his name, slowly letting it roll over his tongue and Regulus shivers.

“I’m James by the way.”

Regulus nods again but he knew that already.

“So,” James cocks his head, “I was promised a slathering of sunscreen?”

And Regulus does just that. He lets James squirt the cool, milky white fluid on his hands and then begins rubbing it into tan skin. James is warm and sturdy under his fingers and when Regulus gets to his neck, adorned by a thin, golden chain, James lets his head loll to the side with a groan. Regulus has to work hard not to let his cock react to it.

When James turns around he has his lower lip trapped between his teeth and is watching Regulus with lidded eyes. There’s still some residue on Regulus’ palms and when James sees that, he takes his wrists slowly and brings his hands down over his bicep as well. 

Regulus is pretty sure he just sighed a little too loudly but he’s too transfixed to care. 

James hums once Regulus is done. “Thank you,” he says, tucking one of Regulus’ curls back. “I’ll let you get back to your shift then,” James mumbles, voice low and playful, “Wouldn’t want to distract you from saving lifes.”

“I’m not on shift,” Regulus replies, stupidly, basically exposing himself. He needs to get a grip.

A happy smile spreads over James’ face, “Well, then why don’t you come join me so I can keep looking at you without my glasses from up close?”

Regulus hesitates for a moment, dumbfounded by the amount of active flirting and compliments.

“I’ll share my fruit and you can tell me all about your courses and that blonde friend of yours that seems to have a thing for Harry’s mum,” James winks.

A small laugh tumbles out of Regulus, “Yeah, she’s ridiculously down bad for Lily.” 

“Oh, people who live in glass houses, love…” James smirks, starting for his spot next to the pool.

Regulus blushes a deep pink as he follows behind him.

[yellowbrokenblue]

„Just… Pretend.”

summary: in which harry convinces you to spend your summer in cape cod with his parents as his ‘girlfriend.’ but everything is just pretend, your not actually his girlfriend and you never have wanted to be his girlfriend, you’ve never seen him as more than harry styles, the singer… but by the end of the summer will that change?

tropes (so far) : fake dating

part one

“It’s just for one weekend.” He pleaded, “Then you can go back to hating me. You never even have to talk to me again, I don’t care.”

You sigh, your head falling backwards with a groan. You did not want to do this at all, but he’d been persistently asking you for days.

“C’mon, please?”

You roll your eyes, “You’re on a date with a new girl every week, I’m sure any of them would be up for it.”

“I can’t just take anyone to my parent’s place.”

“Why not? Or how about you just tell them you’re not seeing anyone right now? They won’t care.”

“I just need you to come, alright? I’ll owe you one, I promise.”

“Why me? There’s a million other people you could take, besides I’ve already met your parents at a show, they’ll never believe we’re seeing each other.”

“And they really liked you!”

“There’ll be a ton of other people that they like too, Harry. Choose anyone else.”

“I can’t.” He sighs.

“You can.”

“I can’t.” He repeats.

You look at him with tired eyes, awaiting his explanation. You’d been over this a hundred times, you had no interest in pretending to be his girlfriend while he visited his parents over the summer.

“I already told them we’re together.” He says quietly, avoiding eye contact.

“What?” You scoff, “You’ve gotta be joking.”

“They just… They met you at the show, and they really did seem to like you, and they kept going on and on about how they want me to find someone who makes me happy and stuff and I shut them up by saying we’re together…”

“You’re unbelievable.” You say, annoyed.!

The fact he’d been telling his parents ridiculous lies without even telling you about it, when said lies actually involved you had pissed you off.

Harry’s parents were lovely, and a producer on his latest album you’d met them a couple times at shows- Especially during the LA residence where you and his parents sat through the concerts in a VIP booth. His mum was lovely, always smiling and knew every single lyric. She told you that she was in Harry’s 0.5% of top listeners on Spotify last year.

You thought that was cute.


You couldn’t relate though, 5 Seconds of Summer were your top Spotify artist- Harry could never find out about that.

“They’ve been asking for me to take you to the beach house for months-“

“Months?!” You interrupt, “How long have you been telling them we’re together?”

He shrugged, “Since the end of the Forum residency?”

“Harry that was SIX months ago!” You yell, “I can’t pretend to be in a six month relationship with you, that’s ridiculous.”

He sits down on the couch, hugging a pillow.

“Yes you can. You practically know everything about me already. We spent every day of the tour together.”

“Everything about you in a career aspect.”

“Everything in general.” Harry corrects, “Sometimes I think you know more about me than I do.”

“I don’t. You’re just saying this because you’re convincing yourself that this ridiculous idea will actually work.”

“Name my first pet.”

“What?” You question. He was being stupid. There is no way you’d ever be able to spend two weeks with his parents over the summer, it was never going to work. It was a recipe for disaster.

“C’mon. You know the answer.”

He just kept staring at you. He wasn’t giving up. The longer you stayed silent the more intense his stare got. When he began to raise his eyebrows you’d given up.

“Max.” You mutter quietly, unimpressed with this whole game he was playing.

“And what am I allergic to?”

“Marshmallows, but you eat them anyway.”

Harry was grinning, and it was pissing you off. He was winning and he knew it.

“My favourite Christmas song?”

You rolled your eyes, “Christmas lights by Coldplay, but you tell everyone that it’s Merry Christmas Everyone because it’s a classic.”

Harry was giving you a ‘I told you so’ look. He wasn’t going to quit until you agreed to pretend to be his girlfriend.

You sigh softly, “Even if I agree to this… It could he really damaging for my career.”

“No one will find out.” His face was more serious now, and you could tell from the way he was looking at you that he meant it, “I’ll make sure of that.”

“But if if does-”

“It won’t.”

“But if it does, because there’s always a chance no matter what you think, then everyone will only think I got hired to tour manage because we’re ‘sleeping together.’” You say, using air quotes, just to further elaborate that this was all fake.

Harry had already got his grammy, he was at the peak of his career he’d be fine no matter what happened. But you were a female music producer in a male dominated industry, if people think you were only hired for this album because you’re fucking the singer- your career was over.

“If people find out I’ll kill you.”

“Does this mean you’re gonna agree?”

You nod, reluctantly.

“Thank you!” He jumps out of his chair, “I swear I’ll make it up to you, thank you so much.”

— — —

If you were in Harry’s position you’d be vigilant of everything, everyone, everywhere. You’d be paranoid of someone jumping through your bedroom window while you were asleep. But Harry was oddly calm. Maybe he was just like that. His lips were formed almost in a smile while he slept, and his eyes were moving under his eyelids- probably from a dream he was having. He wasn’t calm very often- recently he’d been very on edge and anxious about everything, it was nice to see him look so peaceful. You hoped for that sort of peace someday soon.

You had been in the studio going on six hours, and when he’d taken a break from recording so you could go over the tracks he’d managed to fall asleep in that short period of time.

You let him sleep while you packed up the equipment, putting things back into their assigned places, and didn’t bother waking him up until you were 100% ready to go.

“Harry,” You said softly, shaking his shoulder lightly, “Harry we gotta go.”

His eyes opened and he blinked a few times to adjust himself to the light.

“Huh?”

“We only had the studio booked until six, we gotta go.”

“Oh,” He sat up, stretching his arms and cracking his neck that had went into a cramp, “Sorry, don’t even remember falling asleep to be honest.”

“Don’t worry about it,” You shrug, “We got enough done today anyways. You deserve a rest.”

There were only three days left until the day Harry had said you were leaving for his parents place, and you had skipped over the subject every time he’d tried to bring it up. You didn’t really want to think about it because you were dreading it so badly.

“I’ll give you a ride home.” Harry said as you left the studio building.

“No, it’s alright.” You say, “I’ll just get an Uber.”

Harry glared at you, “Y/N, just get in the car.”

You glare back. But it had been a long day so getting a free lift wasn’t so bad.

“So.” He said, starting the car. “We gotta go over some things.”

“About the album?” You play dumb.

“… No.” He rolls his eyes, “Stop pretending you don’t know what I’m talking about.”

“I’m not pretending.”

“Love, you gotta tell me some stuff about you. My parents are gonna ask me shit and I don’t have a clue what to tell them.”

You groan. You should’ve stuck to your gut and got an Uber.

“Like what.”

He shrugs, “What’s your favourite colour?”

“Purple.” You reply.

“Mines is blue.”

“I know,” You reply.

“What’s your favourite song?” He asked.

You laughed to yourself a little.

“Jet black heart,” You grin, knowing you’d get some sort of reaction out of this answer, “By 5 Seconds of Summer.”

“5 Seconds of Summer?” Harry scoffs, “They’re punks!”

You roll their eyes, “They turned to pop music and half of them are married, they’re hardly punks.”

“You know one of them dated my sister, right?” Harry groaned.

“Yep,” You grin, “And wrote a banging tune about it as well.”

“Don’t remind me.” He muttered.

“Look, you asked me a question and I gave you an honest answer. You can’t complain.”

“I know, I know.” Harry said, “You got any exes?”

You raise your eyebrows, “What?”

“This is the kind of stuff I need to know! Like I dunno if I’m your first boyfriend and all that.”

“Harry… I’m 24 years old. You’re not my first boyfriend.”

You said it almost as if he was your boyfriend. It sent a chill down your spine. This was going to be a long few weeks.

“Good to know.” He said.

He dropped you off outside your apartment.

“I guess the next time I see you will be for when we’re leaving, yeah?”

You nod. There was no studio session booked until after his vacation to Cape Cod, where his families beach house was, so he was right. The next time you see him would be at the airport.

“Flights at seven.” He says.

“Got it.”

The next few weeks were going to be hell.

part two coming soon…

support me through ko-fi! (buy me a coffee!!)

[arlestial]

❝trick me once, trick me twice❞

synopsis : "A lie can destroy a relationship in a second", they’ve said. Isagi would be the first to agree, if he wasn’t lying to you so frequently.

pairing : Isagi Yoichi x genderneutral!reader •— Blue Lock

tw : Fluff (mentions of reader wearing a dress)

word count : ~ 3800 words

author-note : Hi !! It’s been a while I haven’t written for my favorite 🫶🏻 I came back from my vacations in Austria (it’s probably the prettiest country I have ever visited, by the way) and I’m glad to write for y’all again ! Thank you for all your likes and reblogs on my last post, I was very touched :( <3 Not proofread, I’ve been writing this while my car was getting fixed 😭 Reblogs are very appreciated !! Anyways, take care of yourselves ♡

ISAGI YOICHI’s parents had always told him not to lie. And when he was a kid, he agreed; lying was a bad thing. "It could hurt people around you," his mum said once. While growing-up, he obviously disobeyed, and lied; but he tried to stick to this old mantra of his, avoiding it at all costs. Telling the truth was far more beneficial, after all. Lying would only lead to complications, fights, and an overall loss of trust. And he didn’t want that, of course. Nobody would.

When ISAGI YOICHI and you got together, he quickly became a version of himself he feared to be, a version of himself he promised to stay away from. It was surprising how easily he was lying to you, and how trustful you were, believing everything he’d say. It was utterly frustrating — not because of you being too credulous about his words — but because he wasn’t feeling any guilt at all. Why ? Since lying turned into the most beneficial, advantageous and the quickest way to obtain what he wanted. People can’t be hurt about things they aren’t aware of, right ?

ISAGI YOICHI started his scheming with the weather. At first, he tried to convince himself it wasn’t too perverse, but he quickly realized it was. When you asked him to check the weather to see if it was hot enough outside this evening to wear a dress for your date, he replied yes without even looking. He knew it’ll be chilly when you’ll both get out of the restaurant. But he lied.

You shivered when the breeze hit the bare skin of your arms, goosebumps forming immediately after Isagi opened the door of the restaurant for you to walk out. You turned to look at him.

"It’s colder than what I expected. You said it would be hot, right ?"

Isagi approached you, a frown displayed on his features — he delicately ran his hand on your arm, feeling the soft skin under his palms.

"Yeah, I thought so too. The weather app’s forecasts were wrong, I guess."

You sighed, and at this very moment, he knew you had believed him. He smiled to himself, and took off his coat, draping you with it.

"Here. I wouldn’t want you to catch a cold, would I, baby ?"

You hummed softly, thanking him; he even got a kiss from you as a reward for his kindness. Well, now, he could see you in his clothes and in a dress at the same time, which was definitely a success. He didn’t even have to ask you to wear his stuff anymore — everything was already planned, even when you were coming over.

"I was sure I left one of my shirts in your drawer, though."

"It’s not a big deal, babe. I have plenty I can lend you."

And now he had you, in his bed, curled up against him while you were both watching a movie, wearing his shirt. What you obviously didn’t know, was that you did have a shirt in his drawer. Such a coincidence it was under all of his…

ISAGI YOICHI’s lies didn’t stop at the weather. No, now that he was assured you believed him, he could continue his shenanigans without the fear of getting caught. You are going to eat something warm ? Wait ! You shouldn’t, you could singe your tongue. Let him take the first bite first, just to make sure it’s riskless for you to eat.

"Can I taste it ?"

"You already took a bite earlier," You replied with a lifted eye-brow, perplexed by his demand.

"Yeah, but I didn’t really enjoy the taste, you know. I was too busy wondering if it’d burn you."

"Fine. But don’t take a big bite, I’m still hungry."

"Of course, darling. I’d never."

He carefully took a bite of your food, with your fork — or chopsticks, depending on the plate — humming as he felt the sweet savour you were experiencing just before on his own tongue.

"It’s not bad."

"Right ? I love it."

He killed two birds with the same stone. Sure, he appreciated to eat, but it was irrelevant here. He ate from the same fork as you — so you two kissed indirectly. He was a bit ashamed to lie about not remembering the taste of your food. He did, but he wanted to kiss you. But who could blame him ? He just wanted to be as close as possible with you, and he couldn’t touch you directly all the time. It was a tad embarrassing to ask for kisses, too.

ISAGI YOICHI also helps you when you want to wear several necklaces at the same time. It’s plain frustrating when you try to fasten them without tying a chain to the wrong one. But don’t worry, Isagi has your back. He wouldn’t let you struggle by yourself when he has the opportunity to do it for you.

"They’re tangled, darling."

"They are ? I swear to god—", you groaned, ready to fight with the pendants around your neck.

"Turn around for me," He told you, and you did. Of course. He brushed your hair to the side, allowing himself to look at the ties of the necklaces. They weren’t tangled at all. But it wouldn’t be fun if they weren’t. He removed each one of your perfectly tied chains, before carefully fastening them again — his hands lingering on your skin longer than necessary.

"Here you go, babe," He finally muttered, his arms wrapping around your waist from behind, pressing a gentle kiss to your shoulder, earning a smile from you. His favorite reward.

If lying was that bad, why did it feel so good ?

[latetaektalk]

love to hate you | jjk [vii, preview]

“when obnoxiously rich and spoiled frat boy jeon jungkook comes up to you one day and asks you to fake date him for money, you definitely should have said no. because before you knew it, you were going on insta dates with him and having lunch with his equally obnoxiously rich and spoiled friends.”

— genre: sexual themes, angst, fluff, fratboy! AU, fake dating! AU, college! AU, rich kid! AU, enemies to lovers! AU

— pairing: jungkook x female reader

— word count: estimated 100k for the series, 1618 for this preview

— warnings: none for this preview

— playlist: to be added

— a/n: hi. im here to deliver a new chapter and banner for my favourite two idiots. im thankful to everyone for waiting so incredibly patiently and being so nice. i hope this snippet can satisfy you guys until the actual chapter drops (10k+ so far) !! oh and for anyone who might have forgotten the timeline of the story, the characters are stuck in December!!

— find it here

“Is everyone going home for Christmas?” Namjoon asked, wiping his mouth before grabbing his glass of wine, holding it up to his lips, speaking into it. “I know Kook is for sure.”

Jungkook nodded. “Got me there.”

And even without looking at him, you knew he was smiling and more than excited to go back home. He squeezed your hand, and you could tell he did so unconsciously. You squeezed back, happy for him that he was happy.

“Oh, right, I’ve been meaning to ask!” Jimin gasped, turning rather dramatically towards you. You blinked, unsure of what was about to spill from his lips.

“Is it true that you’re going back home with Kook, Y/N?” 

What?

Everyone turned to you, Chaeyoung raising her brow at you because were you? You stared back at her, mouth opened and closing because no, right? You weren’t, or were you? Your eyes lifted to Jungkook, and he had that same look on his face. Neither of you knew what to say or do. This wasn’t something you had discussed. And why would you have? It’d be ridiculous to assume that you’d be going back home with Jungkook to meet his parents for Christmas.

“Uh-?”

“I’m just asking because Kook’s parents have been asking me if I knew if he’s actually gonna bring you,” Jimin continued, shrugging. And maybe you would have focused on how much you wanted to strangle him right now and needed him to shut up if your mind wasn’t reeling from the fact that Jungkook seemed to have not only told his parents about your existence but also that you would be spending Christmas with them.

What?

“Okay, yeah, no, wait,” Jungkook interjected, a clear panic in his voice, turning fully to you. “I can explain.”

You blankly stared at him, unable to even make a single sound. He dug a hand through his hair, looking even more panicked the longer you said nothing.

“So, uh, my brother saw my posts and stories online and might have told my parents… that I’m dating you. And so they’ve been really curious and asking about you a lot, and it was a little annoying, so I just told them that I might bring you around for Christmas to shut them up. But—” He held out his hand as if to get ahead of you saying anything. “—I didn’t promise them anything. I just said it to get them off my back, you know?”

You continued staring at him, unsure of how to react or what to say because well, you hadn’t thought that either of your parents were ever going to get involved in any shape or form. You hadn’t even played with the idea of telling your parents. And why would you? All of this was fake! A ruse, so Jungkook could win his stupid bet!

“It wasn’t planned, or anything, okay? I wasn’t going to tell them about you-”

“You weren’t?” Jimin blurted out, brows pinching together. He seemed to have lost all ability to read the room, just a glass or two of wine enough to dull his brain. “Ow-!”

He glared at Taehyung, rubbing his arm. It still wasn’t enough to shut him up however. 

“What was that for? I’m just saying I’m a little surprised that Jungkook, the definition of a mama’s and papa’s boy, was planning on keeping his girlfriend a secret when he hasn’t shut up about Y/N for months-”

“No, wait it’s not like that,” Jungkook quickly scrambled, gesturing wildly. “It’s just that my parents, you know, can get a little much. And, I don’t know-”

His sentence didn’t find an end, and Jimin seemed to just take that as a sign to go on, 

“Didn’t Narae meet-”

“Okay, how about you finish your food, huh?” Taehyung interrupted, taking Jimin’s fork and picking up a big piece of meat before shoving it into his mouth. Namjoon and Seokjin exchanged glances, cringing. Yoongi lowered his head, and Jennie slid down on her seat. Chaeyoung looked at you with big empathetic eyes and Jisoo even gave your hand a squeeze. 

If there was anything genuine between you, this would have been devastating. Luckily, there wasn’t. So it couldn’t hurt. And yet, your heart felt like it was bleeding in your chest, a dagger shoved in, a dagger with Jungkook’s name. He was staring holes into you, but you couldn’t look at him, settling on the edge of the table instead. You weren’t hurt. You weren’t hurt that Narae with her perfect smile and manicured nails and beautiful hair and glossy lips got to meet his parents and you didn’t. It didn’t bother you at all! That was what you told yourself at least. Because you couldn’t possibly be hurt. Not when your relationship was transactional and just an act. And yet, to your misery, you were hurt, deeply. You hated it, how you weren’t all that unbothered as you wanted and more importantly, should be. 

You were pulled out of your thoughts though when you saw the glare Hoseok was looking at Jungkook with. It dawned on you how awful all of it had to sound to your friends then. Narae, who never even was Jungkook’s official girlfriend, got to meet his parents, but you, who was officially (at least to them) his girlfriend, he not only didn’t want to introduce to them but also planned on keeping a secret?

“Oh my God, you guys!” you laughed, loud and light, like it was all so very dumb and stupid. With a big swoop, you grabbed Jungkook’s hand on the table, hoping no one saw the shake in your fingers. Everyone looked at you.

“You’re misunderstanding. We had agreed from the beginning that we should take it a little slower, and not tell everyone immediately. I knew he wasn’t going to tell his parents. I told him not to.” You put on your most convincing smile, swallowing the knot in your throat, hoping desperately it was enough. Everyone was looking at you, and you looked right back at them, at everyone except for Jungkook. Your vision almost blurred, hazy at the edges, feeling your composure threaten to slip.

“It’s nothing.”

There was a slight shake in your voice, the tiniest of a waver. You couldn’t tell if your friends noticed, their faces unreadable to you. A moment of silence stretched across the room, the food long forgotten about. In the end, it was slightly tipsy Jimin, the one who started it all, to break the awkwardness.

“Okay, well, do I text them… yes or-?”

You wondered if Jimin was this stupid, or trying to put you through hell on purpose. His question made Taehyung next to him sigh and shake his head, lips pressed together as he stared daggers into the older one.

“What?” Jimin whispered, offended. Maybe you should have taken the wine from him sooner. 

You looked at Jungkook finally. He didn’t seem to have an answer at all, his eyes big and wide like a child’s. There was something in them that you couldn’t quite pinpoint. It almost seemed like he wanted you to agree, say yes, of course, you’d meet his parents. You had to be imagining it. As quickly as it had come, you squashed the thought.

It was up to you. The decision was in your hands. Everyone was waiting for your answer. Jungkook would have to go with whatever you were saying, whether or not he liked it. 

A lot of it was probably spite, spite that Narae met them already and you hadn’t. And how would it look if you weren’t there when Jungkook inevitably made a post about being back home with his family and you weren’t there in the pictures? What would Narae think? You could already see a backhanded Instagram story in front of your eyes, how there was trouble in paradise. It was something you wouldn’t put past her at all, seeing as she had done so before, posting just an hour after Jungkook celebrated your one month anniversary about how cringe some couples could be. Anyone doubting your relationship might just lead to Taehyung doubting your relationship and then to Jungkook losing his bet and all of this would have been for nothing. That couldn’t happen, right? You had to do something against it!

“They probably won’t stop bothering you until you tell them yes, right?” 

You tried your hardest to sound casual, nonchalant, chill as some might say. This was no big deal, you told yourself.

It wasn’t what Jungkook had expected. He thought you’d give some roundabout answer that in the end summarised that you needed to keep things slow and easy. But you agreed. You were going to meet his parents. He searched for something in your features, anything to tell him how you genuinely felt about it. He was trying to read you, but it was like he had the wrong dictionary. 

“If that’s alright with you-” Maybe it was to hit the nail on the head, finish it off, you couldn’t say. But the urge was strong right then, just once to say it. “—babe?”

You turned to him and looked at him almost confidently. It was both your face and the pet name, but Jungkook couldn’t help but laugh. Of course, now you were going to call him babe. A grin spread across his lips.

“Okay, yeah.” He held your hand firmer and tighter. “I’d be more than happy for you to meet my parents. They’d be thrilled.”

He was a great liar. It sounded oh so very genuine.

You squeezed his hand and turned to Jimin. “I guess you can text them I’m going.”

find it here!!

[pedge-page]

Imagine baby Sarah angry with Joel for not giving into her asks and wants like idk candy maybe and sides with reader going behind Joel’s back to ask the exact same thing and then in the middle of the day Joel questions how Sarah got a lollipop and reader says that Sarah told her that Joel said yes but to ask reader as well and they then connect the dots to discover that they’ve been played

Joel Dealing with Preggo Wife: Sarah's Bargain

Notes: I’ve derailed from this prompt a little because Sarah’s gotta outsmart all of the adults in the room.

- - - -

Sarah and Joel are walking through the gas station mart when she spots the colorful rack of assorted candy. 

"Daddy, can I have one ring pop?"

"No," he responds plainly, counting the twinkies in his hand and figuring out how many he can get before you yell at him.

"Why not."

He grabs two bottles of Pepsi in one hand before heading over to the check out counter. “Because I said so."

She grumbles and follows close behind him. "If I clean my room--"

"You can't bargain with me. I'm not mom. My answer is no."

She thinks about it for a moment. Then smiles. "Ok Daddy, I understand."

Joel is surprised she acquiesced so quickly. She seems to have gotten over the tantrum phase. Maybe he's doing a pretty good job at this parenting thing after all. 

- 

Later on, you take Sarah along with you to go grocery shopping. "Mom.”

"Yes bubba."

"Dad said if I cleaned my room, I could have a ring pop."

You pause, surveying the special deal for pepsi cans. Despite Joel telling you about the suspicious amount of pepsi that’s been disappearing from his stock, you hadn’t touched any. In fact, you had your own stock that you suspect he’s found out and been stealing from. 

“What?”

“A ring pop,” she repeats. “Dad said if if cleaned my room, I could have one.”

 Thats very uncharacteristic of him to bargain with Sarah.

"He did? So what are you coming to me for?"

"Well he said ONLY if you agreed. Said it was OK but to ask mom first to be sure."

Fuck, making me do the hard decision. Joels always the favorite, and if you say no now, then it’s going to make you the mean mom for no reason. You did see she cleaned her room without being told...

You grab the pepsi case, hoping Joel won't scold you for your own hoarders pile.  

You see the innocent batting of her eyes just as you look over to the candy aisle. “Well if Dad said yes..." 

-

Sarah and Joel are sitting at the table as he unwraps his secret stash of pepsi and Twinkie’s away from you. 

"I asked mom for a ring pop and she said yes,” she mentions while coloring her book.

Joel freezes with half the cream custard in his mouth. “I said—“ 

"Its ok! I told her since you had said no, that she didn't need to get me one. I just wanted to see if she would..."

"You trying to set me up against mom?"

"No..." she adds quickly. "I just... thought it would be an interesting experiment.” She smiles softly, before turning to a very mature, saddened tone. “But then I realized it was wrong and I should have listened to you in the first place. So I didn’t take it because I know you said no."

He thinks about it for a moment. Now you’re going to come to him lecturing about why Sarah doesn't get things when she CLEARLY has a good sense of responsibility, going as far to say no to something she clearly wants just to respect him. She's also smart to test both of you, and even when she could have had it, she still refused. 

“Alright. Just cuz I'm proud of ya.” He dusts the power from his fingers and fishes for his wallet. “You’re a smart kid. But I don't want you testing your mom n’ me for the same answer.  And I don't want to get in trouble with her. I'll get you one. Just this once ok?"

She nods solemnly and crosses her heart. “I won’t say anything.”

-

The next day, you hear Joel and Sarah coming in from the garage and you quickly stash your pepsi behind the potted plant. Your daughter gives you a fat kiss on the cheek before running to the living room and turning on the tv.

You and Joel sit at the table. “I saw the can by the way.” He remarks.

You grunt, pulling the aluminum from its hiding spot and proudly sipping it before crinkling it in your hand. “Well I haven’t been stealing from you. I …have my own stash.”

Joel gasps, offended and surprised by your double standards. “And you yell at me n’ my Twinkies!”

"There better not be any f-ing twinkies in this house Joel Miller," you point at him threateningly.

"Nope none Nada. Haven't seen any." he slowly tucks the new plastic back full of them under his legs.

"The two of you talk about Sarah having cleaned her room without being told. 

"Yeah, I ended up getting her the ring pop,” he tells you.

You furrow your brows.

“?… but, I got her the ring pop. She said you told her I would get if it I also approved? I didn’t want to be the mean mom!"

Fuck, Joel knows you get too worked up on trying to be too nice and cater to Sarah... "What? I told her no first. I never said it was up to you. Then she said she asked you and you said yes, but she refused yours, so I got her it instead for being responsible. I told you to stop worrying about being the nice mom!”

You also know Joel's a sucker for marveling Sarah's experimental mind and working on being responsible over getting what she wants. "She did NOT refuse my offer. what are you talking about?"

Tommy comes in moments later, and waves to the two of you through the open door. Sarah runs up to him near the doorway, and he greets her first suspiciously. They do a funky little hand shake, and you catch a glimpse of something silver going into his palm before she retreats to the living room 

"What are you doing here?" Joel asks.

Tommy shrugs. "Uh nothin’ just.."

"Did you just slip her a ring pop??" You ask incredulously. 

He huffs a guilty sigh. "Sarah asked for a ring pop because you guys told her no, so I went to pick one up at the store as long as she didn’t tell either you...."

Fuck. You and Jole BOTH know Tommy's complex about wanting to be Sarah's favorite uncle (despite the fact you keep reminding him he's her  ONLY uncle and he has no competition).

Above all else, Sarah knows these weakness about each of you. You all look over to her as she unwrap a third ring pop, putting all of them on her one hand and switching back and forth sucking on them. There's an open Pepsi can clutched in her other tiny palm that she sips from, with an exceedingly satisfied grin on her face.

- - - -

Taglist:

@harriedandharassed @lola8888673 @its-nebuleuse @zliteraturehoe @merz-8 @joeldjarin @pascalscoffin @pedroshotwifey @ghostslillady @innerpersonunknown @missladym1981 @mrsoharaxx @survivingandenduring @milla-frenchy @cockykookiee @fairytale07 @daddy-din @pedropascalsbbg @spookyxsam @somehopeatlast @millercontracting @pedrostories @mishala005 @theoraekenslover @animez96 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @puduvallee @cassiecasluciluce @loohoop

[heliads]

I’m not sure if you write for Marauders or not, but I thought I would ask. I’ve also never requested before, so apologies if I do this wrong.

My request is a Regulus Black x a female Potter reader where they fake their deaths to hide from Voldemort and destroy all his horcruxes in secret. Once they’ve destroyed all the horcruxes they reveal that they are alive to Sirius and James, and there is a cute reunion scene that’s really fluffy.

Again, sorry if I did this wrong. Thank you so much!!

oh i would do anything for the marauders (including writing for them)

masterlist

Night has fallen when Regulus Black tells you that he’s leaving. He waits until now, the final hour, as if hoping that the dark shades of midnight will hide what he’s planning from the rest of the world. Regulus will be found out, of that he is certain, he just hopes that he’ll have enough time to do some sort of good before he’s caught.

The smart thing would be to leave before anyone got word of his disappearance. Regulus is not smart when he comes to you, however, or so he admits when he shows up on your doorstep when you were just about to go to bed.

Regulus says that he’s leaving alone. It doesn’t explain why he showed up to say goodbye, or perhaps the thought of that solitude is the very reason for it. Regulus is alone except for when he’s with you. Every time that he was lonely, he sought you out. It makes perfect sense that now, when he fears the quiet abyss of death, he would want a farewell from you one last time.

You, however, are unwilling to let him go. It was hard enough having to endure the past few years estranged from him like another brother to let go. You’re a Potter, he’s a Black, and even though Sirius switched over to your side, Regulus hadn’t. Not yet. Not until now.

It had all but torn you to pieces, choosing loyalty with your brother James and his best friend Sirius when Regulus seemed so far away. Regulus had always been kind to you throughout your years at Hogwarts, the two of you closer than anyone despite how your scarlet school robes clashed with his emerald ones, and just when you swore nothing could separate you, he signed on with the Death Eaters.

Now he’s in front of you, telling you that he’s going to take down the Dark Lord or die trying. It seems like a fool’s errand, and a dangerous one at that. That’s what you tell him after you get over the shock of seeing him after such a long time, once you remember to invite him into your house and lock the door securely behind you.

The outside is blank and dark, but in your home, you’ve never felt more alive. You had wondered what it would be like to see Regulus after so much time, and it’s like you’re back at Hogwarts instead of in some small apartment close to your job. He’s here, and you’re here, and the thought that he’s about to go fling himself into the grasp of unwarranted death is unthinkable.

Perhaps that’s why you let it happen under only one condition:  that you be there too. Regulus is a brother and you are a sister and the two of you understand each other, you always have. That’s why you know without a doubt that Regulus will not stray from this quest, even though you try to persuade him from it nonetheless. It’s why he knows better than to fight when you assert that he won’t be doing it alone.

You did try to talk him out of it a little, at least. Why would it be him of all people to try to take down Voldemort? When there are so many witches and wizards fighting in the cause, why should he be the one to die?

You had not gained much by way of explanation. “It’s my responsibility,” he had said simply. 

Regulus would know about responsibility. Regulus, who joined the Death Eaters to appease his parents, who regretted the choice from the moment the inked skull appeared on his forearm. You’ve caught him staring at the accursed tattoo for hours, only when he thinks no one else is around. You know he only feels comfortable wearing long sleeved shirts so he doesn’t have to look at it and remember what he became. 

It is his responsibility to save the wizarding world, and so it will be yours, too. Regulus isn’t pleased at first when you tell him that you’ll be going with him on the quest to hunt down the horcruxes, but you refuse to change your mind. When the moon hangs high in the sky later that night, you think he goes to sleep with a smile at the thought that he’ll have such a lovely traveling companion. He tells you as much when you set off, anyway. 

He might as well be smiling about something, you won’t have much reason to do so until the difficult deed is done. You’re already leaving under terrible circumstances as is; in order to avoid detection from the Dark Lord and his followers, you and Regulus have staged each other’s deaths. When your friends come upon the scene later, they’ll believe that Regulus, a Death Eater, came by your home to kill you, a member of the Order of the Phoenix. You fought back and managed to wound Regulus enough to end his life, but not before he returned the favor for you as well.

It’s a horrific sight, the illusion of both of your bodies lying side by side. Your brother will find this out later, and be sick with grief. Regulus’ brother too, even if the taint of betrayal will make the whole scene wretched with wrongness. For now, though, you have no time to think of possible reactions nor the difficulty of what you are forcing your friends and family to endure. The only objective in your mind is how to destroy the horcruxes so that the war can be won.

Regulus knows of the first, a locket in a cursed lake somewhere deep underground. He takes you there first, and it takes him weeks to sleep off the aftereffects of that awful potion hiding the locket. Whenever you close your eyes, you see the rings of fire you had to conjure up to fight back the Inferi swarming from the lake, how they had emerged from the greenish lake ready to drag Regulus into the water the second he bent his head to drink.

Regaining the locket is an awful thing, destroying it more so. It takes the two of you several days before you’re able to do it for good, and all the while the accursed relic whispers lies in your ears, trying to convince you to abandon each other. When a wave of rage so strong it almost kills you makes you black out and slam the thing with the Killing Curse, it works at last. You’ve never used an Unforgivable Curse before. It takes surprisingly little willpower to do.

Regulus talks you through that. It’s easier to address the use of Avada Kedavra than the ugly truth both of you know, which is that there will be no guarantee that either of you will make it out of this infernal quest. It took everything in you to find and destroy the locket, which at least you knew about. What of the other horcruxes? How will you survive them, too?

The two of you travel across the country, listening in to wizarding news and doing your best to find out what the remaining horcruxes could be. You share space, you share secrets. You’ve never been closer to Regulus in your entire life. The thought that the two of you went a year or two without speaking after you left Hogwarts is unthinkable now. How could you breathe without him?

After dark, he lies awake, watching the light from a charmed lantern flit across the ceiling. He says, you don’t have to do this. Stay with him. Risk your life like this.

You prop yourself up on one elbow so you can get a better look at him. The furrows in his brow are more pronounced now, and the shadows under his eyes, which have been there since the day you met him, are now dark enough to look like the hollows of a skull. Of course I do. 

As if the universe meant to reward your faithfulness, you’re blessed with a clue the next day. Regulus recognizes a Death Eater furtively walking down a street and follows him, overhearing the man tell one of his friends that Lucius Malfoy was apparently given some strange token of the Dark Lord’s. They’re both jealous that they weren’t given Voldemort’s refuse, apparently, but their complainings are like music to your ears.

Malfoy’s item is a diary, and it writes pages of frantic scribblings in an attempt to save itself before Regulus hits it with Fiendfyre which, strangely enough, works. Stranger still was trying to break into Malfoy Manor to find a journal, but all’s well that ends well. You got in, you got out, and although there are definitely some house elves under Lucius’ employ that will wonder why they heard voices in the dark that one night, no one is the wiser.

The next secret you hear is not an item but a place, the family home of the Dark Lord’s mother. The two of you comb the place relentlessly until you find an old ring buried deep beneath the earth. Just to be sure, you check it for curses, and after a great deal of difficulty, are able to remove the dark enchantment before destroying it for good.

You lie awake that night, musing aloud before you can stop yourself. “We only barely caught the curse on that one. What if the other ones were enchanted as well and we didn’t know it?”

Regulus sits up, brushing dark hair out of his eyes so he can look at you. “What if we’re both going to die because we didn’t catch something in time, you mean?” He asks.

You nod reluctantly. “I don’t want to seem like I’m losing faith, because I’m not, but– I worry sometimes, you know?”

Regulus stands, takes both your hands in his palms and kisses them. “I rely on your worries, Y/N. They keep us alive. And no, I don’t think we’re cursed. Not yet, at least. If we were, I could at least die with you. That’s worth something, isn’t it?”

You laugh. “That’s morbid, Regulus.”

“But true,” he muses.

He tells you he loves you the next day. It feels like it’s been a long time coming. You have never been one to declare love immediately, but it’s different with Regulus, always has been. If you were in the mood to be honest, you would admit that you have been in love with him for years, ever since the two of you were small enough to hide in your brothers’ shadows and find each other there. You have loved him since the start. You will love him until the end.

Taking down the next horcrux is almost easy, if such things were allowed to be said. You’re fuelled by the hope that this might be the end. Standing over the shattered bits and pieces of Helga Hufflepuff’s Cup, you almost believe it. It’s funny, you always thought that you would somehow be able to tell when you finally destroyed the last of the horcruxes, like you could feel it in the air or something.

You feel nothing when the cup is destroyed. It scares you. You and Regulus have been extremely careful to keep yourselves hidden, but you dare to poke your heads out of the shadows for a little bit to determine if you were successful or not. Although you hear rumors that Voldemort seems weakened, that his forces have started losing battles despite him being at the helm of the attacks, he is not yet dead.

It’s heartbreaking. After all of your efforts, your trials and tribulations, every injury and weakness the two of you have sustained on the quest to defeat the Dark Lord, it still isn’t enough. You listen, you spend weeks and then a full month waiting for information, but nothing comes. There is no sign that there are any more horcruxes, but Voldemort has not died. How could it be so?

You come up with a tentative solution in the end, which is to go to Dumbledore for advice. In a way, it seems almost childish– why should the headmaster have any idea what to do, other than the fact that he led your school where the two of you first met and studied? Then again, Dumbledore is the most powerful wizard of his age. If anyone would know how to proceed, surely it would be him.

Regulus agrees readily enough, recognizing the necessity that if the two of you cannot find a way to continue on your journey, it will never end, and before long the two of you are Apparating near familiar territory and walking up to the castle on foot. You disguise your faces with a simple charm; the two of you are supposed to be dead, after all, but all it takes is one glance at you and Dumbledore is smiling and telling you that he’s glad to see two such familiar corpses up and about.

You laugh, you can’t help it, and remove the charm once you and Regulus are safely in Dumbledore’s office and out of sight. After explaining your predicament, Dumbledore sits for a moment in contemplative silence and then says at last, “It must be the diadem.”

You and Regulus exchange glances, then look back at him. “What diadem?” Regulus asks.

“The diadem of Rowena Ravenclaw, of course,” Dumbledore muses. “Tom Riddle– the Dark Lord, if you like your pleasantries– was captivated by the magic of the four founders of Hogwarts. You have told me already of Hufflepuff’s cup, this is the expected companion piece. It must be somewhere within the castle, but where– but where–”

He clears his throat after a lengthy pause. “I give both of you permission to scour the castle for it. I will caution the staff not to look too closely at either of you. Take however much time you need, but I would urge you to hurry. More of us die by the day, and it would do us no good to have our friends fall as a consequence of our own dillydallying.”

You look up at him. “And what happens after we destroy the diadem? It must be the last horcrux, or the last one he’s created so far. Will that kill him for good?”

“No,” Dumbledore murmurs, “that will end the horcruxes, not the monster who made them. Once the horcruxes are gone, he will be severely weakened and search for however has been hunting down his creations. You two are lucky that you have not died already, you know. I have no doubt that he has already begun attempts to stop you from completing your goal.”

You shudder, remembering past encounters. Death Eaters had nearly caught up to you many times, and on numerous occasions, they had, requiring firefights of spells and hexes before you and Regulus could escape to relative safety.

Beside you, Regulus tenses, obviously thinking along the same lines. “How do we survive once we destroy the last of the horcruxes? How do we stay out of his sight?”

Dumbledore sighs, weary and heavy. “I will put a stop to him,” he says at last, and that is that.

You and Regulus conjure up your charms once again, disguising your faces to all students who happen to pass by. You look in towers and dungeons, empty classrooms and great halls. It’s a mad memory rush being back here, and it is difficult not to mix memory with your current situation.

When a few hours of searching pass by, though, and neither of you have found even the slightest hint of a diadem, your fond musings are replaced by desperate anger. This is your last step, surely, if you could just find the thing. It would all be over if you could merely find one diadem in one castle.

Regulus leans against a nearby stone wall, eyes cast up to the sky in a plea for help. “Where would a diadem be? In the Ravenclaw dorm, maybe?”

You shake your head. “Dumbledore said it wouldn’t be there.”

You pace back and forth, trying to wrap your head around the issue. What other sections of the castle are particularly known to Rowena Ravenclaw? You’ll wear a path into the carpet beneath your feet while you try and think, but nothing seems to work until the wall opposite Regulus suddenly shifts away, revealing a door.

You and Regulus stare at the room that has appeared out of nowhere. “Do you remember a hidden room near here?” Regulus asks faintly.

You shake your head. “James loved tracking down every secret passage, and he told me most of them, but I don’t think even he knew about this one.”

It’s nice to have a first. You smile to yourself, then take Regulus’ hand when he offers it and walk inside the mysterious room.

The chamber is packed to the gills with objects great and small. It occurs to you that even if the diadem is somewhere in here, it could take years to sift through all this junk. You and Regulus look at each other, shrug, and each take a corridor in which to search. 

About half an hour has gone by before Regulus gives a shout. “Found it!”

You race over to his side, and stand, breathless, looking at the very same artifact that’s caught his attention. It’s old, dusty, and not particularly noteworthy, but it has this terrible feel to it that all of the horcruxes had in turn.

“This is it,” you whisper. One last shot. Then, the end.

Regulus lifts his wand, summons a tendril of Fiendfyre, which goes straight through the diadem, shattering it like glass. It’s silent for a moment, and then, when the last shard of the diadem falls to the ground with a quiet crunch, you’re both rocked backward by a boom like a cannon. This, at last, you can feel. This is it.

Dumbledore is waiting for you when the two of you emerge from the room. “I’ll take my leave of you,” he says, “and thank you.”

You nod. “What do we do now?” 

For a moment, despite the burden that has now been placed on your old headmaster’s shoulders, despite all the lives that have been lost and those that will still be taken, Dumbledore smiles. “You can go home.”

Sirius used to stay the night at the home of you and your brother, you remember that from your school days. It would then follow that, with everything in peril and friends disappearing by the day, Sirius would be at James’ right now. It certainly saves a trip for you and Regulus. Dumbledore gives you their address before you leave, and he tells you to waste no more time.

As if there is anything in the world that you want more than to see your family. You and Regulus Apparate a street or two down from the house, then walk over, hand in hand. Before you know it, you’re waiting on the threshold. The lights are on somewhere in the back of the house; you can hear voices, then a shout of a laugh you remember as Sirius’. It’s more quiet than it used to be, a little more hesitant. He’s lost a lot, the elder Black brother, but he’ll gain some today, too.

Regulus squeezes your hand. “Let’s come back from the dead,” he says.

You smile at him. “That sounds good to me.”

The doorbell echoes through the house, ceasing all conversation. There are slow footsteps to the door, a pause as someone looks through the peephole, and then all of a sudden the door has been flung open and you’re engulfed in a whirlwind of a hug. Your brother is here, your brother is lifting you off the ground with the force of his embrace, and it’s been so, so long since you’ve seen him, but you’re back again, and everything is okay at last.

James’ eyes are as wide as saucers when he finally leans away to get a good look at you. “Y/N, you’re– I swear, if you’re a Death Eater using Polyjuice, I will hurt you so badly–”

You laugh. “I’m me, James. Just me. If you want proof, though, I offer up the memory of when you were a first year and totally in love with Lily and you had me–”

James cuts you off quickly. “Alright, alright. It’s you. God, it’s you.”

A figure appears behind James, and a quiet voice asks, “Regulus?”

James moves aside so Sirius can see his brother. Regulus stands perfectly still, says, “We tried to fix it, Sirius, we hurt him, the Dark Lord, we–”

Regulus told you years ago that he wasn’t that affectionate with his brother. It’s to be expected, of course, divisions between brothers rarely settle themselves sweetly. You suppose that’s why Regulus looks so stunned when Sirius reaches out an arm and hugs him. You’re not sure if he’s trying to crush his younger brother or just make sure that he’s actually real, but they both look vaguely confused when it’s over. Happy, though. Glad to be alive.

The news will come out later that week that Voldemort is dead. Dumbledore did what was promised and killed him. That means the war is over, and that means you can rest at last. You’ll get a place to stay with Regulus. The thought of leaving him now that the two of you can be together without fear is unthinkable. You don’t want to be without him, and thanks to your suffering on the path to destroy the horcruxes, you won’t have to.

Dawn breaks. And you think– you think this might be it. Not a harsh end, but a soft one. A quiet aftermath. You’ll live, and Regulus will too. That’s more than you expected during those months on the run. When the two of you went to sleep unsure if you’d wake up in the morning, your wildest dreams could not encapsulate the wonderful life you have right now. It is marvelous, and it is yours. That is all. 

requested by @bookishirishdancer, i hope you enjoy!

harry potter tag list: @rogueanschel, @cameronsails, @neewtmas, @lovesanimals0000, @with-inked-solace, @sher-lokid7, @eclliipsed, @frenchgirlinlondon, @23victoria, @ilovexavierthrope

[azzifuddworlddomination]

casual pt. 3

paige x azzi fic

yall already knowwwww i did not proof read

this is mostly filler

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“No… no… no…” Colleen replies mindlessly as Azzi holds up different shirts, “Az, I seriously don’t think going to Montana is a good idea. How did you even get your parents to agree to this? They take holidays pretty seriously.” Azzi takes a breath, “I told them I’d spend the entirety of Christmas break with Jon and Jose.” “Yeah? Until Paige comes over,” Colleen says under her breath. “Are you gonna help or no?” Azzi asks her. “Fine,” Colleen says as she settles back onto Azzi’s bed. 

Azzi stands under the awning of their dorm building as Paige pulls the car up. Its cold Connecticut morning and the snow is falling in thick and heavy flakes. After what seems like a very cold forever, Paige pulls around and parks. Hopping out of her car, she goes around to open the trunk. As her hand lands on Azzi’s suitcase, she’s met with resistance. Azzi tugs the suitcase from Paige’s hands, “I can put it in myself y’know.” Paige gives her a confused look as Azzi doesn’t pay her any mind, instead going around to get in the passenger’s seat. “I turned the heated seat on for you, I know you like that,” Paige says, as Azzi stares out the window. 

Azzi doesn’t want to be mad. She would be thrilled to be going to spend Thanksgiving with her girlfriend’s family. But that wasn’t the case. She was going to act as a buffer between her best-friend-turned-friends-with-benefits-in-hopes-of-them-being-together-one-day-in-the-future-but-one-of-them-pretty-much-ruined-that-after-acting-like-what-they-had-was-not-worth-actually-pursuing-and-they-are-just-casually-hooking-up-otherwise-known-as-a-situationship and her mother, who albeit is caring but struggles to connect with her daughter. To make matters even worse, Paige’s mom doesn’t know they’ve ever been anything beyond friends. She figured if Paige could bring her best friend, it would make Montana a little less boring. 

After an uncomfortably quiet ride, which luckily Paige just chalked up to Azzi being tired, they arrived at the airport. Paige watched in the mirror as Azzi grabbed both bags and mumbled something under her breath before she closed the trunk and gave Paige the go-ahead to go park. After finding a parking spot Paige noticed that Azzi had forgotten her unicorn neck pillow on the seat. She reached over and grabbed it. It’s the neck pillow she’s had since high school. Paige had seen it on more flights and bus rides than she could count. And on each on of those flights and bus rides without fail Paige had talked Azzi’s ear off as much as she would let her. Even though Azzi would tell Paige to just shut up and close her eyes, she never stopped listening until Paige stopped talking. She was such a good best friend. After enough reminiscing, Paige grabs the pillow and reaches for the car door. 

Azzi sits near the airport entrance as she toys with the tags on Paige’s bag. Azzi thought having multiple tags on her suitcase was a little redundant, but as she flipped through the tags she stopped at the one with the Hopkins High School logo on the back. It still had Paige’s old Minnesota address. Azzi reminisced on the times that she had gone to Minnesota to visit her, or the times she had traveled to see Paige play for Hopkins. Azzi started to look at the tag with the UConn logo on it, the address almost identical to hers. Only the room number differed. Azzi thought to herself for a moment, what it would be like to finally live together. Would their bedding be pink or purple, or maybe they’d mutually agree on a different color or a mix of the two? It was dumb, Azzi thought, it wasn’t worth wasting her time thinking about. You wouldn’t know how stupid she finds it, if you knew how much she thought about all the hypotheticals in her in Paige’s lives; all of the what ifs, all of the far-off futures, all of the daydreams, and delusions. Azzi flipped to the deep purple tag, it listed her Maryland address. She remembers Paige’s face when she told her that she finally wouldn’t live so far away. She could barely contain her excitement. Finally, Azzi flipped over a pinkish-purple tag, listing Azzi’s house under the address. It was from when Paige stayed with her and her family during covid. She couldn’t help but feel a little sentimental over all the milestones she’s been through with Paige. 

“Stalking me or something?” Paige laughed as Azzi looked up at her like a deer in headlights, “you, uh, forgot this in the car,” Paige says as she hands Azzi the neck pillow. “Thanks,” Azzi shortly responds. Azzi feels caught in the act, wondering how long Paige saw her looking at the different tags she had on her bag while Paige wonders if Azzi can feel that Paige held onto the neck pillow a little longer than she should’ve and reminisced over all the places they’ve been together.

“You know, flying back from Argentina was probably the best flight I’ve been on. To this day,” Paige admits. “Really?” Azzi looks at her. “Yeah, a hundred percent. I’d do a twelve-hour flight with you any day, over a one-hour flight with anyone else. Azzi starts to wonder how bad it would be if she opened up an emergency exit would be, like who says that???? A few beats too late, Azzi responds, “Me too.” As the captain prepares the cabin for take off Paige looks nervously at Azzi, “you know I’m still scared of take off right?” “Still?” Azzi looks at her? “Yeah, still,” Paige responds. Azzi uncrosses her previously crossed arms as she allows Paige to slink her hand under her own and intertwine their fingers.

Paige squeezes her hand as they take off. Azzi squeezes it back as a sign of reassurance. Even as they finally reach their cruising altitude Paige doesn’t remove her hand. As the flight goes on Azzi feels Paige’s hand go limp as she drifts off to sleep. Their fingers intertwined until they touched down in Montana, Azzi couldn’t make up her mind if this trip would be her saving grace or her biggest regret. 

[matan4il]

Buddie 613 meta

We now know that the man who risked himself to get Buck out of the line of fire during the shooting arc is Jeshan, which means ‘clear’ (if you’re interested, you can find more name meanings for 911 characters here). So let me just giggle for a second about the fact that 911 had once again reunited Buddie with a character who can be referred to as Captain Clear Me(h)ta. Coincidence? IDK. But I have to admit, it kinda made me reflect back and feel nostalgic. When I first started watching the show, I had no intention of writing meta for 911, but after going ballistic when 309 aired, I knew I would HAVE to use the s3 hiatus to write down all my thoughts about everything Buddie related so far. That’s what I did, I wrote and shared my baby, my first round of Buddie meta. That’s where it was supposed to end, but then people asked and encouraged me to write meta for the eps in 3b as they would air, too. I figured I could try, and that’s how my Buddie weekly meta posts were born. At the time, there was no one else writing proper weekly meta (I don’t mean a summary/review of the ep, or meta posts that stand on their own, but proper analysis on Buck, Eddie and those who matter to them, organized and serialized for each ep as it aired). And now, I’ve been writing them for almost 3.5 seasons. And I feel like they’ve inspired others to do the same. TBH, I can’t actually remember seeing weekly meta posts in other fandoms (maybe they exist and I just haven’t come across them, IDK). So I got all emotional, thinking about how these posts may be love notes to Buddie and the show, but most of all they’re a love letter to the wonderful people who have been supportive and encouraging, who’ve been reblogging the posts, who’ve been commenting on them and telling me that what I do makes a difference for them. Thank you so much, these posts wouldn’t exist without you. You have a much bigger impact on the fandom than you might have realized! So if Captain Mehta is indeed a nod to the meta, it’s a loving, appreciative nod that belongs to all of you. ~~

When Chim shows up to escort Hen to work, he ends up sitting down for a talk with Denny instead, and I really enjoyed this scene, it was lovely, but it also once again emphasized the difference between the firefam kids’ relationship with their parents’ colleagues and the r/s Buck and Chris have. Chim talks to Hen’s son when he happens to come across the kid, but he only sits down for a proper conversation because Denny implies Hen and Karen are up to something intimate, and Chim shouldn’t interrupt them just yet. Consider how different that is to how Buck intentionally looks to spend time with and dedicated to Chris! And then Chim is impressed by how smart Denny is. It’s cute, but it also reveals just how little they interact that this comes as a surprise to Chim. It’s so different to the intimate familiarity of a parent, which is what we know Buck has with Chris (and that Chris has with Buck, which can even be seen in the kid’s teasing, for example regarding the snoring in 414). ~~

You might have seen that, when the promo came out, I momentarily lost my sanity and posted this. I just couldn’t get over the fact that they actually had Eddie correct the chief on the duration of Buck’s death. It was such a spouse thing to do. It was a declaration about the anguish that each single second represented, when Eddie couldn’t breathe because Buck wasn’t. It was a confession of sorts, on how Eddie felt as he desperately NEEDED his husband to live (I’m not even joking when I ascribe him this title, Eddie said with his whole chest, “THAT IS MY IDIOT HUSBAND THAT I HAD TO WATCH DIE FOR THREE MINUTES AND SEVENTEEN SECONDS AND I WILL NEVER FORGET ANY OF THOSE SECONDS, NOR LET ANYONE ELSE DO THAT”). It was a glimpse into how time must have moved differently for him as each second etched itself forever into Eddie’s mind. And yes, it’s a clear parallel to 413, when we witness time slowing down for Eddie. And I mentioned in my post that in both scenarios, Buck is just out of his reach, so close, but simply not close enough. In one case, this forced Eddie to believe he must now accept his own death. In the other, he couldn’t accept the possibility that Buck would die, so he just fought harder, and if he couldn’t save Buck with one course of action, he tried another, Eddie just had to keep going, 'coz the idea of those three minutes and seventeen seconds turning into an eternity? Unacceptable. ~~

But notice in my unhinged post from that day, I used the word ‘counting.’ Eddie counted the seconds, and this is revealed to us at a poker game where Buck is counting the cards. I already noticed that when we saw the promo, but this connection was reinforced in the ep itself when Chief Williams vocalized what Buck was doing. The thing about counting is that it’s reserved for what matters, what’s crucial. Buck is counting the cards in order to win, and he wants to win because it matters to Eddie. Buck wasn’t the one who initiated the search for a poker game where he could use his newfound skills, Eddie was the one to take that initiative. And he could bring Buck along without telling him where they’re going (I would normally scream for a whole separate paragraph just about Eddie telling Buck to dress nice and there being no need for any further explanation or prompting, but we were so well fed, I’ll have to scream about it into my fist for just one sentence) 'coz Eddie was so sure his husband would go along with whatever crazy scheme he’d come up with. And he was right, even though Buck didn’t think it would end well, he still went along with what his husband wanted. Please let me reiterate: Buck’s counting cards because Eddie is so important to him, and Eddie was counting the seconds because Buck’s his vital sign. ~~

Another thing to keep in mind about the poker game is that the only other time we’ve seen Buck playing poker was in 312. In that ep, Eddie was off to meet Christopher’s school teachers (leading to his eventual lackluster r/s with Ana), so having a free evening, Buck spends it with Maddie, Chim and Josh (and is told he unequivocally sucks at Poker). Jokes were made about setting Josh and Buck up, and it was implied whatever Buck’s sexuality was, that was not the reason why Maddie abstained from making the match. What I find interesting is seeing how far our boys have come! In that ep, they were operating separately, and it led them down the wrong paths.

In this ep, Buck and Eddie were inseparable both as a couple (even sharing the winnings from Buck’s new talent, because what don’t these two share? And I was particularly chewing glass when Chief Williams asks Buck how he wanted HIS winnings, but instead of answering her, he looks at his husband. THEY ARE SO FREAKING MARRIED), and as a family unit with Chris (which is maybe a good moment to point out that all of the romantic couples were paired off in 613, and so were Buddie! Now, one could argue that Buck and Eddie were paired off because, well... who else is left for them to hang out with? But 312 is a reminder that when the show wants to, it can push the main cast and minor characters into the same orbit, so it still didn’t HAVE to pair Buck and Eddie off here. It chose to. On top of that, by showing them with Chris as well, 911 reminded us they’re far more bonded than just two best bros hanging out together ‘coz none of their other friends are single). In short, during 312, Buck lost and Eddie was about to be lost on a detour in his romantic journey. In 613, they ARE a family, they work as one throughout the ep, not just in parts of it, and they’re both winning. ~~

Something that gets to me is that when I first shared the BTS pic of Buddie at the poker game, it was clear that Eddie was just bursting with self confidence. He looked like he would be the star of that game. But when we got the promo, we discovered that it was actually going to be Buck who would shine that night. So what makes me slightly froth at the mouth is that all of that sexy confidence we picked up on in the photo? It was real. We weren’t wrong. It just wasn’t confidence that Eddie had in himself, it’s confidence he has in Buck. All of his swagger? Is a reflection of how much he believes and enjoys seeing his husband be a star. I am gonna need 3-6 working weeks at least to recover from knowing this. ~~

Speaking of things that destroyed me forever, everything about the Buckley-Diaz family in this ep falls into that category. I mean, not only did we once again have incredibly domestic scenes, we had one that was very reminiscent of the lasagna one in 601 (Eddie with Chris at the table, Buck fussing around them only to join in once he brings along something to be consumed), reinforcing that this is THEIR NORM, we also had Eddie and Chris being so cute and supportive when it comes to Buck’s new ability (Chris calls him a superhero, Eddie goes along with it, and when Buck’s upset he didn’t get a better superpower, naming some he would have liked to have, Eddie comforts him by saying those other options sound horrible). 

And then to top it all off, we had Buck and Chris cooking together. Bobby’s been explicitly acknowledged as basically being Buck’s dad by both of them, and we know Bobby’s been teaching Buck how to cook. Now we get Buck doing the same with Chris, clearly marking them as father and son, especially since this is done with just the two of them, this special time that’s allocated just to their bond together. Eddie is not needed as a middleman. I know that this isn’t news, but every single time the show reinforces this truth, that Buck is Christopher’s other dad, that their bond is that deep, I gain 10 years, so I have to mention it. ~~

For 613, I made my weekly gifset about Buck and answers, but I’d actually like to elaborate on what you see there. In 602, at the happiness center call, we see Buck looking to Lev in search for his own answers on what his happiness looks like. When he still can’t find any, he turns to Hen, because she always has them. Along this season, that’s been his theme. He’s trying to figure out what he wants in order to be happy, which is connected to the couch theme we’ve all been screaming about since 601 (and especially after he fell asleep on Eddie’s in 612). In 613, Buck suddenly finds that he’s the guy with the answers and he likes it. But has he really got them? Buck says these words to Eddie and Chris, and in addition to that, while he utters them, he’s literally captured in the same frame together with Eddie. But it’s also essential that we heard why Chris can’t just be given the answers. It’s in order to learn, Eddie tells him. That’s exactly what Buck has to do, he has to find his answers in order to learn from the search process. He’s not just there yet, but the framing of the whole scene coupled with the ongoing couch theme is very loud. ~~

What gets me maybe most of all in a whole ep of REALLY GOOD BUDDIE CONTENT, is the way the whole thing wraps up. The storyline on Buck’s new abilities doesn’t end with any commentary on those or on his recovery process. His last scene in this ep is the one with Chris. It follows directly the one with Hen and Karen, a scene which reminds us that we’re never surprised at either woman spending solo time with and caring about Denny, even though neither is biologically related to him, because they ARE BOTH his parents. In the same way, it’s only natural that we see Buck spending alone time with Chris, without Eddie around. It is so meaningful that the last shot of Buck in this ep is not about his story line at all, and neither his abilities, nor having died for several minutes is the point. Instead, the last, and therefore most significant shot of Buck in this very Buddie domestic ep, is him smiling at their son. I feel like that says everything about his trajectory.

~~ (my weekly meta posts) (my Buddie gifs) (all of my content)

~~ My tag list will follow in the reblog, please let me know  if you wanna be added/removed here.

~~ Thank you so much for reading and for any reblog, like, comment or supportive tag! Also, HUGE thank you to @whosoldherout​. On top of real life stuff, she makes her own amazing gifs AND helps make these posts so much better. She’s the one with the real superpowers!

[defaulttwig]

Still Waters

Neteyam x gn!reader

Summary: As a human, you stand out among the Na’vi, more so now that you’ve arrived at the Metkayina village, where no humans are around. You’re treated differently, like some spectacle, and Neteyam comforts you when all the teasing gets to you.

Word Count: 4.3k

Warnings: none, puppy love, tiny bit of angst, fluff

A/N: Ending/Starting the year right with Avatar! My limited research might be dog ass and I forgot how to write so lollll brush over any mistakes I made. (This is more platonic but I guess could be romantic too)

“What else do you know?”

  Neteyam fell silent. He hummed once, sinking deep into his thoughts while he flexed his hands. He’d start one sign before stopping himself, as if he forgot all he learned, like a nonverbal form of stuttering. He racked his mind for a phrase, anything to say that would impress you. Not that it would be a challenge, but he also wanted to stick to simple phrases, things that you could remember and understand easily. It was endearing, really, how quickly he took to the role of teacher for you. 

  In the meantime, you looked down at your ankles, watching the water ripple and shift with every step you took. Still unfamiliar with the area, you kept to the outskirts of the village, walking along the shore. Despite your proximity to the village, the beauty here stole your breath. From the unique design of the village to the crystal reflection of the sun bouncing off the water’s surface. The water itself stretched far beyond the seawall bordering the reef, touching the horizon. Where the sky and sea became one, endlessly blue like the Na’vi you walked among. 

  Months had gone by since the Sully family left the Omaticaya clan. To you, a lifetime had passed before you heard anything from them, and it was when Norm received word of Kiri’s seizure. Of course, being close friends with the Sully children, you just had to see them. Norm hadn’t been keen to bring you along, but your admittedly immature begging and the stress of an immediate departure prompted him to give permission if only so he could finish packing gear without you delaying him precious seconds. Besides, another pair of hands on board to mule around gear didn’t hurt.

  Kiri was overjoyed to have you, squeezing you in a tight hug when she got the chance. She wasn’t the only one. All the Sully children swarmed you, asking about the clan and talking over each other to fill you in on everything they’ve been up to. It was quite the scene, their tails whipping excitedly while all of you bounced around each other, just so happy to be reunited.

  Days had passed since your arrival. You were lucky to spend more time with them, if not for the reason that Norm wished to monitor Kiri for the time being. Just to ensure she was stable. And then, you would leave with Norm. As much as it made you and the others sad to separate again, you’d been on the fence about their offer. They proposed that you stay with them in the village. An idea like that would take convincing from their parents and Norm, but together your big pouty faces would win them over. It was just that…despite the beauty and lack of danger from the RDA, you faced a different annoyance here. One you wouldn’t want to endure if you did stay.

  Your thoughts come to a halt when a prickly feeling tingled up your spine, sensing that you were being watched. You looked up and, in the distance, found a Metkayina child no taller than Tuk staring at you. Their face betrayed the wonder and distaste they felt about you. You locked eyes with them, even as another child approached them. Their ears twitched as the other whispered something and pointed at you indiscreetly. Their faces scrunched and they giggled to themselves. 

  A tightness squeezed your insides at their staring and blatant disregard for you. You hunched your shoulders in a poor attempt to make yourself invisible. Slowing your pace, you let Neteyam’s body dwarf you, acting as a wall to hide you from their gaze. You couldn’t shake the feeling that they still stared, even if their view was blocked. Looking back to the water as you walked calmly, you tried to preoccupy your mind with it.

  “There’s this one,” Neteyam said, prompting you to look up at him. His wide, cat-like eyes locked onto yours, making sure you paid attention. Then, moving his hands as he would in conversation, he translated for you. “Breathe.”

  You frowned. The purpose of their sign language was to communicate underwater. Why would they need to know how to say that? Or, maybe there was a reason but your negative thoughts wouldn’t let you think straight. “Underwater?”

  “Not exactly. More like saying to calm your heart.” Neteyam laid his hand on his stomach and demonstrated a long inhale. “To stay underwater longer, you need to relax.” He inhaled deeply through his nose and parted his lips, exhaling slowly. You watched his shoulders fall in tandem with his breath. With a smile, he pointed at your exopack. “Not that you need to worry about holding your breath.”

  Just as you were about to tease him, or brag about your one advantage underwater, you spotted the turquoise skin of a Metkayina in your peripheral vision. You pursed your lips and looked ahead to find a teen boy approaching you with a group following close behind. Neteyam saw them the same time you did, both of you stopping when they stood in front of you. To have all their eyes on you filled you with unease. You inched closer to Neteyam for the small amount of comfort his presence would provide.

  In your short time here, you learned quickly that the Metkayina here had rarely seen a human, if ever. The adults avoided you when they could and their tolerance had been understandable if a little hurtful. It was the younger ones, curious and rebellious to their parents' demands to stay away, that truly made you think twice about staying with the Sullys. They were overt in their distaste for your very existence. Compared to them, you were petite, weaker, and fragile. A rather lame alien. The coarse sound exerted from the exopack recycling oxygen reminded you of that.

  The apparent leader of the small group looked you up and down. He seemed to like that he looked down on you with his taller height. However, he didn’t address you like you were afraid he would. His eyes swept over to Neteyam, who watched him warily. “I didn’t know you had a pet.”

  Neteyam’s chin inclined in your direction. “My friend has a name and is no pet.”

  A Metkayina, who you didn’t realize was beside you, had crouched to touch your mask. “Does it bite?”

  “Hey!” You jerked away from her. Who knew if she would try to rip your mask off. She was smaller than Neteyam but still much taller than you. In your attempt to get away from her, you backed into another Metkayina about your height, who pinched your arm. You yelped and Neteyam, quick as a whip, whirled around as you backed into his personal space to escape the touches.

  His arm extended in front of you immediately, a sign to not touch. “Leave us alone.” He swiveled a hard stare at all of them before setting his hand on your shoulder. It was more so an attempt to ground himself than you. He didn’t want to resort to aggression unless they came any closer. “This isn’t a spectacle.”

  “It’s a tiny alien.” Someone in the back laughed. “Do you not see how weird it is?”

  Neteyam’s grip on your shoulder tightened a fraction. “You’re the weird ones. Go bother someone else.”

  Another muttered in the background, “I’m surprised it knows our language.”

  “It’s funny looking. Kind of ugly.”

  When none of them would budge, a few muttering amongst themselves rather demeaning and hurtful things that you heard, Neteyam fixed their unofficial leader with a look. The boy challenged him with a narrow of his eyes but Neteyam squared his shoulders, muscles taut and ready to make a point. If it had to come down to aggression for your sake, Neteyam might disobey his father just once. You watched the wheels turn in the leader’s mind, weighing the worth of a fight over a dumb alien.

  He scoffed and turned his head. “Whatever. It’s not worth it.”

  He stepped back, gaining the attention of his group. They all copied him, edging away from you. Finally, you could breathe again, free from their invasive closeness. You took a step away from Neteyam, allowing him his space. He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, keeping his body facing toward the group.

  A high-pitched voice called your name. Turning on your heel, your eyes locked onto the frantic waving of Tuk. She stood on the other end of the shore, a distance away from you two. With her were Tsireya, Kiri, and Lo’ak, all of them in waist-deep water. Further from them, you spotted Tsireya’s brother, whose name you sort of forgot, and his friend on a pair of ilu. Tuk smiled and waved even more when she realized she had your attention. You waved back.

  Neteyam gestured once with his head. “Come on. Let’s go.”

  You took the lead. Neteyam walked two steps behind you, keeping a watchful eye on the group. They seemed to disperse into little clusters by then, all glancing your way every so often. Their not-so-quiet whispers fluttered your way, not kind by any means. The laughter that followed made your face turn sour.

  Neteyam nudged you with his elbow. “Ignore them.”

  When you’d reached your friends, Tuk looked past you at where the scene took place. “What was that about?”

  Kiri shared a look with you. For her sister’s sake, she kept quiet. Lo’ak, however, frowned. Like his brother, he was contemptuous on your behalf. 

  “Didn’t look like a friendly meet-up,” he said.

  Neteyam only shook his head at his brother.

  Tsireya looked between all of you, a sad smile on her face. “Ignore them. They are merely curious, even if they handle themselves poorly. They’ll get used to you in time.”

  Tuk bounced to get your attention back to her. “We are going to take our ilu for a ride. Do you want to join us?”

  You put on a smile, trying to mimic her excitement. “Of course.”

  Sure, you were one big spectacle and had to endure the staring, but it wouldn’t stop you from enjoying the beauty of the reef people. Everything was so new and different. You followed your friends deeper into the water as they called for their mounts, waiting for Neteyam to mount his ilu before you took your place behind him.

  With an okay from you, everyone took off. You held tight to Neteyam as his ilu cut through the water at high speeds. Your head lay on his back as you tried to let go of your worries. All the things said about you, the weird stares, you let them roll off your back, leaving them behind in the water as the ilu swam on. If only it were as easy as swimming.

  Some things just don’t sink. They resurface.

  +:+:+:+:+

  If not accompanied by a Sully member or even hidden in the safety of their pod, you were subjected to prodding and teasing. Neteyam may have told them off (and Lo’ak may have been ready to get his hands dirty, if not for you latching onto him to keep his hands to himself) but that didn’t stop them when you were alone. You had no one to protect you, but you couldn’t be a burden and hide behind Neteyam forever. He had enough to worry about, you didn’t need to be another weight on his shoulders.

  You wanted to understand, you really did. Looking from yourself to them, you were an outsider. At least the Sully family were Na’vi. You were human; smaller, not even blue, and you were physically weaker than even a young Na’vi. You were beyond different and that sort of thing prompted strong emotions. Curiosity, fear, hate. Given how other humans handled their time on Pandora, you couldn’t blame them.

  But your being alone made you an easy target. Humans in great numbers were a threat. A single human, however, could not do much against the Na’vi. You had to deal with their nasty teasing and rudeness. It weighed heavy on your heart. Maybe you would leave with Norm when the time came. 

  “I thought I’d find you out here.”

  You nearly sank underwater, losing your concentration momentarily. Turning your head, you foundNeteyam standing over where you floated. Of course, where the water was deep for you, it only reached his chest. You considered how he snuck up on you. Ripples of water calm and hardly disturbed, you imagined he’d adapted well to life on the reef.

  You did a backstroke, putting a bit of distance between you. “What are you doing out here?”

  “I could ask the same of you.” He inched further into the water, pushing up on his arms when he could no longer touch the floor. You continued to swim away from him slowly, but he still gravitated to you. “It’s late.”

  “Your parents will freak when they find you missing.”

  “Maybe.” He made a half attempt to shrug in the water. His eyes looked past you for a moment before he swam ahead, causing you to turn to keep an eye on him. “Want to see something?”

  Neteyam waited no longer than three seconds, already knowing your answer. Taking one big breath, he dove underwater. You flipped onto your stomach, looking into the water with the protection of your exopack. There he was, swimming away from the shallows, deeper into the reef. That didn’t pull your attention though.

  You’d seen it before, from the surface, but the bioluminescence of aquatic life stole your breath. Neteyam’s alien freckles glowed along his skin. He was one with the environment, looking all the more like he belonged. More than you, who probably looked like a human blob shape up on the surface. He flipped around and looked up at you, waving for you to come down. Even if you couldn’t glow in the dark, surrounding yourself with glowing fauna underwater seemed fun.

  You inverted your body, cutting through the water with each stroke of your arms. Propelling toward Neteyam, you focused on the glow of his freckles as he floated in place watching you. When you neared, he continued down until you were both far enough from the shallow waters before floating listlessly on the ocean floor. You joined his side, close enough that you can speak.

  “What-” A blur of color entered your peripheral and you flinched. 

  Your head snapped in its direction and a school of fish smaller than your hand swam past. Their bodies, striped in a glow of orange and purple, wiggled between you two to a destination only they knew. One’s eye lazily locks onto you before facing forward. You waved your hands through the water, using the movement to keep you in one place as you watched the fish.

  Neteyam only smiled at you from the other side. When the school of fish had passed, he waved for you to follow once more. At a pace that you could keep to his side without much effort, he directed you past all sorts of bioluminescent flora and fauna.

  Approaching a bed of anemones, you watched their tendrils sway gently. Undisturbed. One fish had dared to come out of the tendrils, only to dart back to its shelter at the sight of you. Even still, the tendrils danced to the rhythm of the sea, unbothered by your presence, unlike its small inhabitants.

  You spun around to say something to Neteyam, only to find him missing. You twisted in a circle, confused. Daring to look up, a dark silhouette with white dots swam to the surface. You brought your arms over your head and propelled yourself up.

  He remained above to catch his breath, kicking languidly to stay afloat. The movement of his tail appeared stiff in the water, you realized. It did not move on its own, but rather with the current of the water. When you’d gotten halfway up, he dove back down. Neteyam swam your way and you stopped. Except, he brushed past you with a wave.

  You whirled around and down. “Wait, Neteyam.” Confusion laced your voice.

  Your friend only looked over his shoulder before swimming on.

  You huffed and repositioned yourself to hurry after him.

  In your attempt to catch up to him, he swam faster. Despite him not being built for the water, you were even less equipped. Your arms and legs ached for a break, for which you attempted to get his attention. Just when you thought you had him, he slowed to turn around and face you.

  “Finally,” you breathed out a little too early.

  There was mirth in his eyes as he smiled toothily for a brief moment. Whatever he was about to do, you wanted no part of it. You shook your head. He nodded. You reached out to stop him but he swam in reverse. When you tried again, he swam around a large coral structure, momentarily putting it between you.

  It became a game, him trying to keep away. You chased after him, kicking off sturdy coral and rocks for an advantage, but he’d managed to skim by every time, narrowly avoiding your clutches. The one time you’d reached out, barely grasping his tail. You hadn’t meant to, letting go the moment there was a pull. He whipped around and faced you with your hands up in surrender. Then, with his hands raised in warning, he slowly inched toward you. The nerves of the role reversal had a laugh bubble in your throat.

  And so, you swam away from him. The aches were long forgotten, you’d frantically kicked and cut through the water to put distance between you two. You’d gone in circles, the reef now your obstacle course. A school of fish, larger than the ones before, swam at you. It’d been a mistake to stop and put your arms up in defense.

  The group split in half and swam around you. Your moment of hesitation was more than enough for Neteyam to catch up. With another anxious laugh, you’d tried to swim away, but he’d grabbed you. He spun you widely to the side, earning a laugh once he’d let go. You floated to a stop, giggles lowering to silence.

  Neteyam looked you in the eye. His face turned serious. You dropped your act too, brows now furrowed. It was then that you realized how much the exopack had suctioned to your face while underwater from the pressure.

  “What’s wrong,” you asked.

  He made a series of signs with his hands, not that you’d understand. Though, thanks to his short and simple lessons of what he knew, you picked up one word. Sad. The dots had connected in your mind. He was asking about earlier, how you’ve been just that after your arrival. Sad.

  You denied it outright with a shake of your head. If you feigned ignorance, maybe this conversation wouldn’t have happened. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m not sad.”

  His head tilted with furrowed brows in a show of disbelief. He repeated that specific sign again with a firm nod. Sad. You are sad, was what you interpreted. And maybe he was right but you felt silly and lame about why. You open your mouth to deny again but are disrupted by a lone fish swimming past. It’s all alone.

  You tear your gaze from the fish and sigh, sinking low until your feet touch down on some sea grass. It brought a shiver up your back but you didn’t care enough to move away. “Maybe I am sad, a little, but it’s nothing.” No, you thought to yourself, now that you started. It was something, something that affected you deeply. You frowned. “I’m different. I’m a human. Back home I have other humans and the clan is nice but here I’m looked down on and I feel so alone.”

  You reached out and grabbed one of his hands for emphasis, holding it up beside your own. In doing so, you distracted yourself. Your eyes settled on the shape of his hand, the size of it compared to your own. Your voice grew quiet as you curled your fingers into your hand. “I wish I was like you. It’s hard being different. A completely different alien species. I don’t think I should stay here.”

  Neteyam pulled his hand back and said more that you didn’t catch. You shook your head to tell him as such, catching the word ‘time.’ He had to have said something about them taking time to get to know you. To get used to you.

  You bristled then. Time was indefinite and abstract. It could take weeks, months, or years. All thoughts of how the Metkayina thought of you warped your understanding of the Omaticayans and their kindness. Maybe they saw you as an animal too, like a wild pet. Maybe they liked the other humans but not you.

  Neteyam lifted his hand and touched his fingers to his forehead. You lost focus, unattentive to his next move. Instead, you ranted, muttered, rambled a tangent of unkind thoughts, and connected dots that wouldn’t be there if you were in a rational state. You’d endured too much of the mean-spirited teasing.

  You took to floating again, waving your limbs about to expel your anger as you ranted. In doing so, your body jerked suddenly. Something slimy wrapped around your ankle. You snapped your head down, finding that your kicking managed to get your foot tangled in seagrass. You thrashed your foot, unable to get it out.

  Before you could fall into a self-afflicted rage, Neteyam touched your shoulder. He swam down and gently took hold of your ankle, effectively ceasing your kicking. Then, he tugged on the seagrass, ripping it off of you bit by bit. You watched as he did so, falling silent. By the time he freed your foot, you’d lost your anger, doused by the sounds of your exopack, the water, and the gentleness and care Neteyam regarded you with.

  You locked eyes with him. He reached up for his forehead once again with a soft expression before he paused. His fingers touched his throat and he pointed up. He wanted to go up for air. You nodded and, this time swam up with him.

  He breached the surface first. Your head popped up shortly after, the hiss of your exopack’s reserves undermined by the deep inhales Neteyam took. He blinked several times as he caught his breath, his ears flicking oddly. All the while he kept eye contact with you, a glint of emotion passing over his normally passive face.

  Neteyam swam closer. He blurted breathlessly, “I see you.”

  You froze, forgetting how to swim for a moment. Your head ducked underwater before your body went on autopilot, aching limbs propelling you up to the surface once again. Your eyes widened to the size of saucers. You heard him wrong.

  “I see you,” he repeated firmly, confident in his own voice.

  Your face underwent a myriad of emotions. Wide-eyed in disbelief to furrowing your brows. Face twisting and morphing until your expression softened. He saw you. 

  Hearing Neteyam say that removed all your woes. Sure, you still cared how the Metkayinans treated you but Neteyam managed to drive away most of your negative thoughts with three simple words. You floated with the water, and your body was more relaxed than your underwater tantrum. You were seen, difference and all, for better or worse. You had no need to be paranoid or vie for validation and acceptance by everyone when you had Nete.

  You were seen. You were here before him, perceived with nothing but care. He accepted you and for that you trusted him. Closing your eyes, your cheeks pulled taut from your growing smile. “I am here,” you said. All of what you were stood, or floated, right before him, seen for the human you were and welcomed. He and his family had always and will forever welcome you as one of their own.

  You opened your eyes feeling lighter than air, but not from the water. “Thank you, Nete. And I see you.”

  You saw your differences. His blue skin, his height, all the physical discrepancies that made you unique. Different but not unwelcome. 

  Neteyam swam closer as he opened his mouth to say more, but a single clap made you both whip your heads.

  Jake stood by the edge of the dock, staring down at you both. “What are you two doing out this late?” His voice carried that disciplinary undertone of a concerned father. “I thought something happened to you.”

  Neteyam lowered his head in some form of a bow. “Sorry, sir.”

  “Out of the water, both of you.” He shook his head.

  Neteyam swam first. Following him, you two cut through the calm waters until you climbed up the dock. Jake stood waiting while you adjusted your exopack. Now that you were on the surface, its suction had become a bother for you. You loosened the straps of your mask by a hair, the suction now less abrasive to your skin.

  The older Na’vi had you two walk in front of him back to the family pod. Until you and Neteyam were both in your respective hammocks, then he climbed into his own and turned his back to you. You flipped onto your side and shared a look with Neteyam. He gave a small smile before closing his eyes. You followed his example, falling asleep soon after.

  In the morning, you would agree to the Sullys proposal. You wanted to stay with them.

[tough-n-dumb]

lullabies

this ficlet is shamelessly inspired by the ending of No Reason to Be Afraid by @insignificant457 because i couldn't get inej wishing kaz a goodnight out of my head. thank you for writing this beautiful pre-canon fic—all credit goes to you!

“Goodnight,” she calls after him, then winces. Goodnight? You’ve just joined a gang, Inej, have a little dignity. He pauses, already halfway out of view, then leans back to look around the doorframe, his eyebrows drawn together in confusion. “Goodnight,” he says stiffly. She gives him a weak smile, which he registers before leaving without further comment.

Read below or read on AO3

It becomes a habit; a nightly routine. A goodnight, Kaz her closing remarks of most evenings—or sometimes in the dark and early hours of the morning, depending on the day. More often than not, he’ll murmur it back. If he doesn’t, she’ll give him a little tsk and a hushed, chiding manners before slipping out the window. 

They spend more time together than she thought they would—probably more than he thought as well. But after jobs, she begins to linger, the windowsill in his attic rooms now her designated perch. From it, she can watch both him and the city like the spy he’s crafting her into. She likes to dangle her feet into the cool air and observe the stars that burst through Ketterdam’s cloudy sky. They’re in different places in the night sky here than in the Ravkan plains and mountains, but the constellations are familiar. She is so far from home, but the longer she spends in the Slat, in her perch in this dangerous boy’s room, the more the definition of home starts to change (though for her, home has always been other people). 

She sometimes uses variations like sleep well or sweet dreams though she knows he’ll most likely have neither. She tries not to worry about that; tries not to listen to his pacing above her, the way his bed will creak in the middle of the night from him tossing and turning. She can only imagine what he sees when he closes his eyes in the dark. She understands what it’s like to face your demons even in sleep. 

When she uses these softer variations, he’ll often smirk and offer a wry remark in return. Something along the lines of, “What’s next Wraith, you’ll sing me lullabies?”

“Maybe if you ask nicely,” she shoots back. She gets comfortable, teasing him like this, and it pleases her that he doesn’t seem to let anyone else get away with it. 

But what neither of them know—and how could they?—is that years down the line when those same nightmares come knocking she will do just that, lending him the lilting words her parents sang to lull her to sleep whispered into his hair, the rich Suli consonants curling around them in the darkness. Their voices, they find, are one of the best ways to bring each other back from the crumbling ledge of their memories—though they’ve always known to some degree that that was the case. 

One night, she’s reclined on the sill, legs stretched out and head tilted back, the warmth of summer bathing over her even after the sun has set. She yawns and rubs her eyes, and when she opens them, Kaz is staring at her. He clears his throat and looks away, shuffling some papers on his desk in a manner she knows is just for show. 

“Go rest, Inej.” It’s a dismissal, but not an unkind one. Simply a directive. She nods, rubs her eyes once more and sits up all the way, about to wish him a goodnight when—

“Goodnight. Sleep well.” He mumbles it while still staring down at his mess of papers. 

She freezes and lowers her hands, a big smile spreading on her face. 

“What was that?”

“Go to bed, Inej.”

“Oh, no, that’s not what you said.” She is absolutely grinning now, much too pleased that she’s taught her Barrel boy niceties. She thinks his face is slowly turning pink, the tips of his ears bright with color. 

When he finally looks up at her, she feels her chest tighten at the sight. His eyes are so dark they’re nearly black in the room’s low light. The shadows crease his face into hard lines, but yes, there it is—a high blush spreading across his sharp cheeks. 

“Goodnight,” he finally repeats. “And have the sweetest of dreams, darling.” He’s injected a gratuitous amount of sarcasm into the words, but the way his eyes dart over her face—and, she thinks, settle on her lips before he looks back down at his desk—gives him away. 

“Goodnight, Kaz,” she says before slipping into the night. Tonight, she isn’t plagued with her usual nightmares. Tonight, she dreams of a leather-clad hand in hers, warmed by the sun, and sea breeze in her hair.

[idontplaytrack]

Regina(big sister of reader) connects the dots and realizes reader has a massive crush on Janis

Some fighting

Good ending 🫡

Crush

Janis ‘Imi’ike x fem! reader(+ older sister Regina)

Warnings: coarse language, reader & Regina quarrel a little

In which Regina steps up and becomes reader’s wingwoman when reader’s crush on a certain someone becomes annoying (in Regina’s terms)

Part two / Part three

(Pictures used are from Pinterest & Auli’i’s IG)

After your Mom and Dad split up, you and your sister’s bond only grew stronger. Individually, you could still love your parents to an extend, and definitely appreciated them for what they’ve given you and Regina. But everything was still tumultuous so you and your sister have learnt over the years to stay away from them as much as possible. As a result, Regina pretty much paid for your food, new clothes and even your phone bill. Heck, she was the one who got you a proper working phone after a four-year old handed down device from your Mom had become absolutely just useless. You never asked for anything unless you needed it, but she would always get you a little something every now and then without telling you anything.

Regina was two years older than you, so when you first started high school, she was already in junior year. And that was the craziest year of all to you. Not just because of the Burn Book wrecking total havoc in her year but also the first time you’ve seen someone in a damn long time. You walked into school with Regina on one of your first morning of freshmen year, eyes curiously observing your surroundings. You had completely stopped in your tracks when your gaze fell on a familiar face. You couldn’t tell who it was, but definitely knew who it was.

Let’s put it this way…your brain couldn’t remember but your heart sure did. “Who are you looking at?” Regina noticed, closing her locker after getting out a book she needed.

“Is that— um, what’s her name? Wasn’t she your best friend?”

“Oh, that’s Janis. Yes, we were friends. Probably why you recognise her because she used to come over a lot and you would always cling onto her like a koala bear or something.”

“Are you still on that?” You grumbled, “I was four.”

“What did you want?”

“I don’t know. Reintroduce myself? I don’t know anyone here except you and Cady.”

“I could help with that.” Regina shrugs, “You…just go up to her and say hello.”

“Uh…no way, Regina.” You scoff, studying your schedule closely, “Where’s room 217?”

“I’ll take you there. Just go say hi.”

“Not doing that, just take me to the classroom.” You sigh.

“Whatever.” Regina smirked, “Let’s go then.”

Being in different years, the sisters obviously did not have any classes together. But, they did run into each other again at lunch since they had their break at the same time-slot. You had no one to sit with, so you just found a table in the corner and settled down to eat while Regina sat with her friends and Cady. “Hey.” You heard a voice walking up behind you. Your back stiffens as you sat up. Hold on…

You turned around and you saw her getting closer to you. “Wow, I thought I saw you earlier.” She says. “Haven’t seen you in forever. y/n, right?”

“Janis.” You chuckled, “Hi.”

“Mind if I join you?”

“Not at all, go ahead.” You shrug, trying to keep it cool.

She sits down opposite you, “So…how’s your first day so far?”

“Made a friend, we don’t have lunch together though. My two best friends from middle school got assigned to a different high school, so it kinda sucks a little to have to start all over.”

“Ah, just take it easy and let things happen on its own. Don’t stress yourself out over things that you can’t really control, you’ll meet the right people with time.”

You hummed, shrugging your shoulders as you stabbed the food with your fork and ate some of it.

“You know, I remember when you were probably like— 3 or 4. And you would always cling onto me while me and Regina played board games or cards or something.” Janis mentions.

“Oh, my God— you remember that too? Regina keeps bringing it up to make fun of me.” You sigh, but couldn’t help it and laughed a little anyway.

Janis grins, “I thought it was sweet that you trusted me that much.”

“Is that so?” You guffawed.

“Oh, very much so.” She nods, “I don’t have siblings so having you to dote on the way I did was great.”

Siblings. Well, what a weird feeling you were having in your heart right now. Staring at your tray, you twirled the spaghetti with your fork, avoiding her eyes.

Pushing that feeling aside, you soon continued to chat with Janis for the remainder of lunch, saying bye to her when the two of you went your separate ways to your respective classes.

————

After classes were all done for the day, you made your way to the parking lot to wait for your sister by her Jeep as discussed. You waited just a few minutes before she showed up with Cady. “Hi, y/n!” Cady waved at you cheerfully.

“Hey!” You smiled in return, getting into the car when the both of them did.

“How was your day?” Regina asked casually as she started to drive away from school grounds.

“It was okay, Janis talked to me at lunch, I made a friend in my art class.”

“Good— wait—” Regina nearly gasped but stopped herself, “She did?”

“Almost made a fucking fool of myself.”

“What? It couldn’t be that bad, you guys know each other.”

“The last time I saw her, I was 10. It’s been four years.” You glared at your sister, “You know what the first thing she brought up was? Exactly what you mentioned this morning.”

“Come on, bubs. It was cute.”

“Yes! Because I was four.” You groaned, “Did you remind her?”

“Hey, we’re not close like we used to be. Don’t overestimate either of us.”

“What…what are you guys talking about?” Cady asks, confused.

“She took forever trying to figure out who Janis was this morning. But that’s beside the point, what she’s referring to is, I told her how she used to always basically climb onto Janis and snuggle while I was trying to hang out with my best friend.”

“Oh, enough.”

“y/n, what’s the big —”

“You better watch it.” You warned.

“Ooh.” Regina glances at you with wide eyes, “Moody much. Cramps?”

“Shut up.” You huffed, crossing your arms as you looked outside while she drives.

You got home and just went straight to your room. Regina sighs, “I don’t even wanna know what’s going on.”

“She’s upset.” Cady pointed out, “She clearly didn’t want you to tell people that. You didn’t need to tell me.”

“It’s not a big deal, though. She always laughs at that and suddenly today she has a problem with it?”

“Well, things change?” Cady sat down, Regina does so as well.

“I only told you. I didn’t tell anyone else, so what I don’t get it why she’s so pissed off— oh my God.”

“What?” Cady asks, panicking a little inside.

“She said she almost made a fool of herself at lunch. Janis was with her.”

“So…”

“Do you think she likes Janis?” Regina gasped, “Like actually, has feelings for her?”

“I mean, it’s a possible explanation as to why she had such a big reaction to something she usually couldn’t care less about.”

“Janis talked to her.” Regina continued, “Janis doesn’t just talk to somebody.”

“She talked to your sister. Someone she knows.” Cady says.

“Not after four years of being practically strangers.” Regina smirks.

“What on Earth are you planning, Regina?” Cady asked nervously.

“Do you think…it’s possible that Janis would go out on a date with y/n?”

“I mean…”

“I’m gonna go talk to y/n. One sec.”

That did not go well, you two ended up yelling at each other and that subject subsequently got dropped. You cried yourself to sleep that night, not because Regina yelled at you, but because you were afraid Regina was right. That she was right about you having a raging crush on Janis. This was what scared you, you didn’t want to admit it because it will make you act more awkward around her. It was as if when she said it, it became real to you. So you freaked out and yelled back at her. Regina screamed back at you, frustrated and you told her to leave you alone so she did.

Fast forward to present day, six months after your first day at North Shore. Things have been okay with you and Regina after like a week, but since then, every time you somehow spent time with Janis(and Damian), you became so hyper aware of your feelings for the girl. And how your cheeks seem to heat up when you saw her, how you could barely look her in the eye when she talked to you. How nervous you felt. It was ridiculous. You felt like a crazy person in her presence. Each school day felt terribly long, and you couldn’t wait to get home every day.

“Okay, y/n. Honestly, you’re being way too stressed out about this.” Regina declared. “Sit down.”

“Like you weren’t this way with Cady.” You shot back. “I remember it, okay?”

“Let me help you.” She continues, unfazed.

“How? You don’t like her, still.”

“Do you have her number?”

“Yes, why?” You eyed her suspiciously.

“I could text her for you. Ask her out?”

“Are you crazy?!” You shrieked.

“Maybe a little.” Regina laughs, amused. “But I can definitely help you out, okay? I get it, you feel insane trying to keep calm. But nothing works— I get that. It’s very frustrating, but once you take that first step, everything just falls into place.”

“You can’t be so sure, Regina.”

“What makes you think that?” She squinted at you.

“She said, and I quote ‘I don’t have siblings so having you to dote on the way I did was great.’ So, Regina…do you still think I have a chance?”

“Yes.” Regina said confidently.

“I can’t— okay? What if I just make an even bigger fool out of myself? What if she rejects me and just cuts me off?”

“Okay, first thing’s first. You need to take some deep breaths and calm the hell down because we didn’t even do anything about the situation yet.” Regina started. “Give me your phone.”

“Must I?”

“Do you want to get your girl or not, y/n?” She spoke through gritted teeth, holding out her hand for you to put your phone in it. You surrendered it to her, “Match my tone, please? That’s all I’m asking.”

“I’m not an amateur, relax, y/n.”

“There. It’s done— didn’t even take her a minute to respond.” Regina smirks, “She asked you where you’d like to hang out.”

“Oka— what?!” You stared at her, stunned, “Really?”

“Yeah— look.” She handed your phone back to you.

“Where do you think—”

“Honey, that’s your choice.” Regina nudged.

You thought about it for a while then decided on just going to the mall. You two could grab a lunch then watch a movie, whatever works best for that day, you guessed.

“Oh, God.” You muttered, “What do I wear?!”

“Oh, you poor thing.” Regina teased, “You just wear whatever you like, be yourself. She’ll love it.”

“Yeah, yeah, thanks.”

————

Well, Friday night you stayed up late texting Janis. You weren’t even sure how it started but you guys were nearly three hours into the conversation.

You were this close to tossing your phone across the room after sending her your response with that emoji. But when she replied, your worries went away, and you get sucked back into the conversation quickly enough. Eventually, she tells you to go to bed.

Were you seeing things? Did she just send you a heart?! Nearly squealing, you rolled over, face down in your pillow to muffle the noise. Needless to say, you went to sleep the happiest you’ve felt, probably ever.

Oh, and…

🏷️ Tag list:

@ashecampos @auliisflower @cheesysoup-arlo @frogs00 @ludoesartnstuffs @pda128

💭A/N:

Uh so…part 2?

(Yes I gave Janis a Hawaiian name)

[fortheloveoffanfic]

Broken Chords: See how it shines

Hozier x fem!reader

Author's note: this is late cause I spaced on making a mood board.

Summary: 6 weeks after they last saw each other, Andrew can’t seem to get past his and Y/n’s last exchange in New York. In a last-ditch effort to save their relationship, Andrew makes a long distance call from Paris.

Warnings: just angst.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

The first moments after she walks out of the dressing room feels like hell. But then Andrew reminds himself that hell was when she’d left him the first time, so this must be something worse. This sharp ache in his chest, the rawness in his throat, the heat on his skin and the blur of his vision must be worse. When Y/n had left the first time – if one could really call it that since they’ve never officially lived together – it had come as a shock to him. He hadn’t expected it, and there was a period of disbelief before reality had set in.

But this time is different; this time, the image of her looking up at him with glassy eyes is scored into his mind, and he keeps seeing her walking out of the dressing room every time he shuts his eyes. Its all still fresh and often, when he thinks about it, a sense of panic rises up in his chest. She’s gone, its over; he recognizes the fact immediately. There’s no tricking himself into thinking that Y/n will come back because she’ll want the copy of Anna Karenina she left on his bookshelf. There are no parts of her in that sterile room, the warmth of her fingers have faded from his and the gentle way her perfume has stained the air is gone.

The room smells cold, in a way that almost burns his nose – or maybe it's the struggle to not sob that causes the uncomfortable sensation.

And even after the moment is gone, another memory occupied by a person he doesn’t quite recognize, Andrew can’t shake the question she’d asked him;

“What more did you need to see?”

What more does he need to see? What was he looking for that Y/n didn’t give him?

Nothing.

The answer hasn’t changed since he first thought it over. Every night, swallowed by pitch darkness, Andrew stares up at nothing, unable to keep his eyes shut for longer than a couple seconds while the moment plays on a repeat in his mind. It's like a scene from a movie he’s seen a million times but he can never remember the names of the actors. Awfully familiar, just not familiar enough.

What more does he need to see?

Laying in a hotel room in Paris, Andrew repeatedly asks himself the question. And he keeps coming up with the same answer; nothing. Everything Y/n is has always been more than he could ever imagine needing. She’s been at his side through the best of things, and offered him solace when he’s at his worst. So many of his secrets are now hers too.

God, his parents adore her. Jon says she’s the sister he never had. How many people get that lucky?

How many people don’t realize that they are that lucky because they’re too busy shielding themselves from a blow that just isn’t gonna come?

Sitting up and slumping against the cool, wooden headboard, he scrubs his hand over his face and then threads his fingers through his messy curls. It's three am, he’s jetlagged and its obvious sleep isn’t in his immediate future. And all he can think about is how far down a precipice he’s sent the best relationship he’s ever had.

He should tell her he's sorry.

In fact, not should; he must tell her. Right now. Before another hour passes without her knowing that he is so incredibly sorry and remorseful that its keeping him awake. That even if she doesn’t take him back – because she probably will not – he knows she deserves better and that he’s willing to work on being better because she’s worth that and an eternity’s more.

He doesn’t care that its three am in Paris or twelve am in Los Angeles. She needs to know; a little piece of his sanity ebbs away for every second that she doesn't.

He reaches for his phone on the bedside table. It doesn’t take too much effort to find it, and Andrew doesn’t even need to turn on the lamp because the hotel they’ve chosen is in the thick of the city, and his room overlooks the sleepless stretch that bounds towards the Eiffel tower. Yellow lights from the surrounding buildings, blurred by the sheer curtains that guard the double doors that lead to the small balcony, washes his room in a pale, golden hue.

She’d love this was, uncoincidentally, his first thought when he’d first noticed. He doesn’t know why, but when he thought it, Andrew had tried to take a picture of the room, it's not like he’ll ever get to show her. But his phone couldn’t seem to capture the lighting right, and he gave up.

Unlocking the screen, Andrew pulls up her number and allows himself another moment of contemplation. He isn’t even sure that she’ll answer – he doesn’t have any right to the comfort of her voice, much less her forgiveness. But he owes himself the possibility, right?

Maybe not.

But he's already hit call, so it doesn’t even matter anymore.

It rings three times. Three seconds. He holds his breath and his heart is racing. The familiar sound is weighed down by the chance of making it to her voicemail recording. Andrew quickly determines that if it gets there, he’s going to hang up before the message starts, because he doesn’t want to hear her cheery voice relaying that awfully generic message.

“Hey, its Y/n. Leave a message!”

No. He won’t leave a message because what he has to say can not be articulated in three minutes.

Four rings.

“Hello?” When he hears her breathy greeting coming through the line, Andrew involuntarily sucks in a sharp breath.

“Ehm…..” How is he even supposed to start this thing? Perhaps he would have been much better off getting on a plane and flying to L.A, because at least then his greeting wouldn’t be reduced to a measly; “hey, its me.”

On her end, he can hear music playing, it isn't loud and he guesses that she’s put some distance between herself and its source. “I know,” Y/n returns after a handful of tense seconds, “I saw your name on the…..”

“Right, right.” He lapses into silence as he gathers what he wants to say. He’s sorry, he wants to be better, if she’ll give him one more chance he knows he can change. Right, that's a perfectly logical order for things.

Except, the nerves seize him and the minute he opens his mouth, he fumbles. “I want to change. I need to change.”

He needs some fresh air too because suddenly, the room feels suffocating.

“What?” Andrew can hear her confusion as he swings his legs out of bed, planting his feet on the carpeted floor, padding over to the double French doors, easing one side open. A rush of temperate, autumn air nips at his face as Andrew is met with the city in all of its beauty. The dazzling tower off in the distance, the twinkle of hotels, restaurants and apartments spread out before him, turning the sky inky.

It isn’t like this in Wicklow; here, even the night is racked with the buzz of life. Y/n, his city girl, would fit right in.

He’ll never forget how in awe she was when she spent her first night in Wicklow; the amount of stars in the sky, the soft, barely-there, hum of wildlife at the back of his house, the slosh of waves in the distance, far enough to not elicit the sort of anxiety that the ocean does, close enough to lull you to sleep with the rhythmic ‘swish’ as it slops against the rocky shore. She said she hadn't thought that a place could be so quiet. Quiet enough to make you really have to pay attention to your thoughts.

So quiet that you hear your partner's breathing settle in time with yours.

So quiet that you can't help but notice when they're not there anymore, and the loneliness quickly becomes maddening, so you start leaving the television on at night.

“I said I need to change,” he finally repeats, “I…..you asked what more I needed to see.” When he notes a bout of loud laughter in the background, he quickly realizes that she’s probably out with some friends. Maybe colleagues. Maybe someone new that she’s seeing.

“Am I interrupting something?” He asks, hoping she’ll permit him to continue.

The sounds backing her voice become a bit more distant as she says dismissively, “nothing important. Andy,” she sighs heavily and his heart quickens when she calls him that. So many people call him that – family, close friends, even some of his neighbors – but it sounds different when she does it. His logical mind begs that it's simply her accent, but it must be more, he often thinks. It's the hitch in her breath when she starts that ‘ah’ sound. It's the way when she calls out to him, always gentle and soothing.

And tonight, it's the relief that comes with hearing it after he thought he'd lost the pleasure forever.

“What's going on here?”

“I've been thinking,” licking his lips, he leans against the railing. He fixes his tired gaze on a building a block over. It isn’t particularly tall, it isn’t really anything special at all. The only reason he can see it is because there’s a street lamp right in front of it, offering it the most angelic glow. “You asked what more I needed to see before I could commit to you. And its nothing.”

“I don’t understand,” she sighs.

“I don’t have to see, or know or learn anything else for me to realize that I need you in my life,” he swallows thickly, “I want to be better, give you…..commitment. And I’m so sorry didn’t realize it before, I should've – you gave me so much and I just…..I couldn’t even call you my girlfriend,” he pauses; he really needs to steel himself if he’s going to ask for another chance after ripping up her heart, “I know I don’t deserve it, I don’t even have the right to ask, but…..if you could ever bring yourself to give me another chance, things would be different.”

Y/n is quiet for a while, so long that Andrew has to check his phone to make sure they haven’t been disconnected – or she hasn’t hung up on him. Eventually, she sighs heavily and he straightens his back; he’s waiting for the crush that comes when she says it doesn’t matter. He’s already set himself up for the moment where she condemns him to hell.

But it doesn’t come.

“I don’t wanna talk about this over the phone,” Y/n says softly, and then there’s another bout of silence, “you’re in Paris, right?”

“Yeah,” he breathes.

“And then where?”

“Italy.”

Again, there’s nothing for a minute. “Right,” she hums. He swears he can see her, thinking on whatever’s going through her mind, tongue darting out briefly to lick her lips, brows furrowed and head bent slightly. He loves the way she looks when she does that, even if she’s just trying to remember where she left her phone Y/n adopts this very pensive expression, that makes it seem like she’s got the world on her mind. “What're you doing after that?”

“I’ll be home for a while,” he swears he’s told her all of this before, when they’d collided in Los Angeles, for dinner at her hotel and a romp before he was off again, but she must've forgotten. Or she’s using menail chatter to fill the time it takes to decide if she really should meet with him.

“I’ll be in Paris by the end of next week…..for this thing,” she says with such nonchalance that one would never guess that she’s actually referring to a career altering event. “But you’ll be….in Ireland, by then right?”

“Right,” he confirms.

Andrew’s heart leaps into his throat; he didn’t expect that. Not that he’s complaining – it isn’t in his make-up to be able to resist a chance to see her. If she’s offering, then he will oblige. “I’d love that,” his words are all too hasty, yet he can’t even bring himself to quell the eagerness. “Ehm, if you send me your flight details, I'll pick you up at the airport.”

“What if I…..visited? My thing will only a few days, and I'll have some free time after."

“Okay,” she offers meekly.

“Okay,” he mirrors, “we can-” but before he can suggest that they keep in contact during the week, the line clicks dead. Blowing a breath from the ‘o’ of his lips, Andrew shudders and slumps his weight against the wrought iron railing guarding the left side of the little, rectangular space. Holding the phone at his side, he keeps his gaze trained towards the glittering city.

His city girl, he breaks into a faint, wistful smile at the thought of her and its the first time in six damn weeks that the idea of Y/n hasn’t made his eyes prickle or his throat feel tight. The memory of her walking out of the door is slowly being replaced by the image of her with yellow flecks reflected in her eyes, dancing in them like embers on a campfire. Y/n is beside him, her bare shoulder brushing his sleeve and while she stands in awe of the city, seemingly shrunken below them, Andrew is looking at her. She’s wearing green again, a silk, sort of Grecian style dress and there’s something about her slightly agape lips, and the shadows that the combination of low lighting and her long lashes cast on her cheek bones, that makes him gasp quietly;

He swears he’s never seen anyone so beautiful.

Thinking back on it, he must’ve fallen for her that night – the night they met. He hasn’t stopped since then.

[unformula1]

loscar prompt!: them with tis the damn season by taylor swift

’tis the damn season (LS2 x OP81)

oscar comes back to his hometown, with a regret he can’t find closure to. w/c: 3402 day 41 of loscar posts until we get a loscar podium! (series masterlist) masterlist title from a taylor swift song a/n: HI! whoever gave me this, if this isn’t what you wanted PLEASE do not be afraid to reach out and ask for a rewrite lol!!!

Oscar drives down the street he used to walk past every day. The town he used to call home seems a little emptier now. It’s freezing, which fogs up his car windshield glass, turning it a foggy, translucent colour. 

He gets out of his car after parking it, deciding to go for a stroll.

Oscar can’t remember the last time he came back here, it had probably been a few years. He throws on his coat and walks down the sidewalk, as he lifts his head, a familiar face comes into view.

Oscar avoids eye contact as he walks past, keeping his head down as he walks past him. It sends a shiver down his spine as he walks past; even with his jacket an eerie cold engulfs his body.

An ache covers his heart. Oscar wants to say something. He can’t.

He swiftly walks past, trying his best to suppress the flashbacks that keep coming back as the familiar perfume clings onto his jacket after walking past him.

Oscar can’t do this. He takes off, bolting as far as he can. He feels the eyes on him, piercing into his soul. 

Oscar remembers everything. He remembers it all. 

—

“You promised.” Logan says, an obvious attempt to hide his tears, “You said you wouldn’t go.”

“Logan. I know, but it’s a really big opportunity for me.” Oscar tries to reason, with both Logan and himself. 

“You said you’d wait for me.” Logan continues, a pool of tears brimming in his eyes.

“Logan… I will.” Oscar almost feels like he’s gaslighting himself right now.

“We should’ve been going together.” Logan cries, a heavy emphasis on ‘together’.

“Logan please-” Oscar gets cut off as Logan runs out through the door.

That was the last time they ever talked. Oscar didn’t even bother going back to apologise. He just left… like the jerk he was.

—

When the coast is clear, Oscar walks back to his car, quickly getting in without being seen.

He takes a deep breath and leans back against his car seat. 

He quickly starts up his car and drives further into the city, something in his body wants him to leave but he isn’t ready to leave yet.

He reaches somewhere nearer to the city, it has cafes, restaurants, libraries. It’s a simple life, which Oscar will admit he misses sometimes.

He gets out of his car, walking on a sidewalk which he vividly remembers used to be a mud path. They’ve really refurbished the place.

As he strolls around the place, looking back on the places he used to visit so often, and the people he used to always talk to.

Oscar can’t help but feel a wave of nostalgia hit him.

“Oscar?” his voice rings through and Oscar stones.

Oscar slowly turns around and comes face to face with the person he used to know and love.

He’s grown a lot by now, stubble and all. He’s definitely taller and slightly more buff, guess he’s been working out. 

He’s so much more… matured.

One thing hasn’t changed. His smile. 

It’s still… perfect. The smile that Oscar always loved, the things Oscar would do to see that smile forever. He missed that smile, he’s been missing that smile.

“Hi.” Oscar says as he gulps.

“I didn’t know you were coming back.” He smiles.

“Yea… uhm, well. Here I am.” Oscar manages. He’s not used to being this awkward.

“You have anywhere to stay?”

“My parents.”

“Cool.” 

“I gotta… uhm head off.” Oscar says as he quickly walks past him and back into the car.

Oscar drives off.

He turns on the radio, hoping the music would dissolve his thoughts.

They don’t.

Everything they used to do together comes back. They stay afloat, no matter how much Oscar tries to push them down. 

All the moments they shared, the memories they had.

The inevitable question finally surfaces in Oscar’s head.

Who replaced me?

“Shut up.” Oscar mutters to himself as he turns into his parents’ house driveway.

Stepping out, he’s greeted with a multitude of hugs. He chuckles as he returns the hugs to his parents.

“Ozzie!” His parents’ affectionate nickname.

They bring him into the house, letting him place his bags down.

“I’ll go get the cookies.” His mother says, “Make yourself comfortable.”

Oscar walks to the display case, it’s probably all really old stuff. It is. 

It’s photos of young Oscar with young Logan. They’re happy, innocent, naive. Oscar places his hand on the display cabinet, slightly grazing his hands over the photo.

They were just teenagers when Oscar left like that, how horrible it must’ve been on Logan.

All those memories, the moments they shared, the experiences they shared, everything they shared just shattered to pieces because Oscar was too afraid to face his nightmares.

The road not taken looks real good now.

Oscar feels a wave of regret wash over him. As much as he hates it, he remembers everything all too well, crystal clear in his head.

“He’s not mad at you anymore.” His mother says.

“What?” Oscar asks as he turns around, quickly wiping the tears off.

“I don’t think Logan’s mad at you for leaving like that anymore.” 

“He isn’t?” Oscar steps closer.

His mother just shrugs. 

Oscar takes one of the cookies from the plate and eats it. He takes a seat on the couch, staring into blank space.

His mother sets the plate of cookies in front of him and sits next to him.

“You should talk to him.”

“I can’t.” Oscar mutters, “I just can’t. I betrayed him, I can’t just go up to him again.”

“Logan won’t hold grudges.”

“He doesn’t look like he does, but I know he holds them close to his heart.” Oscar rants, “I know he doesn’t just ‘recover’ from me leaving without saying goodbye properly.”

Oscar’s mother places one hand on his shoulder.

“Logan hates me.”

His mother takes a deep breath before revealing.

“Logan hasn’t found anyone else.” 

Oscar almost freezes.

“He hasn’t gotten any new best friends or… anything like that.” She says, “It’s always been ‘I’ll be waiting for when Oscar comes back’.”

“What?”

“Logan hasn’t replaced you.”

“He hasn’t?”

His mother shakes her head.

Oscar doesn’t know what to think.

“Still has those photos of you two.” His mother says.

He does?

“I’ll talk to him… soon.” Oscar says. He doesn’t know when “soon” is but he knows it’s going to happen.

—

Oscar wakes up at 11am. It’s probably the latest he’s woken up in a few years. He looks into the ceiling. 

He spent half his night thinking about Logan, thinking about him and Logan. He misses Logan’s smile, more than ever.

It takes him pretty long to get his morning routine out of the way before he goes down for food. 

“You should go out for lunch.” His mother suggests, “Explore the city a little.”

Oscar nods as he picks out an apple and chews it.

He grabs his stuff and walks out the door, bidding goodbye first before walking toward the city. He’s decided not to use his car.

He reaches the city centre in a few minutes, it’s packed and busy. Oscar just brisk walks around the centre, finding somewhere which looks appetising. 

God forbid he gets any peace because he runs into Logan almost immediately.

“Good morning.” Logan waves.

Oscar awkwardly flashes a smile, “Hello.”

“Where you headin’ to?” 

“Finding somewhere to eat.” Oscar tries to maintain his calm composure.

Logan nods and smiles, “Okay.”

“Want to join me?” Oscar blurts.

Wait. What. 

Oscar takes a few seconds to process the fact that he just invited Logan out for lunch.

Logan smiles, “Sure. Why not.”

Damn.

“Do you know anywhere nice?” Oscar smiles, “Haven’t been here in a while.”

Wow. What a horrible joke.

Logan’s smile clearly falters for a bit.

“I know somewhere.” Logan says, bringing Oscar to a restaurant.

It’s not any diner, it’s the one where Oscar brought Logan out.

Oscar can feel his heart clench. 

“I remember this.” Oscar chuckles, but the chuckle feels forced.

Logan nods and opens the door for Oscar, letting him walk in first… just like Oscar did.

Both of them sit opposite each other at a table.

Oscar clears his throat, in an effort to disperse the tension building up… or maybe it might be just him.

“I’m sorry.” Oscar says softly.

Logan looks up from the menu, smiling slightly.

“I shouldn’t have left like that.” Oscar continues, the flashbacks replaying vividly, “It was a dick move.” 

“It’s okay.” Logan says back.

“No.” Oscar takes a deep breath, “Please.”

Logan places the menu down as Oscar reaches for his hand.

Logan doesn’t shift his hand away, he lets Oscar touch it.

“I’m really sorry.” Oscar holds Logan’s hand, “I destroyed your life.”

Logan shakes his head as he holds Oscar’s hand. 

“I’m happy for you Osc.”

Osc.

“I’ll pay for your lunch.” Oscar says, “Least I could do.”

“We can call it even then.” Logan jokes. 

It’s a good joke but Oscar can’t bring himself to laugh, he doesn’t really know if Logan has gotten over it or not.

— 

When their food arrives, Oscar’s too preoccupied staring at Logan to start eating. Logan hasn’t changed at all.

All Oscar sees is that small teenager which Oscar destroyed in seconds.

Oscar feels like crying, he can feel the tears brimming.

Oscar circles his food with his fork, not eating any of it.

“Are you not hungry?” Logan asks.

“I’m… thinking.” Oscar says.

The years in the spotlight changed Oscar, for the better or for the worse. 

“Of?” Logan inquires further.

Oscar can’t form a reply, so he just shrugs.

Oscar doesn’t get many moments to think, he sort of just goes with the flow. Everything’s so fast paced and it all sometimes blurs. Nothing feels real out there, all his “friends” are really just people who will leech off him when he becomes famous.

He’s faked so many smiles, he doesn’t know which ones are real anymore.

Logan shrugs back before placing his hand over Oscar’s clenched fist “Well, you should eat.” 

Oscar smiles. This one is real, he knows it.

Logan hasn’t changed.

The lunch ends quicker than Oscar would like.

“Do you… maybe want to eat together for dinner too?” Oscar asks as he walks out the diner with Logan.

Logan nods, “Sure.”

“Where do you stay, I’ll come pick you.” Oscar asks.

“Same place.” Logan replies.

Oscar almost freezes. 

“Still… down the street?” Oscar asks and Logan nods.

“5pm.” Logan says, “I’ll be waiting.” 

Logan bids Oscar farwell, giving him a pat on the shoulder and a slight hug before running off.

Oscar can feel his entire face flush red. He’s missed Logan. Everyone else in the world couldn’t compare. 

He runs home.

—

Oscar is left with his thoughts for a few hours.

Logan’s not changed, everything else has changed, Oscar feels his heart beat faster every time anything reminds him of Logan.

They used to be in love. It can’t be happening again… right?

Oscar hasn’t felt love in a long time, since everything comes and goes so quickly, nothing is really constant, which includes anyone he’s ever tried to date.

Oscar doesn’t understand his own feelings anymore.

He’s only coming back for a week, he can’t possibly get together again and then break his heart again.

Oscar doesn’t get it.

He hates that he doesn’t get it.

—

5pm inches closer and Oscar has never spent this long deciding on an outfit.

He decides to go with casual wear, which is a sweater and long baggy pants. He grabs his stuff and walks out the door to his car.

He starts it up and drives off Logan's house.

It takes him a few minutes to get there. As he approaches, he sees Logan waiting by the sidewalk. It’s just like they used to do, except Oscar’s mum would be the one driving.

In Oscar’s eyes, Logan is still the teenager Oscar destroyed.

Logan gets into the front seat, right next to Oscar.

Oscar smiles as Logan gets in.

“Anywhere you’d like to go?” Oscar asks as he drives.

“Go somewhere, get takeout, sit by the lake and eat.” Logan says.

Oscar can swear Logan is playing with his heart. These are all the things Oscar would do with Logan.

Oscar nods.

“Okay.”

They get takeout and stop by the lake, both of them sitting on the trunk of Oscar’s car.

They eat in silence for a while, Oscar catches the occasional glance at Logan. The orange glow of the sunset makes Logan sparkle.

Oscar shifts closer to Logan and Logan notices it.

“How’s it been?” Logan asks, placing his food next to him.

“It’s…” Oscar thinks, “Been okay.”

Logan nods, “Mine too.”

Oscar knows it’s now or never, “I’ve missed this.”

Logan raises an eyebrow.

“I can’t stop thinking about how I left you.”

Logan nods subtly.

“It’s horrible, it’s been haunting me.” Oscar looks into the sunset, “Believe me I’ve been looking for closure everywhere, nothing has given it to me.”

“And what will?”

“I don’t know… but it still is.” Oscar can’t believe he’s admitting all of this.

Everything Oscar has done just led back to Logan and this stupid place. Oscar’s attempts at finding closure have failed miserably, each making him yearn for it more and more.

Logan nudges himself closer to Oscar and pulls Oscar’s head into his chest. Oscar can feel his cheeks heating up as his heart picks up the pace and butterflies flutter in his stomach.

Oscar sobs.

Logan continues hugging Oscar.

“Logan please…” Oscar says as he hugs Logan back tightly.

“I forgive you Oscar.” Logan says, “I’ve missed you too.”

“I still love you…” Oscar whispers.

Logan nods, which is a sign for Oscar to hug Logan tighter.

“I’ll be yours for this week.” Oscar says and Logan smiles.

“I’ll fix everything.” Oscar says between soft sobs.

Logan pulls Oscar back in.

A few minutes pass and Oscar finally gains back his ability to speak in full sentences.

“What now?” Logan asks.

“We could… go for a drive, in my car… and talk about life.”

Logan smiles and nods, hopping off the trunk. Both of them get into the car and Oscar drives off.

He can’t help but catch a glance at Logan every opportunity he gets. Logan’s never looked better.

Everything brought him back to Logan. Everything he’s tried made him yearn for Logan again. 

Now he’s got him back (for the week).

—

“Stay with me for tonight?” Logan suggests.

Oscar nods as he texts his mum about his updated night plans, he quickly drives home to get his clothes and all.

After that, they continue driving around for a bit as Logan talks about how he’s been and all Oscar’s focusing on is Logan’s little smile he has every time he says anything.

Oscar feels Logan’s head fall onto his shoulder and he melts. He feels like a teenager all over again, he’s reignited some old spark which he’s tried to hide for years.

When they finally reach Logan’s house, they both prepare for bed as the night sky gets darker.

Logan throws another pillow onto his bed for Oscar and Oscar feels like his legs might just fail him at any moment. At least Logan will catch him.

They both get onto the bed and Oscar feels like he’s in high school again. He shifts closer to Logan and feels Logan’s warm arms wrapping around him.

Logan pulls Oscar closer in and they hug. The warmest bed ever, the warmest hug ever. For so many years, he’s been hugging but they’ve all been cold and emotionless. 

He missed Logan’s hug. He missed Logan’s touch.

“I’ve missed this.” Oscar whispers as Logan chuckles softly. He feels Logan’s warm breath graze his skin.

Oscar melts.

“Goodnight.” Oscar says.

“Goodnight babe.” Logan says and Oscar feels his heart pound against his ribcage.

“You too Logs.”

—

It’s 11am again when Oscar wakes up. It’s his best night since he left Logan.

“I should’ve never left.” Oscar says groggily as he hugs Logan’s waist.

Logan woke up hours ago but stayed with Oscar. 

Oscar doesn’t deserve this, he cuddles with Logan. Logan lets him do his thing while chuckling softly.

This is teenage love all over again.

“I don’t ever want to leave.” Oscar mumbles.

“Then don’t.” Logan says.

Oscar wants that too, but he knows he can’t break Logan’s heart a second time. He’s not willing to, he knows Logan deserves so much better. 

Teenage love burns strong like tinder, but it’ll burn out fast.

They’ll fall apart again and Oscar will break Logan all over again.

“Can’t.” Oscar says.

The mood of the room darkens but Logan just smiles and chuckles.

“I know, baby.” Logan sighs but still keeping a smile, “I know.”

—

The week is filled with emotional nostalgia, Oscar brought Logan out every day to every place, to fix every scar and to heal every wound.

They kissed in the moonlight, in the sunset. Oscar made sure he didn’t drop Logan’s heart again. 

“I’ve always loved you.” Logan says, “I never stopped.”

Oscar can feel time slow down and everything else becomes irrelevant.

“You never stopped?” Oscar says softly, and Logan nods.

“I never did either.” Oscar smiles.

“Love you.” Logan says.

Everything closed up properly, their chapters ending on high notes and the pages not burning up.

The emotional baggage was dropped where they left them. 

Long story short, they re-lived all their moments, but Oscar made sure he didn’t mess up the end this time.

Here was the end.

Oscar throws his luggage into his car’s trunk. The week passed by just like that.

“It’s time to go.” Logan says, giving Oscar a slight nudge as Oscar closes the trunk of his car.

Oscar smiles, it’s bittersweet. Logan smiles at him, as Oscar holds back his tears.

“Osc.” Logan says and Oscar looks up, “I won’t ask you to wait for me anymore.”

Oscar knows what this means to both of them.

“Then I won’t ask you to stay here for me.” Oscar replies.

It feels like the final end, the chapter which Oscar had always needed to write but couldn’t. The words in the final paragraph which always stabbed Oscar.

“Follow me to the exit.” Oscar says and Logan agrees.

Oscar’s family joins them.

Oscar drives to the exit of the town, passing through a place which used to haunt him and the place where he first saw Logan, where the ache was ever so present in his heart.

Oscar feels Logan’s hand touch his shoulder and Oscar holds back the tears.

As they approach the exit, Oscar’s family and Logan exit the car. Oscar bids his final farewells to them. Oscar’s mother winks at Oscar before giving him and Logan time.

“I’ll miss you.” Oscar admits.

“I’ll miss you too.” Logan replies.

Logan places both his hands on Oscar’s shoulders, pulling him in for a hug.

“Don’t forget me again. You have my number now.” Logan chuckles.

“I won’t…” Oscar replies, he shuffles his feet.

“Goodbye Oscar.” Logan says, hugging him tightly.

“I never thought I’d get a goodbye.” Oscar says, tears flowing out.

Logan chuckles and kisses Oscar’s forehead.

“Goodbye Logs.” 

Oscar turns around and he feels a sting in his heart, like he wants to stay.

He gets into his car.

His life will continue, he’s closed the chapter for this, he’s gotten his closure with Logan. 

Logan.

Logan who knew which smiles were faked and which smiles were real.

Logan who knew everything about Oscar.

Logan who knew Oscar better than he knew himself.

Logan who only wanted the best for Oscar.

Oscar smiles again as he looks at his feet, walking toward his car.

Everything just led back to Logan didn’t it.

Oscar stops, before turning around and running back to Logan for another hug.

Logan hugs him tightly, giving him one final kiss on the lips before they part ways.

“I’ll come back.” Oscar says, in tears.

Logan nods, “I know you will.”

It’s a bittersweet moment for them.

Oscar gets into his car and Logan waves goodbye to him as he drives off.

It finally felt like closure, like all the ache and sorrows had been drowned in love. It was their season. 

’tis the damn season that left Oscar with a healed heart.