#for such an important place in the series ...

[ilovemarvel97]

In Every Note, I Choose You

Elizabeth Olsen x G!P Reader

Summary: After almost two years being together, Y/N is ready to propose. 

Word Count: 6,739

Warnings: fluff

Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist

---

Y/N hadn’t planned on staying long.

Lizzie was booked the entire day—photoshoot in the morning, press interviews until evening—so Y/N had the rare freedom of a quiet afternoon to herself. No schedule. No studio session. Just a sense of nervous excitement she couldn’t shake.

There was only one place she wanted to go.

The drive to her mom’s house always calmed her. It was a small, cozy home tucked into a quiet neighborhood just outside the city. No paparazzi. No pressure. Just peace—and the warm scent of whatever her mom happened to be baking that day.

She didn’t bother knocking. “Mom?” she called, stepping inside and hanging her coat by the door.

From the kitchen, she heard the familiar clink of dishes and her mother’s voice: “In here, sweetheart! You two are really twins. Your brother just arrived too.”

Y/N blinked in surprise. “Jay’s here?”

Before she could take another step, Jay’s voice called out, “Well, well. If it isn’t the famous one.”

Y/N rounded the corner to find her twin brother sitting at the kitchen island with a half-finished sandwich and a smug grin.

She smirked. “Don’t get jealous just because I have better hair.”

Jay stood up and pulled her into a hug, clapping her back. “Good to see you, troublemaker.”

“I was literally the good twin,” Y/N said with mock offense.

“Were. I’ve seen your stage outfits lately.”

Melissa turned from the stove, beaming at the sight of her kids together. “I’ll leave you two to your nonsense. There’s tea and some of that lemon cake you both like.”

Y/N dropped into the chair next to Jay, her fingers still slightly fidgety. She didn’t even want cake—and she always wanted cake. She was too wired, too full of something unspoken.

“So,” Jay started, eyeing her. “Lizzie doing another shoot today?”

“Yeah. Full day. She won’t be home until late.”

Jay gave her a knowing look. “And you came here for emotional backup or cake?”

“…Both?”

He laughed. “Figured. So what’s up?”

Y/N leaned her elbows on the counter, fingers twisting her rings. “You remember when we were kids, and we used to switch places in school to mess with teachers?”

Jay grinned immediately. “How could I forget? I aced your English quiz, and you tanked my math one.”

“Okay, rude. I got a C-plus. That’s not a tank.”

They both laughed, the kind of laugh that only came from decades of shared stories and childhood scars. Their mom hummed quietly in the background, giving them space, but always listening.

Y/N grew quiet after the laughter faded. She reached into her coat pocket and fingered the box there—small, velvet, impossibly important.

Then she looked at Jay. “Can I ask you something serious?”

He sobered instantly. “Of course.”

“How did you know you wanted to marry Natalie?”

Jay leaned back, brows raising. “That’s out of nowhere.”

Y/N shrugged. “Just… curious.”

He didn’t rush his answer. “I think I always knew she was special. But it was when I realized that being around her made everything else feel quieter. I could just be. You know? And I never felt like I had to earn her love—she just gave it, without conditions. That kind of thing doesn’t come around twice.”

Y/N swallowed, eyes suddenly misty.

“Why?” he asked more softly now. “You thinking about it?”

Without saying anything, she slowly reached into her pocket and set a small velvet box on the counter between them.

Jay’s eyes widened.

Y/N opened it.

The emerald glinted in the kitchen light, deep and brilliant—just like *her* eyes.

Melissa gasped gently from the stove. “Oh, honey…”

“I wasn’t even looking,” Y/N said, voice soft, eyes locked on the ring. “I saw it in this tiny boutique in Paris months ago, and I just knew. I couldn’t stop staring at it. It reminded me of Lizzie’s eyes—the way they look first thing in the morning, when she hasn’t said anything yet, just looking at me like I’m her whole world.”

Jay whistled low. “Damn. That’s beautiful.”

“I’m not nervous,” Y/N continued, still staring at the ring. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. I knew she was the one the second I met her. I just… wanted to tell you both. Wanted to say it out loud to the people who’ve known me the longest.”

Melissa came over and wrapped her arms around her from behind, resting her cheek on Y/N’s shoulder. “I’m so proud of you, baby. You’ve always had a heart that knew exactly where to go.”

Jay reached over and flicked a tear off her cheek with a grin. “So? What’s the plan? Gonna get a skywriter? Hire a flash mob?”

Y/N chuckled. “Not quite. But it will involve candles. And a new song.”

Jay groaned. “God, you’re such a romantic. Natalie’s gonna cry when she hears about this.”

“I hope Lizzie does,” Y/N said quietly, closing the ring box. “Because I mean every word.”

She left the house that afternoon with hugs, love, and her family’s blessing tucked around her like armor.

The ring was still in her coat pocket.

But her heart? That was already with Lizzie.

---

The sun was setting by the time Y/N pulled into the driveway.

She had taken the long way home, music low in the car, fingers grazing the velvet box in her coat pocket over and over. The conversation with her mom and Jay replayed in her head like a chorus. She felt full—of peace, of certainty, of love.

As she unlocked the front door to the home she shared with Lizzie, the scent of something floral and soft hit her first. Peonies? No—whatever it was, it was warm and familiar, like Lizzie’s perfume lingering in the air.

“Hey,” a gentle voice called from the living room. “You’re late.”

Y/N stepped inside, smiling instantly.

Lizzie was curled up on the couch in one of Y/N’s oversized hoodies, makeup washed off, hair up in a lazy bun. She looked relaxed, legs tucked under her, a glass of wine in one hand and the remote in the other.

“You’re home early,” Y/N said as she dropped her keys into the bowl by the door.

Lizzie raised an eyebrow. “You think six p.m. is early after a twelve-hour day?”

Y/N chuckled, walking over to lean down and kiss her on the head. “Touché.”

Lizzie grabbed her wrist gently before she could pull away. “Where were you?”

Y/N hesitated just a second too long.

Lizzie tilted her head. “Hmm?”

“I went to see my mom.”

Lizzie softened. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah. I just… wanted to talk. Jay was there too.”

“Ooh,” Lizzie said playfully. “That must’ve been a chaotic trio. Did your mom survive?”

“Barely,” Y/N grinned.

Lizzie reached out and gently tugged her down onto the couch. “Come here. I missed you today.”

Y/N didn’t hesitate this time. She slid onto the couch, her body fitting naturally against Lizzie’s as Lizzie laid her head on her shoulder.

For a while, they just sat there—cuddled in the dim light of the living room, the sound of some half-watched documentary playing in the background. Lizzie’s hand rested lightly on Y/N’s thigh, tracing soft, lazy circles.

“Did you eat?” Y/N murmured.

“Mmm. Craft services was decent. You?”

“Mom sent me home with lemon cake.”

Lizzie perked up. “You brought me some?”

Y/N grinned. “Some? You weren’t even there!”

“I’m your girlfriend. That means I get half by default.”

“Wow. That’s a bold claim.”

Lizzie looked up at her then—bare-faced, eyes tired but warm, a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “I love you, you know.”

Y/N’s heart swelled.

“I know,” she whispered, brushing a thumb across Lizzie’s cheek. “I love you too.”

So much, it scared her sometimes.

But not tonight.

Tonight, it only filled her to the brim.

She looked down at the woman nestled against her chest and thought, You have no idea what’s coming.

The ring was still in her coat pocket, just a few feet away.

And in just a few days, she'd ask the most important question of her life.

---

A Few Days Later – Dinner at the Olsen House

Dinner at Lizzie’s mom’s place was always a bit of organized chaos—and tonight was no exception.

With Ashley and Mary-Kate both in town, the Olsen household was full of overlapping conversations, glasses clinking, and the kind of laughter that could only come from siblings who knew each other inside out. The food was rich and homey—stuffed pasta shells, roasted vegetables, and a pear and goat cheese salad that Y/N couldn’t stop raving about.

“Seriously,” she said between bites, leaning toward Jarnette at the head of the table, “if you ever release a cookbook, I’ll be your first customer.”

Jarnette smiled, brushing off the compliment but clearly pleased. “Well, if I ever slow down long enough to write one, you’ll get the first copy—signed.”

Lizzie nudged Y/N from beside her with a smirk. “You’re just saying that because she did the dishes last time.”

“I’m trying to earn points,” Y/N murmured into her wine glass.

After dinner, Ashley and Mary-Kate pulled Lizzie away into the living room, all of them talking over each other as they settled into the couch with tea and a tray of cookies.

Y/N rose from her seat, collecting a few empty plates. “I’ll help clean up.”

Jarnette was already stacking dishes. “You don’t have to, sweetheart.”

“I want to.”

Y/N followed her into the kitchen, rolling up her sleeves. The clink of plates and the rush of warm water filled the silence as they settled into the easy rhythm of rinsing and drying. Y/N glanced once toward the living room where Lizzie was laughing at something Ashley had said—her smile relaxed, her head thrown back.

Her heart ached in the best way.

“Mama J?” Y/N said softly, setting down a plate and wiping her hands.

Jarnette turned slightly, brow lifted, sensing a shift in the air.

Y/N reached into the pocket of her jacket draped over a nearby chair and pulled out the ring box.

She opened it slowly, revealing the emerald nestled inside—rich, deep green with a subtle sparkle under the kitchen light.

“What do you think?” she asked gently. “What do you think, Mama J?”

Jarnette blinked, taken by surprise—but the kind of surprise that warmed into emotion quickly. She leaned in, gaze lingering on the ring, lips parting slightly in awe.

“It’s beautiful,” she said after a beat. “It’s... her.”

“That’s what I thought too,” Y/N said, a little breathless. “I wasn’t even planning it when I found it. But I saw this and… I saw her eyes. The way they look when she wakes up beside me. The way they sparkle when she’s excited, or when she’s about to cry at a movie.”

Jarnette smiled, eyes now shining just a little. “You love her so much.”

Y/N nodded. “With everything I’ve got.”

“She’s never looked as happy as she has since you came into her life,” Jarnette said quietly. “I mean that. You’ve given her something steady. Something soft.”

Y/N’s throat tightened.

“I’m not doing it tonight,” she clarified, closing the box gently. “But soon. Everything’s already planned. I just—wanted to tell you first. Because I know how much she looks up to you. And I… I wanted your blessing.”

Jarnette placed her hand over Y/N’s without hesitation. “You have it. Fully. I’d be honored to call you family.”

Y/N smiled, a little overwhelmed. “Thank you. That means the world to me.”

They stood there in the kitchen, the hum of the dishwasher behind them, the faint sound of Lizzie laughing from the next room. It was a quiet moment—but Y/N knew she’d remember it forever.

She slipped the ring back into her coat pocket just as Lizzie peeked her head around the corner.

“Hey,” Lizzie said. “Are you hiding from me?”

“Never,” Y/N grinned, grabbing a towel. “Just charming your mom.”

“Well, stop charming her and come eat cookies.”

Y/N winked at Jarnette before following Lizzie out of the kitchen, heart a little lighter, one step closer.

---

Lizzie’s POV – That Same Evening

Lizzie loved having her sisters in town.

It didn’t happen often—Ashley was always somewhere coastal, and Mary-Kate had made Europe her second home—but when they did get together, it was like flipping a switch. No matter how long it had been, the rhythm returned instantly: teasing, finishing each other’s sentences, poking old wounds just enough to laugh at them.

She was curled up between them now on the couch, a blanket across her knees, a warm mug in her hand, and laughter buzzing in her chest.

“You’re glowing,” Ashley teased, nudging her with her elbow.

“I am not.”

“You are,” Mary-Kate said, narrowing her eyes. “It’s the ‘I’m in love and life is good’ glow.”

Lizzie smirked, sipping her tea to hide the blush rising in her cheeks. “I can’t help it if I’m happy.”

“You’re more than happy,” Ashley added, wiggling her brows. “You’re in it.”

“I’ve been in it,” Lizzie said, unable to keep the smile off her face. “Since the first week.”

Both her sisters looked at her knowingly, and Lizzie let her head fall back against the couch cushion.

“It’s just…” she sighed, softer now. “I feel safe with her. Like I can actually breathe. Like I don’t have to perform, even when everything else is noise.”

Mary-Kate touched her knee. “That’s how you know.”

Lizzie stared into the steam rising from her mug. She didn’t want to jinx it, but the truth was—she’d been feeling something shifting between them lately. Not distance. Just… a stillness. Like the sky before a first snowfall.

Y/N had been thoughtful lately. More quiet. She’d vanish for an afternoon, come back with stars in her eyes. She’d look at Lizzie a little too long when she thought she wasn’t watching. And when they were in bed, she held her just a little tighter.

It wasn’t fear. It wasn’t doubt.

It was love, thick and full and right on the edge of something more.

Lizzie looked toward the kitchen. She could hear faint water running, a cabinet closing, and her mom’s voice—soft, low, impossible to make out.

Y/N had offered to help clean up, and Lizzie didn’t miss how quick she’d volunteered. Her Y/N, always charming, always eager to pitch in. But also… kind of suspicious.

“You think she’s in there sweet-talking Mom for intel on my childhood?” Lizzie asked.

Ashley grinned. “Or maybe asking for embarrassing stories.”

Mary-Kate leaned her head back. “Or maybe she’s just being sweet.”

Lizzie bit her lip.

Maybe.

Still…

She turned her head and peeked toward the kitchen doorway—just as Y/N emerged, drying her hands with a towel, cheeks a little flushed, eyes flicking briefly to Jarnette, who smiled quietly behind her.

Something in Lizzie’s stomach fluttered.

She sat up straighter. “Hey,” she called. “Are you hiding from me?”

Y/N’s grin was instant. “Never. Just charming your mom.”

Lizzie narrowed her eyes playfully. “Again?”

“Can you blame me?” Y/N winked.

Her sisters giggled beside her, but Lizzie couldn’t stop staring. She didn’t know what Y/N had said in that kitchen. But she knew this—something was coming.

And whatever it was, it felt like love.

It felt like forever.

---

A Week Before ‘The Day’

Y/N was late again.

It was nearly 11:30 when the front door clicked shut. Lizzie didn’t move from where she sat curled up on the couch, her laptop glowing in her lap, but she heard the familiar sound of boots being slipped off and a bag being set down gently by the door. Like always, Y/N was trying not to wake her.

“I’m up,” Lizzie called quietly.

She didn’t mean for it to sound cold. But it came out distant. Hollow.

Y/N poked her head around the corner, sheepish. “Hey. Sorry I’m late. Studio ran over.”

“Again,” Lizzie said, not looking away from her screen.

Y/N’s smile faltered. “Yeah. It’s almost done though.”

“That’s good,” Lizzie replied, typing something just to have her hands moving. “You’ve been spending a lot of time on it.”

There was a pause before Y/N nodded. “Yeah. I want it to be… right.”

Lizzie forced a tight smile. “Of course.”

Y/N didn’t say more. She just crossed the room and leaned down to kiss the top of Lizzie’s head, her lips soft and warm against her hair. Then she disappeared into the bedroom.

Lizzie didn’t follow right away.

---

Over the next few days, the pattern continued.

Late nights. Soft apologies. Quick pecks. And always the same explanation—“studio.”

Y/N wasn’t cold. If anything, she was still sweet—maybe even sweeter. But something was… off. Like she was holding her breath around Lizzie, like her mind was always somewhere else. And Lizzie didn’t know what to do with that.

She tried not to overthink it. She tried to trust. But late at night, when she rolled over and found only the empty side of the bed, her mind filled in the gaps with fear.

What if Y/N wasn’t happy anymore?

What if something had changed?

---

She brought it up to Mary-Kate on the phone a few nights later.

“She’s distracted,” Lizzie said, sitting on the floor by the bedroom window, hugging her knees to her chest. “And I don’t know what she’s working on. She won’t tell me anything. Not even a hint.”

“She’s an artist,” Mary-Kate said gently. “You know how it is. Sometimes we disappear into things. Maybe she just wants to surprise you.”

“But that’s the thing—she doesn’t hide anything from me,” Lizzie said. “We’ve always been open. And now she’s just… closed off. She disappears into the studio and comes home exhausted. I don’t even know what she’s writing anymore. What if it’s not about me?”

Mary-Kate hesitated, then said softly, “Do you think there’s someone else?”

The question made Lizzie flinch. “No. God, no. I don’t think she’d ever—”

“But you’re scared,” Mary-Kate finished for her.

Lizzie swallowed hard, eyes burning.

“Yeah,” she whispered. “I am.”

---

That night, Y/N came home past midnight.

Lizzie was pretending to sleep, but her heart was thudding hard in her chest as Y/N tiptoed into the bedroom. The scent of her—faint cologne, warm vinyl, a little sweat from long hours—wrapped around Lizzie like a blanket she couldn’t pull close enough.

Y/N undressed in the dark and climbed into bed behind her, spooning her gently, arms slipping around her waist.

Lizzie’s eyes stayed open.

“I love you,” Y/N whispered against her neck.

Lizzie didn’t respond.

Not because she didn’t believe it.

But because some small, cruel part of her was starting to wonder if maybe the person she loved most was slipping away—and she wouldn’t even know why.

---

Y/N’s POV – Three Days Before

The studio was dark, quiet—only the low hum of the speakers still buzzing as the final note of the track faded.

Y/N sat there in the sound booth, still, breath caught in her chest. Headphones slid off her ears, but she didn’t move. The silence after music always hit differently—especially when it meant something was done.

Really done.

The song was finished.

It had taken weeks. Every lyric carved out of her chest, every harmony layered with care. She’d rewritten the second verse three times before finally deciding to keep the original because—it was her. It was them.

The melody swelled around the moment they met. The bridge cracked with vulnerability. The final chorus? It was a promise.

Y/N had never written anything like it.

And Lizzie hadn’t heard a single note.

She closed her laptop and stood, heart pounding harder now than when she’d recorded the vocals. Everything else was already ready—the vineyard reservation, the lighting, the table under the olive trees, the string quartet waiting for their cue. Even the dress code had been quietly arranged with the help of Ashley, who swore she’d get Lizzie in the perfect outfit without tipping her off.

Now all Y/N needed… was time.

---

Two Days Before

She got home around 10:45 that night, humming the chorus under her breath as she stepped through the front door. She didn’t expect fanfare—but she didn’t expect cold silence either.

The lights were still on in the living room. Lizzie sat on the couch, arms crossed, face unreadable. She didn’t turn her head when Y/N walked in.

“Hey, baby,” Y/N said softly, dropping her bag by the door. “Sorry I’m late again. I just finished the—”

Lizzie stood up.

“You said that last time,” she said flatly.

Y/N blinked, pausing mid-step. “What?”

“You said it was almost done. Days ago.”

“I know. It just—tonight was the last touch. I wanted it to be perfect.”

“For what?” Lizzie asked, voice rising just slightly. “What are you even working on that you can’t tell me about? You come home past ten almost every night this week, barely look at me, and now I’m just supposed to pretend everything’s fine?”

Y/N’s heart dropped. “Liz—”

“Don’t Liz me,” she cut in, voice trembling now. “I know you say you love me, but lately it feels like I’m not even part of your life. It feels like I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop. Like you’re preparing to leave me.”

Y/N stepped forward quickly. “No—no, God, Lizzie, never. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Then why are you shutting me out?”

There it was. Her voice cracked at the end of it, all the softness behind the anger finally spilling through.

Y/N crossed the distance between them and gently took her hands, her voice trembling now too.

“I’m not shutting you out. I promise. I’ve just… been working on something important. Something for you. And I couldn’t show you yet because it’s a surprise. But it’s not bad. It’s the opposite of bad.”

Lizzie stared at her, eyes rimmed with hurt. “Then why do I feel like I’m losing you?”

Y/N cupped her face, gently tilting her chin. “You’re not. You couldn’t. I’ve been pouring my heart into something for us. Every minute I was gone, I was thinking about you. I swear.”

Lizzie searched her eyes for a long moment. Then, quieter, more guarded, “Is it something I should be worried about?”

Y/N shook her head immediately. “No. But… I do want to ask you something.”

Lizzie’s brows furrowed.

Y/N’s lips curled softly. “Not tonight. Soon. But first… I want to take you away. Just the two of us. This weekend.”

Lizzie’s voice was wary. “A weekend?”

“A ‘mental health break,’” Y/N said gently. “We’ll leave Friday. Just trust me, okay?”

Lizzie looked at her for a long moment, and Y/N could practically see the battle behind her eyes—hurt, confusion, and that guarded tenderness she wore when she wasn’t sure what to believe.

Finally, she exhaled. “Fine. But I want to know everything eventually.”

Y/N kissed her forehead, lips lingering there.

“You will,” she whispered. “More than you know.”

---

Lizzie’s POV – Friday Morning

Lizzie woke to the sound of movement in the kitchen.

The sun had just barely started to peek through the curtains, casting soft lines of gold across the bed. Y/N wasn’t beside her. The sheets on her side were still warm, slightly rumpled, and Lizzie reached out to touch them before she even opened her eyes fully.

Part of her wanted to pull the blanket over her head and stay there—safe in the half-sleep, where things didn’t feel so tangled. But curiosity won out.

She sat up, stretching quietly, then slipped into one of Y/N’s old shirts and padded barefoot down the hall.

In the kitchen, Y/N was packing a small cooler with snacks. A thermos sat next to it. She was moving around with that particular kind of focused energy she always had when she was preparing for something that mattered—an interview, a show, a big performance.

Lizzie leaned against the doorway. “Are we going on tour or just a weekend trip?”

Y/N looked up quickly, and her face lit up the way it always did when she saw Lizzie—like nothing else in the world existed. “Hey, you’re up.”

“Barely.”

“I was gonna bring you coffee in bed.”

Lizzie arched an eyebrow. “That’s suspiciously romantic.”

Y/N walked over and kissed her lips, arms sliding loosely around her waist. “Maybe I just missed you.”

“You saw me eight hours ago.”

Y/N grinned. “Still.”

Lizzie looked up at her, eyes scanning her expression. She could tell Y/N had barely slept—there was a tiredness around her eyes, but underneath it was… excitement? Nerves?

“Where are we going again?” Lizzie asked. “You’ve been annoyingly vague.”

“You’ll see when we get there,” Y/N said with a teasing smile. “Just pack comfy clothes, and maybe one dress you like. Something flowy.”

Lizzie squinted. “Something flowy? Y/N, if you take me to a surprise wedding I swear to God—”

Y/N burst out laughing. “Relax. No secret weddings. Just... a weekend of peace. Quiet. You and me. I promise.”

Lizzie wanted to believe her. She really did. And maybe she was being too sensitive—but Y/N had been acting so strange lately. All these late nights, the constant deflections, and now this sudden romantic getaway?

Still, she couldn’t deny that when Y/N looked at her, when she held her like that, it didn’t feel like a goodbye.

It felt like something else.

Something bigger.

Something... waiting.

She pulled away gently. “Okay. I’ll go pack my ‘flowy’ dress.”

Y/N kissed her temple. “Thank you.”

“For trusting you?”

“For loving me,” Y/N murmured.

Lizzie blinked, surprised by the sudden weight in her voice. But before she could say anything, Y/N was already heading back to her bags, pretending not to notice the flicker of confusion in her eyes.

Lizzie watched her quietly.

There was definitely something in the air. She didn’t know what—but whatever it was, it was coming.

And soon.

---

Lizzie’s POV – Friday Afternoon

They’d been driving for a few hours.

The roads had grown quieter, narrower, the city fading behind them like an old memory. Now, rolling hills stretched out in every direction—soft greens and golds under a wide-open sky. The sun was beginning its slow descent, casting the world in that honey-colored light Lizzie always secretly adored.

“Where are we?” she asked as she leaned forward in her seat, scanning the endless rows of grapevines beyond the windshield.

Y/N glanced over, smiling softly. “You’ll see.”

Lizzie exhaled through her nose, amused despite herself. “You and your secrets lately…”

They turned off onto a private gravel road flanked by cypress trees, winding gently uphill. Lizzie’s brows furrowed as the car rounded a final curve and a stunning old vineyard estate came into view. Stone walls. Clay-tiled roofs. Terraced gardens and rows upon rows of vines glinting in the sun.

Y/N pulled up to a small secluded guesthouse tucked behind the main villa. Everything looked impossibly picturesque—straight out of a romantic film.

“This is where we’re staying?” Lizzie asked quietly.

Y/N nodded, parking the car. “All weekend. Just us.”

Lizzie blinked, almost caught off guard. “It’s… beautiful.”

Y/N unbuckled her seatbelt and turned to face her. “Good. You deserve beautiful.”

There was something about the way she said it—so sincere, so full of intent—that Lizzie had to look away for a moment.

They grabbed their bags, and as they stepped out of the car, a soft breeze lifted through the vines. The scent of lavender and ripe grapes hung in the air. Somewhere in the distance, she could hear water—maybe a fountain, maybe a stream.

Y/N opened the door to the guesthouse and stepped aside, letting Lizzie walk in first.

The interior was breathtaking—light, airy, rustic with soft linens and golden wood. Candles lined the mantle. A small handwritten note in Y/N’s scrawl was left on the bed.

Take your time. Sunset’s waiting.

Lizzie turned slowly toward her, her heart already skipping.

“Okay…” she said cautiously, eyes narrowing playfully. “This is not a mental health break. What are you doing?”

Y/N stepped forward, gently taking the bag from Lizzie’s shoulder. “Nothing crazy. I just wanted to give you something quiet. Just you and me, no cameras. No noise.”

Lizzie studied her face. Y/N looked both calm and jittery—like someone who had been carrying a secret so carefully for too long and was nearly ready to lay it down.

Still, Lizzie nodded slowly. “Okay. Then I’ll shut up and enjoy it.”

Y/N smiled, brushing a kiss against her cheek. “Change into something you feel good in. I’ll meet you outside in a little bit.”

Lizzie raised an eyebrow. “Are we going somewhere?”

Y/N only smiled, then slipped back out the door, leaving Lizzie standing in the quiet room with a strange flutter in her chest.

She looked toward the window.

The sun was sinking now, low and golden. The vines were glowing.

Something was coming.

She just didn’t know what.

Not yet.

---

Lizzie’s POV – Sunset

She changed into a soft linen dress—the kind she usually saved for beach getaways or lazy Sundays with Y/N. Flowing, light, cream-colored with delicate straps and just enough fabric to dance in, if dancing were ever to happen.

She didn’t know why, but her hands shook slightly as she pulled her hair back loosely. Her chest was tight with something unspoken. Something building.

Y/N hadn’t told her anything, not really—but the way she looked at her lately, the way she moved, the softness in her voice—it all told Lizzie something was coming.

And it was coming now.

She stepped outside onto the stone path, following the small string lights that had been wound carefully around the olive trees. The path curved gently past a low vineyard wall and opened into a quiet clearing where a small table was set for two. A private dinner under the sky. Candles. Wildflowers. Two glasses of wine.

And there—standing in the middle of it all—was Y/N.

She’d changed into a simple, elegant black suit. No tie. Collar slightly open. Hair tousled just enough to be dangerous.

Lizzie’s breath caught.

“You look…” Y/N started, eyes raking over her, smile breaking. “Like every lyric I ever tried to write before you.”

Lizzie blinked rapidly. “You’re really pulling out the lines tonight, huh?”

“I’m nervous.”

Lizzie paused. “Why?”

But Y/N didn’t answer.

She just shook her head and stepped closer, reaching out, her palm up, wordless.

Lizzie hesitated only a second before placing her hand in Y/N’s.

And the moment she did, Y/N gently tugged her forward—closer, until Lizzie’s chest met hers—and kissed her.

Not softly.

Deeply.

With all the words she wasn’t saying yet.

Lizzie melted into it, her hands curling into Y/N’s jacket, her eyes fluttering shut. The world disappeared in that kiss, in that warmth, in that familiar mouth that somehow always felt like home.

When they finally pulled apart, breathless, Lizzie blinked up at her, dazed. “What was that for?”

Y/N smiled and whispered against her lips, “That one was for me.”

Her eyes lingered on Lizzie’s face as she added, just a touch hoarse, “You look absolutely beautiful.”

Lizzie’s cheeks burned, and for the first time all day, her heart settled. Something about the way Y/N looked at her—like she was memorizing the moment—eased her nerves.

Y/N slid an arm around her waist and guided her toward the table, pulling out her chair like the perfect gentleman. Lizzie sat down, a little breathless still, smoothing her dress.

The moment her napkin was in her lap, two servers quietly emerged from behind the trees, placing the first course in front of them—heirloom tomato tartlets with whipped feta and microgreens, paired with a chilled white wine.

Lizzie glanced across the table at Y/N, who raised her glass slightly, her smile crooked and nervous.

“To you,” Y/N said softly.

Lizzie clinked her glass against hers.

“To us.”

The meal began.

But the real feast?

That was still to come.

---

It was, without a doubt, the most thoughtful dinner Lizzie had ever experienced.

Every course was tailored to her favorites—from the wild mushroom risotto with truffle shavings to the arugula and peach salad that reminded her of their first trip to Italy. Even the dessert—a warm chocolate soufflé with raspberry coulis—was the one she'd once joked about wanting as her last meal.

She had laughed through most of it, caught between teasing Y/N and trying not to cry at how *seen* she felt. Every bite tasted like a memory.

“I can’t believe you remembered that I like basil with stone fruits,” she’d said, narrowing her eyes at Y/N across the table.

Y/N only smirked. “Of course I did. You lectured the waiter for five minutes about it that night in Napa.”

Lizzie rolled her eyes. “That was *one time.*”

“You were very passionate,” Y/N said with a grin, sipping her wine. “It was adorable.”

By the time dessert was finished and Lizzie leaned back in her chair, full and glowing from wine, laughter, and love, she was ready to melt into the moment completely.

Then the candlelight shifted.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a server approaching the table again—not with another course, but with something else in his hands.

A guitar.

He handed it gently to Y/N, who stood slowly and nodded her thanks.

Lizzie sat up straighter, heart skipping.

Y/N met her eyes with that look—that same quiet, reverent look she'd had the night they first said I love you and every morning since, when she thought Lizzie was still asleep.

“I have one more thing for you,” Y/N said, fingers wrapping around the fretboard. “Something I’ve been working on for a while.”

Lizzie’s lips parted, but she couldn’t speak.

Y/N adjusted the strap over her shoulder, walked a few feet closer, and sat down on the edge of the low stone wall across from her. The vineyard spread behind her in soft, golden twilight. The string lights swayed gently above.

And then—

She played.

Soft at first. Just a hum of strings. Then the first verse, quiet and steady, like a secret Y/N had been keeping in her chest too long. Her voice trembled slightly but never wavered.

The lyrics were undeniably personal.

The way they met.

The way Lizzie’s laugh filled a room before she even entered it.

The way her hand felt in Y/N’s for the first time.

How love crept in gently—and stayed.

The second verse cracked Lizzie open.

“I built this song from quiet things,

your sleepy sighs, your wedding dreams.

If I could write you into time,

I’d never need another rhyme.”

Tears rolled freely down Lizzie’s cheeks now.

She couldn’t even wipe them away. She just… felt them.

When the final chorus began, Y/N stood up slowly, the guitar now quiet, still hanging over her shoulder. She reached into her pocket and pulled something small and familiar—a velvet box Lizzie somehow knew before it even opened.

Her breath caught.

Y/N’s voice shook. “Elizabeth Chase Olsen…”

She stepped closer.

“I’ve loved you from the moment you sat across from me and asked if I wanted to share fries even though you already ordered your own.”

Lizzie laughed through a sob.

“I’ve loved you in every quiet moment, every loud fight, every night I came home and found you wearing my hoodie and drinking tea like you owned the whole damn world. And I want to keep loving you like that. For the rest of my life.”

She opened the box.

The emerald glinted like a secret only they shared.

“Will you marry me?”

The tears didn’t stop. Lizzie blinked through them, eyes locked on the ring, then up at Y/N’s trembling face.

She was already nodding.

“Yes,” she whispered, then louder. “Yes.”

Y/N’s whole body exhaled. She stepped forward, slipped the ring onto Lizzie’s finger with shaking hands, then kissed her—deep, smiling against her lips, and maybe crying too.

They didn’t hear the quiet clapping of the staff in the distance.

They didn’t notice the lights around them grow a little warmer.

They just held onto each other.

In the middle of a vineyard.

Under the stars.

With a song still echoing in the air.

And forever beginning right now.

---

Lizzie’s POV – The Next Morning

Sunlight poured through the curtains like honey.

Gentle. Golden. The kind of light that didn’t demand you wake up—it just invited you to exist.

Lizzie stirred slowly, the sheets warm and tangled around her legs, her bare skin pressed against softer skin beside her. The room was quiet, save for the soft rustling of the breeze and the even sound of Y/N’s breathing.

She blinked open her eyes.

Y/N was still asleep.

On her back, hair messy across the pillow, one arm loosely draped over Lizzie’s waist like her body refused to let go even in sleep. The other was tucked beneath the sheets, rising and falling with her steady chest.

Lizzie didn’t move—didn’t want to. She just let herself exist in that moment, half-draped over the woman she loved, completely bare.

Except for one thing.

Her eyes drifted down to her hand resting gently against Y/N’s ribs.

The ring.

That delicate, deep emerald—so vivid in the morning light it almost didn’t seem real. But it was. It was there. Solid. Warm from her skin. Her heart thudded gently at the sight of it.

Fiancée.

That word hadn’t quite settled yet. It felt both enormous and completely natural.

Her lips curled into a small, private smile. She shifted slightly, just enough to lay her head on Y/N’s shoulder, her nose brushing against the curve of her neck.

She breathed her in.

God, she loved her.

Y/N murmured something in her sleep, shifting just a little, but didn’t wake. Lizzie watched her—lids fluttering, lashes brushing against her cheeks, lips slightly parted. Her face was relaxed in a way it rarely was during the day. Like every part of her had finally exhaled.

Lizzie reached up and gently brushed a piece of hair from her forehead.

“You have no idea how much I love you,” she whispered.

She didn’t need a response.

Just being there—skin to skin, heart to heart, with forever on her finger and Y/N’s arm around her—was enough.

She closed her eyes again, sinking deeper into her warmth, letting the morning hold them in its quiet promise.

No rush. No noise.

Just them.

Y/N stirred with a faint hum, her nose brushing against Lizzie’s hair as she shifted sleepily. Her arm tightened a little, pulling Lizzie closer against her chest.

“Mmm… morning,” she mumbled, voice low and raspy from sleep.

Lizzie smiled, eyes still closed. “Hi.”

There was a pause, and then a long, soft exhale. “Still real?”

Lizzie lifted her hand slightly, letting the sunlight catch the emerald again. “Still real.”

Y/N nosed at her temple, her lips brushing the side of Lizzie’s face before she dropped her head back on the pillow with a lazy, content sigh. “God, I love you.”

“I know,” Lizzie whispered, curl into her chest even more.

Y/N immediately wrapped her up tighter, one strong thigh sliding between Lizzie’s legs, her hand resting low on her back.

They stayed like that for a moment—breathing each other in, the world still a million miles away.

Then Lizzie shifted again… and frowned slightly.

She wiggled.

Frowned more.

Y/N’s eyes opened halfway. “What?”

Lizzie pressed her hand between them, suspicious. “There’s something poking my thigh.”

Y/N blinked. Then smirked. “Uh-oh.”

Lizzie tilted her head and gave her a look.

Y/N raised a hand like she was swearing an oath. “It’s not my fault. You’re naked. You’re warm. You’re wearing my ring.”

Lizzie laughed, pressing her face into Y/N’s neck to muffle the sound. “I can’t believe this is how we’re starting our first full day as fiancées.”

Y/N grinned. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

They both burst into laughter, the kind that came from deep in their stomachs, full and real and unfiltered. Lizzie ended up half on top of Y/N, still tangled in sheets, still flushed from giggling and everything that came before.

And as she looked down at her, that ring glinting again between them, she swore—she’d never seen anything more beautiful than this moment.

Y/N reached up and brushed a strand of hair from Lizzie’s cheek. “So… breakfast in bed, or round two?”

Lizzie grinned, kissed her nose, and whispered, “Yes.”

To which part, she didn’t say.

But the answer was the same.

To all of it.

---

Leave your thoughts in the comment!

[xoxosierralane]

| ᴛʜɪs ᴡᴀsɴ’ᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘʟᴀɴ |

✎ from sierra: hii sweets, i know this is a little late lol.. but home love island they stressing me tf out (if u watch ttm!!). But anyways this is really just an opening to this little series yum still working on, if you guys like this enough i will definitely keep continuing. Also if you wanna be on the tab list just lmk and i got you !

✎ synopsis: Azzi Fudd didn’t plan to see Paige Bueckers again. She didn’t plan to feel anything either—not the nostalgia, not the anger, and definitely not the ache in her chest. But when the past walks back into the same room—wearing a ring and someone else’s name—plans don’t really stand a chance. Some people move on. Some people move home. And some people… never stop wondering what if. This wasn’t the plan. But when has anything ever gone according to plan?

✎ taglist: @asapeveryday @thaatdigitaldiary

Azzi Fudd—that’s me.

Or at least, it’s the name they put on magazine covers, Instagram tags, and those weird commercials for skincare products where I smile like there’s no tomorrow.

Nothing real. Nothing close to the truth.

Because if you’d looked harder, you’d see the silence beneath the noise.

The way I disappeared.

The half-smile that never quite made it past my lips.

Leaving? That was the easy part.

Coming back? That’s the one that really hits.

—

Airports and I have an understanding: I hate them.

They smell like fake soap and stress you can’t avoid, and this one was no exception.

Hoodie pulled halfway up, suitcase dragging behind like it owed me money. Not really rushing. At least not anymore.

Today wasn’t another gig, another brand deal, another event I was supposed to pretend I cared about.

I was just… back. Washington.

For better. Or worse.

My phone buzzed nonstop the minute I landed. I didn’t even need to look.

I knew it was Aaliyah, she’s been texting me more and more ever since I told her I would be coming back home.

lili 💕 (12:11 PM): did you land???

lili 💕 (12:12 PM): how was the flight

lili 💕 (12:13 PM): DID YOU BRING ME ANYTHING

lili 💕 (12:14 PM): azzi jazlyn mf fudd.

lili 💕 (12:14 PM): why do you hate me??

I rolled my eyes and scoffed. Some things don’t change.

(12:15 PM): oh please

(12:15 PM): the government is crazy and foul lili

(12:15 PM): also pls stop texting 4 times in 2 minutes

lili 💕 (12:16 PM): sue me???

lili 💕 (12:16 PM): i’m hungry we’re getting lunch together!

(12:16 PM): bold of you to think i haven’t eaten since yesterday

lili 💕 (12:16 PM): what’s wrong w u

(12:16 PM): next question

(12:17 PM): calling a cab, try not to rush me i WILL stay home.

Acting calm was the plan. But inside, I was losing it.

I hadn’t had something to look forward to in months. Maybe years.

Cold hit my face stepping outside like it was punching a bag labeled Azzi Fudd.

Welcome back, Washington. (kill me.)

My career? Thriving in its own weird way.

Modeling worked out better than basketball ever did.

People still recognized me. “Oh, you’re the one who hates Gatorade.”

Yeah. I hate it. Passionately. Coconut water overrules easily.

But me? I was a mess.

Emotionally? A bigger mess.

Romantically? Don’t even ask.

The divorce was quiet.

Just a handful of people knew about the year I spent undoing the damage he did—his insecurities, his control, the noise that wasn’t love.

And now? He was gone, I thank the man above.

lili 💕 (12:19): i have news IMPORTANT news which you need to hurry your ass here for :)

(12:25 PM): on my way. what’s the tea?

aaliyah (12:25 PM): not telling. but it’s good. you might even scream.

(12:26 PM): better not be no new gatorade flavor you’re excited about

aaliyah (12:27 PM): you’re dramatic

(12:30 PM): literally poison, y’all sick

I dropped my phone on my lap and leaned back.

This place wasn’t home anymore.

But at least I didn’t have to pretend today.

Soon, overpriced brunch with the one person who made me feel okay when nothing else did.

I didn’t know it yet, but this was the beginning.

Not perfect. Not easy.

But real.

The cab was quiet—the kind of quiet I liked.

Tipped the driver like I was throwing cash at my anxiety.

Brain fueled by airplane snacks and two hours of sleep.

Pulling up to my mom’s place felt like rewinding a VHS.

Same cracked driveway with the basketball court. Same faded welcome mat yelling Come in and stay awhile.

Key under the mat (because yes, mom still did that), and there she was—Katie, scrubbing dishes like I hadn’t just flown cross-country, like none of the last few years even happened.

“Az!”

Her voice was warm, like a hug you never wanted to let go of.

She hugged me tight. I hugged back harder than I meant to. Missed this. Wouldn’t say it.

“I thought you landed at three,” Mom said, studying my face. “You look tired. Hungry?”

I was about to lie.

Then Dad’s voice came from down the hall.

“Who’s that? My superstar?”

Tim grinned like he always did, like he had no clue.

I laughed. “Hi, Dad.”

“How’s LA? How’s Jackson? He with you?”

Damn it dad really?

“Dad. We’re divorced. Remember?”

His smile slipped like he was caught in a sitcom dad moment.

“Oh—right. You told us. Or—after?”

I gave him a look.

He scratched his neck. “Aaliyah said something first. Figured I’d wait for you to say it official—”

Mom smacked his arm with a towel. “You weren’t supposed to say that.”

I shook my head, heading for the door. “Y’all are unbelievable.”

“Y’know we just love you!” Mom called after me.

“Uh huh sure.”

“Where you headed?” Dad asked, disappearing into the pantry.

“Lunch.”

“Oh, you and Paige catching up already?”

I froze.

Not dramatic. Just paused. Like my brain short-circuited and rebooted.

Paige. That name. I hadn’t heard it in months. Maybe years.

I looked back slow. “Paige?”

Mom nodded, sipping coffee. “Yeah. She moved back after you left. You didn’t know?”

“Mm mm.” I shook my head.

Suddenly I didn’t know what to do with my hands. Or my brain.

Paige was back.

She was here.

Why wouldn’t the universe wait for me to be freshly divorced, scrambled, unprepared?

Mom tilted her head. “I thought you two were still close after everything. Best friends don’t just stop talking.”

I was about to say something when—

Honk.

A loud, dramatic honk from outside.

I moved to the window, already knowing what I’d see.

Aaliyah, sunglasses on, head out the window like she was about to start a protest.

“AZZI. DO YOU NOT CHECK YOUR PHONE?! LET’S GO!”

I didn’t say anything to the crazy canadian. Just looked at my parents, waved like everything was normal, and booked it out the door.

Aaliyah stared like I owed her rent once I got in the car.

“Do you have government-level Do Not Disturb or something? I’ve been waiting ten minutes. This is disrespectful.”

I laughed. “Hi to you too.”

“You’re annoying.”

“I missed you.”

“Drive.”

She did.

I didn’t say anything about Paige. Not yet.

Some things you don’t unpack in the car.

But I felt it. The knot in my stomach.

The one that only shows up with that name.

Aaliyah drives like her life depends on it, even when it doesn’t. One hand on the wheel, one scrolling Spotify, acting like she didn’t just honk up a storm.

“You want music or no?”

“Your call. But no moody playlist.”

“It’s actually good.”

“Depression.”

“You literally just got divorced.”

“Woww really?”

“I missed you. What do you want me to say?”

“Something nice?”

“Your hair looks good.”

I ran my hand through my curls, smirking. “Thanks.”

“Better than when you were with what’s-his-face.”

“Jackson.”

“Right. The walking dry erase board.”

I laughed. “You’re mean.”

“Honest.”

“He looked like he called his mom before every decision.”

“You hated him from day one.”

“You fumbled your twenties.”

I laughed again. Felt good. Like exhaling after holding your breath too long. “Enough about my tragic past. What about you and Prince Charming?”

“Don’t call him that.”

“You called him ‘God’s apology for your exes’ last time.”

“Okay, true. But now he’s into Formula 1 and thinks he’s a pro driver.”

“Real love.”

“Shut up. Anyway, this is about you. Your ‘starting over’ era.”

“Enough.”

“Girl you modeled for Vogue.”

“Digital Vogue.”

“Still Vogue.”

I stared out the window. City the same but not. Or maybe I was. My timeline never matched everyone else’s. Basketball didn’t go like Paige’s or the others’. It stings.

“I feel behind.”

“Behind what?”

“Everyone. Everything. Like I’m still figuring it out.”

“The finish line’s fake. Nobody’s really ‘there.’ They’re just pretending better.” I smiled. Sounds like something mom or Paige might’ve said before everything changed. “This got deep.”

“Restart. Tell me something dumb.”

“I still hate Gatorade. Whole chest hate.”

“You’re the only basketball player ever who says that.”

“I’m not a player anymore.”

“Still hoop in your sleep.”

“Trauma.”

“Okay Dr. Phil, relax.”

We laughed. The silence between felt like understanding. Aaliyah pulled up to the cafe more aggressively than needed.

“I’ve been holding this in for days.”

“Don’t make that face.”

“What face?”

“That face where you pretend not to care but don’t blink for three minutes.”

I threw the door open.

“No idea what you mean.”

“You’re doing it right now.”

I shrugged. “Spill.”

We sat barely ten minutes before I started bouncing my leg. “Spill. You’ve been dying to tell me since yesterday. She sipped water. “Let’s ease into it?”

“No. Sun’s out. You’re suspicious. Spill.” She groaned. “Why do you always bully me?”

“Because you have a big mouth until it matters.” She smiled nervously. “Okay. I’m engaged.”

I gasped loud. Old couple nearby flinched.

“Shut up. Lying.”

“Nope.”

“Shut up!”

“Stop yelling.”

“Will not! You’re engaged??”

“Yes.”

I grabbed her hand. “Where’s the ring? How? When? Who?” She blushed. “Boat ride. Cheesy. Sweet. I cried a lot.”

I sat back clutching my chest. “This is so cute. I’m so happy for you lili.”

Then she muttered something.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Aaliyah.”

“I’m doing a double engagement party…with Paige.”

I blinked. “With who?”

“Paige. She’s engaged too. And her fiancé is kind of cool.”

My brain blue-screened. Hands dropped.

“You’re joking.”

“No.”

“To Paige Bueckers.”

“Yes.”

Jaw open. “You knew she was here? Engaged? And you dropped this mid-convo like it was nothing?”

“I thought it’d be fine.”

“Aaliyah.”

“Okay, yes, I screwed up. Don’t kill me, but you guys can’t avoid each other forever Az.” She said with her fake sappy face. “I’m not avoiding anything okay?” I said knowing damn well.

I dropped my face in my hands. “Need a drink.”

“It’s noon.”

“Exactly.”

“You were actually exciting to see.”

“I am.”

She smiled nervous. “If it makes you feel better—”

“Don’t.”

“Okay.”

“I mean—ugh. Double engagement party?”

“Not planned that way!”

I looked up at the ceiling. “Did you ask how I’d feel being in the same room as Paige Bueckers and her fiancé?”

She winced. “No.”

“Oh great. Reassuring.”

Silent clinking. My mind racing.

“She’s not supposed to be here.”

“Where?”

“In Washington.”

“She grew up here too.”

“Okay, like six years.”

“You don’t own the city.”

“I’m just saying. She left, I left. I thought—”

“You thought you could pretend she didn’t exist?”

I said nothing. Jaw clenched.

“She’s not Voldemort.”

“Shut up.”

“You gonna be okay?”

“I don’t know. Haven’t seen her, but I already feel hit by a bus.”

“It’s okay if you cancel. Don’t come.”

“Miss your party? I’m petty not heartless.”

She smiled. “That’s my girl.”

“But if she looks at me like I’m that same girl from college—”

“You’ll what?”

“Probably cry. on my fifth glass of champagne.”

She snorted. “So dramatic.”

“Says the girl who fake-passed out so a guy wouldn’t break up with her.”

“Bought me three more days.”

I laughed, tired but real. Looked out at the cloudy sky. People walking by. Couples holding hands. Dogs in sweaters. Phone-yelling men.

The world spins. Doesn’t care who’s married, heartbroken, or pretending not to be wrecked by a name no one says out loud.

“You think she’ll actually show with her?”

Aaliyah paused. “It’s her party too. But Paige is Paige.”

I nodded. True.

Silence thick. Not awkward. Just heavy. I pulled out my phone. She peeked.

“Who ya texting there?” Jeez ms nosy.

“No one.”

I lied.

Almost typed Paige’s name.

Almost sent a text.

But didn’t.

Not yet. Maybe never.

Smiled at Aaliyah. “Dessert?”

She raised an eyebrow but didn’t push. “You’re taking this better than I thought.” I shrugged. “Growth.”

But my mind spun fast—dangerously—whenever Paige Bueckers was involved. Because I’m good at hiding. Too good. Hiding cracks in my marriage. Bruises from love that wasn’t love. Late at night, I still dream in jump shots, gold medals, blonde ponytails, and what-if.

Years of practice folding feelings into sharp-edged smiles. Yeah, I looked fine. If Aaliyah could see inside, she’d cancel the party.

Instead, I speared a piece of cheesecake. Ate it like I wasn’t thinking about the last time Paige hugged me.

Smelled like spearmint and stress and something I can’t name. “Mmm. You’re paying.”

She side-eyed me. “Emotional blackmail. Toxic.”

I smiled. Dimples and all. “Learned from the best.” Outside, rain finally picked a side. Soft and quiet. The kind that makes you remember.

I didn’t look out the window again.

I didn’t have to.

The past was already here.

And oh boy was I not ready to go back.

——

Most people think heartbreak is loud.

That it kicks down the door and wrecks everything in its path. That it screams. Demands. Destroys.

But sometimes it’s quiet.

Sometimes it waits.

Lurks in the corners of your good days, and whispers on the bad ones. Like the song you swore you deleted. Like the sweatshirt you still sleep in. Like a name that still makes your chest pull in strange directions.

Paige Bueckers is in love.

That’s what she tells herself every morning, brushing her teeth in a bathroom she shares with the woman she’s going to marry.

That’s what she tells Taryn, when they hold hands across the table, planning wedding playlists and reception seating like none of it feels like choreography.

That’s what she tells Aaliyah. When she’s brave enough to ask.

And maybe she is.

Maybe this is love.

Not the kind that explodes.

But the kind that folds your laundry. Buys oat milk. Remembers your mom’s birthday.

Love with clean lines and good lighting.

But sometimes, when the world goes quiet—

She still thinks about her.

Azzi.

She’s not supposed to.

It’s been years. People move on. People grow. People change. But memory doesn’t care about growth.

Memory’s a cruel little thing.

It brings her back anyway.

And sometimes, that’s worse than forgetting.

———

The morning starts like most do.

Paige wakes up to the smell of eggs she always asks for the night before and a Spotify playlist that sounds like it’s personally attacking her sleep schedule.

Taryn’s singing. Loud. Enthusiastic. Completely off-key. It’s 8:52 a.m. and already the kitchen is full of syrup and sunshine.

And love.

Real love.

So Paige gets up. Smiles. Stretches like everything in her body and head isn’t heavy. She grabs the hoodie off the chair—Taryn’s favorite one to steal—and pads into the kitchen barefoot.

“You’re awake!” Taryn beams. She’s flipping pancakes with way too much joy for someone who worked a night shift. “You ruined the breakfast-in-bed surprise. Rude.”

Paige kisses her cheek. “M’bad. Smelled the cinnamon, had to come .”

Taryn laughs. “I gotta keep my fiancée on her toes.”

Paige smiles again. It almost reaches her eyes.

She should feel full. Loved. Settled.

But there’s a flicker.

A familiar static in the back of her head.

Azzi.

Still there.

Even now.

Even here.

Paige takes a bite of pancake. Nods like it tastes perfect. Doesn’t mention how it sticks to her throat. She pretends she doesn’t notice the ring on her finger feels tighter today.

———

Earlier today

The message comes at 9:42 a.m.

Right as Paige is rinsing out a protein shake she didn’t finish.

aaliyah (9:42 AM): btw. azzi’s in town. like. now.

also. don’t freak out

also. don’t throw up

also. don’t be weird at the party ! bye!

The phone doesn’t vibrate again. It doesn’t need to. Paige just stares. Until the screen fades to black. Then flips it face down like it burned her.

Azzi.

Back.

Here.

Now.

Washington was supposed to be safe. This city was supposed to be after. Not again.

Her hands are wet from the sink. But they’re shaking, so she blames the water. She continues her day folding laundry. Answering emails. Working out and overthinking. Halfway through, she realizes she’s folding that hoodie again.

The one Azzi used to steal.

The one Azzi wore the night they said too much and not enough. Taryn walks in, gym bag slung over her shoulder.

“You good?” she asks. Paige doesn’t flinch. Too well-practiced. “Yeah. Just… thinking.” Taryn raises an eyebrow. “Scary.”

“Shut up.”

Taryn kisses her forehead. “Love you.”

“Love you too.”

She means it. She does.

But her chest stays quiet.

The rest of the day is a blur.

Paige doesn’t cry. She doesn’t fall apart. She’s grown. She’s evolved. She makes slushies and answers calls. But her brain keeps looping back.

To Azzi’s laugh in the tunnel before games.

To the way she said Paige’s name when no one was listening.

To that fight. That ending. That almost.

She opens Instagram.

Azzi’s profile is now public after having her blocked every other month.

Paige scrolls.

Just once.

Just enough to see that smile. The effortless one that used to be hers to witness.

She closes the app. Opens it again five minutes later.

She types out a message.

Deletes it.

Types it again.

Closes her phone like it said something unforgivable.

She throws it onto the couch.

Watches it bounce.

Tells herself she’s fine.

Tells herself she’s over it.

Tells herself she’s happy.

Tells herself she’s in love.

Repeats it until it sounds like static.

———

There’s a pair of sneakers in the back of her closet.

White with gold trim.

Barely worn.

Azzi once said they were her favorite.

Paige almost donates them every year.

But they’re still there.

Still clean.

Still hers.

Like a maybe she never let go of.

Like a version of herself she keeps buried under meal prep and wedding plans. Somewhere across the city, Azzi is back. And Paige is pretending her whole body didn’t react to that message like it was a live wire.

She sits on the couch. Legs folded. Hoodie sleeves pulled over her hands.

She thinks about texting her again.

She doesn’t.

Instead, she whispers her name into an empty room like it might echo.

“Azzi.”

She says it soft. Like an apology. Like a prayer.

Like she’s still in love with a memory.

Like she doesn’t know what she’s doing anymore.

Because maybe love isn’t loud.

Maybe it’s quiet.

Maybe it’s the part of you that never really left.

Even when you swore you moved on.

Paige Bueckers is in love.

She just doesn’t know who with.

Not anymore.

[wrotebymii]

WROTEBYMII’s MASTERLIST | Braindump hell.

As said in READ ME I am no responsible for the media you consume, but understand that my blog is 18+ I have posts that aren’t suitable for younger ages.

Please, self preservation is more important than any lame blog.

This will update with works of fandoms I’m in along with updates of what im currently working on and future ideas!

KEY= fluff ◡̈ | angst 𖦹 | smut ღ | head-canons ⌗ | TBW ✎ | series 𝄞

ᯓ DATE EVERYTHING

╰➤ MAYBE ITS ME… | Date Everything x gn!reader 𖦹 𝄞

Part One | Two | Three | Four

You aren’t sure why but almost every dateable hates you and you’re starting to wonder if you’re the problem.

╰➤ OBJECT WHISPERER | Date Everything x gn!reader ◡̈ ⌗

Before you got your dateaviator you unknowingly had made relationships with the appliances and knickknacks around you home.

╰➤EVERYTHING HAS A PLACE | Date Everything x gn!reader ⌗ ◡̈

How life is with the objects and their autistic homeowner.

╰➤ DISH IT OUUUT | Curt ‘n Rod x gn!reader ◡̈

Curt and Rod tease you, so you dish out—not just shade—but playful revenge.

╰➤ WARNING SHOCK | Volt x Eddie x gn!Reader ღ ✎

Eddie and Volt find out you have a voice kink.

╰➤ HOUSE FIEND | Date Everything x gn!reader ◡̈ 𝄞

Part One

You are the friend of the Homeowner, they need you to house sit for a month. During the time weird things happen that you hope to ignore.

ᯓ ARCANE

╰➤ TIL’ WE MEET AGAIN | Silco x Fem!reader (HIATUS) ◡̈ 𝄞𖦹

SERIES MASTERLIST

Young, dumb, and mostly feral is how some would describe the new underground rebellion group within the shadows of the undercity. You were indifferent to the revolt— in favor of worrying about your own survival, but you morals have seen to shift when you rescue someone in fending off an Enforcer. Morals in support of the birth of Zaun.

ᯓ K-POP DEMON HUNTERS

╰➤

[caustic--soda]

Sakura and Water

Throughout the series, we see certain characters typically represented with elements of nature—predominantly, fire. However, I find it quite interesting how Sakura is associated with water instead.

The most egregious example of the former is Takiishi, who’s portrayed [in the manga’s art] with flames around him and is described as an ‘inferno’ by Endo.

He’s also shown to set his (metaphorical) world ablaze as he walks through it in Chapter 153—which brings us to our next contender, Umemiya.

Umemiya is also associated with fire (though his flames are blue), which is quite ironic given that everyone Furin student follows the common theme of having a tree or plant in their name. After all, fire sets nature and foliage ablaze, destroying it in the process.

Endo also alludes to Ume being similar to a fire (ie. a source of heat). He especially highlights this fact during Noroshi’s final battle.

Although he isn’t exactly portrayed with flames around him, Endo does have a connection to fire. The 棪 character in 棪堂 (Endo) has the Japanese radical for fire (火) in it twice—after all, his character is staunchly connected to both Takiishi and Umemiya. He expresses the desire to burn Sakura down:

I’m also aware that Hiiragi is drawn with fire around him in his Bishamoten art but I couldn’t find a place to fit him in this post so this is just a footnote

As I’ve mentioned at the beginning, Sakura is portrayed with motifs related to water. The only exception is when he’s first shown to team up with Sugishita as both of them have flames rage in the backdrop. Perhaps fire (in a rather ironic sense) symbolizes an inherent connection to Bofurin and it’s students/allies.

Since fire is connected to Furin, Sakura being represented with motifs related to water merely solidifies his status as an outsider. Fire and water have always been considered opposites, both thematically and in the real world.

This theme is especially prevalent during the Noroshi arc. When Sakura discovers Tsubaki’s collapsed body and has his dead wife flashback likens it to Nirei in KEEL, we see a large volume water douse him in order to illustrate his shock.

In the next page we see Sakura begin to sink in a body of water, hinting at his slow mental decline during his fight with Endo. It also symbolizes how unsure and insecure he is, as Sakura thinks of his peers advice and thoughts.

Though, the thought of his community by itself manages to pull Sakura back up and focus on Endo again, but this moment foreshadows what is about to come of Sakura’s fight with Endo.

When Endo digs into Sakura’s insecurities, Sakura loses himself—and drowns as snakes (representing Endo) pull him even deeper into the water.

What makes this symbolism especially cruel is the fact that Sakura doesn’t know how to swim. He’s unable resurface on his own (both literally and in a metaphorical sense), having to rely on his peers to help him—though Endo makes it out to be Sakura dragging his friends down instead.

Sakura does eventually come back up and defeats Endo—and indirectly reaffirms Ume to win his fight with Chika. Additionally, Bofurin would’ve been in much more trouble if Sakura had never contact their allies to assist in the war. In a way, maybe water (Sakura) managed to douse the Great Fires of Extinction (Noroshi).

Sakura being the water to Umemiya/Endo/Chika/Furin’s fire also makes Hashirao’s connection of Sakura and that trio implausible and ironic.

This brings us back to Chapter 184, in which he doesn’t come in direct contact with the river of Makoichi. Instead, it reflects off of hos face.

Throughout his conversation with Natsuki, he divulges his own feelings to her in order to put them on an equal emotional footing. He reflects on his past experiences (with an unreadable expression) in the process, many of which involved him grappling with similar emotions as Natsuki.

It’s important to note that Sakura and Natsuki converse near the bridge where the Noroshi vs Bofurin war had begun. Despite the battle being difficult for Sakura (as his and fears insecurities were brought to the forefront in the arc) and water having a general connotation to his negative emotions, Sakura is able to accept his fears and divulge them when needed.

Bonus: Sakura is able to differentiate the taste between certain types of water. He’s either sensitive to flavor, or he’s accustomed to noticing the differences in something as plain as water (I assume had to drink from various sources of water due to his neglect). Kid’s had it rough growing up

[savanir]

Ghost Writer planned on just leaving that brat Phantom and his two living friends to muck about in that other universe for a short thirty years or so. Twenty if he was feeling generous.

But things get rapidly more complicated when after a week he has time to reorganise the comic section and sees that the comic pile the brats left has multiplied.

Upon closer inspection he sees several new solo runs he didn't know about, a few team ups. A brand new justice league dark series called Spectral Designs.

He picks the last one up and flips through it. He quickly realises that the series is trying to explain the sudden appearance of Phantom and his friends.

He mutters under his breath, "- as seen in Tech Pharaoh, Kobra attacks nr.4... see Poison Ivy special, the Rot returns... Greta meets Phantom for the first time when she was on Apokolips? Since when!?"

He zips over to the cabinets and goes through the series still stored there.

"Wh- they're changing the past!"

The entrance doors of his library slam open and Skulker stalks in with Ember happily trotting besides him. She's probably here to check out any new music records. But this does give Ghost Writer the opportunity to vent so he floats over to do so, complaining on and on about that brat Phantom to Skulker, if someone understands its him.

Only, he looks incredibly confused.

"Who're you talking about... Phantom?"

Ember looks up from her own stuff, "isn't he like a comic book character?"

Skulker shrugs, "I don't read comics"

"You don't read period, did the writers do something stupid in his story or something book nerd?"

Ghost Writer flounders, "are you two trying to prank me? Phantom, Danny Phantom, the halfa, brat menace, the one you want to skin."

Both of them look at him like he's finally lost it. Or well, lost it more than before that is.

For a hot minute he thinks about checking with Walker. If anyone knows about Phantom and won't try to prank him about it it's him. But then he remembers that Walker hates his guts since the Christmas thing.

"Screw this! Out of my library, I have something important to do!"

His haunt pushes the two now unwanted guests out and Ghost Writer rushes off in a direction no sane ghost would head into under any other circumstances.

Unless they were Phantom...

Gah! Why does it always become a gigantic mess when that brat is involved!

The clock tower looms dark and ominously over him.

The entire place fills him with dread. The ticking and clicking of the clocks and their gears seem threatening somehow.

Ghost Writer carefully peeks into the inner sanctum area where one lone ever shifting Ghost floats.

"Uhm.."

"I know why you're here," his voice echoes through the room.

Ah, he's not happy...

"So it's not a prank?"

Side eye from the ancient of time? Ghost Writer shrinks a little. He's really not happy.

"As you have seen things are already shifting to accommodate what happened."

"So how do we-" cough, "- how do I fix this?"

Clockwork looms over Ghost Writer who shrinks even further, "all is as it should be, your punishment will be remembering and living with the regret."

Ghost Writer makes a meek little eep noise before fleeing and Clockwork floats back to one of his mirrors.

Danny is currently going through one hell of a space adventure on New Genesis with the new gods there after wrecking his way through Apokolips and fleeing the place.

On new Genesis Lightray and Orion are assigned to keep an eye on him and figure him out and while Danny and Lightray get along like a house on fire, Orion couldn't be more moody about the situation if he tried.

Clockwork sighs, things could be worse.

The DC universe has clearly taken a liking to Danny and his friends and is going out of its way to accommodate them.

Still... he's already gotten a visit from a sulky yeti and a furious amazonian. It's surprising that the observants haven't shown up to complain yet. Though, they might think this is a good development.

Either way, it's only a matter of time before someone else does something universe shifting, Daniel has that kind of effect on people after all.

DP x DC Prompt [31]

"That's it! I've had it with you lot!!" Ghost Writer screeches as he sees the mess Danny and his friends made of his library's comic section. Batman's detective series strewn about, action comics in every direction, secret six, suicide squad, doom patrol, the outsiders. Its like a DC-splosion.

"Whoa man, we'll put them back, no need to-"

"You pests need what's called in the comic world-"

And a massive ominous glowing N52 starts hovering above Ghost Writer "-a reboot!"

"No wait- stop!"

But the three of them get slammed with the letter and numbers the size of a truck before they can do anything else and they get tossed right in the middle of the latest DC universe ending crisis.

[crowleysgirl56]

CW: Discussions of N*il G*iman.

TW: N*il G*iman

Hello again Good Omens fandom and community. A gentle reminder as it’s now gone one year since the allegations against Neil Gaiman were made public (how has it only been a year when it feels like a decade ago already?). As a fandom community I know we hold Good Omens and the characters close to our hearts, and this past year has been an extremely troubling and upsetting time. We are never going to please everyone with our condemnation of the author and our remaining in the fandom. I understand that. But I feel it’s important to remind everyone of what he is, what he did, and why we should still be talking about it. New people enter the fandom all the time and it’s important that they are aware of what he did so they don’t fall into idolisation and parasocial traps.

As I have said before I no longer support NG, his extended works, or his narrative. He has become a dark stain on what was once a beautiful community. We are still vibrant and beautiful and supportive of each other, but there will always remain a dark cloud now.

I know I continue to post enthusiastically my thoughts about the finale, meta analysis, headcanons, and sharing of other ideas and beautiful artwork. Because I still want this place to be the happy place it started off as before the whole entire world started going to shit.

But it’s important to remind everyone now and again of what happened and what he did so they remain informed. So for those of you new to the Good Omens community (and I’ve seen quite a few of you recently), please remember we do NOT stand with NG. He is an horrifically abusive and manipulative person and it is important that you do not revere, admire, idolise or respect him in any way. He has lost that privilege when he placed his hands on a woman without permission. He is nothing to us now. He has been cast out of this community and he will never be welcome back. Ever. He doesn’t get to play the waiting game and slink back in when he thinks the heat has died down. We will be waiting and we will tear him apart if he steps foot in any fandom community again. We will remember. We will not forget.

If you are brand new to Good Omens and you somehow have no idea what I’m talking about, or you have a vague idea but still don’t know the story, then I highly recommend watching Vera from Council of Geeks YouTube videos on the matter. She has made five videos and they’re all very thorough and informative without going into the specific and horrific details of the allegations. (I’ve linked the first video in the series).

I don’t expect everyone to made a comment about NG. I don’t think you should have to. But it’s still important to acknowledge what happened, what is continuing to happen and what you can do moving forward.

If you feel like you need to do something, then I highly recommend visiting the website Take Back The Night, which provides support to those affected by sexual violence.

https://takebackthenight.org

Always much love to this fandom, my followers and my mutuals. You make the internet a better place.

[whotookcry]

YOU LIKE ME?

(Jason is like a nervous freak in this bare with me, and I’m turn this into a series, have faith 🥹 )

I shivered at the cold ac air hitting me from above. Terrible seats. I turn to my cousin (it’s me I’m your cousin) who was shivering just the same as I was. “You sure know how to pick ‘em.” He snickers rubbing his left arm to create some type of warmth. “Hey, I don’t want to be here either! My dad made me come in his place.” It was true, my father who just had to go to Mexico to see if his beach house was still standing after the hurricane, told me to come in his place. ‘It’s perfect publicity for you, mija. You’re gonna be just like me!’ I could hear the sickening yet loving grin on his face through the phone. He was already on a plane before I could even have a chance to say no.

“Don’t say that to the PR people outside.” He laughed hitting my arm. “Rich people.”

“You say that as if you aren’t rich either?” I shove his arm away, rolling my eyes to pay attention to the people waltzing and pretending to have a good time with their spouses. “I’m more middle class compared to you. Thank you very much.”

We both huddled closer, almost like penguins, before the ac shut off again. “Whose party is this anyways. The music kinda sucks.”

Before I could respond to Marcus, a red spot clouded the side of my vision. I look up to see the Jason Todd and Dick Grayson making their way past our table. “…excuse us..” he uttered forcing himself to look away from us and hurry along. “Ooohh girl. Isn’t that-“

“Please don’t remind me.”

Did I have a one night stand with him? Perhaps.

Was it a lapse in judgement? Of course!

Will I do it again? NO THE FUCK I WON’T!

“What an asshole! Pretending he doesn’t know about your little….night together.” Marcus giggled beside me. “Marcus, please shut up.”

“Sorry! Sorry, but still! What kind of man treats someone like that!” I nod in agreement to him. We both lean back in our seats, staring at Jason sitting with his family refusing to look up from the table. “He’s so-“

“Hot. Yeah I agree. You really fumbled that.”

“Oh my god!” I hit his arm as he laughs. “Kidding! He fumbled you, girl.”

“He’s just so confusing! It aggravated me. First he tells me ‘oh well you look gorgeous tonight’ and then fucks me. Then refused to talk about it. THEN BLOCKS ME? Make it make sense!”

“I’ll tell you one thing I live by. Men are men….except me of course! I’m an anomaly.” He jokes. “I’m sure you are.” I turn back to the crowd of people finally moving to sit back down for announcements.

Bruce Wayne makes his way to the podium, first thanking everyone for coming and hoping everyone is enjoying their evening. “I’d also like to say a special thank you to the (last name) family, for their wonderful donations to support the Wayne foundation helping kids all around the world!”

It was like a spotlight hit both Marcus and I in that moment. “Now why the fuck would they put a spot like light on us.” Marcus said between closed teeth grinning helping me up to wave at everyone. I mimicked his action as everyone clapped around us. “He didn’t tell about no damn donation. Fuck me.” I say through a tight smile. The light turned off and we sit back down. “Please don’t tell me we have to make a speech.” I turn to Marcus who already had a finger on his nose. (nose goes) “You’re such a bit-“

“Please come on down!” Bruce said over the speakers. I flash a fake smile before standing back up again and walking slowly to the podium next to the tall buff man. I fix my dress and stand in front of the podium, my fake smile now turning to a nervous one. “WOW, what a great turn out tonight!” Fuck keep it simple. “I just have to say, what an inspiration Mr. Bruce Wayne for even starting a campaign like this! Everyone give him a hand first and foremost!” Almost on cue they all clap as I shine grace on the man next to me. ‘Fuck what else do I say.’ “I truly believe, that this foundation is one of the most powerful and important foundations that has come across the nations. It truly starts with our youth! We have to be there to protect them first. They are our future.”

I’m running out of words. Shit.

“I’m extremely grateful for such a kind man to want to help the kids out there who don’t have anyone else to turn to. We will continue to support you on your future endeavors and thank you for all that you do. My father may not have been able to make it tonight to thank you himself, but I’m sure he would have been very proud of what an amazing foundation you’ve been able to build.”

‘Please get me off this wack ass stage.’

I turn to wave at the crowd as they clap and cheer. Marcus catches my eye, he was covering his mouth, trying not to laugh. ‘Fuck I’m about to laugh too.’ My lips fold back inside my mouth as I give a firm hand shake to Bruce before walking off the stage. He continues talking as I hurry to the table. “Stop fucking laughing.” I whisper to Marcus as he covers his face trying to calm himself down. “Oh I could just tell you were about to freak out. Your ears were so red!” He choked out behind his hands. My face flushed before I punched his shoulder. “I didn’t fucking know what to say idiot. I should have made you come up there with me!”

“Oh I would have said way worse. Been like ‘oh yeah cool foundation, I don’t know what it’s for but sounds nice.’ Or some shit.” I covered my own mouth breathing heavily trying not to bust out laughing. “Stop. We are in public.”

His shoulders start to shake. “I’m sorry. I just- your dad is so going to have a fit about you not mentioning how much he has donated. You know he loves to brag.” I shut my eyes now after seeing Marcus leaning forward to hide behind the table. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

A small snort comes out of his nose making the table next to us look back. “People are looking stop.” Which only made his shoulders shake faster. I look forward to Bruce still talking. “Fuck is he ever gonna stop talking.”I mumble out making Marcus practically start crying. “Oh my god stop crying, it looks like you’re crying over what he’s saying.” I hit his back making him calm down. He sits up straight wiping his tears off. “We are gonna need a drink after this.” He let out a huge breath from deep inside his lungs. “I’m good. I’m good.”

I look back tonight the stage to see him now talking about another project he’s working on. I glance around seeing everyone mostly invested in what he’s saying. - pair of eye catch mine. “He’s fucking looking over here.” I fix my posture and stare back, ugly, making Jason turn away again. “Hey, say the words and I’ll beat him up in the men’s bathroom.” Marcus huffed leaning back in his chair. “Yeah right. Security would rip you out of there before you could get him with the amount of shit you talk.” We both smile at each other at the thought of before the lights go back to normal. “Thank fucking god, he’s done talking.” Marcus stands up. “I’m gonna go get us drinks. Tequila?” He asks smirking slightly, “we can’t get fucked up here!….but yeah just one.”

“Perfect.” He spins on his heel to the direction of the bar, moving quickly before the hoard of middle aged woman try to stock up on wine. I cross my legs in front of me as the ac kicks on again. “Fuck I should have brought a jacket.”

“Would you like me to tell them to turn it off?” I jump at the voice behind me. “Mister Wayne! Hi! How are you?” I ask nervously before standing up to properly greet him. “I’m great. How are you and your father getting along. I heard he had to make a quick trip out the country.” I sighed, “you heard right. He left early this morning to Mexico. Hurricane season is bad this year.” He nods in agreement, “oh most definitely. Hopefully I’ll see him again sometime this week.”

“You have his number, no?” He shakes his head at my question. “Your father’s quite the escape artist. I look one way, he’s there, turn for a second, he’s gone.” I laugh, “sounds like him. Here, I’ll put in it your phone. I’m sure he would love to catch up with you.” Mr Wayne hands his phone over, smiling down at me.

A text appears at the top.

Bruce! Stop talking to her! You’re going to embarrass me! PLEASE!

I squint at the message still typing in my father’s details into the phone.

“We would also love to have your family over for dinner.” Bruce chimes in obviously knowing I seen the message from Jason. “I uh-“

“I’ll text your father the details. Thank you for coming tonight.” He puts a hand on my shoulder and gently squeezes it as if comforting me. The phone disappears from my hand as well as him. “…….” I turn back to see Mr. Wayne now mingling with the next table. “…what-“

“I’m back!” Marcus yells with two dressed ultras in one arm and an entire bottle of reposado. “How the fuck did you get the bottle?!” “I tipped the bartender $300. Da fuck. They got more in the back. You’d be surprised how many of these old women are buying bottles of wine for their tables!” He sets everything down on the table. “We are not finishing that.”

“Here? Of course not. Once we leave? You already know the type of night we are about to have.” He gave a tooth grin before popping open the cork at the top of the bottle. “Open foo.” He forced my mouth open and poured a good amount of tequila down my throat. The smell burning my nose but moved so smoothly down my throat. I gulped it down before pushing the bottle back. “That was way too much!” “Perfect! Me next.” He hands me the bottle and gets on one knee so I could pour the light brown liquid down his throat. We both shiver after the fact before sitting and washing down the taste with a nice cold beer. “Could have been worse.”

At least our bodies are warm now.

“MIJA! What is this?” The door to my room is thrown open. I hold myself feeling the consequences of finishing the bottle and then some from last night. “What time is it?” I mumble groggy, trying to find the strength to sit up. “Look!” My father’s phone was shoved into my face as I pry my eyes open to look. “What?”

An invitation to dinner at some fancy Italian restaurant. “….he knows we aren’t Italian, right?” I croak looking at my father’s happy face. “I’m sure! Get up already and shower! It smells like alcohol in here!” He marches out, not closing the door behind him making me groan loudly and force myself up. I look down at the outfit from last night. “How the fuck did I get home?” I look around to see traces of Marcus but lord knows he’s already out drinking again. ‘You can’t get hung over if you never get sober.’ His voice ringing in my ears from past events that left me feeling like i needed a hospital while he pranced around unaffected from his drinking. I sigh to myself and trudge to the bathroom. “Fuck I look like shit.”

I showered, got decently dressed before walking down stairs to find Marcus eating lunch. “Took you long enough.” “Why are you still here?! How are you even here?!” I yell half way down the stairs. “I’m here to coach you on tonight. You’ll be meeting with your ex flings family and I can’t be there to protect you since…well I’m just your cousin not your brother…and your dad said I can’t go. SO! Let’s start with the basics.” I shake my head as I make it down to the kitchen table. “Please don’t call him my ex fling. It was one time.”

“Still! If you act any type of way. They will get suspicious of you both. Rule one, don’t even look at him. Rule two, matter of fact, don’t engage in any type of conversation with him.” I groaned, “I wasn’t planning too. I don’t even want to go!” I eyed Marcus’ sandwich which he happily pushed over to me. “I don’t understand why that family would even want a dinner with us?”

“Your dad seems ecstatic about it.” Marcus points out. I couldn’t deny how happy he seemed. ‘Fuck, I’ll take one for the team.’ Marcus continues telling me the dos and don’t of ‘ex sex partners’ as I grovel into the sandwich.

He leaves after an hour of lectures and unimaginable scenerios. My father forces me to get changed with a stylist at hand. “Make her look…cutesy!” Was his only request.

(You pick idc)

I spin around in the mirror. “I look so…cutesy.” I nod to myself confirming my father got his wish. I snatch a purse off the shelves in my closet and stuff it with necessities. Wallet. Check. Phone. Check. Pepper spray. Check.

Well that’s enough necessities for me.

I sling the small bag over my shoulder and hold my heels in hand.

“MIJA! THE CAR IS PULLING UP!” I heard my dad scream at the top of his lungs. I hurry down stairs and see him fixing himself up in the hallway mirror. “Oh look at you, rrrrrawr.” He rolls his tongue while smirking at himself. He flinches as he sees me giving him a weird look on the stairs. “You’re so weird, dad.”

“Mija! You look so beautiful!” He disregarded my comment and drags me to the car.

The ride was quick and the sinking feeling in my tummy was getting worse by the second. “Why do you think they invited us for dinner?” I ask my dad glancing over to him as he squints to read what ever is on his phone. “Probably a thank you dinner. You did really good by the way. Though you could have mentioned how much I donated.”

‘Of fucking course.’

“I didn’t even know you donated to him.” I huffed leaning back in my seat. “It’s not like he needs it. He’s already rich.”

“Baby! Please, let’s not be rude to Mr Wayne when we get there.” He ruffled my hair messing it up. “Dad!”

“Look we’re here!” He says excitedly as the door opens. Paparazzi swarmed the building. “Dad! I have a dress on!” He whisked his suit jacket off dramatically to cover me, earning ‘he’s such a gentlemen!’ From older women in the crowd. “Come mi vida.” He says once I’ve fixed myself. I lock arms with him and hurry my way inside. “Why is there so much paparazzi?!”

“Good evening-“

‘Oh, that’s why.’

We both turn around to see Bruce Wayne standing, smiling charmingly at the both of us. “….Bruce! How wonderful it is to see you!” My father spoke as he gave Bruce a big bear hug, catching the poor man off guard. “Please this way.” Bruce ushers us to a private room with an enormous table in the middle. “Jesus.” I mumble quietly. I walked behind them finding a seat at the other side of the room. “Sorry, my boys are running a bit late. They should be here shortly.”

‘Mane.’

I look over to see a green eyed boy sitting examining the cutlery. “…hey-“

“You must be the one my brother made love to-“

It was almost as if i was punched in the gut by a MMA fighter. “I’m sorry?”

“Apologies for his behavior. Please do not let his actions make you think less of the Wayne name.”

“…right….” Bruce and my father seemed to not have heard them, clearly caught up in their own conversation. I sit down next to the boy, putting my purse down next to him. “…so-“

“Oh he’s told me plenty. Well not me in particular but I did over hear the story at the dinner last night.”

‘So no how are you? What’s your name?’

“Alright!” I nodded vigorously convincingly myself that this little boy did not just tell me what I think he just told me. “Well I’m (yn)!”

“Damien.”

I nod again before propping my elbows on the table to hold my head up. “Pennyworth says elbows on the table is a sign of disrespect.”

‘Can I breathe?!’

“Right, sorry.” I remove myself off the table and put my hands on my lap, still trying to process what this kids problem was. I look over to him still playing with the cutlery. “The Penne All'Arrabbiata is very delicious here.”

‘Does this kid have adhd or something?!’

“Oh! Okay, thanks for the recommendation. I’ve never been here before.”

“Here,” he hands me his menu, “for you to look at.” He places it in front of me then sinks right back into his seat. I utter a quiet thank you before browsing the limited amount of options.

“What’s with the paparazzi out front?” My eyes snaps to the side faster than my head. Jason stood at the entrance of the room, hair disheveled, black dickies with a white shirt tucked into it. ‘Maybe I did fumble.’ I pinch my own hand at the thought, how dare I say that to myself. “These are my other two, Dick and Jason.” Bruce introduces them to my father who also brought them in for a big bear hug. ‘He really needs to stop hugging random people.’

“And this, my daughter, my meaning of life. Mi vida! Come!”

“Oh my fucking-“ I mumble standing up to walk around the table. I extend a hand to the man in blue slacks and a white button up. “Lovely to meet you, Miss-“

“(Yn) is fine. Thank you. A pleasure meeting you as well.” We shake hands rather quickly before I turn my attention to Jason. I couldn’t tell where he was staring, either at the wall behind me or my forehead. “….nice to meet you.” I mumble. “Likewise…” he forces a smile not putting up his hand to shake mine. “Ahh! Mijo! Don’t be shy! She don’t bite!” My father raised his eyebrow at Jason, I could tell he already found him disrespectful for not shaking my hand. I raise my hands up. “Papi, it’s fine.” I nudge his ribs hard enough for him to start coughing and holding his side. “Right.” He backed down almost immediately. “Come let’s sit.” Bruce says after clearing his throat at the awkward encounter. My father guides me to sit right back next to Damien who was oddly enough sitting at the head of the table. Bruce sat infront of my father and Dick before me. “…so!” The conversations began as I fumbled in my purse for my phone. A small kick from under the table catches me by surprise. I look towards the green eyed culprit who nodded his head forward for me to look. I turn slowly to catch eyes with Jason who was watching my every move on the other side of Bruce, until he noticed me staring back at him. ‘What the fuck?’

I looked back at Damien who had a small evil smirk on his face, obviously teasing his older brother for entertainment. “Yes, I already donated over 2 million this morning.” My dad exclaims clapping his hands. “You what?”

“I donated more money to Bruce’s foundation, mami.”

I squinted at him. “…write off I see.” I tsked looking back down at the menu. The sudden silence at my words catches me off guard. I look up seeing everyone curious as to what I meant. “…..kidding?” I shrug my shoulders before my father sighs and continues his conversation with Bruce. “Any plans this evening (yn)?” Dick asks smiling a bit too happy for my liking. “Um, probably just hanging out with my cousin, movie night or something.”

“Can I come?” We both turn to Damien who was staring back at me with determined eyes. “Uh- well-“

“Ah! He wants a movie night? We have a big theater room with a projector your boy would love! Lots of snacks and candy to choose from!”

‘So much for my Love Island night.’

“I’d love to show you around my office and show you some ideas I have for your new project coming up. Crack open some beer??” Bruce nodded at the idea. “Sounds like a plan, the kids can-“

I zoned out the conversation, looking back at Damien who had a devious smile. ‘There’s no way he thinks Jason is going to my house for him to bully some more.’ I turn toward Jason’s direction seeing him twirling a butter knife in his hand while glaring at the kid.

Dinner felt abnormally long, listening to Damien talk about his friend at school with Dick chiming in here and there. My father stands up first, “how delicious the food was! Great choice, Bruce!” I stand to follow him checking the time. 8 PM? Barely? “We’ll follow behind you-“

“Father, we must stop by the manor. I would like to change into something more fitting for movie night!”

‘Demanding kid. I like that.’

“Ah! Take your time of course! We’ll set up the theater room for your arrival!” Dad winks to Damien giving him a big thumbs up. “Come, mami! We have things to do for our guest. He dragged me by my arm to the entrance of the room. “See you soon!” He waves dramatically before yanking me through the door.

“Father you’re not serious, are you? Are we really having a movie night?l

“Me? No no no. YOU will be hosting the movie night.” He chuckled as we made it to the front doors of the restaurant. Most of the paparazzi were already gone but a few flashes here and there blinded me anyways. The car pulls up and I get shoved inside with dad’s suit jacket around my waist. “I should have told the stylist longer skirt.” He huffs before pulling out his phone to check his notifications. “Aren’t you excited honey? New friends!”

“First of all, the kid is like 10 and the other two are probably not even coming!”

“Easier time for you to keep him entertained. He’ll probably fall asleep anyways.”

I sigh, realizing he’s probably right. No way Jason is going to show up for sure.

To my surprise, he’s standing behind Damien and Bruce at my front door.

‘You’re joking.’ I moved out the way as the three entered. “Nice pajamas.” Damian complemented. I look down at my plaid red pajama pants and black oversized shirt. “You as well.” I smiled down at him, he wore matching silk pajamas with a pillow and blanket in hand. I turn to Jason who was wearing casual baggy sweatpants and the same white shirt as before. Damian tugged on my shirt. “Theater room.” He said as if reminding me where I was taking him. I held back a laugh, “of course.” I put a hand on both his shoulders to guide him down the foyer. “Right this way.”

“Bruce! You made it! Please! This way!” I could hear dad exclaim from behind us. “Your dad is quite the opposite of mine.” Damian said looking up at me. “Oh yeah, he’s definitely he’s own breed of dad.” I joke looking back down at him. “What happened to Dick?”

“He had other matters to attend to.” He looked back forward as we entered the theater room. “Welcome in.”

“Huh.” I could see the little excitement bubbling inside him. “What movies do you have?”

“Whatever your little heart desires.” I giggle, walking to the projector in the back of the room. We watch the screen light up and hurry to the couches. “Oh shit, I should of brought a blanket-“

“We can share mine. It’s king sized.” He said in a matter of fact tone. I smile at him, fixing his seat to recline before reclining my own. A soft thump to my right catches me off guard. Jason sat back, staring at the screen in front of us, one arm behind his head, the other resting on his thigh. “Put on a scary one.” He suggested. I cocked a brow at him, whispering, “he’s just a kid, Jason.”

“No he’s right. I would like to watch something scary.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.” He unfolds the blanket and throws one side over me. His pillow already behind his head. “…okay..” I scroll through our options and settle on a classic. (Idk pick something that scares you shitless) I hit the play button and lean back into the seat, cuddling into Damian’s soft blanket.

Halfway through the movie, Damian was already in my arms, and I in Jason’s. “This is a bit-“

“Extreme.” Jason finished. Somehow all three of us were under the blanket. “Should I-“

“Absolutely.” They both answer together.

I grab the remote before another horrific scene could play. “How about something funny?”

They both nodded silently.

I leaned back into the seat as a new movie plays. Damian made his way back in my arms, and Jason, his arms behind his head. I glanced at him making him turn. “What?” He mouthed before looking down to see Damian cuddled up to me. “Demon.” I shook my head. “He’s like the sweetest.” All Jason could do was roll his eyes at my words.

Again around half way through the movie, Damian was already asleep in his recliner. I slowly get up to go to the bathroom. A hand grabs my wrist pulling me back down. “….we need to talk.”

“You had your chance to talk and you blocked me!” I whisper yelled at him. “Look! I’m sorry! I panicked.”

“….so you block me???”

“…..yeah..?”

I rolled my eyes and pulled my wrist away from him. “You’re so full of shit, Jason.”

I march out the room with him following behind. “Look, I’m really sorry. I know things are really awkward but I don’t want them to be. I actually really like-“

He cut his own self off as I looked back at him. “You what?”

“I just…ugh.” He grabs me by my shoulders. “I just really care about you. I didn’t mean to hurt you like that. Let’s just start over.”

I squint at him before sighing. “Fine….now let go of me I have to pee.” I shake his arms off me and dash to the restroom.

Ok so basically, my idea with this story is he actually is in shambles because Bruce thinks your dad is a criminal and is trying to get as close as possible to find out where all this money is coming from. He has sex with you and Bruce was like “actually, this is perfect.” So basically he’s gonna lead you on but fall in love and a lot of angst and anger blah blah blah, it’s a work in progress 😣 but that’s the gist, next chapter is going to be in Jason’s point of view so it makes sense.

[sydwritess]

The Life of Racing Pt. 7

Lando Norris x fem!reader

Summary: through it all, the racing, the media, the meetings. What matters to Lando the most is you. His home life is just as important as track life. Some days, he doesn't balance it easily. But through it all, the both of you try. Going through some challenges, but always coming out together, hand in hand again.

Second Person POV

Notes: my first F1 series! Requests are open!

01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08 09 10

The weekend goes by quickly. Lando had a nice break from FP1 due to Alex driving. It was now quali day. You were watching the race from the garage computers, jotting down quick notes from each lap.

Lando was staying in first place. Charles staying right on his tail. There was five laps left, each of the drivers taking them down quickly.

Lando was keeping the lead, two more laps left. Charles had fallen further behind due to a tight corner, but still remained in second. Soon enough, Lando crossed the finish line, you could hear him cheering happily over the radio.

We slightly waved to all of his fans while taking one last lap around the track, the others following behind him. He slowly pulled into the pit lane, parking the car in front of the garage.

He quickly got out of the car, getting surrounded by his teammates. But the one person he wanted to see wasn't there. He looked around, connecting his eyes with yours.

He shoved past the crowd and ran up to you.

"You did it." You say happily. He wrapped his arms around you tightly, his helmet still on his head. You could hear him breathing heavily through it.

"Fuck it's hot out here." He breathed out.

"Here, come with me." You say.

You silently walk through the hallway behind the garages. Lando carries his helmet in hand with him. You get to the cooldown room and open the door.

The cool air hits you in the face. When Lando walks in, you lightly shut the door behind him. He immediately plops down on the couch, putting his head back.

You walk over and sit next to him, facing him. You can see his chest moving fast, his breathing at an unregular pace.

"Hey, Lando what's going on?" You ask, leaning forward. You gently put your hand on his back.

He doesn't speak, like the words are stuck. He gestures his hand to his throat.

"Shit." You mumble, you crouch down in front of him, grabbing his hands.

"Listen, I need to focus on me. Look at me." You say. He looks down at you slowly, holding your gaze.

"Breath slowly. In, and out."

He grips your hands tighter, like he was afraid of letting go. You breath in and out slowly with him, helping him steady his breathing.

"What- what was that." He asks, his voice shaky.

"A panic attack." You say, rubbing your thumb lightly over his hand. "You must have gotten to hot or overworked."

"That's never happened before." He said, a single tear fell from his eyes.

"It's okay. Your okay, I promise." You pause, looking at him for any sign of discomfort, or unsteadiness. He breaths out slowly, trying to maintain himself.

"Why don't we just take the rest of the day off." You whisper.

"No, No i can't-"

"Lando..." He look's at you once again. "It's fine, trust me. They're going to ask all of the same questions again. You always have tomorrow to." You say.

He takes a minute before nodding his head silently. You sit back on the couch again. You pull out your phone to text Zak.

Y/n

We're not coming to media today.

Zak

Why not?

Y/n

Lando's not doing well, he just needs the time.

Zak

Shit, alright. That's fine, we'll see you tomorrow.

You quickly put your phone away, focusing your attention back on Lando. He was bent over, head in his hands.

"You need to sit up." You say. You put a hand on his chest and make him lean back on the couch.

"Are you the new medic?" He asks.

"No. But I know my stuff. And my stuff is telling you to sit back, and breath."

He smiles lazily. "What'd Zak say?"

"He's fine. He said he'd see us tomorrow."

He nodded his head, dropping his head back to look at the ceiling. You put an arm around his back, resting your hand on his shoulder. a

"Do you want to leave?" You ask.

"Yeah."

You both slowly stand up, and walk out of the cooldown room. You walk through the back hallway, away from everyone and go outside to the motorhomes. Seeing how this was a somewhat quick race week, they didn't rent out hotel rooms.

Lando walks up the three steps to the door, but doesn't open it.

"What's wrong?" You ask, leaning against the railing.

"I forgot all of my stuff." He said, turning around to you.

"It's okay. we can get it later tonight." You say.

"Right." He opens the door slowly and walks in. You were following behind him when someone called out your name.

"I'll be right back." You tell Lando, he nods and slowly shuts the door.

"Hey Max." You say, walking down the steps.

"Hey, I wanted to congratulate Lando but I couldn't find him." He said.

"He's not feeling well right now. But you could call him or something. And, he'll be out tomorrow."

"Is he okay?"

"Yeah, nothing serious. He's just feeling drained and all." You say, he nods.

"Well thank you. Tell him I hope he feels better."

"I will." The two of you wave goodbye and you walk inside. You hear rustling around in the bedroom end of the home so you just sit on the couch in the small living room.

Lando comes out slowly, grabbing his water bottle off of the kitchen counter and sitting down next to you.

"Max asked about you. You might want to text him." You say.

"I'll do it later." He says, taking a sip of his water. You both sit in silence. Nothing said, nothing done.

Lando sat still, almost as if he was afraid to move. He stared at the wall in front of him, not moving an inch.

"How are you feeling?" You ask quietly.

"Alright. Tired."

"Do you know what made you feel like that?" You ask, he shrugs.

"I was feeling dizzy in the car. But... that's it. And then when the team came up to me I felt... trapped."

"That's most likely from the heat."

"But I'm made for this. That's what I train for."

"But your also a human being. With emotions and feelings and medical problems. You aren't made to be invincible." You say.

"I-"

"And I don't give a shit if your Lando Norris or not. You could be some homeless man down the street. You are still a human being." You say. He let's out a slight laugh

You sit there on the couch for the rest of the evening, eventually falling asleep.

You and Lando wake up at the same time, getting ready for race day. The race was early so Lando got into his race suit. You both grab something to drink and head out of the home, catching Max exiting his to.

"You feeling better Norris?" Max asks.

"Yeah, very."

"You're very lucky to have a medic by your side." Max says, slinging his arm around Lando and pointing into thin air.

"Yup. Just here to fix things." You say, walking ahead of him. You three walk along the paddock as it starts to fill in. People starting to walk all around you guys.

Max follows you two into the McLaren garage before he has to leave.

"I heard you placed a bet on the race today." Max says, leaning on the table across from Lando.

"Oh no, not me. I don't participate in such events." Lando said sarcastically.

"Oh right, my bad." Max laughed.

You were just outside of the garage. This group of kids came up to you to have them sign a couple of things.

"That is so nice, so the school funded this trip?" You ask the teacher. It was a small class about five or six young students from a local school.

"Yeah, we thought since it was a local race, why not." She said.

"That is so sweet. I'd love if my school would have done that." You laugh.

"Excuse me Miss? Can I get a picture?" A young boy asked, his thick British accent pulling through.

"Of course you can buddy." You say. He stands next to you as the teacher takes the picture. After getting everything signed, they left, and you walked back into the garage.

"Those were all her kids?" Max asks.

"No dingus, they were students."

"Oh... cute. We're they nice?"

"Obviously."

"Well, I don't really like kids. So I was asking." He says.

"Don't you have two of them?" You remark.

"Shit. Well- okay. I meant teenagers."

"Right, right." You say.

"I know. P found out about me and Y/n and she was like 'So I can't marry Uncle Lando?'" Lando said, mocking P's voice.

"I'd share with her. She's cute." You say. Lando and Max laugh slightly.

"Dude she's been in love with you forever. That's all we hear about." Max says, drinking his water.

"That's really cute." Lando says.

You, Lando, and Max continue talking until the race is about to begin, and they go off to get prepared. Lando is in the garage, talking to Zak while getting his gloves and helmet on.

Before he get's into the car, he waves you over with his hand. When you do, he hugs you tightly.

"Don't forget to drink when you can." You say.

"I will. I promise." He says. He get's into the car, following the person's signals before going out to the track, lining up.

You go over to the computers to watch the race, getting out your notebook and pen in the mean time.

When the lights go off, everyone hurries down the track. Lando keeps first. You see Oscar and Charles fighting for second place along the way.

Unfortunately, within a couple of laps, Kimi crashes into Max, leaving them out of the race.

Lando flies down the track in first. Oscar now in second, following right behind him.

It had been a good hour into the race. You write down notes after notes, following each lap. You look up to see Max walking up to you.

"How's he doing?" He asks, coming around to your side, looking at the screen.

"He's doing good." You say. There was only three more laps to go.

Max saw the nervous look on your face. "He's going to be okay."

You nod slowly, and unsure.

Oscar was coming up close behind Lando, but wasn't able to get past him. Lando flew through two more laps, and made it halfway through the last one. It was intense, Oscar was on his tail, not giving up.

Lando came around the last turn, and wait straight forward, crossing the finish line. The whole team cheered around you, high-fiving each other and hugging each other.

Lando made his lap around after, waving at his fans.

"He did it." Max said happily.

"He did." You breath out, smiling at the screen.

Lando pulled up to the garage, getting out and running straight into his team, who lifted him into the air.

"You got it kid!" Zak yelled, patting Lando on the back. Lando took his helmet off before walking over to you, hugging you tightly again.

"You did it." You smile.

"We did it." He said back, happier than ever. You stayed like that for a minute until you pulled away.

"Go get that trophy." You say, looking him in the eyes. He smiles at you before grabbing your hand and walking out with you.

He leaves you with the crowd as he goes up to the podium, receiving his medal and trophy. He stood along with Oscar and Charles, getting their picture taken and then spraying champagne everywhere, even down on the crowd.

The three of them all shook hands and hugged each other before exiting the stage.

Lando ran straight up to you.

"This calls for a celebration, doesn't it?" He asks slyly, snaking a hand around your waist.

"You know it." You say. He grabs you hand and pulls you away from everything, going back to his trailer.

©sydwritess

Hey loves! Pt. 7 is here! Comment to be added to this series tag list! Requests are open!

Tag list:

@mimisweetz @latay7

@lex2205 @landofotographyy

[ang3l0fde4th4ndd0gs]

Okay maybe I'll start the next chapter. Just because I'm enjoying the vibes tonight. Listening to music and writing is such a comfort honestly.

I'm probably gonna write like 10 chapters for this part of the series. Just because given how much this man has been through he's gonna have one very very long series ahead of him recounting a lot of his plights.

Plus I wanna make some oneshots for his different relationships cause his immortal ass has been in so many it's pretty much insane.

Trying to incorporate at least some of the people he worked with too. And his presidency which will be highly interesting to see if I can manage writing because there's so many people he knew extremely well.

But the time travel play is kinda fun to mess with because he does it so much that even a 200 chapter book wouldn't even cover it. So unless he's in a place for a while I might make all of them different oneshots because it's hard to write all the time jumps into one book.

I have to incorporate my favorite lover of his in one of the next books though because they are so important to me it's crazy.

However his story evolves at least 20 times daily so writing all of his past is a frickin hurculean task at this point.

Doing my best to keep up with writing but legitimately made a deal with my mother that I'd keep trying to make like 600-700 a week to support my own lifestyle while paying rent so it is becoming 100% harder. So if you keep up with my ao3 at all, you might have to expect slower updates because dude, that much is like 15 hours of work a day. Not that I sleep much but STILL.

[musings-of-a-rose]

Meet the Millers - Chapter 15

Pairing: Joel Miller x Benny Miller x Will Miller x Tommy Miller x f!reader

Word Count: 8000+

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story. 

Notes: I’m sorry this took so long to get to. I’ll make it up by word count and an additional chapter!  Well folks, it's finally here! I originally ended this series back in April 2022, nearly a year before TLOU season 1 debuted. I thought it was over, but not only did I have a few scenes I wanted to write but wouldn't fit, SO MANY PEOPLE asked me for more. No one more than @theewokingdead so I dedicate this last half of the series to her!

Posted in 2022: This is set loosely in The Last of Us universe. I’ve only played a bit of the game and watched others play (and the show isn’t out yet), so please forgive any inaccuracies. Also it’s a post-apocalyptic world so I’m taking a bunch of liberties here. Because fan fiction.

Ages at the time of this story (so you don’t have to do math):

Reader: 29

Benny: 36

Will: 39

Joel: 51

Main Masterlist

Meet the Millers Masterlist

<<Chapter 14<<

“They were definitely here,” Will kneels down, sliding one of Ellie’s comics out from under a makeshift bed on the floor in a basement. We had ridden more than several miles out, following their trail, which led us here. We had ditched the horses once we realized we were tracking other people as well. Horses are really obvious and may be a magnet for anyone who is starving through winter. Will hands me the comic and I gently run my hand along the front, a memory of Ellie overacting a scene from it flashing before me. I swing my backpack around and carefully stick it inside, resituating the pack. 

We head back out and into the house next to this one. Benny counts on his fingers, giving us the countdown before he opens the door. The door opens and we move as one unit, a quiet gasp leaving my lips as we all take in the mess in the living room. 2 dead bodies, each brutally tortured and eventually killed, left behind to rot. Benny moves into the room, pushing each body over with his boot to look at their faces. Neither one of them familiar. I let out a breath of relief at that. We clear the rest of the house and meet in the kitchen.

“Think that was Joel?” I ask, gesturing towards the living room.

Will nods. “Looks like his handiwork.”

My mind wanders back to a conversation that Joel and I had, about his previous life. The one  after outbreak day. Where he tortured and stole and lot of other horrible things that he very much regrets. A small lump in my throat forms and I swallow it down, thinking of what that must have cost him to do that. But I also know that it would be no hesitation on his part to do that to anyone who hurt any one of us or took-

“Someone has Ellie,” I blurt out over their conversation.

Benny’s eyebrows pinch together. “What? Why do you think that?”

“Why else would Joel torture people like that? He’s not sadistic. And if it was for supplies, he’d have just taken them. Or…or maybe killed them. But torture? He was after information. And the only reason he wouldn’t have waited for us to catch up is if-”

“Someone took Ellie,” Benny finishes, his eyes hardening as he clenches his jaw. “So…how do we find these fuckers?”

Will takes out his map and starts to study it while I motion for Benny to follow me. I head back into the living room and we each start to pad down the bodies. Finding nothing of importance, we head back into the kitchen, Will hunched over the map he spread on the kitchen table. He glances up at us. “Anything?”

I shake my head. “No. Not even a weapon. Joel must have taken them. You?” I walk up and place my hand on his back, looking down at the map. 

He points to a few places on it. “There are some neighborhoods around here, like this one. And this resort up the road a few miles. It’s a lot of houses.”

Benny shifts his rifle up higher on his shoulder. “Let’s look outside. See if we can find anything. Joel is good about covering his tracks but maybe he left us some clues.” We all file out after Benny, Will stuffing his now folded up map back in his inside jacket pocket. It doesn’t take us long to find some tracks, but they also look like an injured person walking. 

“He’s hurt,” I say, pressing my gloved hand into the bootprint in the snow. “I’m not sure if it’s a leg injury, but he’s limping pretty good.” I swallow down that familiar lump. “It looks like just him. No tracks for Ellie.”

“Fuck,” Benny whispers. “Let’s go get these assholes.”

Despite being injured and in a rush, Joel does a pretty damn good job of covering his tracks, the thick snow giving him extra cover. We track him for a few miles, Will referring to the map and deducing that we were heading towards the resort. But then his tracks veer off, heading down a road when the resort was up it. 

“Do you smell that?” Benny asks and we all sniff. Smoke. We all start looking around for any sign of a blaze. The trees are tall, making visibility difficult, even in snow. We continue following his tracks, rounding a corner before we see the smoke billowing out from a small building, probably a former restaurant of some kind. We draw our guns, picking up the pace towards the burning building. 2 figures come from around the back of the building, stumbling in the snow. We all freeze and I jam the scope to my eye, aiming towards the moving people. 

“Joel! Ellie!” I nearly yell but remember myself and whisper it to the boys instead, pretty much running towards them. They see us and turn towards us, both of them leaning on the other. Ellie crashes into Benny and I lunge at Joel, throwing my arms around him and immediately jumping back when he cries out in pain. 

“What happened? Where are you hurt?” I start pawing at his clothes. Joel gently takes my hand and guides it over his clothes to his abdomen. 

“Here. Roughly stitched. Got infected but Ellie got me antibiotics.”

“I need to look at that wound asap. Are you ok to walk?”

He nods. “Yeah. We need to get away from here. Where are the horses?”

Will chimes in. “Had to send them off once we knew we were tracking people other than you two.”

“Damn. Would’ve been nice.”

I move to Ellie who leans into me, a quiet sob wracking her body. “Hey, sshhh it’s ok. Joel got you. We’re all here now. Ellie, I need you to tell me. Are you injured?” 

She shakes her head and speaks into my shoulder. “Just a little. Nothing major.”

“You can walk?” She nods. I look at them all. “We have to move.”

—----

Somehow, we manage to get a few miles from the blaze without any issue, a small gas station our salvation. Once cleared, I guide Joel and Ellie into the back office, motioning for Joel to sit in the office chair and Ellie on the desk. She insists she’s fine, but I know that look. She does have some minor abrasions on her hands, some small bruises and cuts. The blood on her was not hers and I hope the fucker it belongs to died slowly and horribly. She’s quiet. Too quiet. As I wipe the last of the blood from her face, I cup her cheeks, getting her to look up at me. 

“You’re ok. But some wounds can’t be seen with your eyes.” I lean in and hug her tight, whispering in her ear. “Please come talk to me when you’re ready.” She nods against my shoulder and pushes away, hopping down off the desk and heads into the main store to help Benny and Will. I look down at Joel. He looks exhausted, his face a little more pale than it should be. 

“Take off your shirt, Mr. Miller.”

“I am a married man, miss,” He chuckles, sucking in a breath at the pain. He pulls up the edge of his jacket and shirt, exposing the wound that he had tried his best to cover. There’s dried blood around it, a little fresh bleeding from his exertion, but I can see the infection leaving his body.

I kneel to get a better look, lifting the makeshift bandage from his stomach. He hisses, but doesn’t move. “This wound is the only thing keeping me from bending you over this table,” Joel says just loud enough for me to hear. 

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, cowboy.”

“Just wait until I’m healed.”

—----

We wait in that gas station for a few weeks, letting Joel heal fully. His wound had been infected, but, thanks to Ellie’s intervention, the antibiotics had gotten to work right away, saving his life. Benny and Will kept Ellie busy, helping her to practice shooting, taking her hunting in the nearby woods to catch rabbits or a stray deer. She’s quieter though. Reserved. She told me nothing had actually happened but that something had almost happened before she killed the man. Good riddance to the man, but that does leave a mark on someone. 

The day before we leave, Benny and Will take Ellie into the woods to inspect their traps and Joel makes good on his promise, pushing himself inside of me as I moan his name, his body pressed over mine, pinning me to the desk. It’s not long before I let go and he follows, the sounds of our moans filling the small office space.

—----

“Ok but wasn’t that giraffe cool as fuck?” Ellie smiles as she gestures back towards the dilapidated building where we had found an actual, living giraffe, living its best life. For some reason, the infection never spread to animals, which I’m grateful for. They seem to be fairing well for themselves. Better than most humans anyway. 

But more than that, I’m grateful for the smile they put on Ellie’s face, her first true, whole face smile in weeks. Months? I lost track of time, worried about Joel and then worried about Ellie. The snows had melted, giving way to a beautiful spring. The air is still cool, but it doesn’t feel like snow will make a comeback. Spring is here to stay for a bit. 

Ellie walks alongside Joel, the two of them sharing an old can of Chef Boyardee Joel had found in a busted up RV. My heart swells watching them. Their relationship has definitely deepend since the events at UEC. They’re closer, Joel looks at her like I imagine he looked at Sarah, and my heart breaks thinking about the teenage daughter I never met. 

We’re getting closer to one of the hospitals in Salt Lake, hoping that the first one we picked on the map was the one where the Fireflies were. Still are. If they weren’t chased out or worse. We take a quick break, Ellie and Joel sitting on a crumbling cement barrier, sharing the last of the can of beef-a-roni. I start to walk over to join them when I hear Joel telling her about the scar on the side of his head and how he lost his hearing. Immediately, I turn back to Benny and Will, sandwiching myself between them. I know this story, and if Joel is telling it to Ellie…well I definitely don’t want to ruin that moment. 

Benny nudges my shoulder with his. “You want some jerky?”

I blink, pulling myself back to the present and look at him. “Sure.”

He holds the open bag of jerky in his lap, between his legs, in a very suggestive spot and smirks, his eyebrows waggling. “All yours, sweetheart.”

I punch his shoulder, chuckling along with him, but still reach over and grab some jerky, making sure to lightly touch him as I drag my hand from the bag. I don’t miss the way a light flush blooms across his cheeks. Will puffs air from his mouth next to us. “Can’t take you guys anywhere.”

I turn to him, leaving Benny squirming in his seat. “What ever are you talking about? I was simply getting some food.” I lean in towards him, getting close to his face. “Why, do you have snacks in your pants I could get, Will?”

His ears heat up and he smirks. “Darlin’, you’re welcome to anything in my pants.”

Before I can reply, Joel clears his throat. “If y’all are done eye fuckin’ each other, let’s get moving.”

Ellie chuckles as we all stand up, gathering our things, and hoisting our packs on. We fall into a sort of grouping, picking our way across the rubbled streets of Salt Lake City, a once bustling hub of activity, now reduced to crumbling buildings and, apparently, wild giraffes. 

“You know what I’m in the mood for?” Joel asks, looking at Ellie as we walk. She looks at him, eyebrows raised. “Shitty puns.”

Her face lights up, a smile spreading across it. “Say no more!” She slides her bag from around her back, rummaging around for a moment before pulling out her worn joke book. She flips through a few pages before she settles on one.

“People are making apocalypse jokes like there’s no tomorrow.” 

Joel gives her an overly dramatic, disgusted look and tsks. 

“Too soon?” Ellie asks, fighting back a smirk.

“No,” Joel replies. “It’s topical.” 

Ellie chuckles, her eyes landing back on the book. “Oh I love this one! Moon rocks taste better than Earth rocks. Why?” She pauses, waiting to see if anyone would reply. “Cause they’re METEOR!”

We all laugh, Joel making a pained face. “That’s terrible.”

“Fuck you! That was actually good!” Ellie replies, hitting him in the shoulder with her book.

“That’s a zero outta ten.”

Ellie sighs. “Alright….ok, what did the green grape say to the purple grape?” Another pause. “Breathe, you idiot.” She watches Joel’s face expectantly, holding back her own excitement. Meanwhile, Joel is fighting for his life, trying not to smile, a small smirk breaking through his gruff attitude while Benny howls with laughter. 

“That was a three outta ten.”

“What?” Ellie and Benny respond at the same time. “That was a seven, minimum!” Ellie continues.

Joel thinks. “I’ll give it a five.”

“Five??”

“Five outta ten.”

“Fuck you, five. That was a-”

The clear metallic sound of something hitting the ground behind us, rolling across the rock spattered cement brings our laughing to a screeching halt. We all turn and look down just in time for the thing to ignite, Joel leaping to cover Ellie and Benny over me. We all hit the ground, ears ringing like mad, smoke everywhere. I can’t focus, the ringing too loud. Too disorienting. I can hear Joel calling out for Ellie, can feel the weight of Benny on my back. But then suddenly he isn’t. Before I can look, something strikes the back of my head and everything goes blank.

—----

The sound of muffled yelling is what brings me back to reality. My vision is blurry at first, the room I’m in coming into focus the longer I blink. The voices get clearer too and I realize there’s a voice that’s not a Miller. Or Ellie. I shake my head a little and the voices click into place as I blink the last of the blurriness from my eyes.

“You take me to her. You take me to her RIGHT NOW!” Joel demands from a cot on the other side of the small exam room from me. 

A sigh. “Joel, you know it has to be this way. Do you think I want Ellie to die?” That voice. I know that voice. I hadn’t heard it since I left the Fireflies. Marlene.

Wait did she say Ellie had to die?

I sit up, a little too fast and the room starts to spin as her and Joel continue to argue, saying something about them needing to operate on Ellie’s brain to get the infection out to make a cure. Which..honestly doesn’t entirely make sense. Even with my head spinning I know it doesn’t make sense. There’s no guarantee that a cure would work from that and then you’ve killed your only immune person? I press my hand to my head as Marlene walks from the room, telling the other Firefly soldiers to walk us to the highway to meet our companions, presumably Benny and Will, and only then give us our packs and a knife. I hear them grab Joel and move him to the door, gruff hands yanking me up from the bed and my feet slide a little on the tile floor.

“Hey! Don’t touch her!” Joel gruffly commands, his hand reaching for mine. His fingers barely brush mine before the soldier prods him in the back with the barrel of his rifle. “None of that. Keep moving.”

Joel looks at me and I nod, my head finally clearing at the severity of this situation. They push him forward towards a stairwell, Joel pausing for a brief moment to look at a floor map on the wall. As we’re shoved into the stairwell, I watch Joel’s broad back, the changes in it as he makes up his mind. I know what he’s going to do from the moment he looked at that map. We go down a couple of flights of stairs before he pauses, mid way down the next grouping of them.

“Hey! Who told you to stop?” The soldier behind Joel places his hand on his shoulder to push him forward and Joel makes his move. He grips the soldiers wrist and spins, knocking him out with a couple of well placed punches, quickly grabbing his gun. While he moves, so do I, throwing my head back and ramming it into the man behind me, catching him off guard. I duck as Joel rams the butt end of the rifle into the man’s head, knocking him out. As the men moan on the floor, Joel looks at me. His eyes are dark, his intention set. No one will stand in his way to get to Ellie. I nod at him, bending down to pick up the second gun. 

“I’ll follow your lead,” I quietly say to him, checking the mag and loading a round into the chamber. He studies me for one quick moment, then nods his confirmation.

“Stay behind me.”

“Understood.”

We move through the hospital in a violent dance. I barely do anything except watch his back. Joel moves with a sole purpose, taking out everyone who poses a threat, even a few people who put down their guns, who most likely would’ve taken them back up when we passed them. The way he moves with precision is beautiful, his muscles shifting with every move, the veins in his arms bulging as he reloads a newly acquired rifle, stepping over the body of a soldier he’d just taken out. It’s horrifyingly beautiful and I can see why Joel has the reputation that he does.

Finally, we arrive in pediatric surgery, the lights glaring out from one of the operating rooms. Joel pulls back the slide on his handgun and quietly pushes open the door, aiming the gun into the room. The nurses all scream, stepping back, but the doctor just turns and looks at Joel, a mixture of confusion, arrogance, and fear in his eyes.

“Unhook her,” Joel quietly demands.

The doctor replies. “No! What are you doing? You need to leave my or now!”

Joel fires a warning shot into the air, the nurses screams echoing through the small room. “Unhook her.”

The doctor, now frantic, reaches to the side and grabs a tool off a tray, like a small blade. A scalpel. “No! I won’t let you take her!”

Joel fires a single shot and blood spurts from the doctor’s forehead as his body crumbles to the ground. The nurses scream again, huddling together as if that would save them. Joel turns the gun on them but doesn’t fire.

“Unhook her.” They don’t move, their hands trembling. “Now!”

One nurse moves forward and unhooks Ellie from the machines. She quickly steps back, giving Joel as much room as she’s physically able as he steps forward, gently scooping Ellie into his arms. She’s so small, her eyes still closed from the anesthesia, resting against Joel’s bicep. He turns and strides from the room and I follow, not looking back at the nurses.

The halls are quiet now, Joel having taken out any soldiers that were running at us. But that doesn’t mean we’re alone. Our guards still up, Joel stops to punch the elevator button, shifting Ellie up a little to get a better grip. Once we’re inside the elevator and the doors close behind us, Joel reaches over to press the garage button. The elevator lurches and starts its descent. 

“Do you need me to take her?” I ask quietly. I know his bones have to be aching. His face hardens, resolute as he shakes his head. 

“No. I got her.” We’re quiet for a moment as we watch the floor numbers tick down. “We’re going to leave. If there’s a car, we’ll take it. Find Will and Benny on the highway and head back to Jackson.” 

I nod. “Sounds good.”

The doors open and I stride out first, gun raised, my head on a swivel. I see nothing and we start forward, Joel tapping my arm with Ellie’s bare foot and nodding towards a truck that has the hood open, a battery attached to it charging. We head for it, but then Marlene steps from the shadows, her gun pointed straight at Joel. 

“I can’t let you leave with her, Joel.”

“You can. You can let us go.”

Marlene shakes her head. “She can change all of this. You can..we can forget all of what you just did, if you give her to me.”

Joel looks down at Ellie, then back up at Marlene. “You’ll never stop looking for us.”

“No. Wait, Joel-”

BOOM! 

A single shot rings out from the gun Joel had in his hand, concealed by Ellie’s hospital gown. Marlene flies back, her abdomen spurting blood as Joel steps around her, gently laying Ellie down in the back row of the truck. Marlene reaches up towards me. 

“You…you have to stop him, Ghost. She’s the answer.”

Before I can answer, Joel is back by my side, raises his gun, and Marlene becomes forever silent. Quietly, we get in the truck and drive out of the garage, making our way out of the city to the highway that moves around it, hoping that we’ll easily find Benny and Will. I reach over and grab Joel’s hand resting on his leg, giving it a small squeeze. He glances over at me, worry etched in his features for the first time.

“I…I’m sorry, angel. I didn’t…you shouldn’t have had to see that.”

I squeeze his hand harder. “You did what you had to do to protect your family. They would’ve killed her. Killed us. And it honestly doesn’t make any sense. For them to just kill Ellie from the start- wait. I see them!” I point out the window to 2 figures walking down the side of the road. They turn and Benny throws his hands in the air, his mouth forming a “whoop!”. I hop out and move to the back, giving one of them the seat with more leg room as I place Ellie’s head on my lap. As we drive back to Jackson, we fill them in on what happened. Will isn’t happy about it, but understands. Benny simply says “Fuck those assholes.”

We stash the truck and walk the last several miles to Jackson, grateful we didn’t have another couple of months work of walking. Benny, Will, and I make it down the side of the hill several feet before we realize that Ellie and Joel aren’t with us. We wait for a moment and they come over the edge, Ellie retreating back into her mind as Joel looks on, worried. He’d asked all of us to not say anything to Ellie about what happened. He’d told her raiders had come and it was all we could do to get her out in time. I don’t think she buys it, but I follow Joel’s lead. A pit grows in my stomach, like this will come back to haunt us. But for now, I’m choosing to look forward. Especially when the gates swing open and Tommy runs to greet us, sweeping me up into his arms as he holds me close. 

—----

5 years later…

“Do you both have to go so early?” I complain as I lay sandwiched between Joel and Tommy, who had joined our..family within a year of us returning from Salt Lake. Tommy presses himself against me from behind, growing harder every time he grinds his hips against my ass, his hand making its way between my thighs. Joel faces me and grips my chin gently, staring into my eyes.

“Sorry, angel. Tommy agreed to switch so Ellie could sleep in after last night.” He glances up behind me, giving a quick nod to Tommy, who’s hand gently pushes my back forward slightly, angling my hips up. He slowly pushes into me and my lips part, a small gasp coming from me as he stretches me. As Tommy starts to rut into me, his thumb teasing my clit, Joel’s grip on my chin doesn’t loosen, his silent demand that I keep my eyes on him. His other hand reaches out and gently pinches one of my nipples just as Tommy hits a spot inside me and I cry out, my orgasm flowing through me as Tommy reaches his, biting my shoulder as he comes. He soothes the bite with a kiss, as Joel brings his lips to mine, kissing me softly. Tommy pulls out and I whimper into Joel’s mouth. Tommy disappears for a moment before tossing a wet rag at Joel, who rips himself away from me to yelp, cursing at Tommy as his chest glistens with the water from the wet rag. I chuckle, swiping at the water with my bare hand, like that would do anything. I just wanted to touch his chest. 

Tommy closes the bathroom door behind him, the shower turning on. Joel focuses his attention back on me, cupping my cheek, rubbing his thumb across it before lightly kissing me. “Roll over and spread your legs.”

My entire body heats up and I nod furiously, quickly rolling onto my back, spreading my legs as wide as I can while Joel watches me, his eyes raking down my body. He kneels on the bed, rag in hand, and dabs at my sensitive pussy, gently cleaning his brother off me. He presses one of his large fingers inside me and I squirm as he cleans me out, wiping his hand on the rag when he’s done. Without saying a word, he lowers his mouth to me, dragging his tongue up the center of me and I gasp his name, my hands flying to his head, fingers tangling in his greying curls. He continues to torture me, bringing me to the edge and then pulling back, his nose gliding up my center. 

“Please, Joel,” I beg, my body wound up and desperate. 

He gently kisses my pussy and I whine, bucking my hips into his face. He chuckles, a quick, light lick to my clit before backing off again and I huff, opening my mouth to tell him off. Or something. I can’t remember because Joel dives back in, coming at me like he can’t hold back any longer and a handful of seconds later I cum, fingers digging into his head as I hold him there, his name a chant on my lips. As I start to come down, Joel pulls away, crawling up my body, pinning my wrists on either side of my head. His eyes stare down at mine, nearly black with lust.

“I’m gonna fuck you into this bed and you’re gonna take it. Got it?” 

I nod. “Yes. Yes, I’ll take whatever you can-” Joel pushes into me with force and I cry out, wrapping my legs around him as he loses himself in me, having edged himself too. He cums a few moments later, his forehead dropping to my chest as we both breathe deeply, trying to catch our breaths. He drags his eyes up to mine, happy and content. 

“Hopefully that makes up for the early hour.”

I chuckle. “I hope you’re getting up early tomorrow too.”

—----

“I think I missed my morning patrol time?” Ellie says as she walks up to me at the main gate, horse reins in hand. 

I shake my head. “Nah. Tommy swapped with Joel so you could sleep in after…after the New Years Party last night.”

“Oh. Right. That was..nice.”

I smile at Ellie. Joel and her had been going through something lately and neither of them would explain it. Maybe they couldn’t. “Everything ok?”

“Yeah. We..talked last night. I’m going to come to movie night tonight.”

“Oh thank God. I’ve been outnumbered by boys for so long.”

Ellie laughs. “Sorry about that.”

I squeeze her arm. “Don’t worry about it. I know you’ve been going through something and sometimes you just need your own space. You know I’m always here to talk, right?”

She nods, adjusting her saddle. “Yeah. Thanks.”

Will and Benny walk up, coming from the guard post on the wall. They each press a kiss to my lips, while Benny reaches out to ruffle Ellie’s hair. She dodges, swearing at him and they play wrestle for a moment, Benny giving up when she pokes him in his only ticklish spot. Will helps me up onto my horse and I lean down to kiss him again. 

“Be careful, darlin’. We think that storm might come in. If you need to take shelter, just radio in as best you can and hunker down.”

“Of course. Love you.”

Benny helps Ellie onto her horse and she punches him on the shoulder. “Ouch.” 

“Plenty more where that came from.”

Benny rubs at his shoulder, smirking before turning to me. “Should’ve never taught her how to fight.” I lean down and kiss him, his large hand cupping my cheek as he holds me there for a moment, pulling back just enough for me to see his bright blue eyes. “Be careful, sweetheart. Don’t take any chances if that storm rolls in quick.”

“I promise. Stay safe. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

—----

“I’m so glad Jesse showed you this place,” I say as I take another cookie from Ellie’s outstretched hand. She’s smiling, for the first time in what feels like forever.

“Yeah, me too. Great place to wait out a storm like that one coming at us.”

“I’m sure it has nothing to do with the special plants and snacks stored here?” I raise my eyebrows, smirking.

Ellie puts her hand on her chest, looking fake shocked. “What are you saying?”

Static scratches out from the walkie. “Ghost? Ellie? You there?”

I pick it up, pressing the button. “Yeah we’re bunkered down. Everything ok in Jackson?”

The operator, Allie, answers. “We’re fine but have you heard from Joel and Tommy recently?” 

Ellie and I sit up. “No. Have you?”

“Not since they started route. They’re not answering.”

Ellie and I look at each other, fear and worry coursing through my veins. “Roger that. We’ll go look for them.” 

“I don’t think that’s-” I click off the walkie and look up at Ellie, my own worry echoed in her features. 

“Let’s go find them,” She says, quickly gathering up her pack and heading for the door, zipping up coats as she walks. We make it outside, the wind already blowing, our horses complaining about going back in it. I grab Ellie’s arm and she looks at me.

“We should split up. Stay on channel 4, ok?” I hold up my walkie and she clicks hers to channel 4, holding it up to confirm. She turns to get on Shimmer, her horse, but I grab her arm again.

“What?”

“Just…be careful. Don’t forget to radio me if you find anything.”

“Yeah. Of course. You too.”

We hop on our horses and take off in opposite directions, both of us terrified at what we might find. Best case scenario, their walkies are dead or the storm has blocked the signal and they’re tucked away somewhere safe. Worst case…I’m not thinking about that.

I ride for about half an hour when a sudden lurch in my stomach has me pulling on the reins to stop my horse. Anxiety and panic flood my system. I look around, not seeing anything, but I can’t shake this feeling. I ride for another couple of minutes, thinking about what structures would be near enough to their route-

The resort. 

I turn my horse and spur him on, riding into the wind and snow as the blizzard creeps towards us. It’s so hard to see in this, and the rushing sound in my head doesn’t help. They’re at the resort. They’re tucked in all safe. Nothing is wrong. But the closer I get to the resort, the more the panic rises, making me gasp for breath a few times. I finally break through the line of trees and see the resort…and a couple of horses outside it. I hop off mine and take out my gun, checking it before quietly moving to the door. I try the handle and it turns easy, allowing me to slip inside. The roaring of the wind is muted, my ears and eyes taking a quick moment to adjust. But then I hear the sounds coming from upstairs. Thuds and- no. No!

Joel’s grunts and cries of anguish are loud in my ears, each one coming after a painful sound blow. For a brief moment, I have to choke back the simultaneous urge to vomit and to run towards him, hell bent on putting myself between him and whatever was making him make those sounds. 

“No! Please stop!” 

Ellie. Begging and crying. She’s not alone. Another voice, female, scoffs. 

“Do you think he waited? When he killed everyone in that hospital? They were just there to find a cure. And then he came in and bam! Dead.” 

I move through the hall and up the stairs like a ghost, the reason I earned my nickname. I reach the top of the stairs, a door standing ajar in front of me, Joel’s grunts sounding weaker despite me being closer. I swallow hard, bracing myself for whatever is behind the door. No one else is in the hallway, so I move up to the cracked doorway and peer inside. Tommy lies crumbled in a heap on the other side of the room, two young women standing over him. He’s breathing, so he must be knocked out. The men in front of me are holding Ellie to the ground, her arm pinned painfully behind her back before he kicks her in the ribs, telling her to be quiet. Rage fills me, but my eyes drag up and to the center of the room, where another young woman stands over a bloody pile of rags, kicking it again and again. I focus on the rags for a moment before I realize what exactly I’m looking at, the blood in my veins freezing in fear, but also burning with rage.

Joel. Not rags. Joel. Beaten so badly that I could hardly recognize him. 

My brain clicks, all expression sliding off of my face as I slowly stand, taking my knife from my pocket. My blades quietly slices into the one man with his foot on Ellie’s back and before he realizes he’s dead, I’ve sliced into the other man, his blood gushing down his side. Ellie doesn’t move. I raise my gun just as one of the 2 women look up and see me, horror on their faces. 

“Wait-”

I hit my first target in between her eyes, her body crumbling to the floor. The other girl raises her hands but she meets the same fate as her friend, their bodies lifeless and staring blankly ahead. I turn to face the woman standing over Joel’s bloody body, a broken golf club in her hands. She looks at me, her rage fueled by my apparent indifference to it. I aim my gun at her, gently pulling the trigger and…it jams. She glances down at Joel and back at me before she raises the golf club, aiming it at the back of Joel’s neck.

I yell, a primal, guttural scream, as I drop the gun and lunge at this person, tackling her to the ground before she could do anything. She struggles against me, yelling back and we roll for a couple times before I’m on top, pinning her arms beneath my knees. My hands wrap around her throat as she chokes and sputters, her body jerking as I watch the life start to fade from her eyes. But then I let go and she gasps for air, choking as she breathes rapidly and deeply. Once she’s caught her breath, I wrap my hands around her throat again, watching with a blank expression as she tries to fight for her life. I bring her back 3 more times, each time she gets weaker, her sputters less and less. I want to watch the life leave her eyes for what she’s done, watch her die here and now knowing that all of her companions, her friends, are dead because of what she’s done to my husband. 

“Joel!” Ellie cries out from across the room, still barely able to move. I blink, coming out of my rage vengeance and simply watch as the girl under my hands chokes, sputtering, her limbs fighting back less and less. I watch as the light leaves her eyes, the last thing she sees is me. I release her, swinging my legs off her body before I come to, the rage leaving me the second I lay eyes on him.

“Joel?” He’s on his stomach, his bloody cheek pressed against the hard ground, his eye bruised and puffy, gashes and scrapes bleeding and puffing up not just on his face, but across his body. His leg has a homemade tourniquet above what I’m assuming is a gunshot wound. His shirt is torn in several places across his back, revealing deep puncture wounds, a small stream of blood spreading out onto the floor. 

“Joel?” I don’t know what to do. My hands hover around various parts of his body, but I'm afraid to touch him. I don’t know where to start, what the worst injury is. I’m trained for medical, but this is…

Tears well in my eyes and I try to fight them back. “Joel, baby?” I put my face in front of his, pressing my hand to his bloodied one. “Joel, it’s me. It’s Ghost. I’m here. You’re safe. Ellie’s safe. So is Tommy. I got them all, I just need you to-” my voice cracks, the tears no longer able to be held as his tired and pained expression meets mine.” 

“Joel, please hold on. Let me look at you.” I throw my walkie at Ellie before returning my attention to Joel. “Look at me. Joel, you do not have my permission to die. Do you hear me? You c-can’t. Y-you can’t leave me, Joel. Please,” I beg, tears streaming down my face. He opens his mouth, gasping for air as he coughs out blood.

“Joel? No, NO you can’t! Please, please-” my entire world goes black.

—----

“You take me to her right now!” 

Joel’s voice rips me from my unconscious state. Where am I? My head spins, slowly coming back into focus. Joel? He’s alive? I blink, my vision clearing, and realize I’m back in the hospital room. In Salt Lake. What the fuck just happened?

“Joel, you know it has to be this way,” Marlene says in a poor attempt to console him. 

No, no this isn’t right. Didn’t that girl who was beating Joel say her dad was here? He was the doctor? I know what happens if we go down this path. I've seen it. 

“I don’t have another choice, Joel.”

“I do,” Joel says threateningly.

“Wait!” I sit up a little too fast, holding the side of my head while the room stops spinning. “Marlene, wait!”

She turns to look at me, but her body remains fully focused on Joel. She’s right to mistrust him. “I really have no choice, Ghost.”

“Marlene, you knew me. Know me. I’ve learned a lot, especially since leaving the Fireflies. You know I was studying not just sniper but medical. Healing. I learned…a lot. And let me tell you…I don’t think they need to kill Ellie.”

She turns her head fully to me now, the other soldier in the room tightening his grip on his gun. “What?”

“Think about it. This..doctor… wants to cut open her brain, right?”

She nods. “To get the cordyceps out.”

I shrug. “Yeah, but there’s no guarantee that it will work. I mean, she’s probably more than likely actually infected, not immune, and we don’t know what in her stopped the cordyceps from taking hold. Could it be something in her brain? Sure. But it could also be in her dna, or a myriad of other things.”

Marlene watches me for a few long moments. “What’s your point?”

I puff out some air. “Look. Everyone is wanting a cure, right? A preventative? But what sense does killing your only immune person make? Wouldn’t you want to make absolutely 100% sure it has to come from her brain before you kill her and then oops it doesn’t work? She’s your only immune person…right?”

Marlene takes longer than I like to answer. “She’s the only one we have now…but I’m not a doctor. Let’s go ask him.”

She jerks her head towards her soldier and addresses Joel. “Absolutely no funny business or they will kill you and her,” she points to me. Rude. “Got it?”

Joel nods. “Yes, ma’am.”

We quickly head up a couple flights of stairs to the pediatric surgery ward, where all of the lights are off except for one room. I’ve been here before, in..whatever I experienced a moment ago. Panic soars through me as images of Joel’s bloody and beaten body flash before my eyes. I pause for a moment and feel Joel’s large hand at my lower back.

“You ok, angel?”

“Mm no. But ask me later, ok?”

“O…k…”

Marlene pushes into the surgery room where a male doctor and 3 nurses stand over Ellie’s body as they do final preparations for surgery.

“What is this, Marelene? Get them out of here!”

She holds a hand up. “Not yet, Jerry. Just wait. You too.” She speaks to the nurses, who back off Ellie. 

The doctor, Jerry, looks pissed. “We only have a short amount of time. I won’t let you-”

“Are you certain you need to cut into her brain to make the cure?”

He looks shocked, even behind his face mask. “Well, yes.”

Fuck this guy. “How certain?” I ask, trying to keep my voice level. 

He looks over at me, his eyes raking my body up and down, assessing me. “Who are you?”

“That doesn’t matter. Answer my question.”

“You wouldn’t understand. You would’ve been what, 5? When the outbreak happened?” He scoffs and I resist the urge to punch him.

“8, actually. But yet somehow I know more than you?”

He crosses his arms, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, I’m sure. Why am I talking to her?”

Marlene speaks before I can. “Because that girl? I know her. She’s studied healing and medicine under some of the best people in this shitty world. She’s also the best shot I’ve ever seen and you have someone she cares about strapped to your table, so yeah. I’d answer her question.”

Jerry looks between us both, finally sighing and pinching the bridge of his nose. “I don’t know…maybe like 65%?”

She doesn’t show it, but I know Marelene is shocked, her body language shifting slightly. Joel tenses beside me and I reach out to squeeze his hand. 

“Only 65%? You promised me a cure.”

Jerry gestures around. “Yeah well, I had to get her here. I have to look at her brain and then I can tell you better.”

“But how do you know her supposed cure doesn’t lie in her blood? Her dna?”

He looks back at me. “What do you mean supposed?”

“Assuming she’s immune and not infected.”

He watches me for a few long moments. “I…hadn’t considered that possibility.”

I point at Ellie. “You have no idea if she’s immune or just infected and her body has somehow prevented it from taking hold. Could it be in her brain? Sure. But it could also be in her blood. Or anything else.”

Jerry crosses his arms, cocking his head to the side. “You’re right. Unfortunately, it would be too difficult to know.”

“Why?”

Jerry gestures to the room. “Look around. We barely had enough power for this room, let alone a whole lab to do testing. We simply wouldn’t be able to accommodate that. Not without more power.”

Joel speaks up. “You know where there’s more.” Not a question.

Jerry nods. “Yeah. Marelene knows the specifics, but Gracepoint Hospital, on the other side of the city, has a ton of solar panels that would hook into the power grid for this hospital.”

Joel nods. “What’s the catch?”

Marlene and Jerry exchange a look. “It’s never been cleared. There’s a lot of infected in that area. We never took the risk.”

Joel nods, biting the inside of his cheek. “And I’m assuming these are the only ones?”

Marlene nods. “The only ones we know where they are and that they’ll work.”

Joel glances down at me and I nod. “Alright. Bring us my brothers and we’ll get your solar panels. But you have to promise that you will not place 1 cut on her body.” He steps forward towards Marlene and Jerry, his voice dropping. “Or I will hunt you until the ends of this earth and personally remove you from it. Agreed?”

Jerry swallows hard, glancing at Marlene, who also realizes the weight of Joel’s words. He is absolutely serious. They both stick their hands out and shake Joel’s and mine. “Agreed.”

Joel nods once. “Alright then. Marlene, bring my brothers to the lobby, And get a map to show us where this hospital is.”

Marlene moves to speak to her soldiers, sending a couple of them towards the highway where they’d already brought Will and Benny. Joel takes my hand again and pulls me out of the surgery, one last look at Ellie before he rounds the corner and brings me into another empty room. He closes the door and turns to me, clicking on a flashlight and setting it upside down on a table to illuminate a tiny space. 

“Alright, angel. I need your head in the game if we’re doing this. What’s wrong?”

I open my mouth to speak, but instead, tears fall freely from my eyes, my chest heaving as I sob. Joel pulls me to his chest, holding me tight as he cradles the back of my head, whispering to me as I cry. I pull back enough to look up at him, my hands lightly tracing his face, his beautiful face. Every scar, every line, all of it. All of him. I cup his face and pull him to me, kissing him gently before he pulls back, his eyebrows pulled together in worry.

“Are you ok, angel? What happened?”

So, I tell him. How I had woken in that bed and watched Joel kill nearly everyone here because they were going to kill Ellie. How I never spoke up and didn’t think twice about it. Our life over the span of 5 years in Jackson. How the group of young people came and beat him, how his face looked, and how I didn’t know how to help him. I don’t even know if he survived. Then I woke here, a chance to do it again, which is why I spoke up. 

His eyes water and he pulls me to him again. “Oh angel. I’m so sorry. But that wasn’t real. I’m here. We’re here, together. It’s ok. I’m not going anywhere.”

I sob again for another few minutes, trying to let go of the lingering images of his blood covered body. Then I pull back, wipe my eyes, take a deep breath, and let it out, stretching my limbs before looking back at Joel, determination in my features.

“Let’s go get those solar panels and help save the fucking world.”

—---- 

>>Chapter 16>>

General Taglist:

@frankie-catfish-morales @chaoticgeminate @janebby @astoryisaloveaffair @balekanemohafe

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I am unable to tag you:

@charlispersonallyhell @wretchedmo

[half-moon-girl]

MAKING YOU WORK FOR IT

Charles Leclerc x reader

Hot Monza Nights Series: Charles Leclerc x reader.

Champagne on his breath. your badge still clipped to your belt. Monza was never going to let you behave.

🇮🇹🇮🇹🇮🇹🇮🇹🇮🇹🇮🇹🇮🇹🇮🇹🇮🇹🇮🇹🇮🇹🇮🇹🇮🇹🇮🇹🇮🇹🇮🇹🇮🇹

🏁🏁Welcome to Monza—fast cars. Hot nights. No rules.

Part one

You weren’t supposed to see each other. If today had gone differently—if anything had gone to plan—it never would’ve happened. But desire has a way of ignoring boundaries. And for months now, you’ve had one quiet, reckless goal: find a way to meet Charles Leclerc.

The thing is, you have seen each other before, most recently at the Dutch Grand Prix. Working for Ferrari has put you around Charles a few times—you’re just not important enough to do more than prepare reports and stay behind the scenes.

But here in Monza, after Charles secured the lead with a masterful drive, a group of the team—even junior assistants—spill out into the city, the taste of champagne on all your lips.

You’ve found yourself now, dancing in a club to the low, steady pulse of EDM and that’s when it happens. You see Charles, his gaze heated and lazy on you. He’s just moving back and forth to the music—and then he crooks his fingers, urging you closer.

A jolt travels through you, and you glance around, wondering who he was actually gesturing to. You’re not going to be that girl, the one who falls for this sort of thing.

Because Charles Leclerc doesn’t remember a girl like you.

When you glance back at him, frozen in place, he starts to laugh, eyes squishing up—and with this sultry look, beckons you closer. Again.

It just figures that he’d make you work for it. Yet you go to him, reeled in closer despite your will, as other dancers on the floor jostle you toward him.

“Caio, Bella,” he says, pressing his mouth to your ear. The warm puff of his breath against your neck makes you shiver despite the sticky sweat between your thighs and beneath the hair at your nape. “Credo di averti già visto in giro. Ferrari, giusto?”

I think I’ve seen you around before. Ferrari, right?

“Oh! No,” you rush to tell him. “I’m not Italian. But, yeah, I’m with the team.”

“Ah,” he says, eyes sparkling. “That’s too bad.”

(To be continued…next parts are longer) 💜 🌹

Link to part two

Please reshare? 🙏 🙏

[linderosse]

Hahahaha oh man, I was *just* thinking about this!!!!!

Either the Chain or the Wielders would crush the complete Nonary Game.

So what if we throw morphogenetic fields into the mix?

Let’s put the Chain and the Wielders in the format of the “first” Nonary Game (there’s a great fic that writes out the whole First Nonary Game for the actual Zero Escape characters, since in canon, this round happens offscreen. Check it out if you liked Zero Escape; I highly recommend it!)

For context, for folks who haven’t played Zero Escape:

ITS AN AMAZING GAME.

If you do not want spoilers, please don’t read this post!!!

Go play the game!!!

That said, if mystery games aren’t really your thing and you don’t mind spoilers, here’s a quick summary:

9 people are in a place called Building Q, and must split into teams and solve a series of escape rooms

9 other people, connected to the first set in pairs, are on a sinking ship, and must solve incomplete versions of the same puzzles.

The first group in Building Q needs to telepathically communicate the solutions and missing pieces of the puzzle to their counterparts in the sinking ship, so that both groups can solve all 9 doors.

Each player is also given a bracelet with a number on it— this is important to how the groups are split up to go through doors, but less relevant to this post so I won’t elaborate here.

They have 9 hours to solve all 9 doors, or else the ship sinks and the second group of 9 dies.

In this crossover, the Wielders are in Building Q, and have the complete versions of the puzzles; their job is to transmit the missing pieces to their respective Links. The Chain is on the sinking ship, and have the incomplete versions. Assume they’re labeled in vague chronological order, placing Sky and Sun at #1 and Wild and Flora in the coveted #9 spot. Also assuming no mixups, and assuming no Spirit/Phantom or Echo/Silent, how well would the group fare?

Immediately, we can identify the best pairs.

Fable can perfectly transmit to Legend. Legend can even transmit back, though it takes him effort and he has to speak out loud. This is literally part of their canon abilities, at least in Wisdomverse. They’ve seen each other at their worst and are unafraid to open their minds. They can carry a team through whichever door they choose in each set.

Sky and Sun share an unbreakable bond, and Sky had those prophetic visions. He’s enough of a receiver to get messages from Sun, and maybe even flashes from the rest of the Zeldas, who he’s still related to. Sky can pull his weight through a door.

Flora can sort of speak into Wild’s mind, but with a caveat— I always like to think she was using her magic to hack into the Sheikah Slate and essentially place a call to Wild. Wild himself has had his mind erased at the start of BotW and can’t really be connected to. They’ve redeveloped their bond over the remaining years though. TotK Wild/Flora can hold a strong connection through any room with enough technology in it; BotW Wild/Flora can hold a tenuous connection with the same conditions.

We can also identify… the worst pairs:

Dusk and Twilight barely know each other, and Twi has minimal affinity for magic. Twi ain’t receiving shit. Twi can just barely escape the flooded room, and then is here for moral support at best.

Wind and Tetra relied on their pirate’s charm for communication, which they won’t have in the game. Wind is fairly magical and could be a decent receiver, but Tetra can only send messages when she’s desperate��� like in Phantom Hourglass, when she cries for help when petrified and it echoes throughout the game. They probably don’t get much of a morphogenetic link— except for one brilliant moment when all seems lost, and Tetra admits vulnerability and manages to send a perfect image to Wind.

Time and Lullaby are both magical, and skilled— but transmitting and receiving requires opening up your mind to the other, and that does not appeal to either of them. They’d have to be truly stuck to decide to open up, but when they do, they work flawlessly together.

The others, I think, have a semi-normal experience— getting brief flashes through the field. Hyrule/Dawn have a slightly depeer connection due to both of them being intensely magical, while Warriors/Artemis struggle almost as much as Twilight/Dusk.

Four and Dot have a variable connection, as is expected. If Shadow is around, though, they use him to cheat.

Still, though, to make things truly unfair, we have to add swaps to the order.

First of all, I’m splitting Wild/Flora. They get swapped with Sky/Sun for added drama— and that way, the number #9 pair is split and makes things much harder. So Sun and Wild share the #1 bracelet, and Sky and Flora share #9.

Secondly, there technically should be a Link with the Zeldas and a different Zelda with the Links, putting two pairs together. If Echo was here, it’d be an easy decision, but she’s not, so… I feel like I wouldn’t actually carry out this swap. It makes sense in the actual game for reasons, but here, it just deprives the audience of seeing two of the pairs transmit.

Either way, I think the gang succeeds. Even with Ganon in Hongou’s place and the additional challenges beyond the number 9 door, the gang is smart enough to plan things out so that someone will always be able to transmit. We’d have to add more constraints to make things truly dire— a faster time constraint, or further threats, like Legend being given a letter at the beginning telling him to conceal his abilities or Fable dies.

Heck, Hyrule and Wild in particular are good at solving incomplete puzzles— Hyrule has seen that shit before in his games, and he’s down to try absolutely everything in the room to help cover for Dawn if Dawn can’t transmit the solution. (Dawn is intensely magical, but if something is blocking her abilities— who knows, she may eventually become one of the better transmitters.)

If the Chain truly thought only five of them could survive at the end… I wonder what they’d do. I wonder what their Zeldas would do. Man, I’d love to write this. I have so many ideas. Maybe in another post sometime.

In fact, I’ve probably spent way too much time thinking about this. Worth it though!

Thanks @mobgabriel for the link, and thanks @themortaldraw for the inspiration! Your art is so cute as well!

This is such an obscure crossover, but it was very fun to think about. If someone writes or draws more of this, tag me. I want to see it :).

Masterpost

Im taking Legend and putting him in an escape room. Have fun with the puzzles Legend

[risestarkiss]

Hi there @cartoonfriend speaking

You might know me as the one who made a comment that put TMNT fandom into total chaos

Hehehe who knew this one comment cause a big crazy fan freakout?😅

Well if you think this shocked you most then prepare yourself for another bombshell I'm throwing. And that is (if season 3 might return or will continue in comics)

The Return of the Shredder sealed inside Leo!

(record scratch sound)

Oroku Saki was never The Shredder. He was a victim of the Shredder. The real Shredders was the dark armor, Kuroi Yoroi itself that corrupted him and trapped his soul within.

The armor has its own mind that twists, corrupts and devours anyone who put them on as Draxum and Saki.

And let's not forget WHO gave him that armor

It kinda like Clockwerk/Clock-la/Neyla situation from Sly Cooper franchise (if you know what I'm talking about)

Now that I clear that out (hopefully) lets answer the main two questions. One why would Shredder return? And two how is Leo involved into this?

Okay for question number 1 simple answer: The Shredder is the main important, necessary part of TMNT franchise as turtles (like Dr Eggman in Sonic or Green Goblin in Spiderman) that cannot not exist. So there's no way that he would not return is the series decides to continue.

As for question number two, actually glad you asked because there are some subtle hints that implies Leo might have bit of Shredder inside: Exhibit A

This might be just cool shot of Leo in action (before his swords break), but let's pause riiiight

Here

See this? A red glow in his eye on right. And who else has terrifying glowing red eyes?

Now before you say that's just a coincidence here is

Exhibit B: Leo's unpredictable portal Mystic powers

No I'm not joking, just hear me out. I'm aware the reason why Leo's portal don't work because of his inferiority complex and lack of focus, but what if there is reason? When he first uses Odachi, we can see it flickers like something unstable. And when Leo does makes a portal they sometimes led to random faraway places.

Like the tip of Eiffel Tower in Paris

2.

3. Or this weird place that I have no what or where is it

Now can you guess who else has flickering (tele)portaling as well?

Honestly those can't be just coincidences.

BUT if you are still not believe, then here is my final evidence

Exhibit C (as my Ace in sleeve)

There it IS. This is the main culprit behind the possibility of Shredder's return and why Leo might posses Shredder posses him. As you guys might remember (and technically) this piece never returned back to Old Skully a.k.a. Shredder's helmet as the hole was filled with Jupiter Jim action fiction which made the armor flawed and incomplete. And it was never brought back. Even after Karai was rescued which also freed Shredder the piece was still missing. So the question is 'What happened to that missing piece?'

Well here is my theory. That missing piece never vanished along with the rest of armor. It fused with Leo after stepping on as a kid, like a backup plan, making Leo a vessel (a.k.a. Leo is a jinchuuriki, or a horcrux to Shredder's soul, if you know what I mean). Let's not forget this armor is from the Krang, that that can infect and then mind control (Raph is both witness and victim of that).

These are ruthless monsters that are capable of anything heinous to show their twisted sadistic dominance and show no mercy to weaker

Either Leo get possessed by that piece and become the next Shredder or getting the peace out but the piece somehow takes a form from mix of Krang biotechnology and stolen mystic energy/DNA to become a new entity still known as Shredder. (It's not very farfetched when you remember 2003 version did something similar with Oroku Saki/Shredder been actually the Utrom.)

So here it is. My whole theory.

Let just say this.

If Shredder ever comes back either way along with Krang

Then I'm afraid our Fearless Turtle Leader Leonardo is never gonna be safe from trauma that haunts or will awaits him.

○○○○

*whistles* Wheeeew!

*pats this ask*

Hmm, this is a very interesting theory, and one that I've definitely never thought about. 🤔

At first, I didn't know where you were going, but then you brought it all home to rest on that single piece under Leo's foot!

Now, to be fair, is that scene enough to say that Leo is 100% possessed by Splinter? I don't think it's enough...

BUT, there also isn't enough here to disprove the theory.

What the show needs is a follow up on where that one piece ended up. One additional scene could make or break this case wide open!

But, as is, the theory does have some merit, especially with the similarities you presented in the beginning of the ask. 😌

So, I'll turn it over to everyone else.

Given the evidence, do YOU think that Leo is possessed by the Shredder? 🤔

Let me know your thoughts! ☺️

(Also, thank you @cartoonfriend for sharing this theory! 💜)

[beardedhandstoadshark]

Rutela makes me insane actually

died shortly (if not during) the start of the game by getting fucking beheaded in front of her subjects

husband that died under mysterious circumstances before all this

carries the Zora Sapphire around her body in golden chains, which is metal af

capable of entering dreams apparently

after you help Ralis says she can now join her husband, but can be seen hanging around in the end credits anyways like she just said "nah" to dying for good

There's portraits of her in Snowpeak Mansion

Why are there portraits of Rutela in Snowpeak Mansion

The mansion that very clearly used to be a military base years ago

which otherwise only has portraits of places far away from anything Zora related, and Rauru Ocarina of Time

all those places save for Ordon are specifically locations important to Sage Business (Arbiters Grounds, Sacred Grove, Island in the Sky)

And Ordon houses the only Link in this series to ever start out with his Triforce, so it's not completely off the hook either

because clearly Rutela and her husband somehow knew a Hero would be coming soon if her husband made armor for him shortly before he kicked the fish bucket (under mysterious circumstances)

again, the only people important enough to get depicted are Rauru and for some reason her

she's named after Ruto, who's a Sage of Water. You know who else is a Sage of Water? The one who executed Ganondorf and then got murdered

IN OTHER WORDS, there's a chance that this woman was the current Sage of Water, who was not only important enough to Hyrule's dealings to get the only portrait next to Mr Yapping Owl Man himself, but was specifically targeted by Ganondorf as revenge for her predecessor shoving a sword in his gut as well as preventing her from further aiding the hero she knew would rise to stop him

(And also she's 🎵a giant woman🎶)

[badgalsasuke]

Have people discussed why when Naruto is thinking about the bonds he eventually formed he places Sasuke on the side of the girls?

Other people noticed it but they didn't actually analyse anything out of this. And it's interesting because Kishimoto could've had Naruto placing Sasuke by Kakashi's side and that'd make the composition symmetrical and more visually appealing, but he didn't.

Some people in the post I linked above think it's related to Sasuke's heroine-type of status in the story.

Which reminds me of Hayato Date's conversation with band FLOW, Date was director of the Naruto anime from its inception until before Madara's fight against the shinobi alliance.

And it was also pointed out by Ito Go in his essay for the Kizuna: The Words that Bind Heaven Scroll book.

This is a translation published by the University of Minnesota Press for Mechademia: Second Arc which a biannual journal series designed to promote academic and professional discourse around East Asian popular cultures.

However, I noticed they skipped certain sentences (including the title of this excerpt of the entire essay where Ito Go calls Sasuke the heroine) from the original Japanese essay. So I will post another translation here

Sasuke's "heroine" relationship (サスケの「ヒロイン」的関係性)

The person whose "true feelings" are the least visible is Sasuke, the core of the story, who stands opposite Naruto. The deepening intimacy and repeated "denial" that unfold between the two are the axis that drives the story of this work. Sasuke leaves his friends and becomes a runaway ninja, and Naruto pursues him. Compared to Naruto, who has grown into a hero recognized by those around him, Sasuke, who has been popular from the beginning and is still wanted/sought after by many characters, is treated like a heroine, even though he is a man.

Among them, the strong feelings that Naruto has for Sasuke are like friendship and brotherly love. Let's call it "love" in a broad sense. Think of it as a higher concept that refers to intimate feelings such as friendship and familial love, rather than romantic feelings.

Sasuke's motivation for leaving the village was to take revenge on his brother, Uchiha Itachi, and to gain strong power to do so. However, he strongly asserts his reason for actively cutting off ties with his friends and the village of Konohagakure. This behavior can be interpreted as an escape from the close community with his comrades. It is due to a "denial" of acknowledging the affection directed towards him. In particular, it is a "denial" of his intimate relationship with Naruto. The psychology of this "denial" is fully depicted in the long sequence in which Sasuke tries to kill Naruto at the Valley of the End. He tries to kill Naruto, following his brother's words that he can awaken his Mangekyo Sharingan by fulfilling the condition of "killing his closest friend." However, he is unable to kill Naruto. By trying to kill Naruto, he unintentionally acknowledges that Naruto is his most important friend. The act of "killing for a purpose" itself denies friendship and love towards the other person. Can someone who is willing to kill for one's own purpose really be called "the closest friend" in the true sense of the word? However, the choice of who to kill can only be made by asking one's own heart. In the dilemma of "killing his closest friend," Sasuke chose Naruto. By denying the very existence of friendship, he acknowledged it. It's a "denial" in the literal sense of the word. Sasuke says that the reason he couldn't kill Naruto was because he resented having to get the Mangekyo Sharingan as a result of his brother's influence. But was that the truth? We readers know that it wasn't. In the middle of their fight, a "mental landscape" appears. It shows two children holding hands. The psychology of "denial" occurs without the awareness that one is "denying." In "inner speech," it is still possible to lie to oneself, that is, to lie against one's true feelings to convince oneself. But that is not the case with mental landscapes. Sasuke's "true feelings" are something that Sasuke himself cannot see. The more "invisible" something is, the more one can believe it. I think this principle is probably the idea that runs through the foundation of "Naruto." As the story progresses towards its finale, I am looking forward to seeing how this principle will be reflected in the story.

What's interesting here is that, even though Ito Go acknowledges Sasuke is in the position of a "heroine", he doesn't want to call Naruto and Sasuke's feelings for each other romantic. Makes you wonder what's the line that separates a heroine from a love interest.

But back to the images at the very top of this post, I'd love to hear what you guys think about it.

[leechiourdes]

Additionally I went through the trouble of decoding some the messages from both parts of this entry.

The binary on page 28 was hard to nail down, and the closest I could get was "There's three actually"

I'm very likely missing something, probably didn't copy the text perfectly, so I'm thinking that its actually "There's three _____ actually" or something like that.

"dlsjvtl ihjr dl tpzzlk fvb" at the very end of part two is "welcome back we missed you", obviously alluding to the original comic series

"ishjr slhclz" on EJ is "black leaves". Possibly a rewrite thing for his backstory? Very vague though so its unclear what exactly its referring to.

"shbylu" on page twenty is "lauren". I think this is referring to Lauren from Slender: The Arrival, Kate's friend who tries to check up on her but ends up getting chased around in the woods. Though her name being dropped so suddenly and at such a weird time (when Laz is talking to Lazarus in her room) makes it seem like she's a lot more important. Perhaps she has a hand in created these recordings? I'm pretty sure they're VHS tapes in canon, so perhaps she made/assembled these. Idk, its a really specific theory but I think it could have worked. From what I remember from the game, we don't actually know what happened to her, if she died or what, so maybe she could have done something really important before she kicked the bucket, or just never died in the first place.

Finally, "zol kyvwwlk zvtlaopun avv" on page 16 is "she dropped something too". We don't know if the "she" is Stripes or Jane, so it could be either. It could maybe even be Lauren, seeing as she seems to be something important if her name had to be dropped in the first entry and hidden in with a caesar cipher. Whichever way, they probably messed up somehow, whoopsie daisy.

I may post more of my decoded findings in the future :)

You find a pile of tapes in the middle of the woods

One is marked ENTRY 1

Do you play the tape?

The rest of the ENTRY