#wait does anyone know a good rich person

[identittie-crisis]

btw king charles got cancer and my insta is making bets when he dies. it’s really funny.

[thewispsings]

personal photographer | daniel ricciardo

pairing: daniel ricciardo x photographer!reader

summary: the one where daniel ricciardo is dating his personal photographer.

liked by danielricciardo, maxverstappen1, landonorris, and 527,153 others!

yourusername: my favorite daniel is a smiling one :D

view comments below!

user1: he looks so good

user2: y/n always makes sure she gets the BEST angles of daniel

user3: he is her bf 😭 can’t post photos of him off guard

maxverstappen1: gorgeous

yourusername: 🤨

danielricciardo: don’t be jealous baby (max we talked about this…)

maxverstappen1: i can’t help it, you look so good 🤤

yourusername: that’s MY boyfriend you’re talking about

maxverstappen1: until i make him mine ☺️

user4: #freeynfrommaxverstappen

landonorris: when can y/n come to my garage and take pictures for me?

danielricciardo: um never?

yourusername; don’t be rude daniel 🤨 just text me lando! we’ll figure something out

danielricciardo: um no you won’t. youre MY photographer, not LANDOS.

landonorris: i just want some pictures mate 😕

danielricciardo: WELL GET THEM SOMEWHERE ELSE

user5: jesus daniel it’s okay yns all yours…

liked by landonorris, maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc, and 725,018 others!

daniel3.jpg: the photographer gets photographed

view comments below!

user6: does anyone know what camera y/n uses professionally?? if you do pls let me know 🙏🙏

daniel3.jpg: she uses a canon EOS C70 cinema camera!

user7: that is…a 7 THOUSAND dollar camera.

user8: what the fuck

user9: sometimes i forgot that she’s like rich??

user10: i think that’s the camera daniel bought her as a birthday present, she used to use a Canon EOS Rebel T3i DSLR Camera!! that one’s more on the affordable side, and it lasted her yearrrsss

landonorris: oh but when i take photos of her it’s weird???

daniel3.jpg: YES!! she’s MY girlfriend

landonorris: I TAKE THEM SO I CAN SEND THEM TO YOUUUUUU

user11: y/n is so pretty 🤭🤭

daniel3.jpg: correct!!

user12: she’s so gorgeous

daniel3.jpg: 1000000% agree

user13: the easiest way to get a reply from daniel is to compliment y/n

maxverstappen1: why don’t you post me like this? 😕

daniel3.jpg: we’ve talked about this, you know y/n gets jealous

yourusername: WOW OKAY YOU SICK LIAR 🧍

user: i wonder how many pictures daniel has of y/n like this…

landonorris: LITERALLY thousands.

liked by danielricciardo, daniel3.jpg, maxverstappen1, and 410,017 others!

yourusername; he’s trying to take my job 😡

view comments below!

user14: he could NEVER do it like you tho

user15: y/n we know it’s like your literal job to take pictures of daniel, but pls pls pls the world wants more pictures of YOU

user16: uh pls tell me if the tattoo is on his butt cheek

landonorris: i know where it is 🤫🤫

user16: is it on his butt cheek???

user16: lando pls

user16: is it on the downstairs cheeks

user16: pls lando

user16: LANDO PLEASE

maxverstappen1: you get a tattoo for HER? but not for me. did you ever love me??

danielricciardo: baby please, you know you’re the only one for me

yourusername: he says as he places a kiss on my head AS we cuddle

maxverstappen1: YOURE A SICK MONSTER YN SICK SICK MONSTER.

user17: i’m so jealous of y/n

user18: you and me both sister

user19: i’m actually going insane I NEED TO KNOW WHERE THAT TATTOO IS

user20: man that chicken wing looks nice

user21: where exactly does one apply to take pictures of f1 drivers all day??

user22: wait..were y/n and daniel dating BEFORE she was hired or??

user23: they met on the job!! it was a straight out of wattpad moment

user24: you guys are the cutest ever

maxverstappen1: me and him are cuter.

user25: i’m starting to think it was never a joke..

. . .

notes; i’m thinking of making this like a series?? like f1 drivers dating their __ and it’ll be like, personal trainer, engineer, stylist, and things like that! thank you for reading ♡´･ᴗ･`♡

[afewfantasies]

Hii, love your works!

Can you do a feyd rautha x reader?

They are married and he takes her to meet the harpies because she's curious, they start to like her and become protective of her because she doesn't take feyd away and she cares and treats them good.

Thanks

"PETS" - Feyd-Rautha X Reader

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 1.1K

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Feyd-Rautha X Reader

ᴘʟᴏᴛ: Same as the ask but they aren't married yet.

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: Fluffy with mentions of gore.

Sorry for the wait @kitty95 but here it is 😊

Telling you ‘no’ felt like the only sin Feyd would be slow to commit. He revelled in your happiness and appreciation. The two of you had grown close and he felt like he didn’t need to hide all of his ugly. He’d already taken you into his armoury and then the torture chambers. Aside from the iron rich smell of the blood he watched and listened for something to change about the way you felt about him. But your hand only slipped into his in search of protection and assurance. Your eyes never wavered when you looked at him. Feyd never found you shrugging out of his touch. Somehow this felt different, it was different in every way. Unlike weapons, poisons and his violent delights there was no eminent danger to you. Weapons had to be deployed to be dangerous, his Harpies were anything but safe. They were creatures that lived for his satisfaction and held more bloodlust than even Feyd himself. Unlike most pets, Feyd’s Harpies survived on the flesh of his enemies. Feyd was their only friend. He was the only person they refrained from hissing at, snarling, snapping or biting. His were the hands that fed them and he seldom went to them empty handed. Seeing them gorge didn’t disgust him but it would disgust you. Feyd knew that from the moment he bit into a rare steak on your first night together.

“Feyd please I want to meet them” you ask employing doe eyes knowing they’re his weakness.

“They’re unpredictable, territorial and jealous” he rasps closer to a no than he’s ever been. He looks away and you get out of bed heading to the window to watch the double sun rise on the Giedi Prime.

“Come away from the window” Feyd hisses and you do padding over to him slowly. It’s the speed you can manage after being the subject of Feyd’s insatiable appetite for your flesh. His eyes roam over your naked body. His chest rises and falls as he holds out a hand to stop you. Your feet rest on the cold black tile as he gets out of bed closing the distance to you.

“Don’t you ever, show anyone what’s mine” his tone is harsh while the hold he has on your chin is soft.

“I let you have all of me freely and yet, you do not trust me with your Harpies” you whisper, holding his dark eyes. His conscience plays at him and he swallows his jaw clenching.

“Will you withhold from me should I hold fast in my position and not allow a meeting?” Feyd raises his hairless brow.

“No” you respond without needing to think it over. “But it will hurt,” you confess, grabbing a robe.

——

Your heart rate triples as you enter the forbidden sect of Feyd-Rautha’s quarters. You hear sharp whispers and laughter. You hold a covered platter of liver, the Harpies’ second favourite food according to Feyd. You press the doors open and all three of them are still until they realise you are not Feyd. Their movement is unlike anything you’ve ever encountered and one of them hisses showing off black teeth and gums. Another comes with a raised hand but stops dead in its tracks. Their eyes go white in the centre of their black orbs before dilating back to black. They smell their master all over you.

“I brought you food” you whisper while holding the platter out. The third Harpy takes the platter from you and the smell of the meat snaps them out of the daze caused by your intrusion for a moment. They eat savagely, licking the plate as you watch on in wonder.

“Masters newest pet” one says and you nod. “You smell just like him,” it says, causing you to blush. You’d had a shower prior to this visit and yet it’s done nothing to free you from the scent of Feyd.

“You let him come see us” another says and you nod.

“She isn’t disgusted by us or jealous” another one says looking at you with wide eyed wonder.

“No, you don’t disgust me” you correct. “I love Feyd and he loves you, I just wanted us to meet” you explain and they smile. You hear steps in the distance and they pick up. As Feyd’s concubine you know danger is everywhere and panic. Cold hands grip your arms dragging you behind the large black couch in the centre of their room. Weapons materialise in each of their hands, as well as snarled teeth and violent expressions. You hide, doing as you’ve been instructed only silence befalls the room as the doors open. You count to ten before looking over the couch to see Feyd. His anger fades into amusement as he sees his Harpies ready to defend you with their life. The image of you hiding and them ready to defend you brings him too much amusement. All of his most beloved possessions in one place. You stand and go to walk over to him when one of the Harpy’s grabs you again.

“He’s upset,” she warns, familiar with Feyd’s violent temper.

“I will take her punishment” one of them proposes, causing Fey’s lip to curl up in a smirk.

“No, it’s alright” you say, holding her arm. They all gasp at the gesture. The physical touch and connection most people are terrified to participate in. All four of them pile into a group hug holding you and purring all around you. It’s an overwhelming amount of affection. They purr for a few minutes before turning to Feyd with angry eyes.

“I won’t punish her,” he says, picking his battles wisely. Once you say your goodbyes the Harpies let you go.

“Come back soon!” The one with doe eyes calls before the door is shut. Looking up, Feyd stands in his regalia withholding a smile. You take a deep breath in anticipation of his punishment but he holds a hand out. You slip your hand into his and he smirks.

“Don’t disobey me again” Feyd warns.

“I didn’t, you never told me I couldn’t come at all” you correct and he brings your hand to his lips kissing your fingers softly.

“Tread lightly” he warns and you stop to look up at him. Moving from his side to in front of him you reach your hands up wrapping them around his neck. His head bows automatically. Feyd can’t find anything but utter devotion to him in your eyes. It’s what makes him relent. He pulls you to him by your waist.

“You’re good just as long as you never forget that nobody and nothing adores you more than me” Feyd hisses. Smiling you nod hoping he knows the feeling is mutual.

Author's Note: Thanks for reading all of you Feyd lovers 🖤🖤🖤🖤. Something quick and easy🩶🖤 Let me know if you liked it!

COMMENT, LIKE & REBLOG

[ayanominitrash]

INTRIGUE (True Form Sukuna x Reader)

꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶꒷꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶꒷꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

Humans.

Though weak creatures, they cause chaos wherever and whatever era. It only seems like the only consistent thing in this world. They crawl like the desperate pathetic ants they are, forever struggling to survive day by day. The other idiot ants feel superior to the others, taking advantage of their power that they’d go so far as to take the food that others worked hard to haul onto the hill only for them to have it for themself.  Corruption. No matter the age, Ryomen Sukuna - King of Curses- has witnessed the same thing over and over again. It’s getting a little tiring to look at. 

This is the exact description that anyone in the village would put in the Kamo clan - the corrupt and tyrant rulers. They are wealthy and at the top of the power hierarchy, the very source of corruption, of abuse. The men in the family would beat, abuse, and take advantage of their blood relatives. Some are sold, adding more riches to their unnoble stockpile of treasure. To any lowlife they come across and feel like harassing, they would do so through pain and torture or even just public humiliation just for fun. There wasn’t any person that was brave enough to stand up against them. They were the only ones who were capable of protecting them from curses that would invade them from time to time. The people in that village are under their mercy. Where else can they go when there are curses out there beyond, not knowing how many are out threading freely?

Sukuna sighs in exasperation as he remains squatting on a tree branch, overlooking the nearby village under the bright sun. Sukuna hides in the forest, far away enough that humans wouldn’t loiter around much but close enough that he can watch what goes on in that small puny community. If he does encounter a human, his terrifying four-armed figure will be the last thing that they’d see before their demise. However, in recent days, there haven’t been a lot of humans threading deep into the forest because of the rumors that people who go there never return. Because of this, he hasn’t eaten for weeks and is currently starving for meat. Sukuna debates if it is time to raid the village to satiate his hunger and quench his thirst for blood. 

As if on queue, there was a rustle from the bushes nearby and a familiar scent carried in the wind to which Sukuna wasted no time but to take it all in with one big whiff. It’s the scent that he’s been longing for so long.

Food.

He makes his move, swinging his four arms from one branch to another as quietly as possible, making his way toward the delicious smell. He won’t be bothered to check if this one’s good meat, the only thing he cares about is to quiet down the rumbling of his stomach. When he reaches a safe enough distance, he crouches down his big frame behind one of the bushes near the small river stream. Sukuna’s red eyes shine against the sun as soon as it lands on his meal, licking his lips. 

It was a small girl with short hair, the bottom of her purple kimono neatly folded as she was squatting down at the side of the stream, running a hand in the water while staring in silence. She has her back turned to him as she hums a tune to herself. This was a very easy and effortless catch for Sukuna, a little girl with her guard down. He doubted that he would feel full after ingesting her whole being but it was better than nothing.  The King crouched down and waited, getting ready to pounce until he finally did with a deafening roar. 

Sukuna lands where she is, thinking he has crushed her. He was ready to dig his fingers into her body when he realized that he didn’t hear any screaming and that there was no one underneath him. Confused, he looks around only to see the girl had dogged him and is now holding her hands up.  This completely baffled Sukuna as he stared at the girl’s shocked but not scared face.

“E-easy there, I don’t intend to harm you. I’m sorry if I wandered too far into your territory.” She says in a high-pitched shaky voice. “I-I know you must be h-hungry. I’m actually carrying hens in the b-basket I’m carrying, if that would suffice”

Watching the girl talk made his blood boil. How dare she outwit him by dodging his attack? He would’ve consumed her by now if it weren’t for her eagerness to live. The foolish human thinks she can talk her way out of getting eaten by the King of Curses. He runs towards her, claws extended in front of him when she jumps out of the way again but this time, he can grab her by the foot. She yelps in pain at what he thought because of his grip but he looks down and sees a massive bruise on her ankle. It looked like it had been there for a few days so it couldn’t be because of him. She screams and lands on the shallow side of the water, wetting her hair, face, and upper body. He drags her leg towards him, laughing at the way she digs her fingers into the soil trying to stop herself from getting dragged. With ease, he lifts her upside down with one hand, satisfied with the way her Kimono drops down exposing her slender legs and undergarments.

“Oi, oi, oi! That’s no way to treat a lady, Mister!” She makes an effort to shake her fist at him despite being upside down. “P-please, maybe you should try the hen first?!”

The gull of this human to keep talking as if her life was not about to end made him stop in his movements to look down on her. Her face is panicked but not scared. This takes the fun out of killing her but he’s really after the food instead of the thrill. Still, Sukuna has never encountered a girl who acted this way. It was always screaming, crying, and flailing their hands which made it all the more delicious when he finally sank his sharp teeth into their flesh, silencing the pathetic pleas. Still holding her upside down, his eyes curiously do a double take on this peculiar filth he managed to catch. The little girl, no, this young woman had bruises, burns, and cuts all over her limbs. Some wounds have already been scars but others are still healing. The curse thought this person was a little girl but no doubt she was a woman with her mature figure and breasts. It was just that she was incredibly thin as if the concept of food was never introduced to her. Sukuna knows that he told himself before he attacked that he wasn’t gonna bother with the quality of this meat, but this made him lose his appetite. But mostly, he was curious about what this filth went through, and why doesn’t she act as if life was taken from her, like an empty shell. Instead, she has a wild and bright spirit in her that burns his eyes. It was. . . interesting.

He drops her to the ground.

“See, see! Hens do sound good if you just give it a chance. Come, come!” The woman scrambles to her feet to reach for the basket near the stream. She whips it around and offers it to him, with a hopeful smile on her face or a grateful one for having shown mercy. “They’re fresh from my uncle’s farm!” 

He stares at this ridiculous scene in front of him for a moment before crossing both pairs of his arms. “Get that fucking thing out of my face, you filthy being. What do you take me for?” 

The curse’s deep menacing voice was frightening enough that the young woman recoiled, pulling the hen back to her chest.  She was too stunned to say anything. 

“Well then, why didn’t you eat me if you didn’t want the hen?” 

This made Sukuna pull a dumbfounded face for her to talk to him so bluntly. He curls his lips in amusement, “You’re as filthy as they come, human. You’ve ruined my appetite with your disgusting state.”

“Hm?! Do you mean my injuries? I didn’t know curses were so picky.” She puts her hand on her chin as if in deep thought. 

“So you know what a curse is then, filth. Are you not afraid?”

“Should I be?” For the first time, there was a small smile on her lips as she stared up into the king’s eyes. “I’m well aware that people who enter the forest never come back and I know for sure that they’re eaten by curses. I didn’t think I’d encounter one so soon though, and it is the King himself, no less.”

It’s as if everything that comes out of this filth’s mouth was made to surprise Sukuna every time it opens. He still hadn’t come to terms with that this was all happening, so he couldn’t stop himself from laughing maniacally out loud out of the ridiculousness of it all, of his sharp teeth bearing in front of her. She flinches a little at the sight of him.

“You amuse me!” He finally says as soon as he stops laughing. “Bear to me your name, filth.”

She says her name in a small voice. 

“Never heard of you! Nonetheless, I shall not forget you, filth. I’m  still hungry and I’m still going to eat you despite how you are.” 

He laughs a little when he sees her shoulders drop and deflate at the realization that her life was not spared, the hen finally flies out of her grasp. 

“Uh- I know I came here knowing my fate but it seems that I'm afraid to die after all. I know you’re hungry. Are you alright with at least an arm? Or a leg? I can give you that much.” 

Again, he was taken aback by the words that left her lips once more. Before he can even say anything, she throws her left arm in his direction. “How about this arm?! There aren't many cuts here?” 

For the first time, Ryomen Sukuna, the King of Curses, was at a loss for words. He glares down at the odd creature in front of him, wondering what’s wrong with her. He takes a few steps back, widening the distance between them. After a few steps, he plops himself cross-legged on the ground. They carefully watch each other in silence, wary of each movement one of them makes. In the background, the hen she was once holding was leisurely bathing itself in the shallow end of the water. 

“Human,” Sukuna finally speaks to her, who flinches again. “Tell me, why are you decorated like a warrior and sickly thin like that of a twig?” 

The girl deflates in her seat again in the grass. She looked down at the stream and opted to go back to her position before Sukuna attacked her, one hand dipping in the water. Silence blankets them once more as she gathers her thoughts. 

“Hmmm. . .if you’re not going to eat me, then what are you planning to eat? Do you eat pigs?”

“I asked you a question, filth. I have yet to hear your answer.”

“- Because if you eat pigs, I could go ahead and grab one from the village and offer it to you. I don’t think I just leave knowing that you’re hungry if you’re kind enough not to kill me.”

“Are you not going to answer me?”

“Can I at least offer you something to eat first before I do?”  She gives a sheepish smile. “I know what it’s like not having anything to eat, as you can tell. My arm is still on the offer if that will help you.” 

“Bring me another human, then.” 

She was quiet for a bit, removing her hand from the water and then bringing it up to her chin in thought, not minding the water droplets dripping on her kimono since it was already messy from the earlier event. “Do you think an older lady will be okay? She’s on the brink of her death. She’s got a plump frame.”

Sukuna laughs again in amusement. “Do you have no regard for your kind? Oh, Humans!”

She shrugs, then grins, “I heard you like cooked humans. I can cook her for you if you’d like.”

His ears perk at this. It has been a while since he tasted cooked human meat. His previous servant was the only one who could cook for him and they have long since parted nearly a decade ago. His stomach growls at the mere suggestion of grilled meat. 

She lightly laughs, her eyes softening. “I take that as a yes. I can do that much for you for your kindness. You may find it odd for me to kill my kind, but honestly, I think it’s better to put her out of her misery. She was a great woman.” 

“How do I know you’ll come back, filth? I know, if you do not come back when the full moon rises, I will burn down your village.” 

Sukuna had a small inkling that she wouldn’t mind her village burning down, seeing how she is all covered in different types of injuries just from living there, but the mere mention of her village made the color drain from her face.

“Understood, then.” As the girl stands up with the basket full of hens, she makes an effort to dust off her kimono but it doesn't do anything. “Full moon it is!”

“Hurry up, fifth. I do not like waiting.” Sukuna says before standing up and walking back into the forest where he came from. 

⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖

(❀❛ ֊ ❛„)♡ reblogs and comments are appreciated//do not repost my work anywhere // this is one of my first Sukuna fics and I wrote this way back on March this year damn //not re-proofread so sorry if some parts dont make sense or some typa cringe lol

[lunajay33]

Am I Good Enough

🩸🖤♟️🍷

Summary: You were on a solo trip to Italy taking a tour of an old castle when everything changes, but will this random guy accept you for who’s and what you are?

Pairing: Alec Volturi x human f!reader

•Masterlist•

Taking a trip to Italy was a last minute decision, firstly needing a break from my boring life and for some reason Italy always just called to me, like there was something waiting there for me

After a long tire some flight I finally landed in Italy, stepping out into the hot heat, waving down a taxi before anyone else could cut infront of me, only traveling with my backpack for easy travel, I told the driver to take me to Volterra, only an hour drive from the airport, seeing pictures of it on a guide and thought it would be a beautiful start to my trip

Finally we arrived in volterra, I paid and now standing infront of this beautiful castle, the town was fully stone built, it was beautiful unlike anything I’ve ever seen before, as I was walking down the street I got stopped by a woman, her hair luscious, he skin was flawless, her eyes so beautiful even though they must be contacts since they were such a rich red, her smile enticing

“Hi there you seem like a girl who’d love a good tour and I just so happen to be showing the castle right now for free! Does that interest you at all?” Her voice was so melodic like she was a siren I was pulled in nodding immediately watching as her smile grew, I followed her to the castle like a puppy meeting up with a group of other tourists

She led us through the castle not stopping to tell us about anything interesting we passed, finally we got to a set of big wooden door that looked like they weighed a ton but she pushed them open with ease, there beyond the doors was a huge room, marble and tile covered every inch, three thrones sat on the pedestal further back in the room, where three men sat seemingly looming over us all, others stood around the room watching us like they were ready to pounce, the doors behind us slammed soon hearing the first scream of many, it was a blood bath as the people dressed in black went from person to person until I was the only one standing

“It seems we missed one brothers and sisters”

“I’ve got her” a tall man said as he started right for me before he was stopped by the older man that sat on the throne

“WAIT” his voice boomed through the chamber, everyone stopping to look at him

He got up off the throne seemingly weak as he glided over to me

“Dear child it seems someone here has been waiting for you for a long long time” he smiled as he turned to a guy who was the most ethereal beautiful person I’ve ever seen, everything about him lured me in, he eyed me the same way and in an instant he was infront of me

“My Lord are you sure about this, she is my mate?”

“Yes child she is your other half”

“But she is human, this can’t be”

“It was meant to be, don’t over think this, it’s the best gift the universe could give you”

“Come we must talk” he said as he led me back out through the doors, silently walking through the vast halls until we finally made it to a huge room decorated in black and ruby red, books covering the walls

“Sit” he demanded as he gestured to the bed

“You haven’t said a word this whole time you must be in shock” he said sitting opposite of me on the bed

“No……surprisingly I’m the calmest I’ve ever been, but I still don’t know what’s going on”

“I must admit you are cute, most beautiful human I’ve ever seen” his words made the blood rush to my cheeks making him smile

“I’d say the same for you but I don’t quite think you’re human….right?”

“You’d be right my rose, we are vampires some much older than others but we rule over the vampiric world, we enforce the laws so the humans don’t become suspicious about our kind”

“Then why are you telling me, why didn’t you just kill me like everyone else in the room”

“Some of us vampires have special powers, the one that talked to you was Marcus one of our lords, he can sense the bond of those who are mated to each other, he could sense that we are meant to be with one another” my heart was racing fast, I was sure he could hear it

“Mates? That’s…..are you sure I mean I’m just a human am I good enough for you?” His eyes softened for the first time

“We will figure this out this isn’t the first time a vampire has been mated to a human, I just got lucky enough to get such a diamond”

It’s been a month now and it’s been well……amazing I didn’t get a lot of alone time with Alec seeing he had a lot of guard duty but when he’d wake me at night so I could curl up to him as he held me, sometimes he’d leave cute notes in the books I’d be reading that always got my heart beating, sometimes leaving red roses on the table for me whenever he had to work late, he made me feel like a goddess, giving me a love I’ve never thought I’d feel before…….well until today

Walking into the library to grab another book hoping to find something more intriguing than the books Alec had collected over the years

Looking on the second balcony I stopped when I heard voices on the main level, Alec always warned me of some other vampires, newer to the Volturi that may not have a reign on their blood thirst as the older vamps, as their voices got louder I recognized them as Jane and Demetri

“You seem more cruel than usual Jane, something the matter?” Demetri asked, I stood completely still as I listened to the conversation

“Alec won’t stop going on and on about that….that rat, complete filth of a human, I mean what fates put them together, she’s just a lowly human, I could kill her in a second and her life would mean nothing”

“Jane don’t be so harsh have you even spoken to her, she’s quite the girl, she’s perfect for Alec”

“No human is good enough for Alec” she scoffed before she stormed out, the doors slamming behind her, I let out a breath I didn’t even know I was holding

My heart felt like a ton of bricks, maybe I wasn’t enough for Alec I mean it’s been a month and we haven’t moved past just holding each other in bed, or a little pec on the check, maybe I’m over thinking everything but there still that nagging at the back of my mind that Jane might be right I mean she’s his twin she knows him best

I ditched my journey to get a new book and headed back to Alec’s and I’s room hoping to just clear my head and try and forget about this gut wrenching feeling

I threw myself down on the bed when a voice shocked me out of my fleeting moment of peace

“What seems to trouble you amore?” I shot up in the bed looking across the room to where the voice came from seeing Alec sat on the couch looking beautiful as ever

“Oh umm it’s nothing just tired” in a flash he was kneeled infront of me at the side of the bed, his hands holding mine

“Amore you know you can’t lie to me, I hear your lovely heart race everytime, now tell me”

“I just…..I don’t know, I feel sometimes that I’m not everything you need we haven’t even kissed yet and i know the others think this too”

“My love, you are everything I have waited for, you calm me down when I feel my anger rise, you thaw my cold dead heart, and for the other I haven’t kissed you yet because I wanted to take this slow for you, I’m quite into courting if you haven’t noticed, this is special so I’m enjoying my time with every little moment” he smiled running his thumb over my hand soothingly

“I….I love you Alec, and I know I can have my doubts sometimes but I really do, you’ve made me feel more loved than I ever have before” I said placing my hand on his cold cheek

“I love you to my angel, and I want you to never worry about my I devoted love for you, nothing with ever change than no matter if your human or a vampire, I’m yours till the end of time”

More alec oneshots are on their way

Story inspired by @kimi240302 Alec story go check it out!!

[katsu28]

"send ☕ along with a prompt from any one of the lists below and a character of your choosing, and i'll write you a one shot to satisfy your craving!"

☕: prompt 23 from list e for rafe!! 🫶🏻🫶🏻

it pains me to paint my pogues in a not so great light but i will forever love protective rafe <3 thank you for requesting!

rafe cameron x reader, minimal swearing, 1.9k

“Look who it is! The Princess Kook, slummin’ it on our side of the island for once.” 

Your grip tightened around the pack of beer you were holding at the voice coming from behind you, because you already knew who it was. There was only one person ballsy enough to speak so critically of you, and you were pretty damn sure he was standing right behind you.

Lo and behold there he was, flanked by a more bored looking John B. 

JJ Maybank was and always had been on your case, though you suspected it had more to do with your family name than with you yourself—always spouting off about money and wealth and eating the rich. You understood where he was coming from, of course, but that didn’t mean it stopped being irritating.

It just seemed like he was always riding you about being some little rich girl with daddy’s money, not an actual person, with actual feelings. But after a while, you’d grown used to it. JJ was all bark and no bite. 

“Hi, JJ.” You sighed, shifting your weight to one leg. You nodded at John B, who did the same back to you. “How’s it going?” 

“Didn’t know our booze was good enough for Her Majesty’s taste.” JJ sneered, crossing his arms over his chest. You rolled your eyes at his dig. “Rafe know you’re over here?” 

“He’s not my keeper.” 

“What’re you even doing here, Y/N? They don’t got beer on Figure Eight?” John B sounded a little bit nicer, more tired than bitchy like his blond friend. 

“Cheaper here.” 

“Like you don’t have enough fuckin’ money.” JJ scoffed. John B jabbed a sharp elbow into his side, a sign for him to shut up. 

“Look guys, I’m not looking for any trouble. I just wanna get some beer and go home, that’s it.” 

“How ‘bout you leave the beer here and run back to your little princess castle instead?” 

“You’re a real prick tonight, JJ. Something got your panties all up in a bunch?” You shouldn’t have snarked back, that you knew, but he was really getting on your nerves tonight. You weren’t sure why. His words usually just slid right off you. 

JJ’s expression darkened and he scowled, brows furrowing. “Maybe ‘cause I just got fired from the Club this morning.” 

“What, why?” You asked, surprised. It was a genuine question. JJ was a definite pain in your ass, maybe with an attitude problem but still a good employee. 

“Oh, drop the clueless act. Pretty sure it was one of your stuck up friends who complained.” 

“I’m sorry you got fired, JJ, I am, but I had nothing to do with it. And there’s nothing I can do about it either. I don’t have that kind of pull with anyone at the Club, neither does my family.” 

You figured it would be better if you left now before JJ came up with another retort, or you'd likely be here trading snippy insults with each other all night, and you had better things to do with your time. There was some sympathy in you for him, but your statement was still true. There was nothing you could do for him, even if you wanted to. And besides, Rafe was waiting on you for a movie night. 

Leaving the conversation and the beer you were supposed to get behind, you hurried back to your car. The quicker you got to Rafe’s place, the quicker you could forget about it. 

Only a couple minutes into the drive, headlights flashed in your mirror. No big deal, probably just someone heading the same way as you. You were on the main road to the other side of the island, after all. 

Then the car sped up a bit, coming dangerously close to your back bumper before retreating a sizable distance behind—once, twice. By the third time, you were starting to get a little pissed. 

“What the fuck?” You muttered, squinting to get a better look at it. A big camper van, old from what you make out in the darkness, faded orange—oh fuck. You knew that van, John B’s old clunker of a car. And if you squinted a little harder, you could almost make out the same blond head of hair that was antagonizing you back at the store. 

So JJ did have a little bite in him. You sure as hell weren’t going to stick around to find out. 

Stepping on the gas a little harder, you took the long way back to the Figure 8, weaving through the backroads you’d known like the back of your hand since before you were able to drive. Back then, you’d done it on your bike, peals of laughter echoing through the overgrown fields of the Cut turned clean lines of pristinely cut lawns the closer you got to home, as Rafe chased after you on his own. 

Still, the van followed you on your way. With every glance at it in the rearview mirror, you grew a little more worried.

JJ’s driving was erratic, like he was playing a game of cat and mouse with you. If he really wanted to hurt you, this would be the ideal place to do it. There was nothing but grass and weeds around here. Nobody would find you for hours, even days if he were to run you into a ditch or something. 

That thought alone spurred you to drive even faster, driving and driving until you took one more look in the mirror to see that the van had stopped. You watched the headlights grow smaller in the distance, forcing yourself to keep driving until you got to safety—to Rafe. 

You screeched to a stop in front of Rafe’s townhouse, barely giving a backwards glance to see if they were really gone before hurrying the rest of the way to the front door. Hands trembling, you balled them both into fists, raising one to knock as loudly as you could. You could barely hear the thud of your fist on the wood over your thundering heart. 

The door opened in an instant, Rafe’s smiling face greeting you. It quickly faded when he took in your wide eyes, your hard breathing. He pulled you inside immediately, sliding the locks home behind you before gathering you into his arms. “What happened?”

You explained as quick as you could, but the adrenaline from the whole thing was starting to die down. Your previous thoughts were starting to seem silly at this point. JJ was a hothead, but you didn't think he’d go so far as to take out his anger on you. He was probably just trying to scare you, nothing more, nothing less. 

Rafe, on the other hand, was livid. 

“Did they hurt you?” He asked, voice dangerously low. His eyes searched you for any visible injuries, hands sliding over your body with the utmost care, a stark contrast to the storm creeping into his beautiful blue eyes. “I swear to god if those punks even laid a finger on you—” 

“No, no, they didn’t hurt me, Rafe. I’m okay now, I promise. Just a little shaken up is all.” You assured him, stopping his search by lacing your fingers through his. He still looked unsure. “I’m fine, baby. Honest.” 

Rafe’s brows furrowed long and hard, and you reached up, attempting to smooth out the deep wrinkle between them with your thumb. 

You traced above one of them, trailing down over the skin under it before letting your palm settle against his cheek. His eyes fluttered shut for a split second as he leaned more into your touch. The wrinkle disappeared. 

“Okay. But you’re not going home tonight. You’re gonna stay here, with me, and I’m gonna have a talk with my sister in the morning, okay?” He was calmer now, you could tell. The sharp edge to his voice was gone, his shoulders relaxed the more you stroked along his skin. You nodded, satisfied. “Can I make you something? Tea? A snack? I’ve got those cheese puffs you’re so obsessed with, though I don’t really see how good—” 

“Rafe,” You chided, smiling warmly, “You don’t have to dote on me. I’m fine.” 

“I know. My girl’s strong.” He murmured, turning his head to press a kiss to the soft skin of your palm. “Just had me worried for a bit, that’s all.” 

You kissed him, short and sweet, before tugging him towards the living room. Your gaze landed on the snacks he’d laid out on the coffee table first, drifting to the heaps of blankets and pillows on the couch right after.

Everything was already set up perfectly, and with all that had happened in just the past hour, sent a warmth flooding through your body, a sense of safe and love and home that you only ever felt when you were with Rafe. 

Rafe suddenly looked bashful, scratching the back of his neck with an embarrassed grin at the way you were looking at him. “What? I was excited to see you.” 

“You saw me yesterday, Rafe.” You chided lightly, completely failing at a stern look in favor of something much fonder. 

“Doesn’t mean I can’t miss you.” 

“Rafe Cameron, are you going soft on me?” You hummed, settling onto the couch. Rafe threw himself down next to you with a nonchalant shrug, resting an idle hand on your knee when you threw your legs across his thighs, but the answer was a resounding yes.

Yes, he was soft for you. Yes, he loved you more than he loved anything and anyone in this world. 

He knew it, you knew it, and that was what prompted him to speak his next words. 

“Y’know, I’ve been thinking.” 

“Uh oh.” You snickered, drawing a roll of his eyes with a lopsided smile. 

“Hilarious. Anyways, um, what would—I mean, what’re your thoughts about maybe…moving in with me?” 

“Here?” Maybe you sounded a bit more skeptical than you meant to, because Rafe quickly backtracked, sitting up straight. 

“Doesn’t have to be here. We could get a new place, if you want.” He replied, shaking his head. “Top’s uncle works in real estate, I could probably get him to show us some places within the next couple of days—”

“No.” 

Rafe’s expression crumpled. “No? No, as in no, you don’t want to live together?” 

You amended your rather blunt statement with a hand placed over his. “No, as in no, I don’t want to get a new place. I wanna live here. With you.” 

“You do?” 

“Don’t look so surprised, Cameron, your place is way nicer than mine.” You teased. Clearly amused, he scoffed, giving your calf a playful pinch. 

“That the only reason?” 

“‘Course not. I’m also looking forward to that fancy shower head in your bathroom.” 

Rafe snorted, pulling you close against him, pressing his forehead against yours. He looked a bit funny like this, nearly bug-eyed because of your close proximity, but you thought he’d never looked cuter. “And me?” 

You peppered kisses to his cheeks, chin, nose, the corners of his mouth in lieu of an answer, loud and over dramatic and definitely obnoxious, but it made him laugh. Then you kissed him right where he wanted, firm and loving against his lips to say yes, always you, and he smiled. 

Moving in with Rafe meant getting to hear your favorite laugh, see your favorite smile, every single day waking up next to him. You hoped you’d get to experience it for the rest of your life, starting now. 

follow @katsu-library to be notified when i post a new fic :)

[iiseult]

Hello, I was wondering what the life of the female reader would be like when King Baldwin was not a leper. I mean, what would their life be like together as a married couple?

𝐵𝒶𝓁𝒹𝓌𝒾𝓃 𝐼𝒱 𝐻𝑒𝒶𝒹𝒸𝒶𝓃𝑜𝓃𝓈: 𝒩𝑜𝓃-𝓁𝑒𝓅𝓇𝑜𝓊𝓈 𝐸𝒹𝒾𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃

CWs → fluff, smut, probable historical inaccuracies, she/her pronouns, afab reader, mentions of religion, childbirth

Note: I know this took like over a month to get to, but in my defense I was working on completing the first arc of my multichapter Baldwin x reader fic. Also, if anyone’s interested, I started posting an alternate version of that on ao3 that’s in third person and from the perspective of a girl named Semele. As far as actual writing goes I think it’s much better quality simply because I don’t have to do all that corny second person bullshit or use the words “Y/N.” That’s a real pain in my ass. Anyway! 

Wordcount: 852

King Baldwin’s standards are high. He is a gorgeous young man with the world at his fingertips and he wants a woman, not a girl, to explore it with him. 

She must be good. She does not need to be rich or noble, but she needs to be selfless and kind and bold. And he needs someone who can match him in intellect so he doesn’t get bored. 

His hair frames his face in charming golden waves that fall to about his chin. His eyes are a deep cerulean, lined by long lashes, and his lips are pink and shapely, if a bit on the thin side. The nose is strong and straight, the jaw is square and sharp, the cheekbones are high and structured, and the skin covering it all is smooth and healthy. A light smattering of tiny freckles paint his nose and cheeks. His body is strong, with substantial broad shoulders, and what muscle he has is subtle but genuine. 

Sometimes his movements are awkward, a little different from other well-bred boys his age, and perhaps that’s what makes him so appealing. So mysterious. And, by the way, he certainly is appealing. 

Every woman that lays eyes on him, and even some that have never had that honor and know of him only from word of mouth, want him. Every woman thinks she can somehow be good enough for him. Of course, maybe one in one thousand of them actually is. 

When a lady finally catches his eye, it would be for her wit or her bravery. Perhaps she would beat him in a game of chess, or speak out against what she thinks is wrong. The more cruelty in her smile, the more attractive she becomes. 

When he proposes, it’s very romantic, very personal, and above all, very private. Though he surely makes the experience memorable for his future wife, he doesn’t do anything over-the-top. It does not involve other people, and perhaps it doesn’t even take place at a particular spot. The most important part of the proposal, after all, is the words he is speaking, the vow he is making. He puts his silver tongue to good use, so that saying no isn’t even an option anymore. How could she possibly turn him down? 

 He can’t wait to get his hands on her. The wedding night is something he has long been looking forward to, knowing that it would be worth it to wait for the right woman, and of course, it exceeds his expectations. How could he have guessed how soft, how supple her flesh would feel beneath him? How sweet and yielding? There was nothing that could have prepared him for the feeling of warmth that wholly enveloped him the first time they made love. It was something that could never be recreated by his own hand. It could only ever occur by the soft hand, or the cruel, relentless lips of his young wife. 

His body is young and robust, as is hers, and they are both brimming with passion and want. The first month of the marriage is spent mostly alone together, trapped in an endless cycle of tiring each other out, sleeping, waking, and doing the whole damned thing all over again. It would take no time at all for the seed to be planted in her fertile womb and a baby to begin to grow. 

Seeing his wife pregnant would only make him fall in love with her more, if such a thing were even possible. Now she is carrying a little miracle inside her, and to him, the world around her positively glows. He is, in a word, infatuated. So proud. He takes her into town and practically parades her around, the curve of her swollen belly growing more and more obvious under the fabric of her gown. Isn’t she beautiful, he would say to Raymond, and to Sybilla, and to anyone else who was unlucky enough to engage him in conversation. 

During the birth, he stayed by her side. He was the one to wipe the sweat from her forehead with damp towels, to hold her hand and cry softly from seeing her in such pain. He loves her so much, and he was going to love that baby, too. He was going to positively spoil it. That is, if it didn’t kill her! He cries more than she does during the birth, and though he does everything he can to ease her pain and help the midwife speed along the process, mostly he can do nothing but stand around and wring his hands and look helplessly at his love, his eyes swimming with wild fear and affection and awe. She’s so strong, how is she doing it? 

Once the baby is born, though the sheets of her bed are soiled with various fluids, he lays down next to his wife and holds her in his arms and she holds their baby in her arms, and they all sleep, a perfect family. The baby is going to look just like her, he thinks, and he will love it. 

[bun-z-bakery]

(Repost from my abandoned account) these are just my personal head canons for dogday. this is a survivor au

(All characters are over 18 btw)

-dogday sometimes has dog like tendencies, like growling, barking etc.

-he doesn't remember a lot about his life as a worker but will share stories he remembers of his human life once you two become close.

-man is like a love sick puppy. First you save him? Give him legs? AND a home?! And his friends are here too?! You really are his angel.

-he's very protective of his angel. He can't have anyone take them away or even hurt them. Plus all those years locked away, he can't loose you, you're his hope.

-this man will most certainly plan his confession, script and all. Maybe you're away at work and this is something he's been working on for a while. He's always bringing you little gifts on his hunting trips (depending on if you like to collect rocks and such) but this dude went out of his way to find the best of the best. Even somehow found flowers beautiful enough to almost rival your beauty, keyword: almost.

-he enjoys spending time with you, poppy and kissy, he enjoys playing outside with you three, even if you guys have been out of the factory for years already. They still enjoy the outside world.

-I know bro is huge, like dude is taller than an American door way (according to some measurements fans have made, hes 9'5) if you're a shorty (like me 5 feet even😭) he will most definitely pick you up and carry you like a dogtoy. He likes the feeling of carrying his angel, it gives him a sense of pride doing so. Even if you accidentally hit the ceiling or he needs to really get down so you don't hit the top of the doorframe, he will always apologize or joke about it.

-he's a cuddler, he LOVES cuddling! He has his own giant dog bed in your shared room, but he prefers to sleep on your shared bed. If you're away from work and he's eepy, he'll pass out on your bed because it smells like you. Your scent keeps him at bay until you come home. Poor guy will shoot up and push anyone out of his way to be the first to get to you! He sits there on the floor waiting for his mandatory headpats and kisses as soon as he hears your keys.

-it takes his brain a few minutes to properly turn on. After all those years he finally gets proper sleep, I can imagine you waking up first and getting ready for the day to prepare breakfast for the group and you poke him, trying to wake him. He'll mumble some random stuff about not letting rats do taxes then fall back asleep only to be woken again by your pokes still talking nonsense. I can also see him sometimes waking up confused, you know like when you wake up your parents and they're mad for no reason asking what's wrong while gasping for air? (Just me?) I can see him being THAT dead asleep bhahsha

-my take on the survivor au is more of a modern take (as in yes the factory closed years also but reader is possibly in early to late 20s sometime in 20xx / non specified year) so they weren't an employee but probably knew someone like a family member who worked there or was dared to enter the factory (we'll see if I ever post my fanfic haha as these hcs kinda tie into that story) so dogday being alive in the 80s or 90s he probably has like the old school idea of love and attempts to swoon you as such. The flowers, cheesy pick up lines.

-I can imagine because he's not up to date with the newer terms and he might be confused while trying to seem cool haha. "Angel what does rizzler mean?" (Poor peepaw)

- Personally I love the theory that DogDay is an ex worker aka Rich. Which is probably why he was the leader of the smiling critters. Because he was mature enough to make sure everyone was in line/well behaved, I also think some other workers were turned into the mascots too (obviously) but maybe they trusted Rich more so they just threw him into the dance circle and hope that he'd be a good leader.

- this one ties into the first one btw! I like the think that maybe he was one of the mascots when he worked there. Like a guy in the costume who worked with the kids (hence the zipper, how else would the workers get into the bigger body suits?)

- I like to think DogDay likes when Angel calls him by his old human name. Maybe once he opens up more about his human life (or at least bringing up some of the memories he still has) he just randomly brings up his name when talking about a memory and hearing Angel repeat his name back, he'd probably like hearing it. It might make him feel like less of a monster in a sense. Granted I think he wouldn't care about what Angel calls him but he would most definitely prefer for them to alternate. Like you know when someone makes you mad and you use their real name instead of their nickname? He'd hate for his Angel to get mad, especially at him. But when living with 3 other people it can get a bit hectic.

"DogDay! Did you bring mud into the house?!"

"N-No!... "

*silence*

"RICH, WHERE ARE YOU?!"

*footsteps are heard and DogDay bolts out the door*

- Now this head canon I have can go either one of two ways, right? Hear me out. Listen up, listen carefully, and listen closely. (Lmk if you got that reference) ok so back to the zipper! I think the zipper just opens to his organs tbh like the zipper was just left functional in case he needed to be "repaired internally". BUT another thought, I also can see there being some sort of barrier! You know those stuff animals who have their stuffing blocked by a barrier so it doesn't fall out but the zipper opens to a compartment where you can store items? I kinda think that's whats there tbh, I mean it makes sense. What if one of the kids opened the zipper by mistake? Surely there would be a barrier just in case.

- as I mentioned in the last hc post, I can see him trying to swoon Angel in the old romantic type of way. I can see him pinning after Angel hard, at first they wouldn't get the hint, they'd probably think he's thinks he's indebted to them for rescuing them and giving the 3 of them a better and new life. But quickly they realize bro is in love. Of course poppy teases him about it too at some point lol. He doesn't really try to hide it either. I can see poppy and kissy thinking it's sweet and first then they get annoyed once you're the only thing he talk about lol.

- You're married. That's all! No but I can see in his mind you two are basically married. He'd probably want to have new custom star collars made for both of you or maybe even a ring for you and a matching collar or something for him to wear and propose. Of course it will bother him a bit because he can't go out with you, take you on dates or show you off but he trusts you (even though he gets jealous when you smell like someone else) he basically tries his best with what you guys have (If only there was a holiday that came once a year where you guys could go out dressed in customs without looking like freaks).

- He looks like the type of guy who would love pasta. I'm not sure why or how this even came into mind but I just feel like that's what he often wants for dinner. Poppy would probably eat fruit for dinner, kissy isn't really picky, but Dogday would probably be asking for either pasta or meat. Also I think Angel would be hesitant to feed certain foods to Dogday because you know, he's a dog (not really but hear me out) but because he acts like one at times I could see Angel being like haha nope you can't eat this!

*Angel eating chocolate cookies*

"May I have some?" *cutely pouts*

"I don't want you dying, love."

"You know I'm not actually a dog...right?"

ok ok you got me there" (they just really didn't wanna share lol)

- tbh this is more of a general head canon for the toys but I seeing as they had to resort to c*nnibalism. They clearly need food and water to survive. I think catcap was probably keep Dogday alive as a "lol now look at you now, look at me" (yes that's a BP reference) moment but only feeds him when he felt like it, since food is basically scarce in that place. I think that their human organs were transferred over but little things like veins, teeth, tongue, blood vessels basically anything that's not a major organ was made artificially and connected in a sense to those major organs making them function as such.

Yeah that's kinda it lol, there might be some more parts to this if I can think of anything else! But yeahhh that's kinda my hc and rambles lol (I tend to ramble a lot especially when I have to give context, I apologize!)

[ballad-of-birdy-lamb]

hi saw ur reqs are open <3 can i request a sejanus x snow!reader like imagine him being in love/dating coryo’s sister… her being super sweet and understanding which just makes him act like a total fool around her. 😼🫶 (coriolanus watching sejanus give his sister heart eyes and being totally over it)

I ❤️ Sejanus Plinth. Also, I'm so sorry I haven't gotten to this, school has been a lot. I'm very grateful for you for waiting.

Sejanus Plinth x Snow! Female! Reader (romantic headcanons)

Trigger warning: mention of Coriolanus, Strabo, and Dr. Gaul

Congrats, you found the only normal person to date in the Capital

Though you had grown up in a “the districts are evil” presence from Grandma’am, you picked up Tigris’ kindness and weren't affected by the same disgust Coriolanus felt for others. No matter how much kindness was spread in the home, the fact you were dating Sejanus affected the family and how they viewed you, especially how Coriolanus viewed you

Grandma’am felt he had been “driven down the right path” by being in the Capital most of his life and felt more at ease with the boy. Tigris was just as pleasant as she was with anyone. Coriolanus doesn't take it easy

Coriolanus already had a problem with judging Sejanus but it's grown worse. What do you mean there's a “possibility” that he'll stay forever?! Sejanus is weird to him! Coriolanus believed he was affecting you with his “extreme” ideologies (extreme being the good treatment of the districts)

It does influence the relationship but not too much. Sejanus doesn't grow negative from your family. He doesn't always go around Grandma’am because one wrong move and she's ranting about how the Capital should have done worse to the districts

Sejanus is very willing to talk to Ma about the relationship and goes to her for advice. He always takes in what she likes and what you might like. He asks at random about your favorite things he could buy

Speaking of not being around specific family members, Strabo is the last person to know about you and Sejanus. Ma knows from the beginning and actively helps him with dates and presents. Strabo, on the other hand, constantly makes comments about how it's “good for the families” because you're both considered well-known. He never takes in the idea you both have actual love for the other

He is the sweetest guy you could ever date. No, he's not experienced with romance but tries. Not a lot of people want to date a boy from a district

Sejanus will try to plan something memorable for your dates, it's the only time he truly enjoys how rich he is. He’ll never admit that to Strabo

Whenever he goes on his usual rants against Dr. Gaul, he goes to you for comfort. Sejanus never says he wants comfort from you, he doesn't always want to burden you with his feelings, he'll just stay close. He’ll be open about his feelings and how much he despises some people for how cruel they are

For the last headcanon, he says “thank you” after your first kiss.

[bachissidehoe]

A love triangle with Nagi & Reo

Nagi just never told you how he felt, feelings would be a hassle. Especially when he considers the thought that you may not return them, and then he has to deal with the hassle of losing you in his life. He’s known you since middle school, where you were the reason he studied hard enough to make it into this school. You let him live his lazy life, give him company when he wants it and leave him alone when he would rather keep to himself. He can’t imagine a better life than one with you.

Reo met Nagi and felt an instant connection. Nagi is not only exactly what he’s been looking for as a soccer player to take their high school team to the top, he’s also everything Reo wants in a partner. Someone who can match him in talent, make him think differently about himself and the world, and someone to fight for. All Reo has ever wanted is to be with someone who doesn’t care about his money, his grades- someone who isn’t trying to use him for personal gain. And Nagi is just perfect, he doesn’t need Reo at all, and Reo can’t imagine anything better than that.

You really didn’t want to fall for Reo, he’s every girl’s dream boy. Hot, smart, athletic, and kind (and rich), he checks every box. But literally everyone wants him, he can get anyone he wants, it was so inconvenient when you found yourself falling for him right along with everyone else. But how could you not? When he takes you by the hand to let you sit front and center at his practices and games, when he thanks you for taking such good care of his “treasure” (your best friend Nagi), when he flashes you a gorgeous smile as his eyes sparkle. You feel special every time he talks to you, looks at you, gives you even the slightest bit of attention. You can’t imagine anything better than someone who makes you feel loved like Reo does.

*****

“I have to tell you-”

“I have to tell you something too.” Reo interrupts you, his expression full of urgency yet slightly relieved, assuming he knows exactly what you’re about to tell him.

Truthfully, you decided it’s finally time to confess to him, it’s been long enough. He should at least know, even if he does reject you.

“Okay, you go.” You smile, urging him to go first. Your heart races, hoping he’ll return your feelings before you even have to deal with the embarrassment of confessing.

“I- I really like Nagi.” Reo says confidently. He’s nervous, but he stands tall. He shouldn’t feel so nervous about feelings like this, he always gets what he wants, after all.

“I- you-” You stutter, the thoughts flooding your brain faster than you can think of a proper response. It makes so much sense, Reo’s “treasure”, the way he’s expressed wanting to take care of Nagi, how he’s started showing up to drive him to school, how he always tries to get alone time with him. It’s so obvious, and you’ve been hogging him away from Nagi, selfishly acting on your feelings instead of trying to help Nagi explore his own.

“Oh, you’re surprised? I thought I was being too obvious.” Reo chuckles.

“No! It makes sense! I just- um-” You pause, trying to find a way to get through the conversation without crying.

“She wanted to tell you that she likes you.”

A familiar voice interrupts the conversation, where you turn to see your snowy-haired best friend poking his head into the empty classroom. Clearly, he was looking for the two of you, showing up at perhaps the worst time.

“Nagi! No- I don’t- um, Reo was just saying-” You try to save it, try to make this less embarrassing, but all you can do is fight back tears.

“Yeah, he was saying he likes me. I know he does.” Nagi pulls his bag straps tight against his shoulders, standing up tall for once. It’s easy to forget how damn tall he is when he’s always slouching. “But I know you like him, and I like you, and that’s all a hassle, so I left it alone.” He sighs.

“Wait-” Reo starts, processing the information. “You like her, she likes me, and I like you? Oh boy.” He scratches behind his head. “Is that what you were going to tell me, y/n?”

You only nod, still trying to process that Nagi basically confessed to you just now. How could you not have seen it?

You look at Nagi, who looks at Reo, who looks at you. Suddenly, Nagi looks different to you, he’s honestly beautiful. You can’t imagine your life without him, and watching him discover a recent passion has been an amazing journey. Nagi looks at Reo, seeing someone who’s helped him grow into a new person, a person he’s starting to like much more than his old self. A life with Reo in it sounds amazing. And Reo looks at you, seeing a beautiful girl who has supported him every day, giggling and laughing with him and encouraging him to chase his dreams. You haven’t used him for a single thing, thinking only of his happiness.

The three of you stand in a triangle as you look between each other. And you can’t help but laugh.

“Yeah.” You smile. “I like you too Nagi. And I do like you, Reo.” You shrug.

“I do like you y/n. And of course, Nagi.” Reo smiles.

“I like you y/n. And I think I do like you too, Reo.” Nagi cracks a light smile.

[island-in-the-shadows]

On Felix Catton & Disgust/Desire

I had been waiting for a long while now to write this post. I wanted to do another full re-watch before I got into it because the ideas for this have been sitting in my mind for a long time. This is going to be a long post and, hopefully, not super pretentious. Most of us fans of Saltburn know, to some degree or another, that the core themes of the film revolve around disgust, desire, and obsession. And the biggest entry point to discuss this is the actions of our protagonist, Oliver Quick re the object of his disgust/desire/obsession Felix Catton.

I've written before that I believe that Oliver did know Felix and that Felix was emotionally vulnerable and candid with Oliver. I further stated that we, the audience, are forbidden from knowing the details of this intimacy because Oliver does not want us to truly know Felix. This means that the bits we get of Felix are small and very subtle. It means that we can interpret Felix's core personality, true intent, true desires in a litany of ways. My opinion is, realistically, no more valid than anyone else's. But for today, I wanted to discuss what I view, from the bits that we get, is Felix's relation with the core themes of the film. And, because I saw a truly heinous takes about a different fandom I'm in and I don't want to think about it, my brain said: hey...let's talk about Felix Catton and his disgust and desire.

Pt. 1: "Only rich people can afford to be this filthy."

When Oliver says the above, he and Felix are in Felix's messy and disgusting dorm room at Oxford. When you take a closer look at the room (which I admit was difficult on my first few views because Felix is lit and positioned to take all of your focus), it is a total shit show. There's clothes everywhere, empty containers everywhere, other unidentifiable debris...honestly wouldn't shock me if there was some used condom somewhere. We know from Oliver that, not only does it look like chaos, it smells terrible. However, Felix is unbothered. He is concerned only with the heat which, in this case, is an external force that he cannot control no matter his good looks, his charms, his pedigree, or his money. By what we see, Felix is quite happy and content in the filth. It is only when Oliver points out the filth and points out that Felix won't take care of it, that Felix reacts negatively.

Felix, as we know, is very accustomed to his messes being cleaned up for him. Before we even get to Saltburn it's a safe assumption to make. Prior to college/uni, he would've gone to some posh boarding school or other. I doubt that they were made to clean everything in boarding school (though if any of you know please let me know). We also know that wealthy people tend to have hired staff who clean for them. This is a young man who has never had to clean up his spilled milk and it has never even occurred to him to do it.

However, the important bit to note is not that Felix is messy and that it doesn't occur to him to clean. What's important to note is that the mess simply does not bother him. Just because he is born to extreme wealth and privilege does not mean that he would have to be this way. There's been germaphobe rich people or people who prefer to have a minimalistic space or any number of things. Regardless of wealth, some people are fine with mess and some people require mess to be done away with immediately. Felix is in the former category. He certainly must notice the mess at some point (even if, clearly, he's nosebleed to it) but he is comfortable in his space.

This is also true of his room at Saltburn. We barely see it, I know, but let's take a look at that glossy af pic of it from the Architectural Digest Article...

There is crap EVERYWHERE. The more you look at it the more crap you find. You can't even say that it's perfectly clean either because there's dirty clothes in spots, there's multiple pillows on the ground, there's a random used water glass, there's either toilet paper or paper towels on the night stand, the bed isn't perfectly made, I could go on. Chaos and filth and mess is, technically, Felix's natural habitat. It's the kind of mess that is surrounded by opulence, certainly, but it's still a mess.

Only rich people can afford to be this messy because they can also dictate when and where their staff cleans. Presumably, there are things in Felix's bedroom (perhaps the toilet paper/paper towels which have a...purpose) which he has instructed Duncan to leave alone. Or Elspeth has put terms for how often the maids come in the rooms. It could be framed in a multitude of ways. The point stands that Felix can exist in these chaotic and, even, disgusting spaces because he chooses to be. What his privilege does, then, is afford him absence from judgment.

We see the staff at Saltburn clean up after the party. We see that they quietly replaced a broken mirror before anyone can question the cracks. We never see the staff judge. Do they? Certainly they must, we all have opinions. But do they express their judgement to the masters of the house? No. It's not their place to do so. They are considered staff and therefore their opinions do not come into play for the Cattons nor would they want to hear them. Even Duncan's genuine unease and grief after Felix dies is mostly kept under control. He's not paid to express his emotions or his thoughts, after all.

And why go into all of this? Because Felix is content to live in the mess, to revel in the gross and in some version of the abject. What Felix cannot handle is being confronted with his pleasure. To me, this (along with wanting to separate Oliver from staff when the younger boy starts actively cleaning) is the main reason why he snaps when Oliver points out the disgusting state of the dorm. He does not need or want to know how he fits outside a specific role that he was born to play and, likely, believes he has to play. Even if it didn't occur to him to clean, he could've used his wealth and influence to find someone to clean for him. But he didn't. Because it doesn't bother him. Oliver being bothered and pointing out that Felix is so wealthy that he can live in the filth is what bothers him, instead.

Pt. 2 "Was it? Was it awful?"

I am going to keep this section short, because there have been much better posts about this and I, personally, go back and forth on this all the time. Regardless, Felix having an interest in a made up fantasy of a shitty childhood and what he can, likely, envision as some Dickensian nightmare of a situation falls into his relation to disgust and desire. What Felix knows of true poverty and addiction likely comes from media or exaggerated stories from people who have been in contact with someone who was an addict or something to that extent. His imagination must be running wild with theories. And while I do think that he did have good intentions regarding Oliver when it comes to this, his demeanour also shows an attraction to the grotty aspects of it. Oliver only ever calls him out on this, to a degree, in the maze. Before this, Felix can be interested in what he imagines is the horror of Oliver's childhood but not be caught out as being a tragedy whore or someone with a saviour complex or anything else, because his interest is not being pointed out. Again, he has an interest or desire for mess and chaos as long as it is not pointed out.

Pt. 3 "You're supposed to be here with me."

Let's, briefly, talk about queerness. Let's talk about how Felix has an image to maintain. How he has expectations put upon him. Yes, he has privilege and wealth beyond understanding, but these things often have a tradeoff. Celebrities, for example, have to forfeit a lot of their privacy. Royalty and nobility (regardless of country) often forfeit chunks of their privacy and the possibility of living outside of a script (publicly, at any rate). Felix CANNOT go off script.

He is implied to be the heir to Saltburn and everything that comes with it: money, land, title, expectations. Like in the days of old, it's probably expected of him to produce an heir. It's also expected of him to marry a lady from his class in order to produce said heir. And, back in 2006/7, people were less acceptating of LGBTQ+ people that they are now, and Same-Sex marriage was not a thing in the UK and it wouldn't be for another 7 or so years. So Farleigh, who will inherit nothing and only ever be given scraps, can embrace his queerness; Felix cannot.

Personally, I believe that Felix did have some sort of interest in Oliver. It's not just in the fact that he is possessive of Oliver to the point of disregarding his family. It's in all the Bambi eyed looks that we see Felix give Oliver. You could argue that these are exaggerations from Oliver but then, how do you explain the POV shots we get of Felix looking at Oliver? How they are also romance coded, lustful, pinky and fluffy? There is something there. To what extent there was something is pure conjecture. But, I personally believe that he had some kind of feelings for Oliver but could not express those feelings and, to an extent, found his feelings for Oliver disgusting.

Even if his mother is, in her way, tolerant of queer people, this does not mean that she would be ok with Felix being with a man. I doubt his father, who is in his 60s at the time, would be any happier about it. Again, Felix needs to have an heir and take over Saltburn. So, at most, they would've tolerated that Felix had a "friend" tucked away somewhere that Felix could go to every so often. Queerness is not the desired outcome and so, at some point, Felix would've had to separate any feelings from the matter. And, hypothetically, in boarding school any hand jobs etc. from other boys would be viewed as part of a norm that exists within the realm of "no homo."

So, given he has been emotionally intimate with Oliver and, given that he has felt more for Oliver than he probably thinks he should, he feels disgust as much as he feels desire. He can, and personally I think does, want Oliver, but feels disgusted by his feelings and has a strong desire to keep them channeled in the "appropriate" way. Just the same, he gets jealous and he does not want to share. He cannot abide by Oliver being free to pursue another partner (guarantee he would be equally as incensed if he had found out about Farleigh and it probably would've slightly registered had Oliver actually slept with Indabel). It's specifically a slap in the face that it's Venetia who has done this kind of thing before and who is allowed to be physical with these friends of Felix's with whom Felix does not feel he could or should be physically intimate. Thus, the possession and the jealousy and the spurned wife behaviour of it all.

Pt. 4 "You make my fucking blood run cold."

Bref, I think Felix had good intentions but poor thinking skills when he wanted to take Oliver to his parents' house. Multiple posts have discussed this bit and I do think he wanted to further trauma bond with Oliver the way they further trauma bonded when Oliver's dad "died", afterwards, per the script, they were "closer than ever." And then they had that intimate moment on the bridge and spent some time there completely alone instead of being at a giant party. I think he thought that the experience would bring them closer and that he would be there to, in his way, protect Oliver. And I still think this plays in to all the little ways in which Felix desires disgust and is disgusted by his desires. But he does it anyway.

The betrayal of trust and intimacy that follows has to feel like a bomb has gone off in Felix's mind. But what's worse for him, again this is solely my opinion, is that he still desires Oliver regardless. It might not have fully formed in his head and he then dulled it with drugs and alcohol and with his shoddy attempt at fucking Indabel in the maze, but possibly the inkling of why Oliver lied the way he did had entered his brain. Oliver already tried to explain. Told Felix in the hallway when they got back that he wanted to be Felix's friend. And Felix likely relived his entire relationship with Oliver including what Oliver just told him. And, to me, Felix was not entirely opposed to it. He didn't immediately kick out Oliver or cause too much of a fuss. He wanted space. He wanted to not think about it for a while. But Oliver forced his hand.

Again, here we have a Felix who is disgusted by his desire. A Felix who, deep down, knows that he likes that Oliver lied. That he likes that Oliver desires him so much that he would do anything for him. Likes that, despite NEVER wanting anyone to know the most debauched parts of him, Oliver is close to knowing all of his darkest parts and loving him for them just the same. But a Felix who, nonetheless, does not allow himself to revel in the filth once it's pointed out.

And Oliver points it out. In a big way. "Everyone puts on a show for Felix! [...] doesn't this just prove how much of a good friend I actually am? How well I actually know you!" He does know him. Felix knows this. Felix CANNOT go off script. Felix cannot acknowledge his love for things that are disgusting or less than savoury. So too he cannot allow them or acknowledge them here. And then we have something in the script vs. how Jacob actually looked that's what inspired me to write this overly long post in the first fucking place.

This is not the exact beat. Because this is after Felix says his line about his blood running cold. The vibe is the same, though. Regardless...is THAT the fact of disgust? Because to me, that is not disgust. That is some form of desire that most mortals will never experience. But then...it also IS disgust. Because the two are intertwined for him. Because he desires because of the disgust at the situation and at the lengths of debasement Oliver will go to to please him. He is a boy who loves mess and chaos and who makes his home there. And, to whatever extent, his heart could've made a home in the mess and chaos and filth that Oliver brought to the table. Even if Felix has to be disgusted at his desires and prevent them. Even if Oliver took any option or opportunity away from Felix.

Oliver makes his blood run cold, but Felix never said that was a bad thing. And it isn't. Just as Oliver revels in the filth of bodies and their fluids and the inferred possession that comes with them, so too Felix revels in the filth of places and things he shouldn't want and things he can only truly savour in the shadows where no one points them out.

TL;DR Felix is as much of a freak as Oliver is, though in a different way. He is shown to be comfortable and even like messy and gross things but, he only does so when it's not pointed out. He can be, to a point, physically close and emotionally intimate with Oliver and, even partially overlook a betrayal of this intimacy, but only if it's never pointed out. Only if it doesn't break with the expectations and social script on which he has been raised and to which he has to stick. He serves to demonstrate the relationship with disgust and desire as much as Oliver does, but his relation is more subtle and harder to see. And maybe, just maybe, given time, he would've at least bent the script.

--------------------------------------0--------------------------------------

Super sorry for how long this is, I just needed to get it out! Thanks to @ollieapologist for being my biggest cheerleader about this post. Sorry if this is incoherent!

[minustwofingers]

exoplanet part 7

pairing: ellie williams x fem!reader (she/her pronouns used)

series masterlist (read parts 1-6 here!)

summary: you’ve won the life lottery as one of the few people on earth with parents who gained admittance to the most prestigous safezone in the world after the outbreak. but after a lab accident sends you out to jackson, wyoming, real life hits you fast. it’s a good thing that a hot lesbian finds u. (lol). mean ellie at first, slowburn, enemies to friends to lovers, fem reader asf

warnings: stuck up awful rich people. mentions of: abortion (sowwy ** i can't write kids), homophobia, throwing up, general awful elitism, heavy drinking, implied minor character death, and we talk about stuff like unethical labor practices/basically slave labor. depictions of: violence, guns.

a/n: hey yall....sorry for taking literal months to write this. and sorry in advance for what you're about to read, since this is admittedly a little far removed from tlou. and i'm also sorry if this isn't what you guys are expecting—i know i made you wait a long time for this, so it was tough for me to finally get around to posting because i didn't want to disappoint anyone. also it was just sooo sad writing the last scene because i just didn't want it to end!! anywayyyy enjoy

wc: 14.6k (i know...i know...)

tags: @intrnetdoll @dazedshoon @lovecaraya @pctcr @sariyaflowr @loser-keiji @prettyplant0 @666findgod @sawaagyapong @rystarkov @buzzybuzzsposts @addisonnie @galacticstxrdust @elliesbabygirl​ @pinkazelma @ariianelle @lu002 @blairfox04 @sparkleswonderland @elliesflower @muthafuckingstargirl @elliewilliamsissubermommyoml @eviestevie-14 @quicksilversg1rl @guacala @crtcrp @overtrred28 @sugarqueencosmos @iriswalrus @chiao1209 @lovecaraya @thatgiraffefromtlou @alwayslongingforyou @thelastofshimmer

May 16th, 2029

Welcome to AskAI! Enter your questions below and I'll try my best to answer :) 

How does Cordyceps spread?

Ophiocordyceps unilateralis is mostly commonly spread between humans by the medium of bodily fluids, though this was not always the case. In the early stages of the outbreak, most carriers were infected by the presence of Ophiocordyceps unilateralis spores in flour from a Jakartan mill. It is still unclear how the contamination occurred. 

Is saliva included in bodily fluids that carry Cordyceps?

Yes, Ophiocordyceps unilateralis can be spread through human saliva. Other bodily fluids include blood, feces, mucus, and semen.

So if someone were to kiss someone infected with Cordyceps, would that person be infected too?

Yes, because Ophiocordyceps unilateralis can be spread through human saliva. 

How long would it take before seeing symptoms?

If Ophiocordyceps unilateralis spores were to be introduced to an individual via mouth-to-mouth transmission, the approximate incubation window has been recorded to be no longer than 8 hours.

How long would it take to be detected by a standard testing device?

Our testers would detect the presence of Ophiocordyceps unilateralis within an hour after exposure. Note that this only refers to the conditions outside of Terranova. There has never been a detected case of Ophiocordyceps unilateralis in Terranova’s history. 

Thank you.

You’re welcome! Please leave feedback on the AskAI Feedback Form if you have any ideas as to how I can improve <3

One year later

“And there’s no way we can skip?” 

“You know the rules.”

Dina rolled her eyes and sighed as you two stood at the door of your parents’ penthouse, waiting to knock. “Maybe if you went and I said that I was sick or something.”

“They’d know you were lying.”

“They’d probably be happy if I missed dinner.” 

“I don’t know if happy is something they can be,” you said. You tried to make it light and joking, but it came out with the heaviness of truth. “Plus, they’re not exactly thrilled with me either.”

“Not exactly thrilled” was the understatement of the century. Ever since you’d come home with a pregnant outsider toting a gun and covered in dirt, your parents had convinced themselves that you’d somehow become corrupted over your time living outside. 

But Dina had it way worse. Your parents were so scandalized by her rugged ways and the fact that she’d gotten pregnant out of wedlock that they’d nearly fainted upon realizing you were advocating for her Terranovan citizenship. 

You both had had the good fortune of avoiding any further tense interactions with them for the last few months, but that morning you’d awoken to an email that contained an invitation to their home for dinner. It was noted that Dina had to attend.

So here you two were. Dressed in uncomfortable, stiff clothes and nervously twiddling your thumbs. 

“You’re going to be fine,” you promised Dina. It sounded like a lie. “I’ll do most of the talking, okay?”

“If you say so.” 

You rang the doorbell.

It took just a few moments before the door swung open.

“Hi Chris!” you greeted, plastering a smile on your face. 

Your family housekeeper smiled back with a neutral warmth. She looked slightly thinner than you remembered when you saw her last just a few months ago. “Hello. Miss Dina, please remember to keep your shoes on this time.” 

Dina flushed bright red. The last time she’d come over for dinner, she’d taken her shoes off and had been given a very stern lecture by your mother about how improper stockinged feet were for dinner. “Of course not, ma’am.” 

You sent her an apologetic look and stepped inside.

“Your parents are in the sitting room,” Chris told you as she took your coats. 

You thanked her.

“Why don’t they ever come up to greet us themselves?” Dina whispered to you. 

You shrugged. “No clue. They just never have. They probably don’t want to have to take a break from whatever stimulating conversation they’re having about the country club happenings.”

She snorted. All of a sudden, you were overwhelmed by a sense of gratitude for Dina and her spirit. After your family had essentially decided you were hopeless, family get-togethers had become torture. Dina was your lifeline.

As Chris had said, your parents were found lounging in the sitting room, your mother fanning herself with one hand and holding what looked to be a gin and tonic in the other, your father sitting across from her in a tastefully worn armchair. 

“Girls,” your mother greeted. Her eyes looked flinty and flat. “How good of you to come. I was worried you’d lost your way.”

It was a classic Y/L/N insult for latecomers, but it was barely a minute past 6:30. 

“The elevator wasn’t working,” you offered. “We had to take the stairs.”

“Hm. Well, come and sit. Petra can get you a drink.” 

A tall girl who couldn’t have been much younger than you was standing at the other end of the room next to the bar. She had bright ginger hair that stood out starkly against the neutral beige of her uniform and a small, squatty nose. You’d never seen her before in your life. 

“Is she new?” you asked.

“Who, Petra? Oh, I think so. It must’ve been…oh, I’m not sure. This March, I believe? What do you think, darling?”

“Around then.” The solid ice globe slid against the glass with a clink as your father answered, taking a long pull of his bourbon after. 

“It’s nice to meet you,” said Dina politely.

Your mother let out a labored sigh. “Dear, I’m very glad to see you working on manners, but there’s no need to engage with the help.”

Dina didn’t answer, instead sending you a meaningful look. 

“Well, not usually,” she continued. “Though it is appropriate to interact with them in matters that are considered strictly business. Take, for example, the fact that neither of you have managed to order a drink yet. Petra, come.”

You stared at your hands, folded tightly in your lap. If there was anything you hated more than your parents, it was how they treated the help. And, though you’d never say it out loud, you didn’t understand how two middle aged adults needed more than one full-time housekeeper on hand. Chris made sense. Petra was entirely unnecessary. 

“We really don’t need anything,” you said to Petra when she was in front of you, looking rather pale. “But thank you.” 

The tension in the air refused to dissipate, not even when you were relocated to the dining room and had the crutch of picking away at the three courses served to you. 

Dina, having been thoroughly scolded by your mother the last time she dined with her, was clinical in choosing which utensil to use for each course. 

Your mother babbled on and on about the country club and the book club. Your father occasionally butted in with a few dull, lifeless comments. There was something especially dead in his appearance, like he was running on zero sleep.

“You may be curious as to why I asked you two here today,” your mother said after the main course plates had been cleared. “First of all, I wanted to extend my congratulations to my daughter for graduating in just a few days.” 

“Thank you,” you said stiffly. 

“And more importantly—” 

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes.

“—I wanted to announce that your father will finally be retiring,” she said. “He’s been working so hard for the last few years. Isn’t this wonderful?”

“That’s really great, Father,” you said, feigning a smile to hide your confusion. You hadn’t known that your father had even worked, much less hard enough to warrant a formal retirement. 

“Thanks, dove,” he said.

“When’s your last day?” you pried, wondering if you could manage any more information out of him. 

“This Friday.”

“Hm.” So much for that. You exchanged glances with Dina as Petra reappeared with a tray of small goblets filled with colorful globes of sorbet. 

“You’ll both be expected to be in attendance at his retirement party,” Mother added. She was frowning deeper now. 

“Even me?” said Dina.

“Yes.” She smiled tightly. “And please note that they’re unaware that we helped you through your…little problem. I can’t imagine why that would ever come up in conversation, but I would really prefer it didn’t.”

“Uh huh,” responded Dina, her eyes wide. 

When Dina had arrived, your family had given her two options—have her child and give it up for adoption, or terminate the pregnancy then and there in secret. Refusing to comply would lead to your parents being entirely unwilling to sponsor her citizenship as it was far too unseemly to be an unmarried mother. Though it was clear your parents thought she was devastated by the prospect, she’d confided in you later that she hadn’t realized that that had been an option for her. She’d taken the second option without a second thought, telling you that she didn’t feel ready to be a mother. 

The unfortunate part of it all was that your parents held this over her head on occasion, using it as leverage to make Dina feel like she owed them. Hence why she never felt entirely comfortable with telling them off. 

That your parents had kept the abortion a secret was hardly a surprise. Abortion was one of those issues that no one liked to talk about. Though it wasn’t the hardest procedure to get, it was never publicly discussed. You’d never personally known of anyone who had gotten one before, but the clinic had been so full when you’d attended with Dina nearly a year ago that you were beginning to second guess that fact. 

“Anyway,” said your mother lightly, “Darling, have you heard anything from the Thompsons recently?” 

“Oh, no. I haven’t seen Richard in quite some time.”

“It’s funny you say that. Melanie was supposed to host the Garden Club party last week, and you’ll never believe what happened.”

“What, honey?” Your father stared dully at the tablecloth, entirely unengaged. 

“When I stopped by, the rest of the girls were already there,” your mother said. “Just sitting out in front of her building looking very confused. I walked right up and asked what was going on—you know, now that I’m co-president, I need to keep things in order—”

“Yes, honey.”

“—And Angie tells me that they’ve been ringing her for ten minutes and she hasn't answered. I decided to give her a call, and straight to voicemail. So we all sat out there until it started raining. We never even got an apology text.” 

“Oh,” said your father, looking a little more engaged. “Is that really?”

“Yes,” your mother said. The attention made her sit up straighter. “It absolutely was. It was incredibly inappropriate. I couldn’t believe it. And to think that she stole that hosting spot from me…”

“Do you know if she’s alright?” your father asked,

She shrugged. “I should hope not. That’s the only excuse she could have for what happened.”

“Hm.” Your father moved the melting sorbet around without clinking his spoon to the crystal. “It seems that quite a few of us have been dropping off the face of the Earth.”

“It must be because of the long winter,” you said diplomatically. “Too much darkness makes us all a little loony.”

Your mother raised a brow and hummed in assent. “I suppose so.”

“Is that why groceries are so expensive now?” you asked. It had become a new development. About 6 months after you and Dina had returned, the prices on the shelves had rocketed upwards.

“Something like that,” your father said vaguely. 

“What does that mean?”

“Y/N,” your mother warned.

“It’s alright, dear,” your father said, waving his hand. “It’s really nothing interesting. Supplying this city has always had its challenges. This year just happens to be especially hard.”

“What kind of challenges?” pried Dina.

“Shipments are always difficult to orchestrate,” he said. “As is quality control. It’s nothing that we haven’t seen before. Prices will go back to usual within a few months. The pendulum always has to swing back.”

It was a saying he always used—the pendulum analogy.

Dessert wrapped up quickly. Your mother gave you the official date for your father’s retirement party and ironed out your graduation details, and before you knew it you and Dina were off into the night. 

“Thank fucking god that’s over,” said Dina as you two trotted down the street to the metro. 

“Tell me about it.” You zipped up your jacket to ward off the slight chill in the evening air. “I’m really sorry you had to deal with all of that. I appreciate you coming with me. I know they’re awful to you.”

“Well, they’ll be worse if I don’t go,” she responded, her eyes cloudy for a second. She was right. One misstep and they could have her citizenship and their financial sponsorship rescinded. 

“True,” you conceded. 

The metro was bustling with people as you and Dina hopped on to the yellow line that would take you to the university residences. It was modeled right after the Parisian metros, with its Art Nouveau signs and themed stops.  There was only standing room, so you two clutched onto the stainless steel poles in the middle. 

The doors made a groaning sound and a speaker crackled as the announcer came on.

“Doors closing. Please stand clear of the exits. This is an express train with service to University Park. Other stops include 25th Street and North Village. There will be no evening service to Rotingham.” 

You and Dina seemed to come to an unspoken agreement to remain silent and process the hell that had been dinner with your parents as the train lurched forward into motion. You closed your eyes and would’ve rested your head against the handrail had it not been so gross. 

The only fortunate thing about your parents was the fact that they were incredibly easy to get to, despite living on the other side of the city from the university. What would’ve normally taken 40 minutes with transfers was cut down to 15 with the use of an express train that ran right from the station outside of your apartment. 

You had resolved to just sit in silence when the train came to a screeching halt. 

Your eyes shot open, meeting Dina’s confused gaze. 

The lights above flickered, then sputtered out to leave you in darkness. 

There was a hushed silence amongst everyone in your train car. 

“What’s going on?” Dina whispered to you. 

“This happens sometimes,” you said quietly back, but it was sort of a lie. It wasn’t entirely uncommon for the lights to go out, but you’d never had it happen in tandem with a train stopping on the tracks before reaching a station. And especially not an express train…

The lights flickered on again, and there was a shared sense of relief as a few of the train’s occupants let out a shaky laugh. 

“Thought we were going to have to walk!” said a ruddy looking old man sitting across from you. The car responded with polite chuckles. 

“Apologies for the delay,” came a voice over the loudspeaker—a human voice, not an automated one. “There was a disturbance on the tracks that had to be dealt with. We apologize for any inconvenience this may have caused. Service will continue as usual.”

The train lurched back into movement, the dark walls of the tunnel moving past in a blur.

“That was weird,” Dina remarked once you two had gotten to your stop and were walking up to ground level.

“Yeah,” you said, frowning. “I didn’t want to tell you then because I didn’t want to freak you out, but normally express trains never stop, especially not at this time of night with less trains in service.”

“What qualifies as a disturbance on the tracks?”

“I have no clue,” you confessed. The sun was hovering just barely over the horizon, its last rays of light reflecting aggressively off of the skyscrapers in the distance from which you came. “Someone probably dropped something big like a suitcase onto the tracks and blocked the way. It happens.” 

You were purposefully avoiding the elephant in the room—that it had probably been a person on the tracks. It wasn’t especially common—not nearly as common as you heard it was in places like New York before the outbreak—but it happened on occasion. Terranova wasn’t the best place for everyone.

“The Thompsons are Simon’s family, right?” Dina asked you. She had to raise her voice to be heard over the cheerful chatter of fellow university students socializing and drinking on the green next to the sidewalk.

“Yeah,” you said. You and Dina had occasionally hung out with Simon since returning. You noticed that Simon had really taken a liking to Dina, but neglected to mention it since his parents were actively attempting to arrange a marriage between him and some girl in the Art History program at your school. “Have you talked to him at all? I haven’t heard from him for a week or so.”

“Me neither.” Dina tightened the dark braid that fell over her shoulder as she walked, looking rather troubled. “I didn’t realize his parents were missing.”

“They’re probably fine,” you said. “I seriously wouldn’t worry about it. There’s nothing here that could hurt them.”

“You’re right,” she said. “I just forget that there’s no infected here sometimes. Like, tonight, I thought I was gonna have to start swinging on someone in the train when the power cut.” 

“God, same.” You shivered. “It’s weird to know that we don’t have to worry about that anymore. But I think it’ll get easier with time.”

“Yeah,” said Dina, but she didn’t sound convinced. “Well, I’m going to text Simon and see if he’s alright. Or maybe call him. I’m sure he’ll know what happened.” 

“Let me know what he says.” You’d ascended the steps up to your shared apartment and were slotting the key into the keyhole. “By the way, did I ever formally invite you to my graduation?”

“Not that I recall.” Dina followed you in and kicked her shoes off.

“Well, consider this your formal invitation,” you said, turning to grin at her. “It’s this Saturday. Be there or be square.”

“Will there be free food?”

“And anything you want to drink,” you told her, though you weren’t entirely sure of that fact. You’d only ever been to one graduation in your life, and that had been years before it was socially acceptable for you to drink anything beyond the odd glass of watered down wine—but you recalled a memory of particularly free-flowing champagne flutes being passed around. 

“Consider me sold.” 

~

You had to be going crazy. There was no way. 

You entered the numbers back into the graphing software again. Then again. Then one more time, just to be sure you were seeing what you were seeing. 

“Everything going alright over there?” asked old Professor Gunther, looking up from his grading and his steaming cup of tea. 

“Um—” You blinked, hard, then looked back down at your calculations. “Professor, can you look at these for me? I think I must’ve made a mistake.”

“Of course, my dear.” He graciously accepted the notepad full of barely legible numbers that you came up to hand to him and adjusted the glasses on his face so he could squint more efficiently. “And what is this exactly?”

“I’ve been parsing through the data on that star—that K star you’d been watching for a while—and, um, I’ve noticed something.” Your voice shook nearly as much as your hand as you pointed to the scribbled numbers. “Can you, uh, graph these? And put them into a different program than StarBlast? And look at the spectra? It’s giving me what I think is—actually, I don’t know. You do it and I’ll show you what I got.” 

“I’m confused about what you could have possibly done wrong,” he said, though he was already opening his own laptop and starting up a different program that you hadn’t used before because of how much you hated the GUI. “Did you try to parse it by hand to check?”

“Yes,” you said. “Horrible idea. Took me forever.” 

“And you got the same result?”

“Yeah.”

“Hm.” He took off his glasses to wipe them off, then began typing in the data you’d emailed to him earlier for bookkeeping purposes. “Let me see what I have.” 

The agonizing few minutes it took for him to enter him already had your mind spiraling with possibilities as the implications sunk in. If you were right—if this was right—everything was going to change in your field. 

The spectra graph roared to life.

“Jesus Christ,” you heard your professor say. “Is this—”

“I think so,” you said. “I think so.”

What you two were looking at held more than one piece of crucial information. The first was nothing but basic calculations of a Doppler Shift that detected that there was a planet. Your calculations estimated its size at roughly the same as the Earth, with a similar orbital period and distance from its star that placed it in the habitable zone.

That wasn’t anything earth-shattering. There were plenty of Earth-sized planets in the habitable zone, implying that if the conditions were right, there was an environment conducive to organic life. 

What was, however, were the spectra emissions that you were staring at, slack-jawed and skin prickling. 

“Methane,” you whispered. “And oxygen. And phosphine.” 

And not just a little—enough that it suggested biological processes that could only occur with the presence of life.

“I think you should finish writing this report,” Professor Gunther finally said. 

You froze. “What?” 

He turned to you, his glasses sliding down his bulbous nose and a kind smile on his face. “I’ve made enough discoveries in my life. This one is yours to claim.” 

You were overcome with so much gratitude that you launched yourself at him, throwing your arms around his neck and hugging him tightly.

Gunther good-naturedly patted your back with the enthusiasm of a grandfather being pestered by his grandchildren. “This is your moment. Take it.” 

“Thank you,” you said, pulling back with tears welling up in your eyes. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.” 

He smiled again. “It’s truly my pleasure. I feel lucky to have had a student like you.” 

“If you don’t stop, I’m going to start crying.”

“We can’t have that,” he said, standing up and handing you back your sheet of calculations. “You have work to do.”

You settled back into your work across from him, nearly buzzing with excitement as you finished typing up your findings. It would be a long process for the study to actually be published—long, painful, and undoubtedly draining—but it would be so worth it. You’d be the one who discovered a planet that (most likely) harbored life. For the first time in history. 

Though you wouldn’t be publishing a paper any time soon, you still had to log the planet into the “global” (not exactly global given that there was no other place on Earth with the same technology as Terranova) database. And with that meant giving it a name.

In that moment, it was like time froze as the cursor blinked in the box. There was nothing but the blood rushing in your head, the dull hum of the fluorescent lights above, and the slight stickiness of the leather desk chair beneath you. 

You gulped. It was standard in the department to name planets after the astronomer that discovered them. You’d never had a planet named after you before. You’d only ever crunched numbers that Gunther had given to you to analyze spectra emissions. This was the first time you’d ever actually discovered something that hadn’t already been logged before it had landed on your desk.

And yet…

You closed your eyes. Suddenly you were back in the meadow at Jackson, tracing the wisps of the Milky Way with your finger as you and Ellie talked about the constellations. You saw the childish excitement on her normally stern features when she held the moon rock for the first time. You saw the wonder in her eyes when you told her a new space fact that she’d never heard before. That she’d never had the opportunity to learn before. 

Your fingers moved before you could stop them, quickly tapping out the name “Ellie” into the box and hitting the enter button. 

For the rest of the day, you regretted it. You tried not to think of her anymore. It was something that you’d promised yourself you wouldn’t do after you spent the entirety of last summer miserable and doing nothing but turning over the memories in your mind until Dina made you do something with her. 

It was difficult. You wanted to put it in the past, because you couldn’t think about her without thinking about how she probably wasn’t even alive anymore. Which didn’t make any sense. Nothing ever made any sense about Ellie. Even before you predicted she’d been bitten, she’d already been behaving erratically—not packing her things, not saying a real goodbye to Joel, catching more food than their small group of three could possibly need near the end. It was like she knew that she wouldn’t be able to go.

Which didn’t make any sense, because why go all that way knowing that it was for nothing?

Which made you think about how bizarre she was before leaving. How sad she seemed when she told you that she was going, like even then she knew that it wouldn’t happen. 

And you hadn’t gotten sick from her, even though you should have. She’d kissed you long after she would’ve been bitten. And you knew from your frantic research upon arriving that you should have tested positive when Simon checked. 

So why hadn’t you? And why had she?

It was things like this that could keep you up for days if you weren’t careful. It was awful, but sometimes you liked to believe that she had really been sick and had died shortly after. You had a vision of her killing herself before fully turning, and even though it hurt to imagine it, it was the most humane end of them all. If she was dead, then maybe there was an afterlife, and maybe a piece of her was watching over you. Maybe she was still with you. Maybe she finally was able to rest. 

You hoped that little piece of her had seen her name the first planet with life after her.

A tiny smile crept across your face, but inside you felt devastated. You were going to mourn her again all day, like you always did when something reminded you of her. And you were probably going to dream of her, of her stupid grin and the way her hair felt when it tickled your face. 

Pull it together you thought glumly. You had to be normal for your father’s retirement party that night, and you had just under 4 hours to do so. 

~

“Ugh,” you said, staring at your phone as you stood with Dina near the door, both of you dolled up and ready to go to the party.

“That’s how I feel too,” said Dina. “I’m going to kill myself if anyone brings up anything about how hard my childhood must’ve been and how I’m doing such a good job adjusting one more time.”

“Ha,” you said. “Mom just texted me to tell me that we need to stop by theirs first.”

“Why? Aren’t they already at the venue?”

“Yeah,” you responded, wrinkling your nose. “But apparently she forgot her gift for him—some vintage Rolex she got restored for him.”

“A vintage what?”

“Stupidly overpriced wristwatch,” you explained. 

It took less time than usual to get to their building. Despite it being at peak busy hour, the platforms seemed eerily empty.

“Is there some holiday going on?” Dina asked, sitting across from you so that you both had your own row of seats. 

“Oh, I’m such an idiot,” you said, clapping your forehead with your hand. “Of course there is. That’s why my father held his retirement party today. It’s the first day of this festival that goes all week.”

“What’s it for?”

“I honestly don’t know the background,” you admitted. “Most people just use it as an excuse to get incredibly drunk. I think it has something to do with the founding. It’s, like, the only time that public intoxication is okay.” 

“Damn,” said Dina thoughtfully. 

“The trains will probably fill up on our way back,” you said, sighing. “Hopefully it won’t be too bad. Worst comes to worst we can walk.”

“It gets that bad?” 

“There’s hardly standing room,” you said, recalling the last festival you’d been around for—the summer before you’d been catapulted to Jackson. “And it just reeks of drunk people. And you have to be really careful, because I hear the custodial staff has to work overtime to clean up all the vomit.” 

“Gross,” said Dina. “And here I was thinking that it was just all being proper and mannerly.”

“Everyone has their limits,” you said lightly.

The penthouse felt just as oppressive as when you came for dinners, like you were walking into the lair of a dragon who was coming back at any moment. Chris was gone—likely participating in the festival herself—but you were surprised to see the figure of Petra bent in a corner as you entered, dusting the top shelf of their bookcase.

You and Dina politely greeted her before ascending the steps to your father’s office.

“Why did your Mom put it in here?” Dina asked as you began shuffling through papers to find the box that your mother had described over text.

“My father doesn’t work in here all too often,” you said, opening a few drawers and seeing no trace of the green and gold box. “He just uses it to file away things.” 

“What does he do?” 

“I actually have no clue,” you confessed. “He doesn’t talk about it, and I don’t ask.” 

“Do you want to see if we can find out?” Dina asked with a conspiratorial raise of her eyebrow as she motioned towards the filing cabinets. “Just a quick look. They’ll never know that we were here.”

You took a moment to consider. If Chris had answered the door to let you two in, you would’ve told her that you couldn’t, because she would definitely snitch if she knew. But she was nowhere to be seen, and Petra looked like she was busy enough downstairs. 

“Sure. Why not.” 

The first few cabinets held nothing interesting—just spending reports and copies of contracts that were written in legalese. 

“It looks like he works with whoever supplies this place,” remarked Dina as you two skimmed the papers and saw records of contacts all over the continent, from the old continental US and South America, each detailing something boring about shipping dates and inventory. 

But then came the third cabinet, with papers dated back before you were born with what looked like sketches of barren looking buildings and hand-scrawled notes. 

“What are these?” you breathed, laying them out on the ground. 

“I think…” Dina squinted. “I think that these might be manufacturing plants?” 

“Oh?” You dug further around in the cabinet to see if you could find any further illuminating evidence. 

“Yeah,” said Dina, staring as she began to flip through the pages already on the floor. “Holy shit, dude. This is…sort of messed up. Look at how small these living quarters are.”

You peered over her shoulder to see the architectural sketches of what looked to be more of what you imagined a prison to be. There were long bunks stacked on top of each other in what looked to be a never ending line, the mattresses barely even large enough to be considered twins. 

Someone cleared their throat behind you, and you nearly leapt.

“I hope I’m not interrupting,” said Petra. Her voice was low and raspy. You noted that it was the first time she’d ever spoken.

“Oh, uh—” You began to frantically gather the papers, hoping she hadn’t seen. Would she tell your parents? “Sorry if we disturbed your work. My parents, uh, they asked us to get something from—”

“It’s fine,” she interrupted, holding up a hand. “I won’t say anything.”

“Thank you.” You stared up at her steely green eyes, wondering what had compelled her to approach you and Dina. “Um, is there anything we can do to help you?”

“Don’t drink the bourbon,” she said, so quickly that it seemed to fluster her. 

“What? Why?”

“Just don’t do it,” she said again. “Better yet, don’t drink anything except for the water.”  

“I’m sorry,” you said, feeling genuinely apologetic. “I’m not sure if I understand.”

Something crossed over Dina’s face, and suddenly something in her seemed to shift. Her features paled. She knew something you didn’t.

“I came from one of those places,” Petra said, motioning to the diagrams that you were staring at. “They’re not—they’re not somewhere you want to be. We all try our best to come here. That’s what they tell us, you know. Do well enough and you’ll get sent to where everyone gets to live a life of grandeur and luxury. But they barely send anyone, and when they do, they get shitty positions like this.” 

Your breath caught in your throat as your understanding slowly grew. Of course. How had you been so stupid to think that wealthy people were ever going to have any of their kind work any real job? 

“You two were the ones who came from outside, right?” Petra continued. When you two nodded, she crouched next to you. “And you were wondering what was going on with the prices?”

You nodded again, awestruck.

“Your Dad’s little spiel on it being about bad weather is bullshit,” she said, her words hard. “People are getting tired of this. They’re realizing they’re never getting out. You know what it’s like out there—it’s scary. It’s tiring. So many people get sick, so many die. So when people finally caught onto the fact that the work they’re doing is nothing but dressed up slavery and that their chances of getting out are basically zero, they start doing things to mess with the system.”

“Like contaminating the products?” Even as she said it, it seemed like Dina already knew the answer. 

Petra just gave you two a long look. 

“So that’s what he meant by quality control,” you said, the realization hitting you. 

“Among other things.” 

“How long do you think we have?” asked Dina.

“Not very long at all.” 

“You guys can’t be serious,” you said, nervous laughter catching in your chest. “Do you seriously mean that Terranova isn’t going to be around for much longer? Is that what you’re saying?”

Petra shrugged and stood up. “Believe whatever you want. But from where I stand, it looks like there’s only two possible ways out of this situation. That is, unless you guys all become farmers.”

“I don’t think I’m following,” you said.

“Two options,” Petra said, sighing heavily. “Either we starve or we don’t. And the latter means taking a really big fucking chance on what we bring in.”

“But the system has worked for so long,” you said, more to yourself than anyone else. 

“Too long,” she amended. “It was never sustainable. Maybe if you people had been okay with just eating native plants and wildlife. Maybe if you people were okay with changing your way of life. But no, you just had to have your fucking oranges from Florida and your coffee from South America.” 

“Don’t lump me into this,” said Dina. “I just got here.” 

Petra laughed, but it was a hard and sharp sound. “Well, chances are you won’t be here for long.”

“Hang on,” you said. “We’re still doing quality control inspections. The most likely scenario is that we’re going to have to cut down on imports—not that we’re about to go up in flames any minute.”

“I hope you’re right about that,” she said in that voice that told you that she thought that you definitely weren’t and didn’t see the point in arguing further. “Anyways, I’ve got to finish working so I can get home before dark. Be careful, okay?” 

“You too,” you said. “And thanks for…not saying anything.”

It was a bit presumptuous considering that Petra hadn’t really given you any good reason beyond her word that she wouldn’t mention you lurking in your father’s cabinets, so you and Dina were thorough in carefully placing each file back into the correct place, just in case. 

“Do you really think what she said is true?” you asked once you and Dina had located the watch and were on the metro once again.

Dina shrugged. “I mean, it makes sense.”

“Does it?”

“Look,” said Dina. “I know that this might be hard for you to hear, but I’m pretty sure this place lives off of what’s basically slave labor. If there’s any humanity left in the world, I would like to think that Terranova would eventually fall.” 

You swallowed hard, then blinked. For a moment you thought you were going to throw up. “I never knew. I didn’t realize.”

“Of course you didn’t.” Dina’s voice was surprisingly patient. “You were a kid. But you’re not anymore, so it’s time to grow up and face the music.”

“I don’t know what to do.”

“I don’t either.” 

The two of you fell into a silence as the train sped past empty platforms bathed in shadows and you thought and thought and thought. 

There was just too much happening today. First Gunther’s lab, then Ellie, now your entire worldview toppling. 

As the train windows continued to blur the background of the tunnels and empty stations, your mind spun with reflections of your childhood—of you enjoying simple luxuries that you didn’t realize came at the expense of others. That you didn’t even think to ask about. You’d mindlessly trudged along, eating your exotic fruits and drinking your expensive tea and wearing clothes built from indulgent fabrics just because you could. Even when Dina had asked where the oranges came from all the way back in Jackson, you hadn’t let yourself wonder. You hadn’t let yourself consider the possibility that it was anything less than the sanitized fairyland that you’d been brought up in—perhaps because you knew all along. 

And that made it even worse.

Dina seemed to understand, sending you a few glances without prodding. 

“Do you think we need to leave?” you asked, your voice just barely a whisper.

“Us leaving isn’t going to do anything,” Dina said, like she’d been expecting it. “And how would we even do that? It’s not like we can just charter a helicopter again to drop us off back in Jackson.” 

Something twisted inside of you. “Oh, God. You’re right. We couldn’t even leave if we tried.”

And you might have to try, a sinister voice inside you whispered. What if Petra was right about the contaminated products? What if they missed something when checking imports?

You’d never been taught how quickly the fungus spread in the original outbreak, and you knew little about the normal amount of time it would take any sort of disease to infect the entire population. But you did know how densely populated everything was. How reliant everything was on a few strictly maintained channels, like public transportation. 

It wouldn’t be hard for it to all come crashing down, really. It would just take the right place at the right time and—

“Don’t freak out, Y/N.” Dina laid a hand on your shoulder. “We’ll figure something out if it comes to that.” 

You smiled at her, grateful that you didn’t even have to put your words into thoughts. “But if we can’t leave, what do we do? It’s not like we can just sit by and do nothing.”

Dina pulled her bottom lip under her teeth, worrying it before answering. “I don’t really think that we have a choice. Right now, at least. I don’t know if there’s anything that just the two of us can do.”

“I’ll find more,” you said. “I’ll talk to my professors—my friends at university—Simon—”

“Do you think that we’re the only two that know about this?” asked Dina. “Because I really don’t. Maybe your friends don’t. But anyone in the military and anyone who was around when this was founded has got to know. They just don’t care enough.”

Something slowly iced over inside of you as the implications sunk in. 

Gunther had probably known. No, scratch that—he definitely did. He was an academic who had been in his 30s when the world fell apart. Any adult would have asked the same questions that Dina had upon arrival. 

“We’ll figure something out, I’m sure,” said Dina firmly. “Okay? Don’t worry.” 

“Speaking of Simon,” you said, narrowing your eyes, “Did you ever get in touch with him? Is his family okay?” 

“Oh, yeah.” said Dina. “He texted me back a bit ago. Said something about how he was just busy and that his family had been camping up in the mountains.” 

You two faded into silence. 

The retirement party came and went without much trouble. On the outside, at least. You were a mental wreck, barely able to keep it together as near strangers came up to you and expressed how much bigger you were since they’d seen you a decade and a half ago. 

You noted with muted suspicion that Simon’s parents were nowhere to be seen amongst the crowd, not even by the lavishly decorated bar. 

~

That night, you did dream of Ellie. It wasn’t the usual. Ellie wasn’t turning in front of you or bleeding or crying out in pain with a bite mark on her arm. She wasn’t yelling at you for failing her and letting her get bitten without even noticing. No; instead, she lay beside you in your meadow spot and talked to you.

And somehow that was so much worse.

“I named a planet after you,” you said, feeling hot tears pool at the seams of your eyes that you squeezed together to avoid sobbing. You knew you were dreaming. You always knew you were dreaming—seeing Ellie always seemed to prompt a degree of lucidity that was otherwise missing in your sleep. 

“That’s really fucking sappy of you.”

“I miss you.” It came out like a compulsion, like you couldn’t stop it. “Are you here? Are you with me?”

“Y/N,” Ellie said, turning to look at you. The darkness made it difficult to see her whole face, but you could see the look of pity on her features in the gray-blue of the moonlight. “Of course I’m not here. Don’t be stupid. I’m dead.”

“Sometimes I wonder if you’re not. Like, if something happened.”

“Something did happen. I died.” 

“Fuck you.”

She smiled sadly, and for a moment you thought her eyes looked more reflective than usual. “It’s not very helpful to think that way. And what can I tell you? I’m not even real.”

“I’d like you to try,” you whispered.

“Fine.” She sat up, pulling her legs into a lazy tangle as she looked at you. “What did you seriously expect, dude? You were never going to stay. I wasn’t going to go. If I hadn’t been bitten, I’m sure I would’ve orchestrated some way to get out of it. My family is back in Jackson. I liked you just fine, but you’re not my family. That shit’s deeper. Different.” 

You opened your mouth, then closed it, then opened it again. The sharp pain in your chest faded into a cold sense of familiarity. Then, because she wasn’t real and there was no reason to feel embarrassed about bearing your emotions: 

“You feel more like family than anyone here.” 

“Then that sounds like a you problem,” said Ellie, flatly. “I’m not gonna let you guilt trip me like this. Boo fucking hoo, you grew up richer than everyone else on Earth and had to deal with strict parents. Do you realize what actual, real problems are? What about the people who make your lifestyle possible, huh? What about them?”

“I didn’t know.”

“Then you’re fucking stupid.” 

The tears were streaming freely down your face now. “I would do anything to be back with you. I wanted to stay. I miss you so much. I don’t know what to do with myself without you.”

“And I’m sorry you have to deal with that.” 

“Will you just say that you miss me too? You don’t have to mean it. I just want—I just want to hear it.” 

“I can’t miss you. I’m not around anymore.” 

Ellie watched as you curled in on yourself and sobbed so hard you thought you were going to be sick. 

“You’re so weak,” she said after a few minutes. There was no venom in her tone. It was as if she was merely relaying something as inconsequential as the weather to you. “All you do is expect other people to care for you.” 

Not real. Not real. Not real you repeated to yourself in your mind with growing franticness. 

She wasn’t real. None of this was real. Ellie was never that affectionate with you, but this was another level. This was something personal. 

“You said that being weak isn’t bad.”

“And you said that you were going to make sure I was going to get to Terranova.”

 “And it’s not my fault that you decided to go gallivanting alone in the woods.”

“You could’ve tried harder.”

“I did as much as I could.”

“Sure you did.” 

You bolted awake. The hair at the nape of your neck was wet with the slick of sweat. For a moment, you let yourself catch your breath, reorient yourself in your surroundings. 

Your room. You were in your dorm room, with your space posters and your books. Ellie hadn’t been here. She hadn’t said that. You were okay.

A blaring noise jarred you as you realized that your alarm had made you wake up. Your alarm, because it was graduation day and you needed to be ready for a full day of festivities. 

“Fuck,” you muttered, scrubbing your face with you hands. The last thing you wanted to do after this was have to see your parents and pretend like you like them for appearances. 

She's gone. She's gone. She's gone you repeated in your head like a mantra. It was over. You shouldn’t have named that stupid planet after her, because she was gone and she always would be.

It would only be a matter of time until your parents would start asking you about your dating life, you realized as you brushed your teeth over the shiny white basin of your sink, the minty bubbles making your lips tingle. They’d been willing to entertain your reasoning of wanting to focus on your studies while you were at university, but you knew they’d been looking for prospective engagements behind your back.

It took you longer than usual to get ready, your mind wandering as you lingered in different corners of your apartment. You kept the lights off, opting to let the cool, gray daylight from the gloomy clouds wash the surfaces of your room. 

“Hey,” said Dina, appearing from her own room and leaning against the doorframe. 

“Good morning,” you greeted blandly, your attention on the necklace that just wouldn’t clasp around your neck.

“Looking spiffy,” she said. “By the way, did Simon say anything to you?” 

“No.” You paused and turned to her, a frown on her face. As far as you were concerned, you really had no reason to be in contact with Simon beyond the general pleasantries. 

“He just called me,” said Dina. “He seemed—I dunno. Like, weirdly frantic. He was saying that we need to stop by his.” 

“His” was inconveniently on the opposite side of the city, even further past your parents’ place. 

“Why? Pretty far for a short jaunt.” 

“He was really insistent,” pressed Dina. Her long black curls were unruly, her skin sallow in a way you hadn’t seen in a while. She hadn’t been sleeping as well recently, it seemed, just like you since you’d spoken to Petra. “Maybe we should just stop by.” 

“Did he say anything about why?”

“I tried to ask,” said Dina, frowning. “But the call dropped.”

“I hate how horrible service is in your room,” you said. 

“Me too. Anyway, are we gonna see him?” 

You shrugged. “I guess. We have some time. I’ll text him too just to see what’s going on.” 

Dina was ready in just a few minutes, pulling a light blue sweatshirt over her shirt and stepping into her shoes. 

“You look soooo cute,” she said, pinching your cheeks. “My little grad.”

You rolled your eyes, but the size of your smile ruined it. 

For once in your life, you noticed that the university green outside of your apartment was suspiciously empty. 

“Quiet,” Dina noted as you made your way to the metro. “It’s eerie.” 

“People were probably partying all night,” you said. “Celebrating graduation and whatnot. I imagine everyone’s sleeping off a hangover instead of having to get up at the crack of dawn to voyage across the city.”

Dina held up her hands. “Gee. Sorry.” 

The train was a little more populated. Some older Terranovans had newspapers cracked as they licked their fingers to turn the page. The silent hum of the train lulled you into another soliloquy as the tunnel plunged you into darkness.

You had to stop thinking about Ellie. You needed to move on, as awful as it was. You’d named a planet after her. She’d be forever remembered in the stars, and that should be enough. You didn’t need to keep dragging her memory behind you like a corpse, because she was dead and she was never coming back and she was—

On the platform?

Your mouth dropped as the doors of the train slowly rolled open to reveal a short girl with shoulder length auburn hair slowly ambling towards the platform. She was wearing a pale green short sleeve that had some sort of edgy spatter pattern on it—something that was very Ellie-esque. But something wasn’t…

It took you one breath to notice that neither of her bare arms had any tattoos. It took you another to see that what you had initially assumed to be a pattern was actually blood-soaked fabric formed from red rivelets that trickled from a wound on her neck.

“Holy fuck,” you whispered, grabbing Dina’s hand. “Do you see—”

“Everybody run!” Dina screamed, leaping up from the train seat and dragging you with her as she bolted off the train and to the opposite exit. 

The girl wailed and barrelled towards the train car, her eyes locking onto the nervous movement of the passengers. You froze. It was slowly becoming obvious that this wasn’t Ellie, from the slightly different set of her eyes to the unfamiliar button nose. But it was hard to not feel anything but sympathy for the monster before you. She was just a girl, probably younger than you. 

“Fucking go, Y/N,” Dina snapped, yanking you harder and onto the platform just as Not-Ellie leapt onto one of the newspaper readers. “It’s not her.” 

She didn’t need to tell you twice. In seconds you two had sprinted to the mouth of the stairs, feet pummeling against the pavement as the sounds of the carnage unfolding behind you followed. 

You ran. You didn’t stop running, not even when the screams faded and you and Dina were blocks and blocks away, hidden in an alley. Not even when your lungs were so empty and sore that they felt like they were breaths away from breaking, not even when you were sure there was nothing left inside you.

Dina kept your pace, blindly following your lead as you darted in between streets and side alleys until you reached your parents’ apartment. 

“Do you think there’s more?” you managed to whisper through heaving voices once you stood on the steps. 

You and Dina hadn’t ran into anyone after the metro, undead or alive. 

“Not here,” hissed Dina. “Inside first. Then we evaluate after we’re safer.” 

For a moment, the phantom dread from your normal life spilled over and you were afraid of facing your parents. It was almost laughable—there were deranged infected hosts looking to eat your flesh roaming the streets, and you were worried about seeing your parents. 

“I’d almost prefer out here, too,” said Dina, looking as if she’d read your mind. 

The apartment complex was also empty and eerily quiet as you two ascended the steps. Dina had insisted that you took the stairs, pointing out that the elevator was far too risky. 

“It might get stuck,” she’d whispered as she’d pulled you away from pressing the button. “Also—unnecessary noise.” 

You nodded wordlessly, following her up the steps until you reached the top floor.

Still no one to be seen.

The spare key was still hidden under the flower pot, and the penthouse door swung open easily. You and Dina locked it behind you before dragging a small bookcase in front of it, piling on books until no one could physically break through. 

“Sweep the apartment,” Dina said lowly, reaching over to grab the fireplace poker that was in the entryway. “Behind me until you get a weapon.” 

For a few tense moments, you cowered behind Dina as she navigated you both into the dark, empty kitchen. Every breath that left your lips was shaky and uneven. Your fingers trembled around the handle of the butcher’s knife that you’d retrieved from the block. 

Nothing was on the first floor. 

Nothing on the second floor, either. There was no sign of your parents anywhere. By all accounts, it seemed that they’d just up and left for coffee. Which is probably what they’d done, given that your father had just retired and had nothing better to do. 

“Fucking thank god,” you’d cried out once you’d swept the last room, collapsing onto the sitting room sofa. “Jesus Christ, Dina. What the fuck. I can’t believe I just—”

The words petered out as the adrenaline rush that had been keeping you at least someone composed dissipated, leaving you a shaking and inconsolable mess. 

“We’re so lucky that we got out in time,” said Dina, her eyes blurry and unfocused.

You took a break from your crying to look at her. “What?”

“The doors close automatically,” she said flatly. “No motion sensor. If that girl had shown up any later—if we hadn’t noticed her in time—”

“We would’ve been stuck on the train with her,” you said, cold realization trickling into you. “Oh my god. That probably happened to the people on the train who weren’t quick enough.”

“Or didn’t know any better,” Dina added. “Didn’t you say that no one here really understands what the infection is? That it makes people hosts?” 

Your heart dropped. “We’re so fucked. We need to get out.” 

“Have a plane anywhere?”

“Oh, god, Simon,” you wailed. “He was probably—he must’ve known—his parents must have—”

“Let’s not dwell,” said Dina firmly, brushing her hands off on her pants. “Okay. Let’s take inventory of the situation. That girl likely wasn’t patient zero. Wherever she came from was around…8th street?” 

You nodded.

“Right. 8th street, which is where the majority of non-student residential living spaces are. Chances are that if it wasn’t already, it’s all over that area. We came south, which is away from the most densely populated area and probably why we haven’t seen anyone else. We’re up high with what seems to be currently running water, no current activity in the building, and plenty of both perishable and nonperishable food. 

“But this isn’t permanent. The power grid is going to fail soon, and plumbing is likely going to go next. And if we somehow make it long enough, any infected in the building are going to turn into clickers, and they’ll stop at nothing to get in. Our window is limited. If we wait to get out, they’re going to get stronger and grow in numbers. We need to play this right.”

“So what you’re saying is that if there’s any possible chance of escape,” you said, feeling the blood drain from your face, “That we need to take it.”

Dina nodded, her face hard. 

“How long do you think we have until we have to make that choice?” 

She winced. “Probably 2 hours ago. There’s likely enough infected scattered around the city after the metro incident that it’s all over now.”

Your stomach dropped. 

“But that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try,” said Dina. “It’s only going to get worse the longer we wait. So if that big fancy scientist brain of yours has any genius plans of how to get us out, please hurry it up and say so.” 

“Well,” you said, your mouth dry as you brainstormed aloud, “We are at the southern tip of the city. We’re probably not all that far from the border. The problem would be getting across—and, of course, getting there in the first place. It’s designed to be deceptive so that raiders can’t find it.” 

“We’re not going to cross the border,” said Dina. “We’re never getting across on foot unless it’s been destroyed. Simon told me about how it works. There’s quite literally zero chance unless we start tunneling underground.” 

“So no crossing on foot,” you said weakly. “Noted. Well. Uh. Can you fly a plane?”

“Depends. Do you have one?” 

You buried your face in your hands. 

“Come on, Y/N. Think. There has to be another option.” 

Another option. Another option. Think, think, think…

Scientist brain. Science. 

Like your degree. Like the lab you’d been working in last year. Like the ill-fated experiment that you’d scrapped after the university cut funding for it after your accident.

Like the time that you’d actually succeeded in inventing teleportation, even if it was accidental.

Like the contraption that was likely gathering dust in an unlocked lab room just a few blocks away. 

“Dina,” you said, “I’ve got it. But I need you to get me to Gunther’s lab.” 

The only good thing about today was the fact that Gunther’s lab, which was normally an inconvenient train ride away from your apartment, was in fact within perfectly reasonable walking distance from your parents’. 

There were many bad things, though. Namely the infected now roaming the streets. And the plumes of smoke rising in the distance, suggesting that the Terranovan authorities were attempting to quell the issue the old-fashioned way. 

With two knives and a pistol in your hand (you’d never been more happy to see something actually useful in your father’s antique collection), you were at least feeling more prepared to slowly creep back down the staircase of the building and out onto the streets. 

For the first two blocks, everything remained uneventful. You and Dina stuck close to the shadows, being careful not to speak, make any noise, or bump into anything noisy. 

Then a girl that looked somewhat familiar to you came stumbling around the corner, cloudy orange saliva dripping from her ashen lips. She locked onto you and began to excitedly chitter, her jerky movements becoming more pointed as she started approaching. 

“Knife,” Dina whispered, flicking your arm once she saw you raise your pistol. “Too loud.” 

It was your first kill without the help of a bullet. As the blade slid across the throat of the girl, you realized where you recognized her from—she’d been one of the students you’d tutored back in high school. You’d always liked her. Her name had been Liesel, and she was one of your best pupils. She’d been so bright. You thought she’d end up skipping senior year and just coming with you to college. 

Not anymore. You tried not to think too hard about the look you’d seen in her eyes right as you severed her carotid artery—something human, something cognisant. You couldn’t cope with what that implied. 

Did Ellie look like that? No, surely not. It’d been over a year. She was likely a clicker by now, her freckled face entirely swallowed by the spore shards. But was she still in there, like Liesel had been?

The next ones were easier—random men whose eyes remained flat and flinty even as you sent them to their ends. By the time you and Dina had broken into Gunther’s lab, you were splattered in blood and assorted mystery fluids. 

The sterile building was empty and deathly silent. Each step on the tiled floor echoed, the fluorescent lighting painfully bright. 

“Are there any workers in here usually?” Dina asked, her voice low. 

“Rarely,” you whispered back. “It’s normally totally empty beside me or Gunther.”

“I hope you’re right.” 

A long screeching that sounded like it came from a few doors down made you freeze.

“Let’s move,” Dina said under her breath. “I don’t want to find out who that is.” 

Gunther’s lab was nearly just as you remembered it. The only difference was the missing files on his desk, which suggested that he’d taken his work home with him. 

As you’d hoped, the prototype you’d developed in your third year was under a white sheet, almost entirely untouched. 

“This is what sent you to Jackson?” Dina whispered in wonder, her fingers hovering over the wires but not daring to touch.

In actuality, it was a very small contraption, just transistors and gates and wires that crossed over each other like veins. It had been intended for use on laboratory rats. It’d never been sized to people. But if this was your only shot…

“I can’t remember exactly what Gunther and I did to—”

Scratchhhhhh.

Your blood ran cold. Something was outside the door. 

“I’ll cover it,” said Dina, her voice firm. Don’t worry.”

And you wouldn’t—not when there was one zombie against you and Dina, armed to the teeth.

“Uh, anyway—” You blinked as you stared down at the mess of wires. “Technically what happened was it short-circuit—”

Scratch scratch scratch

You gulped. “Um, like I was saying, it short—”

Scratchscratchscratchscratch

To punctuate the point, the door creaked and shifted. 

Dina pressed her finger to her lips as she slowly crept over to the door, standing on her toes to look through the thin strip of plexiglass that ran across the top of the door. 

For a moment, you thought that she’d frozen. Then she quietly stepped over to the desk, snatched the pen Gunther had lying around, and scribbled something onto it. She handed it to you, her finger still posed over her lips. 

7 of them. All big. I think they followed us from the street.

Just as you finished reading it, the doorknob began to turn, back and forth and back and forth against the lock. 

Dina pulled the note from your fingers to scribble something else out. 

Don't say anything. Noise will send them into a feeding frenzy. Door won't hold long. Do whatever you need to fix it and get us out.

You nodded, your heart crawling in your throat. If you couldn’t figure out how to fix this in time…Gunther’s lab was on the 6th floor. 

There were only 3 bullets in the pistol—you’d checked. And a kitchen knife was fine when you were out on the street facing one infected at a time, but 7 in an enclosed space was different.

You probably weren’t going to get out of here alive. 

Not unless you pulled it together right now. 

You pinched the bridge of your nose as you tried to run through all possible ways to recreate the conditions that had sent you to Jackson. You needed that special iridescent wire, which you could see shoved into the corner. You needed a power source. You needed a working circuit board. 

You had all of it. You could do this. 

SIlently, you retrieved the spool of wire and began reattaching it to the board in the pattern you vaguely recalled from your work. 

The lights flickered above, and it was all you could do to keep yourself from swearing out loud. 

The power needed to hold. It needed to hold for just one more minute, just for a moment while you finished configuring the—

Your hand knocked the spool to the floor.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

The thudding started slower but crescendoed into the sound of groaning wood as the infected outside began to pound at the door. 

Dina waved a slip of paper in front of you with wide eyes that said Hurry the FUCK up!. 

You sent her a desperate look back. Your hands were shaking so hard that it was a miracle you were even able to feed the end of the wire through the pliers to snap off the end. You dug your nails into the protective sleeve at the end to expose the tip of the wire.

The door held just until you plugged the wire into the input. 

As it hummed to life, sputtering and sparking and shimmering in the air, the lights flickered once, then plunged you into darkness as the sound of wood splintering came from the door. 

Someone—it was probably you—screamed as a crowd came barrelling through the door, all hunched shoulders and gaping maws. 

Then you grabbed the hand of Dina and felt yourself tumble into nothingness. 

~

The sky was clear and bluebell blue above you when you came to, your back pressed uncomfortably against the sun-warmed earth. Every part of you ached like you’d just been run over, just like it had that day one year ago that started it all.

You didn’t need to look around to confirm—you were certain of where you were. You just knew it. 

A groaning sound made you shoot up, clutching at the pistol in your hand. 

Dina was sprawled on the ground next to you, rubbing her forehead with her hands. 

“We did it,” you said, astonished. “We actually did it. We got out.” 

“And you launched us out to Jackson.” Dina was sitting up now, looking around with wide eyes. “Jesus Christ. Are those things coming with us?”

“I don’t think so,” you said blandly. Your hands were still shaking, just as they had in the lab moments before. 

The backpack you’d packed with supplies lay strewn on the ground, covered in the dust of the clearing. 

“Are we—”

“I think so,” you said. “Funny how it sent us to the same place it sent me. I guess we’ll never figure out how, though.”

“Yeah.”

A comfortable silence fell over the two of you as you acclimated to the bright Wyoming sun, the warmth of the air against your skin.

Your heart lurched as the implications sunk in. Now that you couldn’t pretend like Jackson had been some sort of distant memory, you were going to mourn Ellie all over again whether you liked it or not. 

“It’s going to be weird without her.” Dina was apparently on the same page. 

You choked back the sob that came up, rubbing your eyes angrily. You would not cry right now, not when you had more important things to attend to. 

“She really did love you, you know,” Dina continued, also apparently oblivious to the fact that you were just barely holding it together. “Even if she never said it. I’ve never seen her like that around anyone. I hope you haven’t been beating yourself up over what happened.”

You sent her a tight smile. It was odd, talking about Ellie like this with her. You’d never had before. It was one of those topics that you both knew to just avoid. “I just hope Joel is alright. I can’t imagine how difficult that would be—losing two daughters just like tha—”

A twig snapping in the woods sent you into silence, your hand drifting back down to your pistol as you spun around.

For a moment, all you could hear was the breath that hitched in both your and Dina’s throat. Then a girl with short brown hair burst through the tree line, her gun set on you. 

“Ellie?” you gasped. 

She fell still, mouth agape and eyebrows nearly touching her hairline.

“Ellie, what the fuck?” said Dina, recovering much quicker than you. “What are you doing here?”

“What am I—” Ellie dropped her pistol so it pointed to the ground, staring at Dina incredulously. “What are you doing here?” Then she rounded on you. “What did you do? You promised to stay in Terranova.” 

You couldn’t answer. You were just so starstruck that all you could was stare, taking in everything about her. She was certainly Ellie—with her stupid little flashlight on her backpack strap and her fern tattoo and the perpetual grumpiness etched on her face. It was strange to think that you could have mistaken anyone else for her.

“Well?” she pressed, stepping closer, her mouth in a hard line. 

“Terranova fell. It’s gone. I did what I had to do to get us out.” The words came out quietly. Then, without thinking: “You’re alive.” 

“Long story,” said Ellie. “I think the scanner was defective.” 

“That sounds like a pretty short story.”

She stared at you with an expression of such odd devastation that you felt your heart drop.

Dina jumped to her feet and launched herself at Ellie, throwing her arms around her neck and laughing hysterically. “I can’t believe it. I just—I just—you’re alive. I’m so glad you’re alive.” 

Ellie, for her part, stood mostly still, awkwardly patting Dina on the back until she was released. “I’m glad you are, too.”

You tried not to feel jealous, but it was hard not to. Dina could jump into Ellie’s arms and tell her nice things like that without having to think twice because they’d always been friends. You did, because you weren’t sure if Ellie would want that anymore. 

You didn’t try to touch her as she walked you and Dina back. She followed suit, not even trying to speak to you. 

By the time you were walking through the walls of Jackson and waving to the gaping passerbys who were shocked at your return, you felt like you were going to be sick. 

Ellie was alive. She’d never been dead, and you’d left her out here while you and Dina got to eat fancy Brazilian chocolates and Floridian oranges and artisanal bread. You’d been actively trying to forget her instead of trying to find her.

And now she was here, next to you. And she didn’t seem even remotely interested in you. But could you blame her? It had been a year. You’d left her to come back to Jackson all by herself. She didn’t have any reason to wait around for you. She’d probably found someone else. Or gotten back together with Cat.

And who were you to think that she’d even be interested in you if there wasn’t the guaranteed casualness from a definite end date? 

“Well, I’ll be damned.” Joel appeared on the front porch as you and Dina approached with Ellie flanking you, his eyes wide. 

“Joel!” you cried out, your angst briefly forgotten. 

His eyes darted between the three of you, his face awash with shock. “Did ya just get sick of living there or something?”

You looked down and surveyed your outfit. You were clearly wearing something that was intended to be formal—a flowing graduation dress—but you were splattered with blood and viscous mystery substances and covered in a healthy layer of dirt. You’d clearly gone through some shit. 

You were struggling to come up with a response other than “hey” when you were reminded of something you’d shoved into your bag while you’d been preparing to leave your parents’ penthouse. 

Feeling smug that you’d managed to remember, you reached into your pack and fished around until you found what you were looking for.

“We just figured you’d be almost out of this by now,” you said dryly. The value-sized bag of coffee beans dangled from your fingers, its maroon packaging catching in the sun. 

His face split into a wide grin as he shook his head in disbelief. “Well, butter my butt and call me a biscuit. I guess I’ve got to tell Tommy that we don’t have to ration anymore. C’mon, let’s get you settled.”

~

Joel insisted that you move back into your old room instead of the vacant cottage down the street, which was equal parts touching and equal parts terrifying. Ellie lingered by the doorway as you unpacked, disappearing down the hall when you finally lifted your head from your few belongings to say something to her. 

You let out a long, labored exhale, dropping onto your bed and curling your knees up to your chest. You’d since changed and showered the dirt and blood off, shed your tattered graduation dress and left it gathered in the corner like a snake’s molt. The setting sun filtered through the curtains, turning the walls golden. 

You didn’t know what to do. That you could even come back to Jackson had been a thought you hadn’t dared to consider until this morning, when there were no other options. That Ellie was still alive—well, you hadn’t had any time to strategize or plan for that one. You were still reeling from seeing her for the first time in a year, all summer freckles and flyaway hairs escaping from a loose hairband.

She’d looked even better than you’d remembered. There were certain parts of her that you realized you’d forgotten—like the scar on her eyebrow, the way her voice sounded. It made you feel nauseous, knowing that despite your best efforts, you hadn’t been able to keep the real Ellie alive in your head. 

You’d already eaten something with Tommy and Maria, who had been insistent on hearing from you and Dina about the events in Terranova. Joel had left you to your own devices with instructions to see him tomorrow to figure out work after you’d had a decent rest, so there was really no reason to go roaming around hoping to run into Ellie. 

But you really wanted to. You checked the clock again, seeing that it was already past 9. Dusk had already fallen upon Jackson, the setting sun now just a suggestion of a golden line on the horizon.

You had a feeling you knew where she was. 

The meadow was just as lush and green as you remembered as your feet carried you across the grass. It seemed that really nothing had changed—except for the horses in the distance, where you could see a small foal beside a chestnut mare that you were pretty sure was Shimmer. 

“Hi,” you said, settling down next to Ellie’s spot under the tree. 

If she was surprised to see you, she didn’t show it. She just sighed and fiddled with the sleeve of her shirt. 

“Hi.” 

“I’m sorry for bothering you,” you said, keeping your eyes locked on the darkening sky. “I just wanted to come find you to tell you that I understand if you don’t—want me like that anymore. I’ll leave you alone if you want me to.” 

Even when she took her time responding, you didn’t dare look her way. 

“Is that what you want?” You couldn’t quite decipher the tone she’d used. 

“Obviously not,” you said mildly. “I would never want that.” 

“I wouldn’t either.” 

Your breath caught in your throat, your gaze dropping to meet hers. You were just about to speak when—

“The scanner wasn’t defective,” said Ellie. Her voice was soft, her own eyes falling to look at her tattooed arm. 

“Of course it was,” you said, feeling very confused as to why she was suddenly detouring into something so unrelated. “If it wasn’t, you’d be dead already.” 

“I’ve been bitten twice.”

You blinked, sure you’d heard her incorrectly. “Sorry?” 

“I’ve been bitten twice,” said Ellie again, this time with more conviction. “That’s why the scanner came back red. There was nothing wrong with it.” 

“Then how…” Your words trailed off. 

She didn’t let you ponder long. “I’m immune.” 

Immune. 

You closed your mouth—it’d been hanging open unceremoniously for a moment—and tried to fit this very startling fact in with everything else you knew about her. What did being immune mean? And why was she telling you now?

“You knew from the start that you couldn’t come with me to Terranova,” you realized aloud. 

Ellie was gnawing at her bottom look as she looked back at you. You noted that she didn’t offer up any corrections. 

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” You couldn’t hide the hurt in your voice. “Why did you lie to me like that?” 

“I found out that I was immune when I was back in Boston,” Ellie said, the words spilling out of her. “I was in this abandoned mall with my best friend—Riley. She told me she was leaving to be a Firefly, and I begged her to stay and kissed her and for a moment I was so sure that something was going to change between us—something for the better. But then…” She waved her tattooed arm in front of her. “We both got bit. I survived. She, obviously, did not.”

Something deep inside you twisted as you tried to imagine how traumatizing that must’ve been for someone that couldn’t have been older than 14. 

“And so I thought that maybe, you were my chance to right what I’ve done wrong,” continued Ellie. Even though she wasn’t looking at you anymore, you could see the reflective sheen of tears in her eyes. “I’ve gotten to live while so many other people have died. I just can’t handle another. It’s not fair of me to keep someone here when there’s somewhere safer for them. It’s selfish, and I’ve been that enough.”

It was as if you’d found the last puzzle piece for the jigsaw of Ellie Williams. All this time, you’d been struggling in your attempts to understand why she was pushing you away—and why she changed her mind so suddenly. 

Now you got it. Ellie had come into this knowing that she’d likely never see you again. She’d been betting on it, even. It was all some convoluted way for her to set things right in her head, for her to forgive herself for Riley and whoever else she’d lost. 

“You could have told me,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “I would have understood.” 

Ellie sent you a sad smile, shaking her head. “I’m not supposed to tell anyone that I’m immune. It’s one of those things that only Joel and Maria and Tommy know about. No one else. They’d fucking kill me if they found out you knew.” 

“I’m really sorry.” The fabric of her t-shirt was soft under your fingers as you rested a hand on her shoulder. 

“I’m really sorry for how much of an asshole I was to you,” said Ellie. You didn’t miss the way her eyes had widened when you’d reached out to touch her. “I didn’t want to be that way. I always wanted more. I just couldn’t handle having that, knowing that you were going to leave anyway. I thought it’d be easier for the both of us if you thought I was awful.”

“Didn’t work very well.”

“Clearly.”

“I forgive you,” you said, moving your hand so you could thread your fingers into the loose strands that she hadn’t pulled into that baby bun she always wore. 

Instead of kissing you like you thought she might, she threw her arms around you and crushed herself against you, burying her face into your neck.

You held her there, feeling the way her frame trembled under the weight of a sob and tracing patterns across her back. 

“I missed you,” you whispered, your chin rested atop her shoulder. “I thought about you every day.”

Ellie clung to you harder as you shifted.

“I’m really sorry,” she said again, muffled against your neck. “I’m sorry for everything.” 

“I’m not.” You finally pulled away so that she had to look you in the eyes. Under the soft bath of moonlight, her green eyes glowed. “Terranova shouldn’t have existed in the first place. I’m glad that I got out. And I’m even more glad that it brought me back to you.” 

Her hand found yours, your fingers tangling.

“I used to spend all my free time wondering what you were doing up North,” said Ellie. You felt her thumb brush across the top of your hand. “I thought that maybe if I imagined you happy, it’d be easier.”

“What did you think I was doing?” 

The corner of her mouth quirked up. “Lots of studying, I assumed. And going to fancy events for rich people, eating all that expensive shit that the rest of the world can’t have.” 

“Not far off,” you admitted. “But you missed how much time I’d spend wondering about you. I dreamt about you all the time. Sometimes I’d see people who looked similar to you and it’d ruin my whole day. I couldn’t believe that you were gone. I think that deep down I knew that you weren’t.” 

She squeezed your hand. When you looked down at where you were touching, you noted how there wasn’t such a stark difference between you and her anymore. The doll fresh-out-of-the-box skin had disappeared in favor of scars and marks collected from your time in the real world. 

“I really thought you’d be safe there,” said Ellie. 

“You don’t need to worry about me like that anymore,” you told her, cupping her face with your free hand. Her eyelids fluttered half-closed as she leaned into the contact. “You’ve done enough. You can care about me without taking responsibility for everything bad that ever happens to me. You deserve to have something good without suffering because of it. I promise I’m not going anywhere.” 

“Not anymore,” she agreed. 

When you kissed her, it felt like coming home. There was something so achingly familiar in the slope of her neck, the slight chapped-ness of her lips, the almost silent click of her jaw as her mouth parted with a gasp as your hands twisted in her hair. 

You weren’t quite sure how you managed a year without it. 

The skin of her neck was just as soft as you remembered against your lips, her response just as reactive. 

“What’s this?” you asked, pulling away to point at what looked like a small tattoo on the side of her neck. You hadn’t noticed it before—her hair had been covering it. 

“Oh.” Ellie looked sheepish. “My free birthday tattoo from Cat. It’s the moon.” 

“I see that,” you murmured, brushing her hair back more intentionally to get a better look at it. “Why that phase?” 

“It’s the phase it would’ve been on the day we met,” said Ellie. She was bright red now. “Don’t fucking laugh. I know that it’s stupid. Shut up. Stop!” 

You desperately tried to stop your giggles, schooling your face into something straight and no-nonsense. 

“I spent so long wondering if you even liked me,” you told her. “And now you’ve gone and gotten a tattoo dedicated to me. I feel so validated.” 

Ellie rolled her eyes. 

“I have you beat, though,” you said, quieter now. 

She looked back at you, her brows furrowed. “Huh?” 

“When it comes to grand, stupid gestures,” you explained, your finger pointing up to the sky in the general area that you’d collected your data from. “There’s a planet named Ellie up there now.” 

Her jaw dropped for just a moment. “You’re kidding.” 

“No.” Now you were feeling slightly self-conscious. 

“You would do something like that,” Ellie muttered, more to herself than anything. “A whole fucking planet.” 

You let her drape an arm around you, pulling you into her until your head fit into the space between her shoulder and her chin. 

“So,” Ellie said, and you could feel the words vibrate in her diaphragm, “What now?” 

“What do you mean, what now?” 

“I mean, what are you gonna do now that you’re stuck here with me for the foreseeable future?” 

“Enjoy being stuck with you,” you said. “Maybe get a matching tattoo. Give you the piece of the meteorite I nabbed from the display case in my lab. But mostly spend my time bothering you.”

When she didn’t answer, you shifted so you could look up at her. She was already looking back, her eyes soft and the corners of her lips pulling into two dimples. 

“Is that alright with you?’ you ventured.

Her arm tightened around you, fingers gently pressing into the flesh of your forearm like she still couldn’t quite believe you were there. 

“You can be so fucking stupid sometimes,” she said. “I get a tattoo for you and you’re still asking if I want you around.” 

“It’s been known for you to make rash decisions,” you offered dryly. “I didn’t want to jump to any assumptions.”

 She rolled her eyes, still smiling down at you, eyes awash with the reflections of the stars above. 

Slowly, you reached up and touched her face again, letting your fingers relearn her features, tracing the paths created by freckles—just like you had in her bed all those months ago. 

But unlike last time, she didn’t stop you. She didn’t do anything except let you. There was something in her demeanor, something that was fragile and vulnerable and everything that you wanted her to be with you.

“Is this going to be enough for you?” she asked suddenly, her voice raw. 

“What do you mean?” Your fingers paused and rested at her cheekbones.

“It’s just—” She blinked hard and cast her gaze up to the sky. “You grew up so differently than me. I’m not going to be able to give you that fancy Terranova life. Are you sure this is going to make you happy?” 

“Yes.” 

She looked at you, an eyebrow raised skeptically. Your hands moved to cup her face, fingers threading back into her hair. 

“Don’t make that face,” you chided.

“I just find it really hard to believe.” 

You took in a breath. Perhaps more elaboration was in order.

“I’ll put it like this,” you said. “I spent most of my life thinking I needed to be something extraordinary to be happy. I put so much time into trying to be special and nothing I did ever felt like it was enough. But then I met you, and one day I realized while I was here that I didn’t need that anymore. Just being around you makes me more content than I’ve ever been. I don’t want to be like what I was before. I would consider it my greatest success if I got to lead an ordinary life with you.”

You took her brief silence as an opportunity to press your lips to the corner of her mouth.

“Believe me now?” you asked. 

Ellie nodded, leaning in to drop an affectionate kiss at the top of your nose. 

And as you sat there, nestled into the warmth of her side and craning your head up to the sky, you’d never been more sure of yourself. 

This would be more than enough. 

final a/n: ok so some apologies are in order for this one! first of all, sorry for aborting jj lmao. i just couldn't envision doing light speed travel with a baby strapped to dina. big apologies for not including a final smut scene. i actually had one semi-drafted out because i wanted to write one where ellie bottomed bc i feel like it would really hammer in that she was finally choosing to be vulnerable, but the shift in the scene tone just didn't sit right with me. sometimes i write bonus scenes for big fics like this, so if there's enough interest i might write a short one shot of the scene i scrapped/other scenes that i also scrapped. also, speaking of things i scrapped: i had an alternate ending in mind where joel actually did die and ellie went on her seattle rampage + y/n realizes she's alive and tries to sneak out with dina to find her. i might end up writing that one too, depending on interest! anyway, thank you all for coming along on this journey with me so far! it's not totally over yet...the epilogue is still in the works! i appreciate hearing what you guys think of this and hope you all enjoyed !!!

also idk if this is important to bring up but i will say that i didn't realize the kind of message i'd be sending when i wrote a protagonist who's from a place like terranova—exoplanet isn't meant to be some sort of piece that makes you empathize with ignorant beneficiaries of slave labor...it's just the way it shook out and for that i'm sorry 😭

[kkaewrites]

real or not real — nagi seishiro x reader !

warnings. indecent language, ooc nagi.

tropes. meet-ugly, enemies to lovers.

you hate nagi seishiro.

he was stone cold, often referred to as socially awkward— but you feel like those were just excuses to make up for his rude and nasty behavior. personally, you think he’s overrated just because he’s considered a soccer genius. of course, no one ever believes you. they think your hatred clouds your judgement (it obviously does not).

you first met him when you were in grade school, deskmates for the first day of class. he was shorter than you at that time, but aside from his height, everything about him stayed the same. he still has the same gunmetal gray eyes that’s either reflected with boredom or reflected by the screen of his gray nintendo gameboy. he still has the same white hair, as clean as the first drop of snow, but as wild as a lion’s mane.

to you, there was absolutely nothing about him that’s fascinating— he was the same as any average boy. playing mobile games was his favorite past time, so much so that you believed that it was his lifeline at one point. or so you’d assume. he always kept to himself and was left to his own devices (quite literally), most things that kids enjoy don’t seem to pique his interest. you guess those were the reasons why he didn’t have many friends.

no, scratch that— he didn’t have any friends.

at first you wondered why. if there’s one thing you noticed about him even at a very young age, it’s that he’s handsome. he doesn’t have to be the “rich kid” with amazing gadgets and fancy toys, or the “cool kid” who knows what right words to say and way to say it, but he’s nagi. he was conventionally attractive without even trying. however, that fact doesn’t seem to make up for the fact that he looks lonely.

so, you’ve devised a plan to talk to him.

“hey. sei-chan, wanna be my friend?” you’re everyone’s friend. the sunshine child, the one who always lends her classmate crayons or pencils, the kid with pigtails who smile at strangers for no reason. you’re the kid that everyone loves, and if by some miracle, someone hates you (which has never happened and will never happen)— everyone would simply take your side. you’re loved by all.

if nagi was shocked by your sudden proposal, his features didn’t show any signs of it. what he does is pause his current game and faces you. it’s the first time you’ve ever stared at him eye-to-eye. your heart jumps.

uh oh. is this what they call a crush?

eyes filled with hope, you patiently waited for nagi’s response. you expected him to utter “sure” wearing his usual monotone voice, but it doesn’t come. and what he says instead ruins you. your heart does a somersault and tumbles, crashing onto the pavement and breaking into tiny, gliterring pieces. it did not feel good.

“no thanks. i despise people like you.”

you’re not sure what you’ve done wrong at that very moment. maybe you were too blunt, too cheery, too whatever — just something too much to be able to upset someone like nagi seishiro, who doesn’t feel strongly about anything or anyone. you didn’t have the courage to ask him what you’ve done wrong because your vision blurs. you always reckoned that it was due to anger, but your mother who saw you run home with tear-streaked cheeks says otherwise.

you still don’t know how you managed to piss off nagi, even until your very first year of college. after grade school, you never saw him again. you heard he studied at some prestigious high school but that was the end of it, you never really asked because you had no interest whatsoever. you somehow managed to assure yourself that there was no way you’d ever cross paths with him once again— so why is he here?

why, of all places, would he be your deskmate for your politics class?

at this point, you thought maybe the gods above despised you, too. did they hate you enough to not only be schoolmates, not only be classmates with this man, but to be deskmates? hate is the only logical explanation for this fucked-up coincidence. you’re not keen on fates or invisible strings so you’re sure this was just a punishment for you.

oh god. you hate it so much. you hate him so much.

without a word, you took the seat right next to him, taking the opportunity while he’s sound asleep. you’re not sure why he would take politics as his subject, because as far as you know about him, all he ever cares about is his mobile games. maybe soccer as well, but that’s not exactly related to politics, either.

when the professor enters the class, you found no reason to wake him up. he could get screamed at for all you care, but there was no way you’d ever converse with him at your own accord. because the only way you’d ever survive sitting next to him for the whole semester is by not acknowledging him at all. you can do that. you can avoid talking or looking at him. he’s not that talkative (and he’s not even awake) to begin with.

until your plan crashes and burns.

he turns out to be your partner for a school project— a big one, at that. you considered going solo, but the whole point of the project is to make sure two people are working together. it was a community development kind of plan, so unless he works with you and you work with him, you’d be getting an F for your politics class. that, you can’t have. even if it meant talking to him and enduring his presence.

he wakes up right after the class ended and you could barely contain your scoff. he sat through the whole 2 hour lecture just like that, does he have no care for his grades? doesn’t matter. it’s none of your business if he fails, that simply means that you won’t see him much anymore (which is a win for you).

you sighed. he should’ve been paired with someone else. why did it have to be you? why did it have to be your deskmate? and why did he have to be your deskmate? it was too much. how could you ever work with someone you hate? with someone who hates you?

you’re going to fail politics. you’re 100% sure of that. there was just no way that you’d ever accomplish this task— or you could beg your professor to let you switch partners. or you could ask your classmates to let you switch... but who would ever want someone as lazy as nagi to be their partner? fuck.

from the corner of your eye, you saw nagi yawn. it took all of you to swallow your pride whole and gulp it down to ever approach him, but it’s better than not trying. if you fail, at least you tried. even if it meant battling your inner demons.

so, clutching your bag straps tightly as if it would ever help, you turned to your sleepy deskmate. “nagi. it seems like we’re partners for the politics subject. i’m expecting you’d cooperate willingly so that—”

“sorry,” he interrupts with half lidded eyes. “do i know you?”

“you’re going to rip your paper to shreds.” nagi commented from behind you, peering over your shoulder as you aggressively wrote on your notebook. you imagined the page to be nagi’s face as you cruelly stabbed it, not caring about your pen or your paper’s state. you cannot believe that for some reason, you’re still stuck with the snow white haired guy. you’ve tried everything there is to get rid of him but nothing seemed to work.

“right,” your teeth could break with how hard you clenched your jaw. “will you be free later?”

“oh. i have soccer training.”

of course he fucking has soccer training.

you gave him the strongest deadpan you could muster before exhaling a deep breath. once to calm yourself down, twice to clear your head and thrice in hopes of losing all of your lungs’ air so you could shrivel and die on the spot. nagi seems to be unaware of your thoughts— and even if he had understood your facial expression and body language, he simply did not care.

“i’ll be free after, though.” he adds, as if you’d ever know that information if he hasn’t uttered it. this at least gives you the sense that he might care about the group project, and that he won’t be a complete inconvenience.

“okay. let’s meet up at the coffee shop near school. will you be done at 8?”

“yeah. but,” he pauses. “i thought we’d just do the project at my place.”

“who died and made you king?” you blurt out before you could think of a proper response. you wondered if you’d ever feel so strongly about a person the same way you did for nagi. he was driving you mad.

“what?” his clueless face almost made you feel guilt— almost. but you ignored the sensation and frowned instead. the least you could do was give him a clearer sentence:

“there’s no way i’d ever step a foot at your house.”

“it’s fine. no one’s home anyway.”

“that’s even worse.”

“huh? oh. don’t worry. you’re not my type.”

the conversations you somehow hold with nagi infuriates you. he has this way of making you feel like shit for some reason, and he does it with so much nonchalance you’d wonder if he insults everyone. but you know better and you know he definitely doesn’t, because you’re the only one he treats like this. it’s the absolute worst.

what does he mean you’re not his type? were you not pretty enough? not tall enough? not skinny enough? not fair enough? not what? ever since grade school, you’ve always thought that he sees you as someone “too much” and yet as he stands here with you, in an empty classroom— you wondered how you could be “too much” and yet be “not enough” at the same time.

and since when did you care about how he views you? since you were kids, apparently. because the words he would utter up until this day shatters you all the same. and you hate him— so goddamn much. but beyond all that anger, there’s grief. it doesn’t subside even as you grabbed all your things and shoved 6”3 foot tall nagi aside.

for some reason, he shows up at the café you mentioned at exactly 8 o’clock in the evening. you were typing away on your laptop, while a cup of caramel macchiato and a bunch of scattered papers littered your desk. you didn’t expect him to come, and it would’ve been better if he didn’t. but somehow, he’s here and he looks a little apologetic.

“are you upset?” he asks. his sports bag slumped over his shoulder as he stands right next to you. there’s an unoccupied seat in front but he doesn’t take it— at least, not yet. his whole, undivided attention was poured onto you and you alone. it makes you squirm in your seat, so you decided not to look up from your screen to greet him.

“no. take a seat.”

“you look upset.”

“do you want me to be upset?”

“no.”

“then shut up.”

wordlessly, he takes the seat right in front of you and slouches. he looks battered and fatigued from practice, but he doesn’t say a word to complain (to your absolute shock). you guessed that he walked straight from the field to the café without even changing or taking a shower, because his clothes clung to him like a shirt a few sizes smaller.

“shouldn’t you go change?”

“yeah. but i left my clean clothes at my apartment.”

fifteen minutes pass and you suddenly closed your laptop shut, eyes fixated on nagi’s gunmetal gray ones. he looks surprised from your sudden move, a look that you didn’t expect to recognize due to how miniscule it was. you felt bad for him. the café was getting too cold for comfort and all he wore was his jersey (one that’s drenched with his sweat). if you stayed any longer, he’d probably catch a cold.

why you care, however, that was not a question you could currently answer.

“let’s just go to your place.”

despite his constant need to laze around, his place wasn’t a complete mess— well, yes, there are (presumably dirty) clothes on the floor and used dishes on the sink, but you’ve seen worse. you expected his apartment to be so much worse. it seems like he’s not a complete monkey to not understand basic hygiene and cleanliness.

your only problem is that nagi seems to be bored. you caught him dozing off the coffee table as you ramble about your politics project, and you don’t even have to ask if he cares at all— because he’s trying to hide his obvious distate and boredom. so, even though you’d rather proceed to do your work rather than humoring this 6 foot tall giant, you pipe up:

“wanna play a game?”

“what game? i don’t like games that require effort.”

“it’s called real or not real. we take turns in guessing if the other person’s sentence is real or not real.”

“sounds like a pain.” he groans.

“you know what truly is a pain?” you turned to look at him. “this politics project. so take it or leave it. i’m kind enough to give you a break.”

“shouldn’t we play a different game? a mobile game, maybe.”

“what about a wager, then? the winner’s the boss.”

the game was a piece of cake— to you, at least. nagi’s an open book and it’s easy to read him. you explained that the mechanics goes like this: you take turns in giving very specific sentences about yourself, and the other party has to guess whether it’s real or not real. five wrong guesses means that the other person wins. so the only thing you have to do is to make sure that nagi loses first.

unfortunately, you were down to four mistakes while nagi only had one. the game wasn’t going like how you imagined it would be. how were you supposed to know that nagi keeps a cactus as a pet? how were you supposed to know that he only figured out how to play soccer when he was in high school? how were you supposed to know that he’s got a picture of his crush under his study table? (you still had no idea who that crush is, and it quite literally shocked you). how were you supposed to know that someone like nagi seishiro, was capable of liking someone romantically?

on the other hand, out of the six sentences you threw at him— he had only guessed wrong once. you don’t know how he’s so good at this game, too. it was either he knew awfully a lot about you, or was really good at second guessing things. you’re pretty sure it was the former. how could he know a lot about you, when he doesn’t even know your name?

“real or not real: i hate you.” you stated. his nonchalance was putting you off, but you’re not sure if you were uneasy because of it or if you felt guilty for saying that sentence out loud. you told yourself you could just take it back and act as if it’s not real but nagi himself looked so convinced when he said:

“real.”

he was right once again. but you didn’t have enough time to dwell on the whole thing when his sentence comes.

“real or not real: i want to kiss you right now.”

the silence was so loud it pierces your ears— or maybe you have gone deaf with that sentence. you’re not sure of anything at the moment because it feels like your senses were slowly slipping from your own fingers. if nagi was joking, his face didn’t show any signs of him laughing soon. but maybe you should know better, maybe he could joke like that with a straight face.

so you waited for a few minutes, for him to tell you that it was a joke— that it’s not part of the goddamn game because how could it be part of it? but nothing comes. his eyes were simply on you as he patiently awaits your answer. your make it or break it answer, at that. and it only dawns on you that this is real, this is his sentence and he’s expecting you to play. he’s expecting you to answer real or not real. because you were the one who proposed the game in the first place.

you wanted to scream and to run away, but you were rooted on the spot. time stood still and it froze you under nagi’s unblinking gunmetal gray eyes, as if the situation’s not bad at all. but this is a trick question, your rational mind says. he told you when you were younger that he despises people like you, asked you if he knows you upon meeting at your politics class, and told you that you’re not exactly his type— so there’s no way he’d want to kiss you. right?

you meet his gaze. right, nagi?

against your better judgement to think it through, you suddenly blurted: “real.”

his face doesn’t shift and nor did the mood of the room. your heart was beating erratically as if you’re not facing the guy you clearly hated with a passion, but the silence ensues. you were screaming at yourself, why the fuck did you say real? were you out of your goddamned mind? were you crazy? the answer’s clearly not real!

nagi, however, only looks away. “huh.”

“what?”

“i almost won. what a pity.”

“the answer’s real?”

“yeah.” he tilts his head and answers as if you were stupid. as if you were the one who’s weird and doesn’t get what’s happening— but maybe that really is the case. because you’re mind hasn’t caught up yet. what does he mean the answer’s real? does that mean he wants to kiss you, right now? how is that possible after all the things he had said to you?

you laugh. not the quiet giggle or the chuckle you were accustomed to doing, but a belly laugh— one that could rival a hyena’s. because this was funny. too funny. he’s definitely joking and you’ve only figured out that now.

“okay, fine. you got me.”

“what do you mean?”

“the joke. you’re so serious that i almost missed it.”

confusion marrs his face. “what joke?”

“about the kiss.”

“i wasn’t joking.”

“well, i’d rather have you joking than for that sentence to be real.”

“you hate me that much?”

he almost sounds hurt, but you knew better. how could he be hurt, out of all people? if there’s anyone who’s hurt, it would be you. how can he say all those hurtful things with so much nonchalance and tell you things like he wants to kiss you? how cruel must he be to toy with you like this? it was not funny. none of this was funny.

and it reminds you of your childhood— of your little crush on nagi that never seemed to go away. somehow, the little you screams that you should not fall for something like this. that it is easier to hate nagi than to love him. that it is easier to stand up from your seat, smile, and tell him: “yeah. i do.”

it has been a week. maybe two. or three? you’ve lost count. you’ve never visisted nagi again after the whole real or not real game, and you never saw him often because he’s been excused. something about soccer championship that you didn’t bother listening to. besides, you liked the comfortable silence now that he’s not around.

your phone dings. and it’s from an unknown number. but somehow, you guessed it has something to do with nagi.

unknown

real or not real: i’m sorry

oh. that’s right. the game technically hasn’t finished yet because no one has won. you told yourself numerous time that you won’t reply to his message, but against your better judgement, you somehow still did.

you

real

when your class ended, nagi seishiro was right outside. he was panting and sweaty— as if he ran just to get where you were. but this is nagi we’re talking about. there’s no way he’d actually do something like that, despite his lingering look on you. what’s that supposed to mean, anyway?

breathless, he speaks up to catch your attention. you were busy stuffing your books inside your locker, back against him as you completely ignored his presence. you did not say hi. you did not meet his gaze. but even without direct contact, your heart was drumming against your rib just by knowing that he’s near. what the heck.

“we won the game.”

there’s a lot of responses that entered your mind at that very moment. entry #1, who asked? entry #2, who cares? entry #3, why are you telling me this? and the list goes on. you’re pretty sure none of them were positive— but this was all so confusing. why was nagi chasing after you like a lost puppy who lost its mom? what’s he going for here?

“that’s good for you.” you slammed your locker shut and walked away. nagi eventually follows after you, as if there’s something in his throat that he wants to let out, but you didn’t give him the chance to. you’re sure nothing that would come out of his mouth is good. you’re sure he’s running after you because of the politics project, or because he wants to annoy you.

and you hate it. you hate him. your gut twists at the thought of him running after you like this is some shoujo manga and that’s the annoying part. how is your heart flipping with your every waking step if you hate him so much? you’re supposed to hate nagi, god fucking damn it.

you finally stop in your tracks, whipping around to face the 6 foot tall soccer player. to get it all over with.

“is there something you need to tell me?”

“we haven’t finished the game.”

“i don’t care about the game. leave me alone.”

“it’s your turn. your real or not real.”

this was stupid no matter what angle you look at it. it was just some game you made up and decided to try with nagi. it didn’t mean anything to you because all you wanted by then was to get his attention, so why did it matter so much to him? you don’t get it. you’re not sure how nagi circuits because everything he does confuses you. and before you know it, your irrational side takes over. reason left your body when you blurted the words:

“stop it. fucking stop this.”

why are you so persistent?

“was it fun to toy with me? was it fun when you told me you despised me when we were kids? was it fun when you told me i was not your type? i don’t fucking get it.”

you were angry. mad. seething. your blood boiled underneath your skin and you feared that it would leave your whole being in nothing but dust. through it all, you’re also confused. perplexed. lost. your mind can’t understand the fine line between hate and love anymore. your feelings overlap with each other and merges— you’re not sure what you’re feeling now. you’ve wondered how long you’ve buried this string of emotions you’ve had for nagi. that would explain why you’re nothing but a ticking time bomb now.

“if my playing with my feelings give you so much fun— then do it elsewhere. i have no time for things like this, nagi.”

“but i’m not playing, though. i’ve liked you for quite awhile now.”

excuse me?

“oops. i accidentally gave the answer to my next sentence. what a pain,” he scratches the nape of his nexk and looks away.

how the fuck am i supposed to respond to that?

“do you expect me to believe you?”

“i’ve got no reason to lie,” he shrugs. “plus, lying’s a pain. i don’t like it.”

“but— what you said back then...”

“i, well. i go blank when i talk to you. i guess. my stomach flips when you’re around and my throat goes dry.” nagi doesn’t look at you once while he utters this. tinge of red coats the tip of his ears and this is where you think ‘this is it’. he’s not lying. this is real, and you know that much— nagi never looked nervous until now. you think maybe that explains why he would avoid your gaze and why he would say the most confusing things. you think maybe this is nagi. the socially awkward nagi. the one who can’t talk to people properly nagi.

“i’ve always thought you were pretty. i despise pretty things because it makes me feel things. it’s a pain.” he mumbles. “of course i know you. of course i know your name. but it’s the first thing i thought to say because your face was too close. you’re prettier up close.”

he should stop talking. he should drop it all together and just kiss you, but you could never say these words because you haven’t wrapped your head around the whole thing yet. nagi likes you. nagi thinks you’re pretty. nagi short circuits when you’re around. nagi thinks you’re pretty. nagi’s actually confessing. nagi likes you. he thinks you’re pretty. he likes you.

“i don’t like pretty things. that’s not my type at all. but reo said i might be in love with you.” he finally turns to look at you and tilts his head. your face burns— and you swore it was because of the remnants of your anger, but everyone else could tell that it was not. your heart does a somersault, but this time it does not drop. it stays in the air, lingering like nagi’s perfume scent, until he carefully waits for it to land on his palms when he said: “i think he’s right. i’m in love with you.”

for the duration of your game with nagi and with all the truths shared between the both of you— this is probably the most real out of them. this is the only time he doesn’t ask the question ‘real or not real’ because his face says it all. his face says that it’s the real and raw truth. his face says that you must believe this because he’s not making it up. it was the first time you could read his expression. it was the first time that you’re not confused by nagi.

“fucking dumbass,” you comment. “that’s not how it works.”

you reach over to grab his collar, on your highest tip-toes because of his height. you’re pretty sure you’re the only ones present in the secluded corridor but the clamors of your heart makes an illusion of people cheering for you. somewhere in the parallel worlds of your universe, you think maybe those cheers exist. it only silences when you pulled nagi down with you, whispering:

“i hope you still want to kiss me, then.”

when he closes in the gap between the both of you, his answer was loud and clear.

i do. always.

notes. YES YES YES i finally finished this long ass fic! i’ve been writing it since forever & im just SO glad i finally get to finish it 🥹 as u can see, there is nothing on my mind rn but nagi seishiro. he’s literally living in my head rent-free and i’m not complaining. i love him too much. i hope u enjoyed this ‼️ as always, likes & reblogs are appreciated <3 thank you so so much for ur patience & love for this blog ❤️

ִ ࣪𖤐 masterlist !

[lesinquietes]

Summary: Katsuki takes you to dinner. You find it difficult to keep your guard up when he’s so respectful and charming.

Adult!Bakugou x Forensic Detective!Reader

⚠️ drinking. suggestive themes. violence.

l Previous l Next l

Dinner with Katsuki is precisely what you dreamed it would be: seamless and firmly rooted in his brand of romance. He takes you to a place that serves authentic Indian food. It’s right near the station. As soon as you enter, rich aromas of masalas and spices waft past your nostrils. Immediately, you begin to salivate.

“Fuck, it smells good in here,” your date mumbles. “Can’t wait t’ dig in.”

“Tell me about it,” you mumble.

In no time, a waitress collects you at the door. She guides you to a table amongst a small crowd of people. A few of them take notice of Katsuki and whisper excitedly between each other. You gulp. You hadn’t thought about the consequences of dating a pro hero. What will publicity bring?

“Ignore ‘em.” The blonde says gruffly. “Tonight’s about me ‘n you, not any of these extras.”

You cringe. He’s certainly not afraid to voice his opinions, hoping intimidation is enough to keep gossipers at bay. Fortunately, he’s right.

You both take a seat. He sets your knapsack down on the chair next to you. The waitress hands you a couple of menus, and you take your time going through them. The table is quiet as you decide. The atmosphere is light and soothing. The nerves you felt at the start of your date are dissipating.

You order your food, as does he. A glass of wine for you, and a double of whiskey for him. The waitress scurries off to fulfill it, leaving the two of you alone again.

Your mind is racing. Breaking the ice is hard. His fiery gaze is boring into you and he doesn’t appear ready to chat anytime soon. The only thing you can focus on is the case you just solved, so you use that to toss your nervousness out the window and initiate conversation.

“S-so, I’m glad we caught him,” you stammer. “The villain, I mean. Today.”

He leans back in his chair and shrugs.

“Yeah. Piece of shit should rot in Tartarus f’r what he did.”

You nod absently. Where he’s going, you hope he isn’t able to harm anyone else. The suffering he’s caused the family of his victims is enough for one lifetime.

“Did you have trouble capturing him?”

“Nah.”

“Th-that’s good.”

“D’ya think I asked you out t’ talk about work?”

His brows are furrowed and his mouth twisted into a petite frown. You lick your lips, heat flooding your cheeks. That’s what you get for acting impulsively. Why are you so uncomfortable with silence?

“S-sorry,” you mumble, embarrassed. “I just… I guess I don’t know what else to talk about.”

Katsuki appreciates your honesty. In the past, he’s been on dates where his partner scrambled to fill the silence, eventually bringing up whatever vapid shit came to mind. He respects that you don’t fall victim to the same sort of urgency. It’s more natural this way.

“How ‘bout yourself?” He suggests. “Unless you’re tight-lipped about your personal life on dates, too.”

You laugh. At that moment, the waitress swings by with your merlot. She sets two wine glasses down and pours. You thank her and take a sip. A heavy, bitter flavour of berries greets your tongue. It’s not at all unpleasant.

“I just don’t like talking about myself at work,” you explain, putting down your glass. “And I don’t do much else these days, what with staff shortages, so I guess I’m not used to it.”

“You work harder than this stubborn bastard I know.”

He means it as a compliment. In his youth, Katsuki went through an identity crisis and blamed him for the insecurities it caused; nevertheless, his bond with Izuku has only grown in adulthood — for the better. Now, he acknowledges his conscientiousness and potential as a true hero.

“Your friends aren’t buggin’ ya?” He inquires. “If I’d known you don’t cut yourself any breaks, I’d’ve asked you out sooner.”

It’s feels nice to be fawned over. Prior to today, you had no clue he harboured such a fascination for you. Although you want to take his attraction at face value, you have your guard up. You’re not looking for friends with benefits; you’re seeking a companion in him. If he thinks he can talk sweetly to you for the purpose of getting in your pants, he’s got another thing coming.

“They know I’m busy.” You brush off his concern with a smile. “And we see each other here and there.”

He props up his elbows on the backrest of his chair and stares across the room distantly, eyes fixated on the kitchen doors. You don’t blame him; you’re starving, too. You think he’s abandoned the topic, when he speaks.

“As long as you’re not workin’ yourself into the ground. Think I’d like t’ keep seein’ ya.”

It isn’t much longer until your food arrives. The waitress sets down the dishes and utensils; then, she wishes you a good meal and excuses herself. You spend the rest of your time chatting intermittently about the flavours, sharing food between each other, and enjoying your meals. When you finish, it’s later in the evening. You’ve emptied your wine glass twice, as has he with his whiskey. You’re in good spirits.

He orders two cups of tea for dessert. As you sip, he wonders about your family and which part of town you live in. Likewise, you ask him about his development into one of the top pro heroes in Japan. You discover he doesn’t like to boast. He mentions his passion for honing his quirk and being “the best” in his youth. He describes how Best Jeanist, a former Billboard Hero, taught him to concentrate more on contained survival than reckless showing off. All in all, he keeps his story short and sweet.

It sounds like he’s been through a lot. You’re surprised someone with such an action-packed life is into you. The edgiest thing you’ve ever done was taking out a loan to attend graduate school. You thought he would have preferred another hero. Then again, the idea of seeing another forensic detective doesn’t do it for you. You’d rather leave work where it is and retire after a long day. Maybe Katsuki feels the same.

“Well?” He prompts you gruffly.

You blink absently. Did he say something while you were lost in thought? You lift a brow and hum, prompting him to clarify. He rolls his eyes playfully, picking up on how the alcohol has distracted you.

“What did’j’ya think of the meal?”

You beam at him.

“I loved it!”

“You sure? I won’t be offended.”

“Positive! I really enjoyed myself. Thank you, Katsuki.”

You catch a brief smile fluttering across his face. Just as soon as it appears, though, it’s gone. He feels like an idiot for getting flustered by something so simple, but he likes listening to you, and every syllable of his name sounds like heaven on your tongue. In his teenage years, you eliciting this sort of vulnerability would have infuriated him; as an adult, he knows how to calmly identify his emotions and reel them in.

He fucking likes you — that’s the truth. You’re bright and interesting. You encourage him engage with his thoughts and opinions, instead of dismiss them. He’s compelled to learn more about you. He gets the sense that he could converse with you for days and not get bored. You’re a rare breed.

“Ready t’ go?” He prompts you. “I’ll pay and we can head out.”

“You don’t have to pay,” you insist. “I can afford my half.”

“Fat fuckin’ chance.” He snorts. “Lemme get this this one f’r us, princess.”

You huff. Normally, you would want to pay; that way, there are no expectations for later. You’re not sure if you want to put out tonight. He’s playing all his cards right, and the tension is there, but you don’t want this to be a one night stand. When you have crushes on people, you mean them.

“Well… okay.” You concede. “But only if I can get the next one.”

“We’ll see.”

“Hey! C’mon!”

“Grab your shit an’ let’s go.”

You groan as you slip on your windbreaker and grab your knapsack. He’s already at the counter, settling the tab. Katsuki escorts you out of the building with a hand on the small of your back. In no time, you’re back on the street.

At this time of night, there aren’t many people walking around. It’s mostly other couples, pacing home or simply enjoying the evening together. The atmosphere is serene. A gentle wind tousles the leaves, adding to the tranquility. You shiver.

Katsuki walks head of you; then, he extends his hand for you to take. You do so with only a smidgen of hesitation this time, trying to trust your budding feelings for him. He reels you closer. Your palms touch his firm chest as he secures you against him. He gazes at you with a ghost of a smirk.

“So, you want there t’ be a next time?”

Reflexively, you laugh. Your face burns as you scramble to respond. You’re not used to being teased this way.

“Um… yeah. I-I guess I do.”

“No more pretendin’ you’re not inta me, then.”

“When you started flirting with me, I thought you were just bored,” you admit sheepishly. “But I k-kinda had a crush on you.”

His grip on you tightens.

“Had?”

“Have.”

“S’what I thought.”

Katsuki isn’t sure if it’s the whiskey or how easy it is to talk to you, but he feels comfortable around you. He wasn’t sure if it would translate as well outside of work — in his eyes, you had the potential to be too good for him. If you want him like he wants you, perhaps there’s a shot. Besides, you’re bound to understand his busy schedule and odd hours, what with you being in law enforcement. So what if you’re not a hero? He’s merely looking for someone he can sync up with.

“Look, I ain’t great at expressin’ my feelings ‘n shit, but I thought you were cute as soon as you showed up t’ that crime scene. Showed me you were smart, too. Down t’ earth. Not just a fuckin’ stiff in a tight skirt.”

You draw yourself into the memory. When you received the call, you arrived earlier than everyone else with your equipment. Officers were stationed around the perimeter, blocking all pedestrian points so you could do your work. Apparently, the victim was a big deal — that’s why Dynamight was assigned to your case. Half of his job was to protect you; the other half was to commence takedown of the scumbag murderer.

You thought he was annoying and pompous when he first appeared, sauntering around the scene like he was in charge. He seemed disinterested, as though he’d rather be doing something else. You didn’t love his attitude. But then, as he started to help — flirting with you, in the process — you witnessed a different side of him. Maybe it wasn’t that he didn’t care, but more so that he desensitizes himself to function.

Despite the rumours about him, you recognize that Katsuki has feelings. He gives a damn about victims and keeping civilians safe. Although he’s brash and aggressive in nature, his heart isn’t as icy as people think.

“I always thought you were handsome,” you admit shyly, averting your eyes. “Whenever I saw you on TV, I mean.”

He smirks.

“You’re not a fuckin’ super fan, are ya?”

“No!” You grin. “You’re just always on the News for breaking things, so you’re pretty hard to miss.”

He snorts. You glance at him to see if you crossed a line with your comment. Joy fills your soul when you catch him rubbing his jaw with a large hand, no doubt to hide another smile. If you were anyone else, he’d tell you to fuck off. Because you’re you, he feels his attraction to you soar.

“Shut the hell up an’ tell me when you’re free next week.”

And he seals the deal with a light peck on the cheek. He fights the urge to capture your sweet lips once more, hoping that one day, he won’t have to.

[oneatlatime]

Lake Laogai

This Lake had better have Appa in it. With little water wings on.

Skipping the commentary as usual.

The Previously On section suggests that a whole lot of plot threads are about to crash into each other. Strap in folks.

Lefty Sokka!

Beat up Sokka quota fulfilled by his sister's critique of his art skills. It's not like he had paper to practice with at the South Pole.

Sometimes I forget that Aang is 12, then he does something like attempt to rescue his pet from a nefarious city-wide conspiracy of silence with lost cat posters.

"Good tea is its own reward." That means no, he isn't paid enough.

Remember what I said in my last post about Iroh bringing too much attention to himself?

"senior executive assistant manager" someone on the writing team has worked retail I see. Nothing like meaningless promotions with no raise attached! It's right up there with employee pizza party.

I have to pause here and point something out. This whole scene with Iroh? This is an adult fantasy. I don't mean dirty, I mean this whole scene was put in specifically to appeal to the adults who got roped in to watching this kids' show by their children. A rich man walks through the door of your shitty retail job, immediately spots your natural greatness, and offers you a much better paying job with unlimited creative freedom and a better house to go with it? Find me a burnt out retail worker who hasn't conjured up this fantasy five times a shift.

And so the plots come crashing back together. This won't end badly.

"patience really pays off" I checked. He waited literally three seconds.

Shout out to Toph in the background playing catch with a ball she can't see. Casual flex of epic proportions.

Remind me never to go to Lake Laogai. Sounds like it's lousy with Ju Dees.

So the Ju Dees don't know about each other? Because she seems honestly confused. Does Ju Dee think she's the only Ju Dee? What happens if two Ju Dees run into each other in the street?

Posters are illegal but I haven't heard a peep about recarving a bunch of fields into a zoo.

This is maybe the second time Aang's blown up over Appa. Frankly he deserves more blow ups about the whole situation.

I don't think knocking down walls will help find Appa, but I applaud Toph's spirit.

They took out a whole wall and then exit by the door anyways. That's funny.

I really hate this guy, but I have to admit that he may be the first truly competent villain of the series.

'The Jasmine Dragon' also lets anyone with half a brain know that you're Fire Nation. Try the Jasmine Badgermole instead.

Zuko really can't catch a break, huh? He wasn't happy being a tea server, but at least he was resting. But every time he gets five minutes to himself, the main plot reappears to drag him back into the action, whether he wants to or not. Although he hasn't figured out that he doesn't want to be dragged back yet.

Every line of dialogue in this scene is a good point. Zuko's right, Iroh's right. The Zuko's right again, then Iroh's right again.

YES YES YES GET HIS ASS

That was satisfying!

I'm not understanding why Sokka is the voice of reason here. Is he incapable of holding a grudge? He's the one that had all the animosity with Jet to begin with. Shouldn't it be Aang who wants to hear him out?

Toph is a living lie detector now? I can't think of an example off the top of my head, but I'm sure that could have come in handy previously. Any other incredibly useful skills we should know about?

Jet is oddly defensive for someone who claims to know he did wrong.

Ever get so excited that your spine malfunctions?

Sokka just has a metre long map in his pocket. Good friend to have in a pinch.

Avatar first! Katara is rude to an old person!

I'm going to have fun with Toph's new ability.

Toph, you have never been more right. It is the worst city ever. You are really shining this episode.

I know this is a serious scene, but I need to point out that Jet's guyliner is on point.

This shot is jarringly out of place. I think it's because it both black and white, and live action. Those have to be real clouds.

So the Blue Spirit can talk after all. Careful, your Zuko is showing.

Wow Zuko is good at sewing. And fast too.

Sokka is having far too much fun with this whole 'prompt Jet's memory' thing. Maybe he does have a bit of a grudge after all.

Katara can reverse brainwashing now too? Everyone's levelling up this episode.

This scene with the planks is a very cool and disorienting visual.

Didn't have 'the gaang breaks into a brainwashing facility' on my ATLA bingo card.

Pretty.

OMIGOD IT'S AP- did Zuko just break the fourth wall?

Everyone always forgets to look up.

So this fight is going to be Toph v. all of the Dai Li while everyone else tries not to get in Toph's way.

That's a boat.

Toph could probably take all these guys out faster if she wasn't having to constantly break off to save everyone else from them.

The Dai Li prancing up walls is a really cool visual. It's very Ty Lee of them.

I love watching her work.

Why don't you let Long Feng escape? He's no longer threatening you, and you're down there to rescue Appa. Just let him go.

The security on Lake Laogai is a joke.

Big words from someone who also had no plan whatsoever at the North Pole.

Zuko knows that Iroh's right. He knows, and that's important. I don't think Iroh is saying anything that Zuko hasn't thought and then hurriedly pretended to have never thought about before. It's why he says 'stop it' rather than being completely confused as to what Iroh is referring to.

Poor Appa's like 'can you have a crisis of self after you free me please?'

'You've chosen your own demise." No. You chose it for him. That's some top tier deflection/victim blaming right there.

Longshot can talk!

That's one hell of a set up and pay off re: Toph's lie detecting abilities.

Poor Jet. A double tragedy: to be likeable only when you're brainwashed, and to dedicate your life to wiping out the Fire Nation yet being killed by the Earth Kingdom.

Hi Appa. It's about time buddy.

Shockingly in character for Appa's first actions to be to single handedly save the Gaang from a threat.

You skip that bastard like a stone.

Everyone go and listen to the sound Appa makes when he spits out Long Feng's shoe. It's delightful.

I am framing this.

And this too.

I can tell there's some shmymbolism here, but it's gone right over my head.

Final Thoughts

Appa is back. The Gaang has Appa back. I have Appa back. Ok. I can relax now. With any luck, this means we can leave Ba Sing Se.

This episode felt like City of Walls and Secrets, Part 2. I think it was a good decision to have a couple of episodes between the two, but I think there would be some tonal whiplash if you binged this section of season 2. Which wouldn't have been a problem for a show designed to air once a week, so it's a moot point.

So Zuko freed Appa from his chains, and presumably pointed him in the direction of a door or something. Or maybe not; Appa has a ridiculously hard head, he could have busted his way out. Either way, Zuko broke the chains. Thanks Zuko!

In season 1, Zuko finds the Avatar the world had lost. In season 2, Zuko finds the Sky Bison the Avatar had lost. So in season 3, Zuko will find something Appa has lost. I wonder what that will be?

Jet being killed by the Earth Kingdom is so deliciously ironic, and tragic, yet very in character for the Earth Kingdom's approach to this war. It's also literally this:

Smellerbee and Longshot have really gotten the short end of the stick over and over this season. They were the only ones to decide to stick with Jet. Presumably they were the only ones who believed that he had had a legitimate change of heart. And they were kind of wrong. They get to Ba Sing Se only for Jet to immediately backslide way past even where he was at his worst in Season 1. He completely discounts and dismisses their legitimate concerns for his methods and his overall health. Then Jet gets arrested and disappears for two (?) weeks. So what do they do now? Get jobs? Steal so they don't starve? Then suddenly Jet's back but he doesn't even remember them. Then suddenly Jet's dead. The whole point of coming to Ba Sing Se just died, in a way that shows very clearly that their desire to help with the war is not welcome at all in the city. So what now? Do they leave and try to fight in the war from outside the walls? Do they settle down and try to forget about the war? Things did spiral completely out of Jet's control once the Dai Li got involved, but you have to admit that he's left his only remaining friends up a creek.

Sokka had some good jokes but was oddly ok with this episode's events. Toph had some great lines and got to shine with a new skill that any writer with half a brain will bring back in future episodes. She felt like the audience substitute this episode, which is usually Sokka's role. Toph was episode MVP for sure. Poor Aang took a bit of a back seat this episode. Zuko finally hit the crisis point, and may well have made his first indisputably correct decision of the series. But, as previous episodes have gone out of their way to show me that Zuko being good always goes badly for Zuko, I'm sure freeing Appa will somehow come back to bite him.

Iroh's question of "who are you? And what do you want?" was Zuko's entire character arc this season. He took a shot at answering the "who are you?" portion in Zuko Alone, and sort of halfway got there before messing up at the end of the episode. As for the "what do you want?" Zuko will tell you (often and repeatedly) that he wants his honour back. But I think he just wants to go home. The thing is, I strongly suspect that the home Zuko wants to return to hasn't existed since his mother left, if it ever existed at all. Which means that while "who are you?" has an answer Zuko can work towards, "what do you want?" has an answer that is kind of impossible. So Zuko is going to have to learn to want something new.

RIP Jet. Your life was fucked to Hell long before you were old enough to try and salvage it. You'll probably be missed by more people than you strictly deserve. War sucks, amirite?

[allthingsfangirl101]

The Munson Twins – Steve Harrington

Steve's POV

The Munsons were always a strange pair of twins. For one thing, they were polar opposites of each other. Eddie was into weird role-playing games. Y/N was into volleyball. Eddie is in danger of repeating his senior year. Y/N graduated early. Eddie is into rock and roll. Y/N plays the classical violin and the piano. Eddie loves black leather jackets. Y/N likes flowery sun dresses. Eddie is kind of a loner. Y/N is more popular than me.

Since Y/N graduated early, we spent our senior year in some of the same classes. That being said, we barely spoke to each other. The most we ever talked was congratulating each other after one of us won a game. All through high school, Y/N and I ran in the same social circles because of our sports so we often went to the same parties. Just because we went to the same parties doesn't mean we were friends.

Not to say I didn't wish we were friends. I've gone to most of Y/N's games and she's gone to most of mine. Whenever I looked in the stands and saw her, I became more self-conscious of my playing. I even went to her orchestra concerts. I usually sat in the back and left before anyone noticed I was there.

Throughout high school, I couldn't get Y/N Munson out of my head. It seemed like everywhere I looked, she was there. Even when I was dating Nancy, my mind often wondered to Y/N when I was alone.

When Vecna started killing teens and Eddie was blamed, my thoughts focused even more on Y/N. I wanted to talk to her about all of this, to make sure she knew her brother wasn't what the town thought, but I also didn't want her involved in any of this shit.

I had to force Y/N to the back of my mind as we tried to help Eddie. When we got stuck in the UpsideDown, I allowed my mind to go back to her, hoping she was safe back in Hawkins. We were walking to Nancy's house and I kept glancing at Eddie. If he knew that my thoughts were constantly on his twin sister, he'd kill me.

"Eddie," I said, clearing my throat as I caught up to him. "Hey, man. Um, listen I just umm. . . I just want to say thanks. For saving my ass back there."

"Shit," he laughed. "You saved your own ass, man. I mean that was a real Ozzy move back there."

"Ozzy?"

"When you took a bite out of that bat," he tried to clarify. "Ozzy Osbourne. Black Sabbath. He bit a bat's head off on stage. You really don't know who that is?"

"No," I chuckled. "Sorry."

"Well, anyway, it was very metal, what you did, is all I'm saying."

"Thanks," I sighed.

"Henderson told me you were a badass," he continued. "Insisted on the matter, in fact."

"Wait, Henderson said that?"

"Oh yeah. Shit. That kid worships you, dude. Like, you have no idea. It's kind of annoying, to be honest. I don't even know why I care what that little shrimp thinks, but I guess I got a little jealous." Eddie sighed before continuing, "I guess I couldn't handle the fact that Steve Harrington was actually a good dude. Rich parents. Popular. Chicks love him. And not a douche? No way. It goes against all the laws of the universe and my own personal Munson Doctrine. Then again, that's worth shit because even my sister talks highly of you."

"Y/N talks highly of me?" I tried, and failed, not to stutter.

I looked over to see Eddie smirking at me. He leaned in a little too close and whispered, "Very highly of you."

"Okay," I said awkwardly as I used my elbow to push him away from me. I cleared my throat and rolled my shoulders back.

"All jokes aside," Eddie said, "my sister does think highly of you, dude. Whenever people would start to talk shit about you, she'd instantly stand up for you. I never understood it, but she's always talked about how people should give you a chance. She believes that there is more to you than meets the eye."

"She really thinks that?" I couldn't help but ask.

"Hell yeah," he laughed.

"I guess I always thought. . . I mean, everyone else saw me as a dick. I figured she did too."

"Nope," he teased. "She always sees the good in people. It's extremely annoying."

Eddie walked away, but my mind was going a hundred miles an hour. I thought over the few, very few, interactions I've ever had with Y/N. We walked a few more miles, the others talking amongst each other while I walked behind the group.

"Alright," Eddie sighed as he joined me. "Enough of this. You've been in your head since I mentioned Y/N. What's the. . ."

He didn't finish his thought. Instead, he turned toward me with a smirk on his face.

"Ohhhhh," he elongated. "I get it now."

He playfully pushed me before continuing to walk through the woods.

"Wait," I called out as I chased after him. "You get what?"

"Come on, Harrington," Eddie sighed. "Please tell me I don't have to be the one to point this out to you."

"Point what out?"

"You have a thing for my sister."

"What?" I scoffed. "I don't. . . Why would you. . . That's so. . . No."

"No?" Eddie teased. "You sure about that?"

"I mean. . . That would be. . . Crazy."

"No, it wouldn't," he said simply. He saw the look on my face and sighed. "Look, Harrington, as much as I may not understand it, Y/N's right. You're a good guy. You'd be an even better guy if you'd grow a pair and tell my sister how you felt about her."

"What if she doesn't feel the same?" I asked before I could realize how weird it was to have this conversation with Y/N's twin brother.

"She does."

My heart jumped into my throat at those two words. Eddie didn't say anything else. He didn't need to. He sent me a wink before jogging and catching up with the others.

"She does," I repeated under my breath. "Holy shit. She feels the same."

* * * * *

Three months later, Hawkins was barely rebuilding. After Eddie's death, there were two people I was worried about; Dustin and Y/N. Dustin was doing what he normally does - pretending to be okay so no one would worry about him. I checked in on him almost every day. He was getting better, especially since Max was improving.

Y/N, on the other hand, barely leaves her uncle's trailer. Every single one of us has tried to visit her, but her uncle keeps telling us she doesn't want any visitors. Y/N won't even talk to the kids.

"Hi, Steve," Eddie and Y/N's uncle sighed when he opened the door.

"Hi, Mr. Munson," I greeted. "Is Y/N here?"

He sighed as he crossed his arms over his chest. "Look," he sighed, "I really appreciate all you kids have been trying to do for Y/N, but I think it might be best if you give her some space."

"But. . ."

"I'm sorry, Steve," he continued. "I'll let her know you stopped by."

My heart sank as he closed the door. I couldn't get myself to move as I heard Y/N's uncle saying something to her. I couldn't quite hear what he was saying but I forced myself to leave. I turned around and slowly started walking back to my car. As I drove home, I racked my brain trying to figure out what I could do for Y/N.

Just when I had lost all hope, I noticed someone pulled over to the side of the road. As I got closer, I recognized the driver as Y/N. She was looking at her engine.

I didn't hesitate to pull over. I got out of my car and started walking toward her.

"Need a hand?" I called out. I instantly cringed when she jumped. "It's just me, Y/N."

"Sorry," she stuttered.

"It's okay," I tried to say lightly. "So, you need any help?"

"This stupid thing won't start," she grumbled. "And I have no idea why. Eddie usually. . ."

My heart sank when she stopped talking. One look at her and I could see the tears building.

"He usually handled the car," she forced herself to continue as she cleared her throat.

"I could take a look," I shrugged. She looked up at me, her eyes softening.

"Really?"

"Of course."

I walked over to the front of her car and examined the engine. The longer I stared at it, the more Y/N giggled. She was laughing at me, but I didn't care. At least she was laughing.

"You don't know anything about cars, do you, Steve?" 

"That obvious?" I chuckled as I turned toward her.

"Little bit," she said, showing me how much with her fingers. She cleared her throat and wrapped her arms around herself.

"I could still help," I said quickly.

"How?" Y/N asked, her voice softening.

"I could give you a ride," I offered.

"Steve. . ."

"I don't mind," I said quickly. "I can take you home or wherever you were on your way to."

"You don't have to," she said quickly. 

"I don't mind," I tried again.

"I can call my uncle."

"Come on, Y/N. Let me help you."

She looked up at me and held my gaze. "Are you sure?" She asked, her voice soft.

"Of course," I shrugged. I held my hand out, not entirely expecting her to take it. When she did, my heart jumped into my throat. Ignoring the circus in my stomach, I led her over to my car. She smiled as I opened the door and held it for her.

"Thanks," she said as she got in. I took a shaky breath as I walked around and got in the driver's seat. I started driving to the trailer park, my nerves jumping all over the place.

"So," I cleared my throat, "how have you been doing?"

"Fine," she shrugged, looking out the window.

"Are you. . ."

"Please don't, Steve," she cut me off. She looked over at me and I could see the tears building.

I nodded before turning my attention back to the road. We went through the rest of the drive in silence. I wanted to talk to her but I wasn't sure how to start a conversation with her. Before I would've liked, we pulled in front of her uncle's trailer.

"Thanks for driving me, Steve," she said softly.

"Y/N, wait," I said as I grabbed her hand before she could get out of my car. When she looked at me, I forgot what I was going to say.

"Steve," she said softly when I didn't continue.

"I just wanted to say," I said slowly, "if you ever need anything, the group and I are here for you."

"Thanks," she said, clearing her throat. She started to get out but realized that I was still holding her hand.

"There's something else," I forced myself to say. I looked into her eyes and gathered all the courage I could before saying, "I'm sorry about Eddie."

She turned away from me but right before she did, I could see the tears building. With the hand I wasn't holding, she covered her mouth. My heart sank when I realized she was hiding her tears.

"Y/N," I whispered. I pulled on her hand and she let me bring her into my chest. As I wrapped my arms around her, she sobbed into my chest.

"I wish we could've done something," I whispered. I pulled out of our embrace and held her shoulders as I looked deeply into her eyes. "I wasn't able to keep your brother safe, but that doesn't mean I can't keep you safe."

"Steve," she said under her breath.

"I promise, Y/N, I will always be here for you," I said. "If you ever need anything, and I mean anything, all you have to do is call me. Day or night."

"Day or night?" She teased. "That's a little creepy, Steve."

"I didn't mean it like that," I stuttered. "I just meant that if you needed me, I'd. . ."

Y/N cut me off by leaning over and pressing her lips to mine. I didn't hesitate to deepen the kiss. I gently grabbed her face as our lips moved against each other. When we were both out of breath, we broke the kiss and leaned our foreheads against each other.

"You know," she whispered, "there is something you could do for me."

"Anything," I said instantly.

"I'm starving," she started. I smiled when she didn't continue.

"Y/N," I said softly. "Can I take you to dinner?"

I smirked as I leaned in and kissed her again. I felt her smile as our lips moved in sync. I broke the kiss and pressed my nose to hers.

"If it's not too much trouble," she whispered.

"Not at all."