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DCxDP fanfic Idea: New Money
The ghost zone doesn't have a formal form of currency. Depending on which part of the zone one is in, a trade could be made, or a Deal can be struck, but coins can rarely, if ever, be exchanged.
Every subculture that forms in the zone can eventually develop its own currency, but it will only have value within its territory. An example would be the credit crystals that the Far Frozen have developed, with a corresponding amount of funds floating inside their iced rocks. Still, if a Yeti were to travel even a foot outside their snowy mountains, the stones would become an interesting clothing choice and nothing else.
Ghosts value emotions more than any amount of gold or coin. Oftentimes, the most powerful of ecto beings would battle it out if a child's favorite teddy bear somehow found its way into the zone, though the thin cracks between worlds or an entire army of ghost mercenaries could be bought with a single pair of favorited socks.
It may not seem as much to the living, but to ghosts who could see the attachment embedded into the item, it meant everything. Some emotions could even be eaten off of the items if they were fresh enough, and while it did give a power boost, most of the time, the emotions were positive.
If a negative emotion was eaten, Ghosts could quickly become addicted to it, and when cut off from the negative emotion, they could soon fall apart in seconds.
Spectra was a famous example used in the zone as a precautionary tale for all new ghosts. Her beauty and power were only a facade to her desperation for angst emotions, and she flouted about the Zone, always on the hunt for her next fix.
It was pretty sad to see.
A few ghosts did their best to limit additions, such as Walker, who established himself a section of the zone using his great sense of justice that he had died with. He found human contraband that came into the zone unnaturally, sealing them away in his haunt.
These items usually had lickings of anxiety, desperation, or even fear attached to them and could quickly turn any ghost into a violent sort.
Walker's mission since his creation was to limit this exposal. He even arrested various ghosts that went to the human world through unnatural means, a majority coming back contaminated with human emotions and becoming a danger to fellow ghosts.
Most of these ghosts had items on them that were deemed worthless once all emotion was sucked out. Walker usually had his men take them to the Dump.
The Dump in the Ghost Zone was an extensive collection of worthless items gathered at the far right. It was known as a neutral section of the Zone, as every civilization and haunt often traveled there to eliminate clutter. Everything unwanted usually finds its way to the Dump.
Danny, after having a trial with Walker and coming to the understanding that he was not, in fact, attempting to make his fellow Ghosts addicted to anger- cause apparently a majority of Walker's prisoners were in there because of their exposal to Danny!- he was directed to the Dump to rid of his worthless ripped bag.
Danny had flown there expecting mountains and mountains of garbage. What he found instead were islands made entirely of gold. He flouted over the piles and piles of jewels, gold coins, random bills, and valuable items, gaping at the long collection that went further than his eye could see.
"What is all of this?" He gasps just as Box Ghost floats by carrying a jewelry box. He flips it open and shakes out a necklace with a diamond as large as Danny's palm onto the pile of jewelry. He gives Danny a friendly wave when they make eye contact.
He proudly flouts over to Danny, taking the neutral status of the Dump to heart. No fighting was allowed in this territory, much like Truce Day; all ghosts abided by this rule.
"The Box Ghost was lucky to be near a natural portal leading to the Human world's sea. This small rectangular object was once beloved by a grandmother, and now it is all mine!" He cheers, holding the jewelry box, practically half rotted and dripping wet over his head. A faint, gentle green glow surrounded it.
Danny blinks, pointing down at the necklace. "What about that? Aren't you going to keep it?"
"The Box Ghost has no need for useless stones!" The floating man even sticks his tongue to the necklace that could pay for Danny's college education (If it were real).
Only half joking, Danny asks, "Can I have it then?"
Box Ghost blinks, then gestures to the mountains and mountains of wealth. "If the Ghost Child wishes for a garage, he can take whatever he likes. No one will mind. Though, why would you waste time on soulless items? Box Ghost can not be sure!"
Box Ghost flies away laughing as if Danny was the one to mock for wanting a diamond necklace. He watches the ghost go before turning back to the mountains and mountains of shimmering gold.
Deciding to fly through the Dump to see what else he can find, Danny begins exploring- but not before taking the necklace- and later comes upon an island dedicated to various human clothing that looked like it came from hundreds of eras. He finds himself dressing up like a Lord of Old for fun when he happens upon leather bags.
Seeing as no one was there to stop him, Danny filled up each bag with chains and jewels, flying home in his new get up. He figured he could use some of the funds even if the gold was fake.
_____________________________________________________________
Oliver Queen is new money. His wealth came from only three generations ago, and while that is rather impressive, it held no candle to families like the Waynes.
The Waynes were old money, and their galas showed it. Every time old Brucie called him to celebrate, Oliver went along only to keep his company board happy.
They couldn't afford to offend one of their most prominent investors even if there were no thoughts behind Bruce Wayne's eyes. Oliver would have enjoyed himself more at these parties- if there was one thing Bruce Wayne knew how to do: throw a fantastic party- but sadly, he had to deal with the other old-money people who attended Bruce's parties.
The passive aggression reminders that he would never been on their level, the choking humiliation, the constant looking down on him. Well, it got exhausting. Especially since Oliver spent so much of his free time fighting for justice and trying to make the world a better place. These people talked and acted like they were above it all.
Like nothing could touch them, even when a majority of them were the cause for so much darkness, Oliver faced as Green Arrow.
He needed a stronger drink.
"Rather self-important for new money, isn't he?" A woman whispers loudly, mocking in every inch of her tone. Oliver's eyebrow twitches as he drowns his glass. He turns towards the voice, somewhat ready to cause a scene so he can go home, but it is a surprise to find that the gossiping woman isn't facing him
Rather, they are turned towards a young man, likely late teens, who is currently piling his plate high with sweets. The boy glances in the woman's direction before snorting unattractively and adding more to his plate.
Oliver is mildly impressed that he could make the woman flush with rage without saying anything. He had never seen the kid before, but he almost looked like a new Wayne with his dark hair and sparkling blue eyes.
He finds his feet walking towards the teenager before he can think about it. Something interesting may be at this gala after all.
"Hey, you seemed to really like fudge. Have you tried the raspberry ones? It's the best." He starts gesturing to a familiar chef's name in front of a chocolate tray. He had a sample of their work only a week ago when Batman brought some to the Watch Tower.
It was absolutely heaven.
The teen considered the pink color fudge before he took three cudes. With his bare hands. Well. New money, indeed.
"Thanks!" The boy chirps after stuffing one in his mouth and savoring the flavor.
"You're welcome. My son, Roy, really likes it too." He smiles as the boy glances towards where his adoptive son is currently chatting with Jason Todd. Those two find themselves attached to the hip whenever there is a gala. Maybe Roy will bring him home for the holidays soon. "I'm Oliver Queen, owner of Queen Industries."
"Danny Fenton," The boy responds slightly hesitantly. "Do all rich people do that? Add what makes them rich to their inductions?"
Oliver snorts, "Only the real tacky ones."
"Okay, Mr. Owner of Queen Industries."
Oh Oliver like this kid. He grins, ignoring the jab. "And what about you? What made you rich enough to be here to tonight."
The kid's eyes gain a certain glint of humor as he shrugs. "One man's trash is another man's treasure."
Oliver moves to ask what he means, but Brucie shows up then, and he can't find a way out of the conversation. He's buttering up to the big idiot, knowing he lost sight of the strange boy.
Afterward, Oliver looks into Danny Fenton, only to find that the boy somehow appears out of nowhere with billions of dollars but no known source of where he got them. It also seems Batman was already on the case, assuming the boy was counterfeiting somehow, but Oliver didn't get that sense from the kid.
Something wasn't adding up about the boy, but he didn't think it was illegal. He just had to convince the big bad bat of that. If only it could be as easy as convincing Bruce Wayne to spend millions of dollars.
#dcxdpdabbles#dcxdp crossover#New Money#Part 1#Danny rocking up rich#Bruce thinks he's doing something illegal#Oliver thinks he's sticking it to the Man#Ghost culture#Danny found el Dorado#No ship! Oliver just thinks Danny reminds him a lot of Roy#Oliver Queen is considered new money#He has no idea who Batman is#Roy knows who Jason is
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You tell me I'm a good boy or a good pet and I'll melt in your hands. - Jazz, probably, when he figures out that he's a simp for Zim even if he doesn't realize WHY he's obsessed with him.
Zim this, Zim that - he's all you talk about, Dib. Maybe you don't actually hate him. Maybe you actually like, wanna suck his dick or something --
GAZLENE --
what? Am I wrong?
Nnn-- I mean -- yes. Yes you're wrong Gaz.
Hey, have you noticed there's lots more planes flying overhead around here, lately?
Yeah, that'd make sense and all, considering what happened last week.
What happened last week?
...........Dib. You know what happened last week.
I don't, actually -- oh no...
What is it? Why're you acting so weird? Like, weirder than usual?
Fuck I overshot.
What do you mean, you overshot?
Gaz, what year is it?
It's 2001. Why?
Month?
September --
Of course! That's what happened, last week. Thanks. I forgot for a second. That's all.
How could you forget about it? All you've been talking about is how Zim was the one who did all of it --
BECAUSE HE DID, GAZ.
What?
That was ZIM - he didn't manage to sell any candy bars so he lost our bet. He was so confused why humans weren't falling to their knees, terrified. In those EXACT words. I have a recording of him saying just that.
What the hell, Dib --
:voice recording plays - Zim sounds absolutely devastated: "they didn't even blink an eye when I put that city in ruins. How can these humans be so.... Eh? I forgot the word, what was I saying?
Oh. Yeah. These hyumens aren't scared of my super scary simulation of me destroying one of their precious cities! They just shrugged and said whatever. I don't want your fucking candy."
Do you humans not get enough moneys to buy these things? These are....really good chocolate. Like, I expected them to be sand based on the name of them, but -- they're actually good? Is this a PRIVATE school?
[Dib's voice can be heard in the background; he apparently planted a bug that looked exactly like The Bug --, right where Zim tended to look at himself in the mirror. Because Zim likes to talk to himself out loud - but he's gotta see his reflection to do it. But Zim's eyes are fucking terrible and he can't see shit, even with his occular implants. Even though he is an Irken Elite. You're not gonna get anymore information from me than that. Either way, you hear enough to know that it's Dib speaking, even if you can't make out what he's saying. But Zim can hear him even if Dib is WAYYYYYY. Over there bc of his antenna. Like. You can hear a Dib when he is in his home. That is how much better Zim can hear than Dib]
Did you really just hijack me, space boy? I'm trying to tell my part of the story here as the fly on the wall of every single moment the two of you think you're alone.
Bobby Dawn what are you doing. (Barbie Dan?)(nah, Bobby Dawn. But if you wanna say it where people hear the name both ways, go for it)
Anyways, Steven asked for my assistance with the next chapter of class clown. This ain't the next, next chapter, but it is a chapter that'll show up later down the road. He's gotta finish a Mr. sludgey POV, first.
This just the super unedited version done while I'm high bc I love creating bonds and strengthening them via writing them. That includes my TikToks and my journal entries I ain't shared with y'all and all the writing we ain't shared with y'all, neither.
Gonna go get myself some lunch now, tho. Been at this long enough. ❤️ Have a good day now, y'hear?
All fanfiction authors have praise kinks in the form of comments and likes
#lmao serious tho#i got a comment this morning that was just KUDOS over and over and a keysmash#and i have been on cloud nine all day#like awww yay you wanna see where this fic is going?#man i hope you know you're in for a wild ride#because i dont know either#lolololol#❤️ love y'all#invader zim#encoder/recorder AU#class clown#work in progress#agent m#signing off
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I Care. Chapter 6 (Part 2/2) (rottmnt comic)
Leo finds it hard to see himself as useful anymore, sense he has to rely on someone else to help him get around. On the other hand, Donnie's injuries have been healing up well! Can't say the same for Leo though... As Leos mood drops, so douse his health. Leo refuses to make himself more of a burden by being sick. But as Leo was just about to care for himself, the shadows refuse to give him peace.
Next Part:
---
Previous Part:
#rottmnt#riseofthetmnt#saverottmnt#rise donnie#rise leo#rise raph#rise mikey#fan fiction#Comic#Angst#Leo angst#Donnie angst#i care comic#Chapter 6 part 2#Chapter 6#Wheelchair#Fire#Tw choking#Tw fire#tw throwing up#tw disturbing#lost souls#Monsters#Tw blood#Tw scratches#tw horror#Disaster twins#Brotherly love#Action
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Writing Notes: Adverbs
Conjunctive adverbs: accordingly, additionally, also, anyway, besides, certainly, conversely, finally, hence, however, instead, in conclusion, lately, likewise, moreover, namely, nevertheless, so, then, yet
Adverbs of frequency: always, usually, often, sometimes, rarely, never, ever, hardly ever, occasionally, seldom, generally, frequently, normally, once, twice
Adverbs of time: tomorrow, tonight, yesterday, now, then, today, already, daily, last, next, previously, after, afterwards, early, late, later, since, still, just, seldom
Adverbs of manner: well, fast, straight, hard, loudly, proudly, suspiciously, strangely, kindly, easily, rudely, neatly, quickly, generously, eagerly, accidentally, rapidly, hungrily, foolishly, cheerfully, really (can also be adverb of degree in sense of “very”)
Adverbs of degree: lots, somewhat, barely, very, much, most, nearly, too, extremely, enough, so, slightly, especially, just, almost, scarcely, virtually, fully, far, exceptionally
Adverbs of place: behind, above, nearby, backward(s), toward(s), outside, inside, around, over, overseas, close, away, upstairs, downstairs, here, there, everywhere, deeply, next-door
Adverb - a word that modifies a verb, adjective, other adverbs, or adverbial phrases.
The 6 common categories of adverbs are:
conjunctive adverbs
adverbs of frequency
adverbs of time
adverbs of manner
adverbs of degree
adverbs of place
One thing to keep in mind is that there can be some overlap or repetition across the different categories of adverbs, because words can have more than one meaning or use depending on the context.
For example, yet can be a conjunction, meaning “though,” but it can also be an adverb of time, in the sense “in the time still remaining.”
Conjunctive Adverbs
A conjunction is any word that connects words, phrases, clauses, or sentences. They express the relationship between ideas or parts of speech.
A conjunctive adverb is an adverb that acts like a conjunction.
Conjunctive adverbs are often set off from the rest of the sentence by a comma.
For example: We don’t have time to run to the store. Besides, you already have cereal at home.
Conjunctive adverbs can also go at the end of a sentence, in which case they don’t need to be set off with a comma, as in: I didn’t really want a pony anyway.
Adverbs of Frequency
Detail at what rate over time an action or event occurs.
They answer the question “How often?”
Generally go just before the verb they are modifying:
She always orders chocolate cake.
My brother will never get over it.
Adverbs of Time
Describe when things occur.
They answer the question “When?”
Are very flexible: they can go at the beginning of a sentence set off with a comma, right before thea verb or clause they are modifying, or at the end of a sentence. It depends on the adverb and how it is being used in the sentence. For example:
Tomorrow, the class is going to the zoo.
We last saw her before dinner.
Are you going to Paris next?
Adverbs of Manner
Manner here means “a way of doing, being done, or happening.”
Answer the question “How?”
Can go before or after the verb or phrase they are modifying. For example:
The students quickly ate their lunches.
Our mayor spoke loudly and authoritatively.
Adverbs of Degree
Describe intensity or quantity of an action.
Answer the question “How much?”
Typically go before the verb or part of speech being modified. For example:
We were too hungry to talk during the meal.
The little puppy was extremely energetic.
Adverbs of Place
Describe location.
They answer the question “Where?”
Typically go after the verb or other part of the speech they are modifying. For example:
I think your sister is upstairs.
Go toward the big tree, then make a left.
Source ⚜ More: Writing Notes & References ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs
#adverb#writing reference#writeblr#writers on tumblr#spilled ink#dark academia#literature#creative writing#writing prompt#poets on tumblr#grammar#langblr#words#lit#writing#writing resources
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I thought of it this way:
I went back to college at 29. I spent five years getting an AAS, a BS, and most of a BSW (health issues kept me from completing that part of my dual major) so I graduated at 34. Given retirement ages in the US, I still had more time left in the work force than I had been alive. Even by generous, SSI retirement age standards, I still had 33 years left of work after I graduated. Why would it make sense to go, oh well, I've already put in ten years, so I might as well stick with it for the next 40! Life is long, so long, and you might as well enjoy it.
#don't let the societal expectation that life ends at 29#stop you from realizing that you've still got a good 40-50 YEARS to go after 29
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"Are you... reading Twilight?"
You had asked Jason, who broke into your apartment while you were gone grocery shopping. He only gave you a hum and continued reading as you set your grocery bags on your kitchen table.
You watched him turn the page and felt a sense of dread. It was your copy from when you were 13 years old. It had notes and doodles in the margins. Did he read your notes? Of course he would. He reads the annotated versions of Jane Austen he has for fun. Why wouldn't he read your notes? The world seemed to be against you this day.
You were so mortified you didn't even hear him laugh at a doodle you had of Edward biting a dog with the word "nom" next to it. He was almost done with the book.
You've only been dating for a handful of months. Would the notes break up your relationship? You don't remember the majority of them.
You haven't touched the trilogy since school, and you originally didn't even want to read it. The social pressure from your friends became to be too much, and it felt like a religious experience at the time.
You had forgotten about the book entirely in the years you've had it crammed in a bookcase next to the rest of the series, which, with great horror, you saw he also pulled out to read.
"Don't tell me you're enjoying the book."
You said in disbelief. The memories run through your head of your blushing cheeks at simple words on pages while the girls ganged up on you to ask which team your on. What team is Jason on? Or has he read this before behind closed doors? He shrugged and simply replied,
"I am."
You wanted to bolt out the door, but you had melting limited addition candy cane ice cream in your grocery bag.
Instead of running away, you bravely start putting away your groceries with your eyes trained on Jason. He seemed to genuinely enjoy your trashy romance book that's so incredibly dated. This is so bizarre to you. He's a fan of the classics and loves books that he can revisit without cringing.
The book appeared partially destroyed by the abyss of your backpack with a torn cover and a broken spine, but it drew Jason's attention. Of course, it would draw his attention. He always said a well loved book is one you take everywhere. A book with a broken spine and torn cover is going to make him curious.
He never had the normal teenage phase, so he's never read the book. He was curious, and he was rewarded so far. He understands now why teenagers like the trilogy so far.
You decided to break into the ice cream. You tensed at every page turned. What did you write in there? You tried to remember. You vaguely remember writing "yummy muscles" on a page. You cringed. Oh, the horrors of a horny teen.
The ice cream was as delicious as you expected it to be. How could you look him in the eyes ever again? Will he tell the whole family? You were stress eating.
Jason finished the book and went to pick up the next one, but you plucked it out of his hands before he could open it and grabbed the final book as well.
"I'm seriously going to throw these in the shredder."
Jason smirked at you. He enjoyed your little doodles and notes. It was as if he was meeting you when you were kids. He pointed out,
"I think they are too big to shred, pipsqueak."
You pouted, which only made him more amused. He pulled you into his lap and kissed your cheek. You huffed,
"I can still try."
He laughed. You were so adorable. He might have to embarrass you more. He murmured to you,
"I especially enjoyed your note of 'delicious dog meat.'"
You groaned and held your face in your hands, making the books fall to the floor. You hated your past self in this moment. Why did you keep those books? For Jason to show up and read them?
The feeling of dread eventually went away the more he kissed you. You filed away the fact you can know for a fact Jason read Twilight now, and part of you wondered if he'll spiral into the hellscape of fanfiction as a result. You are going to burn those books.
You like to think you ended up with a better love story than Twilght. Sure, you may be dating a zombie instead of a vampire or werewolf like teen you had wanted (if we can have Superman, we can have a sexy vampire or werewolf), but your zombie is perfect in his own ways.
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The Purest Kind of Love || Part Two
Azriel x Fem!Reader x Eris Vanserra
Word Count: 3.2k
Warnings: none
Summary: The morning after the bond snaps between Y/N and Eris, Eris goes to talk to Y/N but can’t seem to have a genuine conversation. Azriel works through his frustration.
The Purest Kind of Love Masterlist
A Court of Thorns and Roses Masterlist
PREVIOUS / NEXT
•••
The High Lord of Autumn paced outside of the large double doors into the room where the one who had turned his life upside down resided. The citrus scent he remembered from the previous night invaded his senses. It must have been nearly an hour since Eris left his own chambers early that morning to make the walk through the Forest House to where he knew the people of the Inner Circle were residing.
Despite the five separate rooms each housing members of the Inner Circle, Eris somehow knew exactly which one Y/N resided in. It was the grandest one and previously Eris’s own bedroom when he was a child. The small burn mark on the door was still present from where he singed it out of anger when his powers were just developing.
No matter how much Eris tried to distract himself, his palms sweat as he took one more shaky step towards the door. The citrus scent made his heartbeat increase as he slowly raised his fist and knocked on the door. It echoed through the empty corridor and Eris looked around, he didn’t want to be seen.
A faint reply croaked from the other side of the door. “Come in.”
Once his hand was on the handle, Eris pushed open the door. It creaked loudly and he internally groaned. When Eris fully stood inside of the room, the citrus scent mixed with a cedar and…salt. The door closed behind Eris as his eyes fixated on Y/N.
“Oh,” she said with a hint of disappointment. “I thought you would be someone else.”
From the scent alone, Eris guessed who she hoped it might have been. He didn’t say anything.
The room fell into complete silence as Eris took small calculated steps closer to Y/N. The salty smell grew the closer he got to her. The streaks on her face was a clear indication of the tears she must have shed.
“Did you sleep well?” Eris asked, already knowing the answer.
“I haven’t slept,” Y/N replied.
“I thought as much,” Eris said. “If it brings you any peace; I haven’t slept either.”
“Funnily enough it doesn’t,” Y/N snapped.
“My, my, there’s no need to bite my head off,” Eris said, his voice calm.
Y/N’s eyes met his for the first time and the bond hummed to life between them. It made Eris want to step closer to her– it was as if a rope was tied around his waist and was pulling taunt, beckoning him in her direction.
“You seem nice enough, Eris, perhaps a little full of yourself, but I am clearly not in the mood now,” Y/N stated.
Eris held his hands up in defence. “I didn’t come here to fight you. If you must know, my original intention was to ask if you were okay.” A flicker of surprise flashed across Y/N’s eyes but it was gone as quick as it arrived. “But you seem to have already answered that question already.”
A long sigh passed Y/N’s lips. “No, I am not okay. How could I be?”
“A mating bond snapping was not what I expected to feel last night,” said Eris, holding his hands behind his back and fiddled with a loose thread on the cuff of his jacket.
“You are not the only one surprised by that news,” Y/N said. “Now, will you please leave me alone. I don’t feel like talking right now.”
Eris nodded. “As you wish.”
As he turned his back, he tried to ignore the small sigh of relief slipping from Y/N’s lips. As his hand touched the cool metal of the door handle, Eris inclined his head to Y/N.
“Just so you know, I am finding this news just as surprising and as hard as you,” Eris muttered. “I may not show it, but I am terrified.”
Eris didn’t wait around to hear if Y/N would respond. The door flung open and he stepped into the hallway, leaving Y/N alone in her room.
When he was back in the corridor, Eris wiped his palms on his jacket and groaned. He hadn’t meant to come across so condescending, he had every intention of being genuine and asking her if she needed anything, if there was anything he could do. But the moment he found himself slipping into that vulnerability, his defences rose and were harder than steel.
“That is a sight I wasn’t expecting,” the irksome voice of Rhysand spoke.
“This is my home in case you forgot, Rhysand,” Eris drawled, already irritated to spend time Rhysand’s presence.
“A home that I helped you claim,” Rhysand replied.
“Did you? You and I seem to be remembering differently,” said Eris, his voice dripping in annoyance. “I seem to recall that your two lap dogs, Azriel and Cassian, doing most of the work while you eye fucked your High Lady.”
A threatening growl emitted from Rhys. “Careful, Eris. You just claimed your title as High Lord. It would be a shame to pass it along so quickly.”
“Exactly, I just became High Lord. My powers have increased, Rhysand. I could incinerate you where you stand and I wouldn’t need to even move an inch,” Eris stated, folding his arms across his chest, looking down his nose at the High Lord of Night.
“What were you doing in Y/N’s room?” Rhysand asked.
“I don’t see how that is any of your business,” Eris commented. “This is my house, I can go where I like.”
“Stay away from her, Eris,” Rhysand sneered.
“Or what? Your shadowsinger will take me to his torture chamber?” Eris questions. “I don’t see how checking on someone after they have been crying the whole night is a valid reason to be tortured but I guess that is just how the Night Court works.”
“She was crying?” Rhysand asked, eyes darting to the closed door.
“Sobbing her heart out,” Eris said. “It was only when I comforted her did she stop.”
Rhysand glared at Eris. “Stay away from her.”
“Why? I seem to have done more than her friends did,” Eris retorted.
“I won’t warn you again, Eris,” Rhysand threatened.
A low chuckle slipped past Eris’s lips. “You seem to forget who you are talking to, Rhysand. I am the High Lord of this court. If you lay a finger on me, I am within my right to declare war against Night. And right now as it stands, the Autumn Court has more allies than the Night Court.” Eris took a step back and straightened his jacket. “I want you out of my court by midday. Y/N and Nesta are allowed to stay if they desire. They are the only two of your court I can abide having a conversation with.”
Eris turned on his heel and walked down the hallway just as Rhysand knocked on Y/N’s door. A faint ‘Go away’ was heard from the other side. Eris was not sure why but it made a smile tug at his lips.
***
Blood covered his hands and the dummy he had beat to a pulp. It was the third one Azriel had battered. The first two were thrown into the corner of the room haphazardly. There wasn’t a fourth one to use so Azriel immediately picked up the sharpest knives that were in the training room.
The ache in his chest hadn’t eased and it wasn’t because of the bargain. Something was lost in the Autumn Court; his hope. He had thought that his hope had been shattered beyond repair before. First with Mor and the next time with Gwyn. At least when he was with Elain, he never needed to cling to the hope of her being his mate.
As the first blade cut through the air, Azriel let out a long sigh. It was foolish to believe he would find his mate in Y/N. And Azriel did truly believe it for a time. There was no one else in the world that made him feel the way Y/N did. Even their transition from friendship into a relationship had been easy. He had always trusted her, confided in her, bonded with her. Azriel knew that his hope was shattered– for good this time. He couldn’t imagine a world where there would be someone better matched for him than Y/N.
Azriel threw the final blade in his hand and he watched as it missed the target completely and embedded itself into the stone pillar behind.
“Not only did you crack a glass, you now decide to begin destroying my home,” Cassian commented as he walked into the training room.
Azriel spared Cassian a quick glance before turning his back to him to grab bandages for his hands.
“You weren’t with us when we all came back from Autumn,” Cassian said. “Y/N said you left early.”
At the mention of her name, Azriel stiffened. “I came back last night.”
“Without Y/N?” Cassian questions.
Another person entered the room and the shadows around Azriel began to grow restless. He couldn’t handle any more questions.
“It seems as if you don’t know where your lover is either, Azriel,” Rhys commented. “I was wondering where she went after we arrived back here this morning. I was hoping she was with you.”
“If anything she is most likely at her cottage,” Azriel answered. His heart stung. Only hours ago he would have been calling it home. Their home.
“And do tell me that if she is there, why are you here?” Rhys questioned with a raised eyebrow. “You have a day off, typically we rarely see you.”
“You’ll be seeing a lot more of me,” Azriel growled as he wrapped his hands up.
Behind him, Cassian frowned, stepping closer to the shadowsinger, his eyes widening once he noticed his bloodied hands. “What happened to your hands?” Cassian asked.
Rhys inclined his head to the heap of training dummies in the corner of the room. “I assume Az is letting out some anger.”
“I’m not angry,” Azriel stated.
“Tell that to the dummies I now need to replace,” Cassian groaned.
Azriel turned his body to face his brothers, eyes cast down to the floor. “I will be returning to my room here. Only if that is okay with you, Cass.”
Cassian’s eyebrows furrowed. “Of course. But why? You’ve been living with Y/N for nearly four years.”
“There won’t be any more,” Azriel responded.
The High Lord glanced at the open doors of the training room. “I see. I hope that this doesn’t affect the work the two of you occasionally do together.”
“I can be professional,” Azriel snapped, pulling on the end of the bandage too tight.
“Why did the two of you split up?” Cassian questioned, still looking utterly confused.
“I’d actually like to know that myself,” Rhys added.
“It’s none of your business,” Azriel retorted. “But you will pry regardless of what I say. All you need to know is that we were not compatible.”
Cassian snorted. “Not compatible my ass! Az, I’ve seen the way you look at her. You look at her like she is the centre of your universe, as if she was a goddess herself.”
“And how did she look at me?” Azriel asked, honestly curious. Though Cassian was rather talented at overexerting the truth, he wanted to know the way Y/N looked at him when he wasn’t looking. Did she look at him the same way? Or did she look at him the way many others did…in pity.
“I never really noticed a difference in the way she looked at you,” Cassian replied. “But she was… touchier with you than anyone else.”
Azriel deflated at Cassian’s answer. Did Y/N never look at him any other way but neutrally? Was he wrong about the connection they had the whole time?
“I see,” Azriel voiced.
Rhys’s gaze still bore into Azriel as if he were trying to read his body language but Azriel had gotten used to hiding how he feels so he was an expert in deception. There was a presence in his mind and Azriel knew that Rhys was lurking, just waiting for him to lower his walls to find out the true story. The walls in his mind remained impenetrable.
“I still don’t understand why your relationship ended,” Cassian wondered aloud. “You have been happier than you have in years.”
“Can you just leave it alone, Cassian!” Azriel snapped. “I do not want to talk about it anymore. Our relationship ended because of our incompatibility, that is all. Nothing more, nothing less.”
Of course he told a lie, he had to. Azriel didn’t want to admit to his two happily mated brothers that the female who had lit up his life was mated to another– destined for a life of fiery love with a High Lord; it was what she deserved. He remembered the pity in their eyes when Gwyn had told him she had found her mate and Azriel never wished to be looked on like that again by anyone.
Once again, Cassian’s mouth opened as if to argue back but after quickly looking at Rhys, Cassian closed his mouth. Rhys’s orders were most likely whispered into his mind. Azriel was grateful.
“If you don’t mind, I need to go and collect my things,” Azriel stated, making his way towards the door.
Only after a few steps, however, it was as if the world was mocking him as Y/N appeared in the threshold. Azriel’s whole body went rigid as he looked at her. She looked exhausted.
“Az,” Y/N whispered.
For a split second, Azriel wanted to run back into her arms and pretend as if he were her mate instead. He wanted to wrap his arms around her waist and bury her head into her neck, breathing in her sweet intoxicating scent. They would return home and everything would be as it should.
After that second was up, Azriel’s face washed over with one made of stone. His expression didn’t change. Y/N shifted her weight from one foot to the other, a habit Azriel knew all too well. It indicated that she was nervous or uncomfortable. By the tension in the air, Azriel knew that she was feeling the latter.
Forcing one foot in front of the other, Azriel walked towards the open doorway, aiming to leave without a fuss. Y/N watched him the whole way, her eyebrows knitted together. His intention was to leave without a fuss but as Azriel walked past Y/N, his arm knocked her shoulder, causing her to stumble the smallest amount.
Azriel closed his eyes and continued his stride. He hadn’t meant to knock her. He was too focused on leaving that room that nothing else really mattered. But Azriel didn’t look back, he couldn’t– because the moment he did, he knew he would run back to her and beg on his knees for her to take him back.
Once Azriel was far enough away, he stopped and let his wings scrape on the floor, not having the energy to hold them up anymore. He looked down at his bandaged hands to find the blood soaking through the white fabric. With a clench of his fists, Azriel continued down the hall, trying to scrub any thought of Y/N from his mind.
***
Neither Rhys’s nor Cassian said anything as they stood motionless in the training room. Y/N didn’t have anything to say either as she took a small hesitant step inside. Did Azriel tell them? She thought. Though if she had to admit to herself, she didn’t want anyone knowing of her bond with Eris yet. She knew that nobody would take kindly to the news.
“What did you do to him, Y/N?” Cassian asked.
“I–” Y/N failed to find the words as she replayed Cassian’s question in her head. What did I do?
“Why do you assume I did something?” she questioned.
“You saw him,” said Cassian, gesturing to where Azriel disappeared. “I have never seen him that angry before.”
“Again,” Y/N repeated. “Why do you assume that I did something?”
“I don’t see you looking too upset,” Cassian scoffed.
Y/N frowned. “How do you know what I feel? Just because I am not punching and beating things up doesn’t mean that I am not upset.”
“Then why don’t you enlighten us and tell us why your relationship with Azriel ended,” Rhys chimed in. “Azriel is reluctant to tell us.”
“It is none of your business,” Y/N snapped. “It is private between Azriel and I.”
“And Eris,” Rhys added.
“What?” Y/N questioned.
“I watched him slip out of your room this morning,” Rhys commented, picking a piece of lint from his clothes.
“After he tried to comfort me after Azriel left me alone after the celebration,” Y/N explained, getting more irritated by the second. “If you dare to think anything else, Rhysand, mother help you.”
Rhys shrugged. “I wasn’t implying anything.”
Cassian who had silently stood beside Rhys spoke up. “Why don’t you go home, Y/N? Azriel is staying here and it doesn’t seem like he wants to see you.”
Y/N scoffed. “So if Azriel is upset then you don’t want me around? Why haven’t you assumed that I also want to be around my family? Or does that sentiment only extend to Azriel for the both of you? After all, I was never invited to family dinners by the both of you, that was always Feyre, Mor or Azriel’s job. It seems like I was only your family once Azriel and I were in a relationship, despite the fact that I have known you for around five hundred years.”
“Y/N–”
Cassian was cut off by Y/N’s hand. “No, it’s fine. I now know exactly where I stand.”
“You know we think of you as family,” Rhys cut in.
Saoire shook her head. “No, Rhys, you don’t. I see that clearly now.”
Neither Rhys nor Cassian had the chance to respond as Y/N quickly left the room. She didn’t exactly know where she was going but all she knew was that she wanted to be alone. As she walked down the corridor, she could faintly smell the familiar scent of Azriel and Y/N’s eyes burned with unshed tears. She knew that there was no way to convince him to stay with her. Her soul was tied to someone else, the male she was fated to be with.
Eris Vanserra was someone Y/N had never met personally; only heard stories about– and most of the stories were not positive. Yet, when she danced with him last night, even if she wasn’t leaning into his fake flirtations, she had an amazing time dancing with him. Even this morning when he checked up on her after their mating bond snapped, he didn’t need to do that. And left the room when she asked him to. It was the bare minimum but they didn’t align with the stories of the cruel, evil, wicked High Lord that the Inner Circle had spoken about for many years.
Y/N shook her head, hoping to rid herself of thoughts about Eris and continued down the hallway. No destination in mind, all that she wanted to do was be alone and dive into her own research– anything to distract her from her reality.
Taglist:
@22hilda @lazypostfandomer @inkedinshadows @awkardnerd @azysmate @therealmoonstone @lets-talk-about-xyz @starryevermore @babypeapoddd @tothestarsandwhateverend @batboyrhyrhy @callsigns-haze @wildflowermooon @wildfloweroutlaw @acourtofbatboydreams @bookandtealover @queenoffeysand @the-sweet-psycho @the-starlight-way @curiosandcourioser @cheekym8s @honk4emoboyz @paleidiot @buckystevelove @that-girl-reading @readinggeeklmao @hextech-bros @scarsandallaz @paige0103 @k8r123-blog @asweetblueberry2 @bloodicka @eddsthemunson @fourthwing4ever @crypticme @that-one-bibliophole @lilah-asteria @sassybluebird @ninthcircleofprythian @imma-too-many-fandoms @happyt0exist @spiritualmooshroom @phoenix666stuff @imagoddessinmystories @sveretrice @stormieandateacup @impossibelle @opium-den
#acotar#acotar x reader#a court of thorns and roses#azriel x reader#azriel#azriel acotar#azriel shadowsinger#azriel fluff#eris vanserra#eris vanserra x reader#eris vanserra x you#high lord eris#azriel x eris#eris acotar#eris x reader#azris
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𝙏𝙄𝙀𝘿 𝙏𝙊𝙂𝙀𝙏𝙃𝙀𝙍 S.mg
𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻���𝘀. song mingi x fem!reader
𝗦𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮/teaser. You always thought of Mingi as nothing more than the spoiled son of a wealthy CEO. He was the kind of guy you’d hear about in the tabloids, always caught in the middle of some scandal, some drunken night out, or some rumored fling with the next “it” girl. His last name alone commanded respect, but it also made him untouchable in your eyes. He was everything you despised about people with too much money—arrogant, entitled, and far too used to getting whatever he wanted.
For you, the Song family was just another name tied to wealth and power. Your own father was a successful businessman, a man who’d built an empire from the ground up. But there was a difference between your family and his, your family had always struggled to maintain what they had, keeping the balance between status and reality. The Songs, on the other hand, seemed to live in a world that operated on a completely different set of rules—one that never knew struggle.
It wasn’t that you hated Mingi, per se. You just couldn’t stand the way he moved through life with no real sense of accountability. His arrogance was like a cloud surrounding him, blocking out everything. Every time he spoke, you could feel the cockiness in his tone, the way he knew his words would hold weight because of who he was. It made you want to roll your eyes.
And yet, in some strange part of you, you couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes lingered on you sometimes. It wasnt anything serious, but in those moments, you saw the softness beneath his ego and arrogance the vulnerability he hid behind the confidence. You could see it when you both stood in the same room, but neither of you ever addressed it. Instead, whenever you were forced to interact it would be like a cat fight.
It was easy, then, to pretend he didn’t matter when your families were never really close. You had different friend groups, different circles. And when you had to endure forced family gatherings, he’d always disappear into the background, a silent figure in the corner, looking as uncomfortable as you felt.
But that all changed the day your father came home with a grim look on his face, news that would change your life forever.
Your father sat you down, the tension in the room thick enough to cut with a knife. His hands were clenched around the glass of water in front of him, his eyes looked tired, worn down. You’d never seen him like this before. Your father was always in control, always the one with the answers. But today, his voice was weaker than usual as he spoke, and you realized, something was seriously wrong.
“Sweetheart,” he began, his tone soft but firm, “the company… it’s in trouble.”
Your stomach dropped. You didn’t need to hear more. You knew what this meant. Your father’s empire,the business that had been the backbone of your family for years, was facing bankruptcy. But you would never expect the next words that came out of his mouth.
“Your mother and I have spoken to Mr. Song,” he continued. “We’ve come to an agreement.”
“What agreement?”
The words that he forced out sounded like they were being pulled from deep inside your father, something he was going to hate saying, but knew he had no choice. “You’re going to marry Mingi.”
|| 𝗪𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁. series
𝗚𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲. arranged marriage!
𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀. will be updated for every chapter.
𝙏𝙖𝙜𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩. (Open! Comment below if you wanna be added) @minkioswoo @yunhogrippers @hee-yunie
(hii I’m back. This took me really long to plan and then write, I’m not sure why I decided to make a series since I started writing just this year but I really love reading the series other people write and post and I haven’t read something with this genre (series) on mingi so I just started writing and saw it going somewhere so ig that’s how it came to be. I did take help from a few friends to improve the writing since I don’t have an extensive vocabulary so it’s better to read. Also i just wanna say that this is a 100x better than my first fic cause this took forever to write with making sure the paragraph formation was put together, vocab, and planning out the whole story line to make sure the first chapter would flow well with the others. I really hope you like this!)
𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝟭.𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝗼𝗻𝗴 𝗲𝘀𝘁𝗮𝘁𝗲
#ateez#ateez fanfic#ateez smut#ateez x reader#ateez au#mingi#song mingi#ateez mingi#mingi x reader#mingi smut#mingi fluff#mingi angst#mingi ateez#fanfic#atz x reader#atz smut#atz fluff#ateez fic#arranged marriage#strangers to lovers
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I'm busy thinking about the fact that we can see how a lot of the conflict between Stolas and Octavia has roots in the unhealthy family dynamics brought on in Stolas' childhood.
Mainly inspired from a quote I heard from someone reacting to the episode, that being something along the lines of "Fucked up parents create fucked up children.", and tbh, I can kinda see that with Stolas and Octavia.
Also, let's get one other thing out of the way as well, the family dynamic Stolas and Octavia had before Blitz came into his life was never healthy at all.
The line 'You have always been the only good thing in my life!' hits really hard for a few reasons, with one of them being because it shows that before Blitz came into his life, Octavia was practically Stolas' whole life. Which naturally is not healthy for either of them, while your child is a very significant and important part of your life, they should still not be literally your entire life.
And well, Stolas being like that makes sense, you can see roots of that within Stolas' isolated childhood and upbringing, the only person Stolas had as a friend was Blitz when he was a child, and even then, they didn't see each other again for the next 25 years, leaving Stolas with basically no one else, no other friends to talk to, etc.
And you can see that manifest itself into the family dynamics between Stolas and Octavia, because Stolas has no social life at all outside of the family, and his family, which as a result, leads to Octavia being practically Stolas' whole world, as shown by that line he said.
The line is also quite interesting as well, because in one side, we have Octavia being practically Stolas' whole world, but I also believe the vice versa of that line is true as well.
Which I suppose is the segway into the section of what happens when an imp comes along and absolutely shatters that unhealthy family dynamic.
Something the show has made clear is that a lot of Octavia's life has also revolved around Stolas, which makes sense, but the issue here is that I'm pretty sure that almost all of Octavia's life revolved around Stolas or the family in some way, as I'm pretty sure that this also leads us to a conclusion that Octavia has no support system at all, no actual friends, etc. Which is something that we recognize is quite similar to Stolas, as he also had no support system, no friends, etc, until he met Blitz at that fateful party.
Especially if we consider the fact that Stella is both a neglectful and abusive parent, so it's not like Octavia had the support of both parents here, Octavia only had the support and attention of Stolas her entire upbringing and childhood.
You all remember the "so that girl could live a normal life" comment Stolas made in s2 e1? I believe that this family dynamic is exactly what Stolas was referring to when he said that, Stolas also believed that the family dynamic at play was a normal and healthy thing for the child, when it was anything but.
Which brings us into the events after Blitz came into Stolas' life, when that the family dynamics Stolas was referring to with that 'normal life' comment were completely shattered.
The family dynamics bring up something interesting to me about Octavia, I feel like her upbringing and childhood is also part of the reason as to why she feels like Stolas has abandoned and replaced her with Blitz, why she struggles to understand the fact that Stolas can care for and love Blitz a lot, while also caring for and loving her a lot as well.
Obviously there's more to the situation to it than just this, there's other things like Stolas failing to properly explain the situation and other things that Octavia really should've known, to give an example. But at the same time, I still can't help but think that all of this has roots in the unhealthy family dynamics between them that got shattered when Blitz entered Stolas' life.
And well, it was Octavia's lack of knowledge about the situation that led to her coming to the conclusions she did, such as the conclusions she came to when she found the happy pills, for example.
Octavia's song also makes something else clear, that she used to think that him and Stella had a happy marriage until Blitz arrived in his life, and we know that the reason Octavia used to think that is because of Stolas hiding the abuse he suffered to give Octavia a 'normal life', which as I've stated before, this 'normal life' also included the unhealthy family dynamics between them, the same one where Stolas' entire life revolved around Octavia and the family, and vice versa for Octavia.
Which is the main reason why I believe that the unhealthy family dynamics is a part of the reason of why Octavia said and did what she did this episode, because Blitz actually started the transition into healthier family dynamics, with those being Stolas finally getting the courage to get the divorce, and Stolas having someone in his life outside of the family, no longer having Octavia and Stolas' family quite literally be all that there is to his life.
But here's the thing, because of Octavia's unintentionally lonely upbringing with the unhealthy family dynamics she doesn't know the full situation of, I don't think she recognizes that it is not healthy for the parent or the child for their entire world to be centered around their child plus the family, and vice versa. Plus for the same reasons and a bit more, I don't think she properly recognizes that Stolas can love and care for both Blitz and Octavia a lot at the same time.
As I have stated before, we point to multiple other reasons as to why Octavia behaved, said and believes in what she did, such as her feeling abandoned and replaced by Blitz, and I definitely agree with you all on that Stolas is nowhere near entirely innocent in this whole situation for multiple reasons, but at the same time, I still believe that at least part of this reason why has something to do with Octavia's upbringing, and the unhealthy family dynamics associated with said upbringing, which has roots in Stolas' extremely isolated and lonely upbringing.
Just to be clear, I am not blaming Octavia for anything here, and I am also not hating on Stolas for choosing to be happy with Blitz as well, while I have stated multiple times that Stolas did indeed fuck-up on multiple occasions, I am still not choosing a side here regarding the whole situation. I will not accept any Stolas or Octavia slander, as I have stated multiple times by now.
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"Hey babes! Can I get a frozen Pina colada with a salt rim please!..." (slides extra 20$ across counter top) "... Maybe a little extra salty...😉"
🫡now your speaking my language🫡🍹🧂🧂🧂
[ “are you crazy? we’re in public” “then you’d better keep quiet” + cassian + smut ]
-> BLURB BAR <-
Cassian was the kind of male your mother warned you about.
With his charming smiles and cheeky dimples. All that thick muscle bulging against worn leather. When you close your eyes, you can still smell him; sandalwood laced with the bitter tang of iron.
A pretty storm.
The perfect disaster.
Cassian was controlled chaos, the kind that sweeps through and fucks your life up while you’re too blinded by their beauty to notice. And just when the fog clears over your eyes, they’ve already moved onto the next best thing and your left cleaning up the carnage.
You’d been warned, yet you ignore it anyway—hypnotized by those welcoming hazel eyes and all too pliant under hands strong enough to break fragile bone.
He uses it to his advantage, manhandling you about; placing you exactly as he wants you. Legs splayed over his lap. Tits warm and supple in his palms when he subtly gropes at you, a dripping cunt pooling arousal in his lap. “Cassian,” A gasp pulls free when the pad of his fingers drag through your folds, voice shaky when you glance about the room. “Are you crazy? We’re in public—someone will hear.”
“Then, you’d better keep quiet peach because I’m not stopping.” Muscles tense in response, back bowing to conceal the thick arm tucked beneath your dress. His wrist flicks casually, lazily; two fingers keeping you spread while another applies a dizzying amount of pressure to your bud. One knee jerks at the stimulation, knocking ever so slightly under the table before you remember where you are—the discretion required and as if on queue, Cassian mutters in your ear. “No one’s going to see either.”
Debatable.
But, he certainly makes it more difficult with his hulking figure swallowing you whole, every inch hidden by muscular shoulders and a broad wingspan.
You're lucky that gathered guests are too busy fawning over your High Lord and his Lady to notice that the commander of his armies was working two fingers into your leaky cunt. A blush burns along your cheekbones, spine stiff and breathing spotty when trying to pretend that the steady thrust of his digits inside you wasn't shooting lightening along your nerves.
A cold-sweat breaks out along your hairline, hips subconsciously rutting into the pleasure brought between your thighs. "This is insane," You huff out, the smell of fae wine assaulting your senses with its sweet notes--almost as intoxicating as the male responsible for your undoing. "Can't believe you're making me do this."
"Not making you do anything, peach." The pace of his fingers speeds up, a humiliating squelch sounding below fresh linens as your body shows just how weak your flesh is. It's infuriating how quickly Cassian gets you there; too aware of what makes you tick and using it to his advantage. "Not yet, at least."
Lips swell under the stress of your teeth biting into them but it's the only way to keep the whorish moans trapped on your tongue as you teeter the line of mind-numbing ecsasty.
It’s so close you can taste it. Eyes clenching shut. Mouth parted ever so slightly as fingers curl into the fabric bunched at your thighs. But right before the peak of pleasure can wash over you, the sound of a chair being pulled back draws your attention.
“Well brother,” A voice croons. “What do we have here?”
#acotar x reader#acotar#acotar x you#a court of thorns and roses#cassian acotar#cassian smut#cassian fic#cassian blurb#cassian x you#cassian x reader smut#blurb bar
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CHAPTER THREE PT. II: DIMINISHED CAPACITY ❀ HIGURUMA SENSEI SERIES
masterlist link | mdni! | oopsie, is that... a special banner? gee I wonder if there's something to see at the end of this chapter, huh?
❀ diminished capacity.
Diminished capacity refers to an individual’s impossibility to form the intent necessary for committing any criminal act, because their capacity to fully comprehend the nature of their actions is impaired. It doesn’t, however, completely exclude their responsibility, and they may be held accountable to a lesser offense.
wc: 5.5K ❀ pairing for the series: professor!higuruma x student!reader
❀ tags and c/w.
non-curse au. college au. slow-burn romcom. professor and college student pre-relationship. internship interviews suck. nobara likes to steal food from people. mentions of hypothetical violent crime. nanami gets pestered by gojo even here. higuruma likes sunflowers. nanami has a sixth sense.
❀ notes etc.
Apologies to any colleagues reading the word “evidence” in place of “proof” and feeling like tackling me with a broom, lol. Also, a huge thanks to everyone who came around for part one, I hope you guys get to enjoy reading this just as much I enjoyed writing it.
Argh… Monday.
Internship hunt was hell. There was no other way to spin that wheel. You knew it’d be incredibly hard, but not this hard.
Mondays were cursed days, but to know that not only cursed, they’d also start with terrible interviews — plural — was not in your bingo card for this week. Between oh, you just started criminal law I this semester? and we will let you know laid the crumbling sounds of your utmost despair of knowing full well you were in for a ride for those next few days.
Well, if only daydreaming about him could save you.
It didn’t, though.
Unfortunately.
You arrived at the campus cafeteria where you were supposed to meet Nobara. Even on a fairly uncomfortable chair, she slouched nearly enough to slide down onto the ground like a rag doll, and it didn’t take you much to realize these past few days were throwing her through the wringer too.
“You look like death,” you joked as you pulled your chair to sit with her, putting your tuna sandwich and can of soda over the table.
“And you look like… like… hmph,” she scoffed while rolling her eyes and propping herself back up again.
“No snarky comeback? Are you that tired?”
“Leave me alone,” she replied, and apparently, she really wasn’t in the mood for playful banter. You took a bite out of your sandwich, pondering if you should ask her about it, but she beat you to it. “Why is getting internships this early in college is so damn hard?”
“Apparently, places don’t trust complete newbies or youngsters,” you noted, “and they want someone who has already studied all the necessary subjects prior to hiring. Also, people with prior experience are preferred.”
“Yet these are internship opportunities! Aren’t interns supposed to be newbies who are going to learn from the experience they’ll get through the internship?” Nobara irritatedly inquired, her implied commentary more a complaint than a question. You nodded.
“Absolutely. It makes no sense, it’s like they’re just trying to hire a junior lawyer with less rights and a lower pay rate,” you churned out through your mouthful of tuna and mayonnaise, “now that I think about it, it’s probably that, actually.”
“I can’t go back home! I mean, I made it all the way here. If I had to go back I would never get over this. I need some money, and I need some money soon, otherwise this will all just have been a waste of my time. I should just get a part time job already instead of insisting in starting my internship as fast as possible.”
Nobara covered her face, and she sounded genuinely upset. You paused your munching for a bit, and after washing it all down with a few gulps of soda, you leaned towards her, pulling her hands from her face.
“Hey, Nobara, we’re not letting that happen, okay? Neither me, Maki, Yuuji or Megumi.” you offered in an attempt to comfort her. She let you peel her palms away, and gazed at you in a mixture of frustration and anger, which softly subsided after your comment. You decided to push your luck, just a bit. “We can refugee you in Megumi’s car. We’ll get you a hammer so you can hit passerbies for shits and giggles to let some collegiate steam out.”
Consternated, she shook your hands off of her while you chuckled. She made her best effort to still look pissed, but you noticed a tiny smile forming on the edges of her mouth.
“That’s a shit plan, but I’ll take you up on that hammer offer,” she said, and you smiled at her, a gesture she finally reciprocated.
“I’d expect no less from you. So, tell me, in which area are you looking for internships? Fashion law?”
“Nope, entertainment.” Nobara picked your half eaten sandwich in her hands and took a bite before you could protest. “Maki had told me it was easier to get internships in entertainment law to garner some experience for a future in fashion law, but honestly? I’m skeptical now.”
“There might be some openings soon. Have you tried Professor Gojo’s firm? It’s the same as Professor Nanami’s, isn’t it? I mean, that giant firm with dozens of departments and that nearly every teacher at our college seems to work for.” You stretched your hand to get your sandwich back, but she slapped you away. “Hey!”
“I need it more than you, I’m sad!”
“I’m sad too! I had four terrible internship interviews today, give it back!”
You both entered a silly slapping match, and the few people walking past the table would look away nervously in fear of getting dragged into the middle of whatever war was going on over a cheap cafeteria tuna sandwich.
“You were having interviews today too?! How come you never told me?! I’m gonna eat your food for not telling me stuff, you’ve been weird ever since that party that you went off for a smoke and dipped!” She took another humongous bite and you jumped over the table, finally snatching whatever remained of your food out of her hands.
“I haven’t been weird!” you had, “and yes, I did. I am interviewing for internship openings in criminal law, but… well, you’ve been through that these days yourself. You know the drill.”
She grunted with tuna smeared around her mouth, trying to reach for the rest of your sandwich, and it was your turn to slap her.
“Stop it, Nobara. Quit being so stingy and buy one for yourself!”
“Not when I can eat your food for free,” she joked while taking a big gulp from your soda can, and you sighed, which only gave her a shit eating grin. “Did you interview for that spot they announced today?”
“What? What opening?”
“I just saw it, there was a new flyer on the main hall board. It’s an internship for criminal law, apparently under the guidance of Professor Geto,” Nobara said while shrugging. “Apparently the huge firm now has a criminal law department too. It was announced last week or so.”
“Did it say up until when they were taking applications?”
***
Each and every tendon in your body tensed as you sat with the perfect lady-like crossed ankles at the 45º angle under your second-hand suit. The meeting room was, for the lack of a better word, mighty, having an entire glass wall peering into the rest of the office, and towered over you high enough to have you feeling like a tiny speck of dust humbly drifting its way over the clearly expensive brown, leather couch. A few people walked by as you waited, and the mahogany table seemed big enough to fit three people. It was probably worth your entire year’s tuition, and you wondered if the ceiling height really needed to be tailored for elves. Or ents. Tree people, perhaps.
The firm’s name hung high right in front of you, the logo and letters made out of stainless steel illuminated by LEDs behind it. Opulence wasn’t a big enough word to describe that pompous display of corporate wealth.
You were fished out of your rags to riches daydreams by the pivoting door opening, figuring it was your interviewer for the position.
Surprisingly, it wasn’t the already well-known foxy-eyed, long haired Professor to come in, but a much more stoic individual with the polar opposite for a hair, not only in length but in color too. You already knew him from afar, as your commercial law Professor. He carried himself in a dignified manner, and upon further inspection, not only was his navy blue suit absolutely pristine, he also didn’t have a single hair strand out of place. You got up to greet him, bowing respectfully, and he returned the gesture.
“Good afternoon, Mrs.,” he said as he sat down on his chair across from you, “my name is Nanami Kento and I’ll be responsible for your interview today.”
You introduced yourself, and remarked, “apologies, but I thought Prof- I mean, Mr. Geto would be the one responsible for this interview today.”
“As it stands currently, the criminal law department is my responsibility,” Nanami clarified, “so I decided I’d be the one responsible for interviewing our future team. I currently work in our corporate law department.”
You acquiesced with a professional smile. Something about how every tiny detail in him was on point gave you enough leads to conclude that of course this man took it upon himself to be the one responsible for the interviews.
“I’ve read in your resume that you are currently undertaking criminal law I and criminal procedure law I,” Nanami said as he held your resume in his hand, glancing at you and then at the paper, “which isn’t ideal for an intern entering a newly built department.”
Harsh enough?
You readjusted yourself on your chair before speaking.
“Yes, I am.”
He hummed quietly and pulled another paper sheet from his briefcase, and even if his facial expression was perfectly collected, something about how the edges of his lips curled gave away that he was less than happy about whatever was written on it.
“Our HR insisted I should bring this questionnaire with me today, so that I could ask you this list of questions as part of our interview,” he stated, his words followed by a quiet sigh. Nanami then proceeded to tilt the paper towards him and took a moment before proceeding. “Tell me more about yourself in three… captivating anecdotes.”
His voice sounded robotic, as if he was feigning not to loathe the question at hand, and deep down, you did find it amusing. Not enough to distract yourself from the fact that you were usually horrible at interviews altogether, though.
“I’m currently in my late twenties. I started law school last year, and worked during my early twenties to save money for tuition. I’m really passionate about criminal law, that is why I applied.”
Oh, God. What was that?
Well, you sounded robotic too, listing off obvious factualities as if providing a recipe’s ingredients. Both of you stared at each other in silence, wondering if that was what this question was supposed to infer, and it took the two of you so long to speak up again that it became uncomfortable.
Clearing his throat, Nanami unconsciously loosened his tie — barely — before continuing.
Well, at least I’m not the only one who’s uncomfortable.
“What…” he paused for a moment, and seemed to be biting down a discontented sigh, “animal would you be?” His gaze quickly darted down the sheet of paper, and his displeasure was palpable. For someone with such a straight face, his eyes were very telling.
What are these questions? Are we a hip tech company? Nanami thought to himself, wondering if he should make a new list to leave at HR. He was quick to discard the thought once he realized that meant he’d be telling other people how to do their jobs, something he did enough of already.
You didn’t quite know what the hell to answer.
“I… don’t know? I haven’t really thought about that in my life? A cat, perhaps?”
“I haven’t thought about that either, don’t worry, that’s unimportant. Let’s move on to the next question. How…” Nanami lifted an eyebrow, and that alone was enough to tell he was absolutely consternated, “many basketballs can fit inside a bus?”
“… Huh?”
Is this serious?
“I apologize, I believe there must have been some sort of mix-up at the HR, let me…”
Nanami was interrupted by three knocks on the glass wall. You both turned your heads to see Professor Gojo pointing at something — the paper Nanami held in his hands — while subsequently making a thumbs up, a wide grin smeared all over his face.
Without uttering a word nor missing a beat, Nanami got up, walked towards the glass and pulled on something you hadn’t yet noticed. Immediately, blinds slowly descended in front of the glass wall, and Nanami calmly walked his way back to his chair as Gojo’s face tried to keep peering inside the meeting room, descending alongside the rim of the blinds. He kept plastering his hands over the glass like a mimic.
A faint pained moan and a thud echoed once the blinds were about a foot away from reaching the floor.
“Is everything okay?” you inquired, pointing at Gojo’s direction.
“Ignore that.”
That wasn’t a request. You nodded.
“Yes, sir.”
“Perfect. Let’s also ignore this for a while,” Nanami remarked while putting the sheet of questions aside with his fingertips as if it was radioactive. “Let’s try something else.”
Nanami had this feeling — a familiar one — that he’d be able to pry from you what he needed to know if he went about this interview in a more practical fashion. It reminded him of someone, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.
“I’m going to describe a hypothetical scenario, and I want you to debate it with me,” he stated.
“Okay.”
“A client comes to this office being investigated of homicide and he wants to hire the firm to represent them in Court. They intend to plead not guilty.” you nodded, and Nanami continued, “The victim was shot, but there was no gun to be found in the crime scene. However, the client was the only person in the vicinity apart from the victim’s body. The client’s clothes — a long sleeved shirt and jeans — are evidence that has been collected at the crime scene, but no forensics were requested for it by the prosecution. When questioned in their first meeting, the client is adamant that they did not commit the crime. The attorney needs to decide which path to take regarding evidence they’ll request or submit. Now, I ask you, which type of evidence would the attorney request if the client is truly innocent?”
You took a deep breath while mentally going over the hypothetical scenario Nanami had just relayed, and considering all he mentioned, there was only one possibility.
“If my client was truly innocent, I’d ask for forensic evidence on their clothes. Guns leave gunpowder vestiges on things like clothes, so if this person didn’t actually pull the trigger, there should be no gunpowder on their sleeves.”
Nanami acquiesced, but remained silent.
Ok, this is not the only thing he wants to know.
“Also… I’d tell exactly that to the client.”
Nanami’s face remained completely expressionless, but something about how he tilted his head less than an inch gave you the feeling that he seemed pleased with your answer.
“And why would you do that?”
“We need to work with accurate information. If the client was lying, and we submitted a request for that evidence — forensics on their clothes — we’d be tanking their defense. They need to know what we’ll be submitting as evidence and why. I believe telling that to our client would be enough to sway them into telling us the truth,” you sighed, before concluding, “people lie. Even when they shouldn’t.”
Nanami silently picked your resume back into his hands, and seemed to scan it quickly with his eyes. You knew your chances were slim, considering you had just started Criminal Law that very semester, something he didn’t fail to notice.
After a minute, he spoke again.
“Would you be willing to use some of your spare time to study topics you might not have seen yet in criminal law?”
“Yes.”
Your heart was thumping in your chest. This was it.
Here goes nothing.
“Then, it’s settled. Can you start on Monday?”
***
This wasn’t Higuruma’s usual go-to wish when he found himself behind the Passo’s wheel, but truth of the matter was, he hoped more than anything for his car to breakdown before he got to his destination. It wasn’t something completely out of the question considering his car’s track record, but as if some destiny’s mockery had been bestowed upon him that morning, even the clack-clack-clacks he was already used to hear for the past three months were gone. As Murphy’s Law would have it, the Passo glided over the asphalt like butter.
“Of course you won’t fail me when I need you to, you unreliable piece of-”he muttered to himself under a discontented huff.
Put upon wasn’t strong enough to convey how Higuruma was feeling, his knuckle-white grip around the steering wheel being enough to give him a sharp pain in his palms that would surely follow him for the next few hours. In a sense, he had been knuckle-white tense ever since that morning, thinking about this endeavor he was kicking himself to push through. It was the nth time he’d tried to make that visit over the past year, one that he dreaded with each and every fiber of his being.
The Professor eyed his passenger’s seat for a second, his gaze lingering on the plastic bag he carried with him that day. Inside, there were a bottle of Kirin, an incense, and a single sunflower. The flower was definitely too long to fit properly inside the bag, and it’s head peeped though the opening, yellow petals flickering while the car moved, every ridge on the road seemingly making it jump further and further out of its container.
With one hand on the wheel, and the other reaching out, he tried shoving the sunflower back into the bag, and in between eyeing the bag, then the road, picking the flower, pushing it, the bag sliding off the seat, loud news coming on the radio, Higuruma getting startled, his glasses slipping down his nose bridge, him pushing them back in place with his shoulder, tires screeching, a car horn, his heart pounding and his ears ringing, Higuruma came to the sensible conclusion that he should, as any responsible adult would, take a break.
I need a smoke.
Who he was visiting was definitely not going anywhere.
Checking where he was, Higuruma noticed a cafe nearby, and as fate would have it, there was a single parking spot right in front of it. He maneuvered the Passo, and the car fit neatly in between the white lines. Higuruma pulled his sunflower shawl — this time, not caught under any death trap, but laid over his back seat alongside your scarf —, threw it around his neck and got out. He took a moment to stretch his fingers in the cold air, his breath clouding in front of his mouth, and tapped around his coat to take his wallet, finally inserting some coins into the park meter and crossing the guardrail by the sidewalk.
He’d have exactly thirty minutes to get his shit together.
The cafe was warm, inviting, and strangely familiar, its orange light almost emanating the smell of coffee beans, croissants and decadent redemption for weary travelers. The store front had a glass display through which he saw an assortment of sweet and salty baked goods. Higuruma would probably pick one of those to eat — the greasiest one, if possible —, had he not been carrying a rock in place of his stomach for the past few hours.
With his resolution waning, he mindlessly took a step back while peeping, and sighed, his tired sigh weighing on his body deciding for him that an espresso was probably the way to go.
Stepping inside, Higuruma paid no mind to whatever was around him, and waited for his turn in line to order his drink. Across from him, you nearly choked, half a donut shoved into your powdered-sugar smeared mouth, nearly spilling your own coffee over your second-hand suit.
After your interview, you thought it’d be a good idea to have a snack, and made your way inside the closest, warmest, coziest cafe you found, which was across the firm.
At that moment, you found yourself in a cliché adult life predicament — you just saw someone you knew, but they didn’t see you. Should you go over to greet them? Should you not? Would simply leaving be rude? Should you go actually talk to the man you definitely had — and shouldn’t have — a crush on?
You clutched your coffee harder as the thoughts flew around in your mind, as second nature at this point to avoid giving him another beverage shower.
After some quick consideration, you decided you would at least say hello, after all, it was the polite thing to do. You shoved the rest of your food into your mouth, washed it all down with the rest of your coffee, haphazardly cleaned around your mouth with a napkin and slowly walked towards him, stopping a few feet away. Somehow, he still hadn’t seen you, apparently too immersed in thought.
That was when you noticed a shawl around his neck.
It was pretty damn ugly.
“Professor, hi!” you greeted, and Higuruma got yanked out of whatever daydreams — or waking nightmares — he had been simmering in while waiting in line.
“Oh, hello. I didn’t expect to meet anyone here,” Higuruma replied, “I just stopped by for a snack.”
“Oh, nice. Their coffee is pretty good,” you said, “I got the espresso.”
“And… I hope that you’re finished already? With your coffee, I mean.” he asked while checking your hands, his usually unaffected tone slightly playful, earning him a chuckle from you.
“Rest assured, I’m not assaulting you nor your ugly shawl with my coffee,” you quipped, but his eyes only widened. His owlish eyes blinked once, and then twice, in absolute silence.
That was when you realized.
Oh. I said that out loud.
“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”
“Awfully hypocritical of both of us, huh?” he noted, with a discreet smile pulling on his lips.
Relieved, realizing he hadn’t taken offense, you sheepishly returned his smile, “I guess so. I don’t think I’ll get to keep being hypocritical about our ugly scarfs, though. I can’t seem to find mine, it’s been gone ever since that party.”
It was like a light bulb went on in Higuruma’s mind, and he cleared his throat before saying, “well, I may just prove you wrong. Follow me.”
Not fully understanding what he meant by that, you stood by him while he paid for his coffee, got it and walked outside. The cold winter breeze prickled your cheeks and your uncovered neck like hair-thin razor blades, and you followed Higuruma towards a car that wasn’t all that strange to you. Upon further inspection, you noticed that it was indeed his car, the old navy blue beat up thing you used as a shield for the wind during that night when you tried and failed at least half a dozen times to light a cigarette.
And then met him, and gave him a vodka scare.
And helped patting him dry with your-
“Here,” he called out, opening the door to the back seat. Sure enough, you saw that red, frizzly old thing tangled up in a ball.
“My scarf!” you reached inside and took it out, instantly throwing it around your neck. Higuruma noticed how you were genuinely pleased to have finally found it, and thought to himself that he’d most likely feel the same way if he ever lost and found his beat up, old shawl.
It was just one of those things imbued with a sense of history and familiarity that only beat up, old tokens from days past had.
“Thank you,” you whispered, while sliding your fingers through the worn out cotton. “It was a gift. I might complain about it more often than not, but-”
“But it’s an important part of your life,” he replied, and you both glanced at each other while you nodded.
“Yes. Something like that. It’s my favorite curse to carry around while complaining about it, you know?” you mused, adjusting it around your neck and gratefully welcoming the warmth it brought around your neck.
“I think I do,” he answered finally, taking a sip from his coffee.
“Let me repay you,” you offered. “Can I offer you a snack, or anything? Perhaps a smoke?”
“I’ll take you up on that cigarette offer,” he replied, and you pulled your pack out of your coat. Giving it a few taps, a cigarette popped up, and you took it in your lips, pulling another one and handing it to him.
Against his better judgement, Higuruma was slightly disappointed, and for a second, felt like kicking himself over it.
Idiot, you can’t seriously be expecting her to light a cigarette for me every time she offers you a smoke. Actually, I shouldn’t expect that at all.
Against his will, Higuruma felt his cheeks warming up, and he tried his best to dive his face into his shawl while politely took the cigarette off your hands. You didn’t notice his moves and offered him your lighter — the same yellow, disposable one he had given you days ago. He picked it up, lit his cigarette and returned it.
“I see you still have it,” Higuruma noted, smiling gently, and you acquiesced.
“It has been my faithful companion for these past few weeks. I’m just glad I haven’t lost it like I lost my scarf,” you said before chuckling.
Higuruma leaned over the guardrail with his elbows, finally relaxing after… God knows how long. Slowly, he seemed to be getting lost in thought, and you seized the opportunity to better look at his shawl. It had a sunflower pattern that went in a straight line right in front of it.
Still looking around as he stewed in his silent contemplations, you noticed there was a bag laying on top of his passenger’s seat. Peeping through it, stood a single sunflower, and what seemed to be the top of a Kirin bottle.
A sunflower man, hm?
The thought amused you as the corners of your mouth perked up in a gleeful smile, but you were quickly pulled out from it.
“Do you work nearby?” he asked, while taking a drag from his cigarette. “This is far from campus.”
“No. I mean, not yet. I was just… chasing my dreams,” you remarked, puffing some smoke. “What about you, Professor?”
Higuruma chuckled softly.
“I was being haunted by mine.”
You must’ve looked puzzled, because he quickly amended, “I was just on my way to visit someone and took a break for some coffee, that’s all.”
“Oh, I see,” you replied, realizing you were probably getting in his way. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to keep you from your appointment. I-”
“It’s okay, there’s no one waiting for me. Or so I like to think.”
That comment left you with more questions than answers.
“Apologies. I don’t mean to keep you from going about the rest of your day too,” he bid behind a curtain of smoke, “and thank you for the cigarette. I really needed it.”
With your final puffs, you put your cigarette out and smiled at Higuruma.
“It’s okay, Professor. I should really get going, though. We are, indeed, far from campus and I’d like to get to my dorm before it’s dark.”
With a bow, you walked away, leaving Higuruma to his own devices. He sighed, alone with himself and his thoughts once again, turning his attention once more to the bag he had inside his car.
“Hiromi,” a familiar voice called out. Higuruma turned around, only to be met by Nanami, who had a indecipherable expression on his face.
Minutes before, Nanami decided to visit the nearby cafe and check if they had his favorite casse croûte that day. He wouldn’t mind getting a croissant, though.
Upon stepping outside his building with dreams of pastries swirling around his overworked mind, he noticed you and Higuruma outside the cafe, and figured that was the perfect opportunity to approach you both and introduce you as the new intern for the criminal law department. It was just a matter of time before Higuruma accepted his offer, as Nanami thought, and you’d be both working together. However, before he could, Nanami noticed you and Higuruma were chatting, and not only that, but you approached Higuruma’s car and got something — apparently belonging to you — from his back seat. The ugliest red scarf Nanami had ever seen.
… What?
Nanami then remembered that you were a student on the very same university he tended to.
The same one in which Higuruma was a teacher too.
Why does Hiromi have things belonging to a student in the backseat of his car, of all places?
Nanami was at a loss for words, and faltered for a few moments, wondering how he should ask Hiromi about this. That is, if he even should ask Hiromi about anything at all. Nanami decided to watch from afar, and something about the way Higuruma was carrying himself bothered Nanami.
He had only seen his best friend behaving like that in very specific scenarios, ones in which Hiromi definitely shouldn’t be interacting with a student of his.
After you left, Kento finally walked towards Hiromi, still uncertain if he should question his friend about the nature of your relationship with him. He could be imagining things.
But something was definitely disturbing him, he was sure of it. Something he couldn’t quite put a finger on.
“Kento, hi! Oh… I had forgotten, your firm is nearby, isn’t it?” Hiromi asked while looking around. “Sorry, I always seem to forget where it is. That explains why this cafe felt so familiar. Care for a smoke?”
“No.”
“You haven’t smoked with me in a long time,” Higuruma offered, pulling his own cigarette pack from his coat’s inner pocket.
“I quit years ago,” Nanami reminded him, trying to put an end to this conversation detour.
“You still smoke on special occasions,” Higuruma offered, “eh, I wish I had your resolve.”
“You do, you just fail to direct it at things that will benefit you in the long run.”
“Just my little human shortcoming, I guess,” Higuruma finally replied, sparing Nanami a soft smile. He walked towards his car while unlocking it, “Let’s have something to eat, the coffee opened up my appetite. I just need to get more coins in case I end up going over the meter’s time limit, hold on.”
“Hiromi,” Nanami said once again, his tone graver than usual. That caught Higuruma’s attention.
“Hm, is everything okay?” Higuruma asked while leaning into his car.
Before Nanami could go on with his planned line of inquiry, he noticed what was over passenger’s seat. Especially the sunflower.
“Are you at it again?” Nanami asked, gesturing with his head towards it.
“Ah, you saw it…” Higuruma commented, as if he was a child being caught red handed while making a mess out of the house. “Well, yes. I’m trying to, and failing at it once again.”
“You know you don’t have to go, right?” Kento offered, while pulling some change from his pocket. “I have coins, we’ll be fine. Let me get you a snack, this cafe has the best casse croute around.”
“I do have to go, though,” Higuruma closed the door and stepped back onto the sidewalk. “I should, at least.”
Higuruma’s earlier energy seemed to wane ever so slightly, his shoulders falling while he slouched, unconsciously making himself smaller.
“I don’t think I’ll manage to do it today, either,” he finally said, his eyes low on his feet, and his voice barely above a whisper.
Assessing the situation, it was clear that Higuruma was in no way in the right mindset to have that conversation regarding you, so Nanami put a mental note on it to ask about it at a later time. He stepped beside Hiromi and put a hand gently on his shoulder, sighing.
“Is it low tar?” Nanami questioned, clearing his throat to disguise his displeasure.
“Hm, what?”
“Your cigarette. Is it low tar?”
Higuruma huffed, a tiny smile forming on his lips as he said, “yes, yes it is.”
In a smooth motion, Higuruma pulled his pack back out of his coat and took two cigarettes out of it, handing one to Nanami along with a lighter. With the disposition of a man ready to face the electric chair, Kento pursed his lips around the cigarette, and lit it, only to be thrown in a coughing fit moments later.
“How the mighty do fall,” Higuruma noted with a discreet smirk on his lips, “you used to smoke more than me.”
“Shut up,” Nanami managed to churn out in between coughs, “this brand is awful.”
His friend chuckled while taking one long drag from his cigarette.
“Hey, Kento.”
“What?” Nanami considered tossing the cigarette as far as he could, but tried his best to survive it, even if just for Hiromi’s benefit.
“Is that offer still on the table? To…” Hiromi paused for a moment, clearing his throat, “hm, work in your firm?”
Managing to get his throat and lungs under control, Nanami glanced at Hiromi, knowing full well that good things came to those who wait.
Just like he had.
“Yes. Why do you ask?”
Hi, did you know I like to shamelessly plug people's work? No? So, yeah. I love doing that.
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It’s the holiday season, and I know most of you may be spending an extended period of time with family and friends. So, kind-hearted as I am, I thought I would take a moment to remind you that while you’re spending quality time with them...
Husk Edition
Not to think about Husk sitting next to you at the dinner table, listening along to whatever conversation is playing out around you. He’s working hard not to look so damn sullen – Charlie had managed to track down half the hotel’s actual families for the occasion, yours among them. The two of you might not be so into labels, might not be announcing any time soon what you have between you to the people sitting opposite you, but he still finds himself worrying that they won’t approve.
Don’t think about him sipping at glass of wine or whiskey as he listens to you try and justify whatever crap they’re judging you for now, his other hand making a slow, familiar journey up over your thigh.
You’re not to think about the way it starts out innocently enough – a calming reassurance against the scattered stress of the high holidays. But as the meal carries on into seconds and thirds and the both of you had had a little more than you should to drink, his hand wanders higher, his own anxieties soothed by the feel of your warm skin against his heart-shaped palm.
Don’t think about him kneading into the flesh of your thigh, the softest of purrs rumbling through his chest – barely audible over the dull roar of warring conversations. His claws digging lightly into your skin, ghosting up just under the hem of the dress you wore to make your mother happy. You can feel the soft breeze of his tail twitching back and forth by your ankle, notice the soft tilt of his lips as you glance at him out of the corner of your eye.
Don’t think of him retracting his claws to tease those long fingers delicately over your inner thigh, or the way that soft smirk twitches wider when you feel yourself part your legs instinctively to his touch. Husk will accept another drink with ease – for once not the bastard who has to serve the drinks – and you’ll have to force your voice not to catch as you tell Niffty that yes, you would like some pie. No, you’ll keep it steady even as you swallow back the whimper that threatens when Husk tugs your underwear to the side and runs a fingertip up against you.
Don’t think about how satisfied he’ll be to find you wet, how his ear will flick greedily towards you to catch that little hitch in your breath as he brushes a finger against your clit. He didn’t intend to do this… he’s not a total creep… but how can he resist when your lips part that way at his touch, your teeth grazing your bottom lip? At the scent of your growing excitement teases at his senses, overpowers the rich smells of the dinner spread across the table. All he can do is thank fuck that Niffty had dressed the table with a long, wide tablecloth that spills out over your laps, and hope you keep letting him get away with this.
Don’t think about the way Husk’s hand is going to feel between your legs; those slow, gentle touches that send those addictive little sparks swirling into the pit of your stomach. The way your hand will clench too tightly around your fork as you try to busy yourself with your food, try to appear like everything is normal even as you begin to desperately wish you could grab him by the arm and drag him off to the nearest private room so you can fuck him until you’ve forgotten all about the guests of honour.
Don’t think about Husk leaning across you as though to reach for the basket of bread rolls, just so that he can murmur in your ear how wet you are, how much he wishes he could bend you over the table right here and taste you. You’ll shudder – whether its because of his words or the way he slides a finger into you, who could tell? His nose just manages to brush against your cheek as he sits back again, and it’ll take everything you have not to turn your head to chase his lips for a kiss.
Don’t think about the way Husk will finger you slowly, steadily, pausing only when people’s eyes begin to linger on you for a moment too long. His thumb teasing against your clit and your face flushing with heat the more you try to keep yourself calm. Your breathing quickens and you’ll swear you can taste blood from where your teeth have been digging into your lip.
Don’t think about the way Husk’s own breathing will grow unsteady when you reach over to clutch at his thigh under the table, shifting your hips as subtly as you can against his hand. It’s amazing you don’t tear his pants with the way you’re gripping at his leg, and Husk’s tail curls around your calf, and he has to dampen his purr with another whiskey.
Don’t think about how badly he’ll wish he could fuck you. To kiss you even… to feel you moan against his tongue. He wants to taste you… to suck your sweetness off his fingers or to better yet, bury his face btween your thighs and feel them squeeze around his ears as he assaults your clit with his tongue.
And whatever you do, don’t think about how goddamned pleased the bartender will look when you finally cum, your body jerking enough that you knock the table and the cutlery rattles against the wood. Just how quickly do you think you’d be able to make enough excuses so you can get the both of you away from the table and back to his room for round two?
#husk#husk fic#my fic#husk x reader#husk hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel husk#hazbin husk x reader#hazbin husk
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hollowed angel
pairing: gojo satoru x reader synopsis: you, a former death angel curse, were exorcised by the hands of gojo satoru. but thousands of years later, you unexpectedly reincarnate into a mortal sorcerer's body. as you navigate your new life with your past executioner, you learn what it means to be both curse and human, and realize that perhaps the line between the two is not as clear as you once thought. tags: angst, fluff, romance, former curse! reader, high school! gojo satoru, canon-typical violence, depression and loneliness, black holes and physics, will update tags as chapters progress word count: 2.4k
masterlist
chapter 1: rebirth
The moonlight illuminated the full expanse of your wings, casting a gleam off their metallic surface. Blades were to be more precise, except they didn’t clang or scratch against each other when you walked. They moved together in one unit, fluid and seamless.
You were draped in a black silk tunic, the hem frayed to shredded ribbons as if caught and torn by your own wings. An opaque, black veil concealed your face, hiding features either too sacred or cursed to be seen. Above you, your halo hung, not golden or heavenly, but a black hole. Its event horizon glowed silver, encircling a pitch black singularity.
A man with matted, dark hair and fatigued lines etched into his face lied before you, half conscious and half buried in pain. A victim, but not in a simple sense. “Victim” implied someone who was in need of saving, and yet there was an agency in his surrender. What did he need saving from? Himself? The burden of his failures, or the world’s? Or perhaps you, a hollow figure of salvation, ready to strip him bare of what little light he clung to.
Stranded in the vast ocean of his problems, he could not conceptualize making it back to shore when there was no clear direction forward. And when the tides finally pulled him under, he hadn't fought the current. Instead, he opened his lungs to the saltwater, letting it fill him until gravity overcame buoyancy, until he was thoroughly poisoned by hopelessness.
But from beneath, he saw it. The silver light of her halo refracting and dispersing everywhere in the water. He saw hope. He saw her.
You knelt beside him. Dark, heavy fog crept in tendrils, not from the thick atmosphere of the forest, but from the body itself. Suffocating shrouds of cursed energy leaked steadily, like rain streaking through a dilapidated roof. A single talon traced the curvature of his forehead, the skin splitting and forming a thin line of blood. A halo of his own. The air around him rippled, cursed energy now seeping heavily from the wound. You drank deeply, drawing his pain into yourself. It was not just sustenance; it was essence. Pain marred so deeply into his soul that it had fused with his being. He had become his scars.
And when you drank his sorrow, you took a part of him that would never return. In his next life, he would be free from that pain, reborn anew, but incomplete. A blessing and a curse. But his pain was neither truly lost or destroyed. It simply transferred mediums, absorbed into your being and wove itself into the fabric of your existence. Every soul you consumed, no matter how disparate their pasts, shared a common thread: isolation. Their isolation became yours and had carved into you until you were no longer whole. You were never meant to be anything more than a hollowed angel, a vessel of pain, feeding but never filled.
The man stirred, a shallow groan escaping his cracked lips. His body convulsed, hacking violently until a single silver feather emerged from the pool of black bile spilling from his mouth. You picked it up and studied it briefly, before sliding it seamlessly into place in your wings. The remnant of a human turned hollow shell. Another piece added to your collection.
──────⊹⊱✫⊰⊹──────
It’s warm. The wordless thought drifted through you, your first in a millennium. Sunlight enveloped your body, coaxing you out of that suspended state of nothingness. Nothingness was not cold or numb; it was absence of being. You had stopped being. Consciousness and sensation vanished for an immeasurable amount of time. Now, the singular warmth that seeped into your nothingness became your everything. There was no struggle to catch it, to hold it close to your chest when being was the only thing you could manage to do.
“She’s here! We found her!” Voices shouted from a distance but didn’t quite reach your newly formed consciousness.
“She’s breathing. Her cursed energy is faint but it’s still there.” Too loud. You curled further into yourself, hoping you could return back to nothingness.
“Gojo was right. The energy’s coming off in circular wave patterns…” Gojo. The name rang like a bell snuffed short. A fleeting thought passed. I’m going to die again, aren’t I? It left as quickly as it came.
“Are you okay?” Now you could hear and think properly, senses returning slowly but surely. You can see me? The words died from your tongue. You stared up at the head looming over you. Bulky glasses didn’t quite fit his narrow, sharp face, but his eyes were earnest and concerned— a look you were unfamiliar with.
You wordlessly let yourself be guided to a… carriage? No, a car, some sort of vehicle you didn’t recognize, but your new body did. Stuffed inside with Glasses and a girl chewing the paper casing of a cigarette, you felt both cramped and overstimulated. You needed space to process the new world, people and technology. Not cages, cars, or anymore voices trying to dig out information that you didn’t have.
Cursed energy, barely there, thrummed faintly, nowhere near the levels of your previous form. It should’ve been only a matter of time before your wings regenerated, but they didn’t. Soon enough, you thought to yourself. Soon enough, you could put the person who tried to reduce you into something weak and powerless into their place. Soon enough, you could summon your halo and become restored—
Except there was no halo.
It had always been connected to you, a branch extended from the trunk of your very being. But now, that connection was severed. Gone. No signal, no pulse, no light. A void in and of itself.
This had to be some sort of mistake. You, a curse, trapped in some helpless, fragile human vessel? It was wrong, wrong, wrong. You didn’t belong in that other frivolous world of non-sorcerers. The whole notion was incompatible, an error of Mother Nature.
A choked gasp left your throat as if you had finally re-emerged from years underwater. Hands clenching and unclenching, you fixated on the crescents caving into your very human flesh. The skin yielded too easily, hot blood rushing to the surface. There were no wings to break free from this prison, no halo to signal your divinity, no powers to bend the world to your will. This was a human body— fragile, mortal, and unbearably real.
Instinct— or was it panic?— finally, finally awakened, bubbling, overflowing, and drowning out any and all thought. Not yet, not again, you barely had a chance to relish the fleeting warmth before it was ripped away from these oh-so-’righteous’ sorcerers. But to you, there was nothing righteous about it. It was terribly, horribly wrong. Hands flew up to the handle, frantically twisting and tugging, but the lock held firm. They trapped you, were going to lock you up, and—
“Sorry, Miss! I locked it so you can’t leave. And it isn’t advisable to jump out of a moving vehicle.”
“I could heal her,” the girl chimed in, her voice light and almost teasing. “But it would be rather inconvenient.” She tilted her head, watching you curiously as if you were a puppy pawing at the latch of its crate.
“Don’t forget that the real reason you came with us was to heal in the scenario that she was actually injured, Shoko.”
‘Shoko’ tapped her chin thoughtfully and nodded her head. “Yeah, you’re right. It was quite concerning that her cursed energy output was very low, even lower than yours.” He flushed bright red and glared while Shoko lazily smiled. You wondered if you were really what they said you were.
──────⊹⊱✫⊰⊹──────
As the car door swung open, sunlight flooded your retinas and made the dull ache in your head throb.
“We can treat that for ya. After we talk to Yaga first,” Shoko offered, holding out her hand.
Your nose scrunched in distaste, a small scowl tugging at your lips. Humans never offered anything without expecting something in return. It didn’t matter if they were sorcerer or non-sorcerer; they were all the same. They take and take, only to give as a means to take more. Nothing was ever free. There were always strings attached, invisible yet tying you to their expectations for repayment.
“Ehhh? Don’t be like that now,” Shoko drawled, yet slightly amused. “Let’s go meet some new people who can help you… though you may not like them very much.”
Before you could protest, her hand clasped yours, and she pulled you up in one smooth motion. Your legs wobbled, threatening to give out beneath you. But Shoko steadied you, her grip firm and supportive.
She walked you through the gates, her arm linked through yours so you wouldn’t fall. Someone was waiting, had been expecting your arrival.
“Huh. So you’re the little shit that blipped onto my radar.” Your head jerked backwards, the voice all too familiar. Bells rang, distance couldn’t snuff them out. Harsh sounds, memories, and feelings reverberated, stirring something deep inside you, a visceral urge to detonate. Black fumed the edges of your vision. Smoke from the fire he flamed. There he stood, hands planted firmly on angled hips with that cocky smirk you couldn’t wait to claw off his face. You ripped yourself free from Shoko’s hold and lunged.
You were going to kill Gojo Satoru.
──────⊹⊱✫⊰⊹──────
Wings slashed against the small infinity that divided you and Gojo Satoru, a ripple the only sign of impact. He sauntered closer and snatched the torn veil from your face. He dangled it above you with an amused smile and teleported back before you decided to vortex him into a black hole.
“Not the best fashion statement, but it gets the job done blocking out the light.” He ripped the fabric in two and tossed it behind him carelessly as if it were a dirtied napkin. “You’re kinda cute behind all those layers… surprisingly.”
He liked to do that a lot, you noticed. Liked to provoke you, get some sort of reaction you were hiding behind that damn veil. The worst part was that it worked. Your nose scrunched cutely, to Gojo at least, and he could admire how your cheeks were flushed red because you couldn’t put a dent on him.
Gojo hated how elusive you were, so unlike any other special grade curse he’s slaughtered before. He hated that instead of lashing out and destroying everything in your path, you pretended to be dignified when curses didn’t have dignity. He hated waiting for your next feeding cycle when you finally showed yourself after months of starvation since you knew he’d hunt you down. He’d relish tearing apart your ‘dignified’ front, cracking that flimsy shell and wrenching your soul out.
You laughed, which clearly startled Gojo. He’d never imagined it to sound so hollow, he didn’t know what to expect in the first place. He thought you, your exterior to be precise, was flimsy and spineless! But he didn’t comprehend the magnitude of years and souls sacrificed that solidified your armor. You already knew what he wanted, his plans for you, and you weren’t going to let him have it.
Sneering, you yanked razor-edged feathers from your mass, ignoring how they cut deep into your flesh. You closed the wound without a second thought, but even you weren’t resistant to your own lethality.
“Cursed technique lapse: Bypass.” Feathers shot forward, penetrating only the first layer of his barrier. And that was enough. Force compounded against the rest of Infinity, and the barrier caved inwards. A single point of impact, the weight of Infinity crashing directly into Satoru himself, like gravity collapsing in on its own star.
It was totally unfair how gracefully he tumbled down and quickly he picked himself up.
As another barrage of blades came in an onslaught, his eyes immediately dimmed to a flat blue-grey, Limitless shutting off. He side-stepped casually. You flicked two fingers left, and the feathers followed suit, turning a sharp 90. But Gojo was quicker. He disappeared just as the blades plunged through where he was standing.
You should’ve known it was coming, really. You just didn’t expect it to be so soon.
Pain crackled along the limbs of your wings, nerves screaming in agony as they were uprooted into Blue.
“Still think you can fight me with those?” Gojo teleported behind you. His fingers traced the scapula where skin was seamed with metal. You staggered backward, flinching as a chunk of metal clattered and disintegrated on the ground. The rest of your wings sizzled and eroded.
“My wings—”
“—are a liability,” he interrupted. “They make you an easy target. You can’t hide anymore.”
Your wings were the reservoir of your power, the physical manifestation of the pain you had consumed. Your curse energy dwindled. You tried desperately to summon your halo, but there was nothing, the unyielding flow of energy now a stagnant void.
“You’re still standing,” Gojo smiled widely, ecstatic. “I’d love to watch you fall for me.” He already decided your fate: he’d make you crumble with his own hands.
A sickening snap.
Brute force wrenched your wings upward, metallic blades screeching like nails on glass. Pain erupted down your spine as he twisted the wing further. His grip was immovable, and he drank in the sight of hot and thick blood dripping and pooling onto the ground.
“You’re weaker than I thought,” he said calmly. He tore the wing free, sending shards of cursed metal scattering.
──────⊹⊱✫⊰⊹──────
A scream erupted from your lips.
A single phantom wing unfurled behind you as you lunged. It doubled the length of your arm, grey, opaque, feathers lacking the metallic sheen of your former power. Branching from the wing’s carpal, jagged claws dripped with an inky, viscous substance. It dissipated before it could hit the ground.
It went past Gojo’s Infinity, his entire body, without any resistance. There was no impact. Phantom. Then his chest caved under the force, muscles and bones cracking as the blow tore through him. His chest buckled and ribs splintered, as if his own body were being bent and broken from the inside. Phantom. There was no tangible entity that applied that brutal force. Your real wings were gone, demolished by the man standing tauntingly in front of you. But the invisible claws, dipped in cursed energy, had done the job. It was only a phantom.
You didn’t last to see the strongest sorcerer brought to his knees. The world tilted and came crashing to the ground. Vision blurring and your consciousness fading, you became phantom.
a/n: more character interactions coming in the future. planning to write a few chapters in advanced before posting. thanks for reading! @mysteria157 and @pmpmyread, now you have been tagged twice ;) taglist: @dreamingkitsunewrites @rahuratna @mysteria157 @pmpmyread @celestialceremonials @lov3vivian @lolitamermaid123 @fangirlingtod3ath @ssetsuka
#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jjk fanfic#jujutsu kaisen fanfic#gojo satoru#satoru gojo#jujutsu kaisen satoru#jjk gojo#jjk satoru#jujutsu gojo#jujutsu satoru#satoru gojo x y/n#satoru gojo x you#satoru gojo x reader#gojo satoru x y/n#gojo satoru x you#gojo satoru x reader#jjk angst#jjk fluff#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x y/n#jjk x reader#jjk x you
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The Art of a Slowburn
Besides the commonality of Jon Bernthal playing a partner/brother, there's also the art of the slow burn happening in Twd and the Bear- and yes, I know, different writers can't quite compare. But the art of foreshadowing is always the same. If you didn't see the show spoilers ahead I'll provide a recap if you don't care to watch Twd.
Here's the gist of the show: Rick wakes up from a coma and finds his wife and son. He is fighting off the end of the world and zombies and reunites with his family along the way- his wife dies during childbirth, and literally 3 episodes later, amid Rick's grieving, Michonne arrives.
The matching! They're showing and hinting at the audience early on; these two are a great match.
More matching:
Was it the stares, I wondered? It's something richonners loved to analyze while the burn was slow. Particulary, Rick stares at Michonne like Carmy. They focus on this so you can get a feel of the main character's reaction to their love interest. For me, it's the preceding scenes that hinted at Richonne, and I'll compare them with Sydcarmy in a second:
But check out his flirting- there was much gaslighting on the ship. People said we were overthinking; they were just friends, and she was like a brother to Rick and a partner he lost in Shane. But Michonne fulfilled both for RIck- she was a partner and wife. Just as Sydney is a partner to Carmy.
Now let's talk about the dialogue and preceding scenes. In season 4, the prison is calm- domesticated. Rick is taking a break from the violence and is almost making peace with his wife's death. At this point, we don't know about Michonne's history, but Hershel- Rick's advisor- says this before Michonne arrives from being on the road.
(Things break, but they can still grow- a new plant, a new family tree. They hint at the Grimes 2.0 family after Lori's death. Right after Hershel says this- Michonne arrives.)
Plants? Family tree? Things growing you say?
Sydcarmy's preceding scenes hint at a ship:
Also, can I mention the tension? Here’s the thing: Rick treated Michonne differently than the rest of his found family. Just like Carmy. He listened to Michonne's advice early on—what Michonne wants goes. Sound familiar?
Even amid Michonne Challenging him as Sydney challenges Carmy- you can feel the closeness- the partnership and trust growing between them.
Jessie/ Claire, a blast from the past.
In TWD, Jessie represents Lori (Rick's dead wife) before Richonne happens. We got the Jessie storyline- a big session of major gaslighting here; some WD fans figured Jessie would replace Andrea, Rick's love/partner in the comics. But it didn't make any sense to us- they built all this tension and closeness between Rick and Michonne, and suddenly, Jessie happens?
Then they point to the signs visually- such as Jessie wearing a plaid shirt, the same style his wife Lori wore when he last saw her alive.
Lori's ghost:
Jessie & Claire, and nothing thereafter.
Rick doesn't sleep with Jessie, but after their kiss the night before, Jessie touches Rick's face, and he feels nothing for her- even after he stares at his wedding ring. When Richonne becomes Cannon in the very next episode, the first shot we see is Rick's wedding ring on the dresser- showing us he's past his grief and is in a new place to be with Michonne, his soulmate.
Comparing to Carmy and Claire. After he declares Claire his girlfriend they sleep together he feels nothing because dating her was all about getting past his grief with Mikey.
In this same episode, they do more proceeding scenes hinting at Richonne happening. When Deanna, the town leader, asks Michonne to look into what she wants after they get through the herd. They cut to scenes of Michonne caring for Carl- Rick's son.
But all this foreshadowing- I should get into the cinematography parallels that honored Lori's role and show Michonne fulfilling the matriarch of the family just as Sydney honors Mikey. But this is enough for now. Maybe a part 2 I got plenty more comparisons.
The same will happen with Carmy and Sydney- the show gives us clear obstacles that stop Sydney and Carmy from slowing down, taking a look, and realizing their feelings for each other. For carmy to get to that place, he has to get past his grief.
I think, if anything, if this is the last season and they don't end with a kiss, Storer is hinting at it. Like the bear, the pairing was planned from the beginning and you. Tell by the foreshadowing and if people really watched, they could see the signs.
One last thing, this was a comment once richonne became cannon and it's so similar to sydcarmy. Tells you all about how misdirection in slow burns work with most audience. When a ship becomes cannon some say wow! I didn't see that comingʻ where there's been hints from the start..when it's planned.
I saw their relationship develop in a platonic kind of way, and it was a complete surprise for me when they got together. Now, looking back, I'm so embarrassed because it was so obvious all along.
Be safe, and Happy Holidays, Folks!
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other plans | b.d.
bodhi durran x reader part one. two. three. four. five. summary: everyone has their demons, you just chose to run from yours. straight to basgiath war college. and definitely not towards the grinning tall, dark, and handsome marked rider that seemed too kind to be in a hardened place like the rider's quadrant. word count: 2.1k ish notes: second person pov but i give the reader a nickname (that i stole from dirty dancing) and a last name bc i'm not using y/n and i want this to be readable. she/her pronouns used for reader. this has been stuck in my head and i thought i was gonna combust if i didn't get it on page. and it's all together hovering somewhere around 7k words so im gonna split it up and post it all within the next few days and then have the whole thing available on ao3! i haven't written fanfiction in at least a good six months, and i've never written for fourth wing, so bare with me a little--i tried my best. i have a chronic attachment to side characters with little to no page time. half of this was written while wine tipsy and all of it was proofread while wine drunk, so we die like men
Bodhi has never seen someone walk across the parapet so easily.
He's never seen someone make a dance out of it. As if it were a show, a production. Your feet are so confident, so sure with every step, every placement that you would make it to the next. It's pouring rain and windy as all hell, and yet you make the parapet look like a children's balance beam.
You land right in front of him, and by the time your eyes meet his, he's already decided that he needs to know everything he possibly can about you. The instant your focus lands on him, he's obsessed.
Garrick has other plans.
"Name?"
"Baby," you say, and Bodhi blinks. "Marho."
Garrick is downright gawking at you. "Baby?"
Something that sounds much more like a name and not what an infant is called slips out on a laugh, and Bodhi can't help but trace the lean lines of your neck. Holy shit. If he thought you were pretty before, it was dwarfed to the sound of your laugh. The sun had to fight for space when you smiled.
"Sorry. Childhood nickname, I forget I have another one sometimes."
"Did your parents nickname you after a hooker?" Garrick asks, jotting your name--the true one--on the roll.
"Did yours raise you to be a dick?" you ask, not missing a beat, and the boy's gaze snaps up to you. If Bodhi had been looking anywhere else, his would have too, but he hadn't taken his eyes off of you since the moment you stepped foot onto the parapet. He felt his brow shoot up, lips parting on a huff.
He bursts out laughing.
You don't move. Don't take your eyes from Garrick, from staring him down, until he tips his head in inclination and gives something that sounds like an apology. It's Bodhi's turn to be the subject of your scrutiny now, and as your eyes trace his shape, shifting with the weight of your gaze and his laugh, he senses more than sees the moment you note his rebellion relic. Your face doesn't shift, but it's as if a proverbial file is created and tucked away into the archive of your mind.
You didn't say anything else as you walk away from the two boys, but Bodhi tracks you as you go. Tracks your movements, as you weave through the crowd with a practiced grace, how your hair moves as you take the stairs down and out of his sight.
He's almost sorry to see you go. But he's determined to see you again.
Bodhi snatches the roll sheet from Garrick as parapet comes to an end, scanning to make sure he has the name correct. He marches up to Xaden, and only pausing for a moment to consider how stupid this is--he literally doesn't know a single thing about you--before throwing your name into the space between them.
"I want her in my section."
"Don't you have better things to do than flirt with children?" Xaden asks impassively.
"She's not a literal baby."
"I'm aware of that," he responds, sounding exasperated. "You're an Executive Officer, Bodhi. Do what you want."
Except Dain Aetos has other plans.
You made friends. You stand with the Sorrengail girl and another he didn't recognize, tucking loose strands of hair back into her coronet braid. What type of person fixed the hair of someone they'd just met? You, apparently.
You're in Second Wing. With Aetos and Sorrengial and the other girl. This is fine. Something about you didn't scream "secret rebel" the way wanted it too.
And then Xaden transfers your squad to Fourth Wing. He had sent Bodhi a glance as he put the squad in Flame section--not Tail--and Bodhi could see there was some sort of ulterior motive behind the decision. It did also mean you weren't under his direct chain of command. He couldn't tell if that was a good thing or a bad thing
Fraternization is frowned upon, not forbidden, after all.
Not that you would be fraternizing. After all.
But, challenging you would be a terrible idea. Terribly adverse, fatally cataclysmic, and ill-fated.
And all of those words mean the same thing.
He would stay clear, watch you from afar, and maybe, maybe work up the courage to talk to you outside of parapet. Possibly.
His confidence needed some serious shaping. Since when was he afraid to talk to someone? A pretty someone, to say the least. He was a gods damned dragon rider. He wasn't afraid to talk to you. He was just... hesitant.
Yeah. That. And he did not need a challenge to break the ice.
Emetterio has other ideas.
He calls your name, then Bodhi's, and Bodhi is pretty sure his heart stops in his chest.
You don't look frazzled or scared, just curious as you study him from head to toe. He guards himself as if you were an intruder in his mind, an Inntinnsic slipping in to spill all his secrets. Except you're an unbounded first year that hasn't even developed a signet, and instead that's just you. He's building up walls just to look at you. You and those bright, keen eyes.
Emetterio calls it, and you're off. Except neither of you move. You pace around, and it's a stand off. You cock your head, and Bodhi tries every trick in the book: the fakes out, glances quickly off to the side, purposefully stumbles--and you're unfazed. Completely and utterly unfazed.
He can't make the first move. He can't hit you--
Suddenly, his feet are out from under him, and he's staring at the ceiling, and you lunge, reaching to pin him to the floor. He reaches out and catches the elbow you throw, but before he can even make contact, you twist, sliding underneath him, and suddenly you're behind him.
You're fast. Really fucking fast. And suddenly, Bodhi has his work cut out for him.
You kick out again, going to the back of his knees, and he recognizes the move, thrusting his body forward to keep control and twisting before he lands, kipping up so you're eye-level again.
Your first catches his nose, and blood goes flying. He makes the mistake of bringing his hands up to cup his nose and it leaves his core exposed. You take the opportunity to land a knee in his gut, probably bruising a few ribs in there, and he doubles over, the wind having been knocked from him. Holy shit, he needs to get at least one hit in. This was getting embarrassing.
He swings blindly, and you dodge--but you don't grab his fist. And you had the perfect opportunity to. You were fast, and your reflexes were quick, but you didn't know how to end this. The realization crashes into him as you swing again. A lot of force, but no follow-though, giving him the perfect opportunity to deflect, pushing your fist and forcing the follow-through until you were swinging behind him with his hand around your wrist and then he was bringing you to him, one of his arms gripping one of yours across your neck, and the other twisting your other behind your back. Like this, your body was flush against his.
You struggle, kicking out, but it was all too easy for him to get your feet out from under you. You weren't small by any means, but Bodhi was bigger, and had a year of training over you. Your feet kicked out, and all he had to do was lean back to incapacitate you. You gave a frustrated grunt that so heavily affected him that he almost dropped you to make sure you were okay before he realized where he was and what he was doing.
"Finish her without making a fool of yourself, please," Cuir chimes in, probably sensing his hesitation and near-miss, and Bodhi sends an eye roll he hopes she can feel, since he doesn't have the brain space to say anything back, with your body pressed against his and the current task at hand.
He twists and take you both to the ground, pinning both your hands above your head, and taking a leg beneath his foot, balancing on a knee. You let out a sharp huff, and he's mesmerized by the way your nose scrunches up in determination. Your free leg goes to knee him, and he takes the hit, leaning into it before transferring your hands so they're both pinned between one of his, sliding one hand down your hip and to your thigh, holding it to the gourd before you can knee him again. He has a free knee to hold him up, but not without giving leverage to one of your legs. So he's pressed against you, hip to hip, face to face.
"Yield," he says, begs, because he can't hold this for long, and because if you figure out just how much you affect him, you'd win this thing in a matter of heartbeats.
"No," you grind out, thrashing. He's spread thin: his wingspan practically encompassing your body, giving you leverage to wear against him. He worries for a moment, a flash of the bruise he could leave on your thigh going through his mind, and two thoughts overtake him at once.
One, that he doesn't want to hurt you. And that while it may be inevitable with where you two stood, he wanted to try and eliminate the possibility as best he could.
Two, that he would leave bruises all up and down your thighs if he ever got the chance to get between them.
And the combination of the two of those thoughts loosened his grip on you, giving you the opportunity to roll away.
"I did not choose someone this negligent," Cuir snaps, and Bodhi panicks, and now you're pinned underneath him again, his front pressed to your backside, and it's a true plea when he breathes, "Yield."
"No!" You squirm, and fuck stop doing that--
"Get yourself together!" Cuir snaps, and Bodhi sucks in a sharp breath.
"That's enough," Emetterio says, pinning you with a look Bodhi would pick dragon fire over. "Know when to quit, Cadet Marho."
"No!" you yelp. "If this were a real fight, no one is calling the shots--"
"If this was a real fight, you'd be dead. I called it. Get off the mat," Emetterio snaps, and Bodhi scrambles off of you.
He offered you a hand that you send a pointed look at, and he can tell you're considering telling him where to shove it, but you take it anyway, and he walks you off the mat with a hand on your shoulder.
"Good match," Bodhi says, genuinely trying.
You open your mouth to respond, looking like you yourself could spit fire for a second, and Bodhi pities the dragon you end up bonded to for a moment.
"You're fast," he continues, before you can. "Quick reflexes, and you're strong."
"I had you," you throw at him, fiery and determined, and your gaze slips to his rebellion relic.
Oh. So that's what this is about.
Bodhi shakes his head, and the grin that had been blooming falters. "I can help," he says. "If you're struggling with sparring, I can help."
You suck in a breath.
"Or Imogen. Or Xaden. Or--" he stops, because, fuck, obviously you don't want to be near Marked ones--
"Thank you," you say, and the ghost of the smile he saw after the parapet makes a reappearance. "Thank you."
And with that, you turn and leave, heading back to your squad. Rhiannon is shaking her head at you, and Violet mumbles something that makes you laugh. Bodhi would bottle that sound if he could. What the hell was a counter signet for? His signet should be used for bottling the sound of your laugh--
"Do not finish that thought," Cuir chides. "Get a grip."
Bodhi grins, his hair falling over his temple as Garrick comes up and slaps him on the back, congratulations on a challenge well fought. He watches you take a swig from the water canteen, traces the lines of your jaw down to your shoulder until you hand it back, then traces the length of your wrist as you hand it--
"Pathetic." Cuir. "You haven't spoken."
"We kind of did," Bodhi says mentally. "I offered. I... tried."
"If you like her, try harder," she chides, and Bodhi sighs.
He doesn't like you, he barely knows you.
"Sure."
#i didnt even know i liked bodhi this much until i wrote a 7k word fic about him after drinking an entire bottle of a cabernet sauvignon#by myself#oops merry christmas#fourth wing#fourth wing fanficiton#fourth wing x reader#bodhi durran#bodhi durran x reader#all of the beloved marked ones and second squad will be making appearances#i just feel like all the pics i see are short so i dont wanna post my word vomit on tumblr#thats what ao3 is for#rebecca yarros#the empyrean#emmmaswrites
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🤭🤭🤭🤭 oh my goodness well I’m glad they’re getting along so famously!! It makes sense that Joel has to warm up and get used to being more open and connect with others. Excited to read the next part!!
Miller's Christmas Tree Farm
Part two - Mistletoe and wine
Summary: You and Ellie move to the farm and meet a very grumpy Joel for the first time. But his mood does not affect how motivated you are for your new job and living out your Hallmark movie fantasy of living on a dreamy snowy farm. And maybe all this planing and working with the, you have to admit, very handsome grump of a man might lead you to start living out your very own love story.
Pairing: Joel Miller x fem. reader
Rating: T
Wordcount: 10k (can you believe that???)
Warnings: no outbreak AU, major Hallmark movie vibes, fluff, working through grief and heartbreak, character death, a lot of Christmas planning, a Husky called Edward (after Edward Cullen), pining, teasing, Ellie and Tommy being menaces, a kiss (or two), some making out, tension, feelings
Co- written with @jennaispunk 💜
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Full Masterlist // Joel Miller Masterlist // Miller's Christmas Tree Farm Masterlist
Driving up to the farm felt like something straight out of a Hallmark movie.
Really.
A fresh layer of snow covered the ground, big, also snow covered trees lining the long driveway. You could see tiny Christmas trees behind the big ones, most likely already growing for upcoming years, bringing a smile to your face.
Not long after a house came into view.
„Woah,“ Ellie said from the backseat and you nodded.
„It’s beautiful,“ you said, slowing down.
There were four buildings, all in dark red. But the biggest one, the one you were pretty sure was the main house had a wrap around porch. It looked well taken care off, the trees surrounding the house adding to the charm.
You wondered if there were Christmas lights hung in them and you made a mental note to add some if not.
With a little money and a lot of work getting this farm back on track would hopefully be easy.
As you parked your car next to an old truck the door of the house sprung open and you noticed Tommy walking out and towards you.
„You ready Ellie?“ You asked, turning in your seat to look at her.
She only nodded with a shy smile that you mirrored before you took your seatbelt off and opened the car door. Tommy pulled your door completely open and you thanked him.
„I’m happy you made it!“ He said as you turned around to open the door for Ellie.
„I hope you found everything okay?“ Tommy asked. Nodding you helped Ellie out of the car who looked around in wonder.
„You must be Ellie,“ Tommy said with a smile, getting down on one knee to meet her at eye level.
„I’m Tommy,“ he introduced himself and held out his hand which Ellie took with a very serious expression, shaking it twice.
„Is there always this much snow around?“ She asked and you smiled to yourself.
„This is actually not even bad. I remember one year we had so much snow you couldn’t see the stairs leading up to the house. Might have broken my arm when I tried to jump from the porch into the snow like into a pool,“ he gestured behind him to where six stairs led up to the porch. With big eyes Ellie looked at you.
„I wanna do that!“ She said excitedly and you rolled your eyes with a sigh.
„Nope. No more bone breaking for the foreseeable future please,“ you said, walking over to her to put your arm around her shoulders. She let her head fall against your upper arm. Another year and she’d be able to rest her head on your shoulder.
It was when you looked up that your eyes caught someone else standing on the porch, his eyes trained on you already.
Tommy followed and turned his head around when he noticed you looking over his shoulder. When Tommy turned his head to look back at you he took a deep breath.
„And this is my brother Joel. He’s the boss. I promise he’s not as grumpy as he looks,“ he said with a wink to Ellie and she snorted.
After a moment the man, Joel, made his way down the stairs and towards you. He was taller than Tommy. And broader. He was wearing a brown coat, his hands covered by thick leather gloves.
His dark hair was hidden beneath a knitted hat, his face, while grumpy, was rather handsome. A salt and pepper beard that looked somewhat trimmed covered his lower face everywhere, all but on a spot on his left cheek.
But it was his eyes that spoke to you the most. Brown eyes that seemed to say a million things at once as he looked at you.
His expression was rather grim but as he looked at Ellie standing next to you his eyes softened. At least you thought so as he attempted a smile.
„I like grumpy people. They usually don’t take any shit just like I do,“ Ellie said proudly and your eyes widened.
„Language!“ You hissed and she looked at you with a sheepish expression. When you looked back at Joel he had a strange expression before he blinked himself out of it,
„I’m Joel,“ he gave a single wave and you introduced yourself before doing the same with Ellie.
„So you are the person my brother can‘t shut up about huh?“ he asked and you hummed.
„Just trying to help get your business back on track,“ you said and his gaze was fixed on you as if he was trying to figure you out.
„Just for a place to stay out in the middle of nowhere with two guys you know nothing about,“ he narrowed his eyes and you started to get pissed off.
„People talk, so I think I know enough about you to be sure that you are not an axe murderer,“ you challenged him, getting worked up, only interrupted by Tommy who cleared his throat. With wide eyes you looked at him and then at Ellie who was looking up at you with a mix of fear and awe.
„Now that that‘s settled I am gonna show you were you will stay while you are with us,“ Tommy said, already walking around your car to get you suitcases out.
„Little help?“ he called over his shoulder towards his brother, but Joel had already turned his back towards you and was walking towards the barn.
Joel leaned against the closed barn door after he made it inside and shook his head, trying to clear his mind. He should have been a little nicer, you were here to help, but he wasn’t a man who accepted help easily. He was always the one the one who took care of things, got Tommy out of every jam he’d gotten himself into. He was the one who was supposed to fix things and it killed him that he was failing at this. He opened the barn door a crack, watching Tommy walk you and Ellie to your new place. A crooked smile crossed his lips as he watched you take a suitcase from Tommy as he opened the front door.
Tommy had failed to mention you were so pretty. Bastard.
You looked down at Ellie before you sighed.
„Are you sure he‘s not an axe murderer?“ she asked in a loud whisper, making you and Tommy chuckle.
„He‘s not. Though when he’s had a beer too many he sure sounds like chain saw at night. He‘s… He‘s gonna come around,“ Tommy said as he grabbed two of your suitcases. Ellie ran over to him and grabbed her box of painting supplies.
„I hope he will,“ you mumbled as you picked up another suitcase and followed Tommy and Ellie towards the house.
You were running your fingers through Edward Cullen‘s fur, iPad in your lap as you worked on your plan for the next six weeks.
It was day three of your stay at the Miller‘s farm and you had not really talked to Joel since your arrival. You had seen him in passing, the scowl always on his face as he gave you a curt nod before he disappeared.
You and Ellie had settled into your new little apartment.
It was big enough for the both of you and had running water. Tommy said that him and Joel had decided that they would set up a new kitchen if things went okay and you decided to stay her permanently.
Or if Joel hadn‘t made you run away by then.
Tommy told you that you were more than welcome to use the kitchen of the main house and that was more than okay for you. And definitely for Tommy because while he loved to eat, you loved to cook.
It had been some time since you had more than just you and Ellie to cook for and you took full advantage of the big farmhouse kitchen that was in the main house.
Ellie had begged you to go out with Tommy in his snow mobile when he had to check on some things on the property after at least fifteen inches of snow had come down last night. You made her promise to listen to everything Tommy said after you checked in with him if it was okay.
As you watched them leave, playfully fighting each other until they were inside the snow mobile, both laughing loudly, you just knew that these both would be trouble in the future.
There was something in his eyes as he told you that he missed having someone around who was actually excited to spend time with him and he promised you he would take care of Ellie like she was family.
Joel was out, which was why you had decided to lounge in a cozy armchair in front of the fire place in the main house (of course after making sure it would be okay). Tommy had told you that Joel would most likely be out until the evening and even if he was home earlier it would still be okay.
You and Ellie had explored around the farm over the last two days and you pretty much fell in love with the place right away.
It only needed a little help to bring the magic back and you had several ideas on how to accomplish that. Even apart from Christmas you had ideas, but December was fast approaching so these events would have to be planned first.
You already checked in with Tommy for some logistics such as the snow maze you wanted to set up and he told you it should not be a problem. There was plenty of snow around after all.
Your plan involved three different events every weekend leading up to Christmas and a big Christmas Ball / Party on Christmas Eve.
The budget would be tight, but you had already checked out some local vendors you wanted to contact who could be part of the events. Such as the bakery and coffee house for drinks and food.
You were focused on writing down the last couple of ideas when Edward‘s head snapped up and he began to impatiently whine before he ran away from you and towards the door.
You were about to check if someone was at the door when said door opened and Joel walked in. He seemed to be deep in his thoughts as he leaned down to pat Edwards head, following the dog who immediately trotted back to you to snuggle back against you.
Joel arched his brow, not expecting to find you in the main house. He’d been avoiding you as much as possible, trying to keep your interactions to a minimum, mostly because every moment he spent with you he found himself liking you more. He found himself drawn to the easy way you joked and laughed with Tommy, he was almost a little jealous of how the two of you interacted. He saw how patient and gentle you were with Ellie. Your joy was infectious and he even caught himself smiling when he thought of something you said or the was you would sass him when you thought he was out of line. You made him feel things he thought he’d buried long ago.
And he hope you hadn’t caught him starring at you yet, because somehow his eyes seemed to follow you whenever you were around.
You gulped, suddenly a little nervous.
„Uhm… Tommy said it was okay to stay here cause you were out. The WIFI up here is better. But I can leave if you….“
He interrupted you as he shook his head.
„Stay,“ he said and the surprise was clearly written on your face as he added a whispered „Please.“
You nodded slowly at him and he nodded back before he turned around and began to take off his coat and shoes.
Meanwhile you got back to your list, counting through the last numbers of what this all would cost and how much it could bring in. You did not know how much in debt the farm was, but Tommy told you they‘d need a small miracle so they wouldn‘t have to sell parts of the land or the whole place.
„Do you want some coffee?“ you heard Joel asked and looked up, finding him standing in the doorway. He seemed to have changed into some sweatpants and a black shirt and his hair seemed to be still wet.
Your eyes lingered on his broad arms for a moment too long before you furrowed your brows, looking at the time.
„It‘s almost 4pm. If I drink one now I won‘t be able to sleep,“ you said and he huffed a laugh.
„Tea?“ he asked again and you found yourself nodding at him.
„Which one?“ he asked as he walked back towards the kitchen.
„Surprise me?“ you called after him, a little confused that he seemed to suddenly talk to you. For some reason you found yourself turning on the front camera of your iPad to check you appearance.
It was a couple minutes later when you heard his footsteps again. He walked into the room two mugs in his hands.
„I hope you like apple tea. It‘s apparently the only one we got,“ he shrugged as he sat the mug down on the small table in front of you.
„Thanks,“ you said, somehow nervous.
Joel lingered as if unsure what to do as he took a sip from his mug.
„Uhm I wanted to apologise how our fist meeting went. I‘m…. Obviously not the best with people,“ he said, one of his hands rubbing over the back of his neck.
„Oh,“ you said dumbly, blinking up at him.
You might have missed the short moment the right side of his lips lifted as if he wanted to smile if you had looked away.
„Yeah,“ he said with a sigh, letting his gaze wander through the room before he was looking at you and then his dog laying with his head in his lap.
„Edward seems to make up for my shitty behaviour,“ and there it was finally, a small smile from Joel Miller.
„He‘s a good dog,“ you said, stroking him behind his ears.
„Why Edward Cullen though?“ Tommy had told you about the name but said to ask Joel if you wanted to know more.
Joel took a deep breath before he sat down on the couch next to you.
„My daughter named him,“ he said quietly and you nodded slowly, knowing a little about what happened to her.
„Thought it was funny cause she could made me yell after Edward Cullen in the woods every single time,“ he smiled to himself, his eyes unfocused, probably deep in a memory he was replaying in his mind.
„She seemed like a funny girl,“ you said softly and he looked up at you.
„She was,“ he whispered and you somehow got the impression that he did not want to talk any more about her.
So you took a deep breath.
„Do you… want to hear about the ideas I have for the farm?“ you asked slowly.
„You got one?“
„I have several and I have answers for all your questions,“ you pursed your lips, challenge in your eyes.
„Well now I wanna hear em,“ he said as he slipped closer to you so he could see what you had written.
„How much more fucking snow do we need?“ you heard Joel yell from where he was sitting up in the tractor.
Much to your surprise he had agreed to almost all of your ideas.
You just had to lower the budget because he had admitted that he did not have enough to cover all the new lights you had suggested. But much to your surprise he had shown you the whole basement of the barn full of boxes of Christmas decoration.
You were already excited to get through them with Ellie when she got back from school this afternoon.
But now you were across the barn, Tommy and Joel both in the tractors as they shovelled snow into what would later become the snow maze. You had already contacted a local catering service who had food trucks and they agreed to set up one of their coffee and sweets trucks here free of charge until Christmas. One of their workers would be there every day to take care of what you hoped would be a lot of customers.
„Enough snow for a maze? Maybe I shouldn‘t have let Ellie plan it,“ you said to yourself, doubt creeping into your mind as you looked down at the plan.
She didn‘t know that the maze you asked her to paint would be the plan of the actual maze that would get set up behind the barn for the whole of December. You thought it would be a great way to have some income over the whole week. It would be open daily between 4 pm - 7 pm and costs $5 per person.
Joel had agreed right away, thinking that this idea was the one that cost him almost nothing but some work to build the maze.
„I like her plan. Except for the killer snowman in the middle. Don‘t think we can build one of those,“ Tommy yelled as he shovelled more snow.
„Oh I don‘t know. That was the best part of it,“ you grinned.
„We just put Joel in the middle of the maze every morning and hide his coffee. Boom, Killer Snowman,“ Tommy teased and you tried to hide your smile as you heard Joel yell „I heard that.“
You left towards lunch time to pick up Ellie from school and go to the local library to print out a bunch of the flyers you had put together. You had already send message around and asked almost all the local vendors it they would hang them up and all of them agreed. You also had received quite a lot of feedback in your search for vendors who would like to join the events every week to get some exposure.
Everything was coming together much easier than you anticipated. You weren’t used to such small towns where everyone seemed to have everyone’s back.
But the biggest surprise had been Joel.
It had only been four days since you had your talk and he had already offered some additional ideas for the events. He also had started to have a mug of tea ready for you every morning when he knew you arrived back from getting Ellie to school.
Something that left you with a warm feeling every time you thought about it. And about him too.
It wasn‘t that he had changed completely. He still had what you would call a resting bitch face throughout the day but there was something flickering behind this… facade he put on.
Because somehow you imagined that there was a completely different Joel somewhere hiding in this big, very attractive, grump of a man.
Joel was fucked.
He was so fucked and he did not now how to get out of not being fucked.
Because the reason he was fucked was living in the apartment he had set up many years ago to rent it out as an Airbnb. You and your daughter were living there and somehow from the first moment he had seen you he knew that spending time with you would get dangerous for the lonely life he had been living since Sarah passed.
Since he hid away all the parts of himself that could still get hurt even after all the shit he went through.
He thought he could be… content for the rest of his life, living alone on his farm until one day he would just… die alone. Tommy would marry his girlfriend Maria and move away because he wouldn‘t be able to take Joel being the rock that held him back from living his life.
But ever since you showed up, he found himself asking more often if maybe, just maybe he should try again. Try not to be just content with life, but to try to be happy.
He could be happy with you, maybe.
Sure, he would have to get to know you properly which would involve him actually talking more than two sentences to you, but he could do that. Somehow.
He just wasn’t sure how, because every time he looked at you it was like someone pushed the stop button inside his brain and once he finally found some words, you were gone.
„She likes raspberry tea the most,“ he was startled as Ellie leaned on the porch next to him, a small grin on her lips. Her face was flushed from playing in the halfway build snow maze with Tommy.
„Huh?“
„My mom. Her favourite tea is raspberry. Or if you rather make coffee buy caramel sweetener. She loves that too,“ Ellie said and he frowned before he looked up again, catching you inside his kitchen, making dinner.
„Why would I want to know her favourite tea or coffee?“ he asked and saw Ellie roll her eyes.
„Cause you keep looking at her all the time without talking to her,“ she said.
„I do?“ he asked, surprised at being caught by a nine year old.
„Duh. Even Tommy noticed,“ she said, before she turned around to walk inside, stopping at the door to turn back around to him.
„Just… Don‘t be a dick. Cause I might be a kid but my dad was a dick to her and I don‘t want to ever see her cry because of…. I want her to be happy, okay?“
„Okay,“ Joel frowned.
„And I like you dude. Even though you look like someone stole Christmas from you most of the time so…. Anyway,“ she mumbled before she opened the door and ran inside.
He could still hear you scold Ellie for keeping her shoes on when he turned around towards his brother who was walking up the stairs.
„You heard all of that, huh?“ Joel asked with a sigh.
„Yep,“ Tommy grinned.
„Didn’t think I would ever get scolded by a nine year old,“ Joel hummed.
„Again. You thought you would never get scolded by a nine year old again,“ Tommy said and Joel sighed.
„You like her?“ Tommy asked and Joel rubbed his hand over his face.
„Cause she‘s kinda awesome. And Ellie too.“
„Yeah. They’re both pretty damn special,“ Joel agreed.
„So get her her favourite tea and some sweetener and start talking to her. Can‘t make a worse impression than you already did,“ Tommy teased and Joel rolled his eyes.
But Tommy let go of teasing his older brother. For now.
„Ready for homemade dinner?“ Tommy asked, already rubbing his hands.
„I‘ll kill you if you try anything funny,“ Joel warned, hearing Tommy laugh as he walked inside, ignoring Joel completely.
Weekend 1 - Snow man building contest
The week leading up to the first competition was long and exhausting. But looking around now into the little winter wonderland you all had made, you were proud. Joel and Tommy had gotten some people together the day before to help decorating the rest of the farm and set everything up.
You all had a blast decorating the whole farm with the endless pieces of decoration that had been stored in the basement.
Joel had even opened up a little more towards you as you tested the lights the day before, telling you that celebrating Christmas was hard for him because it reminded him of everyone that he lost in the last years.
The vendors had arrived earlier this morning and were already setting up.
You had three different food trucks and a bunch of vendors selling self-made crafts and art.
With the snow maze opening four days ago word had gotten around even quicker that Miller‘s farm had a lot happening in the next weeks and people were curious.
You hoped a lot of people would show up tonight to join the competition and of course, to buy Christmas trees.
„You look nervous,“ Tommy said as he came to stand next to you on the porch.
„Me? Nooo. I‘m totally fine and not nervous about all of this being for nothing when no one shows up and your brother ends up hating me even more,“ you gave a humourless laugh.
„He still not talking to you?“ Tommy asked and you sighed.
„He‘s not not talking to me. It‘s just…. It feels like he‘s forcing himself to talk to me for some reason. But then he‘s making me a drink every morning and somehow he even figured out my favourites. He‘s so…. Frustrating,“ you sighed and Tommy chuckled.
„Seems to me like the two of you need to spend more time together.“
„Why? He‘s technically my boss.“
„Have you ever signed a contract?“ Tommy asked with a small grin and your eyes widened.
„Oh my god I didn‘t. What is wrong with me?“ you asked yourself while Tommy chuckled.
„I won‘t answer that question. But I do have an idea on how to get Joel to talk to you,“ he grinned and the way he grinned let you narrow your eyes.
„And what genius Idea is that?“ you asked.
„How do you feel about building a snow man?“
„Thank you all for coming out tonight! We are about to start the contest part of this day so you can all back to enjoying the mulled wine Martia sells over there," Tommy grinned, nose already a little read from the second mulled wine he had, megaphone in hand as he took over hosting the competition.
You were kind of overwhelmed with how many people had shown up. And not only for the contest you were hosting, but according to Joel they had sold as many Christmas trees today as in the whole last season combined.
„We have eight teams, and I wanna see eight snow men. The winner gets the right to brag about it and a gift card from the best restaurant in town!“ Tommy continued to explain. Looking up at Joel who was standing next to you, you felt nervous. Not because you had been surprised by participating in the contest yourself, but because it was Joel who you had been partnered with.
Your first choice of course had been Ellie, but she had begged you to let her and her new friends play in the snow maze. And you couldn’t just say no to her big brown eyes.
Joel seemed reluctant at first to participate at all, but after a little talk with Tommy he agreed. You wondered if he would have still agreed if he knew that Tommy bet 10$ with you to build a grumpy snowman that could be mistaken for his brother.
„Ready to build the worlds best snowman?“ He asked you as Tommy yelled down a countdown.
„You bet your ass, Miller,“ you winked, hearing him chuckle.
So you might have underestimated the competitiveness of Joel Miller.
As soon as Tommy yelled start he was on his knees, his big, glove covered hands gathering snow to start on the base for the snowman.
„So I have a confession to make," you said, putting more snow on the middle part of the snowman while Joel already worked on forming a head.
„Huh?“ Joel asked, tongue poking out of his mouth in concentration.
„I have never build a snowman ever before,“ you said, patting the snow on.
Joel’s eyes moved to look at you and he gave you a small smile that showed his dimple.
„Would it be rude to say, I thought so?“ He said and your mouth dropped open in mock shock.
„Kind of, but then again, rude is your reputation,“ you chuckled.
He hummed, still working on the snowman. You caught Tommy’s eyes on you as you let your gaze wander around.
„Guess I have to work on being nicer,“ Joel said and you looked at him.
„To everyone?“ You asked and he stopped working to look at you, before he shook his head.
„Nah. I worked hard on my reputation. But I’d like to be nicer to the people I am living with. Like Tommy and Ellie…. And you,“ he said and you found yourself grinning up at him.
„Yeah?“ you asked and he nodded.
„And because I’m gonna start right now, I am going to nicely tell you to stop ruining this snowman and let me do the work,“ he said and you found yourself huffing a laugh.
With crossed arms you were standing in front of the Snowman Joel build and you decorated. Ellie was standing next to you and Joel as you watched the judges check out your snowman.
„So… whose Idea was to build a Joel snowman?“ Ellie asked and you sucked both your lips between your teeth to keep yourself from laughing as Joel looked at Ellie.
"What do you mean?“ He asked, confused.
„Flannel, crooked carrot nose, even the mouth looks like it's frowning. That's one hundred percent a Joel snowman,“ she said and you could feel Joel's eyes on your while you tried to appear busy looking at the Christmas lights you had put up yesterday.
When you couldn't take it anymore you finally looked up at Joel whose eyes were narrowed on you.
Just when he was about to say something Tommy stepped back with his megaphone, telling everyone that we had a winner.
And when he announced that Joel, the snowman was the winner of this competition you found yourself in the arms of Joel Miller for the first time, in a hug that not only you would remember for a long time.
Weekend 2 - Scavenger hunt
The snow maze and snow man building competition was a huge hit, even more than you had anticipated. You expected it might take people a bit to start coming out to the farm, but they showed up in droves; families, groups of teenagers, and even the mayor came out!
With the snowman building competition out of the way, you focused your attention on the next event: a scavenger hunt. Everything was was ready to go, all you needed was to go into town and pick up the worksheets for the hunt. You carefully selected places around the farm that the hunters would take pictures, answer riddles or pick up a token and the winner received 25 percent of a tree and some handmade ornaments of their choosing from one of the vendors. Joel had initially fought the tree discount but you and Tommy wore him down and he eventually gave in.
“Ellie, I have to get to the printers. Hurry up!”
Ellie was running around with Edward. The two of them had really bonded and it was nice to see Ellie laughing and playing like a kid again and you suspected Edward loved having a kid to play with again too. You watched as she ran with a stick in her hand, Edward chasing after her barking and jumping.
“Do I gotta?” Ellie whined. “Edward and I just started playing.”
They’d been playing for the last thirty minutes but you weren’t about to argue that point with a nine year old. Before you could open your mouth to repeat yourself, Tommy walked up.
“Let her stay here and play with the dog. I’ll keep my eye on her.”
Joel came stalking out of the barn, wiping his hands with a handkerchief. He made his way over to you and Tommy as he tucked the fabric into his back pocket.
“The spark plugs are bad on the goddamn tractor.” he grumbled. “Gotta head into town.”
Tommy’s brows arched to the sky as the corners of his lips curled into a shit eating grin.
“Well, ain’t that funny?” His eyes dart to you.
“You gotta go into town too, don’t ya? Y’all should ride together. Save gas.”
You shoot daggers at Tommy. Ever since the two of you built that snowman, he’s tried to push you and Joel together. Tommy’s efforts had only led to awkward moments between you and Joel, neither one of you sure how to navigate whatever was happening between you.
If looks could kill, Tommy would be dead. Joel resisted the urge to reach out and wring Tommy’s neck. His little brother never knew when to quit, he was like a dog with a bone when he was up to something. Joel’s breath lingered like a cloud in the chilly air. You made him nervous, like a teenage boy with his first crush. This was his chance to get you alone without Tommy or Ellie butting in, the one thing he longed for and dreaded at the same time. He needed to get his head out of his ass and just talk to you, it shouldn’t be that hard.
You turn your attention to Joel. The worry lines on his brow run deep, it’s almost like he’s fighting with himself. His right hand clenches into a fist and then relaxes.
“You don’t have-“
You’re trying to give Joel an out. The tension is rolling of him and the last thing you want is an uncomfortable trip into town.
“It’s fine.” Joel interrupted. The corner of his mouth twitched into a small smile. “The print shop is on the way to the hardware store. No sense in both of us driving into town.”
That was a surprise. You half expected him to come up with a reason that you couldn’t ride together.
Your eyes dart to Tommy. He’s grinning like the cat who caught the canary and you want to smack him and hug him at the same time. You bet Joel feels the same way about his brother too.
“You sure about keeping an eye on Ellie?”
“I’m sure.” he answered with a wink.
“Thanks.”
Maybe this is the perfect opportunity to get Joel to really talk to you, to understand him better.
“If she gets bored, I’ll put her to work.” Tommy teased.
Ellie playfully sticks her tongue out at Tommy but he just laughs.
“Ellie!” you scold.
You sigh. You’re really not that upset with her but sometimes she needs to remember that she’s just a kid.
“Just be good for Tommy, okay?”
“We’ll be fine, mom.” Ellie huffed.
She grabs Tommy’s hand, pulling him away from you and Joel.
“Come on, I wanna show you the new trick I taught Edward.”
Joel opens the passenger door for you and gently holds your elbow as you host yourself up, his mama taught him to be a gentleman. He feels you tense up for a brief moment but he stays silent. The last thing he wants to do is make this any more awkward than it already was. He climbs into the cab and looks over at you to make sure you buckled your seatbelt, something he would always do every time Sarah got in the truck with him. The truck roars to life and he puts it in gear.
You glance out the window as you move down the driveway. Ellie is laughing as Edward leaps into the air and catches the ball midair. You bite your bottom lip and lightly tap your fingers against your thigh. It’s not that you don’t trust Tommy but ever since Ellie’s accident you’ve had a hard time leaving her with anyone.
For several minutes, the silence hangs between you. Joel drums his fingers on the steering wheel, occasionally glancing over at you. He can see how tense you are. He rubs the back of his neck with his free hand and clears his throat.
“She’ll be fine.” He drawled. “Tommy’ll take good care of her.”
He pauses for a few beats before continuing.
“He was always the best uncle to Sarah.”
He speaks so softly that you barely heard him. Was this really happening? Was Joel finally opening up to you? You turn your head to look at him and swallow hard. Part of you was screaming at you to let it go, let Joel open up at his own pace but the more impulsive side of you won out.
“Did they…spend a lot of time together?” you asked quietly.
Joel is quiet for a few moments. The muscles of his jaw twitch as he remembers. He hasn’t talked about Sarah to anyone but Tommy in a very long time. Even with Tommy, it was hard to talk about her most of the time. Talking about Sarah meant that he had to acknowledge that she was gone and he couldn’t save her.
“Yeah, all we had was each other.” he answered softly. “Sarah’s mom and I split when Sarah was just a baby and Tommy really stepped up even though he was still a kid himself. He’d play dolls with her and he’d come over for tea parties…”
His voice cracked as he trailed off and your heart broke for him. Almost losing Ellie nearly broke you, you couldn’t imagine what losing her would have done to you.You lift your hand to cover his on the center console and then pull it back. You’re not sure if touching him would just make it worse and you let your hand drop back into your lap.
When he doesn’t say anything more, you sigh. It’s time to change the subject, getting him talking about something, anything less painful. Sarah was a subject the two of you could discuss later. You rack your brain to come up with a safe topic, but you’ve got nothing and the silence grows.
Joel cards his fingers through his hair. He hadn’t meant to get into such a deep conversation with you and get emotional. He can’t even guess what you must be thinking right now. He could see you struggling out of the corner of his eye and he knew he had to keep this whole thing derailing before it even started. He reaches over and turns on the radio. A country tune flows quietly through the speakers.
Even though the music isn’t loud, you immediately recognise the tune as one of your favourites. Without a second thought, you reach over and turn up the volume a bit and quietly sing along. You catch Joel softly drumming on the steering wheel along with the song and you smile. Music. That’s a safe topic.
When the song ends, you lower the volume on the radio. You’re feeling confident that you can get Joel talking again.
“You like that song, too?”
Joel turns his head toward you for a brief moment, a shy crooked smile on his lips.
“It’s one of my favourites.”
Back at the farm, Tommy watches over Ellie as she plays with Edward.
“Hey, kid!”
Ellie jogs over to Tommy with Edward loping behind. She stops in front of him, panting softly, her cheeks rosy from the cold.
“What’s up?”
“I gotta plan to get your mom and Joel together but I’m gonna need your help. You in?” he asked.
Ellie’s eyes light up. She just wants her mom to be happy.
“I’m in.”
You make your stops at the hardware store and the print shop and head back toward the farm. You even talk Joel into picking up dinner from the diner on the way home. The two of you are talking, really talking, without any of the awkwardness that marred most of your previous conversations. Joel loves music just as much as you do and the two of you discuss your favourite songs and artists.
The drive back to the farm flies by and before you knew it, Joel was pulling in the driveway. And that’s when he dropped the bomb on you that he played guitar. Your jaw dropped as he uttered those words. You couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like to sit with Joel by the fireplace as he played for you.
“Maybe you could play for me sometime?”
“Maybe.”
The first few contestants begin to filter in and you take a deep breath. The snowman building competition was a huge success, why wouldn’t this be? You hope you haven’t make any of the clues too difficult; the idea was for this to be fun and get people exploring the farm. Once everyone had their sheets, you sent them out onto the farm with a time limit of 90 minutes. You had a great turn out, your sign up sheet had filled up within a week. The steady stream of people coming in to buy trees snapped you from your worry about the scavenger hunt. A couple with the cutest little girl came in, asking about a tree. The little girl reminded you of Ellie at that age, so curious and wide eyed.
Joel watched as you helped the couple. You just had a way with people. Your smile was effortless; he was sure you could charm the pants off Ebenezer Scrooge himself. Hell, you managed to soften him up. The way you interacted with that little girl took his breath away; you were so gentle and patient. You laughed at something the little girl said and his heart fluttered in his chest. That was a sound he could get used to hearing.
“Earth to Joel.”
Ellie stood in front of Joel, waving her little hands.
He shook his head and looked down at Ellie. His cheeks flushed at being caught staring at you.
“What…what do ya need, kiddo?” he asked
Ellie smirked at him.
“Tommy needs your help with a tree.”
“Sure.”
Joel glanced your way one last time before walking toward the truck.
You checked your watch for the tenth time in the last few minutes, you expected the participants back any minute now. Two younger men came barreling toward you at a dead run. As they got closer you recognised them, they had arrived together with their wives and playfully trash-talked to each other while they waited for the scavenger hunt to start. You giggled as they bumped into each other and slid on the snow.
The blond one got to you a hair before his buddy; it looked as though you had a winner. You collected his tokens and checked the photos as the rest if the participants trickled in.
“On behalf of the Miller brothers, I want to thank everyone for coming out today. Your support is greatly appreciated and we all look forward to seeing you next weekend for the tree cutting competition. Trust me, you don’t want to miss it.”
You announce the winner to the crowd and steer the winning couple toward Tommy and Joel.
“Don’t forget, we’re having a Christmas Eve barn dance and we’d love to see you all there.”
You wave to the winning couple as they pull away with their new Christmas Tree tied to their roof. Tommy waves too but Joel stands there with his hands shoved in his pockets and you not so gently elbow him in the ribs. You hear the air rush from his lungs and stifle a giggle but he raises an arm and waves.
Joel rubs his side as the car rolls out of sight. He should have known that you would call him out but he can’t bring himself to be mad about it. He likes that you aren’t afraid to stand up to him, it makes things interesting.
“I can’t believe I discounted a tree that much.” he grumbled as the three of you walk toward the main house.
“Oh, quit complaining.” you told him, playfully rolling your eyes. “I’m making your favourite for dinner to make it up to you.”
All throughout dinner you notice Ellie glancing at Tommy. She has that look in her eye that tells you she’s up to something, but you don’t have a clue as to what it could be. Tommy, for the most part, is his normal self and you just brush it off as Christmas excitement.
You push yourself away from the table and begin clearing the dishes. Joel immediately gets up and starts grabbing plates.
“Let me help you with those.” he offered.
You smile and nod before turning toward the kitchen. Tommy and Ellie’s eyes go wide each time you or Joel pass through the door way. After the third time, you stop in the doorway and glare at them. Joel stopped in the doorway when he saw the look on your face.
“What’s up with the two of you tonight?” You asked.
Tommy does his best to look confused and innocent. You glance over at Ellie as she tries to stifle her giggles.
“What do ya mean?” Tommy answered.
You sigh and put your hand on your hip. You know something is going on and you’re not going to let it go until you get an answer.
“What do I mean?” you ask. “I mean this.”
You gesture between the two of them.
“The two of you are up to something….out with it.”
The tone of your voice leaves no room for argument. You’re using your ‘mom’ voice now. Ellie knows from experience that you’re not messing around and she looks down at the table.
Tommy, on the other hand, is not so easily cowed. He stares at you for a moment, the corner of his lips curling into a smile.
“Look up.” Tommy said.
You and Joel raise your eyes and see mistletoe hanging from the header. It’s feels like all the oxygen has been sucked out of the room. Your cheeks burn as your eyes meet Joel’s and he chuckles nervously.
“Now you have to kiss!” Ellie squeals before dissolving in a fit of laughter.
You take a breath and smile at Joel. It’s just a kiss, right? People do it all the time. It doesn’t have to mean anything, except for the fact that you want it to mean something.
You tilt your chin and and brush your lips across Joel’s bearded cheek. There, you did it. You kissed Joel and now everyone can go on with their lives.
“Happy?”
You level your gaze at Tommy. This was his idea, you’re sure of it.
Tommy smirks at you, enjoying your discomfort. He’s probably going to get an ear full later, but it’ll be worth it.
“Doesn’t count.” he tells you.
“Doesn’t count?” you shoot back, your voice slightly rising in pitch.
“It doesn’t count.” he repeats. “It has to be on the lips or it doesn’t count.”
Your jaw dropped. You could kill Tommy right now. It would be embarrassing enough to kiss for your first kiss with Joel to be in front of his brother but your daughter is here too. You imagined your first kiss would be different…and in private.
“Yeah.” Ellie piped in. “It’s like the law or something.”
Joel watches the whole exchange barely suppressing a smile. He should be pissed that Tommy set the two of you up like this, but he’s not. He’s been looking for an excuse to kiss you since he met you and his brother just gave him one. He wraps one arm around your waist and slowly pulls you closer.
“They want a show, darlin’.” he rasped. “Let’s give ‘em one.”
His soft lips met yours and the rest of the world melted away. You raised up on your toes as your left had gripped his flannel shirt. His lips parted to suck in your lower lip, his beard lightly scraping your chin. He held the kiss for a few moments and the pulled away, leaving you both a little breathless.
“Oooooooh!” Ellie exclaimed.
The heels of your shoes hit the floor with a soft thud and you let go of his shirt. Did that really just happen? It wasn’t much of a kiss, as far as kisses go. It was like a kiss you’d see at a wedding ceremony, tame and a bit chaste but it would be seared in your minds for a long time after tonight.
It was only later, once you and Ellie made your way back towards your apartment that you noticed the many mistletoes that definitely hadn't been there earlier today hanging everywhere throughout the house and porch and you found yourself smiling at Tommy’s and Ellie's meddling.
Weekend 3 - Tree cut competition
For some reason, you kept spacing out throughout the days leading up to you final competition. Of course you’d say it's because of all the planing you have to do for the final dance and fundraiser.
But you know it's because of Joel.
Joel and how his hands held you. Joel and his soft brown eyes as he looked down at you under the mistletoe.
Joel and his lips as he kissed you.
It was just one kiss. One kiss the two of you hadn’t talked about since it happened, but you found yourself wishing more and more that there would be more.
More kisses.
More touching.
More…..
"Daydreaming again?“ you jumped when you heard Tommy's voice next to you. You were standing at the kitchen window, looking out over the fields that were covered by yet another fresh layer of snow.
"Huh?" you asked, looking at the grinning younger Miller brother.
„Nothing. Nothing. I have a favour to ask,“ he said and you crossed your arms in front of your chest, raising one eyebrow.
„Need more help from my daughter to hang up more mistletoes?“ You asked, seemingly annoyed, but not really.
„Nope. Our decoration work is done for now. Actually I wanted to ask if you could bring Joel his lunch on your way to pick up Ellie from school. He’s working on the far end of the farm today and I have customers all morning. He’s cutting down more trees for this weekend," he said and you hummed.
„You want me to bring Joel lunch?“ You asked again, and he nodded.
„Okay," you shrugged, before turning away from him. Clearly he anticipated some kind of argument, finding him looking at you with his lips parted in surprise when you looked back at him.
"What?" you asked, seemingly unbothered.
„Uh.... Nothing. I’ll…. I’ll get to the front then,“ he mumbled.
„Right. Because there are customers," you nodded and he nodded back, turning around to walk out.
„Jep. Lots of customers,“ he said, disappearing out of the kitchen as you smiled to yourself, before you went over to the fridge to prepare a sandwich for Joel.
You were thankful that thanks to almost getting lost in the woods on the farm at the beginning of your stay here, Tommy and Joel had insisted you’d share your location with them when you were on the farm and vice versa.
It was how you were able to find out exactly were Joel was working today. Driving the old truck carefully through the snow you followed your phone, Joel’s location getting closer and closer until you could see his truck parked next to a big tree.
Parking your car you grabbed the sandwich and the thermos of hot coffee you had prepared for him when you stepped out of the car. He could’t be too far away now.
Following the trail his boots must have made when he arrived you walked in between fully grown Christmas trees, some already cut down and packed ready to transport them back closer towards the farm when you spotted him.
He had taken his warm coat off, only wearing his green flannel, sleeves rolled back over his elbows as he swung the axe to cut down a tree.
For a moment time seemed to stop as you watched this… manly man use all his strength to cut down a tree. Suddenly feeling hot as you watched a line of sweat roll down his temple you didn’t watch were you're going, your feet missing something lying on the ground, eyes widening and a yelp that had Joel looking up at you escaping your lips as you tripped, already seeing yourself landing face first in the snow when you felt an arm wrap around your middle, seemingly catching you just seconds before you could fall.
Joel held you up, arm wrapped around your stomach, your back against his chest.
„You okay?“ he asked, out of breath.
Taking a shakily breath you nodded, eyes closing as you melted against him for just a second before you turned around, his arms giving you space to do so.
„Quite the reflexes you got there, Miller,“ you said with a small smile. You thought you saw his cheeks reddening just the tiniest bit before he chuckled. For a moment the two of you just looked at each other before you cleared your throat.
„I brought you lunch. Tommy asked me to,“ you said.
„Oh. That’s.... That's very nice of you,“ he smiled a little.
„It’s nothing. You need your strength after doing all of... that,“ you gestured around before you have him the sandwich you had packed and the thermos with coffee you had prepared. Thankfully nothing had spilled or been ruined by your almost fall.
„Thank you darlin’“ he said and you felt the butterflies everywhere hearing him call you that.
One moment you caught him glancing at your lips, the next moment he had you pressed against the side of his truck, lunch forgotten on the passengers seat as he kissed you.
Lips moving against yours as his body towered above you, caging you in.
You gasped as you felt his hand on the back of your neck, tilting your head up to get even closer as he used your lips parting against his to deepen the kiss.
You didn’t know if it was seconds, minutes or hours that he kissed you, before he parted from you, resting his forehead against yours.
„I gotta pick up Ellie,“ you whispered and he nodded.
„Can I come see you later?“ he asked and now it was you who nodded.
Instead of answering you he kissed you again. And you might or might have not needed a couple of minutes after in your truck to calm yourself down, before you finally made your way towards town to pick up Ellie.
And Joel?
Joel enjoyed the sandwich you made for him that was way better than the lunch he brought for himself. A lunch he had prepared while his brother had been with him in the kitchen.
"Can't believe you talked me into this," Joel grumbled, pulling at the fake beard that was covering half of his face.
„Me? Talking you into doing something? Nuh-uh. Don't have that much power,“ you grinned, your palms carefully rubbing over the soft fabric of the red velvety dress that you had ordered last minute on amazon.
Joel mumbled something under his breath that suspiciously sounded like "If you only knew.“
The farm was full with people, Tommy had even found some volunteers to help with the trees, the tree cut competition in full swing, and all that was missing were Joel and you, dressed up as Santa and Mrs. Claus.
Something you still couldn't believe Joel agreed to.
The idea to have Santa around for the kids had been on your idea list from the very beginning, but you couldn’t find anyone willing to take the role.
You would have never thought of asking Joel, but Tommy? Tommy was absolutely loving the idea.
And maybe it was when you and Tommy brought up how much it would cost to hire someone as Santa for a couple of hours and Tommy telling him to come on, do it for Ellie. How exactly you got roped into this, you still weren't sure.
But who were you to say no to those big brown Miller eyes, telling you he'd be in if you were his Mrs. Claus?
You felt Joel's hand on your hip as he turned you around and towards him. With a smile you looked up at him.
„When all of his is done, all the competitions and dances and shit… I wanna take you out. Get to know you more. Learn more about you," he said and your smile widened.
"Like on a date?" you asked.
„Yeah. Like on a date. Would you like that?“ he asked.
You got on your tiptoes, carefully pulling at the white beard that covered his face to reveal his lips to you before you softly kissed his lips, eyes fluttering closed.
„I would love that,“ you whispered, before you pulled his fake beard back into place, patting his chest. He gave you a wide smile before he carefully fixed your wig.
„Ready?“ You asked and he nodded before he took your hand.
„Ready."
Your cheeks were hurting from how much you had been smiling all day. Turned out putting Joel into a red Santa suit was all it took to put him in such a good mood, even Tommy was stunned.
Okay, maybe you had something to to with his mood too, but no one had to know that yet.
It was towards the end of the day, the crowds thinning out that you saw Ellie walk towards Santa with Tommy. You excused yourself, not wanting her to notice it was you, hiding behind a big decorated tree.
Even though Ellie was about to be ten years old, she still believed in Santa. And you wanted her to do so for as long as possible.
„Ellie! I wondered if you would come to see me!“ Joel said in his Santa voice and you smiled softly. He had been doing a great job all day.
„You know me?" she asked and you couldn't see them but you caught Tommy's eyes as he looked at you with a small smile.
„Of course I do! You're at the top of the list for the kids that use curse words too much!“ he said and you fought against the laugh that was trying to escape you. You could only imagine the horrified face of your daughter when you heard:
„But let me tell you a secret. Even I curse from time to time,“ Joel as Santa said and you wished you could see them.
„You do?“ Ellie asked.
„Fuck yeah I do," Joel said and they both laughed.
„So Ellie, what do you wish for Christmas this year?“ he asked and you wanted for what her answer would be.
„I want my mom to be happy," she said and you stopped breathing.
"Don't you think she’s happy?" Joel asked.
„I think so. But with everything that happened with my dad and the accident… I want her to be even happier? You know with kissing and stuff? Even though I don't understand how grown ups like that,“ She asked and you found yourself chuckling quietly.
Joel as Santa chuckled too.
"I'll see what I can do, Ellie,“ he said.
„Oh and I would really love a new set of watercolours. The big ones with all the colours," she said and you were glad you already got these for her.
It was almost 10 pm, Ellie long in bed and you and Joel thankfully out of the costumes when the last people left. Tommy had also left the house to stay with his girlfriend Maria, leaving you and Joel sitting in front of the fire place, both with a drink in hand.
You had taken to spending the evenings in the main house either with Tommy or Joel or the both of them.
„Never said thank you," Joel said all of the sudden and you looked at him.
„Huh?"
„For your help here at the farm and… for dealing with my grumpy ass all the time,“ he continued.
„It’s a nice ass to deal with," you teased and he raised one eyebrow.
"That so?“ he hummed and you nodded.
„Especially in those dark work jeans you keep wearing,“ you winked and he licked his lips, his eyes roaming all over your body before he looked into your eyes again.
"I'll keep that in mind, darlin’“
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