#Got creative with the text at the end... they both thinking the same thing type thing slkdfjds

[mrs-delaney]

Hide | Chapter Fourteen | Angels Like You

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pairing: joe burrow x riley carter (oc) word count: 10.5k ish requested: no ⚠️ just a little warning: joe gets hurt in this one—not graphic, but it’s serious—and the emotional vibes are very much “something’s not right.” if that’s a tough headspace, skip or pause as needed.

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Author’s Note: posting two days in a row?? wild. who is she??

work’s been a little slow this week so i’ve been writing in between meetings (sorry to my boss..even though he sees me fuckin' around). this one’s a bit shorter, but it felt right to give it its own space.

this chapter's got that underlying hurt—you know, where nothing's actually exploded but everything still feels wrong somehow. not broken exactly, just... uneasy. like everyone's walking on eggshells but trying to pretend they're not. that's kind of where we are right now.

this part of the story is loosely based on real events. creative liberties were taken. timelines were bent.

thanks for being here. i really mean it. 💛

Taglist: @wickedfun9 @starsyoongi @amiets2 @palmettogal508 @throwaway12356123 @lilfreakjez @destinyg237

August 26

Joe walks off the sideline still thinking about Riley's voice when she hung up on him days ago. The preseason game against the Commanders just ended—they won, 24-17—but he spent most of it watching from the bench, his mind three thousand miles away. He played one series in the first quarter, handed off twice, and that was it.

"Good game, Joe," someone calls out, maybe a coach, maybe a teammate. He nods without really seeing them, already pulling his phone from his locker.

Still no response to any of his texts. It feels like an eternity of silence.

Joe showers quickly, throws on sweats and a hoodie, and ignores the team bus idling outside the stadium. Instead, he calls Sarah.

"I need a jet," he says without preamble.

"Tonight? Joe, you just played—"

"Tonight. To LAX. How fast can you make it happen?"

There's a pause. Sarah's been his assistant for two years; she knows when not to ask questions. "Give me an hour. Where are you going from LAX?"

"I'll figure it out when I get there."

The drive to the private airfield outside Washington gives Joe time to think, which is both a blessing and a curse. He keeps replaying Riley's voice from that phone call—When push comes to shove, I'm the problem you need to manage—and realizing she wasn't wrong.

He tries calling her again as he waits for the jet to be prepped. Straight to voicemail, same as it's been for days.

"Riley, it's me again," he says after the beep. "I know you probably don't want to hear from me right now, but... just call me back. Please."

He hangs up and immediately wants to try again, but forces himself to put the phone away. If she wanted to talk to him, she would have by now.

The pilot doesn't ask questions about the last-minute flight or why Joe looks like shit.

He pulls out his phone and stares at his last text to Riley: Still hoping you'll be there Saturday.

She never responded. Which means she's probably not coming to Cincinnati. Which means this thing between them might actually be over, might have ended with that terrible phone call where he said all the wrong things and she hung up on him.

Joe opens a new message and starts typing: I'm coming to see you.

He deletes it. Tries again: We need to talk.

Deletes that too.

The truth is, he's terrified she'll tell him not to come. That she'll say she doesn't want to see him, that they're done, that he's too late. So instead of giving her the chance to reject him, he's just going to show up and hope she'll at least let him explain.

It's not his usual approach—Joe plans things, thinks them through, weighs the options. But planning hasn't been working when it comes to Riley. Every time he tries to be careful, to manage the situation, he makes it worse.

Maybe it's time to stop being careful.

The flight attendant offers him dinner, but Joe's stomach is too twisted to eat. He accepts water instead and uses the wifi to book a rental car, then immediately second-guesses the choice. Should he take an Uber? Less traceable, but also less reliable if Riley wants him to leave quickly.

God, he doesn't even know if she's home. For all he knows, she could be anywhere—New Orleans, Nashville, Colorado, literally anywhere. He hasn't heard from her team either, despite texting Pete directly yesterday.

Joe stares out the window at the dark expanse of America passing below and tries to figure out what he's going to say when he sees her. I'm sorryseems inadequate. I was scared sounds like an excuse. I love you feels true but not enough - not when love hasn't stopped him from hurting her.

His phone buzzes with a text from his dad: How'd the game go?

Joe types back: Fine. Flying to LA.

The response comes quickly: Good. Bring her home.

It's such a simple statement. Bring her home. Like she belongs there, like she belongs with him. Even though they haven't met her yet.

The pilot's voice crackles over the intercom: "We'll be beginning our descent into Los Angeles in about twenty minutes."

Joe's hands start to sweat. Twenty minutes until he finds out if the person he loves still wants anything to do with him.

He tries her number one more time. It rings once, twice, three times, then goes to voicemail. 

"It's me," he says. "I... I'm sorry about everything. About the phone call, about not being there when you needed me, about being an idiot. I'm going to try to fix this, okay? If you'll let me."

He hangs up and immediately regrets it. He should have said more, should have explained, should have told her he was coming. But it's too late now.

The rental car is waiting. Joe plugs Riley's address into the GPS and drives.

The drive from LAX to Laurel Canyon takes forty minutes. Joe's locked in now, the way he gets before big games. One objective: get to Riley. Everything else is noise.

But what if she's not alone?

It's been days since they talked. Days for her to decide she's done with his shit, done with being treated like a secret, done with dating someone who chooses his image over her every time it matters. Someone like maybe Dom.

Joe pushes the thought away and focuses on driving, on the narrow roads and expensive houses hidden behind gates and perfectly manicured hedges. Riley's neighborhood is quiet, peaceful, the kind of place where showing up unannounced at midnight might get the cops called.

He turns onto her street. Her house sits at the end of a curved driveway, lights on in the living room. Her car's the only one there.

Joe parks on the street and sits in the rental car for a full minute, staring at her front door. This is it. This is where he finds out if he still has her or if he's lost the best thing that's ever happened to him.

He gets out of the car and walks to her door.

Once he reaches her front door he just stands there, hand raised to knock, suddenly terrified of what comes next.

* * *

Riley sits cross-legged on her living room floor, acoustic guitar balanced across her lap, surrounded by scattered pieces of paper covered in crossed-out lines and half-formed verses. It's past 1 AM, but sleep feels impossible when her chest is this tight with words that need to come out.

She strums the same chord progression she's been working on for the past hour, humming a melody that feels too raw to sing at full voice yet. The notebook beside her is open to a page that reads:

Baby, angels like you can't fly down hell with me I'm everything they said I would be

She stops playing and scratches out the second line, tries again:

I'm everything you didn't want me to be

That's not right either. Riley sets the guitar aside and pulls her knees to her chest, staring at the mess of papers around her. Days of not responding to Joe,  days of writing songs that all sound like goodbye letters she'll never send.

Her phone sits face-down on the coffee table, silent since she finally set up the new one yesterday and saw all his unanswered messages flood in at once. She'd read them, all of them, but couldn't bring herself to respond. What was there to say? That she missed him? That she was tired of feeling like a problem he needed to solve?

Riley reaches for the guitar again, finds the melody, tries a different approach:

They say that misery loves company It's not your fault I ruin everything

The knock at her front door makes her freeze mid-strum.

She glances at the clock on her phone. 1:23 AM. Who the hell shows up at her house at 1:23 in the morning?

The knock comes again, more insistent this time.

Riley sets the guitar aside and pads to the front door in her bare feet, wearing an oversized t-shirt that hangs to her mid-thigh and shorts that disappear under the hem. She expects to see Pete through the peephole, or maybe Andy having another late-night crisis about some girl.

Instead, she sees Joe Burrow standing on her doorstep in sweats and a hoodie, looking like he just traveled three thousand miles to be there.

Which, apparently, he did.

Riley stares through the peephole for a full ten seconds, convinced she's hallucinating. Joe doesn't make grand gestures. Joe doesn't show up unannounced. Joe definitely doesn't fly across the country in the middle of the night.

But there he is.

She unlocks the door and opens it slowly, not trusting her voice yet.

"Hi," he says simply.

Riley blinks at him, still processing. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to make sure you get on a plane to Cincinnati."

Riley stares at him. "You... what?"

"Your flight. Tomorrow. I need to know you're still coming."

She opens her mouth, closes it again. Of all the things she might have expected Joe to say, this wasn't one of them. "You flew here to ask me that?"

"I flew here because I fucked up…again."

Riley stares at him for another long moment. "You got that right," she says finally. 

She steps back from the door, and Joe takes it as an invitation to come inside. The living room is covered in evidence of sleepless nights: papers scattered across the coffee table and floor, her guitar propped against the couch, lyrics scrawled in her messy handwriting.

Riley closes the door behind him and crosses her arms, suddenly aware that she's barely dressed and he's standing in her living room in the middle of the night like this isn't completely insane.

"Shouldn't you be in Maryland?" she asks, trying to find her footing in this conversation.

"Game ended hours ago." Joe's looking at the papers around her guitar, probably reading the fragments of lyrics she's been working on. "You've been writing."

"I've been doing a lot of things." Riley moves to gather some of the papers, suddenly self-conscious about him seeing her raw thoughts scattered everywhere. "What do you want, Joe?"

"I want to know if you're coming to Cincinnati tomorrow."

Riley stops collecting papers and looks at him. "Why would I be coming to Cincinnati?"

"Your flight. You had a flight booked."

"Had being the key word." Riley sits down on the edge of her couch, putting some distance between them. "I canceled it."

Something shifts in Joe's expression. "When?"

"The other day. I'm exhausted with this, Joe."

"I know. That's why I'm here."

Riley looks at him for a long moment. "You think showing up fixes it?"

"I think not showing up definitely doesn't."

She's quiet, processing that. Joe stays where he is, not moving closer, not trying to crowd her space.

"My team lost their minds when they saw the headlines," he says finally. "Started talking about damage control and how this could affect my image. And I listened to them instead of calling you back first."

Riley doesn't respond right away.

"I panicked. When I saw those photos, when I heard what people were saying... I thought about protecting myself before I thought about protecting you."

Riley wraps her arms tighter around herself. "That's the problem, Joe. When things get hard, your first instinct is to pull away from me, not toward me."

"I know."

"Really? Do you Joe? Because this isn't the first time. Every time there's any kind of pressure or scrutiny, you treat me like I'm the complication."

Joe runs a hand through his hair. "You're not a complication."

"Then why do I always feel like one?"

Joe is quiet for a long moment. "Because I don't know how to do this. I don't know how to have you in my life and deal with everyone else's opinions about it. So when things get complicated, I default to what I know - protecting what I can control."

"At least you're honest about it. But Joe, I can't keep being the thing you sacrifice every time you get scared." Riley shifts on the couch, pulling her knees closer. "I know I'm not easy. I know my life is messy and unpredictable and nothing like what you're used to. But I can't keep wondering if you're going to choose me or choose everyone else's opinion of me."

"I'm trying to figure out how to do that.  Choose you."

Joe moves closer, crouching down in front of the couch so he can see her face. "Don't give up on this. On us."

Riley looks at him, eyes tired. "This hurts, Joe."

"I know. I don't want to hurt you. Stay with me while I figure it out?"

She studies his face like she's looking for something she's not sure is there. "You keep asking me to wait while you figure it out. But what if you don't? What if this is just who we are?"

"I don't want it to be."

"Wanting isn't the same as changing." She's quiet for a moment. "But yeah. Okay. I'll stay."

"Even though you shouldn't."

"Probably because I shouldn't."

Joe takes what feels like the first deep breath he's had in days.

He reaches for her hand, and she lets him take it. Her fingers are cold, and he realizes she's been sitting here for hours writing, probably not taking care of herself the way she does when she's processing something hard.

"Come here," he says quietly, and gently pulls her up from the couch.

Riley stands on unsteady legs, and Joe wraps his arms around her, pulling her against his chest. She melts into him immediately, her face pressed against his hoodie, and he can feel some of the tension leave her body.

They stand like that for a long moment, just holding each other. Joe rests his chin on top of her head, breathing in the familiar scent of her shampoo, feeling the relief wash over him that she's here, that she's his, that she said okay.

Riley's arms tighten around his waist, and Joe realizes she's crying - not sobs, just quiet tears that soak through his hoodie.

"I missed you," she whispers against his chest.

"I missed you too," he says, his voice rough. "So much."

* * *

They stay like that, wrapped around each other in her living room surrounded by scattered lyrics and the evidence of her sleepless nights. It's relief and comfort and the simple fact that they fit together, even when everything else feels broken.

Riley pulls back just enough to look at his face, her hands coming up to rest against his chest. "You hate grand gestures."

"I had to. I was going crazy."

She studies his expression, searching for something. When she finds it, Joe leans down and kisses her.

It's soft at first, tentative, like he's not sure if this is allowed. But Riley's hands fist in his hoodie, and she kisses him back with weeks of missing him, and Joe makes a small sound against her mouth that goes straight through her.

"Bird," he breathes against her lips.

"I know," she whispers. "I know."

She takes his hand and leads him down the hall to her bedroom, and this time it's different from every other time they've been together. Slower, more careful. Like they're both afraid the other might disappear.

Joe pulls off his hoodie while Riley sits on the edge of her bed, just watching him. When he reaches for the hem of her oversized t-shirt, she lets him pull it over her head, and then they're skin to skin for the first time in too long.

"I thought I fucked this up forever," Joe says quietly, his forehead resting against hers.

"You didn't," Riley says, even though they both know how close he came.

When he touches her, it's with reverence, like he's memorizing every inch. When she moves against him, it's with a kind of desperate tenderness, like she's trying to pour all her forgiveness into the space between their bodies.

It's not gentle, not really. They cling to each other, pace quick and rough, both of them chasing relief and something like grace. Neither of them talks. Just the sound of skin and breath, desperate and seeking, like they're trying to say I'm sorry, I love you, don't leave again—all without words.

"Joe," Riley breathes against his mouth, her hands fisted in his hair.

"Me too," he says back, his voice rough.

She pulls him closer, desperate. "Don't—" she starts, then stops, but Joe knows what she means.

"I won't," he promises against her throat. "I'm not stopping. I'm not going anywhere."

When she's close, she whispers his name like a prayer, over and over, and Joe has to bite down on her shoulder to keep from falling apart completely.

"Please," she whispers, and he knows what she needs.

"Come on, baby," he murmurs back.

When Riley comes, it’s quiet, her body shaking with it, face pressed to his shoulder. Joe follows right after, everything tightening at once, her name muffled against her skin.

After, they don’t move. He just holds her, breathing her in, as if he could anchor himself to this moment and never let go.

"Come back with me," Joe says eventually. 

"Joe." 

"Please, Riley." 

"You know I will." She sighs. "When do you want to leave?" 

"In the morning? When we wake up?" 

"Okay."

She settles back against his chest, and Joe feels something ease in his chest that's been tight for days. It's not fixed - he knows that. The conversation they had in the living room doesn't solve the fundamental problem between them. But she's here, and she's his, and tomorrow they'll figure out the rest.

* * *

Early September 

Riley stares out the airplane window at the darkness below, her reflection ghostlike in the glass. The red-eye from Cincinnati to London is half empty, which means she has an entire row to herself to spread out and pretend she's not exhausted down to her bones.

Thirty-six hours. She could have stayed in London, slept off the jet lag, maybe seen a show in the West End. But no—she flew to Cincinnati instead, burning through her only real break because she thought things might be different after LA. Thirty-six hours of watching Joe slip right back into the same patterns that broke them apart in the first place.

Her phone buzzes with a text from Pete: Safe flight. Get some sleep. Love you.

She types back: Can't sleep. Too wired.

What she doesn't text is that nothing has changed. That Joe flying to LA, showing up at her door, asking her to stay with him—none of it actually fixed the thing that's wrong between them.

Yesterday afternoon, Joe's living room:

"The Steelers run a lot of zone coverage on third down," Joe muttered to himself, remote in hand, rewinding the same play for the fourth time.

Riley looked up from her book—she'd given up trying to have a conversation twenty minutes earlier. "Joe."

"Mmm?" He didn't look away from the screen.

"Remember when you said you were trying to figure out how to choose me?"

That got his attention. He paused the film and turned to her. "I am trying."

"Yeah? Because this feels exactly like it did before."

Joe's jaw tightened slightly. "It's Week 1, Riley. This is important."

"And I'm not?"

"That's not what I said."

But Riley could see it in his face—the same look he got whenever football took priority. The same wall going up.

Riley shifts in her seat now, curling sideways against the window. The flight attendant offers her a blanket, which she accepts with a tired smile.

Her phone lights up with a message from Joe: Miss you already.

She stares at the text for a long moment before responding: Miss you too.

But the truth is she doesn't just miss him—she misses who he used to be with her. The Joe who would actually turn off his phone. Who cared about her day, not just the parts that fit around football. This version feels like someone else entirely.

This morning, Joe's kitchen:

"I can drive you to the airport," Joe offered, grabbing his keys.

"It's fine. I called a car."

"You sure? I don't have meetings until noon."

Riley could see he was already mentally somewhere else—probably thinking about practice, about the game plan, about everything except the fact that she was leaving again. "Yeah, I'm sure."

He kissed her goodbye at the door, distracted and quick. "Text me when you land?"

"I will."

But they both knew he probably wouldn't see it until hours later, buried between messages from coaches and teammates and everyone else who took precedence during football season.

Riley closes her eyes and tries to find a comfortable position. Seven more hours until London, then a full day of interviews where she'll have to smile and talk about her music while running on no sleep and too much caffeine.

Her phone buzzes again. A text from Andy: How was Cincinnati?

She types and deletes three different responses before settling on: Fine.

It's not fine, though. Nothing about this feels fine. Joe said he was trying to figure out how to choose her, but the moment football season started, everything went right back to how it was before.

She's still the only one reaching. Loving him is starting to feel like chasing him.

Riley looks at her phone again. Joe's "miss you already" text, her automatic "Miss you too" response. A week ago, that exchange would have made her heart race. Now it just feels hollow.

When did she become the only one reaching? When did loving him start feeling like chasing him?

Seven hours to London. Seven hours to figure out how to smile and talk about her music while pretending everything's fine.

For the first time since that night in her living room when Joe asked her to stay with him, Riley wonders if she should have said no.

* * *

September-1st Game of the Season

Riley - 2:47 PM London time (9:47 AM Cincinnati): Good luck today baby. I know you're going to be amazing.

Riley - 3:15 PM: Thinking about you. Wish I could be there.

Riley - 4:30 PM: Still no response? Everything okay?

Riley - 5:45 PM: Joe?

Riley stares at her phone screen in her London hotel room, watching the delivered messages pile up with no response. She's been up since 6 AM doing BBC Radio interviews, but all she can think about is Joe's first game of the season starting in an hour.

Riley - 6:00 PM (1:00 PM Cincinnati - Kickoff): Game's starting. I'm watching on my laptop. You've got this.

She settles into bed with her laptop balanced on her knees, the NFL app streaming the Bengals vs. Steelers game. The hotel room is dark except for the glow of the screen, and Riley pulls a blanket around herself as she watches Joe take the field.

Riley - 6:23 PM: You look so focused out there. Doing amazing.

Riley - 6:45 PM: I have no idea what's happening but you look good doing it.

Riley - 7:30 PM (Halftime): They're winning but you've got this. Second half.

The Bengals are struggling. Pittsburgh's defense is relentless, and Joe's getting pressured on every play. Riley finds herself holding her breath every time he drops back to pass, texting encouragement she knows he won't see until after the game.

Riley - 8:15 PM: That hit looked bad. Are you okay?

Riley - 8:47 PM: Come on baby. One touchdown. You can do this.

Riley - 9:20 PM (Game ends, Bengals lose 21-10): I'm sorry. You played your heart out. You'll get them next time.

Riley - 9:45 PM: Joe? Just want to make sure you're okay.

Riley - 11:30 PM: I know you're probably in meetings or with the team. Call me when you can?

Riley - 1:15 AM: Are you ignoring me?

It's nearly 2 AM London time when Riley's phone finally buzzes with an incoming FaceTime call. She answers immediately, and Joe's face appears on screen—hair still damp from the shower, jaw tight with frustration.

"Hey," she says softly. "Are you okay?"

"No, I'm not okay. We lost." His voice is flat, exhausted.

"I watched the whole game. You looked good out there, even though they kept hitting you—"

"Riley, I don't want to talk about the game."

She blinks, taken aback by his tone. "Okay. I was just... I was trying to be supportive. I sent you texts all day."

"I don't check my phone on game days."

"What?"

Joe rubs his face with his hands. "I don't talk to anyone the day before or day of games. I go dark."

Riley stares at him through the screen. "You never told me that."

"I thought you knew."

"How would I know that? You've never mentioned it once." Her voice gets sharper. "I stayed up all night watching your game, Joe. I've been worried sick because you weren't responding to anything."

"I can't be thinking about texts when I'm trying to prepare."

"I wasn't asking you to respond during the game. But before? After? Some acknowledgment that your girlfriend exists?"

Joe's expression hardens. "This is exactly why I don't talk to people on game days. I can't deal with this right now."

"Deal with what? Me caring about you?"

"I lost, Riley. I threw two interceptions. The last thing I need is—"

"Is what? Support? Someone who care about you trying to be there for you?"

"I need space to process this."

Riley feels something cold settle in her chest. "Space from me."

"Space from everyone."

"But especially me."

Joe doesn't deny it, and that silence says everything.

"I can't do this," Riley says quietly. "I can't keep being shut out of the most important part of your life."

"Football has to come first during the season. You know that."

"I know that football is important. What I didn't know is that means I don't exist."

Joe's jaw tightens. "That's not fair."

"Are you kidding me? When do I come first, Joe? When do I get to matter?"

"Riley—"

But she's already ended the call.

Riley sits in her dark hotel room, staring at the black screen of her phone. It's 2:30 AM in London, and she has morning interviews in six hours. But all she can think about is the look on Joe's face when she asked when she gets to matter.

Like it was a question he'd never considered before.

Riley's phone buzzes less than five minutes after she ended the call. Joe's name appears on the screen.

She stares at it for two rings before answering.

"What?"

"Don't hang up." Joe's voice is quieter now, less sharp. "Please."

Riley doesn't say anything, but she doesn't hang up either.

"I'm sorry," he says. "I shouldn't have taken the loss out on you."

"No, you shouldn't have."

"And I should have told you about game days. I assumed you knew, but you didn't. That's on me."

Riley shifts against her hotel pillows, exhausted. "Joe, I stayed up all night to watch you play. I was trying to support you."

"I know. And I appreciate that, I do. I just... I don't think clearly after losses."

"It's not just about tonight. It's about me not knowing basic things about your life. About feeling like I'm always on the outside of the most important part of who you are."

Joe is quiet for a moment. "I'll try to be more upfront about what game day stuff looks like for me. What the season looks like. I don't want you feeling shut out."

"Okay."

"Are we okay?"

Riley closes her eyes. She's too tired to fight, too tired to explain again why this hurt. "Yeah. We're okay."

"Get some sleep. I know you have early interviews."

"Yeah. I do."

"Riley?"

"What?"

"Thank you. For watching. For caring. I know I didn't say that before."

"You're welcome."

After they hang up, Riley lies in the dark staring at the ceiling. Joe apologized, promised to be more communicative about his boundaries. It should feel like progress.

Instead, it just feels like another conversation where she has to adjust her expectations to fit his world.

Riley sets an alarm and tries to fall asleep.

* * *

Riley sits cross-legged on the floor of the rehearsal studio, still catching her breath from running through "Lonely Is the Muse" for the tenth time today. The mock stage setup towers behind her—lights, risers, even a replica of the LED backdrop that will follow them around the world. Her phone is propped against her water bottle as she FaceTimes Joe, who's presumably at home in Cincinnati.

"You should see this setup," she says, angling the phone so he can see the stage. "It's insane. Andy designed this whole lighting sequence that syncs with the guitar solo in 'Lilith,' and Pete's been working on these harmonies that—"

"That's cool," Joe says, but his attention seems split. Riley can see him looking at something off-camera.

"Are you listening to me?"

"Just checking something real quick." He looks back at the phone. "Sorry. The stage looks good."

Riley tries not to let her irritation show. "We've been rehearsing for twelve hours a day. I'm exhausted but also kind of terrified and excited all at the same time. Tour starts in three weeks."

"You'll be great. You always are."

"I hope so." Riley shifts, tucking her legs under her. "Actually, I was thinking—you have your bye week coming up, right? End of October?"

"Yeah."

"You should come here. See the rehearsals, hang out while we're in prep mode. I could show you around the studio complex, introduce you to everyone properly." Riley's voice gets more animated as she talks. "You could watch us work through the setlist, see what this whole thing looks like from the inside."

Joe is quiet for a moment. "I don't know, Riley."

"What do you mean you don't know?"

"I mean, bye weeks are usually when I catch up on rest. Recovery. I don't really go anywhere during the season."

Riley frowns. "But it's your week off. And I'm asking you to come see something that's really important to me."

"I know it's important—"

"I don't think you do. Because it feels like you think my work is just a fun little hobby compared to yours."

"That's not true."

"Then why won't you come?"

Joe runs a hand through his hair, looking uncomfortable. "It's complicated."

"How is it complicated? You get on a plane, you come to LA, you spend time with your girlfriend. What's complicated about that?"

"Riley, we're still laying low, remember? After the whole Ethan thing? My team thinks it's better if I'm not seen—"

"Your team thinks it's better if you're not seen with me."

"That's not what I said."

"It's what you meant." Riley's voice gets sharper. "Joe, that was two months ago. How long are we supposed to hide because my drunk ex made a scene?"

"It's not hiding, it's being smart. The season just started, and things are going well, and I don't want to create any distractions—"

"I'm a distraction."

"No, the media attention is a distraction."

"Same thing." Riley stands up, pacing the small area in front of her phone. "God, we're right back where we started, aren't we?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, you're still more worried about how things look than about being with me. Nothing's actually changed."

Joe's jaw tightens. "Come on, Riley. I've been trying to be better about communication—"

"Communication isn't the only problem, Joe. The problem is that you don't want to be seen with me. The problem is that I've flown to Cincinnati three times in the past month, but you won't come here once because you're worried about your precious image."

"Riley—"

"When's the last time you came to my world? When's the last time you made an effort to see what my life looks like instead of me always fitting into yours?"

"I came to your show in LA—"

"You came to my show in July with your friends, and that's it." Riley's voice cracks slightly. "I'm about to go on tour, Joe. This is the last chance we have to spend time together before I'm gone for months, and you're worried about people taking pictures of us."

Joe is quiet, and Riley can see him processing what she's saying. Finally, he speaks. "I just think it's better to be careful right now."

Riley stops pacing. "Better for who?"

"For both of us."

"No, Joe. Better for you. This is better for you." She picks up her phone, bringing it closer to her face. "I'm tired of being your secret. I'm tired of being the thing you have to manage and protect and hide from the world."

"You're not—"

"I am, though. That's exactly what I am." Riley's voice gets quieter, more defeated. "You know what? Forget I asked. Enjoy your bye week. Rest up, recover, do whatever you need to do."

"Riley, don't hang up. Let's talk about this."

"What's there to talk about? You made your choice. You always make the same choice."

"That's not true."

Riley looks at him through the screen, this man she's been trying to love despite how hard he makes it. "Name one time you've chosen me over what's safe for your career. One time."

Joe opens his mouth, then closes it. The silence stretches between them.

"That's what I thought," Riley says quietly.

"Riley—"

But she's already ended the call.

Riley sits in the empty rehearsal studio, surrounded by the elaborate stage setup that represents months of planning and preparation for the biggest tour of her career. In three weeks, she'll be performing these songs for thousands of people who love her music, who've been waiting for this moment almost as much as she has.

And the person she wants to share it with most is too worried about his image to show up.

She picks up her guitar and starts playing the opening chords to "Lonely Is the Muse," letting the music fill the silence Joe left behind.

* * *

Late October 

Riley sits on Joe's couch, watching him ice his shin for the third time since she arrived two hours ago. He's been rotating between the couch and the kitchen, restless and irritated, moving the ice pack every few minutes like he can't get comfortable.

"How long has it been bothering you?" she asks, setting down her coffee.

"Couple weeks." Joe adjusts the ice pack, wincing slightly. "It's fine. Just annoying."

"Have you had it looked at?"

"Yeah. They said it's minor. Just needs rest."

Riley watches him fidget with the ice pack, his jaw tight with frustration. She flew in this morning from LA, using her one day off between rehearsal blocks to see him, and he's been like this since she walked in the door—distracted, moody, barely acknowledging that she's here.

"You've seemed off," she says carefully. She's been watching his games when she can, trying to understand his world better after their last fight.

Joe's head snaps up. "What?"

"In the games I've watched. You just look... frustrated. More than usual."

"Since when do you analyze my games?"

"Since I'm trying to understand what's going on with you." Riley shifts on the couch to face him. "You look different out there."

"I'm fine."

"You're not fine. You're limping around your house icing your leg every twenty minutes."

Joe stands up abruptly, the ice pack falling to the floor. "It's just a minor thing. Shin splints or something. It'll heal."

"Joe—"

"I don't want to talk about it."

Riley stares at him as he paces to the kitchen, his movements stilted and careful. She's seen him frustrated before, but this feels different. Angrier. Like he's mad at his own body for betraying him.

"I'm trying to help," she says when he comes back with a different ice pack.

"I don't need help. I need this thing to stop hurting so I can play."

"Maybe you need to take some time—"

"I can't take time. We're 4-3, Riley. Every game matters."

"Your health matters too."

Joe laughs, but there's no humor in it. "My health matters when we're winning. Right now, I need to play through whatever this is."

Riley watches him settle back on the couch, immediately shifting to find a comfortable position for his leg. "Is this why you've been so..."

"So what?"

"Distant. Moody. Harder to reach than usual."

"I haven't been moody."

"Joe, I texted you good morning three days ago and you responded with 'ok.'"

"I was busy."

"With what? Icing your shin?"

Joe's expression darkens. "Don't."

"Don't what? Point out that you're taking your frustration out on me?"

"I'm not taking anything out on you."

"Then why does it feel like you resent me being here?"

Joe is quiet for a long moment, staring at the ice pack on his shin. "I don't resent you being here."

"You haven't asked me about tour prep once since I got here. You haven't asked about my day, about the flight, about anything. I might as well be invisible."

"I've got a lot on my mind."

"I know. Your shin, the games, the pressure. I get it. But I'm here, Joe. I'm trying to be supportive, and you're acting like I'm bothering you."

 Joe looks at her then, and for a moment his expression softens. "You're not bothering me."

"Then what's going on? Because this feels like more than just a sore leg."

Joe runs a hand through his hair, a gesture Riley recognizes as him trying to find words he doesn't want to say. "Everything's off right now. My timing, my accuracy, my decision-making. And this stupid shin thing is making it worse because I can't plant my foot right."

"So fix it. See a specialist, get treatment, whatever you need to do."

"It's not that simple."

"Why not?"

"Because if they think it's serious, they'll want me to sit. And I can't sit. Not with how we're playing."

Riley stares at him. "You'd rather play hurt than take care of yourself?"

"I'd rather not let my team down."

"What about letting yourself down? What about letting me down by shutting me out every time something goes wrong?"

Joe's jaw tightens again. "That's not what I'm doing."

"But that's what it feels like. From where I'm sitting, it feels exactly like what you're doing."

They sit in silence for a moment, the tension thick between them. Riley watches Joe adjust the ice pack again, his movements careful and frustrated.

"Maybe I should just give you some space," she says finally.

"You don't have to do that."

"Yeah, I do. You clearly don't want company right now."

"Riley—"

But she's already standing, heading toward the stairs. "I'm going to go read or something. Let me know if you need anything."

Joe doesn't argue, doesn't get up from the couch, doesn't try to stop her.

Riley goes upstairs to his bedroom and closes the door behind her. She sits on the edge of the bed, staring at her phone, wondering why she keeps coming back to someone who makes her feel more alone when she's with him than when she's actually alone.

Twenty minutes later, she hears footsteps on the stairs. Joe opens the bedroom door quietly, like he's not sure if she wants to see him.

"Hey," he says from the doorway.

Riley looks up from her phone. "Hey."

"Can I come in?"

She nods, and Joe walks over to the bed, sitting down beside her with a slight wince as he adjusts his leg.

"I'm sorry," he says quietly. "I've been an ass."

Joe runs a hand through his hair. "This thing with my shin, it's got me all fucked up. I can't plant my foot right, and it's throwing off everything. My throws, my reads, my timing. Everything feels off."

Riley turns to face him. "So why take it out on me?"

"I don't know. Because you're here, I guess. Because it's easier than dealing with the fact that I might be losing a step."

"You're not losing a step. You're hurt."

"Same thing in this business."

Riley studies his face, seeing the frustration and fear he's been hiding behind his moodiness. "Joe, you can talk to me about this stuff. I want you to talk to me about it."

"I know. I just... I don't like feeling weak."

"Being hurt isn't weak. Being an asshole to the people who care about you is."

Joe looks at her, and for the first time all day, he really sees her. "You flew here to see me."

"I did."

"And I've been treating you like shit since you walked in."

"Pretty much."

Joe reaches for her hand. "I'm sorry, Riley. Really. I don't want you to feel like you're not welcome here."

Riley squeezes his hand. "I just want to help. I want to be here for you when things are hard."

"You are. Even when I'm too stupid to appreciate it."

They sit in silence for a moment before Joe lies back on the bed, pulling Riley down with him. She curls up against his side, careful of his injured leg.

"I'm sorry I made you feel like you didn't matter."

Riley lifts her head to look at him. "Do I matter?"

"You matter the most Birdie."

* * *

November

The pocket collapses faster than Joe expects.

He's got Ja'Marr running a comeback route, sees the window opening, but Baltimore's pass rush is relentless tonight. Roquan Smith is coming hard from the left side, and Joe feels the familiar pressure that means he's got maybe half a second to get rid of the ball.

He steps up in the pocket, trying to buy time, but the protection breaks down completely. Bodies everywhere, purple jerseys converging. Joe scrambles right, looking for an escape route, the ball still tucked against his chest.

The hit comes from behind and to the side—a combination of defensive linemen collapsing the pocket. Joe goes down hard, his right hand hitting the turf first as he tries to brace his fall. The impact sends a shock wave up his arm, but it's not until he tries to push himself up that he feels it.

Sharp, electric pain shooting from his wrist straight up to his elbow.

Joe rolls over, sitting up on the field, and looks down at his right hand. It looks normal, but when he tries to flex his wrist, the pain is immediate and breathtaking. Not the dull ache of his shin, which has been manageable for weeks. This is different. This is wrong.

"You good, Joe?" Ja'Marr is standing over him, helmet off, concern written across his face.

Joe nods automatically, the way he always does, but when he tries to push himself to his feet using his right hand, the pain nearly makes him sick. He gets up using his left hand instead, cradling his right arm against his body.

The Ravens defense is celebrating—they got the sack, stopped the drive. The crowd at M&T Bank Stadium is deafening. Joe walks slowly toward the huddle, trying to shake off whatever's wrong with his wrist, but every step sends jarring pain up his arm.

"Let's go, offense!" he calls out, trying to sound normal, but his voice feels tight.

In the huddle, Joe holds the play sheet with his left hand. When he claps to break the huddle, he uses his left hand against his thigh instead of clapping normally. His teammates don't notice, but Joe notices everything. The way his right hand feels weak and unstable. The way gripping the football sends shooting pain through his wrist.

The next snap comes fast. Joe takes the ball, tries to set up for a quick slant to Tyler Boyd, but when he goes to release the ball, his wrist can't support the throwing motion. The ball wobbles out of his hand, falling incomplete five yards short of the target.

Joe stares down at his right hand, flexing his fingers. They move, but his wrist feels like it's full of broken glass.

"Joe!" Coach Taylor is calling for a timeout, jogging onto the field. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm good," Joe says, but he's not good. He knows he's not good. He's played through pain before—the shin, countless bumps and bruises, the appendectomy his rookie year. This is different.

Dr. Sparks, the team physician, approaches with the medical staff. "What's going on?"

"Wrist," Joe says simply, holding up his right hand. "Landed on it weird."

Dr. Sparks takes Joe's hand, gently rotating the wrist. The pain is immediate and sharp enough that Joe has to bite back a curse.

"Can you grip?" Dr. Sparks asks, handing Joe a football.

Joe takes it with his right hand, tries to squeeze. His grip strength is maybe thirty percent of normal, and even that causes significant pain. When he tries to cock his arm back in a throwing motion, the pain is so intense his vision blurs for a second.

"I can't throw," Joe admits, the words feeling like giving up.

Coach Taylor's face falls. "Can you hand it off? Run some read-option?"

Joe tries to grip the ball again, tries to simulate a handoff motion. Even that simple movement sends pain shooting up his arm. "I don't think so."

The stadium noise fades into background static as Dr. Sparks examines Joe's wrist more thoroughly on the sideline. Teammates pat his shoulders as they pass, offering encouragement, but Joe barely hears them. All he can think about is the calendar in his head—nine games left in the season, playoffs within reach, everything they've worked for since August.

"We need to get this X-rayed," Dr. Sparks says quietly. "Tonight."

Joe looks out at the field, where Jake Browning is warming up, preparing to take over. The scoreboard shows 10-7 Ravens, second quarter, plenty of time to come back. Except Joe won't be the one leading the comeback.

"How bad?" Joe asks.

Dr. Sparks doesn't answer immediately, which tells Joe everything he needs to know.

As Joe walks toward the tunnel, his right arm held carefully against his body, he thinks about Riley. She's in New York doing press appearances, probably at some late night show, completely unaware that his season might have just ended on a routine play against a Baltimore pass rush that got home half a second too fast.

The crowd noise follows him into the tunnel—cheers for Baltimore, sympathy from the few Bengals fans who made the trip. Joe doesn't look back at the field. If this is as bad as it feels, he's already seen enough football for 2023.

In the locker room, alone except for medical staff, Joe sits on the training table and stares at his right hand. The hand that's supposed to hold footballs, sign autographs, win championships. The hand that's supposed to touch Riley's face when he tells her he loves her, whenever he finally works up the courage to say it.

Right now, it can barely hold a cup of water.

Dr. Sparks returns with preliminary results that confirm what Joe already knows: his season is over. The scapholunate ligament in his wrist is torn, requiring surgery and months of rehabilitation.

Joe nods when he hears the diagnosis, like he expected it. Because deep down, from the moment he hit the ground, he knew. You don't play quarterback in the NFL for five years without learning to distinguish between pain you can play through and pain that means something is fundamentally broken.

As the medical staff discusses surgery timelines and recovery protocols, Joe's phone buzzes with texts he can't respond to yet. Teammates, family, reporters. The outside world learning what happened.

But the person he most wants to talk to is in New York, probably charming some talk show host or doing interviews, completely unaware that everything just changed.

Joe closes his eyes and tries not to think about how long it's going to be before he can throw a football again. Tries not to think about Riley, and how she's going to drop everything to be here for him, just like she always does.

Tries not to think about how he doesn't deserve that kind of loyalty, but how desperately he needs it anyway.

* * *

Riley sits in the green room at The Late Show with Stephen Colbert, watching Thursday Night Football on her phone while Stephen's monologue plays on the monitor overhead. Pete, Andy, and Daniel are sprawled across the couches around her—they're all appearing together tonight, doing "Daylight" as a full band performance.

"Twenty minutes until we're on," Andy says, tuning his guitar. "You nervous?"

"Nah, this is easy compared to tour prep," Riley replies, though she's actually looking forward to it. Playing with the guys always feels more natural than solo appearances.

Daniel's practicing paradiddles on his thighs while Pete scrolls through his phone. Riley keeps her phone tilted toward herself, watching the Ravens at Bengals game. Joe mentioned this game in his last text—division rival, important for playoff positioning.

She sees him drop back to pass, the pocket collapsing, bodies in purple jerseys converging.

Then she sees him go down.

At first, it looks like any other sack. Joe gets hit, stays down for a moment, then starts to get up. But something about the way he's moving catches Riley's attention. He's cradling his right arm against his body, his throwing hand held carefully away from his body.

"Oh no," Riley whispers, sitting up straighter.

"What?" Pete looks over at her.

Riley doesn't answer, too focused on her phone screen. The next play makes it obvious. Joe takes the snap, tries to throw, and the ball comes out weak and wobbly, falling short of the receiver. Even Riley, who knows nothing about football technique, can see that throw was wrong.

"Shit," she breathes, turning her phone so the guys can see. "Something's wrong with Joe."

All three of them crowd around her phone now, watching as Joe walks toward the sideline, medical staff surrounding him. The camera zooms in on his face, and even through his helmet, Riley can see the frustration and pain written there.

"That's not good," Daniel says quietly.

"That looks really bad," Andy adds.

Riley's phone starts buzzing with notifications, but she keeps watching. Joe's on the sideline now, clearly not going back in. Jake Browning is warming up on the field.

A production assistant appears in the doorway. "Five minutes to places, everyone."

Riley looks up, torn between professional obligation and personal crisis. "I need to—"

"You need to perform," Pete says gently. "You can't do anything right now anyway. Do the song, then figure out what's next."

Riley nods, knowing he's right but hating it. She puts her phone in her jacket pocket, but her hands are shaking slightly.

"Hey," Andy says, catching her arm. "He's going to be okay."

"You don't know that."

"No, but I know you. And I know you'll go crazy if you don't at least try to get through this performance first."

Riley takes a deep breath, trying to center herself. "If I get through this song and fly out tonight, can you guys handle the interview? And tomorrow's press?"

"Of course," Daniel says immediately.

"Whatever you need," Pete adds.

Riley nods, grateful for the millionth time that these three have her back no matter what.

"Alright, let's go play a song."

The performance is muscle memory. Riley's done "Daylight" hundreds of times now, and playing with Pete, Andy, and Daniel feels natural even when her mind is three hundred miles away in Baltimore. She smiles when she's supposed to, and to anyone watching, she probably looks like an artist having fun promoting her upcoming tour.

But the entire time, all she can think about is Joe walking off that field, holding his wrist like something inside it was broken.

The moment they finish the song and the cameras cut to commercial, Riley is already moving.

"That was great, guys," Stephen says, shaking hands with the band. "We'll do a quick interview segment when we come back."

"Actually," Pete jumps in smoothly, "Riley has to step out for a family emergency, but we'd love to chat with you about the tour."

Riley shoots him a grateful look as she heads toward the exit. Her phone is already in her hand, pulling up flight apps as she walks.

"Riley!" Andy calls after her. "Text us when you know something."

She nods without looking back, already focused on getting to Cincinnati as fast as possible.

In the hallway outside the studio, Riley calls Scout while simultaneously booking the next available flight.

"Riley? How was Colbert?"

"Joe's hurt. I need to get to Cincinnati tonight. Can you handle the Morning Show appearance tomorrow, the guys are gonna do it alone.  Can you make sure they are prepped?"

"Of course. How hurt?"

Riley pauses, watching the replay of Joe's injury that's now cycling on sports news. "Bad, I think. Really bad."

"Go. I'll handle everything here."

An hour later, Riley is in an Uber Black to JFK, still in her black leather jacket from the show. Her phone buzzes constantly with updates from ESPN, texts from friends who saw the news, missed calls from people wanting to know if she's okay.

But the only call that matters—from Joe himself—never comes.

Riley stares out the window at the New York City lights rushing past and tries not to think about what it means that he hasn't reached out. Tries not to think about how she's dropping everything, again, for someone who might not even want her there.

But she knows she doesn't really have a choice. When someone you love is hurt, you go. Even if the relationship is complicated, even if you've been fighting, even if you're not sure where you stand.

You go anyway.

* * *

Riley manages to get on the last flight to Cincinnati, a red-eye that doesn't leave until 11:47 PM. She sits in her window seat, finally allowing herself to process what just happened. Four hours ago she was getting ready to perform on national television. Now she's flying to Cincinnati because the man she loves got hurt and she couldn't stay away.

Once the plane reaches cruising altitude, Riley pulls out her phone and opens her text thread with Joe. Their last exchange was three days ago—him saying good luck with Colbert, her thanking him.

She starts typing.

I'm on a plane to Cincinnati. Landing at 3:20 AM. No use arguing about it, I'm already in the air. I'll call a car from the airport, don't worry about anything.

She hits send before she can second-guess herself.

The response comes faster than she expected.

Riley you didn't have to do that

I know. But I did.

I'm having someone pick you up. Don't argue.

Riley stares at his text, feeling something loosen in her chest. He's not telling her not to come. He's not angry that she dropped everything. He's making sure she gets to him safely.

Okay.

Thank you for coming.

Riley closes her eyes and leans back against the headrest. Outside the window, the lights of the East Coast pass by below. In a few hours, she'll be in Cincinnati, and whatever happens next, at least she'll be there.

Always, she types back. I'll always come.

* * *

Joe sits in the back of a team car leaving Baltimore, his right wrist wrapped and elevated against his chest. It's past midnight, and the highway stretches ahead—about six hours back to Cincinnati so he can see the team doctors first thing in the morning. His wrist throbs with every bump in the road despite the pain medication.

Riley's coming. She's on a plane right now, flying here because he got hurt, even though they've barely been talking and he's been a complete ass to her for weeks.

He calls his parents in Athens.

"Joey?" Robin Burrow answers on the second ring, her voice tight with worry. "We saw what happened. How bad is it?"

"Bad, Mom. Season-ending. I'm flying back to Cincinnati now to see the team doctors tomorrow."

"Oh, honey. We're so sorry."

"Listen, I need a favor, and it's kind of a big one."

"Anything."

Joe takes a breath. "Riley's flying in from New York. Her plane lands at 3:20 AM in Cincinnati, but I won't get home until around six or seven. Could you and Dad drive up and pick her up, then stay with her until I get there? I don't want her sitting alone in my house for hours."

There's a pause, and Joe can practically hear his mom's understanding smile through the phone.

"Of course we can do that. Your father's already getting his keys."

"Mom, I knows it's the middle of the night—"

"Joey, if that girl is dropping everything to come here for you, the least we can do is make sure she's taken care of until you get home."

Relief floods through him. "Thank you. Seriously."

"I'll find her," Robin says. "She'll probably look exhausted."

"Yeah, she just finished a TV show in New York and got on the first plane she could find."

"I'm finally going to meet her," Robin says, and Joe can hear the mixture of excitement and concern in her voice.

"Yeah. I just... I wish it was under better circumstances."

"Honey, she's coming because she loves you. The circumstances don't matter."

After they hang up, Joe texts Riley: My parents are driving up from Athens to pick you up. Robin and Jimmy Burrow, they'll be at baggage claim. They're going to stay with you at my house until I get home around 7 AM.

Riley's response comes quickly: Joe, it's 3 AM and you're asking your parents to drive two hours to pick me up? I can't let them do that.

Too late. Already asked. Dad's already in the car.

I'm going to feel terrible about this.

Don't. They want to meet you anyway. And I don't want you sitting alone in my house for hours.

This isn't exactly how I imagined meeting your parents.

Joe stares at that text for a long moment. He hadn't really thought about Riley meeting his family before, but now that it's happening, it feels right. Inevitable, maybe.

They're going to love you, he types back.

I hope so.

Promise. See you in Cincinnati.

* * *

X (Twitter)

@NFLNewsNow BREAKING: Bengals QB Joe Burrow suffers season-ending wrist injury during Thursday Night Football loss to Ravens. Surgery expected within days. #Bengals #NFL

@SportsCenter Joe Burrow's 2023 season is over. The Bengals QB suffered a scapholunate ligament tear in his right wrist during tonight's game in Baltimore. 📺: ESPN

@PopCultureDaily Riley Carter just performed on @colbertlateshow but apparently left before the interview portion? The band did the interview without her. Wonder what was so urgent 👀

@bengalsfan2012 Replying to @PopCultureDaily Wait wasn't this the night Joe got hurt? Timeline seems suspicious...

@musicnews247 UPDATE: Sources say Riley Carter had a "family emergency" and had to leave Colbert taping early. The Rambles covered for her during interview segment.

@rileystanaccount Something's not right. Riley NEVER misses interviews. She's been promoting this tour for months. What kind of family emergency happens at 11 PM on a Thursday?

@footballwife23 Did anyone else notice the timing? Joe gets hurt around 9:30 PM, Riley leaves Colbert around 11 PM. Just saying 👀👀

@bengalsbabes Replying to @footballwife23 I've been saying they're together for MONTHS. This basically confirms it

Instagram Stories & Posts

@entertainmenttonight 🚨 JUST IN: @rileycarter unexpectedly left tonight's @colbertlateshow taping due to "urgent family matter." The singer performed but skipped the interview portion. Swipe for more ➡️

@deuxmoi Submitted Anon: "Was at Colbert taping tonight. Riley Carter seemed fine during performance but left immediately after. Heard someone say she was getting calls during commercial break and looked really upset. Band members covered for her with Stephen."

@popsugar Riley Carter makes rare early exit from late night TV 👀 The "Daylight" singer left @colbertlateshow before her scheduled interview, citing family emergency. This comes just hours after Bengals QB Joe Burrow's season-ending injury... 🤔 #RileyCarter #JoeBurrow

Reddit

r/bengals

Title: Anyone else think Riley Carter is flying to Cincinnati right now? Posted 3 hours ago

The timing is too perfect. Joe gets hurt around 9:30, she leaves Colbert around 11. "Family emergency" my ass. She's definitely on a plane.

UPDATE: Just checked flight tracking apps. There was a red-eye from JFK to CVG that left at 11:47 PM. Landing at 3:20 AM. 👀

Top comment: No way they're actually together though right? Wouldn't we have seen them by now?

Reply: They've been SUPER private if they are. Remember all those rumors that started back in February? But nothing ever confirmed even after all these months.

Reply: If this is real, Joe's making a huge mistake. She's nothing but drama and bad headlines. Remember that bar fight with her ex? We don't need that circus around our franchise QB.

Reply to reply: EXACTLY. She's been linked to like 3 different guys this year. Party girl with substance abuse rumors. Joe needs to focus on football, not babysitting some rock star.

Reply: Called it months ago - she's a clout chaser. Probably saw Joe get hurt and smelled an opportunity for sympathy headlines.

Reply: If Joe's really dating her, his performance this season makes SO much sense now. Dude's been off his game.

r/rileycarter

Title: What "family emergency" happens at 11 PM on a Thursday??? Posted 2 hours ago

Riley has never, and I mean NEVER, bailed on a major interview. She's done shows while sick, she's done press with bronchitis, she showed up to that radio interview the day after her grandma's funeral.

This is about a boy. Specifically a quarterback boy. Calling it now.

Top comment: The math is mathing. Joe injury -> Riley panic -> immediate flight to Cincinnati.

Reply: But why would she do that if they're not serious? You don't drop everything for a casual thing.

Reply to reply: EXACTLY. This feels like real relationship territory.

TikTok

@nflteaa (457K followers) Video showing side-by-side timeline "POV: You're connecting the dots 👀"

Sound: "And all the pieces fall right into place"

Comments: "NO WAY this is a coincidence" "She really said family emergency and got on a plane to Cincinnati I can't 😭" "This is either the most romantic thing ever or I'm delusional" "Plot twist: they've been dating this whole time"

@popculture.detective (1.2M followers) Video compilation of clips

Comments: "The way she RAN to that airport"

"This is giving secret relationship energy" 

"Imagine dropping everything and flying across the country for someone 🥺" 

"OK but if this is real they're actually perfect together???"

@riley.carter.updates (89K followers) Screenshot of Colbert audience member's tweet "GUYS. I was at the taping. Riley did her performance but then just... left. Didn't do the interview. Band said 'family emergency' but she looked completely shaken. Security rushed her out during commercial break."

Text overlay: "Family emergency or boyfriend emergency? 👀"

[catnift]

My Writing Setup (ft Zettelkasten)

My writing journey so far has been an endless road of pushbacks and trying to conform to the conventions, without much luck. So (only very recently) I've decided to just throw all of my previous knowledge out of the window and try to figure out what actually feels good to do, because I get snagged on the smallest of stuff, i.e. "it's 5 min past a whole hour, ergo too late to start"-type of things.

After a whirlwind of experimenting with various ideas and methods, I have landed on the Zettelkasten side of the internet. If you've never heard of it before, then I urge you to check it out here: https://zettelkasten.de/ . The Zettelkasten community is surprisingly active and is (at least partly) lead by some German guy, who does a lot of his podcasts and vlogs with a bare upper body. I choose to believe that this is optional, but it might be crucial for especially intense work. The original method was used to more effectively put together scientific articles, after all.

Anyway, the purebred Zettelkasten method, much like the purebred Bullet Journal method, is kind of intense for casuals. I've tried both in their full glory and it got messy real quick, so my advice is to start off with the bare minimum and work up to a level that feels comfortable to you. Always stop and think about your needs the moment you feel the slightest mental or physical resistance at any point - in the end, all of these 'second brain' methods are suggestions and the only true good method is the one you regularly use. Also, only you yourself need to understand it, so no need to cater to 'conventional logic'.

So the Zettelkasten method, at its core, is basically a personal Wiki, which connects snips of knowledge together on an even playing field (i.e. there is no "History" or "Maths" notebook, but a single monster book of "stuff"). The glroy of it is that you have these base notes that you can then link and connect to others and make up very complex thoughts. The original method was implemented purely on paper, so it's very versatile, once you understand the basic. For me however, paper is a fire hazard, so I use Obsidian, which again can go as hardcore as you want, but I use very basic functions. But maybe more on that in a separate post.

There have been talks on the Zettelkasten formus of some people trying to write creative fiction with it, but I'm not quite sure how they do it. For me, I have dumbed the system down significantly. Various scenes and worldbuilding facts in my stories are separate notes. My brain doesn't necessarily know everything about my WIPs in advance, but I know the general order of events, general "rules" and I have vivid scenes in my mind. So I just .. write them :) In any order at any time I'm inclined to write. I have a series of master notes that links to various topics and everything links to each other. "Editing" is going to a random note and checking both the text and links. If something no longer works, then it's a separate note and doesn't need to go anywhere - it can just stay there for future linking and/or reference. Once I'm ready to put some chapter together, then the scenes are already there and it's just a matter of putting them in some cohesive order and connecting them, which is a challenge, but way easier than figuring them out outright. If I need to check some descriptions for consistency, then 'stable' things link to the same note (for example some specific character), so it's way easier to check the details. If I really like some setting, I can describe it to my hearts content - it may not be used in my current WIP, but maybe it'll be perfect for some other future WIP.

Anyway, this is a whole lifestyle, to be sure, and I'm basically at the beginning of it. So this will definitely be a repeated topic on this blog :)

[lowcostwebdesigns97]

Web Design Tips For Begginers And Experts

Creating your own website can be a bit difficult if you don't know what you are doing. There are many design choices to make and many ways to code the site itself. Luckily, the web design tips in the following article will give you enough information to make creating your website an easy task.

For multimedia presentations, take advantage of the new HTML5 standard. Although HTML5 isn't quite as robust for animation and games as Flash, it has the advantage of working stably on mobile phone browsers, including those contained in Apple hardware. HTML5 is also quite a bit leaner than Flash, so load times will improve, as well.

Avoid using so-called "mystery meat navigation". This involves using unlabeled images or other elements for the site's navigation. In many cases, the visitor has to mouse over the buttons to even see what they do. Navigation is best kept simple. Use text links across the top or along the left side of the page.

To help you attract a more professional crowd to your site, make sure you design your site with no spelling errors. When designing the site, utilize a spell checker and if need to, a grammar checker. If you have a site with poor spelling and grammar, people will not want to do business with you because they will think it is unprofessional.

Creating a site map is a very important part of the web design process. A site map is an effective way to inform visitors of the various kinds of content that your website has to offer, and is a great tool for navigating your website. Search engine crawlers will also utilize your site map for similar reasons, and therefore, including a site map will help boost your search rankings. Make sure your website has a site map, and that it is through.

If you want to build a website fast without having to learn a computer language, use a code generator. Using a code generator allows you to quickly build a site and prevents you from making a mistake when you have no idea what computer programming is. Code generators are not only fast, but you will be able to learn a lot too.

While you design the site, remember that it is not necessary to fill every square inch of your site with content. If you insist on making use of each pixel, your site may end up cluttered. Allow for good spacing between elements, which will in turn, make the experience more pleasant for your visitors. Sometimes, empty space is underrated.

If you've got ideas for more than one site, you should go ahead and get the domain names now. The reason this is a problem is that you need to be creative and the names should match your sites but others may have the same name chosen so lock them up right away. There are many people who have similar ideas. It is almost like everyone is connected in this way.

Even if you know how to design sites for the web you still have much to learn. Everyone today is using mobile devices so this means that there is a higher demand for making sites mobile compatible. Start learning how to build mobile sites so that you're knowledgable of how to build various types of websites.

Graphics and various media are great for your site and help keep the attention of the viewers, but don't load every page from top-to-bottom. Pages that are extremely heavy with media will consume bandwidth on yours and the viewer's network, which often leaves both parties suffering. Include  web design staffordshire  when they are relevant and do your best to minimize bandwidth consumption.

Keep in mind that a website does not have to be designed only by you. Creating a comprehensive website will require knowledge in design, programming, interface, content and SEO. You shouldn't be embarrassed if you aren't an expert in all of them. If there are areas that are unfamiliar to you, consider hiring a professional service to help you.

In conclusion, due to the different things that go into a website site, such as the overall design and coding, it can be difficult to create one without the proper information. The web design tips from this article will help anyone create a website from scratch with great speed and ease.

[daylandeangelo]

2024 Things I liked

Okay I might spruce this up tomorrow but for now I'm just dumping the text and moving on. I've been working on stuff all day and I'm tired teehee. Anyways. Here's some stuff I liked. Thanks for bothering to read, if you did. If not here's to hoping 2025 is a good one for you all :)

Honorable Mentions

Like A Dragon: Infinite Wealth

I'll keep this one brief because it is a victim of circumstance above all else. In all likelihood, Infinite Wealth would have ended up in my top three things of the year if I hadn't forced myself to stop about twenty or so hours in. I have massive knowledge gaps in the series and as the game progressed I realized that a lot of Kiryu's story would, at least emotionally, rely on some callbacks to the previous games. I have been assured that I would be a-okay without playing through the ENTIRE series but I've always wanted to. So now I'm filling in the gaps that I was missing. I'm already in the middle of Kiwami 2, so I'm making steady progress. I will return to Ichiban, as all things do.

Alien: Romulus

Never have I been so rewarded for being a goop enthusiast. I've liked Ridley's weird ass alien tangents and the Goop therein. So when I hear about an alien movie that is trying to return to the roots of it all, I get interested but also slightly worried about a lack of creativity. There was no lack of creativity here and there was no shying away from the parts of the universe people (dumb) don't like. Really strong movie with a pretty great emotional core, and vibes that made me feel ill for 90% of the runtime. Elevator scene goes NUTTY.

Dragon Age: The Veilguard

I am not a hater of this game, in fact I liked it a lot. I think they were smart and economic to make a game of this scale, with a focused narrative and very emotionally congruent heart. I like Solas, we got a good Solas game. Has some of Bioware's most solid action combat, wonderful visuals, and pretty fun exploration. I was never quite disappointed by the video game, but I rarely found myself floored either. At worst it was serviceable, at best it was interesting. And, like all Dragon Age games before it, I'm glad it tried something different!

Also Taash... m'theydy....

Chainsaw Man (Part II)

Look. This would also be incredibly high on my list if it felt like we were anywhere close to a conclusion. As it stands it will likely end up on next years list, so I'm not going to dig into it too deep here. Denji is a wonderful young man, Asa is a wonderful young lady. Together they are in a very good manga that continues to have some of the coolest imagery and plot beats I've ever seen.

Jujutsu Kaisen

Speaking of manga.... Shut up. I had to power read almost the entire manga this year because people couldn't shut up about plot details they were routinely wrong about. I think the manga, over all, is quite good. There is a messiness towards some of the later arcs but as a fella who thinks Dragon Ball is great because of some of its messiness, it would be hypocritical of me to drag JJK into the muck for the same things. As far as battle manga go it was consistently fun, bat shit, and inventive. How it 'holds up' for me remains to be seen, but that first read was such a blast. The second to last chapter made me cackle like a lunatic.

Rare is the jump manga that ends with a new status quo that makes me go 'nice' but this one did! It's great!

Shin Megami Tensei V: Vengeance

This one is running on the debuff of being a 2021 game that got REALLY spruced up (and a new route!) for 2024. Otherwise I think it would be much higher in my heart. That being said when it comes to sheer game play, Smt5 is as close to perfect as these type of games get for me. The narrative is lacking, even with the added content, but the exploration and combat are both crack to me. I like a good mega-dungeon in an RPG and, honestly, the entire world in Vengeance feels like one big dungeon. It reminds of a Xenoblade in that way. High level enemy to fight here, good drop over there. It's easy to get lost in.

The main appeal here, for me, was the new route. Having a much more character driven story, with various evil women, adds a layer that makes the game soar in a way it didn't otherwise. Every single added song made me feel like I was being launched into the stratosphere. Can't recommend this one enough.

Okay, enough honorable mentions. Here's the list.

10. Fallout (Show)

I honestly can't believe this is even making the list of things I Really Liked. But, alas. It is. Since it will be at least several cycles of death and rebirth before we get another Fallout game, I was pleasantly surprised that they treated a streaming show, of all things, as an official Fallout 5. More than that, it was a good Fallout 5. I'm not the biggest fan of Fallout 4's story, I don't think that's a hot take. And 76 is its own thing, so the direction of the series really felt influx.

Well, in comes an Amazon Prime Show to not only tell a compelling story, but to tell a really Fallout-ass story. I don't know how else to describe it. The main character, a vault dweller, is re-enacting her own fucked up Fallout 3 with some New Vegas-isms sprinkled throughout. But it's all extremely solid—and feels like it is building to something really interesting. You got a Brotherhood of Steel guy who feels like he's very much in the Fallout 4 version of the faction, but that works here. Having him bumble his way backwards into BoS style 'heroism' was a really fun way to handle it. Walton Goggins is there, elevating the material as he always does.

Not much to say on this one. A few twists in an otherwise simple and fun adventure, so my thoughts reflect as such. Looking forward to more!

9. Unicorn Overlord

This might be the best VanillaWare game I've played. Which is saying a lot. The story is fairly milquetoast, which might be a disappointment coming off of something like 13 Sentinels, but the gameplay is out of control. Systems upon systems upon systems.

Unit combinations with a, frankly, unreasonable amount of different interactions and skills make the base of the game. You set up your units, you set up their actions ala Final Fantasy XII, and you set them loose on a real time with pause map. On top of that each unit is treated like an individual character with their own stat spread and customization (gear, accessories, etc) and the game sings loud. As though Unicorn Overlord wishes to be the Ur-sRPG, it also layers a very basic social sim over top all that. You can marry anyone! Love wins!

8. DanDaDan

One of those anime you watch and immediately go “I don't know what 'it' is, but you have got it.”

The manga was something I had seen floating around for awhile, and I took a peek at it, but ultimately the moment I saw the opening of the show drop I knew that there was no way I was going to miss out on having an adaptation of this caliber be my first real brush with this story. A story that is fantastic, zany, and fun all around. Until it decides to be devastating. It an run the gambit from romcom, shounen, and tragedy in the matter of episodes and it makes it all look effortless and fluid. Animation is beautiful, soundtrack is great, and performances in both dub and sub are out of control.

Like the Chainsaw Man adaptation, DanDaDan is an absolute all-timer, and I'm glad we're seemingly getting more in 2025.

7. Shogun

I had to call an audible here and get rid of the Penguin for this because for some reason I forgot this came out this year. Shogun implanted itself so far into my psyche that I assumed it has existed forever, I guess. It won every emmy under the sun so I'm not sure there is really that much more I can say about it.

It is the sort of show that feels like it should re-energize the landscape of television. Set design, costuming, lightning, and cinematography made it feel incredibly prestige in a way most shows with similar budgets do not. A show about conflict, but it focuses more on the personal relationships within that conflict. One of the best shows ever made.

Immaculate characters, performances, and an emotionally devastating story. All around, a beautiful adaptation of the 2017 game Nioh.

6. The Legend of Heroes: Trails Through Daybreak

No one does it like Falcom. Coming into the new arc, I was beyond excited. I had heard for a long time, from people who played it in Japanese, that Calvard was on the right track. And they were right, however it did set me up to be a little whelmed by certain aspects of the game. I'm here to celebrate, not criticize, so I won't get into all that but ultimately it sits somewhere in the upper half of my favorite trails games. Not a bad entry in the series.

As for a quick glazing session, Daybreak's combat system is absolutely crazy. There is a game later on the list that arrived at the same system later, but action combat into turn based combat is one of those things that makes so much sense and I wonder why more series didn't try it sooner. It's the natural evolution of the Trails series, coming in at a slightly darker angle than some of the games, but it has all the same strengths. In depth story, great characters, interconnected plot that slowly expands the worldview with each passing chapter. With the second entry coming out in a little over a month, I'm very excited to see where it goes.

5. Sonic The Hedgehog 3

Come on now. Let's get real. This was never not going to be in the top five. They adapted a portion of Adventure 2 and did it correctly. I say all this as someone whose favorite Sonic game is Adventure 2. This is an unbelievable film whose last 40 minutes sent me into a feral frenzy. Shadow the Hedgehog had a movie and it was as near perfect as a movie in that style could be.

The comedy hit, sure, but they took the story seriously enough that I didn't roll my eyes even once. The culmination of the conflict between the Hedgehogs went much, much harder than I expected and the resolution actually brought tears to my eyes. Even Jim Carrey brought a weight to Gerald that I didn't think he was going to. It was subtle and even brief, but they did not turn these characters into absolute clowns and that means something to me.

4. Look Back

A beautiful and devastating short film about the creative process and how it effects people. Every now and again, Fujimoto decides to flex his one shot muscles and it always lands for me. I don't really want to say much more than that. Incredible film, my favorite of the year. If you are even remotely a creative person, please go watch it right now.

3. Persona 3 Reload

Persona 3 was always bound to be my favorite persona. It has the best plot, the best emotional core, and some of my favorite characters. I played FES on ps2 first, and adored it dearly. There were a few things that, at the time, bothered me. I said, even way back then, if those bumps were ironed out it would be my favorite entry. Well, those bumps were ironed out.

However, I have much more complicated feelings on Reload than I thought I would. It's hard for me to use the words 'favorite' or 'definitive' without at least one more run of the game, but I will say this. Most series would kill for a remake this polished, with this much love for the original. Nearly everything added is good and everything that was always there was faithfully and lovingly recreated. One day I'm sure I'll write a whole breakdown of my thoughts, but for now this is one of my favorite experiences of the year.

2. Metaphor ReFantazio

I wasn't sure where I would end up putting this on my list this year. Either one or two or three. But, I guess it's two. Metaphor is the best Atlus combat of the year, easily. Which normally wouldn't mean anything but they decided to release three turn based games in the span of 8 months. All of which were, indeed, gas!

There were several times I called this game SMT6 as a joke but there is a hint of truth in there. Despite not having any demons (outside of a cute nod) and being wholly separated from the mother series, Metaphor takes all of the lessons learned and advancements made and rolls them into an action-turn based rpg hybrid that feels like a new lodestone of the genre. This is Studio Zero (formerly Persona Team) at their best. The narrative stays focused and consistent throughout, taking swings that I didn't think they were capable of. One of the all time greats.

1. Final Fantasy VII: Rebirth

Of course this was going to be number one. It is the closest I have ever achieved to the high of Kingdom Hearts 2 in my life. It was very nearly... the one. The best Action RPG of the modern era, with an incredible amount of flexibility and fluidity in the combat. Every single character plays differently and, by the end, I found them all deeply engaging to play around with. Even the moogle.

The story is, mostly, the story from the original game. Something that did leave a disappointment in my heart, but such a small disappointment that it didn't end up mattering as much as I thought I would. I have a lot to say about Rebirth's lack of commitment, but I'll save that for another long winded essay.

Every scene in this game is dripping with love and attention. I cannot imagine the sheer amount of effort they put into this game, but it shows. It is absolutely bursting with things to do, places to see, and enemies to fight. It feels like a modern PS2 game. And I mean that in the most positive way you can imagine. It harkons back to a time where games had a variety of things to do and were stuffed to the brim with ideas. Rebirth doesn't feel like it had a single idea cut and I will love it forever for that.

[venusgirltarot]

Pile 2 — [♡] ;

This is a general PAC reading. If you’ve stumbled across this post and don’t feel this particular group is for you, you can pick a different group, here

Disclaimer: This reading is for entertainment purposes only. Tarot readings are about possibilities based on your current energy. Energy is forever changing and nothing is set in stone. Always remember, you have your own free will to make whatever decision you feel is best.

☆ミ ☆彡

Pile 2, I want to start off my mentioning that when I started the reading, I kept hearing the song ‘Afterglow’ by Taylor Swift playing in my head. This is definitely your person’s energy towards you. A lot of you may be talking to someone long distance and you may have met them on tumblr (I’m also getting discord) one or both of you may also be into art (specifically digital art) I’m seeing a lot of late night texting and maybe falling asleep on FaceTime together. Possibly a lot of sleepovers for those of you that know your person irl.

As for their current feelings, I believe they want to come through with an offer or some sort of romantic gesture. For those of you I’m the talking phase, I believe they want to ask you out in some kind of romantic way. For those of you long distance, I’m seeing something possibly over tumblr possibly with the art I mentioned before (that’s oddly specific but if this ends up happening PLEASE let me know. I need to see this) for those of you irl, they may take you on a picnic or something. Im also seeing something about a Polaroid picture. I’m also getting shaky and having a hard time typing so they may be nervous texting you.

There’s something from their past that bothers them. They may have been in a serious, long term relationship that ended badly. They may have been cheated on. They know they can trust you and this relationship is different but they still get jealous sometimes when you’re around others. I especially if this is a long distance relationship. You may be more outgoing and friendly with others than they are and they may be a little jealous of that or this could be your energy.

You really build up their confidence. I’m getting specifically something that has to do with a creative endeavor. If they are into art, you may have gotten them to make it public and be more open with their art. I’m hearing “you make them feel like they have the whole world in their hands” you make them feel like they’re capable of accomplishing amazing things and they really appreciate that. If they become successful at what they do, I’m hearing they want to give back to you. I’m hearing “give you anything you could ever want or need” I just got an image of a bunny so that may resonate with someone.

I also just heard “you make me strong” I swear I think it’s a 1D song but I’m not sure. Idrk anything about 1D (I’m so sorry) overall, you person genuinely cares so much for you and wants to give you the same energy you give them every single day. They really appreciate you and all you do for them and they think you’re really really cute (you may blush a lot of wear really bright blush like the blush that goes over the nose.) they also really like your laugh/giggle. They’ll be making some sort of romantic gesture soon.

Box Messages: (side note: when I pulled box messages, my hands got so so shaky. I could barely hold onto the messages. This makes me feel like your person has things to say to you that they’re very very nervous about. I’m hearing “expect to hear from them soon”)

6th house, Aries Mercury, Libra, January, T, Sweetheart, I know better now, I don’t know if you like me, I want to make this work, do you, what you want wants you, you feel like home, it’s here take it, send it in, make you miss me, I still think about you when I see that shirt, when the time is right it will come, you’re too much for me, good things coming your way, you’re too much for me, when I close my eyes I think of you

Song: Willow - Taylor Swift

I hope this reading has brought you some sort of peace and clarification. Feedback is always appreciated :) have a good day or night. Sending you love and light! ♡

[kingkaisen]

WOOO next part LET’S GET INTO IT 🤍

You throw your hands up in the air and exhale loudly, thinking to yourself of how hopeless this endeavor was. <- I said it once before but I love how much the reader expresses herself with her physical movements! She’s so cute. That’s my bby right there

WHO IS COMING OVER AND HAS MY BBY STRESSIN LIKE THIS

Or so you keep telling yourself. <- she loves him hehe

It was past two in the afternoon, and they were still in their pajamas with a rat’s nest in place of their hair. <- what a lovely comparison using rats nest = hair!

I wonder if Valentines Day will be hard for Erwin and Hange after they both got cheated on. Poor bbys!

After a while, you place your hands on your hips and nod your head in satisfaction. <- she’s so CUTE dude I love her

I’m jealous I wanna be friends with all of them too. Hugging is a great way to show their closeness! They’re all so affectionate with each other I love it

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Erwin chirps as he winks down at you. <- hear me out…

I know she ends up with Levi but hear me out…SHE CAN HAVE BOTH OF THEM

This means a lot coming from me because I don’t like canon Erwin all that much, but this Erwin? Your Erwin? I’d DIE for him

You peep a quick glance behind them to make sure there was no one else coming. To your disappointment, there wasn’t. <- EVERYONE SHOW UP RIGHT NOWWWWW

AHH I hope Levi shows up! Is he alright? OH LORD

Thank you so much for bringing these.’ You hesitate for a moment as he looks down at you patiently. <- …hear me out again…hear me out…HE SO. HE JUST . IDK HIM LOOKING DOWN AT HER WAITING FOR HER TO FINISH

He pats your head and you just blush. <- LISTEN . REWRITE THE WHOLE THING AND GIVE ME ERWIN X READER OKAY?

Much to your dismay, it’s not Levi. <- THE BBY IS WAITING FOR LEVI WHERE IS HE WHAT’S HE DOING

ONYYYYYY

The reader being a messy cook/baker is such a cute characteristic! One that I relate to as well unfortunately. Does make me curious how Levi would react to seeing her be messy.

you turn to your now cold teapot and sigh. <- im gonna cry. FUCK LEVI. LETS MARRY ERWIN

Fuck FURLAN THEN I GUESS

I’m that she’s happy now tho, but still…Erwin is kinda…

Levi scoffs, no doubt annoyed by the messiness. <- LOOKS LIKE MY QUESTION WAS ANSWERED IM CRYING

I don’t know why but Levi going ahead and starting to make the tea is so cute and hot and satisfying for some reason

After a moment, you hear something rustling behind you and when you glance to the source, you see Levi pulling on the other apron that hung off the fridge. You stare at him curiously and he just tightens the drawstrings behind him as he meets your gaze. "I'm helping." <- HE’S SO DAMN CUTE. LET’S MARRY HIM.

NOT SONNY AND BEAN BEING FISH, I LOVE THAT! You’re so creative when it comes to blending your world with the aot world!

Hange ordering pizza and the reader baking cookies at the same time really highlights their different personalities. Ordering and eating pizza is a fun activity that we associate with being social and exciting, and baking cookies is a more soft, sometimes independent activity that is associated with sweet and calm people!

Yes, you ate pineapple on your pizza. It first began as a joke just to spite those who turned it down, but then you found out you actually enjoyed the taste. There was something about the sweet and savory flavors that blended perfectly. <- This is definitely a fic where I do NOT see myself as the reader KSSKSK

I do not care if they aren’t each other’s type I still ship UW Erwin & Hange! I’m gonna go create a blog for them 🤍

“I notice you’ve been smiling when you look down at your phone recently. What the fuck is up with that?” <- AWEEEE SNENDJSNDBDJESNNDDNS SVEV

Levi whenever the reader texts him:

You knew better than to ask anything deeper for fear of him shutting you out <- THEY WERE JUST TRAUMA DUMPING IN THE LAST CHAPTER . IT’S TIME TO GET MARRIED NOW

You wave at Levi with a warm smile <- she’s always waving at him and it’s so damn CUTE I LOVE HER

LEVI HAS SOME COMPETITION HUH? FURLAN AND MICHE I SEE

WOAH WOAH WOAH WAIT WHAT???? HUH??? THEY KNOW EACH OTHER??? I THINK I REMEMBER YOU SAYING THIS TO ME OMG WHAT A PLOT TWIST

AND SHE’S NOT SLEEPING PEACEFULLY EITHER I CANT DO THIS

Chapter 4: February

☾ Pairings ➼ Levi Ackerman x fem!mute!Reader (she/her pronouns), set in a modern semi-fictional world

☾ Summary ➼ Due to childhood trauma, you find yourself an adult without the ability to speak. After years of working on it, you have found ways to live without a voice. Now here in your late 20s, you are 5 months in getting used to a new town. On a fateful day in late November, you and your adopted sister visit a local bookstore-café, unaware of the friendships about to blossom. Throughout the months, one friendship in particular develops into something more.

☾ Content/Warnings ➼ fluff, slowburn, oblivious feelings, angst, mention of minor character deaths, trauma, illness, adoption, mentions of fire, disabilities, alcohol use, very light nsfw mentions, references to child abuse (to be continued as writing is ongoing)

☾ Author's note ➼ Hey guys! Happy (early) Valentine's Day! This would have been out much earlier but I figured since it's February, I would actually release it near the holiday the chapter is actually about. I'm so excited to finally release this into the wild! I'm in the process of working on March but I might take a break to work on some fluffy drabbles/one-shots because tis the season! I'll be back soon with more!

☾ Word Count ➼ ~8.5k (this one is even longer and I'm not even sorry about it)

Your bedroom floor is littered with piles of the clothes you spent the last hour trying on then discarding out of dissatisfaction. You and Hange were expecting company soon and you were standing in just your undergarments while staring into your almost empty closet in disdain. It felt as if you were 17 again, freaking out the morning before a school day because you were not comfortable with any of the fabrics in your wardrobe. You throw your hands up in the air and exhale loudly, thinking to yourself of how hopeless this endeavor was.

With people coming over, you wanted to try and dress up a bit. But in frustration, you opt for your usual wear of jeans and a baggy pullover sweater. Pulling your hair up in two little buns, you just grunt in acceptance. At least you were comfortable, which is the most important factor here. After slipping on a mismatched pair of socks, you pad back into the living room where Hange sat on the floor milling around on her work laptop.

‘Working again?’ You sign at them while passing them to the kitchen. You open a cupboard for a can of black tea. You were told Levi was coming over for the get together and you wanted to make sure there was tea ready. For everyone, of course, not just Levi. Or so you keep telling yourself.

“Just finishing up a couple documents is all. Did you make sure that we had the ingredients for the cookies today?” They mumble from behind the screen, their fingers zooming over the keyboard as they speak. Their eyes flick up at you as you sign a quick yes and they nod in response, shoving their face back into their reports.

You make quick work of the electric tea kettle, pushing the button to get the water boiling before tossing in a couple teaspoons of loose leaves in your favorite teapot. It was a gift from your foster-parents many years ago and it had golden bunnies hopping around on a light teal background. After the kettle shuts itself off, you pour the water into the teapot to steep then place the lid on top gently.

You then set forth to make sure your wipe-off board had fully stocked markers for tonight, placing them on the kitchen bar for you to reach easily. Texting might be faster, but a wipe-off board served better with a crowd of people so everyone could see what you were saying. When you’re satisfied with everything, you then turn to Hange.

It was past two in the afternoon, and they were still in their pajamas with a rat’s nest in place of their hair. Company was due soon and she was still tapping away, so you go up behind them and place your hands on their shoulders gently. She hums in response, not turning to you. You lean forward and place a hand on the laptop, and she stops. They cock their head up to look at you and their glasses glint off the afternoon sun coming through the dining room window. You furrow your brows at them and scrunch your nose.

“Can I help you?” She asks. Nodding, you release your hands to sign to her.

‘You need a shower.’ She purses her lips and averts her gaze.

“I have time, let me just finish this report first.”

‘No, shower first and then come back to this.’

“But-” You cut them off by pinching her cheek, not hard enough to bruise but enough to leave a mark.

‘Don’t make me throw you in the bath, you know I’ll do it.’ You smirk while raising an eyebrow at them. You’re met with an eyeroll, but she saves her work before shutting her laptop anyways. You kiss her forehead from above and then move back so they can stand up.

‘Thanks, don’t forget to wash your ass.’ You laugh silently and she just gives you a disgusted look before heading into her room, laptop under her arm. She flips you a bird before disappearing behind her door. You grin at yourself and then head back to the kitchen to set out some butter to soften.

For Valentine’s Day this year, Hange decided to throw a little party at your shared apartment. You just wanted to bake and watch stupid movies together, but they talked you into socializing. She had said something about today not being just for couples. She wanted to “celebrate singleness”, her words not yours. So of course, you were roped in because honestly, where else would you have to be? But that also meant she had invited quite a few people as well; a few coworkers and Erwin. And with Erwin, the invitation had spread to Miche and Levi. The latter of which you were excited for, no matter how much you told yourself it wasn’t such a big deal.

You smile at how close you and Levi had gotten in the past couple weeks, getting to know each other a little more as the days passed. It mainly consisted of texting each other little things you thought you’d both like or little hangouts at the café after hours. The café meetings were not anything new, of course, but they had a vastly different atmosphere than before. You chalk it up to the friendlier nature and usage of more words around each other.

You preoccupy yourself by pulling out the rest of the necessary ingredients and dishes needed for your baking adventure. One of the compromises Hange had made with you was the allowance of being able to still make your checkerboard cookies regardless of the plans. It was something you had picked up in the last couple years and it quickly became one of your favorite traditions. Hange did not refuse, which you think is mainly because she loved your baked goods and was looking forward to shoving them in her mouth. With that thought, you pull out another stick of butter to make a double batch just in case.

After a while, you place your hands on your hips and nod your head in satisfaction. Your ears pick up the sound of squeaking floorboards coming from Hange’s bedroom which signaled that she had finished bathing. Another noise comes from the front door with someone rapping on the hardwood. When you glance at the clock on the stove, it reads 2:47. Someone was a little early, you think to yourself as you saunter up to the door.

Pulling it open, you’re met with a smiling Erwin holding a small bundle of flowers and a bottle of wine. Miche flanks him with a box of canned beer under one arm, his other out to give you a hug which you run into instantly, making sure to do the same with Erwin. In the last month since their dinner party, it wasn’t just Levi you had gotten close to.

While you were already pretty comfortable with Erwin through your sister, Miche was a confidant you hadn’t expected to have. Throughout the passing days, you found that he was as technologically competent as he was as good of a chef. When he wasn’t behind a computer screen, he was often found sending you obscure recipes through late night text messages that he wanted to try with you.

‘I’m so glad you two could make it!’ You sign to them ecstatically, breaking out into a grin.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Erwin chirps as he winks down at you.

Taking a step back, you lead them through the door with your hand. You peep a quick glance behind them to make sure there was no one else coming. To your disappointment, there wasn’t. You shut the door behind the two men with a sigh. Hange must have talked to them beforehand about the apartment rules because they were quick to pull their shoes off at the door before walking more into the apartment.

You follow them into the living room as you check your phone. No new messages. You had sent Levi a text earlier this morning to see if he was planning to make it, but he had not responded. So, when Erwin places the flowers and wine down on the kitchen counter, you step up next to him to get his attention.

‘Thank you so much for bringing these.’ You hesitate for a moment as he looks down at you patiently. ‘Is Levi still coming?’ You stare up into his bright eyes, his lips twitching in amusement at your question.

“Yes, he is just running a little behind. He had a stop to make before making his way here.” He pats your head and you just blush. But you feel immensely better, knowing that Levi was coming for certain. To not waste the tea you’ve made, of course, you remind yourself. You grab the bouquet of flowers and take a big whiff of them, relishing the sweet scent.

Bending down into a counter beneath you, you grab a vase and get to work trimming the stems so you can place it on the dinner table. Miche is quick to place a couple of his beers in the fridge along with the wine Erwin brought so they would be cold for later.

‘What kind of beer did you bring?’ You sign towards Miche, Erwin translating for you.

“Oh, definitely not something you would like, even if you did drink. I saw it at the store and had to try it though. There’s peanut butter in it apparently.” Miche tilts his head towards the fridge. You make a grimace at him, and he chuckles.

“Hange had said to BYOB but I can’t imagine just having beer would be great, so I elected for something sweeter.” Erwin furrows his eyebrows at the very idea.

‘You do know BYOB doesn’t just mean beer, right? It’s just a figure of speech.’

“Wait, really?”

Just then, Hange comes out sporting a towel wrapped on their head as well as a t-shirt and jeans. They chose to go for the comfortable yet casual look too. She grins widely at the new company and runs to give them both a big hug as well.

“You guys made it!” She shrieks.

“We told you we would.” Erwin’s deep timbre responds back nonchalantly.

“Yeah yeah, but I still worried I ran you off with how much I talked about it. We’re going to have so much fun today!” Hange starts chattering away about the plans she had made for everyone. You giggle to yourself as you listen to them talk excitedly.

Since you weren’t one for alcohol, you always ended up as the mom for everyone, doubly so for your sister. She may be 5 years older than you, but you always felt like more of the responsible one. You didn’t mind it though. You figured it was a good payoff for everything else she does for you on a daily basis. Suddenly, another knock from the front door echoes down the hall and you’re quick to throw the metal bowl you just grabbed from the shelf down onto the counter before running to see who it is.

Much to your dismay, it’s not Levi. When you pull open the door, you see three people; Moblit Berner being one of them, whom you have seen many times since your move here. Hange’s coworkers are all carrying their own vice for tonight in their arms.

You give them a small smile in welcome and Moblit offers a friendly one in return. The two companions behind him consist of Nanaba, someone you have only met twice in passing, and another man, someone you have never seen before. You eyeball him apprehensively as you wave to Nanaba in hello, to which she does the same in response.

“Oh yeah, Onyankopon,” Moblit turns his head over his shoulder to refer to the man. “This is Hange’s little sister.” He says kindly. You wave at the stranger, still wary. The man named Onyankopon is very tall and broad chested with a crew cut that faded up his head. He gives you a big smile that warms up his entire face and speaks to you in a velvety tone.

“It’s nice to officially meet you. You know, your sister talks a lot about you.” His chocolate eyes are even warmer than his demeanor, and you can’t help but grin back at him with a blush, deciding he was okay. You side-step so they can funnel into the door. Your eyes linger down the hallway without meaning to, hoping to see a raven-haired man stalking up to the door. But it remained empty, so you shut it with another sigh and turn back to the ever-growing crowded apartment.

The company sat in various places in the living room while idle chatter filled the space. Some even opted for the floor, Hange being one of them. After a while, you had to remind your sister to take off the towel she had wrapped around her head because she was so engrossed in her conversation that she didn’t even notice it. It had dried for so long that her hair was even more frazzled than before. You just shook your head at her in amusement.

You make yourself busy with the cookies while everyone converses, the noise turning into buzzing. The living room was so cramped with bodies that you could barely breathe, so you found great solace in the kitchen. At this point you had donned on an apron that had floral designs vining their way to the top. It was an attempt to keep the inevitable mess from splattering on to you. While you loved to cook and bake, you were not neat about it in any capacity, but you found that to be the fun of it.

After turning the mixing bowl on to blend the sugar and butter, you turn to your now cold teapot and sigh. It had gone cold, but you hate to waste it; you decide to pour it into a sealable cup to make iced tea with it later.

You start to juggle the choices of either starting a new pot now or waiting until everyone has arrived when your ears perk up at another knock at the door. Your heart now racing at who it could be, you stare out to the living room over the half wall to see if anyone heard but no one had even turned their head. You shut off the mixer then wipe your hands on your apron as you make your way to the door. Taking a deep breath, you pull it open effortlessly.

You can’t keep your face from breaking out into a grin when your eyes fall on the short man with a deadpan expression standing in front of you. Levi. Furlan is there as well, waving at you from behind his friend. You mouth a ‘Hi’ to them both, barely containing the giddiness from the present company.

“Sorry we’re late. Not only did this jerk decide he was tagging along, but he also spent an ungodly amount of time getting ready.” Levi’s gruff voice speaks out to you as he tips his head to Furlan. You meet his soft gaze, and he winks playfully. Levi was wearing a snug, black long sleeve with even darker denim jeans. Your stomach flips as you force yourself to stare into Levi’s metallic eyes.

Waving them in the door, they follow suit and take their shoes off to place next to the pile already sitting by the door. Levi scoffs, no doubt annoyed by the messiness. You’re suddenly hyper aware of how dirty the apartment must look compared to his. After shutting the door behind them, you spin around and almost run right into Levi. You gasp in surprise and step back right into the door with a ‘thud’. Furlan was long gone, and you can hear his playful voice reverberating down the hall as he introduced himself to the rest of the company.

“Are you okay?” Levi asks, concern lacing into his deep voice. You laugh at yourself silently as he eyes you carefully. You nod and wave your hands dismissively at him to show you were indeed okay.

“Mm. I bought these for tonight. Where can I put them?” He shifts three large bottles of various sodas in his arms in awkwardness. His eyes avert from you as he speaks. You stare stunned for a moment as you realize he must have bought them specifically for you. Noticing you haven’t moved, his eyes shift back up to you with an eyebrow raised. Cracking a smile, you nod. The flips in your stomach hardly cease as you tip your head forward to signify where the kitchen was, passing him as well to lead the way.

After he places the bottles in the fridge, he closes the doors, and his eyes widen in surprise at the mess before him. You being you, there was flour everywhere and butter wrappers lie discarded by the mixer. Said mixer was surrounded by sugar from when you missed the bowl earlier. You look away sheepishly as you feel a hard stare at your face.

“Are you a toddler?” He asks, but there is no malice. It almost sounded as if he was amused.

Grabbing one of the wipe-off boards you placed in the kitchen earlier, you pop off a cap and start scrawling. 'Maybe.' Flipping it over to him with a shrug, you see the corners of his mouth twitch.

'Tea?' You point to your cluttered tea station. Levi turns to see an open tin of tea leaves and an empty kettle. He says nothing as he gets to work, doing it all before you can do anything. You gawk at his deft hands as he makes quick work of it all, like he was back in his cafe. Some of his hair fell in his face as his head hung low in focus. After gently placing the porcelain lid back on the pot, he turns back to you.

'You didn't have to do that, you know. I was mainly asking so I could start it.'

"Tch, I was already here. Besides, I'm probably faster at it." You can't argue on that, so you just shrug your shoulders at him again with a slight smile. He leans back against the kitchen counter and studies your face, and you feel your face bloom in heat. You place the board back down on the counter and point to your mess to show you were going to start back on the cookies. Tightening your hair buns, you then wash your hands and get back to work on the mixer, throwing in the ingredients as needed.

After a moment, you hear something rustling behind you and when you glance to the source, you see Levi pulling on the other apron that hung off the fridge. You stare at him curiously and he just tightens the drawstrings behind him as he meets your gaze.

"I'm helping." You hesitate but scoot over in response, and he steps up next to you. Your arms are almost touching, and it takes everything inside of you not to combust. So, you both get to work like that, side by side. The sounds of chatter and laughter from the rest of the group fade out as you both concentrate. You hand him the rest of the ingredients and he carefully pours them in the bowl. When everything is incorporated and set aside, you then measure out the other ingredients for the chocolate portion of the cookies. You don’t see it, but Levi just watches you patiently, admiring your meticulous yet messy way of making sure everything is accurate. When you glance up at him, he looks away quickly.

"Whatcha two up to?" A sly voice rings out after a while. Startled, you both jerk your heads up from the tray you two were placing raw dough cutouts on. It's Hange, leaning on the wall with their chin cradled in two cupped hands. They have a very cheeky grin plastering their face.

"What does it look like, Four-Eyes?" Levi snaps back dryly.

"Well, since you're asking me. It looks like you two are having fun." They wiggle their eyebrows at you and Levi just scoffs and averts his gaze. Your cheeks flare up again because you were definitely having fun, but you weren’t going to admit that. Hange tuts at you two and reaches over to pat you on the head lovingly.

"I just came over because you were both ignoring our calls." Looking over their shoulder, you see Erwin eyeballing you and Levi with a raised eyebrow. He takes a sip of his drink and looks away to keep talking to Moblit and Onyankopon. Nanaba, Furlan, and Miche broke out a deck of cards and are in the middle of a game of Poker.

'Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.' You sign to her, frowning.

"No worries, we were just wondering if you guys were hungry. We were thinking of pizza!" They clap their hands excitedly. They were always thinking of pizza, you laugh to yourself. Hange loves pizza so much that even the mere mention of its cheesy goodness would summon them right then and there. Your stomach rumbles just thinking about it as well, so you nod.

"I could eat." Levi states as he lifts his teacup to his lips, three fingertips on the rim. Him doing so reminds you of the cup Levi had poured for you that you had left to get cold. You lightly touch the sides of it, and it still feels warm. As you take a sip, you’re hit with the boldness of the leaf blend you had chosen as well as a perfect amount of sweetness. ‘Levi makes the best tea’, you think to yourself.

"Perfect, I'll get those ordered. We'll just stick to the basics, yeah?" She pulls out her phone and starts dialing the nearest pizza place while walking away to join everyone in the living room. Levi picks up the couple of trays filled with raw cookies and slides them into the pre-heated oven. When he turns around, you can't help but silently chuckle as you take a closer look at his face for the first time since you both started your venture.

There is a streak of cocoa powder on his forehead that starkly contrasts on his pale skin. You point to it and your shoulders bounce in silent laughter as he brings a hand up to it to rub the spot. His eyes go wide as he notices the brown powder that is now staining his fingers. He grabs the towel you had draped over the dishwasher to wipe it away, his ears turning pink. He turns away from you as he does.

You eye Levi as he folds the towel neatly and puts it back where he got it from, huffing under his breath. He then starts gathering the dirty dishes and piles them into the sink, tugging on the faucet to rinse them off. While he's busy on that, you begin wiping down the counters with a wet rag. Levi gives you a side-eye and you meet his gaze, giving him a warm smile. He looks away again to focus on a bowl he was currently spraying with hot water. As you stare at him for a second longer, you can’t help but think how well you two worked together.

You grab the board once more and write, ‘Thank you for your help. (:’ before flipping the board over to Levi as he dries his hands on the towel. His eyes trail the words, and he glances up at you with indifference.

“Mm.” He hums. His eyes flick over to the timer that was set on the stove as he leans back against the sink and takes another sip of his tea. The cookies had eight minutes left. It almost felt as if he was reading your mind because neither of you moved with the intention leaving the calm kitchen. When you look over to the living space, you see everyone talking over each other in lively conversation. Onyankopon is pointing at the small fish tank that sat nestled in the corner of the room as he shouts over to Hange, who is in the middle of cleaning off the coffee table.

“Hange, I didn’t know you had fish.” He bends down to take a closer look at the two little fish darting around shifting plants.

“Oh yes, they’re my little babies!” She stands straight up and jumps over to the tank and continues as she points at the respective tetras. “This one is Sonny and this one is Bean!” You can’t help but chuckle internally at your over enthusiastic sister. Ever since you both moved to Jinae, Hange really wanted pets. They had requested a dog, but they were too overwhelming for you. She wasn’t really around enough to be able to spend time with them anyways which meant most of it would fall on to you and you weren’t okay with that. So, you both compromised on her getting a couple fish to start out with and would think about the notion again later. Thus far, Hange has been very content with them and hasn’t asked for anything else.  

“They’re gorgeous, Hange.” Onyankopon compliments as he stares at the tank. Hange slaps him on the shoulder in appreciation and starts rambling off the reasons why she chose tetras and all the research she did on them.

“That’s it, boys. I win!” Nanaba shouts from the dining table, slamming her cards onto the hard surface. Furlan and Miche groan in frustration, the latter rubbing his face in exhaustion.

“I swear you’re cheating.” Furlan sits back in his chair as he places his own hand down.

“I second that.” Miche leans over to stare at her cards and just sighs. Dejected, he gets up and wanders towards the bathroom, almost running into Erwin as he emerges from that same direction.

“C’mon guys, at least I vetoed any betting.” She calls out, smirking as she piles the cards up and starts shuffling them.

“You just did that out of pity.” Nanaba just cackles maniacally at Furlan’s dispirited comment.

“Hange, there are too many men in here.” She twists in her chair to face your sister who turns to acknowledge Nanaba’s complaint.

“Psh, I’ll drink to that.” And she does, holding her drink up in cheers and takes a big gulp. You roll your eyes, but you agree. There were way too many men in your apartment right now. Just then, there’s a knock at the door and Hange stands up quickly, face alert like a meerkat in the African wilderness.

“Pizza!” They yell and then they’re off to the front door, a wad of cash in hand.

At the same time, the timer goes off with a soft beeping and you’re quick to grab the oven mitts to pull the trays out. You gingerly place the trays on the stovetop to let them cool and Levi reaches past you to turn off the oven, his face in your periphery as you glance to the side. His movements waft his scent straight into your nose and you find yourself breathing it in deeply. He smelled of clean laundry with a hint of body wash. It isn’t overpowering in the slightest and you revel in it.

“You two are missing out on the fun cooping up in here.” Someone speaks out behind you two as they walk through the archway to the kitchen. You both jump at the voice and turn to see Erwin holding an armful of empty alcohol containers.

“Tch, it beats being surrounded by a bunch of loud mouths.” Levi counters, turning back to the cookies to inspect them. You reach over to grab the trash can and hold it up to Erwin for him to dump the trash. Hange comes in behind him and places four stacked pizza boxes on the counter next to you. You stare at your sister in awe and sign, ‘That’s a lot of pizza.’

“I know but I didn’t know how hungry everyone was. Besides! Leftovers.” They give another cheeky grin, and you just playfully punch her arm. Reaching up in the cupboard behind you, you grab a handful of plates for everyone as well a cup for you, now realizing how parched your throat was.

“Oi, grab me one too.” Levi asks next to you, so you grab another after setting what you held down first. When you turn to hand it to him, he’s a lot closer than you expected and accidentally hit him in the side of the head with the glass in hand. He doesn’t even flinch. He’s looking up at you with knit eyebrows and a thin line in place of his lips.

“Ow.” You hear Erwin and Hange stifling laughter as they organize the pizza boxes.

You set the cup down and start signing frantically, ‘I’m sorry.’ over and over again. You place both of your hands on his face and tilt it so you could get a better look at the spot where you hit him, filled with relief when you find no visible damage. You’re in such a panic that you don’t even notice his stunned disposition. Your hands feel so warm against his cool skin, and it’s so soft. You realize what you’re doing after a moment and let your arms drop to your side, mouthing an apology and stepping away from him.

“It’s fine. I didn’t realize how long your arms were.” He mumbles as he walks over to the fridge without another word, cup in one hand, his other pressing against the spot where you smacked him. How long your arms were? That was such a weird thing to say. Flustered, you grab the plates and shuffle them over to the counter with the pizza. Now that they have opened the boxes, you get a closer look at the options.

There were a couple cheeses, one pepperoni, and one pineapple. Your eyes light up and you gaze at Hange with adoration, forgetting what just happened mere moments ago. They wink at you then call for everyone to plate up ‘while it’s hot’.

Yes, you ate pineapple on your pizza. It first began as a joke just to spite those who turned it down, but then you found out you actually enjoyed the taste. There was something about the sweet and savory flavors that blended perfectly.

Levi comes over with two glasses and hands one with what looked to be a dark cola to you. You mouth a ‘thank you’ as you watch his face twist in disgust as he eyes the boxes in front of him. “Are those pineapples?” Levi leans in for a better look, eyebrows knit.

“Pineapples?!” Furlan rushes over from the table to look at the pizza, the new poker game forgotten. “Alright, who’s the one who asked for them?” He looks around the room and spots you with your hand raised in the air.

“Oh my gosh I could hug you right now. Pineapple on pizza is the best!” He exclaims. He leans over the half wall to marvel at it and then looks back up to you with a massive smile. Levi clicks his tongue and grabs a slice out of the cheese box then makes his way into the living room. You can’t help but feel sad at the sudden absence.

.

“Okay, okay. My turn. Hange. Your obsession with zombies, what the fuck is up with that?” Nanaba leans on the coffee table in anticipation. Your sister just cackles and sits up straight as they push their glasses up their nose with a finger. There’s a glimmer in their eyes.

“That’s hardly a difficult question. I grew up watching zombie movies and I just need to know how they tick. Like what kind of sorcery goes into making them do the things they do?!”

“Hange, they’re fictional creatures, there’s no science that could ever explain that!” Moblit shouts from next to her, exhausted. Hange just laughs and goes on a tangent about possible ways to make and cure zombies, but you zone out as it’s a conversation you have had with them for many years. Looking around the table, you smile to yourself. Tonight has been such a fulfilling evening for you. Being around familiar faces as well as getting to know new ones brought more joy to you than you expected. Not to mention this ridiculous game you were all playing that made your face ache from laughter.

Miche had come up with a game called “What the fuck is up with that?” as a way to wind down from such a big dinner. Players ask someone something personal about their life and follow it with ‘what the fuck is up with that?’ and if they refuse to answer it, they have to take a drink. It honestly felt like a more cracked version of “Truth or Dare” but it was fun, nonetheless. You, of course, nursed soda in your hands instead of alcohol so you were the most sober one here.

So far, no one was really trashed. Tipsy, definitely; There were some words that were starting to slur. What surprised you the most was Levi’s soberness in comparison to everyone else considering how many times he had to take a drink. It figures that any questions directed to him, he opted for silence. You do, however, notice his cheeks were ever so slightly flushed when you glance at him next to you. He radiated an aura of relaxation, which you can’t help but assume is a rare thing for him. He turns to meet your gaze, not looking away after what felt like a good minute.

“Okay okay, we get it Hange. Enough!” Your attention is snapped back into the present company, and you break eye contact to see Onyankopon laughing and throwing a balled-up napkin at Hange’s face to shut her up.

“Fine, sorry! Hmm…” Their eyes wander on the people sitting in the circle with them until they land on Furlan’s face. “Alright, Furlan. You! You’re single and you’re extremely attractive. What the fuck is up with that?” Everyone’s attention shifts to Furlan’s bright red face.

“What the fuck is up with the singleness or the attractiveness?” His voice sounds an octave higher.

“Well, both, obviously, dumbass.” Nanaba pitches in.

“I well. Uh.” His eyes flicker to yours and then look away just as quickly. “I just haven’t found what I was looking for yet, I guess. And for the attractiveness, I just am?” He shrugs his shoulders and laughs nervously. He takes a sip of his drink anyways as he averts his gaze to anything but the people in front of him.

“Hmmm. I don’t know if I’m okay with that answer, but I’ll let it slide. Okay, you pick the next one!”

“Oh okay, uhh.” His eyes travel around until they lock eyes with you again. “The berry nickname. What the fuck is up with that?” Everyone’s gaze now shifts on you. You realize that Hange had called you her ‘little berry’ in front of everyone but had never really given an explanation. You bite your bottom lip and start scrawling on your board. Everyone waits for you patiently and a wave of gratitude washes over you. They really were a great group of friends.

‘When I was younger, I used to steal Hange’s berries from their parfaits.’ You flip the board, and everyone is silent as they read. They burst into laughter one by one, Hange included. Even Levi’s scarred mouth has an upturn. You couldn’t give the full story because it would be too long for you to write, but growing up in the foster system meant you were deprived of a lot of good things, one of those being fresh fruit. So, when the night came when the Zoe’s officially adopted you and they wanted to celebrate with parfaits, you went absolutely feral. You had never tasted anything like fresh berries before and they quickly became your favorite thing in the world, next to your sister of course.

“You guys should have seen her for the month after that. All she wanted was berries for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. She prefers strawberries, but we don’t discriminate here. All berries are valid!” She yells, taking another sip of her drink. You laugh silently along with them and start thinking of the next victim. After a few moments, you scribble down what was on your mind. Then you point to Erwin and his eyes bulge at the sudden movement but straightens up anyways, clearing his throat.

‘So Erwin, I notice you’ve been taking my sister out for drinks quite often. Your relationship with them, what the fuck is up with that?” You smile innocently at your sister’s composed face.

“Psh, easy.” He pats your sister on the head and Hange just laughs in response, swatting at it. “You of all people know how fun she is to be around. More so when she’s drunk. She’s a great karaoke partner.” They clink the bottles they had in their hands together and smile at each other. You furrow your eyebrows and stick your tongue out.

‘Boooooooo.’ You write and your sister just shoves your shoulder.

“C’mon, you can’t seriously think there’s anything happening between this,” Hange wiggles their index finger in between her and Erwin. “Like really. We’re definitely not each other’s type.”

Miche snorts and mutters something under his breath but you can’t hear the words. Erwin chuckles and nods in agreement then takes another sip of his drink as he surveys the faces in front of him. They land on Levi and his gray eyes bore into Erwin’s crystal blue.

“Hey Levi…” Erwin has a smirk playing on his lips as he stares at his best friend. “I notice you’ve been smiling when you look down at your phone recently. What the fuck is up with that?” Erwin’s eyes sparkle mischievously. Levi just scoffs but you gawk at him with wide eyes, along with Furlan and Hange. Levi doesn’t smile. Sure, you can always tell when he’s fighting it. But you’ve never seen his curt demeanor break into joy.

Levi narrows his eyes on Erwin then answers with a big swig of his glass, finishing off the contents in it as he continues to stare at his friend. Levi’s face is certainly more flushed than before, the tips of his ears bright red as well. He looks away, refusing to meet anyone’s eyes.

“Booooooo!” Hange echoes what you had exclaimed earlier.

“Leeeeeviiii! Are you talking with someone?! I thought you were mine.” Furlan pouts, arms crossed.

“It’s none of your goddamn business.” Levi’s voice is brusque. He gets up from his spot quickly and takes his empty glass to the kitchen.

“What do you mean? I think your friends deserve to know.” Hange sits up on their knees to call over to Levi’s backside.

“Then we’re not friends.” He says and disappears down the hall to the bathroom.

“Is he always like that?” Nanaba questions as she finishes her own drink as she stares down the hallway.

“Yes, it’s very normal for him.” Erwin states matter-of-factly, chuckling at the rise he got from Levi.

“Short and angry. It’s quite the combo.” Onyankopon cuts in, grinning.

You fidget with the wipe-off marker as you think about how he reacted. It wasn’t very surprising to you. Levi is a very private man when it comes to such things. All of the conversations you had with him were still on a fundamental surface layer. You knew better than to ask anything deeper for fear of him shutting you out, like he just did with Erwin’s question. Levi, at least, didn’t sound angry right now, but you suspect it was because it was someone so close to him asking such a question. If it was you… then. Well, you were scared of what he might do from such an intimate question.

“Yanno what, it’s probably about that time I head out. It’s getting pretty late.” Moblit chimes in as he starts to get up from his spot on the floor.

“Whaaat!? We still have one more thing left to do. Besides, it’s literally,” Hange takes a glance at the clock on the wall. “10:30. Just a little longer??” They clasp their hands as they beg, staring up at her friend.

“I must agree with Moblit here, we need to submit our report before the end of this week.” Onyankopon replies as he gets up as well. He squeezes Hange’s shoulder as he speaks with a slight smile. Hange sticks her bottom lip out.

“Fine, fine. But just know, you’re missing out on only the greatest tradition ever: Making fun of stupid romance movies.”

“I wanna do that!” Nanaba cuts in, laughing at the idea.

“Nanaba, we’re literally your ride home.�� Moblit calls out from the dining room as he pulls on his winter jacket. Grabbing Nanaba’s as well, he makes sure to pick up the deck of cards they brought and shoves it into her jacket pocket.

“Boo.” She gets up clumsily and huffs. “You two are no fun.”

“What she said.” Hange says, sticking her tongue out again.

“Seriously though, Hange. Great party. We had a really good time.” Onyankopon compliments as he zips up his own coat. At this point, everyone is standing up as they talk to each other. You glance over and notice that Miche is getting ready to leave too.

‘You’re going too?’ You scrawl to him quickly.

“Ah yes, unfortunately IT never takes a break.” He mutters to you solemnly as you go in to give him a tight hug. “Are we still on for next Wednesday?” You nod at him with a cheerful grin. “Great, I’ll see you then.” He ruffles your hair and walks past to say goodbye to everyone else.

After a few more goodbyes, it’s just you, Hange, Erwin, and Furlan standing in the living room. Your sister and Erwin were conversing about what movie to watch as Furlan shuffles up next to you. Levi still hadn’t come out of the bathroom yet.

“I bet he’s taking a shit.” His blasé statement makes you giggle uncontrollably, your shoulders shaking as you do. You hold your hand to your mouth to compose yourself as you give Furlan such a bewildered look. He just winks at you.

“Furlan, I’m going to kick your ass.” Levi’s sharp voice cuts in behind you both and it makes you both jump.

“Hey now, I was just kidding.” Furlan’s voice wavers as he takes a step back. You wave at Levi with a warm smile, but he just averts his gaze and goes to sit down on the sofa, one leg crossed on his knee. Biting your cheek, you go and find a spot on the floor, making sure to put a pillow under your butt for comfort. Hange and Erwin are flicking through a bunch of streaming apps trying to find the chosen movie for tonight.

“Ah okay, I know what we’re doing!” Hange slaps their hands together in finality. Erwin makes his way to the armchair and sits back with a heavy sigh.

“Not my first choice.” He says, pinching the bridge of his nose with two fingers.

“Oh c’mon. Everything about it screams bad romance. Plus, it’s the worst out of all of them.”

“Hange, you never cease to amaze me.” Furlan states as he takes the spot next to Levi.

Twilight: New Moon? Really? In your heart of hearts, you couldn’t completely hate Twilight as you were practically obsessed with it in your late teens. But you had to agree, it wasn’t the best out of the five films. It’s like Hange knew what you were thinking because they stare directly into your eyes and wiggle their eyebrows at you teasingly. You roll your eyes, and she chuckles.

“Move it, sis. I’m going for the spot behind you.” Hange slips past you to sit on the couch right next to Levi’s other side. You back up so you’re sandwiched in between Hange’s legs, and you yawn with the added warmth. You had a fleeting thought of not being able to finish the movie before falling asleep. How right you were. You don’t even make it past Bella’s dream sequence, drifting off into your own little world. The smell of clean laundry and musky body wash permeates your senses as you do.

.

Levi isn’t even paying attention to the movie. Even if it was something he was interested in, his focus could not be kept on the screen. Levi felt like his heart was about to burst out of his chest as he felt the weight of you leaning against his bad leg. Your soft cheek pressed into his knee while you slept soundly. His joints have been aching for the last hour, but he would sooner touch fire before disturbing you. He couldn’t see your face very well from this angle, but he could only assume how peaceful you looked right now. Your hair is still in buns, but they were much messier than before from the activities of the day, hair falling every which way.

As you sighed softly in your sleep, his mind raced with everything that had happened today. From the ecstatic look in your eyes when you opened the front door to when you had gently cradled his head in your warm hands after hitting him on accident, making sure you didn’t hurt him. He still felt tingles of your touch shooting through his nervous system from that. And making cookies with you, he had more fun than he could admit. You were so meticulous and careful, albeit chaotic in your ways. He found it so endearing.

 Then that damn Erwin asking that stupid question. Erwin knew and still egged him on. Of course, it was you; you were the reason why his heart and stomach did flips whenever he heard his phone vibrate. He wouldn’t allow anyone to know that though, especially you. Not when you already seem so entwined in other people’s lives.

Levi hadn’t missed Furlan’s interest in you. His longtime friend often stated that he wanted to get to know you even more. Not to mention Furlan’s tactless ways of wanting to include you in everything he made plans to do. It seemed as if you weren’t aware of his intentions though, so maybe he wasn’t clear enough. Levi hopes you never pick up on it.

And of course, there was Miche. What kind of relationship did you have with him? Levi didn’t mishear how you had plans with him next week. And the intimate touching? What was that all about? The relationship with Miche did not seem romantic from his viewpoint, but then again.

Levi was never the jealous type, or so he thought. He found that any attention aimed at you ruffled him. What about you made him feel like this? He scoffs under his breath, not able to look away from the back of your head. Hange stops munching on the cookie in her hands and turns at the sound, now noticing you fast asleep on Levi’s knee.

“Want me to take her for you?” They whisper to Levi, shifting to stand up.

“No, it’s fine. I don’t want you to miss out on prime Eduardo and Beatrice or whoever the fuck these people are.” Levi waves his hand dismissively and carefully gets up, making sure to move your head so it doesn’t flop forward. “Which one is her room?” He asks as he stares down at Hange. They regard him in curiosity but smile regardless.

“The door with the sakuras on them.” Levi nods and bends down to effortlessly pick you up despite his smaller frame, cradling you as your head falls back. You’re deeply asleep at this point, he assumes, because you make no motion from the disturbance. Levi feels the stares from Furlan and Erwin as he steps over everyone to make it to the set of bedroom doors down the hall.

As he delicately places you on your bed, he starts to pull the soft comforter up to cover you but then you shift in your sleep, making him pause. With the confirmation of your sleep-induced heavy breathing, he pulls the blanket up the rest of the way and takes a long look at your soft features. The peace that radiated off your face was something he delighted in. How beautiful you were to him.

On his way out, he steps slowly to the door, being mindful of his surroundings as he goes. He spots a couple of framed pictures that littered your cluttered desk. One catches his eye in particular; It’s a photo of when you were very young, maybe 5 or so. He takes a step forward for a closer look, minding the creaking floorboards carefully. An unsettling feeling runs cold in his veins as he recognizes the family that surrounded you as well as the house in the background. He knew that family and he knew that house, and he came to realize he knew you as well.

A flashback hits him like a brick. One of him and the boy in the photo, your brother, playing outside until the sunset. Of you yelling for him with your small voice that it was time for dinner and that he needed to come home. Of your little pigtails completely askew as you cried after falling on the gravel due to a skateboard accident from when him and your brother tried to teach you how to balance on it. Of him giving you a flower to distract you from the pain and your bleeding kneecaps. Of having to move away because his good for nothing father threatened his mom and Levi had warned him to try. Of you and your family waving goodbye as he stared from the rear window, the view of your tear-streaked face getting smaller and smaller as his mom drove away.

He had forgotten all about you, and it seemed you had forgotten about him. A breath hitches in his throat and he turns to look back at you, your face scrunched up from a dream as you pull the blankets closer. No wonder he felt compelled to you, almost like he needed to protect you. With a soft sigh, he creeps slowly to the door and slips out before shutting it close behind him.

You roll over in your sleep, sighing again, the night of the fire haunting your dreams.

☾ Previous Chapter: January ☾ Next Chapter: March

[jaeminlore]

Landslide | Mark Lee

summary: time makes you bolder. even children get older, and i’m getting older too.

words: 7.1k+

category: teacher!mark, single parent!reader, fem!presenting!reader, graham is the sweetest kid, mark is that teacher that lets kids pick earthworms during recess, friends to lovers, mark’s apartment is flooded so now he has to live in domestic bliss with his secret crush oh nooooo

warnings: talk of absent fathers

author note: it’s my birthday tomorrow so i wanted to give u all a present for supporting me for so long!! here’s to you <3 (cross-posted on /honklore)

Mark helps one of his kids press their palms onto the wall. When they release their palm, pink paint remains, making a sort of leaf to the tree branches painted onto the wall.

“Now write your name,” Mark advises another kid, whose orange paint had already dried.

“G-R-A-H-A-M,” the boy writes out with a large permanent marker. “Can I take a picture? For my mom?”

All the rest of the children begin to shout their agreements, also wanting to bring home a picture for their parents. Mark grabs his yellow Polaroid camera and takes a picture of each handprint.

He keeps all of the pictures in the chest pocket of his denim jacket. “Okay, guys— to the sink! Whoever has the cleanest hands gets to help me pass out snacks!”

“Why are we having snack time so early?” It’s Graham that asks, the little one always eager to be around Mark.

Mark ignores the boy’s paint covered hands poking at his clean jacket, and answers him as politely as he can. “Mr. Lee forgot his lesson plans today, so we’re going to watch a movie instead.”

“A movie?” Graham’s eyes widen.

“Yep,” Mark giggles. He crouches down to Graham’s level and whispers, “You wanna pick it?”

“Nature Nut!” Graham cheers almost immediately, causing Mark to wince.

Ah, yes, the wonderful little DVDs of a lonesome man teaching the watcher about bugs and weird types of slugs. Mark actually has the entire collection, and Graham happens to adore them just as much as Mark did when he was a kid.

“Alright, go wash your hands and I’ll get it started.”

It’s a little girl named Hana who cleans her hands the best, so she passes out organic fruit gummies to everyone while Mark puts in the DVD.

While they watch the video, Mark checks his text messages.

There’s one from Taeyong: “I’ve already got Haechan on the couch. Sorry, man. You can have the floor, but it’s not gonna be comfy :(“

Right. Mark forgot that Haechan lives in the same complex as him. His apartment is probably just as flooded as Mark’s is. Now if the landlord would just answer his calls and help him... maybe this situation wouldn’t be so stressful.

Mark didn’t forget his lesson plans; they’re just submerged in his bedroom with everything else Mark has left lying on his carpet. And maybe it’s his fault for not buying more storage bins, but a studio apartment can only hold so much stuff.

Serves Mark right for doing his lesson plans at home instead of at the school like most of his fellow kindergarten teachers.

He lets out a quiet sigh, careful not to disturb the children. He only has a short list of friends left to ask, and while he doesn’t think they’ll mind him asking, he really hates to put anyone in that position.

Besides, most of his friends have roommates or significant others and Mark doesn’t want to ruin their routine. He’d hate to intrude. And he could always sleep in his car for a few days, but the amount of stuff he had to pack because of the flooding has barred any chance of a good night’s sleep.

The video ends, and Mark gets the kids seated with coloring pages until their parents arrive.

One by one, he I.Ds the parents and tells the kids goodbye, helping them put on their coats and take home whatever library book they picked out earlier.

Finally, there’s only one kid left, and Mark is a bit embarrassed of his hyper-awareness to Graham. It’s not even his fault, really. Graham just has a beautiful mom, who happens to be Mark’s beautiful friend, and sometimes Mark gets eager to see you during pickup time.

Whatever. It’s no big deal.

The kindergartener already has his coat on. His curly brown hair is almost unruly as he continues to work on his coloring sheet.

Mark pulls at the hem of his sage sweater sleeves and wonders if his hair looks okay. Maybe he should invest in a little desk mirror; or maybe that’s vain.

“Hey, Mark! Sorry I’m late!” You rush in, holding on to your leather messenger bag. You fix your glasses before they fall off the bridge of your nose, and Mark is so focused on the movement that he almost forgets about your child.

Until said child is scolding his mother. “Mom! You have to call him Mr. Lee! It’s rude to call him Mark!”

“Your mom is an adult,” Mark reminds Graham (as soon as he finds his voice.) “Since she isn’t a student, it’s okay for her to call me Mark.”

Graham pinches his lips together, and then shrugs. “Fine. Mom, we watched Nature Nut today.” He runs up to you and wraps his arm around your middle. “Can we go to the park and look for slugs?”

“Sure,” you giggle. “But we need to get home soon, okay, Bud? I have to make dinner and then we have to clean up the mess we made last night.”

Graham turns to Mark and smiles naughtily, like the trickster he often is. “Mom said I could tear up her papers last night. She said it’s There-pee.”

“Ther-a-py,” you emphasize for the five-year-old.

Mark studies your face, and he can tell that you seem a little more stressed than usual. “Therapy, huh?”

You smile sheepishly. “Well, when your son catches you tearing up old love notes, you have to let him in on the fun, right?”

“You are a team,” Mark acknowledges. He wants to ask more; wants to dig into your heart and extract whatever is hurting you, but your son is standing between the two of you, waiting for him to say goodbye. Mark clears his throat and picks at his sweater again. “Anyways, uh, text me tonight? Let me know you two got home safe. And, I’ll see you both tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” you breathe. You smile at him and then take Graham’s hand. “Thanks, Mark. I’ll text you.”

Mark spends the night at a motel down the road. He texts a few of his friends and hopes for good news in the morning, or at least a confirmation from his landlord.

When you text him, a little selfie of you and Graham, holding up what looks like microwaved s’mores, his heart grows fond, and he forgets about his own problems for a moment.

-

Life has never been very easy for you. From the get-go, you have always been destined to fail, growing up with an absent father and an overworked mother. With a dead-end dream like yours (writing, of all things), it’s no wonder you clung to what little breaths of freedom you had.

He was handsome and bold, with a carefree smile and brown eyes that mirrored the sun. The lead singer of a band, with a voice like chimes. And you fell just as hard as one of your many protagonists. Perhaps the mistake always lay in the fact that you put too much fantasy into reality. You have always romanticized the littlest things, and that comes back to bite you more often than not.

You never expected one: to get pregnant your senior year of high school, and two: have to go through it alone.

Of course, most people you come to love leave eventually. It’s something you have always remembered; something that sticks in the back of your brain like gum to the bottom of your child’s Spider-man skechers.

Graham is the only constant in your life. Though you’ve been blessed with a decent job editing for a webazine company, and you can work from home more often than not, Graham is the real thing that keeps you alive.

He’s the most precious boy, with brown curls and big brown eyes. He favors his father, and though that should deter you, it reminds you of innocent days, and it gives a new meaning to brown eyes. Graham is not his father, and he never was.

Graham certainly got his love of learning from you. Though he likes science more than writing, you adore how eager he is to always get to school. It helps that Mark is his teacher.

Mark’s been your friend since freshman year of highschool, when the two of you both took the same creative writing class the local university offered. Though the two of you had differing end goals, you often studied together and encouraged each other. He was there when you found out you were pregnant, and he was there when you found out you’d be raising your child alone.

Now life comes full circle, and you see him twice a day. You could go out on a limb and say he brightens up most mornings, but you would still give that slot to your son.

Mark is standing at the doorway now, greeting all of his students and helping them take off their book bags and coats. He’s wearing monochrome today: red pants, a red sweater, and red shoes.

Graham lights up almost immediately, and you are thankful today that you decided to dress Graham in his red t-shirt. “Mom! We match!”

“I know,” you grin, squeezing his hand.

Mark glances at Graham, and then you. His cheeks showcase that same pink hue they always do, and while it should clash with his red garments, it doesn’t. “Hey, Mark.”

“Hey,” he grins, cheeks full at the sight of you two.

Graham spreads his arms and waits for Mark to help him take off his jacket. “Do you see that we match, Mr. Lee?”

“Yo, that’s awesome, Little Man!” Mark gives Graham a fist bump that seems to appease him, and you wait for Graham to run to his friends before addressing Mark.

“How have you been?”

Mark sighs. He brushes his hair away from his eyes. “Okay. My- uh- my studio apartment flooded so I’m staying at a motel until my landlord can get me estimates on when I can come back home.”

“That sucks,” you frown. “You know, if you need a place to stay, I have a pullout couch in my office. And obviously, Graham wouldn’t mind.”

Mark pales. “Are you serious? I didn’t mean to suggest anything, Like I know you work from home and you need your office.”

“And you’ll be at school until three,” you say. “I’ll work then. C’mon, Mark. I don’t like knowing one of my friends has no place to stay.”

Mark bites his bottom lip and scratches the back of his neck. “Yeah. Okay. I’ll drive over after I check out of the motel.”

“Great!” You smile. “I’ll order pizza.”

-

"Graham, clean your room," you say, struggling to push your desk against your office wall. "We're going to have a guest for a few weeks."

"Mom," Graham whines, "They aren't going to look in my room."

You begin to take the cushions out of the spare couch to start setting up the pull-out bed. "Mr. Lee is coming over, Graham.  Don't you want to show him your collections?"

Graham's brown eyes grow wide. "Mr. Lee? You didn't tell me he was coming!"

"He's going to be staying with us for a little bit, okay? So I need you to be on your best behavior."

“Can I show him my worms?” Graham asks, alluding to the compost bin in the small backyard of your townhouse.

“Yes,” you say, thankful that he isn’t putting up much of a fight toward cleaning. You’re also thankful he isn’t asking any questions, as Graham always seems to have a few at the top of his tongue.

Graham cleans up his room quickly. You know for a fact that he’s just shoved all of his toys under his bed, but it’s enough until the weekend, when you’ll have more time to help him organize.

The little guy hoards rocks like no one’s business. You curse the day Mark decided to teach the kids about geodes.

“Wanna help me make up Mr. Lee’s room?” You half-yell, while grabbing spare bedding out of your linen closet.

Graham’s little footsteps are heard before he answers, and soon he’s at your hip with a quick, “He can have my Frozen pillowcase!”

You hesitate to tell Graham that his Frozen pillowcase is currently on one of your pillows, and you can’t give your guest a dirty pillowcase. “That one is in the wash, Buddy. Why don’t we give him your Spider-Man one?”

“So he matches my pajamas!” Graham is easily pleased, and he even takes one of his stuffed bears to add to Mark’s made-up bed. (“So he doesn’t get scared at night.”)

By the time the pizza arrives, Mark is just behind, so you keep Graham busy with a slice of cheese and a glass of diet pepsi (only half of a can, and only because it’s a special occasion) while the two of you bring in Mark’s stuff.

He surprisingly didn’t bring much, and when you ask about it, he grimaces. “My studio is pretty small so a lot of my stuff was on the ground and got mildewed. Other stuff was in bins so I just left it there. I only need clothes and my lesson plans, anyway.”

“Well, here’s the desk and bed. It’s not much, but there’s a lock on the door in case Graham ever gets too inquisitive — bless him — and curtains so the stupidly bright sun won’t wake you too early.”

“Those both sound like personal experiences, Y/n,” Mark teases. He takes off his jacket and throws it on the bed. “Yo! Spider-Man?”

“Graham picked it out,” you say. “He also relinquished one of his bears to keep you safe in the middle of the night. His words, not mine.”

“He’s so cute,” Mark mentions offhandedly. The fondness in his tone takes you back a bit. Not because the phrase isn’t true, it’s just that most people find your son annoying before they find him endearing. The change of tone is nice.

“He is,” you say. “And he’s dying to show you his room after we eat dinner.”

Mark gives you that same lopsided smile he often had in high school. Part of your brain shifts to his personal life, and you wonder why Mark himself isn’t in a romantic relationship. Not that he has to be, but the both of you are getting older, and Mark has always been one to express a fondness for having his own family one day. Maybe he just hasn’t found the right person.

It isn’t until Graham is peacefully in bed — after a very chaotic reading of Goodnight Moon by yours truly, and an argument that Mr. Lee cannot, in fact, sleep in the same room as him — that you actually have a chance to show Mark around the house.

“Here’s the guest bathroom. Graham almost always uses the bathroom in my room because he likes looking at the big tub. He will beg you to play with him, but if you’re busy don’t feel guilty telling him no. He knows what no means and he’s good about playing by himself.”

Mark giggles. “Okay. I don’t mind playing with him, though.“

You show him around the kitchen, where you left little spaces for him in the pantry. You show him the garbage bags and the T.V. settings and the list of compostable ingredients. “And also, please come and go as you please. Like, I completely understand that you’re here temporarily and you aren’t a babysitter or anything like that. I don’t expect you to be in charge of Graham any time outside of school.”

Mark blinks. “But if you ever need time away, you can ask me. I don’t mind babysitting.”

“I know,” you smile. “But Graham is my kid. I don’t need time away from him.”

You’re lying. Mark knows it. You’ve been in this single parenting thing for five years and you aren’t about to reach out for help now.

“Anyways, if you have any questions just ring me or ask me,” you say. “I’ve got to get to bed. Goodnight.”

“Thanks, Y/n.”

-

Mark thinks it’s sweet the way Graham insists on making his own breakfast.

You’re already up when Mark gets out of his (temporary) bedroom with his clothes tucked under his arm. You’re busy arguing with Graham. “You can’t fry your own omelette for the last time.”

Mark quirks an eyebrow at your exasperated face. You look stressed beyond belief, even though the day has just begun.

Mark tosses his clothes back in his room and walks into the kitchen. “Hey, Graham! Do you want to show me your rock collection?”

Graham spins on his sock-clad heels, eyes bright at the thought of seeing his teacher. “Mr. Lee! Yes! Let’s go!”

He grabs Mark’s hand with ease, leaving you room to finish making breakfast.

Graham’s room is fairly simple. The small wooden bed is covered in a green quilt, and beneath that, frozen-printed sheets that certainly don’t match. He has a tub of stuffed animals shoved against a small dresser.

Mark gets distracted by the framed picture on top of the dresser. It’s a picture of you and Graham’s father, a few months before you got pregnant. He’s smiling, and you’re holding up a peace sign. It makes Mark feel a bit sad, knowing that Graham’s dad never stayed around to see how wonderful he turned out to be. Then again, a lot of people in your life left as soon as they found out. In high school, no one wants to be friends with a teenage mother.

Mark reckons that if he had a family like this, he’d never take them for granted.

Graham pulls out a gemstone. It’s a murky green one that Mark has let him take home from class. “Do you remember this, Mr. Lee?”

Mark grins. “Yeah, bud. Thanks for keeping it so safe for me.”

Graham beams. He grabs Mark’s hand and pulls him towards his dresser. “Can we match? I want to look like you.”

Mark feels his heart swell. He wants to smother the young boy in affection, but he doesn’t want to cross a line. He’s your friend, sure, but he’s also Graham’s teacher. He can’t coddle Graham more than the other children. He already has a godchild to coddle. “I’m wearing yellow today. Do you have any yellow clothes?”

“Let’s look!” Graham yanks open one of the drawers and begins pulling out the articles of clothing one by one. “No, no, no... Here!” He finds a pair of yellow overalls, folded amongst the mess he made. “I’ll wear these!”

“Let’s clean up first, okay?” Mark grabs the overalls. “So it’s clean when you come home from school.”

Graham, looking like the last thing he’d ever want to do is disappoint Mark, begins to pick up each shirt with obvious intent. He tries to fold them, and does a somewhat decent job, so much so that Mark leaves it, thinking you’ll find it endearing rather than annoying.

He really loves that about you. He likes your patience with Graham. You’re so young, and in reality, he squashed so many early dreams of yours. No matter your lot in life, you never blamed your child. Mark thinks that’s why Graham is so open, so adaptable, so endearing.

He helps Graham get dressed and leaves him in his room so that he, himself, can get ready.

When he emerges from his shower, hair wet and clothed in yellow, he smells something amazing.

He doesn’t want to intrude on your morning with Graham. He already feels too indebted to you already.

“Have an omelet,” you say. Wisps of hair cover your face. You place a plate down in front of him.

Graham is already eating his omelet, slowly, while flipping through a picture book. He sounds out words he recognizes, but stays silent the rest of the time.

Mark takes out his phone and scrolls through his instagram feed just as your own phone begins to ring.

“Shit,” you curse, and then immediately apologize to Graham. You press the red button and tap anxiously on the tabletop.

“Everything okay?” Mark asks.

You run your hands over your hair and let them rest on the back of your neck. “Yeah is just—“

The phone rings again, and this time you pick it up. “What do you want? ... Why would you tell me that? ... Why should I care? ... Please stop contacting me, okay? Goodbye.”

You slam the phone down and leave the room. Mark watches you disappear down the hallway, sniffling.

“Mommy is upset,” Graham says. He looks at Mark, lip quivering. “At me?”

“No, Buddy! Of course not!” Mark reaches over the table to ruffle Graham’s curls. “Never at you.”

“When we tore up paper, she was crying.” Graham fiddles with his book page.

Mark wonders why your ex’s actions are being brought up five years later. Last he heard, you had fully healed from the breakup long before Graham’s first birthday. But now he’s about to be six, and you're suddenly upset?

He’ll have to ask you about it soon.

“Are you ready to go to school, Buddy?”

“Yeah!”

-

You cradle your face in your hands and try to ease the tears back in. You’ll never get this article proofread and sent if you can’t see the keys.

The door opens, and Graham runs in just in time for you to finish wiping your eyes. “Hey, kiddo! How was school?”

“Mr. Lee let us finger paint!” Graham holds up his palm, covered in dried paint, and grins brightly. “Can I have gogurt?”

“Yeah bud. Why don’t you put something on the T.V.? You can have your snack in the living room today.”

“Yes!” Graham takes blueberry gogurt out of the fridge and — after getting you to tear it open — runs into the living room. Sneakers and backpack still on.

Mark trails behind, clutching a messenger bag to his chest. “What’s going on?”

You sigh and close the laptop. The manuscript will have to wait. “Ben called. About a week ago. His girlfriend is pregnant. Called me to tell me he wasn’t going to leave her— like that would heal what he did to me. Then he called this morning to tell me they’re engaged.” You burst into tears then, and you feel so pathetic for doing this in front of your old schoolmate, that you hide your face behind your palms and allow your shoulders to shake. “Why weren’t we enough? Why wasn’t I enough?”

Mark scoots one of the chairs in front of you and sits, leaning his elbows on his knees. “Hey. Look at me.” With gentle hands, he grabs your wrists and pulls them away from your face. “It is not your fault he left.”

“But it has to be me in some way,” you retort. “He must not have loved me. Something, because now he’s going to raise her child after he left mine. Graham deserves a dad.”

Mark places his forehead against yours. The two of you used to do it all the time in school, mostly with immature giggles in the spaces between, but now it’s heavy with intention. “Graham has not felt even a little bit unloved in your care. You are all he needs, okay? You’re amazing.”

You nod, head still pressed to Mark’s. “Yeah. Okay. Sorry for getting too emotional, there.”

“Be as emotional as you want,” Mark says. “I’ll be here to balance you out.”

Your heart stutters at the words, like maybe they mean something more than he’s letting on. Of course it’s stupid to think Mark Lee would ever even consider you, but just the knowledge that he cares makes your soul feel a little lighter.

“I’m a mess,” you stutter, bringing your fist up to wipe at your nose.

“Nah,” Mark grins. He runs the pad of his thumb across your cheek and grins. “You’re alright.”

-

“It’s snowing!” Graham wakes Mark up by jumping on his chest.

Mark sucks in a breath, winded at the sudden weight, and grabs the boy, lifting him off of his chest and onto the mattress. “Hey, Buddy. Let’s not jump on sleeping people, okay?”

“Okay,” Graham says. He’s already lost interest in Mark, now crawling off of the bed to open the blinds. “Come look at the snow!”

“I see!” Mark rubs his tired eyes and checks his watch. “We might have a snow day, Graham.”

“Yes!” Graham pumps his fist into the air. “Let’s go tell mom!”

You’re sitting on your bed, chewing on a red licorice rope and flipping through a fashion magazine. You look up when Mark and Graham enter.

Mark likes seeing you like this: the domesticity of you in the morning, lazy and true. His chest sparks when he thinks this may be one of the only moments he can capture you like this, so he intends to commit the sight to memory.

“Did I hear snow day?” You grin at Mark, childlike wit in your own eyes — the same as your son’s.

“Looks like it.” Mark rolls up the sleeves of the sweater he slept in. “You want pancakes? I make some mean chocolate chip pancakes.”

You shift your gaze away from his arms and clear your throat. “Uh, yeah. Just let me get dressed and I’ll help—“

“No need,” Mark insists. “Enjoy your quiet time. Graham and I will make the most delicious pancakes you’ve ever tasted.”

“With lots of chocolate chips!” Graham shouts.

You give him a pointed look. “But not too many.”

Graham huffs. “But not too many,” he repeats.

-

Momentary splashes sound from your bathroom, followed by Graham screaming “It’s a dragon! Run for cover!”

Mark giggles from his place on the couch. He’s got mushroom-patterned socks on, and he’s tucked up into the cushions, nursing a can of Monster. “How does he still have so much energy?”

You sigh and pull your beanie down over your forehead. “You’d think a snow day would tire him out. Thanks for constantly carrying him up the hill, by the way. I know you’re a teacher, but sometimes I forget how good you are with kids.”

“I do have a godson,” Mark reminds you.

“But Mikey is a baby,” you say. You only know the baby’s name because of Mark’s constant snap stories about him.

“Most babies and kids want the same thing. Affection and attention.” Mark scoots over to the edge of the couch and pats the cushion.

You sit next to him. “I guess that’s true. You’re really good with Graham. He’s not this open to other adults.”

Mark is clearly blushing now; you can see his pink cheeks even in the light of the television. “He’s great in class, always helping the other kids.”

“He wants to impress you,” you say. You pop open a can of orange soda and take a sip. “He thinks you’re just the coolest guy.”

Mark laughs and shakes his head. “Didn’t you hear, Y/n? I’m handsome and cool.”

“Oh, of course,” you nudge his shin with our own sock-clad foot. “How could I forget? Mr. Ladies Man in high school.”

This makes Mark blush even harder, because he most certainly was not a ladies man in high school. In fact, he was a nerd in all senses of the word, part of the debate club with a few other boys. He had a few dates here and there, but nothing ever stuck.

“Shut up,” he mumbles. “My time is gonna come.”

“Hasn’t it already?” you ask before you can really process your own words. But of course he knows that he’s grown into his face, right?

Mark is positively handsome, eyes bright and lashes long. He’s so warm and comforting to you. He must be just as comforting to everyone else.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re handsome, Mark,” you say plainly.

“You mean that?”

“Of course I do,” you say. “Why would I lie?”

Mark opens his mouth, perhaps to call you out. To tell you you’ve been too honest, but he’s interrupted by your son.

“Mom! I’m ready to get out now!”

“I should go,” you say, still looking at his eyes.

“Yeah,” he says. His sweater has small spots on the shoulders where snow has fallen and since melted. He shivers.

“You should take a shower. You’ll catch a cold.”

“Okay,” he whispers. “Yeah, I’ll do that.”

-

Haechan comes over the following Saturday night to hang out with Mark, and you’re surprised at how much he truly hasn’t changed since high school.

He’s still got infamously perfect eyebrows, and his voice is still high despite its blunt sarcasm. “Nice place.” He raises his brows as he looks around.

“Who are you?” Graham is sitting at the kitchen table, watching Minecraft playthroughs (kid-friendly ones you’ve watched through yourself) on your phone to entertain himself while you clean.

“I’m Haechan, Mark’s friend.”

“This is Mr. Lee’s friend from school,” you say, detailing your words so they’re easier for your son to digest.

Graham stares at him for a moment, not quite judging but not quite accepting either. “Okay. Do you want to see my rock collection?”

Haechan looks genuinely excited, and accepts before you can come up with an excuse for him. Graham tells Haechan to stay in the kitchen while he grabs all of his rocks.

“How have you been?” you ask the taller man. “Like, with the flooding and everything?”

“Well, I’m on a couch at Taeyong’s, which is good since he doesn’t charge rent. But that means I’m near Mikey, and that baby has some lungs.”

You laugh. “I remember when Graham was a baby. I was so young, and my mom told me it was my responsibility to wake up and take care of him whenever he cried in the middle of the night. I was so pissed at her for making me do that, but those were some of the best nights to bond with him.” You realize you’re rambling and shake your head. “Whatever. Baby screams are loud as hell.”

“You can say that again. I’ve been talking to my friend Johnny about taking his spare room and paying rent. I dunno how many more sleepless nights I can take.”

“Why would you need to pay rent if you’re just crashing?” You wipe down the kitchen table to keep yourself busy.

“Didn’t Mark tell you? Our landlord is in heaps of trouble because the pipes weren’t up to code and that’s why they busted. The damage is basically too expensive to fix, so we’ve got to find new places.”

You stop cleaning. “Mark didn’t tell me that.”

“Oh.” Haechan scratches his brow. “He probably didn’t want to worry you. He feels really bad that he’s stayed with you this long.”

“It’s only been a month or so,” you counter. “Besides, Mark’s a great housemate. He cleans and keeps Graham occupied. Plus, now I have someone to watch corny game shows with.”

Haechan grins. “Oh. Okay, I get it.”

“Get what?” Mark, finally out of the shower, steps into the kitchen and immediately tackles Haechan in an energized hug.

“Nothing!” Haechan’s voice cracks

You shoot Haechan a weird look, and change the subject. “Where are you guys going?”

“To play video games at Johnny’s.” Mark says, and the thrill in his voice makes you think of high school. Of the debate team bus rounding the corner. Of you standing there, waiting to congratulate him with a big hug and a frosty from Wendy’s.

You miss it. “Have fun, okay? I’m probably going to tuck in as soon as Graham does, so just let yourself in.”

“You’re leaving?” Graham comes in, and his arms are filled with smooth and rough stones and gems he’s both found by himself and bought at random general stores while traveling.

“Not before I see your rocks!” Haechan says with so much enthusiasm, you think he’s telling the truth.

Graham giggles and drops the rocks onto the ground. Of course, he wants your guest to sit on the floor and count rocks. You’re almost embarrassed.

“ ‘ Okay, Y/n?” Mark laughs at your expression. Then he places his arm on your shoulder, thumbs the skin of your upper arm.

And once again, it’s high school. It’s senior year graduation and Mark is the only one who congratulates you. It’s his comforting touch, him coming over in the middle of the night after you texted him a picture of your first sonogram. It’s that same comforting touch. That little “I’m here,” and it melts you on the inside, leaves you in the shell of an eighteen girl again. Scared, and worried, and a little less alone.

“Yeah,” you manage. “I’m okay.”

-

The television plays Cartoon Network reruns on a low hum. Mark is curled up in a blanket, nursing a bottle of water and thinking over Haechan’s words.

You’ve liked her since high school, dude.

Which is a complete lie. Seriously, Mark didn’t have a crush on you in high school. He would know if he had a crush on his best friend. You’ve been his friend since freshman year, and that’s all you’ve ever been.

Now in college, it was different. In college, Mark was alone in a dorm with Taeyong, and you were one of the only people from high school he stayed in contact with. In college, he would bring you your favorite snacks and drinks, and other things you would forget to buy because you were a part-time student and a full-time mom. In college, you would pull all-nighters with him, working on your exams while Graham was asleep, then using energy drinks to get through the next day.

Mark even remembers the time your mom caught the three of you fast asleep on your rug, with unopened monster cans and an empty milk bottle beside you.

Throughout your entire pregnancy he was warned not to stay friends with the pregnant girl — it’d be too much for him, he wouldn’t want to become the new father, and all kinds of other stuff people would mumble to him when you weren’t around.

But you never expected him to be anything other than your friend. You never asked him for the help he gave — though you thanked him always — and you never once assumed he’d take the role of Graham’s dad.

And now… now he finds himself wishing you would.

“Mr. Lee?” Graham creeps up without him even realizing.

Mark jumps, sets his water — and thoughts — aside. “Hey, Bud. It’s really late. What are you doing up?”

Graham sniffs, and Mark realizes that the boy is crying. “I had a nightmare.”

Mark holds out his arms before he can think, and lets the five-year-old crawl into his lap. He wraps them both in his blanket and turns the television up just a little more. “Was it scary?”

“You left.” Graham says, voice less watery, like he doesn’t know the weight of his words. He’s focused on the rerun of Adventure Time that’s playing. He’s not even remotely interested in his nightmare now, with his tears dried up, and his eyes drooping back towards slumber.

“I’m going to leave one day,” Mark says, because he thinks it’s important that Graham knows.

“You should stay with me and Mom,” Graham says. He yawns. “We like you so much!”

Mark’s heart stutters. He tries not to think about it.

-

When Graham’s bed is empty the next morning, you freak out. He’s always in his room in the morning. Even if he wakes up before you, he stays in and plays with his toys.

You’ve already got your phone out, and your mother’s number called, when you walk into the living room.

Relief floods your system. Mark and Graham are asleep on the couch, snuggled up serenely like they didn’t just cause you to have a premature heart attack.

You hang up before the call to your mom can go through and stand there, watching the two boys sleep. Graham has both his arms wrapped around Mark’s forearm. It’s such a sweet picture that you take out your phone and snap one.

The flash is on.

Mark scrunches his nose and winces. “What the–”

“Sorry!” You whisper. “You both looked so cute, I couldn’t help it.”

Mark smiles, still sleepy, and finally opens his eyes. He peers at you, copper brown under fluttering lashes and you’re almost intimidated into looking away. “He had a nightmare.”

“Oh?”

“About me leaving.”

“Oh.” You frown. “I’m really sorry about that. I keep telling him that you’re moving out soon, but I don’t think he fully understands.”

Graham stirs. You reach down and pick him up. Your knuckles brush across Mark’s warm, sweater-clad chest and you suddenly wish you could cuddle with him, too. You shake the thoughts away and focus on your drowsy son. “You’re staying at Grandma's for a few days, remember?”

Graham rubs his eyes and perks up. “And I’ll see her cat?”

“Yes,” you confirm. “But we’ve got to get you dressed because she’s coming in a few minutes.”

-

“Mark Lee!” Your mom’s voice embarrassingly rings through the apartment, and you realize Mark has taken it upon himself to open the door. “Y/n told me she had a temporary roommate but I never thought she would finally ask you!”

“Oh my gosh…” you mumble, buckling Graham’s overalls and hauling him up into your arms. “Mom! His apartment flooded so he’s staying here. Don’t be weird about it.”

“But he’s so handsome,” your mom coos. You’re concerned she might reach forward and pinch Mark’s already ruddy cheeks.

“Thanks,” Mark laughs. “But she’s right, I’m just squatting until I can find a new place.”

Your mom harrumphs. “Well, I don’t see why you can’t stay here forever. Y/n doesn’t even use that office room. And even if she did, the two of you could just share a room.”

“Mom!” You plunk Graham into her hands and grab his overnight bag. “You have to leave.”

“Did I say something wrong?” She sounds worried, but there’s an undisclosed mirth in her eyes that makes you think of your freshman year, when you did have a crush on Mark.

“You said everything wrong,” you say, kindly pushing her out. “Have a good time, Graham. I love you! As always, Mom, call if you need me to come get him.”

“Yeah, right!” She yells over her shoulder. Graham is already giggling, so you close the door with confidence.

You turn back to your roommate. “I’m sorry about that, Mark.”

“It’s fine.” He smiles, but it’s reserved. “But speaking of me finding a place… I know Haechan told you that I can’t go back to my own apartment. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

“It’s okay,” you say. You want to say “You can stay here as long as you want, and long as you’ll let me keep you,” but that would reveal too much, and you don’t want to lose the one good friend you have.

“And I was thinking I should move out soon anyway.” Mark pulls his sweater sleeves until they cover his hands. He’s hiding. He’s shielding himself the same way he did in junior year, when he got turned down by his crush to go to the prom. “I don’t think it’s good for Graham to get this attached to me if I’m just going to leave.”

“Oh,” Your sleeves are too short, but you want to shield yourself too. “Yeah, that’s… that’s probably a good idea.”

Mark stands there for a beat, like he’s waiting for you to say something more. Like he hasn’t just taken your heart and pushed it aside. Like this hurts a lot less than it actually does.

But any word out of your mouth would be tearful. It would be honest. It would ruin everything. “I’m going to go on a run.”

-

There’s a cricket outside that won’t stop chirping against your window. You blame it for your insomnia, choosing to ignore the anxiety of eventually losing Mark. It feels so horribly childish, since you’ll see him when you drop Graham off at school. And you’ll see him whenever the two of you go out for coffee on weekends.

But you won’t see him in the kitchen, reaching for the pancake mix so his shirt rises up and you can see the dimples in his back. You won’t see him humming along to the radio while he works on his lesson plans. You won’t feel his warmth when the two of you stay awake, nursing spiked lemonade and giggling at the commentary videos you find on YouTube.

He’ll just be Mark again. He won’t be home anymore.

Startled by the realization, you get out of your covers and rush to your door.

It opens before you can even reach for the doorknob, and there’s Mark in his pajamas, biting his lip and avoiding your eyes.

“I don’t want you to leave,” you say.

Mark confesses, “I love you.”

You open your arms and he dives in, face pressed into the space where your neck meets your shoulder. Warmth envelopes you and the scent of pine fills your nose.

Mark is timeless. Youthful glory and childish pride. He’s a pinch on the side and a push on the swings. Like a rock that actually skips on the first try. Like shoes that you can slip on when they’re still tied. And he’s here, in your arms, squeezing you like you’re something valuable enough to lose. He’s confessing love like you aren’t the worst possible candidate for his heart.

“I can’t offer you much,” you start, but Mark bumps his forehead against yours, boyish and playful — football fields and bright red lockers and secret notes on bathroom walls.

“I’ve known you for years, Y/n,” Mark’s voice is a low rumble. Copper eyes blinking at you like you’re something to second glance at. “I know what I’m getting into. I want you. I want Graham. I want everything this is, and everything we’ve been for the past month. I don’t want this to end.”

You close your eyes, because his are too honest. He’s open and vulnerable and gentle — a child on the first day of school, ready to make friends. You take a deep breath, try to remember what you were like on your first day. Rosy cheeks and shy glances. Knobby knees and a trusting heart. You reach out for whoever you once were — the Y/n with a heart open and willing to be loved. “I don’t want this to end either. I’m in love with you, Mark.”

His grin lights up your world in its entirety. Gold flecks in onyx black disappear as he smiles, too thrilled to keep his eyes open. And when he kisses you, warm lips against cold ones, you feel like a puzzle has just slotted into place.

It would only make sense that you would grow to love the boy you grew up with.

[honklore]

landslide | karl jacobs

(kindergarten teacher!karl, single mom!reader, oh no karl’s apartment gets flooded so he has to stay at his best friend from high school’s house who also happens to be the mother of his favorite student, karl just being soft and sweet and a great friend, um talk about the baby daddy being a loser essentially, the beast team is there playing the role of karl’s friends from school, graham is the sweetest child, slight angst, fluff, friends to lovers, SOFT KARL, warmth, comfort, romance coded but very light)

listen to: landslide by fleetwood mac, never grow up by taylor swift, growing up by river run north, rainbow by kacey musgraves

Karl helps one of his kids press their palms onto the wall. When they release their palm, pink paint remains, making a sort of leaf to the tree branches painted onto the wall.

“Now write your name,” Karl advises another kid, whose orange paint had already dried.

“G-R-A-H-A-M,” the boy writes out with a large permanent marker. “Can I take a picture? For my mom?”

All the rest of the children begin to shout their agreements, also wanting to bring home a picture for their parents. Karl grabs his yellow Polaroid camera and takes a picture of each handprint.

He keeps all of the pictures in the chest pocket of his denim jacket. “Okay, guys— to the sink! Whoever has the cleanest hands gets to help me pass out snacks!”

“Why are we having snack time so early?” It’s Graham that asks, the little one always eager to be around Karl.

Karl ignores the boy’s paint covered hands poking at his clean jacket, and answers him as politely as he can. “Mr. Jacobs forgot his lesson plans today, so we’re going to watch a movie instead.”

“A movie?” Graham’s eyes widen.

“Yep,” Karl giggles. He crouches down to Graham’s level and whispers, “You wanna pick it?”

“Nature Nut!” Graham cheers almost immediately, causing Karl to wince.

Ah, yes, the wonderful little DVDs of a lonesome man teaching the watcher about bugs and weird types of slugs. Karl actually has the entire collection, and Graham happens to adore them just as much as Karl did when he was a kid.

“Alright, go wash your hands and I’ll get it started.”

It’s a little girl named Hana who cleans her hands the best, so she passes out organic fruit gummies to everyone while Karl puts in the DVD.

While they watch the video, Karl checks his text messages.

There’s one from Chris: “I’ve already got Chandler on the couch. Sorry, man. You can have the floor, but it’s not gonna be comfy :(“

Right. Karl forgot that Chandler lives in the same complex as him. His apartment is probably just as flooded as Karl’s is. Now if the landlord would just answer his calls and help him... maybe this situation wouldn’t be so stressful.

Karl didn’t forget his lesson plans; they’re just submerged in his bedroom with everything else Karl has left lying on his carpet. And maybe it’s his fault for not buying more storage bins, but a studio apartment can only hold so much stuff.

Serves Karl right for doing his lesson plans at home instead of at the school like most of his fellow kindergarten teachers.

He lets out a quiet sigh, careful not to disturb the children. He only has a short list of friends left to ask, and while he doesn’t think they’ll mind him asking, he really hates to put anyone in that position.

Besides, most of his friends have roommates or significant others and Karl doesn’t want to ruin their routine. He’d hate to intrude. And he could always sleep in his car for a few days, but the amount of stuff he had to pack because of the flooding has barred any chance of a good night’s sleep.

The video ends, and Karl gets the kids seated with coloring pages until their parents arrive.

One by one, he I.Ds the parents and tells the kids goodbye, helping them put on their coats and take home whatever library book they picked out earlier.

Finally, there’s only one kid left, and Karl is a bit embarrassed of his hyper-awareness to Graham. It’s not even his fault, really. Graham just has a beautiful mom, who happens to be Karl’s beautiful friend, and sometimes Karl gets eager to see you during pickup time.

Whatever. It’s no big deal.

The kindergartener already has his coat on. His curly brown hair is almost unruly as he continues to work on his coloring sheet.

Karl pulls at the hem of his sage sweater sleeves and wonders if his hair looks okay. Maybe he should invest in a little desk mirror; or maybe that’s vain.

“Hey, Karl! Sorry I’m late!” You rush in, holding on to your leather messenger bag. You fix your glasses before they fall off the bridge of your nose, and Karl is so focused on the movement that he almost forgets about your child.

Until said child is scolding his mother. “Mom! You have to call him Mr. Jacobs! It’s rude to call him Karl!”

“Your mom is an adult,” Karl reminds Graham (as soon as he finds his voice.) “Since she isn’t a student, it’s okay for her to call me Karl.”

Graham pinches his lips together, and then shrugs. “Fine. Mom, we watched Nature Nut today.” He runs up to you and wraps his arm around your middle. “Can we go to the park and look for slugs?”

“Sure,” you giggle. “But we need to get home soon, okay, Bud? I have to make dinner and then we have to clean up the mess we made last night.”

Graham turns to Karl and smiles naughtily, like the trickster he often is. “Mom said I could tear up her papers last night. She said it’s There-pee.”

“Ther-a-py,” you emphasize for the five-year-old.

Karl studies your face, and he can tell that you seem a little more stressed than usual. “Therapy, huh?”

You smile sheepishly. “Well, when your son catches you tearing up old love notes, you have to let him in on the fun, right?”

“You are a team,” Karl acknowledges. He wants to ask more; wants to dig into your heart and extract whatever is hurting you, but your son is standing between the two of you, waiting for him to say goodbye. Karl clears his throat and picks at his sweater again. “Anyways, uh, text me tonight? Let me know you two got home safe. And, I’ll see you both tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” you breathe. You smile at him and then take Graham’s hand. “Thanks, Karl. I’ll text you.”

Karl spends the night at a motel down the road. He texts a few of his friends and hopes for good news in the morning, or at least a confirmation from his landlord.

When you text him, a little selfie of you and Graham, holding up what looks like microwaved s’mores, his heart grows fond, and he forgets about his own problems for a moment.

Life has never been very easy for you. From the get-go, you have always been destined to fail, growing up with an absent father and an overworked mother. With a dead-end dream like yours (writing, of all things), it’s no wonder you clung to what little breaths of freedom you had.

He was handsome and bold, with a carefree smile and brown eyes that mirrored the sun. The lead singer of a band, with a voice like chimes. And you fell just as hard as one of your many protagonists. Perhaps the mistake always lay in the fact that you put too much fantasy into reality. You have always romanticized the littlest things, and that comes back to bite you more often than not.

You never expected one: to get pregnant your senior year of high school, and two: have to go through it alone.

Of course, most people you come to love leave eventually. It’s something you have always remembered; something that sticks in the back of your brain like gum to the bottom of your child’s Spider-man skechers.

Graham is the only constant in your life. Though you’ve been blessed with a decent job editing for a webazine company, and you can work from home more often than not, Graham is the real thing that keeps you alive.

He’s the most precious boy, with brown curls and big brown eyes. He favors his father, and though that should deter you, it reminds you of innocent days, and it gives a new meaning to brown eyes. Graham is not his father, and he never was.

Graham certainly got his love of learning from you. Though he likes science more than writing, you adore how eager he is to always get to school. It helps that Karl is his teacher.

Karl’s been your friend since freshman year of highschool, when the two of you both took the same creative writing class the local university offered. Though the two of you had differing end goals, you often studied together and encouraged each other. He was there when you found out you were pregnant, and he was there when you found out you’d be raising your child alone.

Now life comes full circle, and you see him twice a day. You could go out on a limb and say he brightens up most mornings, but you would still give that slot to your son.

Karl is standing at the doorway now, greeting all of his students and helping them take off their book bags and coats. He’s wearing monochrome today: red pants, a red sweater, and red shoes.

Graham lights up almost immediately, and you are thankful today that you decided to dress Graham in his red t-shirt. “Mom! We match!”

“I know,” you grin, squeezing his hand.

Karl glances at Graham, and then you. His cheeks showcase that same pink hue they always do, and while it should clash with his red garments, it doesn’t. “Hey, Karl.”

“Hey,” he grins, cheeks full at the sight of you two.

Graham spreads his arms and waits for Karl to help him take off his jacket. “Do you see that we match, Mr. Jacobs?”

“Yo, that’s awesome, Little Man!” Karl gives Graham a fist bump that seems to appease him, and you wait for Graham to run to his friends before addressing Karl.

“How have you been?”

Karl sighs. He brushes his hair away from his eyes. “Okay. My- uh- my studio apartment flooded so I’m staying at a motel until my landlord can get me estimates on when I can come back home.”

“That sucks,” you frown. “You know, if you need a place to stay, I have a pullout couch in my office. And obviously, Graham wouldn’t mind.”

Karl pales. “Are you serious? I didn’t mean to suggest anything, Like I know you work from home and you need your office.”

“And you’ll be at school until three,” you say. “I’ll work then. C’mon, Karl. I don’t like knowing one of my friends has no place to stay.”

Karl bites his bottom lip and scratches the back of his neck. “Yeah. Okay. I’ll drive over after I check out of the motel.”

“Great!” You smile. “I’ll order pizza.”

"Graham, clean your room," you say, struggling to push your desk against your office wall. "We're going to have a guest for a few weeks."

"Mom," Graham whines, "They aren't going to look in my room."

You begin to take the cushions out of the spare couch to start setting up the pull-out bed. "Mr. Jacobs is coming over, Graham.  Don't you want to show him your collections?"

Graham's brown eyes grow wide. "Mr. Jacobs? You didn't tell me he was coming!"

"He's going to be staying with us for a little bit, okay? So I need you to be on your best behavior."

“Can I show him my worms?” Graham asks, alluding to the compost bin in the small backyard of your townhouse.

“Yes,” you say, thankful that he isn’t putting up much of a fight toward cleaning. You’re also thankful he isn’t asking any questions, as Graham always seems to have a few at the top of his tongue.

Graham cleans up his room quickly. You know for a fact that he’s just shoved all of his toys under his bed, but it’s enough until the weekend, when you’ll have more time to help him organize.

The little guy hoards rocks like no one’s business. You curse the day Karl decided to teach the kids about geodes.

“Wanna help me make up Mr. Jacobs’s room?” You half-yell, while grabbing spare bedding out of your linen closet.

Graham’s little footsteps are head before he answers, and soon he’s at your hip with a quick, “He can have my Frozen pillowcase!”

You hesitate to tell Graham that his Frozen pillowcase is currently on one of your pillows, but just you can’t give your guest a dirty pillowcase. “That one is in the wash, Buddy. Why don’t we give him your Spider-Man one?”

“So he matches my pajamas!” Graham is easily pleased, and he even takes one of his stuffed bears to add to Karl’s made-up bed. (“So he doesn’t get scared at night.”)

By the time the pizza arrives, Karl is just behind, so you keep Graham busy with a slice of cheese and a glass of diet pepsi (only half of a can, and only because it’s a special occasion) while the two of you bring in Karl’s stuff.

He surprisingly didn’t bring much, and when you ask about it, he grimaces. “My studio is pretty small so a lot of my stuff was on the ground and got mildewed. Other stuff was in bins so I just left it there. I only need clothes and my lesson plans, anyway.”

“Well, here’s the desk and bed. It’s not much, but there’s a lock on the door in case Graham ever gets too inquisitive — bless him — and curtains so the stupidly bright sun won’t wake you too early.”

“Those both sound like personal experiences, Y/n,” Karl teases. He takes off his jacket and throws it on the bed. “Yo! Spider-Man?”

“Graham picked it out,” you say. “He also relinquished one of his bears to keep you safe in the middle of the night. His words, not mine.”

“He’s so cute,” Karl mentions offhandedly. The fondness in his tone takes you back a bit. Not because the phrase isn’t true, it’s just that most people find your son annoying before they find him endearing. The change of tone is nice.

“He is,” you say. “And he’s dying to show you his room after we eat dinner.”

Karl gives you that same lopsided smile he often had in high school. Part of your brain shifts to his personal life, and you wonder why Karl himself isn’t in a romantic relationship. Not that he has to be, but the both of you are getting older, and Karl has always been one to express a fondness for having his own family one day. Maybe he just hasn’t found the right person.

It isn’t until Graham is peacefully in bed — after a very chaotic reading of Goodnight Moon by yours truly, and an argument that Mr. Jacobs cannot, in fact, sleep in the same room as him — that you actually have a chance to show Karl around the house.

“Here’s the guest bathroom. Graham almost always uses the bathroom in my room because he likes looking at the big tub. He will beg you to play with him, but if you’re busy don’t feel guilty telling him no. He knows what no means and he’s good about playing by himself.”

Karl giggles. “Okay. I don’t mind playing with him, though.“

You show him around the kitchen, where you left little spaces for him in the pantry. You show him the garbage bags and the T.V. settings and the list of compostable ingredients. “And also, please come and go as you please. Like, I completely understand that you’re here temporarily and you aren’t a babysitter or anything like that. I don’t expect you to be in charge of Graham any time outside of school.”

Karl blinks. “But if you ever need time away, you can ask me. I don’t mind babysitting.”

“I know,” you smile. “But Graham is my kid. I don’t need time away from him.”

You’re lying. Karl knows it. You’ve been in this single parenting thing for five years and you aren’t about to reach out for help now.

“Anyways, if you have any questions just ring me or ask me,” you say. “I’ve got to get to bed. Goodnight.”

“Thanks, Y/n.”

Karl thinks it’s sweet the way Graham insists on making his own breakfast.

You’re already up when Karl gets out of his (temporary) bedroom with his clothes tucked under his arm. You’re busy arguing with Graham. “You can’t fry your own omelette for the last time.”

Karl quirks an eyebrow at your exasperated face. You look stressed beyond belief, even though the day has just begun.

Karl tosses his clothes back in his room and walks into the kitchen. “Hey, Graham! Do you want to show me your rock collection?”

Graham spins on his sock-clad heels, eyes bright at the thought of seeing his teacher. “Mr. Jacobs! Yes! Let’s go!”

He grabs Karl’s hand with ease, leaving you room to finish making breakfast.

Graham’s room is fairly simple. The small wooden bed is covered in a green quilt, and beneath that, frozen-printed sheets that certainly don’t match. He has a tub of stuffed animals shoved against a small dresser.

Karl gets distracted by the framed picture on top of the dresser. It’s a picture of you and Graham’s father, a few months before you got pregnant. He’s smiling, and you’re holding up a peace sign. It makes Karl feel a bit sad, knowing that Graham’s dad never stayed around to see how wonderful he turned out to be.

Then again, a lot of people in your life left as soon as they found out. In high school, no one wants to be friends with a teenage mother.

Karl reckons that if he had a family like this, he’d never take them for granted.

Graham pulls out a gemstone. It’s a murky green one that Karl has let him take home from class. “Do you remember this, Mr. Jacobs?”

Karl grins. “Yeah, bud. Thanks for keeping it so safe for me.”

Graham beams. He grabs Karl’s hand and pulls him towards his dresser. “Can we match? I want to look like you.”

Karl feels his heart swell. He wants to smother the young boy in affection, but he doesn’t want to cross a line. He’s your friend, sure, but he’s also Graham’s teacher. He can’t coddle Graham more than the other children. He already has a godchild to coddle. “I’m wearing yellow today. Do you have any yellow clothes?”

“Let’s look!” Graham yanks open one of the drawers and begins pulling out the articles of clothing one by one. “No, no, no... Here!” He finds a pair of yellow overalls, folded amongst the mess he made. “I’ll wear these!”

“Let’s clean up first, okay?” Karl grabs the overalls. “So it’s clean when you come home from school.”

Graham, looking like the last thing he’d ever want to do is disappoint Karl, begins to pick up each shirt with obvious intent. He tries to fold them, and does a somewhat decent job, so much so that Karl leaves it, thinking you’ll find it endearing rather than annoying.

He really loves that about you. He likes your patience with Graham. You’re so young, and in reality, he squashed so many early dreams of yours. No matter your lot in life, you never blamed your child. Karl thinks that’s why Graham is so open, so adaptable, so endearing.

He helps Graham get dressed and leaves him in his room so that he, himself, can get ready.

When he emerges from his shower, hair wet and clothed in yellow, he smells something amazing.

He doesn’t want to intrude on your morning with Graham. He already feels too indebted to you already.

“Have an omelet,” you say. Wisps of hair cover your face. You place a plate down in front of him.

Graham is already eating his omelet, slowly, while flipping through a picture book. He sounds out words he recognizes, but stays silent the rest of the time.

Karl takes out his phone and scrolls through his instagram feed just as your own phone begins to ring.

“Shit,” you curse, and then immediately apologize to Graham. You press the red button and tap anxiously on the tabletop.

“Everything okay?” Karl asks.

You run your hands over your hair and let them rest on the back of your neck. “Yeah is just—“

The phone rings again, and this time you pick it up. “What do you want? ... Why would you tell me that? ... Why should I care? ... Please stop contacting me, okay? Goodbye.”

You slam the phone down and leave the room. Karl watches you disappear down the hallway, sniffling.

“Mommy is upset,” Graham says. He looks at Karl, lip quivering. “At me?”

“No, Buddy! Of course not!” Karl reaches over the table to ruffle Graham’s curls. “Never at you.”

“When we tore up paper, she was crying.” Graham fiddles with his book page.

Karl wonders why your ex’s actions are being brought up five years later. Last he heard, you had fully healed from the breakup long before Graham’s first birthday. But now he’s about to be six, and you're suddenly upset?

He’ll have to ask you about it soon.

“Are you ready to go to school, Buddy?”

“Yeah!”

You cradle your face in your hands and try to ease the tears back in. You’ll never get this article proofread and sent if you can’t see the keys.

The door opens, and Graham runs in just in time for you to finish wiping your eyes. “Hey, kiddo! How was school?”

“Mr. Jacobs let us finger paint!” Graham holds up his palm, covered in dried paint, and grins brightly. “Can I have gogurt?”

“Yeah bud. Why don’t you put something on the T.V.? You can have your snack in the living room today.”

“Yes!” Graham takes blueberry gogurt out of the fridge and — after getting you to tear it open — runs into the living room. Sneakers and backpack still on.

Karl trails behind, clutching a messenger bag to his chest. “What’s going on?”

You sigh and close the laptop. The manuscript will have to wait. “Ben called. About a week ago. His girlfriend is pregnant. Called me to tell me he wasn’t going to leave her— like that would heal what he did to me. Then he called this morning to tell me they’re engaged.” You burst into tears then, and you feel so pathetic for doing this in front of your old schoolmate, that you hide your face behind your palms and allow your shoulders to shake. “Why weren’t we enough? Why wasn’t I enough?”

Karl scoots one of the chairs in front of you and sits, leaning his elbows on his knees. “Hey. Look at me.” With gentle hands, he grabs your wrists and pulls them away from your face. “It is not your fault he left.”

“But it has to be me in some way,” you retort. “He must not have loved me. Something, because now he’s going to raise her child after he left mine. Graham deserves a dad.”

Karl places his forehead against yours. The two of you used to do it all the time in school, mostly with immature giggles in the spaces between, but now it’s heavy with intention. “Graham has not felt even a little bit unloved in your care. You are all he needs, okay? You’re amazing.”

You nod, head still pressed to Karl’s. “Yeah. Okay. Sorry for getting too emotional, there.”

“Be as emotional as you want,” Karl says. “I’ll be here to balance you out.”

Your heart stutters at the words, like maybe they mean something more than he’s letting on. Of course it’s stupid to think Karl Jacobs would ever even consider you, but just the knowledge that he cares makes your soul feel a little lighter.

“I’m a mess,” you stutter, bringing your fist up to wipe at your nose.

“Nah,” Karl grins. He runs the pad of his thumb across your cheek and grins. “You’re alright.”

“It’s snowing!” Graham wakes Karl up by jumping on his chest.

Karl sucks in a breath, winded at the sudden weight, and grabs the boy, lifting him off of his chest and onto the mattress. “Hey, Buddy. Let’s not jump on sleeping people, okay?”

“Okay,” Graham says. He’s already lost interest in Karl, now crawling off of the bed to open the blinds. “Come look at the snow!”

“I see!” Karl rubs his tired eyes and checks his watch. “We might have a snow day, Graham.”

“Yes!” Graham pumps his fist into the air. “Let’s go tell mom!”

You’re sitting on your bed, chewing on a red licorice rope and flipping through a fashion magazine. You look up when Karl and Graham enter.

Karl likes seeing you like this: the domesticity of seeing you in the morning, lazy and true. His chest sparks when he thinks this may be one of the only moments he can capture you like this, so he intends to commit the sight to memory.

“Did I hear snow day?” You grin at Karl, childlike wit in your own eyes — the same as your son’s.

“Looks like it.” Karl rolls up the sleeves of the sweater he slept in. “You want pancakes? I make some mean chocolate chip pancakes.”

You shift your gaze away from his arms and clear your throat. “Uh, yeah. Just let me get dressed and I’ll help—“

“No need,” Karl insists. “Enjoy your quiet time. Graham and I will make the most delicious pancakes you’ve ever tasted.”

“With lots of chocolate chips!” Graham shouts.

You give him a pointed look. “But not too many.”

Graham huffs. “But not too many,” he repeats.

Momentary splashes sound from your bathroom, followed by Graham screaming “It’s a dragon! Run for cover!”

Karl giggles from his place on the couch. He’s got mushroom-patterned socks on, and he’s tucked up into the cushions, nursing a can of Monster. “How does he still have so much energy?”

You sigh and pull your beanie down over your forehead. “You’d think a snow day would tire him out. Thanks for constantly carrying him up the hill, by the way. I know you’re a teacher, but sometimes I forget how good you are with kids.”

“I do have a godson,” Karl reminds you.

“But Tucker is a baby,” you say. You only know the baby’s name because of Karl’s constant snap stories about him.

“Most babies and kids want the same thing. Affection and attention.” Karl scoots over to the edge of the couch and pats the cushion.

You sit next to him. “I guess that’s true. You’re really good with Graham. He’s not this open to other adults.”

Karl is clearly blushing now; you can see his pink cheeks even in the light of the television. “He’s great in class, always helping the other kids.”

“He wants to impress you,” you say. You pop open a can of orange soda and take a sip. “He thinks you’re just the coolest guy.”

Karl laughs and shakes his head. “Didn’t you hear, Y/n? I’m handsome and cool.”

“Oh, of course,” you nudge his shin with our own sock-clad foot. “How could I forget? Mr. Ladies Man in high school.”

This makes Karl blush even harder, because he most certainly was not a ladies man in high school. In fact, he was a nerd in all senses of the word, part of the debate club with a few other boys. He had a few dates here and there, but nothing ever stuck.

“Shut up,” he mumbles. “My time is gonna come.”

“Hasn’t it already?” you ask before you can really process your own words. But of course he knows that he’s grown into his face, right?

Karl is positively handsome, eyes bright and lashes long. He’s so warm and comforting to you. He must be just as comforting to everyone else.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re handsome, Karl,” you say plainly.

“You mean that?”

“Of course I do,” you say. “Why would I lie?”

Karl opens his mouth, perhaps to call you out. To tell you you’ve been too honest, but he’s interrupted by your son.

“Mom! I’m ready to get out now!”

“I should go,” you say, still looking at his eyes.

“Yeah,” he says. His sweater has small spots on the shoulders where snow has fallen and since melted. He shivers.

“You should take a shower. You’ll catch a cold.”

“Okay,” he whispers. “Yeah, I’ll do that.”

Chandler comes over the following Saturday night to hang out with Karl, and you’re surprised at how much he truly hasn’t changed since high school.

He’s still got infamously perfect eyebrows, and his voice is still monotonous despite its humor. “Nice place.” He raises his brows as he looks around.

“Who are you?” Graham is sitting at the kitchen table, watching Minecraft playthroughs (kid-friendly ones you’ve watched through yourself) on your phone to entertain himself while you clean.

“I’m Chandler, Karl’s friend.”

“This is Mr. Jacob’s friend from school,” you say, detailing your words so they’re easier for your son to digest.

Graham stares at him for a moment, not quite judging but not quite accepting either. “Okay. Do you want to see my rock collection?”

Chandler looks genuinely excited, and accepts before you can come up with an excuse for him. Graham tells Chandler to stay in the kitchen while he grabs all of his rocks.

“How have you been?” you ask the taller man. “Like, with the flooding and everything?”

“Well, I’m on a couch at Chris’, which is good since he doesn’t charge rent. But that means I’m near Tucker, and that baby has some lungs.”

You laugh. “I remember when Graham was a baby. I was so young, and my mom told me it was my responsibility to wake up and take care of him whenever he cried in the middle of the night. I was so pissed at her for making me do that, but those were some of the best nights to bond with him.” You realize you’re ranting and shake your head. “Whatever. Baby screams are loud as hell.”

“You can say that again. I’ve been talking to my friend Jimmy about taking his spare room and paying rent. I dunno how many more sleepless nights I can take.”

“Why would you need to pay rent if you’re just crashing?” You wipe down the kitchen table to keep yourself busy.

“Didn’t Karl tell you? Our landlord is in heaps of trouble because the pipes weren’t up to code and that’s why they busted. The damage is basically too expensive to fix, so we’ve got to find new places.”

You stop cleaning. “Karl didn’t tell me that.”

“Oh.” Chandler scratches his brow. “He probably didn’t want to worry you. He feels really bad that he’s stayed with you this long.”

“It’s only been a month or so,” you counter. “Besides, Karl’s a great housemate. He cleans and keeps Graham occupied. Plus, now I have someone to watch corny game shows with.”

Chandler grins. “Oh. Okay, I get it.”

“Get what?” Karl, finally out of the shower, steps into the kitchen and immediately tackles Chandler in an energized hug.

“Nothing!” Chandler’s voice cracks

You shoot Chandler a weird look, and change the subject. “Where are you guys going?”

“To play video games at Jimmy’s.” Karl says, and the thrill in his voice makes you think of high school. Of the debate team bus rounding the corner. Of you standing there, waiting to congratulate him with a big hug and a frosty from Wendy’s.

You miss it. “Have fun, okay? I’m probably going to tuck in as soon as Graham does, so just let yourself in.”

“You’re leaving?” Graham comes in, and his arms are filled with smooth and rough stones and gems he’s both found by himself and bought at random general stores while traveling.

“Not before I see your rocks!” Chandler says with so much enthusiasm, you think he’s telling the truth.

Graham giggles and drops the rocks onto the ground. Of course, he wants your guest to sit on the floor and count rocks. You’re almost embarrassed.

“ ‘ Okay, Y/n?” Karl laughs at your expression. Then he places his arm on your shoulder, thumbs the skin of your upper arm.

And once again, it’s high school. It’s senior year graduation and Karl is the only one who congratulates you. It’s his comforting touch, him coming over in the middle of the night after you texted him a picture of your first sonogram. It’s that same comforting touch. That little “I’m here,” and it melts you on the inside, leaves you in a shell of an eighteen girl again. Scared, and worried, and a little less alone.

“Yeah,” you manage. “I’m okay.”

The television plays Cartoon Network reruns on a low hum. Karl is curled up in a blanket, nursing a bottle of water and thinking over Chandler’s words.

You’ve liked her since high school, dude.

Which is a complete lie. Seriously, Karl didn’t have a crush on you in high school. He would know if he had a crush on his best friend. You’ve been his friend since freshman year, and that’s all you’ve ever been.

Now in college, it was different. In college, Karl was alone in a dorm with Chris, and you were one of the only people from high school he stayed in contact with. In college, he would bring you your favorite snacks and drinks, and other things you would forget to buy because you were a part-time student and a full-time mom. In college, you would pull all-nighters with him, working on your exams while Graham was asleep, then using energy drinks to get through the next day.

Karl even remembers the time your mom caught the three of you fast asleep on your rug, with unopened monster cans and an empty milk bottle beside you.

Throughout your entire pregnancy he was warned not to stay friends with the pregnant girl — it’d be too much for him, he wouldn’t want to become the new father, and all kinds of other stuff people would mumble to him when you weren’t around.

But you never expected him to be anything other than your friend. You never asked him for the help he gave — though you thanked him always — and you never once assumed he’d take the role of Graham’s dad.

And now… now he finds himself wishing you would.

“Mr. Jacobs?” Graham creeps up without him even realizing.

Karl jumps, sets his water — and thoughts — aside. “Hey, Bud. It’s really late. What are you doing up?”

Graham sniffs, and Karl realizes that the boy is crying. “I had a nightmare.”

Karl holds out his arms before he can think, and lets the five-year-old crawl into his lap. He wraps them both in his blanket and turns the television up just a little more. “Was it scary?”

“You left.” Graham says, voice less watery, like he doesn’t know the weight of his words. He’s focused on the rerun of Adventure Time that’s playing. He’s not even remotely interested in his nightmare now, with his tears dried up, and his eyes drooping back towards slumber.

“I’m going to leave one day,” Karl says, because he thinks it’s important that Graham knows.

“You should stay with me and Mom,” Graham says. He yawns. “We like you so much!”

Karl’s heart stutters. He tries not to think about it.

When Graham’s bed is empty the next morning, you freak out. He’s always in his room in the morning. Even if he wakes up before you, he stays in and plays with his toys.

You’ve already got your phone out, and your mother’s number called, when you walk into the living room.

Relief floods your system. Karl and Graham are asleep on the couch, snuggled up serenely like they didn’t just cause you to have a premature heart attack.

You hang up before the call to your mom can go through and stand there, watching the two boys sleep. Graham has both his arms wrapped around Karl’s forearm. It’s such a sweet picture that you take out your phone and snap one.

The flash is on.

Karl scrunches his nose and winces. “What the–”

“Sorry!” You whisper. “You both looked so cute, I couldn’t help it.”

Karl smiles, still sleepy, and finally opens his eyes. He peers at you, stormy green under fluttering lashes and you’re almost intimidated into looking away. “He had a nightmare.”

“Oh?”

“About me leaving.”

“Oh.” You frown. “I’m really sorry about that. I keep telling him that you’re moving out soon, but I don’t think he fully understands.”

Graham stirs. You reach down and pick him up. Your knuckles brush across Karl’s warm, sweater-clad chest and you suddenly wish you could cuddle with him, too. You shake the thoughts away and focus on your drowsy son. “You’re staying at Grandma's for a few days, remember?”

Graham rubs his eyes and perks up. “And I’ll see her cat?”

“Yes,” you confirm. “But we’ve got to get you dressed because she’s coming in a few minutes.”

“Karl Jacobs!” Your mom’s voice embarrassingly rings through the apartment, and you realize Karl has taken it upon himself to open the door. “Y/n told me she had a temporary roommate but I never thought she would finally ask you!”

“Oh my gosh…” you mumble, buckling Graham’s overalls and hauling him up into your arms. “Mom! His apartment flooded so he’s staying here. Don’t be weird about it.”

“But he’s so handsome,” your mom coos. You’re concerned she might reach forward and pinch Karl’s already ruddy cheeks.

“Thanks,” Karl laughs. “But she’s right, I’m just squatting until I can find a new place.”

Your mom harrumphs. “Well, I don’t see why you can’t stay here forever. Y/n doesn’t even use that office room. And even if she did, the two of you could just share a room.”

“Mom!” You plunk Graham into her hands and grab his overnight bag. “You have to leave.”

“Did I say something wrong?” She sounds worried, but there’s an undisclosed mirth in her eyes that makes you think of your freshman year, when you did have a crush on Karl.

“You said everything wrong,” you say, kindly pushing her out. “Have a good time, Graham. I love you! As always, Mom, call if you need me to come get him.”

“Yeah, right!” She yells over her shoulder. Graham is already giggling, so you close the door with confidence.

You turn back to your roommate. “I’m sorry about that, Karl.”

“It’s fine.” He smiles, but it’s reserved. “But speaking of me finding a place… I know Chandler told you that I can’t go back to my own apartment. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

“It’s okay,” you say. You want to say “You can stay here as long as you want, and long as you’ll let me keep you,” but that would reveal too much, and you don’t want to lose the one good friend you have.

“And I was thinking I should move out soon anyway.” Karl pulls his sweater sleeves until they cover his hands. He’s hiding. He’s shielding himself the same way he did in junior year, when he got turned down by his crush to go to the prom. “I don’t think it’s good for Graham to get this attached to me if I’m just going to leave.”

“Oh,” Your sleeves are too short, but you want to shield yourself too. “Yeah, that’s… that’s probably a good idea.”

Karl stands there for a beat, like he’s waiting for you to say something more. Like he hasn’t just taken your heart and pushed it aside. Like this hurts a lot less than it actually does.

But any word out of your mouth would be tearful. It would be honest. It would ruin everything. “I’m going to go on a run.”

There’s a cricket outside that won’t stop chirping against your window. You blame it for your insomnia, choosing to ignore the anxiety of eventually losing Karl. It feels so horribly childish, since you’ll see him when you drop Graham off at school. And you’ll see him whenever the two of you go out for coffee on weekends.

But you won’t see him in the kitchen, reaching for the pancake mix so his shirt rises up and you can see the dimples in his back. You won’t see him humming along to the radio while he works on his lesson plans. You won’t feel his warmth when the two of you stay awake, nursing spiked lemonade and giggling at the commentary videos you find on YouTube.

He’ll just be Karl again. He won’t be home anymore.

Startled by the realization, you get out of your covers and rush to your door.

It opens before you can even reach for the doorknob, and there’s Karl in his pajamas, biting his lip and avoiding your eyes.

“I don’t want you to leave,” you say, just as Karl confesses,

“I love you.”

You open your arms and he dives in, face pressed into the space where your neck meets your shoulder. Warmth envelopes you and the scent of pine fills your nose.

Karl is timeless. Youthful glory and childish pride. He’s a pinch on the side and a push on the swings. Like a rock that actually skips on the first try. Like shoes that you can slip on when they’re still tied. And he’s here, in your arms, squeezing you like you’re something valuable enough to lose. He’s confessing love like you aren’t the worst possible candidate for his heart.

“I can’t offer you much,” you start, but Karl bumps his forehead against yours, boyish and playful — football fields and bright red lockers and secret notes on bathroom walls.

“I’ve known you for years, Y/n,” Karl’s voice is a low rumble. Green grass eyes blinking at you like you’re something to second glance at. “I know what I’m getting into. I want you. I want Graham. I want everything this is, and everything we’ve been for the past month. I don’t want this to end.”

You close your eyes, because his are too honest. He’s open and vulnerable and gentle — a child on the first day of school, ready to make friends. You take a deep breath, try to remember what you were like on your first day. Rosy cheeks and shy glances. Knobby knees and a trusting heart. You reach out for whoever you once were — the Y/n with a heart open and willing to be loved. “I don’t want this to end either. I’m in love with you, Karl.”

His grin lights up your world in its entirety. Gold flecks in emerald green disappear as he smiles, too thrilled to keep his eyes open. And when he kisses you, warm lips against cold ones, you feel like a puzzle has just slotted into place.

It would only make sense that you would grow to love the boy you grew up with.

[honorguk]

you console them through a break up➔ skz

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pairing ━ stray kids x friend!reader genre ━ mild angst, fluff warnings ━ mentions of sad skz :( + breakups, pain, etc... summary ━ he’s going through a tough time after a break up, and you’re, undoubtedly, there for him. this is probs how it would go ↳ requested! a/n: i did this in a muuuuuuch longer and different style, i hope you like it because i really did :))

────✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ────

─ • CHAN

i can see this happening two ways: he would show up at your door with his head completely dropped towards the ground and eyes glossy, as you’d welcome him with a hug so that he rests on you for just a little bit, or you’d knock at his studio door - in which he’s been suspiciously spending a little too much time in that week - only to be met with huffs and a sad love song dedicated to his ex that both of you know he’ll never release. 

you’d sit there on his couch, listening to his side of things and how inevitable the chances of getting back together are, and would hold his hand throughout. he’d squeeze it at the parts of the story which hurt him most, and then shift his seating so that he’s beside you on the couch, once again, laying his head on your shoulder and taking in the comforting sadness in the room through barely audible sniffles.

─ • MINHO

he was always one of the quieter members, but never this quiet...

when you crawled on top of his bunk to cuddle, as you usually did, it earned no reaction from him, and you know something was wrong when he simply turned so that his back faced you, eyes continuously glued to his phone throughout. you saw him scrolling through the break-up messages, and even though he initiated the break-up, he couldn’t help but feel like a total idiot. you’d lay a soft hand on his shoulder as you silently read through the texts with him, and only when he’s closed his phone and a stray tear ran down his face is when you’d gently collapse onto him, and just lay there. 

soon, he’d turn. his arms would snake around you and he’d press you harshly to him, more sniffles eliciting from the boy, as you’d serve as tranquil comfort. later, when you forced him out of his bed for dinner did he want to tell you everything, but you shushed him up with a forkful of food in his mouth, telling him that everything is in the past, and unfortunately it cannot be changed, so we should therefore, move on.

─ • CHANGBIN

he would definitely be the type to pretend everything is totally fine, until he just can’t anymore. you know him better than most, and aren’t like his members - who’d be too shy or scared to approach the boy in a state like this - so you’d get to the bottom of his constant sulkiness. 

he’d also try to tell you that he’s “on a break” and it’s “not over”, when it totally is, so you’d help him by cautiously telling him to stop lying to himself, and see the bigger picture, and how to work around it. after a waterfall of tears and upset mumbles passes, you brighten his mood using compliments and listing of the things you like about him, before comforting him and getting him to see the rest of the positive things in his life.

─ • HYUNJIN

you would be there with him as he was going through his break-up. when he went upstairs to take a phone call and didn’t come back for over an hour, you’d creep your way to the doorway of your bedroom and see the boy with pale trails of tears on his cheeks, holding onto the phone for dear life as the other party had said something final, and hung up. he’d stare at his screen in utter despair, before loudly wailing and crumbling to the floor. 

you’d run up to him and wrap your arms around his fragile form, as he harshly grabbed your arms and pulled you closer. it would take at least a week of him staying in your house until he wouldn’t cry every night anymore, and you’d do that by simply distracting him. although talking it out helped on the first day, forgetting was much harder to do, so you’d do everything in your power to make him, well, forget -- arcades, cinemas, baking, drawing - anything that lead him to a different headscape would help, and would also help him let out his emotions healthily, whether it was thorugh rage at some stupid gameboy machine or his flow of creativity through art.

─ • HAN

han’s the type to cover up his pain and sadness with jokes, so when he told you that he’s been broken up with and tried to smile through the story, his facade couldn’t help but crumble when you unexpectedly jumped to hug him, silencing the boy with your words, “you don’t have to lie around me.” 

that would be what got him balling, and without telling you the rest of the story - the ending was obvious - you’d let him snot up your shirt, and soon would bring him to your room, in which you’d fix up his face and hair, complimenting him throughout, and giving him advice as you did so. 

“if you still love them, go get them back - try your best. rejection is much worse than living with the regret of not doing anything at all.”

─ • FELIX

he didn’t even have to tell you; when he showed up at your door with the most bloodshot eyes you’ve ever seen, you’d pout at his state and let him inside with a huge hug. he’d bawl into your shoulders and chest as you sat him in the living room and waited until he got tired of crying, with incoherent mumbles in between. you’d wrap him in a blanket and throw away the large pile of snotty tissues on your coffee table, before you both decided on a movie. he would keep laying his head on your shoulder, and you'd have to pat it every now and then whenever a romantic scene would come, hearing low whimpers and sob erupt from the boy again. 

─ • SEUNGMIN

“perhaps it’s for the best,” he’d huff out unexpectedly as you sat beside each other on the couch. you’d tilt your head on confusion, putting away your phone and turning to him. “they broke up with me.” seungmin would say emotionlessly, almost lifelessly, which was his mechanism for comfort. “what do you mean?” you’d ask, but he’d only sigh. 

“what I mean, is that it’s over. forever.” 

you’d lowly curse under your breath as seungmin sat, soullessly staring at the wall, eyes starting to gloss up at the memory. “this calls for liquor,” you’d say and head to the kitchen to grab two glasses and a whiskey, before returning to a now-sniffling best friend. you’d pour the drinks, click your glasses and put on a show you always loved watching together, and although it didn’t cause the same laughter and smiles as before, it was the best plan both of you could come up with for the time being. he’d rest his head on your shoulder after a while, eyes closing as he drifted off to sleep, his ultimate solution for everything as you carried on with the series.

─ • JEONGIN

the sadness wouldn’t hit jeongin until he was in your arms, being hugged.  “they said they had to think about it...” he would blubber out, wiping his nose and eyes on the sleeve of his shirt. your parental instincts would come in as you’d crouch down to his height, jeongin on the floor of your apartment, and start preaching.

“when you truly love someone, you don’t have to think about things like that, jeongin. the fact that they’re doubting themselves is enough of a sigh for you to let go. so let’s move on, together.” you’d grab his hands as you spoke, yet the words seemed to fly over his head. “we could’ve just remained friends..” he insisted, lying to himself. 

“after everything you’ve been through, you could never just be friends..” you sighed, and watched jeongin’s face contort in another wail, wrapping your arms around his fragile form.

[tobiosmilktea]

umpah umpah! smau

↪︎ bokuto x f!reader x iwaizumi

[033] — epilogue!

masterlist | prev. | next

a/n: this is definitely not my best writing cause my brain was going brr the entire time i was writing this, but i honestly can’t believed i have finished yet another smau! 🥳 ✨if i’m being completely honest this smau took a complete turn to what i was initially planning,, but it ended up not being that bad. i certainly feel like this smau would’ve been a lot better if i didn’t have school preoccupying me 24/7, but i’m still really proud of this. thank you guys for reading and dealing with this messy, messy smau!! ☺️

a year flew by faster than you had hoped. Two weeks turned into a month, a month turned into six, and six months turned into a year. A lot of things can happen within a year. Hell, a shit ton of things can happen within six months, yet here you were, all glammed up in your best dress at the move premiere of love cemetery.

you hadn’t felt this nervous in ages. the quickening of your pulse, the rapidly beating heart, to your pals that perspired as the seconds ticked on by. akaashi stood by you this whole time as your gaze keeps looking over to the guest list as if it were to magically change if you were too look away for one second. akaashi had been by your side, your moral support and the absolute backbone of your sanity the moment you and the team landed in los angeles a year ago. he noticed everything about you. he was one of your best friends, how could he not notice the way you were suddenly quiet and not excited right now?

he laid a careful hand on the small of your back to comfort you, leaning over to the same list of guests you were worrying about. “are you worried about who i invited again?”

“i’m more worried they’re not coming.” you confess without a single beat missed.

“oh, they will,” he assured you confidently. there was even a rising smirk in his expression when he let go of you, “have a little bit of faith in me will you? i was the one who got you back in touch with them.”

you huff playfully, rolling your eyes as you recalled the strange feeling of isolation over six months ago when you landed in la. it was in no doubt the longest flight of your life, lasting a good fifteen hours if you counted the two hour layover in hawaii due to reckless turbulence (it was one of the scariest flights in your life too). you had read their texts then, drowning in the sudden downpour of emotions when you read their words, i love you.

it almost didn’t seem real. you swore it had to have been the fatigue playing games on you as you couldn’t sleep for the life of you on the plane. yeah, maybe that was it, you excused. you were so desperate for their messages to be a figment of your imagination, you literally tried everything—turning your phone on and off, asking sugawara for eye droplets, and even ignored it until you were back on the plane and landed in los angeles. it had to be fake, please be fake. yet, in the back of your head you knew damn well it wasn’t.

there was a plaguing thought within you, one that’s so destructive and degenerative that you hated the fact you thought this way. but it wasn’t like you could help it. insecurity was a troublesome venom that coursed through your veins everyday and there didn’t seem to be an antidote to your own self-destruction. 

you loved them both, but you weren’t entirely sure if you had enough love to give for the both of them, let alone one. iwaizumi and bokuto’s feelings confused you to the core. you broke their hearts, yet how could they still love you so dearly?

you didn’t know the answer nor did you have time to even find it.

the film crew stayed in los angeles for two weeks and filmed over the course of that time period. days were filled with twelve hour shoots and a tight film schedule. being the author of the work itself, you were a major part of the production alongside the director. he trusted your vision and you’d often find yourself staying on set the entire day while kaori and the rest of the ddd team felt like they were on vacation. your only free time during that time was the ten minute holy grails in between takes that you were able to check social media.

you simply didn’t have the time to think about them. and yet they were like haunting ghosts that followed you relentlessly. every time you checked twitter or instagram, you would see every post, every tweet, every story. all of which would send your heart spiraling and tugging.

you missed them. but it wasn’t like you could do anything about it. you couldn’t possibly strike up conversation with any of them after completely ignoring their calls and texts for weeks. you had to have an odd amount of audacity to do that, and you simply didn’t have the guts to do so. if anything, the only lasting form of communication between you and the boys was the ringing notification that you liked each other’s posts.

it was quite the sad reality.

the film set then transferred to new york city, where the next two weeks would be filled with yet another plethora of twelve hour work days. fortunately for you, the rest of the ddd team were pulling a bit more of their weight, helping you on the creative side of things, yet still having the time to do all the fun touristy things whilst in the city.

you could remember the way your heart lit up seeing iwaizumi and bokuto’s names beneath who saw your story. it was a video of you and your team at the lady liberty statue. in it, kaori and yuko were chomping down on gigantic $2 street hot dogs, sugawara was yelling at semi for getting in the way of his film camera, while akaashi was complaining that the wind kept knocking down his green lady liberty hat.

it was strange thinking how fast things can change. within the first week, you were always up for an adventure in the city when the days were filled with work, but as the week progressed, your social meter decreased more and more. 

loneliness hit you then. it was a peculiar type of loneliness, the type that you felt alone despite being surrounded by your closest friends and working on your dream project. you figured you were just homesick the way everyone else was getting all ready for a night out going bar hopping while you sat in the living room of your hotel room in your pajamas.

“are you sure you don’t want to come with us, (y/n)?” kaori asked you, concern washing over her slightly as you flickered her a tired look. 

you shook your head, a small smile of gratitude melting upon your lips. “no, you guys go on ahead and have fun.”

your friends could only give you a look. they knew why you were being like this and they knew damn well it wasn’t homesickness. semi specifically threw you a look that’s meant to be teasing and oddly persuasive. “it’s been over a month, this can be a chance for you to finally meet someone new!” he exclaimed optimistically.

what was stopping you, anyway? it was clear nothing was, yet you still held yourself back. homesickness couldn’t possibly be to reason for it either. why are am i being like this?

“it’s okay, i’m with akaashi,” you decline once more, “he’ll keep me company.”

“alright then, join us once you feel like moving on.” says yuko with a hint of venom in her tone. you couldn’t blame her for saying that though as it was the harsh reality of it all.

your friends filed out the door, closing it in a thud and once again you felt alone. isolated as if you were in a void of your own silent thoughts that even the loud murmurs coming from the television wasn’t enough to drown out your shallow inhibitions. 

the night continued on like this for a few hours. eating snacks in the dark living room with the remote in your hand, flipping channels every five minutes as your running thoughts couldn’t keep your attention span still. it felt like you were missing something, a part of yourself that you couldn’t exactly pinpoint. you thought of all of the possibilities why you felt like there was a void in your heart, yet the only thing you could properly convince yourself on was that you just missed home. but was that really all that you had missed?

you thoughts are interrupted by steps approaching you. akaashi walks into the living room, flicking on the switches and causing you to grimace at the bright lights. your eyes stung slightly as they adjusted from being in the dark for too long.

“where are you going?” you ask akaashi as you noticed his dressed up attire.

“i got done with all the paperwork and emails,” he answers while he fixes the collar of his dress shirt, “i’m deciding to have some fun tonight with the rest of the group. are you still up for it? i’ll wait for you to get ready if you want.”

the thought occurred within you that you should agree. that the possibility of this unexplainable feeling of isolation you were feeling would disappear if you were to just say yes and go. but as self-destructive as you were on yourself, you continued to hold yourself back—hesitant and always second guessing your actions.

you open your mouth slightly, but you ultimately just shook your head no.

akaashi lets out a sigh. he was genuinely hoping you would come around sooner or later. granted, it had been over a month since you guys left japan and he figured you would be over everything by now, but that obviously wasn’t the case. “you might be receiving a call soon... i suggest you should answer it.”

confusion flushed over your expression, giving him a strange look. but before you could even utter a single question to him, akaashi was already up and out the door.

he left you in a wake of curiosity for the rest of the night. it was nearing one in the morning and you still hadn’t yet received a phone call. it honestly sounded incredibly ominous that you grew a tad bit nervous. there were only so many possibilities on who would call, but it would actually infuriate you if akaashi was just joking around. but then again, akaashi isn’t the type to play something childish like that unless it was kaori or semi’s idea. regardless, the thought kept you awake as you eyes practically weighed like cinder blocks at this point.

you couldn’t believe you wait for two hours for a phone call that might not even happ—it shocked you at first, the ringing of your obnoxious ring tone and the buzzing of the vibrations on the table.

furrowing your brows as you reached over, a gasp left you the moment you read the contact name. your slapped a hand over your mouth to muffle your shock. your hand shook from the growing bundle of nerves in your gut as you hesitate.

the name ‘kou’ shined brightly against your face, coaxing you to answer as if your thumb wasn’t frozen the accept button. out of all the possibilities on who would be calling you tonight, it just had to be him. it wasn’t like you opposed talking to bokuto. if anything, you had spent countless of sleepless nights wondering if you should finally answer that text of his. yet no matter how many different messages you have typed, none of them ever saw the light of day. a hurricane of stupid conversation starters and ice breakers swarmed in your head, all messy and disorganized that if you didn’t just suck it up and answered, you would’ve probably missed a chance to reconnect with him.

fuck it, you thought as you accepted the call.

“(y/n)!” bokuto called out to you, sending your heart running thousands of miles an hour. it had been ages since you heard your name come out of his mouth, “how’ve you been? a little birdy told me you needed a little company.”

you had to hold yourself back from smiling too much as you could already feel your cheeks ache. you wanted to scoff and perhaps groan at the sudden embarrassment of what akaashi could’ve told him. “bo—” you started, but is immediately cut off.

yet another familiar voice emitted from bokuto’s line, almost as if they were shouting, “you’re supposed to say that i’m here too, idiot!”

the volleyball player chuckles, “oh sorry, iwa-chan! here.” muffles and cups clanking against each other travel through to line to what you assume is bokuto handing his phone over to iwaizumi.

“uh... hi.” his voice sounded deeper than usual.

“hi iwa, how have you been?” you chuckle, finding his sudden shyness absolutely adorable.

“good, good. i’ve uhh... missed you.”

“i do too.”

“yeah, yeah, you miss me most though right?” bokuto’s loud voice thunders through the call.

the juxtaposition of how daftly different they were was something you could never get enough of. perhaps it was at that moment you finally understood your loneliness through their bickering. you were in fact homesick, but the home that you were thinking of wasn’t what you were missing the most. you suppose the home you missed was them. they were your home.

you let out an amused laugh, “right.”

“that’s good because iwaizumi and i should be mad at you for ghosting us for the past month, but we understand since akaashi explained to us already.”

your eyes suddenly widen into saucers, panicking what he could have possibly said. “what did he tell you?”

“everything,” bo sings.

you audibly groan in embarrassment, throwing your head back onto the couch in retaliation. you were glad they couldn’t see how flushed and red your cheeks were right now as they even extended out to the tips of your ears.

“you know it would’ve been easier to say that you love the both of us and didn’t want to choose right?” iwaizumi points out in between your panic.

“exactly!” cuts in bokuto, “besides we don’t sharing you, you know. who knew you were such a prude, (y/n).” you could practically hear the smirk in his voice as you couldn’t stop the heat from spreading any further from your face.

now you were really glad they weren’t able to see you at that moment. if they did, you would’ve died from the embarrassment then and there. “give me a break, i was too embarrassed to ask,” you mutter, fearing that they could hear how fast your heart was beating through the call.

“ask what?” iwaizumi teases, “ask if you could date the both of us?”

you were internally screaming at this point. everything that you didn’t think was going to happen, happened all within five minutes and you honestly couldn’t believe it. you were pinching yourself as if you were in a dream, yet no matter how hard you squeezed, this was actually happening. “shut up!” was all you could say.

“even if you did ask... it’s not like we could ever say no to you, (y/n).” says bokuto, his words so enticing that you weren’t sure if you’re heart can handle any more of this.

his words left you absolutely speechless. you honestly didn’t know what to say at this point.

"i’m fine with it and bokuto’s fine with it.” iwaizumi says, “it’s just a matter if you’re willing.” 

bokuto then leans forward towards his phone, “so what do you say, (y/n)?”

you swallowed the lump of nerves forming into your throat as the one question you never thought you would ever be asked was right in front of you. and yet you still hesitated despite everything that had just happened. you loved them both, so why weren’t you answering?

a few beats of silence passed before your gained the courage to push out the the very words, “... i’ll think about it.”

“boo! that’s lame!” bokuto shouts.

“i’ll give you guys an answer when i get back home.” you add, hoping to ease the disappointment they were probably feeling at that very moment.

“that won’t be for another few months, though.” iwaizumi deadpans that you could practically see the pout on both of their faces. “but we’ll promise to wait for you, (y/n).”

and so they waited for you to come back home, but you never did. schedules misaligned even when you were finally back home in tokyo. bokuto was getting progressively more busy now that the olympics were coming up and iwaizumi was just as busy, if not busier with the amount of athletes he had to take care of. there was even a constant flying back and forth from tokyo to los angeles for the film, all of which lasted for a few weeks at a time and you swear your couldn’t catch a break.

this went on for months with the only contact between you and the boys were from texting and phone calls that ended up shorter than you anticipated. and now a year had past since you left and this very movie premiere would be the first time you have seen iwaizumi and bokuto for the first time in a year.

this was so ironic how this all played out. you haven’t even realized you already reached the end of the red carpet when an interviewer calls out your name, microphone in hand and a camera pointed directly at your face.

“ms. (y/l/n)!” the woman shouts over the ruckus of snapping photos and other interviewers asking questions to the actors behind you. “there has been rumors going around about your dating life. are you dating msby’s bokuto koutarou or their athletic trainer iwaizumi hajime, who has been getting a lot of attention from stan twitter just recently! could you share some insight on your live life as love cemetery’s creator?”

“um,” you start, not sure how to answer the question as you nervous chuckled, “that’s a secret i’m afraid i can’t tell.”

before the woman could ask you any other questions, you walked away from the carpet and rushed towards the banquet hall. thankfully, akaashi and kaori was nearby and gratefully took your place in the interview without a second thought.

you let out a relieved sigh as much of the noise from the premiere died down as the only people inside the banquet hall were movie critics, the film crew, and other celebrities who were invited. by now, no one in this room would have the audacity to ask you such a personal question which caused weights to fall off your shoulder. you honestly should be used to those types of questions right now as a webtoon author that literally writes romance, but it always catches you off guard when you least expect it. honestly, you were just glad you didn’t slip up.

as a small little reward for yourself, you grab a flute of champagne from the refreshment table, decorated all fancy that you even hesitated to mess up the display. you turn around to face the growing crowd of mingling individuals, talking and laughing amongst each other as you sipped your drink gently. but as you watch you feel a presence on either side of you, both of which sent your heart soaring and a smile to appeared on your cherry colored lips. you didn’t even have to look them up and down to see how handsome they both looked. to think they were all yours.

“so what did you tell that interviewer?” bokuto asks nonchalantly as if he could just get away from a proper greeting. you were surprised he didn’t just engulfed you into his arms then and there.

instead, you opted to play along, “about what?” you tested with a smirk.

“the question about who you’re dating,” iwaizumi adds in from your other side.

you shrug, taking a sip of your champagne, “you guys probably wouldn’t like the answer i gave her.” you could feel the brazen stares bokuto and iwaizumi were giving each other—competitive and oddly provoking.

“she probably said she was dating me,” bokuto hums in response, confidence radiating off him that it caused you to scoff.

“i doubt it,” debates iwaizumi, giving him the same energy. “she probably said she was dating me.”

“actually,” you cut in before the two could possibly start bickering with each other, “i remember specifically saying that i’d thinking about it.” 

the boys give you a look, downing their drinks as if they were like the shots they swallowed many nights ago at that bar. it was as if they were trying to win your over again like your feelings had changed since then. 

“oh yeah?” bokuto starts, inching closer towards you while iwaizumi rested his arm on the table behind you.

“so what do you think, (y/n)?” says iwaizumi.

they both towered over you, just inches away from your body, but you didn’t cower or back away. if anything there was a playful smirk inevitably resting upon your lips.

now this, was going to be fun.

fun facts! —

sugawara has five rolls of film he had to get developed once they wrapped filming in osaka, each roll is from each city they went to for filming

iwaizumi and bokuto became really close friends when y/n left for la as they bonded over getting ghosted

bc of this,, bokuto posted a pic of him and iwa on his instagram and it got lots of attention that iwa went viral on stan twitter

taglist: (closed!)

@moonlightaangel @elianetsantana @k4tiepie @memorableminds @wheeshllumi @suhkusa @kitsunetea @airybby @noeminemi @truly-a-snitch @keichan @cosmicmermaid25 @bap-kingdom @saturnfarie @kwdflash @ennos-baby @dinablossom @chrisrue15 @seikamuzu @nestlevanilla @chasekudo @yammmers @pixcldust @iwaizluv @h0ngh0ngh0ng @emogrils @tiredandkindaoverworked @tsumue @underratedmage @bokutosuwus @kellesvt @unstableye @oh-tapeworm @scrappyfka @alittlebitofrain @mxngy @tpwkatsumu @atsumuwoah @macchiatoast @dicerawr @kageyamasbabygorl @some-random-stranger-007 @vhskenma @wntrmn @little-plants @stargirlara @kissungjae @je11yfishwriter @sbaepsae @apollochjld

[hwrryscherry]

HARRY x MODEL Y/N  facts part.1

HARRYxMODELY/N masterlist is here.

Credits: The middle manip on this edit picture (the one with Harry’s yellow suit) was made by the beautiful @/94sbells.

Author’s note: HEY GUYS! I know that I’ve been kinda gone lately, but I have reasons for that. My summer vacation ended, and I had to go back to school. We’re still studying online, but I had to take a diagnostic test this past week so they’d know how’s my scholarity level. So, because of all the studying and trying to keep up on a new school (yes, I moved from schools.), I didn’t have any time to write or finish my writings. I’ll try finishing a request today because I’m feeling super creative and nostalgic BUT to everyone who follows HARRYxMODELY/N series, like it and miss it, I just did this ‘’facts-timeline’’ in a hope to feed you guys lol. Anyway, this is like a time line of 2017 and how their relationship developed on that year. I plan on doing one for each year till 2020 and post it on the break between posting the requests. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it and maybe discover things about them that you didn’t know yet. Love you all and thank you for the support and love! TPWK and remember that you’re so golden.

The first ever communication between them was on May 12th, 2017(Model Y’N’s 20th birthday) AND the realesing of HS1 album.

She sent a DM to him on instagram congratulating him by saying she loved the album and wished him all the success.

No, they didn’t know each other and she honestly thought that he’d never answer to her.

After a few hours, Harry answered to her message and she freaked out but never answered back because she didn’t want to bother him.

They officialy met on November 28th, 2017 when Harry performed on Victoria Secrets Fashion Show that occured in Shanghai, China.

It was the first time that Model Y/N ever walked for Victoria Secrets.

She walked the Goddesses segment while Harry sang ‘’Only Angel’’.

Harry literally got on his knees when she walked past him.

He likes to describe his emotion at that moment as “mesmerized”.

Even though she knew that VS models and the singers are supposed to flirt a little on stage to create a teasing sensation, she was so surprised by his actions.

After the show was done, Harry wasn’t going to attend the VS after party but decided to attend last minute because he wanted to know her.

He approached her very calmly and gentle and invited her to ‘’hang out’’ with him and his band through Shanghai as he was going to leave on the next day to complete his tour.

She asked Bella to go with her because she didn’t want to hang out with him and his bandmates alone as they didn’t know each other.

But she did felt a huge connection between them almost immidiately.

Through Shanghai, Harry was hitting on her the ENTIRE time! He was complimenting, being super nice, and flirting as well but she honestly thought he was just being nice.

Harry thought for a while that she was playing it hard to get until he realized that she wasn’t.

They spent the whole night going through Shanghai.

They went to Nanjing Road and walked around seeing the lights.

They bought those film cameras and took the funniest pictures ever. They still have those films but never digitalized it to the computer.

They went to all those mini bars and had a few drinks while eating chinese food.

Btw, Harry and Model Y/N LOVE chinese food.

They were on the same hotel.

They didn’t go back yet but plan to do so when quarantine is over.

When it was about 8am, they came back to their hotel.

They both agreed that they would come back to Shanghai one day to go to disneyland.

So Harry went back to his tour and Model Y/N went back to NYC.

On the night out in Shanghai they exchanged numbers because Bella Hadid(Model Y/N’s bff)noticed that Harry was interested on Model Y/N, so she casually told them that they should get each other’s number.

The media was crazy about them. First it was the VS move and then there was tons of paps photos of them out in Shanghai.

The media was trying to sell the story as if they were already dating before the VS, which wasn’t true.

They talked for months as friends because of the number exchange.

They talked via texts, calls and face time all the time but it wasn’t anything more than friendship to her.

Model Y/N and some friends of her was planning on traveling to Ibiza, Spain to celebrate New Year’s Eve and as she and Harry were getting really close to each other she invited him and told him that he could take whoever he wanted.

Of course she thought he was cute and had a small crush but nothing extreme.

Harry did invited her for some of his shows but she couldn’t attend any of it.

That made Harry think that she didn’t like him.

She thought he was going to take a girlfriend.

Harry took Gemma and her boyfriend to the trip with him.

Yes, their whole group of friends were there as well but midia acted like there was only them in it.

They were in Ibiza from December 28th, 2017 to January 3rd, 2018.

The group of friends that was in Ibiza with them included Bella Hadid, Fai Khadra, Imaan Hammam, Grace Elizabeth, Gemma Styles, Machine Gun Kelly, Model Y/N’s brother, etc.

And yes, there were TONS of paps in Ibiza following them because the media was selling the whole ‘’Harry Styles’s new girlfriend’s thing.“

Harry is super private about relationships and Model Y/N had ended a serious relationship early that year so they just didn’t address any rumors because they didn’t care about what the media said.

They “saw” each other as friends and that was what mattered.

It was probably the most random group of friends that she ever traveled with, but it was fun on the same way.

They had a really cool and funny vibe, and it was really easy to everyone to get along.

When fans noticed that Y/N’s friends were following Harry on social media they really thought all the rumors were real.

Their house was really close to the beach, so you could actually see it by Harry’s bedroom barricade.

They usually went to the beach or stayed by the pool during the day and went out at night.

Honestly, they used to come home from the nightlife of Ibiza at 3/4am.

They’d wake up after noon for sure.

Harry wouldn’t eat his breakfast until Model Y/N’s woken up.

He’d cook an avocado toast sandwich to her every morning and wait for her to wake up.

He’d do it because on one of their late night talks, she had told him that she loved it so much.

They’d eat at the barricade while watching the beach.

Model Y/N HAD always been obsessed with Harry’s hair and she’d tell him that he needed to moisturize his hair as they were under the sun all the time.

It was just an excuse to touch his hair.

So they’d exchange it. She’d put oil on his hair, and he’d put on hers.

If they had to go to the beach, Harry would convince her to do the craziest things like fly board flying, going on jetskis together and those things.

He was the only one to convince her to do it because she is TERRIFIED of swimming in the ocean.

They’d all go out for lunch on some restaurants and after going shopping before the sunset.

Harry would always come to her saying like “oh, this would look good in you” whenever he saw a piece of cloth that he liked.

Some fans would post pics of them on social media only making the rumors go hard.

Then one fan would post that met up with them and they said they’re just friends, which was true at that time.

Back at the house, they’d get ready to enjoy the Ibiza nightlife.

They’d dress a little better and go out to some bar or club.

Do you know those videos of Harry dancing in Anguilla? It would be the same vibe. Harry and Model Y/N would vibe so hard to the songs, and dance and shout and sing. It would be really funny.

Model Y/N used to go to his room at 4 am when they came back from the street because they usually sit by the barricade and talked for hours.

They’d talk about all the things that mattered to them, like: career, fashion, music, video, paintings, friends, family, how fame changed their lives.

They’d laugh about all the dating rumors as well, but it would be that type of laugh like “lol I wished it was true.”

They’d tell each other dad jokes and stories about their lives and experiences until the sunrise.

By the afternoon of December 31st, 2017, they were all talking about their new year’s kiss and they decided that Harry and Y/N would be one of the pairs to kiss.

Model Y/N agreed but it was more of a joke to her than a real kiss; she didn’t take it seriously.

They all got ready to celebrate NYE on the beach.

On the next day there were tons of videos of them dancing on the beach and them with fans as well.

When the New Year came, they had their first kiss and of course that changed everything.

Both of them felt sparkles and by the effect of a few drinks that both of them had on that night, they did share some other kisses here and there on that night.

For a miracle, no one captured them kissing on camera.

FACTS OF HARRY & MODEL Y/N’S RELATIONSHIP THROUGH 2018 WILL BE CONTINUED ON THE NEXT POST.

[asociallyawkwardteen]

FACE - Woosung/Sammy Kim - Drabble

Kim Woosung/Sammy Kim x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Friends to Lovers

Word count: 2,5k

Summary: After a long semester of uni finally comes to an end, y/n and her friends are able to go out again and have fun. A fun night out turns into something very beautiful.

(Also I would like to apologize for any errors, english is not my first langugae so please have mercy on me ^^’)

~Hope you like it!

„Finally!!! We are done with all those stupid exams!!!” your friend Coco shouted once you got back to your apartment from Uni after having your last exam for this semester today.

“Hey, you do know that we have neighbors, right?” you giggled, hitting her in a playful way.

“Yeah, yeah, but aren’t you glad that we finally can relax?? We should celebrate it!”

“Of course I am glad, silly. So how do you want to celebrate surviving another semester?”

“Hmm, I’m not sure yet but I want to do it tonight! Otherwise it’s not as much of an celebration.”

“Sounds a lot like you want to go drinking, huh?”

She smiled at you sheepishly, “Maybe…”

“Okay so a girls night out it is?”

“Eeeeh…” she started hesitatingly, blushing a little

“what do you mean ‘eeeh’?”

“How about…”

“Wait! You want to ask the cute guy from our history class out, don’t you??” you said wiggling your eyebrows at her

“Heyy!” she punched your arm, “what I was going to say was: we could gather a few of our friends… and maaaaybe also hajoon…” she got quieter during the end mumbling the last word.

You grinned. “Well you can invite some people I guess, still don’t have a lot of friends that aren’t also yours here” you smiled a little embarrassed at yourself hearing that coming out of your mouth after being here for already one and a half year.

“Oh just not too many please… I’d like to still keep the circle small tonight.” you added

“Sure thing she said, sitting down on the couch and already looking through her phone for the right people”

Some time passed and you used it well by taking a nap, seemed like the best idea since you’re probably gonna be out the whole night. However, your peaceful slumber was rudely interrupted by Coco barging in your room exclaiming that she finally had the perfect selection of people.

You mumbled a half awake “Shoot” and nuzzled your head back into your pillow.

“Okay so, since we want a rather small group this time, I made sure that I selected them very carefully!” She listed a few of your friend group to which you just nodded to, still half asleep.

“And-I-also-might-have-asked-Hajoon-if-he-was-free-and-he-is-joining-us!!” She quickly spat out hiding her face in her hands squealing like a little kid.

You grinned at her, “glad you finally had the guts to ask him out!”

“That’s not all thought, I thought that since I would be a little occupied with hajoon tonight I though I would invite someone for you too! BUT- Please don’t hit me now okay!”

You slowly opened your eyes looking at her kinda pissed already. “And who would that someone be?”

“Sammy…” she mumbled

“HUH?!?!” now it was really over with your beauty sleep, you shot up in your bed looking at her in disbelief. “Sammy?, you… mean Sammy Kim?? Your freind from highschool, who I had nothing but awkward interaction with since I met him last year?” 

“Awkward Interactions?” she giggled, “ if that’s what you call love at first sight but no clue how to handle it, yeah sure you guys had some AwKwArD InTeRaCtIoNs. And now don’t act like I didn’t realize how you two were looking at each other that night, plus how often you too hung out to sTuDy.”

“No No No, he really helped me out with my photography project back then, and you promised me that we would never speak of that night again!” Just as you finished your sentence Coco’s phone made a ding. She opened it and grinned once again.

“Oh come on you both have the hots for each other but your are both to scared to admit it and I like the effect you have on each other, you both are like creative chargers for one another. I’ve yet to see you procrastinate when he is around and you have heard his music improving yourself, do you think that comes just out of nowhere? Huh? Whatever he just texted that he is coming tonight so this discussion is over!”

You looked at her with wide eyes and your heart skipping a beat. You definitely have a crush on Sammy and yeah maybe that happened the first time you met him BUT you were just never really the relationship type of girl, plus you didn’t plan on staying in Korea after Uni so you didn’t want to get to attached to something/someone plus you liked things the way they were up until said night. New Years Eve Party to be exact. You and Coco had a party at the Apartment and most of your friends were wasted at 1am already and Sammy and You also had quite a bit to drink, one thing led to another and you only remember waking up next to him in your bed, all cuddled up together with and hunch of what could have happened. Luckily you two were up before everyone else thinking nobody noticed but of course Coco knew the second she looked at you once she woke up. Sammy had to leave quickly that day because of some issues with brother, who wanted to visit him on New Year’s. Ever since than you two tried to keep it casual by not addressing it at all and kind of ignoring each other and your feelings for one another a bit. Until now apparently.

You sighed falling back into your cozy bed once Coco left your room.

~Time skip~

You pushed the thoughts of the night ahead to the side -mostly for Coco since she was worried that you were actually mad at her.

To proof her wrong you put on a smile and you two started to get ready together while blasting music and starting to pre drink a bit. It felt so good though to finally have the time to go out with some friends again after all that studying and stress with exams, just getting ready with your roommate was already so much fun.

Soon your uber came and you were on your way to the club where Coco told the others to meet you. You saw Sammy already when from the car, and your heart stopped a beat. He was just leaning against the wall, headphones in and on his phone. You took a second to admire him before the car came to a spot where you guys could get out. Coco saw him as well form where you two were and tried to scare him since he wasn’t aware of his surroundings, but she failed.

You greeted Sammy with a warm hug, thinking that he would probably feel your fast heartbeat but you always hugged him to say hello and you didn’t want to make things more weird. To your surprise you could feel his heartbeat as well, which weirdly calmed you down a bit.

You too still kept a bit of a distance for now just making things seem “casual”, clearly aware of the tension between the two of you. You got a table at your favorite club and soon drinks started to flow. Your group had an awesome time dancing, drinking, catching up and just enjoying your freedom for now

The DJ was great and constantly playing what you wanted, a couple hours went by and your friend group started to get smaller, one after the other leaving with someone they flirted with for about half an hour. Oh and Coco was all tangled up with Hajoon just as you both expected. You didn’t care about all of that too much just enjoying yourself on the dance floor and chatting a bit with Sammy while still continuously ordering drinks.

Of course some dudes tried to hit on you especially while you were dancing, overflowing with confidence but you just told them to get lost, you were really not interested in any of them. You were really just here to have fun but as you caught a glimpse of the way Sammy was watching your every move you smiled a bit to yourself.

You both were a bit buzzed by now, it being around 1:30am and most of your friends, well actually all of them already gone. The club was still buzzing and you were in no way ready to leave yet, neither was Sammy. It may seem a bit boring to just stand at a table watching a girl dance for hours, only taking breaks to pee or take another shot, not for him tho. Watching your body float over that dancefloor, never missing a single beat, smiling with closed eyes. And every time you were sick of a song you made your way over to him smiling with sparkling eyes in which he could get lost in forever. Every time you would come over you two had a shot or two and every time you went back on the dancefloor you tried to convince him to come with you. He came with once or twice, wanting to stay there with you the whole night just being weightless together but he knew that if he kept dancing with you and already being a bit drunk, he would want more and he wasn’t sure if you were okay with that so he stayed at the table.

At around 3am your feet started to hurt from all the dancing in your heels and you were feeling pretty dizzy, still not wanting to stop dirinking. Sammy knew by the way you came back to him that you were ready to leave and get some food somewhere.

“Sammy…! Wanna grab a bite somewhere?!” you shouted in his ear hoping he would understand with all the loud music and people talking.

To be completely honest he didn’t understand anything over the loud music and his own spinning head but he knew what you wanted so he just nodded and you two left. Once you stepped out of the club you both took a deep breath an looked at each other for a second. In this moment the only thing you wanted to do was kiss him, get lost in his touch and never wake up from it again but instead you just smiled at him and repeatedly said that you were hungry.

Sammy was in the same position, he knew that soon he would not be able to contain himself if you keep looking at him with those intense eyes of yours. He laughed at you being a whiny baby and took your hand to lead you to your guys’ favorite 4am drunk-food place. You both knew that he initially just wanted to yank you a bit in the direction you had to go yet you kept walking hands interlocked up until you got to the food place. It just felt so natural that none of you wanted to let go, so you kept it that way for a few moments longer.

You two kept chatting a bit while enjoying your food. For the few other people in the restaurant you two just looked like a regular couple acting all cute together, feeding each other and giggling while still ordering a few drinks. The owner of the restaurant actually thought you two were so cute that she gave you another soju-bottle for free, “For the lovebirds” she said as she put a the bottle down and winked at you.

You looked at each other with big eyes and you started to giggle since you were still pretty drunk. You took the soju with you and left the restaurant after paying. You were not ready to leave one another yet but you remember that Sammy had that great view from his apartment rooftop so you went there, on the way your hands found each other again and you just walked in silence, enjoying each other’s company.

You set up everything and settled down on the roof with your soju and a blanket just starring into nothing. Soon the two of you were cuddled up listening to each other’s breath.

You sighed “I missed this, you know?”

“Missed what?” he tried playing dumb

“This.. you… us..” you mumbled into his chest trying to hide your blushing

“Me too” he said while running his hands through your hair.

You lifted your head to look at him in the dim light just taking in his features bit by bit. He just smiled at you, slowly closing his eyes, like a cat would do. Carefully you sat up a bit and firmly pressed your lips on his. He smiled into the kiss. It was a very sweet delicate kiss, maybe even innocent, savoring every little moment of a innocent yet so powerful love. You two dragged the kiss as long as your lungs would allow it, after that you quickly nuzzled your head into his warm chest again.

“We should head inside it’s really getting cold and I don’t want you to get sick…” he softly whispered

You nodded and you packed your things to move into the apartment. It was so much warmer and just as cozy as you remembered it. You let out a yawn, stretching your body, Sammy saw his chance and wrapped his arms around you from behind burring his head in your neck. “Tired?” he asked softly.

“yeah… a bit…”

“then let’s go to bed then, shall we?” he asked while already heading towards the bedroom. He gave you his favorite shirt and shorts to sleep in, knowing you would have asked for them sooner or later, also he loved the way they looked on you. You excused yourself to the bathroom to change.

Once you locked the door behind you, you started to freak out silently a bit but on the other hand, everything just felt so right, Your bodies and minds just fit perfectly together and you were kind of mad at yourself for wanting to cut this awesome connection after it got a bit more serious. You washed you face, changed into the clothes he gave you and took a deep breath before heading back to the bedroom.

Sammy was already all cuddled up and his room looked even more comfortable with the delicate fairy-lights you gifted him last Christmas. You crawled next to him getting comfortable. He gave you another soft kiss, but you wanted more. You started to intensify it to which he gave in, you were hungry for him the whole night already so you were more than eager letting your hand slowly travel over his body an to the hem of his boxers but suddenly he grabbed your hand. A bit perplex you broke the kiss and looked at him confused.

“did... did I do something wrong?” you asked quietly “Do you not want to?”

“you didn’t do anything wrong y/n…” he gave you a peck “It’s just, the last time we did it too quickly and lost each other for a few months… And I don’t want to lose you… this... us again... is… is it okay if we just fall asleep in each other’s arms for now?”

You started to tear up a bit at his words, this was the first time he actually told you how he really felt -probably a bit because of the alcohol too but you didn’t mind that- and it made you realize how you felt as well, so you nodded stealing one last kiss before cuddling up with him and slowly drifting of to sleep while listening to his heartbeat.

~To be continued~

[moostaronce]

You’re My Ideal Type

Request: I’m bad at thinking or suggesting scenarios but I really want a fluffy scenario of loona Jinsoul x fem reader if u r ok with it,thanks🥺💙

Pairing: Jinsoul x Fem Reader

A/N: Never a problem, I’ve got you. I hope you like it. Feel free to request more even if you don’t have specifics, it lets me try to be more creative. 

P.S I feel like it was a little rushed since I changed my mind the day of upload but I hope you like it because I’m satisfied with the concept as a whole. Also, if you can guess what song inspired this I’ll give you a virtual cookie. 💛

“Hurry up Sol unnie or we’ll be late for practice.” Jungeun called out to her friend.

The two girls along with 4 of their other teammates were going to be late to their volleyball game if they didn’t hurry. They had been caught up talking and walking like turtles when Jungeun noticed the time on her phone. So now here they were running down the hall to their locker room. As soon as they enter, they are met by their coach angrily tapping her foot and their captain Sooyoung shaking her head while pinching the bridge of her nose. They didn’t need words to know they were in trouble. Before they knew it their worst fear came to be reality.

“Jinsol and Jungeun, you’re out for the whole match.” Jinsol’s jaw drops and Jungeun practically chokes on air. 

“But coach we’re supposed to start tonight!” Jungeun cried out almost in anguish.

“You should’ve thought of that before you showed up late so now the other six that showed up on time will be starting.” Coach left no room for argument or discussion and just walked away. Sooyoung followed behind her, having nothing more to add herself. 

The girls get changed in silence and make their way out to stand on the sidelines. The game begins and things go without a hitch. That is until someone comes off of the other team’s sidelines that Jinsol has never seen before. From the sound of the opposing crowd this girl sounded like bad news for her team for sure. She leans forward to get a good look at the girl’s face and actually gasps when she succeeds. 

“Wow. Who is that?” Jinsol doesn’t mean to say it out loud but her teammate Yeojin heard her loud and clear. Yeojin was probably too small to even be on this team but she had hops and strong arms so the coach kept her around. 

“Oh that’s Y/N she’s a transfer and apparently she’s become their secret weapon since she showed up. Why?” Yeojin leaned over to the older girl in curiosity.

Jinsol didn’t respond right away. The moment she looked at you she recognized it. You were exactly her ideal type. Her eyes fixed on you and they wouldn’t look any where else. She could’ve been in mortal danger but missing the chance of catching your eye was something she refused to do. The hope that you would look her way just for a moment was intense and as if it was by design, you did. Your eyes scanned the gym like you were looking for something, and in the back of your mind maybe you were. The search comes to an end when you spot her. 

The two of you are standing pretty far away but the space between you began to feel unusual. A bizarre kind of feel that can’t quite be named, stirring up electricity between you. Jinsol watches as your lips part and you remember to take a breath before your teammates nudge you to focus. At this moment Jinsol has decided, she needs to talk to you or even just to be in your immediate vicinity. Her eyes didn’t leave you the whole match, even when coach finally had mercy and put her and Jungeun on the court. The match ended with your team winning by a hair and all Jinsol could think about was getting to you before you got on your bus to leave.

“I have to have her.” She muttered it under her breath and Jungeun looked over at her in confusion. The blonde followed the brunette’s eyes until her own landed on you packing up your stuff to leave.

“Who? Number 25?” Jungeun squints at the number on your back but she’s so loud when she asks that you look up and around.

When you look over to the other side of the court you see Jinsol and can’t help the small grin that takes over. You planned to approach her but she comes to you first with a rare kind of confidence you aren’t used to seeing first hand.

“Hi, I’m Jung Jinsol.” Her smile is nervous but bright and it draws you in.

“Y/N, Y/N L/N. It’s nice to meet you Jinsol, that was an impressive match. If you had been in a little longer I think you could’ve killed us.” She smiles sweetly at you and goes against her better judgment. Jinsol touches your arm in as flirty a manner as she can, lingering on the touch to make it clear she was indeed flirting.

“Thanks but with your skills there is no way I could’ve come out on top.” 

You glance down to her fingers, daintily tracing your bicep then back up to her ridiculously pretty face. You can’t deny how attracted you are to her and she’s clearly throwing you signals so you decide to ask for her number. Jinsol beats you to it though, she grabs your coach’s sharpie off a discarded clipboard and writes her number on your bare forearm.

“You better call me. I really want to see you again Y/N.”

The look in her eyes shows nothing but hope and sincerity, so you give her your best smile and a kiss on her hand before taking your leave. Neither of you are usually the type to be so forward but there was just something about your chemistry that felt different. Something about each other that made you both a little weak just by meeting the other’s eyes. Jinsol heads  to the locker room with a newfound bounce in her step, nothing could possibly ruin her day now. She just hopes you’ll at least text her.

——————-

The next day during lunch period Jinsol is sat with her 11 teammates as usual but she picks over her pizza instead of scarfing it down as usual. At first no one really notices or pays any mind, until she feels someone rubbing comforting circles on her back. When she looks over it’s Kahei giving her a concerned look.

“Are you okay Sol?” At their oldest’s concerned voice, the other members look over to see if everything is okay. Jinsol just shrugs in response. Technically everything is okay but she can’t help feeling disappointed that you haven’t tried contacting her. Jungeun catches on rather quickly and gives her a questioning look.

“25 didn’t text you, huh?” Jungeun patted the older girl on the head after she practically does a faceplant on the table. The others look at each other in confusion.

“25? Who’s 25?” Hyunjin leans on the table with interest.

“Oh! You must be thinking of Y/N unnie. She’s the new member for the team we played last night, Southside.” Yeojin speaks nonchalantly and everyone looks over at her with curiosity, including Jinsol.

“Unnie? You know her Yeojinie?” Heejin speaks up with the question they all wanted to ask.

“Oh yeah, she’s a family friend. Our moms are best friends, so she comes over to my house sometimes. She’s basically my big sister.”

“Oh so I’ve been replaced, huh?” Haseul speaks up in mock offense

“You said your only sibling was a boy so yes, Y/N unnie would never disown me like that.” Yeojin crosses her arms and turns her nose up at Haseul while Jinsol burns a whole in the side of her head with her gaze.

“Yeojin,” the younger girl looks to her nervous from her tone.

“Hook. Us. Up.” She doesn’t break eye contact even when the rest of the table starts smirking at her.

“Oooh Jinsol likes Y/N.” Yerim’s tone is teasing but Jinsol really pays her no mind. All she’s seeing right now is Yeojin and a direct doorway to you.

“But didn’t you already give her your number?” Jungeun chimes in and gets a nod in response.

“I wrote it on her arm.” Jinsol confirms it but becomes nervous at Yeojin’s shake of the head.

“You should’ve put it in her phone. She probably went home and showered it off without thinking about it, so she couldn’t reach you even if she wanted to. Here let me give you her numb- oh.” Yeojin pauses looking at her phone when she sees a text in all caps from you.

Unnie<3: JINNIE DO YOU KNOW A JINSOL ON YOUR TEAM?

YeoYeo: Actually I’m with her right now.

Unnie<3: NUMBER

Unnie<3: NOW

“I think I was right about her losing your number Sol unnie. Here I’ll send you her number and send her your number too. Save it as soon as you get it, okay?” Yeojin speaks while typing away at her phone screen.

Jinsol sits upright waiting for her phone to register Yeojin’s text with a new kind of energy. Not long after she finishes naming you in her phone, does she get a text from you. She looks up at Yeojin and thanks her until the younger girl gets tired of hearing it.

The two of you talk all day through text even transitioning to phone calls over the next few days. Without even realizing Jinsol finds herself wanting to to know every thing about you. What you’re doing, how you’re feeling. The two of you have even set up little training dates together and practice. One by one, little by little, day by day her feelings grow for you more and more until she decides she’s waited long enough.

You are on a walk holding her hand when Jinsol stops you in your tracks. She gets nervous under your curious gaze but she convinces herself that it’s now or never. The warm smile you give her only further assures her that this was the right move. You had to feel the same, right? Would you really be here with her smiling at her like this, looking at her like this, holding her hand like this if you weren’t the least bit interested? Surely not.

“What’s on your mind Sol?”

“Just…Y/N would you like to go out with me? Like actually date me?” She’s worried by the dumbstruck look on your face and the way you awkwardly release her hand to rub the back of your neck. Then you open your mouth and her jaw drops.

“Oh I um… I kind of thought we were dating already?” The sheepish look on you made her want to coo at you but she was lost for words.

“I mean I guess I should have said so but I mean think about it Jinsol. All my free time is yours, I practically hang off of your every word like I’m out of my mind. Any where you go I wanna follow and I pretty much do, I figured it was pretty clear that I thought we were in a relationship.” 

You can’t seem to make eye contact with her and Jinsol can’t believe you get cuter by the minute. She tries to meet your eyes but you keep looking the other way. Her hands reach up to hold your face affectionately and make you look at her her. Now is when you both start to realize just how close she’s gotten and this close you can really see just how pretty her brown eyes are. Jinsol smiles at you sweetly and gives you a small peck on your lips, shocking you stiff.

“From now it’s day one, okay?” Her smile infectious and you return it tenfold.

“Okay.” 

[diegos-butt]

Electricity chapter 4

Summary: For the first time in her life, Melody Williams is moving out of her hometown to Minnesota where she got a job as a crime journalist for the Minnesota Daily. But this city does not only have a new job for her to offer. What will happen when she crosses paths with detective Walter Marshall? Heads up, a little electricity is involved ✨

Walter Marshall x Melody Williams (Curvy OFC)

Warnings: mention of murder, a bit of fighting

Wordcount: 3.9k

A/N: don’t do anything reckless y’all. Let me know what you think of this chapter. 😘

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3

•••

Somehow the universe was on my side for once. Once I got home, I noticed I had a new text message. I was surprised to see that it was from Walter. He asked if I got home safe. What a gentleman.

I figured he just wanted to make sure I got home safe, I didn’t think too much of it. If anything, I didn’t think we would end up texting each other for three days in a row. Did I wish that would happen? Yes. Did I actually believe it could happen? Definitely no. I wasn’t the only one who couldn’t believe it.

“Have you been texting with him again last night?” Gia asked when she saw me yawn and stretch my arms out above me. We were having a slow morning at work, and this was the third time she showed up at my desk.

“Maybe,” I smirked. Even though it started a little awkward, we were still texting. After I had texted him back that I got home safe, and he send a thumbs up emoji, it was silent for a moment. I had thought about what I could possibly text him next. I grabbed my phone to compose a text when a new message already popped up.

Walter: Still sure you want to live here?

A smile had formed on my face. He thinks he is funny huh. I was wondering what I could text back, and I thought to myself: what would I tell my friends to text back in a situation like this? Normally, I would never listen to my own flirting advice, but at that moment, I did.

Melody: Might stick around. Heard the detectives in town are quite something.

Since then, we had been texting constantly. Alright, maybe not constantly, we were both busy during the day, but we spend a good amount of the late evening texting. We got to know each other a little better. I told him about my family, and I shared a few awkward stories. For example, I told him about the time I was too stubborn to put on sunscreen during the summer, and I got sunburned to bad, I would never forget to apply it ever again. I still apply it every day, even in the winter.

In return he told me all about the shenanigans he pulled as a kid, and that he had a kid himself, Faye. At first, I was a little bit surprised, but then I figured we would have a babysitter once we would get children. Mel, get it together. You are not even dating him, you don’t even know if he likes you and you are already thinking about having children with him?! Our kids would look damn cute though..

“Earth to Mel! Stop daydreaming for once, and get some work done.” Carmen laughed and threw a pen at me, which I skilfully dodged, but it did wake me up from my little daydream.

“There is nothing to do! No development in the murder case and that’s all I am covering right now,” I said and spun around in my chair. “I am so bored right now, I don’t even know what to do.”

“Text your man, see if he has any new information?” Gia suggested.

“Hmm, he avoided talking about the case. Maybe they are having trouble getting a match with the murderer on that dating app.” I had told them about what happened the other day at the police station. I might have a hearing problem now because they had screamed so loud, I’m convinced the entire building heard them. It’s safe to say, they were very excited and convinced he liked me.

“Besides, he’s not my man!” I said while throwing the pen I picked up back at Carmen. “I mean, I wish, but he is so out of my league.”

“No one is out of your league, and I swear he’s into you. I saw the way he looked at you at the bar and at the crime scene. I have an eye for these things, trust me,” Carmen said and dodged the pen as well.

“Whatever,” I sighed. I spun around in my chair a few more times before an idea popped up in my head. “Guys, what if we set up an account on that dating app?”

“And then what? Meet with a creep? No thank you,” Gia said with a disgusting look on her face.

“I’m not a fan of that plan either. Please don’t do something like that Mel. Don’t do anything stupid. That could be very dangerous, and you know it,” Carmen agreed.

“It’s not like I’m actually going to meet him. I just want to see if I can figure out what profile he is using this time.” I stood up and looked out of the window. I oversaw the city, the sky was grey, and it was slightly raining. “Alright, fine. Can one of you give me something to do in that case? Otherwise I will make a dating profile.”

Later that day I laid in bed, trying to sleep. It was 1am and I had been trying to sleep for two hours, but I was still wide awake. I felt restless and didn’t know what I could do to fall asleep. I had tried to drink some tea, didn’t help. I watched an episode of The Office, didn’t help either. It also didn’t help Walter hadn’t texted me back for hours now. I wondered if he was already getting tired of me.

You know, I could, maybe, possible, just make an account on that dating app and swipe for a while. Maybe I would come across someone that matches the profile that the murderer would use. Gia and Carmen will probably kill me though.

I grabbed my phone. I hesitated for a second, but I downloaded the dating app. After I made an account and uploaded some cute selfies, I finally got to do some swiping. The most guys that came up were pretty basic. They didn’t spike my interest at all. They were the typical white boy, all with the same haircut and they looked like they did not only skip legday, also arm- and chestday. Half of them also posed proudly with a fish they had caught. As if that’s something girls like. Too bad none of these men look a little like Walter.

I also came across a few good looking, decent guys. I knew that was not what the police were looking for, so I swiped them to the left. The next profile was of a guy who was way too good looking. He also only had one picture. It was obviously that this picture was stolen from a model. The bio creeped me out a little. He said he liked to hike in nature, and he enjoyed the silence. You enjoy the silence? Are you trying to creep me out on purpose or what? I swiped him to the right. It was weird but I felt like this could be the one the police were looking for.

I swiped for a little while longer. Swiping a few sketchy looking profiles to the right until I felt my eyelids drop. Yawning, I put my phone aside and finally fell asleep.

The next morning my alarm woke me up. I stretched out after I turned the alarm off and grabbed my phone. There were a few messages, one of them was from Walter, but what spiked my interest was that I had a few matches on the dating app. I wanted to check it out, but I noticed I had to get out of bed and take a shower if I wanted to be at work on time.

After I had showered and got dressed, I grabbed my phone. The first message I opened was from Walter. He had texted me at 3am.

Walter: We were working late today, no breakthrough in the case. Missed texting with you, can I make it up by calling you tonight?

My heart skipped a few beats. He wanted to call? With me?! I stared at the message for a few seconds while I felt some butterflies flying around in my stomach. Okay, no need to freak out. He just wants to call, he is not proposing. Yet….

Melody: I missed texting with you too. And of course, you can call me tonight. I look forward to it.

Before I could overanalyse my response, I hit send. Take a deep breath Mel. No need to read into this too much. I checked my other messages and texted my mom and Gia back. My mom wanted to know how I was doing, and Gia needed an approval of her outfit of the day.

I walked to the kitchen and grabbed some milk and cereal. While I was eating my breakfast, I noticed the notifications from the dating app. There were a few new matches, and one of them had send a message. It was from the guy with the creepy profile. His name was John. Millions of people are named John, you could’ve at least been a bit more creative while choosing a name.

John: What do you say good looking? Let’s skip the talking stage and just meet up?

I shivered at the thought of meeting up with this guy, but he could be the one they’re looking for, right? I decided to just go to work and deal with it later.

The workday was slow and boring. I finished a few articles but spend most of my time gossiping with Gia about our favourite celebrities which annoyed Carmen at first, because she wanted to get some work done, but eventually she joined us. I also told them about Walter’s text from that morning. If I weren’t sure I already had a hearing problem from their screams before, I sure as hell would have one now. Those girls made sounds so high, I’m surprised the windows didn’t crack.

The rest day went by slow, and before I knew it the clock showed me it was 3pm. I had decided to not tell Gia and Carmen about the fact I downloaded the dating app and was considering meeting with ‘John’. I mean, I would inform Walter about it. I wasn’t a complete idiot. No need to stress those girls out. Why would I?

My phone buzzed and I picked it up. Another message from ‘John’.

John: What’s it going to be beautiful?

I thought about it, and what could go wrong? I would inform the police, aka Walter. Besides that, I can put up a fight. It’s not like I am a damsel in distress. Plus, the upside of being a little bigger; I’m harder to kidnap, you got to be pretty strong to even lift me up. I shrugged my shoulders and texted him back.

Melody: Sure.

Short, but clear. I looked around the office, Gia and Carmen both sat at their desks typing on their computers. They had no idea what I was doing. They would probably kill me, right here right now. Before I could change my mind about not telling them, my phone buzzed again.

John: Tonight, 7pm? A new bar just opened up, we could get a drink there.

The rest of the message contained the address of the place. I googled it before I answered. The website of the place popped up, and as I suspected, it was clearly a fake website. Bingo. I texted him back, saying I agreed with his plan.

The rest of the hours I had to spend at the office went by surprisingly quick. Soon people were starting to leave, and so were Gia, Carmen and me. We parted ways in the entrance hall, and I drove home. Once I was home, I looked in the fridge, and I came to the conclusion I had forgotten to do groceries. Again.

I wasn’t in the mood to order take out, so I quickly drove to the supermarket. Unfortunately, unlike last time, I didn’t ran into Walter. Shit, I still have to text him about my meeting with ‘John’. I’ll do it once I get back home.

I drove back home and started making dinner. After I ate dinner, and did the dishes, I looked at the clock. It was already 6.30pm and I had to leave soon. Glaring down at my outfit, I decided I wanted to wear something more comfortable. I went to my bedroom and stood in front of my closet. I grabbed an old pair of jeans and a simple long-sleeved black tee. No way I’m going to dress pretty for this guy. Wait, what if he actually is the guy from the picture? Nah, not gonna happen. Shit, I still need to text Walter.

I needed to hurry up and put the tee on. While putting on the jeans, I suddenly heard a sound I didn’t like to hear. I look down and saw the jeans have ripped in the area between my thighs. Thick thighs save lives? They sure as hell don’t save jeans. I thought while throwing them across the room. Quickly I grabbed another, old, pair of jeans and put it on. I put my shoes on and fixed my hair.

I ran into the living room again and grabbed my jacket. With my car keys and phone in one hand, I locked the door behind me with the other one and made my way to my car. 6.45pm, right on time. I started the car and drove off.

While I stood in front of a red light, I remembered I hadn’t texted Walter. Shit. Contemplating what to do, I decided to call him. He didn’t answer. Shit. I left a voicemail instead. The red light turned green and I continued driving. Once I had to stop in front of another red light, I decided to text him as well. I noticed how the streets around me became emptier and emptier.

The street where I was supposed to meet ‘John’ was dark and pretty empty. The sun was settling down, making it even darker. I parked my car at a parking lot and checked my phone. No response from Walter. Not yet at least. I was alone in the parking lot and decided to wait for a few minutes.

Alright, maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. Maybe this was pretty dumb. And why did I forgot to text Walter. Why couldn’t I have done that sooner?! You know what, I’m just gonna go. This was dumb. And reckless.

But before I could start my car, someone opened my door. A man stood there, he was tall but not very muscular and he did not look like the profile picture at all. He looked at me with a creepy grin that made me regret doing this.

“Hello there, nice to meet you. I’m John and you must be Melody. Why don’t you step out of the car?” he said. I didn’t knew what to say, so I nodded and wanted to step out, but he spoke again. “Why don’t you leave that phone of yours here, we don’t need it do we?”

I knew I had to play by his rules. So, I left my phone and stepped out. He took the keys out of my hands and locked my car. I tried to keep thinking straight. Walter should be here soon, right?

John kept talking to me in the meanwhile. He kept telling me how pretty I was and how glad he was to meet with me. I stopped listening when I heard my phone go off in the car. Walter. If that is not him but my mom, I will do something to her.

“Come on, let’s get away from that car, shall we? The bar is right around the corner,” he spoke. We were the only people in the parking lot. I noticed he had parked his car a few feet away from me. Something was definitely not right.

“You know, I’m actually good here. Could you give me my car keys back though?” I asked. I knew he wouldn’t, but I had to stall. I really hoped the police would show up anytime now.

“Ah please? Just one drink?” He took a step closer to me and grabbed my wrist. I quickly twisted my wrist, releasing it from his grip. He looked at me with an unpleased look, and I suddenly felt a presence behind me. Never sneak up on me you dumbass. I thought as I felt the presence got closer.

Once I felt someone was right behind me, I didn’t waste another second. I took a step to the right and shoved my elbow straight into the guy’s nose with full force. He grunted in pain and when I looked behind me, I saw he grabbed his bloody nose with both his hands.

“Creepy Greg from finance?!” I say surprised. “Could have seen that one coming.”

“You bitch!” the guy in front of me yelled. He raised his fist and threw it at my face. Well, he attempted it. I dodged it and slammed my fist into his face instead.

“Sorry, that might leave a mark,” I smiled.

Creepy Greg from finance was still standing behind me, crying, and telling me I broke his nose and that I would pay for it. Make me.

I looked back at the other guy, and he swung his arms at me again, trying to hit me. I ducked to the side a few times, avoiding being hit. Sadly, I couldn’t escape all his attempts to hit me. His fist met the left side of my face. I felt my blood boiling from anger. I took a deep breath and raised my fists. While I was about to throw a punch, I heard loud noises. Cars. Thank God, they’re here.

Before I could comprehend what was going on, policemen were already running towards us. One tackled creepy Greg and a familiar figure tackled the other guy and threw a hard punch in his face. This is not supposed to turn me on. At all.

Walter got up and handed the guy over to another cop. The guy looked at me in disgust, but I didn’t see it. My eyes were focussed on Walter. He closed the gap between us by taking two passes.

“First of all, that was insanely stupid and dangerous and very dumb. This was reckless behaviour! But we will discuss this later,” he said vigorously.

“Yeah, I figured,” I said. I opened my mouth to continue speaking, but he spoke first.

“Are you alright? Are you hurt?” he said with a concerned look in his blue eyes, and his hand caressed the cheek that had been hit. As his rough, calloused fingers touched my skin I felt a spark of electricity going down my spine. His other hand found its way to my waist, and he pulled me a little closer to him. His body radiated a welcoming warmth, and I smelled his familiar musky cologne.

“I’m fine, just got hit once. You should see creepy Greg’s nose,” I snickered.

“I did, and you sure know how to throw a punch,” he smiled. “I’m glad you’re okay. And I’m glad you called and texted me. I’m sorry I missed the call. If I hadn’t missed it none of this would have happened.”

“No, don’t be sorry. This was a pretty stupid, reckless plan and I should have called sooner,” I quickly answered.

“It was indeed reckless and stupid,” he sighed. “Look, we need to take your statement. Why don’t I take you home after?”

“I’d like that, but my car is here,” I said while pointing at it. His hand left my cheek, but his other hand remained on my waist. He was so close to me, and I felt so comfortable despite what happened a few minutes prior.

“We’ll take care of that, don’t worry.” He grabbed my hand, interlaced his fingers with mine and guided me to one of his colleagues. My heart was racing and skipped a few beats at the same time. His hand felt warm and comforting. I never wanted to let go.

We reached his colleague and he started asking me questions and he squeezed my hand before letting go. He walked away to speak to some of his other colleagues and I immediately missed his hand, it felt like mine had fitted perfectly in his.

I told his colleague what happened, and I could see he thought it was really reckless, but I also saw in his eyes he was kind of impressed. He complimented me on how I stayed calm, but he did tell me to never do anything like this again.

Once he dismissed me, I looked around for Walter. I noticed him already walking towards me, and he offered me a little smile.

“So, Liam is going to take your car down to the station and I will drive you home, alright?”

“Thank you,” I smiled at him. “Can I get something from my car? My phone and keys are still in there.”

After we got my stuff out of the car, he pointed at a big truck. We walked towards it in silence, and he placed his hand on my lower back. Oh god, please keep that hand there forever. Okay, I might be incredibly touch starved.

Unfortunately, we reached the car too soon and his hand left my back to open the door for me. I climbed in and he closed it. He walked around the truck, took place behind the drivers’ wheel, and started the car. While he drove into the street he asked for my address.

We sat in silence next to each other, the radio softly hummed a rock song. I looked out of the window, it was dark and suddenly I realized that what I had done tonight, could have ended badly. Really badly.

“Hey, are you okay?” Walter put his hand on my thigh but when I looked at him, his hand shot up to my cheek to wipe a falling tear away.

“Yeah, yeah. Just realizing that this maybe wasn’t a smart thing to do,” I offered him a small smile. His hand left my cheek and found its way back to my thigh. The warmth coming from it spread throughout my entire body and I didn’t think twice and placed my hand on top of his. He turned his hand around and interlaced his fingers with mine for the second time that night.

He smiled at me and focussed on the road again. We were near my home, but I did not want to be alone now. Heck, I wanted to be near him. I didn’t want him to go. It felt so good to just be around him. I have never felt so comfortable around someone so quickly.

He parked the truck in front of my apartment building, not letting go of my hand.

“So, we’re here,” I mumbled. He grunted in response. We sat in the truck in silence for a few more minutes until it started to rain. I knew it was now or never, he was not going to offer going inside with me. Not after what happened. Perhaps he thought I wanted to be alone.

I felt anxious, but I decided to just ask it.

“Could you stay with me for a while?” I avoided looking at him, but he squeezed my hand and his other hand gently grabbed my chin, making me look into his eyes.

“Sure thing doll.”

•••

> chapter five

Taglist: @keanureevesisbae / @klaine-92 / @xxxkatxo / @stxlemate / @oddsnendsfanfics / @amberangel112 / @seriouslygoodlookinggents / @sillyrabbit81 / @pixie88 / @cynic-spirit / @rn7rocks / @daddys-littlewhitegirl / @little-brattyangel / @omgkatinka / @myloveforhenrycavill / @eldarwen333 / @kebabgirl67

If you want to be on the taglist, let me know ✨

[tsumucore]

Playing ACNH hcs ♡‧₊˚

here’s some hcs of Atsumu, Kuroo, Suna, and Akaashi playing animal crossing bc it’s been on my mind :3

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ

Atsumu

Gave into the hype just so he could say yeah I game 🙄😴 (he only has a switch bc the rest of inarizaki play smash)

Named his island “island”

He literally chose the most inconvenient layout when he started. His resident services is right smack in front of his airport so there’s like barely a sliver of walking space AND it’s slightly to the left so it ain’t even centered 💔

When the rest of inarizaki comes over to visit, he ends up getting slaughtered for his lack of “appealing scenery” and influx of weeds 😭 Osamu, Suna, and Aran are leading the revolution

Do NOT invite this mf over to your island he will trample all over your flowers, INCLUDING the hybrids. Isn’t even aware of the damage he’s caused until you’re chasing him with an axe and gifting him trash every day for the next two weeks

Gets on his knees and begs you for spare 30 iron nuggets 🤲🏼🥺

Listen he knows all villagers are created equal✨ and whatnot but he still screams every time he sees an ugly villager arrive at his campsite. He saw Limberg once, said No ❤️ and immediately closed out of the game

Whenever a villager he hates moves in, he spends a half hour straight hitting them with his net bc he thinks thats gonna get them to move out lmfao

Tries out all the tricks for getting a good island when he’s going villager hunting like clapping for Orville, showing up in dodo merch, etc

“Uhhh, you know it’s completely randomized right..? None of them actually work.” “Shut yer trap 🥰″

Man... he really sets his villagers’ nicknames for him as “daddy”

“What if you let me clap your cheeks in front of tom nook” “Upgrade your resident services first then we’ll talk, musty ❤️″

Kuroo

Denies, denies, denies that he plays the game he’s always like “nah, that’s for kids”

But literally everyone gets the notification that he’s playing all the time bc he doesn’t realize his online status is visible to everyone LMFAO

When you expose him, he just claims that Kenma forced him to try it out like ok Mr. 220+ hours 🙄

Horror themed island!!! He gets real creative with it - everything’s strategically placed and he’s got all sorts of rare and hacked items to work with, courtesy of Kenma’s activities on the black market. He has a lot of references to Japanese folklore sprinkled throughout his island

Naturally, Lucky’s his favorite villager; also has a soft spot for Kiki

NAH DON’T INVITE HIM TO YOUR ISLAND .. its so sad he’ll be looking around like “aww, it’s cute” JDSKHKDSHJ the humiliation

But he actually loves spending time on yours bc its such a change from his usual Eeerie one

Loves doing tarantula/scorpion islands - he’s got the patience n willpower to travel to a random island and turn it into a goldmine for scorpions

U guys will help each other out by tag teaming a gigas giant clam together and it turns into one big screaming match lmao

“It’s right by you!” “Ok, on the count of 3, I’ll lead it that way to corner it and you swoop in for the catch”

Yaku once commented on how his museum’s kinda empty and he let it get to him. He’s obsessed with digging up every fossil and catching every minuscule bug to make sure his collection’s complete like bro!!! It’s fine!!! Your island’s still better than mine!!!

Suna

Mf was able to snag the animal crossing edition of the switch before they all sold out

I feel like his island would be one of those cyberpunk tokyoesque ones. You: yeah my boyfriend’s a professional landscaper 🥰

The secret: he gets zooted when he’s terraforming at 3am

Really comes over to collect his diy from Celeste, laughs at your island, and dips

ALWAYS dripped out. U will NOT catch him slipping

Never has his net in his hand when he shakes trees bc he wants to be Daring

Blocked Atsumu for stealing his flowers when he wasn’t looking

The type to mass buy nook mile tickets on ebay and go on villager hunting sprees for his dreamies. You’ve often witnessed him on the brink of madness at 4am as he comes across Hippeux for the 11th time

Joins discord servers and participates in cataloging parties. He’s got the best items and color combos for everything. Also an avid user of nookazon

You: just a smidget of bells plth 🥺🥺🤲🏼🤲🏼

He pays off your debts for you 💅🏼

Makes you continuously press A to collect shooting stars for him when he goes to the bathroom. 

You: I’m tired I don’t wanna do this anymore

Him: That’s nice ❤️

He lets you take some star fragments in the morning tho for compensation

Hates talking to his villagers tbh bc its the same dialogue over and over again so he only interacts with them when he wants to give them fits

Gifts raymond the maid dress

He likes to lay on you and nuzzle into you as best he can when you’re both playing. You’ll both just lay there in a comfortable silence, doing your own thing n it’s honestly so therapeutic

Akaashi

He’s got a european town inspired theme going on - the color palette throughout his island is immaculate

It’s infuriating how perfect his island is when he isn’t even a time traveler. It took you months WITH time traveling to achieve an island that you’re somewhat satisfied with and he’s sitting there like yeah I hit 5 stars after three weeks❤️

You: ok jobless❤️

His museum’s fire; every time he collects a species for the first time, he immediately takes it to blathers. His fossil collection is also like 99% complete. The only thing that bothers him is how dry his art gallery is, so you always have to text him when redd’s on your island

Really vibes with Wolfgang

Managed to actually get all his rocks in a circle to make a rock garden??

You: HOW

Him: I don’t kiss and tell

Stargazing dates!!!! He always lets you know when there’s a meteor shower on his island and has the cutest lil stargazing area just for you two to hang out at

Usually plays the game muted so when he’s fishing he actually watches for the bob??? instead of turning that shit up on full blast and listening for the blubblub???

He’s shameless abt how much he wants Raymond and has spent a ridiculous amount of tickets looking for him. “He’s a cat with glasses and different colored eyes!!!!!”

When you got Raymond to move in to your island, he kept trying to convince you to gift him to him. This sweet talking mf kept trying to shower you with kisses and cuddles to get you to say yes.

“I’m not putting him in boxes.” “Go off 🧚‍♂️😍🤩 that cliff over there 🧚‍♂️🧚‍♂️💕”

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ

masterlist ｡･:*:･ﾟrules

[koalatydm]

Hot Brown Morning Potion Podcast Episode 5 - The Deluxe Elf Interview with Devon Giehl and Iain Hendry

Transcription Part 1 of 2 (includes Wonderstorm questions and Kuno's questions)

[Transcriber's Notes: This took me SO LONG to transcribe, like multiple hours and I'm only halfway done... But I will make it through at least this one episode because I want fellow Moonfam enthusiasts to have a text source, not to mention make it easier for deaf/HoH people to follow along. I guess I'll tag @kuno-chan since she said it was OK at the beginning of the podcast, sorry if I'm bothering you!]

KUNO: Hi guys, so I have a personal request for this particular podcast episode if you guys could tweet, post, both at least one piece of information that you learned from this particular episode, that you love, that inspired you, that you thought was cute, whatever. Like, I really—one thing that really tends to happen is that people listen to the podcast and they kinda just go about their day. We don’t actually see the information circulate through the community, which we really try to have creative questions—questions that are fun and explore the characters in different situations. And it would just be really, really cool—it would mean a lot to me to see this actually circulate through the community, actually circulate through the fandom, and see, you know, it would be awesome to see it be inspired—to inspire fan works, fan fiction, fan art, especially fan art. I just—we talked like a solid hour at least—really like a solid hour about Runaan, Rayla, Ethari, that family, um, and Moonshadow elves a lot. We talked a lot about that. And I think this is information that a lot of people really wanted, even if it’s in largely headcanon form. But Devon and Iain were so gracious and we talked so much about that family, and including Ruthari, and of course some Rayllum in there. So if you guys could live tweet, or even just one tweet, at least one tweet. Tag us, tag me, tag Hailey, tag @HotPotion, even if you send it directly to me on Tumblr, that’d be awesome and we’d retweet, reblog all your stuff. It would be good for the podcast and I just really want to see this information circulate through the fandom, so at least one tweet. Alright, um, let’s get to the episode though. Thanks! Hope to see you guys on social media about this.

—————

KUNO: Alright, hey everyone, this is the Hot Brown Morning Potion Podcasts with your hosts Tamika and Hailey, and we are here with Devon Giehl and Iain Hendry, two writers on The Dragon Prince at Wonderstorm, and Devon being actually the recently announced lead writer at Wonderstorm, so say hi everyone!

DEVON: Hi!

IAIN: Hi, this is Iain…

DEVON: Hi, I’m Devon… (laughs)

KUNO: And so we have a ton of stuff to get through today, um, a lot of questions, so—but we’re going to ask Iain and Devon a little bit about themselves first, since I think—I’m not sure if this is the first interview they’ve really had, personally, so uh, Hailey do you want to start—head that?

HAILEY: Um, yeah, sure. Uh, could you tell us about your roles at Wonderstorm?

IAIN: Uh, sure, uh—I’m also a writer at—official title “Senior Writer” at Wonderstorm. I was one of the writing team on the show, not quite as early as Devon, who was basically employee 1 after the founders but um, I joined sort of, end of 2016 when season 1 writing was really starting to get rolling, and was you know part of the process all the way through all the seasons. Uh, and since this—it’s such a small start up company, all the writers take a bunch of other, like, production roles on the show. Like, throughout all three seasons we’ve done, like, continuity notes work, we’ve given feedback on like every step of the production process. And then the other kind of side things we have, like you know, very top secret game that we’re making in here. And like, kind of straddle the line between the show writing and the game so that that’s all kind of on point and feels like it’s in the same universe with the same characters as The Dragon Prince, but ah, can’t say too much about that just yet.

DEVON: Iain does a lot of—a lot of secret work (laughs). Um, yeah as for me, I’m also a writer on The Dragon Prince and my—I was a Senior Writer until very recently, and now I’ve been made into a Lead Writer, which means I just get to flex a lot. Um, but I started in, I think the very, very end of 2015 when Wonderstorm was first getting off the ground as like a tiny, tiny startup. And we were basically four people in a room about, I don’t know, like 20 ft by 10 ft. It was really, really awful—

IAIN: Really smelly.

DEVON: Really smelly, really tiny, like only a skylight for a window, it was great. And I—so I was involved in like the earliest of brainstorming for the show. I helped sort of like put together a lot of the pitch deck when we you know took it around to studios and like, I named like most of the characters—is like my most self-indulgent claim on the show cause I got to do a lot of really silly stuff. Um, but yeah, and then I like help out on a million other fronts at Wonderstorm too because we’re a small company and—yeah, the funny thing about the—the small tasks we have, like you mentioned continuity checks. Um, we often had to make sure that Callum’s backpack and book and Rayla’s bindings were always correct, and that was kind of, the funniest and most intense, like, stage of production ever. Cause you would, you know, watch one shot and then the next shot would come up and Callum’s backpack would have disappeared. So we had to be like, “OK, let’s give Callum backpack back on.”

IAIN: Yeah, and it’s not just for accuracy, but like, the way fandoms operate, like, we just knew if Rayla’s binding reappeared sometime, it wouldn’t be viewed as an error. People would be like “WHAT DID THE KING GET UNKILLED WHAT HAPPENED OVER HERE”.

DEVON: No it was just the—

KUNO: Oh, yeah.

IAIN: Woo!

DEVON: —continuity’s way harder than anyone thinks it is (laughs). It’s a lot.

KUNO: Oh bless you guys for knowing that though cause we—we totally would. Like, think, there was a point I remember saying that they changed Viren’s eye color because they didn’t want too much continuity with Rayla’s eye color and I feel like we were really that close to having a ‘Viren is Rayla’s real father’ issue. We really were. Somebody had to have thought about that issue (laughs).

DEVON: I actually think there is—there’s still at least one shot in the show where Viren has the wrong eye color and if you can find it, congratulations (laughter in background). That’s where we missed—missed it. So it’s in there somewhere.

KUNO: Xadia CSI (IAIN laughs). So you two are married, um, can you tell us what it’s like being married writing partners?

IAIN: You wanna go?

DEVON: Um, yeah, I mean it’s—we actually knew each other professionally before we dated, so it wasn’t like we—it’s sort of like, it was easy for us to—to remain work partners because that was how we existed in the first place. Like I met Iain when I interviewed him for a job and I—he was great (IAIN laughs), he was fun, he was all right.

IAIN: Apparently I passed.

DEVON: But um, so yeah we had a professional relationship before we had a dating—‘dating’ relationship. Um, so it’s strange because a lot of people will say like, “Oh, that’s probably terrible. You probably, like, become absolutely sick of each other” but somehow we’ve managed to—to have like, two relationship patterns where when we’re at work and we’re working on writing stuff we have this very professional thing going on and then at home, we’re just married idiots and we have a lot of fun. So like, I don’t know, I’m never tired of you, personally.

IAIN: No, (DEVON laughs) yeah I mean when we’re writing it’s generally like, Devon’s the one on the keys uh, you know, putting the words in and so on, and it will kind of bounce back and forth between like, I’ll have the idea for the—how the scene should flow and I’ll kinda narrate bits and then we’ll go back and smooth things over. But I mean, I could imagine that with some people it would get tense, but I think Devon and I, we’re just absolutely the most comfortable with each other and neither of us takes it personally when it’s like, “that line that you pitched isn’t working” or “this joke could be funnier”, anything like that.

DEVON: It’s usually Iain who’s—cause I usually type cause I type really too fast.

IAIN: She’s really too proud of her typing (laughs).

DEVON: I type super fast, it’s my only real talent, but—like I’ll just sort of go off on some sort of like incredibly unnecessary, long description of something and Iain will sort of let me get about like four or five lines into this unnecessary nonsense and he’ll just sort start going like, “OK so like, do we really—do we need that? I mean, you know, could we sort of parse this down a little, a little less, a little less”. And then I, just like, “Ugh, fine” (laughs).

IAIN: But um, every word she writes is great.

DEVON: Mmm (skeptically)

IAIN: It’s perfect.

DEVON: Completely not true. Also in our scripts I think like—

KUNO: Aw.

DEVON: —in terms of the way that we work professionally, I think like a lot of my strengths are in—in really almost self indulgent levels of drama and he can kind of pull me back from being too indulgent on those fronts. And then I think that Iain is objectively absurdly funny and so when you kind of look at our episodes usually everything that’s pretty funny and lighthearted and like the sense of levity often comes from you and then if there’s anything that just feels really painfully sad it’s probably me?

IAIN: I’m the funny one.

DEVON: (laughs) It’s true.

KUNO: Aw, I feel such a connection to you Devon, because I’m actually, episode 3 was actually one of my favorite ones because I love all that like domestic stuff. I love just kind of like—oh, I don’t know what you call the trope, like a safe house trope where you go somewhere, you’re still kind of in the adventure but we’re in a space right now, a narrative space where people are safe, if that makes any sense. Like you—if you’ve ever seen How To Train Your Dragon, like (T/N I don’t know what was said here, sorry!), the base is the safe place, that kind of thing. So, I totally get that, I actually see—episode 3 was one of my favorites outside of pretty much every episode where Rayllum was a thing. (laughter from multiple people)

HAILEY: The whole season basically (laughs).

KUNO: Pretty much the whole season, um. I think there was one more question about two.

HAILEY: Yeah sooo.

KUNO: Before we get to the elves.

HAILEY: Yeah, definitely. Uh so it was mentioned that you’re now lead writer, Devon, and can you tell a little bit more about what that entails if you can, and how that’s been going?

DEVON: Yeah, I mean… I actually don’t know what I can say about it, um… I think it—it means that uh, for future Dragon Prince stuff I’ll sort of like take a bit more of an active role in leading the—the development and the storylines and things like that. It also means that from a company perspective um I’ve been kind of involved in some other side stuff that Wonderstorm is quietly looking into developing and um I help a lot with other IPs that we would love to make a real thing someday and that’s kind of all I can say about it I think or I’ll get in trouble.

HAILEY: All right, that’s great, that’s good to know, thank you.

KUNO: The Dragon Prince 2 (laughter from multiple people). I’m totally joking everyone that’s not a thing so don’t take that for—

HAILEY: Wow.

KUNO: I’m joking.

IAIN: Two dragons.

DEVON: The Dragon 2 Prince.

KUNO: Yeah. OK also if there’s anything that you guys say that you want redacted this is probably not going up for another week because I have to get our reaction episode out. So anything you guys think about that you’re like, “Maybe I shouldn’t have said that” just message us and we’ll redact that. Yeah, cause we know that—

HAILEY: Or just say it. Just tell us, like, what’s—

DEVON: Hopefully we have some self-control but—

KUNO: Okay, so we are going to get really indulgent here and I think this is going to be really in Devon’s wheelhouse. We have a lot of questions and a bunch of the scenarios so try to get through as much of it as possible. Um so the first question is can you tell us more about the Silvergrove? What is the government system like in Silvergrove? Who runs it? If you could tell us that is that the only—at least like the leadership role? Um, is that the only Moonshadow elf village? And also do they actually get any real daylight because I noticed when the illusion thing happened it just got shady and I’m like, “They might be taking this Moonshadow thing too far”. Like the elves—do they really like that much? So like tell us about the Silvergrove and where Rayla grew up.

IAIN: So I guess it’s probably worth just starting off with a kind of blanket like, ‘if it hasn’t been in the show, we can’t say it’s 100% fact. A lot of this is just gonna be what kind of we thought, rough shape of things happen in our heads—‘

KUNO: Yeah, absolutely.

IAIN: —going into the writing and so on. So you know, don’t come after me with any, uh, fandom lawyers, anyone. But um yeah, I guess like it’s sort of—it’s most useful for us to think about it in comparison to how the Sunfire elves, like clearly they have very structured society. They have a queen, obviously, and they have large cities and so on whereas we think Moonshadow elves live in, as you saw, much smaller communities. And I think the Silvergrove is not the only one of those, it might be one of the better known ones where clearly the best assassins come from. But uh, I think are other ones out there, um, and maybe even Moonshadow elf people do not know where all the other ones are. Obviously the Silvergrove is hidden and maybe they don’t even have access to all the other ones. So I think there’s a sort of community run vibe to things. I think you know when they decided to—to ghost Rayla, and before that Rayla’s parents, I think that was probably a ‘let’s all come to a consensus before we make a decision about something like this’. I think, Devon, if you want to talk about the kind of like sunlight vibes things, because that was a big part of your driving force behind how this episode looked and felt.

DEVON: Um… well… first, I will say that it was potentially from the top down a complicated visual decision to have episode 3 take place in a Moonshadow elf shady forest grove and also the kingdom of sunlight.

IAIN: Yup.

DEVON: It created a couple production problems in terms of like the way we wanted the Silvergrove to look was very like evening themed and cool colors and you know shaded. And I had this really sort of self indulgent thing where I really wanted it to be as close to night time as possible and yet the story line in Lux Aurea was clearly taking place in the middle of the day. So we came to this sort of compromise that you know it is technically daytime through the whole day and there is enough tree cover that it’s already pretty shadowy but also I think there is some magic at play that’s sort of like generally um shrouds the whole thing in more of like a night time vibe. And my inspiration for that was I’m a big World of Warcraft player, or was I don’t super play a ton anymore but I really loved Ashenvale and some of the night elf regions and they had that similar thing that no matter what time of day it was it always felt like at least dusk or like this sort of like ever—ever shaded feeling. And I indulgently kind of wanted that to be where Rayla came from. So that’s what that’s about.

IAIN: Yeah and I think they’re magical beings. They don’t need vitamin D from the sunlight or anything like that. They’re totally fine if they just get moonlight every so often.

DEVON: But yeah, don’t write a script that has, you know, moon themed place and sun themed place at the same time. It was a… questionable choice (laughs). But I think it turned out—

KUNO: Yeah, ‘cause I was wondering—I was wondering—I was like “Okay” because a lot of the stuff you run through—you run the okay, if I were to write a fanfiction how do I use this. So it’s like, do they just never like—if they like—if Callum were to say live in the Silvergrove would he just have to get used to the fact that like it’s just never totally bright daylight or unless you leave the Silvergrove in the forest, uh, and like—that type of—is that what’s kind of like going on, they just like their shade?

DEVON: I think they like their shade. It’s like Scotland in the winter.

IAIN: Oh yeah, except we all get miserable by around about February when we haven’t seen sunlight in several months. But um yeah, I think it’s kind of like yeah, a combination of ‘oooh, magic’ and also just extremely, like, thick tree cover in the deepest parts of the forest. But I don’t think you have to travel too far. But uh, I think there’s a reason why everyone in that town was a Moonshadow elf and there were no Sunfire elves or random humans just like, chilling and living there. I think only the most goth of kids would be able to live in the Silvergrove without going a little bit mad.

DEVON: I mean you only have to go as far as the adoraburr field which clearly still gets a significant amount of daylight.

IAIN: Yeah.

KUNO: And you said there’s not really like a leader. They do as a community, but is there anyone that like makes decisions, like is there anybody that like if they were to go to somebody, like if they have like village leadership decisions. And obviously, um, blanket statement that all this we assume is kind a little bit of headcanon so it doesn’t have to be like for gospel, but you know for purposes of writing stuff.

DEVON: Um the way I thought about it—well, to back up a tiny bit, there was actually a version of the story where there might have—this was super, super early on, we were thinking about how the story might play out and we talked about there being potentially another Moonshadow elf leader type character that they would meet who, you know, was the one who ultimately called for the Ghosting decision. But that didn’t really fit the sort of, like, very personal nature of the story we wanted to play out with Rayla specifically. Um but thinking about that and the way that we were, you know, trying to shape it—I would imagine that like the assassins are sort of like a specific group that live in the Silvergrove which is otherwise—it’s not all assassins, like, not everybody there is an assassin. And I think that means that like you know Runaan was the leader of the assassins so he might consult with the leader of the blacksmiths who may be someone over Ethari but maybe it’s him now who might consult with the other general leaders—I don’t know. Like I think it’s more of a counsel of different groups than one single authority. It just seems like that would be a better fit for Moonshadow elves than the sort of like very, very strong-army, structured, high-and-mighty feeling that the Sunfire elves have, so, does that make sense?

KUNO: That totally makes sense, a little bit like an oligarchy, I think I had the idea that like they sound like they like a counsel. Like it sounds like a elven conciliatory.

DEVON: Yeah I think like someone might say, like obviously something horrible has happened and Rayla is exactly the person we thought she was. I’m calling for a—a ghost vote. And then you know—

IAIN: With a cooler name than that.

DEVON: No I think it’s canonically, I’m sorry—

IAIN: Ghost vote?

DEVON: The canon is “ghost vote” now.

IAIN: Okay.

DEVON: But yeah, they would all sort of like weight in kind of like a town hall scenario about of like why this is obviously the correct call and they would all sort of like have to come to some sort of agreement about what to do versus the Sunfire queen just being like “mph, time for the light, light decides!”

IAIN: Yeah.

KUNO: Okay um the next question being almost a little on that, does Ethari regret, um, what does he—does Ethari regret doing the banishing spell now that he knows the truth about Rayla?

DEVON: Oh absolutely 100%. But I don’t think he would have the power to—to reverse it. Like I think he could do a quick charm to help reverse it in the moment just to speak with her but ultimately it would take a lot for him to undo it and I’m not—we haven’t talked about what he’ll get up to in the meantime, but I don’t know he would be able to pursue it so directly—I’d have to talk about it, I think it would be an interesting side thought to think about how he might pursue redeeming her in the eyes of her people knowing what he knows, but—

IAIN: Yeah I think given that we said it would take everyone to do it collectively and make an agreed decision it would similarly everyone would have to understand the truth and go back on it and ‘oh I saw her one time and she said she didn’t do anything wrong probably isn’t enough to overturn that. But yeah I think he probably felt some regret even at the moment, but you know he’s in some of the worst grief of his entire life and he’s not going to make perfect rational decisions. And I’ve seen you know some people were slightly upset that he got so angry with Rayla in the moment of seeing her but I think like when you first see the person that you’ve tried to convince yourself sort of took the most important person in your life away from you, you’re gonna feel a big mess of feelings and it will bring up some grief that maybe you thought you were just—just starting to get over, so ah. Yeah I think hopefully he can turn that around in the years to come but they’ve all had a rough time. They’re at war. It sucks (DEVON laughs). Don’t go to war, kids.

KUNO: Hailey did you want to ask the next one or did you want me to?

HAILEY: Sure I can ask it. Could you—so I mean—you mentioned a stuff—a couple things about their government system and whatnot, but is there anything else you could tell us about Moonshadow culture, like what their day to day is like, and what it means to be a Moonshadow elf?

DEVON: Um I do think that a lot of the fandom I’ve been pleased to see has picked up on this sort of idea of a fairly rigid culture and you know there’s a lot of importance placed on things like honor, loyalty, and the ability to commit to things. And um I think that could come off as pretty strict but I actually think it comes from the place of valuing a close knit community. And I think, like, to the idea that we said like they probably have some kind of counsel instead of some single authority kind of ruler. It’s—I think their day to day would be very much going about their business in ways that support each other you know? Like does that make sense? It’s—you go to the blacksmith and he does work for you and it’s friendly and conversational but it’s productive—it’s all very for the good of the community.

IAIN: Yeah I think early on in season 1 even Rayla says that you know they’re not really meant to show their feelings. So I think everyone kind of commits to doing their task for the good of the village and doesn’t gripe about their day to day until something bad happens as the entire series to this point has been driven by. But um yeah I think they uh—they’re just committed to having a good, small, close knit village life and all supporting each other the best they can. And then occasionally the dragon queen tells you to go kill someone and that’s your job so you better go do that without complaining about it.

DEVON: I think we use the words “reclusive yet intimate” in the article we put up about the two moon creatures, the moonstrider and the shadowpaw. And I liked that a lot because I think they’re reclusive in the sense that they’re a little bit shut off from the wider world and they’re um isolationist in their preservation of their own culture but they are very close to each other and that is something that they hold at such an—like a preciousness level but it’s also a bit extreme, like if you betray that in any capacity like obviously they take that very seriously. And so it’s a double edged sword if you will, to have a community that supportive and that close but also your ability to perform all of yourself for the good of that community can be your undoing so—

KUNO: No I actually kinda get that um ‘cause I’m Pacific Islander so I think we’d call that what you’d call a collectivist society where it’s like the needs of the group supercede needs of the individual so I kinda like I—it’s not the extreme I think that they are because they’re very like reclusive but um I kinda live like that in a little bit of way. It’s what I grew up with. So I actually totally get that which might be why I like that so much (multiple people laugh). Um so the next question would be how does the banishing spell work that, um, that was used on Rayla politically and magically? I think we’ve talked a little bit about politically already but magically is—I’m assuming it’s a collective decision or does each person, like, opt in? Like could Ethari have opted out of doing it or did we—did they all have to agree?

DEVON: I think everybody have to agree?

KUNO: And how is it broken?

DEVON: I don’t think you can opt out?

IAIN: Um I think ‘how is it broken’ is something we definitely want to save for—for the future uh we really hope that Rayla manages to undo that. In terms of I think that it’s just culturally ingrained that you wouldn’t opt out. Um I think they would probably just argue forever until they manage to come to an agreement. So I—yeah I don’t think there’s you know half the elves in that village who are seeing Rayla and were like “Oh hey Rayla how’s it going?” I think uh they all came to the collective decision. That’s kind of the political angle. Um sorry, what was the other part? Magically how it works?

KUNO: Yeah? How would you do it?

IAIN: I—again, you know if it’s not in the show it’s not canon, but I sort of inspired by how the entrance spell works where they do a dance and there’s a ritual and I imagine it’s kind of similar. Like I think there’s a lot of that kind of like ritualistic style of magic and it’s kind of like what you see when they put the flowers out onto the water as well. There’s you know a collective dance probably involving a lot more people, a lot more cool intricate runes that happen only with a much more somber mood than the fun, happy times of Callum and Rayla dancing around in the forest. Um so yeah it’s probably—I would imagine it’s probably tied to some whatever the saddest phase of the moon is and that’s when they all get together and really somberly and really sadly uh commit to never seeing this person again. At least that’s the part of the plan. An interesting question that I think could be something that fanfiction writers such as yourself could get into is has any one of these ever been broken before or have they all been pretty sure that they would never need to go back on it? Is that going to be something that Rayla is going to figure out for the first time ever or is there a precedent for this happening. And we don’t have an answer right now but I think that would be a cool story to think about and write.

DEVON: Oh man I love the saddest phase of the moon idea. Imagine if they do it at the new moon because it’s like the moon’s face is hidden forever. Whoo.

IAIN: Whoo.

DEVON: Sad.

KUNO: Maybe we’re birthing things while we’re doing this interview. I actually think it would be like Callum does the Historia Viventum thing and it would be so—cause now I’m just imagining this whole village doing this sad dance which is the Banish Rayla dance essentially. And like that would be so sad for Rayla to witness that just for the drama of seeing her entire village decide to just not see her ever again. And that’s like wow, I’m so sad now.

DEVON: I love sadness.

IAIN: Yeah Callum just crushing a series of Moon Opals to show such a clip show of all of Rayla’s saddest history moments (laughs).

DEVON: Oh god.

IAIN: That’d be great.

DEVON: Thanks Callum.

KUNO: Thanks Callum. Um, she’d love him anyway. But um okay so some of my favorite stuff, what was it like for Rayla when her parents had to leave her to live with Runaan and Ethari and what was that transition like for them all? How old was like Rayla too?

DEVON: This was one that we’ve had a couple different ideas about so this is another one that’s like heavy not quite canon bubble. Like if we actually end up doing a story that involves some of these details it’s likely to change and be slightly different but the versions that I’ve liked have involved her being pretty young. And because honor is such a you know key part of Moonshadow culture I think like overall it was something that she felt you know sad about because she knew that she wasn’t going to be directly seeing her parents very often anymore. And—but it was uh such a huge honor that she felt you know pride in what her parents were being selected to go do. You know, act as Dragonguard and serve as these sort of like honorific, um, warriors that left the collective of the Silvergrove to go represent Moonshadow elves in the service of the Dragon Queen. And I think she had—she grew up being told what an honor that was and how much pride she should have in her parents because that is such a special thing. And then I think like it speaks a lot to how proud she was when she believed that they ran away and abandoned that duty because you know, how could they? If that was their reason for leaving her when she was a child and then they ran away from that job, like, how important could it have really been? And then you know, I’m sure that makes her feel very, very small. It made her feel so hurt that she told Callum at first that they were dead so she took it pretty hard.

KUNO: Yeah.

DEVON: But I think the other thing about it that we’ve sort of kicked around is that like, Runaan and Ethari were Rayla’s parents’ close friends and I think she was familiar with them enough that she didn’t feel like she was being you know left with two strangers. It’s sort of just like, you’re going to be under the care of people who are already very, very close to you and care about you quite a bit.

IAIN: Yeah I think with like Moonshadow elves in general the thing I think about a lot is like the good and evil that comes from suppressing your true emotions to show a different face to the world and I think we see a lot of that in Rayla. Like I think she probably committed pretty hard to Ghosting her parents because she had this like big mess of like sadness that she’d left but at least the soft landing of Runaan and Ethari to live with and so on. But believing like this sadness is worth it because they’re doing something so noble and then the betrayal of that—it just came out in kind of a messy like toxic way, right, where now she’s committed to becoming an assassin at a really young age in a way Ethari doesn’t agree with and so on. But I mean on the other side I think having a strong handle on your emotions is often one of Rayla’s strengths right? Like we saw in episode 5 of this season after she’s going through a whole lot of stuff, both her family situation and this new development with Callum, she’s just able to like operate as a cool badass extremely cool assassin without letting any of that affect her. But you know I think there’s balance in how you handle your feelings and how you externalize them in a good way that people can learn from, but sometimes you gotta—you gotta work (laughs).

KUNO: That makes sense. Oh well yeah I always had this personal headcanon which I kind of like incorporated into my fanfictions where she felt abandoned by her parents so in a way it’s kinda like slightly—kinda like that except it was all those feelings that have been repressed from years and years basically came out when she felt like—like the abandonment came to like the head when she felt like they had left because they had ran away—they kind of like ran away like from her.

DEVON: Oh yeah, absolutely.

KUNO: In a way—their duty to—

DEVON: I think that validates the suppressed feeling, you know.

KUNO: Yeah, since their duty to the Dragonguard was in it’s own way more important and that’s something that was like okay because it was an honor but since they ran away it’s like obviously it was more important in a terrible way, if that makes any sense?

IAIN: Yeah I mean I think it’s like she did her best and she’s trying to be a grown up but it’s hard at a young age to accept that you know there are meant to be higher callings than a bond between parents and children, right? Like that’s hard for her to grasp and she probably didn’t express that openly ever really. But I think it really did help that she had two genuine loving father figures ready to accept her with open arms even if one of them did train her to become the best assassin of her generation, which again I wouldn’t advise to—to most parents out there.

DEVON: I do think like even that was considered, you know, honorable. It was you know, you’re going to—not only are you going to get to live with Runaan and Ethari, like Runaan is the leader of the assassins, or at least maybe at that point in time he wasn’t the leader but he was very up and coming. I don’t know, it could be either or, but that I think was probably something that she fully embraced and fully wanted, like you know, ‘this is my purpose in life, this is my calling, my parents have gone off to do their calling and it’s a great honor for them, and this is my path and what I’m going to do with myself’. And that didn’t end up being true but it was probably a comfort to her at the time.

IAIN: Yeah.

KUNO: That makes a lot of sense. Moving on, okay, this, we’re getting real indulgent now—do you know what Ethari and Runaan’s wedding was like and what are Moonshadow elf weddings are like in general?

DEVON: Um, I have a, so a lot of the dancing stuff is because I have an enormous soft spot for tropes involving cute dances, like, just a huge, huge soft spot. And the thing that comes to mind is, if you’ve seen the movie Prince of Egypt, which is such a weird reference—

KUNO: Yeah, I love that.

DEVON: —the scene where he and the girl, I forget her name, they do the thing—

KUNO: Tzipporah.

DEVON: —with the ribbon and they do the cute little dance with the ribbon. For some reason that’s what I think of when I imagine what a moment in their wedding would look like would be a dance with a ribbon that they sort of use to—you know, Moonshadow elves love ribbons, I guess, but this is a good ribbon! It’s a love ribbon. But anyway, that’s just my idea. I love that specific—that song that, “Through Heaven’s Eyes”, it’s during that sequence but that—

KUNO: Yeah.

DEVON: —would be my go-to inspiration for like, it’s like that and then you know, everybody dances with them because Moonshadow elves like to dance.

IAIN: Yeah, I kind of like the idea of the—there’s a lot of these symbols that are sometimes extremely sinister. I mean I think Ethari even kinda calls this out when he shoots the—the Shadowhawk arrow to inform the queen that her son is in fact alive. But like, Moonshadow elves believe that death and life are not good and evil, they’re mirrors of each other and an important part of the cycle. And you know, the moon has cycles and that’s an important part. So I think thinking about all the rituals and stuff that they have, which initially you’re introduced to as ‘let’s go murder someone party’, like if that was—there was a kind of inverse to that that was a big part of their wedding ceremony I think that would make a lot of sense to Moonshadow elves because this is two people binding their lives together forever. Binding for a shared purpose in a good way and not the grim ‘let’s go kill Prince Ezran’ kind of way.

KUNO: Yeah. Cause naturally this is involving like several ships so I’m like, I had to ask that. And on the piggyback of that, as detailed as possible, can you describe courtship customs for Moonshadow elves?

DEVON: Oh man.

KUNO: I mean like dating—dating customs, like a headcanon even if it’s just headcanons.

IAIN: Devon is deep in thought (laughs).

DEVON: I’ve never—like for some reason the—the headcanons that I’ve thought about are more specific to like, Runaan and Ethari than I’ve really sort of like branched out into thinking about how Moonshadow elves do this in general. So I imagine there’s intended—there’s some formality to it, I would imagine, in that like, because they’re so, you know, purposeful and thoughtful with how they express their feelings if at all, I think it would be, you know, exchange of gifts like small favors and making your purpose known in a way that starts small but has purpose. So I think like, there’s versions where Ethari would put extra detail into the work he was doing for Runaan which you know, could be perceived as a sign of affection or Runaan was coming to Ethari asking him to work on his weapons or metalcraft stuff a little bit more than was necessary and—stuff like that, where it’s a bit stiff and difficult but I think like once—once there is clear reciprocation I think there can be more of an open discussion about it, does that make sense? But I think Runaan probably struggled with this a whole lot, like, ‘cause he’s—did I, it might have been you who I responded to on Twitter but someone asked me something along these lines and I think Runaan had a really hard time even with this first sort of like simple offerings of affection because that’s just him. Like he sort of takes that aspect to an extreme. Like he has a hard time being like “here is the way I wish to express myself in a soft way and not with a—a sharp object. So I think Ethari had an easier time because he’s just more naturally soft (laughs).

IAIN: Yeah I sometimes think that Runaan is the most Moonshadow elf of all Moonshadow elves, but like, you know, it’s—

KUNO: I was gonna say that.

IAIN: Yeah, um, you know when they have such a hard time showing their feelings and they sometimes feel like they’re not supposed to and so on, and so Runaan is trying to pick up on the tiniest possible hints through professional exchanges and so on. And I think when it’s actually time to confess that there’s a feeling there you would, I think especially Runaan would have to be 100% sure and then do it entirely in private, the most private situation possible where there could be no possible spies who could see this if it was going to go wrong because that would just be the end of his entire life, obviously.

DEVON: Yeah he would bind himself to his own death (laughs).

IAIN: Yeah, that’s it. Gonna assassinate myself because I confessed love and it didn’t get reciprocated. That’s that.

DEVON: It’s over.

IAIN: So yeah, lot of—lots of awkward advances where they’re trying—trying to have the escape hatch of “Oh I didn’t really try to suggest that I liked you, this was just me asking you for a professional favor by let’s never speak again”.

DEVON: And then he comes back the next day (DEVON and IAIN laugh).

KUNO: Oh my goodness. Uh I felt—I—I kinda like headcanoning now that Ethari tells Rayla all this “how I met, you know, your surrogate dad” kind of stuff. Like, and that’s how she—she’s like, this is how you do love apparently.

DEVON: I do think that like, yeah, he had a much easier time and probably picked up on stuff. And to me there’s a side of Ethari that you don’t really get to see in the episode because he’s very sad. I think he’s a—he does have a playful side and I like to imagine that while Runaan was doing his, like, really just not-the-best attempts to display affection early on, like Ethari would pick up on them but not necessarily give the full signal back. And he played a little bit oblivious but he absolutely was—he’s just more emotionally in tune. So I think, “Oh hey, you’re back again, wow. I thought I did fantastic work on your blades last time. I cannot believe they’re already dull!” Like and he just sort of like, he knows—he knows there’s something there.

IAIN: I think like this kind of gets echoed in Rayla, like where Callum in an effort to pick her up and be honest about how he feels that she’s just an incredible person. Like to her that’s like, ‘person being entirely open with their feelings in a positive way? That’s a love connection!’ And then it goes wrong for one entire episode and then it turns out that Callum was also not fully aware of how he was feeling and so on. But I think like, yeah, I think that’s why she was like immediately “Wow, this is clearly meant to be romantic and this is—this is going exactly the way I want!” and then it didn’t. But then it did! So we’re all happy.

DEVON: Aww.

KUNO: I am! I’m certainly happy. Um—uh let’s see—the next one is—okay. What was Rayla like as a child growing up in a household she did—household? Um, she mentioned going to school and we’d love to know how baby Rayla fared as a student and just a child growing up in the Silvergrove and what that experience is like for a Moonshadow elf child?

DEVON: You want—you want me to do this one?

IAIN: Go for it.

DEVON: Yeah, um, I think Rayla was feisty (laughs) in a word. I think she—for some reason there’s a scene in the beginning of Korra where she’s already mastered like, three elements and she like comes out punching. I kind of think about that when I think about baby Rayla. She knows she’s—there’s that end credit scene where she’s got the two sticks and she’s posing with them and Runaan’s sort of lifting one of them up and I’m thinking like, okay so sheg’s like, from a tiny, tiny age thinking like, “I’m gonna be the coolest assassin the Moonshadow elves have ever seen!” and she’s like rambunctious about that almost, because you know, as a child you don’t really understand what the ramifications of that are but it’s considered like a highly, highly valued, honored position and so she’s obviously like, “Yeah I’m gonna do that and I’m going to be the best at it and there will never be any complications whatsoever!” In terms of Moonshadow elf childhood, I think with the way that I would think about it is—we talked about the sort of community aspect. I imagine Moonshadow elves have pretty, like, what’s the word, like, a lot of general education, sort of, like, “this is what weaponsmithing is like and this is gardening and raising crops and things to provide for the community” and so I think they would have a lot of ‘school’ that covers a lot of just like, life basics because you are expect to find a place that contributes to the collective whole. Does that like—?

IAIN: Yeah, I think like it’s also lucky for Rayla that a big part of Moonshadow elf culture is what we would call PE. Like I think she excelled at striving to be an assassin warrior and so on. Especially like, she’s trying to live up to her parents who at first were honored Dragonguard and you know, Runaan as well. I think in terms of like, more academic stuff like if there was Moonshadow elf history lessons and “let’s go out and understand the, you know, ecology of the Moonshadow forest” and stuff I think she was probably a bit kinda like, rambunctious and not super paying attention and running off and not really giving it her all and so on. Um, you kind of get that impression from early on where she knows what Primal sources are and she’ll explain that to Callum but like, when she’s talking about ‘how do you do that Moonshadow form thing’ she’s like “I don’t know, it just feels right”. Like I think that’s—she did everything very intuitively and focused on the things she cared about and understood and kinda did what she—did what she could on the other subjects, I guess, but didn’t care as much.

DEVON: Yeah I feel like if you imagine the kid that is going to grow up to be an artist is doing doodles on their math homework and just sort of like doing the math homework but—but you know, clearly the effort is being placed elsewhere. I think it’s that but she was excelling at PE and assassin training and therefore fell very, very easily into her supposed path.

KUNO: The—this isn’t on the thing, but did—did she ever—did she ever really have any friends? ‘Cause she doesn’t really mention—ever mention friends. I—maybe that has to do with the whole assassin thing where if she wasn’t learning being at school she would probably doing assassin stuff with Runaan or assassin training stuff—I guess not really assassinating. But um did she have really friends growing up?

IAIN: I think if she had friends they were not super close. And I think she valued her alone time. There’s a sweet moment early in—well end of season 1 where she like tries to cheer up Ezran by saying that fitting in is overated and I think she felt that a little bit. Um and you know I think there’s some amount of when you’re being trained in the art of an assassin like you’re probably somewhat taught to—to keep people at arm’s length a little bit, right? And I think she—she took that to heart. So I think that’s a big part of why when she was first traveling with Callum and Ezran there wasn’t that much trust between then and it was kinda like, it was Ezran honestly that bridged the gap being most empathetic number 1 child. And yeah, I think having a close friend is relatively new to her.

KUNO: Makes sense. Like just few, not the many. Um okay then next question before we get to Hailey’s batch of them are um, what are Runaan’s feelings toward Rayla as of right now and everything that’s happened since season 1? I understand he’s in a coin, he’s in a finacial crisis, he’s probably not thinking about it too hard—

DEVON: Oh my god (laughs).

KUNO: But you know, like he’s gotta be—you know he’s not doing anything right now, I’m assuming, so like what would be his feelings about her at the moment?

DEVON: I mean he’s got a lot of time to think, wherever he is. I think like—I got into this a little bit on Twitter in a self-indulgent rant at one point where I think he went through a lot very quietly during the first few episodes of the show where he very, very much wanted Rayla to succeed, even if he wasn’t necessarily like being the dad on the sideline of the soccer game, like, cheering for her. But he thought this was her moment, this was her time to prove that she really was more dedicated to you know, her cause and her people than her parents were because they had, you know, been the subject of such shame. And then ah, everything goes the way it does, I think he has a brief crisis of, “Is this my fault? Did I fail to train her well enough? Like, was Ethari right?” Because he always thought she had, you know, a softer heart. And I think like those are the types of things that he’s still stewing on, um like did—”did he overstep? Was it something—was he so eager to give her the opportunity to prove herself that he, you know, ultimately put her in a position where she could not succeed?” I think like, the other thing that I mentioned on Twitter was I think he took her off the mission both because he very, very much wanted to give himself and the others a chance to complete the mission even if it meant their deaths. But it also meant that Rayla had the chance to survive even if it was potentially going to be misinterpreted and she’d get slapped with the Ghosting, I think he believed that her alive was better than everybody being dead. So I think like, he’s got a lot—a lot to work through and I think like—I think he feels guilty. I think there’s the smallest part of him that he has the—again, a lot of time to potentially stew on and reflect on is he does feel like he put her in a position that was, you know, not fully taking into account the type of person she was and more projecting onto her the type of person he wanted her to be and gift he wanted to give her of redeeming herself in the eyes of her people for her parents. And I think he’s gonna have to work through that. Poor dude.

KUNO: That’s so sadly heartfelt. That’s so sadly heartfelt. Here I am thinking that he’d be, like, maybe a little angry with her, ‘cause obvious reason, but now it’s like, oh he feels guilty. Like, “Oh, okay, let’s just slap the angst on, okay”.

DEVON: I mean, I think like—

KUNO: Yeah, mm-hm.

DEVON: Sure he’d have some anger, like, “Awgh, I gave her everything. I gave her the exact opportunity she needed”. But I think like the guilt and the reflection leads to the “Maybe I—maybe it was me who stepped too far here”.

IAIN: Yeah, I mean another part of it is like, we don’t know what it’s like being trapped in the hell coin dimension, right?

DEVON: Oh I do. I—I mean—

IAIN: Oh you do?

DEVON: It sucks.

IAIN: Oh it sucks?

DEVON: When it happens to me on the reg (IAIN laughs).

IAIN: But you know, does it feel like an eternity is passing? Does it feel like no time has passed? Is he in eternal pain? Because if it’s like real bad—

KUNO: Oh my god.

IAIN: —in there I can imagine that like yeah there’s definitely some of those kind of anger feelings that you don’t want to feel in but you do sometimes, right? Like it’s like, if he has a snap moment of “I wouldn’t be in here if she hadn’t gone off and disobeyed our orders and, like, lied to me and so on”. So if he ever comes out uh don’t know what side of the emotional coin he’s gonna land on.

DEVON: Ohhh, please leave.

KUNO: Oh my god.

DEVON: Get out, oof, ouch.

IAIN: Finger guns.

DEVON: I do think like that sort of complex—

KUNO: It sounds—

DEVON: —emotion is just, I don’t want to give any time to that pun, we’re moving on. Like that sort of complexity of emotion and relationships is something that I really like in the show overall. Like you said earlier, you saw some people that were a little bit upset that Ethari was so willing to lash out at Rayla at first and I think like to me that was always part of the big, big thematic of the show, which is this sort of endless cycle of people being willing to hurt each other and not forgive each other and not, you know, accept that you can choose peace. It’s, you know, it’s—Runaan having that impulse to anger is a very natural thing and it doesn’t—I don’t think it necessarily makes him a bad person for feeling that. And I don’t necessarily think that Ethari having his moments of grief lead him to actions that are ultimately like, regretful, like I don’t think he would want that to define him in the long run. Like those are very human things but those are the things as we acknowledge them and as are—so long as we are capable of recognizing how flawed we are and how violent and…

KUNO: Messy.

DEVON: Messy! Thank you, that’s like, I was going to say like churning, messy is good. Like messy emotions can be and how they can like, dictate the way we treat each other, um, but forgiveness and patience and acceptance are ultimately just so much more powerful than those negative perpetuating lashing outs. That was an inelegant way of ending that screed, but yes.

KUNO: I actually really love that um ‘cause I from the beginning I’ve loved their father-daughter relationship so I love how complicated it is, ‘cause the truth is you know every parent-child relationship is a little complicated, except theirs is a little more complicated with assassination going on in the works, the family trade. So I love that it is this complicated ‘cause I know I remember in the beginning where people were like you know—you know she does have a dad. And it’s like I know she has a biological dad but until I am told otherwise that’s her father. I don’t care and I love their relationship so I love that that really reflects that. Another—the next question out of me before we get to, um, Hailey’s, which are all about different elves, is um, course I have to ask, my policy is one Rayllum question per interview. Um what are Runaan’s feelings—whah, no, whoop, how would Ruthari and Runaan react to Rayla’s relationship with Callum considering he’s not only a human but a human prince? ‘Cause as far as we know Runaan really hates, um, humans and I’d love to see that story later, both individually and as a couple. Because as far as I know, Ethari probably doesn’t know that their in a relationship unless he sensed it?

DEVON: Oh man, I—I think you should take this one, but I do want to say that I saw one comment on Tumblr at one point where someone said that they wished that Ethari had said something to Callum along the lines of like, “Take care of her”. And I want to travel back in time and pretend that was in the script ‘cause I think that would have been really, really nice. And I do think like, he picked up on the fact that Callum was important to her even if it—he didn’t necessarily read it as romantic right off the bat. I think he mostly was like, “Oh this guy is kind of like a cute—he’s a human but he’s, you know, a friend to someone I care about and that in and of itself is valuable and there’s something there”. So I think—pretend that was in the script. I wish I had thought about something like that but—

KUNO: I will (DEVON laughs).

IAIN: Yeah.

KUNO: That’s canon as far—as far as I’m concerned that’s canon.

IAIN: I think uh it would be best for everyone involved if they found out together, uh, because I think Runaan’s impulse would not be good immediately. I think like, when you spend so much time as an assassin and you drill into your head that the people that you’re meant to kill are not people, they’re the enemy right? Like I think that’s—sometimes that’s a thing he turns on to do the job and so on, but I do think that’s gonna bleed into his personality and it’s—you know, especially given his extremely recent history he’s not got the best feelings about humans. So I think it would inspire an immediate negative reaction in him that would not be pleasant for Callum and Rayla, but I think Ethari just has a much softer heart and that is where Rayla kind of got that side from. So I mean I’m not going to say that he would immediately—you know, they’ve been at war for hundreds and hundreds of years with humans and they’ve been told all through their history that humans committed the original sin of dark magic, et cetera et cetera, but like, I think it would take not that much time of seeing Rayla and Callum together for Ethari to see that there’s something there and then I think Ethari would have the ability to ah, to talk Runaan down pretty quick. But I also think that like, Runaan might not even show any of this, there might just be a kind of seething resentment that he’s not really talking about inside. Um unless it was like on the battlefield or something and he was like, “That’s a prince that I’m meant to kill” or something like that. But overall I think Ethari would sense that Runaan was not like—was not taking this well and they would be able to talk it through. At least that’s my gut.

DEVON: No, that sounds right (DEVON and IAIN laugh).

KUNO: I feel like poor Callum is just always on the edge of “Am I going to die tonight?” while he’s there, “Is this gonna be it?” Just gonna be like, “Oops sorry I had an accident—hey I had an accident in the middle of the night, you know, just a knife to the throat, that’s all”.

IAIN: I mean, he’s doing pretty well, like he said as they were about to meet Ethari and Rayla was like, “Remember Runaan?” He was like “Oh yeah, that guy who tried to kill me as soon as he met me? Cool guy”. Callum’s doing pretty well on the acceptance front these days.

DEVON: I do—

KUNO: Yeah.

DEVON: I do want to say that I think Ethari and Callum would get along really well because I think they both have sort of like a soft hearted friendliness to them that they would have a fun rapport. And that’s the sort of like “Trees to meet you” line is definitely supposed to be like—they’d you know, crack some goofy back and forths and I think that would soften Runaan too because he couldn’t ever hate someone that Ethari liked.

IAIN: Yeah, I think it’s a weird—

KUNO: Aww.

IAIN: —reversal where like Callum’s the one doing the dad jokes and Ethari’s like humoring them and Runaan’s like, “I don’t understand. Trees do not meet.”

DEVON: “Please stop saying ‘trees to meet you’.”

KUNO: Aw it never gets old. I love that. Um alright, Hailey, take it away. Your turn.