#He 100% just knows something about everything because he's made an effort to be knowledgeable

[captainreecejames]

Pick Me Up?

Charles Leclerc imagine

summary : the four times Charles picks you up and the one time you pick him up.

pairing : Charles leclerc x fem!reader

I believe there is no mention of YN, but I'm not 100% sure.

word count : 3.5 k

warnings : none that I can think of

note : I only read over this once so if there's spelling errors or other mistakes that's what happened. Next up should either be Logan Sargeant my ex is a footballer or the social media accompanying fic. Anyways, enjoy and me if you like it!!

1. Charles picks you up from a bad date

The date had started fine.

Actually more than fine. He showed up on time, was pleasant to the waitress, and had good manners. Really, he would have even gotten a second date, if he hadn’t brought up Formula 1.

It’s a topic you tend to avoid when meeting new people, as they either tend to know a lot already and want to use you to get to Charles or they don’t know anything and assume that you are using Charles, when they know nothing about your relationship. It was a hassle you learned to shut down before it even began.

But back at the date with Vince, he had brought it up and that’s when things started to go down hill. 

Despite your best efforts, when people brought up Formula 1, you grew taller and more focused on the conversation, it’s like a switch flipped. While Charles driving for the best known team certainly helped your interest, everything about the sport was fascinating for you and you couldn’t help but geek out when the topic came up. 

Vince noticed your reaction and his casual demeanor turned critical. “You only know about it because you think the drivers are hot.” That had made your smile drop instantly, brows furrowing as you tried to respond. “Probably can’t even name all the teams.” He thinks that stumps you, but you’ve dealt with enough shitty men in this sport, you’re not taking anything more from this wanna-be investor.

“I don’t have to prove my knowledge of F1 to you,” you state, deciding that this dinner is now over.

“Oh, now I know you can’t even name five drivers.” Your frown deepens, picking up your napkin and placing it on the table next to your plate. It had gone down hill so fast, how disappointing.

“Your attempt at insulting me into submission is falling flat.” His eyes are wide at your comment, and he must not have expected you realize his move. You flag the waitress over and she walks quickly back to your table, noticing how you’re not smiling anymore. Seems like this date is a bust, so another twenty note must be added to the jar of bets amongst the staff of this restaurant.

(You and Charles visit the place often as it was the sight of your first job, but also the food and people were lovely, and bringing a first date here was the safest option.)

(So they all knew you and were betting on when the dam breaks and you two admit your feelings for each other.)

You hand Lucille enough money to cover both yours and Vince’s meals, not bothering with the change. Your goal now is to get as far away from Vince as soon as possible. He  opens his mouth to say something again, but you are already out of your seat and walking towards the front door, phone calling Charles to pick you up.

He answers on the first ring, always on alert when you go on dates.

(Not because he’s jealous or anything, but because he’s worried about you and needs to make sure that you stay safe. He’s been tempted to bribe the staff of your little restaurant for information during dates after a particularly bad one, but his mom talked him out of it.)

“Ma cherie, is everything alright?” You roll your eyes at his question, just knowing that there’s a smirk on his face right now. He didn’t have a great feeling about Vince, but he wouldn’t say I told you so.

“Can you pick me up please?” You barely need to finish your question before he answers with an ‘of course, I’m already on my way.’

“Need me to stay on the phone?” You glance back at the restaurant, looking in the window to find Vince scrolling away on his phone, oblivious to the movement around him.

“No, focus on the streets. I’ll be fine.” Charles hums his answer and hangs up, leaving you to look busy on the streets of Monte Carlo.

He pulls up not even two minutes later, stopping the car haphazardly in a tow-away zone. You rush to the side, opening the door and shimmying in as fast as you can because even though this is Charles Leclerc’s very recognizable Pista, you don’t want to risk any tickets. While he pulls away you realize how fast he showed up and a question forms on your lips, but he speaks before you have the chance to ask.

“I was only down the road at the marina.” He seems sheepish, like the answer is rehearsed, but you don’t push it because you’re still grateful that he showed up. What would you do without him to pick up after a bad date?

2. Charles picks you cause your car breaks down

This time when you call him should feel less embarrassing than other times, but really it only feels worse. How are you going to admit to him that the car you’ve been saving up for and desperately wanting since you were 7 just crapped out on you before you could even get out of the parking garage? Especially when he advised you against such car. It would be humiliating. 

Alas, you made the call, practicing in your mind what you would say to him. 

Again, he picks up on the first ring, though this time you’re not sure as to why he answered so fast.

“Is everything alright, ma cherie?” You blush, grateful he can’t see your face.

“I’m stuck,” you exhale, ready to face what ever he has in store for you.

“Stuck?”

“My car won’t start and I’m still at work, everyone else has left and I’m in need of a ride.”

“Okay,” he answers, relief filling you. “I’m leaving the gym with Andrea, I should be there in 15 minutes. Don’t talk to any strangers.”

“Love you too, Charles.” You roll your eyes, hanging up on him and sitting in the drivers seat of your beloved, but broken, car. That’s some good money about to go down the drain for the tow and mechanic fees. As you debate calling your dad to help you out with diagnosing what’s wrong with the car, a familiar rumble enters the garage, and you see the ever famous Pista pulling up next to you, a smirking Charles in the driver’s seat.

“Someone call for a pick up?” You want to roll your eyes at him, but the smile on his face makes the irritation melt away. After a long day at work, made even longer because your stupid car that you really wanted wouldn’t start, all you feel is relief and affection for the man in front of you, and it’s a little too overwhelming.

Tears pool in your eyes and Charles frowns, cutting the engine and climbing out so he can hug you. He only admits it to his mother, but holding you is just as good a driving when he’s driving on the track with a car that responds to his every command.

(And what he won’t admit to anyone is that if holding you feels like that, then kissing you must feel like he’s just won a world championship.)

“Ma cherie,” he whispers, pulling your body into his own and stroking your hair to soothe you. He doesn’t ask any questions, which you’re grateful for, you don’t actually know what’s wrong other than everything is just too much and him showing up makes you feel safe enough to let it all out.

When you’ve finally slowed your breathing and made yourself relax he pulls away, looking at you with so much love in his eyes that you’re not sure if you’re dreaming. “Now you know what it felt like to drive under Binnotto.”

The comment is a shock and it makes you snort, which is what Charles was going for. Your laugh that he thinks could make him smile even in the darkest moods. “You can’t say that Mr. Ferrari.” You smack his chest while shaking your head, but the rueful smile on your face tells him that you still haven’t gotten over the team principle screwing him over.

Then the smile eases into something much more natural, and he knows the tense moment has passed. “Takeout?” he suggests, ushering you to the passenger side of his car. You nod at him and he’s pretty sure that he would do anything to make you smile.

3. Charles picks you up for a spontaneous lunch date

The next day it’s he who calls you, but you still an answer on the first ring.

(You’ve dedicated a Måneskin song as his ringtone so you always know when he’s calling)

(He made your ringtone a Mika song after you dragged him to a concert)

“Charles,” you answer, confusion in your tone.

“Ma cherie!” he sounds excited and you can’t help but want to follow him anywhere he goes when he sounds like that.

“Is everything alright?” You ask it this time, because shouldn’t he be packing for a race now?

“I’m outside, we’re going to spend the day on the water.” After leaving your home last night, Charles decided that you needed a pick me up, and what better way but to spend a few hours lounging around on his yacht, soaking up the sun and enjoying each other’s company.

(No one else would be there, but this wasn’t a date.)

(Seriously Arthur, it wasn’t a date.)

You spare a glance around your room, laundry begging to be done and dishes waiting to be washed. Yeah, you could use a day away from chores.

“Let me grab a bag,” you tell him, already throwing more clothes around the room in search of your favorite bathing suit. He hums through the speaker and you put your phone down to keep searching for the bathing suit. It was your favorite red crossover one piece and you be damned if you didn’t wear it today, anything to manifest a Ferrari win.

When you finally manage to find it, in the pile of clean but not put away laundry, you pick your phone back up and tell Charles you’ll be right down.

In two minutes you’re out the door of apartment, eyes landing on Charles leaning against his car. He looks so handsome with the windswept hair and Ray-bans on, you really have to wonder why he’s spending the afternoon with you and not some model he met in a garage.

(He’d say it’s because it’s the weekend before a race and this is a tradition, spending the afternoon with you before he leaves is the only way to ward off bad luck.)

(Seriously, before the Netherlands race last year you'd been unable to make it because of a bad cold and he had to retire the car that race, so safe to say you were forced to the boat, or his apartment, or he came over before the plane every time after that.)

Maybe the question is what would he do without you?

4. Charles picks you up from a girl’s night

This time Charles doesn’t pick up on the first ring, in fact, he barely makes it to the phone in time to answer. That’s because it’s not you who is calling, but rather a friend.

You and few girl friends had decided on a girls night out for one of them going through a bad break up, but after a few pregame shots and then drinks at this club, you were pretty intoxicated.

Looking for your group after coming back from the bathroom and the bar, you had spotted Lando and Max across the room, which made you think about Charles.

(Not that he ever really left your mind.)

And when you think about Charles, you wonder where he is, so you went to your friends. Both their faces lit up when they saw you, indicating that they were also not sober. After a quick hug for both of them you turn to survey the rest of the bar, looking for your Monagasque. 

“He’s not here!” shouts Max, trying to be heard over the noise. Your shoulders drop, turning back to the two racers with a pout on your lips.

“Where is he?” you ask, trying to seem nonchalant, but drunk you can’t hide her feelings as easily as sober you.

(Many would argue that sober you can’t hide her feelings easily either, but all that matters is that Charles doesn’t find out. And since he’s too occupied in hiding his also obvious feelings, you’re both oblivious to the other’s pining.)

Lando says that Charles stayed at home, something about playing the piano and having an early night was more tempting than drinks. The real reason being that if Charles went out he would not have been able to stop thinking about you and your potential suitors, which would lead to him drinking to forget. He was not up for another heartbreak hangover.

Your eyes light up at the mention of Charles playing the piano, sitting down in the booth with them. “Oh! I bet it’s going to sound wonderful!” Both drivers roll their eyes, and to their disappointment, you’re not drunk enough to miss it. “You don’t like his music?” The accusation in your tone makes them readjust their face. It’s not that they don’t like his compositions, it’s just that when Charles explains them, it’s almost always about how you looked on a certain day and he just was so inspired he had to put something down. They’re really tired of the back and forth between you too.

You begin your speech on how talented Charles is at the piano, which then morphs into how talented he is as a driver, and then as a person. It all turns into a ramble about how proud you are of him, something they’ve all heard before.

When you’ve somehow made it to Leo and how Charles chose the perfect puppy, the man himself shows up.

“Ma cherie,” he interjects, placing a hand on your shoulder to get your attention. You turn towards him, and Max swears that there should be cartoon hearts in your eyes.

“Charles!” you yell, wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug. “What are you doing here?” You’re slightly too loud for being in his arms, but he doesn’t care if you yell his ear off, it’s still you.

“Max said you were ready to come home.” Your brows furrow at that, because you don’t remember ever saying that, or even Max disappearing to call Charles, but you can’t be mad at him showing up.

“One more drink?” you ask, eyes pleading with him. Charles shakes his head, he can feel how much he’s supporting your weight even while sitting and knows that any more alcohol will likely end with you tripping over yourself.

“Water,” he answers and you’ve agreed to the words coming out of his mouth because it’s Charles, and he’ll never steer you wrong.

Charles heads to the bar to grab a water, running into your group of friends there. He tells them your status and that’ll he’ll be taking you home after this drink. They all nod along, most of them predicting that the night would end like this: Charles showing up and driving you home.

When it’s finally time to leave and Charles has ushered you out of the packed club into his Pista, you remember that you came here with a completely different group. “The girls!”

“Don’t worry, ma cherie, I saw them before we left and told them I’d take you home.” The gentle smile on his face is enough to put one on yours. Where would you be without him, indeed.

+ 1. You pick Charles up from the airport

You’ve got a new car now, thanks to Charles, and since he needs to be picked up from the airport, you’ve decided to take it for a nice spin. The roads are relatively clear for the drive, and you’re there in the usual 30 minutes. That makes you early for Charles, but you take the time to work out what you’re going to say to him.

Before you get out of the car you text him your location, so that he can head right out and find you, rather than you going into the terminal to look for him. He always was better at finding you.

The last night out had not only ended with Charles taking you home, but with a revelation. You couldn’t keep living like this. Loving him so much and not telling him was suffocating. It made you feel like you were on the edge of a cliff with nothing to keep you safe, and you were tired of it. So the question was, how did you tell him.

“Charles, I’ve been in love with you for ages,” you said, but shook your head. That didn’t sound right.

“Charles, I have to tell you something really important. I think I’m in love with you.” No, you shook your head again and groaned. “I don’t think I’m in love with him, I know I am.”

“Charles, you’re the most important person in my life, I don’t know what I’d do with out you.” Okay, solid start, you might have something with that.

“Charles light of my life.” No. “That’s too cheesy.”

“God, I wish I could put into words how much you mean to me. I love you so much I don’t know what to do with myself most of the time. It’s like I need to feel you to be able to breathe properly. All I really ever need is for you to look and smile at me and I’ll know that everything will be alright. I can get through anything with you there. If you love someone else it would break my heart, but knowing that you’re happy is all I need to be okay. I’d live with the thought of you loving someone else, because if they made you as happy and good as I feel, then there’s nothing more I could ask for.” Yeah, that sounded-

“Well it’s a good thing I love you too.”

You screamed, turning around to see Charles behind you in all his glory. Black sweatshirt and baggy jeans, hair messy like he ran his hand through it multiple times.

“How long have you been there?” you asked, face turning red enough to rival Ferrari.

“At Charles, light of my life.” He shrugged, like you hadn’t just bared your soul out to him. “Though, I disagree, it’s not too cheesy.” Could you get any redder? Feels like this is as red as a human being could get before self-combusting.

He’s just standing there, with a dopey smile on his face that you want to kiss, but you can’t. Something is holding you to the spot. You force yourself to say something. “Can you say something else?”

“Like what?”

“Anything else, I feel like I’m going to explode if you don’t say something.”

“Thanks for coming to pick me up.” He adds a shrug to the end and you narrow your eyes.

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

“Oh, you want me to say that I love you too.”

“I don’t want you to say it if you don’t mean it.” If you were a kid you’d add a stomp to the end, as if you were throwing a temper tantrum. He furrows his brow like he’s confused and still you want to kiss him senseless.

“Well, I mean it.”

Now you’re the one confused. “What?”

“I love you too, and I don’t think I’d be okay if you loved someone else as much as I love you. Because I’m selfish and a terrible man and I want you all to myself.” He shakes his head. “I need you all to myself,” he corrects. “You’re the love of my life and if I wasn’t yours then I don’t think I could go on. But you said you do love me, so everything is so much easier now.” Each sentence is punctuated with a step closer, until he’s just a few inches from you, like he needs you to take the last step. You do, without hesitation, because you really would do anything for him.

Eyes glancing at his lips and back, you catch him doing the same thing. “I love you more than anything in this world. I’d give up racing if you asked, I do anything for you.”

Another glance at his lips. “I’d never ask that of you, Charles. But, I love you too, and I’d do anything for you.” His smile at those words would normally catch you off guard, like you’d stop breathing at it, but somehow it just makes everything easier right now. So you kiss him.

Leaning forward those last few inches to grab his shoulders and pull him down so you can kiss him with as much love as you can muster. If words can’t explain how much you love him then maybe kissing him will convey it. That you love him more than words, actions and thoughts can combine. You love him.

(And he loves you.)

[cherisheye]

☆ first semester of uni - update☆

i meant to make this post a month ago but i ended getting caught up in other things, but! now that my second term of uni has started it made sense to write a review of this past semester, if only for records sake :)

☆ i ended up very pleasantly surprised with how well i did this semester. i was very worried at the start of the term, because i realized that i had such a weaker foundation on many subjects compared to my classmates - but, not only did i manage to get past that, i also did incredibly well on my classes! i'm so proud of myself for that, all my efforts paid off! of course, i still have trouble with many things, but i hope to tackle those in this new semester

☆ if there's one thing i hope to improve, though, is just to plan and schedule things better, more so i can avoid cramming and burning out. i also hope i can do more social things, if possible. i spent 90% of my time so focused on writing and studying i barely hung out with anyone except for my roommate :')

goals for this next semester:

☆ organize my studies in some sort of method or routine (god. I'll need it *side-eyes the syllabus with a million trillion exams*)

☆ try to get closer to the few friends i have made so far, talk more about my personal life rather than just studies with them, hang out with them outside of classes

☆ put more effort into grasping physics

☆ begin to look into research projects and maybe talk to a few professors, network

☆ take on artistic projects that are more low-stakes (no deadline is a start)

thoughts on the classes i've had so far below the read more:

☆ calculus i - surprisingly, i actually rather enjoyed this class. my professor was amazing and he did a great job of teaching. that is not to say it was easy. god no. but i think i actually learned a lot, and it did make me excited about calculus! - final grade: 100% (thank god for extra credit)

☆ linear algebra for chemistry - i did not enjoy this class. i struggled hard with this subject, but it was manageable, and i even liked it at times. the problem was that the professor just did not click with me. i had to decipher everything he taught after class, and unfortunately, i lacked a lot of basic knowledge that would've helped. i had to spend so much time filling in the gaps.by far the class i struggled the most in, but i can say that i got through it :') - final grade: 92%

☆ general chemistry i - i loved the subject, unfortunately the classes were a bit hard to get through (boring). i struggled at times but it was that satisfying sort of struggle you know? where you feel like you're learning something? yeah. the professor was an absolute sweetheart though and i loved hearing about his research project - final grade: 99%

☆ basic chemistry - nothing much to say about it, it was an online class - i kept up with it until halfway through the semester, then i gave up. but i took the exams and did well anyway. my chemistry technical course served me well here gdjtdstursu - final grade: 96%

☆ general chemistry lab i - i really loved this class. i loved going to the lab and thought the experiments they picked were great. i faltered a little with some lab reports but i guess i have to get more practice writing them. ps.: the TAs were incredible - final grade: 93%

☆ fundamentals of experimental chemistry lab - i liked this lab a little less. it was still enjoyable, but i had way more trouble with the lab reports in this class :') - final grade: 81%

☆ physics lab - i did not like this class at all. all the experiments were boring at best and infuriating at worst. the lab reports were so intricate it was insane. the only part i enjoyed was that the professor actually explained the concepts pretty well (even i got it even if i have trouble with physics) and i got to group with my friends - final grade: 86%

[dylan-lenivy-appreciation-day]

I just saw your post on how smart Dylan is to be able to study quantum physics and I'm wondering on when do you think the other counsellors (aside from Ryan) would find out? And do you think that he ever goes on these tangents about it and everyone is so confused, but they let him ramble cause they know how happy it makes him?

hmmm this is a cute concept.

I think Nick knew just from context clues. They spent a lot of time together and Nick could tell he was smarter than he pretended to be. Every now and then he'd say something that made Nick go 🤔 like Dylan definitely went on a tiny tangent before catching himself and Nick didn't bring attention to it bc I think Dylan and Nick are similar like that 😌 so when it was eventually revealed Nick just goes "Wow I knew you were smart but I didn't know you were smart-smart."

I feel like Kaitlyn suspected it. She would talk to Dylan sometimes during camp then after she would think about the interaction like "that boy's hiding something." And at first she has no idea, but then he off handedly uses some physics theory to win an argument and Kaitlyn just goes "I fucking knew it! you're a goddamn nerd". Then they start this whole little dramatic fake soap opera argument bc they're besties.

Kaitlyn: you were hiding this under my nose...this whole time...

Dylan: I swear I was going to tell you! I just...needed time. [clenches fist]

Ryan is standing off to the side like "Why do I like these people?"

Jacob doesn't believe it. Nick or Kaitlyn mentions it and Jacob laughs and goes "Pff. That idiot? Please." Then Nick and Kaitlyn find Dylan and get him to say something smart so he just starts explaining the process of energy and the law of thermodynamics and Jacobs face just slowly goes dumbfounded. He accuses them of pranking him and says shit like "you could literally be making stuff up and I wouldn't know." And it takes Dylan sitting Jacob down and having a heart to heart about how he lied to him and they bro it out. At some point Jacob asks Dylan to help him fix his resume

I feel like Abi's just super cute about it. She's surprised at first but then she asks him questions because she's interested and does her best to follow along when Dylan talks about it. But Dylan's good at explaining it in an easy to understand way.

Emma doesn't really care about it. She thinks it's cool and texts him when she needs homework help but the part she mainly cared about was him hiding it all camp and she just goes "Hah lmao fucking same, up top." And they bond over their camp personas

Max and Laura aren't surprised because they meet him when he drops the persona so they just get the genuine nerd experience.

[angstysebfan]

The Past Can Break You - 4

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

AU: Avengers

Summary: You and Bucky have been dating for aa few years. As far as you’re concerned he is the one. But what happens when a blast from the actual past shows up?

A/N: Ive seen a lot stories of Bucky getting his first love from the 40′s back. And I’ve always wondered... what would happen if he was dating someone already? Reader is from this time. Not proofread.

Warning: honestly probably not the best ive written... sorry

--

It’s been almost a week since you told Bucky you needed space. You have barely come out of your room, because you didn’t want to see him, and especially her. You wonder if this is really the end of your relationship. You are grateful that he has given you space, and according to Nat, he hasn’t gone near Dot. Dot has been spending a lot of time down in the lab with Tony. Wanting to learn about technology. Good luck to her.

Over the last few days you have been waking up to soft knocking on your door. You go to open the door and find a single red rose with no note. You figure it is Bucky, and while it makes your heart flutter, you force yourself to leave in on your dresser. As you walk down to the kitchen to eat breakfast you see Nat sitting at the counter.

“Morning, Nat,” you say quietly.

She smiles softly at you, “Morning. How are you feeling?” she asks.

You shrug as you continue making your coffee and grab your fixings for cereal. When you turn around you see Bucky sleepily walk into the kitchen. You look at the bags under his eyes and he stops short and stares at you. You feel your heart break when you know that he doesn’t sleep well without you. 

“Morning, Doll,” he says, completely ignoring Nat’s existence.

“Good morning Bucky,” you say. You decide to take your breakfast to go and shuffle around him as he walks further into the room. You stop and turn to look at him again, “Thank you for the roses. They are beautiful, “ you say before leaving.

Bucky sighs heavily when you leave and looks at Nat. “God I hope this works. I can’t live like this much longer, Nat. I miss her so goddamn much,” he says as he puts his face in his hands. 

“Barnes man up. This will work. She commented on the roses. She is hurt and doesn’t trust you, which you can’t blame her for. But the fact that she thanked you, tells me that she appreciates you putting in the effort. It’s time to do this. Let her know that you are serious about making her a priority. Now I bought everything. You go get ready and I will get her there, okay?” She says.

Bucky nods and heads out of the kitchen to get ready. He hopes that this will work. He is hoping that if anything it will show you how much he loves you and how much he wants to be with you. But he would be lying if he said he wasn’t nervous that you will reject him also. But Nat seems to think this will work, so we will see.

--

You are sitting on your bed, watching Netflix when there is a knock on your door. You call for them to enter and see Nat walk through the door. She walks over and sits on your bed.

“Hey honey, how are you holding up?” she asks as she sits.

You shrug, hugging yourself. “I-I miss him. But I’m still mad at him. But I want to talk to him. But I’m scared that it will end,” you say.

Nat pulls you into a hug, “Honey, I promise he has been moping in his room all week. I don’t think he has gone near her once. Steve has been watching over her, and she has been spending a lot of time in the lab, which is weird, but whatever. He told her he was done and he meant it. Talk to him,” she says.

You can’t help the tears, “Has be been... okay?” you ask.

“He misses you. He wants to make it up to you. Are you ready to hear him out, and have a conversation with him?” Nat asked.

You sigh and think about whether or not you are ready. You look at her and node slowly, causing her to smile. “Good. I was hoping that would be your answer. Now get up and put...” she ran to the bedroom door and grabs a box from the hallway she left there, bringing it back to the bed. “This on. I’ll meet you in the garage in 1 hour,” she says before leaving. You open the box and gasp.

--

When Nat pulls up to the edge of Central Park, you look at her in question. She nods telling you to go ahead. You get out of the car and start walking down the path. As you get closer to the clearing, you hear light music. You continue walking and finally enter the clearing where you recognize you had your first date with Bucky. You look around and see roses everywhere and candles, along with music.

Finally your eyes meet Bucky, who is standing in the middle of open space. He is wearing a navy blue suit, that matches your navy blue dress that Nat gave you. He has shaved his beard to some light scruff, that makes you swoon. His hair is cut short, and looks so soft. You see he is nervous as he waits for you to make a move.

“Hi Bucky,” you say. 

He sighs and gives you a small smile, “Hi baby. I’m glad you came,” he says as he steps up to you with another rose in his hand.

He hands it to you, which causes you to smile, “Well Nat didn’t exactly give me much of a choice,” you say.

He laughs, “Yea, she has been helping me set up all of this. I’m so glad you are here. I-I wanted to... I... Baby, I can’t even find the words to apologize for being such an ass. But I’m done. I told Dot she had to deal with things herself. I told her that you were the one I want. And, I haven’t seen her since. I know that it will take a lot more than a date and begging to get you to forgive me, but I hope that we can recreate our first date because I fell in love with you that night. Not that I am expecting anything, but I owed you, and--”

You cut Bucky off with you lips slotting on his. He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you impossibly close. “Bucky, I’m ready to talk. I’m ready to fix this. I’ve missed you. I love you so much, and the fact that you are doing all of this, means so much to me. This isn’t going to fix everything, but I’m ready to talk,” you say.

Bucky leads you to the table and you both sit and talk about the situation. You talk about your fears and how you felt when Dot arrived. You expressed how his actions affected you, and Bucky took everything in stride. When you finally finished going through everything, Bucky then told you how the last thing he wanted was to hurt you. He felt that he owed it Dot, because he knows how scary it is to wake up in a different time. And while he used to have love for Dot, the moment he met you and started to date you, Dot no longer held his heart. Only you. 

He told you that he will never put anything ahead of you or your relationship again. After you both agreed you will move back into your room, but Bucky still has a lot of things to make up for. You then danced the night away under the stars. You both eventually make your way back to your shared apartment. Bucky surprised you with new lingerie, the same pair he ruined that night. You got a redo of that date night, and this time, Bucky made sure you had several more orgasms, before finishing himself. No interruptions, no ex’s, just the two of you reclaiming your love on each other.

--

Dot had been trying to figure out what she could do to split you and Bucky up for good. She knew you would be pathetic and fall for his charms again, just like all the girls from back in the day. She had to step up her game in this century though, and who better to learn from then one of the smartest men who happen to live in the compound also.

She started to spend time with Tony to learn the ins and outs of technology in the 21st century. He also taught Dot how utilize FRIDAY. showed her all the fun and cool thing that no one cared to know. Dot made sure she seemed completely excited and interested, which helped Tony’s ego and gave her more information. Eventually Dot figured out something that she could use. 

She smiled when she saw both you and Bucky going into shared apartment after your date. While she hated the idea of you and Bucky together, she knew that she could use her new knowledge against you. And now was the perfect time to put that in motion.

--

Chapter 3 / Chapter 5

Not 100% how I feel about this chapter. I felt like it was getting too long so I cut it, but maybe I shouldn’t have. So I’m sorry if it’s not as good. But DRAMA ALERT!! What is Dot going to do? Feedback is appreciated!

Permanent Taglist:  @hailmary-yramliah @tuiccim @comedictragedy @cap-n-stuff @thefridgeismybestie @swiftmind @aleaisntcreative @lookiamtrying @pinknerdpanda @morganclaire4 @iamvalentinaconstanza @verygraphicink @im-squished @joannie95 @peace-love-hobbitness @connie326 @amandamdiehl @harrysthiccthighss @its-izzys @roserose26 @rebekahdawkins @elegantobservationstudentsblog @broco8 @shinykoalacat @white-wolf1940 @jessyballet

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[shurelyasreverie]

Ezreal, Kayn, Yone Reverse AU Headcanons (100 Followers Special)

The title was the easiest way I could put it, but it's headcanons for an AU where Ezreal/Kayn/Yone are league players and the reader is a playable champion in the game. Thank you so much everyone for a hundred followers! I hope you'll accept this post as a small gift of thanks. I also find Reverse AUs a super fun concept so lemme know if you want more posts like this

Ezreal

(I just had to do him, there's no content for him and his voice actor is literally a host on League Proguides asldkfjad)

Ezreal's been playing League since the earlier seasons and ever since he was allowed to get his hands on a computer. He essentially knows the ins and outs of the game and is a die hard fan

Despite having good knowledge and skill with all champs, there was something about you and your abilities that Ezreal loved. After one game he already had a perfect feel of your champion and managed to get a triple (maybe even quadra) kill. He knew you were the next one to main

Give it a week, two max and he had Mastery 7 on you with minimum mastery points. Give it a month and you'll be the champion that he's played the most out of all time

He loves playing you but if you're ever banned, he'll accept that he'll have to play another champ. But if the enemy team has you, he feels unhealthily guilty every time he sends you respawning back at the fountain

Ezreal also loves to geek out on the lore. He's read up on everything about you, your biography, your short stories and he's watched all the cinematics you're included in. He's searched for your fanart and has probably set you as his wallpaper on his computer. In his settings, the voice line volume is maxed out, he loves hearing your monologues or interactions with other champions

A shameless simp. He's ended up crushing on you and he's going to embrace it. He's read all the self insert content for you and has probably written his own. He also gets pouty about any other champ that canonically gets to interact with you in the lore

He is a shameless but also a broke simp. He hasn't bought your skins but he's managed to gain a couple through Hextech chests and many, many rerolls

If you're selected for a music project like K/DA or True Damage, someone save Ezreal's heart because he's not going to be able to handle it. He’s bought the album, he’s learnt the lyrics and he’s learning the dances

Kayn

Kayn is a pretty tryhard player. He was previously dedicated to another game and only played League casually, but when you were released as a new champion, Kayn made the switch to focus on League. Your abilities just worked so well with his playstyle, give it enough time for him to perfect his skills and he could tell that he would be able to 1v5 the entire enemy team with you

After many months, Kayn's now known as a dedicated (Y/N) one-trick pony. If he streams or has a YouTube channel he's probably going to hold the title for the best (Y/N)-player in the region. Every kill and outplay he's flexing his Level 7 mastery and eternals

If you get banned, Kayn is straight up dodging, he doesn't care how long the wait time for the next game will be. Does he get autofilled into a role you're not made for? No problem, change the runes and itemisation and he's all good to play you

The only times he’s not playing you is if it’s a special game mode (like ARAM or One for All) or if he’s playing with friends and trying dumb strategies. But even then you can bet he’ll be thinking how much easier his game would be if he just selected you

If the enemy team has you in their composition, he’ll be a complete savage and tear the enemy apart on their lack of technique with you. He can see all the mistakes and errors, only solidifying how he’s the best (Y/N) player

Kayn never really took much interest in the lore of League but once you were released, he checked it out. He thinks the entire lore is too convoluted to follow as a whole but he’s keeping tabs on anything you’re involved in. He'll never admit it but he isn't particularly happy if you have a significant other in lore

He has bought all your skins and chromas. Even the legacy and hextech skins he's spent his money to get his hands on one way or another. Despite this, he actually likes playing with your default skin sometimes. It expresses your lore and personality best and it also makes him feel nostalgic

Kayn couldn't care less if people flame him personally but if anyone flames you as a “dumb” or “brainless champ” then to Kayn they've pretty much asked for death. He can be extremely savage and toxic if he wants to be, it's almost like he's another person. If his account gets banned, he doesn't care. He'll just start a new one. He’s defended you and that’s what matters

Yone

Yone is like an old man with technology. He would only play League casually but he's quite passionate about all the theory and techniques involved in the game. He knows all the concepts and what all the champions can do but he just can't seem to connect his mind and fingers so he ends up as a rather average League player

That all changed when he tried to play you, however. Even though you weren't the easiest champion to play, you were the easiest to understand to him. Whenever he played you, he was able to display just how much knowledge he had of the game and his win rate soared. It took some time but you were the first – and only – champion he has a Mastery 7 on

Yone appreciates all the content relating to you as it was clear how much time and effort was put into your design, gameplay and lore. Your biography in Runeterra is extremely entertaining, your splash art is phenomenal with lots of hidden symbolism and foreshadowing to your lore and your voice lines in-game compliment your personality perfectly. He also goes out of his way to listen to your cinematic theme song, it's absolutely beautiful to him

You are by far Yone's favourite champ to listen to. While all the other champions trash talk and roast their enemies, you were respectful but confident when up against the enemy team, but could be savage if you witnessed any injustice, much like Yone's attitude when he plays League

When you were a part of the Spirit Blossom event (or if you have a skin with a similar aesthetic to it), Yone’s heart raced when he first laid his eyes on your splash heart. He had a complete internal panic, he’s never felt this way for a game character before, was this normal? If you were also part of Spirit Blossom’s dating sim or something similar, Yone would act as though he is completely unphased by the event, playing your route with a straight face (but his cheeks burning red)

The instant he heard of Yone's fondness of you, Yasuo gifted him with an official figurine of you. It was rather embarrassing and Yone keeps it away from prying eyes, but he'd be lying if he said he didn't like it

Your characterisation is so expertly done, it makes you so realistic and Yone can't help but let his mind wander sometimes and imagine what life would be like if you were real. You'd undoubtedly be good friends, perhaps even more, he’ll never truly know

[arctichotch]

spencer reid x gn!reader fluff alphabet

feel free to send more requests! 

A = Admiration (what do they absolutely adore about you?)

there is not a single thing about you that spencer doesn’t adore about you tbh but he loves how you love him if that makes sense?? he loves that you’re like one of the first people in his life that he’s met that actually listen to him and don’t interrupt him when he starts spewing information out

B = Body (what is their favorite part of your body?)

he loves your lips tbh he just likes to kiss them and then when you’re not kissing he likes to think about kissing you

C = Cuddling (how do they like to cuddle?)

this man is a mad man for cuddling. he’s like a cuddle addict. any way he can have you securely in his arms is what he likes. but he does particularly enjoy having you tucked into his side with his arm around your shoulders and yours around his waist. he thinks this position is perfect.

D = Dates (what does their ideal date with you look like?)

he likes to go out to some little hole in the wall restaurant where he knows it will be nice and quiet. then after dinner he likes to take you out for a nice walk where the two of you talk about anything and everything

E = Emotions (how do they express emotion around you?)

he tries to be as open as possible with you. spencer being spencer has read a lot about relationships and is well aware of how important communication is in a relationship. he couldn’t bare ever losing you so if something is going on he makes an effort to talk to you about it

F = Family (do they want one? If they do, when?)

spencer would love kids. he has 100% day dreamed about your future together with little kids running around

G = Gifts (how do they feel about gift giving? What are their habits when it comes to this?)

he loves to give meaningful gifts. he remembers early on into your relationship when you got him a first edition print of a book he had been talking about for months and he remembers how he felt like his heart was going to burst. so he definitely tries to give as much as he can to you. he is a king at birthday gifts.

but to him, gifts have to have some kind of meaning. he’s not a materialistic kind of guy.

H = Holding Hands (when/how do they like to hold hands?)

spencer’s hands are *so* big so when you’re holding hands with him his hands completely envelop yours. he likes to always be holding your hands. in the elevator on your way to the bau office? he’s got your hand. walking down the street? he’s got your hand. it makes him feel safe

I = Injury (how would they act if you got hurt?)

spencer would be a total mess. he’s lost so much and can’t comprehend a world without you in it. so yeah he’s a mess. constantly going over statistics in his mind until someone nearly has to slap him out of his own mind. 

J = Jokes (do they like to joke around with or prank you? how?)

if you are shorter than him then he likes to pat you on the head as a joke or hold things above him until you give him a kiss to earn it back.

if you are the same height/taller than him, he likes to sneak up behind you and wrap you in his arms. it always makes you jump a bit but as time has gone on you’ve learned to hear him come.

he also likes to show you his physics magic and wow you with that.

K = Kisses (how do they like to kiss you?)

spencer loves a good spur of the moment kiss. loves to kiss you on the jet when no one else has arrived yet. loves to kiss you just as the elevator doors are about to open. he just loves kissing you. it’s like he needs it as much as he needs to breathe.

L = Love (how do they show you they love you?)

everything spencer does is with his love for you in his mind. dangerous unsub? he will make an effort to keep an eye on you even more than usual. he loves to show you things from his childhood like books he liked to read. he loves making dinner for you and surprising you with things like that.

M = Memory (favorite memory together?)

probably one of your few days off from work when you were both in his apartment cuddled on the couch. you watching tv or reading and him reading a book. he remembers in that moment feeling like everything in his life had finally come together.

N = Nightmare (what is their worst fear?)

losing you. spencer is no stranger to loss but to lose you? he doesn’t think he could ever recover from that

O = Oddity (what is one quirk they have?)

well... i mean it’s spencer. the man is made up of perfect quirks. but probably how excited he gets when reciting one of the numerous facts he has in his big brain.

P = Pet Names (what do they like to call you?)

he calls you by your nickname for the most part but he also sometimes comes up with random nicknames of cute things he sees. like that one week when all he did was call you duck.

you call him spence or babe which always makes him blush.

Q = Quality Time (how do they like to spend time with you?)

he loves reading with you. on the couch or in bed in one of your apartments. could be different books or the same one, either way he loves it. if you’re sharing a book, he obviously reads the page a lot faster than you and in that time while he’s waiting to change the page he loves to watch you. he just loves you.

R = Rhythm (what song reminds you of them?)

falling in love by cigarettes after sex

S = Secrets (how open are they with you?)

as i said in ‘Emotions,’ spencer tries to be as open as possible with you. he doesn’t like secrets because he knows they only lead to negative outcomes.

T = Time (how long did it take you to get together?)

it took a good while for you both to realise that there were feelings there that were more than just best friends. it seems everyone else knew before you. and when you both finally did realise there were feelings there, it took another while before you actually acted on them

U = Upset (how do they act when you’re upset?)

spencer being spencer notices immediately when you feel upset. the smallest things let him know. and he hates it. he never wants you to feel sad so he will do anything he can to help you feel better. a favourite of his is to run you a nice, hot bath and make your favourite dinner. then spend the evening cuddling together. he’ll always try to get you to talk through whatever upset you.

V = Vaunt (what are they proud of? Do they like to show you off?)

spencer is quite modest for a genius. he doesn’t like to flaunt how smart he is, or how young he was getting into the FBI. the only thing he ever shows off is his knowledge of everything but you don’t even think he realises when he does it.

W = Warrior (how do they feel about you fighting? Would they fight for you, beside you, etc?)

he’d fight for you and with you any day. for the rest of your lives together.

X = X-Ray (how well are they able to read you?)

spencer can tell when the slightest things is off with you and he can tell when you are feeling positive. he just knows you so well. he has known you for ages and is very in tune with your feelings.

Y = Yes (how would they propose to you?)

i think he would be nervous which would lead to him spouting off different facts about marriage. “did you know 50% of marriages end in divorce?” and you’ll laugh because where did that come from? then he pulls out a ring. “wanna be in the other 50% with me?”

Z = Zen (what makes them feel calm?)

you. just simply being in your presence makes him feel calm. he feels his heart rate slow and his mind calm down. you are all he needs to feel calm and relaxed.

[mcmactictac]

Hello hello I was randomly thinking about this as I was at work and I’m finally getting a chance to write it this is gonna be a long one folks buckle up today we’re talking about the hunger games, and specifically the “love triangle”

I’ve watched/read the series throughout various points in my life and my opinions have always changed slightly as I grow older and gain more knowledge. I personally see Katniss as aro/ace, I think it makes sense for her character. I’m not really qualified to talk about that but I have seen some people in that community do a wonderful job explaining it. So with that in mind I’m looking at this through a more practical lense, who compliments her personality and needs best.

Now I have always stood by that at the very beginning of the series, Gale and Katniss made sense. They were on the same wave length, they survived off each other and made good sense. If they had actually decided to run off before the games, they would have worked. But as soon as Katniss comes back from the games, it all goes to shit. Because she’s no longer on that wavelength with Gale. He doesnt understand and he never will. And during the games Peeta was the person she “survived” off of. Yes she carried them but they were in it together for a while you know?

Now she doesn’t really trust Peeta yet. I mean yeah she likes him, she put in the effort to help him but she doesn’t have that connection she had with Gale at the start. And you have to keep in mind that the games were really not that long. Katniss and Peeta hadn’t spent that much time together before the games ended. So although they are intensely bonded out of trauma and necessity, once shes out of that situation she tries to detach. But you can’t go back to how it was before. Suddenly you’ve killed people and you almost died and you lost people and it’s intensely traumatic. Katniss never wanted to show off, it was all about practicality and survival. And you come back different than before, with the guy you spent so much time with interpreting your actions wrong. He wants conflict. He invites it for the “greater good”. Katniss really doesn’t want to cause more fighting. She has already fought enough. And Peeta is the only other person (besides Haymitch) who knows what the games are really like. And her and Peeta will always share that burden together.

Like Katniss, Peeta never wants conflict. He’s smart and he can get what he wants in other ways. Without him admitting his crush on Katniss in the first book, he likely would have died. He can get closer to what he wants without hurting people. He only volunteered in the Quarter Quell to protect Katniss, not because he wanted to go in and prove something. He fully intended to die so that she can live. He’s fiercely loyal and understands in a way no one else ever could. Even after mockingjay, at his core those qualities are still there.

Gale is a raging fire full of heat and passion, Peeta is the gentle warmth of a fireplace. Gale leads with practicality and Peeta leads more with his heart. Gale is the sharp sting of wind on a winter morning as it freezes your skin, Peeta is the warmth of natural sunlight in the summer. For a long time, Gale guaranteed safety. But after the games, that wasn’t true anymore and especially after Mockingjay with Prim. Gale is 100% responsible for that. In a war situation, it’s a good move. A really really low blow, but effective and he knew that. He spends so much time wrapped in his anger and his determination to do what’s right he loses his empathy along the way.

Katniss wants safety. She doesn’t want to fight, she doesnt want to run anymore. Gale can’t give her the stability, the safety, the comfort that she so desperately needs. But Peeta can. He’s going through the exact same thing. “Choosing” Peeta promises stability snd understanding. Not having to fight. Just enjoy the peace and simplicity. Peeta makes sense because Gale is never going to understand her. She’s always going to feel isolated around him.

Peeta understands. He’s connected to her through their history, and they grew and changed together. Gale and Katniss grew apart as Peeta and Katniss grew together. At the end of the series the only “choice” for her is Peeta because she doesn’t trust Gale anymore. He isn’t safe, he isn’t the more peaceful life she wants anymore. He evolved and wants something different, and their values don’t line up any more. Peeta provides the soft warmth and compassion she needs.

That being said she doesn’t NEED anyone. But she does a shit job taking care of her own mental health, and Peeta would be able to help her with that in ways Gale can’t. Post everything, Peeta is a better support than Gale, despite Peeta being unstable himself.

That being said I was a Gale fan the first time I read the books like years ago but the older I get the more it’s like. They’d never work. They aren’t the same people they were at the start. After Katniss comes back from the first games they were never going to work because Gale was always focused on moving the revolution aspect forward, and not on the fact Katniss was in severe mental distress.

Katniss is perfectly capable of providing for herself, but she needs someone to support her emotionally as she works through her trauma. Peeta is the only person who can do that by the end because he’s the only one who understands and that she trusts. That’s all!!

[danielxricciardo]

Can you do one with Max, with 46 and 55 from angst list?

Summary: You are suffering from depression and Max tries to be by your side

Warnings: angst, swearing, mentions of suicide, depression

Word count: 3.6k+

46. “I’ll leave, and the world will move on. I just wish I could see it. See how much better everything is when I’m gone.”

55. “You’re good at finding things. Find me a reason to stay.”

Depression feels like a lot of things.

It feels like sadness, which is what everyone will tell you. It's a pretty common thread.

"I'm worthless."

"Everyone thinks I'm a horrible burden."

So on and so forth.

Everyone in the world is happy but you, and in the end, you are a worthless piece of shit that doesn't belong in this otherwise glorious and happy place. The sun is shining, the birds are chirping, and you are lying there on your bed in the same unlaundered pair of pajamas, wondering why you are even allowed to keep living any longer. Some meteor strikes or lightning bolts should be reserved for people like you because you are taking up space and oxygen and food and other resources that real, happy, productive people need.

It feels like emptiness. You have all these possibilities and none of them seem interesting. You could do some art, or play some music, but that just doesn't feel right. There's no joy in it. You could have sex with your significant other, but you can't muster up the desire. You could play video games, or read a book. But what's the point? There's no real benefit to all of it but passing the time. You could get up and make lunch. But no, you're not that hungry, and if you close your eyes, time will pass a little faster. You can lie there. That works. It doesn't require active effort to do something fruitless. Everything is as empty and fruitless as lying and staring out your window at the clouds and the shifting shadows of tree branches, and so why do anything else?

It feels like fatigue. Standing up out of your bed requires the same amount of bodily effort as climbing several flights of stairs. Managing to get dressed and walk outside is like running a race. Heaven helps you if you try to go to the store or a friend's house -- that may as well be on the other side of the continent. Every step is heavy. Every muscle motion requires ten times the work it used to. Exercise becomes difficult, and control over your body expires quickly. You become clumsier, so heavy lifting is right out. You daze out randomly, daydreaming, even dozing, so biking or running is hard. You feel most at home when you are entirely relaxed, so you lie down...and don't get up again until something like your bladder compels you.

It feels like a loss of control. You have no idea why your brain and body are doing this. You don't want to feel sad. Nobody wants to feel shitty and tired and empty all the time. People will look at you and say, "It's like you don't want to get better." Those people are idiots. You truly, deeply, from the bottom of your soul, have no idea why this has happened or what to do. It's not logical. It makes no sense. You woke up like this, or it crept in overtime or something like that. It's like a fog, a force of nature that sweeps in, occludes everything, and there's not one thing you can do about it from where you stand. Trying feels like taking a paper fan outside and trying to blow away the morning mist. Someone has tied puppet strings to your brain and is playing this hideous dance with it, and you don't have the scissors to cut them away. The dance doesn't make sense; it's arbitrary and rhythmless. If you had any sort of reasoning behind it, you could take control. But you don't.

It feels like desperation. You can't find a way out. You lie there at night, keening into your pillow like a wounded animal, making all sorts of noises that no human being should be able to make. You claw and scratch at the sheets, or at yourself, as the pain wrings itself out through bodily expression. The tears won't stop. You don't know why. All you know is that it hurts, it really and truly hurts, and you think if it goes on any longer, you're going to die. Right there. Bleed out on the floor. So you grab up your phone, and you call someone at 4 AM, and you beg them to please just make it stop. You bury yourself in books and movies because at least then you can imagine something else than yourself. You read nonstop. You have to have your fix. It's like an addiction, no, more like a life support machine. Otherworlds, fantasies of happiness, and real experiences that aren't your horrible existence become the iron lung keeping air flowing in and out. You are alive because you can stop thinking for a while. Your friends come over to comfort you. Their stories keep you sane and well, like dialysis for all the toxins in you. Your mind has failed at being independent, and now it relies on a thousand little machines to keep itself running. You rely on one machine until another comes to save you. You read books until your friends come by. You stretch out your time with friends until you have to bury yourself in a movie again just to keep the thought of real-life away.

It feels like untamed anger. Your friends can't keep this up forever. You fall further and further, and you eventually start dropping commitments. You have become That Person, the flake that everyone knows will back out. People start getting annoyed at you, annoyed at how they have to spend so much time just keeping you afloat, annoyed at how often you're causing them trouble by constantly disappearing and backing out of appointments, and so on. Your workplace gets annoyed at your lack of productivity. And then you can't take it anymore, and you want to scream at them, grab them by the throat and shake them because IT'S NOT YOUR FAULT! You start having twisted fantasies, the ones where you walk up to that person who keeps telling you he can't do this anymore, you're just too unreliable, putting a gun to your head and pulling the trigger. Just to make him know, for once, that FUCK HIM, your problems are REAL, DAMMIT, REAL, and he better FUCKING RESPECT that. And when you're gone, he'll fall to his knees and cry, and he'll say, he wishes he had understood, that he didn't mean to be so unkind, and the scar on his heart from his own failure will remain fresh and knotted for eternity. And then you shake yourself out of the daydream, and you wonder why you have turned into such a horrible person, someone who even considers ending their own life just to spite another human being. Then it creeps back in, the knowledge that the world is getting fed up with you...and the cycle begins again. You start thriving off these daydreams, because at the very least if you can't be happy, you can throw caution to the wind and get the petty, oddly satisfying revenge buried under all those layers of morality that are becoming worn and flaking away. It's just a fantasy, right? And it helps pass the time...

It feels like forever. You have forgotten what it's like to truly be joyful. You can imagine it, but it's not really you in those thoughts. This is who you are. This is your life. This is you.

It feels like you have only one thing truly under your power: your existence. You cannot choose what life throws at you. Your brain and body have betrayed you. Your friends have worn away, and you've fled from your job and any commitments you have.

It feels empowering. You can jump whenever you want.

But he accepted you the way you are. He never reproached you for negatively influencing his mentality or life, even though you knew he felt it too. He always listened to you, he was with you even at 2 in the morning when you were crying on the bathroom floor with your knees to your chest, and you knew it wasn't right. It wasn't right for him to go through, basically, what you were going through. But no matter how much you told him you could do it without his help, Max was coming back more insistently than ever.

He came up with the idea to start therapy. "You have to find out why you feel this way. Go at least once, see how it is, if you don't like it or feel that it doesn't help you, you will give up, okay?" That was a year and a half ago.

The psychologist gave you a diagnosis from the first session: Major Depressive Disorder. Sure you knew what the three words meant, but you didn't know what it meant to have a label on your condition.

"A major depressive disorder is characterized by one or more of these depressive episodes. the diagnosis of major depressive disorder requires depressed mood or anhedonia which is the loss of interest in pleasure and five or more signs or symptoms for the SIGECAPS mnemonic for a 2-week period. (SIGECAPS) Sleep Disturbance, loss of Interest, feeling Guilty, feeling fatigued and low in Energy, having decreased Concentration, decreased or increased Appetite and been agitated and slow and having Suicidal ideation."

It sounds incredible to you. Suicidal thoughts? Not everyone has a thought, somewhere, behind their mind 'What if I disappeared?'

You were prescribed Prozac and Zoloft and it helped. You weren't always sad anymore, you could go to the races with Max and support him as a normal girlfriend does. You apologized to my friends who tried to help me and whose lives you made impossible and you managed to get back to work, from home anyway. Sure, you still had moments when you felt like you weren't 100% yourself but not like before. You did therapy twice a week and the psychologist was happy with your evolution.

But being the stupid ass that you are, you stopped taking the medication. You took the last pill on Friday. Because you were fine. You felt ok, everyone around you told you you were better, you were doing amazing, so you were cured, right? Or so you thought. Saturday was normal. Sunday was not. Your mood and energy were very low. You woke up at like 2 in the afternoon. That is not unusual for you. You’re used to it. You were sad. You were exhausted. You knew that feeling like this was “no excuse” so you tried to force yourself to do it anyway. Typical of your life. You feel like you had already taken so much off work because of the triple-header, you were for three weeks attached to the hips with Max.

The only thing you thought of was dying. And that terrified you. And Max senses something was wrong. But he didn't want to tell something and ending up being wrong and you being upset by his misinterpretation. But, yes, he sensed that you were becoming your old self.

"Hey, babe," he snapped you out of your daydreaming. A tragic one, where you were finally at peace and Max was crying for you. You were on the verge of crying yourself at the mere image of Max in your head. But you pushed it far from your mind, somewhere in a dark corner for you to find it at an appropriate time to fantasize about your dying. "How about we go to a picnic? It's sunny outside."

Yes, the wheater was amazing. It was finally summer and you could go outside and spend some time with Max. But your brain literally is tricking you into thinking you don't deserve to enjoy the sunny day. Why? You don't have an answer.

"I'm not really in the mood, Max. Sorry."

You are not in the mood. That was his affirmation. You are not ok.

"You feeling good?"

"Yeah. Just tired I guess."

"But you just woke up."

You shrugged. He was right. You just woke up, so why do you feel like you were carrying a ton of bricks on your shoulders? You couldn't walk. You almost felt like 18 months ago. And that is when it hit you. And Max, at the same time.

"Still taking your meds, I hope."

Silence. Your mind was like overcrowded and you couldn’t take it anymore. You grabbed your head and pulled your hair because you wanted it to stop. You were thinking that you didn’t know what to think. You didn’t know how to think. You didn’t know how you felt. You were like anxious-depressed-angry-miserable-irritable all in one. Your head was spinning with thoughts. Thoughts were talking over thoughts. So fast that you couldn’t even make out one complete sentence. It was just too much for you to handle. You just wanted someone to kill you.

Max came to you and he hugged you so hard you thought he could crush your bones right there and then. You calmed down eventually. But now you were embarrassed. Because Max saw you, again, at your lowest. Because you promised you'll get better, and for a while, you were better, but now you are fucked and back into square one. All those money on therapy and your pills, for what? For you to stop taking them because you thought you were feeling better? Well, you definitely were not ok, nor you'll be. So, yeah, being fucked sounded good.

Max brought you the medicine and a glass of water. Taking the pills again? For what? The pills only fuel the feeling that everything is fine and that you are a normal person. Nothing was good and you were not a normal person.

But you took the pills. And you looked Max in the eyes and you wanted to die. He seemed crushed. He was sad, devastated, maybe angry but definitely disappointed. In you. Because maybe you don't realize this, but while you were doing good, he was doing great. He knew you could be on your own so he stopped worrying that much, and that could also be seen in his driving. He was winning more races, he was at his best and now he was at his lowest. Because you were at your lowest; co-dependency and shit.

"I'm sorry, baby. I thought I was doing well enough to stop taking the meds," you say in a broken voice but the tears are yet to appear. He stroked your hair and kissed you on your forehead.

"You should have told me. You don't have to go thru this alone. I am here."

"Yeah, you are here. But you don't have to be!" you snapped. Irritability, one thing your depression came with. "I am just a burden for you. And no, this does not come from the fact I stopped taking my pills. You took care of me like I was a child, and, fuck it, you don't deserve this."

"Stop talking like this, alright? If I would suffer from depression you would have done the same thing. You would have taken care of me. Or am I wrong?"

"You are not wrong. To be honest, I don't think I would be here if it wasn't for you, but I don't want you to be. It's obvious that I would never get better. This is me. I am fucked in the head, half wishing I was dead and I am just bringing you down."

"Don't tell me this is a fucking break up, Y/N." he narrows his brows and looks at your features to make sure you were being serious.

“I’ll leave, and the world will move on. I just wish I could see it. See how much better everything is when I’m gone.”

"What the fuck are you talking about? Is this a break-up or a suicidal vocal note?"

You broke down. Crying can be cathartic and healthy, but if it goes on too long it can lock your body in a feeling of despair. Even if your mind works through the problem that caused the crying, because your body is still feeling the physical effects it will cause your mind to revert to the negative state. It's not sadness. It's dread and paralysis. You had a certain feeling of emptiness and purposelessness.

“You’re good at finding things. Find me a reason to stay,” you say between sobs.

"You want me to find you a reason to stay alive or to stay in this relationship? To be frank, I can name a thousand reasons, but it all depends on you."

Max hugs you from behind and you lay your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat that was stronger than ever. You allowed yourself to inhale Max's scent, a soothing scent you could get drunk on.

"I want to believe you love me. I mean, I love you and I consider you the love of my life, you know? We are so young and I know it doesn't feel like it, but I promise you, I'm gonna marry you someday, even if right now you don't think you're gonna make it till tomorrow. So, yeah, this is reason number one," he said and pressed a kiss to your cheek. "This is not the worst you have been through in life. Remember where you were 18 months ago; you had no idea what was wrong with you. Now you know and you know you can be better. I know you get sick of those pills, but maybe, in the future, you won't need them. Isn't that exciting? This was reason number two," he said and pressed another kiss to your cheek. He was going to do that every time he would give you a reason. "Have you been to all the beautiful places around the world? Sure, you came to a few Grand Prix, but you never saw Great Ocean Road in Australia, you know Daniel promised he would take us there someday. You never saw Pamukkale in Turkey or Japan in Cherry Blossom season or the Blue Lagoon in Iceland. There are many places you need to visit, baby. So, yeah, this was reason number three. I don't know if you want me to continue but I can give you one more reason. Reason number four. Do it for you, baby. You deserve to live and be happy. I know you can be happy and I promise you I will do my best to help you. You just have to take it one step at a time. You just have to let me in. Let me help you, baby."

You turn around, facing him now. You loved him, with all of your heart. You love him for who he is. You love him because he literally came into your life as your lifeline. You love him because he helped you crawl up the deep bottomless abyss of depression. You love him because he had the patience and the audacity to bear with your depression, anxiety, and panic attacks, your phobias, your mood swings, your temperamental and short-tempered nature, your overthinking, your being overprotectiveness, and possessiveness. You love him because never once he thought of giving up on you in your hard times. You love him because he stands by you like a rock of unwavering support and he’s someone you can fall back on. You love him because he listens to you talking non-stop about your past, your pains, your fears, and your losses without complaining even once. You love him because he rediscovered you and helped you find yourself again when you were lost in darkness. You love him because he filled you with confidence and hope and strength and belief and determination. You love him because he believes you are the best when you set your mind on something and no one can stop you from achieving your goals. You love him because he is protective, caring, understanding, loving, and easy to be with while never being too suffocating or taking up your space. You love him because sooner or later he does everything you ask of him and does with his whole attention. You love him because whatever endeavor he engages in, he likes to give his 100% and hates doing half-hearted things. You love him because he can decode the nuances in your voice and judge your mood just perfectly. You love him because he read you like an open book and he can hear your silence. You love him because he never doubts your loyalty, your intentions, your hard work, and your million issues. You love him because no matter how busy he might get he never forgets that you are waiting for his message or his call. You love him because he keeps you in his priorities. You love him because he gave you a passion you never knew you had. You love him because he very strongly believes that you deserve the best of everything. You love him because he is empathic, kind, magnanimous, thoughtful, and down to Earth. You love him because he has eyes for no one but you. You love him because he wants to see you healthy, wealthy, prosperous, famous and he wants you to hold back at nothing, for no one, he wants you to be a Go-Getter. And most importantly you love him because no one ever loved you like he did.

"I will let you in," you say and you kiss him hard. "I'm sorry for the scene I caused."

"Don't be. It happens."

[crystal-moon-101]

Charmcaster and Mike!💚

I present to you the chaotic magical duo! They were pretty fun to draw with their colours and different body shapes, and these two I've been really wanting to talk about since I've made a lot of rewrite changes for them. Before I get into that, I recommend you read my Dagon Arc Rewrite, to get a better idea of where I've taken these characters, as I involved them quite a bit in that story line. Albedo will be the next redesign eventually, and I'm glad people are liking what I'm doing with these characters so far.

-Mike Morningstar-

Soooo, Mike. He's always been an interesting concept to me, because there are two ways you could make his character go. One way is to just go full out with the creep and power hungry factor, making him a villain through and through, which can provide a very eerie character, which is the route canon mostly too. The other way, which I've taken, is you could make him a very complicated character, tragic even, with the idea of "If someone was born with dark magic, how would the world treat them", and since canon (Both the original series and reboot timeline) as taken the more evil villain approached, I'm taking a much different approach because I think his story can add a lot of interesting dynamics. In terms of his design, I went for the "rich winter" outfit aesthetic, since this lad does know his fashion and tastes.

Mike is an Apotrodite from his mother's side, the dark magic equivalent of Anodites. This means Mike primarily uses dark magic, but unlike other people, his Apotrodite sides means he is in full control of himself, and can't be tainted by dark magic. But that doesn't mean everything goes well...

His parents are Lilith Morningstar and Samael Morningstar, both Plumbers who work in the magical department of things, and since Lilith can use dark magic without it corrupting her, the two get a hefty amount of money working in a field only they can really handle. So they're a very rich family, owning two mansions on earth, and some holiday homes.

Mike was an...accident, not something planned, but his parents wanted to see what it was like, not realizing how raising a child takes a lot of work, especially one that was born half Apotrodite. You see, since Mike was only half, his dark magic didn't come naturally to him for a while, needing to adjust and train himself. There were worries Mike would end up hurting someone, which both Lilith and Samael were nervous about, since Apotrodites didn't have a good reputation anywhere for their use of dark magic. They feared that if Lilith or Mike made a mistake, they'll both be shipped back to their homeworld, which none of them wanted...

Sadly, a mistake did happen one day. Mike didn't mean too, it just happened suddenly, but he ended up hurting two other kids in Plumber Kindergarden, giving one magical burns, and nearly draining the life out of another. He felt horrible over what happened, and couldn't stop sobbing for the rest of the day as everyone debated what to do, and had a long discussion with Mike's parents. Lilith and Samael ended up pulling Mike out from school to homeschool him from now on...and didn't trust Mike to leave the house on his own ever, the fears getting the better of them. So...you could say Mike's childhood was rather lonely and depressing. Eventually as he grew older, he got into lots of arguments with his parents, until finally snapping and running away sometime after his encounter with Ben and his friends. If everyone was going to treat him like a monster, then he might as well be what they say he was and do it being free...

Mike does have an Apotrodite form, much like how Gwen has an Anodite form, but he hardly ever turns into it, even if it would save him energy and make his human form 'rot' less. He doesn't like being reminded of what he is, the reason behind all his problems...

He loves cats, and has always wanted one since he learnt about them.

Mike did end up helping Charmcaster when she was losing herself in omniverse, during the final fight with her. He was one of the few who managed to snap her out of her insanity, and later when she was recovering, she tracked him down with the help of Ben, and managed to convince him to come to Ledgerdomain with her, wanting to repay him for his help. Along with knowing that Mike was really just lonely and tired with the world...something she could relate too...

His hasn't been in contact with his parents since running away from home, and they haven't made an effort to reach out to him, not sure how to approach their son after what he became...

Mike and Hex have a very...awkward dynamic, since neither know how to talk to the other, especially regarding Charmcaster.

Loves scarfs, he just likes the way they look and feel.

-Hope Charmcaster-

Miss Charmcaster, a character who keeps spinning on that plot merry go round. She was defiantly someone who went insane due to how often the writing changed her up, which is a shame since she is a very interesting character, so that's what I'm here for. For her redesign, I've always loved the idea of her being short, plump and very curvy, and entirely confident with her body and looks. She knows she's hot, and owns it. I kept her outfit similar to her original and omniverse style, but played around with the look of it.

Her mother died at childbirth, so her father had to raise her own his own, with the help of Uncle Hex from time to time. Eventually after what happened in Ledgerdomain with Addwaitya, Hex has been looking after her since she was 8, but it wasn't easy, especially when he started tapping into dark magic to find ways to fight Addwaitya, and eventually going power hungry. Charmcaster knows Hex was trying his best, but there are things she can't forgive him for, even if they're getting better during her recovery.

She has black markings on her hands due to her use of the Alpha Rune and dark magic. The Alpha Rune also left a mark on her chest right above her heart. She is subconscious about these things, and tends to hide them from everyone and herself.

Ben 100% had a crush on her as a kid, and she knows it.

Charmcaster has a sweet tooth, and loves desserts. Her favorite is cake, strawberry cake to be precise.

She's still trying to be the Queen of Ledgerdomain, which isn't easy with what's left of it, but she's slowly getting them and creating a new age for the Kingdom, having opened it out to any magic user in the galaxy that needs a place to go.

Gwen and Charmcaster have been building up a nice friendship finally now that Charmcaster is getting help. It's been sweet, with Gwen doing normal teen and girl stuff that Charmcaster hasn't been able to do in years. The little things always remind her that she is human after all.

She is still on the hunt for Addwaitya with the help of Gwen, Hex, Mike and the Plumbers, after the turtle managed to run away during the fight against her.

Later on Mike and Charmcaster do meet other Apotrodites, and visit their homeworld, and does feel bad for their situation. They pair end up letting a good chunk of them move to Ledgerdomain, where it will be safe for them from the outside galaxy, and their contribution of dark magic knowledge really helps Ledgerdomain in the long run.

[skybrightpixie]

where does the electric current in his body come from?

what happens if the electric current is interrupted by a deep cut or something? is there enough energy in there to form an arc/coronal discharge?

can the electricity be used to power devices outside the body?

1. his body naturally generates electricity in his muscles—i guess you can think of it similarly to the small, electric signals that your body has constantly going throughout it that sends signals. but in Tóm's case it's in a much more magically heightened way.

the electricity in his body is largely used as a way to boost strength. he can't infinitely do that, there is a point where his species just can't anymore due to an unspecific limiter. i guess the best example would be like... you could bite your finger off, but you're not going to for one reason or another; maybe the specifics haven't made theirselves clear to you but it's enough to make you stop. for Tóm specifically, he can't overcharge himself for a slightly different reason.

2. i think since he's a magical alien it would be slightly different than how we know electrical currents to work, but yeah, a bad cut will definitely leave him much weaker. i can't say i'm very knowledgeable on everything there is to know about electrical currents, but i think if Tóm were to suffer an injury that interrupted his electrical flow on, like, his arm, he could still grab you with said arm and use the rest of his strength to shock the hell out of you because his body is so full of electricity yum.

3. yes, his species regularly use bits of their own electricity to power their devices! if they're holding their phone all day for some reason or playing video games on a chargeable device, you would find it almost always at 100% because small things like that take so little effort. but if, say, you had a large underground laboratory full of machines that you can't always be at for sooome reason then you would still have to use outside means.

none of this is to imply that if Tóm were to brush against you on accident he would always give a static shock. if he's shooting out electrical shocks of any level he's doing it on purpose.

[pokedash55]

Ninjobservation #2

Analyzing the Elemental Alliance as a group and uncovering the real reason the Time twins (Twims for short) were "traitors"

So I have rewatched Hands of Time for the 3rd time this past year and Me and my sister Purplefern (She has a ton of good Twims fics on Ao3 ^^) have learned a lot about the old elemental alliance (EA).

THE CLAIM

The EA were a strong clique that did not appreciate the Twim's general attitudes and personalities. Chen saw the growing discourse and manipulated both sides into turning on each other.

[[They be judgin' (””art”” by me) ]]

To start let’s look at all the Leaders of this Alliance

Wu

Wu back before his eventual growth with the ninja was a strict teacher. Morro ran away due to his inability to understand his problems (problems he may have caused with his teachings). He is generally harsh towards the Ninja in season 1, forcing them to train all day because they simply talked during his lesson ("Never trust a snake").

Due to being the son of the FSM he put pressure on himself to always be virtuous and leaderlike (believes he has to uphold order) and he takes this believed expectation of authority to heart. He is no nonsense, yelling at Libber (the Master of Lightning) for simply talking slightly off topic before an important battle. He has a strong sense of right and wrong, according to his own moral standards and does not waver on what he believes is in/appropriate.

Garmadon

Although less righteous than Wu, joining the alliance after the war began, he has also been seen as a strict and serious teacher. Because of the growing venom in his blood I'd argue he was even more strict, less in attitude but more in general rules of law and order. We see in Rebooted that Garmadon set strict rules for himself like "no weapons" to keep his destructive side in check and we know that Young Garmadon is so sensitive to rules as he claims that even reading another's mail is a crime. He joined as a leader and most likely upheld rules not just for the alliance but for his own sake.

Ray and Maya

We see little of them but they are both good friends- and Ray appears to be the right hand man-- of Wu They are such good friends that Ray is the one trusted with the Map to the Golden Weapons. From his tone and diction he seems very dogmatic and if he's anything like Kai, he's quick to assumptions and to attack people who he perceives as bad according to his own strict principles. He just feels like a stuffy guy. I don't have much on Maya but she's a good people person so she gets along with the others really well. Also she married Ray, so that has to say something. They both went along with the Time Blade plan.

Other Elemental observations

 Except for Libber (Lighting), all the Masters are older than the Time twins. (Krux can fight in S7 so he's not older than 70. They are most likely mid to late twenty's during the war)

 The EA is a pre-established group (Garmadon refers to them like they are a pre-existing entity in ToE flashbacks). They were two confident and arrogent twenty year olds strolling into a pre-established clique of old honorable fighters during a war. Not the best time for bonding.

 Ice feels very much like Wu and Garmadon, considering he gave his powers to an analytical robot like Zane is saying a lot about him. He most likely does not tolerate "shenanigans", especially during a war.

They battle in a tight group

Krux and Acronix

These two act like they don't belong in the group. During the party celebrating the end of the war they are seen standing away from the rest and are genuinely happy to be recognized by Wu for their efforts. Although retcon, the two are not seen battling with the rest of the group. They instead most likely are so powerful (and impulsive and difficult to work with) that they are sent on duo missions to protect villages (They are also not the best followers).

It's also a nice parallel to our ninja in ToE. They stuck together like a family and were disliked and excluded from the rest of the EM's. The same could be said for The Twims since they always fought together and were similarly excluded.

Krux

Krux is a planner and a sassy dude. He’s stubborn and will tell people they are wrong to their face. The 16 personalities that matches him best is INTJ (the Architect). This analytical type hates people who are who they consider idiotic, do not participate in formalities, and are aggravated by heavy rules and restrictions made by someone else, especially someone they do not respect (which is most people).

Although we do not see him much as a young man we know that he is prone to grudges and will resort to less kind methods in sake for the means to an end. Definitely not someone Wu and Garmadon would like since they are trying to uphold order and keep a chain of command. But Krux believes in his own plans and his own chain of command. He is not good at small talk and would mostly stick with his brother during group events like meetings and parties, so in general his terrible social skills probably made him pretty unliked.

Acronix

Acronix is quick witted and heavily proud of himself. He won’t admit he is wrong and is very loud in general. This may be a side tangent but Acronix may have ADHD, which would not be understood back in the day and people would regard him as annoying or rude.

EVIDENCE FOR ADHD

-He is shown to stand in a position that suggests hand fidgeting (A LOT)

-Quick to anger over minuscule details

-yeah he's distractible but he's also quick to move through ideas/activities

-impulsive

- During their important battle back in time his attention is on the pretty fusion dragon flying around instead of listening to Kruxs plan of attack.

-His attention shifts to the destiny's bounty and he toys with the ninja despite saying right before he couldn't stay and fight Wu cause he had to meet up with Krux.

- in general he is constantly shifting from idea to idea, oftentimes leaving his original plans completely un-finished

He could have trouble paying attention to meetings and with his bond with Krux and tendency to quick action he would choose his brother's plan and strike independently rather than following whatever Wu is doing. This leads them to fight beside each other alone instead of with the main group, making the elemental alliance think they believe to be better than them. 

In terms of Personality types he’s a hardcore ESTP (Entrepreneur). Like his brother, they are free analytical thinkers who do not respect higher authority simply because they claim to be the leaders and hate rules and regulations getting in the way of their progress. He says what's on his minds regardless of feelings and will defend his opinions despite others sensitivities. He is perceptive enough to pick up on small changes and habits but he is quick to share that knowledge (usually in a snarky remark). I doubt the alliance appreciates what he has to say when he’s blabbering about everything in such a rude tone.

MOE

Now this all may start to look like a silly “Hands of time did nothing wrong” theory. But there is a key factor in this that not many people talk about. The previous Master of Earth (or Moe for short).

We know that Chen manipulated Moe into turning against the alliance so it was not technically his fault. Chen could’ve said that because the serpentine rose from the earth he was entitled to fight for them. Heck he could’ve been 100% hypnotized by Clouse’s dark magic (His eyes were not swirly so it was not hypnobrai like is suggested in WOTD). He is most likely some lovable dummy who was easily swayed and a kind person to apologize once the truth about Chen is revealed (considering that he’s Cole’s grandfather). Moe as a person is fine. What is sketchy is Moe being easily forgiven and allowed into the alliance despite turning on all of HUMANITY. What he did could’ve hurt way more people. He fought with the snakes and attacked innocent people and powerless soldiers (like the rice farmers) and was off scott free! The Twims only fought the elemental alliance and Wu and Garmadon at the monastery. Not nearly as destructive.

They figured out that Chen made the alliance turn on each other after the war and forgave Moe for that, but isn't it strange that they never gave the Time Twins that same benefit of the doubt? We know from “Way of the departed” and general logic that Chen and Clouse helped tip them over the edge. Whether you believe this to be canon or not is irrelevant because if the EA knew that Chen was involved once why would they not assume he was with the time twins too? Seems like they already disliked the two and were just ready for a reason to punish them. All flashbacks we get are told from unreliable sources like Wu and Ray (who both were enthusiastically the ones planning to strip them of their powers.) Speaking of, let’s analyze this example of their “betrayal” shall we?

THE BATTLE IN QUESTION

This is the flashback we get of them fighting against the alliance. The first time you watch it all you really know is that they are fighting against the EA, when Wu is describing their arrogance and the danger of their powers. How evil right? To attack their companions like that? But there is a lot wrong with how Wu phrases the fight and how it actually goes down.

They have Bamboo staffs.

A weapon that is primarily defensive and not a good weapon of choice for a planned ambush or assault. They are non lethal weapons. And Acronix is said on LEGO.com to be quick to learn any weapon so someone as adaptable as he is would not intentionally bring something so weak to a fight unless he had been forced to improvise.

Always on the defensive.

Someone as tactical as Krux and skilled as Acronix would never let themselves be on the defensive like this if they had the first blow. We see that Ray has the first attack in the flashback. Although Acronix is known to jump in without thinking he has his brother who would not just go into a fight just to lose. And even if they did end up on the defensive after having the first strike Acronix has his powers. He would’ve brought both of them out of a situation if things got too hard (which he is known to do in battles HE starts). But they clearly did not start this battle.

They are surrounded.

These two guys with nothing but staffs are encircled? Krux as a planner and Acronix as a quick witted warrior would never let themsleves get into that position if it had been a battle that they had started and had been planning to win. This framing makes it feel like they are being ganged up on.

In a remote location.

The battle takes place on a gravel road no where near a major city. If they wanted to take over wouldn’t they strike somewhere more populated? And if they were attacking the EA...they would have attacked the EA directly. They were probably just walking and talking and got ambushed.

Chen?

Very possible that Chen sent an “anonymous” note to the EA telling them of the Twims plans to attack. They are arrogant, have openly hated Wu’s leadership, and don’t gel with the group so of course they would take a tip like that and attack someone they don’t like. It’s possible they had ideas of taking over the EA but the world seems a bit out of their morality range until provoked.

Now that they have been attacked the two form a real plan to overthrow these fools who don’t like them and have unfairly attacked them (just like Chen had been telling them they were likely to do). They bring real weapons (swords) to an important location (the Monastery) to fight the specific people they do not like (Wu and Garmadon).

The Punishment

Ok so these powerful elemental masters are going to attack the EA. They were once allies and they are too powerful to defeat with their powers. If only there was a way to temporarily suspend their powers so they could talk this out and have an understanding of each other and perhaps uncover Master Chen's involvement-- since the Hands of Time were semi-sensible war heroes who were the sons of a previous master of time who presumably responsibly used the element without issue (and was most likely a samurai since Krux says their helmets are samurai helmets)... sigh too bad there is not such a material… oh wait.

WHAT ABOUT VENGESTONE???

These fools really decided that destroying an important element forever, and violently ripping it out of its users was the only option? There were generations of time elementals before them that had the element. They could throw vengestone nets at them or fight until they get knocked out and then vengestone cage them. But they don’t want to know why they betrayed the alliance. It was not because the element was too dangerous. It was not because they had to strip them of their powers (cause there are less lethal ways of doing so). They just did not give these two any mercy.

CONCLUSION

The Time twins are hard to work with and stuck together no matter what. The alliance is very strict and dogmatic which both Krux and Acronix would hate being trapped in their day to day alliance meetings and group mentality. Chen used their egos and their exclusion to his benefit to keep the fight going after he was banished and sent a letter to start up conflict with the EA. The EA did not like the Twims so they were ruthless and did not give them the same mercy they did for Moe (They also are not Elements of Creation. Wu would do anything to protect the main 4 but he’ll punish these punks). 

[buckyownsmylife]

v e l o c i t y - chapter v

The one where John’s your true mate, but he doesn’t want you to be his.

In a universe where fate grants you a new mate whenever you lose yours, John has lived quite comfortably for many years with the knowledge that he was alone after Mary. That all comes crumbling down the second that he meets you. How could the universe choose someone so young to be his omega?

for general warnings and author’s notes, please go to the fic’s masterlist. It’s being constantly updated  and if you’d like to be tagged on my following John Winchester stories, just fill out this form.

John’s P.O.V.

I could barely hear over the sound of my heart pumping blood mixed with anger and arousal through my veins. I knew it was irrational - and the rational part of me was urging me to turn around and leave while I still could - but the sight of her with him had awakened a deep, territorial, and possessive feeling I just couldn’t deny anymore.

“Get your hands off of her,” I ordered, eyes narrowed and focused solely on the man who wanted my mate. I didn’t want to look at her, didn’t want to see the emotions that were certainly dominating her expression. I knew there’d be confusion, and I knew there’d be that fire in her eyes that brightened her personality, making her so damn interesting to everyone that met her.

I just didn’t have the level head I needed to deal with her right now.

“I won’t tell you again.” The guy looked at her for a second before letting her down on the floor but then turned around to look at me with a cynical smile on his face.

“Why do you think you have any say on what happens between me and her, old man?” The question, the nickname had me curling my hands into fists while I still tried to remain as calm as I possibly could, considering how fucking angry I was.

“What sort of fucking question is that? She’s mine!”

“I don’t see a mark on her neck.” The reminder sobered me up somewhat, making me realize exactly what I had said without thinking. He was right. I had no right over her. She wasn’t mine, and I didn’t want her to be.

But I still didn’t want his hands on her. 

“You don’t want to mess with me, boy. I can really hurt you.” He immediately laughed, but when neither I nor Y/N reciprocated the reaction, the Alpha seemed to ponder my words for a second. I watched as he exchanged a look with her, and just that act of intimacy, their ability to communicate without sounds, had me burning on the inside.

“Remember what I said. You know how to get in touch with me if you need it. We can be together now. It’s up to you.” I knew my entire body trembled in the effort to contain myself as I heard his final words to her before his eyes darted in my direction again. 

“Take care of her.”

I wanted to tell him that I would, better than he ever could, but I didn’t want to imply that I believed this to be my responsibility either. So I just narrowed my eyes in his direction, watching cautiously until his form disappeared when he took a turn to get back to the bar.

“What the fuck was that?” My head snapped back to look at her, finally taking in her traits. Her eyes were narrowed at me, her own hands curled into fists and her entire body trembling under the power of her emotions. It seemed like she reciprocated my own emotions perfectly.

“You’re my mate, you shouldn’t be whoring yourself for other alphas.” My words were like a slap to her face if the way her expression fell was any indication, but I felt like I’d hit myself with that one.

I’d just admitted she was my mate for the very first time while accusing her of being a whore for looking in other alphas what I didn’t want to offer. I really was despicable. But I was too far gone in my temper tantrum to allow the self hate to take over me at that moment. And with the next words that fell from her lips, I knew there was absolutely no way I’d be able to deal with this in a calm manner - I was about to explode.

“Really? Am I actually your mate? Because you’ve never acknowledged it until now. You don’t even seem to be affected by me in any way!” My entire body trembled with barely kept anger, and still, I tried to hold on to those scraps of my usually iron-tight control.

“Of course you affect me! You’re my fucking mate, for fuck’s sake. You turn me on all the fucking time, and I’m still not convinced it’s only because of this fucking bond.” Her mouth opened and closed a few times at that like she wasn’t expecting this confession at all - fair enough, I didn’t expect to make it. And the fact that she made me so crazy that I would go against my own intentions only served to worsen my anger.

“You’re such a fucking liar.” She shook her head and crossed her arms, inadvertently making her breasts more visible over the cleavage of her shirt.

“Watch your fucking mouth,” I growled, and she had the nerve to fucking laugh!

“You’re a fucking liar and you’re just trying to keep me around like a plaything because it boosts your ego. You don’t want anything with me, John Winchester, so you should just let me go.” She approached me then, eyes showing fire as I fought to suppress my instincts.

“Shut up.” There was a heavy silence between us, one heavy with the tension that had been growing between us ever since the day we found out about the bond. But then she seemed to make up her mind over what she wanted to do about it.

“Well, you can’t make me.” But I could. I could. And so I did. I picked her up so easily that I think both of us only realized what I’d done when she was already against the brick wall of the bar, my body tightly pressed against hers.

“You’re still gonna tell me you don’t have any sort of effect on me?” She just looked up at me with those big bright eyes that said too much, and I knew what she was asking. I knew that she felt my hard member against her stomach. I knew I had interrupted her orgasm. The smell of her arousal was still swirling in the air around us, intoxicating me, hampering my ability to think straight.

And so I got carried away.

“Spread your fucking legs.” Her arms flew up to my shoulders, clutching at my shirt when my hand slipped under her skirt to find her naked and wet for me. “You’re not even wearing any underwear, huh? What, did you know you’d run into James?”

I knew the tone of mockery that I used to say his name didn’t go unnoticed by her, but she seemed as inebriated by the sounds of my fingers slipping inside of her pussy as I was. “You’re so fucking wet. I bet anyone who leaves the bar can hear the squelching sounds of your whorish behavior, did he get you this wet?” 

Unfortunately, she didn’t answer me, and I wasn’t a man who liked to be ignored, as she was about to find out. “Answer me,” I ordered, gripping her jaw so she’d look me in the eye.

“Oh, fuck,” was everything she could give me, but it made me smirk, so I let her off the hook - this time.

“You wish,” I meanly ridiculed. “You wish I’d fuck you. Believe me, if I did, you wouldn’t live the same way ever again. You wouldn’t even be able to walk after I was done with you. I wouldn’t stop until I was 100% sure you would never open your legs for any other man.”

Her little gasp was swallowed by my mouth when I licked her lips open, digits curling up and tapping against the spot that had her whining against me. “You’re such a goddamn fucking tease,” I continued once I let her gather her breath. “Is this what you wanted, huh? You wanted to cum all over his fingers?”

I felt her tugging on my shirt, still unable to voice her thoughts. I knew I was in for it when we were done, I knew she’d rip me apart for everything I’d said, everything I’d done, but I couldn’t pretend to care at that moment.

“Fucking brat,” I mocked, picking up the pace of my fingers as I felt her approach her high. “Beg me to make you cum. Beg me.”

“P-please.” A satisfied smirk took over my face at hearing just how wrecked she was, her eyes glossed over as she looked up at me. 

“He thinks I don’t know how to touch you, huh? What would he think if he saw you cumming around my fingers right now, like he never even touched you?” I felt her tighten around my digits, announcing her orgasm even before she cried out and gripped my shirt in desperation.

“He can’t satisfy you.” It was more of a realization that hit the both of us at that second when she finally stopped convulsing. “Not the way I can.” We just stared into each other's eyes for a few seconds, the moment heavy with words unspoken that couldn’t be uttered now that the moment was gone.

Her pussy clung to my fingers, like she didn’t want me to leave her empty when I pulled my hand away from the edge of her skirt. “You’re sweet,” I commented, having sucked on the juices there before looking at her, holding herself up by the way, slightly trembling, chest heaving with the effort to breathe.

Something red caught my attention, and I looked down to the floor to find the scraps of what had obviously been her underwear. Chuckling, I knelt to pick it up before stuffing it into my pocket.

“If he didn’t want it…” I shrugged, giving her one last look before turning around and going back to the bar.

[fiore-rosewood9]

♫FrUk :D

Thank you for the ask, I will send a few songs that remind me of fruk, a whole playlist if you may, not only one song. I also touch a few of triggering topics as I explain the nations's personalities and relationships with one another so I apologize in advance if I upset/trigger someone and will put my trigger here - Warning - mentions of abuse, alcoholism, s*exual trauma. Under the explanation there is a playlist of songs that make me think of Ukfr/Fruk, so if anyone gets upset you can feel free to skip my general headcanons about fruk/ukfr relationship dynamics. There are too many songs that make me think of different characters or ships but I collected the ones that make me think the most of them.

I know the original song is by Lady gaga but this version is too sweet and cheesy for me so I chose the rock cover by the group Halestorm since I prefer it, it sounds more genuine and rough and kinda makes me think of the dynamic that ukfr/fruk has, that some people present is as just the enemies to lovers trope or them just fighting which is.....simply unhealthy????? Fruk is much more than that and I wish people would stop seeing it as a two dimensional thing, yeah they do argue on a lot of things and it is not the healthiest dynamic however it does work in my mind because they stick through thin and thick and that requires effort and true love since a lot of people nowdays do not take time to know the other person, they just jump into marriage and have a few divorces and just argue over everything and then separate, fruk is an off and on thing where they break and make. This kind of dedication is hard to find in today's couples. I know they're fictional characters and no one really cares but I practice my psychology skills and my knowledge of people around me, and I sometimes see people with similar or almost the same characters as fictional characters, they may not have all of their hobbies but they do act the same way. And certain pairs, no offence, just make me want to gag my self due to history with bad and toxic fans but if I look at it subjectivly and never encountered mean fans from a certain ship, I would say that they ship simply doesn't work. No ship bashing but as far as I know, people with this kind of personality from this ship that I dislike, and get upset when seeing fan art of, simply just do not get along and had a hard time divorcing, it is not only unhealthy and unbalanced, it is downright abusive because both partners seek control and to have the upper hand and this is not...what romance is about???? It is about two people taking care of each other, understanding personal space and boundaries, lifting each other up and yeah, they will argue a lot, sometimes for small things, sometimes for bigger things, but generally the point of romantic relationships is not someone using you, or abusing you financially and generally being better or bigger than you. This breeds insecurity and jealousy in the other partner and makes them feel inadequate. Usually such problems are not talked over and one of the partners acts passive agressive which is what ultimaltly leads to said divorce. So yeah, people can go away with their (BUT IT IS CUTE, IT IS SO FUCKING CUTE) pairing because real life pairings and how humans communicate and develop friendships and relationships isn't based on what your mind conciders and doesn't concider cute and there are lots of factors on whether relationship will ever happen like common interests, type personality, etc and just block me so I will never hear from them and their childish mindset ever again, which is why I blocked certain tumbrl fan art hetalia accounts who produce art of a pairing I (dislike) lowkey hate, for historical reasons, for manga reasons, for toxic fans who bullied me and made me go on 3 hiatuses reason and ultimatly in real life experience and psychology and how humans and the human mind works and what is healthy and unhealthy reason. Why should I support something where certain people have been hateful towards me and these same people that act like these characters and I know in my life are on bad terms in real life? Why shouldn't I just move on to something more realistic and more healthy, that I have seen that works with humans I know first hand? I am not a clinical psychologist and I have no power or saying in this but I had to write thesis and read books by psycholgists and analyze them in high school and my first year of Uni, in order to pass the year and I have also read reccomended books by a psychologist I went to because I wanted an advice on how to deal with my anxiety and talking to people, because my condition is extremely severe but I honestly feel stuck and try to improve but also feel confused, I sometimes feel like I am not doing enough to

self improve as a human. I sometimes come off as too cold or overly bitter and angry without intending to, and it sucks.

Francis is a really manipulative person and Matthew picked up that from him while part of Alfred's agression doesn't only come from confidence in his own abilities but the fact that England him self is an overly agressive person and is very dominant or at least used to be for a very long time, now he is more mild to keep his gentleman persona but he does suffer from severe anger issues which he hides while Alfred is prone to breaking things and screaming, Arthur is more prone to being rude, sarcastic and generally mean before he loses it. Matthew and Francis do not engage in fight if they can avoid it which is why sometimes people call them cowardly I think? And Matthew is a bit prone to being a codependent people pleaser as far as I see and he seems to have severe anxiety issues. Francis albeit charismatic and beautiful, is deep down in his core lonely.

I think that part of his pervertedness, shocking people with his s*xual humour and all of this sex obsession comes from trauma in his childhood and dressing like a girl. I wouldn't explain what the trauma in question was since it is not canon but I do headcanon that he had s*xual trauma and it is partly why Hungary dressed like a guy. I don't know if this is legit, it is bias from reading too much japanese fan comics relating to hetalia or just general history of humans and how they treated consent and what is moral today, wasn't amoral or against the law a few centuries ago, but I have seen artists touch on it. I think both Arthur and Francis suffer from neglect and they weren't particularly good fathers, in fact no country is, the whole FACE family is dysfunctional and while I love all of them, I kinda pity them. I think Rome was a bit discriminatory mostly towards France and never towards his other children while Arthur had to constantly prove him self and was bullied by his brothers. While other nations have suffered from trauma too (I headcanon that Prussia was burnt on stake and people threw rocks at him due to his albinism and being left handed) something similar happened to Arthur, who I headcanon that he was burnt for being a witch and Francis went a few times through the guillotine, or Arthur still having a bullet scar on his arm from the American revolution or Francis having nightmares from that day where Jeanne was burnt and waking up in his own sweat. Arthur also must suffer from workholism and alcoholism, judging by how much he works and goes to pubs to drink. Everyone chooses their own poison and how to cope with life and many use unhealthy coping mechanisms, hell, even I used unhealthy coping mechanisms a lot in the past and I am not proud of them, in fact, I try to improve.

I can talk about their history and how it relates to their mental health and what scars they have for hours but I would bore you. You came for a song and I am probably boring you so I apologize for writting a lot of words, in advance. I basically think that fruk/ukfr is the ultimate ship for many reasons because they click, I do ship spuk/engita/asakiku and many other things but fruk/ukfr is kinda like butter and bread, it is a great combination. I never said it is 100 percent healthy, however their relationship makes psychological sense and their personalities click. I know people like to present arthur as this dumb tsundere man that blushes and says baka, or he is this garbage rat dad that no one likes or francis is presented or at least used to be this perverted sex machine that touched other countries inappropriatly or at least the 2012-2015 fans saw him this way and while he still has the reputation of a pervert, what many young people in the fandom see as disgusting, I just see as an overly lonely man that just happens to have high libido and copes with it by having casual sex and just has a sex humour, the same way some people have fart jokes humour or darker, more cursed humour, I am really glad that fans mostly left off this whole - Francis is a r**ist and will grope you, in the past, because honestly r**e is not joke and as a character he clearly understands consent and boundaries and I don't think someone like him would do such a thing. Also Greece and Turkey have even higher libido than him and sleep around more, yet he is the ''pervert'', I don't get it??????????? but fruk is just so much more than opposites attract, they have a lot in common so I can't say they're full opposites, no one is truly. I have heard people ask why does anyone ship fruk when it is just opposites attract/enemies to lovers trope and I am honestly confused, because that is extremely rough generalization to say the least, it is like saying - All men/women are the same, it is simply wrong/uncorrect. I think they ''married'' five times - The Treaty of Paris (1657) formed an alliance against Spain. The Anglo-French Alliance (1716–31) formed another alliance against Spain. The Anglo-French blockade of the Río de la Plata (1845-1850). The Anglo-French joint invasion of Qing Dynasty (1856–1860). And the last one which is their official marriage The Entente Cordiale (1904) fought together in both World Wars. As far as I remember Francis tried to marry Arthur but he refused and why he refused is up for subjective opinion but I must write a whole thesis on why Fruk/ukfr works so well and people are not here for that, they're here for the music and I will provide. I also always saw Francis as the more gentle and more submissive partner, I just love to see him drawn in frilly beautiful dresses with bows and stuff and Arthur as the more dominant, I mean as a country he was a powerhouse during the 1600s-1800s and used to be a punkrocker, usually rockers are mentally tough and that man is extremely cunning and witty so...people drawing him as this useless baka uwu overly feminine anorexic boy that looks more like a tween rather than a 23 year old guy just assasinated his character in my opinion and it disturbs me but I am just some awkward human on the internet and no one values my opinion anyway because this is the internet and many people nowdays love to have hot takes and try to gain followers through clickbait stuff which sometimes goes out of control and everything just seems more fake and shallow to me, the more old I get.Okay that was my silly rant no one asked about but I feel really passionate about hetalia and Fruk/Ukfr. Anyway, I apologize again for my long rant and going all over the place, please enjoy this playlist

PLAYLIST WITH SONGS THAT REMIND ME OF FRUK/UKFR

1 - Halestorm - Bad romance - rock cover https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ll4NJs3NBIU

2 - Queen - Somebody to love - lyrics https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zj69iA_goIk

3 - ABBA - Voulez vous - (I know everyone chooses Waterloo and while waterloo is a fruk theme, I think Voulez vous works too) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fwcgMVXuBJc

4 - London beat - I've been thinking about you - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ixBryyQSrD8

5 - Santana - Smooth - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6Whgn_iE5uc

6 - George Michael - Careless whisper - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=izGwDsrQ1eQ

7 - Robbie Williams - Feel - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iy4mXZN1Zzk

8 - Michael Buble - Feeling good - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Edwsf-8F3sI

9 - Edith Piaf - La vie en rose - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kFzViYkZAz4

10 - Chopin - Marriage d'amour (Spring waltz) - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EFJ7kDva7JE

11 - Vanessa Carlton - A thousand miles - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ERw2LuU6Jj8

[ey8508]

Hidden Weapon [暗器迷局]

Rumors and Secrets: Li Zeyan (李泽言）| Victor

Li Zeyan SSR: A Great Secret

【 Everyone wanted to know how he sat on the highest chair with confidence.】

Note:

R&S for this card (CG above)

Chapter SPOILERS up to Season 2: Chapter 6-9 (read at your own risk)

Contains 5 chapters

Translation isn’t 100% accurate (or include grammar errors)

Every part for LZ’s dialogue would be in “this setting”

Do not repost to any other site (reblog is fine)

Chapter 1 Page 1 BLACK SWAN Investigation Log. Permission level: normal Name: Small syringe experiment Experiment recorder: Senior Experiment Researcher Jagger Experiment contents: [Day1] Investigated the illegal drug "small syringe" that is popular in the underground market and secretly went undercover. Page 2 .... [Day4] Send a preliminary investigation report to the BOSS, and receive a reply instruction. Nox will take the lead in handling this task, and everything will be under her command. [Day5] Seized samples of suspected small syringes from special channels. [Day6] The sensory organs can’t distinguish the components of the sample, and decided to make the injection. The experiment risk: high.  This application was rejected by Nox on the spot. [Day7] The experiment sample is missing. [Day8] Received BOSS order, this experiment was terminated and abolished. Page 3 This is the first time Jagger has been frustrated in an experiment since joining BLACK SWAN. Fortunately, before he became a BS member, his life has not been smooth, so he can bear it. Since he was young, he discovered that his Evol distinguishes chemical components through his body, he has been struggling to become a scientific researcher.  It's just that he behaves badly and has a violent personality, getting narrower and narrower in his career.  Finally, after conducting an experiment that violated the bottom line of ethics and morality, he was jointly expelled from academia and was not allowed to step into the laboratory for life. Page 4 The night when the people from BS found him, he was living alone in a warehouse somewhere in the suburbs.  So he picked up the beer can beside him and slammed "What BS! Don't bother me!" Looking at Jagger on the ground like a puddle of mud, the member had to take out his mobile phone and made a brief report to his superiors. "....Okay, understood, I'll start preparing now ." He hung up the phone, took out a delicately designed holographic projection metal box from his arms, and placed it in the open space in the middle of the warehouse.  A few minutes later, I only heard the box "drop" shooting a blue light from the dot in the center. After the light shot up and down in the air for a circle, a slender shape figure slowly emerged. Page 5 Jagger narrowed his eyes and looked at the holographic projection in front of him, and saw a man sitting on a leather chair, his entire face hidden in the shadows, only his bright leather shoes and neat suit trousers could be seen. Jagger couldn't help but spit into the air. "What is this shameful sight!" As soon as the voice fell, the BS member beside him looked up at him almost immediately and even took two steps closer.  Jagger shrinks his neck subconsciously. "Look- " Page 6 The man in the projection knocked on the armrest of the chair twice, and the member immediately retracted his gaze and stood back to where he was before. "As far as I know, you were jointly expelled from academia three years ago and you are forbidden to participate in any experiment for life." The man spoke slowly, his voice low, but he revealed an unstoppable momentum. "So what?" "BLACK SWAN can give you the opportunity to re-enter the laboratory" Page 7 "Heh, BLACK SWAN is so famous, so many eyes are staring at it in the society, once my name appears in the laboratory, someone will immediately take notice and you'll be in trouble." "Who said that your name will appear in the laboratory?" "How do you contradict yourself? You said that BS gave me a chance to re-enter the laboratory, and you said that my name would not appear in the laboratory. Could it be you," said Jagger. His eyes suddenly widened. "Giving you a new identity is not difficult for BS." Chapter 2 Page 1 The turbidity in Jagger's eyes lit up instantly.  He opened his mouth and didn't know what to say. "Since you have some knowledge of BS, it is not difficult to know that BS's social resources are top-notch. BS's power is more than enough to support you to do experiments and..." Although he couldn't see the man's face clearly, Jagger felt the man's direct gaze. "Join BS, the worst situation is better than you are now." Page 2 Jagger realized that this holographic projection is a bidirectionally visible BS technology that has already reached this level of advancement. He lowered his head and glanced at himself, his face suddenly hot.  After the man behind the barrier said these words he slightly cleared his throat as he raised his hands signaling to cut off the phone. Blood instantly rushed to the top of Jagger's head, and he unwillingly picked fresh from the opponent. "Since BS is so powerful, why should the superior BS leader had to invite a little man with a poor clothes?" In such a big pomp, he had guessed the identity of the opponent just now, and he broke this point, it was just a momentary quick guess. The other party's movements seemed to give a chuckle. Page 3 "For talents, I will do my best." The tone was steady, without a trace of irritation. Jagger suddenly felt that he had lost in the game. But it is precisely because of this sentence that he willingly joined BS. It takes seven inches to strike a snake. This is the first thing Jagger learned from the BOSS. But that was the only time Jagger had direct contact with the BOSS. After joining BS, he never saw the BOSS again. Not only him, but almost all the members around him.  Perhaps it was the first meeting with the BOSS that left a deep impression on Jagger, and when he has nothing to do, he put this sentence on his lips- Page 4 "Have you seen the BOSS? I mean, the BOSS himself." The member who was asked was stunned for a moment: "How is it possible? Seeing BOSS is like seeing an ancient dragon. I heard that even during the board meeting he's behind the barrier and no one can see him at all. In our organization, I heard that there is only one person who have actually seen him. Jagger nodded, indicating that he knew this person: "You mean Nox?" The other party sneered: "Don't call them just by their code names, we are below them, but we call them with the honorable 'Miss' " Jagger was puzzled, and the man came immediately interested. Page 5 "Don't tell it to others. I have something else to tell you..." The member looked around again, then lowered his voice, "They all said that the relationship between BOSS and her is unusual. Although the they remain anonymous from the outside world, BOSS is often doing things from behind the scenes to maintain Nox. Some time ago, have you heard about the leak of the Evolver identity of artists under Nox? It is said that after this incident, many board members asked to punish Nox at the meeting, but they were all blocked by BOSS. Jagger snorted, but didn't answer.  Although he is very curious about the identity of BOSS, he has never been interested in this kind of gossip. Chapter 3 Page 1 Soon after this conversation, Jagger was appointed to join the investigation and experiment of the illegal drug "Small Syringe", and the leader of this mission was Nox. He was in trouble for a while, not because he discriminated against women, but since joining BS, BOSS closed one eye to his "pioneer" experimental methods. At least, his experiments have been carried out very freely. However, Nox's acting style is notoriously conservative. If she is told that he is doing bold experiments, she should be taken earlier notice. In addition, if the relationship between Nox and BOSS is really unusual according to what the member said last time, then Nox's opinion will be adopted by the BOSS, she is 'a hot potato'. He has to seek the consent of the BOSS before Nox can stop him. So he pretended not to know, and after obtaining the preliminary investigation results, he sent the investigation report to the BOSS as usual, but he did not expect to receive an immediate reply: Page 2 "Nox will take the lead in handling this task, and everything will be under her direction." The next day, the informant sent a sample that was suspected to be a small syringe. He flexed his hands and went to his head for a while. First, he experimented with the sample by smell and taste, but he could not distinguish its components. So he made a decision to inject the samples to himself.  After deliberation, he asked Nox for instructions. Sure enough, he was directly rejected by Nox on the spot. Out of desire for the results of this experiment, he decided to lie about the loss of the sample and intend to conduct the experiment secretly.  Unexpectedly, he was caught by the BS inspection team that night, and even reported the situation to the BOSS himself the next day. Jagger didn’t expect to see BOSS again, this is actually the case. Page 3 "Since the application has been rejected, why did you still do it?" 

A familiar voice came from behind the barrier, mixed with a trace of fatigue. "It stands to reason that I can perform general drug component analysis from sight, taste, touch or smell alone, but the composition of this sample is complicated, hence these are not enough. If I allow injection, once the sample enters my blood,  I can feel the state of its movement in my body. Through my body's reaction, it should be possible to analyze it." "Do you know why Nox rejected your proposal to do the self injection for the samples?" Page 4 "This is because there is only one sample. If there is no experimental progress after the injection, all the efforts will be ruined." "She checked your information. Every time your body is injected with a drug, it will cause irreparable damage. It will not take long for you to die in this type of experiment." Jagger was stunned. "Although BS is in a critical position, it never needs to use the lives of any members as a stepping stone." "This experiment stops here." Page 5 "Also, Nox's orders, should not be disobeyed anymore." .... After the meeting with the boss, Jagger's heart was mixed, and he sat in place and meditated for a long time. It's just that the brain, which has been in contact with the most direct chemical elements all his life, will not know this inexplicable emotion. However, he knew very well that this BS 'Miss' was indeed a bit capable. Chapter 4 Page 1 BLACK SWAN meeting minutes Permission level: advanced Recorder of the meeting: Member of the board of directors, Assistant Mr. W. Content of meeting: Page 2 【Previously, the "small syringe" incident set off a huge wave in society. This meeting mainly focused on "whether BS should develop a drug similar to the small syringe O-tube". During the meeting, some members expressed support for this approach, believing that BS, as an organization centered around Evolver and human evolution, should take the lead in researching such drugs to screen ordinary people and accelerate human evolution. Another part of the members believes that it is too early to invest in development projects before investigating the main cause of the small syringe incident and the role of the drug, and even BS should crack down on the market value of small needles from all aspects to restrain such cases. Drugs are being re-developed to fundamentally eliminate such drugs. Page 3 The two voices stayed at each other during the meeting. In the end, the BOSS decided to investigate the small syringe incident first and postponed the development of such drugs indefinitely. 】 From the beginning of this meeting, Mr. W's heart has been hanging. Since the introduction of the small syringe, the internal voice of BS has become noisy, and those desires that have been hidden have begun to move around. Many people want to get a share of the small syringe. However, what worries him is not these noisy sounds, but the thoughts of the person behind the barrier.  If that person also thinks that the power of BS is enough to develop EVOL!  Evolution potion, then the road behind BS may be even more difficult. Page 4 Mr. W looked at the faint figure behind the barrier, and seemed to be sitting upright and calmly at the moment.  Even though there was a verbal battle in the conference room, the man always looked like he was out of the picture. Until a member spoke: "I don't know about this, what is the BOSS's opinion?" Everyone finally calmed down and looked at the barrier at the end of the round table. Mr. W leaned forward unconsciously, and had to admit that he was looking forward to know what the BOSS would answer. .... When the young BOSS first took over the office, Mr. W also had a questioning attitude. Page 5 After all, BS had just experienced a mighty internal turmoil at that time. Whether the BOSS was a hero created by the time or whether it was really capable of this position, no one knew. In addition, BOSS has never announced his identity since he took the office. Except for Nox, no one has seen him in the entire BS. Whether it is the core mysterious high-level Twelve or the board of directors, they can only communicate with him through a barrier, which has caused dissatisfaction among many members. These people formed a small group in a very short period of time, trying to pull him into the abyss before the BOSS sits firmly on the throne of the BS leader. Before they did it, even in the early days of their small group, they had already been taken up by the BOSS.  He quickly uprooted the group and carried out a cleanup inside BS. Overnight, these people disappeared from BS without a shadow. Page 6 Mr. W has inquired about the whereabouts of these people through various channels, but has never found any clues. These people seem to have never existed in this world. Mr. W still remembers that in the earliest meeting after the small group was eliminated, the BOSS was silent for a long while. After sometime, many people who had been eager to move in their hearts and had not had time to put it into practice almost lost their breath. The person behind the barrier spoke: "The remaining few people who plan to instigate rebellion, the reason why you are left is because you are still helpful to BS." "Take care of the extra hands and feet within three days, don't let me do it myself." Page 7 As soon as the voice fell, many of the people present changed their faces slightly. Fortunately, he was used to looked calm under such situations. After re-adjusting the rigid posture, he realized that there was actually cold sweat behind his back. Since then, the noisy sounds inside BS have finally quieted down. Mr. W began to appreciate the decisive decisions made by the BOSS and is actually celebrating with the new change. Page 8 But that was the only time Mr. W heard such obvious emotions in the mouth of the BOSS.  Later, many meetings were held in BS. He observed that no matter what level of personnel the questioning voice was, whether they agreed with the other party’s point of view, BOSS always respected the other’s point of views and stood at a higher level. Neither makes people too ugly, nor does it show one's position too much. This allowed the members of the organization that had always been fighting to put down the war for a while, and the internal balance of BS reached an unprecedented balance. Mr. W believes that at the age of BOSS, few people can do this. Put aside the identity of a member of the BS organization, Mr. W has never seen such a method in business for so many years. If you have to name someone who can be compared with him, Li Zeyan, the president of Huarui, has a style similar to that of BOSS. It was not that he had never suspected that it was the same person, but no matter how he investigated and inquired, the information he got was very few. Chapter 5 Page 1 Maybe he stayed in a high position for too long, and there was nothing new to pass the time, so Mr. W gradually regarded the inquiring of the boss as his personal task. In addition to trying his best to investigate the identity that matches it in society, he will deliberately talk against the BOSS during meetings in an attempt to find clues.  However, no matter how he made a fuss, the people behind the barrier will always stay calm and undisturbed. As the leader of BS, BOSS can handle everything without any leakage. Page 2 At first Mr. W just felt dull. But over time, as an older member, he found that this was a serious problem. He realized that there seems to be a certain trait missing from the BOSS, which is a human commonality that any ordinary person should have. If you have to be clear, you can call this trait a human touch. For a while, this is indeed not a great thing, but it is precisely because this thing is so common, so precious enough. Mr. W is worried that people who lack this trait will not sit in the position of leader for too long, or that such person will once again lead BS to an extreme. Page 3 "What is my opinion, it is up to you to convince me." The deep voice pulled his thoughts back to the meeting room, and seeing the other members in deep thoughts, he realized that the BOSS had just answered the question of the member just now. He lowered his head and modified the voice in his heart a bit, then raised his hand signaling to speak. "What we should do now is to figure out the ins and outs of the main incident, who developed the small syringe and for what purpose the opponent is an enemy or a friend. These key information are very important." Page 4 After hearing this, many members tried to refute, but they were preempted by the BOSS. "All the resources of BS have always revolved around Evolver's evolutionary issues. At this time, instead of developing evolutionary drugs, they are investigating small syringes. Is it not upside-down?" Members supporting the research and development of drugs echoed. Mr. W's heart sank. Does the BOSS support the development of such drugs? He tried to swallow the suspicion that was surging up, and couldn't help but tried to make an excuse. Page 5 "On the contrary. At this stage, ordinary people already have a lot of opposition to Evolver. In addition, after the main incident, many ordinary people and Evolver's body have suffered varying degrees of damage. The development of small syringes is very powerful. It may come with a hostile attitude. In the long run, Evolver evolution is a major event for all human beings. If we do not investigate clearly and blindly follow the trend to develop evolutionary drugs, then we are likely to fall into each other’s trap. It'll makes things difficult for BS to move forward with evolution in the future." Page 6 Perhaps he said too much. Once again, there was silence in the conference room, only the sound of regular fingers tapping on the tabletop came from behind the barrier, which sounded a certain kind of calmness. Mr. W has a foreboding that perhaps BS's development of evolutionary drugs is already a certainty, and perhaps his painstaking persuasion is just futile. Just when he was frustrated, the sound of the man's fingers tapping on the tabletop stopped. "The reason is good enough to convince me." "The development date for the evolution drugs will be postponed indefinitely." The meeting room became noisy again, and many members were angry. Page 7 "I said, my decision is determined by your rhetoric." "Of course I respect different opinions. As long as your reasons are valid." Those members who had been crying out to support the development of the drug were hesitating at this moment, and could not give a reason strong enough to bring the situation back, and had to accept their orders and took their seats. "Since there isn't, that's it for today." The BOSS issued an eviction order and the meeting room was cleared within a minute.

Page 8 Only Mr. W is still sitting on the spot, he has an important question that he wants to confirm to the BOSS. "BOSS, what is your side of position in this matter?" The BOSS seemed to stand up, walked behind the chair, and finally stood by the window behind the barrier. "My position has been made very clear." Mr. W walked out of the conference room with this answer, which was not an answer. Page 9 The moment he stepped out of the door, he suddenly remembered that before he had a long discussion in the meeting, the BOSS raised a sharp question uncharacteristically.  This question seems to be on the side of the members who support the drug, but it was after answering this question that the BOSS was quickly ‘convinced’ by his own reasons. Mr. W stood there thinking for a moment, then he stretched his brows and frowned all day. It turned out that today, I was ‘utilized’ by the BOSS. Everything he said today was just that the BOSS used his own mouth to silence other members. But this kind of use is very useful. Page 10 After thinking about this, Mr. W let out a long breath. The problem he had been worried about had been settled.

[pathofcomet]

and it’s just around the corner

fandom: stardew valley 

pairing: sebastian/player (female)

summary:  She’s a fool – she tries to tell herself. There’s nothing she can offer Sebastian that would make him stay in this village he so obviously loathes. She’s just dumb enough to have fallen for the man she cannot even bring herself to ask to love her back.

rating: explicit // word count: 25k // AO3

She cannot remember the farm per say, just the proof that she’s been there once: a dusty, yellowed photo of herself, smiling in a pink sundress under the shade of a gigantic oak, 4 years old and beaming. She can vaguely bring back the savour of cranberry jam on her tongue, the authentic, slightly sour taste that only meant home-made. She thinks they had a gray cat, and she can feel the smell of gasoline in her nose, from the long car ride there as a child. That’s all she remembers about her grandparents’ old farm; and anything of that lifestyle is completely lost upon her, or her memories of her grandpa. They haven’t been crazily close either: she was busy pursuing her education too far away to allow proper visits, and the phone signal failed the old man too much to allow even constant communication. When he died, they buried him in the city, next to his wife, and everything about the way he lived his life became hazy and forgotten in the lives of the living.

Which is probably why it is so hard to comprehend what she’s reading now, in her cubicle at work, defeated under her 16th time this month of overwork. Her grandpa was known for being eccentric, which is why she expected to see a card with hey, we all die in the end! or something written on it, and not the dreams of her childhood offered on a plate to her. She stares at the paper, reads and rereads it for 7 times before she’s convinced it’s actually real.

She’s touched at the care in his words, at the oozing affection on that piece of paper. It’s something that she didn’t know she was missing until now. A care sent across generations, to reach her – and when she feels like she needs it most. She doesn’t know if she should scream or cry or laugh.

She looks around: there are only a couple of other workers left in the office at the moment, in the late hours of the night. There’s delivery food all across the others’ empty desks, and a few of the girls switched their shoes, from heels to sneakers. And yet, as she stops, the clanking on the keyboard never ends around her, and the neon light remain buzzing above her, the static noise of her real life nightmare. The sigh coming from a co-worker several seats away is deafening in her ears. As she’s writing her resignation letter, for her boss to find on his desk at the first hour in the morning, she can’t help but notice how her vision shakes, how she can’t quite straighten her back under the pain of hours and hours of being hunched at a desk.

It’s not even the irony of it all, dying in a storm of unfair overworking while those above her wallow in money, that upsets her more. But rather, the way in which she cannot have any satisfaction out of it anymore. As a graduate, she thought she’d find happiness in a corporate job that pays well, but now the comfort of money means nothing when she doesn’t have the time to even spend it, and she can’t even recall what her hobbies are, let alone when’s the last time she did anything else but work, do house chores and sleep.

She cannot recall the last time she met up with some friends, visited new places or ordered online something else but a new pair of heels or a new shirt for work. Gods, now that she hit the brake on her wreck of a life, she can’t stop noticing how pathetic she’s been.

Her hands tremble as she signs the paper, as she tosses her meagre office belongings into her bag, as she pushes the elevator button. She’s already overthinking the decision, but it’s already made and she can only worry about what’s to be done next now. She’s 100% sure she’s not made for this, she has zero knowledge of how to take care of a farm and she still screams when she sees a spider in her apartment. But she’s tired, there’s a tiredness that never seems to let loose, and no matter how much she sleeps on Sundays, she wakes up feeling like she has her hands and feet tied. Even if to only rest for a while, and the whole ordeal would still have been worth it.

Sleep doesn’t come easily to her that night. She reads the letter over and over again, she measures the weight of the keys in her palms, she tries to put puzzle pieces together, from old photos she brings up from hidden boxes. Nothing tells her she made the right decision, though in her old photos, everyone looks so happy while on the farm. Maybe she didn’t even truly get to the end of her patience, just a bad day, maybe she still could have taken it for a while. After all, it’s not like she had that bad of a life. But then, it’s not like it was that good either. And once she started thinking of it, the idea of change became hauntingly tempting. The potential in this new place is infinite, and so, so terrifying.

But a change nonetheless.

She spends the next couple of weeks in a frenzy: selling most of her belongings, keeping only the strictly necessary. She keeps the pictures, of course. A few books, only those that she read during university and she felt like they changed her life, though she hasn’t revisited those stories since. Maybe she’ll finally have the time to, now. She sells or donates all her office clothes, expensive shirts and bags – all gone, because they remind her of some kind of work she never wants to do again in her life.

When she stops to count what’s left, looking at her near-empty apartment, two suitcases and a backpack put aside, she’s overwhelmed at how pointlessly she lived her life up until this point. She has nothing to show for all the efforts she’s made, and she can feel the skin all over her body itch with the realisation, itch for something else to do.

She doesn’t look back, as she’s returning the keys of her rented apartment. She has been paying expensively for the chance to live on her own in the big city, and there’s nothing but bitterness towards that idea anyway. She waits in the bus station with music playing at the highest volume, drowning out an incoming panic attack – as she’s struggling to count up to 10, reassure herself that she’s a grown fucking adult and that she can do something as easy as just moving someplace new.

Still, the scenarios roll in her mind, unperturbed, and she almost throws up thrice before she reaches her destination – and then she almost throws up again, as she’s watching the bus pull away, leaving her alone in the middle of nowhere. The sun is bright, but too bright and her clothes are sticking to her skin, even if it’s barely early spring, and the air is fresh. A fairy-tale start to her new adventure, and yet she feels like crying right then and there, a fain headache booming at her temples from all the anxiety she had to push away.

She’s already exhausted and it’s barely noon. She starts pulling at her suitcases, though the road makes it a tricky and tiring job. Then, just as she’s ready to take her first break, a hand grabs the handle, and she stares up in the face of a kindly looking old man.

Mayor Lewis; she still remembers the face, as he is the kind of person who probably always looked the same. They’ve last seen each other at her grandfather’s funeral, so there’s a bit of awkwardness hanging between the two of them, as she’s allowing him to help her with her luggage.

A redheaded woman is waiting for them in her truck, a bit of a distance away, and she helps them with her stuff. It’s easy to make conversation when friendly people are pushing it forward, and they seem way too enthusiastic about her presence. They don’t even comment about her sneakers, totally unfit for most of the roads in the town, or her outfit, that would rip or get dirty the second she’d encounter a field.

She already has a room prepared at Lewis’ place, there’s no way her old house can offer her proper living conditions just yet. That’s not a jab directed at her, rather at the passing of time and the overgrown state of her courtyard. But there’s nothing mean behind their comments, and they’re even offering all the help they can.

She’s trying to come up with a list of things that she might need, but Robin is already writing one of her own.

“She’s our architect,” Lewis whispers, winking at her in secrecy.

It’s weird and scary and she doesn’t know how to feel about it. Back in the city, she could have crumbled on the sidewalk and nobody would have cared. Here, it seems everyone jumps at the chance to do just that, help and care, and she’s terrified out of her skin. Her thanks are muffled by the weird knot in her throat. When balancing things out in her head, there’s nothing she can give them in equal measures.

The key in her hand feels foreign, but yet it’s that thing that grounds her to the moment, doesn’t let her slip away in that part of her brain that makes her forget things even happened. The house is, of course, a disaster, though someone had the good thinking of covering the furniture. The place is small, and it needs a good dusting, maybe even a new coat of paint. Robin, by her side, is still doing her job.

“Is there anything you want in particular?”

“No, not really. I don’t think so?”

She’s lost and overwhelmed. She’d like to just sit somewhere and start unpacking, maybe go and switch all of her things again actually, because there’s no way she can fit in with these people. But Lewis’ arm is around her shoulder, urging her back the way they came, promising her his special vegetable mix and green tea.

Once finally out of his sight, and comfortably settled in his extra bedroom, she squeezes a pillow close to her chest, hiding her face in it, and starts crying. She sobs – for the grandparents she didn’t properly appreciate while alive, that still left her with so much. For the chance that not many have to switch things around. For the state in which the farm is, and the immense effort she’ll have to put in building it back together. For the pain in her arms, the burn so unfamiliar that it must be only the sign of something new. She’s overwhelmed and scared, and hours pass before she finally falls asleep,

The next morning, she refuses even the breakfast, and immediately heads towards her place, luggage in tow. Mayor Lewis promised he’ll solve the problem of electricity and water running back to the place, so at least she can forget the administrative part.

She greets everyone she passes by, because otherwise the staring just gets too unbearable, and though they’re curious, they also remain polite too. But her courtyard and house are truly disastrous. She’s glad it’s still so early in the year, so the weeds didn’t grow yet on the path towards her door, so at least she can focus on dusting off the room, polishing the floor. She unpacks with nostalgic music blasting from her phone: plates in one drawer, her clothes in the other two. She builds herself a nightstand out of all the books she brought with her, and she washes the curtains by hand, letting them dry out in the sun.

She goes to the town for bedsheets and even more cleaning products, buys a basil plant for the windowsill. The place is small, smaller even than her city apartment, and she has nothing of her own to properly decorate it with, give it a specific charm, so she allows herself to get lost between the small isles of the store, and pick whatever piques her fancy. But this is fine, she thinks. This is, after all, the true definition of a new start.

She watches the sun set from her porch – she thinks she’d like an armchair for the place, it’d make a lovely reading pace if it’s not rainy, and there’s a soft lull from the TV inside, where the weather prognosis for the next day rattles on.

She finds grandpa’s old gardening books, and she starts reading them. She cleans up a small portion of the land, plants some seeds she picked based on Pierre’s recommendations. Gathers wood from the end of the forest that runs almost up to her house, practices splitting it in smaller branches, that she can carry and gather in the small tool shed, for the winter.

During the first night that it rains, she opens her door to a stray, lost dog. She hugs him close to her all through the night, as he whimpers and warms up – and in the morning she names him Max, and buys him dog food and a colourful bowl. She stops feeling so alone, so lost, a purpose forming, even though she can’t quite name it.

When too many days pass with her cooped only at her place, letters and requests for visits start pouring in her mailbox. Sometimes mayor Lewis comes pick her himself, walking around the town with her, stopping to present her to any villager they encounter. She feels like a circus freak being paraded around like this, but she smiles, wonders if Max is getting bored at home or if she could walk through the forest in search of some fruits.

 ***

Then, when the weather prognosis tells of many sunny days in a row, Robin shows up at her doorsteps, can of paint in one hand, brushes in the other – and her son behind her, to help her out.

She watches him, fiddling on the spot, looking like he certainly doesn’t want to be here and she smiles. Well, that’s at least a feeling that she can relate to, even when in her bed after a tiring day, she still sometimes yearns for everything that this place is not. Max helps. In this case as well, as he runs to the door and immediately jumps on him.

“Max, no!” she chides, though he settles calmly on panting up at the man for pats. Luckily, he hasn’t slammed him to the ground, as he tends to do with her, but that’s still no proper way of greeting strangers. “I’m so sorry…”

“Sebastian,” he says. “There’s no problem, really.” He’s scratching the dog between his ears, absentmindedly looking in through the door, at the small place she now calls home. There’s nothing much in there, but she finds herself growing protective over it anyway, at his gaze.

Max, the traitor, is now cuddled down at his feet. From the side, Robin laughs.

Her and Sebastian move the furniture, as Robin tapes newspaper on the wooden floor. She prepares fresh lemonade for her visitors and helpers before they start painting, and she takes a short break just to water her crops. They do the work in silence, mostly, just her phone turned on to fill up the space – and without mayor Lewis’ fast mouth, she isn’t certain what she could possibly talk about. From time to time, Robin asks Sebastian something – regarding his sister, or some things she asked him about before, which sounds a lot like nagging so she prefers to stay out of it.

She thanks them many, many times before they leave for the day. Especially since it was the weekend, and she’s sure they just threw away a perfectly free day on helping her put together her house. She just feels more and more indebted towards all these people. Even if Sebastian didn’t look her way even once.

 ***

She starts going to the local library, borrowing books and learning more and more things about the farm. She accepts the quests from the bulletin board, and in exchange she asks for fishing tips or some town history. She starts taking evening walks, with Max, picking up acorns. She gets stronger and better at all the farm work. She places various orders, starting to gather syrup from the trees near her house – and one lazy day, she makes jam, that she then sells.

She starts counting the money, making plans for the farm. She buys two chickens, and the one day when no one in the town sees her, it is because she struggled all the time to build a fence so that they won’t step all over crops and no fox would reach them during the night.

 ***

Everyone is friendly, showing up at her door with gifts for her new move: a handmade mug from Leah, a beautiful seashell from Elliot, an actual functional first aid kit from Harvey. She suspects the mayor’s doing behind all these kindness acts, and yet it’s with a reverent kind of gestures that she finds a place for all of them in her small house. She starts adding some kind of adjectives to this cast of characters that enter her life.

But with Sebastian, something’s different. She doesn’t know what makes her notice him again; that something that made him stand out from the mass of people she met in the past few weeks. Maybe it’s not even just one single thing, but a mix: like how he is the son of the kindest lady, paler than the farmers or football players, how he doesn’t want to stand out at all, how she has to go out of her way to find him, instead of the other way around.

Most of all, it’s the desperation she can feel off of him. There’s a force in him that cannot make peace with how things are for him at the moment – and it’s the familiarity of it that pulls her in, lets her gaze linger on him for a bit longer, makes her ask about him while smiling in the most innocent way, sipping tea in Robin’s office.

***

They’re not that different; she’s easy to fit in the village life, mostly because she’s so pliable for others, knowing the memory of her grandpa is attached to her as well. She sometimes feels like the older residents of the town look through her, instead of directly at her, and see the ghost of someone else they used to know. And the days pass, things fall together, and yet in her chest, there’s a clock ticking away, counting down the time spent here, because if she was looking for something like belonging, it seems this town buried it away with her grandpa, and things don’t seem that different from how they used to be. She just has dirtier nails now, and some decaying make-up skills.

So she never visits without a purpose, doesn’t get too friendly with most of them. She spends days in a row on her farm, ploughing the land, watering the plants, feeding the animals. Task upon task, she goes through all of them, grateful for how it’s silencing her mind, giving her the time and space to breathe. If she finishes early, she likes to go fishing, the breeze nice against her sun-warmed face, especially as the dusk approaches.

It’s the simplicity of life that lulls her into wanting something more, eventually, tentatively. She visits Robin, as she’s closing the store, so they can share some fresh-picked fruits while watching the sun set. She meets up with the mayor for chess during Sundays, stories of two best friends half a century ago embedded in every sigh, and she wins every time and that’s how she knows he just lets her. When she passes by to drop something for the museum, she spends the remaining afternoon in the library, browsing the collection, reading for the children fresh out of classes that ask her to do so.

But if anyone in Pelican Town would be asked, they wouldn’t be able to tell people that much about their newest villager. In truth, even for those closest to her, there’s an aura of mystery: whatever her life was before, she doesn’t go into details. Whatever and for however long she might remain in their lives, she doesn’t say.

To Sebastian, that’s what makes it easy. He doesn’t expect her to tell him anything, since she’s not pressing her curiosities either. Probably why she opens so willingly, why she creates a routine around his. She always stops at the edge of the river, where she knows she’ll find him in the evenings. They never talk for long, or of important things – but she thinks, the magic is in staring together at the same scenery, feeling much of the same things. After the third time, she asks for a cigarette from him, and she winks at him when he looks just a tiny bit surprised.

This is how it begins. The rest she almost doesn’t even notice.

 ***

She remembers the Egg festival; she’s sure she took part in one of the hunts back when she was little, though the details are foggy in her mind. She doesn’t remember any of the villagers, but she’s been a very shy child, and not even the promise of bunny chocolates was enough to persuade her back then.

Still, she worked for so long in a corporation, at this point the spirit of competition is embedded into her. She wakes up early, and she wears one of her dresses from before, even if she has to match it with grandpa’s old jeans jacket. She even puts on make-up, manages to water her plants as well before she’s walking towards the town.

She officially meets Maru and Demetrius, as they’ve been so busy during her past visits. Marnie clasps her in-between her arms, exclaims how pretty she is when not trying to imitate her house’s looks, and loudly kisses both her cheeks. Gus waves at her, and keeps presenting various plates to her, and by the time she can excuse herself, she’s glad she hasn’t eaten any breakfast. Jas and Vincent come at her yelling tag! and she spends the next half an hour running around, followed by the sometimes annoyed, sometimes happy smiles of the other villagers.

She buys strawberry seeds, more on a whim, because she was craving for some, and gets herself a cute bunny plush, since she’d had trouble sleeping, and she’s sure Max would appreciate her hugging a non-living thing more. She feels like she fits more, now, that she’s surrounded by everyone else, and she realizes that she knows them all, that they know her back – and there’s no outright hostility.

She greets Sebastian, and meets his friends. She compliments Abigail’s hair, Sam compliments her instead. He’s friendly and outgoing, compared to the other two in his group, but she notices Sebastian’s fleeting smile at the toy in her arms, so she straightens her back even more.

As soon as mayor Lewis starts his announcement, Abigail immediately seems more excited, especially since she is presented as the winner for the past decade. However, by the time the day ends, Pelican Town has a new Egg Hunt winner.

The straw hat doesn’t fit her outfit, and it’s not quite yet a necessary accessory, but she’s beaming at every villager that comes to congratulate her, even if she’s already so old and she shouldn’t be so happy about beating a few 10 year olds. Even Abigail is a good sports and promises she will beat her next year.

Next year – she wonders if she’ll even be around for that long. Her saved-up money is slowly trickling down, as she keeps buying things that she needs, and she has no idea yet how much profit she’ll be able to make at harvest time. She feels better knowing her doubts don’t show to others.

She walks part of her way home with Robin and her family. Maru is happily telling her something about her research, though it goes over her head and she doesn’t understand much of what’s going on. Demetrius and Robin walk several steps ahead, arms linked, and it’s a sweet sight to see, that they can be so close even after so many years.

Then, before she takes her turn to her farm, after everyone else said their goodbyes, Sebastian looks up at her.

“It suits you,” he says, so low she almost misses it, nodding his head at her hat. She blushes under the street lamp, but he’s already turned his back on her and he can’t see, so she can go on her own way and pretend it never happened.

 ***

She starts going to the mines, even if everyone tells her she better not. But she needs better tools, more resources and something to do on rainy days, so she goes anyway. She comes out late into the night, dirtier than she’s ever been, spider cobwebs stuck in her hair, but her backpack heavy.

The next morning, she struggles packing some presents for Robin and Lewis, for all the help they’ve showered her in ever since she moved. She doesn’t have much to offer, some syrup and a jar of jam, a few eggs. But as she’s going into town, there are three presents that she’s carefully carrying around in her bag.

She stops by Lewis first, sits on his stairs with a steaming mug of coffee between her hands, as he waters his small garden – and they chat about the weather, the fishing days that Lewis has programmed, their favourite Stardrop meal. The days get warmer and warmer, as they’re slowly rolling towards summer, and she’s feeling peaceful, listening to the mayor’s chatter, his grunts as he digs around, his yelling when she offers to help him around.

She drops by Clint to let him examine some of the stuff she found underground, and by the time she reaches Robin’s place, the older woman is taking her lunch break. She’s exclaiming happily at the gift, and invites her to stay for lunch. She helps her with the plates, and while Robin goes to gather the rest of her family, she sends her to get Sebastian.

She has to breathe deep, count to 10, before she has the courage to knock at his door. There’s the sound of something tumbling to the floor, and she winces; more shuffling, and the door finally opens to reveal a somewhat sleepy looking Sebastian. It looks like he hasn’t brushed his hair yet, as it sticks out in odd directions, and in his own space, he’s wearing some old, washed-out t-shirt that is several sizes too large, and sweats. She stares at him, entirely endeared, but also deeply aware that there’s a line she has just crossed by seeing him like this – and she’s not sure she was allowed to.

“Hi,” she says, at the same time he says “Shit”, closing the door on her. She opens and closes her mouth several times, trying to come up with a proper way to reach to this, but her mind coming up blank.

Eventually, she lamely says “Robin said lunch’s ready,” before she leaves for the kitchen again. Demetrius is already seated at the table, looking up at his wife like she hung up the sun on the sky. Maru refuses to show up, as she’s too invested in her research, but there’s the slam of a door from downstairs, and Sebastian eventually shows up, just as his step-father takes his first bite from his plate of spaghetti. Their guest has not yet picked up her fork.

Sebastian is now wearing actual jeans, and his hair looks a bit more tamed. He sits next to her, and the four of them eat in relative silence, though she’s obsessively thinking of her knee, against Sebastian’s, under the table and she wants to fucking swear at herself, for acting like a fucking cowardly high-schooler.

“So, why did you move to Pelican Town?” Demetrius asks her, in the end. She notices him wincing immediately after the dull thud from under the table, and she imagines that was Robin kicking him from asking a question that no one had dared poise to her until now.

She finishes chewing the food in her mouth, swallowing a bit more painful.

“I needed a change,” she says eventually, entirely too vague.

“From? You should tell Sebastian about your city experience, because he’s obsessed with leaving the town.”

There’s a disapproving tone in his voice that makes her wince, but her head snaps up at Sebastian, who looks both entirely annoyed and disappointed. She’d like to press her finger to the frown now so obvious on his forehead.

“Really?” she mumbles lamely instead. Sebastian’s now looking at her, and although across the table his parents are bickering with each other in low whispers, he doesn’t break the eye contact. He just nods at her question, grabs another bite of food – the words won’t make it any better.

She always thought that the people in this town are happy to live here, heck even she’s trying to understand the charm of the place and why her grandpa never left it. She always thought that if there is someone to leave it, that’d be her, in an example of another of her life’s failures. But here’s Sebastian, burning with a yearning for a city just as hers to leave it was.

He takes her back home, assuring her that his lunch break is long enough to allow him to do that. They’re walking side by side in companionable silence. Sebastian, unlike his father, doesn’t ask her anything, so when they reach her property, she hands him her last package.

“Can I?” he asks, a hand already tugging at the ribbon, and she smiles at him. Inside, there’s an assortment of minerals: quartz, obsidians. She’s found them during her time in the mines, and the only thing she somewhat remembers from her dialogue with Maru is that her brother loves this stuff.

“What’s this for?” he says, voice a little chocked, laughing at the end, embarrassed and overwhelmed.

“Thanks for that day,” she says. Then, more unsure… “And good luck for the future?”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

She’s already turned around on her feet, a hand up in the air in goodbye.

The next morning, even if Sebastian never eats breakfast, he makes toast and eats it with strawberry jam, from a jar cutely decorated in stickers, where in cursive, their newest villager wrote for Robin and family <3.

 ***

She goes to JojaMart to buy an electric kettle; she can’t quite yet afford to get her kitchen built in, so she’s been eating at the Stardrop Saloon or lived on oatmeal and salads. But the mornings are dreadful with instant coffee and cold tap water, so she’s finally investing in something to make her life a bit better. This lifestyle reminds her of being a student in the dorms, and it’s not something she thought she’ll ever return to.

Sam looks around for his managers, and when there’s none around, he stops next to her and they chat by the vegetable stall. She’s frowning at the price, way higher than what they can find in the town and what she sells her own products for.

“Capitalism,” Sam says brightly, tugging at his employee lanyard, and she laughs at him.

“Oh, trust me, I know all about that.”

He wiggles his eyebrows at her, which makes her snort. Shane, his co-worker, turns to stare at them, but he’s not telling them on, so she moves one step closer to him.

“I’ve worked in customer care for Joja Corporation.”

Sam mimics throwing up, turning serious again only when she’s elbowing his side. She’s painfully aware of all the cameras in the store, after all this time away from anything of the sorts.

“But for real, you’re way better in Pelican Town,” he says, even if she’s not yet quite convinced.

But he doesn’t continue pressing the matter. Instead, Sam invites her the next Friday for an evening at the Saloon, where him, Sebastian and Abigail are supposed to play live a few of their songs. She clasps her hands together, and agrees immediately. She used to love this kind of thing: but it’s been so long since she allowed herself to take an evening off, both in her life back in the city, and the life here.

 ***

She’s already a regular, so Emily nowadays greets her with a hug. Though this time she whistles suggestively at her outfit. Since it’s supposed to be a more special night, she chose a low cut blouse to go with skinny jeans, and she’s no more a formless body buried under work clothes. The only make-up is a very dark lipstick. Her… friends, she supposes, are already on the side, tuning their instruments. Sam grins at her, waving her at the table Gus saved up for them, where he ordered pizza for everyone.

They’re not playing for a long time, maybe half an hour, but by the end, everyone is loudly clapping at their performance. She’s the only one whooping, and Sam is loudly laughing at her embarrassed grin afterwards, runs to fall into her waiting arms and twirls her around in the air, feet not touching the floor.

“Who knew our biggest fan would be you?” he says, helping her pat her hair pack into place.

“I did. I mean, your band has Abigail.”

The girl in questions frowns a bit at her, suspicious that it’s less of a compliment than she tried to make it, turns on her feet as she moves to the music box, tosses a coin in and picks a song. It takes a few seconds for her choice to start loudly booming in the saloon, but as soon as she does, she moves to grab at Sebastian’s arm, dragging him to the dancefloor, though he looks like he’s a lamb taken to sacrifice.

Sam laughs at the two of them, then turns back to his new friend.

“Do you think these two will ever hook up?”

She chokes on the slice of pizza that she’s eating, punching at her chest so she can breathe again. Someone slides in the chair next to her to the table, a hand slapping her hard on the back until she can breathe properly again. Then, frowning, she turns towards the newcomer, because she can’t bear looking at Sebastian and Abigail, together, dancing. She doesn’t think she can look at them without imagining them doing exactly what Sam asked her about, and it’s a shaming thought that she burns down. Shane, the one sitting next to her now, has already picked a slice of his own from their order, and nodded in greetings at Sam.

Sam leaves to talk with Penny, spending enough time as it is in Shane’s company, so Shane moves even closer to her, so he can be heard over the loud music. He’s a bit of an asshole, as he’s looking nowhere else but at her cleavage and the skin she’s showing with her choice of clothes. He’s not even trying to hide it, licking his lips, speaking without even trying to lift his eyes.

“Didn’t know the sunshine and the emo buy are hiding such a beauty between themselves,” he says, snaking an arm around her waist, shoving the second pint of beer he arrived with in her direction. He already smells like the stuff though, which means he’s at least tipsy, if not outright drunk yet. There’s offense in the way he said those nicknames, horrible on their own as well, but she’s sitting between the wall and his body and he’s a man showing interest in her, clearly going out of his way to make it obvious.

She takes several big gulps from her beer, and then turns towards him, smiling. He can’t tell it is strained.

“Well, I’m here now,” she says, and the hand around her squeezes in response. She lets him talk, mostly shit about the town, then shit about himself, and she keeps drinking and drinking, glass after glass of alcohol, because then at least she doesn’t have to reply. In the dark, they must look pretty cosy to the others, because no one else returns to the table – and by the time she remembers she is supposed to have friends around, and looks around for them, her vision is unfocused and she can’t make out the shapes and figures all around.

But she can notice the slightly grown stubble on Shane, how he’s now so, so close to her, his lips brushing against her ear each time he tells her something. She feels like she’s about to suffocate. But he tells her about how beautiful she is, how hard he makes her – and he guides her hand to his pants, where she indeed can feel her effect, and it’s a surge of pleasure and power. She squeezes him through his pants, and he groans in her ear. Her nipples perk up. And then his lips move closer, to her neck, where his tongue is lapping at her skin, sucking against the space. She feels hot all over, in a way that she doesn’t know if she likes or not. His other hand is now fondling with her breasts through her blouse, and she gasps – which only makes him to go at it harder. His mouth finds her, his tongue moving against hers immediately. She’s lost in time, doesn’t know for how long he does it – her body becoming lighter and lighter with each swipe of his saliva against her lips.

Then, a cough from behind Shane. She snaps out of her daze, looks up. Makes eye contact with Sebastian, which feels as effective as a cold shower to her fogged mind. She yanks Shane’s hands off her, but he’s unbothered, turns to look at Sebastian with something like disgust and boredom.

“Can we help you?” Shane says. She hates how the word we sounds from his mouth.

Sebastian doesn’t bother to even look at the drunk guy, instead addressing her only.

“Do you want to go home? The others left already, but it’s getting pretty late…” He stops to stare at Shane, and she wordlessly nods at him. He starts moving instantly, shoving Shane away so he can grab her wrist and help her out of her chair. She needs a few seconds to stabilize herself on her feet, stop the dizzying headache that hit her at the sudden movement.

“Come on, man, what do you think you’re doing?” Shane asks, though he also has troubles standing on his own feet. He makes do with leaning against the table, doing his best to look as menacing as possible.

In his arms, she shudders at the sound of his voice, clutches her fingers around Sebastian’s leather jacket. He doesn’t move away, but he doesn’t want to touch her either, so he just stands still.

“She’s coming with me,” is all he says, and when he starts towards the door, she follows silently. He offers her jacket, which he picked up earlier, before checking on her, and she hangs her head even lower in shame. The cold, outside air is quickly sobering her up, and she really can’t believe she lost herself, just as if she were a college freshman. She burns with embarrassment.

Once out, Sebastian moves a bit away from her, offering her space, though he always extends an arm in her direction when she stumbles on both existent and imaginary obstacles. The silence now is excruciating.

“Say something,” she croaks, her throat hurting from all the alcohol.

“Are you okay?”

His voice is soft, and he stops, looks at her for the first time since the start of all this situation. She knows she probably looks like a mess, lipstick smeared all around her mouth, clothes hanging awkwardly, but his eyes just search hers. She suddenly feels like crying. He must see it too, because he’s moving closer to her.

“Can I-” he tries, sighs, moves a hand through his hair in frustration. “Can I touch you?”

She nods, but he doesn’t move.

“I’ll need verbal confirmation.”

“Yes.”

She’s outright staring at him now, as he makes his way to her, cups her face in between his hands. His fingers are cold against her flushed skin, but it grounds her to the moment. Sebastian’s eyes are moving now, across her face: stop at her jaw, her neck, where Shane sucked painful love bites against her skin, visible even only in the light coming from the street lamps. He hesitates before moving his gaze downwards, where similar marks were left by his fingers against her tits. She feels like used goods, even if there is no judgement from Sebastian.

“Did you want that?” he asks again, sounding deadly serious, so she’s trying to think equally as seriously about his question. It’s hard, her thoughts all jumbled up, a soft kind of edge to everything going on in her head.

“I don’t know,” she answers finally, her head pressing more firmly against his palm. Sebastian’s thumbs are now moving softly against her jaw, and she wants to purr, just like a cat, maybe hang on to him for more of his warmth.

“God,” he says, and it sounds like a swearword. He unglues himself from her, extends an arm that she gracefully takes as they continue on the road to her house. He doesn’t say anything more until they arrive on her porch, though he looks like he’s thinking very hard. She’d like to press her finger to the frown on his forehead.

Max is happily snoring on the warm ground, and she lets go of Sebastian to run the short distance to her dog. She goes on her knees, grabs Max’s head in her hands and coos at him like she would to a baby, talks lovesick nonsense to the dog, pats him all over.

Her voice sounds fucking cute, Sebastian thinks, but instead he fishes something from the pockets of his jacket, bends down so he can press it in her palms. She immediately turns to look at him, eyes big and questioning.

“Take those in the morning, okay? You’ll need them,” is all he says, raising a hand and waving it in a goodbye.

 ***

Sebastian is right. She wakes two hours later, empties all the contents of her stomach, tears burning at her eyes, and when she wakes again, she thanks all the gods that outside it is raining, because she only gets up to get a glass of water and swallow the pills. Her head is killing her, and her heart aches in embarrassment at the way she acted. She hangs between screaming out in frustration at her own self and complaining about being hangover the whole day, hating herself so, so very much.

She still shoots Sebastian a text, thanking him for taking care of her, in so many ways, the night before. He leaves her on read.

For the next week, she busies herself with work on the farm. She makes another batch of jam jars, which she sends to Lewis for selling. She plants a new tree sapling, harvests strawberries, even builds an ugly-looking scarecrow out of an old broom. She cuts down wood, saves up stacks of it for when she’ll eventually afford Robin’s services. She goes in the mines, once or twice.

Then one of Lewis’ invitations is waiting in her mailbox, for another festival. Spring is coming to an end, already a sweeter, warmer breeze in the air, so the whole town is to celebrate the exact thing.

 ***

But Pelican Town is a small place, and so it never forgets gossip too easily. On that evening, enough pairs of eyes saw her fumbling in the dark with Shane, and so enough pairs of eyes are now watching her suspiciously as she greets the mayor. She’s wearing some city dress again, though more modest, and ribbons in her hair. She’s forcing herself to smile at everyone she encounters, trying not to seem so affected by the outright cold shoulder.

Sam still greets her, though, grabbing her in his arms.

“Oh, handsome!” she says, and laughs when he’s looking around, to check if anyone else heard her. But he is wearing a suit, his hair is gelled down and he smells like his mother. His eyes are searching hers though, and she thinks Sebastian might have said something to his friend. But thankfully Sam mentions nothing.

She looks behind him, at Sebastian, dressed in a costume as well. Her heart starts beating faster in her chest; his hair is pushed back, and his forehead is now uncovered. He sits relaxed, his hands in his pockets, like he doesn’t really want to be there and she hasn’t seen someone look that heartbreakingly gorgeous.

“You too,” she says. Sebastian raises an eyebrow at her. “Look good, I mean,” she clarifies, and she clears her throat before the awkwardness chokes her.

It’s a big understatement, but it’s the best she can do right now. There’s a small smile that she gets in reply. On the other side of the field, by Robin’s side, Abigail, Penny and Maru look absolutely stunning in their festival dresses, with the flower crowns on top of their heads. They’re laughing at one of Abigail’s stories, and they’re just beautiful and young and entirely enrapturing. She wonders if she didn’t fuck it up so badly earlier, she would have been invited to be one of them.

This time around, there’s not as much mingling with the people as earlier in the season; people are a bit warier, though she supposes she deserves it. She’s busy setting down a mat under a blossoming tree, preparing some kind of picnic and viewing spot at the same time.

“You look beautiful,” she hears from behind her, and she turns around to find Shane. A bit behind him, Marnie is engaged in a conversation with the mayor, and by his side, there’s Jas, who immediately shoves her sandals away so she can step on her mat and sit next to her.

She offers her tea and strawberries, places her own hat on top of the child’s head to protect her from the sun, who squeals in delight that she can show off the winning prize of the egg hunt. Then, she turns back to Shane:

“Is she your daughter?”

“Gods, no. She’s my goddaughter.”

She sighs, relieved a bit. In the morning, Shane looks just scruffy, some kind of sober, but his face is still red and puffy, sign of alcoholism. She knows Jas lives with him and Marnie, and it can’t be a good environment for a child, but she’s heard the rumours that he’s not that much at home anyway. She’s worrying for the young girl, but she also trusts Marnie to handle the subject, not really her place to say anything anyway.

Shane moves closer, his hand grabbing the end of the scarf she’s wearing around her neck, tugging so it comes undone between his fingers. She gasps, palm gluing to the skin there, reaching out for him.

“Give it back,” she all but growls it out, eyes frantically looking around, hoping no one is actually looking their way, since everyone is focused on preparing for the dance.

“I did that, right?” he asks, finally stopping, and she takes back her scarf, hangs her head low, so that her hair can cover her movement, as she ties it back in place.

“Yes, you fucking asshole,” she spits, but doesn’t move away from him.

“I was honest, you know. About you looking beautiful. Then and now too.”

“Thank you,” she says, and stays in place even as Shane gets closer to her. He’s also dressed up, wearing an actual shirt and everything, his jaw freshly shaven. He even looks somewhat attractive, and just like last time, she’s grateful for the attention. Back in Zuzu City, no one bothers with any kind of dating, no one bothers to notice someone else at all – no sweet lies, no prelude, just a dick and a cunt. So this feels new and flattering at the same time.

She sits down on her mat, reluctantly serves Shane too with some of her freshly picked strawberries. Jas moved over to Vincent and Jodi, her hands carefully holding on to the hat that’s still a bit too big for her, so it’s only the two of them in this corner. The music can’t start soon enough, because she can feel stray eyes looking to them.

The dance starts, and she watches, transfixed as the pairs walk towards each other, meeting in the middle in an embrace. Almost immediately the dresses flutter in the air, twirling. There’s an admiring exclamation from somewhere in the crowd, Jas happily clapping along to the rhythm. She looks at Sam, all but drinking up Penny’s laughing face. She looks at Abigail, tightly holding on to Sebastian’s shoulders. She looks at her friends dancing with the girls they have a crush on, and something in her chest rips apart.

“Hey,” Shane says. “Wanna get out of here?”

She nods wordlessly, and he takes her hand. No one looks at them, as they discreetly make their way behind everyone else. Once out the field, Shane breaks into a run through the woods. They stop in a clearing, both breathing hard from their run, and Shane grins at her, before straightening his back, walking purposefully her way and deciding to kiss her. It’s hard and rough, much like he’s been handling her until now too, but she still moans.

His hands are already moving at pulling his belt apart, and he takes her hands and moves them towards his dick.

“Come on, play with it,” he whispers breathlessly, as he’s pulling apart her scarf for a second time today, mouth finding the tender skin, reinforcing the fading marks. She’s feeling needy herself, she’d like him to shove down her panties and eat her out, but she makes do with moving her legs one against the other, seeking some kind of friction, as her hands are moving from his tip towards his balls, slower at the beginning, and faster once he starts grunting in her ear, pumping into her hands.

Then, he grabs at her hair, and she has to bite her tongue to stop from yelping.

“On your knees,” he says, already pushing his weight on her shoulders, and more or less willingly, she gets to the ground. The uneven dirt hurts her skin, and yet she has to ignore it, because Shane is already guiding his dick with his hands towards her lips. She forces herself to open her mouth, hopes he’ll better get down to do the same thing for her.

Her mouth is warm, and she’s fucking good at what she’s doing, sucking hard and taking him all in, like a good bitch, even if tears are forming at the corner of her eyes and her throat is burning. He pulls out, just to slam, hard, back inside her wet, welcoming hole – and in just three shoves, he comes undone, half coming in her mouth, half out just so he can have his fantasy of his cum leaking on her face.

Her dress is stained, and almost all her arousal is out of her. She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, presses a palm against the painful strain in her jaw. Shane hurries to put his now flailing dick back inside his pants, and he’s not helping her back up.

“Gotta go,” he says, and he’s patting down his pants, where she held onto and left some creasing.

“What?” she asks, suddenly annoyed. “What about me?”

“Solve it yourself, princess.”

He starts walking away. She screams after him.

“Oh, fuck you!”

“My pleasure, next time!” he shouts back, but he doesn’t stop, as he’s making his way back towards the festival.

She shoves the middle finger up in the air, stomping her feet at the same time, shrieking.

“You fucking asshole!”

He chuckles at her tantrum, but he’s spent and satisfied, while she’s there frustrated and fucked over, so he’s not bothering to take her too seriously.

There’s no way she can go back there without everyone else figuring out exactly what she’s been up to. Of course, Shane looks no different than his usual, maybe he’s even surrounded by some post-orgasm glow, but there’s some bleeding from one of her knees, his now dry cum on the front of her dress, and her hair is nothing but a mess. She can’t believe how fucking stupid she can be, and how she fell again in the same old game of “I give you some attention, you give me some sex” that she’s been playing for ages now. It seems like habits don’t change, no matter if she’s in Zuzu City or Pelican Town.

And for what? Just because she felt lonely and jealous, because she felt like no matter how much she’ll try, she’ll never be anything but a passing fancy to these people that know each other inside out?

She makes her way towards her farm stomping her feet, swearing at Shane and mumbling curses all the way. Once back, she draws herself a hot bath and, in the tub, finally somewhere safe, she touches herself, moans out into the air a name she doesn’t dare to even say out loud, and thinks of someone who never even looked at her in any way to indicate she might want her too.

So, she must make do with fucking Shane?

But as she succumbs to her orgasm, moving lower into the water, maybe she can just order a dildo online and leave it at that.

*** 

On the first summer days, she takes up fishing. She buys a bottle of mead, because she’s heard from mayor Lewis that’s the favourite drink of their local fishermen, and she goes down the beach to beg.

She wants to learn fishing, she says. Just a couple of lessons, whenever he can leave his store and he’s willing to – she really just wants some new hobbies. It’s dreadfully awful to have only three functional TV channels, and only a dozens of books. Even Max is just a dog, and there’s a limitation to what he is capable of. Willy is funny and wise in the way only old men who love the sea can be, but he’s patient in his explanations – and sure enough, very soon, she catches her first fish.

She takes a picture of it on her phone, proud of her achievement. She sends it to Sam, to boast a bit and to annoy him, because he’s currently stuck at his part-time job. Then she goes shell hunting, because she’s too giddy to do any actual work. The villagers recently rebuilt the small bridge on the beach, and it’s lovely to get to take a walk like this. She wants her house to have the same fresh feeling, so she visits Robin for an upgrade.

And she knows she’s paying for the work, but with Robin, she feels like she’s asking for a favour, so she must give something back. And because she feels guilty, for having thought so angrily and jealously about Sebastian and his life, she wants to say sorry in a way, even if he has no way of knowing why she’s doing it in the first place.

Robin’s outside the house, just having come back from an exercise class at Caroline’s. She greets her visitor just a bit more strained than usual, and well – there’s no doubt that if there’s a gossip mill in the town, that’s probably the weekly gathering of middle-aged wives.

The farmer sighs, agrees to wait in the house while Robin takes a shower, before they can discuss about work.

“Is Sebastian home?” she asks, and the older woman makes a dismissive sign with her hand, which means she can go and check for herself.

The door to his room is slightly open, and he actually asks her to come in when she knocks. She greets him from the doorway, suddenly shy when he speaks, suddenly guilty that she’s interrupting him. She sits down on the couch, starts by watching him work, and then eventually she gets distracted by the posters on his walls, and the huge book collection he is showcasing on his shelves. It’s work that she’s familiar with, the stuff she liked to read before, when she used to have time for her hobbies, about worlds that she could escape to only by reading about them in books, featuring magic and dragons and robots.

He doesn’t seem to mind her looking around, as long as she’s quiet. Then, he eventually finishes, and sighs, stretching out his arms.

“Sorry about that, had to finish what I was working on.”

“Ah,” she nods. “And what is that?”

“I do freelance programming,” he answers. “I just want to save up enough to move from here. You know, if I’d gone to college, I’d probably be making six figures right now… but I just don’t want to be part of that corporate rat race, you know?”

“As a rat,” she says, a smile already on her face, “I totally agree with you.”

He looks at her; this is the first hint he gets – of something more about her. He’s heard from Sam, of course, about her actual job in the city, but it’s different to know it from her, to know he has her trust, to hear the defeat behind her voice, even as she tries to hide it with humour.

Then the moment is broken, the ping from his IM breaking the companionable silence between them. Normally, he’d have to explain to people why he is not in the mood to meet up with others, his introversion something out of a freak show with the villagers, but she just nods at him in understanding.

But the next interruption is almost brutal, Robin returning to pass on Abigail’s message, so filled with dismissal at his work, and indifference at his preferences. The easy air about him, as he was talking about a work he clearly loves and his dreams, is now entirely stifled – and instead he, defeated, just accepts all of this, even if he complains. She’d like to press her finger to the frown on his forehead.

This situation makes her blood boil, though: because she’s been in his exact spot. She’s had people look down at her choices for as long as she’s decided to walk her path, out there in the city – and now that she knows what it’s like not to, she can’t take to be the witness to it happening in front of her. Of course, some people will always have something to say, but it should be different with those considered friends – considered family, no?

From the kitchen upstairs, Robin is calling out her name – now, suddenly, she doesn’t really want to go, especially when she knows her presence is soon to be replaced by someone else’s. So, she acts daringly. She touches his arm, as she raises to go:

“You know, I think you’re doing an amazing job, especially considering your conditions. And trust me, it really is better than being a clog in the corporate system, and your work is important, even if it’s important for you only.”

As soon as she came, she’s gone and he loses his chance of asking for more. She left behind another sloppily packed present on his desk, a piece of quartz inside. He gets up, moves to put it up on his shelves – and shit, he wonders if she noticed the other stuff she’s given him, up there.

 ***

So Robin starts coming around with her carpenter tools, sometimes so early in the morning that she’s welcoming her still in her Disney pyjamas. They drink instant coffee, warm this time – and they discuss recipes that she’d like to try in her new kitchen, or the kind of animals she’ll grow in the barn. She learns that Robin loves goat cheese, and she shares that she absolutely hates peppers. She asks about Sebastian and Maru’s childhoods, she tells of her grandpa’s favourite magic trick.

The sound of Robin’s hammer accompanies her through her motions, as she’s ploughing the land for the summer crops. She didn’t really understand how lonely she has been all these months, just going through what she has to do. It’s nice to have someone to talk to, even if just for a few stolen minutes.

Sebastian drops by during his breaks sometimes, to bring his mother’s lunch, and both women nag at him so much that he ends up eating with them, Max nestled at his feet under the table.

Once, she walks back with him towards the town; she needs to drop by Pierre’s, to order some kitchen utensils – and by Lewis’ house, to leave him a note with info on her next batch of syrup and honey, that she sells for some good prices. He strains himself to walk in a pace that matches hers, even if he just wants to hurry home and take a nap.

She noticed, how tired he looks lately: hair more dishevelled, the slight stubble on his chin, the dark under his eyes. She knows, from Robin, that he spent even more time than usual in his room, refusing to meet even Abigail or Sam. She’d like to press her palm on his forehead, check for any signs of sickness.

“Are you working a lot these days?” she asks, fumbling with the edge of her t-shirt, feeling shy and worried that she might be overstepping.

“Had a tight deadline, but it’s over now.”

He pushes the hair out of his eyes with his hand, pats the pockets of his jeans with the other. He takes out his cigarettes, and then swears.

“Shit, do you have a lighter?”

In fact, she does. Sometimes, when she goes to the mines, her flashlight flickers and dies out, so she started the habit of carrying candles on her expeditions, and always a lighter in her pocket. She offers the fire; she has to stand on her tiptoes and he has to bend down to make it work.

Sebastian looks at her; she’s determinedly staring at the ground. They’re so close that even in the summer heat, she can feel his breathe on her cheek. Once the cigarette is lit, she almost scrambles away, pressing her palms to her cheeks, complaining about the hot weather.

She starts walking faster, afraid of what she might do if Sebastian looks into her face. There’s a small smile on his face that she can’t notice.

 ***

Pierre’s store is more of a general hangout spot for his daughter, though – Maru is eating her lunch with Abigail in a corner, and she waves at the two of them as she turns towards the counter. Of course, Pierre convinces her to buy several types of flower seeds – and she walks around the town with those in her arms. She thinks she might actually be his best customer. Or easiest, which in his case, it is one and the same thing.

That’s how she meets Evelyn: in the town square, taking care of the flowers. In truth, she never stopped to think about who maintains the town, and now she seems to have her answer. There are many people around; Penny with the kids, playing in the water fountain. Mayor Lewis and Harvey discussing in front of the clinic, Gus sticking a request on the board.

But the old lady spots her shopping, and sits her down on a bench, where she lectures her on the proper way to take care of them.

Then, the tone shifts – and the older woman asks her about the animals she’s growing (they’re well), how she finds Pelican Town (nice) and what’s her favourite flower (hyacinth).

“You know,” she laughs. “I almost married your grandpa.”

She sputters, unsure how to take this wild what-if she’s presented with. Of course, if Evelyn would have ended as his wife, she wouldn’t be here at all. And still, her curiosity gets the best of her.

“What happened?”

“Oh, George – that’s my husband, dear – bought an old farm here in town and moved one day. The next thing you know, everyone was smitten with the new farmer, me included. And by then, your grandpa was already in the army.”

And when he returned from the army, he returned with a wife – that’s a story that she knows. Grandpa met her grandmother at one of the dance evenings organized for young soldiers, and if the story she was told as a child is to be believed, he danced with no one else that night, the next and all the other ones that followed.

“How was he like?”

Sometimes, when it comes to someone you love, it’s hard to consider them from another point of view than the one you were always familiar with. He has always been just her grandfather to her, yet Evelyn here has seen him growing, becoming all those things to all those many people: son, neighbour, husband, father.

“He always worked hard, stirred trouble wherever he went and loved this town like no other,” she says, a faint smile on her face, lost in memories.

That sounds like the old man alright.

“Th-thank you, Evelyn.” Her voice sounds a little chocked. Just a little.

“Psssh, please. Call me Granny.”

The old man takes her hand, squeezes her fingers in hers – and pats her butt when she gets up to go home.

 ***

“Hey, mom,” she says, pressing the phone closer to her ear. It’s the first phone call she’s making from the landline, and there are jitters all over her skin. She hates that she has to stay still, glued to one spot the length of the phone’s cable. Her brain goes in override.

“Darling!” her mother exclaims from the other side. There’s some shifting, the sound of a door closing, then a sigh. “How are you? How’s Pelican Town?”

She tries not to sniffle outright, tries not to cry that she wants her mother when she’s a fucking grown-up adult, but that really is how she feels. It was all okay, the construction almost to an end, her crops growing beautifully – and then Max gnawed at her only good pair of shoes, and the thing sent her into a spiral of self-pity. She really has no idea what on earth she is doing here.

Instead, she asks: “Did you like living here?”

She is grandpa’s only living child. After her older brother’s death, she simply packed her stuff and moved to a shitty dorm in city, got married in two months and had her almost immediately after. Nowadays, her father is drowning in alcohol and her mother is drowning in work – and she wonders if the first coping mechanism may be more useful than the latter, though her last experience seems to point to a no.

“No,” her mother says. “But depends on what you’re chasing, or what you’re running away from. So, do you like living there?”

She tugs at the phone cord, shifts on spot, looks at Max sleeping a few feet away.

“M-maybe? I don’t know.”

“That’s not a no,” her mother says, ending the call immediately afterwards.

She sits on the same spot, with the tone dead in the background for a very long time, just staring out the window at the setting sun.

 ***

With the new barn built, she visits Marnie about filling it with the appropriate animals. She’d like a sheep, just because she thinks knitting would be a useful hobby to pick up by winter. Maybe a goat, so she can make cheese and thank Robin properly for all the overtime work she put in finishing her house so early.

Jas is out with Vincent, but before discussing the price of the animal, Marnie hands her the straw hat and her picnic mat. She burns as she takes those from her, not knowing what to say. It’s been two weeks since she ran from the town’s celebration, and even now, she burns with the shame of that day. She starts looking around.

“He’s not-”

“At work, dear,” she says, and finally she starts calculating and writing down something at her desk.

“So you know.”

“Everyone knows,” she says and sounds forcefully cheerful, although she must understand what weight her words have, because the farmer is slouching in a chair, head hanging in her hands.

“There’s nothing going on,” she wails, looking up at Marnie, begging her to believe her – even if she’s just a stranger, asking for a bias against her own blood relative.

“Nothing going on anymore?” Marnie corrects, moves to pat her on the shoulder, signalling at the same time for the young woman to follow her. She nods her head, defeated, and Marnie has to wonder what exactly did this hard-working farmer see in her drunk nephew. She feels relieved to know that she put an end to it. Maybe exactly because she got involved with her good for nothing boy that she feels a bit more forgiving towards her.

She talks her in getting another chicken too, as an apology for having fucked around with her nephew. She doesn’t have the heart to correct this motherly woman that it was, in fact, the other way around. But either way, she’s forgotten.

She knows that because the next day, Penny calls her and asks her to spend the day together with the kids on the beach. She shouldn’t be that surprised to see Sam there too.

 ***

She asks everyone she gets along with over, after the house expansion is finished. She spent most morning just preparing various recipes, to fit everyone’s taste. Penny arrives first, dropping an apple pie on her kitchen counter and moving around the house to admire Robin’s work. She’s been thinking of doing something about her trailer-living situation for a while.

Abigail and Maru arrive together, with a plate of Robin’s spaghetti. Her and Demetrius decided it’s better to skip the evening, seeing how everyone else there is the same age as their children. She learns that Abigail is supposed to start her second year of university in autumn, and that Maru is going to do her master’s in astrophysics.

She whistles appreciatively, makes fun of her literature degree on the way. The two then huddle together in a corner of the porch, feeding Max stray bits of food and cooing at him when his tail starts wagging.

Sam and Sebastian arrive the last, each carrying a board game in their hands. It’s smart thinking on their side, because she’s not sure what she would have entertained her guests with otherwise. They huddle around the table, filling up plates with at least five different food recipes, passing iced tea and lemonade around. Abigail has this perfect skill of being able to imitate Lewis’ announcement voice perfectly, which in turn makes Sam snort his drink out of his noise. It makes everyone else lose it, and afterwards there’s no awkwardness hanging between them.

Penny helps Sam clean up in the kitchen, and they’re gone for way longer than necessary, though everyone else at the table is polite enough not to comment on it. Abigail and Maru, sitting one across the other, keep looking at each other while the other is not looking, and Abigail might be eating so much chocolate cake that she risks getting sick.

Sebastian sits next to her, smiling softly at a story that Penny is telling, from their time together in high-school. She should, technically, feel left out of the loop, but each time she mentions someone unknown, or a habit they used to have as a teenage group, Sebastian leans over closer to her, and whispers explanations into her ear. His voice, low and smooth, makes her feel like she’s melting down her chair.

Sam and Sebastian go out for a smoke, and she’s following them too, asking for a cigarette from Sebastian, letting her lighter pass around in a circle. The sun has already set, and there’s only the soft buzzing sound of her lamp in the air. The boys are talking about their rehearsal schedule, ask her over sometime, which she happily agrees to.

“Hey,” Sam says, kicking at her leg with his shoe. “Are you single?”

“What the fuck?!”

Sam raises his hands in the air, talking with his cigarette between his teeth. “Don’t shoot the messenger!”

She was ready to punch his elbow, but is now lowering her arm, frowning at him. Behind Sam, Sebastian continue smoking, refusing to get himself involved in this mess.

“Whose messenger?” she asks, though there’s a teasing edge in her voice, clearly proving that she doesn’t believe anything else but his own curiosity brought him to this rudeness.

“Look man – uhm, woman I guess, we’re all friends here, no judgement zone.”

“You just laughed at Maru for liking math two minutes ago!” she points out, this time her kicking his leg.

“You can just not answer the question,” Sam says, pacifying, turning towards Sebastian to offer him his lighter, as he’s already on his second cigarette.

“No, it’s fine.” She feels embarrassed for causing a scene, when it’s not even such a big deal. “I am single.”

She starts walking a bit away, making it seem like she’s inspecting the shrub just next to the stairs.

“So no Shane?” this time it’s Sebastian asking, which is surprising because she did not expect him to care.

“No Shane,” she confirms, her voice a bit weaker than she intended it to be.

Sam punches the air in a victorious movement, grinning at her.

“Thank God, that guy’s a fucking asshole.”

He shivers a bit in the cold night air, wearing only a t-shirt, and with a goodbye thrown over his shoulder, he goes back inside. Sebastian moves his hand in the air a bit, gesturing to his unfinished smoke, but she’s still not making a move to go back.

“But him and Penny… totally a thing, right?”

“Totally,” Sebastian says, and they both burst out laughing.

***

When Abigail phoned to tell her about Luau, she actually mostly whined that summer festivals are the most boring ones, because everyone is so busy tending to crops and making the most out of the long days. The farmer herself was actually taking a break, at the height of the summer heat, with a glass of iced water, but counting down the minutes before she’d be back in the garden, pulling out the weeds and gathering ripened fruits.

She still gets invited to Luau with everyone else; somewhat of a temporary, potentially forever fixture to their group. There’s a gaping hole opening in her stomach when she thinks of this, anxiety bubbling all inside her body making her feel sick. She feels like something terrible surely must happen soon, considering how much joy she gets from all these people.

She has sent some stuff to mayor Lewis, to add to the potluck soup: fresh tomato, some mushrooms, basil. But still, the thing looks completely inedible.

“Are we trying to kill the governor?” she asks, as she’s carefully looking at the bowl in her hands.

Sebastian laughs, turning his upside down in the sand. She’d really like to do the same thing.

“It’s tradition!” Maru explains, frowning at her brother.

“Are we choosing governors based on the quality of their stomach?” she tries again, this time sniffing at the stuff. Its consistency looks absolutely… gluey.

Sam joins the laughter this time, and Sebastian pats Maru’s shoulder in some attempt at an excuse. Abigail is the only one who actually eats the stuff, though her face turns somewhat pale as soon as she is done. The governor looks like he is perfectly fine, and even praises their soup, which makes everyone visibly relax.

 ***

Maru’s birthday was a solitary thing; just another ordinary working day, celebrated only with chocolate cake in the evening with the entire family. Robin builds her another bookshelf, Demetrius and Sebastian get the money for a new telescope. No other guests are invited, though random gifts still find their way to her mailbox: a stray astrology book, a new case for her glasses.

Sam’s not that different, though they all heard the rumours that immediately after his shift, he visited the museum, and spent a very, very long time there. They meet on Friday night at the Saloon though, so that the band can play and the others can cheer. They’re spectacular, as usual, and when doing something they love, all three of them look younger than she has ever seen them.

Penny is at her side, an arm looped around her waist, and they’re both swaying their bodies on the rhythm of the music. Sam winks in their direction, though the redhead pretends she doesn’t see it.

 ***

On one of their river discussions, Sebastian mentions frogs to her once; something she’s been terrified of for as long as she remembers. But there’s just such a soft smile on his face, and his voice is so calm: and as such, she thinks to give it a try. Which is exactly why he finds her one day, as he goes to visit Sam, by the river bank, on all fours, staring into the water.

She yelps when he hears him calling out to her, fluttering her arms in the air in a panic. It’s that movement that makes her stumble forward in the water. She doesn’t know how to swim, but the water is low enough to not be a problem, but as she gets up, sitting on her ass in the middle of the river, she scowls at him.

“I hate you,” she says.

He smiles, and with the sun at his back, it’s the most beautiful sight she’s seen. He offers her a hand, which she accepts gratefully, trying to remain as dignified as possible, considering that her clothes are now stuck to her body and there might be some mud on her butt.

“What were you doing?” he asks, and she immediately reddens under his attention.

She mumbles her answer; she’s a terrible liar, so she doesn’t even try. This time, Sebastian actually laughs at her, and she crosses her hands at her chest, both indignant and cold.

“I hate you,” she says again, this time accentuating each of her words. But there’s no fire behind it, so he ignores her remarks. Instead, he unzips his hoodie and, slowly, places it on her shoulders.

“But-” she starts, already moving to remove it, give it back, refuse the help, her natural instinct kicking in. He hasn’t stepped back, and having him so close, she notices the subtle smell of his aftershave, the dark marks under his eyes. She wants to get on her tiptoe and let her fingers run through his hair, so soft from up this close. Then he speaks, the magic breaking, and she moves her eyes down to her shoes, shy all of the sudden.

“Sam’s living real close, so it’s really no problem.”

He’s trying very hard not to move his eyes away from hers, face burning red with embarrassment – and only then does she realize she’s wearing a white shirt, and she’s wet –

“Oh,” she says, lamely, moving her arms through the sleeves and zipping it up. “I… I’ll wash it and bring it back to you.”

“Yeah, don’t worry about it,” he says, before awkwardly saying his goodbyes. Sam will chew him out for being late, and Abigail will frown at him for not letting them know about this ahead of time.

But their new farmer will stand by the river bank for a long time still, looking down at the water, even when Vincent passes her by and laughs at the wet pool that dripped at her feet.

***

She likes taking the mountain path, especially during hot summer days: less people to stop and chat with under the sun, more shade from the trees, chances to see a wild bunny or a squirrel, maybe picking up some wild fruit. She learnt to enjoy these things, that felt like such a chore back in the day, when she was simply a child helping out her relatives. Maybe because, from start to finish, in everything she does for her farm, she leaves a part of herself in there.

She’s as familiar with Robin’s garden as she is with her own, and that’s why it takes her brain a bit to catch up with what she is seeing.

She didn’t even expect to see Sebastian at all, and especially not like… this. Sprawled under his motorcycle, the picture perfect of her dream boy from high-school. It’s then when it dawns on her that she might have some other reasons too, for visiting Robin today, for picking the mountain path, for going to the mines so often, even if she’ll never admit it to anyone else.

For a second, she hates him so much for having been so kind to her, for having taken care of her, for his beautiful smiles and his unending understanding. For having made her like him so much, when this recluse and silent man seems to dislike everything that she is starting to like lately.

She crushes the feeling coming up in her chest; the despair and the need to go and run as far away from him, before they make eye contact, before her beating heart goes into override.

Sebastian heard her approaching footstep though, and as he’s coming up, t-shirt clinging to his chest, she closes her eyes. God help her not to jump this man right here and now.

“Hey you,” he says, the corner of his lips lifting up a bit seeing her.

She waves, taking a deep breath as she approaches him, taking a seat on the outside bench. He picks up the tool that he needed, and goes back to work. She stays put right where she is, watching him.

“You know, it’s fascinating to watch someone do something I know nothing about,” she laughs, thinking of her useless literature degree as well, her dirt stained nails and her dead-end job back in the city, so opposed to his programming skills and the coppery smell of his motorcycle.

“That’s how I feel when you talk about farm upgrades with mom,” he says, and then asking her for another tool – it’s the round one with a yellow handle.

She shifts closer; he gets out from under the metal labyrinth of his bike enough to nod at her in thanks when she hands it to him. But he understands her feeling better than he manages to put it into words, especially since he’s been an outcast in the village for so long; heck he’s not sure anyone else but her even accepts what he’s working, let alone understand it.

But if there’s someone who can get it, it’s certainly the city girl who gave up everything to become a farmer. Much as he wants to drop everything here just for a shot at the big city. It’s the same strangling hope in his voice, that she’s detected the first time they met, when he talks about his short escapades.

He gets up, wiping his hands on a dirty old rag. There’s a dark stain on his cheek that makes him so incredibly cute, and yet the contrast couldn’t be more obvious with his muscles.

“You could come with me next time,” he says, and he purposefully looks at her, digging out her reactions.

She blushes, all red, prettily and opens her mouth to say something, closes it again. Then, with a bit too much eagerness, that makes her seem just a bit too desperate to do the right thing, she says:

“I’d love to.”

“Great,” he says, and this time it’s a full smile that he graces her with.

They move to enter the house now, the sun setting at their back, and he holds the door open for her. She has to squeeze by him, so close that she can feel the smell of oil mingled with his sweat, and the always present soft aroma of soap.

Robin is in the kitchen, preparing hot chocolate for everyone; Abigail is over too, in Maru’s room, the two’s laughter loud enough to be heard from downstairs. Demetrius is in his office, researching something in one of his biology tomes.

She immediately moves to help Robin; now familiar with the layout of her kitchen, with everyone’s favourite mug. His mother yells at Sebastian to go and take a shower before even daring to enter her kitchen, which is exactly the reason why he moves closer to her instead, loudly kissing her cheek.

Robin shrieks, hitting him with the spoon she’s holding in her hand. Their guest watches the scene with a soft smile; she likes it when there’s no bitterness between the two, which is something that comes way easier when no one else in their family is around.

She presents Robin with her first goat cheese; it’s experimental yet, really I have no idea if it’s any good, but she gathers her in her arms anyway, thanking her from the bottom of her heart. She carefully places it in her fridge.

And while Robin goes to Demetrius’ office, forcing a break out of this man as they plan to drink their hot chocolate together, she’s tasked to bringing up the girls’. She knocks, but it still doesn’t feel like sufficient incessant to stop whatever they were doing, because when she opens the door, Maru’s in Abigail arms, having a somewhat lost look on her face. Abigail’s lipstick is all over Maru’s neck, and smeared around her lips, and both their mouths are pulsing red with the pressure of shared kisses.

She blushes under their eyes, hates to have interrupted what she just did. It’s worse than if they were having sex, because the tension in the air is so thick she can choke on it.

“R-Robin said-” she tries, but she’s so embarrassed that she just leaves the tray on the desk, and all but bolts down the stairs.

Shit, she thinks.

“Shit,” she exclaims out loud as well. She’s so wind up she doesn’t hear the footsteps following her, and she almost screams when Abigail’s hand comes down her shoulder.

“Hey, look, let’s be chill about it and keep it a secret, yeah?”

“Of course,” she nods her head. “And I’m really sorry…”

“Our fault for being daring enough not to lock the door. But in our defence, we didn’t think that would happen,” Abigail says, winking at the other woman, before moving upstairs, probably to calm down her lover.

The theme of her life is that she is a big, stupid, idiotic fool. She’s been jealous for months on a relationship that didn’t even exist, and now she feels guilty and embarrassed all over again for what she did when overcome by those emotions. She stands in the middle of the hallway, hating herself so much that she would burst into flames if she had magical powers.

Sebastian finds her eventually, grounds her back to reality with a soft touch against her elbow and a soft call of her name. She startles like she’s been shot, almost jumping out of her skin, before things start refocusing around her. Sebastian, after his shower, smells like pine and mint, and he’s wearing shorts.

“Come on,” he says, slowly guiding her back to the kitchen, where their drink probably went cold already. At the back of his leg, Sebastian has a tattoo: a man lying face down, ten swords hanging above his body.

“That’s cool,” she nods her head at the design, sipping from her hot chocolate.

“Thanks. Sweet sixteen present, teenage rebellion and everything.”

“I ran away from home when I was sixteen,” she says, and Sebastian rises his eyebrows, clearly sceptical.

“For real!” she laughs. “I came here, to gramps.”

“Can’t remember you ever being up here,” he says, but now he’s curious.

“Well, of course, he called my mom the second I entered the house, and next morning she came to pick me up, but still.”

Sebastian snorts at her story, and she’s beaming at him with the largest smile possible, having gotten such a reaction out of him. It seems like it’s so easy for her to rile him up, or to get him involved enough in what she’s doing that he can’t filter his reactions anymore.

He walks her home that evening; she insisted he didn’t need to go through the trouble, since she’s out even later all the time, but Robin pushed, especially since Abigail was to sleep over, so she didn’t need Sebastian to walk her home.

In the end, she had company on the way home.

“Sorry for the trouble,” she says. Sebastian is smoking again, and only shakes his head. They continue their conversation from earlier, about how they used to be as kids and teenagers, periods in time that feels very far-away. Then she tells him of her past job, how she used to want to kill herself every time she entered the building, how there was no more city around her, and just the clutch of overwork and need for money.

She breathes easier here, she says. She hasn’t seen the stars in years, she adds.

She’s looking up at the sky, but Sebastian is looking at her.

She’s seemed lost on that first day, overwhelmed as she looked around at her inherited plot of land, and he’s given her two weeks maximum to survive in there. And here she is, rounding on six months, looking like she’s always belonged.

She hands him his sweater, thanks him again, in that sweet voice that matches her face, but not her personality when she’s swearing. He wishes the road between their houses was longer, longer than to Zuzu City, so long that they could have the entire night at their disposal.

 ***

“You’re late,” she says, from where she sits on the pier, her feet just a few centimetres above the water surface.

She’s barefoot, and she’s wearing a thin and short dress, and showing so much skin that Sebastian is a bit distracted at first. Technically, they haven’t set a meeting time, but he is indeed the last of the villagers to arrive on the beach for the dance of the moonlight jellies. By now, the others are also grouped together, leaving her alone.

She pats the space next to her. He sits down, yawning.

“Sorry, I was up until 3am reading a new book.”

She lights up then, shoots question after question at him: about his favourite authors and books, hints at the volumes he knows she’s seen on his shelf. They decide to buddy read a book together, and the next day he finds her favourite novel in his mailbox, he sends his instead. His are in pristine condition, while hers are underlined all over, notes scrambled over the margins that he spends a lot of time trying to decipher, corners dog-eared. The first few are a hit and miss, then slowly, as they go through the volumes, writing long texts and handwritten note with their thoughts on it or calling each other late into the night, they start to figure each other’s state, collections growing on each side.

On Penny’s birthday, no one can find the young woman almost the entire day. For that matter, they had the same problem with Sam too.

On Abigail’s birthday, she knocks on the farmer’s door in the middle of the night. The other woman is sleepy, bleary eyed, and she knows that something serious is going on because Abigail doesn’t even make fun of her pyjamas. She opens the door, wordlessly. Makes some tea, as Abigail plops on the rug on the floor, nuzzling Max.

She passes her a steaming cup of tea, sits in front of her in much the same manner.

“What happened?”

It takes Abigail a long time to reply, and when she does, she stumbles over words.

“I-I came out to my parents. Let’s say they didn’t take it too well. Sebastian lives with M-Maru so it didn’t feel like the smartest move, and Sam’s mother already has enough things to worry about. I had no-nowhere else to go.”

She shouldn’t be this surprised when the farmer leans closer, wrapping her arms around her, squeezing her close. Abigail reaches up her hands, tugs at the pyjama top and starts sobbing. There’s a large wet mark on the other woman’s shoulder when she is done, though she doesn’t seem to notice it as she’s running around her house, pulling out a rolled up mattress and building a make-shift bed in the middle of the room. She’s gentle as she moves Abigail to her bedroom, helps her in bed, petting at her hair, and chanting it’ll be okay over and over again.

Abigail’s already asleep when she moves to the kitchen, scrolling through her contacts list. It takes a few seconds before the person at the other end picks up, and Sebastian’s voice sounds muffled. She imagines him for a second, face half-hidden in his pillow, dishevelled hair. Then:

“It’s Abbie.”

The next day, Sam and Sebastian show up on her doorstep at 6am with chocolate cake, and they barely even greet her before moving inside, slamming open the door to the room where Abigail’s sleeping, essentially waking her up. But they also jump on the bed, squeezing themselves in the small space, peppering her face with kisses, even as she screams at them to stop, that they’re gross. But she’s laughing.

Over breakfast (eggs and salad and chocolate cake), they discuss what they should do next. There’s enough space here for two people, and it makes most sense to have Abigail live here for a while, until things calm down a bit.

“Did,” Abigail starts, unsure, playing with a tissue, “Maru tell your parents?”

“Yeah,” Sebastian says, and he feels like he really needs a smoke.

“I guess it went well.”

Abigail ends with a laugh that resounds dry and bitter in the room. Sam’s leaning towards her, holding her hand.

“Your parents will come around,” he says. “They just need to get over the initial shock.”

Except Abigail, everyone else nods. It’s hard to imagine Pierre staying mad at anyone, let alone his own daughter. But Pelican Town is a small enough place that such a thing might take a long time to forgive in the eyes of others. After the guys leave that first day, Abigail spends the entire day in bed. The next one, she joins her host for coffee, asks about the pumpkin patches.

When the Stardew Valley Fair rolls around, she helps the farmer fill Robin’s truck with her products. The older woman hugs Abigail that day like she’s a long-lost daughter, which makes her cry all over again.

 ***

The Fair itself is nice; the trees around had already started to turn orange, and it gives the place a really cosy atmosphere. Almost everyone in town buys something from her stall, and Marnie even comments that she fits right in. She enters Lewis’ competition with her pumpkins, but she loses to Shane’s chickens, which is a totally deserved win on his side, though she hates to admit.

Abigail makes up with her family that day, because the second she steps in town, her mother drops a crane of jars, swears, and runs up to her baby girl to hug the life out of her, cry and apologize. Pierre is sniffling at his stall, next to her – and she passes him her handkerchief.

Then, because Abigail is Abigail, she kisses Maru in front of everyone. George whistles, loudly and everyone laughs, which ends any discussion on the topic. With this scene, the farmer thinks she has just fallen a bit in love with the man herself.

Shane approaches her, to boast his win.

“Congrats,” she says, though she is pointedly not looking at the bow pinned to his chest. Jas has already been over, stopping everyone and showing it off.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” he says, and she’s glad the stall stands between them, because she knows he would have liked to be much closer than this.

“Glad you took the hint.”

“Is the freak gang that entertaining, little girl?”

There he goes again, with his horrible nicknames and that shit-eating grin. She hopes he’d choke on all the bullshit he’s spewing, some day.

“Yes.”

She sounds firm, serious and soft at the same time. There’s a small smile on her lips as well, and probably it’s that combination that makes Shane realize she’s entirely truthful. So, he laughs. For sure, he must find her stupid and foolish, and yet she only feels relieved as he watches him walk away, shaking his head like he’s disappointed.

As evening approaches, Sebastian stops by her stall. It’s almost empty now, most of her products sold earlier in the day. He sits next to her, smoking, looking at Sam winning the big prize at darts for Penny. She all but swoons.

Sebastian gets up, throwing his cigarette to the ground and stepping on it.

“Do you want to walk around?”

She nods, he helps her up. She asks Pierre to watch over the rest of her stuff, and when they move from stall to stall, her and Sebastian are so close that their shoulder almost touch, though none moves to put more space between them. She keeps stealing glances at him, as he explains to her about his favourite stalls, and how it used to look like back in his childhood.

They eat Gus’ famous burgers, and her heart almost stops beating when he leans closer, pressing a tissue to the corner of her mouth. He starts by looking her in the eye, but then her own eyes drop to the flutter of his eyelids, the curve of his nose, eventually settling on the plumpness of his lips – and his gaze follows suit, tracing the same path on her face. They sit in silence, staring at each other, until Gus’ boisterous laugh makes them both startle.

She mumbles her thanks, looking at her plate, too afraid to look at Sebastian.

They play darts too, though she only manages to hit the target only once, and only on its furthest ring.

“Sam rigged this game, didn’t he?” she asks, which makes him smile.

Sebastian pays for his turn, raises his eyebrows at her when she’s expectantly watching him. He throws the first dart while still looking at her, and it hits bull’s eye. She screams in delight, clapping her hands together.

He moves his hand to the back of his head, embarrassed at her reaction, even if he so desperately wanted it in the first place. He asks her if she wants any of the prizes, but she shakes her head. As cheesy as it might be, for her it’s enough that she can enjoy the fair, and that she can do it alongside him.

 ***

When she counts her savings the next day, it’s not as much as she would have liked. So she starts going to the mine again, because she can sell well everything that she finds in there, and for a couple of weeks, it works out just fine. Until it doesn’t anymore.

She knows the place is old, but the crack of the stair giving way under her weight was not an expected problem. The lurking animals and the unmapped areas, sure. But not the wooden step of the stairs.

It takes her by surprise, and she doesn’t have fast enough reflexes to find another footing, so she falls all the distance to the ground. She lands on her side, and there’s a terrible crack in the shoulder that makes getting up so, so painful afterwards. She’s bleeding heavily from one of her knees as well, and several bruises are already blooming on her legs and arms.

Her flashlight also went out on impact, so at first she is disoriented, her head booming with the sound of her fall. Then she gets scared, her heartbeat in her throat, and before she can even think more of her wounds, she forces herself to count up to 100, as slowly as she can, bringing her breathing back to normal, forcing her body to refuse the incoming panic attack just yet.

No one knows she’s in the mine right now, so technically even if they were to notice her disappearance, it will take a while until they find her. And it was already dark outside, judging from the last time she looked at her watch, which makes searching for her unsafe until at least tomorrow morning. She can’t just stay here and wait for someone to find her, even if that is all that she truly wants to do.

She winces when she finally raises to her feet. She’s unstable and everything hurts, but she’s most worried about her arm. She tried to pick up her discarded flashlight, but the movement hurt so much she left out an agonized wail.

Tears start biting at her eyes when she bumps into the stairs, after fumbling through the dark for it. She tries not to think of all the steps until the surface, and then her walk back home – and instead tries to take it one step at a time. She can support her weight only on one arm, and her legs hurt each time she raises them, the skin at her knee ripping open a bit more with each move of her leg up. She takes it one at a time, stops often to breathe deeply, give some part of her body some respite. She struggles even more when she finally gets to the broken stair, and she has to cover twice the distance.

When she eventually collapses on the ground at the entrance to the cave, she can smell the fresh night air, and she can hear the rustling of the leaves, and she starts crying. Somewhere down there, where the mine caved in, trapping workers under the stones and dirt and in unending hallways, is the body of her uncle. Of course, she could have easily shared the same fate today, if she would have been a bit higher, if she would have fallen on one of the sharp stones littering the lower floors instead.

She forces herself, again, to just breathe. But even as she makes herself stand up and walk the long way home, her mind is drifting further and further away, the pain now more dulled at the edge.

That’s why she doesn’t catches when someone calls out her name, doesn’t realize she’s not alone anymore until said person catches her arm to make her stop. Unfortunately, it is her hurt arm, and she shrieks, tears pooling at her eyes, as she’s stumbling away.

Sebastian stares at her, mouth agape, looking like he’s just seen a ghost. He moves his eyes over her body, taking in her state, though he’s unsure in some spots, if the stains on her clothes are blood or dirt.

“Shit, you need to see a doctor,” he says, moving closer again, but she flinches upon his approach.

He passes a frustrated hand through his hair. Dumbly, she wonders what he is doing out here, by the river, in the middle of the night.

“Can I touch you?” he asks. He’s still keeping his distance, though he’s looking at her in a strange way, like she’ll fall off her feet at any moment. Although she nods, this time more aware, more in tune with her surrounding, this time around he approaches more slowly, careful with his movements.

She leans onto him, sighing in relief.

“This will hurt,” he says, and before she has time to think about it, he gathers her in his arms, head at the crook of his neck, her good arm around his shoulder, as he starts carrying her. She just whimpers pathetically, at his chest, blushing furiously and trying not to overthink the gesture, or her weight, or the fact that they’re stopping in front of Harvey’s clinic at fuck knows what time.

Harvey answers on the second knock, looks at the state she’s in and simply mumbles I need my coffee, allowing them inside. Sebastian is still carrying her the flights of stairs up, before finally setting her down on a bed. He’s breathing hard by now, but he’s not complaining. In the light, she can see how wild and panicked his eyes are, how deep his frown is as he searches her body for wounds.

Now that they can see, her shoulder is at a weird angle.

“I’ll have to set it back,” Harvey says, sipping loudly from a fresh cup of coffee, sitting on a chair next to her bed. He looks up at Sebastian, checks the time on his wrist watch. “You can go if you want to.”

“I’ll stay,” he replies almost immediately, making her shiver on the bed, a movement that both men catch. “If that’s okay with you.”

She nods, pleading with Harvey to let him stay, to which he agrees. His job is not made any more difficult, since Sebastian looks perfectly healthy, the weird sleep schedule aside. She doesn’t notice when Sebastian moves, shifts so he can sit next to her on the bed, wrapping his fingers around hers.

Harvey descends like a shadow above her, snapping her bones back in place. She squeezes Sebastian’s hand in her good one, so hard that his bones crack, her fingers digging in his skin until they draw blood. But she only inhales sharply, letting out a string of soft curses, teeth grinding together in pain. When she looks at them, she feels only betrayed, because they both clearly knew what was to come, and did their best to make it as fast as possible.

Harvey hands her a glass of water and some painkillers, and only then does she realize she’s still holding onto Sebastian’s hand. She lets go slowly, smiling at him, patting his hand in silent thanks, though Sebastian cannot smile back at her.

“So what happened?” Harvey asks, moving on to cutting open the leg of her pants, cleaning up the cuts, disinfecting her wounds.

She speaks, evenly, though her panic shows through in some parts, and Sebastian rubs calming circles on her back with his palm. She leans into his touch, swaying in place, eyes fluttering closed, opening them again at a slower and slower pace.

“You should sleep here tonight, so I can monitor your condition,” Harvey says, and Sebastian rises, helping her lay down on the bed, covering her with the blanket, as she’s already fallen asleep.

The two men move downstairs in silence. The clock on the wall shows 4 a.m.

 ***

She wakes to Granny knitting on a chair next to her bed. It’s such an odd image that it takes her a while to recall all the events of the night before. Then, she startles upright.

“Easy, darling, all’s good,” Granny says, though she didn’t even look up at the younger woman.

She learns that Marnie visited her farm earlier, feeding her animals. Abigail took Max to her place, Penny came by with pie. And Sebastian is downstairs, on his 3rd coffee of the day, not having gone home since he first dropped her at the clinic.

Granny smiles to herself when the patient looks longingly at the door, her skin on fire.

 ***

Harvey keeps her for one more night, though she is feeling alright, and she insists so to everyone coming around to check on her. She thought Robin will pick her up, something that she agreed to after much pestering from the woman, but instead the one waiting for her in front of the clinic, leaning on Robin’s truck, is Sebastian.

“Mom had something come up,” he says, moving to get her backpack, filled with the stuff from the mine and some clothes that Abigail picked for her. He opens the truck’s door for her.

“I could have just walked,” she says, though her leg is still stiff.

He shuts the door on her, and until he joins her in, she has time to mull over what exactly she wants to say.

“Thank you,” she beings. “For everything and I’m sorry.”

She fidgets on the spot, as he starts the engine and begins driving.

“Why are you apologizing?” his voice is soft, the corner of his mouth tilted up just the tiniest bit.

“For all the trouble?”

It sounds more like a question,

“You know I’d gladly be troubled for you.”

She does not know that, in fact. She turns to look out the window, at the stretch of trees on the road to her farm, and she wonders when she became such a person to others.

When they arrive, she invites him in, but he politely refuses. She needs to rest. But he does walk back to the car, fiddling with the gloves compartment, coming back with something in his arms. He presents it to her, carefully wrapped, and watches attentively as she opens it, catching her reaction.

In her hands, she has the first volume of what she knows is Sebastian’s favourite comic.

Abigail will tell her, later on, that before he came to pick her up, he drove all the way to Zuzu City so he could pick a copy for her. So on an autumn rainy day, she makes herself a cup of tea, and curls in her bed, opening the book.

She takes her sweet time, searching every detail in the art, rewriting particular quotes in her journal. Then her thoughts fly without her even wanting to, to a particular someone she’d like to have next to her, to explain her favourite parts. She’d like to have him by her side more than that though, as she wakes and works, a person that makes it so much easier for her to just be.

She’s a fool – she tries to tell herself, hugging the book close to her chest. There’s nothing she can offer Sebastian that would make him stay in this village he so obviously loathes. She’s just dumb enough to have fallen for the man she cannot even bring herself to ask to love her back. But the image is now stuck on a loop in her mind: stray sun rays filtering through the curtain, and Sebastian in the door frame, with her mug of coffee in his hands, offering it to her as she wakes.

She tortures herself with thoughts like this afterwards, whenever she finds a moment of respite in her work, as she hurries to sell the last of her crops, to preserve the mushrooms, fill the sill with grains for the animals and the storage outside with wood.

 ***

The first time she gets out of her property after the accident is to attend a dinner on Robin’s birthday. In the town here, it’s not a big deal, so she feels particularly honoured to have the older woman invite her.

However, Robin sends Sebastian to pick her up. She’s on the porch, bundled up in her favourite sweater and a shawl, petting Max, when he pulls up in her courtyard on his motorcycle. He’s wearing a leather jacket, and as he moves to get her helmet, she’s only staring at the way his muscles are straining under the material.

He helps her put it on, clasping it under her chin, his fingers lingering on her skin, and they stare in each other’s eyes for a few long seconds. Then, he holds out a hand, helping her get up, and guides her arms around his waist.

She’s basically glued to his back, and she wonders if he can hear how loudly her heart is beating. He tightens his hold against her arms, signalling that she should hold on tighter, and she does, even though she closes her eyes to will the embarrassment away.

Robin welcomes her with an enthusiastic hug, and she’s delighted to see Abigail has been invited as well, and she’s now sitting next to Maru at the table, discussing something with Demetrius. She’s sent her present in the mail earlier this day, more goat cheese and a few quartz pieces, and the redhead thanks her happily.

When she passes Sebastian on the hallway, she stops for a few seconds to thank him for the ride, warmly clasping his hand in hers. Then just as quickly she lets go, joins everyone else in the kitchen.

Most of the conversation is just the parents dotting on the newly formed couple, though there is a passing comment of the pumpkin soup currently served being Sebastian’s favourite food, so she makes a note to ask the recipe from Robin the next day. There’s an anecdote about how Demetrius and Robin first met, though it makes both their children cringe at how young and lovesick they still sound recalling it. Abigail talks about her studies, Maru continues, though their degrees are vastly different.

The farmer turns to look at Sebastian.

“What about your work?”

The conversation stills, a bit awkward. No one ever asks what Sebastian is doing, since freelancing is such a grey area in their mind – though they fail to see that almost everyone in this town is the goddamn owner of their own work.

“Well,” he starts, playing with the food on his plate. “Actually I’ve got a promotion recently and a really big project coming up.”

She clasps her hands together, beaming up at him.

“That’s wonderful, isn’t it?”

Everyone at the table nods politely, Robin even congratulation her son. But he thinks of her question, and lately the answer seems to be no, because each of his successes brings him closer to leaving Pelican Town, and he’s not sure he wants to anymore.

 ***

By the end of the evening, everyone is more or less tipsy, made soft by the drink and the warmth of the house. Robin insists that she should sleep over, afraid to let her return home this late. She almost puts Sebastian and Maru in one room, but the daughter refuses so vehemently, that Sebastian instead just tells her he’ll take the couch. Their mother stares for a long time after both of her children, as each turns to their guest, and instead decides to retire for the night, together with Demetrius.

That’s how she ends up sitting on Sebastian’s bed, as he’s searching for a towel and some clothes for her.

“Maru is leaving next spring for a research program,” he explains. “That’s why-”

“She wants to make the most out of it,” she continues.

“Yeah.”

He understands the feeling; it’s why he’s more often than not out of his house these days, afraid that one day he’ll have to root himself out of this place, and he will leave many things behind to regret. And many people he will miss.

He throws the clothes in her direction, points her to the direction of the bathroom.

She’s feeling more awake after the shower, and she’s drying her hair with a towel as she enters his room again. She wears one of his hoodies, but on her it looks almost like a dress, coming down halfway to her knees, sleeves rolled several times over. The sweatpants are equally as large.

“I like your socks,” she says, wiggling her toes, an ugly, green gooey face dancing with the movement.

She’s way too freakin cute, Sebastian thinks, though he only smiles at her as he passes her to go and take a shower. When he returns, she’s snuggled in his bed, a comic book in hands, the sequel to the present he’s given her before. She doesn’t hear him come in until he plops on the couch, and then she looks up at him, cheeks immediately flushing.

“Aren’t you cold?”

He’s wearing a tank top, loose enough around the chest area that she can see his collarbones. She knows she’s staring, yet she can’t tear her eyes away from the skin of his arms, or the taut stretch of his top against his chest. When eventually, finally, she moves her gaze up to his face, he’s smirking, clearly having caught her in the act.

“I never get cold,” he replies, shrugging, though he tenses the muscles on his arm, and her gaze immediately snaps back there.

He’s outright laughing right now, which makes her turn her back to him, pulling the blanket over her entire body and mumble an embarrassed good night.

But she has a very, very hard time falling asleep.

 ***

“I don’t wanna go,” she whines at Sam, pulling at his clothes, dragging him away from the maze.

He just laughs, tugging her harder instead. His little brother scared her as soon as she arrived for Spirit’s Eve, and since then she refused to leave his side, on edge all the time.

The town is decorated in skulls and supersized spiders, and Abigail took to walking around with a witch hat on and a sword in her hands, which everyone agreed was cool but also relatively worrisome.

She swears, loudly, clinging even closer to Sam’s arm, when Sebastian joins them, carrying two glasses of punch. He chuckles, but still passes one of them to her.

“You don’t celebrate Spirit’s Eve in the city?”

“Well,” she says, taking a large gulp of her drink. “There it’s more about getting shit-faced in a club, and less about your heart going for a run when you turn the corner of the street.”

“Amen, sister,” Sam yells, grabbing her glass and downing it all in one go.

“Hey!” She punches his shoulder.

“It made you laugh though!” he says, leaving so he can get her a refill, and well, he’s not wrong, because now she feels way more at ease than before.

Sebastian shifts closer to her, for which she is grateful.

“Is it really that bad?”

“I just hate jump scares,” she whines, again. “And I’m sure the maze is filled with them.”

“You know you don’t have to do it if you don’t want to, right? We can just sit on a bench and watch the skeletons.”

“We?”

He’s pressing his palm to his neck. “Well I’ve cleared the maze every year, so.”

So they sit, together.

 ***

Back in the city, she can never tell when it will snow anyway – but here in town, the air is crisp and cold for days before. Robin shows up one early winter morning, and helps her isolate the house as much as possible, around the windows and the doors, so that no cold seeps in, so that all the warmth stays. She might need to renovate the house next year, but for now, it will have to be enough.

Robin sips at the coffee she’s been offered, and pretends not to see Sebastian’s books sprawled all around the farmer’s house, on the kitchen counter, on the bed, next to the TV. She also equally doesn’t comment on one of Sebastian’s jackets hanging on the back of the chair that the young girl is currently occupying. Robin takes another sip, and smiles in her cup.

Back in the city, when it snows, it never piles; part car fumes, part all the people walking around doing their business. But here in the town, when she wakes up one morning, all she can see around her house is a wide expanse of whiteness. Max runs past her, jumps into the snow, comes back in so wet but so happy, that she doesn’t mind having to towel him near the fire from the fireplace.

But she’s left with too much time on her hands; she watches Queen of Sauce almost obsessively, following along in her own kitchen, surprised when her food is actually good. She starts knitting, phoning Granny each time she stumbles through a row. She reads, almost obsessively. And she does go to the mines, but for shorter periods now, scared of not repeating her injury, even if the Adventurer’s Guild repaired the broken stairs.

Then Sam calls her over one day and welcomes her to the world of DnD, him and Sebastian more or less forcing everyone else to start a new campaign with them. It’s the happiest she’s seen them both, so she tries to keep up with the characters, stops to ask about plot holes. They explain things in tandem, finishing each other’s sentences, for almost an entire hour, because you see, this race can’t have this magical power. Sam pulls out his guide, passing it around so that everyone can look up the kind of character they want to create.

That first evening together, that’s all they do in fact: filling stat sheets, searching reference pictures on the internet. And they eat Jodi’s delicious snacks, gossip a bit about Marnie and mayor Lewis’ affair, that the whole town knows about but somehow only the two of them missed this detail.

They turn it into a weekly meeting, rotating their meeting place through all their houses, sometimes the Stardrop Saloon in the days when they know it’ll be more empty and calm. They fight imaginary battles, Sam’s voice guiding them through cities and enemies and friends, saving each other’s asses and forging alliances. It’s the best fun she’s had since arriving in the town, though if anyone were to tell her this a year ago, she would have laughed directly into their faces.

They break the tradition only once, when instead they decide to go ice-skating. Each winter, if the temperatures are low enough, the lake freezes, making it a perfect rink. To be fair, it’s her favourite sport – probably only sport that she’s so excited to do, that she jumps on the spot as she waits for her turn to lend a pair of skates.

She’s looking a bit ridiculous, wearing 3 different layers and one of her grandpa’s padded vests, a beanie on top of her head. Sebastian finds her just really cute. She skates around holding one of Maru’s hands, Abigail the other – because she’s the only one who doesn’t really know how to do it.

Then Sam starts a game of tag with Jas. So they start chasing each other around, yelling when they’re caught only to start again. Penny almost trips, but Sam’s catches her hand and stabilizes her, even if he’s it now. Abigail and Maru skate around holding hands, working more like one person than two separate ones, though Abigail lets go only when it’s her turn to chase someone; and she’s fast as a flash, her turn over in under a minute.

She touches the farmer’s back, and she’s left in the middle of the frozen lake, trying to think who to go after. Her intention is to go after Vincent, his voice shrill with happiness when he realizes he has to run away from her, but her skates catch in the ice.

She only has time to gasp out a swearword, preparing to fall flat on her face. But there’s an arm around her waist, though the angle is awkward and her weight too heavy, so both of them fall to the ground.

She blinks, trying to make sense of the new position. She didn’t hit the cold ice, instead Sebastian’s body cushioned her fall. She’s on top of him, hands on either side of his head, and she’s staring into his eyes. She’s so close that she can feel his chest heaving.

“You good?” he asks, a hand moving to settle around her waist.

It snaps her out of it. “Shit, I’m the one who should be asking that.”

She’s trying to get up, though she’s embarrassed and fumbling, and her first movement just positions her ass on Sebastian’s thighs and crotch area. He shudders, inhaling loudly – and she can feel him stir under her.

“Oh,” is all that she can say, eyes blown wide catching his. Though there’s something more there: curiosity, and a growing interest.

“You guys okay?!” Sam’s voice is distant to her ears, though she waves a hand in the air, to both show that they’re okay and ask for a break from their game. Sebastian says nothing, looking up at her like a man found guilty of murder, face flushed, though he hasn’t moved his hand from her waist.

She grinds her hips, pushing harder against Sebastian’s body, watching in fascination as he’s squeezing his eyes shut, a frown on his forehead.

“Stop,” he says, sounding wound up and chocked.

So she does, rolling from on top of him, pulling herself to her feet, smiling when offering him a hand up. Though he’s not smiling back, he takes her hand.

***

“Happy birthday!” she shouts, when Sebastian opens the door to his bedroom, holding up her present to him.

Behind him, music plays loudly, and she can see Sam and Abigail arguing about who gets the last slice of pizza. She’s the last to arrive, but that’s also partially because outside there’s a real blizzard. Penny comes to hug her in greeting, and she high-fives Sam. Most of the time, they just drink and joke around, chatting about random things, his oldest friends telling tales of Sebastian.

After a couple of hours, Sebastian catches her eyes, motions towards the outside. Sam has given up smoking, being more of a social smoker, just like her. But since he got together with Penny, a fact to which they finally admitted after merciless teasing from Abigail, he quit.

They stop in the hallway, putting on their coats – and she hands him the present again, though he hasn’t noticed her coming up with it.

“You might find useful what’s in here.”

So he opens it to find a matching hat and scarf, in a dark navy. They’re clearly handmade, and handmade by her he suspects – and he’s touched by the time and care she had to put in her gift. Nestled between the material, there’s also a frozen tear.

“God, I-I love this. Thank you.”

She beams at him, obviously relieved. He puts the frozen tear carefully in the pocket of his jacket. She helps him with the scarf and the beanie, her hands lingering on his shoulder for a second afterwards, admiring him.

Outside, in the courtyard corner where they’re smoking, there’s a snowman. Sebastian almost feels like kicking it when she mentions in passing that it’s cute.

“I built a snowgoon but Demetrius made me get rid of it, yet Maru’s cute little snowman still stands…”

He didn’t mean to sound this bitter. She shifts, coming in closer, taking his empty hand in hers.

“If I just disappeared, would it even matter?”

He means it like a rhetorical question, just for himself – but she’s strengthening her grip on him, forcing him to look at her. She wants him to understand that she’s entirely serious.

“It would matter to me.”

 ***

It’s drizzling, a mix of snow and rain, weather suddenly warming up. On the beach, anyway, snow never piles up, and when Sebastian turns around, he finds her standing a few feet away, staring out into the sea. She is drenched, shivering lightly with each gust of wind, and now that her concentration has been snapped by his movement, she’s staring at him instead.

He gestures her closer, and she stops by his side. Now, closer, he can see that she’s shivering more violently than he initially though, and she’s certainly not dressed properly for the weather.

“What are you doing out here?” he asks, softly, pushing some of her hair behind her ear. She closes her eyes, head leaning toward his touch, and he finds himself cupping her cheek without thinking too much about it.

“What are you doing out here?” she counters, blinking up at him.

Maybe it’s the absolutely pathetic state that both of them are into that makes him answer honestly to the question. Or maybe it’s the fact that it’s her.

“Looking out at the bleak horizon… It makes me feel like it’s worthwhile to keep pushing on.”

He shrugs, trying not to look as serious as his statement. Lately, he’s been having more reasons to believe that same thing, but old habits die hard, and there’s a particular calmness in being somewhere where no one else is. Or, he thinks, looking down at her, almost no one.

“I just like the sea,” she says, and any awkwardness that he still felt dissipates with her admission. The water is raging, stirred on by the storm, crashing violently against the pier, and they stand in silence, his hands carefully petting her hair, pulling her closer when she shivers again.

“Fuck, do you want to catch your death?”

He undresses quickly, placing his jacket over her shoulders. It doesn’t make much of a difference, but it’s more waterproof than what she’s wearing, and also carrying his warmth. He pops open the umbrella he’s carrying, and with an arm around her shoulder, pulls her to his chest.

“You know,” he starts, his palm rubbing circles on her back. “I would normally feel anxious doing this with anyone. But somehow, you’re the exception.”

Her head turns, chin resting on his chest so she can look up at him.

“I want to kiss you,” she says, and Sebastian chokes on whatever he wanted to say before. “Can I?”

She’s on her tiptoes now, her lips so close to his that their breathes are mingling, yet she’s giving him the choice of covering the remaining distance. Which he does, hungrily, almost desperate for it, both hands cupping her cheeks as their mouths clash. The umbrella falls into the water, and yet they don’t care enough to notice it.

They stop for a moment, coming up for air, and then they’re back at it, and despite the fire growing at the pit of her stomach, the kiss is languid, exploring, tongue pressing against tongue. Slight movement, a change in their position to deepen the kiss, her fingers now playing in the hair at the nape of his neck, his hands at her waist.

He kisses her like he never kissed somebody else, and went hungry for it all this time. His fingers move under her sweater, and the sudden cold touch makes her break apart. His touch turns comforting, pressing against her skin, and she sighs. Their foreheads meet.

“Fuck, I wanted to do that for so long,” he breathes and she laughs.

“We are two idiots, right?”

“Big idiots,” he nods, and she takes his hand in hers, starts pulling him in the direction of her house.

 ***

She starts the fire in the house, as he’s slowly undressing layer after layer. In the bathroom, the bathtub is filled with hot water, waiting for him. He’s down to a t-shirt and his boxers when he cups her elbow in his hand.

“Join me?” he asks, voice a bit strained, but firm.

She can only nod, dazed, not trusting that this is not just a dream, afraid that speaking will ruin the moment. He sits down on the edge of the tub, gesturing for her to come closer. She’s standing in front of him, and he’s gentle in guiding her out of her clothes, letting them drop to the floor. He strays from his purpose sometime, to press a kiss against her hip, or at the tip of her fingertips.

When she eventually ends up stark naked, his eyes are hungry, but his touch not, as he guides her inside the hot tub. She sighs in pleasure, closing her eyes. She opens them again when she hears the rustling of clothes, to watch him undress. He’s a bit slow, a bit shy, joining her inside the tub. The water almost spills over. She tries not to think of his cock, the precum leaking. She tries to ignore the uncomfortable heat growing between her legs.

She helps him shampoo his hair, he washes her back. They go off track from time to time, kissing lazingly for a long time, his hands massaging her breasts, her teeth grazing his neck. Until she moans, a loud sound. Until he gasps, her name caught between his lips.

Then, with ease, he helps her out. They share one, large towel, huddling together until they reach her bedroom, giggling like children. They’re almost to the bed when he stops, looks at her.

“We don’t have to do anything.”

He’s a liar, because his cock is pulsing with want and she can feel him against her hip. She pouts.

“But I want you.”

He kisses her pout away, pushes at her shoulder until she falls to the bed with a yelp, hands wrapping against him, taking him down with her. She’s laughing, pleased with having him on top of her, when his mouth moves downwards on her body, kissing against her collarbones, sucking at the skin, biting at the skin, until there’s a dark mark behind. He throws her a pleased grin, moving lower yet again.

Sebastian takes one of her nipples in his mouth, a hand moving up to tease the other. Her hands immediately wrap in his hair and she gasps. He pulls at the sensitive area, with his teeth and his fingers, licking it better immediately afterwards, and she writhes under him. He kisses his path downwards, though his lips kiss at her hips, he bites at her thighs, always circling around where she most wants him.

“Seb,” she whines. “Please.”

He stops his ministrations to look at her, frowning and pouting, hair dishevelled against her pillows, her body flushed all over, his marks so obvious against her skin. He feels himself growing at the sight, though he smirks at her.

“Please what?”

She blushes.

“Please eat me out?”

It sounds like a plead and a question and a prayer and a command all at once, and he’s on her in the blink of an eye, tongue lapping at her folds. Her back arches, but his hands are keeping her in place – and he maintains a constant, slow rhythm.

Until he doesn’t, one of his fingers entering her in full, with ease. Sebastian chuckles.

“You’re so wet, baby.”

Her walls squeeze at the nickname. He adds another finger; watches, transfixed, as it disappears inside with the same ease. He starts pumping them inside her, and the sound of her wet pussy taking it all in is so hot, that he groans.

Buried down in her to the knuckles, he opens his fingers apart. She moans, pushing down, searching for more, more, more. He scissors her, spreading her wide – and his head moves lower yet again, lips kissing against her clit at first.

Then, he adds a third finger. He can feel her stiffen under him, so he pulls her clit in his mouth, rolling his tongue around it, just as he starts pumping his fingers inside her. Now her hands are holding on to her sheets, and she’s mumbling some curses, halfway lost to her pleasure, moans louder and louder as he speeds up.

He raises his head just for a second, to chuckle against her heated pussy.

“Come, baby.”

So she does, and he continue pumping inside of her, letting her ride her orgasm. She still sighs when he pulls out his fingers, immediately missing the feeling of being filled up with him. He moves to pepper her face with kisses, petting at her now sweated forehead.

“You did so well, baby.”

He’s teasing her, knowing how much she likes the nickname. So instead she looks down between their bodies, his cock against his navel, leaking – and looking like the most beautiful dick she has ever seen in her life. It’s not the biggest one she’s seen, but he’s thick and she’s never wanted to taste something more than the cum that’d spill out of it.

Still staring, she moves her hands to grab it, her fingers dancing over it, starting with his leaking tip, spreading his precum all over his length, before stopping with a slight squeeze at its base. Sebastian shivers over her, eyes closed, mouth open in an unspoken prayer, because he’s not sure even god can help him now.

Holding his dick in her hands, she helps him adjust at her entrance. At first, he teases against her cunt, pressing his cock between her folds, rocking his hips back and forth as they both moan in tandem. She’s already dripping over the sheets again.

He grabs at her hand, fingers entwined.

“You ready?”

“For that dick? Born ready,” she says, chuckling, but not moving her eyes away from where he’s starting to push inside her.

“Fuuck,” he says, just as she moans, only the tip in. The stretch is painful, but so fucking delicious and she’s a blabbering mess begging for more, pulling him closer with her free arm. He slams inside her, forcing the rest of his length inside in one go, and she swears. He kisses at her eyebrows, at the tip of her nose, apologizing softly.

“Tell me when to move again,” he says, and true to his words, he seems content to just kiss her, tongue at her neck, words whispered and lost in her hair, but making her shiver nonetheless just because there’s the hot breath so close to her skin. She’s trying to adjust to his entirety of him inside her, not hurtful but not entirely comfortable just yet either, and his mouth now licking at her hypersensitive nipple seems to slowly do the trick.

“Move,” she says, and he does.

He’s slow at first, almost frustratingly so, pulling out almost entirely, before slowly filling her up again. She moans, drawn out sounds, with each movement – and she almost doesn’t notice when the speed picks up, when she starts moving her hips to meet his actions. They’re a mess of grunts and moans, gasps and swears – and he squeezes so hard at her hip when she comes again, the orgasm washing over her with an intensity that it’s almost blinding, that she’s sure he’ll leave bruises.

Sebastian looks like a man in pain, inside her as she’s coming back to herself after the orgasm. She kisses his cheek, hands rubbing against his chest muscles.

“Do you want to cum all over me?”

He almost trips with the haste that he’s pulling out of her. She’s waiting, on her back, tongue lolling out of her mouth. Sebastian rises on his knees – it’s embarrassing that he only needs two more pumps to come. Most of it falls on her tits and neck, though she’s happily licking every bit that she can reach with her tongue, swallowing it all like a good girl.

“Fuck,” Sebastian says, falling next to her on the bed. “You’re so fucking sexy.”

She beams at him, getting closer. They kiss for a while, bored and tired and messy, teeth clanking together, tongue at the corner of the mouth. There’s a string of saliva between their lips when they separate.

She gets up, goes to the toilet, returns all cleaned up, before coming back to the warmth of the bed, dragging the covers over both of them. Sure, the sheets are dirty, but that’s a problem for her future self, because right now, all she wants to do is snuggle at Sebastian’s back, an arm draped over his waist. So that’s what she does.

 ***

When they wake, they fuck on the kitchen counter, the angle hitting her just right. Truthfully, half of her butt is in the air, her legs wrapped around Sebastian’s torso, as he snaps his hips up in her, deeper and deeper each time. She’s never been so glad she doesn’t have neighbours in her entire life. Maybe because it’s been so long on her part, or because Sebastian is really just that good, she’s loud – and she loves to feel him stirring inside her, with each of her moans and praises.

“So good,” she gasps, fingers digging almost painfully in his back, and he proves his point by ramming into her, ripping a sob of pleasure out of her.

He’s wearing a condom this time around, so there is no mess to clean up, and they drink their coffee afterwards – talking about this and that, not even skimming the topic of what they’re doing, or why.

He kisses her goodbye though.

And on Winter Star, while she’s getting ready for the feast with everyone else, Sebastian comes by. He welcomes him warmly, and he sits on the side of her bed, watching her finish her make-up and doing her hair, and though he doesn’t move, she keeps catching his eyes in the mirror, looking at her every movement hungrily.

“We’re not fucking after all this effort I just put in,” she says, pointedly plucking her lips and applying a bright, red lipstick.

“I want to take you out on a date,” he says, ignoring her childish theatrics, but shaking his head with a soft smile.

“Sure.”

She tries to sound nonchalant, but her heart is beating in her chest. As much as she’d like to have him bend her over the table and take her like a bitch in heat, she’d much prefer him being her boyfriend while he does so.

“Good, let’s go then.”

“Now?” she yelps, when he grabs her hand and walks her towards the entrance.

“Now,” he says. He helps her putting on her beret, she straightens the scarf around his neck. “I’ve already called Sam and told him we won’t make it to the feast.”

“You did? What did he say?”

“To have condoms on me,” Sebastian says, face serious, which is why it makes her snort.

“And?” she’s wiggling her eyebrows at him. “Do you?”

He slaps her butt as she’s getting out instead of a reply. She turns at him, the slightest darkness in her eyes.

They go for a ride, promise not forgotten. They drive for a long time, and when they finally reach their destination, he tells her to keep her eyes closed, keeps his palms against her eyes as he guides her steps.

When he moves his hands away, she gasps. Spread ahead of her, the lights of Zuzu City against the usual darkness of the night. Sebastian moves next to her, grabs her hand in his.

“I come here when I want to get away from everything and just… think.”

He’s been doing this a lot lately, ever since she came to the valley, became his friend. Torn between his dreams of the city and the familiarity of home, he came here often thinking about what he should do.

He’s fumbling with his cigarettes, before eventually lightning one. Leaning against his motorcycle, she’s still looking out at the landscape in front of them.

“It gives such a strange, sad feeling…”

She’s almost saying it to herself. She doesn’t understand why he is showing this to her, and she can only think of how much he wants to be a part of those lights shining in the distance. She knows, if he is to walk that path, there’s nothing she will do to stop him.

Sebastian gets close to her, slings an arm around her shoulder. His gaze is still fixed to the city out in the distance, but when he speaks, it’s all just for her.

“The city used to draw me in… but now I’m finding myself happier at home in the valley.”

Her head snaps up so fast that it almost hurts. She doesn’t trust herself to say anything, afraid she’s overstepping, afraid she actually misunderstands whatever is going on, afraid to hope too much.

He turns to her, knuckles slowly caressing her cheek.

“You’re the only one I ever brought to this place. You know what I’m trying to say, don’t you?”

She shakes her head; wants to hear it. He leans down, pulling her close with his other arm, covering her sound of surprise with his mouth, kissing her. She doesn’t think she’ll ever get used to his kisses; he’s a passionate but patient kisser, drawing out the movements for as long as possible, biting and licking at her lips, smiling smugly and lazily at her when he is done.

“I want us to be together. For real.”

She jumps in his arms, the move making him stumble a bit, but they’re not falling. She looks in his eyes, the gaze as touching and passionate as it’s ever been.

“I love you, Sebastian.”

“Wha-”

But she kisses him.

 *** 

She’s obsessed with saying those three words. Now that she has the right to say it, it blooms out of her at his every gesture. She says it out loud without embarrassment or care as to whoever else can hear it. She says it as good morning and as good bye. She says it when he stays the night, and when he asks her over to play a new game together. She says it in front of Maru and mayor Lewis. She says it when he comes inside of her. She says it when he lets her borrow his sweater. She says it when he calls her in the evening after work.

It makes him dizzy with how wanted she makes him feel.

It’s the middle of the night and they’re waiting, alongside everyone else from the city, for the clock to strike exactly 12, and the fireworks to blast into the sky. She’s holding onto his arm, chatting happily with Sam about a cover song they’re planning. Her weight, next to him, is something new to get used to – but she’s always fitting herself right there with so much ease, that it seems almost natural.

The countdown begins, mayor Lewis’ voice booming across the square. At 8, she joins in. At 3, he does too. The fireworks blast with a loud noise, and she squeezes herself closer to him, her eyes to the colouring sky, her lips to his ear.

“Make a wish, babe.”

She closes her eyes, thinking of everything she wants in the upcoming year. He looks at her.

“So, what did you wish for?” he asks.

She tugs at his jacket, kisses him.

“You.”

[asexualzoro]

list of reasons i find Brook ridiculous

for brook’s birthday, ive decided to follow up my other two posts of this genre by dragging yet another idiot swordsman. i have everybrook open on my phone next to me. here we go

- first and foremost his most ridiculous crime is existing. as he’s already so ridiculous as a character, im going to talk only about things hes done

- i want to know, did Brook make a conscious effort to change his laugh to sound like his favorite song? how long did it take? what was the in between period like? what did his crew have to say about this? the rumbar pirates were big on playful teasing, did they let Brook live this down? 

- ALTERNATIVELY: was brook’s laugh already like that? is that why bink’s sake is his favorite song? is that why it was York’s favorite-- oh we only made it two bullet points before i made myself sad

- relatedly i cannot make fun of anything Brook did in his backstory it will make me too sad. hes spared for now

- i DO want to say from a writing standpoint its so fucking ridiculous to me that he mentions twice being a convoy captain in the past and it never comes up again. oda?? why even bother to include something that cool if you weren't even going to do anything with it?? you could have said hes just always been a pirate but no. oda?? oda

- there was that bit where a bunch of people thought Brook was satan and addressed him as such (i think Satan-sama in the original, and the translation i read was like... Lord Satan or Lord Demon or something). not only did Brook never correct them, but he also ran with it and later used this case of mistaken identity as a reason to threaten to eat a man’s heart 

- also both men and women were showing him their underwear in that bit. bi rights

- those satanists let Brook get kidnapped while saying they would try to summon him back. do you think they're still at it

- Brook is older than... basically every old man in the series. Garp, Whitebeard, Rayleigh... all of them. something about that is so weird to me and i cannot place why

- Brook has seen and can prove the existence of an afterlife in One Piece canon and its then never addressed again

- Brook missed so many huge events while being dead. im looking at a timeline rn and these include the obvious, like, roger’s execution and subsequent effect on in-world culture and society and whatever. but also things like the destruction of ohara (which was in his home sea), the founding of the world power known as the revolutionary army (which was about 20yrs ago), and the births of every other member of his crew. wack

- he seems to know about stuff related to the pirate king post time skip, and i wonder if thats because someone told him or he’s just playing along now. maybe he just thinks Luffy made up the term pirate king cuz it sounds cool and he wants to support his captain’s interests

- if he DID ask though, like, who did he ask? his managers? did he pull aside some fan asking for an autograph at a concert like “hey, you look like a knowledgable young lad, mind helping me out?”

- i would love to be there when someone takes the time to explain roger, the pirate king, raffle, the One Piece.... and Brook asks them “what is the One Piece?”.... and someone has to look him in the eye (...or not) and tell him “i don't know” 

- Brook has technically died of fright (his soul left his body), like... at least once? it was luffy’s fault

- Brook was an urban legend on the florian triangle and i doubt he even knows that about himself

- when they're heading to fishmen island Brook gets all scared when they encounter a possible ghost ship and Usopp slaps him

- when captured by big mom he sleeps so godamn soundly and securely that he is harder to wake up than she is and this fact nearly gets a bunch of his crew killed

- Brook is the only character i can think of who has ever broken the fourth wall. he only did it once. maybe seeing the afterlife means he now knows hes in a manga. or maybe being isolated for 50 years just made his head be not screwed on right

- speaking of, there’s a bit in WCI at the wedding where Brook is decapitated. i don't know how it goes in the anime, but in the manga like... no one is shown to have decapitated him. his head just pops off. maybe he was just having fun

- also the bit where he rips the fake face off in wci. when someone calls him gross he cries

- there’s a bit in fishmen island where Brook is trying to ask Nami if he can see her panties (disgusting bastard) and he inadvertently protects her from being dehydrated by some guy they were fighting. except the panel setup reminds me a lot of / mimics ace protecting Luffy from Akainu, and it haunts me

- speaking of bits from fishmen island that haunt me, there's a page where it’s strongly implied Brook fucked a mermaid (maybe two). i will of course include the page here

- yeah. sorry. 

- when Brook first meets the strawhats he invites himself inside because “it’s cold out!” but he later admits in punk hazard that he cant feel cold. he was just lying

- no one introduces himself to Brook except Luffy for the entirety of thriller bark

- half related, Franky cradles Brook in his arms / carries Brook around for like a full scene in thriller bark 

- there's a link two second bit in film gold where the crew is just relaxing while they're planning for how they're going to get Zoro back and they're all shown eating burgers from pirate mcdonalds or whatever. and Brook is eating a burger and hes so messy that hes got burger on his forehead, and Franky is next to him just looking at him

- Brook also wears fake skin in that movie

- Brook has a running gag where he gets upset when things refuse to eat him and i was going to make a joke about it but im wondering if maybe hes just afraid of being left behind........ made myself sad again

- he cries when a dragon won't eat him tho

- Brook admits to reading monster hentai when talking to Sanji and Kin’emon and if i have to be burdened with knowing that so do you

- when hes trying to figure out the weakness of the zombies on thriller bark he overhears one ate a salted fish and lost its shadow and immediately assumes “oh, must have been the fish!” idiot man

- where does his sword cane go when hes not using it. it just appears. where does he store it

- there's a bit where the strawhats all use a combo attack at thriller bark and the first step is firing an electrically charged Brook in a slingshot through oars/oz. he ends up in a wall and no one ever pulls him out. i don't even think the manga shows how he got down

- enemies post time skip regularly assume Brook is dead when they manage to knock the crew out and it makes me wonder how popular of a rock star Brook actually was

- Brook goes on a mini rant to no one while they're descending to fisherman island where he wonders aloud how he sees without eyes and it makes me lose it

- this isn't Brook technically but Nekomamushi is based on a song Brook’s voice actor wrote about his cat.

- Brook literally doesn't have a brain. like i know we all know that but its so fucking funny. we make jokes about other strawhats only having one braincell or whatever but Brook straight up 100% just has a seashell where his brain is supposed to be 

-  why does he have rubber glove looking hands when hes haunting the castle at wano i fucking hate them

- relatedly, there’s a bit where Brook mentions he’s been, at kinemon’s interaction, sitting in a well for like... possibly days? is he okay

- honestly i love everything about Brook’s actions as a ghost in wano bc its so fucking funny but my FAVORITE fact is that Brook is in the wikipedia article about starving skeletons

im leaving you with that. appreciate ur local skeleton today