#boot shaped heart because i love winter

[hiddenworldofmary]

winter postcards

[shellshocklove]

does anyone know where the love of god goes? | joel miller

pairing/AU: joel miller x female!reader – post breakout & no ellie AU

summary: crossing the country alone as he searches for his brother, joel stumbles on a farm. winter is closing in, and against his better judgement he's convinced to stay. as the frost covers the land like a blanket, a warmth ignites in his heart for the young woman who's home he finds himself in.

warnings: this is an 18+ fic so minors dni!!! canon-typical violence, age gap (reader is mid to late twenties), swearing, dead animals, joel being a sad man, masturbation, no use of y/n

a/n: i soft launched this ao3 last month and it flopped lol so i'm gonna keep my expectations low for this series. anyways this has been a story i've been thinking about since probably october. this is the first part of what i'm hoping will be 3 parts. happy reading i guess

main masterlist / series masterlist / ao3 / playlist

from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸 this account stands with palestine. the creator of tlou is a zionist, and the second game is largly based on israel/palestine. please, everyone who interacts, educate yourself about the genocide happening right now, and support/donate.

The leaves rustled against Joel’s boots with every step he took. The sun had turned traitor cold, and he couldn’t feel its kiss against his cheek no more. The trees shivered above him in the wind – the only sound for miles except his heavy steps.

Did he still exist, with no one around? Joel had never minded being alone; after the breakout he’d found that he sometimes preferred it. People could be… well, when you’ve seen the worst of humanity, maybe it’s best to leave it behind.

And wasn’t he the worst of humanity? The things he’d done. The people he’d killed, and killed for. The people he’d lost.

But he had to keep going. For Tess. He promised.

Every night as he stared into the flames his thoughts would drift to her – the memories flickering in the fire. They should’ve never gone through that museum – it was supposed to have been empty – they should’ve never left Boston in the first place. Now Tess is gone because of him, him and his stupid plan to find his brother.

And for what? How is he ever gonna find Tommy?

Joel didn’t even know where he was. Nebraska? South-Dakota? Maybe he’d made it to Wyoming and just didn’t know it? Abe had told him ‘Cody Tower’, but Joel hadn’t seen anything other than mother nature for weeks.

Everything had started to look the same. Trees and more trees, a mountain in the distance, a grey and heavy sky above him. He’d been walking for forever. Slowly he moved west– or at least he thought he was. On the days where the sun hung high in the sky and wasn’t shielded behind a cloudy partition, he liked to watch it as it dipped below the earth. As the days turned shorter and shorter, the display of color had started to get more vivid. Joel would watch the light blue turn red and bloody, fiery tongues of flames licking over the horizon while the sharp edges of the mountains, and the triangular shapes of the trees faded into an intense black– like the shape of the mountain and the trees had been cut out with scissors. There wasn’t much to stay alive for anymore– but Joel lived for those few moments where nature painted with fire. Humanity might’ve gone to shit, but the cyclical regularity of mother nature gave Joel a small sense of peace.

But he missed the kiss of the sun against his cheek now. He’d moved into a large forest a few days ago. Tall trees hovered over him like giants and cast shadows down at him. It was colder here than out in the open country, but at least he’d been somewhat shaded from the rain pouring from the grey cover above his head the last few days.

Thwack. Thwack. Thwack.

The sound stopped Joel in his tracks. Muscle memory worked on its own, gripping the shotgun slung over his shoulder. He listened for the sound again, to the steady rhythm echoing through the forest.

Thwack. Thwack. Thwack.

With slow calculated steps Joel walked in the direction of the sound with the shotgun held tightly to his chest, his finger hovered over the trigger. The chopping sound got louder as he closed in on a man. He couldn’t tell his age with the man’s back turned – but he was strong – Joel could tell from how hard the man’s axe hit the tree trunk.

Taking another silent step, Joel got in position, “How ���bout you slowly turn around and place that axe on the ground.”

Joel’s voice was hoarse after no use, but still cold and calculated as he spoke his order. He could see he’d startled the man, probably thinking he was alone, just like Joel had thought mere minutes ago.

The man obeyed, turning around slowly. He was older than Joel, maybe mid-seventies, maybe older if the wrinkles and creases around his eyes and nose were to be believed. His hair was white as snow matching his unkempt beard. Joel caught his eye. Strong and steady, no trace of fear one would think a man would feel while having a gun pointed at them.

Joel’s grip around the gun tightened. He wasn’t afraid to pull the trigger if that’s where this was headed. The man watched him calmly before he bent his knees, throwing the axe haphazardly on the ground.

“Kick it over here,” Joel commanded again, and the man obeyed, kicking the axe clumsily towards Joel.

Slowly Joel crept closer, gun still pointed at the man. He locked the heel of his shoe against the shaft, dragging the axe behind him and out of the way.

“Hands where I can see ‘em.”

“Are you going to kill me, son?”

The man’s question puzzled Joel. He said it so calmly, like how you’d ask someone to pass the salt.

“That depends on you.” Joel’s answer pulled at the old man’s lips, a small huff of a laugh escaping them.

“Well, you’re the one with the gun. I think it depends on you.”

Joel tightened his grip on the shotgun again – he didn’t know why –to frighten the man? He didn’t seem very frightened.

“Are you alone?” Joel asked.

“Not anymore,” the man answered.

“Don’t be a smartass,” Joel gritted through his teeth, “who you travelin’ with?”

“No one,” the man’s eyes never left Joel, “I live at a farm about a mile away.”

“Take me to it.”

The man walked with a limp Joel noticed. It was barely there, you wouldn’t see it if you didn’t pay attention, but it was there. The man acted tough enough, but his body revealed his weaknesses. It would be easy to kill him, Joel thought, if it came to that.

He followed the man through the trees with his gun pointed at his back. When they reached the end of the forest a clearing revealed itself. They followed a path through a field of, tall but wilted, brown grass until they reached an overgrown gravel road with a fence running along it. Looking out in the distance, Joel could see small spots of white and black wool. The gravel moaned under their feet as they closed in on a small farm. A two-story house sat in the middle of the barnyard where it was surrounded by a barn who’d seen better days, a silo, and a smaller farmhouse – a stable – Joel noticed as they walked closer.

The man trudged up the front stairs of the main farmhouse, a hand on the handrail keeping him steady.

“Put that gun away would you, son? I don’t want you frightening my wife.” The man broke the silence between them, speaking for the first time since they left the woods.

Joel’s grip on his shotgun didn’t loosen. How could he be sure that this man’s ���wife’ wasn’t some gang of raiders hiding behind the front door? A question he asked the man through gritted teeth when he turned around to look at Joel.

“There’s nothing of the sort around here,” the man said, “we don’t even see any infected.”

When Joel didn’t say anything, and didn’t lower the gun, the man spoke again, “Who are you?”

“Just someone passin’ through,” Joel answered, making the man chuckle.

“You’re something else, passer-througher,” the old man smiled before he turned around again and stepped inside, leaving Joel on the porch alone.

Abandoned outside he lowered his gun slightly. Inside he could hear muffled voices, a deeper one, definitely the old man, and a brighter one, a woman’s voice. He listened, trying to make out their words with no prevail. The man seemed to have spoken the truth up until now. He most definitely lived on this farm – a seemingly normal farm. This man was just someone making an honest living – even after the apocalypse.

Lowering the gun completely, Joel put the safety on before he slung it over his shoulder. Taking a hollowed step towards the front door, movement in the window to the right of him caught his eye. It was there and then it was gone – just a ruffle of blonde curtains. Then, the door opened revealing an elderly woman.

The man’s wife.

“Welcome, traveler,” she greeted, stepping aside to let Joel in.

He passed through the doorway with a “Thank you, ma’am,” never forgetting his manners even after pointing a gun at her husband.

Inside it looked like a picture taken straight out of a Homes & Gardens magazine. The house was cozy, but it was small. He’d been welcomed into what probably used to be a parlor, but now served its purpose as their living room. It was hard to get a read on the house. Not like those open-floor plan houses he’d built too many of back before the outbreak – this was old, maybe hundreds of years old. The floorboard creaked under his shoes as he walked deeper into the living room, the rest of the house locked away like a secret behind three closed doors. The man was seated in a lounge chair by the fireplace, watching Joel with an expression Joel found it hard to decipher.

“Would you like some tea?” the woman asked, “It’s peppermint from our garden.”

Joel turned his head to the woman. She must be around the same age as the old man, Joel thought. He cleared his throat before he answered with a nod, “Thank you, ma’am.”

She pointed to the sofa, urging him to sit down with a smile before she disappeared through one of the doors to what Joel thought must be the kitchen. He felt the old man watching him as he slid his backpack off his shoulders, placing it on the creaky wooden floor behind the sofa. Joel hesitated for just a second when placing the shotgun up against the back, but decided he wasn’t in any imminent danger.

Joel almost groaned as he sat down. He’d been walking for so long, slept on the hard ground for months, he’d almost forgotten what a comfortable chair was. It almost felt surreal, being invited in for tea, like the outbreak had never happened. Here, it was like the time had stood still.

“So,” the man started, “where are you heading to if you’re just ‘passin’ through’?”

Joel cleared his throat again, “I’m lookin’ for my brother,” he answered truthfully, “last I heard he was somewhere in Wyoming.”

“If you’re going to Wyoming, then what you’re doing all the way up here?” The man queried with a chuckle.

Annoyed, Joel grinded his teeth, “Not many signs in the fuckin’ woods are there?” He huffed.

“I guess not,” the man shrugged, “but you’ve made a heck of a detour… where did you come from? Texas? You sound it.”

“Boston.”

“Boston?” the man didn’t hide his surprise, breathing out chuckles in disbelief, “I’ll give it to you, that’s one long trip.”

Joel only huffed in agreement, turning his head from the man to the window overlooking the barnyard.

“Well,” the man broke the growing silence between the two men, “you’re more than welcome to stay for dinner and for the night– you look like you could need a hot meal and a warm bed.”

Joel’s instinct was to say no, but before he could the front door opened, revealing a young woman. You.

You stopped dead in your tracks as you laid your eyes on Joel, “Oh!”.

The door slammed behind you. Under your arm you were carrying a metal bucket filled with apples. You were beautiful, young, but still beautiful – Joel couldn’t deny it.

“This is…” The man paused.

“Joel.” He cleared his throat, introducing himself, “Joel Miller.”

“Mr. Miller is just passing through– he’s looking for his brother,” the old man explained to you.

You nodded at the information, sat the bucket down before you reached out a hand for Joel to take, introducing yourself. Your hand in his was warm and soft while his own dwarfed yours, rough and calloused. He couldn’t help but think about what his hands had done, the people they’d killed. He shouldn’t be tainting yours, painting them red. Joel quickly drew his hand back, balling it into a fist at his side.

Joel looked over at the old man, “Your daughter?” he asked with a tilt of his head in your direction.

“Oh, no,” the man answered with a playful smile, “You’re not the first person ‘passin’ through’ who’s shown up on our doorstep.”

The door to the kitchen opened to reveal the old woman with a teapot in her hand, and a stacked tower of teacups in the other.

“Let me help you Alma,” you said, taking the teacups from the old woman’s hand before placing them on the table; one in front of Joel, a second in front of the old man, “Here you go Arthur,” and a third next to Joel.

“Did you also want some tea, sweetie?” Alma asked you as she placed the steaming teapot on the table.

“Yes, please, but I can grab a cup myself– sit down,” you smiled and padded the old woman’s shoulder, then you grabbed the bucket of apples and disappeared into the kitchen.

Alma started pouring the tea as a silence fell over the room. A small, “Thank you, ma’am,” left Joel’s lips as she moved on to pouring tea for her husband.

“So,” the man started before taking a sip of his tea, “what do you say Mr. Miller? You staying for the night?”

That night as he laid in a real bed for the first time in months, Joel had trouble falling asleep. He wasn’t used to this. Hadn’t been used to it for a while. His belly full, soft fabric against his skin, feeling warm, and clean. The old couple had offered him one of the two bedrooms on the first floor, the two mystery doors in the living room now revealed. Laying in his new bed he tried not to think about who he was sharing a wall with.

You.

You were something else, helpful and kind. Everything Joel hadn’t seen since the outbreak. At the dinner table you’d asked him questions and listened intently – even when his answers were short and brisk. There was a glimmer in your eye, and it touched something inside him he hadn’t felt in a long time. But you were young, mid to late twenties he reckoned, maybe a little older– anyways, he shouldn’t be harboring anything for you, it wouldn’t be right. Especially now, now that he’d agreed to stay.

After the dinner plates had been cleared, Arthur had folded a big map out on the table. “Here are we now,” he’d pointed a finger at the map. Montana. Southern Montana to be precise. “I’ll give it to you Mr. Miller, if you’ve made it this far on your own you probably won’t have any trouble making your way down south to Wyoming.”

“But?” Joel watched the grimace pulling at the old man’s face.

“But,” Arthur had said, “Winter is just around the corner and… well, going back out there in the wilderness alone during our winters is a dead trap, I’ll tell you that much.”

Joel had let the man go on about the far below freezing temperatures, the heavy snow, and the tough wind, but Joel wasn’t stupid. He knew the winters up here were harsh. It wasn’t even winter yet, but every day he’d felt the temperature drop lower and lower, and the last few of nights he’d even had to get a fire going, against his better judgement.

So– the deal was: Joel would stay over the winter. Just for the winter, he’d been adamant on not staying longer. He’d get a place to stay, a warm bed to sleep in, and food in his belly on one condition – he’d help out on the farm.

The fire crackled loudly, red tongues licking up the chimney as Joel fed it another log. He watched as the fire caught in the new log, devouring it quickly and with no mercy. It was really starting to heat up now. A small flicker of pride sparked in Joel chest. He’d always been good at building a fire. It was one of those things, Joel had come to learn, where you needed to pay attention, to have patience.

When he was younger, he’d take Tommy out camping sometimes, just the two of them. Mostly they’d go during the summer; Tommy wasn’t a fan of sleeping outside in the cold, though cold had meant something different back then in Texas. But Joel remembered one time he’d managed to convince him to go with him. It was right after he’d gotten his driver’s license, and his parents had given him a beat-up truck for his birthday – for sharing – they’d told him, “You need to give your little brother a ride when he needs it!” Joel wasn’t exactly thrilled about his future as Tommy’s private driver, but it didn’t mean he didn’t love his brother.

A few weeks into October he’d managed to convince Tommy to go camping. They’d packed the truck with their tents, sleeping bags, and fishing equipment, before they’d gotten on the road, driving to a lake where they knew there were fish to catch. Finding a place to camp was always difficult with Tommy. They’d parked Joel’s truck at the edge of the forest before they’d followed a hiking trail. Joel was convinced they’d walked at least three quarters of the way around the lake before they found a spot good enough for Tommy.

It had to be flat, but also shielded. There couldn’t be too many rocks, but there also had to be enough rocks to build a hearth. Tommy wanted it to be private, but he also wanted it to be open enough that he could see if someone would stumble upon their camp. Joel knew not to argue with him when he got like that, opting instead for a defeated, “Whatever.”

Setting up camp went relatively easy. They’d worked together building the tents, collecting rocks for their fireplace, and even managed to find a fallen tree to use as a bench. When the night slowly started to cover them in darkness, Tommy decided to get the fire going. Joel watched him work the logs into a pile as he started on filleting the fish they’d just caught.

“You’re doin’ it wrong,” he’d told his brother, “You’re suffocatin’ it.” He’d washed his hands in the lake, ridding himself of the slimy smell of fish, before crouching down next to Tommy.

The fire was one big bowl of smoke, and Joel caught himself wondering what messages Tommy must’ve been sending to the heavens. He removed some of the heavier logs, and the fire could breathe.

“See?” he’d looked at Tommy, “It just needed air.” Joel had shifted the smaller pieces of wood around and not long after the fire was alive.

That Joel, that green boy who liked to take his little brother camping, that Joel didn’t know how much those skills would come in handy in a few years when the world would get turned upside down.

“Do you have any mittens, Joel?”

Your question pulled Joel from his memories. He turned his head slightly, meeting your gaze from where you were huddled up in the corner of the couch. You looked cozy, but he knew you weren’t. The house was cold this morning, outside a thin layer of frost had stuck to the grass during the night. It was early too, the sun not having climbed high enough yet to peek over the mountains. You looked tired where you sat, clad in a wool sweater with a blanket pulled over your knees. Under the blanket Joel remembered you were still wearing your pajama pants, and in your hand you held a steaming cup of tea, peppermint, Joel knew, his own cup abandoned on the coffee table.

“What?” Joel answered, eyebrows furrowed.

“Do you have any mittens, Joel?” you repeated softly, like the way people tended to speak in the mornings, like they were afraid they’d wake up the world.

His calves were starting to burn from the strain of being crouched in front of the fireplace for a moment too long, and he tried his best to hide his groan, biting his teeth together as he stood to his feet, knees cracking loudly.

“Um, no,” he said, confused about your question.

“I’ll knit you a pair then,” you smiled before putting your cup down next to his.

“That’s… that ain’t necessary,” Joel hurried, but you waved him off.

“Sure it is,” you smiled again, much to Joel’s annoyance. He didn’t deserve your kindness, but you gave it away like it cost nothing. “If you’re gonna be helping Arthur out in the woods this winter, you need some mittens.”

Joel watched as you got up from your home on the couch and vanished into your bedroom. A moment later you appeared in the doorway with a basket under your arm.

“Also…” you gave him another smile as you sat back down again, placing the basket in your lap. It was close to overflowing with yarn, balls of black and white in varying sizes peeking over the top, the homespun ends fraying against the rough edges of the basket. “I’ll have something to do during the evenings,” you winked before you rummaged through the basket and fished out a measuring tape.

Joel shifted his weight from one foot to the other as he watched you. Mittens? Joel can’t remember if he’s ever owned a pair of mittens. Gloves, sure, but mittens?

You patted the cushion next to you, urging him to sit down, kind smile hanging off your lips like always. Sitting down, he folded his hands in his lap, suddenly very aware of how close you were sitting. It wasn’t like he hadn’t sat next to you before; he’d been here a few weeks now, and he was starting to know you, but for some reason, this felt different. Maybe it was the early morning, the quiet house, or the fact that Alma and Arthur were still sleeping upstairs, but it felt like it was just the two of you, alone, and Joel didn’t know how to feel about it.

You shifted towards him, the blanket slipping slightly off the couch with your movement, in your hands you held the measuring tape while you looked at him expectantly.

When Joel didn’t move, a smile quirked at the corner of your mouth before you grabbed one of his hands resting in his lap. You uncurled his fingers slowly, one by one, making Joel hold his breath.

“I need to see how big I need to make them,” you whispered, holding his hand very gently.

Joel’s heart hammered in his chest. Your hand was warm and soft, like the last time he’d touched you as you’d introduced yourself to him. Joel didn’t dare look at your face, or he’d say something stupid, so he didn’t. He looked at your joined hands, his brain trying to remember the last time someone had held his hand as gently as you did, your thumb running over the back of it soothingly.

He can’t remember. His hands are always empty.

With your other hand, a finger curled around the measuring tape, you slipped it around his wrist before leaning closer to look at the numbers.

“Is this too tight you think, or do you want them to be looser?” You asked through your lashes, eyes sparkling in the low morning light.

Joel cleared his throat, “No, that’s fine.”

“Okay,” you nodded, slipping the measuring tape from his wrist to write down the measurement. He hadn’t noticed your notebook until now. It was a little rough around the edges from use, the spined cracked and the paper a little yellow. Placing the pen in the seam, you grabbed the measuring tape again.

Loosening your grip on his hand you placed it over the thick of your thigh. Joel drew a quick breath, his heartbeat hammering in his ears, under his hand he could feel the warmth of you through the soft flannel.

You continued taking your measurements. You didn’t say anything, so neither did Joel, but you looked up at him through your lashes sometimes, and Joel thought that maybe the most useful thing one can do with empty hands, is hold on.

The creak of the stair made Joel jump, and like he’d been burned his hand retracted on reflex, as Arthur’s heavy steps got closer.

“Morning,” Arthur greeted as he ducked his head through the door to the living room.

“Mornin’,” Joel mumbled, head lowered as he gathered his hands in his lap.

“Good morning!” you smiled, always with that kind smile, “Did you sleep well, Arthur?” you got up from your seat before grabbing your teacup to follow Arthur into the kitchen, leaving the yarn and Joel.

Taking a deep breath, Joel pinched the top of his nose. He needed to get it together. You were just being your regular kind self; your soft touch was nothing more than that. Standing to his feet, Joel grabbed his own cup, trudging into the kitchen.

In the kitchen Arthur sat in his usual spot at the dining table, the chair closest to the window. “I need to get on with this barn soon,” Joel heard him say as he sat down opposite him. “It’s gonna fall apart come spring if we get as much snow as we did last year.”

Joel tried his best not to look at you as he heard you hum. You were stood at the kitchen counter slicing the bread Alma had baked yesterday, readying breakfast. Instead, Joel opted to gaze down into his teacup, where the peppermint leaves had all gathered at the bottom.

“Um,” Joel cleared his throat, “what needs fixin’?”

“What doesn’t need fixing in that barn?” Arthur sighed, peeling his eyes from out the window to Joel.

“I can uh,” Joel eyes shifted quickly to you before he cleared his throat again, “I can take a look at it, if ya want?”

Arthur’s eyebrows met in a furrow as he looked at Joel.

“I used to be a contractor,” Joel explained with a shrug, before taking a last cold sip of his tea.

“So, you know a thing or two about buildings I reckon?” Arthur asked.

“Yeah, well I used to,” Joel leaned back in his chair.

“Well, that would be very helpful Joel– I’d appreciated it!” Arthur smiled before leaning back in his chair making room for you as you started setting the table. Joel gave him a short nod in return, trying to fight the urge to look at you as you placed the food on the table.

Arthur had downplayed the state of the barn – it was a mess – it was dangerous, and had Joel told him as much. But it was nothing Joel couldn’t fix, as long as he had the right supplies, fortunately for him the forest would provide them with what they needed.

Thwack. Thwack. Thwack.

The axe dug a deep wound into the bark with every swing. Joel’s breath was heavy, and his arms ached, but it was a welcomed form of tiredness. A month into it, he was starting to get used to the work. There was something so satisfying about manual labor, of using his hands, of making something – he’d almost forgotten.

The routine of the work felt good. Waking up at dawn, then breakfast, he could use his body for something useful for the first time in twenty years and end the day with a warm meal for supper. This new temporary life was simple, but it was strangely normal.

Originally, Joel was only helping Arthur out in the woods for firewood through the winter– but now with the barn, they’d changed course. The last few days they’d started to become more selective with the trees; looking for the tallest and straightest ones that would fall safely.

A frozen sky hovered over the men as they worked. This morning when Joel had woken up, the thinnest layer of snow had fallen like powdered sugar during the night, turning the world bright with winter. Earlier in the week the frost had perched on the farm, and Joel had known winter was closing in. He’d lost count of the days and months passing while on his own, but Arthur had told him it was late October.

“It will start snowing properly soon,” Arthur said, breaking the silence between them.

Joel hummed before taking a bite of his packed lunch. They’d worked all morning – Joel felling the trees and Arthur cleaning them up and removing the branches. Now they were sat on a fresh tree stump each, their first break of the day.

“I have an old logging sled in the barn– used to be my father’s,” Arthur explained, “I think we should leave the trees here until the snow gets deep enough for the sled and have the horses pull them back to the farm.”

“Fine by me,” Joel took another bite of his lunch.

“The logs will have to dry out over the winter,” Arthur mused, “Then come spring we can start the repairs on the barn.”

Spring. If everything goes according to plan, Joel won’t be here come spring. He needed to find Tommy– he couldn’t, and he wasn’t gonna stay on the farm for any longer than necessary. He’d already decided– when the snow finally started to melt, Joel was gone.

Joel hummed, a non-committed answer. It was easier that way, to not get Arthur’s hopes up. He liked Arthur, he was a good man, a hard worker even in his old age, and silent when Joel wanted him to be. Joel liked Alma too, but her age shined through more easily than Arthur’s. Joel couldn’t help but notice her repeating herself more often and forgetting where she put things. It made life harder for you, Joel could see it. Your responsibilities were already a lot to handle as you took care of the animals mostly by yourself, but as Joel had discovered Alma starting to struggle with the housework, he’d noticed you starting to help her more often. In Joel’s mind it was unfair to you, but it wasn’t like he could blame Alma for growing older, in this world it was a feat.

Still, he’d try his best to help you when he could, like doing the dishes after dinner as you dried them off and put them away. The first few times you were both quiet, it was strangely intimate, only the sound of splashing water filling the space between you. One night he'd gotten brave, breaking the comfortable silence and asked you ‘What you thinkin’ about, sweetheart?’ You’d looked at him with big eyes, searching his own for something, but before he could figure out what it was, you’d answered him with a shrug. It was unlike you, unlike you to be this silent, but Joel didn’t push. The next night the silence persisted, and he’d thought adding ‘Sweetheart’ had been too much, but then the next night you’d sighed quietly and whispered, “I’m worried about Alma.”

Looking down at the mittens in his lap, the guilt gnawed at him. The look of worry in your eyes, Arthur’s hopeful wishes, and Alma’s aging. Joel couldn’t have anything tying him to this place. He was supposed to find his brother.

Suddenly, a black and orange butterfly landed on Joel’s knee. Joel stopped breathing, body going rigid as he tried not to move. How the hell was this butterfly still alive? It sat quiet on his knee, wings slowly retracting and widening behind it. Memories pushed its way to the forefront of Joel’s mind then.

Sarah. Another year had gone by, and the thought made his chest tighten.

“That’s quite a sight at this time of year,” he heard Arthur say, “Beautiful, aren’t they?”

“Y-yeah,” Joel stammered out an answer, afraid his voice would scare it away.

The longer Joel watched the butterfly he found his guilt started to slowly melt away. It’s okay, dad. It was like the rustling of the trees carried her voice with them. You’re on the right path.

“I can do that f’you want, sweetheart.”

Joel’s boots creaked under him as he walked across the barnyard. You looked up at the sound of his voice, smile blossoming across your face as you tightened your grip on the shovel.

“It’s alright,” you said with a grunt as you picked up more snow, adding it to the growing pile, “Good for me to get some physical work in.”

Joel nodded as you straightened up, hand going to your hip while the other leaned on the shovel, your heavy breath curled in small plumes out of your mouth. You took him in for a second, eyes flickering over his form before they fell on the rabbits hanging over Joel’s shoulder.

“Where’d you get those?” you asked, and Joel shrugged.

“Shot ‘em,” he said simply, “they walked right by me as I was choppin’– seemed too good to pass up.”

“Not for the rabbits,” you muttered, and Joel had to fight the urge to smile.

“You a vegetarian or somethin’?” he asked with a single raised eyebrow, and you waved him off.

“No,” you said pointedly, but a teasing lilt lingered, “Just stating a fact... we don’t eat a lot of rabbit around here, is all.”

Joel nodded slightly; it made sense. He knew there was a gun in the house, but it was a revolver– too small to do any real hunting, and Joel didn’t even know if there were bullets for it. So, Joel didn't ask further. Lucky for him, you did.

“So, you just shot those?” you asked, a frown pulling at your eyebrows, “Aren’t they fast?”

Joel made a nonchalant sort of face. “Ain’t that hard when you can aim straight.”

“Well, how do you aim straight?”

“You learn to shoot.”

You let out a small laugh, one that pulled at Joel’s lips. “And how did you go about learning that?”

Joel felt his smile drop, the leather strap of his shotgun weighing heavy on his shoulder, “Practice.”

You didn’t seem to notice the change in his demeanor as you dug the shovel into the snow, so it stood by itself like a watchman. “Can you teach me?” you asked, the snow creaking under your shoes as you took a few steps closer.

His lips pulled at the corner, “No.”

Your eyes widened with disappointment, eyebrows pulling together in a frown as you asked, “Why?”

“Nothin’ good ever comes from it,” Joel shrugged.

“Okay,” you huffed a laugh, “that’s sinister.” Then you narrowed your eyes at him, gearing up for an argument no doubt with the way you rested your hand on your hip. “What if I also wanted to go hunting?” you posed, and Joel shook his head.

“That ain’t happenin’, sweetheart.”

“Okay, but now you’ve brought us rabbits– and what if I end up really liking rabbit?” you bit down on your bottom lip, unconsciously showing off you own rabbit teeth.

Cute.

“Then I’ll shoot as many rabbits as you want,” Joel countered with a teasing smile before tightening his hold on the rope slung over his other shoulder (the one he’d tied the rabbits to), and walked towards the kitchen door at the back of the farmhouse.

He heard you huff in defeat behind him, your creaky steps following him up the stairs and inside. Walking into the kitchen Joel placed the rabbits on the table before he pulled at his mittens, stripped off his jacket, and hung it neatly over the back of one of the dining chairs. Grabbing one of the rabbits he brought it to the kitchen counter to start dressing it, fighting the urge to turn his head as he heard you enter the room.

“Come on, Joel,” you whined, “Why won’t you teach me?”

“Told you already,” Joel replied, “Nothin’ good comes from learnin’ to shoot things.”

Shifting the rabbit around on the counter he reached for the butcher knife in the knife block.

“You know, that’s a really stupid way of saying you don’t want to spend the time,” you told him, your voice closer now as you leaned against the kitchen counter.  

“When exactly did ya hear me sayin’ I don't wanna spend time with you?” Joel asked, his eyebrows pulled together in a frown.

“You won’t teach me to shoot,” you teased, and Joel could hear the smile in your voice.

Joel huffed out a laugh, “Damn right I won’t.”  

He heard you let out a whiney huff, before you turned on your heel, muttering out a curse under your breath when you accidently bumped your hip into the counter and Joel couldn’t help the smile teasing at his lips. You sat down with an overdramatic sigh, and Joel still didn’t look at you – he knew he’d cave eventually if he did, say yes against his better judgement – so he kept his eyes on the knife in his hand.

“How’s Arthur?” Joel asked as he worked.

“I don’t know,” you sighed, “The same I think– Alma was up there looking after him last time I checked.”

This time Joel allowed himself to look at you. You sat sideways on the wooden chair, legs crossed and tucked under your chair with your head hanging, eyes glued to your lap. Gone were the teasing, and gone were the smiles.

“He’ll be fine,” Joel said, his eyes back on the rabbit, “it’s just a cold.”

“Yeah… but he’s been getting sick a lot more often,” your voice was low, like you didn’t want them to hear you upstairs, “you can’t help but think the worst you know?”

Joel put the knife down and moved over to the sink. He quickly washed his hands before grabbing a towel to dry off, twisting it in his hands as he approached you. Placing the towel on the counter, he hesitated for a moment as he watched you, watched the way you twisted your hands in your lap with no sense of purpose or intent. It was like the worry dripped down your body. Pushing off the counter Joel knelt in front of you, a grunt escaped him as his knees clicked loudly, his balance slightly off on his haunches.

“Shit,” Joel huffed out a laugh, and you followed. Your palms landed on his knees to keep him steady, warmth spreading like jolting electricity.

“Sweetheart, I’ll tell you what–” he stopped himself when you looked at him through your lashes, trying to ignore the way your eyes focused on his mouth as he spoke. “’s just a cold, he’ll be up ‘n walkin’ tomorrow– man’s got gumption.”

“Yeah?” your eyes flickered upwards, meeting his.

Suddenly, under your gaze Joel felt brave. His hand moved on its own accord, cupping your cheek in his hand. He let his thumb ghost over your skin, still cold under his fingertips from being outside, but warming under his touch.

“Yeah, sweetheart.”

You didn’t say anything for a moment, you only watched him with glimmering eyes, like you were under a spell. Maybe he was too.

“Still,” you sighed, “Would be better if I could pick up more of the slack around here... Arthur does a lot, and I wish I could do more to support them.”

“Like what? You take care of the animals all by yourself– that’s more than enough.”

“Well, I could learn to shoot rabbits,” you told him, before the corners of your mouth pulled into a pleased smirk as he rolled his eyes at you.

Reluctantly, he pulled his hand away, making a move to stand when you grabbed his wrist, stopping him.

“I’m kidding, Joel,” you smiled, before a more serious look washed over your features. “I mean it’s… It’s gonna be empty here without you,” you said, “I’m starting to really like having you here, Joel.”

Joel turned his hand to rest the back of it on your thigh, your hand fitting in his.

“I uh,” his eyes fixated on your joined hands, then he cleared his throat, “I’ll stay as long as you need me to. I’m not leavin’ you alone, sweetheart.”

Your eyes lit up at his words, smile growing large across your face. Joel’s heart drummed in his chest as your eyes flickered down to his mouth again.

“Thank you,” you said in a low voice, and then you did something Joel thought was gonna make his heart stop beating. You leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. It bloomed against his skin, and made wings flutter against the walls of his stomach.

“You’re a good man, Joel Miller,” you whispered before you pulled away, looking at him with kindness in your eyes.

If only you knew, Joel thought, if only you knew the blood on his hands.

He couldn’t look at you when you looked at him like that. Like you believed your own words. So, he cleared his throat awkwardly and stood to his feet, his knees clicking as your hand slipped from his movement. He walked back to the counter, fingers grabbing the towel with no other purpose than to calm himself down.

After placing the towel back where it usually hung, he grabbed the knife again, turning his attention back to the rabbit, allowing himself to steal a few glances at you where you sat looking out the kitchen window.

“Hey, uh,” Joel broke the growing silence after a few minutes, “how ‘bout rabbit stew for lunch?”

Your head snapped to look at him as he spoke, a smile ghosting over your lips as you said, “I’ll go get some vegetables from the cellar.”

Joel wouldn’t necessarily call himself a good cook – he wouldn’t even call himself a cook in the first place. Back before the outbreak he’d been forced to learn the basics as a fresh single dad, but he’d never been able to provide Sarah with gourmet meals very often, and when Sarah had gotten older, he’d been embarrassed to say that her food was always better than his – eggshells and all. One summer he’d bought himself a nice grill– one of those way too expensive gas grills with too many fancy accessories for Joel to regularly use. He’d had a job that ended up paying well, some rich guy’s mansion that needed renovating, and decided to treat himself for once. That summer all their meals had come from that grill, well mostly, and afterwards Joel looked at himself as a pretty good griller, if nothing else.

You on the other hand, you knew what you were doing, it was clear in the effortlessly way you moved beside him as you got the vegetables ready for the stew. Joel seared the meat to the best of his abilities, making sure it was properly browned on both sides before setting it aside. After that, it was clear that you were in charge, and Joel let you boss him around and tell him what to do. It made his heart warm around the edges, watching how you put so much love and care into everything you did.

An hour later you finally sat down to eat; two hearty bowls of stew each as light snowflakes covered the world outside. You’d let the pot simmer on low over the heat as you’d wanted to bring up a bowl for Arthur and Alma later.

“So…” you started, watching as Joel dug into his bowl, “How’s the stew?”

“’s good!” Joel nodded through a mouthful, and he wasn’t lying. It was good, really good in fact.

“Yeah?” you bubbled through a smile, before you dug into your own bowl to see if he’d spoken the truth. He watched as you face brightened as you chewed, nodding your head to confirm his verdict.

“I think I really like rabbit, Joel,” you said through a teasing smile, and Joel couldn’t fight the chuckle from spilling.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, teasing smile not going anywhere, “So… when are you teaching me to shoot?”

“Shut up.”

The living room was quiet, safe for the cracking of the fire. It had almost died out when Joel had stepped out of his room. He’d been twisting and turning again, counting sheep, but nothing had been able to pull him under the blanket of sleep. He was plumb tired too, that was the worst part. The embers hummed with a low light, and with a small stick Joel had spread them out before placing a small piece of wood on top. No less than a minute later the fire fed on the log.

Taking a seat and leaning back in the lounge chair, Joel looked out the window with tired eyes. The moon looked down on him, big and bright, it shone its white light over the barnyard like a spotlight. His thoughts were clouded over as he gazed up. A billion little lights turning into bright spheres in the sky.

On nights like this, Joel felt like he was barely breathing at all.

His thoughts didn’t stray for long before they found you again. Lately, you were always on his mind. He thought about how you’d looked mere hours ago, when he’d sat in this same exact chair, only this time it was facing towards the sofa and not the window.

You’d been sat curled up in the corner, blanket thrown over your lap with a book in hand. You’d told him you’d read all the books in the house already, but it didn’t stop you from coming back to your favorites. Joel had been reading his own book, an old western he’d found in the bookshelf in the upstairs hallway a few days ago. It was entertaining, but not enough to hold his attention. He found his eyes had a mind of their own, slipping over the top to steal a peek at you as you read, feeling a smile tug at his lips at the barely there furrow of concentration between your eyebrows.

“Joel.”

Joel perked up at the whisper of his name, the memories fading like ripples in still water. He looked around the room –nothing. He sat quietly in his chair for a moment, listening, as his heartbeat quickened in his chest. It had been your voice, hadn’t it? Or was he starting to lose it? His eyes fell to the door of your bedroom. He hadn’t noticed it until now, but he could see it was slightly ajar.

“Joel.”

The voice was louder this time, almost strained, but it was yours. A thousand scenarios flashed before his eyes then at your tone. Was there someone in your room? Were you in danger? Seconds later Joel crossed the room, a mix of fear and protectiveness overcoming him.

Leaning up against your door he listened for the intruder as he readied himself. The soft crinkling of your sheets combined with your strained whimpers was all it took for him to push the door open, fearing the worst.

And…

It was empty, your room, you were alone. Joel immediately felt stupid– the only intruder here was him.

He was about to step out, embarrassed at his actions, when he heard it again, his name falling from your lips. It was all Joel needed to finally take in your body, squirming under your sheets, still asleep. The realization of what he’d just walked in on made Joel’s eyes widen.

Laying on your back, the duvet had slipped down your torso from your movements to reveal the thin t-shirt you wore to bed. Like this he could see your perked nipples through the fabric, as your chest quickly rose and fell, making Joel’s imagination start to run wild.

“Joel.”

In his pajama pants, Joel could feel his cock come alive from the soft whimper that left your lips along with his name. He couldn’t move, like some farm elf had glued his feet to the floor while he wasn’t looking. He watched as you scrunched your face together in pleasure, another whimper falling from your lips, and all the blood in Joel’s body rushed down south.

As if the soundwaves from your voice had broken against him, he took a step backwards, and then another, and another until he crossed the threshold of your door. He tried his best to be quiet, to not wake you and have you catch him in your room in the middle of the night.

The image of you squirming under your sheets, dreaming of him, didn’t leave him as he closed the door to his own room. With a sigh his head fell against the door, a strong hand gliding down his front to hover over his aching cock.

Joel Miller was no saint, but what he was doing– what he was about to do, was bad.

“Shit,” he quietly hissed, running his hand up his clothed cock. He hadn’t touched himself properly in a long time, not since he left Boston.

His cock reacted to his touch, growing harder and harder until he couldn’t take it anymore. He hooked his finger around the hem of his pajama pants, pulling them down to the thick of his thigh, freeing himself. He hissed at the cold air hitting his length, as it bopped with the movement of being freed. Bringing his hand to his mouth, Joel spat, before he wrapped his spit-soaked hand around himself.

His mind found you again as he started stroking himself, slowly at first, pumping himself with a practiced hand, squeezing himself at the base before bringing his hand up to thumb at the tip. Joel couldn’t get the way you sounded out of his mind. Couldn’t forget how you were squirming in your bed, dreaming of him. Couldn’t shake the thought of pulling those moans and whimpers from you with his hands, and his mouth, and with his cock.

“Fuck.”

Joel tried to be quiet, but he couldn’t fight the moan from slipping from his lips. Fuck, he wanted you. He wanted his hands all over you. Closing his eyes his mouth dropped open as he imagined what he was dying to do to you.

How much he’d wanted to help you out of your t-shirt, run his hands over your breasts and tease your nipples. Take his time to pull those moans and whimpers from your soft lips as he teased you with kisses down your body, down the valley of your breasts, your tummy, down to you to your–

Another low moan fell from Joel’s lips. He squeezed himself tighter as he jerked himself off, precum pearling at the tip, and slipping down his length, mixing with his spit.

The sound of the slick rhythm of his hand filled his bedroom as he increased the pace of his strokes. He had to bite down on his lip to strangle a groan when thoughts of getting between your legs, spreading them open and getting his mouth on you filled his head. He fantasized about how you’d taste falling apart on his tongue–Fuck, how you’d sound falling apart around his cock.

His eyes fell shut as he fisted himself faster. Joel could feel his orgasm quickly building, coiling tight in his tummy. With his free hand he cupped his balls, and then he couldn’t help but imagine it was you, a picture of you on your knees before him flashed behind his eyelids, your tongue lapping at his balls while your hand pumped his cock.

“Shit.”

With a strained groan, thick ropes of cum spilled over his knuckles and down his length, coating him in his release. His breath came out ragged, as he continued his strokes, milking himself of the rest of his release.

Fuck.

His cock softened in his hand as he calmed down from his high. With a quiet groan he pushed himself off the door, looking around his room for something to clean himself up with.

The guilt of what he’d done washed over him quickly, settling in his chest like a heavy weight. You were so young, and beautiful, and Joel just an old man. He shouldn’t want you like this, shouldn’t want you this much.

Climbing under the covers, Joel couldn’t shake his thoughts of you, of you dreaming about him in your bed, about your smiles, and your touch. A supercut of you rolling like a tape in his minds eye. A supercut of you bundled up under a blanket on the sofa, knitting him his mittens. Of you, your own knitted hat pulled tightly down over your ears as you stepped out into the snow to check on the animals. Of the way you’d looked at him for the first time, with the bucket of apples under your arm, and the sweet taste of them as you’d offered him one later, after dinner.

Finally, Joel could breathe.

next part -> here! i hope someone liked this? if you did a comment, reply or an ask is always welcome and they make me super happy <3 other than that thank you for reading!!

© shellshocklove, 2024 i do not give any permission to repost, translate, feed to AI or redistribute any of my writing, with or without credit!

[chimcess]

Waterlog || pjm (2)

Pairing: Jimin x Reader Other tags: Olympic Swimmer!Jimin, Ex Olympic Swimmer! Reader, Swim Coach!Reader Genre: Strangers to Friends to Lovers!AU, Coach!AU, Swimming!AU, HEAVY Angst, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, fluff, eventual smut, I'm so soft for these two it's crazy. Word Count: 11.5k+ Synopsis: After a car accident ends her athletic career, Y/N has slowly started rebuilding her life again as a high school swim coach. That’s until she gets a request from an old friend and finds herself back in the spotlight as the new coach of Olympic swimmer, Park Jimin. Warnings: PINING, sexual tension, sad backstory, parental issues, more than likely bad swimming terminology, probably some bad work out advice, i'm trying my best lol, tae is too much but i love him, talks of past drug use (not reader or jimin), strong language, mental health things, medication use, allusions to depression, did i say pining?, reader is horny and awkward 99% of the time, can we blame her?, mood swings, i think they are so cute together, i promise more romance is coming soon A/N: Howdy. I know we're having a pretty slow start, but I think it'll be worth it in the end. I enjoy a good slow burn, especially when there's so much awkward sexual tension involved. Thanks for reading!!!

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Waking up the next morning, I was greeted by a loud knocking on my door. Stumbling, I told whoever it was that I was on my way. The knocking stopped but was quickly followed by Violet’s loud voice. My things were here, and I needed to let the movers inside.

“Christian and Kook are here already,” She added. “Managed to get an extra pair of hands, too.”

I changed into a pair of jeans and threw on a pull over. It was not supposed to be as cold today, but I did not think a short-sleeved shirt would be enough to keep me warm. Sliding into my boots, I opened the front door.

Violet was there, her hair in a braid again, wearing a blue plaid shirt and bootcut jeans. Beside her was Jimin, a large smile already on his face. Two other men were here. I was certain I had seen one of them before. He was very handsome with a heart shaped face and soft chin, large, asymmetrical brown eyes, and downturned lips. His hair was very obviously dyed, the blue so bright when the sun hit it my eyes hurt.

The other man was less familiar. His hair was black, styled into a trendy wolf cut, with his bangs pulled out of his face into a ponytail. He had a pure, youthful, and elegant look about him, and a few piercings. There was one on his eyebrow, one on his bottom lip, and so many on each ear I could not count them all. If I could describe him in a single word, it would be cartoonish. His eyes took up most of his face, large and doe-like, with all of his other features soft and small. Like the blue haired man, he was very handsome.

This upset me more than it should have, because despite how wonderful they both looked, all I could think about was how much I preferred Jimin. It was incomparable, actually. While they were certainly my type, I could only see how not Jimin-like their features were.

“Good morning,” I greeted them awkwardly, my voice scratchy. “I’m Y/N. It’s nice to meet you both.”

“It’s such an honor to meet you,” The blue haired man’s enthusiasm caught me off guard. Despite me never making the move to shake either one of their hands, he reached for mine anyway. He reminded me of a labrador retriever, and I could imagine a tail wagging in time with his vigorous handshake. “I’m Taehyung Kim. I used to watch you, like, all the time back in the day.”

I knew that name. Studying his face a little more, it hit me. Taehyung Kim, a.k.a., The Seal of Michigan, a.k.a, V. I never understood why he had been given that last one, but it must have some sort of meaning to him because the guy lights up when anyone uses it. He was a famous snowboarder and had been to the 2020 winter Olympics. He was just a few months younger than Jimin.

“That’s very kind of you to say,” I gripped his hand back a bit more now. “I watched you at the last Olympics. You did great.”

He blushed and let go of my hand, “I didn’t win anything, but I had a lot of fun.”

That was true. The kid was brand new on the scene and let some of his nerves get to him. I had learned the hard way that hesitation could ruin a great performance, but I was sure he would do better in January. The Winter Olympics were always a few months ahead of summer, and I would surely be watching Taehyung this year. If I was going to spend time with Jimin then I would need to get along with his friends.

“It’s not always about winning,” I tried to comfort him. “I didn’t win every time either.”

That placated him. Jimin quickly introduced me to Jungkook after. He was an NHL player for the Red Wings. I admitted that I had no idea who he was and never really watched hockey before, but that only made Jungkook swear to make me an avid fan before I left Michigan. For some reason, I believed him.

It did not take long for the movers to get all of my furniture and boxes into the house. With the boys’ help, I was tipping the two men much earlier than I anticipated. All three of them insisted on helping me unpack despite me telling them I could do it on my own. The place was entirely too small for the four of us, but we managed to make it work.

I had told them my bedroom was off limits. I unpacked my clothes and put my underwear away. My room was the largest in the house. With enough space for my full-sized bed, nightstands, and dresser, I was pleased. The only downside was not having a closet, but I did not bring anything nice enough for it to really matter. It was inconvenient but not the end of the world.

I was, however, happy to see more color. My blanket was dark orange, pillowcases covered in baby pink cow print, and the otter plushie Namjoon’s mom made me was resting right in between them. I installed some simple shelving above my bed, warmly lit Christmas lights wrapped around the bars, where I displayed my books and a few of my plants. The rest were lined up on the windowsill beside the bed.

Brightly colored art now hung on the walls, a large mirror above my dresser, and a peg board for my earrings made the space feel lived in. Whatever books could not fit on my shelves got stacked and put on the nightstand. I still wanted to buy a rug and curtains, but that was on the bottom of my list of priorities.

The boys were all talking and laughing as they worked which helped me relax. I hated being trapped in quiet spaces. Finished with my room, I went to check in with them and move things around. I doubted any of them would get the knick-knacks just right.

“Don’t worry about the decorations,” I said, announcing my presence. Taehyung was staring at two of my paintings with mild panic. “I’ll take that.”

Snatching the photos, I smiled at him. The living room was coming together nicely. Jungkook pushed the dark green loveseat against the wall and all of my throws were on top of it. My largest potted plant was beside it and I decided then I would keep it there. Moving the throw pillows to the floor, I started to put my wall art up. Hoseok complained that I was going to become a hoarder if I bought any more shit. Andrea, however, said that I had great taste, so I listened to her instead.

“You’re a big face of Earthy colors,” Jungkook said, looking around the house. “Lots of plants, too.”

I shrugged, “My fiancé had a lot of succulents and stuff, so I guess it rubbed off on me after a while.”

In truth, Namjoon not only had succulents and cacti, but an entire apartment filled with plants. He had a small garden in the back, vegetables and herbs growing in despite the weather in Colorado making it difficult. The man had a green thumb and loved taking care of things. I had been in charge of them once we moved in together and learned to love it. Even after he died, I couldn’t imagine not having at least five plants in the house.

I noticed the room had gone eerily quiet. I realized then what I had said. It was the first time I had spoken about Namjoon with any of them. Knowing I had made the atmosphere awkward, I tried to break up the tension.

“What colors do you like, Jungkook?”

I could physically feel the mood lighten.

“Black,” His reply was quick. I groaned. He laughed. “What? I like the clean look.”

“It’s not clean,” I argued. “It’s depressing.”

Taehyung took my side, “My house isn’t as decorated as yours, but I have more going on than either one of them. I’m a huge fan of video games and photography so I have a lot of stuff hanging up.”

“Don’t listen to him,” Jimin chimed in from the bathroom. He placed himself in charge of getting that room squared away. “His place isn’t as nice as yours. It’s all cluttered and disorganized."

“Nu uh,” Taehyung argued childishly.

“Dude, you have stuff everywhere,” Jungkook shot back, handing me another picture frame.

“They’re lying,” Taehyung told me.

“You’re so full of shit, Tae,” Jungkook sighed.

“Literally the dumbest thing to lie about,” Jimin snarkily threw in from the bathroom.

“Bullies,” Taehyung was addressing me again and this time I could not help my chuckles. “They always gang up on me.”

As the boys continued to bicker, I worked. I finished hanging up the art above the sofa and got to organizing the throws. Taehyung had already pulled out my rug, and I started figuring out how I wanted to place all of the floor pillows. Namjoon never used the couch, no one in his family did, and I had become so conscious of their comfort that I always had a large array of pillows on the floor for them to use. After a few years, I had joined them, and I kept up the trend once I moved to the Springs. The sofa was little more than decoration.

“Damn, these are nice.”

Looking over my shoulder, I was surprised to see Jungkook holding up one of my medals. I was positive I had not packed it and the box he was hunched over was completely unfamiliar as well. Embarrassment and anger swelled up in my chest. I had placed Minho and Tilly in charge of coordinating with the movers so I could focus on work and training Hoseok before I left. If I had to guess, Tilly had thought it wise to ship over a large package of my most prized possessions for some God forsaken reason.

“I don’t know why those are here,” I hoped my voice sounded playful and carefree. I did not want another tense moment. “One of my friends must have packed them.”

“Holy shit,” Taehyung was now holding the medal. “These are heavy. You have so many.”

Walking over to the box, I took out the rest of the medals. Tilly had only packed four of the eight Olympic medals I owned, probably running out of room. Framed photos of me swimming, with the rest of my team, and my coach were also in the box. My swimsuit from the last Olympics I competed at was folded at the very bottom of the box, my goggles and cap wrapped up in the fabric, and underneath it was something I had not been expecting. A framed photograph.

I remembered that night as if it were yesterday. I was eighteen coming off the back of two major wins and making my mark in the athletic community. I had just moved to Denver; Victor had gotten divorced the year prior and his ex-wife moved to Colorful Colorado taking his daughter with her. My coach demanded he was close enough to see her every weekend. It really did not matter to me where I lived, so it was one of the easier decisions I had to make.

I knew Hoseok lived in the area, and we had always been friendly at the meets we had in common. I ended up getting his number from Ozzie and after getting coffee I knew we would be friends for life. The picture was taken at his New Year’s Eve Party. I needed to get laid, he had said, and he knew a few guys he thought I might hit it off with. That was where I met Namjoon.

He was a college student, fresh faced and stumbling over his words. I was charmed by him almost instantly, even if Hoseok was positive the two of us were too different to last. I could recall the smell of fireworks in the air, the way his voice cracked whenever another one would go off, and how excited his eyes looked whenever I asked him about his major. Namjoon spoke for hours about Philosophy, all of his favorite poets, and the way he believed the universe worked. He was so clumsy it was practically a disability, and the loud sounds were so nerve wracking, he flinched whenever the fireworks boomed.

Picking up the small picture, I smiled. It was taken right after midnight. Hoseok’s sister said we looked so sweet that she could not help herself. I had all but ripped Namjoon’s hair out when the countdown began, kissing him before midnight ever came. His hands rested gently on my hips, and he huffed like he had run a marathon when we finally pulled apart. His breath was hot when he went back in for more, panting into my mouth as I clung to him like an addict. It was a beautiful moment. It was a moment I would never forget.

Suddenly, I was no longer mad at Matilda. I was sure it had been her who did this. Minho would not go through so much trouble if he thought it would upset me. Either way, I was happy to have the picture. While I was no longer in love with Namjoon, my heart slowly healing itself and making space for someone new, I would never forget our time together. It was too perfect, too magical; too loving to forget.

“Is that him?” Taehyung asked. The way he said it told me that he knew what had happened. I doubted there was a person in our world who didn't know. “The guy who died?”

I nodded, “His name was Namjoon.”

“Damn, that’s rough,” Jungkook’s voice was very gentle, and I could hear the compassion in it. “Sorry to hear that. Hope you’re doing okay.”

I smiled at him and nodded, “It was a few years ago.”

Taehyung was the one who broke the moment this time and I was grateful for the reprieve.

“These aren’t all of them, right?” He pointed at the medals still in the box. "Olympic medals, I mean."

I shook my head, “No but I guess she just grabbed the ones I had at my house. The other four I keep at my school. They’re in a case in my office.”

The ones Tilly had packed away were from 2012. Andrea had been the one to convince me to bring my other medals to school. Before that I had them all stored in a box in the deepest corner of my basement. I hated looking at them. Hated everything that they represented. The only reason these had been hanging up was because I could not be bothered taking them down.

“Where should we put them?” Jungkook asked.

I shrugged, “No idea. Just keep them in the box for now.”

Truthfully, I had no intention of putting them anywhere. While happy to have the photo of Namjoon and I, my feelings on dragging these things around had not changed. I would be very upset if I lost or damaged any of this stuff. Putting everything away, save the picture, I closed the box back up and placed the photo on my coffee table. I would find a better place for it later.

Like all of the times I had been around him, Jimin bled into the background. I listened for his voice, waited for him to add something to the conversation, but he kept to himself. Even when he left the bathroom and joined the three of us, he only answered in one-word sentences and made sound effects to show he was listening. Taehyung and Jungkook seemed used to it, so I had to believe this was just how Jimin normally was.

“You should come and grab some drinks with us,” Jungkook smiled at me.

The boys were going out for a late lunch since we finished a little later than we had thought we would. I was appreciative that they had invited me out but declined the offer. All of them were disappointed.

“Why not?” Taehyung wiggled a large set of keys at me. I could not imagine what all of them could be for and the sound they made when they moved bothered me. “You worried the food’s going to suck or something?”

I shook my head, laughing, “No, it’s nothing like that. I just don’t feel comfortable going to a bar.”

Jimin smiled at me, a small, tight-lipped smile, and I almost laughed at myself when I realized I was holding my breath. I was being ridiculous. I would call Hoseok tonight to get my head screwed back on.

“It’s not a bar,” It was heavenly to hear his voice again. “Taehyung and I don’t drink. Jungkook just likes to sit at the bar so he can watch the games.”

“Oh,” I replied dumbly. “I guess I can come along then.”

Jimin offered to give me a ride while Jungkook and Taehyung rode in the hockey player's beat up Jeep. He was just as quiet on the ride to the restaurant as he was back at the house, and while I wanted to break him out of whatever shell he had put around himself, I had no idea how. We were supposed to work together and barely spoke. Ozzie was not going to be happy about this.

“What time are we getting your car?”

I jumped, not prepared for the question. His eyes were still on the road, and it looked like he was forcing himself to not look my way. It hurt my feelings, but I knew I would have to get over it. Whatever his problem was, it had nothing to do with me and I would not let it get in between our working relationship.

“Whenever you want to go,” I replied, going back to looking out of the window.

“We’ll pick it up after we eat. My mom invited you over for dinner. by the way. If you're up for it.”

This had been the most he had said all day, but his voice was off. It was embarrassing how quickly I had become attuned to his little mannerisms, but I was so sure that something was wrong with him it was eerie. His tone was flat and disinterested, and I knew I had done nothing to upset him. Something was obviously bothering him, and I would have to silently support him in my own way. I was not comfortable being more upfront and something told me that Jimin would not like my overstepping.

“I might,” I purposely kept my tone light, hoping he did not realize I could see the darkness in his eyes. Looking at him, I asked, “What is she making?”

“Beef and radish stew,” The mundane topic seemed to ease his frown. “She got a yellow corvina from the Asian market yesterday so she’s going to roast it. Do you like fish?”

“Yeah,” I nodded. “It sounds nice. I’ll go.”

A ghost of a smile graced his pretty face and I felt like I had won the lottery. Carefully composed, I looked back out of the window, hiding my little smile behind my hand. He was quiet again, the only sounds in the car being our breathing, but it felt lighter. Finally, I let myself admire the scenery.

Taehyung and Jungkook were already at the bar when we arrived and as soon as we sat down, the snowboarder was quick to hog all of my attention. While Jungkook watched a baseball game on the big screens, Taehyung talked animatedly about his family. Jimin was quietly sipping on a Coke in the seat next to me. It was strange to see how easily his friends ignored him. Like they knew he did not feel like talking.

“My sisters are both in college,” Taehyung continued to ramble. “Twins. It was a nightmare being the baby brother.”

I nodded along and tried my best to keep up with him. I kept getting distracted by Jimin. He barely moved and seemed to be mindlessly watching the tv. He looked so sad it broke my heart. Still, no one else said anything so I kept my thoughts to myself.

“Oh!” Taehyung gasped, noticing a few people who walked in. “I’m going to go say ‘hi.’ It was so great meeting you.”

With a bright smile, Taehyung told the boys about the group and Jungkook decided to join him. Jimin did not even acknowledge he had said anything. Leaving us alone, the restaurant was loud and filled with their chattering.

“Are you hungry?” I asked, trying to make conversation. Picking up the menu the bartender had left with Taehyung when we first arrived, I gave it a quick once over. “We can split an appetizer.”

Jimin looked tired and sad, but I did not know what to say or do for him. We were not lovers, not even friends. We were a pair of strangers who were expected to work together. This seemed much easier over the phone. I took a nervous sip of my drink.

“What are you thinking?” Just the sound of him talking eased my anxiety.

“Uh,” I had barely looked at their menu and pointed to a random item. “Fried pickles?”

Jimin smiled lazily and looked at me, his eyes amused.

“You don’t sound very sure of yourself.”

I shrugged, embarrassed. “I just said the first thing I saw.”

Putting his cup down, Jimin grabbed the menu from my hands and laid it flat on the bar. We leaned over the small paper, our knees touching. I could smell his cologne now and my mouth watered. He smelled so good I struggled to focus.

“Most of the shit here is awful,” His voice had more life in it now and I was glad to see the corners of his mouth pulled up. “Only things worth getting are the chips and salsa, fried cheese, and pasties. The pizza is fine, too, but not worth the money.”

Talking distracted him from whatever had been on his mind, and it made Jungkook and Taehyung’s behavior odd. They were obviously very close, but if I could see how much happier he looked when he was shooting the shit, how couldn’t they? They probably knew something I didn’t, but it did nothing but rub me the wrong way. My friends would annoy me until I had no choice but to talk back.

“Chips are usually pretty safe,” We both agreed on it. “Do you just want chips? I don’t mind getting you a burger or something.”

He shook his head, “Like I said, most of the shit here is awful. Don’t waste your money.”

I ordered the chips for us, and the bartender was happy to help us out. This place was pathetically empty save us and the group Jungkook and Taehyung ditched us for. They were very loud and rowdy, something Jimin said was completely normal. Apparently, they all knew one another but he hadn’t felt like spending time with any of them.

“Are you feeling alright?” I asked, heart pounding. My anxiety over the question was ridiculous, but I felt like this was a good moment to ask. We were both comfortable and the tightness around his eyes was finally eased.

“Just one of those days,” He replied, voice soft.

I sighed, “I get them, too. They’re the fucking worst.”

He chuckled darkly, “It’s like you wake up and that’s already taken all of the energy you had for the day.”

“Why’d you come to the house?” I asked, flagging the bartender for a refill. “I wouldn’t have been upset if you bailed.”

Jimin flushed, “I said I was coming so I came.”

No, I thought, you thought I was going to be mad if you hadn’t shown up. Hamilton had this poor kid so fucked up and scared it pissed me off. As long as I knew Matt, he had always been an ass, but to think he had his trainee putting shit before his mental health and wellbeing made whatever sliver of respect I had for him vanish.

I took a long sip of my drink, “We can’t work together if you don’t talk to me. That will piss me off way more than you canceling on me.”

“Okay,” He let out a very large breath. “I’ll let you know next time.”

As we ate our chips, we moved into safer waters. Jimin was still less talkative in person, but nowhere near as tense as he had been all morning. I found that music was one of his favorite things, and I discussed my own interests in more depth and detail than I ever had before. Jimin’s taste was varied but stuck mostly in 90s R&B and soft Indie artists I had never heard of. At some point I ordered spicy wings and had to admit Jimin was right- they really were awful.

We left the other two behind to go and pick up my car. Jungkook and Taehyung seemed more than happy to watch us leave and the large table barely acknowledged my presence. Jimin accepted their happy shouts when he approached, hugging the ones who stood up to greet him, and forced one of his small, pitiful smiles at a particular brunette who kept batting her eyelashes at him. He introduced me but none of them seemed to really care. Especially the brunette.

“Let me get your number,” Taehyung said to me, holding out a hand for my phone. “We need to hang out again.”

I was nervous about giving him a way to contact me. He reminded me of Tilly, though ten times more energetic, and she always found a way to get on my nerves (the box being one of many examples). Taehyung had yet to overstep the imaginary boundaries I had, but his complete lack of personal space etiquette was astounding. He touched me more in one day than any of my friends in an entire year. He seemed like the type of person to text every day and send a million pictures of himself doing random shit. Even with that in mind, I handed my phone over. He was too nice to say no to.

“Do you like sushi?” Taehyung asked, handing me my phone. “There’s a great place in Detroit we can go to.”

The idea of being trapped in a car with the snowboarder for 45 minutes was not appealing. I could only imagine how much he could talk when he was really excited about something. I would entertain the idea if Jungkook or Jimin came as a buffer, especially if one of them could sit up front. Taehyung yapping away in my ear would give me the biggest migraine I had ever had, and my anxiety over not being entirely focused on the road would make me snippy and rude.

“Only if I can come,” Jungkook piped up. “You’re not going to Bash without me, dude.”

“Well yeah,” Taehyung rolled his eyes. “Y/N has to meet Milo and Darcy,” He looked at me, grinning happily. “I think you would really get along.”

I had no idea who either of those people were, but I did not want to ask any questions. Jimin was inching back towards me and telling the others goodbye, and I did not want to hold him up. Taehyung started making plans that I did not pay any attention to. He could always text me when he figured out what he wanted.

“We have to get going,” Jimin was back beside me. “Y/N’s car is sitting at the dealership. It was good seeing everyone.”

I waved at the table and started walking away before Taehyung could touch me. He was definitely a hugger. Jimin was quick to catch up with me, giggling about my “escape.” It had started to snow again, gentle flurries twisting and turning in the wind, and I had forgotten my heavy jacket at home. The long sleeve I was wearing would do nothing to keep me warm.

“Here,” Jimin taking off his jacket. “You need this more than me.”

Draping it over my shoulders, Jimin told me to zip it up. Stunned, I moved on autopilot and shoved my arms through the sleeves. Everything smelled like him, oranges and spice, and his warmth was still clinging to the thick fleece. I could not remember the last time someone had given me their jacket. Dazed, I followed Jimin out to the parking lot, eyes locked on his back. He was in nothing but a thin, black and white striped shirt.

“Thanks,” I said once we were both in the truck, already shrugging out of the light beige jacket. “You didn’t have to do that.”

He held up a hand, “Keep it. The heater is out.”

I shook my head, “What about you?”

He reached into the back and held up a purple hoodie.

“I’ll be alright.”

I put the jacket back on and buckled in. Jimin slipped into the sweatshirt and started the truck. After buckling up, he backed out of the parking lot. I caught sight of the brunette as we left. She was red faced, shouting into her phone. I looked away. Whoever she was angry with was definitely getting an earful.

“Wonder what Tom did this time,” Jimin mumbled.

“Hm?”

“Tom’s Annie’s boyfriend,” He supplied. “They’re always arguing. Worse than Jungkook and Darcy, they break up every other week, but Tom and Annie are at each other's throats every other day.”

I grimaced, “Sounds like my friends. They finally called it quits last year, but they were insufferable.”

Jimin chuckled, “So, what’s Colorado like?”

I talked to him about Andrea and Seokjin first, how we met and how much I loved their daughter. Hoseok and I’s friendship got quite a few laughs out of him, but those quickly died off when I brought up Namjoon. I told him about the day we met and the coffee date that happened a few days later, and that seemed to brighten up the mood again. Namjoon stories were bittersweet but took up such a large chunk of my life it was impossible to gloss over.

“When’s the toxic couple coming up?” He joked.

“I’m getting there,” I replied.

Hoseok and Matilda had known one another longer than the rest of us. Growing up together, no one was surprised when they finally hooked up in high school. It was, however, short lived bliss. Matilda got caught up in the wrong crowd and began doing drugs. Hoseok had tried to help her get through it, but they could never see eye-to-eye. That started their toxic cycle of getting back together, Tilly going to rehab, her relapsing, and them falling out again. It was not until she went two years ago that it managed to stick, but their relationship was too tumultuous to make it very far. They decided to stay friends and she became a constant member in our group.

“That’s crazy,” Jimin shook his head. “Happy she’s doing better now.”

“Me too.”

The rest of the drive was spent talking about Colorado and how beautiful it was. He stayed away from swimming, mostly wanting to hear about the school I worked at and the places I went to in my free time. He kept me talking for the entire 45-minute car ride, question after question keeping me on my toes. He did not like talking about himself, whenever I tried to switch the conversation to his own interests he barely responded before going back to his interrogation. Before I knew it, we were pulled into the dealership and getting down.

“You can leave,” I told him.

“I want to make sure you’re good before I go,” He replied.

The cashier was lovely, her voice bubbly and sweet as she helped me out. Jimin lingered longer than he needed to, helping me fill out my paperwork and making small talk with the dealer. I took my keys and went for a quick test drive before I was finally able to convince Jimin to leave.

The drive back was quiet. I was used to the silence when I drove, but Jimin’s voice had been soothing. Frankly, I was a bit bored without him around. I decided to call Matila and ask about my medals. She apologized but I doubted how sincere she actually was. After catching up with her, hearing all about the guy she went on a date with, and a five-minute rant about Hoseok spending way too much money on Minho’s birthday present, I hung up before she could give me a migraine. As much as I liked Tilly, she was someone I had very little patience for and her voice, high pitched and loud, was like nails on a chalkboard.

I got back in town a little after 3. Violet and Calvin were both home and watching some black and white Western. Calvin offered to make me lunch, but I was quick to decline. I just wanted some space.

As soon as I got in my apartment, I curled up in bed to take a nap. I was overwhelmed after talking so much and desperately needed to recharge. I set an alarm for 5 so I could make it over to the Park house in time for dinner. Quickly sending a quick text to Hoseok, I turned on thunderstorm sounds and closed my eyes.

Na-Yeon and James were both excited to see me, talking about their days and asking how I was settling in. Eloise was there as well, the twins in the back room playing again. Jimin was going to be late. He had gone for a last-minute swim with Milo. When I asked them who that was, it was Eloise who answered.

“That’s Vincent’s fiancé.”

“Who?” I was even more confused.

“Taehyung,” Na-Yeon answered. “You know he hates that name as much as Jimin hates his, Lou."

Eloise blushed, her entire face turning a bright shade of red.

“Sorry,” She scratched behind her ear. Looking back at me, she sighed, “We went to school together. Old habit.”

Now V made sense. It never occurred to me that Jungkook and Taehyung could have their own American names, and neither one introduced themselves that way either. James came to take the seat beside mine, the dining table more crowded then was reasonably necessary.

“Does Jungkook have a second name?” I asked.

“Ian,” Eloise replied. “He goes by both, so I don’t think he cares as much as Tae and Jimin. I know his girlfriend uses both.”

I assumed that was Darcy. Why else would Taehyung assume she would go with us on a day trip to Detroit?

“They call him Ian on the team, too,” James chimed in. “His name is too hard.”

Namjoon never had an American name, at least, not one I had ever heard. The only person I could think of was Hoseok. A lot of his friends called him Jay, something about an old nickname from school, but that was it. Seokjin just went by Jin, Namjoon went by Joon, and Minho went by…well, Minho. None of their parents used American-Friendly names, and Seokjin’s father’s English was still poor even after living here for so long.

“Y/N,” Na-Yeon brought me back to the conversation. “What banchan do you like?”

“My eomeo-nim made these delicious, braised potatoes,” I answered, thinking back on our dinners together. “Kimchi, of course. My ex made the best braised lotus roots. They were always yummy.”

Na-Yeon seemed pleased by my answer. James and Eloise started rambling about their own favorites. Unlike Namjoon, Mr.Park was a big fan of seafood. He grew up in Busan near the Jagalchi Market, which, according to him, was the largest seafood market in South Korea. Eloise talked a little about her favorite Korean dishes before jumping into what she grew up eating. Her father was Scottish and her mother French, so one night she was eating Scottish Pie and daube niçoise the next. It was fun hearing more about Eloise. I would have never guessed she was a first generation American.

“It’s something Tony and I had in common,” She added. “He learned quite a bit of French before he died. Unfortunately, my Korean is taking much longer.”

“Mine isn’t that great either,” I admitted. “Namjoon’s family spoke English and never liked to make me feel awkward. I can follow a conversation fairly well, but only if you speak slowly.”

James laughed, “I will remember that.”

The front door opened, and I could hear loud talking. Eloise sighed. Whoever was with Jimin did not pass her inspection it would seem. She and James seemed to have a small conversation with their eyes. The men were still at the front of the house. Finally, Eloise looked away and scowled.

“Must have brought Milo and Tae over,” She muttered. “I’m going to go check on the twins.”

Eloise left the table. James told me to ignore her. She and Milo did not get along for whatever reason and she chose to ignore him. It was not my business, so I accepted that explanation.

I prepared myself for a bad interaction. So far, Eloise was such a quiet and sweet person I could not imagine anyone actively disliking her. Then again, this was Taehyung’s fiancé, and he was the nicest, most bubbly person I had ever met. It did not seem likely that he would hang around bad company. It could just be a case of personalities clashing.

“Annyeong,” Taehyung greeted us brightly, immediately finding me. “Babe, come say hi.”

A massive, pale man followed in behind him. Milo was a good-looking guy, bright blue eyes and dirty blonde hair, with a solid build. He reminded me of the male swimmers I worked with, his huge size and bulging muscles intimidating. His fashion sense was not as good as Taehyung’s. Ill-fitting black bottoms and a Rick and Morty t-shirt that made me want to roll my eyes. I was definitely biased, my loyalties already in Eloise’s corner. I did not need to know a backstory to be weary. The dude looked enough like Matthew Hamilton to make me dislike him just off principal.

“Milo, Y/N,” Taehyung introduced, gesturing between the two of us. Behind him, Jimin snuck into the kitchen and gave his mom a kiss on the cheek as a greeting. He looked nice in his gray tracksuit. “Y/N, this is my fiancé, Milo.”

I managed a disingenuous smile, “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” He replied. His voice was smokey.

“Where’s Lou?” Jimin asked, coming around to greet his father.

“Checking on Harper and Cam,” James told him.

There was not enough room for all of us to sit at the table and I ended up giving up my seat to Na-Yeon. Jimin helped her set the table while I was put in charge of gathering Eloise and the kids. Walking down the hallway, I found the kids’ playroom and knocked.

“Dinner’s ready,” I announced, poking my head inside.

The room was bigger than I thought it would be. Each side was decorated in stereotypical boy and girl colors, Cameron’s bed and wall art a wide variety of blues and teals with dinosaur decals on the walls, while Harper’s was a mix up of baby pink and white. Her bed had more stuffed animals on it than I could count and all of them seem well loved. Their toys split the room in half, a large, circle rug in the middle of it all. Most of the toys were thrown on the floor and Eloise was telling them it was time for them to clean it up.

The children looked so cute in their little matching outfits. Harper’s black hair was braided down her back and the ribbon tied at the end of it matched her cream-colored overalls. Cam’s hair was on the longer side as well, falling to his shoulders with a slight wave. His bright red converse stuck out against the rather plain outfit he was wearing, and I had to assume he put up a fight behind them. Harper started to sing the Barney song as they cleaned.

“Feeling, okay?” I asked their mother. She was sitting in the chair on Harper’s side. “You ran off pretty quickly.”

She shook her head, “It’s nothing. We’ve never gotten along.”

I raised an eyebrow, “Do you want to eat here? I’ll sit with you.”

She smiled, “We can play nice, don’t worry. Thanks, though. I appreciate you asking.”

Dinner was as uneventful as Eloise said it would be. She and Milo greeted one another and then acted as if the other did not exist. I stood up to eat, Taehyung, Milo, and Jimin with me while the others sat down. Cam was excited to talk about school and Harper rambled on and on about her imaginary friend Butter Squash. They were both very sweet and it made me miss Dani. The last time I saw her was when we went skating the weekend before I left.

Taehyung was as talkative as ever. His touches also become bolder. By the time I left, he had an arm around my shoulders and his body pressed against my side. Milo was unbothered by our closeness. He and Jimin spoke the most and again the guy I knew when no one else was around seemingly vanished. This one was too put together, too closed off, and no one, and I mean no one, seemed to care. Every time he laughed half-heartedly or nodded along with whatever Milo was talking about, I felt more confused. Why was he so hot and cold all of the time?

During my drive back home, I tentatively attempted to listen to the radio. I only lasted around a minute or so before I switched it off. I needed silence. The Parks were such a lovely family, but tonight was too much. Between unpacking and Taehyung, I was drained. Hoseok had asked me to call him when I got home but I was going to wait. If it was important enough, he would call me himself.

I fell asleep as soon as my face hit the pillow, my medication making it a dreamless night.

The rest of the week was quiet. I called my friends back home to check in Thursday morning and was happy about Hoseok’s progress. The kids were really liking him, and he thought he may have a permanent job for next year if I decided to keep working with Jimin. I told him not to get his hopes up.

Jimin and I spoke through text daily. He was still going about his normal routine while I brainstormed training and scheduling. By Saturday I was ready to start testing out different ideas. We both seemed eager to get started, actually. Sunday, like I expected, was very quiet. That was his mom’s day, so I tried not to bother him. Violet and Calvin kept me company.

The Andersons were nice people. Violet was always coming to the back and inviting me to join them for breakfast, and her husband enjoyed asking me about my life. Calvin was far more personable than his wife was, but they managed to balance one another out. Sunday evening was the first time I noticed Calvin’s memory issues. He had no idea who I was. I came inside and Violet had to tell him I was their daughter Nancy’s babysitter. He was under the assumption that she was still 10. I left them alone when Violet asked me to pick her up from school. She came out back a few hours later to thank me for going along with everything, and I made sure that she had my phone number in case she needed me to help out if things got out of hand.

It was still dark outside when I left Monday morning. Jimin and I agreed to meet up at 6 am to start our day, but I wanted to get to the gym early. Time to set up and get myself in the right headspace was important to me.

The location he had sent me was more remote than I had originally anticipated. Jimin owned the little gym. It had been a swim school in the past and the place he had first learned he loved the water. He and his mom went to classes together when he was young. The place had been too expensive for the previous owners to keep up with and they were planning on selling it, but Jimin bought it off of them and converted it into a public gym/pool.

In our text exchanges he called it his retirement plan, but I was sure the place meant more to him than that. He had no interest in it until after the cancer diagnosis. If I was to over analyze it, I would say he was trying to hold onto a happy memory. This was their place before sickness and death ran through his family. I would imagine anyone would want to keep something that held so much sentimental value if they could.

Pulling into the parking lot, I was first struck by two things. One, it was open and there were people inside, and two, it was huge. Most of the building was nothing but windows giving me a great view of the muscled men inside. Bright fluorescent lights made my sensitive eyes hurt, and I could hear the faint sound of music coming from somewhere near the gym. The small group of men were together, all of them lifting and spotting each other while talking, and a sense of dread filled my belly.

I was always anxious when I went to a new place, but a new gym was a nightmare. I had bad experiences in the past. Overly friendly creeps who liked to stand around and watch me while I worked out. None of the guys inside gave off bad vibes, but I was still in my car and none of them laid their eyes on me. A woman in a gym was like a drop of blood in water. I had to hope they were not sharks.

Gathering courage, I grabbed my duffle and made my way inside. A pretty, dark-skinned, young woman was sitting at the receptionist desk, and I felt more at ease. If they left her alone then maybe they would not cause me too much trouble either. The music was louder inside, and I recognized the Ciara song. It was a great one for cardio. Fighting the urge to dance, I greeted the receptionist. She put down her magazine and gave me an award-winning grin. She had a nice, dimpled smile.

“Hi there,” She had a thick, Southern accent and I could not tell you where she might be from. I was awful at telling them apart. “Do you have your membership card?”

I laughed nervously, my grip on my bag tightening. “No. I’m here to train with Jimin Park. He said I should have something on file.”

She nodded, her smile unwavering as she looked at her computer and asked for my name.

“Y/N Y/L/N,” I replied, foot tapping along to the Lil Wayne song that came on. I had this one on my own workout playlist back in 2008. I could not help mumbling the words under my breath, “She-she-she lick me like a lollipop.”

“Found you,” The girl grabbed a few sheets of paper from a pile on her side of the desk. “Just fill these out for me and we’ll get your card printed. Your fees have been paid already so no need to worry about that.”

I nodded, half listening. This song was great. Why has it been so long since I last heard it? I went to the gym all the time. I needed to put it back on my playlist. Honestly, the entire Carter III needed to find its way back into my rotation.

“My name’s Giselle if you need anything,” The receptionist pointed to a cluster of chairs right at the front entrance. “You’re super early so Christian isn’t here yet, but I’ll give you the key to the pool room so you can do whatever you need before the boss gets in.”

I smiled at her, “Thank you, Giselle.”

“Anytime, ma’am.”

It took me a few minutes to fill the paperwork out and scan my ID, but Giselle made everything as quick as she could. One of the men working out had come by to ask for some wipes to clean off a few of the machines but left without anything more than a ‘good morning’ thrown in my direction. When we passed by the rest of them on the way to the pool house, we were completely ignored, so it was safe for me to say that they would not be a problem for me in the future. Creeps were never subtle about their creepiness.

“I have to double check with Christian, but I think I’m supposed to give you a spare key,” Giselle said, unlocking the pool. “I’m just going to be sure before I promise you anything. Don’t want to get fired.”

I could tell she was joking. Jimin did not strike me as the type of guy to fire anyone over something like that. It only made sense for me to have a spare key since we would be coming around so much, and I would feel bad about disrupting the staff whenever I needed to get inside. They did not get paid enough to deal with that on top of all of the rest of their duties.

“We keep it locked until 9,” Giselle continued, leading the way inside. “Then we close it back up at 5. Maintenance comes in every Tuesday to treat the water, so you’ll have to be out of here no later than 7. Boss man knows this already so you shouldn’t have any problems with that.”

The pool room was very bland and bare bones. The smell of chlorine hung heavily in the air while the lights around the pool walls illuminated the dark room. It was very big, and I itched to go for a quick dip. The coolness of the water would be nice against my skin. I had grown hot with nerves and gotten a little sweaty.

“We have a few other staff members that will be in around the same time the boss man comes in,” Giselle continued to give me the rundown. “I’m sure he’ll introduce you to everyone just in case you need anything. I’d say make nice with Yoongi first. He’s our in-house massage therapist.”

Pointing to a door on the far-left wall, Giselle let me know that was the pool locker room and the door right next to it was a shortcut to the back offices. Management, marketing, and facility supervisors were usually all back there and I would more than likely never see them. They were not the most social people and worked from home a lot. I could tell by Giselle’s voice that she did not particularly care for management.

“Drew should be here by now,” She checked her smart watch. “She’s the general manager. I’m going to go and grab her and see about that key. She might come back to say ‘hi’ but don’t hold your breath.”

I chuckled, “That bad?”

Giselle rolled her eyes, “Drew’s fine, but Dominic is usually following her around everywhere and he’s annoying. You’ll get what I mean if you ever see them together.”

I laughed, “I’ve had my fair share of weirdos. Thanks again. I appreciate you showing me around.”

She beamed, “It wasn’t a problem. You gave me a reason to get up from the desk, so I’d say it’s a win.”

We spoke for a few more minutes until a very large, bulky man popped his head in looking for her. His black t-shirt clung to him tightly and his shorts were a hideous neon pink color. He did have a nice smile, one that took up most of his face and teeth so white they looked fake. Giselle introduced me very quickly, and the man, Sam, turned out to be one of the personal trainers on staff.

“You’re the Olympian, right?” Sam asked. Jimin must really like people who talked a lot, because I had never met more outgoing people in my life before moving here. Everyone he surrounded himself with was just full of energy, and I wondered if it was purposeful. Jimin himself was a rather quiet and sad person. “Jimin talks about you all the time.”

I laughed awkwardly, face heating, “That’s me.”

“Sick,” Suddenly an image of Sam surfing in California flashed through my mind. He just seemed like the type. “Well, I have to go and help out a client, but it was nice meeting you. Gigi, can you go back up front before Drew pitches a fit?”

Giselle sighed heavily, “Tell her I’m coming,” Looking at me she asked if I was okay on my own. “Come and get me if you need anything, okay?”

After assuring her that I was fine, Giselle left behind Sam. The two of them bickered like an old married couple, and I wondered about their relationship. He did call her a little nickname. I shook my head. Regardless, I had other things I needed to take care of before I could get lost in thought about two strangers.

Unpacking my duffle, I threw on my whistle and stopwatch before getting to work on my schedule. I had brought a lot of my personal swimming gear with me like training bands, coach communicator, and forearm fulcrum. Back in the day, I was the brand ambassador for Finis, so I had a lot of their products. The tracksuit I was wearing was from Speedo, and I had so much of their stuff for the same reason. Being a famous swimmer had its perks.

I had planned on doing a lot of drill and some short-burst efforts with Jimin. He had been without a PT for a few weeks now, and while I trusted him to stay in shape, it was no secret someone would be performing less on their own than with guidance. I did not want to over work him when he was, for all intents and purposes, been on a vacation. So, while I wanted to rush head-first into training, I would try to ease into things a bit before going full asshole on the kid. Like Victor would say, “Three times a week for three weeks.” After that, he was going to be at my mercy.

It was just past 6 when Jimin walked into the pool room. I was flipping through my training plan for the day and humming along to the music blasting through the speakers, echoing off the walls. Whoever was in charge of the playlist had a thing for the early 2000s.

“Morning,” His soft voice brought a smile to my face. He sounded tired. “What do you think about the place?”

Stealing a look at him, I had to hold back the gasp that I wanted to let out. He was wearing a black tank top and shorts giving me a great look at his skin. Embarrassed by my reaction, I internally scolded myself. I needed to get over this crush already. I was about to see a lot more of his body once he went to the back to change. I bit my lip. I had no idea how I was going to deal with him in a speedo.

“It’s very nice,” I was happy with how nonchalant I sounded. “Wasn’t expecting it to be so big.”

I wonder what else is big… I nibbled on the inside of my cheek. I really needed to get my mind out of the gutter. Scratch that- I should have dealt with this problem the second I realized it was there. I was going to force myself to call Hoseok today. He would know what to do, and if not, at least I could vent a little.

“Sleep okay?”

I jumped out of my ever-degrading thoughts.

“Yeah,” I sniffed. “Had fun with your mom? I wanted to give you two some space, so I stayed to myself.”

He smiled and I melted. Yeah, this needed to stop. I was too grown to be acting like this around a man.

“I appreciate it. We missed you at dinner, though. My dad kept complaining that things were quiet now.”

I chuckled, “Eloise and the kids not loud enough?”

He shook his head, “She didn’t come over.”

He tossed his sports bag next to mine and pulled out his swim gear. I caught a flash of his speedo and quickly looked away. The visuals going through my mind were distracting enough.

“Do you want to go over everything before I get changed?” Asked Jimin.

I shook my head, “No, go ahead. It’s going to be a chill day.”

“You got it, coach.”

I did not breathe until I heard the locker room door slam shut. Tossing my clipboard onto my bag, I roughly rubbed my face. I needed to pull myself together.

My attraction was easy to ignore and forget about when he was not in my face, but the second I got my eyes on him it was all I could focus on. I was awkward and fumbling all over the place whenever he was around. I focused on him far too much, far more than I should be due to our relationship, and it was driving me insane. I needed to take a breather, but I did not have enough time and I did not want to make him worried. Jimin seemed like the type of person who would become consumed by anxiety if he thought I was upset with him in any way. No, I would have to suck it up and get through this training session like an adult.

The locker room door opened. Jimin’s bare feet were loud against the gray, stone floor. I refused to look at him. I wasn’t ready yet. Bending over, I grabbed the clipboard and cleared my throat. I was hoping to get him in the water first, and then I could safely conduct myself in a professional way. The less skin I had to see at a time the better. I pointed at the pool.

“Like I said, it’s going to be an easy day,” He was walking away from me, and I felt the tightness in my chest lighten. “You’ve been without a trainer for a bit, and I’m not sure how intense your workouts have been since. Your warmup is just 10 minutes of easy swimming, and then we’ll go over our main set.”

I heard him get into the water with a splash and relaxed. I could handle him in the water. No one looked good with those stupid goggles on. I walked to the edge of the pool, clipboard in my hand, and stole a quick look.

As suspected, he did not look as potent like this. His hair was hidden beneath a red and white cap, and blue goggles obstructed most of his face. It was impossible to make out most of his body as he glided through the water, but I got a great look at his arms. He was more muscular than I gave him credit for. He was smaller and more lean than other swimmers, but I could see why he was able to dominate.

He was very fast, but I could already tell he was pushing harder than I wanted him to. Blowing my whistle, I let him know I only wanted him swimming at 80% effort. Jimin pulled a face and lifted his goggles up. Now that he was stagnant, I got a clear look at his chest and swallowed thickly. He needed to start moving or else I might have a heart attack.

“Why?” He was incredulous.

“Like I said, I don’t want you to overwork yourself. You’ve been on a vacation for four weeks now and we need to work our way back up to more intensive sets. It’ll only be for a couple of weeks.”

He pushed back again, “I’ve been coming here every day for hours. I think I’m fine.”

I shook my head, “I’m not trying to be a dick, and I’m not calling you a liar, but I am skeptical of the quality of the training.”

“But-”

“I haven’t been here to see your routine,” I cut him off before whatever smart ass comment he was planning to say could even come out. Jimin’s annoyance was plain as day, and I was not about to put up with a tantrum. “I’m known for being a hard ass, and I’m going to push you harder than you’ve ever been pushed before. You can ask Coach Bunch about me if you want. I will make sure you’re in the best shape of your life this year, but not at the expense of getting you injured.”

He took a deep breath before responding, “With all due respect, I’ve been putting in a lot of work by myself. I don’t think I need kid gloves.”

I smirked, cocking my head to the side. “Is that what you think this is?”

“Isn’t it?” He shrugged, pouting.

He was cute when he was mad.

“Humor me,” I replied. “We do things my way for the week and if I think you’re good to go by Friday then we’ll get back to normal training. How does that sound?”

Jimin thought for a moment before smiling at me.

“I can live with that.”

I chuckled, “Good to know. Now, put your goggles back on and finish your warmup. We’re wasting time arguing.”

As I suspected, once we started our drills, he did not perform up to the standards I had for him. Even at 75% what he was capable of, I could already see the areas he needed to work on. His butterflies were beautiful, but I could pick apart his breast and back strokes. I was happy with his free swim at the end, and I was going to start there the next session. I was hoping by starting off with compliments that we could become more comfortable with one another before I had to get serious. Those breast strokes would drive me insane until he could execute them perfectly every time.

“How am I doing?” Jimin asked during a cool down, doing a few laps before we started our drills again. “I know my breast strokes aren’t that great. I’ve always struggled with them.”

At least he was self-aware, I thought.

“We definitely have stuff to work on,” I replied. “Don’t worry too much about that right now. We can start talking about it more next week.”

He sighed, annoyed, and I laughed. He was very grumpy when it came to his swimming. Not wanting to upset him again, I decided to give him something.

“I would like to watch you swim a bit more and make a plan before giving you my opinion. My coach used to do that with me, and I found it helpful.”

We trained until eight-thirty, and I looked over my notes while Jimin cooled down. We did not talk as much as I would have liked, but it was probably for the best. His body was distracting, and I did not think I was doing a very good job at hiding my reactions to him. He did not seem to notice, or he was simply sparing my feelings, either way he was happy to keep relatively quiet. We only talked about training while he was in the water, and I was grateful he was maintaining his professionalism.

“When will we be back again?” Jimin asked, his last few minutes running down on the timer. “You said Wednesday, right?”

I nodded absentmindedly, in my own little world as I flipped through my notes. I had more than I thought I would have, all of them having to do with fixing his form and how we could go about it. New exercises, grueling training days, and a few new tools that I was not sure he had ever used before, would mold him into a swimmer I would glow with pride over. Park had always been a talented man, but I wanted to see if we could reach for something more. Something bigger and better than he could have imagined. I wanted to make Matthew fucking Hamilton look like the incompetent bastard I knew him to be.

“We’re done for the day,” I sighed, clicking the alarm off. “Do you want me to come for your night swim?”

Jimin ripped the goggles off, rubbing his eyes and already going to release his cap. I bit down on the inside of my mouth. He was so pretty and soft, and the way his muscles flexed as he swam to the edge of the pool made my stomach flutter. I looked away before he hoisted himself out of the water. I did not need that image floating around in my already depraved head.

“You can come if you want,” He replied casually. “I’m mostly hitting the gym when I’m here in the evenings. I only take a dip for thirty minutes and leave.”

I hummed, fighting the urge to look at his body. I focused instead on my breathing and writing down what he had just said. I did not want to forget that. It might be useful for me in the future. If we could exercise together, it would give me an opportunity to guide him through some of my favorite tricks to help with swimming.

“Will someone else be with you?”

“Probably Jungkook and Darcy. They’re my usual gym buddies when Milo is working.”

“Darcy’s his girlfriend, right?” I wanted to see if my hunch from the other night was right.

“Yeah. They’ve been going out for a couple of years now. She’s alright. Not as shy as you.”

I snorted, “You think I’m shy?”

Then I made a critical mistake. Looking over at Jimin, I nearly choked on my own spit. His skin was perfectly smooth, not a blemish in sight, and cream-colored. His body was just as pretty as his face, smooth abs and a tiny waist that led to toned and thick thighs. The tiny scrap of red fabric covering his private area did not stop my eyes from glancing. I looked away before I started to stare.

Hoseok was going to have a field day with this.

“I know you are,” He teased, his voice so soft and sweet. I briefly wondered what he would sound like in bed. I fought desperately to rid myself of that imagery. This could not be happening right now. “You’re so shy you can’t even look at me right now.”

His cocky attitude should have annoyed me, but instead it only further fueled my lust. Every time I had seen this man, he gave me such tonal whiplash it was beginning to drive me insane. First it was this innocent little angel facade that quickly became sarcastic and witty when he decided he could play around without me getting angry. Then it was the whole sad puppy thing he had going on for the last week. Now here he was, practically naked and getting riled up over me telling him what to do, and puffing his chest with confidence I never thought he was capable of. It would have pissed me off if I did not find him ridiculously attractive.

“Go get dressed, Park,” My voice was clipped and too harsh. I winced and quickly worked to soften the blow. Getting defensive only made me look worse. “We can get breakfast if you’re not busy. My treat.”

“Sure, coach.”

When I heard the locker room close, I let out a deep sigh. My sexual frustration was getting in the way of my work, and I hated it. Pulling my phone from my back pocket, I sent Hoseok a text.

Me: I think I’m crushing on Park

Me: Help me get rid of it

The reply did not come until I was done packing up my things. The workout stuff I had brought with me had been useless today, but I was afraid of forgetting where they were the next time I might need them, so they never left the bag. My phone vibrated just as I was done zipping up my bag. I could hear the shower in the locker room and clenched my thighs together. I was still thinking of how pretty his belly was, the tattoo on his ribs pitch-black against his pale skin, and how solid his calves looked. I unlocked my phone and nearly cried laughing when I saw the response.

Hobi: HAHAHAHA

Hobi: Sex is always the answer

Hobi: Never thought I’d see the day you became a cougar

I have no idea why I thought he would be any help. So, I licked my wounds and messaged Andy (like I should have done in the first place) and knew whatever she had to say would be far more helpful than my stupid best friend’s word of “advice.” I just had to hope it would be enough to make all of these feelings stop.

Taglist: @ownthesunshine @screamertannie @lovelytaes-blog @pernesianparapio @tae-with-some-suga

© chimcess, 2024. Do not copy or repost without permission.

[kiss-me-muchoo]

𝐒𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐬 || 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐎'𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

part one: hurt me, it's okay || part two

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲_Turns out that you were originally from the earth Miguel collapsed, you just replaced your body, because you were the spider woman from there. Now you have to deal with the revelation, seeing Miguel with another woman and discovering more lies from the Spider Society. 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬_MEGA canon divergence, plot twist, asshole!Miguel, angst to the max, miscommunication, happy ending. 𝐀/𝐍_do u see the reference? "So many signs?"... It's exile. Recommendations in order: Where do we go now?, Look what you made me do and exile (all in my playlist).

♪ ♫ My Miguel O'Hara playlist ✰ Index (+ fics here)

….

One morning, you questioned everything.

Why did you become a spider without the same characteristics as others?

Why did you have to be a danger to everyone?

Why couldn't Miguel trust you enough to stay?

And of course... Why did you have to fall in love with him?

You could be in any dimension, with no glitches.

You could learn to control the cosmic abilities you were developing.

But in the end, nobody had trusted you. Not even a warning sign.

Out of them all. Miguel never said anything, he always made you believe you were special. And kick you out at the last instance.

That's why it hurt so much. That's why every morning you questioned everything. That's why you had the impulse to be something.

To soothe the resentment, the sting in the heart, and the enormous amount of stubbornness you had been carrying for months.

The temporary block you made to your earth would end sooner or later, and although there was no reason for any of the spider society members to come, you weren't ready to be found vulnerable.

"Hija. I'm going to the market. Do you want something?" Your mom asked through the door.

"What do you want me to cook today?" You ask, smiling. Already changed and am ready to take the trolley to go to classes.

"You don't have to cook, mi niña" again, you smile. Grabbing your bag and shoes in your hands.

"I always cook. Grab whatever you want and I'll come up with something" She nodded, kissing your head and letting you walk away.

On the way, with a single move from your hand, you lifted your books and finally, you left home.

Every day, you felt less like a spider and more like a witch. ...

It was confusing and annoying how at the end of the summer you lounged for autumn and winter, and then in late spring you were eager to savour summer again.

Your skirt is a grey, black top with mid-length sleeves, long black boots, and a vintage bag.

The trip on the trolley was always pleasant. The line was full of students, unlike other lines that were full of violent homelessness.

Looking out the window, you see the tall palms, and freeways that cross with others, and when your phone buzzes, you turn your head only to scream.

You apologize to the other passengers with a shy smile and then turn again to the seat in front of you.

The small figure of Lyla is there. The annoying yet friendly AI.

"Hi!" She greets happily. Her silly heart-shaped glasses are pink now. Her coat is cream-coloured now, and her hair looks slightly caramelish.

You stood quiet, unable to reply to anything. Anything, it just doesn't come out. Unlike your little head, it's already burning.

Why is she here?

Did Miguel send her?

"I told you to wait till the wagon was empty" Peter came out of a portal. When you looked around, the wagon was empty.

What actually impressed you, was the baby attached to his chest.

She was the cutest baby you had ever seen.

However, beside your face showing confusion and irritation, you stood quiet again. "Hello y/n," Peter said, offering you an awkward smile as the baby cooed.

He took a seat in front of you. And Lyla floated around the baby.

"We counted the days till we could come to your earth again" Lyla noticed the shade of your eyes darker, and immediately she worried. The necessity to drag you back to the HQ to make up with Miguel growing immeasurably.

"Please say something..." Peter urged.

"You had a baby?" Was the first thing that popped into your head?

"Yes. She's Mayday Parker" You smile at the baby.

"So you fixed things with MJ..." he nods. But you think about another lie. Or maybe not a lie. But now you realize Peter hid his upcoming parenthood from you.

"And you hide that from me too" Peter sighs, holding his kid's tiny hand. "Only Miguel knew at the time..."

His name was enough to make you feel like your heart was sunk into gasoline and then thrown on fire.

"Miguel... of course" you whisper with anger. The venom is evident to everyone.

"You need to talk to him. It's important..." the AI reveals.

"I KNEW IT!" You yell, exasperated.

"You just ran without hearing what happened. It's all a misunderstanding. We are uneasy about this, we need you, and what you did just created more chaos than-"

"Am I the villain know?" You ask interrupting the man. He stands quiet. Lyla pinches the bridge of her nose.

"Tell me, Peter... Or you Lyla. Does the rest of the Spider Society know what happened?" It was causing you more anger than sadness to you. The more you caught on them, the more you discovered painful stuff.

Silence.

The gizmo of Peter beeped. He placed his wrist in front of him, the image of Miguel appearing. At the moment, you felt emotionally constipated.

He looked great. Unlike you...

"Peter, Can you hear me?" He asked. You noticed he wasn't wearing his suit. "Yeah..." your ex-friend replies.

"I don't know where you took Lyla, but I need her in my office in an hour. I'm going out with Dana..."

Dana?

While Miguel could not see you or anyone. You could see him and a little of his surroundings.

A woman with beautiful caramel hair and bright eyes called him. She seemed adorable, with a gorgeous skinny body and a lab coat covering her yellow dress.

Peter's eyes went wide. He cut the connection immediately and looked worriedly at you. "It's not what you think. She's just a lab partner in Alchemax..." Lyla started for him. "You need to talk to him. It's very important and-"

"No." You answer with a voice and face full of pride.

"No?" Peter asks goofily.

"I'm not doing this now, nor today, nor tomorrow... maybe never" Hurrying to leave, you waited for the train to stop at the doors.

"Take care, Peter. That baby suits you well..." you explain emotionally before waiting for the doors of the wagon to open.

Lyla turned to look at the man.

"Should we go and make it like Hobie said?" Mayday giggled.

"Yeah. Hobie's way will work"

As soon as the doors opened and you made your first move, you fell into a portal.

Well, you were about to fall into a portal...

Because you closed it skillfully with your hands, innocently stepping over it. You turn to look at Peter and Lyla, dead serious face.

"Slowly, I could become the villain" you simply say, and Lyla finally panicked when she saw your eyes glowing iridescent with green, blue, and silver sparkles.

Without another glance, you kept walking through the station, soon disappearing, mixing with the crowd.

"This is bad. We need to go back with Miguel" the AI said. Peter sighed, rubbing the tiny little hands of his daughter.

"Not everything is lost, Lyla..." Peter liked to believe you would agree to meet Miguel again, that he would explain everything and life would secure you two together.

"There's some new things I have to tell you," she said. Knowing it would hurt Miguel. But probably it would make him go to you.

The waters were literally changing. Unfortunately, not for the best. ...

That night, you stepped out of the shower blindly. Because of the river of tears you had made over the afternoon.

They didn't explain the situation, they let the whole HQ believe you just caused a drama. Peter hid his baby from you. And Miguel had a new lover. He seemed great, he moved on. Maybe he only wanted to talk to you because of the potent danger you were. And at least he was decent enough to send his employees and not disappoint you in person.

Nah... Why disappoint you? While a part of you wanted him to beg you on his knees. The other was full of rage and proud to make everyone believe you were fine and you didn't care.

But you did care. No wonder your chest hurt and your eyes were swollen. Your wet hair dampens the pillow along with your tears. Your body curls into a little ball that it would feel as nice as comfort.

Because for some reason, you couldn't tell your family.

You scream and weep against the wet pillow. Letting all the anger and sadness consume you.

And through the pain, you realize maybe you weren't meant to do anything. You're an accident. And there's no point in being a hero. Nor a villain.

Just the comfort to save your broken heart and shattered soul. And whatever you had to do to protect it, would be fine.

...

A figure that was once a man moved across in your closed eyes. The black void everyone sees is now invaded by a man. Every inch of his deformed figure was white as the snow, but it was disturbingly covered in black holes. The biggest and roundest black spot was what was once his face. He seemed to be elevating the spots emanating dark auras.

Suddenly the dark void behind the figure changed. Your unconscious state creates a disastrous scenario. New York. With piles of dead spider people at the feet of the deformed man. Your heart started beating faster. Finally, realize you were scared.

It was a dream. You're in your bed.

It had been four weeks since your encounter with Peter and Lyla. And his baby... The panic slowly melted. Making you overthink it all over.

The figure scared you in your sleep. You woke up gasping for air.

Your room is dark, it's a little past 3:00 a.m.

It wasn't a dream. It was a premonition. ...

You barely used your suit. You barely balanced through the city with your webs. You stopped being a hero for Los Angeles. Slowly becoming a vigilante. You cried a lot, avoided your family, and took at least an hour every night to practice your new abilities.

Miguel knew that. Miguel knew everything.

He knew he shouldn't be spying on you. He should collect the guts to open your window and explain everything to you. He should reveal once and for all that he was your canon event, that he loved you and missed you. That the only reason he thought about sending you home was because he didn't know yet. That he hated seeing you cry every day and that he never felt so attached to any woman.

But most days he followed like a ghost, far from your smart eye. He paid a visit to you on campus, at the mall, library, and at home.

When your family was present, he remembered the night you invited him to dinner. Your mother is so sweet, your father eyeing him but finally relaxing. And your grandmother, it reminded him of his family.

So he ached to have you even more.

It's not what you think. She's just a lab partner in Alchemax...Peter had said.

But Miguel looked over and over to replay how your face changed as soon as you saw him in Peter's gizmo.

Soon Miguel theorised you thought the worst. That he was dating another woman.

While Dana could have been a potential interest asset for him, the truth is that Miguel never matched her toxic traits. This is why he preferred her friendship, and now that she was moved from the station again, he re-affirmed it.

But it wasn't enough. Not when he hadn't seen you in person in months. Not when the last time you exchanged words with him didn't end well. Not when he had to tell you he was your destiny and that he genuinely loved you.

And to add to his frustration, Spider-lego had alerted him of a new anomaly. Looking at Gwen and Jess in front of him, he sighed.

"Please. I'll be quick and quiet. I just want to see him, I don't even have to say hi to him" Miguel wanted to yell at the blonde girl. But soon he remembered that she had suffered not long ago, and only thanks to Jess, she was stable.

"Miles is THE original anomaly. You had contact with him in the past. It's already dangerous enough-" he started lecturing.

"If y/n was here, she would have backed me up" Jess whistled quietly. The pregnant woman knew you were a delicate subject. She also knew you had limited time to get back with Miguel. Or else, the canon would be disturbed.

Even worse with the information only Lyla knew.

"But she's not here," Miguel concluded, making it visible how delicate you were to him.

"I propose, you can go, see your friend FAR from him, and come back with the anomaly" Jess decided to suggest something. Miguel huffed annoyed.

"Thanks, thanks, thanks, Jess!" The blonde spider was so happy and not even Miguel decided to interfere with her happiness.

"I'll be fast, I promise" With that, she left to earth 1610. Also your home... "You let her go, you keep an eye on her" Jess nodded.

Both turned around to go to the briefing room and start new missions, but like an ice bucket, surprise and shock assaulted them.

You were walking across the long hallway.

You were literally there. Wearing a black dress with red tights and heel boots. Dark purple decorated your lips and your hair was on your usual ponytail back when Miguel met you.

You looked gorgeous. Better than all the times Miguel looked at you before. "I-, y/n? What are you doing here?" Jess asked in shock.

You kept walking. Every spider you passed by, looked with shock and curiosity. But the aura you charged felt heavy.

Miguel couldn't help but blush. You were feet away from him, looking strong and certainly indifferent about him. Just by looking at your new image, the eagerness to have you back on his side grew bigger.

"The Spot is a big danger. That's why I came" you announce when you're finally in front of the pregnant woman and Miguel.

You tried avoiding looking at Jess and her round belly. Another sting pulsated when you realized how much you had missed.

And again, facing that mask again. Miguel's full suit was something that would always intimidate you. Since the first moment Gwen, Hobie, and Peter introduced you two, it had been the same.

"The Spot? How do you know him?" You huffed at the woman's question.

"I've been doing irregular stuff..." Miguel knew what you meant. Even when he was getting lost in your small height and gorgeous eyes, Miguel remembered what you'd been doing. Witchcraft...

"It's been some time since... the last time"

"I'm not here to talk about the past, Jessica." Your answer surprised her. For Miguel, he was expecting the worst to be honest. He couldn't describe what you were feeling. And it was making him anxious.

"I saw him while I was sleeping. It wasn't a regular dream. Lascarred, I've been scar- surprised by weird visions and more" Miguel worried. He supposed you were about to say scared. And he hated not being able to be there for you. It was a lot, in a short time.

"The Spot is more than a regular anomaly. He's going to make a disaster. I saw... piles of spider people dead in New York" The pair of adults exchanged looks. They believed you. But they were unsure about what to do.

"It's gonna get out of hand. And even after all... I thought both of you needed to know" Jessica blushed after remembering the embarrassment she felt when you called her and everyone else a bunch of liars. The venom in your eyes and voice was evident, making everything heavier.

"I can sense he was a normal civilian before. He has a lot of rage, regret, and hate inside. Be careful, and think twice before acting" It was a double entendre, where you wanted to give them an indirect hint about what they did to you before.

They stand quiet. The background noise never stopped, a lot of spiders talked on their way to the cafeteria. The sound of doors opening and closing as well as portals. The world keeps spinning on Earth 928, but to Miguel, time is frozen.

Until you turned around and just how you came in, you were leaving.

Miguel felt Jess nudging him. So he went straight to you. Hoping to stop you. This was his chance...

"Wait..." he called. You didn't face him, but you stopped walking.

"I'm begging you, y/n. Please let me explain everything" It caught you off guard. But you really wanted to listen to him. However, at that precise moment, more than feeling angry, you felt scared.

Probably it would be better to open up a little. For the last time.

"My feelings are changing, Miguel. I don't even know what I want or how I feel anymore..." you said over your shoulder.

And again, you're leaving.

But you won't go this time. He's making sure you listen.

"I'm sorry, y/n. But you'll listen this time..." his hands suddenly grab you by the hips. And in a second, you're thrown into his shoulder.

"Miguel. Put me down!" Jess can't help but chuckle. She highly hopes you listen.

For everyone, more than keeping canon intact, they wanted to see Miguel happy, and have you back.

"This is such a caveman act. I'm gonna harm you" he knew you wouldn't.

More looks are drawn to you and the man. You only see the floor of the HQ. And the more he walks with you on his shoulder, the more you try to ignore his grip on you.

His right hand still holds your hips, and his wide arm secures your dress to avoid being hiked and leaving you exposed. He cared, even with tiny details, he cared.

Finally, he enters his office. And closes the door.

He doesn't put you down though. Until he gently placed you on his chair.

His wide back facing you, and you crossed your arms annoyed.

"Can you start talking?" Your nervousness was so evident and it made Miguel feel more relaxed. Because that meant he wasn't the only one panicking.

"I'm in your canon events. And you're in mine..." your eyes are wide open. He finally turns around to look at you. Your silence is enough to let him know you're shocked.

"The only reason why I wanted to send you home, is because I believed that would be better for us. I thought my...I thought my love for you was dangerous" he always expects eye contact when talking. He's meticulous enough to know when he imposes respect. But for you, he pleads for you to look him in the eyes. He needs to hear you might forgive him.

"I learned about us and canon right when you left the HQ. If you had just waited a minute to leave. If I had waited to tell you. Everything... might have turned differently"

Like peace invading your body, you want to jump straight into his arms and smooch him. He wasn't lying, he was a man of word. But you also weren't ready to forgive him at all.

"You still lied to me. You and everyone I considered my friends. Everyone considered me a danger. And... You said I was special, you made me feel like..."

"I'm in love with you. Since the day you invited me to dinner with your family. That day I fell in love with you" tears form in your eyes, remembering the day you two connected like never. That night you went to bed with giant butterflies in your stomach. And knowing that day he felt that way too...

"That's the truth. And the only lie I ever said to you, is that I didn't love you, that everything was a lie" There's a pout on your face, and you don't know what to do.

“What about the woman?” Miguel frowned confused.

“The woman Peter told me about not to worry” you explain embarrassed.

“Dana. As a young adult, I saw her as a potential partner. But… it never became anything. Now… she’s not even an option. I have no other options… Just you”

"I-..." a beep. You can't say anything else. You only open your mouth to say nothing. You were about to say that you forgive him.

"Miguel. Gwen let The Spot away. Pavitr earth is colliding because of Miles, I'm already here..." Jess spoke.

Miguel sighed heavily. Pushing his hair back in place. He reaches for his gizmo to answer her.

"Bring everyone here. Now..." he remarked to everyone louder, you also sighed.

The stress, panic, anxiety, anger, and sadness were edging him.

"Miguel..." you called, barely reaching his shoulder due to the height difference. His shoulders relaxed, and he enjoyed the touch.

"Please. Tell me you won't leave this time. Tell me you'll give me a second chance" he sounded so tired. And you decided to try. You could try to forget everything and begin a new chapter with him.

"I promise you I'll try, Miguel. This time I'll try to understand" he nods, and he hopes you take the hand he's offering.

You do, you intertwine your fingers with him.

"I need you..." he says, again sounding stressed.

With his dark past and the circumstances he was in when you met him, seeing Miguel in a vulnerable state of honesty was a lot to process.

"We still need to talk about a lot of things. But I'm here, Miguel" Maybe it was your prescience that calmed him enough to not yell and lose his mind at first sight.

Something in the back of your head was whispering to you that it wasn't over. That there was more to unveil. But you believed Miguel. The fact that he was honest and open to talk about his feelings was enough to make you see how real he was at that moment.

It was the peace before the storm. ...

The eyes of Gwen, Peter, Noir, and more spiders on you were unsettling you. But you were feeling terribly bad about Miles Morales and the issue with his dad. Miguel was trying to calm him. But slowly, you could feel he was losing his temper once again.

"You've been quite a mystery to everyone here" Hobie whispered. You glanced at him. "I'm pretty sure you're the only one I've missed," he smiles briefly.

"You may still want to leave. But even destiny wants you with that beastly man"

He sure looks beastly. But he had made you feel special, he tried to push you away for your security. And now he has begged you to stay with him.

You follow Lyla when he opens the millions of webs from the Arachno-Poly-Humanoid. Miguel explains to Miles, but you start searching for your own web.

Like the red string many believed in. The red string attached two persons together. You found your web.

And it was true, your web was attached to Miguel's. The last canon event showed you and Miguel together. But as you watched closer, you started seeing your past.

You were a spider woman, but it wasn't true. You became a spider woman at a much older age. You were a scientist working on Alchemax and surprisingly, you were dating Miguel. You then found he died, and you wanted to bring him back to life. You contacted Doctor Strange from that earth, and he warned you about a collapse coming. So he made a ritual to save you. He made you take a variant of yourself. The y/n of Earth 1610 who was a witch.

"Lyla. What's this?" You ask her highly confused. Miguel stopped talking to Miles and turned to see you.

When he walked closer, he saw it. Looking as much as confused as you were. "Oh!-, uh-..."

"Lyla. What's his?" Miguel pushed further.

The AI sighed.

"Miguel...In reality, y/n was a citizen from the earth you collapsed. She was the spider woman from that earth, and she was the couple of your variant that died" The man felt like he couldn't breathe.

"She made a deal with Strange to get your variant back. But the wizard knew it was impossible due to the collapse happening. So he sent y/n to take her variant's body on Earth 1610. The real y/n from Earth 1610 died on the collapse. During the process, you must've forgotten a lot of things. The body you took, was the body of a witch. That's why you started developing some weird activities for a spider. You were not bitten between portals"

It was too much. You don't know how to feel.

"See. She's proof that canon isn't accurate. Send me home!" Miles argued.

"Kid..." Peter tried to calm him. But you weren't listening, you just started panicking more than ever.

Miguel saw you and reached you.

"I'm sorry. It's too much" you barely say to him, feeling your eyes water once again. "Calm down. It's okay, y/n"

"I can't do this. And that kid can't suffer, Miguel" you say, catching everyone's attention.

"You know I can't let him go" Without a warning, he traps Miles. And another wave of arguments explodes between your ex-friends.

"Maybe y/n is right" Gwen admits, but soon is ignored.

At the same time, you looked at Hobie telling Miles to break out. So you know what's about to happen; Miles would break the barrier.

You run behind him before anyone can notice and Jess is able to hold your forearm for some seconds. But it's not enough.

"Don't do this, y/n" Gwen yells. And it angers you.

"You know this isn't right. Don't make the kid go through what I did" Like a parallelism, Miles was told lies, and he felt betrayed like you once did.

Everyone is talking. Peter tries to calm Miles, Hobie, and Jess making comments. Miles looks scared at you and Hobie. So you point at him.

Hobie reminds the kid to use his palms. And then he smiles at you.

"Whatever happens. Do what you believe is right." Hobie changed his mind. Even if canon was supposed to want you with Miguel, you would not make anyone else suffer.

"You'll visit me?" Hobie nodded, making you smile.

But then a bright flash blinded everyone, and then the silence was killing everyone.

Miguel sees you looking at him. An apologetic and sad look, before you start running after Miles.

Not this time, not again, Miguel thinks.

"MILES!, Y/N!" He shouts, going straight to you and the kid. Because he's aware you'll try to save the kid from every spider. He knows you believe in canon changing instead of being accurate. But he won't risk anything. He won't risk losing you like it happened with his family.

He knows you're fast, but that day you surprised him.

How you easily get rid of the tons of webs shooting at you? All while you apologize because they were your workmates.

Most of the spiders go after Miles, making it easier for you to break a glass and fall to the void of the sky in Earth 928.

And when his bright web caught your waist, you were terrified. Your watered eyes collide with his. Regret invaded him. He had done a lot, but he wanted you to hold tight and listen.

But your face gave him enough to feel sad and angry. He blamed Miles if he hadn't done another canon intervention. You would stay longer to listen to him and officially forgive him.

"I'm sorry, Miguel"

So you made his web disappear with your magic. Making you fall faster, away from him. Breaking his heart.

...

"NO. MOM!. YOU CAN'T LEAVE ME LIKE THAT" You rolled your eyes, hugging the girl beside you tighter.

"So dad chased you?"

"Yeah. Have you heard Uncle Peter say someone is going Miguel mode?" Gabi giggles and nods.

"He went crazy?"

"Yes. A lot I would say. I convinced him to help Miles and slowly, we got together again"

"Not so slow, you had me within months of being back together" you blushed.

"What? Who told you that?"

"Dad. He said you loved him so much that you let me grow inside you the day he asked you out" You were gonna kick Miguel.

"Oh, yes... We decided to have you too soon. But it took longer to move in together, get married." You explain to the five-year-old girl"

"And now there's another baby inside you" Gabi points at your round belly.

You sigh, nodding. Of course, Miguel had to get you pregnant right after funding a new base for the Spider Society.

"Yes. Your baby brother will arrive soon"

"What are you talking about?" Miguel appeared in the frame of the living room.

"Mom was telling me how you chased her to tell her that you loved her" Gabi answered happily.

"I still love her, Gabi. Y mucho..." You smile at him.

When Gabriella was born and she started the toddler phase, Miguel and you realized she was the exact same copy of Gabriella he had in the earth that collapsed. Still shocked you, but she was your baby girl. Obviously a daddy's girl.

"That was a dark day, though," you added. Miguel got closer to help you stand up. Your belly poking his tight chest.

"Can we focus on the present? We got over that." He was right. "Okay. Can I have a kiss?' You ask innocently.

"Just because you're pregnant" Gabi pretended to be puking and left the living room making you laugh.

"And it's your fault!" After years of being together, you got used to Miguel and his cheeky side.

"No. It's your fault and that stupid new suit you wore at the inauguration" You smirked. Your new suit always delayed missions and patrols. Because your silly husband couldn't resist the temptation.

"I take the guilt. Now... Are you ready?" The plan was to go eating and have a little walk on the beach.

"I'm still waiting for my kiss" he rolled his eyes and grabbed you by your hips, making you giggle as he passionately kissed you.

"Te amo un montón, muñeca" you smile, kissing his nose as he chuckles.

"Yo también, corazón" In the middle of a new round of kisses, Gabi came back.

"Ugh, enserio?. You're still kissing?" Both you and your husband laughed before leaving with Gabi.

__________________________________________ Taglist: @justleavemealoneyeah @nishinoyahhh @perfectprofessorloverapricot @liz96893 @deputy-videogamer @legbouk @oxrchd @cas-planet @gabbym-dizzy @avxntxrine @karleequinn @sunshinesetsstuff @aurabambi @mymommmy @billaboon @brittney69 @liz96893 @ariparri

I’m so excited to write my Halloween and día de muertos fics 4 Miguel (u Can notice it by the way I inconsistently wrote this) so tell me if you want to be tagged🩷

[weaveandwood]

Hey bestie!

Here is one of my favourite songs for your writing prompt!

Love ya <3

Thank you bestie! This song is perfect for these two! Summary: Gale and Auroria get engaged Pairing: Gale/Named Tav (Auroria) Word Count: 1127 Warnings: None (Fluff and Romance ahead) AN: This is probably one of the sweetest things I've written. This is a expansion of two sentences from my fic Midwinter In Waterdeep, but you're fine if you haven't read it.

Sunlight streamed in through the gap in Auroria’s tent, signaling the start of another day. If she was counting correctly, it was almost spring. The frigid nights of winter were staying further and further behind her with each sunrise, and with that, so was Gale. It had been five tendays since he had surprised her with a cabin in the woods on Midwinter and voiced his devotion to her. Five tendays since she was finally able to accept it. 

The sun glinted off the small band of silver on her finger, the symbol of his love for her that he had returned to her that night. The ring was her constant companion, never finding itself forgotten ever since. Though if she was being honest with herself, it was never forgotten. The ring and everything it symbolized ran through her head constantly in the year they were apart, and the many years since reconnecting on their too-short nights each Midwinter. He had never forgotten it either, confessing to her that he had only stowed it away in a drawer two tendays before their fateful meeting on that very first snowy evening. 

The crackle of magic and her favorite voice ran through her head as she pulled on her armor, preparing for the day’s events.

“Good morning my love. Please keep safe, I miss you more than you know. I love you.”

“I love you. I have a big day, we are striking this morning. Go easy on your students today, Professor,” she replied through her sending stone. Gale always got worked up when he knew she would be battling, and his students were the ones who suffered - the amount of pop quizzes he gave over the last year had set a record at Blackstaff. 

“Ready, Auroria?” came a voice from outside her tent. It wasn’t the same as before. Nothing ever would be, but it was nice to have a party for this hunt. She finished lacing her boots and grabbed her bow and arrows. Time to finish this and go home, at least for a little while. She smiled to herself at the thought. Home. She had been all over this continent, and longed for her tiny cabin deep in the woods outside of Waterdeep. 

******

Auroria heard him before she saw him - some things would never change, even after all this time. As she watched from the window in the living room, she couldn’t help laughing to herself as she saw a very worried, very handsome wizard rush down the path to their cabin and seemingly find every brittle twig that existed in this forest to snap with his steps. Maybe she would offer yet again to help with being a little more stealthy in his movements, though she knew he would decline. “Wizards aren’t meant to be stealthy” was always his reasoning. She always assumed it was because of his creaky knees. 

She opened the door and, after a second of utter shock, his expression became one that could only be described as incandescently in love as she pulled him inside and kissed him deeply. He led her to the bedroom, a trail of discarded clothing following them as they reunited.

That night he cast dancing lights as they lay in bed. She ran her fingers through his hair and watched his elegant fingers effortlessly perform the spell movements and then manipulate it easily, making the small lights float around and illuminate both the room and its occupants in a calming, pale blue glow - not the purple he used to favor before. He made the lights twirl around Auroria’s outstretched free arm, then rest near her head to become a crown of light, and finally form the shape of a heart - delighting her and making her laugh with each new trick. 

How different they were from the day she pulled him out of a portal. How different they were from the night he brought her the stars and she begged him to choose to live, to love. How different they were from the day she walked out the door of the tower, never believing she’d return to Waterdeep again. 

Something about the moment hit her with a stunning amount of clarity. 

He turned to face her, catching her staring at him and smiled softly. “What is going through that beautiful mind of yours, Ora?”

“Marry me, Gale.”

The dancing lights froze in place as his breath caught in his throat, his eyes darting back and forth between hers. She could only imagine the worst, that past hurts were playing through his mind. A scenario playing out much like it did shortly after their defeat of the Netherbrain, where they push each other away and hurt each other worse than any enemy, curse, or spell ever could. 

“Ever since I pulled you out of that portal, you have been the only one for me. It was like I was blind before I met you, living in a cloudy haze of chaos and death and solitude. The only time I feel any peace is when I am with you. We’ve only spent one day together over each of these last years, but…I need you. I love you,” she paused, feeling tears starting to form in her eyes. “Days and locations all blur together, but one thing has remained clear to me. You. Us. Even when I’m away, I want you to be my home. I want to be your home.”

She took a breath, letting out her biggest insecurity. “I know this is probably different than what you wanted, or planned, or dreamed about but -”

He pressed a hand to her cheek, the pad of his thumb brushing away a tear that had escaped confinement. 

“Ora, your face was the first face I saw when I got out of that portal. If anyone had been blind before, it was me. I was on a path of certain death, ready to accept it before meeting you, and you changed everything. You don’t have to convince me. I could see you only one day a year for the rest of my life and I would still be the luckiest man on the entire continent because you are my wife.”

She smiled, warm tears easily sliding down her face. His wife. 

“So…that’s a yes?”

He laughed. “Yes, my love. Let’s get married. This week, while you’re home. Greengrass is the perfect setting.”

“So quickly! I really think you like me,” she teased. 

“I really do,” he said, kissing her deeply. The dancing lights hovered above them as he pulled the covers back up over them, the two of them spending the rest of the night lost in each other’s love, the sound of laughter and pleasure echoing throughout the tiny cabin deep in the woods outside of Waterdeep.

[cadcreatesart]

I've been withholding her for long enough. This is Zaires new (aka current design)

Long design explanation under the cut:

The main problems I had with Zaire's old design were

the colors were lacking contrast

it was boring

If you've seen the illustration I drew with her old design you can tell that her entire being is just... muddled together. To combat this, I gave her much brighter clothing to contrast her dark skin and hair. I also chose one accent color, but that falls more into the 'boring' bit

Since Zaire is part of a story, I at some point will draw her a lot. So her design couldn't be too complicated. However, her old design was so simple that it was bland. Now, Zaire did have a sleeve that was open at the shoulders before, but I drew that once and then only put her in winter outfits after (which I still could've made more interesting, but nope) I picked that concept back up and exaggerated it, making enough space for her to have a quite big tatoo. That alone was still lacking in my opinion though, so I gave her a little heart-shaped chest window and cropped her shirt to make her show a little tummy.

I wanted to make her appear both friendly and confident, both traits that are definitely necessary if you own and run a café. Speaking of, that's also part of the reason why I added the headband. I wanted some contrast in her hair as well and a headband could keep her hair out of the way while she is working.

Now, her skirt is more an indulgence of mine, if anything. I love long skirts and I love to imagine her walking through the café with her skirt flowing around her. So I knew from the start I wasn't gonna give it up. To make the skirt more interesting, I gave it an underlayer of ruffles. At her hips, I put this little bag in which she keeps her little notepad for taking orders.

As for her shoes... I simply made them sneakers because I figured it's waaay more comfortable than boots or whatever kind of shoes I gave her before. (note: I know what I gave her, I just don't know what to call them. I simply know those kind of shoes would scratch up my heels every time I wore them)

But yeah, that's her, that's Zaire and eventually, when I got the rest of her group figured out design wise (and her brother and her bestie and... oh geez) you'll probably see her a lot more!

[illyrian-dreamer]

Frozen Flames (Part 1)

Lucien x Reader

Chapter summary: As you make your way through the Forbidden Forest of  Winter Court, you spot a familiar red-headed High Fae searching for a Solstice tree.

Series summary: After fifty years trapped Under the Mountain, you struggle to adjust to your new found freedom as Kallias’s third-in-charge to the Winter Court. 

In an unlikely circumstance, you meet Lucien Vanserra.

As you and Lucien grow closer, dealing with the loss of your mother and trauma from Amarantha’s reign proves harder than you thought. How will you start to trust and love again?

Ok here we go – Lucien series kicking off with Christmas/Solstice vibes because TISS THE SEASON BABY! 🎄

Shout out to @kennedy-brooke for inspiring this story! 💕

I hope you like this meet-cute for our new main character. More parts are being written – comment to join the tag list :) 🦊🍐❄️🔥

Warnings: Mentions of death, violence and trauma

Word count: 1,859

Part 1:

∇

The cold air filled your lungs before it hit your cheeks. It didn’t matter that the sun shone above you, it was two days before Solstice in Winter Court – the coldest time of year.

You brushed your hand against the tall pine trees, their scent bringing back memories of your mother. You longed for her presence, to hear her voice call you as your boots dragged through the trail of snow she left behind, just like when you were young. If you closed your eyes, you could almost hear her.

Your eyes shot open. What you heard were footsteps.

Your heart began to pound. It wasn’t a rationale response, but everything had changed since Amarantha’s rule. Instinct had you scaling the tallest tree you could find as you hid on a sturdy branch, drawing your arrow and aiming at the direction of the sound.

A short way down the path, you saw a flash of red. You squinted, trying to focus on the movement. Was it a fox?

A few moments later, you made out the shape of a male. He was High Fae, that you could tell. He wore an emerald coat with black boots and gloves, his bright hair half pulled back from his deep golden skin, the rest of it sprawling against his broad shoulders.

You recognised the male from Under the Mountain. You hadn’t known him during the fifty years you spent trapped there, but remembered his face during Feyre’s trials. You kept your weapon pulled, your eyes stalking him past your arrow as he walked closer towards your hiding spot.

He stopped close by, sizing up a small tree he faced, his back towards where you hid. The male then withdrew a blade from his coat. You pulled at your bow even tighter at the sight of the weapon.

He flexed his arm, pulling the weapon back, readying to swing at the tree. 

Anger flashed in you – how dare he harm the forest. He did not belong here.

“Stop!” you yelled, words escaping you before you could think twice.

The male stopped, spinning around as he searched for you. You could now see a russet eye that sat deep within a long scar whirling as he looked frantically. The eye spotted you before the rest of him, his face now one of shock. Your heart fluttered – you had forgotten how handsome he was.

“Who are you?” you demanded, aiming your arrow at him.

“Who are you?” the male countered, cocking an eyebrow.

You shot an arrow just before his feet. You didn’t want to harm him, but you were not playing games. He had clearly travelled from elsewhere, and you didn't appreciate the threat to your court.

The male didn't flinch, instead he stared at where the arrow stuck to the snow, before looking up at you and smirking. He let his blade drop to the ground, the silver piece sinking into the cold powder. He raised his hands in a calm surrender.

“My name is Lucien. I mean you no harm.”

Right.

“What are you doing here?”

Lucien raised an arm to the pine tree behind him. “I’m here to collect a tree for Solstice.”

You blinked in shock.

“So you travelled to the Forbidden Forest of my court to do so?”

“I heard there is the best crop.” 

You could have rolled your eyes. Tourists.

You huffed, letting go of the branch you perched on and making a graceful landing into the snow.

“There is. But it isn't yours for the taking.”

Lucien’s face was one of mild amusement as he took in the site of you. “And that is worth shooting an arrow for?”

“I would have shot earlier, but I thought you were a fox.”

Your comment was meant to upset him, but Lucien tilted his head back and laughed. “I have been described like that many times,” he admitted.

His demeanour was friendly, relaxed, but you were unconvinced he wasn’t a threat. You sized him up – should you need to escape. The male was a fair bit taller than you, and muscular beneath his coat. You wouldn’t have much chance to outrun him, but you did have your bow and arrow.

“And who might you be?” he asked, eyes boring into your own, the russet one finding its place. You shifted, uncomfortable at the intensity of his gaze.

You eyed his weapon, still sitting in the snow. He would only have to reach for it quickly…

Lucien caught your eye movement, letting out a soft sigh.

“I can assure you I mean no harm.”

“Except to that tree,” you countered.

“I wouldn't have taken you for a conservationist,” he grinned, nodding his head to you fur lined coat.

Prick, you thought, willing your face to stay neutral.

He smiled again, knowing he had landed his point. “Fine. To make amends, I will leave your trees unharmed.”

You pressed your lips and gave a small nod, acknowledging his surrender.

“If you won’t tell me your name, can you tell me what a female as beautiful as yourself is doing wondering this forest alone?”

You glared at his words that were clearly meant to disarm you. You breathed in, cold air filling your lungs. “I’m here to harvest pears.”

Picking pears the night before Winter Solstice Eve had been a tradition between you and your mother.

She would dress you in a heavy coat, wrapping you in knits that she had made as she carried you on her back. When you were old enough, you had been eager to shuffle through the ankle deep powder into the depths of the forest, your mother guiding the way.

In the midst of the thicket laid a charming orchard with rows of pear trees, the branches glistened with melting ice. It was a magical sight, and you would delight in playing in the soft snow while she gathered the fruit.

When you returned home, the smell of stewing pears with cinnamon and vanilla filled your home as your mother boiled and baked all kinds of tarts and jams. It was that smell of the holidays.

“Pears,” Lucien nodded, looking at you with curious amusement. “As in the fruit?”

“Yes,” you said tightly.

Lucien looked around, the rows of pine trees spreading tall and far amongst the blanket of snow. He looked back at you with a smirk, as if you were mad to think you’d find pears, and he was pitying you.

You rolled your eyes in frustration. “There’s a hidden orchard,” you explained.

“Ah.” Lucien raised his eyebrows, as if unconvinced. “May I come with you to this orchard?”

“Of course not.”

Lucien let out a soft chuckle while looking down, his bright hair falling in front of his face.

“So be it,” he waved his hand as he stepped around you, picking up his weapon and making back for the path. “It was a pleasure to meet you, beauty in the snow.”

You turned to watch him walk away, stunned by his wit and charm.

“There is a farm for Solstice trees only a few yards from the city centre,” you called to him, unsure of why you offered that information.

Lucien turned, a smile on his face. “I am grateful.” He gave a courteous bow of his head, something of a practiced High Fae. He made for the path again, and you watched him until you couldn't not see him past the thick of the forest.

What an odd encounter, you thought, making your way to your mothers’ orchard.

————

You had stealthily escaped the long corridors of the Winter Castle that morning to make the journey to the orchard. You didn't want to attract the attention of your cousin Kallias or his mate Vivian. While you loved them dearly, this was something you wanted to do in private.

The crisp air flushed your face you made your way through the thicket, your memory uncovering the path with each step. You took a cold, sharp breath in, savouring the way it cooled your lungs. That was one of many things you had missed Under the Mountain – fresh air. You hadn’t had a single breath of it in over fifty years before that human girl Feyre had set you all free.

You thought about her often. Kallias had told you that she now resided in the Night Court with Rhysand. Good for her. You hoped she was able to find happiness, as you were all trying to do.

You made quick work to gather the pears, your sack filled to the brim with glossy green fruit. You took a bite into one as you made your way back through the forest, savouring the juicy sweetness as another memory of your mother bought your hand up to soothe the ache in your chest.

This was your first time celebrating Solstice without her. She had sacrificed herself while trying to hide you when Amarantha’s army attacked.

You were still lived in the cottage with your mother at the time – but as cousin the High Lord of the Winter Court – Amarantha had sought you out. Fighting to protect you against the soldiers that burst into your home was the last thing your mother did, the sound of her scream before her neck was snapped still lived vividly in your mind.

So you had spent fifty years Under the Mountain with Kallias, keeping your head down and doing what it took to survive. You mourned your mother in silence, unwilling to let Amarantha delight in your heart break. Instead, you did your best to not draw attention to yourself. If she knew how broken you were, she’d toy with your sadness for fun, as you had seen her do to others. And if she knew you were a more than just Kallias’s cousin, and were a heavily trained archer, she’d use your skills for her own gain.

Since Amarantha’s fall, Kallias had taken you under his wing, and you found a new home at the Winter Castle, serving duties in his court. ‘Home’ was an understatement, the blue and silver castle stood tall and proud at the edge of the Winter Court village, it’s icy corridors panelled with large glass windows that looked out to the frosty mountains that bordered your court.

You pulled tighter on the heavy sack of pears you lugged on your back, keeping your head down as to go unnoticed as you walked through the village.  

You often had to remind yourself that you were free now – free to stroll the cozy shopfronts of the village, free to visit the bars and taverns and sip mulled wine, free to skate the frozen lake.

But you didn't want to do any of that. However, this tradition – the pear picking – that you would do in your mothers honour.

You finally made it back to your room in the castle, dropping the sack of fruit on your floor as a few of the fruit rolled out. 

As you peeled off your bow and arrow, you couldn't help but think of the red-headed male you had encountered in the forest, ignoring the part of you that hoped to see Lucien again soon.

————

Part 2 >>>

Tags: @jazmin2211​ @timecharm​ @itscaitymoore​

[tmwcs]

Reina I am so curious on what you look like lol. I think it’s because your work is brilliant and it make me wonder what the mastermind behind these legendary works look like.

😏 😼

Are you the anon that asked for the face reveal? Lol. I’ve been asked a handful of times for a face reveal, and maybe one of these days I might. I’d feel more inclined if this was a trend other writers were doing. But i am stumped as to how you guys are interested bc I am nowhere near as special as my creativity. This is to give you an idea….

Starting back in middle school, going all the way up to graduating from high school, my mom used me to display her level of strictness. This woman was not going to let me be a part of the cool girls club y’all, really. Winter time, it was either jeans (not skinny ones. She would buy me men’s jeans in the smallest size she could find) or long skirts that barely showed any ankle (I hated those long jeans skirts with a thousand buttons on the front but for some reason she’d always buy those ones. I didn’t mind the long flowy ones for summer though.) they were paired with long collars button up shirts with a sweater vest. My hair was always in a bun, sometimes a low poneytail.

Summer was either those flowy skirts that went down to my ankles or grandpa cargo shorts….needless to say I wore the flowy skirts often bc them grandpa cargo shorts were just brutal. I’m convinced she purposely did that for her own amusement. Those would be paired with an oversized t shirt that was tucked in, but I had to wear a sports bra if I wore the t shirt bc she prohibited any form or curve silhouette to be seen. If you guys read the fics I relied like Cherry by @moon7jay or the church one by @hoonieshoney the way they described the reader as far as attire, it was pretty much like that (which is kind of why I could relate to the y/n in those fics lol)

Since enrolling in college, she’s alotted me some freedom to wear what I want but still has some say. I usually opt for straight baggy, or mom jeans and hoodies/t shirts. I keep the hair in the bun just out of natural habit and convenience. But on special events she will dress me up and let me wear my hair down. At this point I continue to dress conservative and casual for convenience lol but some might say my mom trained me for that. She’s a church goer so ofc I go along and I dress for the occasion so I tend to look a little Amish. Sneakers and boots, no heels. And the biggest one, absolutely NO MAKEUP bc she will not allow it EVER. She gave in and let me get all my ear piercings but anything else is a big no-no. She says when I graduate from college, I’ll be old (and smart) enough to dress on my own and wear whatever I want. Lol. She’s a strict and protective mom, and I respect that. (Love my mama ♥️).

Hair is uncolored and I recently cut a bit off for the summer season. I am pale than a mofo. At school they called me Casper (like the ghost) bc they said I was so white, I was nearly transparent. Tall and skinny and built like a teenage boy (I got nothing up in the ta-ta area. ) and I got large bug eyes, thick eyebrows, a small mouth, oval/heart shaped face, loads of baby hair on my forehead, and a small nose lol. The least glamorous individual you’ll ever meet (or one of). My secret weapon are my eyes and I use them against my parents at times to try and get what I want (within reason, like a box of pastries or something) your girl loves the guava-cream cheese croissants. 🥐

[umazane-muesli]

Jukebox January Day 28: soundtracks

Yes I've fallen off the Jukebox January wagon yet again, but I've been looking forward to this prompt because I love listening to soundtracks! I have a massive playlist (like 40+ hours) and I mostly use it to study, read or focus, but not only.

There are so many that I love I'm not sure how to organise this post, but I'll try.

There are composers that have composed several soundtracks that I like. Some more old-ish/classic/iconic ones include John Williams of course (you know who he is, Star Wars, Jurassic Park, Indiana Jones and so many more), John Barry (if a film is from the 80s and vaguely outdoorsy, it's probably him (Out of Africa, Dances with Wolves, Born Free...), Ennio Morricone (italian westerns, The Mission...), or Yann Tiersen (anything european with piano music, like Amélie Poulain or Goodbye Lenin). I haven't even seen some of those movies lol, I just love the music.

Some composers have composed the music for movies that you wouldn't necessarily associate, it's kind of funny. Like Henry Jackman made the music for X-Men first class and the Winter Soldier, but also Puss in Boots for some reason (the Puss in Boots soundtrack is an unexpected banger btw). Alan Silvestri made the Avengers and Captain America soundtracks but also Forrest Gump and Back to the Future. Talk about an extensive career. Alexandre Desplat also composed some cool soundtracks, like the Shape of Water and a bunch of Wes Anderson movies.

I'm also a big fan of the Doctor Who soundtracks, there are so many seasons now and yet the music is never repetitive while still making clever callbacks through themes and motifs. It must be such a massive undertaking and I think it's done beautifully, all the characters and creatures have such distinct themes that I adore, and the atmosphere is also established through the music (for example the time period, etc.). The composer was Murray Gold for more than a decade, and now it's Segun Akinola, who I think is doing a good job of continuing his legacy (I'm quite behind on Doctor Who stuff so I've only really listened to series 11 from him but I like it).

I also love the music from Ghibli films, most (probably all? I haven't checked) were composed by Joe Hisaishi. I love many of them but I have a particular soft spot for Kiki's delivery service <3

There are some soundtracks that I know because I've played them in my brass band. Soundtracks are some of the fun fun things to play in my opinion, more accessible than full-on brass band music but less repetitive than pop songs (which I find kind of annoying to play, and the arranging is sometimes pretty bad lol). Some of the ones I remember playing are Braveheart, Band of Brothers, Planes (yes, the Cars spinoff lol, I haven't seen it but the music is weirdly good) and Dances with Wolves and the Magnificent Seven.

I also have to mention the Visitor from the Future (le Visiteur du futur), my first (fandom) love, I bought the CD when I was 16 and the main theme will be engrained in my heart forever.

Then a bunch of miscellaneous films that I think have great soundtracks: Il Postino, Brokeback Mountain, Eddie the Eagle, Blancanieves, How to Train your Dragon and Luca.

Some TV shows as well: Anne with an E, Outlander (even though I'm a whimp and never got past the end of season 1 lmao, but the music is nice), Torchwood (even though the track titles could have been a little bit less spoilery, I listened to the soundtrack before watching season 2 and that was a mistake let me tell you), Agent Carter, Good Omens, Ted Lasso and The Witcher (at least season 1, I think the soundtrack for season 2 is weirdly pretty bad?). Hannibal and Killing Eve also have pretty distinctive musical atmospheres.

I don't really play video games, but some of them have great soundtracks, like Skyrim, Mass Effect 3, Outer Wilds and Undertale (I listened to so much Undertale music when I was studying for my high school diploma, now it's forever associated with that period in my brain).

Sometimes I like when classical music is used in soundtracks, if it's done in an interesting way. Particular shoutout to Beethoven's 7th symphony which I think was made for cinema, even though it was obviously composed before cinema was even invented. It was used in the King's Speech, for example (and also in the visitor from the future lol).

Lastly, I want to mention some movies and shows that have great soundtracks made from pre-existing songs: Palm Springs, Hot Fuzz, Derry Girls, Our flag means death, Russian Doll, the San Junipero episode of Black Mirror and Pride (yes I love 80s music lol).

[invisibleraven]

15. A is torn between making fun of B’s ugly Christmas sweater and admiring how good they look in it for Reggie and Julie, because either way that's going to be gold.

"Honey I'm home!" Julie calls as she kicks off her boots, sighing when she finally regains feeling in her toes. Winter sucks, and even though her boots keep her feet warm, they pinch and she's seriously considering just giving in and buying the more comfortable looking ones that she hates because she's always thought of them as oversized slippers.

"In the kitchen!" Reggie calls back, and that's when Julie smells the house; cinnamon, nutmeg, and vanilla.

"Whatcha makin'?" she asks as she approaches the kitchen.

"Homemade egg nog!" Reggie exclaims. "I saw this TikTok on how to do it, figured I would try."

"You putting rum in it?" Julie asks as she enters the room.

"Psssh, of course!"

That's when Reggie turns around, smiling wide at her, and Julie has to stifle her horrified gasp turned giggle. "What on earth are you wearing?"

Reggie looks down at the bright green sweater, covered in pom poms, scraps of ribbon, a few felt shapes, a metric ton of glitter and the errant glob of hot glue. "Ugly Christmas sweater," he replies with a shrug. Julie shoots him a look, urging him to explain with a wave of her hand.

"We were doing an ugly sweater craft today, with paper and supplies. Only the kids wanted to make a real sweater, and I had this one lying around from St. Patrick's Day-didn't wanna get pinched you know-and the next thing I knew it was becoming a masterpiece."

"It's certainly a piece of something," Julie snarks.

Reggie gives a mock affronted sound. "My kids are geniuses and I will not hear slander against them!" Then he chuckles. "Come on Jules, they're seven, not Van Gogh, cut them some slack. Besides, you should have seen their faces when I modelled it for them."

Julie softened at that, just imagining the proud looks that Reggie's second graders gave him when they presented their work, pleading with him to try it on. And well, Reggie is a sucker for kids, especially if they pull out the puppy dog eyes. She figures that means she'll have to play bad cop more often than not should they ever have kids, but that's okay, Reggie's already agreed to a lifetime of diaper duty in exchange.

"Well, I hope you liked through your teeth and told them they did a good job," Julie replied.

"D'uh. They... they also made you one. And I kinda promised them a picture," Reggie said, giving her a full pouty look, and well, Julie could withstand it from kids, but not from Reggie, so she sighed and held out her hand. The sweater was bright red and covered much the same as Reggie's was, and Julie was certain that neither would survive in the washing machine, but she wasn't telling Reggie that.

He gathered her to his side, pulling up his phone and struck a happy pose, his smile blinding. Julie looked up at him, and her whole expression softened. For as terrible as the sweaters were, Reggie had never looked handsome, because he was wearing this thing made of love with pride. To Julie, it was his giant heart that made him attractive, not what he wore (even if she would admit that he was devastatingly good looking on the worst of days).

With that in mind she leaned her head onto his shoulder, smiled at the camera, her ugly sweater on full display. Once the shot was taken, she popped up on her toes, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "Tell the kids I love and appreciate their hard work." She then pulled the sweater off, tossing it towards the table. "Now finish off that nog so I can take yours off upstairs."

Reggie looks at the bowl, full of things that would surely spoil if he left them out, and decidedly shoved them in the fridge, pulling a giggling Julie with him towards their bedroom.

And later, she didn't even complain about the trail of glitter leading up the stairs. But that was mainly because Reggie cleaned it up while she was too blissed out to move, and brought her the finished nog with breakfast for supper in bed afterwards.

Julie hummed as the taste of cream and rum touched her tongue, appreciating Reggie sitting beside her, and wondered how fast Reggie would try to ditch those sweaters if she suggested another round.

It turns out he didn't need much convincing.

[nalia-tsukino]

CHARACTER GAME

Fill in the below categories with 3-5 things that your character can be identified by.

Repost & tag away~

Tagged by: @yuriko-tsukino-rp @maria--bride

Tagging: @yuuto-tsukino @afi-mukami @cutelih @best-mukami @ask-akii-mukami and anyone else who wants to do it. No pressure, of course.

Nalia's character

EMOTIONS / FEELINGS

Embarrassment — Due to her past, Nalia finds it difficult to talk about certain things. She is embarrassed and uncomfortable to speak her thoughts out loud. For the same reason, she does not handle praise or compliments well.

Empathy — Nalia cares a lot about others, especially the people who are very close to her. She is willing to make sacrifices and put them before herself.

Trust issues — On the surface, Nalia appears friendly and nice to the outside world. But inside, she finds it hard to face strangers. Betrayed and deceived, she has lost her trust in people. Therefore, she seems very closed and shy in the first conversations. It takes a long time until she trusts someone. But when she opens up, she gives you her whole heart.

Fear of loss — Fate did not always mean well with Nalia. She has lost many loved ones and was left alone. Therefore, she is very afraid of losing someone beloved again.

Love — When Nalia loves, she loves unconditionally.

GREETINGS / LANGUAGE PATTERNS

"Oh my..." / "Damn..." — Reaction to something sudden, mistakes or surprising.

"Hmph!" — Pouting.

"Did you eat?" / "I'm worried about you." / "Take care of yourself." / "I'm so sorry." — She cares a lot about others.

"I'm proud of you." — Praising others is important to her.

"My fox..." / "I love him so much." — When she is talking about her boyfriend Yuuto (@yuuto-tsukino).

COLORS

Black — Nalia's favorite color for clothes and many other things.

Teal — Second favorite color for clothes and other things.

White — Her favorite hair color.

Amber–yellow — The color of Yuuto's eyes.

Blue — The color of Yuuto's flames.

SCENTS

Lavender — Nalia loves the scent and the look of it. She could walk for hours through a field of lavender. Her wish is to plant many of them in her own garden someday.

Jasmine — One of the main notes of her perfume.

Musk — Her favorite smell on men.

Mint — The scent of her shampoo.

Woods — She loves nature and so the smells there. Her favorite is the scent of the woods after rain.

CLOTHING

Jeans — Nalia prefers to wear dark jeans. She thinks they look better on her than skirts.

Off–shoulder shirts — In summer, she prefers to wear off–shoulder. Here she also thinks they look good on her.

Scarf — In winter, in any case, a scarf. It is a necessary accessory for her for when it is cold.

Fake leather jacket / blazer — She actually always wears either a fake leather jacket or blazer over her shirt when she leaves the house.

Sneaker / boots — Unfortunately, she cannot walk in high heels at all. Besides, she prefers comfortable shoes.

OBJECTS

Ring with moon-shaped ornament — Nalia got this ring from her mother. It is a very important memento to her that she cherishs a lot.

Fox necklace — The first gift that she got from Yuuto. She loves the necklace very much. Now, she can wear something close to her heart that reminds her on him when he is not around.

Blanket in bed — A blanket in bed should never be missing. Without it Nalia simply cannot sleep. She loves it cozy and warm.

Yuuto's hoodie — Not so long ago, she was freezing because the heating did not work. Yuuto gave her his hoodie without further ado. Since then, she has not returned the piece of clothing and wears it regularly.

Phone — Nalia uses her phone for everything. It is an important companion in her everyday life. She collects all her photos and music on it. Of course, she also knows when to put it aside and pay attention to other things, work or especially people.

VICES / BAD HABITS

Putting others before herself — Nalia cares more about others than herself. It is kinda sacrificing and giving up her own needs. She is happy with it, but she also knows that it is actually not good / healthy.

Forgetting to eat under stress — When she is under stress or engrossed in an important task, she simply forgets to eat.

Lack of sleep — She loves the night and likes to be up late. Also, she finds peace only in the evening to do certain things. Here she forgets the time and goes to bed late. However, due to her job she has to get up early. Therefore, she suffers from lack of sleep.

Quickly disappointed — In Nalia's everyday life everything has a fixed schedule and regular times. If something comes up and does not go according to her plan, she is very quickly disappointed. She can hardly handle such situations and shuts down then.

Overthinking — Because of her trust issue and fear of loss, Nalia tends to overthink everything and reads between the lines. Sometimes, she sees things that are not there. Furthermore, she analyzes heard words down to the smallest detail. She gets extremely carried away with the possible meaning and just overthinks way too much.

BODY LANGUAGE

Blushing — This woman is a blushing mess. Use the right words or do the right thing and her face is all red. Yuuto knows exactly what to do or say to make her cheeks glow. But it is fine for Nalia. That is her way to react to certain words / things and she accepted it.

Dancing around — When she is happy and in a good mood, she dances around.

Chewing lower lip — She chews her lower lip when she is nervous or excited.

Playing with ring — Sometimes, she plays with her ring instead of chewing her lower lip when she is nervous or excited.

Averting gaze — Nalia averts her gaze when she is disappointed and wants to hide it. And every now and then she does it when embarrassment becomes too much for her.

AESTHETICS

Winter aesthetics — Nalia loves winter and snow.

Vintage aesthetics — She has a liking for old things.

Moon aesthetics — The night is her favorite time of day. Sometimes she stares at the night sky for hours, looking at the moon and the stars.

Fire aesthetics — Fire is dangerous and should be used with caution. But Nalia likes to sit in front of an open fire and enjoy the soothing warmth. She also thinks the flames are beautiful. Especially Yuuto's blue ones.

Dark academia aesthetics — Dark tones, elegant decorations and emphasizes things like books.

SONGS

Kazuki Kato — Tell me Why

Kazuki Kato — Instinctive Love

John Legend — All of Me

Babymetal — Megitsune

Nightwish — Sleeping Sun

[violaceum-vitellina-viridis]

letter to the past, pt. 2

care of: whoever you’ve become now

i hear you’re living in your car.

as a sapien, someone capable of reason and compassion, a member of a society – i hope you have a safe place to park. i hope you have money for gas. i hope you’re able to get back onto your feet, and find a safe place to live.

but as a homo, an ape with teeth and nails and a brain developed to keep me alive and the tigers either outrun or bloodied and still at my feet – i hope they find you in the ravine, the river, wrapped around a tree, as cold and frozen as your black heart always has been.

i miss not thinking about you. i mostly hadn’t, or i mostly didn’t, for the last few years. usually, it was only when you came up because of someone else – whenever someone had an update. on anniversaries. sometimes, when i’d listen to specific songs. but for the most part, over ten years on from that morning you split your way out of my life, i didn’t really think about you.

this year, i’ve thought about you so much, heard your voice in my head so often, it’s made me understand why voluntary lobotomies happened. it’s made me want to find some way to cut my 14 year old self out of me. to find some way to cut you out of me. 

dependent personality disorder with BPD traits, the psychologist tells me. i hear your full name and the ways i’ll never pull your rotten roots out of my veins, no matter how well i weed. 

i don’t have a personality disorder, i know that much. don’t get me wrong, i have a lot of things wrong with me – the autism, the ADHD, the crippling self-esteem problems, the depression, the trauma.

god, the trauma. i’ve got fucking PTSD, and isn’t that just a fucking bitch. you’re at least a quarter of that one, i’m pretty sure. yeah, trauma can’t really be divided out like that, but again: you’re in my fucking head, you heinous goddamn viper.

you always have been, i think. i didn’t think about you, but there are parts of you still woven through me in ways i don’t think i’ll ever be able to unpick. it’s the flinch: the expectations, the eggshell-walk well before there’s any eggs cracked, the way i contort myself smaller, desperate to ensure everyone else is forever above me. 

did you know, back then, what you were doing to me? or was it just second nature? what your mother did, what your brother did, and so what you did? what loved look like, to you, and so it was what you taught me? did you mean to resculpt and crystallize your own wounds in me, or was it just an accident of how young and stupid and vicious we both were?

part of me wants the answers. part of me wants to confront you, now, wherever you are, living in your car with a single friend left to your name. part of me wants to make you look me in the eye and see what you did to me, see the damage you left, the crater in me shaped like your generational trauma. i want it to tear you apart. i want you to suffer for what you’ve done.

i want you to see what you’ve done to me and then know that i still won. i didn’t fucking kill myself. i goddamn lived, you bitch, i lived. i lived, and i got married and have another partner to boot, and i have friends and a job and i’m going to school, and my parents still love me. i have a future, and none of what you did could have taken it from me because i wouldn’t fucking let you. 

not even now, when i hear you whispering in my head, lying to me like you used to. it’s hard and i’m goddamn bad at it, but motherfucker, i didn’t let you win then. i can’t let you win now. 

get absolutely fucked, chelsea. i hope all the bridges you’ve burned are enough to keep you warm this winter.

[jayjamjary]

6/10/14/79/95/97 for the unusual asks ask game

6.) Describe your personality it 3 words or less.

(Most difficult question known to man /hj) Analytical creative freak?

10.) How would you describe your style?

My fashion style is comprised mostly of baggy stuff for comfort reasons but I also do like the shape to brings to the table most of the time. I lean masculine most days (once again for comfort) but I do dress fem sometimes, just less so recently. I loveeeee turtle necks and button up and cargo pants. I tend to tuck my shirt in my pants and I almost always have a wallet chain though more for fidgeting than style. Most of my outfits have black bases and then one or two colors though sometimes I like a yummy mix of slightly muted colors. I wear a lot of things with bones and also a lot of things with <3 hearts. I am a silly earrings connoisseur and have been enjoying beaded bracelets lately. I almost exclusively wear boots and sometimes they are platforms. I like graphic tees and will wear them sometimes with a fun button up or hoodie. I haven't been wearing skirts lately because I've realized two of three of them aren't long enough to cover my ass in the back to a degree I'm comfortable with. The other is a maxi skirt but the zipper on the size is broken >:/

My drawing style leans more realistic and I try to capture a wide variety of facial shapes and body types in it since I mostly draw people. I like fun lighting and either do scribble or paint-y rendering.

14.) If you could live anywhere in the world, where would it be? Why?

Ahhh hard question. I really like the rainforest in the islands of southern Alaska where my grandpa used to live but A.) I only like them in the summer and B.) I'm pretty sure Alaska is a more conservative state. I loveeeeeee tropical islands for all the pretty pants and the oceans and stuff and once I get used to it I don't really mind the heat but also tourists :/ oh also new problem of not being able to wear layers. I didn't care about that when I lived in the tropics as a kid but I do now. I like living in a place with a prominent queer community which I enjoy with Pittsburgh but I do not like living in the suburban sprawl. I want to live somewhere with a lot of cool plants and gay people and either in the city or a rural area. I do not know where that would be.

79.) Do you believe in ghosts?

No, I don't believe in anything supernatural and I'm an atheist. I don't believe in stuff that's not definitely real. Faith has never been for me. I do like to pretend to talk to God/gods though. I compliment them on the clouds and thank them when I'm running late and the traffic isn't bad. I treat them like I'm their blorbo OC. Kinda off topic for a questions about ghosts I guess but as somebody who believes in none of that, they are related to me.

95.) Summer or winter?

I like summer. I tend to get sadder in the winter. The lovely weather around Pittsburgh probably doesn't help. Clouds and clouds and more clouds and then some clouds. I do like the indoor coziness of winter though.

97.) Dark, milk, or white chocolate?

I'm very picky with chocolate. Dark chocolate is gross but I'll eat it if I'm bored. White chocolate upsets my stomach. Milk chocolate is okay but I prefer to have it with something like in a candy bar or something. So milk ig.

[sonxofxgondor]

@ofthevanyar asked: ❛ why did you leave without saying goodbye? ❛

Emotionally Charged Sentence Starters.

Satchel packed with herbal medicines and small savories, the journey for the Fellowship was set to commence. Come the rise of an afternoon sun, all members would be on their way to face the truest of evils, defeat what had been undefeated before. Frodo to bear the burden; Boromir sworn an oath of loyalty and protection. Forever and together were they bound, the Nine, as they were christened. From the lips of elders, the kindest of people that Boromir had come to know. Lord Elrond and his kin - one to be considered more than the rest in the eyes and heart of the Steward-Prince. Never the intention, but most certainly the outcome, Boromir had found himself smitten. Infatuated with every aspect of her person; golden hair, eyes so gorgeous, a smile that could warm the coldest of winter snows. Intelligent just as she was courteous, Amarie did not make him feel weak for the faults he possessed. Stubborn, proud, arrogant, a lover of the battlefield rather than history books. A champion of the physical arts and the craft of boyish play, Amarie held no judgement.

She cared for Boromir. Beyond the titles he carried, beyond the status that was born of himself. She was a gentle friend, a compassionate companion over the course of his stay. Only rarely did he venture far from her side. Always desperate to learn more from her, hear her tales and stories, cheeks colored pink and grin so wide. Boromir had captured the attention of those besides of whom his father wished; whispers in the shadows, followed as he and Amarie explored the gardens, the waterfall and the rocky mountainside. But never did he mind nor find himself distracted. For gray eyes always remained on Amarie - watched her as she went and came, practically shaped themselves to hearts. Sun and moon each taken their stand in the skies, the days spent together were bliss. Happiness not felt before, a bitter end that Boromir knew was sure to come. A final chapter that he did not wish to be so.

He did not want to say goodbye. Such words too painful, so he did not say them at all. Remained silent in his displeasure, hid himself in his room until the moment of leaving dawned. Occupied his attentions by the act of preparing for the trip - ignored all calls, all inquiries into his progress, the gentle tap upon his door and the thereafter fall of bare feet. Soft voice powerful enough as to capture his attention, from satchel bag did he look away, his bed covered with various items and remedies.

Standing still then over top the blanket spread, Boromir looked away, ashamed and embarrassed. Kicked at the dust balls on the floor, watched as they tumbled away from the toe of his boot. He had not left yet, but as Amarie had asked, he was about to. About to; Boromir's heart breaking within his chest.

"Nothing I could say would be a good enough answer, Amarie. None of my words would be able to heal the hurt I have caused you, nor save me from the guilt of my actions. I... I have chosen to act as a child rather than a man. I have been a fool in my frustration concerning the journey I am about to partake."

Boromir sighed, the sound more akin to a cry, chipped at its edges. "Oh, Amarie, can you ever forgive me? Truly, I didn't mean to hurt you. I would never wish to hurt you. It's just that... saying goodbye to you would ruin me. Before I arrived in Rivendell, I assumed that my task would be an easy one. I would go along with the journey of the Ring, no matter where it would have taken me. I would do as was asked of me and complete my quest. Only, I did not think that I would find true happiness here. I did not think that leaving would be so difficult. Amarie... it is folly."

"I cannot find it in my heart to say goodbye to you, because I don't wish to say goodbye at all. You may think me an idiot, but what I tell you now is true. Amarie, beautiful Amarie... I have fallen in love with you. You have possessed all of my thoughts, my days and my nights. You have overtaken all my desires. You have stolen my heart - left me hoping that you would tend to it and keep it forever. Our kind could not be more different, your Elf to my Man, but it does not matter, not to me. You have bewitched me. I adore you. I live for you - I would die for you all the same. I love you. I love you, and I hate to leave you, but I know I must. But it hurts so to do it."

A lonely tear fallen from eye downward to cheek, Boromir glanced to the mess upon his bed, attempted composure, for he would lose it all should he have looked to Amarie. "I would understand if you wish to see no more of me. Besides my cowardice, I have ladened you with so much. I only want to thank you for having come to see me at all now. It... you have meant the world to me, Amarie."

[borderlineconfessional]

Searching the eyes of the strangers we meet. Asking will it get better? Will we be alone?

I remember standing at the screen door, itchy and hot, crying as I watched my dad drive away. My first memory, one of feeling left behind. It was a hot July evening, and my night shirt rubbed roughly against my chicken pox, itchy, sticking to my back. I remember my hair was pasted to my forehead, sweaty with fever, with summer heat. He drove away in the big green car, like he always did, and I stayed behind.

That same summer, standing on my bed, watching everyone play soccer in the field. Again in my pajamas, this time supposed to be asleep. It was light out, why should I be asleep? My second memory, a feeling of injustice, of unfairness, watching them play as the sun dipped behind the houses.

Do our oldest memories shape us? Do I have such strong core beliefs of justice and inclusion because I've held the absence of them in my heart since before I had the words to describe them? Do I expect unfairness, injustice, abandonment and exclusion? Am I a self fulfilling prophecy?

She told me 1-2-3 hold your breath. Cold, but held tightly in the dark. Fear, distrust, but also wonder and excitement. She never swam, she never so much as dipped a toe into the lake, but she held me tightly as I burned with fever and she lowered us into the cool water, under a sky filled with stars. My third memory, one of conflicting feelings of distrust and love. I can hear her voice so clearly, see the stars so brightly, the poplars trembling in the wind. Poplar leaves in the breeze will always sound like summer. They fill me with a nostalgic love that makes my heart ache.

A vast, snowy expanse, straw colored stalks and brush along the shore, drifts of snow piling in seemingly random spots on the ice. Boys laughing, whooping and hollering, a small girl's voice joining in. I'm far away, the snow deep and my boots heavy, hand-me-downs, the wrong size. My hair in my face, hat falling off as I hurry to catch up. I reach the beaver dam they had been climbing, but they've gone on ahead. I catch my breath and resolve to make my own games, make my own fun. I pretend I'm a wolf, stalking around the dam. I pretend I'm living hundreds of years ago, when our people lived alone, and beavers were food and clothing. I laugh and shout. I watch birds fly overhead, hear the creaking of the ice, the crunch of the snow beneath my feet. I remember marveling at the beauty. The silence then makes me realize I actually am alone. My fourth memory, of being forgotten, left behind, tinged with conflicting feelings of awe and feeling small in a big beautiful world. I remember being cold, having snow in my boots melting into my socks, wet mittens that smelled like dust. The sky bright with a blanket of winter clouds, the dogwood branches red against the straw colored stalks of rushes, impossibly beautiful. Feeling so infinitesimal. But also like I was being let in on a secret, one meant for me, lonely little me. I can close my eyes and see it all like it was a moment ago. My chest tightens at the memory, a confusion of overwhelming awe and feeling hollow, forgotten.

Strong emotions make the strongest memories.

[joestylee]

10 Chic Dresses to Wear with Knee High Boots

Can you wear boots with chic dresses? Some say no, others say it’s an incredibly hard look to pull off, and I say Yes, you can wear boots with dresses. It depends on the type of dress and the style of boot. My focus in on knee-high boots because it can be confusing to know what type of dress to pair them with, as boot season is upon us, and the options are numerous.  

THE POWER OF DRESSES

Let me introduce you to women’s fashion hack No 1 - dresses. Dresses are the fastest, most efficient way to get dressed. Slip one over your head and you’re covered in effortless glam. Dresses give you the best silhouettes to show of your shape and flatter your figure plus, they never go out of style. There’s a dress for every body-type, every life season and every occasion.

Why Chic Dresses Are Good with Boots?

Boots give sass to the sweet vibes of a dress. Think of it as balancing the feminine and masculine and boots can work with any style aesthetic.

Do Knee-high Boots Suit Everyone?

Yes, anyone can wear them as long as they buy the right type to suit their persona. From delicate, to bulky, to wild and color blocked, there’s something for every woman.

Chicest Dresses to Wear with Knee-high Boots

Sweater Dresses

Perfect for fall and winter, the stretch of the knit means that the dress follows all the lines of the body like a bodycon without being tight. Leather knee-high boots work well here.

Smock Dress

Smock dresses have just the right amount of freedom and femininity. Pairing them with knee-high boots makes for an edgy look.

Blazer Dress

Think of a blazer dress as a man’s suit jacket with a feminine touch. Probably not office appropriate because of its mini length but can be raised to a level of formality with the right tights and boots.

Asymmetric Hem Dress

Also known as the handkerchief-hem dress, an asymmetric hem dress has an uneven hem line which makes it suitable for wearing with boots. Knee-high boots take the hem from casual to tailored.

Color-block Knit Dress

Comfy, soft, and paneled with blocks of color, knit dresses are the modern woman’s wardrobe staple.

Denim Dress

Denim dresses are perfect for fall and winter. Denim is a comfortable and versatile fabric that works well with practically all-types of type of knee-high boots. If you want some extra shine, go for faux leather knee-highs.

Wrap Dress

For cinching in waists and enhancing figures, the wrap dress has a special place in our hearts and goes so well with boots.

Floral Dress

Floral dresses are always in because they represent freshness and newness. Pairing a floral with a knee-high boot adds a toughness that balances out the florals.

Pinafore Dress

Shaped like an apron, the pinafore dress is worn with under layers that fit closely to the body. Knee-high boots give the pinafore a dignified look.

African Print-Patch Dress

For women who love color and value uniqueness, the African print-patch dress is a conversation starter; (‘Where did you get that?’ ‘I love your dress!’) and is a nice item to pair with your much-loved, knee-highs. Get one from Joe Stylee and browse the Sis Stylee collection for a beautiful selection of African-inspired dresses.

What other dress types are superb with knee-highs? Please share your dress and boots styling experience with us.