#but at the same time he knows them well enough he's not about to question it or get involved

[ramblings-of-a-chaotic-neutral]

Another thought on this, you know what would also be funny? If Arthur, Merlin, and the knights, while on a quest, came across a colony of trolls living in a cave.

Of course, they all prepare to be attacked by the angry trolls, but then one troll barks out in a gravelly voice, "Wait, isn't that human with the gold sword Grolda's stepson?"

The trolls pause and look at Arthur, and they start murmuring amongst themselves, while Arthur, Merlin, and the knights all glance at each other, very confused, but they begin to creep back towards the exit while the trolls are distracted by whatever they're talking about.

Before they can make it to the exit and escape though, the trolls turn back to them with grotesque smiles on their faces. Suddenly, one of the trolls started speaking to Arthur, who had to resist the urge to violently flinch backwards at the smell of its breath.

"Well, we had heard that that old wench had gone and disguised herself as some ugly princess to trick the king of Camelot into marrying her, but none of us thought she'd ever get away with it! It turns out you humans are a bit thicker in the head than you think! Never thought we'd be seeing you around these parts though!"

Arthur and Merlin both take sharp inhales at that, realizing now that these trolls must have known the one that pretended to be Catrina and infiltrated Camelot.

The group of trolls then starts to crowd around the group of humans, putting them on the defensive. The trolls push them back, further into the cave and towards a long slab of rock that looked like it was being used as a long feasting table, if the rotten fruit and meat piled up on it was any indication.

Arthur's anxiety increased with each step back he was forced to take. Were these trolls aiming to avenge their friend? Oh god, were the trolls looking to make a meal out of them?!

Arthur swung his sword at the troll in front of him with all his might, fueled by fear and desperation. He couldn't meet his end at the hands of these disgusting creatures!

To Arthur's horror though, the beast simply caught his arm in an inhumanly strong grip and laughed, his breath somehow smelling even worse than before.

"You've got some fight in ya! I'm sure you'll fit right in, but that still no way to greet family!"

Arthur lowered his arm, confusion somehow overpowering his fear. "Family?" His tone was filled with disgust, confusion, and sheer disbelief.

The troll grinned at him again, this time slinging a grimy arm over Arthur's shoulders.

"Of course! I should introduce myself. The name's Bronk, and I'm your step-uncle!"

(Merlin almost couldn't stop himself from laughing hysterically, but he managed to barely stifle his laughs.)

And that's how Arthur found himself, dumbfounded, sitting with Merlin and the knights at a feasting table filled with rotten food, listening to his new "extended family" introduce themselves and discuss all the best ways to introduce him to the troll lifestyle.

The trolls all tolerated the knights, but funnily enough, they seemed to be enjoying Merlin's company, laughing at the stories that the manservant was telling them. At Arthur's questioning look, Merlin shrugs and says "It's not that different from sitting with the knights during feasts. They have all the same manners anyways, and at least the trolls don't demand me to fetch them more mead."

And that's how Arthur got forcefully adopted by his troll stepfamily! :D

(also @sugar-coated-prat-dragon, since I promised you something fluffy! <3)

You know what's one thing I'm disappointed we never got in Merlin? After the troll episodes, the entire event was never brought up again!

I mean, I understand if the people of Camelot would rather forget about the whole thing, but Arthur had a troll for a stepmother for like a week and Merlin never teased him about it later on?!

I would really like to write a fic or au some day set in the Golden Age where it's discovered that dragonlords got their powers from being descended from ancient powerful dragons that shapeshifted in humans and had half-human children.

And Arthur's reaction is to turn to Merlin and go "So what you're telling me is that one of your ancestors was deranged enough to sleep with a dragon? That certainly confirms my theory that your insanity is passed down through your blood."

And of course Merlin immediately fires back, "And remind me Sire, which of our family trees includes a troll?"

Arthur sputters for a moment before shouting that that doesn't count, she enchanted his father and the whole thing was a trick, before Geoffrey pipes up and says, "Actually sire, as it was an official wedding, Queen Catrina the Troll was officially added to the Pendragon family tree. And as the marriage was never formally annulled before her death, she cannot be removed from the record."

Arthur's left horrified by this, while Merlin's laughing his ass off.

I just think a scene like that would be neat!

[parkersbliss]

the 141 and the really weird or random quirks I’ve decided they had

pairing: task force 141 (ghost, gaz, price, soap) x female reader 

warnings: suggestive content, like sexual content but not smut

a/n: I have zero reason for doing this expect I wanted too?? and got carried away with suggestive aspects of it which is funny cause I don't write smut lmfaooo. so mostly fluff and based off real quirks people I know have.

Masterlist | Taglist | Prompt List

requests open for tf141!

—

Price:

no matter how many times he cleans the bathroom, his beard hair is everywhere. obviously he keeps that shit well groomed but it’s always somehow stuck on your face after you wash it, or on your shower loofah or towel. and you've tried and he’s tried to clean it and it never works. 

loves gnomes. you have ones in the garden, the front yard, in your house for EVERY occasion. I’m talking christmas, easter, halloween, thanksgiving. he has a set for every season and it honestly scares you a little. one year he bought a giant one for your christmas tree as the topper and it made him so happy so you just accepted it.

doesn’t like to celebrate his birthday. He’s so much of a giver he downplays it every year. If you guys have kids, he’ll buy something for them ON HIS DAY just to take the attention off. so he kind of hates gifts, but he’s not going to not accept that. Would prefer you don’t, even though he bought you a $20K pearl necklace for your birthday. (You’re still afraid to wear it)

leaves you on heard. all. the. time. you ask him something, like as he’s sitting next to you and just … silence. sometimes he even nods, looks at you and then turns away. you’re not sure if it’s something to do with his hearing or he’s just so relaxed at home he just doesn’t comprehend sometimes. “hey, baby, what do you want for dinner?” “mm.” 

average dad experience of sharing a hotel room and brother is snoring. you know what I’m talking about? the cold A.C turning on and off and mf just be out and it’s so loud you have to wear ear plugs. you wonder if he has sleep apnea at some point bc he can’t be real. 

but don’t worry, he’s just as loud in bed bed ;) and he makes it known when you’re going at it 

Ghost:

too stealthy for his own good and always scares the shit out of you. and he’ll try to be loud too, knocking on doors AND still isn’t loud enough. He always feel so bad but it’s also so funny to him bc he really does try to not be so quiet. 

owns the same black t-shirt, like at least 5, but claims one of them is just softer and better than the others. you’ve tried them all on and there is no difference to which he mumbled something about you not having the special sense??

cat whisperer. you’ll adopt a cat while he’s gone bc you’re lonely and you spend all the time with the cat but no. cat loves ghost more. He’ll sleep on top of ghost, but never you. he’ll follow ghost around the house, but not you. it’s very infuriating. and ghost has no idea why bc he’s around 1/2 the time you are. 

has a whole cabinet for his bourbon collection. and a special glass cup AND special spherical ice for it. he doesn’t even drink that often, but it was absolutely necessary (to him). 

he’s a clean freak. very routine in how and when he does laundry. Bed sheets on this day, dark on this day, etc. he won’t let you do any of it. If he loses a sock, he throws out the other pair. as soon as there’s a hole in something, he throws it out. 

nov. 1st is christmas to him. the tree is already up, no questions asks. there are no thanksgiving decoration in this house. he also has multiple trees, one by the entrance, one in the living room, one in your bedroom. 

has definitely fucked you under the christmas lights by the fire. begs you to wear bow lingerie so he can quite literally “unwrap his best gift” 

Gaz: 

loves the lego car sets. his home office is decorated with all his medals AND the lego cars. has definitely left pieces out that you stepped on and then proceeded to scream his ear off.

begs you to play fortnite with him. you think he’s batshit crazy “that’s literally your actual job” “no but the raging kids makes it fun and we can match skins” (he means the banana skins btw) and he’s a troll. he doesn’t take the game seriously, he just wants to torture little kids and make fun of you when you can’t figure out where the shooting is coming from. or when you throw down a med kit instead of splash. 

cannot get through a movie without fucking you and it’s always during the good parts so he’s got you in doggy and you’re still trying to watch the movie??

Instigator fr. he’s not toxic but like he’s gonna argue. Has literally once said to you “I’m not arguing I’m just explaining why I’m right” to which you stared at him and asked if he was stupid 

always ask for hot sauce or sriracha at restaurants or if he can get something spicer. he eats buldok noodles with the whole sauce packet and then proceeds to sit in the bathroom for an hour while you scold him. 

reckless driver to the max. you fear for your life when you’re in a car with him. He speeds (within reason he claims), he makes quick merges and switches lanes fast. he does use a turn signal so you let it slide bc he’s risky but not THAT risky. 

obviously, he has horrible road rage. you’ll be calling him while he’s driving and it’s all normal and then “OI YOU FUCKING SHITE DO YOU HAVE A LICENSE?” you just sigh and then he answers you like normal, “yeah I think I’m out of toothpaste too.” 

saves every selfie of you from snap and his rotating ones as his wallpaper. even the ugly ones you beg him to take out. like any guy, he’ll claim it’s his favorite and then it’s a 0.5 of you eating ice cream and it’s dripping everywhere and your eyes are half closed. 

Soap: 

leaves sticky notes everywhere to remind himself of things. anything. “need olive oil” “missing one blue sock” “(Y/N) wants thai takeout” “call ghost” “laundry” 

and sometimes they’re not even correlated to where it should be. like the note that just says “laundry” will be in the kitchen. and he stacks on top of those sticky notes with more. “did laundry” “bought more socks” it drives you insane

he's obsessed with blankets. He has a designated like basket/bin or blankets in the living room and your bedroom. He sleeps with like three. and he’s got heated ones, sherpa ones, weighted ones, etc. absolutely collects the different printed ones for each holiday. 

loves to go decor shopping with you, but only because he wants to pick out the ugliest things and see your reaction as you swat at him and tell him to put it back. only for him to sneak it back into the cart and you death glare him. 

If you need to rant, he resumes the whole “omg girl, period.” personality. he loves gossip and he loves doing facemasks with you as you talk shit and drama about your coworkers. 

he's so “wait I have to tell my gf this” bro will literally be on a mission and gets a cut? “I have to tell (Y/N).” the room exploded? would take a selfie and send it to you, if possible. sees a weird shaped potato at the grocery store? Sends a picture. Falls down the stairs? you're getting a picture of his broken foot. hard? here's a dick pic just for you babe

uses the same hydroflask water bottle that’s dented, has sticker residue and chipping on all side. “It’s reusable, that’s the point” he claims. you're not sure if he’s ever washed it and you certainly aren’t going to open it and find out for him. 

[hydrobunny]

everyone thinks that they know us

tags: confessions, getting together, friends to lovers

a/n: written from the idea made by the amazing @yangx2isawhore :3

--------------------

it's exactly 11:34pm when the ringing of your phone wakes you up.

jolting up from your bed, you blearily glare at your phone screen. the contact name of SHIDOU‼️ burns into your eyes.

you hang up.

a second later, it rings again.

"what."

"y/n!" as always, shidou's voice is just a little too loud for it to be acceptable. "how mad would you be if i killed rin right now?"

you pause. you look at the time. you consider the probability of him telling the truth.

"pretty mad."

"great!" and you can hear the grin in shidou's voice as he recites out an address. "you can come save him then."

although you were the one that had tried so hard to befriend rin itoshi, you were pretty certain that you hadn't signed up for whatever the hell this was.

you pull up at the address at a sharp 12:02 am, annoyance already settling in underneath your eyes.

the address is a mansion (why would you ever expect anything else), and the recognizable bass of party music blasts through the windows. at least a dozen different colored sports cars (you consider how much one would sell for) are parked outside of it.

you debate turning around. unfortunately, you think shidou might actually be serious about killing your best friend.

best friend. how did you get to this point? friend. didn't matter that you might have been in love with him- rin could never see you as anything more.

you knock on the door.

a man you might be able to recognize if you cared enough answers. his dual-colored eyes flit over you with interest.

"hey there, pretty," he says, and his voice is slurring with the unmistakeable touch of alcohol. "don't think you're on the invite list, but i can make an exception."

you scowl. "no thank you. shidou called me to come?"

he cocks his head. "what could someone like you possibly have anything to do with that psycho?"

"he-"

the psycho in question slams into two-eye's side, whooping. "took you long enough!"

you sigh.

shidou ryusei grins at you, positively buzzing with energy. the smell of cheap (why cheap? genuinely, why did he buy cheap alcohol?) beer lingers around his face.

"did you kill rin yet?"

the grin immediately wipes itself from his face. "getting there."

he whirls around, a warm hand latching around your own- and then he's pulling you through the hallways of this too-big house.

the music hasn't stopped for a second since you've got here. in many of the rooms, you can spot groups of vaguely recognizable people, all of them in various states of buzzed-to-plastered.

you wonder how professional athletes weren't any better than the frat boys that threw weekend parties. (well, the age range was pretty much the same)

"where are we?" you manage to shout into shidou's ear, as he pulls you further away from the heart of the party.

"sae's house!" he yells back.

"what?"

the two of you slam into another room- shidou shuts the door with too much force - and the music fades away into background noise.

rin's head snaps up at your entrance.

"rinrin!" shidou crows. "brought you another babysitter!"

rin stares at you with genuine confusion. his eyes are hazed over, his cheeks a light red. "what? y/n?" a red solo cup, ominously empty, sits by his hand.

"yes, yes," shidou replies, pushing you forward. "the only person who can somehow tolerate your presence is here!"

you slip out of shidou's grip. "what the hell is happening?"

he rolls his obnoxiously bright eyes at your question. "little itoshi's weirdly drunk and incoherent. which means big itoshi has to pretend like he cares. which means i can't force big itoshi to drink an enormous amount of alcohol! so now you have to watch this idiot!"

"i am not drunk," rin snarls towards shidou. "and i don't need a babysitter."

he attempts to get up from the counter he's perched on, and immediately wobbles. you debate whether it would be worth laughing.

before you can make a decision, another side door opens.

and sae itoshi meets your gaze with bored indifference.

"what- you!"

he raises an eyebrow. you're not sure how you got into this situation.

you wonder how you're supposed to react to meeting the one and only brother you've heard rin talk so much about.

some inner part of you immediately doesn't like him. the other part immediately notices how similar they look, and curse their sheer attractiveness.

either way, sae loses the little interest he had in you immediately, turning towards shidou. "is this-" he waves a hand towards you. "her?

shidou nods furiously. "junior is perfectly cared for now. now let's get out of here!"

rin glares at all three of you.

sae sighs. for someone who's supposed to be the host, he doesn't look thrilled at the prospect of socializing.

the elder itoshi turns his attention onto the younger. "you're fine with her?"

rin's eyes narrow further. he doesn't respond.

shidou takes that as his cue. his hands place themselves on sae's shoulders. "good talk, everyone!"

and with another slammed door, you are left alone with rin. it's more than a little awkward.

you open your mouth- he shoots you a glare. you can take a hint. (even if it breaks your heart.)

out of a bored curiosity, and maybe a little spite, you start opening cabinets. they're mostly empty (you wonder what kind of life sae lives).

rin's gaze follows you the entire way. it's intense enough to give you goosebumps.

eventually, you come across a pot of gold- a wine bottle, its cork untapped. there's a ribbon attached to its neck; you spy the JFU logo placed on top.

"he won't mind, right?" you ask.

silence follows.

you open the bottle. if you're going to be stuck here anyways, why let it go to waste?

surprisingly, it's rin that talks first. "why'd you come?" he mumbles out, stumbling over a syllable.

you shrug, taking another mouthful of the wine. (it's good. too good. damn rich people.) "shidou said he was gonna kill you."

“shidou has your number? you responded? why'd you care?" he blurts out in a tsunami of words. immediately after, he looks away with reddening ears.

you eye him with slowly growing amusement. there's a buzzing in your stomach that's slowly stripping your self control away. "yes. and yes. and because we're friends."

rin tch's, still refusing to meet your eyes. you think he'll keep talking, but he doesn't.

so you take another swig of the wine bottle. maybe rin can be the one to reach out for once.

but- like always- you're the first to crack. after a possible fifteen minutes of brooding silence, you sigh.

"what's going on with sae?"

rin's gaze snaps to your face. "what about him?"

you raise your brows. (you think you meant to raise only one. you can't really tell.) "i thought he didn't fuck with you."

rin's face scrunches at your words. "what?"

you groan, sliding down from your perch onto the floor. "you know? i thought- well, he looks like he cares."

he stands up. "he doesn't."

"sure."

he stares at you with a complicated expression, and then makes his way over to you. you blink up at him.

"i don't like you talking to him," rin says, seemingly more lucid than before.

"wasn't really my choice." you shoot him a smile, raising a hand. he lifts you up to standing with it.

from how close you now are, the two of you are almost touching. if you weren't as delirious on wine as you are now, this would be much more distressing.

even now, it takes all of your will to maintain eye contact with him.

"you don't like me talking to him?" you mumble out.

rin tilts his head. "no."

"can i ask why you came here then? or why you got plastered off cheap booze?"

he opens his mouth, then stops. and then- "you're not doing much better."

you clear your throat. more than the wine, it's rin who's clouding your thoughts. his faint cologne- so much more evident at this distance- intoxicates you.

"that didn't answer my question."

his eyes narrow. "i felt like it."

you frown. "what situation are you in that made you want to get drunk with shidou?"

and his eyes flicker down. to your lips.

"what do you think?"

you stumble; rin's hand places itself in the small of your back. signature itoshi teal burns.

you're both drunk. you're in his brother's house. and yet-

and yet, you're both here, and rin itoshi is leaning down into you.

his lips meet yours desperately, his breath catching over and over again. your hands tangle into his hair- he groans wordlessly.

you separate with a gasp.

"are you- what?" you manage, face ablaze.

rin looks just as disheveled. "y/n."

"rin."

he steps back, eyes roving from wall to wall. "fuck. fuck, im sorry. i thought-"

that's not the right words you wanted to hear. you step forward, the wine bottle long forgotten behind.

"you thought right," you blurt.

rin stares at you. a flush sits over his face.

"i thought you wanted to just be friends. that- that you didn't want me." you say.

surprise, and horror, flicks in his eyes. "what?"

you cough out a laugh. "not very smart off the field, are you?"

rin's mouth opens and closes, much like a fish. you think he's going to speak-

he closes the gap between you two, and his lips meet yours again.

between gasps, he mumbles a "i could never not want you." into your form.

and you sigh out your own declaration of love

somewhere in the house, a door slams. someone whoops in exhilaration.

but in this room, it's just you and rin. alcohol tinges both of your breaths. you're both drunk on something bigger.

[unhingedangstaddict]

The bucktommy mpreg brainrot is so real wtf. I never thought in a million years I'd write an mpreg fic and well,,,

Here's my latest wip

Tommy was sitting on the bathroom floor next to the toliet again, crying for no reason again. He was so sick of the spontaneous crying and worse he didn’t even know why he was crying. Tommy had cried after the break-up, but he’d mostly stopped after two-ish weeks. He was sick of feeling the way he’d felt all week- horrifically nauseous and tired no matter how much he slept.

Tommy was so caught up in his wallowing and his crying that he didn’t hear Lucy enter the house, didn’t notice her standing in the doorway to the ensuite. He only noticed her when she set a plastic bag from a drug store down at his feet.

Tommy sniffled and looked up at Lucy. “I’m starting to regret giving you a key.” He wiped the tears off his cheeks.

“Is it really so terrible having someone look out for you?” Lucy crossed her arms.

Tommy was quiet.

“Thought so.” Lucy nodded.

Tommy curiously reached for the bag and looked inside.

“First time ever for me, the women's version of something was cheaper than the mens version. It’s the exact same thing, just different colored packaging.” Lucy said nonchalantly.

Tommy hardly registered what Lucy was saying as he plucked the box out of the bag. A three pack of pregnancy tests. In an instant it felt like his world had been flipped on it’s axis.

There was no way this was actually happening, but if he was- if Lucy was right about this, it would make sense. The headaches, the fatigue, the random crying, the nausea and vomiting- morning sickness. Now that Tommy thought about it, it seemed like his sense of smell had maybe been heightened the last week or so too.

“If I’m way out of line here Tommy, just tell me, it’s fine. I’ll keep ‘em for next time I have a scare.” Lucy offered.

Tommy swallowed thickly. His mind and heart were racing. This couldn’t be happening.

“Tommy?” Lucy prompted.

“I don’t know.” Tommy said quietly. Clearly Lucy had been thinking about this at least since they were on the phone not that long ago. Her suggestion to drink something made even more sense now. Tommy couldn’t believe this was his life.

“What- what do you mean you don’t know?” Lucy asked.

“I never uh, I never got tested to see if I’m a carrier.” Tommy couldn't take his eyes off the box of pregnancy tests.

“You’re joking right?” Lucy sounded shocked or maybe even pissed.

Tommy shook his head.

“How could you be so irresponsible?” Lucy questioned. “You- I can’t believe you never got tested. I can understand not getting tested as a kid with your dad being the way he is but Tommy, you’re- you sleep with men! How could you not get tested?”

Tommy spoke with a monotone voice, head clearly elsewhere. “Parents never bothered. Then I was in denial about being gay and thought I could make myself fall in love with a woman. Then it didn’t matter because I was never serious enough to ditch condoms. Then it didn’t matter when I was serious enough to ditch condoms because I was almost exclusively the top and I was too old. The thought never even crossed my mind in all the time I was with Evan.”

“Oh my god Tommy.” Lucy mumbled.

“I know.” Tommy swallowed thickly. “I guess I have to take one of these now, huh?”

“I’d recommend all three, actually.” Lucy told him. “These things aren’t the most reliable, always a chance of false negatives or positives, so it’s best to take more than one test but if you take two and get two different results then you won’t feel any better or worse than you did before taking them, until you take another. So three at once.”

“Sounds like you know from experience.” Tommy looked up at Lucy.

“I’m a woman who does not exclusively sleep with other women.” Lucy shrugged.

Lucy left the bathroom so Tommy could take the tests, and as soon as he was finished he set them on the counter, opened the door for Lucy, started a timer, and sat back down on the floor again, not confident that he wasn’t going to throw up again at any moment.

Lucy came in and sat next to Tommy on the floor. Just by looking at him she could tell he wasn’t in the mood to talk and for the time being she knew everything she needed to know. Tommy hadn’t even thought about the possibility of this so Lucy was certain that Tommy had no idea what he’d want to do about it- if Tommy was pregnant it was undoubtedly Evan’s, and Tommy was scared and heartbroken right now. Instead of talking Lucy just took his hand and held onto it.

Three minutes felt like an eternity, and if it wasn’t for Lucy holding onto Tommy’s hand, he was sure he would’ve completely lost his grip on reality. He distantly heard the timer on his phone going off, followed by Lucy giving his hand a squeeze. Tommy stopped the timer. He couldn’t look at the tests. He couldn’t move. “Can you look?” He rasped.

“Of course.” Lucy said gently. She stood, not letting go of Tommy’s hand and looked at the tests on the counter. There were two visual tests and one digital test with a weeks along indicator.

The visual tests both showed plus signs, meaning the tests were positive.

The digital test read ‘Pregnant 3+’, meaning three or more weeks along.

“Luce?” Tommy’s grip on her hand tightened.

“Positive.” Lucy told him.

“All of them?” Tommy wondered.

“All three.” Lucy nodded.

Tommy nodded slowly. “Okay.” He whispered as tears stung his eyes and quickly began to fall.

Lucy squeezed Tommy’s hand and returned to her spot on the floor next to him.

Tommy pulled his knees to his chest, rested the arm that wasn’t holding Lucy’s hand on his knees, put his head down, and sobbed for so many reasons it felt like there wasn’t even a reason to be crying at all.

[sillylotrpolls]

Normally in these results posts I include some interesting/amusing analysis of the results, but as seen in yesterday's post I'm not really feeling it this week.

Instead, let's talk about something else interesting that happened with this post: it was my first experience with Tumblr's Blaze platform!

A whole bunch of information about that below the cut. ( @staff, if you're reading this, I have some ~burning~ questions for you. 😁)

I'm not sure if anyone noticed, but much to my surprise this poll was blazed on November 5th courtesy of @katco-cereal, who runs @silmarils-for-breakfast. They thought the poll was funny and had a free blaze thanks to Tumblr's new ad-free -> premium system, so why not?

What happens when your post is blazed

When someone else blazes a post of yours, you get a notification in your activity feed as well as an email. However, I first noticed because the poll had a little "fire" icon right above the notes.

So, if a post of yours gets blazed, you'll definitely know about it so long as you check tumblr and/or your email regularly.

Clicking the icon got me this notification:

As you can see, anyone can blaze a post as long as your blog settings permit it and it passes moderation. However, if you blaze someone else's post they might choose to "extinguish" the campaign before it starts or is over. If this happens, you don't get a refund or your free monthly blaze campaign returned. So, be sure the original poster isn't going to be upset at being blazed or else be comfortable being out the princely sum of $10 (or however much you spent).

Why you might want to check before blazing a post

I was touched that someone found my poll funny enough to reblog, but there is a reason I might still have extinguished the campaign early: you can't edit a blazed post while it's blazing.

Obviously you already can't edit polls (a fact I approve of, actually), but I do often go back and add context to posts or links or just fix a typo or whatever. Even adding a new tag would have required ending the campaign first.

This makes sense! The post has been through moderation, and it would be a huge loophole if you could submit something unobjectionable, like Gollum singing about how he likes it raw and wriggling, and then edit the post to feature hardcore Gandalf/Balrog porn after the campaign starts. But it's something you should be aware of before blazing.

The report and how to interpret it

Here's a copy of the report I was emailed after the campaign ended. It was sent pretty quickly; clearly Tumblr puts some effort into providing a good experience for users willing to actually give them money unlike the vast majority of us.

Something I have frequently lamented while running this blog is the lack of detailed stats. In particular, I would love a time-stamped breakdown of votes, so I can see exactly when a certain option took off or how getting reblogged by a certain popular blog affected things. With this report I still don't have that, but I did get some impressions stats.

As it happens, I have experience marketing and running ads on other social media platforms (mostly Twitter (RIP) and LinkedIn), so I had no trouble interpreting this. If you don't have that specific experience, however, let me break it down for you.

About impressions

According to the report, I got 3,677 impressions, 277 of which were "earned." An impression is when someone sees your post. Or, more accurately, an impression is when Tumblr puts a post on someone's dash. It's entirely possible for Tumblr to do that but for users not to actually see the post because they have some sort of ad-block in place. How exactly a platform determines if a post was seen is generally kept secret in hopes of preventing exploitation.

An "earned" impression in this context means someone saw the poll because it was blazed and decided to reblog it. Then, additional users saw their reblog. Those additional users seeing it are the "earned" impressions. Same for the other stats in this report.

Note that this report is only for impressions and other stats related to the blazed version of the post. If you saw this poll because you follow @sillylotrpolls or because someone who does reblogged it, that impression is not counted in this report.

Something else to notice is that the campaign promised that the post would be shown to "at least 2500 users." Why not make that exactly 2500 users? A few reasons come to mind. This is educated speculation as I do not work for Tumblr, but it's very likely a combination of:

Not being able to be 100% certain each user actually saw the post for above ad-blocker reasons (or if their dash just glitched for whatever reason, or the power went out as they were scrolling, or whatever).

The blaze system lags in counting how many impressions have already been served, so it's simpler to just show the post extra times rather than constantly checking to see if the count is at 2500 yet.

It's marketing technique meant to make users feel good about choosing Blaze because Tumblr is being generous with the impressions (which is fine to feel! there is nothing wrong with appreciating something nice!)

Votes = impressions?

Finally on the topic of impressions, one thing I really love about running polls is that they are a good proxy for measuring impressions without an ad campaign. When you scroll through your dash, you probably vote in most of the polls, right? Even the ones you don't like or reblog? (Actually, now that I'm saying it, I realize I'm not sure and would dearly love some stats on this.)

If you look at literally any poll on this blog, you'll see the number of votes is much higher than the number of notes. Since each user can only vote in a poll once, it makes a good estimate for how many people saw your post even if they didn't otherwise interact with it.

On the other hand, sometimes I have a poll that gets very few votes compared to other polls posted in that same time-frame. When that happens, it's probably not that I'm getting less impressions, since I can generally assume about the same number of followers are seeing each of those posts. Instead, it's much more likely that people just didn't want to vote on that particular poll.

A good example is this poll on dwarfism. I know it got at least 85 impressions, because it got that many votes, but generally other polls that didn't do well in that month got at least 200 votes or so. So votes can be a quick proxy for a proper impression count, but you have to be aware of complicating factors.

What about those other stats?

An engagement means someone interacted with the post. This includes clicks, follows, shares, replies, reblogs, and likes. It does not include votes.

A click means a user clicked on a link in your post. This is an important measurement in most "real" campaigns because you make the post trying to get people to click a link to the page selling your product or whatever. If there's no link (as was the case here), this stat will be zero no matter what.

A follow is pretty self-explanatory, but I will mention it can be difficult to capture all follows as a result of a campaign, especially if a user has turned off tracking cookies. If a user follows directly from the blazed post, of course that will be captured in the report. But what if a user sees the blazed post, then goes to check out the blog and see if they like it before deciding to follow? Depending on how the system is set up, that may or may not be reflected in the report.

The other stats I'm guessing you're familiar with if you use tumblr in any capacity at all. XD Once again, "earned" means the engagement happened on a post that was reblogged by a user who saw the post in blazed format. Interesting to me was the high ratio of reblogs to likes in the report. I'd have to see reports from additional campaigns to have any insight into whether that's common for blazed posts or specific to this one, however.

Something else I'm curious about is if any of these engagements are "hidden" in the notes until after the campaign ends. It's not going to be noticeable with reblogs or likes unless you're very meticulous, but I noticed right off that the number of replies the poll theoretically had (6) wasn't matching the number of replies I could see in the notes (4).

Usually if there's a mismatch like that I would assume it's because either I have a user blocked or visa versa, but that shouldn't be possible on my own blog, right? And if I go to check now, there are indeed the number of replies the notes say there should be, and they're timestamped Nov 5. So, I guess they were hidden? But I have no idea at all why that would be, as it would require extra code to make that happen, right? Very odd.

Is blazing a post a good idea?

Sure, if you like a post and want it to get more attention, why not? Just be sure the author (if not you) is cool with it and doesn't have plans to edit that post. However, it's also the case that a good post will probably spread around Tumblr anyway.

If I were making the call and had a set budget to work with, I'd blaze under some combination of the following circumstances:

The source blog doesn't have very many followers so the post isn't likely to be seen otherwise

The source blog has followers, but the post to be blazed would be popular with an audience beyond the typical demographics of those existing followers

Getting only a few clicks is enough to justify the cost of the campaign

Getting the post in front of users, regardless of any engagements, is enough to justify the cost of the campaign

In this case, Katco had a free blaze to burn (heh) and it was worth it to them to share the post with no potential personal return simply because they thought the post was funny and should be shared. And as a bonus, we got to learn about the Blaze process together, which was neat.

Generally, just keep your expectations realistic and remember it's only Tumblr, after all. $10 to have a little fun is perfectly justifiable if it brings you joy.

Okay, fine, a LITTLE bit of poll analysis

I said I didn't want to dig into the results, but I think we can all agree that "The monarchy is fine, but city-states like Rivendell aren't" getting 0.3% of the vote while "City-states are fine, but Galadriel should face re-election every 500 years" got 10.2% is pretty interesting, right? Can we get a Political Science major in here to dive into that result?

And how about the notion that monarchies are great so long as you like the guy in charge (17.2%)? And yeah, the Shire has democracy, but it's limited and both Merry and Pippin are part of aristocratic lines and inherit (not earn) positions of power...

Apparently even when I'm depressed, I just can't help but be interested in data. It is a sickness gift.

Finally, I'll leave you with these tags from @narcissusneverknewme:

#honestly this is a case of 'any system can fall to corruption'#our government sucks not bc it's a democracy but because its corrupt at every level of governance#lol#the bureaucracy and the fact they can just lie to citizens and do horrible harm. like red hill#or flint mi#this wouldn't happen under aragorn#not bc he's a king but bc he isn't corrupt

[goingmerryfics]

Reader fails at flirting - Mihawk, & Crocodile

Content: SFW content, clumsiness, ranting, & bad pick up lines

Notes* Thank you for your patience while I struggled through my writer’s block! This was a request from a looong time ago but I no longer have that ask to reply to it seems. I believe Smoker was also supposed to be here, but I’m just going to upload this and take it easy while I get back into the writing spirit :) 

Mihawk

Not the type for talking, attempts at flirting with Mihawk usually end up with long, awkward silences that you feel the need to fill, which makes you sound even more awkward as you bounce from topic to topic

He was always the first to show up at the Warlord meetings, and since you worked in the building, it gave you an opportunity to chat him up as you pour the champagne for each guest

He only barely glances at you every now and then as you try to get his attention, ranting on about whatever comes to mind in the moment and asking him questions that he doesn’t respond to

You always end up feeling defeated at the end of the day. Always left with the heavy feeling that he just doesn’t like you, no matter what you say

Eventually you decide that you can’t keep pestering him. Next time there’s a meeting, you decide not to shoot into chatter with him when he arrives

You keep your head down, silence in the room. You can feel his eyes on your back as you walk around, watering the plants and doing whatever you can do to stay in his presence without having to talk to him

And then,

“Is something wrong?”

You’re embarrassed by how fast you look back at him. It’s the first time he’s addressed you. You, stuttering like mad, tell him that nothing is wrong

“You didn’t greet me today.”

He sounds… Disappointed. You ask him why he never responded, adding that you thought you had been annoying him, and that you weren’t even sure he knew who you were

Then he says your name- your full one. He starts to repeat information you’ve told him about yourself, a mix of information that you had thrown at him over all the different times you’ve met him. It touches your heart that he remembers it all

“I know who you are very well, actually. If you gave me a moment to think of my answers, I would have been able to share. You speak too quickly.”

He explains it so bluntly, but now that you think about it- you didn’t really give him much time to think before you moved on to the next subject. So the awkward silences were just Mihawk trying to put his words together

He urges you to take a seat beside him, that way he can finally give you the responses you were looking for

“You should try to let the other person respond if you’re going to flirt with them.” 

He says it almost scoldingly, but he’s smirking at you

Crocodile

As a citizen of Alabasta, Crocodile was someone that many people looked up to. But only you were in semi-regular contact with him

Every now and then, he would come dine at your workplace and every single time, you were his server. Your co-workers were always too intimidated to potentially get something wrong- the man was intimidating, after all -so that meant that anytime he was in, you were the one to face him

He always ordered the same thing when he came, which made it easier after a while. You’d already be walking up to his table with the wine he liked while his food was in the oven before he’d even made his order

The problem was that your ridiculous crush on him made you clumsy as hell

The first few times you were safe- the tripping over your feet and dropping plates had only happened out of his view, where it was your co-workers that would laugh or chastise you for not being careful enough

But then it had caught up to you in the worst way

You were taking the wine to his table and, as always, you engaged him in some casual conversation. Something about the weather or asking how his casino was doing

He would always answer shortly. Something of a grunt that either sounded positive or negative, or a short answer of ‘good’ or ‘eh’

You were too busy staring at him and waiting for an answer to notice that you were completely missing the glass as you poured his wine

And in turn, he was too surprised at your new, sudden carelessness to answer

Eventually you’d noticed as the wine started to spill onto the floor. Crocodile got up from his chair as you scrambled to get the spill contained to just the tablecloth, but also trying to be careful of all the glass on the table

The white tablecloth would be stained for sure

Crocodile just watched the whole time, holding his cigar between his fingers

The next few times went similarly. You’d bring the wine, serve his food, and give the bill- and every time, you would do something wrong. 

Forgetting his silverware, serving him the wrong plate, etc.

At least he always tipped you nicely. That never changed

You’d been so determined to make sure everything went right that the next time he walked in, you tried to be extra careful. You brought him his wine and paused, noticing his hand covering his glass.

“Just water today.”

Three simple words that threw you off. Why? What was wrong with the wine? Was it you?

Your on your way back from getting his ice water when a co-worker steps back, bumping into you from behind and sending you off balance, tipping the serving tray and sending Crocodile’s ice-cold water all over him

Your co-worker all but bails out of the dining hall, leaving you slack jawed, staring at Crocodile’s ruined suit. You can’t even muster up the bravery to apologize to the man as the ice cubes slip off of him and onto the floor

Then he laughs. It’s a loud, booming laugh that seems even louder while the room is dead silent. You’re sure you’re going to die there either from embarrassment or his wrath

“I’ve never seen someone trip over themselves so much just to get my attention. It’s flattering.” He says, smirking down at you while you’re still frozen in place. Then he asks you what time your shift is over, and you answer that you’re done in an hour

He tells you to make sure you’re here in 3 hours, that way he can dry off and have a proper conversation with you

You’re left there, confused, wondering if it’s going to be a date or a murder when he returns

[jasvtsc]

dean winchester x angel!reader.

dean had been feeling down for quite some time now. he was quieter than usual, his snarky and teasing comments basically being reduced to zero. he was like a shadow of himself, closing up in his routine.

wake up. coffee. hunting. booze. go to sleep. repeat.

and it was like that over and over again.

like he was dead inside.

you knew he was hurting — as an angel, you could sense those things even though you weren’t sure what they meant exactly. but you were pretty sensitive to them, especially when it was dean who was experiencing such mental turmoil. it was breaking your heart even though it was literally impossible. you were an angel, a celestial being too powerful for a mortal to wrap their head around it.

yet you were sad when your favourite human was suffering.

it didn’t suit him. and you didn’t understand why he had to go through so much. in your eyes, he was just this precious human who was dealing with all your questions and things you were curious about. he was there for you. and you wanted to be there for him.

which is why you decided to cheer him up a little. you wished you could take all his pain away, double it and give it to the next person (coughs john winchester), but (unfortunately), as an angel, you couldn’t hurt other people. that wouldn’t be good. and you didn’t want to deal with that right now — dean was your main priority.

so you were limited to doing what you did best — healing troubled souls.

however, you weren’t exactly sure how to approach him. he didn’t want you using your powers on him — he thought it was a waste of time, and he didn’t like supernatural forces messing with him in general. even if they were coming from his little birdie. he had some limits.

that’s how you were back at the starting point, sitting in the war room and silently debating what to do.

you tapped your fingers on the table, your lips pursed out as you hummed some song you overheard playing on the radio while returning from a hunt with dean. you learned to love car drivers, especially the late–night ones, with music faintly playing in the back, as you admired the sky and all the stars. dean showed you so many amazing things about humans and their customs. and you just wished you could bring something into his life as well.

you even debated recreating some scenes from his favourite movies. cas told you about them, but you weren’t sure why would dean have to become a pizza man all of a sudden. so that idea was also put in a dumpster.

you couldn’t figure out a single thing you could do for him. with a groan of frustration, you stood up and headed to his room to simply ask what he’d want you to do to make him feel better. that was probably the best idea. he, for sure, must’ve wanted something.

in a blink of an eye, you arrived at his door. you barged in without knocking, as always, and looked around the room. and then, your heart just broke. dean was lying in his bed, his hand draped over his face as he just lay there. you didn’t know for how long he’d been like that, and you noticed that he was still in the same clothes that he’d been wearing three days ago.

yeah, it was bad.

“deano? what are you doing?” you asked softly, nudging his shoulder with your finger. he just sighed and looked at you with those tired, green eyes.

“not now, birdie. just go,” he said, pushing you away. but you didn’t budge, not even a little.

“no. you look like shit. i can’t let you be like that,” as always, you were being a little too straightforward.

“thank you. that’s exactly what i needed to hear, pigeon. i’m being serious, just leave me alone,” his voice grew stern. but you didn’t care. you weren’t about to give up.

“hey, i did that. i left you alone this past week, just like you asked. but enough of that. you went past your limit,” you huffed and basically lifted him from the bed as if he weighed nothing.

at this point, dean didn’t even try to protest. you were an angel. you’d most certainly beat his ass if he started a fight — you wouldn’t tho — you were too sweet for your own good.

yeah, you were doing a good job proving to him that not all angels were assholes. you were his little birdie, and he wouldn’t trade you for the world. however, he knew damn well that you deserved better than him. you deserved someone on your level, someone who’d be good for you — not an old, washed-up hunter with trauma and plenty of issues. he’d just corrupt you. and that was the last thing he ever wanted. you were supposed to stay his sweet angel forever.

you dragged dean to the bathroom and sat him down in the bathtub. you ordered him to take his clothes off, and when he did that, albeit begrudgingly, you filled the tub with warm water.

dean visibly relaxed and closed his eyes, just winding off the pressure he felt on his shoulders those last few days. however, he opened one eye as soon as he felt your fingers treading through his hair, washing it for him.

“darlin’, what the hell are you doing?” he asked, a small smile slowly appearing on his face.

“shush. i’m washing your hair. i think,” you mumbled, biting on your tongue as you tried to wash his hair. he did that for you plenty of times, and you tried your best to repeat those movements for him.

dean chuckled lightly but didn’t say anything. yeah, you were putting a little too much pressure on his head and shoving it from one side to the other — but he didn’t have it in him to correct you. you were too much of a sweetheart, and he knew you were trying your best. so, he’d let that slide.

as you massaged his scalp, he reached for his razor, planning to shave off the scruff on his face. but you were faster and slapped his hand away with a huff.

“huh?” he looked at you with raised eyebrows.

“no. leave that. it looks better that way,” you said matter-of-factly.

and in this exact moment, that characteristic smile of his came up on his lips. he chuckled and ran his fingers through his scruffy cheek.

“you just say that 'cause you love how it scratches your thighs,” he muttered lowly, leaning back with a cocky smirk as he obeyed your order.

and you just blushed heavily, clearing your throat.

oh, he knew damn well you absolutely loved the carpet burn.

a/n: sooo surprise!!! it’s not totally emo lol

༄♡ tags: @internetitgirl17 @beausling @deanswidow @deansbite @aileenunfiltered @fitxgrld @figthoughts @angelicp0etry @hrtsoldierboy @titsout4nicholas @a1ecmcdowell

[heesimp]

tasty (teaser) - heeseung

summary: it’s not your week and it doesn’t seem like the semester will ease up on you as time flies by, but your best friend is here to help in more ways than one.

word count estimate: 5.6K (891 for the teaser)

notes: let me know if you want to be tagged :) this is based off of a request an anon sent, so thank you anon! I’ll probably post it tonight or tomorrow. xx

warnings: reader touches herself, porn mentions, vibrator mention, phone sex, oral (f. receiving), dirty talking, mentions of heeseung with other girls, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex.

posted!

Heeseung isn’t shy about physical touch with you or anyone else. He’s the kind of guy girls feel comfortable around with just a few words spoken and you’ve always envied the way Heeseung can talk his way through anything. People love him, girls want to fuck him, and guys want to be like him. There’s a part of you that wishes you could exude the same aura that your best friend does but, unlike him, you cower at any chance of interaction and can’t seem to get anyone to be interested in you the way you’re interested in them. Heeseung has heard your fair share of love debacles whereas it seems like romance is presented to him with the snap of a finger. 

It isn’t that you haven’t had experiences with sex and dating, but they haven’t been worthwhile. So far, nobody has been memorable enough to keep in your backpocket for days like this, when you need a hot and erotic memory to come in an instant. It feels impossible to find guys who know what they’re doing when a woman is presented in front of them. Guys are so lucky because it takes next to nothing to get them hard and get them off. 

And like, your best friend has had his fair share of hookup stories that leave you wetter than a goddamn fountain. He’s not shy about skimping the details because he’s seen you cry snot since kindergarten and you’ve seen him eat shit on bicycles since elementary school. Sex isn’t off the table. You just don’t have anything to contribute and he doesn’t judge you for it. You aren’t really keen on telling him about all of the bad experiences you’ve had when he talks about how mind blowing sex for him is. Part of you is envious that your best friend has never had one bad day of sex in his life. Allegedly. 

Still, this frustration bubbles up and there’s nothing you can do to quell the way you feel. Perhaps it’s a mix of general life stress and the events leading up to this very moment. The entire day felt like a test to your patience as minor inconveniences piled up on top of one another before your breaking point. You thought your vibrator sitting uncharged was your last straw but it seems like your mind isn’t clear enough to focus on getting off. You recall a few unread text messages from Heeseung and open your shared text thread with him and watch all of the funny TikTok videos and tweets he sends you. You’re missing him right now. 

Heeseung answers after one ring. 

“Back from the dead, I see. What’s up?” 

You huff. “Nothing.” You hear him laughing from the other line. The faint sound of his keyboard clicking echoes in your ears. 

“Can’t be nothing. You always call me when you need to tell me something.” 

“Not true.”

“Y/N, you and I both know you prefer to talk on the phone when you have something important you need to say so neither of us ends up sending long voice memos.” Okay, he’s got you there. “So begs the question: What’s up?”

“Well I called you because I’m bored. Happy?”

Heeseung laughs again. You’re sure he can hear your disdain. “It’s a good thing I know how to deal with your attitude, huh? Since you’re bored, I’ll have you know you’re calling me while I’m playing with the guys.”

“What, no girl to hook up with?” 

“Not tonight, princess.” 

“How sad.” 

“If you must know why, I had a pretty long day at work but I’m fine now. Jake’s ass keeps dying so that’s pretty funny.” You don’t say anything, not right away. Not when you realize you called him in a haste and that you’re naked except for a tank stop and dainty white socks. The realization makes your cheeks heat up as you think about it, even though Heeseung can’t see what you’re wearing. “You good? You’re unusually quiet, especially when you give me attitude.” That makes you roll your eyes.

“You know, it’s unfair that all you have to do to get off is brush your hand against your dick.”

“Where’s this coming from? You don’t really talk about sex. Is everything alright?”

“It’s unfair!” He hears you groan in frustration. You’re somewhat annoyed he’s still typing away on his gaming keyboard.

“Y/N…Are you okay? What’s gotten into you?”

That question alone seems to ease your mind a little as your irritation bubbles over the surface. You couldn’t stop yourself from talking even if you tried. You tell Heeseung everything, good and bad, and he won’t relent until he knows you’re okay. But even this is treading into new territory. It isn’t that you haven’t noticed just how attractive your best friend has gotten since you met him for the first time as kids, but it’s the first time you’ve ever acknowledged it while talking to him. 

“I can’t get myself off.”

Your voice is barely above a whisper. You don’t hear the sound of his keyboard anymore.

“What?”

“Heeseung…”

“No, say it again.” 

Suddenly, you’re starting to regret calling him to complain about something like this. You feel like you might as well be diving into the depths of your secrets.

“I can’t get myself off.”

[halfwayhearted]

Heyyy, I love your work so much. Please could you do a Hector Fort x reader, where she meets his friends for the first time and she’s super nervous because she knows how close they are and stuff. Thank you xx

Es Por Ti — Héctor Fort.

Pairing: Héctor Fort x Fem!Reader

Summary: Meeting his friends was a reminder you knew you’d have to face soon. Maybe it wouldn’t end up being so bad.

Word Count: 605+

Disclaimer/s — Nothing! I don’t think!

A/N: I didn’t know who to choose for his friends so… hi… haha. Also, can we get a ‘nervous’ word count because girl fuck 🤦‍♀️

“Héctor—what if I said I don’t think I can do this?”

The boy whips around to look at you, his gaze on you softening when he takes in your demeanor. Your hands are fiddling with each other and your bottom lip is in between your teeth as you stare up at him. Your nervousness is quite palpable!

He gently takes your hands in his. “Hey, I wouldn’t be upset or anything. You don’t even have to meet them now. We can always reschedule. Just say the word and I’ll text them, I promise. But just know I’ll be right beside you the entire time.”

That was enough for you to relax. It was true. He wouldn’t leave your side, why would he? Why would you even think for a second he’d leave you?

“I can do it,” you replied, unsure if it was clear you were trying to convince him more than yourself.

Héctor nods, his lips spreading into a loving smile until his eyes flicker behind you. “Good, that’s good. Because they’re actually walking up to us.”

Your eyes widen and you’re suddenly taking subtle steps behind your boyfriend, whose stupid smile has turned into a full-blown smirk. “What! I couldn’t even—I didn’t—oh, my God. You’re sick.”

“Who’s sick?” A boy questions, making you stiffen and meet his—or rather, their—gaze. You had made Héctor show you their faces and tell you their names so you wouldn’t have to deal with the awkward introductions. Yet, you knew it would be inevitable. “One of you guys aren’t feeling well?”

This one just so happened to be the Pau Cubarsí, along with Lamine Yamal, Pablo Gavi, and Alejandro Balde. His smile widened when you looked at him. “No, we’re fine. It—” you clamped your mouth shut and instead introduced yourself, saying your name. They gratefully did the same.

“It’s nice to meet you. He talks about you a lot.”

That catches your attention and you’re instantly tilting your head. “Yeah? All good things, I hope?”

Pau nods, confirming your inquiry. “Very good things. He can’t shut up about you. Every second, something happens that has anything to do with you or the things you do, and he goes into a rant.”

Now it’s as if a switch has been flipped inside you.

You weren’t even nervous anymore. It was like the emotions you were feeling before had transferred to Héctor, with the way his face reddened and jaw clenched. “Oh! Well, would you want to sit? You guys can tell me all about it. And I mean all of it.”

Balde laughs, clasping a hand on the Fort boy’s shoulder and resting his forehead against it for a split moment. “What did we say? Warned you.”

“Shut up,” he grumbled, following you as you guided them to an empty booth and sat down.

How could you have been nervous not even five minutes ago and now be all smiles? All because he talked about you… all the time. So what if he talked about you? You were worth talking about.

“You coming?” Lamine calls out, his gaze trained on Héctor who purses his lips. “We’re about to tell her what happened during warm-ups last week.”

Oh, boy. Holding in a sigh, he took a seat beside you, resting an arm over your chair while they went on and on about embarrassing moments of the boy. All you did was sneak glances at him and smile when you saw how unamused he looked.

The reasons as to why you were nervous in the first place didn’t really seem like reasons now.

Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated ^_^.

DT(s) — @planetpedri + @spidybaby + @sakashq ! ౨ৎ (THANK YOU! Thank you for requesting!)

[nonsensenook]

Chapter 4 | Lingering Scars, Heavy Sighs

Synopsis: You and Bajie leave The Hollow heavy with separate burdens which you both chose to drown out with alcohol. A continuation of this unapologetic take on you, the reader, accompanying the Destined One on his journey. 

Word Count: 5,035

Warnings: Sadness, Violence (Brief Mentions) 

Author’s Note: A bit heavier of a tone than previous chapters, at least in the beginning. Is it just me or are these chapters getting longer? I thank you very much for your patience, kind words, and I hope you enjoy! 

Requested Tags: @joyfulllittlething, @servamp01, @suntizme

Ch. 1 - Ch. 2 - Ch. 3 - Ch. 3.5 (Optional) - Cont.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Arriving at the Webbed Hollow had you go against a rule you’ve enacted on yourself since you came to this world: try to change the course of the story. You had time to think through your plans again before you and your group arrived at the Village of Lanxi. While smuggled in the chest carried by two pig Yaoguais you were silently deep in thought as Bajie rolled his eyes at the petty gossip the two were exchanging. You could tell he was getting impatient from how often he peeked out from the chest. In your lap was the Destined One in his bird form, cradled in your arms. You absentmindedly pet him as the village came closer. 

You had a chance to alter the course of the future. Maybe some lives can be spared and some stories re-written. After all, your presence is proof enough that things can be skewed off course, at least a little. But no matter how you went about it you couldn’t see a future where things went the way you wanted them to. You couldn’t shake the dreadful feeling that your actions would be in vain. At the same time, you wouldn’t forgive yourself if you didn’t try. 

You had warned Bajie of the dangers that came from trying to trick the ladies of the house. You were careful not to teeter too close to the edge when warning Bajie, cautious of him questioning the knowledge you held and if he were to begin asking questions you couldn’t answer. In the end, you couldn’t give an explanation that justified not going through with Bajie’s plan, at least not one good enough to satisfy him. They needed to infiltrate the Hollow, even if they were seen through. And so, the Weavers Needle landed its mark. You swallowed the bitter taste of failure and carried onward. 

The Hollowed Web was the most perilous of all lands you’ve traveled to so far. Knowing this beforehand didn't change that fact. You were hesitant to jump into it with the Destined One, but there were no other ways for you to continue forward without him. You were grateful that the kindness of the Fourth Sister extended to you as well. She had safely taken you both into the Hollow. 

The Fourth Sister was another one whose outcome you tried to rewrite. Knowing her fate if the Destined One were to continue tearing the talisman made you consider deeply whether or not you should advise him not to do so. You ultimately chose to stay your hand as your companion tore each talisman. You hoped your choice was the right one; that a chance of a future outside of this Hollow was one she’d take even if it meant becoming a captive of the Celestial Court. You wanted to believe in that chance and couldn't make yourself take it away. 

You spent much of the time in The Hollow clinging to the Destined Ones back or having him catch you as you traversed from platform to platform. Your guard and stress were at an all time high as you thought of every possibility while Yaoguais ambushed you from above and below. Nothing was changing. Even when you warned Bajie or the Fourth Sister, everything was falling into place as they should. As the Destined One kept you both alive you worked to think of a way, any way to make just one change. You felt yourself sink further into despair as every moment played out as it had before. Your unprecedented presence had made no difference. 

~

You were silent as The Hollow was left behind. Bajie was the same, both of you were deep in thought, matching the usual energy which The Destined One carried with him. Your gaze was unfocused, your mind elsewhere. Many times you were stopped by the Young Sage from walking into a tree or off a dangerous ledge. His arm would wrap around your waist protectively or his hand would be placed on your shoulder to redirect you. You would apologize to him before sinking back into your stupor. 

Bajie was the same, if not worse. It would take several attempts to get his attention and once he acknowledged you with a grunt his mind would go back to where it was the very next moment. When a hostile Yaoguai appeared on your path, Bajie didn’t even glance at it until he was flung back from an attack. This made him turn into his boar form, crushing the Yaoguai against a tree. When he returned to his usual self, he made no acknowledgement of what happened. He simply kept walking. 

You couldn’t stop wondering how you could have acted differently, how you could’ve guided them from this preordained path. If you have been more clever - if you have figured out a way, then Bajie wouldn’t be mourning. The Fourth Sister wouldn’t have been captured. Five daughters wouldn’t be digging a grave. You clutched at your arm, nails digging into your skin. What use was your knowledge if you could do nothing with it? What use were you to any of them? Your hands ran through your hair as the same question was brought forth. For what reason were you here? 

At some point a fire was started and a blanket draped gently around you. You shook out of your state briefly to look up and see the Destined One stirring something in a pot over the fire. You hadn’t noticed the sun had begun to set. You weren’t even sure when you had even sat down. You looked around and found that Bajie was nowhere to be seen. Looking at the inventory the Destined One laid out you noted some items were missing: several jars of brew and a few pieces of food. You gave a strong guess or two as to what happened to them and Bajie. 

The Destined One produced a bowl and spoon, ladling out hot broth. You watched him walk to you, crouching down to hand you the bowl. You accepted it, but made no movement to begin eating. The Destined One plopped down beside you. You could sense he was troubled as he took the bowl back from you. He stirred the broth once, then filled the spoon half-way before holding it beside your lips. You gazed up at him. 

“I’m sorry for worrying you,” you said. In response the Young Sage bumped his head against yours as his tail wrapped around you. His arm pulled you closer to him as your vision began to blur. “I’m sorry…” you repeated quietly. The Destined One held you knowing that your last apology wasn’t for him. 

His brow was slightly furrowed, mouth tilted in a small worried frown, and his eyes were urging you to please eat. You felt your heart ache. Guilt washed over you as you looked at his expression. You turned back to the food, leaning forward to sip at the broth. You quietly continued to let him feed you. When you asked if he’d prepared any for himself he interrupted your question by spooning you more broth. You swallowed quickly then put your hand up as a barrier.

“I’m not going to eat anymore if you aren’t going to eat at all,” you said. The Destined One stared at you for a beat then took the bowl to his lips. You felt yourself smile a little watching his tail lash behind him. You then obediently ate the rest of the soup. You had him finish off the last spoonful himself then leaned into his shoulder. 

~

You found Bajie at the edge of a nearby lake with a jar of brew in hand. Several jars were already emptied and tossed aside. You sat down beside him as he finished another and added it onto the growing pile. He wiped his mouth, eyes trained on the still lake. 

“What do you want?” Bajie asked bluntly, tearing another bottle open. 

“A drink,” you answered, grabbing a bottle of your own. 

You felt Bajie’s gaze shift to you as you tore the brew open and tilted it back, taking in large gulps of alcohol. You almost slammed the bottle down as you let out a heavy sigh. 

“You don’t drink,” Bajie said incredulously.

“Since when?” You responded, glancing sideways at him. 

Bajie seemed to think for a moment then held out his jar towards you. In return you held out your own drink, tapping it against his. With that small toast you both took a swig from your drinks and sat in silence staring out onto the lake. The last colors of twilight were fading. As the full moon began to rise you watched as fireflies slowly blinked awake. 

You didn’t know what to say to Bajie. No apologies would come without explanations you couldn’t give. Bajie was the same, bound by a similar rule that had you both brood in silence. You thought of the little girl; the youngest of the Spider Sisters. You remembered the expression on her face as she watched Bajie walk away. Again and again everything brought you back into the same loop, the same feeling of helplessness. You felt you wanted to throw something to hear it shatter and break apart. Instead you took a big swig in a pathetic attempt to drown and shut those thoughts out. 

The night continued like this until the moon shone its reflection onto the center of the lake. You and Bajie continued to drink, neither of you stepping from your own worlds. The alcohol was coursing through you. You felt buzzed as the ground swayed ever so slightly. Your mind felt like it had been soaked, half-heartedly rinsed, then left out to dry as the brew washed over your senses. Out of the corner of your vision you saw Bajie turn from the lake and sigh heavily as he closed his eyes. 

“Do you regret it?” the question left you before your mind fully comprehended it. Yet, you didn’t feel any panic once you did. You just wanted to hear the answer. You watched the subtle ripples of the reflected moon as Bajie kept his eyes closed. You thought he hadn’t heard you. A small part of you was grateful, ready to rebuild the broken silence. Then Bajie opened his eyes. 

“A better question is,” Bajie said, picking up a rock and turning it in his hand, “would I do it all again?” 

You stared at the lake, watching the fireflies lazily dancing on its surface. 

“Would you?” you asked. 

“Would you?” he asked right back. 

Your hand went to the scar on your arm. Flashes of memories flipped through your mind. From the moment you fell into this world to now. You thought of all those times your life was in peril, the struggle it took for you to adapt, the fear, the ache of home, the helplessness, and this evolved deep rooted guilt. You felt your hand clutch at your drink harder as your arms held yourself together. Then the Destined One appeared in your mind. You thought of his eyes, his smile, his little mannerisms, his gentle hands, the moments you two shared, his warmth, his fury, his joy, his pain. Him. You thought of Bajie. The stories he’d tell you as you rested. The times he’d fight alongside the Young Sage. The way he cared for you beneath that layer of gruffness. How he’s sitting beside you now, sharing a moment to drink with you.  

“Yes…” you said. 

“Then you have your answer,” replied Bajie. 

Even if this journey ends in pain and tragedy you already knew. If given the choice, you’d choose to do it all again. Bajie makes a sound between a grunt and a hum. He turned the rock once more then tossed it into the lake where it skipped twice disturbing and dispelling the image of the moon. You watched the ripples smooth itself out, sipping from your drink. 

Bajie spoke up, “Your turn,” he said. 

“Hm?” you picked at the grass, becoming more aware of how warm your body had become from the drink. 

“I’m owed a story,” said Bajie. 

You laughed then emptied the last sips of your bottle before wiping your mouth. Your hand went to grab another, humming as you undid the seal on the brew. 

“Have I ever told you about the time I was captured by bandits?” 

Bajie choked on his drink, “Those idiots thought you-” Bajie burst into laughter, hitting the ground as he did so. You could only make out some snippets of what he was saying in-between his cackling. 

“No, but I am not surprised. You attract unwanted dangers like our Master had. Might as well wear a sign reading Free Morsel.”

“Funnily enough, they thought I was your master,” you said, ignoring his quip. 

“They thought-you! A pious monk! Oh yes, I see you are just brimming with virtuosity.” 

You rolled your eyes as Bajie’s laughter settled down to a controllable chuckle. 

“I couldn’t have been this cheeky when I first asked you for a story,” you grumbled. 

“Oh no, you were much worse,” countered Bajie. 

“Can I tell my story now?” 

Bajie tilted his drink to you, “Floor’s all yours, kid.” 

Bajie listened as you recounted the event of your capture. You skimped a bit on the details regarding the argument you and the Destined One were going through. He mumbled about how you were “Just like Master” when you shared how you were caught unawares to be consumed. He seemed to enjoy your description of the rats and their little tussle. He snickered when you told him the lie you had fed them. 

“They really believed that?” 

“I’m still telling the story, Bajie.” 

Bajie seemed gripped as you told him about the rising tensions the group had when they argued on what to do with you. Then came the moment the rat leader opened his mouth to take a bite of you. You built on that suspense up to when the Destined One dramatically appeared to save you which had Bajie grunt. 

“What a surprise,” Bajie said sarcastically. 

You must’ve been a bit too descriptive in how you described the Destined One as he battled the rats because Bajie interrupted you by saying, “Yes, yes the dashing little monkey prince came and rescued you. What happened afterwards?” 

You paused. “Afterwards?” you repeated. You blinked as the events of ‘afterwards’ replayed in your mind. You were grateful your cheeks were already flushed from the alcohol. You cleared your throat, absentmindedly swirling your drink around and feeling there was a little over half of it left. You avoided looking at Bajie. 

“Nothing much, we just continued the journey as usual,” you said casually. 

“Huh, figured the kid wasn’t one to take advantage of the situation.” Bajie commented. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Well, such a romantic rescue usually ends with a kiss at the very least.” 

You froze. You couldn’t tell if the way Bajie was leaning forward out of the corner of your eye meant he was knowingly teasing you or you were just imagining it. Bajie continued, “So nothing hap-” 

You threw your drink back, gulping it all down loudly as some of it spilled from the corners of your mouth. 

“Woah, slow down, kid. You’ll drown yourself drinking that much all at once,” Bajie warned.

You didn’t listen. Tossing your empty drink aside, you grabbed and ripped into another, giving Bajie a brazen smile. 

“Scared I’ll out drink you, old man?” 

Bajie seemed taken aback for a moment then flashed you a grin. He emptied his drink down his gullet, mirroring you in grabbing another. 

“Big words from such an impudent human. You’ll be regretting that tonight,” Bajie said. 

“Such a powerful Yaoguai like yourself s’got more to lose,” you replied spilling a little of your drink as you offered him a toast, “And only tonight, Bajie? No, you’ll be the one regretting this come morning.” 

Bajie snorted, almost crashing his drink against yours. 

“We’ll see about that.” 

~

You couldn’t stop laughing. The ground was constantly moving. The world seemed to take a moment to catch up every time your gaze shifted. Your words were slurring, tumbling over each other. You and Bajie were constantly switching between tearful laughter and heated arguments. All of which were nonsensical. The arguments escalated into petty bets. Who can chug the fastest without pause? Who can throw the most accurately? Who can stack the taller brew tower? Though you won your fair share Bajie was quite ahead in wins which made you challenge him again and again. More and more silly bets came and went. You’d just beaten him in a very fair and not at all skewed agility test when Bajie spoke up, almost tripping over an empty jar. 

“Alright, I know one-one thing. I can summon that kid without speaking a single word.” 

You tilted your head in thought, your drink tilted with you spilling a bit on the ground. You didn’t pay that much mind as you squinted at Bajie. 

“And no using your powers?” you questioned. 

“Not one,” assured Bajie. 

Bajie stumbled over to you and waved you closer like he’s about to share a secret. Without much or really any thought you leaned down. Bajie reached his hand out and flicked you hard on the head. You yelped, clutching your head as you fell to the ground. You went back and forth cursing at Bajie and groaning out “Why.” The answer came when two familiar hands pried yours from your face. The Destined One had been successfully summoned. The Destined One turned your head to examine it. Joy at seeing him sparked back into irritation towards Bajie as you heard him cackling on the ground. Bajie pointed to you, “Take that one back to camp before they drink all my alcohol.” 

“Don’t listen to him, he’s drunk,” you huffed. 

“You’re drunk!” Bajie retorted. 

The Young Sage made to take you into his arms, an offer you’d never thought you’d turn down. In your drunken stupor indignation and stubbornness flared, catching ablaze on the alcohol coursing through you.

“Now it’s fair,” you threw an arm around the Destined One and pointed at Bajie, “As a team we’re taking you down, old man.” 

Bajie guffawed, “You think adding the kid is enough to match the Zhu Bajie?” 

“If you’re too scared now that my monkey prince is here, then go ahead and cut me off,” you challenged. Bajie’s ear twitched. He walked up to the Destined One and shoved a drink into his hand. The Young Sage looked at the drink then at Bajie. 

“Your pre-requisite,” Bajie said slyly. 

The Destined One looked at you still hanging onto his shoulders. You were grinning stupidly back at him, giving him a thumbs up for encouragement. The Young Sage downed the drink in one breath. You watched mesmerized as the drink spilled from his lips and trickled down his throat. You felt something smack you on the shoulder. Tearing away from the Destined One you looked at the ground where a pebble was rolling to a stop. You frowned at Bajie. 

“Quit your gawking, I can see you drooling from here,” said the Pig Guai.

The Destined One threw the empty jar aside looking roguishly, sinfully, and devastatingly handsome as he wiped his mouth with his wrist. You grinned at Bajie who responded with a chuckle, “You’ve got some catch-up to do, Nephew. I’ve got ‘em beat eight to one.” 

“You lying piece of-” 

The games began. 

An outlooker could describe the scene and sound like they’re about to tell a joke. A monkey, a pig, and a human were drunkenly running around near a lake scattering the nearby fireflies and small wildlife. Every so often the human would be yelling at the pig as he shoved more drinks into the monkey’s hand. The monkey remained unphased by the amount of alcohol he consumed and was the only one not swaying on their feet. At some point, someone's mother was being insulted. 

Bajie’s challenges were becoming more ruthless. The beginning was a simple game of rock skipping. Bajie had made an impressive six skips while your own rock sank to the bottom of the lake immediately. The Destined One had picked up a rock without much thought and flicked it across the lake's surface. The rock skipped across the lake, going well beyond six and continuing into the distance. You jumped onto his back with a fist in the air. Bajie was quick to prepare for the next game. 

The Destined One dominated them all. No matter the amount of drinks that Bajie handed him he didn’t seem even the slightest bit buzzed. You saw that he wore a subtle grin;  his tail swayed to and fro as Bajie challenged him again and again. He was fully enjoying himself. You didn’t mind at all that he was carrying you in almost every challenge being much too busy laughing and stumbling around as you cheered him on. Eventually, Bajie threw up his hands. 

“Alright! Final challenge,” Bajie swayed heavily pointing back and forth between the two of you. You were being carried on the Destined Ones shoulders as you switched between drinking and having him drink from the same jar. Bajie had just lost to a simple game of rock paper scissors in which you were the victor. The Destined One had held you up as you laughed victoriously. 

Bajie’s words were heavily slurred as he went back and forth between the line of drunken delight and vexation. Bajie patted around his body then produced a small jade pendant which he almost dropped. Bajie held it up for you and the Young Sage to see. 

“A simple game,” Bajie hiccuped, “of keep away.” 

You watched as Bajie took a few steps back, making some distance between you and the Destined One. Bajie walked into the lake till the water reached his waist. You patted the Destined One gently on his head. He set you down from his shoulders. You knew this one was truly for everything. 

“Five minutes should be enough for you two numskulls,” Bajie said, “Come at me, the both of you!” Bajie tossed the pendant up. You followed its trajectory as it ascended, readying yourself to dash towards it. Beside you, the Destined One did the same. In slow motion, your eyes followed the pendant as it descended. In the next moment, you watched as a catfish met it halfway and swallowed it. The very same catfish fell back into the lake with a small plop, disappearing below the surface. You stood there, staring as the ripples of the lake smoothed out again. It took you too long to comprehend what just happened. For a moment, you and the Destined One stared at the silent, unmoving lake. In the next, you were wading through the water calling Bajie a list of colorful names and terms which this world had yet to hear. 

You addressed the Young Sage. “Any fish-like transformation in your arsenal?” you asked, already knowing the answer. The Destined One shook his head. You kicked at the water in vain. As sudden as it came, you felt your anger douse itself out. That little cheater. You couldn’t say you wouldn’t have done the same if you were in Bajie’s shoes. Or would it be hooves? 

You laid back onto the water, mindlessly floating about. You let yourself swear at Bajie one more time with a smile as you swore revenge. Fireflies flew in and out of your sight. The moon was outdoing itself tonight as it shined brightly in a sea full of twinkling stars. A familiar face appeared in your vision. The Destined One looked down at you as your head bumped against his leg. 

“I’d ask you to join me, but I’m not too sure if you float,” you said. He seemed happy enough to simply watch you.

After five minutes, Bajie appeared bursting from the lake shaking off excess water onto you and the Destined One. You stood up to glare at him and give him a splash back. He tsked at you. 

“Hey now, it’s a bad look to be so sore after losing,” Bajie chided. You flicked water at him defiantly. Bajie ignored the little water droplets you pelted at him. 

“As winner,” he continued, ignoring your jeering, “I declare you both cut off from drinking anymore of my alcohol and you shall call me King Bajie the Unparalleled from now on.” 

“We’re not doing that,” you said then sneezed into your elbow. Your drenched clothes clung to your body as the Destined One scooped you up into his arms, ignoring how his own clothes were getting soaked. 

“Yes, take that insolent human away, Nephew.” said Bajie in a haughty tone, waving you both off. 

You opened your mouth to reply, but ended up sneezing again. The Destined One turned away quickly, wading out of the lake to get you onto dry land. You turned to Bajie, ready to counter him with an insult. Your tongue stilled as you looked at him. Where Bajie was just standing, a young man now stood watching you both leave with a forlorn smile on his face. He was tall, handsome, with an almost exalted air surrounding him. As the fireflies blinked in and out around him, he turned away from you, his long dark hair shrouding his face. You didn’t dare blink, not even when the trees and foliage began obscuring your vision. You watched as the young man looked up at the moon, turning that little jade pendant in his hand.

~

You were snuggled in the Young Sage’s arms as he carried you back to camp. A blanket of drowsiness wrapped itself around you. Cut off and kicked out, you finally felt the exhaustion of the day catch up to you. Looking up through half-lidded eyes, your hands went to trace the Destined One’s face. Dreamily, you brushed through his fur. 

“It’s so soft,” you said as you scratched the back of his head. He leaned into your hand then tilted his head this way and that to make sure you get every good spot. 

You laughed, “You are adorable.” 

The Destined One blinked. That was a newer compliment. You knew it was one you typically kept to yourself, but you didn’t care. Your inhibitions had been washed away, perhaps abandoned at the edge of the lake a drink or two ago. In this moonlight, underneath the sky dusted full of stars the Destined One looked much too- “Handsome,” you said out loud. The Young Sage seemed surprised, but fully embraced your sudden praise with a smile. You kept them coming, his subtle joy at your words pushing you on until you were babbling. You talked about how fun tonight was, you wondered if he’d ever gotten drunk, then you would double back to complimenting him again. His eyes, his smile, his hands, that tail of his, everything about him you flooded with shameless praise. The Young Sage looked close to laughing. 

You couldn’t make out the details of anything. The world was an unfocused blur on an unfinished painting. The only thing clear to you was him. You smiled wistfully, looking into his eyes. 

“You know, before I came here I-” a sudden wave of nausea hit you. You covered your mouth as you felt yourself salivate. The Destined One quickly put you down where you braced yourself against a tree and emptied your stomach. The Destined One steadied you with a hand on your back. You felt sick and dizzy, no longer able to open your eyes without the world spinning out of control. The next instances came in snapshots: being cleaned up, changed, asking for water, groaning, more vomiting, more water. You fell asleep curled up next to the Young Sage, clutching at his robes while he combed his hands gently through your hair. 

~

The next morning, you woke up feeling dehydrated with a throbbing headache. You squinted in the light of the sun, catching your pig guai companion fairing the same across the way. Both of you groaned as the consequences of your actions produced an unforgiving hangover. 

The Young Sage was just fine, you could make out his fuzzy shape warming up in the distance with his staff. He’d left a little kettle beside the embers of a dying fire already heated and ready. You forced yourself up and poured a cup of hot tea with shaky hands. Bajie stayed where he was, but continued his lament of groans as he tried to cover his eyes from the sunlight. He hadn't made it to his bedding last night which sat unused only half a foot away from him. You placed the steaming cup near Bajie, his ear twitched as it followed your movements. You poured yourself another cup and took a sip, shivering as the hot liquid coursed through you. 

Bajie slowly sat up, taking the drink you’d given him. He took a sip and shivered as he closed his eyes. 

“Thanks, kid,” Bajie said. 

You gave him a small hum in response. Birds were greeting you with their chorus as a warm breeze blew through your hair. The Destined One returned, sitting beside you and handing you breakfast already prepared. You looked at him as you held your pulsing head. Your memories after leaving Bajie were hazy and jumbled, as if someone wiped at the pages of your mind while the ink was still drying.

“Did I say anything weird last night?” you asked. 

The Destined One tilted his head in thought. He gave you a small, almost indiscernible, mischievous smile and shook his head. You probed him more as that tail of his flicked back and forth. The Young Sage took your cup and sipped at it, remaining unmoved as you pestered him on what you could’ve possibly said. Bajie, with eyes still closed, spoke up, “Silence,” he said, “The Unparalleled King Bajie commands it.” 

A passerby could describe the scene that happened afterwards and sound like they’re about to tell a joke.

[naughtyneganjdm]

Love's Second Chance: A Holiday Reunion - Chapter 2

Summary: To distract herself from her loneliness, Y/N throws herself into helping the town finish decorating for Christmas. Since her divorce, Tommy has joined her every year since to help. A minor mishap leads to her running into someone from her past.

Characters: Negan Smith, the reader (OC), Tommy Miller, Joel Miller (mentions), Maria (mentions), etc.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/60501985/chapters/154591387

Warnings: Swearing, angst, depression, sad discussions, etc.

Notes: As promised, I will be posting this story three times a week on Monday, Wednesday and Friday. So, yeah! Here it is. Thanks to those who take the time to read it! There is no Joel in this chapter, but he is talked about a lot. Credit to gif @jdmorganz

It was gut-wrenching waking up to an empty house during Christmas time. Silence was not something that Y/N was used to. Being alone was hard enough throughout the normal part of the year, but during Christmas? It was the worst. Y/N would be lying if she said that it wasn’t getting to her. Depression set in pretty heavy during the holidays when the children were with Joel. Distractions were the only way to make it through. Because sitting in an empty house not having someone to share her time with hurt. And it hurt a lot. That’s why when she could help out around town, she happily did. That way her mind was busy and she didn’t think about the loneliness that ate away at her.

For a few weeks she had been helping to put up the decorations around their small hometown. It was something she had been doing ever since she was a kid, so it just stuck with her. With Christmas only a few weeks away, they were desperate to finish everything off to have everything prepared for their most popular festivities and Y/N was there to help them.

Although, this morning she was a bit late because she had to pick up Tommy to come help her. Every year since Joel and Y/N separated, Tommy always made an effort to come help Y/N when she worked on the decorations. Sometimes she thought Tommy did it out of pity, but she wasn’t going to turn down the extra help. Truthfully? She liked having the company too.

“I don’t know how you always have the energy to do this,” Tommy yawned from where he was standing below her holding onto the ladder that was there. Things would have been done faster if Tommy was helping in other places, but last night there was a storm that came through that made things incredibly slippery. So having Tommy holding onto the ladder kept her safe. “Even after the coffee I feel like a zombie.”

“Maybe if you would have gone to bed earlier, you wouldn’t be so tired,” she teased him, stealing a quick look down at him. His head tipped to the side and his big brown eyes seemed so innocent in the moment. “Staying up all night and then expecting to wake up in the morning with little too no sleep doesn’t work so well when you get to your thirties.”

“Hey,” Tommy frowned when she mentioned his age, wrinkling his nose in frustration. “We don’t have to go there with the age thing. I can handle being up all night.”

“Every time I listen to you talk, I question if you are my children’s age,” Y/N pestered Tommy hearing him scoff from down below. Working to put the lights up, she was very careful and heard Tommy yawning once more. “Then again, you do spend a lot of time with my children and they say that you start acting like the people you are around most often.”

“Then I should be grumpy and energetic at the same time,” Tommy suggested with an amused expression when she looked down at him. That was a slam on Joel and she knew it. It was nice that sometimes Tommy although appreciating his brother’s love toward him could be candid about Joel being grumpy. “Can I be honest with you?”

“You always have been,” she moved down the ladder to help Tommy move it before heading back up to start on the next area.

“I was questioning coming here today. I thought about canceling,” Tommy admitted, brushing his fingers through his longer hair, slicking it back. Grasping tightly to the ladder after, Tommy took a look around and sighed loudly. “But then I remembered a promise I made to you a very long time ago and I intend to keep it.”

“If you didn’t want to come Tommy, you didn’t have to,” she assured him, letting out a strained breath when she reached a little too far and almost fell over. Bracing herself again, she realized that she was thankful he was here because this would have been impossible without him. “You don’t have to keep doing this if you’re no longer interested.”

“Oh no. I’m happy doing it. I like spending time with you,” Tommy insisted with worry in his tone. Tommy’s southern drawl was actually thicker than Joel’s so some of his words came off a bit silly making her smile. “That’s not it at all. You just were right about me being up all night. It’s strange how much y’know me.”

“I helped raise you,” she reminded him with a tiny laugh. “I’d be worried if I didn’t. So what were you doing all night?”

“Honestly? A few weeks ago, after a long night of working with Joel, I stopped into the town diner,” Tommy stammered, his fingers curling tighter around the ladder. A warmth flooded into his face with what he was about to tell her. “It was pretty empty in there, so I sat at the counter. A few seats down was this girl. And we got to talkin’…a lot. After that? We’ve been meeting there every day since. At the same time and everything. Talking all night long. So that’s why I almost cancelled on you. I didn’t want to though, so that’s why I’m here.”

“That’s great Tommy!” she assured him, wanting to give him encouragement with what he was telling her while still focusing on getting the lights up. “I’m glad to hear that.”

“Thanks, but…” Tommy’s words came to a quick halt, an uncomfortable sound escaping his lips. “I reckon this sounds ridiculous, but I’m nervous. See I think she’s amazing. Beautiful. Funny. Smart. I think she’s the woman of my dreams.”

“And what’s the problem there?” Y/N wondered, moving down the ladder again to stand before Tommy who looked uneasy talking about this. “Tommy?”

“Well, I’m me. Everyone in this town knows that I’ve had issues,” Tommy reminded her of his past and the problems that he went through with his mental health. Especially after his parents died and after he came back from the war. “People get into everyone’s business here and I’m a mess. I’m not a good match for anyone.”

“That’s bullshit,” she immediately corrected him, stepping forward to grab a hold of the jacket that he was wearing. Pulling him closer, she stroked her hands over his jacket and heard him laugh. “You’re Tommy Miller. The man with a beautiful soul that wants to do his best to save the world. You’re kind. You’re strong. You’re willing to fight for those who can’t. You have the biggest heart. It doesn’t matter about your hardships. Plus? You have the best hair I’ve ever seen.”

“You had to throw that last line in there,” Tommy snickered with Y/N brushing her fingers through his curvy dark locks. “Sometimes you really do feel like my mother Y/N.”

“A part of me feels like I am. Just minus the whole birthing you thing. I adopted you when I was eighteen, Tommy,” she reminded him, teasing him by grabbing his cheek and giving it a firm squeeze. It had his already reddened cheeks from the cold blushing over more. “So I think I know more than anyone. Other than your brother of course.”  

“I still feel bad that you were forced to do that,” Tommy frowned, reaching out to wrap his arms around Y/N to pull her into his arms to give her a big hug. “You were still a kid yourself.”

“So was Joel when he did it, but it didn’t matter. We were a family and we were going to do whatever it took to keep you safe and with your family,” she reminded him, patting him on the chest knowing that with Joel, they went above and beyond to raise Tommy right. “You know I love you.”

“And I love you too,” Tommy promised her with a wink, looking back over his shoulder again as if he was in search of someone. “Which is why I can open up to you. Joel is not very good with all this stuff. It’s hard talking to him. I usually just get a grunt here or there. And I don’t think he’d be happy with me liking this girl.”

“I think Joel would be glad that you found someone that makes you happy,” she suggested, moving the ladder again with Tommy. “Your brother just isn’t very good with romance. He hasn’t been for a while. Confrontation makes him uncomfortable.”

“The moment the two of you got divorced is the moment I stopped believing in true love,” Tommy confessed to her with a frown. It had her chest aching and she gave him a weak smile. It was sweet to hear that, but hard to believe. “I never thought the two of you would break up.”

She didn’t know what to say. She just pat Tommy on the shoulder and gave him a wink. Moving back up the ladder, she heard Tommy muttering something to himself before speaking up again for her to hear, “You know Maria?”

“The mayor’s daughter?” she looked down to confirm with Tommy who gave her a small nod. “You have a thing going with the mayor’s daughter?”

“Well, it’s not a thing. It’s just, well…I don’t know what to call it,” Tommy slurred, tipping his head from side to side. “We’re talkin’? I guess that’s the best way to put it. But I’d really like it to be a thing. She makes me feel things I didn’t know I was capable of feelin’.”

Considering what he was saying, she understood why Joel might be upset with Tommy being in love with Maria. Tommy got in a lot of trouble when he was younger. And the mayor was not always the kindest to Tommy. There was no doubt that Joel would be worried that if something happened with Maria and Tommy that the mayor would go out of his way to make an example of Tommy.

“Ya see why I’m nervous?” Tommy grumbled under his breath, slightly kicking at the snow.

“Well, the mayor has never really been your biggest fan,” she reminded Tommy who let out an uncomfortable breath. That statement made him more ill at ease and she hated to do that to Tommy. “Tommy, it’s not the mayor you are in love with. It’s his daughter. His adult daughter. If you like her and you want to make something more out of it? Do it. Life is short and happiness is rare. So if you can capture that happiness? Go after it. It’s Maria’s life we’re talking about. Not her father’s.”

“So you think it would be okay for me to ask her out on a date-date?” Tommy inquired making sure to keep the ladder steady when Y/N moved back down it. “You don’t think she would say no? I mean with her father hating me all those years…”

“Tommy,” she got him to focus on her after his eyes had wandered around a little bit. “You are a catch. You are one of the most loving people I have ever known. And you’re telling me this girl is already meeting you every night at the diner. I feel like maybe she already thinks there is something there. Because if she didn’t? She wouldn’t be showing up every night.”

“You think?” Tommy went from looking uneasy and self-conscious to having a smile spreading out over his young features.

“I know,” she gave him a wink feeling the sensation of her phone vibrating in her pocket. Pulling off her glove, she tucked it under her arm and dug inside of her pocket for her phone. Lifting it up, she managed to block out the sunlight just enough to see that it was a text from Elizabeth. Opening it up, she saw that it was two photos of a Santa photo session that she had taken with Joel and Peter. The first one was all smiles and the second was the three of them doing crazy faces while Santa looked scared. It made her smile, but at the same time, it hurt. They started having fun with the photos after Joel divorced her. It was like he was making up for the fact that they were no longer together. Without warning, her phone was pulled from her hand and she felt a breath catch in her throat. “Hey!”

“What is it?” Tommy moved around until he could see the screen to see what it was that had made her unhappy. It had Tommy frowning and he looked back at Y/N to see that she was still upset. “How did I know it had something to do with my brother?”

“It’s nothing,” she tried to dismiss that it was a big deal, but Tommy knew better. “I don’t know, Tommy. It’s just hard seeing those sometimes. That was something we used to do together, but now that’s his thing with the children.”

“Why don’t you ask to be part of it?” Tommy reasoned with her, handing her back the phone. Sending Elizabeth a sweet text, she pushed her phone back into her pocket and shrugged. “It’s only right. You’re their mother.”

“Joel made it clear that he didn’t want that after we got separated,” she explained, pulling her glove back on when she swallowed down hard. “And I respected that. It’s just hard because at first Joel was great with it. You know that. You were in our photos until you were eighteen. But the last few years of our marriage he would always…”

“Bitch?” Tommy finished for her. Reflecting on what Tommy said, she nodded her head. That’s not the words she would use, but it summed it up perfectly.

“He hated doing that. But as soon as we were divorced? He went out of his way for it to be special and fun. It’s his thing now even though I’m the one that started it,” she pointed out, separating the lights better so it would be easier for her to put them up. “I know I shouldn’t be jealous or have my feelings hurt, it’s just hard not being part of something anymore.”

“That’s not how things should be,” Tommy frowned, trying to help her with the lights after seeing her struggling.

“But it’s how they are,” she knew there was no changing it. Over the last four years? This was just the way things had ended up.

“Joel should really be here helping you,” Tommy suggested to her with a shrug of his shoulders. “It was his thing with you. Ever since you were kids.”

“You know he hated this more than he did the Santa photo,” she half laughed and Tommy rolled his eyes. “It was worse getting him out than it is you. And by the time he got here? He let everyone know that he didn’t want to be here. He always helped people out around town, but he let people know that he didn’t like it.”

“Grumpy would probably be the definition of Joel Miller over the last few years,” Tommy spoke up with a half-smile, reconsidering what he actually said when he thought about it. “Maybe decade?”

“Don’t let him hear you say that,” she pat Tommy on the chest and gave him a playful wink.

“Ah, he knows I say what I think all the time. It’s a habit when you’re a Miller,” Tommy retorted, his smile expanding out over his features. “We really have no filtering system.”

“Yeah,” she contemplated what he was saying. Thoughts of the night before flooded her mind which had her getting curious. “Elizabeth said that Joel and Tess broke up a while ago. How did that happen?”

“Yeah, it was…nasty,” Tommy explained, his eyebrows bouncing up showing the tension in his face. When it came to Joel’s love life, she tried to avoid talking about it. Most of the time it upset her. But hearing that they weren’t together anymore? That actually piqued her interest. “I was actually surprised it went so bad because I thought Joel would eventually get married to Tess,” Tommy was rambling off, but quickly stopped when he saw the color drain from her face. “I just mean, they seemed to be really into each other. They were really hot and heavy. I think Tess kicked Joel’s ass a lot when they had sex. He’d walk away with marks a lot of the time. Some nights it was like…”

“Tommy, I really don’t want to hear about Joel’s sex life,” Y/N held her hand up to stop Joel’s younger brother from continuing.

“Of course you don’t. I’m sorry,” Tommy apologized profusely, visibly embarrassed that he let it get that far. “I was just saying. They seemed like a pretty tight couple. The only problem was, Tess wanted more from Joel and he just wasn’t willing to give it. It was the same things I heard from you when you fought with Joel. I guess he never called her his girlfriend. Never told her that he loved her. It’s like Joel turned off his emotions completely when it came to relationships. He’s cold. And that’s what I heard from both you and Tess. She accepted it for a while, but as you know, you can only take so much of being with someone and being lonely before you give up.”

Hearing that made her wonder if she should have felt bad for Tess. Part of her did, the other didn’t. This was the woman that Joel ended up with almost immediately after they got divorced. So for her? It felt like a win, but then again? She knew how hard it was loving Joel. Especially when you got nothing back in return.

“One day, she just picked up and left. Never came back,” Tommy elaborated, his big brown eyes locked on hers. “Joel barely reacted. I thought he would be more bothered over the fact that she left, but he didn’t say much. They fought all the time though. A lot of passion came from Tess, but Joel was muted. Tess was a ball buster. Joel definitely has a type. That’s for sure.”

“I was more of a ball buster when we were younger,” she chuckled at Tommy comparing her to Tess.

“Right. Because my brother made you his bitch,” Tommy blurt out and immediately his hand covered his mouth with a loud slap. Worry flooded his features. He was horrified with what he said. It took a minute for him to gather himself before he slowly lowered his hand. “I am so sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. I swear to God.”

“You’re not wrong,” she implied, knowing that she could have been mad, but she wasn’t going to be. “I just became a mom and a wife after a while. I lost a lot of what made me…me.”

“You were always special, no matter what stage of you that you were,” Tommy tried to make up for what he said, but the damage was kind of done. It wasn’t that she was mad at him, she just knew that he was right and that bit hurt. “Joel I think likes to be dominated. He likes to be told what to do. He’s had to be in control for so long that he just wants someone to…”

“Again, I don’t need to hear this,” she cut Tommy off wondering if he was going back into explaining Joel and Tess’s sex life with her. “Joel was always a very dominant person with me.”

“Maybe when he was younger. After he lost everything, I think he just wanted something…I don’t know,” Tommy seemed confused with how to describe his brother. “He had everything and more with you. I don’t know how he didn’t see that. I know you still love him. I don’t know how he could be so stupid. You just wanted him to fight for you sometimes…”

“Tommy,” she paused his train of thought, her chest hurting when she thought about how she felt for Joel. “Your brother has no interest in me. Even when the children talk about the two of us together, he’s quick to shut them down. He doesn’t love me anymore. Your brother hasn’t loved me for a very long time.”

“I think he cares about you,” Tommy slurred, his eyebrows furrowing when he tried to make light of the situation. “He…” there was a pause where Tommy was clearly trying to think of something to make her feel better. Waiting, she realized that he wasn’t coming up with something and she nodded. “I don’t know, Y/N. Joel is weird.”

“Don’t worry about it Tommy, one day this whole thing will get easier. Just, not yet,” she informed Tommy, moving back up to work on the lights again. There was a strong gust of wind that sent a chill throughout her whole body. The ladder wiggled a bit and she looked down to make sure that Tommy was holding onto it.

“Hey,” Tommy blurt out, his eyes now locking on something in the distance when he hesitated, letting go of one part of the ladder. “Maria is over there. Do you think that I should go ask her out on a date? Like a real one?”

“Of course, just give me…” she started only to see that Tommy was swiftly moving away from her while she was trying to finish with the lights that she was putting up in that specific spot. “Tommy!”

Another strong gust of wind filled the air and she realized she needed to get down. This wasn’t going to work. Trying to move down the steps, she felt the ladder slipping out beneath her and attempted to grab onto anything. It must have been the ice that it was slipping on. Even in her best efforts not to fall, her body fell backwards. The only thing for her to fall back on was hard cement. In Tommy’s haste of being excited to ask out the woman he was interested in, he left her to undoubtedly get injured in her fall.

“Jesus,” she gasped, expecting the ground to break her fall only to be surprised that someone caught her before she did. The sound of the ladder hitting the ground was loud, but thankfully she wasn’t hurt. Her adrenaline had just spiked, her heart hammering inside of her chest from the fear of it all.  

“Not quite,” a deep raspy voice pulled her attention away from the ladder. A breath caught in her throat at the familiar set of hazel eyes staring down at her. The strength of the arms squeezed around her and suddenly she felt more comfortable than she should have. “Fuck, I’m back in town ten minutes and you’re already falling for me?”

“Negan,” she whispered, taking a moment to gaze upon the man that her family was talking about only the night before. His long eyelashes fluttered, a small smile tugging at his handsome features when he gave an arrogant bob of his head. “Why are you here?”

“That’s it? Why am I here?” Negan’s nose wrinkled, the sound of amusement coming from his voice. “No thank you for saving my life? You’re my hero Negan?”

“Thank you for saving my life,” she rolled her eyes which was followed by Negan snorting. Carefully he lowered her back down to her feet, still keeping his hands braced over her shoulders to make sure that she was okay. “Tommy just fucking ran away and the wind knocked me down.”

“You really shouldn’t be the one up there doing that anyways,” Negan grumbled under his breath giving the whole set up a scrutinizing look. “This town was always so eager to get up the best of their decorations that they didn’t care how it got done. Tommy should have been the one going up and down. Not you. It was dangerous as it was.”

Silence followed. Y/N was staring at Negan. It had been an extraordinarily long time since she had seen him. The last day she saw him was likely his graduation. Of course she had seen him on the television, in magazines or at the occasional games that they took the children to, but never up close. It became obvious that she was staring at him and she felt a warmth flooding her cheeks.

“God, I’m sorry. I’m staring,” she apologized trying to force herself to look away when Negan’s smile grew twice the size. Arrogance flooded his handsome features with his dimples becoming more prominent knowing that she was locked in on him. “I just can’t believe you are here. It makes me think that I hit my head and I’m imagining this.”

“So if you were dying, you think I would be the person that you would conjure up to help calm you?” Negan rambled, giving her a wink when she groaned out. That was completely like Negan. Nothing much had changed. He just got older and grew a short beard. “I mean, it’s a good thing to picture right before you die. I think a lot of people would do that too.”

“The ego is still strong in you,” she poked at his chest which drew out a deep rumble of laughter from his throat. Almost instinctively, her hand reached up to press in over the side of Negan’s face feeling the coarse hairs of his beard underneath her fingertips. The last time she saw Negan, he had no facial hair. His face wasn’t nearly as chiseled as it was now. There were no lines in his face. Now he kept himself incredibly groomed whereas in the past he would often let his hair grow to the point of slicking it back out of his eyes. Back then he was a boy. Now? He was a man. And a very good-looking man at that. Time had done well for him. He was cute and charming when they were younger. Now? He was incredibly sexy and made time his bitch. The only thing that remained the same were his very prominent dimples that always charmed her. Just now they took her breath away with every big flashy smile he gave her. “God, you look so different.”

“And you look exactly the same,” he gave her a wink, mimicking her hand movement to brush his thumb in over her jawline. It had a chill flooding through her veins and she gave a weak smile. Maybe this was a poor reaction to seeing this man again for the first time. It was too forward. Blunt. But this was someone that she had been so close to in the past standing right before her again after so many years.

“I’m sorry. I was looking at photos of you yesterday so this is just weird for me,” she lowered her hand from his face seeing the intrigue that flooded into Negan’s features. “I don’t mean that in a weird creepy way. I know it sounds like it is. My daughter and her friends just have the biggest crush on you. And it was weirding Joel out. He mentioned us being good friends with you when we were younger and she didn’t believe him, so he was showing her pictures…”

“Ah, Joel Miller. How is the husband doing?” Negan stammered, dragging his hand away from her, taking a firm step backwards. Getting a good look at Negan now, she realized that he was dressed in mostly black. He was wearing black boots, a black pair of slacks and a long black coat that covered most of his chest. It just revealed a black sweater that he was wearing that had a white undershirt beneath it giving it a slight contrast of color. Pushing his hands into his pockets, Negan’s dimples immediately drew her attention when he smiled.

“Well,” she considered what to say next feeling her throat tensing up. Why wouldn’t she be honest in this moment? Lying to Negan would do nothing for her in the long run. “He’s not my husband anymore. We’ve been divorced for three years and separated for four.”

“Oh,” Negan’s lips parted, his mouth turning into a small o-shape as if he felt bad for saying it like that. The charismatic attitude was soon replaced with empathy and that surprised her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know that.”

“Why would you? There is no reason for you to apologize,” she refused to have him feel bad for that. Lifting her hand she showed that she was no longer wearing her rings and shrugged her shoulders. What could she really say? She wasn’t about to have a meltdown about it in front of Negan. So instead she tried to blow things off with a joke. “Divorce is the number one killer of marriage.”

“Right,” Negan snorted, his head lowering in amusement. Just the sight of his smile caused her heart to skip a beat. How was it that his dimples were even more attractive now than they were when they were young?

“What about Lucille?” she questioned noticing the way that Negan’s eyebrows bounced up, his Adam’s apple tensing in his throat when he gazed her over. “I know the two of you were married since my daughter knows…a lot about you.”

“She uh…she passed away,” Negan paused, his face tensing up when he reached for something around his neck. Pulling it out from beneath the shirt, Negan stepped forward and she realized that it was a necklace. At the bottom of it were three rings. Immediately she regretted her joke and felt horrible for asking. Mortified would be an understatement. “Cancer. The second leading cause of killing marriages.”

“Jesus Negan,” she felt immediately embarrassed seeing the way he shrugged his shoulders. Now she regretted making a joke. There was some color that flooded into his face and guilt started to eat away at her. “I feel like the biggest fucking asshole in the world right now. I am so sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Negan hushed her, lifting his right hand to wave it about. “You didn’t know. I don’t know how much you pay attention to things. I tried keeping my private life, well, private. Fucking tried at least. I was never really very public about my life. So maybe your daughter didn’t even know. And I shouldn’t expect you to know because we haven’t talked in so fucking long. We’re pretty much strangers.”

“Shit,” she felt terrible for everything and just wished the world would swallow her whole right now. “I wish I wouldn’t have said what I did. It’s the first time I’ve seen you in so long and I made an ass of myself. In multiple ways.”

“Fuck, don’t worry about it. I’m just happy that I was walking by just at the right time to catch you,” Negan gave her a wink, and in that moment he noticed that she looked worried. “What is it?”

“You’re hurt. Your knee,” she pointed down and it had an amused expression flooding into Negan’s features. “I probably just hurt you more by having you catch me. I can’t believe…”

“Some knee pain is better than watching someone I knew and cared for smashing their skull against the cement,” Negan stepped forward to place his finger in over her lips to silence her worries. Shaking his head, he gave her a wink before letting out a long sigh. “I’m back in town visiting my mother for the holidays. It’s my second Christmas without Lucille and my mother thought it would be for the best if I came home to see my family for the holidays. And with me being injured, I thought it would be a good idea too. Come home. Rest it out.”

“That makes sense,” she acknowledged, not saying much because she didn’t want to make an ass of herself again. Things felt strange now as she rocked on her feet in front of Negan. All she could focus on was just how good he looked. Suddenly she felt very out of place knowing that she just kind of rolled out of bed this morning. “I guess I should let you get back to what you were doing. I don’t want to keep you tied up all day.”

“Well, I got here early,” Negan stated with a tip of his head, looking beyond them to see the coffee shop that was in the distance. “How about you and I get some coffee together? We can catch up a little bit before I have to head to my mother’s place?”

“I mean,” she looked back at the lights that were kind of just dangling there still. Right now she really didn’t feel like climbing back up that ladder again after almost dying. “Sure, that would be nice. Coffee sounds good.”

“Ma’am,” Negan held his arm out, a small snickering sound fell from his lips when she accepted his arm. It was as if Negan had picked up on the fact that there was a small sheet of ice over the ground and he was trying to help keep her from falling. Again. Once they got to the coffee shop, Negan held the door open for her and she was impressed with the chivalry. The only problem? When Negan entered the coffee shop, the few people that were in there went a little nuts upon seeing them. Immediately people were drawn to him and she understood why. Negan was a celebrity. And not only that, he was a hometown hero celebrity. So she took a step back while people asked for selfies with him and let it happen. Eventually he ordered his coffee and reached for her hand to pull her up beside him. “Go ahead. I’ll pay for this.”

“You don’t have to do that,” she denied at first, not wanting to seem like the kind of person that would take advantage of him. But the glare Negan gave her? She knew that one well. So she gave in. Placed her order and let him go ahead with wanting to buy her one. When the barista came back with their coffees, Negan attempted to pay, but she pushed the drinks forward to them insisting that they were on the house. With that, Negan left what he would have been paying in the tip jar and led Y/N toward the back of the coffee shop where there was a table that was hidden for them to have some privacy. “Wow, that was…”

“Intense. I’m sorry,” Negan shook his head, apologizing over the fact that people interrupted them by asking for photos. It seemed to have embarrassed him that it happened in front of her while they were together.  

It should have been something that he was proud of. Having people look up to him like that? It was a good thing. Not a bad one.

“No, don’t apologize. You worked hard for all of that. Soak it in,” she stated with a firm shake of her head, surprising him that she wasn’t at all upset about the whole thing. “It’s nice just getting to see you Negan. There is no reason for me to be upset. It’s been a long time.”

“I’m sorry about that,” Negan apologized again. It was strange how many times he had already done that since she had first seen him. And there was nothing to keep apologizing for. Stroking his hand across the top of the table, Negan seemed tense until he started speaking up again. “I have to be honest with you Y/N, I’m surprised to see you here. No one wanted to leave this town more than you did. You had dreams of the big city. I remember you wanted to travel the world, photograph it all and you wanted to be a big-time journalist.”

“Yeah, well, life has a way of making you realize that what you want isn’t always what you’re going to get,” she declared which seemed to have Negan biting at his cheek. There was an expression in his eyes that showed he had sympathy for her and she didn’t know if she wanted it. “When I had Elizabeth, the plans kind of changed. I’m just…I’m someone who does data entry at home. I get to work remote and sometimes I have to go into the office, but rarely.”

“And Elizabeth is your daughter?” Negan confirmed having Y/N nod, stroking her fingers over the paper coffee cup that her drink was in. “How old is she again?”

“Seventeen,” Y/N felt old telling Negan that, but her answer made him smile and nod. “I also have a son named Peter. He’s thirteen.”

“Peter,” Negan repeated the name, his smile expanding out over his features. “Elizabeth and Peter. Well, Joel certainly picked out those names, didn’t he?”

“What do you mean?” she half-laughed watching Negan tip his head from side to side considering his next comment.

“Well, I remember growing up what you wanted to name your children if you had any. Elizabeth and Peter were not any of the names that you wanted,” Negan recalled which had her dropping her head, a small smile tugging at her lips. Of all the things that Negan remembered, she didn’t think something like that would be something he kept with him. “What?”

“I just can’t believe you remember those conversations,” she claimed, her heart fluttering a bit that Negan still remembered so much about her. “But yeah. Those were names that Joel picked. It’s suits them though. Joel calls Elizabeth Ellie. He always has. She’s of course getting to the age where she wants to be called…”

Seeing that Negan’s attention was locked on her had her sighing loudly, “You don’t want to hear about this. I’m sorry. I’m just a boring working-class mother. I’m not interesting. At all. I wish I had the life that I wanted when I was younger so I could impress you, but I don’t.”

“Don’t say that,” Negan hushed, reaching out to place his hand in over hers. The warmth of his touch was very much welcomed, even though she didn’t know if she should be taking it or not. “I think you’re very interesting. And I’d love to hear about your children. It’s been a long time. I don’t expect you not to talk about your life to me after this long.”

“It’s just a little embarrassing to basically tell you I got pregnant the year after you graduated,” she suggested feeling the sweep of Negan’s thumb over the back of her hand. “You went out, became this huge celebrity and followed your dreams. I got pregnant at seventeen, had my baby at eighteen and I’ve just been doing my best to keep my head over the water.”

“You’re embarrassed by that?” Negan wondered seeing her shrug and he could tell that it made her uncomfortable. “Being a mother is the hardest job in the world. If you are capable of doing it? I think that’s impressive. So don’t be embarrassed. You’re not going to get me looking down on you. Ever.”

“Thank you,” she cleared her throat knowing that she felt small sitting before the man she used to consider her best friend. “I did call you a few times. Well, a very long time ago. I understand why you didn’t answer. You were busy and…”

“I should have answered,” Negan interrupted her, his thick eyebrows furrowing showing that he was disappointed with himself. “I’m sorry.”

Silence followed, her eyes looking down to see that Negan’s thumb was still caressing over the back of her hand, “I missed you.”

Something changed in Negan’s expression. He lowered his head, his fingers squeezing tighter to hers before he shrugged, “I missed you too.”

“It’s hard going through life without your best friend,” she suggested feeling a bit emotional knowing that she never really understood what happened to have Negan drop her so quickly in the past. Especially after all they had gone through. “I’m so proud of you though. You accomplished everything you wanted to. Rookie of the year? MVP how many times? You’ve done amazing, Negan.”

“And it’s all coming to an end,” Negan frowned, looking down toward his knee knowing that even though he still felt like he was capable of so much more, his body wouldn’t allow for it. Lifting Y/N’s hand up, he pressed a kiss over the back of her hand and gave her a wink. “Thank you though.”

They both went quiet. It got very serious there for a moment and Negan picked up on it when he reached with his free hand to grab his coffee to take a sip, “So what happened with Joel? I remember he got a full ride to college for the football.”

“Oh, he uh. He had to turn it down. His parents died during the summer in an accident. He had the choice of letting Tommy go into foster care or staying to take care of him and he stayed. Then I got pregnant with Elizabeth and it just didn’t work out for him,” she told Negan about their lives knowing that it was nowhere near as interesting as his life. “He just took on his dad’s business and became a contractor. He runs the business and Tommy works for him. I was a stay-at-home mom for a while until I could go to night school at college to get my degree and then my friend from college got me a job that I’ve stayed with until this day. We’re both worried about Elizabeth because she scares the hell out of us. She’s almost the age I was when I got pregnant, but she’s…she’s smarter than me. And safer. And I don’t think she’s dating anyone really. She seems to be attracted to older men, which isn’t good, but, it’s not bad either because then it means that she’s not going to get pregnant like I did and…”

Damn. She was doing it again. She was rambling. But by the look on Negan’s face, it wasn’t upsetting him. In fact, he looked enamored with her. A rush of warmth flooded into her face and she laughed, dropping her head down, “God, I’m sorry.”

“Stop,” Negan demanded with a raspy laugh himself. “I don’t mind you talking to me. It’s okay. You don’t have to think you’re talking too much. We’re fitting like, what? Nineteen years of missed time in here. So I don’t mind.”

“I know, you just are the more interesting one and here I am talking your head off,” she chastised herself which had Negan smiling. “You probably have better things to do than listen to me go off about my family and my children.”

“I don’t. And this is better than anything else I had planned,” Negan tried to suggest, squeezing her hand again reminding her all over how he had been holding onto her hand this whole time. But she kind of liked it. “I’ve picked up on the fact that your daughter has good taste. You love your kids and Joel is…an idiot.”

“Why is that?” she was amused to hear Negan say that.

“Because he’s not with you,” he countered quickly which had her feeling a sense of awe over him saying it. “I really thought the two of you would be together forever. Knowing that you’ve been apart for four years? That surprises me.”

“Well, life happens,” she didn’t know what else to say. She wasn’t about to vent to Negan just what it was that had her marriage crumbling down all around her. That wasn’t something he needed her to dump onto his lap as well. “We just became different people.”

“Hmmm…” Negan looked her over before shaking his head. “You seem still very much like you.”

“Minus the fire,” she thought aloud, noticing the way his eyebrow arched.

“Nah, that fire is there. I see it. Maybe it’s just hidden behind a few walls, but it’s there,” he winked hearing her chuckle beneath her breath before shaking her head. “Don’t think so poorly of yourself. You were always one of my favorite people Y/N. Don’t sell yourself short.”

“Negan goddamn Smith,” a voice boomed, shocking Y/N when she pulled her hand back and away from Negan who made a shocked expression looking to the side. “I thought that was you, you asshole.”

“Tommy fucking Miller,” Negan got up slowly from his seat, walking across to accept a hug from Tommy. “How are you doing brother? It’s been a long time?”

“Not as good as you,” Tommy leaned back, smacking playfully at the side of Negan’s face making him snort. “Look at how much older you look.”

“Hey now, you may have the same face, but you don’t look like the thirteen-year-old I last saw either,” Negan joked, pushing into Tommy’s shoulder. Lifting his hand up, he swirled his fingers into Tommy’s long hair. “Look at you pretty boy. Growing up into a man and everything.”

“I see Y/N found you and snatched you up,” Tommy followed Negan back over to the table, a big smile tugging at his features when he sat in beside Y/N who suddenly felt out of place. “Shit Negan. I can’t believe I’m seeing you. The big-time sport’s star that everyone in this town loves.”

“Well, I am retiring,” Negan reminded Tommy who rolled his eyes and scoffed. “I am!”

“Come on,” Tommy threw his hand up hearing Negan sigh loudly. “You are one tough son of a bitch. I’m supposed to believe that you aren’t going to nut up and just keep going?”

“As you said, I’m getting old dickhead,” Negan winked hearing Tommy burst out into laughter. There was amusement in Y/N’s features and when Negan noticed it, he gave her a big smile. “I was just catching up with Y/N here and she was telling me about the kids.”

“Did she tell you what a saint she is?” Tommy stressed, reaching out to wrap his arm around Y/N to give her a big squeeze. “This girl adopted me at eighteen. Had a baby of her own but took care of fifteen-year-old me to make sure I had a good life at home. She’s an amazing girl. A great mom and she bakes like you would not believe.”

“Oh yeah?” Negan’s interest suddenly was taken. Placing his hand over his chest, Negan made a dramatic expression. “I myself love to cook. So if someone has that same passion? Well, I’m immediately interested in learning more.”

“She’s a magic worker this one. Makes the best sugar cookies I’ve ever had,” Tommy declared with another big smile, squeezing her uncomfortably close to his chest. “I always tell Joel what an idiot he was for letting her slip through his fingers. If it wasn’t creepy, I would have gone for her because she is so special.”

“Okay Tommy. You’re laying it on thick,” she found amusement in the way that Tommy was describing her, but he didn’t care. He just gave her a small nudge with his shoulder before going back to talking with Negan.

Quickly Tommy got to talking to Negan about baseball and Negan answered his questions. Listening to them was amusing. She did actually know what they were talking about since Joel, Elizabeth and Peter all loved baseball. But instead of adding to the conversation, she just sat back and listened. Finding it cute that the two of them were eager to catch up.

After a while, Tommy looked to Y/N noticing that she was just sitting there listening to the two of them, “I reckon I just hijacked your conversation, didn’t I?”

“I’m loving it,” she stated with a small smile hearing Negan snorting and she shrugged. “I was talking too much anyways.”

“Not enough in my opinion,” Negan gave her a wink, his nose wrinkling in amusement. Taking a sip of his coffee, Negan got more comfortable in his seat and bit down on his bottom lip. “I know you know sports just as much as the boys do.”

“Yeah? So? Let Tommy get his time in with you. The boy looked up to you growing up,” she reached out to pat Tommy on the chest having his cheeks flushing over with warmth. “We’re both happy to see you, Negan.”

A vibration pulled her attention away from the two of them. Digging into her pocket, she saw that it was Elizabeth calling her and it made her sigh, “Give me a minute boys. My daughter is calling.”

Getting up from the table, she noticed that Negan’s hazel eyes followed her across the coffee shop as she made her way outside to answer her phone.

“Hey sweetheart,” she leaned back against the brick wall, letting out a long sigh. “Those photos you took looked really nice. It looks like you had fun.”

“It wasn’t so bad,” Elizabeth claimed, her young voice flooding from Y/N’s phone. “The guy they have as Santa this year is from the next town over and he was a lot of fun. I wish you would have been here with us to take the photo.”

“Me too,” Y/N was honest with her daughter. She missed doing those things as a family. It made her feel extraordinarily left out. Rosita had suggested to her in the past that she should also do photos with the children for Christmas, but part of Y/N assumed that Joel would get upset because that was his thing with them. Especially since they used to have fights like that in the beginning of their separation.

“That’s kind of why I’m calling you,” Elizabeth spoke up, taking time to explain to her mother what was on her mind. “Dad decided that we should go to that old village we used to go to when we were younger. You know the one that does the Christmas event with the fireworks? My friends were going to it and I thought it would be cool to go too.”

“Oh, that’s great honey,” Y/N commented feeling a sense of jealousy hearing that. That was another thing they did as a family. The place that Elizabeth was talking about was a place that her, Joel and Negan all worked at when they were younger to make cash on the side. So they were always going to that Christmas event with the children. Although, the last two years of their marriage, Joel had been working late on a project that had him missing it so they hadn’t really gone in over six years. “I’m glad to hear that your dad is taking you. When are you going?”

“Tonight. But, dad spoke to the guy in charge who still remembered him. So he gave dad a bunch of free tickets. We both get to bring a friend,” Elizabeth continued on, “but we have one other ticket and dad said I should call you to ask if you wanted to go.”

“Is that something your dad really wants?” Y/N inquired, surprised to hear that Joel wanted her to be involved with their Christmas activities since the previous years he made sure to leave her out.

“Well he’s the one that suggested it mom,” Elizabeth declared with a sigh and it had Y/N shifting on her feet. “Both Peter and I want you to come. This goes back to the whole being a family again thing. At least, this is the closest we can get to it being like the old days again.”

“You both begged your dad, didn’t you?” Y/N insisted hearing the silence that followed and it made her smile. “That’s a yes.”

“Well he didn’t say no,” Elizabeth pointed out with a dramatic tone. “He’s the one that insisted I call you right now so you can prepare to come with us tonight. Dad will pick you up at five, okay?”

“Yeah, okay,” Y/N smiled realizing that she wasn’t about to really be given a choice, but ultimately her choice would have been the same. She missed being with her family for Christmas, so it wasn’t like she was going to turn it down. “I’ll be ready to go by five.”

“Perfect,” Elizabeth seemed happy and excited on the other end, which was a good thing in Y/N’s mind. At least her children still wanted to spend time with her and that’s what mattered the most. “We’ll see you then. Make sure you dress warm. It’s supposed to snow tonight.”

“I will,” Y/N assured her daughter having a warmth flood her body knowing that she wouldn’t be alone tonight. The idea of going to this actually made her happy. Too often she got used to being alone, but it didn’t feel good. Now she had something to look forward to in being with her children. “I love you honey.”

“Love you too mom,” Elizabeth got out before they ended their call.

As Y/N was pushing her phone back into her pocket, she saw that Negan was walking out of the coffee shop and once his eyes locked with hers he gave her a big, charming smile.

“Got sick of Tommy?” she teased with Negan stepping before her. Having Negan leaving the coffee shop that quick shocked her. Especially since they wanted to catch up and they really hadn’t done much of it.

“Not at all. There were some people that asked for photos and then the mayor came in,” Negan pointed back toward the coffee shop. Hearing that made Y/N wonder how Tommy responded and she looked to the door to check if Tommy was coming out. “The mayor asked me to go somewhere with him to take some photos, but Tommy is talking to him right now so I figured I would find you before you could run off.”

“Well, you found me,” she gave him a half smile causing Negan’s eyebrow to arch in amusement. Disappointment flooded her veins knowing that someone else was taking Negan away from her being able to catch up with him. “What’s up?”

“I want us to spend more time together than this,” Negan announced pointing toward her pocket where she just put her phone. “I was hoping that maybe you could give me your phone, I’ll put my number in and then in two days you can let me take you to dinner. That way we can actually have time to talk. Just the two of us.”

“That’s something you want to do?” she thought aloud, almost blurting it out. Holding his hand out further, Negan waited for her to give him her phone. Obeying, she placed it in his hand drawing him to smirk. Damn, there were those dimples again. “I’m sure you’re going to be busy. You don’t have to take time for me.”

Working with her phone, Negan put in his number and then sent himself a text so he would have her number on his phone. Holding her phone out to her had Y/N accepting it and Negan cleared his throat, shifting his weight from his heels then toward the tips of his toes.

“I want to take time for you,” Negan informed her, a muscle at the corner of his jaw flexing. Hearing that actually made her happy. “I’m glad that we ran into each other.”

“Technically, I fell into your arms,” she reminded him and it had his deep raspy laughter filling the air.

“You’re not wrong,” Negan agreed, biting down on his bottom lip. Reaching back, he stroked his fingers over his neck and shrugged. “When we have our dinner, don’t be afraid to talk to me this time. I’m still Negan. Not much has changed.”

“So much has changed,” she refused that statement with a shake of her head. Parting his lips, Negan looked like he wanted to say something more, but stopped himself. A single nod from him told her that he wasn’t going to bicker with her about it. “But I will try to relax.”

“Good, because I want to listen to you talk,” Negan clarified how he felt about things, his Adam’s apple bouncing in his throat. “We used to stay up all night talking about things. And those are the days that I miss. I’d like to bring a little bit of that back into my life again.”

“I’m sure your life is filled with very interesting people,” she guessed, realizing how small she probably was in comparison to the other people that he knew in his life. It was safe to say that her self-esteem wasn’t the best right now. So selling herself short? That was something she did quite often as of the last few years.

“But none of them are you,” Negan stressed with a nod of his head. Stepping forward, Negan lowered down. Pressing in closer to her, his lips deposited a kiss against her cheek. Closing her eyes tightly, she realized that the gesture lingered. The warmth from Negan radiated against her flesh and it took her breath away. It had been so long since someone had showed her any kind of affection. Backing away slowly, Negan’s eyes gazed over her and she felt her heart skip a beat with how close he actually was to her.

“Negan,” the sound of someone calling out to him broke their attention on one another. Stealing a glance back over his shoulder, Negan feigned a smile when he realized that it was the mayor calling out to him. Looking back to Y/N, Negan felt guilty that he was taking off on her so quickly. Backstepping toward the mayor, Negan hummed to himself and pointed at her. “I’ll pick you up at eight the night we go out. And I’ll send you a text just to remind you. So you don’t forget.”

“I’ll see you then,” she responded with a shallow breath still feeling the sensation of his kiss over her cheek. When Negan left, Y/N watched Tommy push open the door of the coffee shop. He looked panicked as he headed back over toward her. “If it isn’t the man that almost killed me today.”

“I…what?” Tommy was at a loss for words when she folded her arms out in front of her chest. Even though she was happy to see him interacting with Negan like he was previously, she was still irritated with him for taking off on her earlier. While it didn’t end badly, it sure as hell could have. “You almost died?”

“I would have likely ended up in the hospital with brain damage if Negan hadn’t caught me,” she recalled and it had Tommy’s dark eyes growing wide. Her getting hurt wasn’t even a thought for him when he left earlier. “You left when I was on the ladder and it slipped.”

“I didn’t even think,” Tommy swore reaching out to place his hands in over her shoulders to try to comfort her. “I’m so sorry. I just saw Maria and I wanted to talk to her so bad.”

“I hope you at least asked her out? Because then me dying almost feels like a waste if you didn’t,” she huffed and it had the beginning of a smile tugging at Tommy’s features. By the expression over his face she could tell that he was happy which meant he did get that date. “That’s my boy.”

“I’d love to take credit for it,” Tommy moved in beside her to hook his arm around her shoulders, “but she asked me first. I was trying to ask her, but when I ran into her I think she picked up on my nervousness. We’re going to be having dinner tonight.”

“A woman that takes charge. That’s exactly what you need,” she joked with Tommy, reaching out to grab his jaw to give it a playful squeeze. “I’m going with Joel and the kids tonight to that Christmas event at the old historical village we used to work at. So we both need to get those lights up.”

“You’re going out with Joel and the kids tonight?” Tommy seemed shocked to hear that. And really? She didn’t blame him. There had been such a big wedge between her and Joel for so long that them actually spending time together with the children sounded strange. “Maybe Joel is getting his shit together after all.”

“I think the children begged him,” she wasn’t so certain that it was as much Joel wanting her there as much as it was the children irritating him to ask her. “But I’m glad I’m going because it gets lonely at night without the children there. I can only bother Rosita so many times before Siddiq gets sick of me stealing his fiancée.”

“This is a good thing,” Tommy led her back toward where they were last together noticing that the lights were just hanging from the building and he frowned. “You’re gonna make me go up there now, aren’t you?”

“I sure am,” she nodded toward the ladder hearing Tommy groan in response. “But don’t worry, unlike you, I’m not going to run away the second I get sights at something more interesting.”

----

Tags: @chainsawsangel @fancypeacepersona @violent-darkness @negansbestie @elegantfanficluv

@sanctuaryforthelost @dead-of-niight @dilfsandmartinis

[meanbossart]

First of all, I love the though you put into the Drow’s personality and how it affected/ affects his behavior pre and post tadpole.

Secondly, I have a question. You have mentioned that Durge is extremely monogamous when it comes to romantic partners. Is that also true to some degree with his friendships? Like does he feel a “destined” connection to Shadowheart? Also, did he have any friends at all pre tadpole?

Thank you so much! And YES, absolutely, and you might be one of the first people to point out how his approach to relationships does in fact extend to her as well.

While DU drow places his companions in different boxes, he does believe Shadowheart and Astarion to be essential pieces of his life in the same way, even if they fulfill very different roles. He feels a similar degree of responsibility over them both as well as holding the belief that, even if they were to grow apart as people, fate would continually bring them together - interestingly enough though, I think he feels more divided about Shadowheart being "stuck" with him than he does so about Astarion. Probably because he sees how, despite the connection they have, she has developed towards a slightly different direction. They are still friends, they still have a lot in common, but Shadowheart probably has the capacity to be slightly more... Well-adjusted than DU drow is. I think this is a silent but awkward understanding between them that they don't know how to approach, or solve.

That was a whole lot of rambling, but to try and put this thought down more succinctly: yes, DU drow believes his friendship with Shadowheart is a work of fate, he also does not believe he has the ability to forge that connection with anyone else. Unlike his relationship with Astarion, though, he feels a little guilty about this from time to time (and it's worth nothing how he thinks of himself just as irreplaceable in her life as she is in his).

Pre-tadpole, he had a close-but-definitely-no-cigar situation with Gortash:

While he is undoubtedly a better friend to Shadowheart, I could make the case for very minor parallels between the above and the early days of their friendship, before Shadowheart allied with the Night Song of her own volition and gave up on becoming a Dark Justiciar.

Otherwise, DU drow had no friends. The only people he willingly spent time with for leisure were Orin and Gortash: everyone else were pawns, servants, or acolytes.

[mc-lukanette]

Taking her talent online, ultimately, had been the way Marinette felt she could play to her strengths without worrying about her weaknesses. Commissions had been helpful as a side job while she made a name for herself, and following that came a proper channel to run and make money off of. She did a little bit of everything, from sewing to designing to color theory and tutorials for how to do it all.

One of the best parts about it was the anonymity of it all, as she could keep her face hidden and no one would question a thing. It meant that no past publicity she had ever gotten as Marinette - particularly those from celebrities - mattered, and she could build herself up based on herself and nothing else.

Not having to talk to people was a bonus. When she did "talk" to others online, it was through instant messaging, and the Marinette who stammered through every word was far less likely to come out when she had to type things out and voluntarily send it afterwards. Even better was knowing that it was harder to be lured in by a pretty face speaking pretty lies when she wasn't face-to-face with them.

It was just about perfect. Sure, she still lived alone as an adult, not having someone to call hers, but she wasn't lonely and she did have someone in a sort of vague way.

I saw your video. That wasn't fair. I was planning on relaxing today and now I can't put my guitar down.

Like she was a schoolgirl all over again, Marinette had to step away from her computer and collapse onto her bed, kicking her legs out and giggling to herself.

She didn't know his name or face, but she'd heard his voice and creative ability. He was another channel like hers, though not a competing one as he made music rather than other creative ventures. From what she'd gathered over their messages to each other, he was like her where he found public fame to be a hassle and preferred being able to simply put himself out there quietly.

Their "relationship" had started with - appropriately - creativity itself. She'd been looking for something to listen to and found herself drawn in by the same faceless presentation that she had as well, going from one of his songs to the next until she'd blown through his entire channel. She got inevitably inspired and made a video where she made a dress based on one of his pieces, which he'd seen and made a video back at her with music piecing together the emotions one of her designs had invoked in him.

She tried not to let herself get carried away, telling herself that he'd done it out of obligation or thanks, but creativity didn't lie. She didn't know anything about music or the details of making it, but she could feel it when she listened to what he'd made: he meant every note he played.

Talking to each other over instant messaging started up from there, and she'd be lying to herself if she said she didn't find it the slightest bit romantic. The videos inspired by each other continued, like love letters to the other's talent, and they weren't shy about praising each other directly through their messages either.

He was the kind of guy she always wished that she'd had in her life: direct while not being overbearing or abrasive. Too often, she'd find herself trying to decipher the vagueness in people's words or question how much she could take out of them. He didn't leave room for that.

He was also, as she'd discovered only a month ago, totally single and lived in New York like she did. The former had been through some idle Q&A while messaging each other, but the latter was what she'd parsed out from some of his music: just enough was taken from landmarks or notable aspects of it that he had to be living there.

She stayed up some nights, dazed with thoughts of how close they might be to each other. Would she walk down the street one day and hear his recognizable style playing from a window he'd accidentally left open? Or had they passed each other on the street dozens of times and hadn't realized? She'd grown content in knowing that her social interaction in her offline life had greatly diminished due to her online job, but it was different with him.

The worst part was that she knew she could just ask him if he felt the same and would get an honest answer. All it took was working up the courage.

Heading back to her computer and looking over his message for the twelfth time, she smiled to herself and typed out her response.

Oh no. I'm forcing you to create more. Now you'll get even more of all the attention you deserve.

Her heart raced even after she'd sent it. He brought out a side of her that was much bolder than she was normally, and she liked it. Sometimes she caught herself twirling a strand of her hair or caring about how she looked as if he could see her and it was almost like a game.

A blush-inducing game.

I know. Terrible. But seriously, you're really something. I didn't know if my message would come through the music when I wrote it, but you caught everything. Either I'm a musical genius, you're a genius music analyst, or both.

She laughed at the idea that she would be some sort of music connoisseur, sampling his tracks like fine wine to determined their meaning.

You're definitely a musical genius. Just don't let it go to your head or you won't be able to find room to hide your face in videos anymore. Besides, you being so humble is one of my favorite things about you.

She hesitated before sending the last message, wondering briefly if she was coming on a little strong. Friends could casually talk about the traits they liked in each other, right?

Assuming they were friends, anyway. She supposed they'd never really put a name on it.

His next reply took a few seconds longer than she would've expected for its length.

It's hard to pick favorite things, but I've always admired how much you try to make everyone happy. You reply to so many comments, you're always listening to them, and I can see how hard you're working to make something entertaining.

He noticed? Well, of course he noticed - it was him - but she rubbed her pink cheeks at the thought that he'd been paying that close attention to her. She couldn't judge or anything as she put just as much effort into keeping an eye on him, but he was a special case.

Did he do that with everyone? Could she afford to ask, maybe with a little "haha" at the beginning to keep it casual?

Before she could start typing out some experimental responses, she noticed that he was typing again and kept still.

I hope you're putting just as much effort into making yourself happy too, whatever your happiness is.

She held back a squeak even though he wasn't there to hear it. The way he'd always worry about her was precious, like when she hadn't posted any videos in a week and he immediately asked if anything was wrong or she needed a break. He was just that kind of person, caring for all people generally but prioritizing those he was close to; it sounded standard, but he would've easily told her to not care in the slightest about her viewers and just be ruthlessly selfish if it was for the sake of her personal happiness.

It reminded her of love interests in stories at times, specifically the ones who would act neutral or cold to all others but treat their special someone extra special.

Swallowing down the feelings in her throat, she focused on responding to him.

Whatever my happiness is? Even if that's a person?

It was a joke more than anything else to lighten the atmosphere she'd caused in her own room. Maybe he'd crack some line about stealing someone away for herself.

Though, looking over the message again, she realized the ways he could take it. She chewed at her bottom lip, wondering how she could deal with it if he told her honestly that he was fine with her going after anyone. It wasn't as if she'd feel like he'd been leading her on, but they'd grown to a level of closeness where she hoped their relationship wasn't strictly friendly.

He finally responded, but she granted that time felt like it was creeping along painfully slowly while she'd waited.

Yeah. Anyone at all.

Her heart sank. So he was fine with anyone, meaning—

Including me.

Heat climbed up Marinette's neck. She stood, so quick that she nearly knocked her chair over, and ran right back to her bed to start punching her pillow. The screech she let out was entirely involuntary, a desperate attempt by her body to get out all of the emotions those two words had given her.

He could've left it at "anyone," which technically included him anyway, but he made sure to single himself out so she would know. Direct, just like she'd always asked for, good for her head and wonderfully bad for her heart. Knowing that he wanted her to pursue anyone at all, even beyond him, for the sake of her own happiness, somehow just made him more attractive.

And she didn't even know what he looked like!

By the time she'd finished beating up the pillow that had done nothing wrong, she frantically ruffled her hair and scratched at her scalp whilst trying to sort her thoughts. She looked like a mess by the end, someone who'd just gotten out of bed, but she didn't care. She knew she couldn't leave him on read, so she hurried back to the computer to reply to him.

She took a long, deep breath before sending it out, thinking to herself, Here we go...

You make me happy.

The heat climbed higher and she covered her face with her hands, rifling through her memories to figure out when she'd gotten so utterly embarrassing. He wouldn't mind, she was sure, and if it really bothered him then he'd probably give her an out so they'd never have to talk about it again.

She hoped he didn't.

The signature notification sound - the plucking of an electric guitar - played twice, alerting her that he'd responded. She peeked through her fingers to read.

You make me happy too. I want to meet you.

"AHH!" she screamed, impulsively slamming her fists into the keyboard. A mess of letters got sent to him as a result, but that about summed up her thoughts more than anything she could've possibly typed out.

He wanted to meet her. She made him happy too. Her heart fluttered fast and pleasantly in a way that only he could cause, even with the anxiety that came with that. She still wasn't good at offline socializing, and instant messaging had been all of their interactions barring videos they made for each other. What if her full self put him off?

Another two messages popped up.

I couldn't stop myself from saying that. There's no pressure if you don't want to meet up. You can just tell me honestly how you feel. You won't upset me, I promise.

Honestly? She shut her eyes for a moment in an effort to calm herself. The fact that even he - whose relaxed voice never raised once in any of his videos - couldn't help impulsively messaging for a meet up was promising, so she couldn't dare give up the opportunity.

She just couldn't, and she forced herself to type her honest opinion on the matter.

I want to meet you too.

It wasn't directly a promise to see each other, she reminded herself. They didn't set a time or place, even though they shared a state and timezone so it wouldn't have been that difficult to plan. Their shared careers meant that they could easily match each other's schedules, but nothing had to be set in stone right then.

Yet, in all her conflicting emotions, she looked forward to the mere idea.

[us3rnam3-r3dact3d]

the world (it burns through me)

Chapter 8

Ao3 | 3.5k Words | Darlin's POV

Quinn does show-and-tell. Angel sleeps fitfully. Darlin' (nearly) commits homicide. Sam pulls them away from the ledge. David sets foot on the scene.

TW: Threats, home invasion, injury, blood, sexual trauma, implied physical abuse, threats of rape, non-consensual filming of sexual acts, general Quinn bullshit.

Quinn Fox looked exactly the same as he had when you’d last seen him four months ago, sans being beaten within an inch of his life. His skin was still so pale it was nearly translucent, dotted in a handful of places by beauty marks. He still wasn’t adorned by any of the shitty tattoos that you were, that he had put there, that he claimed to love so much. What few he had peaked out from the sleeves of his pristine leather jacket, perfect and new and costing a fucking fortune. His blue eyes were still so pale that he had to squint in Max’s warm light. His teeth were still sharp and too many and nicotine stained. He’d go in for a bleach session next time he was in L.A.. 

“My precious thing,” he rose from his seat and tossed the paper napkin he’d spread in his lap to the ground, waving away the server casually. You watched her face drop as she turned away and retreated towards the counter, where the guy behind it was staring outright now. You’d only have a few minutes before they had enough of Quinn and kicked you out. It was a familiar countdown in the back of your mind. Nearly everybody had enough of Quinn eventually. You’d gotten the timing down to a science. 

“Don’t call me that.” You hissed. He reached out to you, one nimble hand with perfectly painted, black nails and bulky rings. Your mind supplied the feeling of those rings crunching across your cheekbones. “And don’t fucking touch me. Sit down.” You huddled into the booth, arms locked around your middle. There was still blood on your jacket from the last time you’d seen Quinn. 

“So touchy, Precious.” Quinn said, floating back down into his side of the booth. Sam sat down quietly next to you. His eyes flicked across Quinn quickly, almost casually. You watched him categorize Quinn’s skinny jeans, bought with rips and wear already sewed in, his Nirvana shirt, a band you knew he’d never listened to. God, he was such a fucking poser. You couldn’t fathom what about him had ever been enticing to you. “I implied you should come alone, you know.” He sneered towards Sam. 

“Yeah, well, the last time I was alone with you, you put me in a fucking coma, so…” you shrugged. You felt Sam’s eyes slip to you. That was a little tidbit you’d neglected to share with him. He’d have questions later on. You swallowed down the urge to deny them before he even asked. Instead, you brought one hand down to rest against his thigh, your fingers twisting up his uniform pants hard enough they would wrinkle. 

“True,” Quinn laughed, not even bothering to be decent enough to hide his glee. His eyes moved to Sam. “I assure you, they gave as good as they got, Sammy. Or- do you prefer ‘Captain Collins?’”Quinn grinned, his mouth pulling just a little too far on either side. You thought you were going to fall out. Behind that grin, that delighted twist to his stupid face, there was a familiar anger. He’d had that look about him when he put cigarettes out on your skin. He’d had that look about him when he’d fucked you so hard and hateful you couldn’t move for two days. “I was expecting the other one, Precious. Big, scary Captain Shaw. He’s a much better frame to hide behind.” 

“They ain’t hiding.” Sam spat. “And you’d be so lucky to be staring down Shaw instead of me.” 

“Is that so, cowboy?” Quinn laughed. It was a rasping, shrieking sound, like a predator barking out before it struck. Your hand tightened on Sam’s thigh. 

“It is.” Sam said. “David Shaw is a good man. He wouldn’t hurt ‘ya without cause. But I am not a good man.” 

“Whatever happened to ‘do no harm,’ Doctor?” Quinn cocked his head to one side. 

“I’m not a doctor anymore.” 

“Quinn,” you snapped, demanding his attention. Those bright eyes stuck on Sam for a moment longer. You slammed your phone down on the table. The photo of Little Shaw shone up at the three of you, accusatory. Sam gasped audibly when he saw it, going stiff. Quinn flicked his eyes down at it and laughed again. “What the fuck do you want?”

“That was almost too easy, you know?” He rested his chin atop his folded hands as he stared down at the picture. “I just had to pick a day when the good Captain was working the night shift. It’s so convenient that he takes you with him everywhere. I almost wish I had sent you this instead.” 

He produced his own phone and laid it on the table next to yours. It was newer, nicer, and the screen was giant. The big screen exposed a shaky video of the Shaw’s master bedroom from an angle you hadn’t seen yet. If you had to guess, it was through a crack in the closet door. Your stomach flipped as you leaned in close. Sam mirrored your posture. The camera panned from the plush, carpeted floor and towards the softly lit bed, on top of which Little Shaw was spread out, their phone in one hand and the other free. They were wearing one of David’s D.F.D. tee-shirts, which swallowed their frame like a robe. You watched as their hand trailed from the hem of the shirt and lifted, exposing their thighs, their waist, their fluttering stomach and chest. Sam cut his eyes away immediately, but you didn’t move until the audio kicked in. Little Shaw let out a moan, Quinn’s phone cranked up to top volume. Heads swiveled towards your booth. You slammed your hand down on the phone, fumbling for the volume button as you snatched it and tucked it close to your chest. 

“You fucking freak.” You hissed. You couldn’t even manage to be surprised, just vaguely nauseous. He was in the fucking closet. How long had he been in there?

“They rest so fitfully when the good Captain isn’t home.” Quinn mused, inspecting his nails. “I had to hush them back to sleep a handful of times to make sure I wasn’t caught. Nothing a quick cuddle couldn’t fix, of course.” 

He had touched them. You were going to commit homicide. 

“Quinn,” you growled through clenched teeth, “step outside.” 

“Darlin-” Sam started, grabbing your wrist in an attempt to ground you. You didn’t care if he wrapped his arms around your waist, if he pressed kisses to your temples, if he fucking took you right here in this booth in Max’s; no firm touch or soft word could pull you back down now. Quinn had touched them. He had filmed them in a vulnerable moment and then held them while they slept. All while David was fussing over you at the 10-19. You had distracted him. You had drawn his attention away from the people who really mattered and then delivered danger to his literal fucking bedroom. 

“Fuck you, move!” You shoved Sam hard, hard enough for him to stumble out of the booth and into the guy from behind the counter just as he came to interrupt the fight that was brewing in his dining room. 

“Captain Collins,” the guy said, catching Sam as he got his footing. You forgot how well known the 10-19 was on this side of town. You’d be surprised if Sam wasn’t a familiar figure to every person who worked here, and you’d dragged him into this. “Are you alright?” 

“I’m fine, Guy,” Sam said, and go fucking figure, a literal pizza Guy. “We’re just leaving.” Guy’s gaze flicked from Sam to you to Quinn and back again. Sam must have given him a reassuring enough look, because he stepped aside. You surged up, knees shaky, and snagged Quinn by the collar of his designer leather jacket. He grunted but didn’t fight back as you pulled him out of the booth and towards the door. You pulled stares from the families adorning the booths and counter, and you probably looked like a rabid animal. You could picture your own expression, twisted and gnarled by the scars that cut through your face. You saw a kid flinch back and away from you as you passed his seat. 

The air was cold and sharp as you burst out of Max’s and started dragging Quinn towards the back parking lot. He let you, let you pull him along, let you toss him when you reached what you considered an acceptable distance from the building to kick his ass. You knew that, if he wanted to, Quinn could make it difficult for you, at the very least. He was strong, just as strong as you and twice as fast, twice as clever. You were a blunt object. You didn’t have it in you to strategize, to think through a fight as it happened. You could call Quinn a lot of horrible things, but one thing he was not was stupid. Not like you were. 

Your fist connected with his face before he could even get his footing. Pain burst out over your barely-healed knuckles with satisfaction. You grit your teeth and tried to step back, put some distance between you two. Your back met with the trunk of a silver sedan. Quinn held himself up, one hand on the grimy wall of Max’s industrial dumpster. Blood and bruise blossomed so prettily across his sharp cheekbone. He closed in as soon as he got his footing, boxing you in between him and the car. Your only way out was through. 

You’d been fighting the same way your entire life. You’d always been weaker than someone, you’d always been hungry and disadvantaged and outnumbered. So you took to the ground like a prey animal. You dove in, hit them where it hurt, and ran, put distance between you, let the hoard thin as they chased you so you could pick them off one by one. Quinn had always delighted in watching you dance around the battlefield, often of his own making. He liked to watch you scrap, fight dirty, pull hair and bite and scratch for eyes. 

He was so much taller than you and his reach seemed endless. When the two of you fought, he didn’t let you run. He made you stand in one spot and wail, hoping that your brute force was enough. 

That, more than anything he did to you, had always made you feel distinctly vulnerable. 

He came at you quickly, decisively, struck you hard in your ribs. His shitty ex must have told him where she’d done the same, because his aim was eerie. You gasped, the air knocked out of you, and locked an arm around his shoulders to keep him close. You drove your fist up, into his gut, punching for his diaphragm as your chest seized and fought to allow you any air. 

Quinn twisted out of your hold and swung his leg up, landing a kick to your stomach and sprawling you back against the sedan. You growled, near feral, and dove forward again. Quinn wanted you close, pinned down, vulnerable? You would show him just how dangerous you could be in close quarters. 

It was blurry after that. A series of hits, skin on skin, tearing fabric, blood and grunts. This was a familiar dance. The two of you had fucked, often, in fact, but for you this was a much more familiar type of intimacy. It was how your father, on the rare occasions he had been present in your childhood, had shown you his love. It was how your mother, for all of her virtues, had raised you. Since you were young, you’d been shown love most often by a firm right hand. Quinn was the latest in a long line of people who loved you with a fist. You filled up with the heady euphoria of it, got drunk on his little sounds, his curses and moans of pain, his high laughter like a predator’s ringing around in your swimming head. 

This is what you had seen in him. His eyes flashed, bluer than blue, catching yours a few times in the scuffle. You crushed your knuckles into his nose and knocked it askew. He called out your name, your real name. Fuck, it sounded like a plea, like a promise. 

He hit the ground before you did. You’d always had staying power, whether it had anything to do with your actual constitution or if it was tied up in your stupid, persistent stubbornness. Quinn was a child of abundance. You knew from the shape of him, no matter what games he liked to play, that he had never wanted for anything. That was the only advantage you had over guys like Quinn, guys like David. You had had to last before. Plenty of people had tried to starve you out, so when most people were bent with hunger pains, you did what you did best; soldiered on. 

“What do you want, Quinn?” You panted, hands on your knees. He spat out blood and smiled up at you with swollen cheeks. 

“I already told you, Precious.” Back to that stupid nickname. You wanted to kick him again, but he was already pushing himself up, getting his feet under him. “I want you.” 

“You are fucked in the head if you think I’d ever go back to you.” You growled. Your ribs ached. You wrapped a hand around your chest and held on. 

“No,” Quinn smiled at you as he stood. He had the nerve to look bashful. “I suppose not. That’s fine. All I want is… one last taste.” 

“What?” You breathed. 

“I want to fuck you.” He rolled his eyes, swiping a finger under his nose and coming back bloody. “One last time.” 

“Fuck off.” You scoffed. Your stomach was doing flips again. The idea of putting yourself in that position, vulnerable and bare under him, submitting yourself to Quinn’s particular brand of love, made you physically sick. 

Part of you was afraid you wouldn’t survive his one last time. Another part of you, somehow bigger, was afraid you would. 

You turned to leave, resolute, and caught sight of Sam. He was standing two yards off, watching silently on the edge of the parking lot. He seemed more concerned than anything, but there wasn’t an ounce of judgment in his severe features. You looked away. Holding his brown-eyed-gaze was unbearable. 

“I’ll get what I want somewhere, Precious.” Quinn called after you. “From someone. Remember, I’ve been inside their bedroom.” 

An image of Little Shaw flashed across your mind. Pressed against the floor, folded in half with Quinn between their legs, his teeth in their skin, burns littering their flawless skin, cuts waiting to scar from that ill-kept pocket knife he carried. Something in your chest snapped. Maybe it was a bone. Maybe it was your resolve. 

You crashed into Quinn, moving faster than you thought you could. His head banged back against the dumpster, his lips twisted into a fuck-you smile that you wanted to rip off of his face. You knew where he kept it in his stupid fucking jacket. His knife was in your hand before you could even think. The blade was opened, dried blood giving it a rusty look, and pressed into the juncture of his throat. You knew the bite of that blade. You’d had it pressed in that same spot a dozen times before. A line of blood ran down his throat, catching on his bobbing Adam's apple. He looked so fucking pretty in this light, the puff of his breath in the winter air smothering his features, blood smeared across his thin lips. 

You loved him. You had loved him, at least. Your body wouldn’t let you forget it. 

“If you ever fucking touch them, I’ll kill you!” You cried, a plea, a promise. “I’ll tear you to pieces, do you fucking get that? I’ll fucking kill you!” 

“Darlin’!” An arm locked around your middle and pulled you back. The knife clattered to the asphalt, wet with Quinn’s blood. His laughter crowded out any thought that might make itself known in your head. You thought you’d drown in the sound of it. 

Warmth at your back. The distance between you and Quinn grew. A soft voice taking up the space left behind as Quinn’s retreated. You were across the parking lot, across the road, in the passenger seat of Sam’s truck before you could think enough to start fighting. Sam didn’t stop talking. 

“I know, I know, Darlin’, I’ve gotcha. Gimme- yeah, there, come here-“ he grabbed your hand, squeezed it in time with his exaggerated breaths. You realized, suddenly, as Sam plopped into the driver’s seat and trapped you in the silent confines of his truck’s cabin, that you were crying. Wailing, actually. You hadn’t cried in years. Not since Gabe had died, and even that wasn’t anything like this. You bent at the middle, your seatbelt pulling at the bruises on your chest, and screamed. Sam’s hand snapped to the back of your neck. You thought he was likely trying to stabilize your spine. Paramedic training must have kicked in. His fingers tangled with your hair as he shushed you, cooed soft reassurances into the space between your cries. 

Eventually, your voice gave out. Eventually, your muscles unclenched, and you hung, chest to thighs, hugging yourself so hard you couldn’t breathe. Sam’s hand didn’t leave your hair until the car stopped, and only then to reach more of you. His cold, rough hands trailed up under your jacket, sought out skin, tugged you up until he could look you over. 

Your eyes met his, dark and wide and sure. 

He wasn’t scared. You didn’t know how he had managed that. You didn’t know how he managed to look at you the exact same way after that. 

“I’m sorry-“ you started, your mouth sharp with blood. 

“Don’t,” Sam snapped, his face twisting. He looked… pissed off. That you understood. That you could wrap your mind around. He wanted to be angry with you? That was fine. Better that than scared of you. “You didn’t do a damn thing wrong. Come on, lemme get you inside. I need to take a look at you.” 

You looked up, took in your surroundings. The 10-19 stood, illuminated by street lights, across its long parking lot. You didn’t know how you’d missed that familiar drive. Your chest sparked with anxiety. David’s truck was still on the lot. He would see you. 

“I can’t.” You breathed. You shook your head, rebuking the very thought of David seeing you like this. And fuck, how could you explain why? He would kill you. He’d kick you out. He’d wash his hands of you. And as much as you were fighting his influence, his help, his care, you knew that you would come unraveled without it. If David was done with you, then that was it. Doors closed. No vacancy. 

“Darlin’-“ Sam started, reaching for you. Your phone started buzzing in your pocket. You startled, fumbling for it with your swollen, fucked up hands. Sam had delicately dabbed your knuckles with alcohol and gauze for days and you’d gone and wasted his work. 

David’s name lit up your screen. His shift was over and at this hour he was done worrying over the night shift. He was looking for you so he could go home to his invaded home and his endangered spouse. The prey animal in your chest jerked and you followed where it tugged you. You dropped your phone, stumbled out of Sam’s truck, tangling with the seatbelt. Your boots hit the asphalt and you ran. 

You didn’t realize, in your haste to run, hide, escape, that you’d started running towards the 10-19. You didn’t realize, as you stared down at your feet and tried to make yourself small, that you were running straight into David until you collided with his chest. 

You bounced back, let out a startled cry, and raised your fists. You didn’t know if it was to strike out or to protect your face, but it served the same purpose either way. David’s phone was still up to his ear, and his face was bare in shock as he looked you over. 

You stepped back like you were going to run. He was faster than you. His fingers threaded into your jacket and pulled you close. 

“What the fuck?” He barked, his face lined with anger and worry. 

Your body knew you were done. David’s hand held up your weight, and you went limp against your jacket. Whatever adrenaline had been holding you together slipped away and let you unravel. David hauled you to his chest by your jacket, cradled your head with one giant palm, wrapped his other arm around your still too-trim waist. 

“Sam!” He shouted, a definitive order. You were a walking house fire, and David took over as soon as he set foot on the scene. 

That was it, then. He’d seen you. He would know, or Sam would tell him. David would choose his spouse over you, which is what he should have done in the first fucking place. You’d be out on your ass in two hours flat. You’d run with less in worse shape in less time. But you couldn’t get your feet under you. You couldn’t get an inch of your body to obey your desperate orders. 

Doors closed. No vacancy.

[m00nymonster]

Birthday

Prompt: present

What do you give a spaceship?

This was a question Seth was asking himself now because two cycles ago Iris had had her fifth birthday party, and for the first time Perihelion had asked for one too. It hadn't seemed interested before, but lately had become more verbal (literally) about its wants. Apparently after years of seeing Iris get birthday parties it wanted one for itself. This party had to include presents, which was the problem.

The party itself would be simple to organize. Peri wasn't fond of the other AIs in the program--it had trouble getting along with them, especially Holism, who was popular with the other AIs--so the guest list would simply be the crew and Iris. A party with seven adults and one child was easy enough. The present part? That, not so much.

A spaceship didn't need much. Fuel, for the few times its power core needed a boost. A good cleaning every now and then. A happy crew for company. However, one did not usually associate a vehicle with possessions. Spaceships weren't sapient enough to even ask for such things.

For now the crew was plotting in a university faculty room at PUMNT, though Iris had been brought with them and was currently happily playing with dolls at the table.

"I requisitioned party streamers and decorations," Kaede said.

"And cake?" Iris said hopefully.

"Yes, and cake."

"Chocolate?"

Kaede smiled. "Of course."

"Cake! Cake! Cake! Cake!" Iris chanted. "Oh! And starchy foods!"

"Iris, we'll have all your favorites," Seth said patiently. It wasn't like Peri was going to eat them.

"Yaaaaay!" Iris squealed. "I want to give Peri a teddy bear!"

"A teddy bear? Where would we put it?"

"On the bridge! Captain Teddy!"

Martyn laughed. "Okay, we'll find one for you."

"I wanna find it," Iris pouted. "And it has to be pink!"

"All right, starlight. We'll go shopping," Martyn said. "Seth, we'll leave the rest to you."

"Sure," Seth said. The two left, and Seth looked at his crew.

"Peri's expecting a present from us, too," he said. Kaede made a face.

"What the heck do you give a spaceship?" she asked.

"I was wondering the same thing," Seth said dryly. "I don't think we can get away with a teddy bear."

"It enjoys Iris' media," Matteo replied. "Maybe we can give it...a game based on some media?"

"Peri devours those. We need something that'll keep it occupied for more than five seconds. Literally."

Matteo looked stumped. Kaede shook her head.

"We've got to think outside the box. What would a machine get use out of? And 'a good polish' is not the right answer," she said, glaring at Matteo, who closed his mouth.

The crew and their captain sat in thought. Finally Seth said, "it's disembodied, isn't it? I mean, it doesn't have a body like the rest of us."

"I suppose," Kaede said. Seth grinned.

"I know what to get it," he said. "Let's get to work."

Two weeks later the crew had Peri's first birthday party. Peri enjoyed watching its humans play silly games, including pin-the-appendage-on-the-fauna, and eating cake (although Iris wore more cake than she ate). But it was by far the most excited to open the two packages it knew contained its very first birthday presents. Well, Iris would open them, anyway.

Is it present time? it asked eagerly as Seth finished wiping cake off of Iris. Seth nodded. "Iris, would you open the presents, please?"

"Mine first! Mine first!" Iris squealed, and grabbed a hot pink box. She ripped it open and pulled out an equally pink teddy bear. "Look, Peri! I got you a teddy bear!"

Thank you, Peri answered seriously. Can we put it in my engine room?

"Whereever you want," Seth replied. "Iris, if you--"

Iris was already ripping the packaging on Peri's second present to shreds. When she pulled out its contents she looked confused.

"What is it?" It was a machine of some sort, the same size as Iris, with a large dome top and several wiggly metal arms underneath.

"It's a very special drone," Seth said. "Peri, try it."

Curious, Peri downloaded a part of itself into the drone. It floated in the air and the arms wiggled. Iris giggled and grabbed one. "Hello, Peri," she said, and shook it like a handshake.

Hello, Iris, Peri said, and shook back. The drone gently wrapped two arms around her like a hug.

Thank you, Peri said quietly, its feed voice filled with emotion. I love it.

Seth smiled. "Happy birthday, Peri."

[flight-of-the-sacred-eagle]

Remember that Shadow and Tails should’ve been in forces together? Well the brain worms took over and I’m writing it. And I’m like. Outrageously proud of this except.

TW discussions of death.

Tails was quiet for a moment as they exited the city and walked into a forest. His tails twitched behind him. Then, he looked back at Shadow. “Do… do the nightmares get better?” He asked quietly. There was the explanation as to why Tails had clearly not been sleeping. Shadow sighed.

“Eventually,” he said. “Eventually, you’ll be able to go a week, a month, even a year without them. But they never go away. Not entirely,” he said. “It’s the same as the pain. I… talking about her still hurts sometimes,” he explained softly. Tails looked away quietly.

“And the guilt?” He asked meekly. Shadow swallowed thickly. He didn’t know the specifics of Sonic’s death. No one did. But that simple question was enough to tell Shadow that Sonic had made a decision to save Tails. Just like Maria had. Which meant that he knew exactly what Tails meant.

The hybrid had had the conversation about feeling guilty over Maria’s death before. With Sonic. With Rouge. They had both promised him that it wasn’t his fault. And, maybe they were right. But that didn’t stop the feeling. And he wasn’t about to lie to Tails.

“… never,” Shadow admitted quietly. “It… it becomes bearable. You can push it aside and ignore it. Eventually, you’ll learn that there’s no shame in trying to live. In learning to love again. But every time you remember what happened, it comes back,” he said. “They will tell you that you shouldn’t feel that way. That it was her, or, well, his decision to save you. And that will be a true statement,” he explained. “But it will do little to alleviate the fact that you walked out alive, and they did not,” he said.

“I do not know how Sonic d-died,” he continued, voice catching as he found tears welling in his eyes. “But, no matter how it happened, you will feel guilty. You just… need to accept that he made his choice and wouldn’t take it back,” he finished. Looking over, he noticed that Tails had stopped walking. His ears twitched as he heard a sniffle, and, turning around, he found Tails staring at the ground, shoulders shaking.

Quietly, Shadow walked over to him. And for once, he didn’t hesitate. Leaning forwards, he wrapped his arms around the younger fox, who wasted no time wrapping his arms back around him and letting out a sob. Shadow closed his eyes as his own breathing began to quicken.