#dotty wc

[eggfeather]

dotty

[lemnnshark]

"Dotty is a pale white-and-ginger she-cat."

[marmosetpaw]

[gougarpaw]

“I guess there’s no harm in learning… so long as this outsider doesn’t start thinking of himself as our leader.”

Dotty is a pale white-and-ginger she-cat.

[guess-my-next-obsession]

In The Cold, Cold Night: Chapter One

pairing: cowboy/frontier!joel miller x oc (Dorothea) / unrequited tommy miller

rating: M (talks of death, bordellos, gender constructs, other wild west things, tommy is a cocky flirt)

wc: 7.2k

series masterlist | playlist

It was a hot and dry spring in Texas, the corn fields out in front of the Mackey family farmhouse dying underneath the brutal and unforgiving sun. John Mackey, the patriarch of his small, humble family, tried his best to conceal his worry over the season’s meager harvest, but his wife, Jessa, and his eldest child, Dorothea, or Dottie as her family called her, had a unique ability to see right through his hardened exterior to the vulnerable, frightened man inside.

Although she was a grown woman, her twenty-fourth birthday passing just seven months prior, Dorothea chose not to venture out from her parent’s watch like all the other girls in their small town had done years before. She liked the predictability of home—the sound of her father’s work boots hitting the hardwood after a long day in the field, the smell of her mother’s cooking, the loud chatter of her five younger brothers as they ran around the house and farm like they were wild animals. Though a part of her did crave more, it was a small enough part that she could ignore, fixing her brown eyes instead on taking care of the things she already had.

“Daddy!” James, the youngest of the clan at only six years, came hurtling into the kitchen as his father sat at the dinner table sipping on a fresh cup of black coffee, Jessa Mackey and Dorothea standing at the sink scrubbing this morning’s dishes. “Look what the lady at the store gave me and Ed.”

“Let me see what’cha got,” the gruff man said, lowering his cup and newspaper to the tabletop as he fixed his attention on his son.

James wore a wide, boyish grin as he reached into the front pocket of his dirty, denim overalls and pulled out a burlap sack, his tiny fingers pulling the drawing string loose so that he could dump out the contents on top of his father’s morning news.

“Well, what’s all this, now?” John said, catching a few of the tiny glass spheres as they began to roll off the uneven table.

“Marbles,” he said, full of wonder and excitement. “She even taught me how to play with ‘em.”

“Can you teach me?” he asked, setting the handful of marbles into the little boy’s hand.

“I forgot,” he smiled bashfully. “But Eddie—“

“I didn’t ask Eddie, now did I?” John smiled back. “Come on, figure it out. You learned once, you can remember.”

“Oh, will you leave him be,” Jessa scolded lightly, chuckling at her husband’s insistence as she walked over, drying her hands on a cloth before throwing it over her shoulder. “Where’s your brother?”

“Outside playin’ with Sarah,” James said, looking up at his mother with round eyes as she carded her fingers through his dust-covered brown hair.

“Who’s Sarah?” Dorothea asked as she dried her hands off on her apron, her brows stitching together.

“She’s new ‘round here,” her youngest brother replied. “She ain’t got any friends—“

“Doesn’t have,” John corrected, lifting his newspaper back up.

“How old is she?” Jessa asked.

“My age,” the boy said, a big toothy smile on his face. “May I go play with ‘em, mama?”

“Yeah, go on,” Jessa smiled and watched as her son ran out of the room with his bag of marbles in hand, the wicker screen door slamming against the wooden frame of the old home as he bolted through it. “I gotta talk to Maggie about givin’ him new toys every time I send ‘em over.”

“She likes it,” Dorothea interjected. “Can’t have babies of her own, it only makes sense she spoils everyone else’s.”

“Don’t matter,” Jessa took a seat at the table to rest her aching feet. “We don’t need another tab.”

John’s eyes lifted to meet his wife as if he were daring her to continue.

“If that girl’s new, maybe I should bake a pie and take it over to her mama and daddy,” Dorothea suggested, sensing the building tension. “We got some blueberries that’ll turn any day now.”

“Sure, honey, go on,” John said, looking back to his paper.

“Don’t use more than y’have to, Dot,” Jessa ordered. “I need flour to make biscuits for supper.”

“I’ll only use what I need, ma,” Dorothea promised with a saintly smile, flashing her emerald green eyes at her mother before heading into the pantry to start out on her baking.

“Daddy!” Sarah’s squeal could be heard from a mile away, causing her father, Joel, to turn his head in the direction of the dirt road, spotting his daughter riding on the handlebars of of a brand new, candy red-painted bicycle, his younger brother pedaling towards the opened gate of their farm. “Look what Uncle Tommy got!”

Joel shook his head at the needless expense as he watched them ride up to where he stood near the porch, his white cotton shirt soaked down his spine from spending the better half of the afternoon fixing the old wooden steps.

“You ain’t got nothin’ better to spend your money on?” Joel asked as they came to a skid in front of him, Sarah hopping off the handlebars and skipping up to her father’s side to hug his hip, his hand smoothing her wild curls out of her face. “Where you been all day, missy? Out causin’ trouble?”

“I made friends with some boys down the road,” she replied, looking up at her father as he quirked an eyebrow.

“Boys, huh?” he asked, his tone playful. “You ain’t old enough to be hangin’ around any boys.”

“But daddy, they’re sweet,” she insisted, rounding her hazel eyes at him and poking out her bottom lip for good measure. Joel smiled and nodded, rubbing his hand across her shoulders.

“I’m just kiddin’, baby girl,” he assured. “What did y’all get up to?”

“We played cowboys on their farm,” she beamed. “I got to be the sheriff.”

“You know me and your daddy used to be cowboys?” Tommy said, leaning against the post of the porch.

“Well, I would’a caught you,” she said, tilting her chin up in confidence.

“Alright, sheriff, why don’t you go inside and wash off all this dirt before supper?” Joel ordered, patting her back as she begrudgingly obeyed her. “Cheer up, I’m makin’ your favorite.”

“Chicken soup?” she squealed again.

“You got it,” he nodded before waving at her to head into the house like he’d asked.

“If you’re gonna yell, yell,” Tommy sighed, taking a seat on the second step.

“I ain’t gonna yell,” Joel sat down with him. “But you can’t be goin’ around town showin’ off and spendin’ like that. We don’t need people pryin’ into our business and gettin’ the wrong idea.”

“It ain’t a crime to be a bounty hunter,” Tommy argued.

“Not when you’re workin’ for the law, but you and I both know we were about as far from the law as we could get,” Joel said. “Just don’t want people treatin’ Sarah bad because of what we did to make ends meet. That’s why we had to leave the last place, remember?”

“Yeah, I know,” Tommy nodded. “I just saw it and thought it would make droppin’ Sarah off at the schoolhouse easier on me, s’all.”

“Well, I ain’t gonna make you take it back,” Joel said, offering a soft smile, bumping his brother’s shoulder with his own. “Just…talk to me before you go out and buy somethin’ that pretty next time, alright? I might want one for myself.”

“Well, speaking’ of pretty,” Tommy nudged his chin forward in the direction of the gate, Joel’s eyes following his eyeline until he saw what he was so fixed on. Tan, freckled skin, a head of chocolate brown waves thrown up messily, a pair of bright green eyes and an equally bright smile heading up the dirt path to the porch.

“She here for you?” Joel whispered to his brother.

“I certainly hope so,” Tommy replied with a smile.

“Hi, y’all, sorry to interrupt,” the unfamiliar face greeted them as she reached the bottom of the steps, both men staring at her with a mixture of confusion and awe. “I’m Dorothea. My little brothers were playin’ with your sister earlier, and I thought I’d bring a pie over to welcome y’all to the town.”

“Sister?” Tommy asked, fixing a charming smile onto his face. “No sister here, but we’ll be glad to take that pie off your hands.”

“Oh,” she furrowed her brows in confusion. “I’m sorry, I guess I must’a—“

“You talkin’ about Sarah?” Joel spoke up, drawing her eyes to meet his.

“Yeah, I think that’s what her name was.”

“That’s my daughter,” he smiled.

“Oh!” Her eyes widened in shock. “I’m sorry, I thought—you look young, so I just thought—“

“No need to apologize,” he assured, standing up and unintentionally towering over her as he walked down the steps. “I had her young; I’m used to it by now.”

Dorothea smiled softly and nodded, her eyes lowering to the pie in her hands rather than at his dark, round eyes.

“Well, this is for y’all, then,” she said, holding the pie out for him to take.

“Thank you,” he accepted it and lifted the cloth covering the top, bringing the pie close to his nose. “Smells great.”

“It’s a family recipe,” she said. “I can give it to your wife if she’s around?”

“Oh—no,” Joel tensed, his smile faltering. “She, uh, she passed givin’ birth to Sarah.”

“Oh,” Dorothea’s eyes turned soft and sympathetic. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s alright,” he assured, flickering his eyes over to his brother who remained watching their new friend with eager eyes. “We’re about to have supper, you could join us? Let us repay you for the pie?”

“Oh, I wish I could, but my mama’s makin’ biscuits and gravy tonight and she’d throw a fit if I stayed out past dark,” Dorothea said, offering him an apologetic smile.

“Well, you’re always welcome,” Joel shrugged. “Your brothers, too. I’m sure Sarah would love it if her new friends stopped by.”

“I’ll let ‘em know,” she smiled. “Well, I should be goin’.”

“You need a ride?” Tommy asked, standing up.

“Oh, no,” she giggled. “I like the walk, gives me a little time away from all the noise.”

“Alright,” Tommy smiled. “You said your name was Dorothy?”

“Dorothea,” Joel corrected.

“That’s right,” she chuckled. “And y’all are?”

“I’m Tommy, he’s Joel,” Tommy said.

“Well, Tommy, Joel,” she smiled as she turned her eyes from Tommy to meet Joel’s again. “It was nice meetin’ y’all. Enjoy that pie.”

“I’m sure we will,” Joel smiled. “Get home safe, now.”

“Everybody knows not to mess with me,” she smirked as she began backing her way towards the gate.

“That so?” he smirked.

“Yep,” she giggled. “Bye now!”

“Bye,” Tommy called, waving at her as she turned around and started down the road in the direction she came. “What a looker.”

“She wasn’t lookin’ at you,” Joel teased.

“What, you think she was lookin’ at you?”

“No,” he replied defensively as he started up the steps. to head into the house, Tommy trailing closely behind.

“You got a crush, old man?”

“Twenty-eight ain’t old,” Joel argued, setting the pie down on the dinner table.

“Older than me,” Tommy quipped. “Older than her.”

“Alright, well since you’re so young and spry, why don’t you go out back and fetch us some milk for supper, charmer?” Joel teased, grabbing the cloth from the pie and swatting it at his younger brother.

It was Sunday afternoon, Joel and Tommy finished with the week’s chores and labor, Sarah skipping down the road with them as they made their way to town to look around at the shops and stands.

Joel, as always, kept his pistol tucked into the holster on his belt, his eyes scanning his surroundings for any potential trouble while desperately hoping none found him.

Joel had lived a lot of life in his twenty-eight years. He started out as a ranch hand to his father, Tommy just old enough to form a sentence while his older brother was expected to go out and tend to the horse, sheep, and cows at five in the morning. School wasn’t a priority to his parents, but learning to take care of the ranch was, to them, as essential to living as breathing.

Joel was fifteen when his father passed from typhoid fever, his mother following shortly after getting caught in the middle of a shoot out in town, leaving him to not only take care of the ranch, but his eleven year old brother as well.

Two years later, Joel and Tommy got swept up in the bounty hunting lifestyle after seeing how much the sheriff was offering for an outlaw on a wanted poster. They bid their ranch goodbye, packed up what little they had, and rode off into the desert to start anew, not knowing a single thing about what was to come.

Though their endeavors started out lawful, a then-seventeen year old Tommy quickly grew bored of their meager earnings and convinced Joel to abandon the lawful bounty hunting in favor of working with outlaws, the two of them hunting out sheriffs and their own people instead.

This was how Joel met Sarah’s mother at the young age of twenty-one. She was ten years older than him, working in a bordello Tommy insisted on staying at for the night during one of their hunts. Joel was hesitant at first, but quickly found his footing once he spotted her across the room. She had dark skin, rich, brown eyes, and a figure like he’d never seen before. He was already hooked then, but once their visits grew more frequent, he realized it was more than just a drunken lust he felt for the woman. He loved her. And when she fell pregnant with his child, Joel took her down to the town church and married her before riding off again to go on his next hunt. He only saw her two more times before Sarah came, and then she was gone.

Joel tried to go back to his old life, but found it difficult to do what he needed to do with a baby in tow. The boys settled down in Utah for a while, but Tommy’s antics at the local saloon had them packing up and heading west to California. Tommy had some luck there panning for gold, but just as quickly as the last time, he got into a brawl and the three of them were forced back on the road. It went like this for a while, up until just a few months ago when they were talked out of moving out of their old family ranch by a wealthy man looking to buy it for a handsome sum, the money too appealing for Joel to decline.

That’s how they ended up here in the Middle of Nowhere, Texas.

Joel liked it here. It was quiet, there wasn’t any trouble, and everyone seemed to have an understanding that this place was for families, somewhere safe to keep your children in the midst of all this shooting and debauchery. Joel wanted to stay here, but there was a nagging voice every time he looked over at his reckless younger brother that told him it was only a matter of time before they’d have to pack it all up again and run off. He hoped this time, Tommy would learn his lesson.

“Daddy, can I go look at the flowers?” Sarah chimed as they reached the booming Main Street, her little finger pointing at a flower cart.

“Yeah, but don’t go runnin’ off too far,” he said, keeping a watchful eye on her as she skipped towards the daisies.

“I’m gonna go see about that wheelbarrow,” Tommy said, nudging his head in the direction of an old man’s roadside stand of junk.

“Anything that keeps you outta the saloon,” Joel said, his eyes still locked on his daughter as she chatted the ear off of the older woman selling flowers.

“Robert, you better stay out of there!”

Joel’s attention was turned in the direction of a faintly familiar voice calling down the street. There he spotted Dorothea, surrounded by five boys ranging from Sarah’s age to somewhere around her own. The eldest looking boy, Robert he assumed, waved her off as he continued ahead of them into the saloon and bordello, leaving her fuming as she tried to corral the three youngest to follow her while the second oldest followed in his brother’s footsteps.

“Dottie, look! It’s Sarah!” the youngest squealed, his finger pointing down the road at Sarah who was getting a flower pinned in her curls. “Can I go say hi?”

“Yeah, just stay where I can see ya,” she said, watching as all three boys ran off in Sarah’s direction.

Joel cleared his throat as he felt obligated to go over and say hello, but Dorothea spotted him first and gave him a polite nod from down the road before turning to head into the general store. A strange pang of disappointment hit him in the chest at her lack of interaction, but he quickly reminded himself that he didn’t want the responsibility of a friend. He had enough on his plate with his ranch, his daughter, and his brother.

“Daddy,” Sarah came strolling back over hand in hand with Dorothea’s youngest brother, both of them smiling cheekily. “This is my boyfriend, James.”

“Boyfriend, huh?” Joel gave the boy a playful once over and shook his head in feigned disapproval. “How about a boy friend?”

“Daddy,” she pouted and fixed a stern look on her face that looked every bit her mother.

“Alright, James, but I expect you to respect my daughter,” he said, playfully wagging his finger in the little boy’s face and poking his nose, earning a giggle.

“Yes, sir,” James smiled. “I think Sarah’s the love of my life.”

“Love of your life?” Joel asked, resting a hand on his hip. “You ain’t lived much life, son.”

“Six years of it,” he countered.

“Six years a long time to you?” Joel continued with a smile.

“Yeah. It’s my entire life,” the boy quipped, pulling a laugh out of Joel.

“I guess you’re right,” Joel chuckled. “Long as you treat her right, we ain’t gonna have a problem.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Those your brothers?” Joel nudged his chin in the direction of the two slightly older boys, one of them chasing the other with a flower he’d plucked from the lady’s cart.

“Yes, sir,” James nodded. “Ed and Bo.”

“And the other two?”

“Robert and Paul,” James said. “But they’re mean.”

“Yeah? They mean to you?” James nodded. Joel smiled and squatted down to be eye level with him. “Let me ask ya somethin’. One day, you’re gonna be big enough to be mean right back to ‘em,” James nodded. “That somethin’ you’re looking forward to?”

“No,” James shook his head.

“No? Why not?”

“I don’t like bein’ mean,” James said, shrugging his shoulders.

“Good answer,” Joel smiled. “I don’t want my daughter with somebody mean.”

“Boys! Come help me with these groceries!” Dorothea called from the shop, her eyes flickering to Joel as he stood up and turned to look at her. “They ain’t botherin’ y’all, are they?”

“No, ma’am,” he said, tipping the brim of his cowboy hat at her.

“Lord almighty, she’s a fine lookin’ woman,” Tommy appeared next to Joel, earning a stern glare from his older brother.

“She’s off limits,” James said, his own face scrunching up. “My daddy said so.”

“Well, your daddy hasn’t met me yet,” Tommy smiled. “She got a boyfriend?”

“No,” James replied defensively. “And she don’t want one neither.”

“What about a friend?” Tommy persisted.

“I’m her friend,” he said, crossing his little arms over his chest.

“Did you get the wheelbarrow?” Joel asked, desperate to stop his brother’s back and forth.

“Yep,” Tommy nodded.

“Good, now go on and use it. We need fire wood,” Joel said, tipping his chin towards the hardware store. Tommy sighed and did as his brother commanded while Joel urged both Sarah and James off towards the general store to pick up their weekly groceries.

“Daddy, can we get some blueberries to make another pie?” Sarah asked, pointing ahead at a pint of blueberries sitting on the table in the middle of the store along with the rest of this week’s harvest.

“I didn’t make the pie, baby,” he said. “Don’t know what else we’ll need.”

“Y’all talkin’ about my pie?” Dorothea asked, offering a smile to Sarah as she walked over holding a basket of fruit in her hand while her younger brothers carried the rest of the haul.

“You made it?” Sarah asked with delight.

“Yes, ma’am, I did,” Dorothea nodded. “You want the recipe?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Sarah smiled. “I’ll make my daddy teach me.”

“Is your daddy good at bakin’?” Dorothea chuckled, glancing over at Joel who watched her carefully.

“No,” Sarah frowned.

“No, he doesn’t look the part,” she smirked at him, watching as a subtle blush grew on his cheeks. “Well, maybe I could come and teach you since your daddy ain’t so good.”

“Daddy, can she?” Sarah asked, tugging on her fathers arm.

Joel looked down at his wide eyed daughter and felt affection bloom in his chest for her, immediately caving in to her request. “Sure, baby girl.”

“Alright, you want me to show you what you need?” Dorothea spoke to Joel, bringing his eyes back to hers.

“Yes, ma’am,” Joel nodded, gesturing at her to lead the way.

“Gonna need flour, y’all got that at home?” Joel nodded. “Butter?” Another nod. “How ‘bout milk?”

“We got our own cows,” he said.

“Looks like y’all ain’t gonna need much, then,” she smiled. “All’s left is some blueberries, a lemon, some sugar, and…I think that’s it.”

“You think?” Joel teased, quirking an eyebrow at her.

“I know,” she corrected herself with a smirk. “I’ll come by tomorrow afternoon, if that’s alright by y’all.”

“Sounds alright with me,” Joel smiled. “I’ll make sure Tommy ain’t around to bother ya.”

“Oh, you ain’t gotta worry about him. I think he’s kinda sweet…in his own special way,” she shrugged. Joel lifted his eyebrows in surprise at the jealousy that sparked inside him at the thought of Tommy and her together.

As if on cue, Tommy walked in, his eyes scanning the room until he spotted the three of them.

“Well if it ain’t Miss Dorothy,” he grinned.

“Dorothea,” James corrected from the counter as he scooped up the final sack of groceries.

“My apologies,” Tommy smirked. “Guess I’ll have to spend more time around ya. Get the name to stick.”

“Alright,” Joel rolled his eyes and patted Sarah on the shoulder, guiding her towards the counter to pay for their hail. “We’ll see ya tomorrow, then, Dorothea. Bring that James with ya if ya want. Word is him and Sarah are in love. I’d hate to come between that.”

Dorothea giggled and nodded. “That’d be a crime, now, wouldn’t it?”

“You’re comin’ by tomorrow?” Tommy asked, leaning against the counter.

“Yes, sir,” Dorothea nodded. “Showin’ your niece how to make my famous blueberry pie.”

“Got room for one more student?” he asked. “I’ve been meanin’ to learn how t’ bake.”

“Oh, have you now?” she giggled. “I suppose you can join us, long as you pay attention.”

“I’m gonna be payin’ attention, alright,” he smiled. “Have a good day, now, Dorothy.”

“Dorothe—“ She stopped herself from correcting him again once she realized he was now doing it on purpose, her head shaking as she smiled at him. “How ‘bout you just call me “Miss” from now on? Can’t get that wrong, can ya?”

“Ain’t no fun in that,” he smiled. “I’ll get it one ‘a these days.”

“I’m sure you will,” she rolled her eyes before looking to Joel. “See ya, Joel.”

Joel tipped his hat at her and watched her walk off back down the long road headed towards her ranch, her horde of brothers following closely behind.

“You gotta mess with her?” Joel asked Tommy as he pulled out a few notes and handed it to the clerk.

“Least she’s a nice woman,” Tommy reasoned. “Could be goin’ after one of my women at the bordello like you—“

“Watch it,” Joel warned seriously, no trace of amusement in his eyes as they flickered to an oblivious Sarah. “That mouth’s gonna get you in trouble, Tommy. One ‘a these days someone’s gonna come along and do somethin’ about it.”

“They already tried,” Tommy chuckled. “I’ll take my chances.”

Joel only shook his head as he led the three of them out of the store, Tommy’s hands busied by the wheelbarrow hauling lumber while Joel carried their bag of groceries and Sarah worked on the lollipop the cashier handed over to her.

“Dot, come down and help your mama with hangin’ clothes!” Dorothea’s mother, Jessa, called up the staircase of their quaint farmhouse, interrupting her journaling.

“Yes, mama!” she called back, closing her books before making her way downstairs to tug her boots on before entering the mid-morning heat. She joined her mother out in front of the lawn as she sat scrubbing the dirty laundry on her washing board, a few sheets already hung up on the line.

“Thank you, baby,” she said, wiping her brow. “It’s hot out today.”

“It’s been hot out every day,” Dorothea commented. “How’re the crops lookin’?”

“Your daddy don’t bother tellin’ me anymore,” she said. “Half of me wonders if we wouldn’t be better off packin’ up and movin’ west. I hear there’s still plenty gold.”

“Who ya gonna get to mine for it? Daddy’s back can’t take it, and your two eldest don’t seem to care ‘bout nothin’ except goin’ to the saloon.”

“Don’t you wish we had that luxury?” Jessa said with a smirk. “I know I’d like to be able to run off whenever I want and drink the night away.”

“I don’t care much for the drinkin’, but I would like to know what it feels like to do whatever I want whenever I wanna do it,” Dorothea replied. “Instead we gotta ask permission anytime we wanna leave the house. Makes ya sad if you think about it too much.”

“I’ll tell you somethin’,” Jessa locked eyes with her daughter. “You ever feel like sneakin’ off for a night—maybe go see a pretty boy—you can count on me t’keep your secret. Long as ya tell me, I’ll watch out for ya.”

“You gonna lie to daddy for me?” Dorothea giggled.

“Lord knows I’ve done worse things.”

Dorothea quirked an eyebrow at her mother, smirking in interest.

Jessa ignored her daughter’s curiosity. “So this mean there’s a boy?”

“No,” Dorothea shook her head. “Not yet, at least.”

“Come on, now,” Jessa smiled.

“James’ new friend, Sarah, has an uncle,” she shrugged. “He seems interested.”

“But you ain’t?”

“I don’t know, mama,” she blushed. “He’s fine and all, but…he ain’t really what I’m lookin’ for.”

“Why’s that?”

“He talks too much,” Dorothea replied, earning a hearty laugh from her mother.

“You’re just like me, ain’t ya?”

“Sarah’s dad, however—“

“Dad? How old is he?” Jessa furrowed his brows.

“He doesn’t look much older than me,” she replied. “But he’s quieter. Doesn’t talk unless he has to. And he was sweet with James,” she said. “Thought it was cute.”

“But he ain’t interested in you like the brother is?” Jessa asked.

“I don’t think so,” she said, grabbing the last piece of wet clothing from her mother’s hands and wringing it out before hanging it on the line. “Either way, I don’t foresee any sneakin’ out in my future.”

“A little sneakin’ out would do you some good,” Jessa argued. “You’re too well behaved for your own good.”

“Someone’s gotta be,” she smiled and nudged her head in the direction of the house. “Alright, I gotta go change.”

“Where you off to?”

“Helpin’ Sarah make a pie,” she said.

“Mmhm,” Jessa smirked. “Well tell the uncle and the daddy I said hello.”

“Sure, mama,” she smiled back knowingly before skipping off to the house.

“There she is,” Tommy chimed as Dorothea walked up the steps of the porch, a sweet tea in his hand as he leaned against the doorframe.

“Where’s my student?” Dorothea smirked, tilting her head at him.

“Right here,” he said, gesturing at himself. “Ready to learn.”

“I meant my promisin’ student,” she countered, bringing a grin to his face.

“She’s out back with her daddy,” he said, tipping his head back towards the house. “But we could get started without her.”

“I’m sure you’d like that,” she chuckled. “I’m gonna go find her.”

“I’ll be right here,” he drawled, watching her as she walked down the steps and rounded the corner of the house.

Out back, she was met with the sight of Sarah filling the pigs trough full of scraps while her father brushed the mane of a chestnut horse, his white shirt pulling taut across the breadth of his shoulders.

“Hey, y’all,” she announced herself, drawing both pairs of eyes to hers.

“Dorothea!” Sarah chimed, abandoning her work at the pig pen to come skipping over. “Time for pie?”

“Yes, ma’am,” she smiled, her eyes trailing from the little girl in front of her to her much larger father as he walked over, his blue jeans clinging to his legs as if they were painted on.

“Miss Dorothea,” he tipped his hat at her. “You come to take this trouble maker off my hands?”

“You causin’ trouble?” Dorothea asked, looking back to the six year old.

“Daddy’s lyin,” she grinned.

“So I got a troublemaker and a liar on my hands,” Dorothea smiled, looking back to Joel. “Ya gonna stay out here, or ya gonna join us inside?”

“Ain’t gonna be much help, I’m afraid,” he smiled.

“You can be our taste-tester,” she shrugged. “And maybe you can keep that brother of yours on a leash. He seems particularly determined today.”

“I apologize for his forwardness,” Joel spoke sincerely. “He thinks he’s smooth ‘cause every woman he’s ever talked to has been eager. He don’t realize it’s ‘cause he paid ‘em to be.”

Dorothea laughed, her brows lifting in shock at the racy nature of his joke.

“I’m sorry,” he said, realizing himself. “Forget I’m talkin’ to a lady.”

“Am I that homely?” she teased. “Maybe I’ll wear my best dress next time. Get Tommy to remember my name and you to remember you’re talkin’ to a woman.”

“Yeah, daddy,” Sarah scolded. “Where’s your manners?”

“I must’a lost ‘em,” he joked.

“Well, me and Dottie’ll help you find ‘em,” she sassed, grabbing Dorothea’s hand and dragging her along back to the house, Joel smiling to himself as he followed them.

“So, cows, a horse, pigs…looks like you’ve got yourself a ranch,” she said, looking behind her as Sarah continued tugging her along.

“Yep,” he agreed.

“You don’t talk much, do ya?”

“Try not to,” he said.

“Any reason?”

“Find people like me a little better when I keep my mouth shut,” he replied, earning another laugh.

“Someone must’a trained you right,” she joked. “Tommy on the other hand—“

“Y’all talkin’ ‘bout me?” Tommy spoke from the porch as the three of them ascended the steps. “Good things, I hope.”

“Hope is a dangerous thing,” Dorothea quipped, earning a chuckle from Joel, the sound drawing her eyes away from Tommy and over to him.

“I don’t get it,” Tommy said, smiling even though his brows were drawn together.

“Nevermind, let’s just get workin’,” Dorothea said, gesturing for him to lead the way.

“He ain’t too clever,” Joel leaned over Dorothea’s shoulder as they filtered inside, whispering to her, and she would’ve laughed if she hadn’t been so caught off guard by his proximity.

“You know anythin’ ‘bout makin’ a carrot cake? My mama used to make the best, and I haven’t found anythin’ quite as good since,” Tommy called from the kitchen as Dorothea remained frozen in the entryway, her eyes watching Joel as he squeezed past her to join his brother and daughter inside the small kitchen. “You hear me?”

“Yeah, sorry,” Dorothea cleared her head and composed herself as she walked in to join them. “Carrot cake, ya said? I don’t think I’ve ever made one.”

“Well, you had to have a flaw,” Tommy drawled.

“I’ve got a few,” she countered.

“Like what?”

“I’m very particular,” she replied.

“‘Bout what?”

“I like the quiet,” she said, smirking at him. “And I get real bossy.”

“I can shut up,” he said. “And I can follow orders.”

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” Joel groaned, sitting down at their round dinner table.

“Alright, then, if you’re so good at shuttin’ up and followin’ orders, how ‘bout you go sit down and stay quiet while me and Sarah get to work.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Tommy grinned, walking over to the table by the window to sit with his brother while Dorothea and Sarah got to work. “She likes me.”

“She hates you,” Joel corrected.

“What d’you know about women, huh? When’s the last time you talked to somethin’ as pretty as that?”

“Just a few minutes ago in the yard,” he said, lifting an eyebrow to signal his victory.

“You think she likes talkin’ to you anymore than me?” Tommy asked with a smug smile. “I can’t imagine how crazy someone’d have to be to find you interestin’. All you do is take care ‘a the ranch and complain.”

“I didn’t say she liked talkin’ t’me,” Joel shrugged. “Just that we talked.”

“Yeah, well, leave the talkin’ to me,” Tommy said. “I’ll have me a wife come winter, you’ll see.”

“She ain’t gonna marry you,” Joel chuckled.

“Why not?”

“You ain’t committed to nothin’ but causin’ trouble,” he said. “No amount ‘a pretty’s gonna change ya that quick.”

“Well,” Dorothea smiled across the table at Joel as he hauled a bite of her and Sarah’s creation into his mouth, Tommy long gone and out at the saloon while Sarah laid in the living room fast asleep from two thick slices of pie. “Any good?”

“Ya know it’s good,” he said, flickering his eyes at her before dropping them back to his plate.

“Is it always like pullin’ teeth with you?” Joel furrowed his brows as he looked at her again. “Givin’ a sincere compliment?”

“It was sincere,” he said.

“Guess I’m expectin’ somethin’ more like Tommy’s reaction.”

“What, fallin’ to my knees?” he joked, cracking a half smirk. “My knees are busted. I’ll have to praise you from my seat.”

“You and him are so different,” she commented, watching him as he ate. “He’s…wild. Too wild. Reminds me of my two brothers.”

“The ones who went into that…establishment?” he asked, wiping his mouth on a scrap of cloth he’d fashioned into a napkin.

“Yeah, them two,” she nodded. “You ever…been to one ‘em?”

Joel froze a bit, his hand pausing as he lifted a glass of milk to his mouth for a sip. “You askin’ me—“

“I just wanna know what they’re like,” she shrugged. “What they do.”

“You’re better off not knowin’.”

“Well, the men always seem to leave happy,” she said.

“They sure do,” he blushed and brought his cup the rest of the way to his lips, taking a swig before setting it down. “But I ain’t completely sure if that’s somethin’ you need’a know about.”

“Why is it that you boys get’a have all this fun and us girls are supposed to stay home and bake pies, sit and wonder what y’all are doin? What if I wanted to go into a bordello?”

“I ain’t sure it’s they’d know what t’do with ya,” he chuckled.

“Is it—are they…makin’ love?” she whispered the last line, causing Joel to choke on his bite, his fist pounding against his chest to clear it.

“I—“ He shook his head, lost for what to say. “I don’t know that I’d call it that.”

“But they are…sleepin’ together?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “But they ain’t doin’ no sleepin’.”

“And that’s where Tommy ran off to?”

Joel hesitated for a moment but nodded.

“Well, then I know for certain I don’t want him,” she said, looking at her plate.

“You don’t like…those kinda men?” he asked, recalling his own past.

“I don’t like men who get around,” she clarified. “If a man wants me, I better be the only one. But so far, I haven’t met a man willin’ to hang up his hat.”

“They’ll grow outta it,” he said.

“Did you?” she asked, knocking his boot under the table with hers.

“I had my day,” he said, locking eyes with her. “Sarah’s mom—she, uh—I met her in one of those…places.”

“But you married her.”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “Never liked two-timin’.”

“Well, there’s still hope to be had, then,” she smiled. “Just hope I’m still young and pretty by the time these boys decide t’grow up.”

“How old are you?” he asked, leaning back in his chair.

“I’ll be twenty-five on Christmas,” she said.

“Christmas, huh?”

“Yeah, makes it easy on my mama and daddy,” she joked. “What about you?”

“Twenty-eight,” he replied. “Twenty-nine in September.”

“Birthday just passed, then,” she said. “I’ll have t’bake you a belated birthday cake.”

“You tryin’ to win me over with food?” he flirted, just to test the waters.

“I didn’t know I was tryin’ to win you over,” she smiled.

“I wouldn’t mind if you did.”

“Your brother would,” she countered.

“Yeah,” he shrugged.

Dorothea sat there watching him with a smile, searching his eyes for any sign of a cruel joke being played on her but found none. Even still, she wasn’t sure what she was supposed to do in this sort of situation. She’d been flirted with for half her life, but was never interested enough to flirt back. Until now.

“I guess I should be goin’ off,” she said, swallowing her feelings for the man in front of her out of sheer fear of falling flat on her face.

“You gonna get home alright?” he asked, standing up when she stood to carry her plate to the sink. “Could take the horse.”

“No, I’m alright,” she assured with a smile, turning around to find Joel right in front of her, his chin tipped downwards as she looked up into his molasses brown eyes. Though she remained breathless, she couldn’t help but let out an airy chuckle as she lifted her hand to press it against the firm wall of his chest. She didn’t push him away, she simply rested it over his heartbeat to feel for a similar rhythm to her own. “You’re awfully close.”

“Would’ya like me to step back?” he asked, his eyes darting across her features, admiring the curve of her button nose.

“No,” she replied, what was supposed to be playful turning into a whisper as she watched tongue peek out and swipe over his bottom lip. She couldn’t help herself but to want to trace the line, too, her hand raising to rest over his bearded jaw while her thumb ghosted across the bow of his lip. “Never kissed anybody before, y’ know that?”

“S’easier than you’d think,” he whispered back, leaning down to slowly fill the gap between their lips, Dorothea’s eyes fluttering shut as she splayed her hand over his cheek while the other lifted to bury her fingers in his curls.

Joel hummed into the kiss as his lips landed against the pillowy softness of her pout, his chest pressing to hers as he pressed her into the counter behind her, his hands gripping the edge of the rustic wood.

Dorothea’s brows laced together as she tried to keep her head above water in this sea of him. He tasted like the pie she spent all afternoon baking and a little bit of whiskey, the warmth of both heating her skin up as she melted into him.

“Daddy,” Sarah called from the other room, her tiny voice thick with sleep. Joel pulled back first, leaving Dorothea to chase his lips with her eyes still shut. He smiled at the sight and leaned forward to kiss her forehead, pulling her out of her haze.

“I gotta go take her t’bed,” he whispered, his voice raspy in her ear as his lips came to rest there. “Wait for me.”

Dorothea couldn’t speak, her olive colored cheeks turning a shade of red as she watched him walk back and out of the room, his voice soft as he spoke to his daughter, scooping her up in his arms and carrying her down the hall

She stood there resting against the counter, her hand resting on her heated cheeks, smiling at the wood beneath her feet.

Was this what it felt like to want somebody? Did it always feel this good? A blood rush to the head?

Joel found his way back into the living room a few minutes later, finding her in that same spot, still spinning over his touch.

“I…hope that was alright,” he said, seemingly catching her by surprise, her eyes jumping away from the floor to meet his. “I hope I didn’t…assume—“

“I think ya did, just a little bit, but that’s alright,” she smiled, walking over to meet him in the middle of the room, her hands sliding over his chest to loop around his neck. “You assumed right.”

“Tommy ain’t gonna like this,” Joel warned, resting his hands on the small of her back.

“He doesn’t got any claim over me,” she replied, her eyes flickering back to his mouth. “Y’know, your lips are softer than they look.”

“That supposed t’be a compliment?” he smiled and she nodded. “Well, thank ya, ma’am.”

“I like when you call me that,” she grinned. “When you use those southern manners.”

“Yeah?” he grinned back, leaning down to brush his lips over hers. “You like when I’m quiet and polite?”

She laughed softly and nodded, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “Like that you know when to talk and when to shut up.”

“Then I’ll shut up now,” he said, smiling into the kiss as he squeezed her closer, his tongue swiping across her bottom lip before grazing the tip of her tongue. Dorothea moaned into the kiss, the sound causing Joel to short circuit and pull away, his forehead resting against hers. “You gotta go home.”

“Yeah,” she nodded, still breathless.

“Come see me tomorrow, if you got the time,” he said, pulling back to comb his hand through her brown waves as they hung loosely down her shoulder and back.

“I’ll see if I can sneak off,” she grinned, stepping back from his embrace to walk out the front door to his porch.

“I’ll see ya,” she said, biting her lip as she turned on her heel to walk down the steps of his porch.

“Bye, Dorothea,” he smiled to himself, tucking his hands in his pockets and leaning against the doorframe as he watched her frame get tinier and tinier as she walked down the long, dirt road until she disappeared out of view, taking the sunshine with her.

[peachiemilkytea]

ᴘʀɪᴢᴇ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛᴇʀ

Pt 1 , Pt 2

Summary: you’ve always worked at Frebear’s diner as an engineer. Since your dad is long time friends with Henry Emily. Though life gets overwhelming with home life and work.

Parings: Michael Afton x Reader

Warnings: slowburn, semi strangers to enemies to lovers, more so strangers to friends to lovers, mention of Y/N, AFAB!reader,

A/N: I am so excited to be bringing this series onto Tumblr. I am a little nervous considering this is the first series I am purring onto tumblr- please enjoy! I love hearing about critical criticism from others. Tumblr writers are like.. deities to me so 😭 I’m really nervous.

WC: 28K

☆════ ⋆★⋆ ════☆

In greek mythology, humans had four arms, four legs, and a head with two faces. Zeus split them into two separate people. They long for their other have. they throw themselves into relationships to search their lives for their other halves. A woman who was split from a woman looks for her other half, a man who was split from a man looks for his other half, and a man who was split from a woman looks for his other half. When a person meets their other half they are struck by their senses of love. A sense of belonging to one another. They don't want to be seperated from each other, not even a moment. The soul of every lover longs to be whole. We look for our other half to find ourselves. This is apart of Aristophanes Tale of Love.

I hope I can find my other half soon so I can get out of this house. I muffled myself further into my pillow. Making it cover my ears. Yet no matter how much I rolled back and forth I'm still hungry! I sighed and got up from my bed. Passing by my mirror. My hair was a bird's nest. I strike a pose in the mirror with a smile. Then walked downstairs where all the noise was coming from.

In the kitchen was my mom leaning on the kitchen counter. A red turtleneck, fluffy curly outward hair, and mom jeans with a belt. Another woman known as my best friend's mother, Darlene Jo. Brunette big curly hair going down to her shoulders with bangs leaning to the side. Chestnut eyes with natural shadows. In a green striped suit jacket, a collared ruffle shirt, and a pendant on the collar. A black skirt with black heels. Sitting at the table. Always a sweet face. Gossiping like they always do.

"Mom, do we have anything to eat?" I whined annoyingly.

"Did you look, Dottie?" Mom says calling me by my nickname. I opened the fridge, looked at it, then closed it again. I turned to my mother, holding out my hands to the fridge. My mother looked down and shook her head.

"Oh (Y/n)! You're becoming so big, how old are you sweetie?" Darlene asked.

"I'm nineteen," I answered causally, pulling out leftover lasagna out of the fridge. Reaching up past my mom to grab a plate. I put the lasagna on a pan and lit up the stove.

"You're growing up too fast, you've certainly grown into a young woman. Oh do you remember the times you and Cheryl would go to the park? Then you would push her on the swing? Oh memories~" Darlene swooned in memory lane with nostalgia twinkling in her eyes. I chuckled at the memory and nodded my head subtly.

They went back to gossiping. I got curious and listened in while I reheated the lasagna. Apparently a new girl named Betty just got stationed at my moms office. Going on about how Betty doesn't do her job right and bosses other people around. She would boss my mom around about what should be in the paper and what not should be. Which was just a bunch of bogus. Then my mom told her off politely, schooled her. She is a journalist. Darlene is a lawyer. I always loved listening to her cases and crime stories. Though it's classified I'm an expectation.

There was this one case where four employees were killed at Chuck E Cheese, one was injured. The shooter was Nathan Dunlap, a 19 year old former worker. He was full of rage after being fired 5 months after the incident. He went into the restaurant and ordered a sandwich then played arcade games. Dunlap hid in the bathroom till closing time. Once it was closing time he came out of the bathroom with a pistol. Dunlap shot Sylvia Crowell, she was cleaning the salad bar. She was 19. Shot closed range from her right ear. Ben Grant was vacuuming till he was shot close to his left eye. He was 17. Colleen O'Connor begged for her life on her knees till she was shot by Dunlap in the top of her head. She was 17. Bobby Stephens survived the shooting. When he came back from taking a smoke break out in the back. He thought the noise inside the restaurant was kids popping balloons. He was 20.

When Stephens came back inside he unloaded the dishwasher. Though Dunlap came through the kitchen door and shot him in the jaw. Stephens played dead. Dunlap made Marge Kohlberg unlock the safe. She was 50. Once it was opened Kohlberg was shot in the ear. He took the money and shot her in the other ear after he saw her move. The manager that fired him wasn't there. Stephens escaped through the back door. There was an apartment complex, Mill Pond. He alerted the people there that others had been attacked and shot. He was hospitalized at Denver General Hospital. When the police arrived they found the bodies. Crowell was half alive and they hospitalized her. Though she was brain dead and died from her injuries in Aurora Regional Medical Center.

Dunlap ran away with 1,500 dollars of cash and game tokens. He was arrested at his mothers apartment a few hours later. Darlene actually met Stephens and Dunlap. She got more facts on the shooter and the full story from the survivor. She said how he was behind bars when she interrogated him.

Nathan Jerard Dunlap, born April 8, 1974, was raised by his adoptive father and biological mother, who married each other when Nathan was a few months old. He had never met his biological father. His mother had schizophrenia and bipolar disorder. Atleast twice in Dunlap'slife, he tried to commit suicide.When Dunlap was 14, his adoptive father asked the psychologist at Overland High School to evaluate him, and testing revealed signs of hypomania. Scary stuff, I know. I don't know how Darlene does these cases.

"Vivian, don't worry about that girl. Sometimes we need to put up with arrogant people." Darlene says, taking a sip of her coffee. I noticed my mom's coffee on the counter next to me. I slowly snuck my hand over to her coffee. It looked good! I wanted a sip! Mom smacked my hand away. I jumped away holding my wrist jokingly offended.

"I guess you're right, Dottie, you left your comic books all over the table in the living room." Mom said, stroking my cheek and holding my chin.

"I'll go clean it in a second mom, Darlene what's been happening? Any cases?" I asked, rubbing my hands together.

"Nothing you need to know Missy, that is until Viv leaves." Darlene winked, leaning her cheek on her hand. My mom gasps dramatically and holds her hand on her chest.

I chuckled and left the kitchen. There was a pile of my magazines on the coffee table. I groaned at the sight. Since when did I become such a slob? It's fun being a slob though. Lazing around all day. Now that's the dream. I picked up my comics. It consisted of Akira, Vampirella, Daredevil, Spider man, and etc. The phone rang on the nearest coffee table next to the couch. I dropped my comics back on the middle table. If it's another advertisement call. I picked up the phone.

"Hello?" I asked, holding it up on my shoulder and picking up my scattered comics again.

"Hello (Y/n)! Can you come down to the diner? I have some new plans to show you." My good friend Henry Emily, a close friend of mine. He was friends with my dad in high school. Henry was invited over by him to have dinner with my family. Ever since I first met him at dinner I warmed up to him. I could sneak out sometimes to see him and helped him around the diner. He is a family man, very joyful. A ray of sunshine. He always had bright ideas to make others happy and do what he loves. If he would be a flower he would be a sunflower. Sweet as honey. A teddy bear of a man. His smarts were outstanding! It always amazes me at how his brain works. My best friend!

"Yeah I can come down, I'm excited to see those plans. I'll be down there soon." I said and hung up. I dropped all my comics again and put the phone down.

"Mom! I'm going to the diner!" I yelled and ran to the kitchen. Peeking out from the hallway. I don't need permission to leave but I should at least tell her where I'm going.

"Okay Dottie be safe!" Mom said and walked over to me. Holding my face and kissing my cheek. That's going to leave a mark. She's wearing red lipstcik. My nose scrunched from all the love and affection.

"Mooommm!" I whined.

"Bye (Y/n)!" Darlene waved.

~~~~

"Thank you for coming (Y/n), I got some new ideas for the animatronic I'm working for you." Henry said, waving his hands around excitedly.

"Is this about Trickster? Oh! Now you got me all excited!" I said with a bounce in my step.

"Yes it is! I got the blue prints all ready and I was hoping you'd come and help me pick out the materials you want her to be made with." Henry asks, looking down at me. Trickster was a jester animatronic that he was making for me that is inspired off of me. This little project has been going on for months now. He led me inside his office and opened the door for me.

I looked over his desk. There were blueprints of Trickster. A clown animatronic with (h/c) (h/l) hair and a hat that has outstretched on two sides with jingle bells. The hat was (f/c) and white. Around her neck was a ruffled collar that stood out at every end. There were light reddish pinks on her cheeks and nose, red lips, and blue eye shadows. Jingle bell dangle earrings hung from her ears. A (f/c) corset with a ribbon tying in the middle. Ribbon bow straps around her arms that were also (f/c). Pearls that slung down her arms, neck, and thighs. A (f/c) tutu that pointed outwards with jingle bells on the ends of it. A lace thigh harness. Jingle bell ribbons around her wrists and thigh. Lastly was Mary Janes with white Lace ruffled socks to top it all off.

My pride and joy. I came up with this design with Henry. I remember the awe on our faces when the final design came to be. Now it's time to choose what to make it out of. What I didn't notice was how Henry was admiring me. My fingertips traced the thin lining of the blue prints drawing.

"I was thinking that for its endoskeleton we would give it a thin skeleton with all the wires connecting in the middle. The shape of it will be similar to the human skeleton. The head should be smaller than the body. The wires will make it move and the control flannel. That will be in the center. The chest capsule. The control planned will be programmed with movement and commands to give to Trickster. Then we'll have a voice box in the throat that you've picked out." Henry rambled writing what he was saying on another piece of paper next to the blueprints on top of a folder labeled 'Trickster prototype.'

"You should probably make her out of light-ish things. Nothing too heavy that the endoskeleton couldn't take. Maybe something like aluminum and steel? For the wires we can use rubber. The servos will be all around. Arms, legs, hips, you know the rest. The sphero RVR will be in the parts that most need support like the chest, legs, head, and arm. The tensorflow will be with the motherboard in the chest or it can be in the head. Either one is okay really. It's just to do tasks. The cameras should be in the eyes too. How does that sound?" I explained tapping the pencil on the desk against my lips. Moving my fingers to what parts should be where.

I learned this geeky computer and robotics stuff from my science robots club. It's an engineering club that they held when I was back in high school. I took what I learned and ran wild with it. Though I was teased for it. Always being called a nerd and being thrown in trash cans.

"You always amaze me (Y/n)," Henry said, pushing his hair back with a grin looking down at his newly made list of things I rambled about. I nodded bashfully.

"I should get back to work now but we'll hang out later (Y/n), how does a movie and dinner sound?" Henry asks, rubbing his hands together.

"Sure! I'd love to see the twins again." I beamed. Sammy would always jump in my arms and make me hold him. He would never leave even for his parents. Always a quiet little sweetheart. He would read books with me. He would sit on my lap and flip through the pages after I read them to him.

"I'm sure he and Charlie would love to see you. Now I should get back to work, we'll have it on Friday at eight." Henry said and sat down at his desk. I was leaning on it using my arms as support.

"I'll see ya later Henry," I hugged him leaning into his touch. He held me back and rested his head on mine. Henry pulled away but I was still holding onto him. He chuckled and hugged me again. I finally pulled away. I closed the door behind me.

Maybe I should go bother Will. I walked to the office that wasn't too far away from Henry's office. On the door read 'W.A." I knocked on the door and walked right inside. There William Afton sat at his desk tapping his finger on his desk while his other hand held his head stressfully.

"Sod off, I didn't even tell you to come in." William groaned not looking up from his work.

"Wow, not even a hello?" I said smirking, leaning against the doorway. He finally looked up from his work. He softened with a smile, lifting his head from his work.

My friend, William Afton. A sophisticated man. He is practical and cold. Though at the same time he is a tease. I met him through Henry. He is known as Henry's best friend and partner in the business. Henry brought me in to work to have me help around and spend more time with him. Henry introduced me to Will when he was coming out of the spring Bonnie suit. We would see each other more and more around the diner. Though he ignored me and was annoyed at me trying to talk to him every time, till I dealt with animatronic fix. I repaired the broken Spring Fredbear parts. He was actually amazed at my work! Though he wouldn't admit it, it still showed. Since then we've been friends. Let's just say, it took a year for him to warm up to me...

"Come here dearest, have you come to help us again?" William asked, his British accent slipping out. He went back to working on the papers.

"Yes I have, I just got done talking to Henry about our little project. Relax a bit, Will." I said, walking behind him and rubbing his shoulders.

"You know how I love that, duchess." He sat back leaning into my hands. When he gets stressed he gets snappy. The last thing I need is him being snappy. I love little moments like this. He's rarely showing his sweet side. I feel him relax under me.

"Now what's got you so stressed out?" I asked him palming his back. He sighed happily leaning his head back.

"Just work. I have so many papers on the company's taxes and ordering more supplies. Food for the chiefs, materials for the animatronics, more plates and silverware, and you know the rest. Just keeping the building running. It's been so stressful lately." William pauses on his words as if he was forgetting his worries.

"Adulting is hard. I feel bad for you. Why don't you take a break?" I patted his shoulder. He picked up his pen and started signing off his papers.

"Because my job is very important, (Y/n)." William said not looking up from his papers.

"When's the due date?" I asked, tilting my head.

"In two weeks." William said. I picked up his pencil and threw it far away. He looked up at me with a gruff on his face. The corners of his lip twitched.

"Oops." I said smiling. William sighed leaning back in his chair. Tapping his finger against the desk.

"Guess I'll have a break, so dearest, what did you have in mind?" William asked, putting his elbows on the table, his fingers intertwining together, and resting his hand on the back of his hands.

"Want to play cards?" I suggested pulling out his card deck in his desk side drawer. I shuffled them on his desk.

"What will we play?"

~~~~

The door slammed behind me. I was kicked out of William's office by yours truly. All because I won a game of monopoly.

Maybe I should become a millionaire.

[zer0wzs]

hihihi!!! i love ur work sm!! would u possibly write something about ryro :-) something fluffy like cuddling or something ^_^ thanks!!

𝙨𝙞𝙢𝙥𝙡𝙞𝙘𝙞𝙩𝙞𝙚𝙨, 𝙨𝙞𝙢𝙥𝙡𝙞𝙘𝙞𝙩𝙞𝙚𝙨 ( 𝙞𝙣𝙙𝙪𝙡𝙜𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚𝙨 )

[ gn!reader ] if an evening with him is what you want, it certainly is what you'll get wc :: 647 ryro x reader

AN :: hii!!!! this is my first ever req here omg!! i hope this ok thank u so much ure so kind ^_^ 🫶 um if there are any typos ill correct em later HAHA im sleepy T-T

Needless to say, you missed him.

Crap, if you had to be honest, you’re almost certain that you spent a significant part of your day just wanting to be with him.

Who could blame you, though?

You’re sure that anyone who has ever had the privilege of knowing, loving him could never be the same ever again. You’re sure you aren’t. He’s changed you—you reckon for the better.

Your whole day was a miserable waiting game. From the moment you set foot outside your bedroom (Ryan was still out like a child.) to the final moments of your trip back home, all you could do was just wish for time to take itself more seriously and pass by faster.

Like a bored high schooler in their math class, you’d been watching, waiting for the seconds to count down.

Needless to say, you were impatient.

Finally, you reached the footsteps of the door. You find yourself haphazardly going through your bag for your keys and making multiple attempts at jamming it in the door. Patience. Patience is something you lacked, clearly.

“Oh, hey, babe. How was your da-”

When you got the key in and opened the door, without thought—almost like instinct, or perhaps just an overwhelming need, your body kicked your shoes at the entrance, locked the door, and dashed to Ryan, who was sprawled out lazily on the couch. Heedless, you stay put, resting on top of him.

“Oof.” He buzzed with his small chuckle that filled rooms up. He immediately pulled you further into his arms, then carded his fingers through the strands of your hair.

“Are you okay?” You feel a sense of worry laced in his words.

You hummed. That was enough for him to know that you were alright. Clearing it up, you mumbled into his shirt a soft, “I just missed you.”

Not missing a beat, he replies, “I missed you too.”

For a few moments, both of your eyes are glued to the TV.

You find this whole moment you’re sharing at least a little funny because, parallel to the two of you, Ryan was watching Goodfellas. In fact, what was playing as you two were cuddled up was the spider scene.

More than distracted, though, you looked around the living room and saw Elwood and Dottie snuggled up against each other in a similar fashion to you two.

While out of concern, you already knew the answer to your question and yet asked, “Has Dottie eaten yet?”

“Mhm.” He answered, nodding.

Maybe you just wanted some attention. No, you knew you did. “What about Elwood?”

“Yes, dear.” He laughed, bringing a hand up your cheek and squeezing it. Seems like he knows it very well himself, too. “Have you eaten anything yet?”

“Mmmmmmm.” You buzzed, smiling at him—be it a mix of both giddiness and guiltiness.

“Ahh,” he clicked his tongue. “I haven’t either. Come on, I’ll make us something.”

As you felt him bring the both of you up, you made a quick effort to stay put on the sofa. “No.” you pouted.

“Hmm?” He replied, turning his head to the side in slight confusion.

“I wanna stay like this first.” You said, wrapping your arms around his waist as tight as you could as you buried your face in the crook of his neck.

It’s not that it felt like he’d disappear if you let him go. Like, he would—only to make you guys some food. It’s just that you’re just really fucking clingy, and you wanted his touch and full attention all to yourself right now.

But what’s the harm in that when he assures—more like enables—you?

“Alright.” You feel his smile radiate above you, brushing his knuckles with a feather-light touch against your cheekbone.

Yeah, you both know you’re both all to each other right now. What’s the matter with a little bit of indulgence?

[presleyhearted]

Yours Truly - Chapter 13: People and Promises.

・❥・pairing: Elvis x original female character

・❥・genre: slow burn, mystery, angst, fluff.

・❥・wc: 5.1k

・❥・summary: In which a 21-year-old girl suddenly finds herself having consecutive dreams of a particular rock ‘n’ roll star whom she has never met and who died 45 years ago.

・❥・ ratings & warnings: SFW. none.

chapter index | prev | chapter 13.5

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"For a long time, she held a special place in my heart. I kept this special place just for her, like a 'reserved' sign on a quiet corner table in a restaurant." - Haruki Murakami.

NOVA

THE HOURS PASSED by in fruitful conversation with Great Aunt Odette. It fluctuated between earnest expressions and sentences, to ignition of laughter that centered around silliness of memories past. I was grateful that after unearthing my secret to someone, to her, she did not push me further with questions. It didn't mean she brushed off my confession, nor showed any signs of dubiety towards it. It was like I kept a firm, tightly secured room and I let her inside. By opening the door for her, she encouraged a breath of fresh air to travel into the room of my mind. That is and always will be the magic of Auntie Dottie - you know she believes you, you just do, no matter how incredulous you may seem. And if she doesn't, you'll know too. But in the aftermath, she prevents your mind from racing into a spiral of thoughts - she is flitting in getting a burst of laughter or two out of you, smoothly transitioning both topic and mood to lighter subjects. 

"It's disgraceful that it's already half four." Auntie Dottie shakes her head, looking down at the watch wrapped around her pale wrist. 

"I know." I sigh, "Sorry that I've got to go." 

She chuckles, "Oh, hush child. This is the true antagonist of all, " She gestures at her watch, "Time."

And I know that she purposely used literature terminology. 

"The invisible enemy you can't defeat. " I chuckle.

She nods, "No, you cannot. . . but you can run against it." Her lips slide into a wide smile, the type of smile that evokes a sense of secrecy. This, paired with a twinkle in her eyes - a look that has surpassed my childhood. 

Auntie Dottie steps forward and wraps her arms around me, a bundle of warmth swims around my body. It's a while before she parts from the hug, and when she does, she remains in her place. Her hands cup my cheeks, amidst the rising coldness of the autumn wind. 

"You are always running, Nova. I do not think you have realized it, hm?" 

I say nothing, unable to detect what exactly she is saying. Instead, I shake my head. 

"When you stumble upon a question, don't you chase for those answers? I believe you do. I also believe. . . that is no different from searching and embracing the newness in life. You chase knowledge quite ardently, why not chase life? However, yes, certainty is sparse when you do that. But you'll know, that when the parallels of time and life do meet one day, you can be certain that you know you did all you can." 

I release a deep breath that I didn't acknowledge to be holding. Auntie Dottie releases her hold of my cheeks and takes a step back. She tilts her head at me with a knowing smile on her face. At that moment, my parents' words flood my mind, but the thought quickly speeds past me as Great Aunt Odette speaks again. 

"If you remain in the mundane, in the expected - it leaves no room for magic. " Her voice reduces to a whisper at the end, "And well, you and I both know that there is a part of you that still wants to chase a little bit of magic." 

Her eyes flit over to the hardbound cover of literature that I am holding in my right hand. 

Peter Pan and Wendy. 

The very book that was once forever lost in the corners of my childhood mind. 

I am at a loss for words, but I know myself well enough that her words will be circling my mind for a number of days. 

"Thank you, Auntie Dottie. " 

She nods and with another gust of wind, assembling the rustling of auburn leaves on the ground, Auntie Dottie's smile turns into a smirk. 

"Well, dear, you best go now. The clock is ticking." She says. 

・‥...━━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━━...‥・

The journey back to the city was filled with the quick darkening of the sky, making me miss summer skies. I had my playlist playing quietly in the background as I drove, just enough to keep me company. But not at a volume that shuts out my thoughts. 

None of what I rehearsed to say actually made the cut. The drive to Great Aunt Odette this morning involved practicing the multiple ways in which I could tell her about the situation. Nonetheless, the fact still stands that I have finally revealed it to someone. Hearing your own thoughts in your head, and actually omitting them into sentences? Both are vastly different. I'm glad that I did, albeit how nervous I was, it gave me this immense relief. Of course, it wasn't surprising that Great Aunt Odette listened, but for her to wholeheartedly believe me? I guess, I wasn't quite ready for that and for the feeling of relief that it brought. 

Even more so, a walk down memory lane - the book. The book that she explained was basically my favorite thing in the world as a kid. That was an unexpected part of my visit, but then again, I should've seen it coming - seeing as Great Aunt Odette's forte is the unexpected. 

I suppose I can't quite believe that I didn't remember that book. Sure I was a kid, but It wasn't like I was three years old, making me inevitably forget about it. Why can't I recall it? I suppose I'll blame it on the ladder of growing up, and the stresses that slowly creep into one as one enters adulthood. To blame it on time. 

Time. 

Great Aunt Odette's words regarding it, and its correlation with life - I was at a loss for words. She knows me all too well. I knew that there was an inevitable end for everyone, but hearing how she explained it woke me up more. The realization that time will pass, this life will end before I know it and that will be it. A terrifying concept that makes me shake my head, as I grip the steering wheel. 

It lies in the question of; if it ends today, am I okay with that? Am I content with how I lived?

Not entirely. 

・‥...━━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━━...‥・

After two hours, the driving finally came to an end. I turn off the ignition, grab my small purse and the book, and walk up to the entrance of the building. I was in no mood to climb two flights of stairs, as my body craved the comfort of my bed after the hours-long drive. But with the building's elevator under maintenance, I had no choice. 

As I insert the key and swing the door open, I am immediately greeted by the exclamation of my roommate slash friend. He appears in the doorway at lightning speed it seems. 

"Oh my fucking God."

"Hey." I let out a yawn, "Oh gosh, I'm so tired." 

"No shit, Nova. You just drove for TWO hours? Well, actually FOUR hours. But still, holy shit?" He exclaims in disbelief, grinning brightly at me.

I walk to the living room and place my stuff on the table, as I flop my body onto the couch. 

"Yeah, I did."

"You hear that Lottie?" He says to the phone in his hand, as he faces the screen to me. 

"Oh! Hi, Lottie!" I say, waving at her despite the exhaustion slowly taking over me. 

"Nova Katerina Sinclair, I am in complete shock." She laughs. 

I look at both of them quizzically, "At my driving?"

"No, you idiot!" Charlotte replies, shaking her head at my confusion. 

"Then what?"

"When you texted me saying that you'll be visiting your Great Aunt, and won't be able to meet me for lunch. . . I shit you not, I thought your phone was stolen." Luke raises his hands in defense, emphasizing his points.

"What?" I let out a laugh, "What are you on about?"

"Then imagine my reaction when Luke told me about it." Charlotte chimes in. 

"Guys, I still don't get it."

"It's just- it's so unbelievable. When did you make the decision to go?"

I shrug, "This morning. Spur of the moment decision." 

Luke turns the phone screen to himself, eyes wide, and returns it back to face me. 

"It just sounded so un-Nova of you."

I had to laugh, "Un-Nova?"

"Yeah. You don't just go somewhere just because. You literally have a whole damn color-coded calendar for fuck's sake!" Luke says, dramatically. 

"Oh." The realization settles in me, they found that unusual. Was it really that out of character?

"Then I asked Luke to make sure it wasn't an emergency because that would explain your sudden spontaneity. But when he said that you messaged nothing of the sort, I was like, " Charlotte's eyes widen as she retells the situation, "Well, holy fucking shit."

"I didn't even. . . " I shrug, "I don't know, I just felt like it." 

"Are you sure you are Nova?" 

Luke looks up at the ceiling with his hands in the air, "Has the Earth just shifted its fucking axis?" 

I laugh at his dramatics, "Is it really that big of a deal guys?" 

"Yes!" They reply simultaneously. 

"Bad or good?"

"Definitely good."

"It's fucking fantastic, bestie."

・‥...━━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━━...‥・

After much interrogation from Charlotte and Luke, I was finally able to settle down into my bed. Their shock at my actions didn't phase out quickly, even if I retold the entire ordeal in detail. Well, of course, leaving out the part about the actual reason I decided to visit Great Aunt Odette. I love them to death, but revealing that whole situation - revealing him - that's absolutely out of the question. 

I glance at the clock opposite my bed, reading the time : 8:45PM. 

Some say that is far too early to be going to sleep, which even I can agree with. I normally find myself drifting off to sleep at 10.30PM most nights, purely because of assignments and how I can't seem to completely escape my thoughts. It's like a thousand sealed vaults in my mind all suddenly opening at the same time, and endlessly overlapping one another. It's when I then tend to believe that the mind, and the brain are independent of each other. The brain generates knowledge and helps you process through the essential, practical things of life. The mind on the other hand, that's where all your deepest thoughts wander in. The mind houses the thoughts that is centred around yourself. Constantly editing and rewinding how you were before, right now, and in the future. It's the source of both reflection and destruction. 

The mind is a maze that you can so easily get yourself lost in, and I am all too familiar with that. Except for this time, where the fatigue of my physical body has fortunately pulled me into a slumber before any overthinking can generate. My eyes were heavy with tiredness, I felt this lift slowly as I shut them. 

"Woah, so pretty!"

"She's just like a princess!"

"Oh. I know! She's like snow white!"

"Shh. . . we might wake her up."

"But she's been asleep for so long-"

"What if you need to kiss her, Mister Elvis?"

Voices. I hear multiple voices, which only makes me open my eyes in curiosity. I seem to be lying down, with the blue sky right above me. My head turns in all directions, as I find the owners of the voices. A few children surround me, but their chatter seems to have come to a stop at the sight of my opened eyes. 

"Lookin' for me?" A familiar voice catches my senses, as I turn around to my right to see him a few feet away. He stands facing me, but the left side of his body leaning against a tree with his arms crossed over his chest. His foot so casually crossed over the other, as I saw that lopsided grin prominent on his face. 

I don't fail to notice that it's another version of himself that he's showing me. His hair was still stark black but with very noticeable sideburns accompanying it. Definitely 1970s. He wears a black shirt with a floral design, black pants, and boots. It's always interesting to see how he appears to me in each dream, but one thing I'm certain about - Elvis Presley was unapologetically fashionable. 

Elvis quirks an eyebrow at me, no doubt awaiting my response. I just hope he didn't notice that I stared for a while, well, only because I was curious about his attire. An attire that I am well aware of has a few buttons opened at the front, clearly exposing his tanned chest. 

I find myself clearing my throat. 

"And what if I wasn't?" I say jokingly, as I feel an uncontrollable smile pull at my lips. 

He chuckles quietly to himself and nods. Elvis takes a few steps before he is right beside me, as the children part to give him space. He takes a glance at the children and releases a dramatic sigh, "Well, kids, it looks like we have a liar among us." 

I gasp, "Elvis!" 

They giggle. 

Elvis laughs, "Yes, honey?" 

I push off my hands, sitting myself up. It appears that I am wearing a short, white summer dress with roses adorning the design. In my previous dream, it was the colder season, which is far from the outfit that I seem to be wearing at this moment. But then again, the sky is blue and clear, and the chilling bite of the cold appears to be absent. So, I guess it's summer now in this dream? 

"Oh, look! Miss Nova, you and Mister Elvis have flowers on your clothes!" One of the children, the girl with a beautiful, dark complexion alerts me in glee. Her finger pointed enthusiastically at my attire and Elvis.' 

My eyes cast over his shirt and my dress, and evidently, we seem to both be wearing a floral design. My cheeks heat up unexpectedly. 

I exchanged a look with him, which he returns with a proud smirk, "Why, I believe you're right, lil' Dorothy." 

"But mine looks better, right?" I ask, smiling at the girl, whose name I know now is Dorothy. 

She nods vigorously with a cheeky smile. 

"Ouch," Elvis says. 

"B-But yours looks nice too Mister Elvis!" Dorothy quickly sputters out.

"Thank you, sweetheart."

"I think you look cool, Mister Elvis." One of the boys, with sandy blonde hair and crystal blue eyes, says encouragingly. 

"I appreciate it, Ollie." He smiles, patting the boy on the head. 

Elvis throws me a triumphant grin, "Oh, how the tables have turned." 

"You're unbelievable." 

Unbelievably gorgeous. 

My brain echoes a thought, in which I furiously shake my head noticing my cheeks heat up. 

Elvis swiftly pulls the conversation into properly introducing me to the children. There are four of them in total, two boys and two girls. I would guess they are around five or six years old, but that's just judging by their heights. Nonetheless, if I believe that Elvis is real and he's appearing from the afterlife, then that must only mean one thing - these children are those of the afterlife too. All of them died young. I feel my eyes water the slightest bit, which I quickly shake off. My sadness at the thought can't be displayed, not with the children's happy smiles as they chatter excitedly. 

"Dorothy, Ollie, Maisie, and Alfie!" I say, pointing at them one by one, learning their names. 

"Yay!" They cheer in glee. They run up to me and wrap their arms around me, well, more like my legs because of their height. I am taken aback and laugh, finding myself bending down a little to wrap my arms around them as best as I can. Not even a minute later, they are chattering amongst themselves, still not letting go of me though.

I look up, feeling his eyes on me. Elvis' eyes pierce through mine, his tongue smoothly swipes over his lips as he mouths words to me. 

I arch an eyebrow in confusion. 

He chuckles and mouths it again but with more exaggeration. 

"I've missed you." He mouths. 

Oh. Oh. 

Wait. . . did I interpret that correctly? 

It's really only been twenty-four hours. 

Suddenly, I feel the need to blame the sun for the sudden heat that I feel bleed on my skin. That would've been simple if it weren't for a slight skip that I feel in my chest. . . because that certainly cannot be the sun's doing. 

I tilt my head at him, "Really?" I mouth back, smiling. 

He doesn't say anything back like I thought he would. Instead, he strides forward until he's right behind me. Effectively finding a space, despite the bunch of kids that surround me. 

His chest is pressed to my back, a fact that only escalates the thump I feel in my heart. My breath seems to be trapped in my throat. His hands brush slightly against my shoulder, as he takes a lock of my hair and tucks it behind my ear. 

I feel his breath tickle my cheek as he leans in to whisper, "Always." 

・‥...━━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━━...‥・

Not too long later, I found myself sitting down on a field of grass with the children in a circle. I sat with the girls and the boys sat with Elvis. So, technically, not a circle as they sat quite a few feet away from us. The children insisted on a girls versus boys team. Upon hearing this, I expected to be playing a sport. But instead, here we are, making friendship bracelets. 

"This is really fun, " I admit to them honestly, "I haven't done this in so long." 

A box full of a variety of beads, elastic bands, and sticker sheets sat on the grass. I smile at Dorothy and Maisie, as I loop some beads through the elastic band in my hand - starting a new bracelet. It reminded me so much of my childhood, how during breaks in elementary school, we'd all be crowding around the craft area to find ourselves what we needed to make DIY 'friendship' bracelets. 

"It's my favorite thing in the entire world, Miss Nova!" Maisie says enthusiastically, as she leans over to a few shiny beads from the box. 

I chuckle, "I see that. I'm guessing your favorite color is pink?" I gesture towards the three finished pink-colored bracelets, which mirror the same color as her dress and shoes. 

She nods, smiling widely "Yes. Yes."

So adorable and so young. They didn't deserve to leave the world so young, with so much joy and life they never got to live. 

I feel a tug on the skirt of my dress, I turn my head to see Dorothy. 

"You okay, sweetie?"

"What is your favorite color, Miss Nova?" She asks, her hazel eyes awaiting my response. 

"Hm. . . um, I guess red. Yeah, I like red." 

"Okay! I'll make you a red one!" Dorothy replies, taking a handful of red beads, stickers, and an elastic band from the box. 

It's quiet for a while, in which I find myself taking a curious glance at Elvis and the boys. It seems that each boy is holding each of his arms, as they fit the bracelets on his wrist. It also appears that he has several bracelets on either arm, which I couldn't help but chuckle at the boys' enthusiasm. 

"Can I tell you something, Miss Nova?" Maisie asks me, as I turn to face her finding her tilting her orange-braided hair at me. Adorable. 

"Of course." I smile. 

"It's nice to have another girl to make bracelets with us, " She then pauses to release a sad sigh, "Because it has only been me and Dorothy." 

"I am happy to be here, Maisie." 

"Maisie's right," Dorothy jumps into the conversation, "It's really nice. It was nice when it was me and Maisie, because we are best friends forever. Mister Elvis is nice and makes bracelets with us, b-but he's a boy." She sighs. 

The braided girl nods agreeing with her friend's words, "Yeah, he's on the boys' team. We needed one more girl." 

I chuckle at how adorable they are, "Here I am." 

"Thank you, Miss Nova. For being on our team and for Mister Elvis." 

They nodded to each other. 

"Mister Elvis?" I repeat, not quite understand what the kids meant in the latter of their sentence. 

"Yes, for making him happy," Maisie replies cheerfully, as she ties the end of the newly-finished bracelet in her hands. 

"Oh, well-"

"He's happy when me, Maisie, Ollie, and Alfie see him. But when he's not looking," Dorothy pauses and whispers, "You promise to keep a secret?"

I accept the pinky promise, "I promise."

Dorothy then continues, but making sure to keep her voice lowered. 

"Sometimes we spy on him. We find a wall or a tree or a bus stop, and we hide. And he's not smiling no more. He's crying a lot, Miss Nova. And if he's not crying, he looks very sad. But now you're here, he smiles," Dorothy explains. 

"All the time," Maisie adds. 

My heart simultaneously crashes and mends at their words. It reminds me of Miss Esther's words to me at the cafe. How she described Elvis being 'very down' before I appeared. Now that the same words have come from more than one person, it almost makes me want to ask him about it. Not too directly, because I fear it's not something he wants to talk about. But I just feel this need to know what was it that made his emotions blend so easily with the dark of the night sky. For his eyes to cascade with tears so endlessly like the rush of a waterfall. I didn't need to know, but I want to know. I want to know what so desperately what hurt him enough for his emotions to slip out of the confines of his heart, and out into the open. 

But I know that will be easier said than done. Answering serious questions isn't exactly something that Elvis is fond of. It reminds me of the time when I asked him a series of questions, and he responded with only one word. But that didn't end well, with him being in a flood of tears. I don't want to cause that. I'll ask him eventually, but not now. . . just not now. 

"That's seven, Dorothy!" Maisie's voice snaps me out of my thoughts. 

"Oh, I know!" Dorothy claps her hands excitedly.

I look down and sure enough, the girls have made seven friendship bracelets combined. 

"Wow, that's a lot. You girls work fast." I say, clapping for them as they grin proudly at my compliment. 

"Thanks, Miss Nova. But not as many bracelets as Mister Elvis." Dorothy admitted. 

I glance over to Elvis and sure enough, friendship bracelets take up the entirety of his right arm. His sleeves rolled up. Elvis must've felt my eyes on him, as he looked up with a mock defeated look in his eyes. Those boys are really on their way to decorating his arms like the lights on a Christmas tree, and I can't help but laugh at the expression on his face. 

"Yeah, I can't exactly argue with that." 

"Not those bracelets, Miss Nova."

I turn away and face the girls. 

"Oh, then which ones?" I furrow my eyebrows. 

"You don't know?" Dorothy questions with a frown. 

Well, isn't that a million-dollar question? Seriously. 

I shake my head. 

"The ones he made for you," Maisie says casually as if it's the most obvious answer in the world. 

"For me?"

They both nod, as they use their fingers to count. No doubt counting how many bracelets Elvis made. . . for me. 

"Twelve. I-I think?" Maisie says, nodding with Dorothy. 

"Wow, that's um, that's definitely a lot." I chuckle.

"That's what we said too. People make friendship bracelets for people they care about. " Dorothy shrugs, "Mister Elvis made twelve for you. He must care about you like, I don't know, like a trillion times more." She chuckles, holding her fingers up as if she lost count. 

Every time I'm with him, in these dreams - I can never predict what will happen. The spontaneity of his character blended with the reserved nature of mine. That is a stark contrast. Each dream that I spent with him so far, has been full of experiences that I've never had before. All quite. . . grand and eventful. But this one right here, this unknown discovery, this small surprise - renders me speechless just the same.

No matter how uncertain I am about many things related to my dreams, I am certain about one thing. Nobody makes a dozen bracelets for a random girl. For a stranger. It brings me back to the question I asked him, a while ago, but feeling so long ago now:

Who am I to you, Elvis?

・‥...━━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━━...‥・

After what felt like an hour, we said our goodbyes to the children. The time with them wasn't only filled with making friendship bracelets, but also playing along with their games of hide and seek, and games at the park. They were an adorable bunch, but soon enough, daylight turned into night. In which, we found the children had lost their energy, and were ready to close their eyes into a slumber.

Now, Elvis and I walked down a long stretch of rural road. The gravel released a 'crunch' sound each time my feet met the ground. On either side of the road, a row of cypress trees accompanied the landscape. A picturesque atmosphere of solitude and beauty, with the blanket of the night sky overlaying everything around us. 

"Elvis, no! That's horrible!" I gasp, hitting his arm playfully. 

Elvis simply laughs. He laughs and even though, I've heard him laugh quite a few times before - but I notice something different this time. Well, not anything new, but just something I've never noticed before. He has a kind of hiccup to his laugh, it's just so distinctly him. It's melodious, as it always is. To the point where I semi-forget what he just told me, and end up laughing along with him. 

He points at me, "But you're laughing, honey!"

"No! It's just- it's horrible!" I try desperately reinstating my disagreed expression. 

We were talking about what more was on my list, and what was the next thing. This then went down the topic of conversation around theme parks. Now, I think theme parks are great, they are wonderful. But definitely not a fan of. . . rollercoasters. In this case, Elvis tells me he has a story about rollercoasters. He tells me how he'll get on a rollercoaster with a friend, or a date, and just before halfway - he jumps out. Logically, whoever he's with, ends up screaming and thinking the worst has happened to him. But there he was, on the sidelines, all safe and laughing his ass off at their reaction. 

"It was hellavu lot of fun," He defends, shaking his head as he grins at the memory. 

"Well, It's clear that you and I have different definitions of fun."

"Just try it, honey."

I squint my eyes at him, "I, well-"

He puts his hands up in defense, "I promise. . . no surprises." He says, with a smirk on his lips. Elvis sure does love the unpredictable, almost crazy things that he comes up with - it makes it impossible to believe him when he says this. 

"No jumping?" 

He shakes his head, "Nope."

"Here, gimme your hand," He urges, and I do so. 

He takes my hand in his and intertwines our pinkies, "What do ya want me to promise?" Elvis questions, a pure smile wrapped on his face, all void of playfulness. 

"That if. . . if I go on a rollercoaster with you, or that matter whenever you're with me - you won't do something batshit crazy. If you do, because I swear if you do, I-I'll never-"

He cuts me off, "Speak to me again?"

"Recover, " I say, my tone quiet as I look away from his gaze. I know this is all a dream, but I also have to face the possibility of things treading beyond what I think a dream is and what it is not. 

I am aware that Elvis does not. . . physically exist in the real world anymore. But here, right now, with me he's very real. And as far as I am concerned, if I can control one thing - in this mayhem of dreams - it's his safety. 

I swallow as I try to find my voice again, "I don't want to see you hurt." 

I gain the strength to face his way again, and his mouth begins to form words - seems like he's figuring out how to say something. But he holds himself back, resulting in a simple nod, "Okay, I promise." He whispers, intertwining our pinkies together. 

I clear my throat, in an attempt to dissipate the tense atmosphere. Elvis doesn't let go of my hand, instead effectively intertwining our hands together. The warm press of his palm on mine, as he squeezes my hand in reassurance. He has held my hand before, but this time - it doesn't fall loosely. It's tighter, but not heavy and unbearable. There's more urgency and a sense of security in this one, like an invisible armor separating us from whatever treacherous obstacles we might encounter. 

The purest message of a promise. 

His gaze joins mine, as I look down at our joined hands. 

"I'll be right beside ya. No one's gonna be hurt. " Elvis says, softly. 

I nod. 

I clear my throat, "Right then, where are you taking me?" I smile curiously at him. 

And just like that, in a flash, his cool laid-back demeanor returns. 

Elvis bites down his bottom lip, as he slowly tugs onto my hand - walking a few steps before me, but nevertheless, still facing me. 

"Just one question, darlin'." 

"Which is?" 

"Do you trust me?" He asks, with a mischievous grin along with that beautiful twinkle in his blue eyes. 

"Always." I breathe out in reply, without a second of hesitation. And perhaps, it's a word that is so easy for me to slip out of my mouth - so easy to say to him. Almost as automatic as breathing in air. 

Elvis chuckles, swiftly planting a kiss on my knuckles and tugging me forward until my chest is pressed against his. I squeal at the action. 

"Let's go."

・‥...━━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━━...‥・

taglist:

@literally-just-elvis-fics

@obsessedwithurlove

@simplyamberj

[clover-warriorcats-main]

All Named Animal Characters In Warrior Cats A–Z (PART 1)

COPIED OFF OF THE WARRIORS WIKI

(UPDATED AS OF IVYPOOL'S HEART)

* MAY CONTAIN NAME BASED SPOILERS *

* THIS LIST CONTAINS ALL NAMED CHARACTERS ASIDE FROM HUMANS *

* I DON'T THINK I MISSED ANYONE? *

* LONG LIST BELOW CUT *

PART 2

- A -

Acorn Fur

Acornpaw

Acorntail

Adderfang

Adderkit

Adderpaw (WC)

Ajax

Alder

Alderheart

Algernon

Amberclaw

Amberleaf

Ambermoon

Antfur

Antpelt

Apple Blossom

Appledawn

Appledusk

Applefrost

Applefur (OOTS)

Applefur (TF)

Appleshine

Arc

Arc Shadow

Archeye

Ashfoot

Ashfur (ShC)

Ashfur (TC)

Ashheart

Aspenfall

Aspentail

- B -

Bacon

Badgerfang

Bailey

Barkface

Barley

Bayshine

Beach

Bee (CotP)

Bee (Ro)

Beech

Beech Tail

Beechfur (RC)

Beechfur (TC)

Beechpaw (SkC)

Beechstar

Beenose

Beepaw (SkC)

Beetail

Beetle

Beetlenose

Beetlepaw (SkC)

Beetlewhisker

Bella (KP)

Bellaleaf

Benny

Berryheart

Berrynose

Bess

Betsy

Bigteeth

Billystorm

Birch

Birchbark

Birchface

Birchfall

Birchpaw (ASC)

Birchstar (RC)

Birchstar (SkC)

Birchstar (WC)

Bird That Rides The Wind

Birdflight

Birdsong

Birdwing

Birdy

Black Ear

Blackbee

Blackclaw

Blackstar

Blade

Blazefire

Blizzardstar

Blizzardwing

Bloomheart

Bloomkit

Blossom

Blossomfall

Blossomheart

Blossomkit (ShC)

Blue Whisker

Bluebellkit

Bluestar

Bob

Bone

Boots

Boulder

Boulderfur

Bouncefire

Bound Hunt

Bracken

Brackenfoot

Brackenfur

Brackenheart

Brackenpelt

Brackenwing

Bramble

Brambleberry

Brambleclaw(star)

Branch (DotC)

Branch (HJ)

Branchkit

Brandy

Braveheart

Breeze That Rustles The Leaves

Breezeheart

Breezepelt

Briarlight

Brick

Bright Stream

Brightflower

Brightheart

Brightsky

Brightspirit

Brightwhisker

Brindleclaw

Brindleface

Brindlestar

Brindlewing

Bristlebark

Bristlefrost

Bristlepaw (ASC)

Broken Feather

Broken Shadow

Brokenstar

Brook Where Small Fish Swim

Brookkit

Brownpaw

Brushpaw

Bubbling Stream

Bug

Bugeater

Bumble

Bumblestripe

Bunny (Dog)

Burr

Buster

Buttercup

Buzzardkit

Buzzardstar

- C -

Casper

Cedarheart

Cedarpelt (RC)

Cedarstar

Chalk

Chasing Clouds

Cheddar

Cherryfall

Cherryfeather

Cherrypaw

Cherrytail

Chester

Chestnut

Chestnutkit

Chirp

Chiveclaw

Cinderfur

Cinderheart

Cinderpelt

Cinders

Cinnamontail

Claw

Claw Stretch

Clawface

Clawwhistle

Cleo

Cloud (Sister)

Cloud Spots

Cloud With Star In Belly

Cloud With Storm In Belly

Cloudberry (RC)

Cloudberry (TC)

Cloudmist

Cloudpelt

Cloudrunner

Cloudstar

Cloudtail

Cloudy

Cloudy Sun

Clover (TC)

Cloverfoot

Cloversplash

Clovertail

Coal (FQ)

Coal (TNP)

Cobweb

Coco (DK)

Coco (PK)

Cody

Conefoot

Copperpaw

Cora

Coriander (BrS)

Coriander (DK)

Cow (MFV)

Creek

Creek

Creekfeather

Crest Of Snowy Mountain

Cricket (DotC)

Cricketkit

Croak

Crookedstar

Crouchfoot

Crow Muzzle

Crowfeather

Crowfrost

Crowfur

Crowtail

Crystal

Curlfeather

Curlypaw

Curry

Cypresspaw

- D -

Daffodil

Daisy (DK)

Daisy (TC)

Daisyheart

Daisytail

Daisytoe

Dancing Leaf

Dandelionkit

Dangling Leaf

Dappled Pelt

Dapplenose

Dappletail

Dappletuft

Dark Shadow On Water

Dark Whiskers

Darkflower

Darkfoot

Darkstar (CotC)

Darkstar (MV)

Darkstar (SkC)

Darkstripe

Darktail

Dart

Dash

Dawn Mist

Dawn River

Dawnbright

Dawncloud

Dawnfeather

Dawnflower

Dawnpelt

Dawnstar

Dawnstripe

Deadfoot

Deerdapple

Deerfoot

Deerleap

Deerpaw (PC)

Dew

Dew Nose

Dew Petal

Dewkit (ShC)

Dewnose

Dewspots

Dewspring

Dewstar

Dewy Leaf

Diesel

Dodge

Doespring

Doestar

Domino

Dotty

Dove's Wing

Dovestar (RC)

Dovestar (WC)

Dovewing

Downkit

Dragonfly

Driftkit

Drizzle

Duckpaw

Dudley

Duke

Dusk Nose

Dusk Smoke

Duskfur

Duskkit

Duskpaw

Duskwater

Dust Muzzle

Dustpelt

Duststar

- E -

Eagle Feather

Eaglekit (WC)

Eaglestorm

Eaglewing

Ebonyclaw

Echomist

Echosnout

Echosong

Eeltail (CotC)

Eeltail (MV)

Egg

Eggs

Elderkit

Ember

Emberdawn (LH)

Emberdawn (TBC)

Emberfoot

Emberkit (CJ)

Emberkit (DotC)

Emberstar

- F -

Falcon Swoop

Fall

Fallen Leaves

Fallensnow

Falling Dusk

Falling Feather

Falling Rain

Fallowfern

Fallowkit

Fallowpaw

Fallowsong

Fallowstar

Fallowtail

Fang

Fawnstep

Feather (GC)

Feather Ear

Feather Of Flying Hawk

Featherkit

Featherpelt

Featherstar

Featherstorm

Feathertail

Featherwhisker

Featherwing

Fennelstar

Fern Leaf

Ferncloud

Fernleaf

Fernpelt

Fernshade

Fernsong

Fernstripe

Ferretclaw

Ferris

Fidgetflake

Fierce

Filou

Finch Song

Finchflight

Finchkit (WC)

Finchlight

Finchstar

Finleap

Fircone

Fireface

Firefern

Firefly

Firestar

Firkit

Fish Leap

Flailfoot

Flame

Flamenose

Flamepelt

Flametail

Flashnose

Flaxfoot

Fleck

Fleetfoot (Leopard)

Flick

Flickerkit

Flight Of Startled Heron

Flintfang

Flipclaw

Floatkit

Floss

Flower (KP)

Flower (Lo)

Flower (Ro)

Flower Foot

Flower Stream

Flowerpaw (TC)

Flowerstar

Flowerstem (AVoS)

Floyd

Flurry

Flutter

Flutterfoot

Fluttering Bird

Flystar

Flytail

Flywhisker

Fog

Foggy

Fognose

Fox (DotC)

Foxclaw

Foxheart

Foxleap

Foxnose

Foxwhisker

Foxy

Frecklewish (SkC)

Frecklewish (TC)

Fringewhisker

Frisk

Fritz (KP)

Fritz (Lo)

Frog (Ro)

Frogleap

Frogtail

Frondwhisker

Frost

Frostclaw

Frostfur

Frostpaw (RC)

Frosty

Furled Bracken

Fury (GV)

Fury (Boar)

Furze

Furzepelt

Fuzz

Fuzzball

Fuzzypelt

- G -

Galekit

Galestar

Goldenflower

Goldenstar (Lion)

Gooseberry

Goosefeather

Gorseclaw (RC)

Gorseclaw (TC)

Gorseclaw (WC)

Gorsefoot

Gorsepaw (WC)

Gorsestar

Gorsetail (PoT)

Gorsetail (TNP)

Grass

Grassheart

Grasskit (WC)

Grasspelt

Grasswhisker

Gravelnose

Gray Sky Before Dawn

Gray Wing (WC)

Graymist

Graypaw (RC)

Graypaw (TC)

Graypool

Graystripe

Graywing (RC)

Greeneyes

Greenflower

Gremlin

Growler

Grub

Gullswoop

- H -

Hailstar

Hal

Half Moon

Halftail

Hareflight (FQ)

Hareflight (TR)

Harelight

Harepounce

Harestar

Harley

Harrybrook

Harveymoon

Hatchkit

Hattie

Havenpelt

Hawk (RH)

Hawk (Sister)

Hawk Swoop

Hawkfoot

Hawkfrost

Hawkfur

Hawkheart

Hawksnow

Hawkstar

Hawkwing

Hayberry

Haze

Hazel Burrow

Hazelstar

Hazeltail

Hazelwing

Heatherstar

Heathertail

Heavystep

Henry

Heronwing (RC)

Heronwing (TC)

Hickorynose

Hillkit

Hollow

Hollow Tree

Hollowbelly

Hollowflight

Hollowspring

Holly

Hollyflower

Hollykit (TNP)

Hollyleaf

Hollypelt

Hollystar

Hollytuft

Honey Pelt

Honeyfern

Honeyfur

Honeyleaf

Honeytail

Hoot

Hootwhisker

Hop Scratch

Hopekit

Hopper

Hopwhisker

Houndleap

Houndstar

Hunt Growl

Hunt Leap

Hunter

Husker

Hussar

Hutch

- I -

Ice (Sister)

Icecloud

Icewhisker

Icewing

Icicle

Ivypool

Ivystar

Ivytail (RC)

Ivytail (ShC)

- J -

Jack

Jackdaw's Cry

Jacques

Jagged Lightning

Jagged Peak

Jagged Rock Where Heron Sits

Jaggedtooth

Jake (IH)

Jake (TPB)

Jasper

Jay

Jay Frost

Jay's Wing

Jayclaw

Jayfeather

Jessamy

Jessy

Jester

Jet

Jigsaw

Jingo

Jumper

Jumpfoot

Juniper Branch

Juniperclaw

Juniperkit

- K -

Kestrelflight

Kestrelwing

Kinkfur

Kinktail

Kite Wing

Kitescratch

- L -

Lakeheart

Lakeshine

Lakestorm

Lapping Wave

Larchkit (MV)

Larchkit (TNP)

Lark (CotP)

Lark That Sings At Dawn

Larksong (AVoS)

Larksong (BP)

Larksplash

Larkwing (BrS)

Larkwing (FQ)

Lavenderkit

Leaf (Lo)

Leaf (TC)

Leafkit (WC)

Leafpool

Leafshade

Leafshine

Leafstar

Leafstorm

Leaftail

Leap Growl

Leopardfoot

Leopardstar

Lichen

Lichenfur

Lightleap

Lightning

Lightning Stripe

Lightning Tail

Lightningpaw

Lightningpelt

Lily (FQ)

Lily (GV)

Lilyflower

Lilyfur

Lilystar

Lilyheart

Lilystem

Lilywhisker

Lion's Roar

Lionblaze

Lioneye

Lionheart

Lionstar

Little Mew

Littlebird

Littlecloud

Littlekit (YS)

Littlestep

Livy

Lizardfang

Lizardstripe

Lizardtail

Logfur

Loki

Longtail

Loudbelly

Lowbranch

Lulu

Luna

Lynxkit

- M -

Macgyver

Madric

Mae

Magda

Maggottail

Magpie

Mallowfur

Mallownose

Mallowtail

Mapleshade

Maplestar

Maplewhisker

Marigold (GV)

Marigold (TS)

Marigoldkit

Marlow

Marmalade

Marshcloud

Marshkit

Marshpaw

Marshscar

Max (KP)

Max (Ro)

Meadowpelt

Meadowslip

Melody

Melting Ice

Merry

Micah

Midge

Midgepelt

Milkfur (MV)

Milkfur (WC)

Milkfur (YS)

Milkweed

Millie

Minnowkit (CotC)

Minnowkit (CP)

Minnowtail

Mintfur (RC)

Mintfur (SkC)

Mintkit (ShC)

Mintpaw (CJ)

Minty (KP)

Minty (Ro)

Misha

Mist (CP)

Mist (RH)

Mist Where Sunlight Shimmers

Mistcloud

Mistfeather

Mistkit (TC)

Mistlekit (SkC)

Mistlekit (TC)

Mistmouse

Mistpaw

Mistpelt

Misty

Misty Water

Mistystar

Mittens

Mitzi (KP)

Mitzi (Lo)

Mole

Molepaw

Molepelt

Molewhisker (RC)

Molewhisker (TC)

Molly

Monkeystar

Moon (Sister)

Moon Shadow

Moon Shining On Water

Moonflower

Moonlight

Moonpaw (CS)

Morning Fire

Morning Star

Morning Whisker

Morningcloud

Morningflower

Morningkit

Morningmist

Morningstar

Moss (KP)

Moss Tail

Moss That Grows By River

Mossfire

Mossheart (ShC)

Mossheart (TC)

Mosskit (TC)

Mossleaf

Mosspaw (ShC)

Mosspelt

Mossyfoot

Moth (CotP)

Moth Flight

Mothpelt

Mothwhisker

Mothwing

Mottlepaw

Mouse (MFV)

Mouse Ear

Mousefang

Mousefur

Mousewhisker

Mousewing

Mouthclaw (Snake)

Mud

Mud Paws

Mudclaw (ShC)

Mudclaw (WC)

Muddyclaw

Mudfur

Mudpuddle

Mudthorn

Mumblefoot

Myler

Myrtlebloom

- N -

Nami

Nectarsong

Needleclaw

Needletail

Nettle (AVoS)

Nettle (DotC)

Nettlebreeze

Nettleclaw

Nettlepad

Nettlepaw (RC)

Nettlesplash

Nettlespot

Newtspeck

Night (Ro)

Night Of No Stars

Nightcloud

Nightfur

Nightheart

Nightkit (TC)

Nightmask

Nightsky (TBC)

Nightstar (RC)

Nightstar (ShC)

Nightwhisper

Nightwing

Nutmeg (OC)

Nutmeg (Ro)

Nutmeg (TPB)

Nutmeg (TR)

Nutwhisker

- O -

O'Hara

Oakfur

Oakheart

Oakleaf

Oakstar

Oakstep

Oatclaw

Oatpaw (RC)

Oatspeckle

Oatwhisker (TC)

Oatwhisker (WC)

Oddfoot

Olive

Olivenose

Oliver

One Eye (DotC)

One-eye (TPB)

Onestar

Onion

Oscar

Otterheart

Ottersplash

Owl

Owl Feather

Owl Song

Owlclaw

Owlfur

Owlnose

Owlstar

Owlwhisker

- P -

Pad

Pale Sky

Palebird

Palefoot

Palesky

Pancakes

Parsleyseed

Parsnip

Pasha

Patch (KP)

Patch (RF)

Patch Pelt

Patchfoot

Patchkit (MV)

Patchpelt

Peanut

Pearnose

Pebble Heart

Pebble That Rolls Down Mountain

Pebblefoot

Pebblefur

Pebbleshine

Peg

Pepper

Perchkit

Perchpaw (MV)

Perchwing

Percy

Petal (DotC)

Petal (Sister)

Petaldust

Petalfall

Petalfur

Petalkit (Lion)

Petalkit (TC)

Petalnose

Petunia

Pickle

Pigeonflight

Pigeonfoot

Pikepaw (BotC)

Pikepaw (MO)

Piketooth

Pine (TS)

Pine Needle

Pine That Clings To Rock

Pineclaw

Pinefur

Pinenose

Pinestar

Pink Eyes

Pip (Dog)

Piper

Pipsqueak

Pixie

Plumclaw

Plumstone

Plumwillow

Pod

Podlight

Polly

Poolcloud

Poppycloud

Poppydawn

Poppyfrost

Pounce (RP)

Pounce Whisper

Pouncestep

Pouncetail (RC)

Pouncetail (ShC)

Prickleface

Pricklekit (RC)

Pricklekit (WC)

Pricklenose

Primrosepaw

Princess

Prowl Sleek

Puddleshine

Pumpernickel

Pumpkin

Purdy

Purr Roll

[google-drawings-warriors]

Is cream and golden-brown close enough to white and ginger?

[goatpaste]

🍓

[rookflower]

[frostwing05]

#540 Dotty 

"Dreams are nonsense. What does it matter if Spire dreamed you were coming? It doesn't change anything."

Source: https://warriors.fandom.com/wiki/Dotty

[presleyhearted]

Yours Truly - Chapter 12: A Curious Case

・❥・pairing: Elvis x original female character

・❥・genre: slow burn, mystery, angst, fluff.

・❥・wc: 3774 words

・❥・summary: In which a 21-year-old girl suddenly finds herself having consecutive dreams of a particular rock ‘n’ roll star whom she has never met and who died 45 years ago.

・❥・ ratings & warnings: SFW. none.

chapter index | prev | chapter 13

・❥・a/n: hello all! I thank you for your patience in waiting for this chapter. I apologise for the long wait, well life happens and things get busy sometimes. Also, I will admit that this is one of the significant chapters - so I had intense perfectionist tendencies for this one. I really hope you enjoy this chapter! This will be crossposted on Wattpad as well.

if you like this, please do share and comment - it would mean the world to me. Also, if you want to give me a tip - the icon should be at the end of this chapter and on my profile bio. This is not necessary at all, so absolutely do not feel the need to. All my fics are always free. ✨

--------

"My soul chose yours. And a soul just doesn't forget that." - Ben Maxfield.

NOVA

The semicircular structure surrounded us, the transparency of the walls and roof effectively providing it to be easier for beams of afternoon sun to slip through the glass. The sun being an object of deception, as if I were to step outside the conservatory - I know that the almost-winter breeze will latch onto my skin. Various plants were situated on each corner of the room, as well as the usual decorative pieces that sat on top of wooden shelves. 

I sat on a sofa, opposite to the two-seater that Great Aunt Odette was sitting on. The sofas were comfortable, and stylishly woven from rattan to perfectly match the atmosphere of the room. A coffee table was situated between us, books and our empty cups of coffee rested on it. It was typical of Great Aunt Odette to spend time in the indoor conservatory, despite its functionality being best used for the summer seasons. But I shouldn’t feign surprise, as she never was rigid about such and such rules. 

I arrived an hour ago, and after the usual conversation of updating her about the normal elements in my life over dinner - I know that there is no delaying no further. With my action of suddenly calling her, and the two hours drive to her house - it is now the time to actually explain to her the purpose of my visit. There is no more sugar coating with Great Aunt Odette, and I simply wouldn’t get away with it at all - she will see right through me. 

Great Aunt Odette squinted her brown eyes at me, and I knew straight away that a question would land on me within the next few seconds. I just hope that my racing heart would slow down, in time to catch it. 

“Now, tell me Nova. . . “ She begins, “What is it you want to talk about? You said it was imperative to discuss in person.” 

Great Aunt Odette lived far out in the countryside. It was a total of a two hour drive to get to her home. It’s only been a few months since i’ve seen her, the last time being her birthday. Now, due to life and the stages of adulthood quickly approaching me - it has become harder to visit her. Although I do apologise for rarely getting to visit her, Great Aunt Odette is always quick to wave my apologies away as she says that there is a reason she chose to live in the middle of nowhere. She valued the peace and that the time in her life of constantly chasing life and being surrounded by people - she was finished with that. And so, she enjoys very little social interactions. But she is a very extroverted person. 

She is my favorite person in the entire world. If I don’t address her by ‘Great Aunt Odette’, I call her ‘Auntie Dottie’ - which according to her, is a nickname that I invented when I was a kid. Apparently, I was frustrated in being unable to correctly pronounce her name so settled with ‘Auntie Dottie.’ 

Great Aunt Odette patiently awaits my answer. The record player helps the silence, as the room is filled with the sound of soft, classical music.

If there is one person in my life that would listen to me, and understand this it would be Great Aunt Odette. No matter how ridiculous it may sound, I know in my heart she will listen to me. 

I push myself to regain my eye contact with her, as I take a deep breath. 

“I- . . . there really is no easy way to explain what has happened, and has been continuing to happen to me. I haven’t told my parents or any of my friends this. . . it’s a lot.” I said, trying to read the expression on her face. 

Her eyebrows arch as her eyes widen, “You are not in some kind of trouble, are you?” She whispers. 

I frantically shake my head, “Oh god, no. I promise you that’s not the case. “

Great Aunt Odette breathes a sigh of relief, with her hand placed on her chest. 

“Oh, thank goodness!”

“I found myself presuming so because it is very unlike you to not confide in your parents, nor your friends. “ She admits, freely sharing her trail of thoughts. 

“I promise you, Auntie Dottie. I’m not in trouble, nothing illegal, and I’m not hurt.” I clarify, in an attempt to cure her worries a little.

She pauses for a second as if trying to think through her words. 

“Have you been to the Doctor recently?” She says, her voice slow and with fear coursing her eyes. 

I shake my head knowing exactly where she is going with the question. 

“No, I haven’t. I’m perfectly healthy, I’m okay. “ 

“Then what is it?” She is at a loss for words, her forehead knotted as she looks at me in desperation for answers. 

I get up from my seat and move to sit next to her on the sofa. I lean my body sideways on the back of the sofa, as I cross my legs. 

My hands take hers as I take a deep breath, “I’ve been having dreams, Auntie Dottie.” I lower my voice, my heart releasing a shot of nervous energy as this is the first time I would ever tell someone this. 

The fear of something extreme leaves her face, but the confusion remains. Throughout the two hour drive, I tried to desperately practise how I would reveal this all to her. There is no other way to ease the confusion, there is no shortcut - it really is the case of telling her everything. There is no way to sugarcoat it or a slow build up to, because one way or another it will sound unreal. So, here I am now, I can only guarantee explaining it all as clearly as possible - no matter how insane it might sound.

“Dreams?”

I nod, “Yeah.”

“Are they bad dreams?” She tilts her head with a frown, as she sends me a logical question. Of course that is the first thing one would think. If someone was concerned about their dreams, the first thing someone would think is that they are dreaming unpleasant things. But for my case, it’s not that simple. Mine is good, but full of intricacy. 

“No, no. They are um. . .  quite the opposite actually.” 

Great Aunt Odette slowly nods, but I know that I have rendered her more confused than ever. 

“Okay. Then what is it, dear?”

I  find myself subconsciously biting my bottom lip, here goes nothing.

“Um. . . the dreams aren’t normal. At least I don’t think they are.” I respond, looking at her to check that she is still with me. Great Aunt Odette is attentive, her gaze transfixed as she nods at me in encouragement. 

“How so?”

“Well. . .  for starters I just don't think it’s normal to be waking up each morning and remembering every detail of the dream I’ve just had. I remember each word that I have said, how I felt, and my surroundings.” I have let go of Great Aunt Odette’s hands now, as I can’t help, but talk with my hands as I explain. 

I stop myself from adding in the fact that he also appears in my dreams. I need to tell her the information little by little, saying that ‘oh btw Auntie Dottie, Elvis Presley is in my dreams every night.’ There is no way I can say it like that, I need to build it up first. 

She pauses for a moment before she speaks, “Have you ever heard of the term lucid dreaming, Nova?”

I nod, “Yes. Yes I have. But Aunt Dottie it can’t be that.”

Her eyebrows furrow, “Why not?”

“I don’t go to sleep with the intention of controlling what happens in my dreams. They just happen.” 

Great Aunt Odette hums in agreement to my reasoning. 

“But when you are dreaming are you aware that you are?” She asks.

“Yes.” 

“How long has this been happening? Such things can happen to us every now and again I suppose. “ 

I bite my bottom lip, “Almost two weeks now.” 

Her eyes widened at my response, “Weeks?” She repeats, her tone full of shock. 

I nod.

“How frequently have they been occurring within that time frame?” She questions, and I can practically visualise the wheels turning in her brain as she adds each piece to the puzzle. 

“Every night.” 

“Good heavens,” Great Aunt Odette mutters, “I have never heard anything like it.” 

I sighed as I found myself absentmindedly drawing circles on the cushion that sat on my lap. 

“I-I know. Believe me, Auntie Dottie. I have googled it and all results don’t even remotely hint that this is normal. “

“These dreams. . . “ She speaks slowly and carefully, “Do you remember each one?” 

“Yeah. I can tell you right now about every detail, and It’s not like I need to write it down at all to remember. It’s…” I run my fingers through my hair, trying to find the right words, “It’s well. . . I don’t know. . . almost like recalling a memory.” 

Everyone may remember their dreams every once a while, and remember certain details. But for me to describe my dreams to the level of like a memory? It’s not a mundane experience at all. And I can confirm that the degree of it is strange because Great Aunt Odette is speechless. The words I let go have rendered her without any words to say. 

She rests her chin on her hand, gazing thoughtfully at me. 

“Give me an example. “

“Well. . . I had a dream of going on a hot air balloon ride and there was one where I went to a wedding reception uninvited. On my 21st, I made myself a promise that I would be open to new experiences, to step outside my comfort zone more. Those dreams started happening after that.” All that I have said is true, and sounds pretty normal so far. But I haven’t even begun to talk about him. I’m still unsure of how Great Aunt Odette might react.

She hums with a smile spreading on her lips, “Perhaps Nova,  it may be your subconscious mind telling you that you are heading in the right direction. I know you and I know that this is a brave step for you.” She held onto my hands, and gave them a reassuring squeeze. 

I nod, “Maybe. But there is another thing, Auntie Dottie.”

Here I go. This conversation was already strange to begin with, but now with the addition of telling her about him - that’s a completely new level of weird territory. But I silently remind myself that this is Great Aunt Odette. If there is anyone I trust more in the entire world, who I could tell - it has to be her. 

She tilts her head, eyes filled with curiosity as she awaits me to continue. 

I take a deep breath, “I, um . . . someone appears in my dreams.” 

“Who? Someone you know?”

I shake my head, “No. Not personally, at least.” 

Great Aunt Odette raises an eyebrow at my words. 

“No?”

“It’s a famous person.” 

She chuckles, “Oh, don’t worry dear.” She waves her hand, as if to emphasise the point of such a thing not being something to be concerned about. 

“Nova,” She continues, “It’s perfectly normal for a celebrity crush to appear in your dreams. “

I sigh, “I know that. But he isn’t a celebrity crush. I was aware of him, but not to the extent of calling myself a fan. “ 

Great Aunt Odette pauses at my words, and I see her eyes find themselves lost in a maze once again. A moment ago, it seemed like she was content that she found the root of all of this. It seemed that she found that the answer was simply that the appearance of a celebrity crush isn’t abnormal. Almost false hope, as she is back to square one. My Great Aunt is quite expressive, with how people often say that if the competition is to hide your true feelings about something - she would certainly not win. Her face tells it all, and right now - she is almost bewildered and frustrated. 

I decide to continue, in hopes to offer her another piece to the puzzle. 

“I understand that when someone appears in your dreams, we assume that they are there to deliver a message. But I believe that’s only  to people we are close to, people that we know very deeply. “ I find myself fiddling with my fingers again, as I set my eyes on the record player in the corner of the room.

My voice is quieter now as I say, “Not a famous singer who has been gone for decades, “ I ran my hand through my hair, “It’s not- it’s not making sense to me at all.” 

“Gone. . . no longer alive, dear?” She asks carefully, as my gaze floats back to her line of sight. Her eyes are as wide as ever, wheels certainly turning in her head. 

I nod.

“I know that sounds crazy, Auntie Dottie. Believe me, I am not making this up. No matter how ridiculous it may sound, like a plot from a storybook or something - I am telling the truth.” I explain, my words rushing out of me faster and stronger  than the wind blowing against the windows from outside. There’s that striking fear at the pit of my stomach because this is the first time that I have verbally explained my situation to anyone. 

“Who is it, Nova?”

There. The one question that will definitely seal my insanity. If the entire conversation was not abnormal enough, this final question will definitely be the cherry on top. On the drive here, I have decided to tell her everything. But I stood uncertain on whether I should tell her that it’s him. 

In the brief moment that silence passed us, Great Aunt Odette definitely saw a flicker of hesitation in me. A smile splits into her cheeks, “On second thought, keep him as a secret. “ She winks. 

I feel a weight lift off my shoulders, as I sigh in relief. 

“Sorry, it’s just-”

Great Aunt Odette stops me mid-sentence. “I believe you. I can’t say that I have heard of anything like this before, because I certainly have not. However, you are the most intelligent, logical and rational human that I know. “ She says, holding my hands tightly, “For you to tell me this - something which is miles from your beliefs - it has to be the truth. It has to be.” 

I found myself smiling, the clouds of doubt fading away. 

“Thank you, Auntie Dottie. I-I was going mad, I just kept this all to myself. Look, I can even show you my recent search history. “ I pull my phone out, in which she laughs.

“Now, I presume that you were visiting me to talk to me about this. But not necessarily expecting an answer?” She asks, and I instantly recognise the tone of her voice. It’s the tone of voice she often uses when she has a surprise that I am unaware of. 

“Yeah. . . what are you thinking?” I reply, chuckling. 

“Hm, you know me too well Nova.” She laughs as she stands up, “Come with me, there is something I want you to see.”

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Great Aunt Odette leads me to my favorite place of her house. She throws me a smile over her shoulder, as we go inside. The room was the second most spacious room in her house, I would think. Towering shelves embedded into the walls, in a circular shape as hundreds and hundreds of pieces of literature rested upon them. A cathedral-like window took the centre of it all, but with absence of natural lighting. Instead, the place relied on the dim lightning which was suitable for the atmosphere of the room. Extensive ornate woodwork in the form of two rectangular tables in the middle. In the far right, a nicely lit fireplace was present, surrounded by dark wood mouldings. 

Overall, Great Aunt Odette’s home library is paradise. 

The soft, red carpet adorned the flooring as I followed her lead. She stops at a bookshelf on the left, with a ladder resting on it. 

“Gosh, this has always been my favorite spot.” I say, as my fingers trace the books on the shelves. 

Auntie Dottie displays a bright smile at me, “You are very right.”

I stop my actions and turn to face her, “What was it you wanted to show me?”

“You’ve always had such an appetite for reading. Always hungry for knowledge, and you have spent countless times here - your eyes engrossed in a book. You would be reading Greek mythology, history, ancient egypt. . .  I thought for a second if I should hire you as a librarian.” Auntie Dottie laughs.

“That can be arranged, right?” I play along, laughing. 

“Most certainly.”

“But there is a part of you that I think you have forgotten about, Nova.” She says, voice now serious as ever. 

My eyebrows furrow, “Hmm?”

“I know that you like facts. Facts provide comfort, it makes us feel certainty in our choices. But the discovery of those facts was born from people’s curiosity.” She gestures to the world map that is hung on one of the dark-colored walls, “Don’t you think?”

“Yeah, I guess. I mean. . . scholars and scientists had to do so much research to publish valid information for the public. It was all trial and error.” I shrugged, still unsure on where the conversation is leading to. 

“Precisely.” She muses, “Although you are no longer a child, there is one element you must carry throughout all stages of your life. The one aspect that will keep your life balanced - curiosity. “

I chuckle, “Great Aunt Odette, if that is what you are getting at then you shouldn’t worry. I’m still a very curious person. Like you said, I like to plan and assess before jumping into something.” 

She shakes her head and chuckles, “Oh, Nova.” She mutters. 

“I promise I am.” 

“I’m not doubting you, dear. “ She assures with a smile, “I am only saying that you are lacking a different sense of direction. The most curious people are the ones that don’t fret over details about something - they just jump.” 

I remain silent and wait for her to continue speaking. 

“When you were a child you loved reading storybooks. Yes, girls like to read fairy tales about princesses. “ She shakes her head, almost deep in thought before her eyes shift back to me. 

“Nova, do you remember your favorite book when you were a child?” Great Aunt Odette asks, almost in a quizzing manner. Her eyes squint, as she awaits my response. 

I’m at a loss for words. It is true that I used to read many storybooks when I was a kid, as a kid normally does. But the subject of my favorite book - my mind is actually blank at the question. 

“I. .  .  I actually can’t remember.” I say, my voice sounding quieter. 

A knowing grin shines on Great Aunt Odette’s face, as she slides the ladder to one of the shelves. It is a good thing that the ladder is one of those that have wheels at the end, so it prevents her from having to carry it from shelf to shelf. 

She starts to climb the ladder and I immediately reach my arms out in alert, “Auntie Dottie, I don’t think you should climb that.”

“Don’t worry, dear. I’m not going too far.” She replies, her back now facing me as her hand reach out and flips through the books on the shelf. She mutters to herself before an excited, “A-ha!” leaves her mouth. 

To my relief, she safely makes her way down the ladder and stands right in front of me. A dark blue hardbound book is in her hands, but the front cover is faced down. 

“Wherever you went as a child, you had this with you. Other kids would have a stuffed toy with them as a source of comfort. But you had this story, this book with you. It was only when you turned eight years old that it was put down. I know your parents don’t favour thoughts of adventure, of spontaneity, of the unknown. “ Auntie Dottie sighed heavily, “And I know that they only have your best interest at heart. But you're an adult now, Nova and you are young. You get to choose how to let that place of curiosity grow within you. “ 

Great Aunt Odette is my favorite human being on earth, but unfortunately she is not my parents’ favorite. They describe her as being too risky, too uncertain and ‘wild.’ Although she was the one who babysat me during numerous times of my childhood, those ended quite abruptly when I was around the age of eight years old. I remember asking my mom why Great Aunt Odette can’t babysit me anymore, and they simply said because I was “growing up.” and how Great Aunt Odette’s “foolish ideas” aren’t ideal for me. Great Aunt Odette was and is the polar opposite of my parents. Her perspective in life is, to say simply ‘live your life to the fullest’, and I suppose my parents won in that respect. I became exactly how they wanted me to be; safe, always within the lines, and never taking a risk. I do love my parents, I really do. But it is in this aspect that I start to wonder if I have gone too overboard, too safe. 

“You said that you wanted to show me something, after I told you about my dreams. Is this. . . ?” I trail off.

She smiles knowingly and nods, “Go on, turn the book over.” 

I follow her instructions and immediately gasped at the cover. The title is in cursive, with intricate illustrations on the outer aspects of the cover. 

It read: Peter Pan and Wendy by J.M Barrie 

“Oh my god, “ I shake my head, “How can I forget about this?”

Then I remember why Auntie Dottie is showing this to me, “Do you. . . is this why. . . “ 

She nodded, “There may be no scientific explanation for your dreams, Nova. But there doesn’t have to be. The universe has a way of guiding us, of pulling us towards something as a final push to where we are supposed to be. To better ourselves. “ Her eyes flicker briefly to the book, “That sometimes you need to be reminded of the beginning, in order to make some sense of the now.” 

chapter 13

[warriorswarriors]

Dotty

[blazesblaze]

Dotty & Fierce