#i'm glad i discovered how much i like it after years of avoiding it

[miodiodavinci]

everyone say thank you to pineapple

[capuccinodoll]

Honey love, dark eyes

♡ Chapter two ♡

Summary: You see Joel for the first time after the night of his birthday, and things couldn't be more different from how you thought they were. Word count: 6.8k A/N: Thank you so much for all your beautiful comments!!! I'm so glad you liked the first chapter. I honestly can't wait to keep discovering the path of this story together with you <3 thank you thank you thank youuu. FIRST CHAPTER: ♡ here ♡

Saturday. You woke up with an ache stretching through your chest, as if all the warmth you’d fallen asleep in had cooled to an empty space beside you. Joel was gone. The clock flashed 9:00 a.m., and you imagined him awake hours earlier, deciding he needed to leave. You wondered what might’ve filled his head as he slipped out—regret, embarrassment, maybe something close to the uncomfortable doubt now tightening in your stomach.

It was painful, how your mind filled in the blanks: if he’d stayed, if he’d wrapped his arms around you before you woke up, maybe it would mean something. Some quiet acknowledgment of what had happened, that you were now something different, and that it could be okay. But he’d left, and his absence felt like an answer. His own kind of message. You didn’t know exactly how to feel, only that your heart was broken, frayed by thoughts that raced faster than you could catch.

After lying there, staring blankly at the wall for what might’ve been hours, you managed to sit up, body aching and sore from each place his hands had traveled. You stepped into the shower, closing your eyes as the hot water hit your shoulders, the places where his fingertips had traced your skin. You felt sadder than you wanted to admit as the water washed away his touch, erased his kisses—but somehow, you also needed this; needed to cleanse away the confusion he’d left behind. The way your heart twisted told you everything: that after years of loving him quietly, of wondering if you were foolish for feeling this way, you’d finally seen it in his eyes. It was undeniable, the way he looked at you. Dark, intent, and carrying something that had always been just out of reach. But there was something else there, something heavy that you still didn’t understand, as if he were as conflicted as you.

For the rest of the day, you collapsed onto the couch, letting the TV drone on without paying attention to any of it. You didn’t see Joel or Sarah, didn’t even think about glancing out the window, afraid he might be there.

*

Sunday. You woke up early and walked the neighborhood, hoping you wouldn’t cross paths with him. You had no idea what to say, and you weren’t ready to hear anything he might want to say to you. Joel wasn’t sentimental, and you knew this situation would be far from easy for him, as well. When you returned, you rounded the block and entered through the back door to avoid even the sight of his house. You spent the rest of the day tearing through closets, dusting shelves, filling bags with clothes and objects to donate. Anything to keep busy, to drown out the echo of his absence. When you reached the hall, you noticed a picture hanging askew—a memory of your best friend pushing you playfully against the wall. You straightened it, feeling the weight of that simpler time.

*

Monday. Work, mercifully, absorbed you the whole morning. Manuscripts stacked on your desk piled up, five drafts to review before the week’s end. At lunch, you let yourself get caught up in the interns’ gossip, grateful for the distraction of someone else’s drama: an assistant had apparently thrown a scene in the kitchen. For those few minutes, you were somewhere else entirely.

When you got home, exhaustion caught up to you in a wave, and you napped for hours, hoping to sleep off the ache. You buried yourself in work for the rest of the evening until finally crawling into bed. Even though the hours of sleep should’ve soothed you, the headache stayed, an insistent reminder that you couldn’t keep avoiding the thoughts that waited just beneath the surface.

*

Tuesday. Work was just a blur of the usual. A steady hum, a low buzz of screens and staplers and muffled voices. Then your boss leaned out of her office door, gave you a quick look, and said you could take off two hours early if you wanted. No explanation. You gave her a polite nod of thanks and were out of there before she could change her mind.

When you got home, you stood in the shower for an eternity, letting the water pour over you, but your mind kept circling back to Joel. The ache of it pressed on you, and you felt almost embarrassed by how deeply it stung. Why did it always come back to this?

Out of the shower, you wrapped your hair in a towel, looked up at your own face in the mirror. The eyes staring back seemed hollow, that same expression you’d worn on Saturday—worn thin and tired, as if all the energy you’d stored up was suddenly gone.

You knew you had to do something. Sitting around was unbearable. A surge of restlessness spurred you forward. You changed into workout clothes, slid your headphones on, set a playlist going. The music buzzed in your ears as you left, footsteps echoing on the stairs, mind already reaching for the rush that would come when you pushed yourself hard, sprinting until everything in you felt like liquid fire.

You’d barely opened the front door when you stopped short. Sarah was there, one hand raised to knock, her backpack slung over her shoulder, her hair falling in loose, carefree waves. She looked up, surprised, but her face split into a grin, and at the sight of her, something warm unfurled in your chest.

“Can I stay for a while? Dad’s working late again,” she said, and you felt the familiar twinge at the mention of him— Dad.

“Of course.” You stepped back, pulling the door open wide, stretching your arms out for a hug, which she slipped into immediately, her hands resting lightly on your back.

“Were you going somewhere?” she asked, tossing her backpack to the floor and heading straight for the couch. She plopped down, her hair bouncing as she did, and looked at you with that expectant smile, as if she’d just brought a bit of sunlight into the room with her.

“Just a run.” You wave it off, but there’s something in your voice—she tilts her head, gives you a curious look. “I was bored, that’s all,” you add, softer.

"Ah,” Sarah murmured, letting the sound stretch and float between you. "It’s a nice day, a perfect day for a run.”

“It is," you agreed, the words soft, casual, "but it’s even nicer now that you’re here.” You couldn’t help smiling as you lowered yourself onto the couch beside her, picking up the remote and flipping on the TV. You laughed under your breath when My Best Friend’s Wedding appeared on the screen, as if fate itself were nudging you, teasing you with its sense of irony.

Sarah didn’t miss a beat, slipping her arms around your waist and nestling her head against your right arm, curling into you in the way she always did. The warmth of her comfort settled over you.

“What happened between you and Dad?” Her voice was quiet, the kind of softness that demands honesty. You looked down, meeting her open gaze, and your heart clenched—how could you explain something you hadn’t yet pieced together yourself?

“Nothing,” you murmured, trying to keep your tone light. “Why do you ask?”

She shrugged but kept her head resting on you, her voice low, musing. “I don’t know… I haven’t seen you since his birthday.” She toyed with the hem of her sleeve, eyes downcast, like she was searching her memory. “And last night, when we ordered pizza, I told him I wanted to see you. He said no, that you were probably tired, but I told him you always come, even when you’re tired.” She glanced up at you, lips curling with a faint, sad smile. “Then he just told me to drop it, and I could tell he was in one of his moods. You know him.”

Each word pierced you, gentle pinpricks you could feel sinking in. Joel was shutting you out too, it seemed, yet you were beginning to accept that as inevitable.

“I really was tired,” you lied, hating the sound of it even as it left your lips. “Yesterday was long. You know how much I read every day?” She nodded, that same wide-eyed curiosity looking up at you. “Well, yesterday was one of those days I could hardly see straight. When I got home, all I wanted to do was sleep.”

“Oh, right,” she replied, and you felt her cheeks lift against your arm, her smile warm and trusting. “Well, I was just gonna ask you to help with my homework. Have you ever read Poe?”

A chuckle escaped, breaking the tension. “Yes, I’ve read Poe.”

She pulled back a little, her eyes gleaming. “Are you tired now?”

“No.” You shifted up straighter, meeting her gaze with a small nod. “Come on, let’s get comfortable at the table.”

Soon, you were placing a steaming cup of cocoa and a plate of cookies in front of her, the familiar ritual setting in, grounding you both. You sat beside her, ready to dive into the morbid worlds of *The Black Cat* and *The Tell-Tale Heart,* classic Poe to whet a young mind. She didn’t need your help—you knew that. Sarah was bright, quick; it was more the routine of sitting together in the kitchen, tracing the dark, winding paths of literature, that you both cherished. Sometimes she’d even ask for math help, which was the last thing you were qualified for. Literary theory? Of course; Atiyah's geometry? Forget it. 

At seven, the kitchen was dim, the soft click of the clock marking the evening. There was still no sign of Joel. You watched from the living room window, your breath creating small fogged circles on the cold glass. Sarah had drifted to sleep, limbs splayed out on the couch, her bare feet poking over the edge. After homework, she’d switched to a documentary about whales and somewhere along the way, gentle little snores had taken over. You, meanwhile, were skimming through an article on your phone about a woman from Nigeria with the world’s largest wig, lost in a rabbit hole of Guinness World Records—another one of your distractions to keep from thinking about the ache lodged firmly where thoughts of Joel tended to linger.

Then, you heard it: the low rumble of Joel’s truck. You didn’t need to see him to know. You could recognize it anywhere, the steady approach, the engine growling over the pavement. For a moment, you stayed frozen, staring blankly at the phone in your hands, the words blurring together. You were just waiting—knowing that any moment, he’d come knocking at your door. Because that’s exactly what he would do.

Joel would enter his house with that familiar, end-of-the-day exhaustion weighing down his steps. His shoulders would drop, his gaze fixed on the floor. “Sarah!” he would call out, but the house would echo back only silence. A quiet that felt too deep, too empty. He’d stand in the middle of the hallway, pausing, absorbing the emptiness for a beat, then walk to her room and crack open the door just enough to check her bed. The unmade sheets and abandoned books would confirm what he already suspected: she was at your place, just as she always was when he was running late.

With a soft sigh, he would turn and head downstairs, the familiar creaks of the house echoing around him. And as he moves toward your door, he’d feel the tension in his back, muscles tight and weary from the day. He’d roll his head in a way that sent a dull ring through his neck, feeling the tendons pull, listening to the slight pop of his vertebrae—an old habit that usually helped him settle. But tonight, it did little to ease the tension running through him. Then, as he gets closer, he- 

Knock, knock—two sharp sounds that broke through the quiet of the evening. You looked up from your phone, startled from your reverie, the light of the screen dimming in your periphery. Sarah was curled up beside you, blissfully unaware, her breathing steady and peaceful.

“Sarah,” you whispered, reaching out gently, fingers brushing her shoulder. You called her name softly a couple of times, but she merely rolled over, a sleepy mumble escaping her lips—a mix of protest and the remnants of dreams still clinging to her.

Knock, knock. Again, insistent, echoing through the room.

This time, you stood up, feeling an unsteady flutter in your stomach as you made your way to the door. You inhaled sharply, letting a sigh escape, your body tensing involuntarily with each step. There it was again—that heaviness, low and unsettling, growing with every inch you closed toward him.

As your hand wrapped around the cool metal of the doorknob, you found yourself hesitating, fingers pressed into it but unmoving, as if the door itself had grown an invisible weight.

Be. Fucking. Strong. You took a slow breath, steadied your grip, a final reminder for yourself. Maybe, just maybe, Joel was feeling the same tightness, the same knot of uncertainty in his chest. You let yourself imagine that possibility, just long enough to give you the courage to turn the knob and let him in.

In one swift, impulsive movement, you flung the door open, and there he was. Joel. Standing there as if time itself had stilled, his gaze locked onto yours. It was the first time you'd seen him since that night. Your heart lurched at the sight of him, the familiar lines of his face, the small furrow between his brows, and maybe—just maybe—a slight tremor at one eyebrow as if he was bracing himself, too.

“Sarah’s here,” you said, quickly, your voice sharper than you’d intended, as though saying it fast enough might keep him from asking first. 

“I assumed so,” he replied, glancing briefly into your house, his tone measured, careful. “Is she asleep?”

You nodded, stepping back just enough to signal he could come in. He hesitated for a beat, then crossed the threshold. As he passed, his arm brushed yours, a fleeting contact that sent a surge through you—a reminder of all the words you hadn’t said, couldn’t say. It made your heart race, each beat loud in your ears as he moved further into the room.

You watched him approach Sarah, his frame bending down as he placed a hand on her shoulder, voice a low murmur. “Sarah, baby, let’s go home,” he whispered, as if his quiet words might coax her awake. But she only turned her shoulder, a soft groan escaping her, and nestled back into sleep. 

He sighed, a sound that spoke of familiarity and resignation. It was a scene he had lived through a hundred times before. Knowing it was useless to waste words trying to wake her, he slipped his arms beneath her and lifted her in one smooth motion. She stirred only slightly as he held her, and you saw the small grimace on his face as he straightened up, her weight adding to his already tired frame. 

You stayed in the doorway of the living room, arms crossed, a faint shield against whatever unspoken things might spill out of him. The sight of him in your space stirred a confusion of emotions—anger, frustration, an ache edged with sadness. Joel had been pulling away, barely looking you in the eye; Joel was acting as if you were strangers or as if nothing had ever happened between you. Joel was a—

“Thanks for watching her,” he said, his voice low as he walked past you, his eyes averted, as though speaking to the floor. He held Sarah protectively, her feet swinging softly past you, careful not to let her brush against you.

Something about his words made your stomach twist. He was speaking to you like you’d done something extraordinary, some rare act of kindness, as if this wasn’t something you did all the time. It was ridiculous. Sarah spent half her days here, half her nights, and he was thanking you now, like you were a kind neighbor who’d offered to babysit for the first time or some shit like that.

You didn’t respond, feeling the words trapped in your throat, unwilling to form. Instead, you walked him to the door, waiting as he stepped over the threshold. Your hand found the doorknob, ready to close it as soon as he left.

But he stopped. He turned back, and for a moment, his eyes met yours with a rare intensity. His expression shifted—there was something else there, something that looked like it was on the verge of spilling over. You waited, holding his gaze, a silent impatience building in you, daring him to say whatever was lodged inside him.

“Good night,” he said at last, flat and simple, letting the words fall like stones between you.

Before he could wait for a response, you slammed the door shut, perhaps with a bit too much force. But you didn’t care. You didn’t care at all. He could stand there in the hallway, speechless, for all you cared. The way he had looked at you, his voice so flat and distant—like you were nothing more than neighbors exchanging small talk—made your chest feel hollow. As if you hadn't spent the last four years glued to each other, inseparable, as if he hadn’t been completely entangled with you, entirely and recently. Joel could go fuck himself.

With your heart still aching, you walked to your bedroom and changed into pajamas, too upset to think about eating. You crawled under the covers, letting the silence settle around you, picking up the remote and flicking through channels until you found a rerun of one of those bizarre home and health shows. On the screen, a woman was recounting a story that seemed almost surreal: she had given birth to a baby alone in her bathroom after a shower, completely unaware she’d been pregnant. No anesthesia, no doctor, just a child falling into her hands, catching her by surprise.

Unbelievable, you thought, entranced, the human body is astounding. 

By the time the second episode started, your mind had drifted away from Joel, and all you could feel was hunger, sharp and insistent. The grumble in your stomach left you with no choice but to get out of bed. You tossed back the sheets and slipped your feet into the pom-pom slippers Joel had given you last Christmas. Fucking Joel, you thought, but they were soft, comfortable, and warm, and they carried you to the kitchen with a small feeling of comfort despite everything.

You made yourself a ham and cheese sandwich, humming a song you’d been listening to earlier that evening, right before Sarah knocked on your door. You poured yourself a glass of water, sat in the gentle glow of the under-cabinet lights, and took a bite. As you ate, your thoughts drifted back to the woman giving birth alone, imagining her shock and fear. If something like that ever happened to you, you thought, you’d probably be completely terrified, unprepared.

Then again, maybe you’d surprise yourself, discovering strength you didn’t know you had.

You shook your head slightly, reassuring yourself that it could never happen. You were meticulous with birth control; it was nearly impossible. After all, it had been a lonely year, with plenty of solitude and very little excitement. Not that you lacked options, but you’d grown comfortable in your independence.

Oh. Joel. You had slept with Joel, hadn’t you? And you hadn’t used a condom, a fact you had almost managed to ignore, until now. The thought gnawed at you.

As you finished your sandwich, you reminded yourself to check that your alarm was set for noon tomorrow—right when you took your birth control every day.

What would it be like, really, to have a baby? You’d never held one close or even spent much time with one, always keeping them at arm’s length, like something fragile you didn’t understand. Growing up an only child, you’d had no younger siblings to fuss over, no little cousins to chase around. None of your friends had children, either—not ones young enough for you to witness the first days, the delicate first few years. Sarah was already eight when you met her, and while you’d watched her grow up since, it wasn’t the same as seeing a baby. A newborn. Someone who came into the world with no words, just endless, vulnerable need.

Knock, knock. The sound jarred you, your heart jumping as you nearly choked on your last bite of sandwich. You looked up, squinting at the clock on the wall. Eleven p.m. 

Who could it be at this hour? His name appeared on your mind.

You reached for a paper napkin and wiped your mouth, slowly pushing back from the kitchen counter, your feet moving reluctantly toward the door. Your pulse quickened with each step, and a voice inside you whispered to run upstairs, to pretend you hadn’t heard. But the lights were on. He’d know you were awake; surely, he would.

Peering through the peephole, you felt that sudden jolt all over again. Joel was there. Standing in the yellowish glow of the hallway lights, looking down at the floor with one hand absently scratching his chin. For a moment, you watched him like that, as if observing from far away, taking in the unguarded heaviness of his expression. It softened something in you, even as your mind told you to hold your ground. 

Finally, you turned the lock and opened the door, just a sliver at first, easing it open slowly until you were half visible. His gaze lifted the moment he saw you, his body straightening, hands falling to his sides. There was something unmistakably nervous in his stance, a sense that he’d already doubted coming here but had decided it was too late to turn back.

He said your name in a whisper, as if startled to see you standing right there in your own doorway, his voice almost swallowed by the silence around you both. Then he took a step forward, his hand lifting slightly as if he’d reach out. 

You stayed frozen in place, your heart loud in your ears.

“Were you in bed?” he asked, almost sheepishly, the corners of his mouth pulling up slightly as if he wasn’t sure he should be there.

“No, I…” You hesitated, glancing briefly over his shoulder like you were expecting someone to jump out and catch you doing something wrong. “I was just eating something.”

Joel nodded, his eyes darting over your shoulder, taking in the familiar space inside your home, then flicking back to you, then to the doorway again. You could tell he wanted to come in, but he looked uncertain, almost nervous.

“Did something happen?” you asked, your voice coming out a little louder than intended.

“No, no,” he replied quickly. “Sarah just… she forgot her backpack, that’s all.” That’s all. The words sounded small.

You nodded, feeling a slight warmth creep into your cheeks, a forced smile stretching across your lips.

“I’ll grab it for you,” you said, hoping you sounded polite and unaffected. You closed the door nearly all the way, leaving only a thin sliver between you and the hallway, and hurried to where Sarah’s backpack and shoes sat beside the couch.

You grabbed her things hastily, inhaling sharply as you bent down, determined to hand them over and end this interaction on a courteous note, the way he’d left things with you earlier that evening.

“Jesus, Joel,” you muttered as you stood back up, a hand pressed to your chest. He’d somehow slipped inside and was standing right in front of you, eyes steady but unreadable, mouth set in a straight line. “You scared me to death.”

He glanced around your living room, slowly, buying time. He looked back at you, but this time his eyes were softer, a hint of something deeper lingering there.

“Can we talk?” he asked, and your heart leapt, relief breaking through your careful composure. 

You placed Sarah’s things back on the floor, feeling the weight of this moment settle over you, and then sank onto the couch. You didn’t say anything, but you glanced toward the seat beside you, silently inviting him to join you. Joel sat heavily, elbows on his knees, staring down as though the floor itself held the answers to questions he couldn’t voice. His silence felt endless, stretching out between you until you finally broke it.

“What do you want to talk about?” you asked, your voice almost too casual, as if you weren’t bracing yourself for the answer.

What was there even to talk about? The weather?

He exhaled, his voice almost too low to hear.

“About what happened. I… I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.” He straightened his back but still didn’t meet your eyes. 

“Sorry about what?” you asked, your own voice coming out softer than you’d intended, colored by a hurt you couldn’t hide. “For sleeping with me, or for disappearing in the morning?”

The flash of hurt in your tone seemed to hit him hard, his head dropping even lower. He turned toward you, his gaze sweeping across your face, as though trying to memorize the hurt he’d caused.

“Everything,” he said at last, voice thick with regret. “For messing it all up, for not coming to talk to you sooner.” He looked away again, his hand resting on the back of his neck, and his eyes drifting down, unable to hold yours. 

Your body felt tight with nerves, and you nodded, though it was barely a nod at all.

“Why did you leave?” you asked, almost a whisper.

He looked like he was searching for the right words, for something that would undo the damage, something that wouldn’t hurt you more.

“I panicked. I woke up and saw you next to me, and it all rushed back—everything. I couldn’t handle it, and Sarah was going to wake up soon, and I just… I just left.” 

“You could have at least told me,” you murmured, your voice strained. “Do you have any idea how that felt?”

He turned fully to face you, his eyes dark and full of something you loved, but now it looked almost foreign.

“I know. I hate myself for making you feel that way. I can’t forgive myself for that.” He shook his head slowly, as though to emphasize the depth of his regret. “I messed up. I messed everything up.”

“Then be clearer, Joel.” Your voice cracked on his name, and you hated how fragile it sounded. 

He ran a hand over his chin, staring at you with an expression that was unreadable but intense, his fingers pressing into the stubble on his jaw. He exhaled, licking his lips, and it was as if the words were something he’d been rehearsing, something he’d said to himself over and over but couldn’t say until now.

“I lied to you. And then I acted like an asshole when you found out,” he said, the words halting and heavy. “I’m sorry. I felt cornered when you found out about Sienna, and i reacted defensively.” The name slipped out reluctantly, and you felt a sharp pang at the sound of it. “I felt weird, and I shouldn’t have reacted like that. I know this is my fault—all of it is. If I’d just left when you asked me to... God, you asked me so many times. If I had left, none of this would have happened.” He shook his head, almost in disbelief at himself. “But I didn’t. And I ruined it.”

Sienna. The name hung in the air, thickening the silence between you. It sat heavy in your chest, like a stone. You tried to picture her, tried to put a face to the name, but the image wouldn’t come; your mind was racing too fast.

A warmth crept down your spine as Joel’s words landed, heavy, final. You sat with the silence for a moment, like you were stealing a few extra seconds from time to filter through what he’d just said, to let the meaning sift in slowly. He regretted it—this, everything. That was why he’d left in the morning, why he’d ignored you for days, why he couldn’t hold your gaze now. His eyes stayed down, fixed on the floor, while yours were betraying you, welling up without permission.

“You ruined it,” you whispered, echoing his words more to yourself than to him, taking them in and feeling their weight. But Joel must’ve thought you meant it, that you agreed with his confession. He winced slightly, like he’d been stung. “You regret it. Now what?”

He swallowed, his eyes still cast down.

“Now, now I don’t know,” he muttered. It sounded like a confession, like the last thing he wanted to admit. “But we have to fix it somehow.”

Fix it. Joel had always fixed things; it was almost second nature to him. Floors, windows, cabinets, the bench in your backyard that he’d broken one night when he stood on it, laughing, doing something you couldn’t even remember now. Joel fixed anything broken or cracked or worn down, anything that wasn’t how it should be. And now, that’s what he thought you were—something to be mended.

Your throat tightened, and you felt your eyes sting as a tear escaped, soft and warm on your cheek.

“Do you want us to pretend nothing happened?” you asked, your voice low but clear, cutting through the heaviness in the air.

“No,” he said, looking up quickly, like he was startled by the idea. When he saw your face, his brow twitched in concern. “No. But we can work it out; I know we can. We have to.”

You laughed, short and sharp, a hollow sound that escaped before you could think. You shook your head, as the irony hit you—how he thought he could repair something like this, as if he could slot you both back together seamlessly, like nothing was shattered, like no pieces were missing.

“How, Joel?” you asked, your voice tinged with exasperation, though your lips held a half-smile—an odd defense that barely softened the ache. “How am I supposed to act as if this never happened?”

He clasped his hands, his fingers moving restlessly against each other as he took in your words, his face an irritating calm that made you feel exposed, like you were some unpredictable force he needed to steady. When he finally spoke, his voice softened, though there was a tiny thread of frustration just barely visible.

“I’m not asking you to pretend or act, not at all,” he said, and the slight waver in his voice hinted at some urgency he was struggling to mask. “I just… we’re adults, you know? And sometimes things get messy. It doesn’t make it… doesn’t mean it was meant to be. It was just a mistake. That’s not who we are, you and I.”

“A mistake?” you echoed, his words heavy on your tongue, repeating them to see if they would settle into meaning. But they felt as alien as they sounded, and Joel could see it. He shook his head gently, almost admonishing, catching the resistance etched across your face.

“Yes, a mistake,” he replied, almost chiding, and then he sank forward, his head resting in his hands. His eyes closed, and you couldn't tell , but he was replaying some private memory; you didn’t know how often he’d been revisiting it in his mind—how his thoughts had kept catching on the feel of your skin, the taste of you, the soft pull of your fingers in his hair, the unmistakable sense of being surrounded by you: tight, warm, everywhere. Too much. It was a memory he couldn’t shake, and one that, in his mind, he had to. It was a torture that needed to stop.

He drew in a deep breath and looked up. “We can’t go there, not you and me. That’s not us.”

You leaned forward, heart pounding, voice edged with something sharper than before.

“A mistake?” you repeated, but this time louder, any hint of softness dissolving as it turned to raw anger. “What the hell, Joel?”

“That’s exactly what it was,” he started, his voice tentative, as if he were trying to convince you of something you didn’t want to believe. “We were arguing, a little drunk, and in the heat of the moment, things just… got out of hand—”

“Stop it.” Your interruption came out firm, a sharp edge cutting through the air between you. Joel froze, his gaze locking onto yours, as if you had just thrown a switch. “You know perfectly well that’s not what happened. If I remember correctly, we barely finished a bottle of wine, and you need a lot more than that to get drunk, don’t you?”

“I was mad,” he insisted, his voice rising slightly, a mix of defensiveness and frustration swirling in his tone. “I was angry, and you were teasing me with all those—”

“Bullshit.” The word slipped out with a fierceness that surprised even you. You shifted closer, locking your gaze onto his, making it impossible for him to look away. “We both know what happened wasn’t just a result of some drunken argument. You were angry, yes, and so was I, but it was still you and me.”

Joel shook his head slowly, exasperation spilling from him like a tide. He scrubbed his face with both hands, a gesture of weariness that spoke volumes about the struggle playing out in his mind.

“So what do you want me to tell you then?” he blurted, his frustration breaking through the surface, his voice loud enough to echo in your ears. “That I got carried away? That I completely screwed up and regret everything?”

At that, you felt a jolt of emotion surge through you. You sprang up from the couch, taking several steps back as if creating distance could shield you from the reality of what he was saying. You turned away, unable to hide the tears that had begun their silent descent down your cheeks. The worst suspicions you had harbored were confirmed; he was sorry, miserable at the thought of having touched you, and that thought cut deeper than you expected.

“Fuck you, Joel,” you spat, the words sharp and raw as you wiped your face with the sleeve of your pajamas. It was a pitiful gesture, but it felt like the only way to wipe away the emotional mess he had stirred up inside you. “Fuck off and leave me alone.”

“No,” he blurted out, the word escaping him almost like a plea. He sprang from his seat, crossing the space between you in just a few strides, desperation etched into the lines of his face. “Please, sunshine, please, we can fix this. We just need to talk it out and give it a little time—”

“Don’t ever call me that again.” The demand tumbled from your lips, cutting through the air with an urgency that surprised even you. You saw the flicker of hurt in his eyes, how your words landed like stones against his heart. “Don’t ever call me that again, Joel. I don’t want to listen to you. I can’t pretend this has a solution because, honestly, I don’t feel like there is one. You don't realize what's going on, do you? Or you're just too stubborn to do it, as usual, Joel, you're always so fucking stubborn about everything.”

“What do you want me to do?” His voice strained, as if he were grasping at straws, desperate for a lifeline.

“Nothing!” The word burst from you, frustration boiling over until it turned into a sob you wished you could swallow back. The tears threatened to overflow, blurring your vision and your resolve.

“Tell me what I can do, and I’ll do it. I—”

“Stop it, Joel.”

He reached out, his hand hovering in the air between you like a promise hanging unfulfilled. But you took a quick step back, your back hitting the wall with a thud that echoed in the silence, an absurd reminder of how trapped you felt in this moment.

What did you want him to do? To turn back time; not to leave your bed, to reciprocate for at least a few minutes more, to pretend it was okay, to lie to you at least. But that wasn't possible, and suddenly, the quiet sturdy house you had lived in all these years, hiding your feelings for your own good, had now collapsed.

Joel stared at you for a few seconds, his silence stretching between you like a taut wire ready to snap. You could see the shift in his expression, the way it softened and crumbled, no longer the confident facade he usually wore. Instead, he looked downcast, a man weighed down by burdens that felt alien to you, yet you could sense the depth of his struggle. Or so you thought.

Then, your name slipped from his lips like a broken prayer, fragile and desperate.

“I don’t want to lose you. I can’t lose you,” he implored, his voice wavering with an urgency that made your heart twist. “You’re the best friend I’ve ever had. Please listen to me, just for one more moment.”

In that instant, his words pierced through your defenses, sinking deep into your chest and igniting a flicker of hope. For a heartbeat, you were on the verge of rushing to him, promising that everything would be okay, that you could forget the hurt and revert to the easy laughter and shared secrets of before. You could stash away all your feelings, pack them neatly into boxes, and hide them away forever just to keep him close. But reality loomed over you like a storm cloud, and you knew that was no longer an option; everything had irrevocably shifted. You couldn't bear to look at him without feeling the sharp sting of heartbreak.

Swallowing hard, you tasted the salt of your tears, and it burned your throat like an unwelcome reminder of the turmoil within.

“I’m not sure I can be your friend anymore, Joel,” you confessed, your voice shaking with the weight of your admission.

He shook his head, disbelief flashing across his features as a weak smile broke through the hurt. It was as if he couldn’t quite fathom the words that had just escaped you.

“You don’t mean that.”

“Yes, I do,” you asserted, each syllable a battle against the rawness in your chest.

“No, you don’t,” he countered, stepping back just inches, his tone laced with incredulity. The mocking sneer that crept onto his face felt more like a mask than a reflection of his true feelings, and yet, the moisture pooling in his eyes betrayed the battle raging within him.

You regarded him in silence, the atmosphere thickening with unspoken words as you watched his smile fade into something that was almost painful. It twisted his features, morphing into a look of discomfort that hung between you like an unsaid apology. He remained still, his gaze locked onto yours, waiting for you to break the tension with a word or a gesture. The sight of him like that burned inside you, igniting a longing to rewind time, to swallow your questions, to let him live his life free from the weight of your curiosity and the tangled feelings that had blossomed between you. But that wasn’t an option; the reality of your situation loomed large and unavoidable. You had to confront the truth: he didn’t feel the same way about you, and for him, sleeping with you felt like a transgression, a sin, a burden he couldn’t carry.

“Joel, please,” you began, your voice cracking under the pressure of your emotions. A tear slipped down your cheek, salty and bitter, tasting of the anguish that your words carried. “I can’t be your friend anymore. I can’t do this. I’m sorry, I really am, but you’re breaking my—” You hesitated, swallowing hard against the swell of grief that threatened to overwhelm you. “I think this is over.”

His eyes darted between yours, searching for the meaning behind your confession, as if trying to decode the gravity of your words. A flicker of something—perhaps understanding or denial—crossed his face before a semblance of a smile returned, albeit a strained one. He nodded gently, his gaze dropping to the floor, avoiding your eyes as if he were trying to hide from the truth that hung in the air between you.

In that moment, an overwhelming impulse surged within you—a fierce desire to bridge the chasm that had opened between you, to run to him, to tangle your fingers in his hair, to pull him close and make everything right again. You wanted to erase the pain, to heal the wounds that you both had inflicted.

But you didn't. You held back in silence waiting for him to move first. And when he looked up and fixed his eyes for the last time on you, you knew you were right: nothing would ever be the same, ever again, for when he turned on his heel and finally left without another word, your whole world fell at your feet.  It was over. 

-

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[glassartpeasants]

How to Love

Eustass Kid/Trafalgar Law x F!Reader

Warnings: angst, fluff, semi-slow burn?, beginnings to chapters are hard </3

A/N: yeah here we are. just wanted to set a light on what the base plan is. Also, this takes place RIGHT after the prologue ends. hopefully, it's good for a first chapter.

music playlist

~~~

Your heart beats harshly against your ribs as the events of only moments ago replay in your mind like a broken record. The images of the two most significant people in your world, your boyfriend and your best friend, betraying you, makes your head spin. It almost feels unreal, like a nightmare instead of reality.

But it wasn’t a dream. It was a harsh reality, a stark contrast to the life you thought you were living.

Instead of waking up next to your boyfriend, you find yourself in a disorienting place: your ex-best friend's ex-boyfriend's car. Random items you managed to grab scattered across the passenger side and on your lap. The smell of Eustass’s cologne, a scent that used to bring comfort, now only added to your heartbreak, still plaguing your nose.

“Thank you, Law. You really didn’t have to.” Despite being almost inaudible, Law still heard you like you were screaming. The tremble in your voice notifies him of his own inability to speak without breaking down.

“It’s fine. Thank you for telling me about (.....)-ya’s infidelity.” The fact you even told him in the first place shocked him. You had known (.....) for years, and she was your best friend, while you only had a class project with him. Given that it was a whole semester-long, you were willing to throw away a friendship just like that. 

“You're a good guy, Law. You don’t deserve to be cheated on. Whether we’re friends or strangers. I would have told you regardless. No one deserves such heartbreak.” Law can see tears slipping down your cheeks out of the corner of his eyes. The fact that you're trying to stay strong after being the one to discover the affair is admirable in a sense. It could also be that you didn’t want him to see you cry. The latter sounds more plausible.

“I'm glad I didn’t delete your number. It would have been awkward if I had tried to catch you at work.” A small, sad chuckle left your lips. The tension in the car was too much, and you needed something to keep your mind distracted so you didn’t start wailing in front of Law.

“That would have been a scene I’m grateful we avoided. I like to keep my private life and work life separate.” 

“I’m the same in a sense. I don’t tell my co-workers much except to recommend shows or movies. I know you're more of a book guy, but have you seen any shows or movies recently?”

“(.....)-ya made me watch a movie the other day. It was a horror movie.”

“Oh. Was it good?”

“No, it was terrible.” You couldn’t help but let out a small laugh at Law's cold tone.

“Bad effects, or was it a storyline issue?”

“I could’ve made a better movie with a budget of two dollars.” Even though tears still fall from your eyes against your wishes, Law manages to make you laugh to ease the pain.

“Well, have you read any good books recently?”

“Haven’t had the time.” Law’s admission made your eyes furrow together. You know the medical field could be rough, but there wasn't enough time for him to read?

"The bookworm hasn't read recently? Are you sure you're the real Law?" A small smile tugs at the corner of Law’s lips as he listens to you talk, but even he can only hide the effects of heartbreak for so long.

Whether Law knew it or not, you could see tiny droplets of water gather in his eyes. Seeing him trying to hold it together made it just a bit harder to prevent yourself from breaking down. You grip the seat of his car and try to regulate your breathing. Clenching your teeth together,  you lay your head on the window and look outside. The sudden tap of water hitting the glass makes you jump. You look around and watch as more water droplets start hitting the car. 

“It’s raining. I thought it was supposed to be sunny all day?”

“I thought so, too.” The thick, tense silence rose once again, making it hard to breathe. If there had been enough room, you would have curled yourself up in a ball and cried. But you could do that when you get to...

“Where are we going?”

“My apartment. Just for now.”

“Ah, okay. Do you have any alcohol at your place?”

“Maybe some (.....)-ya left. Why?”

“So we can drink away our sadness.”

“I’m not much of a drinker.” A second silence covers the car.

“So I can drink away our sadness.”

“We’ll see when we get there.”

~~~

Your feet feel heavy as you walk into Law’s apartment. It’s been a while since you’ve been inside it. After the project was finished, you stopped coming over. Law’s busy schedule and your own just didn’t mix. Sometimes, you’d text him to check up on him and ask him how he was doing. He’d take hours or a day to respond, but you never held it against him. He always answered before it had been 48 hours, so it was okay with you.

Looking around his apartment, you see things that hadn’t been there before: some plants, many pictures on the wall, a TV, and some knickknacks you recognize that belong to (.....). The atmosphere was more welcoming than when you first visited Law’s apartment. If an apartment could feel like a hospital waiting room, then that’d be Law’s place before (.....) put her touch on it.

Placing your things near the couch, you take a deep breath as you rub your sternum to try and soothe the pain in your chest. All the pictures of Law and (.....) smiling happily nailed to the walls made your throat go dry. The images of your own apartment clouded your vision as you remembered your own photos with Eustass. Pictures of times when you did matching Halloween costumes, went to concerts together, relaxed at a beach together, or the two of you would just stay home. Every picture held a memory. 

A once cherished memory is now tainted by the image of betrayal. No amount of effort can make that image disappear. Even your happiest memories become blurry when you hear (.....) calling out Eustass's name. It ignites a fiery rage inside you, and seeing (.....)'s face everywhere makes you clench your teeth. You feel like tearing apart every picture of Law and (.....) just to remove her face from your sight. Every bone in your body screams at you to lose control. To destroy everything that reminds you of Eustass and (.....) until it is nothing but microscopic pieces.

But you weren’t home. The home you once had was now lost to time. For now, your ‘home’ depends on whether Law will allow you to stay the night for tonight.

“You can stay the night on the couch for tonight if you want. I have blankets in the closet over there.” You let out an internal breath of relief from Law, answering your question without being asked.

“Thank you, Law. Can I make you dinner or something? Just so I can repay your kindness?” You watch Law lean against the kitchen counter before crossing his arms. His eyes staring out into space.

“I haven’t gone shopping yet this week, so I don’t have much.”

“I’m sure I can craft up something.”

“If you want, then go ahead.” The sound of a ringtone brings a silence to the both of you. You check your phone and see the screen’s black.

“I think it’s yours.” Pulling out his phone from his pocket, you watch Law look at the screen. A frown crosses his face immediately, letting you know the caller. Letting out a heavy sigh, you watch him answer the phone.

“What do you want (.....)-ya?” While you couldn’t understand what she was saying, the tone of her voice was frantic. You could hear sobs coming from the other line. Hearing them pissed you off to hell and back. Didn’t (.....) have a shred of decency? How dare she plead and beg after she committed such an act?

You had to sit on the couch to calm yourself down just so you wouldn’t start screaming at (.....) through the phone. As soon as your body relaxed on the couch, a wave of soreness came over you. It feels as if you’ve been working out for hours on end and only now stopped. Even your eyelids felt heavy as you feel tears starting to form and blur your vision. Trying to breathe normally falls short as you begin to hyperventilate. Your lungs burn as you can feel your throat constricting. It feels like you're swallowing your heart just to keep yourself quiet.

“I meant what I said (.....)-ya. I’m breaking up with you, and that’s final. You can come get your things tomorrow afternoon.” Hearing Law’s voice helped soothe a part of your aching soul. Hearing something other than your own ragged breathing helped calm down the streams of tears that were flowing down your face.

“I’m done talking with you (.....)-ya. Goodbye.” The sound of Law’s calls ending made you rub your face, trying to hide the tears that plagued you seconds ago.

“Your more civil than I would have been. I probably wouldn’t have even picked up her call.” Your voice cracked as you tried to let out a small laugh.

“She was asking me for a ride. Apparently, her and Eustass got in a fight, and he threw her out in the rain.” Scoffing in disbelief, you turn your head to look at Law, hoping he wouldn’t notice your puffy eyes.

“She asked you for a ride after cheating on you? Serves her right, getting thrown in the rain. Hope she gets a cold.” You can see Law’s body tremble and how he bites his lip. His eyes get glassy as he looks at the ceiling.

“Fucking a man.” Even from across the room, you can hear Law whispering to himself. You hated seeing him like this. Watching someone you care about hurt only adds to the pain you feel.

“Hey…do you wanna watch something to get our minds off them?”

“I should go back to work. They probably need me.” You let out a hum, hearing his words. A slight feeling of rejection crosses your mind, but you're quick to shake it off. The last thing you wanted was to make him uncomfortable. And if he was the type to work away his feelings, who were you to stop him?

“Well, drive safe. It sounds like the rain is hitting harder.” The sound of rain beating against the windows of Law’s apartment was finally acknowledged. Its beat almost matched Law’s own heartbeat as he thought about the phone call only minutes ago.

Hearing (.....)’s voice felt like nails on a chalkboard as she tried to explain what happened. The voice that once calmed his aching heart was now the reason it hurt. It was astonishing how fast his whole world flipped upside down. Earlier today, he couldn’t wait to come home and see (.....) and have her talk to him about her day. But now, instead of (.....) smiling at him, you were sitting on his couch with puffy eyes.

The way he could hear the tremble in your voice and how the light shined against the path of tears left on your face made his own wave of emotions try to surface. Even if he could tell you were trying hard to hold them back, he could see tears collect against your eyelashes. The sight had tears accumulating in his own eyes, making him look up at the ceiling to try and stop them. He didn’t need to show how bad (.....)’s betrayal has affected him. At least not in front of you.

Sure, you guys were going through the same thing together, but it wouldn’t help him or you if he let his own emotions out. It’d just be easier to shove them down, ignore them, and work until the pain left. He’s done it before, so he can do it again. 

“Um, Law?” Looking back down, he sees you standing in front of him. You refuse to meet his eyes as you fiddle with the bottom of your shirt.

“Yeah?”

“Can I hug you?” Law felt his heart skip a beat hearing your request. A part of him told himself no that he’d break down the moment you wrapped your arms around him. Yet, the voice of someone he used to know told him something different.

“Okay.” As soon as the words left his lips, he felt your body smushed up against his. Your arms held him in a tight embrace as the sound of your hushed sniffles made Law finally cave. Wrapping his own arms around you, a sense of comfort filled him. The feeling of being cared for once again was nice yet terrifying. As soon as the feeling would come, it’d leave just as fast.

But for now, he’ll indulge in your hold.

~~~

The blanket that wrapped around you did little to replicate Law’s hug. Sure, you were warm, but it wasn’t the same. It reminded you of how alone you were. You had no family in this city, and your only friends were (.....) and Law, but you wouldn’t count him as an option due to the current predicament. It felt like you were running in circles with every idea that popped into your head. Always leading to a dead end and making you start all over again.

You couldn’t go back home. It’d take you around three to four hours to drive there! Plus, you didn’t leave on a good note with your parents when you left for college. And if their last words to you were anything to go by, they didn’t want you back. You shake your head at the thought of your parents.

“No. No need to drag myself down even more thinking about them.” Slithering your hand out of your blanket cocoon, you grab your phone that was on your right. The black screen stared at you as it showed your reflection. Eyes red from tears earlier and a cut lip from biting on it so hard earlier.

A ding echoes across the empty apartment as the phone's black screen soon turns on. The quick flash makes your eyes burn before squinting to try and get used to the brightness. Once adjusted, you see a message from Law hiding in your notification bar.

-“I need a favor from you.”

-“Sure, what ya need?”

-“(.....)-ya is supposed to be getting her things this morning. I want you to make sure she takes everything and leaves her key in the dish by the door.”

A frown skims across your face as the thought of seeing (.....)’s face makes your stomach churn. It’s only been a day, and you're already forced to see her face? At the same time, Law did allow you to stay the night last night. So, despite your distaste for seeing (.....), you agreed.

-“Will do. Can count on me :)”

-“Thanks.”

-“How’s working going so far?”

-“Fine.”

-“That's good”

The urge to ask him what his plans were with you after you did him this favor ate at your conscience as soon as you sent that last text. Law was really the only one whose place you felt safe enough to sleep at. And he’s the only person you have in the entire city. You didn’t have a license since a lot of things were always within walking distance, so you never had a reason to. 

But now, you were on the complete other side of the city. What used to be a five-minute walk to your job now would take at least thirty minutes. You had no idea where anything was on this side of the city. Sure, you and Law would go grab an energy drink from the gas station when the two of you worked the night away on that old project, but that was two years ago. Who knows? Maybe that gas station doesn’t even exist anymore!

“Do you go here a lot?”

“To buy an energy drink and coffee every now and then.” The sound of small pebbles crunching under your and Law’s shoes goes unnoticed as you walk next to him.

“Okay, so every day then?” A laugh escapes your lips as Law rolls his eyes, yet a small smile plays against his lips.

“This gas station is the only place that sells my favorite one.”

“Which is?”

“Can’t tell you. What if you take it?” A smirk appears on his lips as he puts his hands in his pockets. Scoffing, you place your hand on your chest in fake offense.

“I can’t believe you’d think so lowly of me. Stealing your beloved drink? Only a monster could be so heartless!” Hearing Law let out a chuckle from your words made a heavy feeling of confidence run through your veins. He was always relatively quiet when in class, so it was nice to see him show emotion other than ‘bored.’

“How much farther? I’m dying to know the favorite drink of the future best doctor in the world.” A faint pink tints Law’s skin as he tries to look away from you, hoping you don’t see what your comment did to him.

“You really think so?” Despite trying to copy your playful tone, you can hear his self-doubt and hopefulness that your words were true.

“I know so! No one works harder than you! If anyone says otherwise, tell me and I’ll kick their ass.” Law could feel his palms grow sweaty, and his heart beat a little faster. 

Sure, he’s gotten praise from his teacher, but hearing it come from someone he had just met and barely knew felt a little more sincere? Why, he didn’t know, but he won’t complain.

“Will do.”

KNOCK KNOCK

The sound of light knowing pulls you from your memories. Looking up at the clock, you see it’s nearly three pm. You sigh as you shed the multiple layers of blankets you were snuggled in. The rage and anger from yesterday are still strong in your system, making you clench your fists. You walk towards the door when you hear your fingers popping from the sheer force. Unlocking it, you take a deep breath before fully opening it.

In front of you stood a very unkempt (.....). Her hair was in a messy ponytail, accompanied by red eyes and a red face. Makeup from the night before was still applied to her skin as mascara streaked down her face. Your eyes even caught the barely covered hickeys and bite marks that shined through her concealer.

“(Y-Y/N)?...Why are you…Where’s Law?” Her pitiful voice made you squeeze the doorknob tighter to try and calm yourself.

“He’s at work. Not that it’s any of your business, but he was kind enough to let me spend the night.” Your eyes narrowed at her as you couldn’t help but glare daggers at the marks on her neck. Noticing your stare, (.....) moved her shoulder to cover her neck.

“I see…” You move to let her in and shut the door behind her. She lets out a shaky breath before beginning to take down the multiple pictures hanging along the wall. The sound of sniffles hits your ears as you watch her grab the frames with shaky hands. Listening to her hold back tears made you struggle to hold your own.

How could she have done this? Years of friendship only to throw it away for some dick? Did you mean so little to her? You’ve been with her for everything! Breakups, grandparents passing, getting in trouble together, anything and everything you’ve done for her! If she needed a kidney transplant, you would’ve volunteered right away!

Now, seeing how a friendship can easily be thrown away like trash after years made bitterness fill your heart. If your best friend and boyfriend could betray you without so much of a second thought, what does that say about the strangers all around you?

What does that say about you? Did you do something to deserve this? Was (.....) mad at you and thought fucking your lover would get back at you? There had to be a reason. To be an explanation for the horror you saw yesterday. Maybe after a drink or two after (.....) leaves will calm you down.

~~~

“You got everything?”

“Yeah.” Just as she was about to walk out the door, you remembered that she still hadn't given you the key.

“I need the apartment key.” Putting your hand out, you move your eyes to your hand and back at her.

“I-I don’t have it.” Furrowing your brows, you sigh.

“Don’t bullshit me. I’ve known you for years, and I know when you lie. Now give me the goddamn keys (.....).” You watch (.....) bite her lip before digging into her jacket pocket. The light shined off the key as she gently put it in your hands.

“Can you say goodbye to Bepo for me?” Confusion hit you like a train at her request.

“What the hell are-you know what? Fine. I’ll say bye.”

“Thanks.” Closing the door, you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. After locking the door behind her, you placed her old key in the dish Law has near the door for his keys. (.....) request puzzled you as you tried to think of what she was talking about.

“What the hell is a Bepo?”

Just then, a light pitter-patter echos in the apartment. Your heart stops as the sound gets closer. There shouldn’t be anyone else in the apartment but you. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you try to move quietly towards the kitchen to grab something to defend yourself.

“Meow!” You stop in your tracks upon hearing that noise. Embarrassment floods your body as you move even closer to the noise. Upon turning the corner, you see a white cat walking in your direction. A big white cat.

“Can’t believe I got spooked by a damn cat. Didn’t even know Law had a cat…a fatass one nonetheless.” Bending down, you move your hand to let the cat smell you. A smile appears on your face when it rubs against you.

“Hmm? What’s this?” Moving the fluff from his neck, you see a collar with a tag. Squinting your eyes, you finally see the name engraved on the tag.

“Ohhh…your Bepo! Well, aren’t you a cutie-pie?” With (.....) 's request finally making sense, you fight to actually fulfill it. With a sigh, you pick up Bepo and hold him gently. 

“Let’s send your dad a selfie. I think he’ll appreciate it.” You go to the couch, pick up your phone, and find the right angle for the picture. When you find the right spot, you smile as Bepo rubs his head against your face.

“Say cheese!”

~~~

It’d been a long day at the hospital. It felt like nothing went right. Sure, he put in his all, but he had to tell people how they were diagnosed with a terminal illness or dealing with dumb co-workers. The only good thing today did for him was keep (.....) out of his head. But now that work was over, the nagging thoughts could finally bother him once more.

Sighing as he unlocked his apartment door, he was immediately hit with the smell of something cooking. Whatever it was, it smelled good, and he was happy that he didn’t have to make anything tonight. When he went to put his keys in the dish designated for them, he saw (.....)’s key lying in the middle. A wave of relief washed over him as he finished taking off his shoes and coat.

“Oh, Law, are you home?” Your voice rings in his ears as he walks further into his apartment. He spots you setting up the table while humming to yourself.

“Yeah, I’m back. Did you make something?”

“Well, you’ve been at work for sixteen hours, so obviously, you should be hungry! Not to mention that you deserved a home-cooked meal after working so hard.” Moving closer to the dinner table, he sees a plate of grilled fish along with a can of what looks to be sparkling water. The smell of his favorite food drew him closer, and he felt a sense of calm filled him. It’d be the second night in a row you made him dinner.

“Where did you get the fish? I don’t remember having any?”

“Oh, after (.....) took her stuff and left, I used GPS to find a store nearby, and there was an organic type of food store only two blocks away! So I went shopping and got things! Except for beverages, so I stopped by the gas station we used to go to and got sparkling water 'cause you don’t drink and no way you’d drink an energy boost at eight pm.” You continued talking, but it was lost on Law’s ears as he stared at the set-up table. The fact you put yourself to go grocery shopping and making him dinner made his sour mood from only moments ago lighten.

“Thank you.” As he moves to wash his hands in the sink, he sees his beloved cat following you and purring.

“I see you’ve met Bepo.” Upon speaking, the cat changed his attention to Law. Bepo begins to meow as he prances towards Law’s feet before rubbing against them. Leaning down, Law gives him a few pets before washing his hands.

“I didn’t even know you had a cat. Did you just get him?”

“No. I’ve had him for almost a year and a half. Why?” He watches you lift your eyebrows and look at Bepo before looking back at Law.

“What?”

“Law. Do you see how big that cat is?” Despite just washing his hands, Law picks up Bepo and holds him in his arms.

“What about it? He’s growing.”

“That cat is obese. He needs a diet.”

“Bepo is perfect the way he is.” You couldn’t help but giggle as you watched him hold Bepo protectively and away from you.

“You can be delusional all you want, but come eat before the food gets cold.” Turning your back, you begin to dish up after washing your hands. You can hear Law rewashing his own before sitting on the opposite side of the table.

As awkward as it may be, the presence of one another brings a slight calm to your new chaotic world.

~~~

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[cyborg-franky]

Hi! I recently discovered this and i took me a while read everything but i just couldn't stop it, I love it! Can you someday write something about F reader and Ace like childhood friends to lovers?

Aaaah I am glad you like! And I hope you like this, I don't do gendered readers I'm afaird <3 I hope thats okay.

Ace x GN Reader SFW WC: 889

You’d known Ace since you were both kids, when he wasn’t roughhousing and causing trouble with his brothers he was with you. You’d lay on the grass together and stare at the sky, watching the clouds. You could tell he enjoyed these moments as much as you, tired from a day of rolling around and screaming at Sabo and Luffy he just took the time to breathe in your company. 

“That cloud looks like a goat,” You pointed and Ace followed your finger, narrowing his eyes at the white fluffy shape before scoffing. “More like a sabertooth tiger,” He replied as if that was a simple fact and you were wrong. You huffed back at him. “But the horns look!” You nudged him with your elbow and waved your finger, trying desperately to paint the picture for him.

“You're blind!” He nudged back. “What?” You sat up and frowned at him, he sat up with you and wrapped an arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer to him as he nodded to the shape. “No, no, look at it this way!” You rolled your eyes knowing you were right.

Despite the occasional disagreement, he was your best friend, and every moment you spent with him you were at your happiest.

-

“What?” You asked, loudly as you almost dropped your drink and stared at him. “Yeah! I got a boat and a crew, I’m finally ready to set sail as a pirate!” you shook your head, thinking about the long months he’d vanished, you’d been worried sick about him and now he came back with all these wild promises of adventure and claims he was ready to set sail and make something of himself.

Sure, he’d grown up, filled out, and come back with a devil fruit power, he still hadn’t gone into the details about that, but still. Ace was happier, confident and you were happy for him but the way he was coming back into your life just to leave again? 

You were both teenagers and despite the time and space that was ever between you over the years you remained best friends. You felt your heart ache as he carried on talking about how he was going to leave today, how the world was waiting for him. You’d always known he was desperate to be heard, to be seen, to pave his own way, and to avoid the looming shadow of his father's legacy, you’d just always hoped you could be at his side for it. To see him shine like the star he was.

“So,” You started and he watched you “You came back after all this time just to leave again?” to leave ME again.

“I- what? No!” He slammed his hands on the table, making the cups wobble and spill. “I was coming to ask you to join me! I don’t think I could do this without you.” He said with determination to get you on his side again before he reached over the table to grab your hands. “Come on, like we always talked about!”

–

Despite your better judgment you joined his crew, and became a Spade pirate. You hadn’t been serious when you were kids, how you’d both talk about the possible future but you couldn’t be without him again and you had a feeling he wouldn’t have taken no for an answer. Ace was as stubborn as he was cute.

You even stayed by his side when the Whitebeard Pirates had assimilated you all to their ranks, you’d cleaned Ace’s cuts, bandaged his wounds, and tried to talk him out of killing Whitebeard, though you knew that was never going to happen. 

It had been years now, the way you carried on growing up side by side. You’d held his hand when he’d taken the leap and gotten the huge tattoo on his back, you had a matching one, just much smaller than the one that marked his pride in his new life and role as the second division commander.

You’d gotten closer and spent all your free time with him. He was lying on your bed as you finished washing up for the night, ready for bed, and watching as Ace was dozing off on the bed. This was how it always happened, he had his own room but more times than not he would fall asleep on your bed and you’d wake up bing spooned by him. His strong arms around your waist and his lips against your neck as he snored.

“Marco asked how long we’d been dating today,” you started and he snapped awake, looking at you from under his hat. “And what did you tell him?” you laughed at his reaction, he must have been asked the same question by other whitebeards. “I said since we were young.”

You got into bed next to him, taking his hat and setting it on the nightstand, gently brushing back his hair and seeing his brows furrow as he wrinkled his nose. “Are we dating?”  you shrugged and got comfy, feeling him latch onto you almost instantly, 

“I think we crossed the line of what is acceptable for friends a while ago.” You said, closing your eyes as you felt the breath from his chuckle tickle your neck from how close he was nuzzling you.

“Yeah, I guess so.”

[alwayscorvus]

Till we fall apart

Till we fall apart

malereader x Calcharo, slight angst to fluff; shortest short of my life; like not really a post just a thing to think about; imagine;

-I can't believe you finally visited me! I started to think that those promises you made in your letters were just an attempt to pull the wool over my eyes

Your red-haired friend couldn't hide her excitement. It has been... how long? Since your first and last meeting? Three years? Your bond has grown significantly over that time but it didn't change the fact that seeing each other in person brought you both great joy.

-Well… I have to admit that at the beginning it indeed was like that-

You got a solid slap on the head for your words and laughed at it sincerely.

-But I'm glad that fate finally brought us together -you sent a broad smile in her direction- Of course, it would have been better if I hadn't lost my job in the process... -you scratched the back of your neck rather ashamed- But if this is how it was supposed to go, there is nothing I can do.

-I still can't believe they fired you- You worked for them for so long! And it was your first job! -she bit her lips- You took plenty of extra hours… and helped them so much! And they? How could they?! -girl was frankly outraged and annoyed- But don't worry! This is a great opportunity. We will find something perfect for you here!

You looked at Chixia truly horrified. You didn't plan to stay here for long. You had spent your entire life in your hometown, always avoiding leaving its gates. And after this vacations you planned to continue doing so.

-Oh sorry-

-Sorry!

You both said almost at the same moment. You lifted your head up, examining closely at whom you bumped into.

When your heart stopped beating.

Your eyes came across those unforgettable silvery ones.

That distinct Tacet Mark adorning his forehead-… And long white hair flowing in all directions-…

His facial expression didn't say much but his eyes betrayed a sense of horror and unbelief. All in one.

Man passed you with a quick movement and disappeared into the crowd of pedestrians.

-[M/N]? Is everything okay?

Chixia's worried voice awoke you from your trance.

-Yeah, yeah -you quickly put a fake smile on your face- So are we going to get that food?

You've been in Huanglong for about five days now, and have slowly begun to get used it. At the beginning, you met with Chixia most of the time. Accompanied her not only in her free time but in reconnaissance as well. You also met her friends. At that time, you were never bored. Since the last two days, however, this has changed. Big "secret" mission sentenced you to being alone. But you tried not to complain and explore an interesting nooks and crannies of the city in peace. It was going brilliant. You tasted a lot of good food, heard more than one legend and saw breathtaking things.

Everything would have been great if not for one problem. Whatever you did, wherever you went you felt someone's stare on you. Although it didn't happen for a whole day, it was still extremely annoying and creepy.

You tried to discover the culprit many times. But whenever you turned around, you couldn't see anything except a few deserted buildings or ordinary natives.

However, everything was about to change this evening.

You leaned against the railing. Below you an endless sea spread out, illuminated by the glow of stars that adorned the dark, gloomy sky.

-I was waiting for you to finally show up.

You didn't turn around. You knew that your oppressor was standing just a few steps behind and that he had finally decided to reveal himself.

-You shouldn't be here.

That voice… A shiver went through you. Memories came flooding back like an avalanche.

-I'm glad to see you, too.

-You shouldn't be here.

-You repeat yourself.

-You shouldn't be here.

You growled flustered.

-Exactly like you!

You squeezed the railing tighter. Tears began to run down on your cheeks in streams.

-You knew I had no choice- he sighed.

Finally, he took off his mask.

-Yeah… At least that's what you told me ten years ago. When you said goodbye to me. When we were still friends -you spat out sentences full of venom.

-I wasn't right for you. You would have been better without me.

-Pity that you didn't let me decide about it myself.

You began to tremble. You no longer knew whether it was due to emotions or evening cold.

Calcharo moved closer to you and, with a slow movement, snuggled into your back.

-You are not like me. You are someone better. Made for greater things -he spoke to you using the voice from your past- With me you wouldn't have a future.

You snorted.

-You know I just lost my job? I am currently unemployed with no potential to find anything better. I spent my last savings to go here. When I return, I won't even have enough money for rent. And you? How are you doing?

Calcharo furrowed his eyebrows, squeezed you tighter and snuggled his head into the crook of your neck. His hair tickled your bare skin nicely.

-At least you're not doing anything bad.

You ignored this and continued.

-And do you know why I can't find anything else? Because after you left me, I quit school. All I know now is to how forge weapons.

-Many people need that.

-Do you need that? Do you need me?

You subconsciously tried to seize every opportunity.

-[M/N]… You know we shouldn't-…. - his voice was almost pleading.

Calcharo was always cold and hid his emotions well. What you loved about him, however, was that deep down he cared about those closest to him. Mostly he did it in secret, but your parting seems to have knocked down barriers in him.

-If that's so, there's nothing here for me.

You announced in a firm voice. And pushed away from a railing, trying to slip out of his embrace. Calcharo, however, refused to let you leave.

Frustrated, you let out an excess of air.

-Will you find a place for me in your life?

He didn't answer so you laughed bitterly.

-Since you don't want me, there is no point of me being here now. I'm going back.

Despite your words, you made no move. You were waiting in anticipation.

-Stay with me one night.

Your laughter was endless.

-My one night equals a lifetime.

You finally turned toward him as he slightly loosened his grip. Calcharo took a few steps back.

He looked at you clearly beating with his thoughts.

He had to come with a solution fast. He knew that you were stubborn in your decisions. That's why he abandoned you back then without listening to your arguments.

Yet, minutes passed and your anxiety grew.

-Alright -he stretched his hand towards you.

And you? You reciprocated the gesture.

In the end it wasn't so hard to convince him. He probably missed you, too. He probably couldn't find his place on earth without you either…

I'm not really proud of it but I just heard "People you know" from Selena and had to write it.

[animeomegas]

Hiiii authorrr, super excited for this event, can I get my greedy hands on some delicious hcs of the prompt swimming in the lake for Asmo,,with it being completely unintentional and originally meant to be a tour around the palace grounds?

Yeahhh he’s def pissed off and distressed over ruining his meticulously applied makeup / outfit for his first official date with his friend now turned potential lover, but all of those feelings fade away when Reader simply jumps in with him and starts worrying over him this will then definitely not start a water fight with Asmo laughing at readers first thought being getting in the water with him instead of pulling him up,,

Oh for some backround, reader and Asmo are childhood best friends, and when Asmo told them about his advisors starting to pressure for him to get married while he was still “young and fertile”, reader sent in a letter requesting to court him the next day

Hello! I'm glad you're excited! I'm happy to get an Obey Me! request, I've been craving some of those recently hehe.

...

ASMO + CHILDHOOD FRIENDS + ACCIDENTAL SWIM IN THE LAKE

"When you said 'walk in the garden', I thought you meant the rose garden," Asmo grumbled, holding the edge of his long dress up at the hem to avoid it getting caught on any brambles or mud. "Not the wilderness."

"But you've seen the rose garden a million times, Asmo, how boring!" you exclaimed, taking in a deep breath of the fresh air. "I'm taking you somewhere special, behind the lake."

"I like the rose garden," Asmo sniffed. "It's a lot nicer than whatever this is."

You rolled your eyes, too used to his fear of getting dirty to bother arguing with him. You had made your case about the joy of frolicking in the woods countless times, but Asmo had never agreed with you.

You walked in silence for a few moments until the back of the lake came into view as the trees parted. Asmo let out a gasp at what he saw. It was a little rocky shore that led to the lake, unobscured by human presence, and filled with wildlife that had taken refuge in the wilder parts of the palace grounds.

"It's beautiful," Asmo breathed, eyes wide.

"Isn't it?" you agreed. "I discovered this spot a few years ago when I was hiding from the servants who wanted to give me a bath."

Asmo pulled a face at that. He took more baths than anyone you knew.

"Here," you said, taking off your jacket and laying it down on the ground of the shore. "Sit."

Asmo hesitated, but eventually he pulled up his dress and gently lowered himself to the ground. You plopped down beside him, uncaring about the dirt.

You both looked out at the view together in silence for a moment.

"Listen," Asmo said hesitantly. "I-I wanted to say thank you, for sending that proposal. You gave up the possibility of a love match to save me from a horrible arranged marriage and-"

"I would have never chosen to do anything else. You are my best friend," you said firmly. You didn't want Asmo to feel indebted to you when it was his parents in the wrong for trying to use his beauty to marry him off to the richest suitor, no matter how old or nasty. Asmo didn't deserve that.

"Still, thank you," he said softly, hugging his knees to his chest.

"Being married to a friend will be much more fun than anything else," you said, your voice ending the conversation.

Asmo took a deep breath and then an image of determination settled on his face.

"I'm going to look at the birds by the lake," was the only thing he said before rising from his seat and striding towards the water.

"Wait, Asmo! The rocks can get slippery over there-"

Too late. Asmo's foot slipped out from under him and he splashed straight into the lake.

Your heart dropped as you heard his screech. Without evening thinking, you kicked off your shoes and any outer layers that you could before jumping in after him with a shout of his name.

"Asmo!"

The water was freezing. You pushed the shock feeling down and tried to swim, only to realise you were crouched in hip deep water. Oh yeah. The lake was shallow at this point.

"Ugh!" Asmo groaned. "My hair and make up are ruined! And my dress! Do you know how many hours it took my to get ready this morning?"

You did. You had heard the servants complaining about it.

"And why," he continued, staring at you with angry eyes. "Did you jump in here instead of pulling me out?"

Your brain stalled.

"Er, yeah," you said, scratching the back of your head. "That probably would have been a better plan."

You and Asmo stared at each other for a moment, dripping cold water.

You were the first one to break the silence with a giggle, before you burst out into full on laughs. Asmo remained grumpy for a couple more seconds until he cracked and joined you in laughter.

Yes, being married to your best friend was definitely the best possible outcome.

[justajayyyy]

What was your favorite part about working on TMOM? What's a memorable moment that'll forever stick with you from TMOM? Give Gigi and the cast and crew all our love!

Hi!!

Gosh where do I begin?

Honestly, 2019 was the hardest time in my life when I discovered TMOM. I had just barely managed to avoid dying from septic shock in the hospital due to an infected gallbladder. During that time, I was also struggling severely with my mental health and trying to stay out of hospitalizations.

I remember I was in the middle of a big Sonic hyperfixation after watching some lore videos, leading me to comic dubs and TMOM. At first, I thought it was the edgiest Sonic content, but at the same time, it was something I'd never seen done with the franchise before. I LOVE the concept of the gods and the triple S actually having a purpose. The triple S are my favorite characters in the Sonic franchise, so it was like, "holy shit MY BOYS?? AND THEYRE WRITTEN PERFECTLY???"

I remember I joined the team shortly after the transitional period between the old VAs and the past editor's departure, I took over editing after offering GG my skills for free.

I can't begin to tell you how many amazing people I have met, how supportive Gigi, Emery, Ant-- literally everyone on this team has been when I've had my moments. When I was struggling, they helped me so much. The team behind issue 15 are some of the most dedicated people I have ever met and they're all incredibly talented and sweet in their own ways, especially when you see their work in the video.

Working for GG, being an editor for TMOM is not easy and isn't something anyone can do. Gigi has a particular set of rules and key things to note and expects to be made into the final project. Things that I struggled with, but never gave up on. It was a learning curve as an editor for 8 years at that time (14 now), I learned how to use Adobe Premiere, I implemented new things into my technique, I grew into an editor I never thought I'd be.

I think, my absolute favorite video I have ever done, is Hollow. I'll stand by this as being some of my best editing work and was all done primarily in premiere with using SV for effects and occasional overlays done in separate clips. I was able to nail such impactful moments and it shows as issues 14 and 15 came around.

Learning the beats of how Gg prefers things to be edited and being able to adapt to it was a challenge I'm so extremely glad to have had. Gigi is a wonderful teacher and gives you the blunt feedback you need when it comes to editing and perfecting shots so they hit a certain pathos.

As far as moments go... it's so hard to nail one down, but I would definitely have to say the "how to draw celios" and "how to draw heephis" livestreams. The number of times I have cried laughing over hearing these characters, the people behind them, my closest friends, have such genuine fun, laugh with one another, and tease each other... it's something I'll never forget in a million years.

Sorry this got so long, but this AU has genuinely impacted me in such a way that I felt it warranted such. Thank you all for being fans of this series, Gigi has truly made something incredible. ♥

[rocknvaughn]

Hello, I have recently discovered the bbc show Merlin, and subsequently the actor Colin Morgan. Your blog has so much valuable material that I still keep discovering (I'm new to tumblr and don't really know how to navigate etc.)

You seem to be an expert on Colin Morgan questions. So I would like to ask how would one search for his future stage performances? I would love to see him perform on stage, which wouldn't be easy for me of course - I am U.S. based. So far I wasn't able to find anything scheduled for him to perform on stage.

It seems that his past play recordings aren't readily available to watch online either, or maybe they don't exist. This would be my second question - are there any recordings of the plays he was in, and where to find them?

Thank you so much for your time and expertise!

Hi!

I'm not sure how old this message is as I am not on Tumblr that much these days. So if it's been awhile, I'm sorry! I'm glad you've found my account a useful source of Colin info! 😊

Searching for Colin information in general has always been an uphill battle. Colin has no interest in promoting himself, so nearly always does news come from different sources: co-stars who post about a project, or a news article about a project and his name is attached. Sometimes we only find out about work he's done after it's released! (I'm also US-based, which certainly makes searching more difficult!)

Admittedly, I am not following his career moves as closely as I once did, but he's not done a play since 2020. For a while, he was doing a play about once a year, but then COVID happened and he's not done one since. He's always said that he loves the theatre, but he also loathes the stage door and avoids it like the plague (this second part isn't something he's said, but it's very clear based on his behaviour). It makes me wonder whether that avoidance has gotten to the point where the bad outweighs the good for him (though I hope that's not the case because he's a phenomenal stage actor!).

All I used to do was follow sites that would post about upcoming London stage news and sign up to be on the mailing lists of the larger theatres (and Google search a couple of times a week lol).

As for plays he did that have recordings:

The Tempest (2013) - Can be found at Shakespeare's Globe On Screen, Drama Online, or you can purchase the DVD.

Translations (2018) - Can be found on Drama Online, or if you ever get to London, you can visit the National Theatre Archive and watch it there.

All My Sons (2019) - Can be found on National Theatre at Home.

Hope this helps! ❤️

[rosieposiepie]

Buffy The Vampire Slayer Tarot Deck Review: Major Arcana

A year after I pre-ordered it and five months after it was supposed to ship, I finally have my hands on the Official Buffy The Vampire Slayer Tarot Deck! I'll post five reviews, this one for the major arcana and four more, one for each suite (Stakes, Scythes, Chalices, and Pentacles).

I'll do my best to provide images of every card and copy down relevant snippets from the guidebook. I'll also be comparing the iconography and description of each card with more classic, established tarot meanings, most of which will probably be influenced by the decks I actively use and read off of, but I did do some outside research for other decks and their guidebooks. Obviously, Tarot is very subjective and most of this is my opinion. If my nerdy geeking out about Tarot at all interests you, the full review is under the read more.

0: The Fool

The Fool Card is Xander because, of course, it is. Season One Xander as well, based on his colorful shirt. This is very much inspired by the Rider-Waite imagery of the fool about to take a misstep and tumble into the unknown. Both because it represents Xander at the beginning of his journey and literally depicts him about to step into an open grave. The Fool represents the beginning of a journey or the path to personal development, both apt for this early Xander. The guidebook explanation for the fool upright is pretty consistent with my past experience in tarot. It differs for the reverse. Reversed Fool usually indicates, in my experience, immaturity or being in a state of needing that journey and emotional growth. The negative side of being a fool, so to speak. Which I personally think could apply to early Xander. But the guidebook says Reversed Fool represents a need for caution or that there's danger ahead. I kind of think Reversed Fool means the opposite; it means you need to go on a journey (while Upright Fool signifies you are already on that journey). I still think Xander is a great choice for this card, though.

I: The Magician

The Magician is a Season 3-esque Willow in the middle of her Wicca phase, happily performing a ritual. Again heavy inspiration from RW tarot iconography, particularly with the lemniscate (infinity). In my experience, Upright Magician signifies limitless potential, and the card itself can mean many things in context (creativity, self-confidence, ambition, opportunity) depending on the reading. The BTVS guidebook is more narrow, speaking about motivations and goals and "conducting oneself mindfully," which works for Willow in context. Still, I'm not sure is always so applicable to The Magician. The Magician Reversed in the guidebook, however, is pretty consistent with traditional interpretations. It means that there is an obstacle and highlights the importance of self-reflection to discover the best path forward.

II: The High Priestess

It's Tara, duh. I'm really glad I agree with this deck's authors that so many of these character archetypes fit. Again, a lot of RW iconography with the pomegranates and the hat. The crystals and the cameo from Miss Kitty are a nice touch, too, to make this card more Tara. The upright explanation is pretty on par with what I'm used to - mystery, spirituality, wisdom, etc. The reverse is more specific for Tara, who speaks about her family and how she lets the opinions of others be an obstacle. Again, that's a very specific reading for Reversed Priestess. I usually like a more general interpretation that there's some kind of conflict between your personal life and your work toward enlightenment; it could be your friends or family. Still, it could also be some personal flaw or your job or finances. So the "just be yourself!" advice that the guidebook implies for Reversed Priestess is not always applicable, in my opinion.

III: The Empress

It's Drusilla, you guys!!! Traditionally The Empress card is painted as whoever the current queen was (usually to avoid religious persecution in Renaissance Europe), so I feel like Drusilla is apt because she is The Queen in my heart. She represents the divine feminine and also mother nature (kind of ironic for a woman who whatever she puts in the ground withers and dies). But I actually like it. Mother nature is known for her unpredictability, capable of fertility and destruction in equal measure. And I feel like that is apt for Dru. Upright Empress is the nurturing side of mother nature, and Reversed Empress is the destructive side. This is why it's a little strange to me that the BTVS guidebook says Upright Drusilla is both, and Reversed Drusilla means... you need self-care?

IV: The Emperor

BUFFY ANNE SUMMERS ON A THRONE LIKE SHE DESERVES. It's also really interesting to me that so many people have written fantastic media analyses about how the slayer represents masculinity, and Buffy's struggle with it can be a metaphor for queerness. And now, they give Buffy the card that represents divine masculinity (I know not everyone vibes with the gender essentialism in traditional tarot, and I try to ignore that, too, but the Emperor is one card where I can't ignore it). Also, Buffsilla nation, rise! As for the analysis, the Emperor is the leader, representing cosmic enlightenment and ultimate power, which definitely works for Buffy. The Upright in the guidebook favors this interpretation, but the Reversed explanation is a little odd to me. My experience is the reversed Emperor is the downside of power and is a warning about arrogance and advice for humility. The Buffy Guidebook says the opposite, interpreting Reversed Emperor as being in a position without power and encouraging someone to fight back and stay true to their convictions. It works in the context of Buffy's character, and I don't necessarily dislike that reading, but I'm not familiar with it in my understanding of Tarot.

V: The Hierophant

The Hierophant represents practical lessons, the study of natural law, and the search for knowledge, which fits this face, Rupert Giles. The iconography for the Hierophant is based on Melchezidek and Rabbinic teachings and passing down knowledge. Admittedly, I can't speak to the cultural context of that, but I think Giles fits fairly well for the general interpretations. This is actually the best card so far in my agreement with the guidebook. The Reversed Giles is basically Ripper, according to the guidebook, and Reversed Hierophant usually represents rebellion and ignoring tradition, so I think it fits perfectly.

VI: The Lovers

I am SO RELIEVED that this card is Tara/Willow. First of all, I'm so happy to see my favorite Lesbians in an archetypal role usually given to Adam and Eve. Secondly, it fits so well with what I interpret The Lovers to represent (no hate for the other relationships but metaphorically, none fit better than this one). I never consider it a purely romantic card but rather the struggle of choice. Choosing pleasure and happiness over other things like spiritual enlightenment or social acceptance, which I believe perfectly encapsulates their relationship. The reverse usually means resistance, resentment, and division. The guidebook agrees with my interpretation pretty consistently for The Lovers and does a great job putting a Tillow spin on the explanation.

VII: The Chariot.

It's Cordelia! Traditionally the Chariot Represents a victorious hero being paraded through the streets in triumph. It signifies a warrior and represents empowerment and achievement. I think Cordelia is a perfect choice for this one! Her journey in BTVS seasons 1-3 is from becoming a spoiled mean girl to a seasoned hero in her own right, a journey that only expands in ATS (seasons 4-5 didn't happen, fight me). The reversed chariot is a call to action, a reminder to move forward and overcome. The guidebook also agrees with me here, although it uses some strange wording to do so, including "inner Cry-Buffy" and"spank your inner moppet." I know they're references, but it can get a little awkward.

VIII: Strength

Dawn Summers, I love you! And I love this card! Strength is usually depicted by a woman taming a lion, representing the ability to control and refine what is considered indomitable and wild. Therefore, it's rarely a card of physical strength, but rather mental/emotional/spiritual strength, and indicates a strong will above all else. I love this for Dawn, and I feel it can be particularly apt in the context she's an uncontrollable thing (the Key) refined in human form. Strength reversal is more of an inability to access those traits, either via a position of powerlessness or internally lacking the will or spiritual strength to achieve your goals. The guidebook, for the most part, agrees with my upright interpretation ("Like Dawn, you are extraordinary," so true, guidebook) but says the reverse is an omen of impending doom, which again just is a little off, in my opinion. I feel like any time you imply a tarot card has an absolute objective meaning about the future, especially, you're in dangerous Tarot-tory.

IX: The Hermit

It's Oz, my beloved! Right off the bat, it does lean into some of the traditional imagery here again, with a streetlamp instead of a lantern. One thing that is Oz-specific is the large full moon in the background and the cool electric guitar. The Hermit card is all about the journey to enlightenment and self-reflection, and introspection in general. Sometimes it means the need for solitude and letting go of worldly attachments to best facilitate that journey. Kind of perfect for Oz, right? The Reverse, then, is resistance to this journey, whether it's a personal unwillingness or worldly attachments getting in the way. All of that, by the way, the guidebook is pretty consistent. I think the only interpretation of Reversed Hermit I've seen that wasn't included is when self-imposed isolation and solitude are actually an escape from what needs doing rather than a way to facilitate it.

X: The Wheel of Fortune

The Slayer Cycle and Sineya again are perfect imagery for the Wheel of Change, which represents the inevitable cycle of change. When Upright, the card signifies the height of the cycle, which is usually positive fortune, spiritual clarity, or luck. The Reversed is the depths of the cycle and is a misfortune, failure, or a lack of control. But it is also the beginning of a new cycle and can be a call to action to renew oneself or start on a new path. I'm a little conflicted about the guidebook's explanation because I like it in the context of the BTVS narrative but not so much for the archetypes and imagery of Tarot. The guidebook says that the Upright Wheel is about being trapped within your fate and needing to accept a situation that is out of your control. Reversed Wheel is about accountability, learning from the past, and breaking the cycle. I think it's fitting for BTVS and the Slayers that the Wheel of Fortune isn't inevitable and can be broken, but that's the complete opposite of what it traditionally means in Tarot. Also, I don't like how they used Hebrew lettering for the Wheel of Fortune, a la Rider-Waite, and then blocked or obscured half of the letters.

XI: Justice

Angel being the face of Justice actually works really well, in my opinion. The fundamental meaning of Justice is "karma," or the balance of actions and consequences. I think no character has this more important to their journey than Angel. I also think it's interesting the card has him holding a double-edged blade which usually means either clarity or the execution of judgment. However, the scales of balance and the crown of Solomon are printed on tombstones. It's almost like saying Angel is the hand of justice, he is on the journey toward righteousness, honor, truth, and balance, but he is not the arbitrator. Justice Reversed usually indicates falsehood, abuse, lies, or imbalance in general, which the guidebook explains as "more Angelus than Angel lately." For the most part, this card fits really well, and I'm happy about it.

XII: The Hanged Man

Spike is the Hanged Man, and it's a perfect characterization. The Hanged Man is all about a trial, awaiting judgment, and holding one's energy in meditation until a resolution comes, usually one which will bring significant change. It is also about sacrifice. Per traditional imagery, Spike is upside-down with his legs crossed in a 4 and his hands "restrained." It works really well for Spike because he is a character that embodies constant change and self-discovery, which I think later transforms into an inevitable sacrifice. Reversed Hanged Man is then more about unwillingness to change, false prophecy, useless sacrifice or an otherwise empty gesture, or self-denial. I do think this fits Spike, but I don't think I agree with the guidebook when it says Reversed Spike means you need to stop stalling and "jump into the fray." Usually, when I see Reversed Hanged Man, I give the opposite advice that this is a time for patience and not rash action.

XIII: Death

Death as a card is fundamentally about change. And not little changes, but huge, monumental changes. It's about transformation fundamentally, and classical imagery used the reaper because of his association with the Harvest and the passage of the seasons. That's why I'm not so sure I like the Gentleman who is the face of Death. Yes, they're essential "reapers" in their own way, but how in Buffy did they facilitate necessary transformative change? Taking people's voices away? I don't know. The vibes aren't there for me, metaphorically. The guidebook also struggles because it knows what the Death Card is supposed to represent - it says outright "change is coming" - but can't really connect the Gentlemen well to that meaning. It says stuff like "you need to find your voice!" which feels like a platitude. Reversed Death is about resisting change, fighting what is either inevitable or necessary. Or sometimes it can be about change not coming as soon as you want it and advises patience. Tarot can be contradictory, but for the most part, the guidebook agrees with the first interpretation about accepting change.

XIV: Temperance

The Temperance card is usually represented with water flowing between two cups to show the mixing and combination of different elements and energies. Upright, it's about synthesis, fusion, harmony, patience, moderation, and peace. It's the reconciliation of two opposite things. In reverse, it is discord, conflict, imbalance, impatience, chaos, frustration, and hostility. I think for so much of Buffy's story, especially the early seasons, Joyce was in the reversed role. She represented the conflict between Buffy's normal life and her responsibilities as the Slayer. The guidebook tries to emphasize, I think, what Joyce could have been, a harmonizing force in Buffy's life who made sure she was able to balance her "normal teenage girl stuff" with her "cosmic, stabby duties." The Reverse Joyce also advises to "channel Joyce's energy" when you get news like "your daughter is the Chosen One." And while I do think what Joyce actually did when she found out Buffy was the Chosen One works for representing Reverse Temperance (asylum, kicking her out), the guidebook seems to think Joyce was patient and steady in her reaction to that news and indicates how Reverse Joyce encourages that behavior. There's just something fundamentally off with the guidebook explanation of Joyce, in my opinion. Almost like how the card itself is a little off, considering they don't show the balance between the two cups, the fundamental iconography of the tempering in Temperance. But I do think the card archetype can work for her character. They just don't explain it well.

XV: The Devil

The Devil as Dark Willow is the perfect characterization for this archetype. The Devil represents addiction, temptation, selfish ambition, that which is taboo, and fundamentally whatever exists in our darker self or the shadow of our psyche, that which can never be truly tamed but we constantly struggle to control. That is Dark Willow. The Reverse Devil usually means the same thing, but when reversed this dark aspect is not being restrained or tamed. Therefore the card itself is a warning of the possible consequences that may come from indulging in this kind of behavior. For the most part, the guidebook is consistent with those readings of the Devil, and the explanation applies to what Dark Willow does in the story. Also, usually, The Devil and The Lovers share some reversed imagery, so I like they kept Willow on both cards as a consistent through-line.

XVI: The Tower

The Tower is the worst omen in the entire Tarot deck. It represents disaster, chaos, madness, and despair. Sometimes it can be more neutral if this disaster or upheaval is a necessary one, but even then, there's some degree of suffering. Even Reversed, it's a bad omen, representing being trapped or imprisoned or stagnation, sometimes by external forces and sometimes by an internal refusal to change. So, what better scene to represent this card than Buffy diving off of Glory's tower at the end of Season Five? The ultimate disaster is represented by the creation of a Hellgod known for creating madness and despair. And the guidebook is pretty consistent here, too, with the meanings for the card that I'm familiar with.

XVII: The Star

The Star represents connecting your soul with the divine, transcending family, community, personality, and reputation to embrace the true freedom, clarity, and insight of the celestial influences. The Star represents exalted origins and a union with a higher power. It represents the Celestial Mandate - the reason for being, the duty behind existence, and our true mission in life. Nobody better represented their dedication to their Slayer Duty than Kendra. She truly embodied that transcendence (while there was a touch of tragedy to it). I think this card is so apt to her characterization, and it's making me upset again about how quickly she was killed off. I love Faith, I do, but Kendra deserved better. Reversed, the Star is the consequence of being disconnected from your true purpose and the misfortune and disappointment that comes from that. Much like my disappointment when Kendra died. The guidebook, I think, does Kendra the discredit of not committing enough to how well the characterization fits, mostly making references to her "only shirt" and platitudes like "unleashing your inner star." But I do really like her on this card.

XVIII: The Moon

Our other Slayer, it's Faith! I've seen a few conflicting interpretations of the Moon. Still, for the most part, I like to interpret it as the veil between reality and what is imagined or mystical and the journey into the unknown and unknowable. This can mean positive things like expanded consciousness and self-discovery but also negative things like illusions, trickery, and the more terrifying aspects of traveling into the unknown. For the most part, the guidebook aligns with some of the more simplified interpretations of the Moon. Upright represents illusions and shadows that need to be overcome, and Reversed is about intuition and achieving clarity. I guess it's really hard to say, depending on the context, that a card can mean many things, even if that's the point. I do think the Moon fits Faith. She has a lot of layers to her, a conflicting sense of self-identity, and a tendency for bravado to hide a lack of confidence. She certainly undergoes quite a journey of self-discovery.

XIX: The Sun

The Sun is one of the best cards in the Tarot Deck. It is radiance, positivity, primordial goodness, truth, and beauty. It is the human incarnation of the divine, the resolution of all conflict, the ultimate accomplishment and the purest joy. Even Reversed, it traditionally has no negative meaning and is either a reminder that obstacles are temporary or that it's important to honor those who aided your success. Some guidebooks will say the Reversed Sun might indicate uncertainty, unhappiness, and doubt. The Buffy Guidebook is more consistent with the traditional interpretations, upright being an indication of "peace, positivity, and an apocalypse expertly halted" and Reversed, meaning that any obstacles are "as fleeting as a passing storm." This is the perfect moment to encapsulate The Sun, a moment of victory, the destruction of the Hellmouth, and the incandescent beauty of Spike's sacrifice, Buffy's moment of truth and confession of love.

XX: Judgement

Despite its name, the Judgement card is about healing, renewal, transformation, and reuniting all aspects of the self, so one is whole and multi-dimensional. I really prefer one of the earlier names for this card, Resurrection. Also, if you think about the Major Arcana as telling a story - the Fool being the man at the beginning of his journey and each card being an obstacle overcome or a lesson learned - then Judgement is the Fool toward the end of his journey, his complete self. I just think it's interesting because Xander is the Fool, and Anya is Judgement. And she really does fit the role, going through the major transformation in the show from an ancient Vengeance Demon to a mortal woman and learning how to heal from her past, enduring several spiritual awakenings. Even Reversed Judgement works for her, representing everything that obstructs someone from reaching this whole self, the fears of death, failure, and illness that Anya struggled with after becoming mortal again. The guidebook, again, is pretty consistent with my interpretation of this card.

XXI: The World

Like The Sun, The World is one of the truly positive cards in the Tarot deck, even reversed. It's the true conclusion to a journey, the epitome of growth, completion, perfection, fulfillment, triumph, victory, and the cosmic awakening of the immortal soul. Traditionally, the reversal has the same exact meaning, although some guidebooks try to put an inverse meaning. I think the point of The World is that it is complete and whole and therefore means the same thing no matter the perspective. The Buffy Guidebook, however, does prescribe a different meaning to the Reversed World: there's a temporary setback, and you must remain motivated, "put on your sparkliest prom dress," and persevere. I do really love Buffy with the Class Protector Award as the face of The World, however. It is a moment of considerable triumph for her and almost represents the end of her High School Journey and the fulfillment of recognition by her peers. Plus, it's one of the best moments in the show.

My Final Thoughts:

So far, I really like all of the chosen characters/faces for the cards, with the exception of Death. My problem is mostly with the guidebook and how it oversimplifies Tarot. They clearly looked at a Rider-Waite deck because of the heavy inspirations in imagery. Still, based on some of the missing elements, they probably didn't do that much research into the history or meaning of those images. However, whoever the artist did a great job, I think, with the deck. I think the guidebook is clearly designed for people with limited Tarot experience and was written by people who don't practice, so a bit of the nuance is missing. Also, usually, I love cringy, campy stuff. However, some of the explanations try to shoehorn in as many BTVS references as possible rather than try to give a coherent explanation. So, I love the cards, and the guidebook is kind of take it or leave it.

[knight-intraining]

So I'd recently come out to my extended family (Dad's side) which was a big deal. I'd been putting it off for a long time, I chickened out when I got the chance 2 years ago.

And they're all conservative Christians (like the Fox news redpilled about 30 degrees from being far right kind).

Recently my aunt (Mom's side) came to visit for my birthday and she hid a very hurtful "gift" with the other gifts that of course I didn't discover until after she left (as she meant for it to happen).

So I was worried. Because this aunt is less extreme than my dad's side, or so I thought.

But! It went really well!! And I just felt SO secure in myself. I can not put into words how good it felt to finally be my authentic self with them.

It was weird to realize how far I've come in my self confidence and self-assuredness that like this is who I am and you're not changing it and if you don't like it - fuck you.

I didn't realize how much I'd grown in terms of independence and feeling secure. That I could have told off anyone who said something nasty, that I could have stood up for myself or others in the face of mistreatment. That I'm no longer living my life just to avoid being yelled at (!!!!!!)

Like, just a couple of years ago I felt myself shrinking around them, folding in on myself, didn't feel like I could stand toe to toe with them. And I've never been able to voice my own opinion about their nonsense.

But it was different! I was able to stand tall and go toe to toe and voice my opinion! I didn't feel the pressure to stay silent and in fact felt pressure to say something!

I felt like my own person, not just my dad's daughter.

I'm just really happy, it went really well and I'm really glad I went

[kureis-writing-hell]

YOU AND HIM - Pre-Canon Chisaki Kai x Masc!Reader

I did not think I will finish this today. I need to go to work. H.

Rating: M, Minors DNI. Nothing explixit happens but it got a sexual undertone. The reader is a hero, masc but GN. You're thinking about how you met Kai and what your relationship with him looks like.

It's my first work of this kind and tbh I'm gonna do more!

You're Kai's personal annoyance for years now. How? Why? You ask this yourself every day.

Nah, that's a joke. You're just this good in bed!

There are two ways to put Chisaki Kai in the mood and you have mastered both of them.

Honestly, it wasn't easy. You had to get close to Chisaki first, which was basically impossible. He always had that guard dog Kurono around himself back then. But you're stubborn, especially when you want something. Or someone. And if said someone had a pretty face, fluffy hair, long lashes and golden eyes you would do anything to get them for yourself.

You guess Chisaki saw a good business in you when you finally managed to corner him. He's a good head shorter than you but you can clearly remember how calm he looked back then. He was perfectly sure that you couldn't even touch him, and you knew why. You did your homework. You knew to avoid those deadly palms.

He thought he was getting an errand boy back then. A street rat who could do some dirty job for him, while he stayed behind, clean and pristine. It was a few years ago after all, Chisaki was still trying to find his place in Shie Hassaikai. He thought he's the most intelligent guy in the world too. Oh how good he looked when he found out that the truth was quite the opposite!

You played his game for a little bit. You knew you had to, otherwise you wouldn't be able to learn more about him. You discovered how much he hated quirks. You tried to figure out how far you could push him too. Despite him thinking that you worked for him, he allowed a lot, as if nothing ever could get to him. But oh, you could be annoying, back then and nowadays. It's an art you mastered perfectly.

Today you think that Chisaki underestimated you since the first day you two met. The overconfident prick disregarded you, your quirk and anything tied to you, that's why he didn't run a simple background check. It was a basic mistake, Chisaki was still learning, still couldn't figure people out that well and he was too sure everyone would follow him to be cautious. You're very glad you were the person who taught him that lesson. It's something you would never admit out loud but you wouldn't want him to get betrayed by someone worse than you.

Which you did, you guess, back then. You had your fun with Chisaki for two months then, you got under his skin constantly but slowly learned your ways around his mysophobia and aversion to quirks and other people. It was going well. You could see that Chisaki was starting to trust you. And then that annoying guard dog Kurono made his own move.

He found out, and told Chisaki, that you're a hero.

A big no no for Chisaki and you knew that. You two even fought. It was something you'd rather avoid because you knew how good Chisaki was and how temperamental he was (is) and you'd rather avoid dying. He still had a lot to learn and you were good too though. You pinned him on the ground, hands above his head and managed to hold his glare. He couldn't even hide the betrayal back then and you guess that's what pulls you towards him. For someone who wants to make yakuza great again he's certainly too naive.

You left back then, to give him a bit of space. You focused on your hero work. Except for a few petty crimes and some fights Chisaki didn't do any real harm to people, he didn't even like to use his quirk when it wasn't necessary, so you saw no point in reporting him. You still wouldn't, but for fairly different reasons.

First time you two kissed was when you met the next time. It was an unexpected meeting. You were running around on your daily patrol when you saw Chisaki, together with Kurono and some blonde new guy with glasses walk out of a shop. You stopped and glared, wondering about the new guy, and you're still pretty touchy about Shin. Chisaki saw you, at first disregarded you as some annoying hero and then obviously caught up on who's standing there.

Kurono started barking around, wanting to protect his boss like a good guard dog, but Chisaki sent him and Shin away. You were surprised that he wanted to talk. He was obviously angry when he was leading you into a more secluded alley. He kept ranting about honestly everything, keeping you confused until he focused on you again.

You're still not sure what pushed you to kiss him. Maybe you were aware that nothing could make this situation worse, so you tried to take all you could. Maybe you saw something in his cold eyes. Who knows. But you still grabbed him when he paused his rant and pressed your lips to his.

One thing you forgot at the time was his mask. You ended up kissing him through the cloth. And at the moment you thought you really will die.

Chisaki made the most adorable, surprised sound, then seemed to relax just for a few seconds before pushing you away. He immediately threw his mask off, gagged, then looked at you incredulously. What an amazing reaction to being kissed, huh?

"At least it's out of the way now," you half joked then. Then, before his dumbstruck brain could catch up you proposed a date. And then, not waiting for him to reject you, you tossed him time and place and left the alley.

He showed up - or rather waited for you to show up. It was a disaster. And your last official date.

It was also just the start of your mutual story. Chisaki still refuses to ‘date’ you, but he’s happy to moan under you every time you come around. He won’t go to a restaurant with you anymore, but, sometimes, will eat take out with you and watch a bad movie on your TV and then cuddle with you while asleep even though he refuses to admit it in the morning.

Which takes you to the substance. Putting Chisaki Kai in the mood.

Back on that date you discovered he loves to be pampered. Nothing makes him melt into your arms as well as a scalp massage, or soft praises or kisses on his neck. Neck and ear especially. He will blush like a tomato, huff at any remark about it and then lean just slightly against you, so you could continue. And he’s very… sincere in those moments. You love it. He could be a scary street thug daily, with his gang and impossible quirk, but in your hands he’s just another young adult, chasing pleasure. And he is still getting better and better for you. Bareilly a few months ago, when you were especially mushy and sweet with him, he rewarded you with riding your dick for a good portion of the night.

And oh, how beautiful he was. Muscles moving, body shaking, the little jolts and moans he made. You still can’t think about it in public.

Now, the other way to get him to spread his legs for you is a bit tricky.

Chisaki is proud. Always was. He’s often stressed and his untreated mysophobia doesn’t help. And you got a very bad, even rotten tongue. And you’re a hero! The list of your crimes against Chisaki goes on and on and so it’s very easy for you to piss him off.

It’s not that you do that intentionally too. You just tease, and you do that naturally. Then he gets mad. And then you have to act fast if you don’t want to end the night alone with a box of tissues.

You found out that side of Chisaki when you two had one of your fights. He was angry already when you showed up, in one of your secret meeting love hotels - his least favorite one. His mysophobia was acting up but he refused to tell you what happened. He was being difficult, you got annoyed, you two started arguing. It quickly shifted to some sparring and you already knew this night he will leave you alone. Then, you pinned him to the carpeted floor, right by the bed, face to the floor. You started saying some angry blabber but then noticed he wasn’t listening to you. Stopped fighting even. His eyes were focused on something under the bed, his face was pale, and you quickly checked what it was.

An used condom.

Assuming Chisaki would start puking in a second - you considered it yourself - you let him go and lifted him from the floor. The frustration was gone, you started worrying now, until you saw the tent in his pants.

How? You still wonder oh so often. Chisaki that you knew would throw a tantrum and burn the place to the ground, but it didn’t happen. Chisaki kept refusing to address the topic. You were curious but fine with it. After all, it opened a new door for you.

He loves filthy sex. There's not always a time and place for it, but when he's difficult, or when you say two words too much, you can always easily turn it sexual. You still keep testing the boundaries. For example spitting in his mouth while he fights against it makes his dick twitch and ooze precum. But talking about piss turns him off. This side of his sexuality makes him so perfectly ashamed too. He always complains about it, always refuses and fights but always lets you do your thing. And he never overhauled you before, either. Not when you made him lick your shoes, not when you pushed your cum-covered fingers into his mouth.

There’s no safe words between you two, after all. Only the risk of dying every time you push his boundaries and god, does it rile you up!

When you first saw Chisaki Kai you thought that he’s going to be a fun, little side toy. Inexperienced and vanilla. He was barely twenty then, after all. Now? Now you’re invested and excited and protective over him even.

And you fear that if he knew that, he would really overhaul you for good.

[ramonag-if]

I loved chapter 6 😍. Dear author the emotional trauma was chef’s kiss 😚👌

My opinion on Salyra has not changed but worsted lmao 🤣 . That being said I don’t doubt Salyra loves the MC in her own complicated way, but the path to hell is paved with good intentions 👀, and there is so much that a person can endure and forgive… You have build a really interesting character and the fact that there’re so different responses to Salyra speak well of your writing.

I was expecting the reveal about Erlan and the probable role Salyra had in it, but the implication on why she had the MC hit in the feels. Poor MC when they will discover the secret Salyra is trying to keep. I love how Salyra only followed them to avoid her old friend to spill the beans 😂.

On the other hand i can forgive Ahlf’s role in chapter 5 angst, he was only trying to protect the MC, and my MC would have reacted the same way (like father like daughter much to Salyra’s chagrin 🤣). Maybe it is because i read Ahlf’s side story? Or maybe because his secrecy seems to be propelled by a wish to protect, while Salyra seems to act in fear of the MC’s reaction? 🤔

Now I have a doubt: was Salyra truly the fugitive she believed to be? We already know that Erlan wasn’t a threat to the MC or the vinian family, so it is not hard to believe that he wasn’t so obsessed in finding her outside of Ishari. I mean I don’t doubt Erlan would have danced on her grave if in the war effort she ended up dead, but going to the lengths of finding her for years outside of Ishari… 👀

I'm so glad you enjoyed Chapter 6! 😊💖 I tried my best to make things about the MC and dealing with the aftermath of Chapter 5's events so I'm happy the emotional trauma hit the mark 😅

Salyra is a complicated character and I never wanted her to be this perfect mother who swoops in to save the day, after the MC had to live with Ahlf for so long 😅

Erlan's death is going to come up in Part 3, because I wanted to focus on the main plot points for this chapter and to foreshadow the MC's reason for being born 👀 Salyra did not follow the gang to meet Sangasu - she had already been planning to head there but didn't think the MC would have gone too 😂

Ahlf did try his best to protect the MC and by part 3, you will get to learn more about his role in the whole Salyra/MC relationship 👀 the side story does explain a little about how it started, but there is a lot more that still has to be explained.

She was for a long time on the run, but with age, Erlan grew more reluctantly to continue fighting a battle he seemed unable to win so he lost interest after some time. Whether or not Salyra was really being sought by Erlan is a matter of perspective 😅😬

Thanks for playing and for your support! 💖

[floof-ghostie]

Gimme the rundown on your trisona!!

I'm glad you asked! Solaris has a lot of lore to them, which includes their backstory, what they do for a living, and meeting Vash!

Okay so:

Solaris Peverett grew up in a town that was very very closed off and not exactly a welcoming place for those who are "different". They weren't treated well at home, didn't have any friends, AND they realised they were agender in a town that was very conservative (highly unusual, as most of Gunsmoke is pretty accepting of that sort of thing). This all culminates in them running away at the age of 13, which in hindsight was a very stupid idea, as the town was a good week's walk away from the nearest Plant, and Solaris packed like. three days' worth of provisions. Plus, they had no plans on what to do when actually getting to the Plant. To top it all off, they lost all of their food on the second day after nearly getting attacked by a sandworm.

A group of bandits ended up finding them on the fourth day, and after much deliberation on what to do about them (options ranged from killing, to robbing then killing, to holding them for ransom), and after Sola begged them to not take them back to their town, their leader (a very old lady, and mother to 5 of them) opted to just take Solaris in, and treat them like a member of the family to avoid trouble. So for 6 years, Sola travelled with the family, and learned from Granny to crochet and knit. They discovered many old crashed ships, and abandoned towns and villages. They also ended up making a name for themself, and earned a lot of respect from other scavengers and bandits for their skills (slipping into small spaces, being patient enough to cut big pieces free from fallen ships).

When they were 18, Solaris ended up returning to their hometown with the group, only to find the place deserted. Upon further investigation, they found out that the plant was long gone, and that there were several old corpses lying around. While they didn't really care about what happened to the townspeople, Sola was still surprised and uneasy. Swallowing their shock, they assisted in pillaging the town, and they never went back. They couldn't sleep that night.

At 19, Solaris decided that they wanted to settle down and have a more stable living situation, so they found a small house, complete with a small ranch on the outskirts of a small town called Midmay. They arrange frequent trips to scavenging locations, and generally keep to themself, and don't talk much. The villagers don't like or trust Solaris; they don't like newcomers, as most of the people living there have been there for generations (with some families being directly descended from the crew from Project SEEDS), whereas Sola has only just moved in. Sola is often referred to by the townspeople as "Sola the Bandit".

When Sola is not scavenging, or doing chores around the house, they can be found knitting or crocheting out on their front porch. They have an entire savings for yarn and other crafting supplies.

How they met Vash under the cut:

The story of how Vash and Sola met is a really funny one. At 22, Sola was examining the wreckage of a ship one day, when they heard a loud commotion on the other side. They walked in on a group of bandits and bounty hunters that they knew, tying Vash up, and bragging that they were going to be rich (Vash's bounty is 60 billion double dollars, so it's not like they were lying). Vash wasn't doing much to fight back, and was failing miserably in defusing the situation.

Solaris took pity on Vash (and would later say that he looked so pathetic, that they had to step in), and lied to the bandits, saying that they had made a mistake, and that the man that they captured was not actually Vash the Stampede.

Solaris: I can tell you right now that that's not Vash the Stampede

Bandit #1: What do you mean "That's not Vash", he's got the red coat and everything!

Solaris: That's exactly the problem *points at Vash* That coat is mauve, not red.

The Bandits:

Surprisingly it works, and the bandits end up leaving.

Anyways, after that, Sola invites Vash to stay at their house for a while, and warns him that the people living in Midmay aren't very welcoming to strangers. The inn is very overpriced, and Sola is willing to let Vash room with them for free until he gets back on his feet.

They also end up saving the town later on from some bandits, but that's a story for another day.

Hope you enjoyed!!

[itwoodbeprefect]

Re the tag game: H50, all of them #25? Also I'm not sure if I'm allowed to ask twice but I wouldn't object to hearing more about Our Mr. Wilson!

thank you for your mercy in crossing out “all of them”, because i think i’d have to skip sleep tonight to get that done. :p but two is absolutely okay!

-

Danny Williams and the Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Neighborhood Barbecue

this is a recent addition to the WIP pile! it’s a post-canon fic in which (obviously) danny still lives with steve, when he discovers that steve barely knows his neighbors. so they throw a barbecue to get to know them better, and then (also obviously) it turns out that all their neighbors think they're a couple. everyone keeps making nice comments to danny about it (“how did you meet?” “your boyfriend is good at the grill, but your pasta salad is my favorite!” “oh, i'm glad to see you finally took the step and moved in - i used to see your car here all the time.” “you guys have adorable kids!” etc.) and danny keeps having to explain that yes, they’re partners, yes, they live together, yes, steve is basically raising his kids with him, but not like that, while every new neighbor he meets has the wrong idea all over again and steve seems oddly chill about it. cue eventual confrontation in the privacy of their kitchen, of course, where danny figures out that maybe steve is chill about it for a reason.

these are the first four paragraphs:

The worst of it is that it’s his own fault, and nobody else’s. While walking Eddie down the street, more to stretch his own legs than because the dog needs any more outdoor time considering all the people it lives with that go for daily jogs (which is two, but that’s plenty), Danny sees the neighbor from three doors down watering plants in her front yard. He stops for a friendly little chat, the way people sometimes do if they’ve been decently socialized through the virtue of having an upbringing in which none of their parents faked their death.

When he and Eddie get back home, he crosses paths with Steve in the kitchen, and when he tells Steve he just talked to Mrs. Hernandez about flowers that look pretty but don’t require too much upkeep, Steve says, “Who?”

Which is how Danny learns that Steve, a man who has lived in this very house for most of the years he’s been alive and also loves not only prying into other people’s business but having all of the facts in every possible situation, doesn’t know most of his own neighbors’ names. “How is that even possible?” Danny asks, at the end of a little rant about how stupid that is, which Steve bears alternately with patience and mildly hurt personal pride. “How have you never once thrown a big barbecue to at least know who’s supposed to be walking around on your street?”

“Huh,” Steve says, like he’s pleasantly surprised by the practicality of that suggestion. Danny is fully ready to take that the wrong way and rant a little more, when Steve cuts him off by pulling a notepad and a pen from a kitchen drawer and asking, “Can you make that macaroni salad you do, but bigger?”

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Our Dear Mr. Wilson’s Guide To Becoming A Successful Contributing Member Of A Team Of Internationally Renowned High-Tech Do-Gooder Criminals

ooh, i’ve had a lot of fun with this one so far! but it’s also specifically early season 1 leverage redemption fic, so it’s fallen by the wayside a bit after it didn’t get finished fast enough and canon had moved past the point where this idea was immediately relevant. it’s essentially a harry POV numbered list describing what (not) to do when dealing with the leverage team - stuff like don’t anger the guy who used to be a hitman (but definitely don’t anger any of the others, because that’s worse), avoid any performance of sophie’s that’s not related to a con, don’t get between breanna and gummy bears.

here’s a chunk of “don’t try to ask which of your new partners in crime are partners with which other partners in crime”:

“So what’s the deal with Hardison and Parker?”

“What deal?”

“Nothing. Just, I get the impression that you and Parker…”

Eliot does not take the obvious invitation to fill in the gap. He just raises his eyebrows, at once vaguely threatening and threateningly vague.

Harry soldiers on. “And when Hardison was still here, it seemed like you and him were also- Also close.”

Eliot rumbles. It’s unclear if it’s in agreement. “Why? Are you trying to figure out if I’m single? I’m being hit on. Is that what’s happening here?”

Not only can Harry not figure out if Eliot is serious or not, he’s also completely unsure if that undertone of a growl is base level grump, an expression of mutual interest, or rising homicidal rage. Harry smiles. “Never mind,” he says, and beats a hasty retreat.

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send me the title of one of my WIPs and i'll tell you something about it or post a snippet!

[celestemagnoliathewriter]

Just wanted to say that I love the artwork of Teddy and Hope. Also, how did you come up with Teddy’s sister?

I haven’t read your story yet but once I get some free time I’ll definitely check it out. I know that I’ll love it, I’m glad to have discovered your writing 😍😍

Also, if I may add my name is Hope and it got me excited to see that name as a character that you are writing about. 🥹🥹

Well, thank you, Hope and I hope that if/when you read Cariad, which features Hope more prominently, you'll enjoy it! I'm also glad you liked the art :)

I'd love to tell you about Miss Hope Lupin (the second). Per Remus's bio page on wizarding world, his mother was called Hope Howell (get it? HOWL? As if Werewolf McWerewolf wasn't enough for Remus, lol). As a lot of the characters in the HP universe seem to name their kids after dead people, Hope's name was easy, but I do like that name for the Lupins' daughter, because like Bill and Fleur's Victoire, it shows something brighter for the future.

This is an AU story, and below I've got some mild spoilers, but nothing that should give away the whole story:

In Collide and Cariad, I gave the Lupins four children. I like giving Remus a whole brood of kiddos whenever I can. Dad!Remus is one of the best things. To tell you about Hope, I will also tell you about Teddy.

In Cariad, I wanted the Lupins to have a daughter after Teddy. She comes 3 years later, and when she does arrive, she's inherited some of her dad's lycanthropic tendencies. In chapter 25, Daughter, I explain how this works. She's not a werewolf, but she's like Bill, where she's got some symptoms and it's chronic. I liken it to a mild form of anemia and chronic fatigue. As a result, Hope is born smaller than expected and will always be small for her age. Physically she's not as big or strong, but she's bright and determined.

I have her look a lot like Tonks, without the morphing. I intentionally made Hope an 'average' witch, in that she's not a Metamorphmagus. This creates an interesting dynamic for her in the family, as she doesn't have anything especially unique about her; Tonks and Teddy are Metamorphmagi and Remus is a werewolf. Not that Hope wants to be a werewolf, but she's the second child in a family where there are many expectations. Tonks is a celebrated, talented Auror. Remus is a decorated war hero. Teddy gets the brunt of this because he's the firstborn, the oldest, and he deals with prejudices very early in his childhood, which later impact his view of the world. He understands, from an early age, that he's got a lot to live up to, and even worse, with his dad as a werewolf, he's very aware he's got to be on his best behavior to avoid any scandal.

Hope doesn't quite get that message. She instead sees a near-perfect older brother, two incredibly talented parents, and then she's just...her. She's a little sickly, a bit small, but clever and stubborn. She gets the feeling early in life that she's going to be just as talented as the rest of her family, even if it's hard.

She later becomes an older sister to twins. That makes her a middle child, and in doing so, she begins shouldering some of the same 'older sibling' responsibilities that Teddy has, but she's now a middle child who longs to stand out. Her younger brother, Alex, will suffer a similar feeling, as the other twin, Minnie, is also a Metamorphmagus and will easily stand out for that trait.

Hope is motivated by love of her family, desire to prove herself worthy and strong, and dismay that the world isn't as cheerful as she once believed. Teddy learned early on that the world wasn't fair and he was a good brother, hiding Hope from it as much as he could. But Hope does learn, accidentally and purposefully, that werewolves aren't always welcomed, her parents are flawed, and she's just one small witch in a bigger world.

She's stubborn, determined, and while she takes after her mother in looks, she's an extraverted version of Remus. Meanwhile, Teddy is an more reserved, introverted version of Tonks. Hope gets the extraversion from her mother, Teddy gets the introversion from his father. As a result, Hope will be a Gryffindor, because while Teddy is brave, he is above all loyal to his family, extremely hardworking, and perfectionistic. Hope is all these things, but with the distinction that she is more daring and willing to take risks that Teddy wouldn't.

In Collide, I gave her the pairing of Frank Longbottom, the son of Neville, but I've been thinking of changing that in Cariad. I haven't decided yet. Either way, I do plan on having her become an Auror, because like her mother, she wants to make the world a better place. Teddy will be a Healer.

[rjalker]

I started highlighting and then I just had to keep highlighting.

There is so much going on here but first of all I hope this weyrwoman dies for abusing children.

But Tana neatly demolished his disbelief when she pinpointed yet another festering puncture wound in the arm of a weyrchild who kept complaining that his arm hurt. The headwoman had been sure it was an attempt to avoid his chores. Tana not only was correct about the infection but she touched her nose on exactly the point which the skeptical Persellan was to poultice.

The next morning the infection had come to a head and in it could clearly be seen the needle fine thorn which caused the problem.

Thorns from a variety of vegetation on the Southern continent were a constant problem to the healers. Most people wore little in the hot summers so there was more bare flesh which could be invaded by a casual brush against leaves and plants. Even tough dragon hide was not impervious to the problem though the protective layer just under the skin was rarely penetrated.

More often it was the rider, scrubbing his dragon, who found a thorn imbedding itself in a water-soaked hand.

Uh the rest is under a read more with a trigger warning for what I assume is...uterine cancer? Or something???

I'm glad they at least have AIVAS to ask about the proper procedure to perform because it is not fair to ask a dolphin to know how to perform a surgery from 2,500+ years ago. And like, she literally should not have this information at all but Anne McCaffrey is terrible at writing so whatever.

Not by any means thoroughly convinced of this method of ascertaining pregnancy, Persellan did bring women in various stages of a known pregnancy to test Tana and other members of her pod who seemed eager to prove their abilities. It was, however, a broken bone that persuaded Persellan. A broken bone, moreover, that had healed badly just below the elbow, inhibiting the free use of her right arm. The woman had come to discover if she was pregnant again, a condition she didn’t wish to continue since she considered that three children were more than enough to saddle the Weyr with.

“Bone broke. Healed wrong,” Tana told Persellan. “Here.”

“What about a baby, fish?” the woman demanded even as Persellan seized her arm, his trained hands finding the thickened joint. “I’ve had no bleeding in two months.”

“How long ago did that happen?” Durras jerked her arm out of his grip, scowling at the Healer.

“I didn’t come about the arm. I was a child when it broke. Fish, what about the baby?”

“No babbee, but full womb. Not good. Needs cleaning out.”

“WHAT?” The woman backed out of the water and ran up the sands and away from the diagnostician.

“What do you mean? Full womb? Needs cleaning out?” Persellan asked. He had been startled by Durras’ reaction but, in his long apprenticeship, there had been not infrequent occasions of interrupted flows where the patient had later had severe and constant abdominal pains and several instances where the woman had died: where only heavy doses of numbweed had eased the resultant pain.

“Growwwwsse,” Tana said, trying to enunciate a difficult word. “Bad things.”

“Growths?” Persellan asked. Intrusive surgeries were not a facet of healing, though he now knew that specially trained healers were actually cutting into a human body to relieve some conditions. Aivas had had much to tell the Healer Hall but very few had actually undertaken operations. He’d heard that the Hall had authorized after-death examinations. Even thinking about such intrusions made him shudder but valuable information had resulted. “Did the Ancients cut into a body to remove growths?”

“No need. Opening is there. Clean out. Then have babbee.”

“How? What opening?”

“Main one down below. Way babbee comes.”

Persellan shuddered again. The very idea of entering by that passage was repugnant. Still, a healer was often required to perform measures unpleasant, and even hurtful to the patient, to restore health.