#im not trying to be relevant again but LOOK at them

[lucabyte]

even dogs pass the mirror test

[hundredowls]

silly oc doodle..... ballroom yuri

[clovernoir]

I am gonna be mad about that for a long while

[arolesbianism]

Ok I know I said Joshua is the only oni character I have backstory hcs for but that was a lie I forgot abt argumentive baby Olivia hcs. Lil baby Olivia having the favorite hobbys of going "um actually" and "nuh uh" everytime anyone says anything ever. The local church hates her! Tiny child unable to not be an atheist for even a moment

[cckaisen]

୨ৎ˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 𝓑𝓡𝓞𝓣𝓗𝓔𝓡 𝓕𝓤𝓒𝓚𝓔𝓡, sukuna ryomen !

boyfriend’s older brother!sukuna. while little bro yuji spits up his liquor in the bathroom, sukuna takes care of his girl, finally fucking her like she deserves.

ಇ. summary. sukuna brother au, fem reader, infidelity, yuji throws up so emeto. warning, manipulation, pussy slapping, biting, some predator/prey elements, size kink, dumbification, squirting, reader is intoxicated but aware, rough kuna but he switches up:3, regret/moral conflict, angst towards the end cuz ‘m a certified yapper. wc, 4.6k.

ಇ. note. been a whore for sukuna lately but i fully blame gege for drawing him so majestic. if evil then why gorgeous, hm??? we’re onto u gege. we know u love a felon. confess already.

the door to the itadori household bursts open and in floods a typhoon of drunken chaos and laughter.

drowning in giggles, yuji has his arm thrown over your aching shoulders, humming along to some kind of song. without you, he wouldn't be upright—a jumbling, intoxicated mess.

you're mostly sober, fighting to get him to the bathroom since he was heaving in the taxi.

"whyyy do ya build me upp~" he slurs, a bumbling flurried version of himself, smothering your cheek in wet kisses that have you wriggling away. "butterrrcuppp baby, jus' t'let me downnn...!"

"yuji!" you shriek, the weight of him growing more unbearable as you try to keep him up. his breath is drenched with the heavy scent of liquor. "baby, y'gotta focus or we're not gonna make it to the—"

"—and mess m'rounddd!"

"yuji—'nuff!" you groan loudly as he drapes himself over. at this rate, you might just collapse into a heap on the floor, overcome by his weight as well as the lesser, still relevant amount of alcohol you consumed at the club.

suddenly, the patter of footsteps have you perking up. sukuna—yuji's big brother—rounds the corner, gaunt features sharp with agitation. he must've woken up when the two of you came barreling in.

"sukuna—hi," you can't help the relief that bursts through your chest, evident in the way you exhale.

sukuna notes the way your knees tremble, his brother blabbering embarrassingly on top of you. he puts aside the urge to laugh, figuring he'd spare you just this once.

"here. i got 'im." without any trouble, sukuna drags his little brother under his arm, putting your strength to shame. with the weight lifted, you finally have chance to relax, rolling your arm and letting out a loud sigh of relief.

"thank you. ow—pain."

you stumble, and the broader of the two brothers chuckles, crimson gaze soaking up your body in that dress while you're distracted. "you carried him all the way home?"

"mhm. practically sprawled out on my lap in the taxi. the driver and i had to team up to get him outta there," you whine as you kick off your heels. those stupid things had you wincing terribly most of the night. yuji said they were sexy. as much as you love him, you’re more than sure you will not be wearing them again anytime soon.

"you should've called me." sukuna's features scrunch in disgust as yuji keeps singing in his hold.

"i-i-i neeeeed youu~"

"fuckin' a, did he drink the whole bar?"

"pretty much," you reply, shrugging off your coat and following behind the pair of brothers. yuji looks so funny, almost small despite his lean stature, looking deceivingly short compared to sukuna. "he made a bet with todo and lost."

the sober man grunts as he knocks open the bathroom door, holding up yuji in his other arm. his muscles flex underneath his shirt, stretching the dark cotton, where your eyes briefly linger.

you avert your attention to yuji instead, amusement melting into concern for your boyfriend.

not sharing the same sentiment, sukuna drops him down by the toilet, putting up the lid with a smack and purposely shoving yuji's head into the bowl a little harder than necessary. "theree ya go, dumbass," sukuna grunts, slapping his back as he finally pukes up. "just barely made it."

and you're sure glad he did, thanking the gods your dress had been spared amidst the drama. with the way he'd been acting, you were never sure that you would be safe from the bile climbing his throat, cringing fearfully at times.

you feel much better now that sukuna has taken over. he's older, well-versed in trivial matters like this. yuji's already told you all about his university days, the drunken nights, the fighting—

you curse your thoughts for sprawling so suddenly, shooing off your rodent-like curiosity.

their relationship struggled at times. especially so back then, but things are different now. and as much as sukuna pretends not to care for his little brother, he clearly does, at least a little. after all, the pink tresses of your boyfriends hair are ruffled in his thick hand before he lets go fully.

then sukuna walks on in a rugged stride, leaving yuji to it. on the way out, he knocks your shoulder with his. you can't tell if the action was playful, but you’re sure it wasn't hostile, at least. a little smile creeps onto your lips as your gaze follows him into the kitchen.

sukuna is weird.

he's weird because he's not like yuji in most ways; it's not necessarily a bad thing, but he's much, much harder to see through. with your boyfriend, most things are crystal clear. you can tell what he wants, what he needs, how he needs it. he'll tell you all about it—unselfishly, of course.

however, sukuna, you find, never reads so easily. and it's weird. you can't tell if you prefer it that way, or if you'd rather know what he's thinking.

especially since you're certain you just caught his eyes slithering along your curves.

anyway.

wanting to give yuji some privacy, you pull the door shut, the sound of his gags growing muffled. you half-jog-half-limp to the kitchen, preparing a glass of cold water to ease his throat once it's all over.

unbothered, sukuna leans his back against the counter, scrolling on his phone like this is just another night to him. it's weird.

you start wondering, drawing up the conclusion that this might be first time you and him have ever been alone, in a way. yuji is there, but not really, if you know what i mean. not mentally, anyway.

before you can finish that thought, you deliver the glass to yuji, crouching down to his level and rubbing his back with careful affection. "got you some water, baby. right here, by your hand." you take it gently, guiding it towards the glass.

he's not throwing up so much now, just laying there, waiting for the next wave of nausea to crash over him. his fingers respond to the glass, wrapping around it. "thanks, hic—y're so good t'me..."

you smile warmly, pressing a kiss to his warm cheek. you couldn't care less that he reeks of all kinds of concoctions and puke all rolled up together, wanting to be there for him regardless as you know he would for you.

you whisper a few more reassuring words to him before taking your leave, giving him some time to recover by himself. the bathroom door clicks shut. forgetting all about the third party, you let your back press against it, head jilting as a sigh slips out.

"he worn ya down that much?" sukuna snorts at the display, looking up from his phone.

despite your initial surprise, you laugh too. "he doesn't usually. it's just... been a busy night, i guess. i think he'll pass out in there."

sukuna briefly dips his head into the fridge, getting out a chartreuse-tinted bottle of something. "one would hope. you want one?"

"you're being weirdly nice." you blurt suspiciously, smirking. oh god. maybe the alcohol was starting to work you over, too, because you definitely weren't supposed to say that. sometimes it's better not to ask, someone told you once.

sukuna pulls a face that makes you wish you could crawl out of your skin on command, even though there's technically logic behind your last words.

"am i usually mean?"

"n-no, i just mean—" fuck, stop talking. with growing embarrassment, you shake your head, "nothing. sorry. that was assumptive."

the way you initially scrambled to answer appealed to some wicked humor in him as he laughed. "yeah, it was. so yes or no?"

"yes," you sigh, shoulders slumping in admission, knowing you probably needed it. especially after whatever that was. your head is pounding—god, someone should put me down.

sukuna opens up your bottle with his teeth as you hop up on the counter, watching each other. all had gone quiet behind you. sukuna handed you the drink with the lid still between his teeth, venom swirling in his eyes when he saw the way yours lingered on the gesture.

slowly, you took the bottle, pressing the rim up to your lips before taking a sip. it bubbles in your mouth, sparkling on your tongue before you swallow it down. the burn is a little unpleasant, but you manage.

"any good?" sukuna asks.

"'s okay," you shrug, reading the bottle, pretending like any of it made sense. "a little bitter."

"you like 'em sweet?" the taller man frowns, sorting through the cupboards for something that you're too immersed to ask about.

"kinda. but too much makes me sick," you explain, scrunching your nose at the thought. "i like a balance."

"oh, really?" sukuna snorts as if you've just said the funniest thing in the world.

in one confused motion, you lower your brows. and jilt your head, wondering what's with the sudden jest. "yeah, uh... is that funny?"

sukuna raises his brows, shaking his head, some glasses clinking. "no, not funny. nothin's funny."

he really knows how to make a person feel small, you'd give him that much.

you avert your gaze, heart crawling up into your cheeks. "okay, well..."

"what about you?" he interjects, sparking up another tiny bit of annoyance in you again. not that you knew what you were gonna say anyways. it most likely would've been embarrassing anyway, making you shrink even more, wanting yuji to come out already—

"what about me?" you wonder, your voice meeker than before. curious and cautious, tip-toeing around his words. is there something you're hiding?

"are you the sticking-around or screwing-around type?"

"oh, right," you laugh, making sense of his question. it's big one, though. kind of sprung on you. still, you manage to respond, just telling him what you know while glowing with intoxication, "well, we've only been going out a couple months."

you're more focused on the way he's watching you than you are on actually answering. his eyes are sharp and torrid in comparison to his little brother's, and the way he gazes down rather than looks at you has something in you stirring, writihing hotly beneath your skin.

it's exciting. why is it exciting? there's a giddiness that gyres in the pit of your gut like a ballerina, pirouettes and grands jetés, heat cooking and simmering through your veins. it's terrible. it's weird.

"well, you can't blame me for being protective." sukuna shrugs. "he seems to really like you."

while what he's saying rings true, there's a chord slightly off-key, something askew that you can't place. is he closer than before?

you ignore it, trying on a smile. "well, feeling's mutual."

you take another sip from the bottle, the cool rim settling on your lips, sparks igniting on your tongue, the same routine replaying. you don't even think before adding gleefully, "and he's like, a jazillion times more sane than my last boyfriend, so i'm happy."

"are you?" sukuna asks, serious.

it was like flipping a switch. he was laughing, now he's earnest, and you were just entirely confused, his meaning lost on you, like you're the last in line in a game of chinese whispers. he caught you off guard with that one. and he knows it, too, carmine eyes feasting on your discomfort.

your smile falters slightly before you nod. "yeah."

"okay." he just says.

now you were really starting to get pissed off with him. whatever he's doing, it's stupid. he might as well have you cornered, except you've done nothing wrong, and yet he's prancing around you with a tone of prolific doubt. as if he knows something about you that you yourself don't.

"what?" you demand, equally serious now, smile wiped clean off. the air turns thick.

sukuna shrugs his shoulders again and you swear you have to fight off a sneer. "nothing."

is he casting doubt on your love for yuji? is that what this is? is he trying to tell you you're not good enough for him? that even though you trudged half a mile in those huge stupid heels just because he said they looked hot on you—carrying his dead weight, might i add, as he was screeching a song you'd never heard in your ear—that all of that was just for laughs, and there were no real feelings behind those actions? is that seriously what he's getting at?

sukuna wants to laugh so bad. your face is all screwed up, cheeks puffed out and burning a deep red. oh, how it fuels him. your stubbornness, that endearing naivety that clings to you like all your modest perfumes, the one that lingers in yuji's room, occasionally in his clothes, infecting every dark corner of his mind—and now you know how it feels to be tortured by him.

"you want some water?" the man asks casually. your mind is on fire, your thoughts more blaring than you would probably think. it's written all over you.

his question makes your shoulders drop, feeling stupid all over again. what are you getting so worked up for? you're secure in your feelings for yuji. as his brother, sukuna has every right to feel concern for him. there really is no need for you to be acting like this.

he's playing you like a damn flute.

"yes, please." you answer a lot more softly, pulling your hair around to one side. you'd been bratty without cause, assumptive, again. you really need to stop mischaracterizing him. after all, he's no monster. "i think all the drinks are finally getting to my head a little."

he starts filling up a glass, grinning at you over his shoulder, mischief playing in his slanted-eyes. "oh, don't tell me you were expecting anything bottled. tap's the best y're gonna get from us. hope you can handle it."

a smile works onto your lips as you finally start to loosen up again, legs swinging gently off the side of the counter. playing along, you wince. "oh yeah, well, i usually only drink expensive, you know, mineral-rich—"

"yeah."

he's suddenly between your legs, his mouth devouring your own, swallowing the terrified noise that begs to escape. for a moment, you're frozen in shock, eyes widening as you palms meet his chest in a forceful attempt at creating space.

sukuna juts back, forced away from you. his eyes crack open but are still like slits, dark, crawling with lust you hadn't previously noticed—no, acknowledged, because the choice has always been there.

he relishes in the terror that brims in your eyes at his visceral kiss. it feels natural, but not in the tender, motherly sense. like predator devouring prey. the natural order of life.

his hands are hot, gripping onto your thighs, digging into the tights he could easily rip to shreds, giving him full access to your warm cunt, to ruin you.

and yet he doesn't.

he waits for your eyes to droop, for you to lunge at him, accepting this twisted spiral of events, indulging his darkness. teeth clicking, tongues meeting messily in a sloppy kiss, drool gathering between you both as you crash together all at once, a train wreck of carnality. sukuna's hands are all over you, groping, slashing at the crotch of your tights. you gasp into his mouth as cold air meets the sobbing wetness of your cunt, followed by a slap to it.

"f-fuck! hey, who said you could—hmff!" you yelp as his hand clamps over your mouth suddenly, his scarlet eyes narrowing.

"brat, watch ya fuckin' mouth." sukuna warns as you grapple with him. his tattoos look especially menacing then, chiseling his features. "he's drunk. not deaf."

you nod, trying to tell him you understand. he releases your lips in an instant only to seize them again in his so forcefully.

yuji would never—could never take you like this, and you fucking know it. you know it with every gnaw, every squash of your tits that leaves you whining like a bitch in heat, every bite against your neck where you can feel the outline of his brother's teeth and a short gush of crimson.

rationality is lost on you as you mindlessly rut against him, your hands running up and down his back until you start tugging on his pants, eager to rid him of them.

meanwhile, sukuna's making a meal out of you—you make up half of his size, giving him complete control to do as ever he pleases.

every whine is met with a grunt. his cock must have been freed at some point as you feel his greedy hands lift you against him, your chests meeting, the sharp cold of the counter leaving your ass and feeling his palms spread you apart instead.

nothing could prepare you for the suddenness of which he fills you—you scream, half openly, half having shoved your face into his shoulder—aware his brother, your lover, is passed out over the toilet in the other room.

"shh, shh—fuckin' shit!" sukuna groans, features curling in erotic bliss.

he gluts you in ways yuji never has, the ways he'll never dare—with such cruel, carnal demand, to the brim, unkind, violent, and so, so fucking good.

as he breaches your womb, you claw his back raw through his shirt. a sob rips through you. sukuna does his best to keep you quiet. "shh... fuck. yer so fuckin' tight, girl. relax."

"t-tryin'... 'm so full..." you whine, eyes misting over with tears. it feels too good, you think...

"i know—" sukuna chokes, barely lifting you up on his cock, feeling your walls spasm around him. "fuck, what ya cryin' for?"

he feels too good.

"d-don't move yet, i'll cum," you gasp, and he hasn't even tried—sukuna's expression blanches.

"already?" he bursts out laughing in his brutish way, the side that yuji lacked entirely as the nicest person you've ever known; fuck. the humiliation makes your cunt squeeze again.

he lifts you up, your knees draped over his thick arms, foreheads meeting. your breaths intertwine, hot and treacherous, caressing each other's faces.

"ya know, i've fuckin' heard you, all those times."

"wh-what?" you stammer cluelessly, only half there, clinging to sukuna as he dangles you on his cock, your eyes crossing when he starts to bounce you on him.

"said i fuckin' heard you, you 'n yuji—'n shit, ya never got this loud, huh?" he smirks wickedly, feeling your body collapse hopelessly against him. he fucks you up and down on him, swallowing up your pathetic moans and whines like they were the last noise he'd ever hear. "been wanting to take ya like this, stretch yer dumb little cunt on me, fuckk—ya got no fuckin' idea, princess."

rocking up and down, you wail, head bobbing. sukuna can just see your little maw dangling open—it takes everything in him not to jam his fucking fingers in your throat until you drool and splutter around him.

"y—you wanted—this?" you struggle, feeling too good to make sense of anything, to think straight, to do anything other than take every rough kiss to your cervix, feeling your insides bruise and swell with lucid excitements.

"lemme guess, the brat cums too soon—never quite gets ya there, hm?" sukuna guesses correctly, making you whine and nod and babble.

"h-how did y—ah, fuck—!" he snapped his hips, picking up the speed as you wept on him. you'd never been fucked like this in your life, and your world was getting flipped on its head. when did your dress come down? you weren't sure—but now your tits were bouncing and sukuna wasn't gonna pass up the opportunity to tear into them.

"cuz, 's just obvious," sukuna rasps, teeth clamping down on your raised nipple, "can tell this sloppy pussy ain't gettin' treated right. not when she's—shit—creamin' all over me jus' from stickin' it in."

"'k—kuna, don't—ahh! fuck!"

"that's it girl, shit, c'mon," sukuna keeps picking you back up only to drop all your weight on his fat cock, his balls slapping against your ass, the slick you're gushing causing them to stick together.

your head is empty, devoid of anything except the chaos, the suddenness of it all, the shock, he's fucking you. your boyfriend's older brother is fucking you, and you've never felt so goddamn good.

there's this sudden wave. a wetness. an explosive feeling that crashes over you in one swift, predatory pounce. like when a deer gets suddenly ripped apart. your head straight up drops on sukuna's shoulder, and you're sobbing loudly, babbling words that can't be defined.

then all of a sudden, sukuna outright cackles; the sound bleeds into your ringing ears, head picking up off of his shoulder.

"no fuckin' way!" he roars with laughter. you wanna shush him, but you can't move—your nerve ends are all bursting to life, like fruitful grapes popping between two fingers. it's happening again, whatever that feeling is, whelming you; this time you his fingers rub back and forth harshly across your clit, but wait—

"dumb lil pussy's squirtin' already, hahh, shit—fuckin' christ, girl—" he's enamored, watching you cum in adorable little spurts, soaking his clothes, your tights, and the kitchen floor, covering everything in your stupid juices.

"you wanted this, goddamn—look at you."

your eyes are rolled back as he kisses you again, fingers tearing into your scalp, the lewd sound of your lips smacking together filling the air.

never in your fucking life. you'd never came like that, so violently, so carelessly, not without really, really trying. all sukuna had to do was pump you up and down on his cock, say a few words and you were spraying like a tap. how fucking pathetic.

and then he does it again. drags another one out of you, laughing.

you barely catch his next words.

"'m gonna fuckin' cum in ya."

"n—no—" you stumble out, barely coming to at the words, but their enough to fill you with at least some urgency. your ass is bruised at the back from being repeatedly slammed against the counter, the wind knocked out of you entirely. "d-don't, wait, you can't—"

"why the fuck not, hah?" sukuna rumbles. "don't tell me it's cuz'a—"

"—yuji," you sob.

it hits you. it hits you then, hard, at the worst time. a gut-punch, one that makes you heave. in less than half a second, a guilt strong enough to set your skin alight cultivates and wrecks each single sense. his cologne invades your nostrils, an imaginary sensation, forced to breathe its natural, tender nature as opposed to sukuna's harsh and crude and brooding one, the one you're drowning in. the one sticking to your skin.

your hand—finally letting go of sukuna's shoulder, where you were keeping yourself stable—slaps over your mouth, tears springing into your eyes.

"f—fuck, fuck, fuck!" sukuna chants, eyes scrunching as he gets lost in the pleasure. he's pounding you, knocking your eyes back still, not slowing his pace for anything. your leg flails once, but how can you fight when he's holding you up like this?

"'s—'kuna," you choke out brokenly, slapping his chest with whatever strength you can muster. your lip quivers, heart aching in your chest as you plead tearfully, "don't."

he'd never been considerate. he'd never 'made love'. not even now. he fucked. he lied, he slipped off condoms, he 'forgot' to pull out, all so many times before. it was clockwork to him. he could've easily done it again. lied. been selfish. blurred the lines. cheated consent.

put a baby in his little brother's whore girlfriend.

and yet sukuna weirdly found himself pulling out of you last second, one hand holding you up while the other jerked his cock until thick ropes of cum splattered up your dress with a strained grunt. his orgasm spoils at it hits, a rough ecstasy that's tattered along the edges and ultimately, ultimately unsatisfying. it barely scratches the surface. the heat of it hasn't even started leaving his body before he wants more, regrets not filling you up, every cell inside him clawing for it, starved and fucking addicted.

sukuna almost, almost crushes you against the island, dropping you on the counter again where your drenched cunt feels like it's been electrocuted when met with the cold so suddenly. you gasp, arching into him, searching for any kind of warmth.

but he rips away from you, turning his back. his touch is gone as soon as it came. any desire flatlines, ringing loudly, blaring in your sensitive ears. alarm bells.

what is this?

both your chests are heaving. there's no afterglow. it's messy, dirty, frantic. cheap. depraved.

and it seems like you aren't the only one.

"s-sukuna, i—"

CLICK.

lips snapping shut, you sit right up, head whipping around in the most deafeningly guilty sense ever. heart in your throat, your expression echoes one of pure horror, one you expect will reflect your boyfriend's when he realizes what's going on here.

yuji stumbles out of the bathroom, his mop of pink hair tousled and eyelids low. he hangs by the doorframe for several seconds, his head dropped, not even looking up. it takes only a few steps. they're slow, clumsy, lead him to the bedroom door. he doesn't notice. he doesn't notice.

his older brother and his girlfriend are feet away, covered in squirt and sperm and other dirty secrets. shame. guilt. some more than others.

and he just blunders into the bedroom, a loud 'thump', telling you that he made it to bed.

all you do is stare. your jaw stays slack.

you hear a zipper and, frazzled, quickly flit your head at sukuna. he's fixing his clothes, not paying you any mind.

you stare at his back, despairing.

"wh—you're just gonna...?" you stammer incredulously, trying to do the same but there's no fixing the gaping hole in your tights that reaches down to your mid thighs.

away from his gaze, him cum settles against the fabric of your torn up dress, pooling slowly in its place.

his cock, hardly soft, twitches again, urging his need. he ends up frozen for a moment, simply staring, before he numbly moves forward.

he leaves, leaving you sat on the counter as he storms out into the night, slamming the front door behind him.

you're alone there, stunned, cum up your dress that is almost but not quite your boyfriend's, the floor below you soaked, and a heartbeat in every part of your body.

trembling, you push yourself off of the counter.

vaguely aware of the layout of the house, you scramble to find some wipes and clean up the mess on the floor. after that, it takes at least 10 minutes to get the semen out of your dress, but even then, you feel filthy.

you sniffle over the sink, scrubbing soapy suds into your tainted skin. wanting to throw up.

what the fuck had you done?

you'd cheated. that's it. you cheated on the sweetest angel, your angel, yuji. the one entirely too gentle and trusting for this world. you betrayed him. a sob rips through you, shattering your core.

stupid, stupid, stupid.

as you sneak back into bed, fingers still shaking as they turn the handle to yuji's room, you don't even have the energy to change your clothes. you simply crawl into bed, too crushed to face him, not garnering the strength, knowing what you'd done. a tear slips down your cheek.

because you can't even regret it.

and before you know it, yuji's draping himself over you, his arms, pulling you against the haven of his chest, sighing against your neck.

"you made it..." he mumbles.

oh, how you want to sob when he says such a thing. "yeah," you nod, trying to suppress the break in your voice, "yeah, i'm here."

yuji grunts happily, snuggling you closer. "mmh, good."

you don't think you will ever forgive yourself.

"i love you." yuji says, blind to the truth.

but you swear it's not one-sided. "i love you," you admit, beginning to cry softly in his arms, wondering if it will be the last time you ever get the liberty of doing so again.

[sillied-too-hardxp]

~D~e~s~p~a~i~r~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~♡⁠˖⁠꒰⁠ᵕ⁠༚⁠ᵕ⁠⑅⁠꒱💖꒰⁠⑅⁠ᵕ⁠༚⁠ᵕ⁠꒱⁠˖⁠♡~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~(Alfred's Pov)~

You remember the first time you saw them.

A scared child who had just moved to Gotham… Only for their parents to die in a mugging gone wrong.

You remember them only speaking in their native language… Not understanding what happened. Not understanding that their parents are gone… Your heart bleeds for them.

Unfortunately, it seems that this scenario is more common than it should…

You remember the look on their face- 

You know it was the same one that Bruce had. 

You had simply thought that they happened to be another blood child of Bruce’s, you were correct, but their mother had been a distant friend of Bruce’s. Old childhood friends during the time Thomas and Martha were alive and well. Who sent her condolences when she heard the news… The one who also asked for Bruce to be their donor.

A friend who had only recently called quite a bit ago announced that she, her wife, and child would be moving to Gotham soon. That she hoped they could re-spark their once vibrant friendship…

. . .

Now laid dead, just had Bruce’s did. Leaving a grieving child behind in the aftermath… just like Bruce.

You had foolishly thought once Bruce came home he would help the child grieve. That they weren’t alone, that everything was going to be okay. But… 

He just…

Walked past them… Without a single glance…

. . .

You’ve never been more disappointed in your LIFE.

You’d never thought that this could ever occur… 

Bruce…. Like a drop of rain, adopted promising children, ignored the most promising one?

The one with the most compassionate eyes and tear-stricken cheeks, the one that shares the grief he has? That shares the now same traumatic memories he has??

You never felt the need to scream more in your life… How could Bruce just walk past them?? As if they weren’t there??? As if he hadn’t gotten that call Commissioner Gordan informed him of his friends’ passing? That he didn’t agree to look after the child if they were to suddenly pass??? That, as their Godfather, he would raise as his own(if blood wasn’t relevant)?

But in the end, you set up a room for them… helping them to bed. Sitting in a chair nearby, for the night terrors that eventually appeared throughout the night.

. . . .

You forced yourself to continue with the present, trying to find a way to contact [Name]. To figure out if they’re okay… If they are happy and alive. 

You usually trusted your gut instincts… But… This feeling? Was complete and absolute DREAD. That they were no longer there. That something downright horrifying happened. . . That they had d i e d. That you could no longer hear the melody of their laugh. The songs they would hum helping you around the manor… The hugs that could make you stop breathing. Their eyes that stare at you look at you as if YOU were the one who made the universe they resided in…. The one you missed the most out of anyone you’d once known.

You felt it before… Jason came into your mind. Yes, he was dead for an indeterminate amount of time, but he’s alive now. Visiting every once in a while. He still contacts you when he’s not.

But this?? This situation? Leaves you feeling like you could vomit… That you’re mourning once again… 

To take your mind off of the feeling. You use the Batcomputer to search more in-depth into {Hope’s Peak Academy}. 

Hoping to find answers to questions on why students haven’t been seen in a while. Why the students aren’t answering their parents’ phone calls and letters? Why the academy now looks barren? As if students and staff hadn’t been there in months…

You’ve looked into everything. The only news you found were about strange bears roaming around the school. About how bizarre the bears look… 

That feeling… 

.

.

.

.

Now feels even worse…

_____________________tags_____________________

@welpthisisboring @pialexx

sorry for the wait!! >< i didn't know how to write the many MANY ideas in my head (; > <) i hope the tags work cause im more used to mobile! also!! send asks if you want! cause i'll be checking in with this blog more often lol

[aionishoh]

realized I haven't posted anything so take this:

Male!Yandere x former yandere! reader (Highschool setting)

originally written in a they/their, so im sorry if i missed a spot

There he were. Absolutely doing nothing but catching your attention. he blended in perfectly in the crowd but your mind made them the only thing you see. It was almost funny how you could miss such a thing.

It started with a simple pass by. You walking in a direction, and them walking in the opposite way. You didn't really pay attention to them and assumed it was a normal stranger. Completely unknown.

But it was when you saw him again. You realized how nice he looked. You began to notice his fashion sense. Shirt always a bit ruffled, bag swung lazily, hair clean but a little disheveled.

Then, on the third meeting. It was more of a fate. "Ah! You again. We have met, have we not?" He asked, looking at you with a sense of rememberance.

Did i mention you accidentally bumped into them during your second meeting? Hopefully i did.

"Ah! Uhm, yes. We did meet."

He introduced themselves, and you got welcomed into a side you didn't expect. Infatuation.

It turns out, he often frequented the places you went to. Along with sharing the same classroom. But, you went ahead and got a bit greedy.

"Hey, do you mind if i could borrow some notes?"

"Oh, sure."

You memorized his handwriting. Noticing how it was consistent and messy at the same time. The notes scattered but placed into relevant areas. You noted the way he wrote their o's and a's.

"Can i borrow a pen?"

"I don't really have the pens you use. But yeah, here."

You noted the way he held their pen. The way he looked when writing down. The way he magically made their handwriting look smooth with ease. You noted the pen he always uses.

Then, it started getting more personal.

A camera.

In a modern world, who would need cameras when its already built in with phones? But, you couldn't deny the thought made you giddy.

As days passed, you made a little home where you can devote yourself to him. A shrine.

All the pictures hung up were him. All in various locations, all unknowingly taken. You were fully convinced you should be in a mental asylum but a little memorabilia wouldn't hurt a person.

In the shrine itself, was a couple of few things that belonged to him. A few strands of hair, a toilet paper that was used to dry his hands. A handkerchief that he thought fell off a roof but was miraculously landed in your everyday spot.

It was perfect. All that needed was a candle to light up your world full of him.

You walked past the cafe where you had the same order as him, your bag behind you and filled with materials needed for a group project with him.

A couple of few steps, you arrived at his house.

"Oh hey, welcome to my humble abode."

"Very humbling indeed,"

You placed your bag down, sitting on the couch, admiring his home before getting reminded of her "excuse". "Ooh, sounds really bad but can i use your bathroom?"

"Yep, its just down the hall. Mind if i take the materials out of your bag?"

"Not at all!"

With much haste, you went to his room after three tries and one of them finding the actual bathroom. The room seemed to be his taste, which led you to knowing it was his in the first place.

With a hum, you quietly snooped around. Finding personal belongings, such as their watch, diary, wallets. But then you reached the closet.

A voice in your head said take a small piece of clothing, but you knew better. Although you were creepy, taking pictures and knowing things about him. You knew this was a line that you shouldn't cross.

You carefully returned the things back to the way they were before heading back to the living room.

"You sure took a while."

"Spent most of the time trying to find it."

While doing this simple project with him. You realized your actions was almost concerning. I mean sure, you looked like those creepy guys from Wattpad, but this was borderline concerning.

As soon as you two finished the project, you went to your once safe shrine and removed the pictures from the wall. Taking one last look at each one before tearing them up.

This was bad. And all because of a crush. You werent even aware that your infatuation turned into an obsession. An addiction.

You threw the keepsakes and gizmos into the trash. Removing every hint of your previous crush.

You mentally set a line. If you were gonna have a crush, it wouldn't have to end with you taking photos of them and praying to them like a God.

It would be normal. A normal crush where you admire them and where you confess to them during Valentines day.

This is the end for your obsessed self.

The next day was a bit of a awkward situation. Usually you were talking to him about random yaps, making sure you would be remembered but you didn't need to anymore.

"Heya Y/N, ready for the presentation?"

"Hm? Oh sure! I already got what i need to say memorized."

During these times, you would usually scooch much closer to him as possible without being too obvious. But now, you just did as you normally did.

The project got graded well, and that was your last interaction with him for now. Atleast thats what you thought.

As days bled into weeks, he noticed how you weren't as clingy anymore. He noticed how you would usually wait for him after school but now he's the one waiting.

Only for you to be walking with someone else on the way home.

He began to pay attention on how you didn't have that same glint in your eyes whenever you looked at him. His eyes noticing how you seemed more calmer near him instead of you fidgeting.

Soon, he heard wind from your friends that you found a new crush.

It wasn't that he didn't know you had a crush on him, oh, no. Absolutely not.

He knew you looked into his room during the group project day. He had a camera set up in the corner and watched you shovel through his stuff. Watching you open his closet and only to pause.

Why? He had perfectly set up everything that day. The way to the bathroom had an easier shortcut, but he led you to the longer way where you can find his room. He purposefully left the door unlocked and his belongings out.

He neatly placed his most favorite clothes out front where you could easily take them. But in the end, you didn't take anything. Even placing back where the items belonged.

He always pretended like he didn't see you scuttling around whenever hes out. He always made sure he looked good in every photos you tooked. He knew that he was your Sun and it inflated his ego.

But why the change of crush?

He noticed that you aren't that clingy with your crush. You didn't take strange photos anymore. You didnt take any stray hair than fell from their head.

You were disinterested in him.

Merely seeing him as a old crush, and one you quickly got over of so quickly.

After all these times of pretending to be dumb, you let him go?

After all this time he spent trying to remember the things you talked about to him?

Impossible.

The new guy didn't even look closely to him. In fact, he was the complete opposite of him.

He hated how you weren't there to be his number one fan. He despised the way you seemed more far away than usual. He hated how you would only give him a wave or a nod when you pass by him in hallways, and not running up to him with a cheeky smile.

Well, might as well buy a camera and some thumbtacks. He's gonna need it for his shrine.

Oh, did i mention hes more crazier than you?

[sexybread-png]

just elaborating on the previous ask

no, it is not because she “has a bush” and no it is not transphobic or misogynist to point out that you specifically drew her hairier than any other character when she is the darkest black women you have drawn or portrayed ESPECIALLY when you are portraying a real cis black actress who does not have the arm hair you are putting into your artwork.

women can and do have hair i am not saying that, but black women in particular have a long history of being forced into a realm of masculinity that is purely because of their skin color, maybe look into that instead of an article on “women and hair” if you are trying to show that you listen to criticism

hello again anon

to reiterate, i do want this to be a conversation, im not trying to shut you down or downplay your concerns by bringing my own. i do feel its relevant to inform you that you bringing up the fact that cynthia is a cis woman and should thus have less hair IS breeding grounds for those concerns.

on that note, i am NOT portraying the real life person cynthia erivo in my drawings, but elphaba thropp the fictional character. elphaba, if u didnt know, is not cis. shes intersex, as stated in the books. i do understand that using cynthia's likeness makes elphaba a black woman and so i have been careful abt my portrayal of her, but elphaba is not cynthia erivo. its important to make a distinction between the actress and the character

further, if the arm hair ur speaking of is the armpit hair, cynthia probably does have arm hair and chooses to shave it. i just dont think elphaba the character would be the type to shave.

if ur talking abt this drawing though i will point out that this is an alternate universe in which elphaba is a werewolf, as stated in the post, which is why she is so hairy. if i drew galinda as a werewolf, id draw her just as hairy! (which is smth ive done in the past, drawing white ppl / non black ppl as hairy werewolves.)

also, i have drawn darker skinned women who weren't as hairy:

my goal isnt to draw black women more masculine than non black women. my goal is to just draw women, all kinds of them, and it includes hairy black women bc i believe women being hairy does not make them more masculine. my intention shows in my drawings too: im not drawing elphaba less of a person or less pretty than galinda bc shes hairier. she just is hairier

in an effort to have a wider perspective on the subject, i did talk about this with my friend. shes an indigenous woman so to clarify shes not trying to compare her experiences to black women's, just offer her own perspective and she means all of it in good faith. i asked if i could show what she told me bc i felt like she explained things in a really thoughtful and intelligible way

[ilikerosesalot]

Flower language analysis for Jambound ch 27 (PART 1: blue primerose, spoilers under the cut)

Ill be honest everything here is a direct copy-paste of the commetn I left on ch 27, Im not typing all that again iuhuihuih.

Ok so primeroses. Contains the latin word "primus: which means "first", the first flower to bloom in spring, thus the flower is associated with renewal, eternity and youth/young love. Shadow Milk described it as a "prelude", sth that signifies sth important later on. He is currently courting Pure Vanilla and rekindling their previous love (renewal). A prelude for sth thats going to happen- these two are bounded by fate and if all goes well...heheh *cue wedding bells* (eternity). Youth/young love- this ones kinda a strech cause theyre both OLD old, but like if we choose not to take the younf part too literallt then well, this is porbably new to both of them. Not that they dont have relationship experience its been implied they both had sth going on but, it the first time building sth lasting if that makes sense. Theyre taking the first steaps towards it-actting similar to how many experiencing "young love" would act.

Hope and optimism is also associated with primeroses, since theyre the first flowers to bloom in spring and thus signifyung that winter is over (thinking about a scene in the prev chapters where pv walked throught the freezing cold of the other realm to reach smilk). Primroses are also used to symbolize deep love, many of the places i looked said they mean "I can't live without you". Ok bro. Ok.

Now coming to the fact its a blue primerose. This. This variant of the flower means trust and belief. "The perfect gift to strenghten trust and belief in a relationship"- do i even NEED to say anything. I would also like to mention what blue colors generally mean in flower language. Similar to how yellow in flowers generally means happinness and loyalty, blue flowers often are used to symbolize deep admiration and trying to achieve sth impossible. To persure something out of reach, sth unknown. This is because blue is one of the rarest colors, not just in flowers but in nature as a whole. It attracts attaention and provides little camaflouge. So basically a blue primerose in the context of this fic can mean something like, despite the fact that a positive bond forming between them seemed so out of reach- to the point where smilk even unknowingly binded them together, their mutual affection growing deeper and deeper until it destroyed them, despite the fact it shouldve been impossible, theyre both going to trust each other. Shadow milk in particular had to literally risk all his fears just to end the soulbond. And him actually persuing pv this time is his way of giving an olive branc. Re-do things and make it right. Ough

Also primroses make apearance in various shakespearean plays- fitting for a showman like shadowmilk. And!! Theyre known for healing properties!! Which is fittign for pure vanilla cookie. And this is just a personal observation but blue primeroses have a yellow centre- literally shadownilla colors. Thats about all the relevant info i got from my research journey.

Oh god I ended up writing a whole mini essay about how primersoes fit the narrative of this fic I did not mean to yap this much. But man I love my flower languages. This was insanely fun, might return to analyze the other flowers smilk got for pvs garden but i used up all my brainjuice. Im going to rest now bye

[timeslipcamp]

so the traitor thing

everyone has a theory and i feel like i've seen everyone's name thrown out at some point but i'm just throwing my two cents in the ring so that way someone can yell I TOLD YOU SO when we finally find out (hopefully me)

spoilers through ep 15

so the traitor thing was something touched early on and then not often since, getting sprinkled throughout just enough to remind us that while we need to get close to the ghouls, we still need to be suspicious

i wanna say eye roll but im so fucking locked in to trying to figure this out

anyways, despite the super sus vibes from the beginning, the first we really hear about the traitor is actually when taiga brings it up in episode 4

taiga's implying he knows who it is. he also knows a lot more than he's letting on, which i'll get into some other time, but this moment is also bookended by a couple moments of the most lucid taiga we've seen yet. in both episodes where taiga is featured, he's shown figuring out the anomalies before anyone else, and it wouldn't surprise me if he's known all along

another time we see the traitor mentioned is ed. he's such a weirdo i love him

what a freak <3

anyways he doesn't really give us any more info, just tells us that he knows. which also doesn't surprise me because apparently he can read the text boxes like he's deadpool or something.

but it continues to be sprinkled throughout the story, and we even get little hints that someone betrayed jin last year. so: who is it? 1. someone heavily involved with the ghouls and knows enough personal info that it's fucked them over (and potentially caused the clash, but that's a theory i'm still mulling over) 2. someone smooth talking and sly enough that they can get away with it

there's some obvious choices and some off the wall choices, but my basis is coming from a writing standpoint and is based mainly on themes....which is SO unfortunate, because he's one of my favs and if he's the traitor i'll cry

but i think it's haku

cue crying here

the instant a traitor was mentioned, my immediate gut instinct was haku--which in all honesty, that could be on purpose! they could have made him really obvious so we're looking away from who it actually is. but either way, my gut was screaming haku purely from the way he was introduced to us

a white knight swooping in to save us? promises our safety right away? tells us his main job is to clean up after the other ghouls because the teachers send him in?

i think it speaks for itself right there

not to mention if you pick him as the one you save right at the beginning, this is his intro:

suuuuussspiiiiiiiciiiiiooooouuuuuussssss

he's one of the ones that i believe has a plot relevant intro, and it's also because of this and his line in episode 15 that makes me think if he IS the traitor, then he doesn't really want to be. he's super flirty with mc as well, and while i think a lot of that is an act to get him to trust us, i think at least a little of it is genuine. this could just be because i'm a sucker for the classic trope of "i was supposed to hurt you but then i fell in love with you," but it is SO easy to see that with someone like haku.

unless he really is just duping us and i fell for it. but it's moments like this that make me think mc is slowly turning him back to the ghouls side

anyways, so we get into episode 15 where he talks a little more about his past. starting off in clementia makes sense i think. my guess is that it was a healing/holy house centered around sending spirits on and quieting the undead (more on defunct houses in a different post) so with his shrine fam, that fits. then he transferred to frostheim (well known family. again, makes sense.) and then ended up in hotarubi, another one that fits. the only suspicious part is him leaving frostheim last year and the timing of it. him and yuri would have left at the same time tohma was transferring in, presumably at the same time the clash was happening. he's got inside deets on three houses (one now gone) so that just adds to the ways he'd be able to wiggle in anywhere

not to mention in episode 15 he drops the line "make a deal with darkwick" several times. it almost feels like a callback to the classic haku traitor line

taiga voice "slimy motherfucker." anyways he says two or three times in episode 15 that he made a deal with darkwick. how often is he dealing with darkwick?

also, there was the break in at jabberwock. ren didn't say anything was taken, so i'm hesitant to say the traitor did this. this could have been any number of people just trying to get info on ren and what his stigma can do. ritsu said that he thought it was a professional, which makes me think it was a ghoul since they'd be able to make a quick getaway.

i've seen haku be associated with tanuki several times. tanuki are japanese "raccoon dogs" that are often depicted as tricksters in folklore, much the same way foxes are in western europe and coyotes are here in the states. while they're tricksters, they're not necessarily malevolent, and i feel like that fits with haku as well.

like i said earlier, i don't think haku necessarily wants to be the traitor. this whole story just feels...tense? i don't know if that's the right word, but it always feels like haku is waiting on something. the few conversations where the other ghouls seem a little suspicious (namely rui) and when he's talking to the teachers, it's always felt strained. so my two main guesses with haku are

1. he's being blackmailed into this. maybe he fucked something up and darkwick is covering it up for him as long as he feeds them info (was he at fault for yuri's medical mistake? is that why zenji died? does he feel guilty and that's why he's doing so much for a ghost now?)

2. he's the traitor willingly because something happened that made him distrust the other ghouls and side with the teachers, but mc is slowly making him realize the ghouls aren't all bad and deserve to be treated with respect. also, episode 15 has him admit he always takes the easy way out. saving his own hide would certaily be easiest.

i just realized i keep referencing the teachers all the way through this. i think the faculty are the antagonists of the story. they've felt slimy from the beginning and the more we talk the less i trust them. fight the power

i'm still not completely sold on haku, though. it can't be any of the first years because they weren't here for the betrayal last year. i don't think it's jin, tohma, or alan because they're all actively trying to solve it i think. zenji's dead, yuri seems like he was trying to run away from it and also actively avoids the other ghouls. i also don't think it's romeo because i think taiga would have done something crazy if it was. other traitors on my shortlist are: rui (can move in shadows, faculty could be holding a cure for his curse over his head), subaru (i think he could be guilted into it), and taiga himself (but he's not aware, only suspecting. memory suppression, constantly guessing who people are...it could be!!)

so that's my traitor theory! i'm sure i'll come up with more theories (hopefully in a more coherent manner) as more episodes come out.

send me who you think it is! ask and dms are always open

[heuldoch7b]

while i was gone, i was deeply contemplative about part of what made me take a hiatus in the first place, which is shame. long post forewarning

growing up on the internet (i was 10 when i started using the internet, back in 2010-11) and something i was (and frankly, still am) constantly exposed to was shaming others. ranging from "light hearted" shaming; this ranged from poking fun at an amateur artists work for it looking funny or it being super "tumblry" to shaming with the guise of social justice, you know "hey this artist draws X and thats BAD and if you support them youre JUST AS BAD".

when i was younger i poked fun at other artists and engaged in cancel culture, on a very small scale (just my friends and i) and i regret it. it was entirely due to my own low self esteem and peojecting fear of being made fun of myself. but ive retained that fear, even as i've matured and grown to understand how unkind it is to shame and mock others, ESPECIALLY as myself a weird, autistic artist who draws "cringe but free" stuff

and even with regards to problematic content, stuff that, reasonably more often than not, ellicits a "yuck" reaction out of most viewers, has turned more into a genuine social risk of getting a callout over being immoral or gross and losing your social circles and delving into isolation. this happened to me. i think it genuinely messed me up, and im dealing with it even now.

it has lead me to be avoidant of being honest about what i like, and being afraid of befriending others due to fear of being dropped again. this is of course not fair to you, potential reader, but unfair to myself as well. i want to develop a healthier respect for my friends as well as myself about what i do and dont like, and not feeling guilty for saying no or not liking something.

i think, as i remake my old pinned post, i am going to be more explicit on stuff, i like shipping the primarchs! i love it very much even. and if you do not thats absolutely A-OK. i like drawing the dismal warcriminals as genderweird. i like maybe skirting away from how chronically cynical and dour the universe (which i do still enjoy, im into warhammer FOR warhammer) and making silly, comfy stuff. fuck i LOVE drawing weird heroic nudity mythological scenes where some characters are like, centaurs, cause its sick as fuck.

and with all that i myself need to be okay with maybe people who i enjoy their work of dont really jive with all that, and that isnt the end of the world, its just being honest with oneself, and thats really important to do. i will be trying to maybe tag sensitive stuff like primarchcest better, so people can filter it out, but i am not gonna be hypervigilant about tagging everything because that would make me neurotic and id rather just be unfollowed or blocked at that point.

anywho, i really just wanted to put my thoughts down into words and share them, i honestly wrote this out and deleted it like 3 times already due to, hilariously, shame. but this is a really important topic to me and extremely relevant to my social presence on this website. i care for you all immensely, even if we are all strangers online.

i will be sad if i lose potential friendships over the things i like, but theres literally thousands of people if not more on this website, and it so fine and healthy to go like "eh no i dont want that in my life" to something like someones specific fuckin fandom art LOL

if any of you want to talk to me about your experiences with shame, id welcome it, may it be through a reblog or messaging me personally. i think its really important for all of us to be unashamed, mindful of course, but not stifling ourselves. be free have fun type stuff. i hope i can drop my own shackles too. thanks for reading

[lsunstreakerl]

my prompt has been extremely fulfilled but im just putting this out in the universe… maxiel or lestappen, with a Significant age difference where max is inexperienced, like a shy blushing type. and oop, daddy kink unlocked…. 🙂‍↕️

obviously, again, this has gotten out of hand. in the name of the father, the son, and the holy coldplums, I gift to you all the reason for my relative radio silence: maxiel corporate boytoy.

I've got. hmmmm. about 8k of it written at the moment, so I'm posting the first few chunks for you all to read. here is 2.5k of exposition, alternating POV's. HI: kink prompt. obviously. explicit content ahead.

pairings: daniel ricciardo/max verstappen

relevant heads up: power imbalance, age difference, work environment that would make an HR department cry. dirtbag daniel (somewhat), inexperienced max.

Daniel doesn't really keep up with the interns- supposedly he's been observing them all year, narrowing them down the best ones, the perfect fit for the company.

In reality, he pays them no mind and lets the supervisors tell him who they want. It's a good system, and it hasn't failed him yet.

He's walking with Blake down across the loft portion of the fourth floor- he can see down across the glass at some of the other levels, and it still blows his mind sometimes that everyone he can see works for him.

Blake is nattering on about the next fiscal year's budget- Daniel will pay attention to it when the paperwork is on his desk, and not a moment sooner. His eyes are bouncing around, landing on familiar and unfamiliar faces, older and experienced supervisors training the young blood.

His attention snags. There's someone across the walkway, half leaning over a desk and gesturing at something on a monitor. Daniel is more distracted at the way his slacks fit, hugging his thighs and narrowing into a waist that Daniel immediately wants to take a bite out of.

He's not sure when they started hiring pornstars.

"Blake- who is that? Over by Scarlett's desk."

Blake looks confused for a moment before his face lights up in recognition.

"Oh! That's Max- he's one of the interns for the year, and he's really good on the numbers end- kid's got a real solid brain in him. I was actually hoping to talk to you about him- he's my favorite intern I've ever had in the department, and I think he'd be really good full time."

Daniel thinks he'd be really good bent over the desk. All the way.

"Yeah, for sure man. Well bring him on board."

"Uh, Dan?"

Daniel's still walking, but he's pivoted his course, making his way over to Scarlett's desk. She and Max have their heads together- probably trying to actually do Daniel's company some good, honest work.

Daniel doesn't care.

There's more details as Daniel gets closer- Max has blonde hair, just on the side of too short around the back of his head, slightly longer at the top. It's gelled, which- they can fix that. If the women in the company don't break him of the habit, Daniel will just change the dress code.

His shoulders are broad under the white button up, which really adds to the waist thing he's got going on- Daniel wants to wrap his hands around him, see if it feels as perfect as it looks.

He's definitely not complaining about his back view though- Max has a cute ass. Daniel wants to put teeth marks in it.

Scarlett notices them approaching, straightening up.

"Daniel! Blake! This is Max, our finance and accounting intern for the year. Max, this is Daniel- you should know who he is, and Blake- you should also know who he is."

Max spins around, and Daniel wants to hire him on the spot. He's got a unique face- European of some kind, probably. He also has a perfect set of DSL's.

Max smiles, eyes scrunching up into little crescents. There's a freckle on his lip.

"Hello! Mr. Friend, it is of course nice to meet you again. It is nice to meet you as well, Mr. Ricciardo."

Oh, he has a lisp. They're definitely keeping him.

"Just Blake is fine, Max. Dan over here prefers his first name too- everything else is too stuffy. We're not that kind of workplace."

Daniel reaches out to shake Max's hand- he has long fingers, blunt squared off nails. No jewelry, and most importantly- no ring.

He flashes Max his best smile, and the kid goes a bit red, cheeks flushing as his eyes dart away for a moment.

Bingo. Point for Daniel.

Daniel likes the way he blushes, wonders how deep it can get, how far it can go.

"So Max- how do ya like working for the company?"

Daniel keeps his voice light, but his eyes are locked on Max. To his credit, Max doesn't look away again, holds his gaze as he starts talking.

"It is very nice! The teamwork is helpful, and everyone has been kind."

He talks with his hands, which reminds Daniel of the Italian side of his family- although with the accent, Max has got to be some kind of Northern European.

"Glad to hear it, Maxy."

Ding ding! Another point for Daniel.

Max goes red, stuttering over his words for a moment. Daniel drinks it in, the way Max is completely derailed, just at the nickname. He's cute.

Daniel gives him another smile as he starts walking away again- and then a lightning quick wink, just to see the way Max blinks, like a deer in headlights.

Blake lets them get out of earshot before he starts complaining.

"Dan, mate- do not fuck my intern, please. I want him to stick around."

Daniel's grinning, hands in his pockets. This day is going great.

"Relax, Blake. I'm not going to fuck your intern."

Blake eyes him suspiciously.

"Really? Because those are kind of your textbook steps on the way to getting laid."

Daniel whistles, thinking about the rest of the day. He'll cater lunch to the finance department, as a little treat. Make up some shit about good budgeting.

"I'm going to fuck my employee. There's a difference."

Blake stops in his tracks for a moment.

"Dan. You cannot seriously tell me you're going to poach one of the brightest minds to come through my department to get your dick wet man, come on."

Daniel shrugs.

"I'll let you give him some busywork- not too much though, I'll be keeping him occupied."

Blake rolls his eyes.

"Busy on his knees, maybe."

Daniel snaps his fingers, shooting him finger guns. This is why he likes Blake- he gets him.

"Exactly! I'm buying your department lunch, what do you guys like?"

"Oh sweet- there's this Greek place a couple blocks over-"

------

None of the other interns even stood a chance- Max is unofficially hired four months before the end of the internship period.

It doesn't look as biased as Daniel had wondered- Max really does stand out from the other interns in terms of the quality of his work, and he gets along well with the team.

It would be a shame Daniel isn't actually interested in that from him, if not for the way that he's just so cute. Daniel's a bit hedonistic, believes in having fun, and Max definitely looks like fun.

He's gone ahead and let Blake handle telling Max about his responsibilities shift- he's got some bullshit analytics job Daniel hadn't even known they had. The important thing is that it requires him to visit Daniel often. He normally hates being interrupted, but this is one he won't mind, not if it means getting to tease Max in the relative privacy of his office.

Now he just has to wait.

------

Max carefully flicks through his printed report. He's nervous- everyone has said Daniel is nice, but he also has a famous hatred for paperwork, and Max is about to dump some on his desk. He'd seemed friendly enough in the few moments he'd talked to Max, even if Max had thoroughly embarrassed himself, stumbling over his words and losing his train of thought.

He knows he's checked for typos a million times, but this final check is the most important. The new responsibilities on Max's plate aren't quite what he was doing before, but he's up for the challenge.

He checks the last page, satisfied, before tugging at the end of his shirt sleeves, hopes he looks presentable enough to be going to the top floor. He's never really gone higher than six- certainly has never had a need to go to eight, where Daniel's office is.

The elevator ride is quick, and Max is on the eighth floor sooner than he'd like.

He passes Blake's office on his way to Daniel's, who gives him a weird little half salute- odd, but most CFO's are.

Daniel's door is closed. Max had really been hoping it would be open- having to knock is stressing him out. He's not sure if Daniel is in a meeting, or has guests, or anything.

Surely his report can't be this important. Technically, his report should be able to go to Blake, but- that's none of Max's business.

He breathes out slow before he raises his fist and knocks, knuckles rapping firmly against the door.

There's a moment of silence during which Max assumes he's about to be fired- before he's even officially hired on, which would surely be some kind of office record.

"Come in."

Daniel's voice is clear, and Max pushes the door open, slips inside. Daniel is leaned back in his chair, one ankle crossed over his other knee. His suit jacket is open, and the first few buttons of his shirt are undone, showcasing his neck- long golden skin, the kind of tan Max could never manage.

"Hey, Maxy. Whatcha got for me?"

Max wills his fingers not to shake as he steps forward, shoes quiet in the plush flooring of Daniel's rug.

"I have- from the last quarter, the missing earnings report."

Daniel's eyes are... not on Max's face. He hopes he hasn't somehow spilled something on himself.

"Yeah?"

Max nods.

Daniel moves his mouse, minimizes his monitor screens before moving a stack of binders off of the side of his desk.

"Sit, tell me about it."

Max blinks, confused. There's no chair across from Daniel's desk- and he doesn't think he's being asked to sit on the floor.

"Sit..?"

Daniel nods at the space he's cleared on the desk, and Max's heart jumps into his throat- it feels inappropriate somehow, but Daniel is saying it's okay, so-

He's not quite tall enough, has to do a little hop braced on his hand to get up there, and one of Daniel's hands is hovering near his waist- maybe in case he falls.

Max clears his throat, tries to ignore the heat in his face.

"So, the materials department, and their quarterly budget-"

------

Daniel is very pleased with himself. Sure, Blake looks annoyed every time he has to bring his own chair with him to talk to Daniel, but it's a small price to pay for what Daniel gets in return.

He's been carefully inching the clear space on the desk closer to him- Max is so delightfully nervous about sitting on his desk, even two weeks after he'd made him do it the first time.

Daniel is taking things slow with him- slower than he normally would, but that's because he's been accused of playing with his food.

He can't help it- Max is too cute. The way he's just slightly too short, has to do a little hop, the way he squeezes his thighs together to try not to take up space- Daniel wants to take a bite out of him.

He's being patient.

It's especially delicate today- the space Daniel has cleared, the only available space on the desk- it's practically right in front of Daniel. He has his chair scooted back a bit, so that Max won't feel like he's directly in his lap, but- he might as well be.

He's looking forward to it, and if he's lucky Max will really go pink. Surely he notices when he's bright red, but he always powers through anyways.

Blake walks into his office, doesn't bother knocking- everyone else knows Daniel doesn't care for it, but he likes when Max does it.

He sighs, leaning his hip against the desk.

"Would you just fuck him already, please? He's a phenomenal worker Dan, I'd like to actually take advantage of that."

Daniel smiles at him.

"What, you don't want to sit on my desk and tell me that?"

Blake rolls his eyes, and he has the expression Daniel knows means he's begging for divine patience.

"You're toying with him, Dan."

Daniel shrugs, twisting a pen between his fingers, spinning it like a drumstick.

"Yeah babe, that's the point. He's cute like that- perfect little toy, I kind of want to wrap him in a bow. But I'm being patient, Blake, I thought you wanted me to work on that?"

Blake snorts, snatching the pen from Daniel's fingers.

"I meant that in terms of company growth and you know it. But I'll keep the ribbon thing in mind for the office Christmas party, how's that?"

"You do love me!"

------

Max straightens his stack of papers. He's got another report ready, and he's splashed cold water on his face, a reminder that Daniel is his boss- his boss boss, the CEO. Just because he's terribly attractive doesn't mean Max gets to drool over him.

Not to mention- he's so busy there's almost never space on the desk, so Max is probably just a passing blip in his day, barely noticeable.

The elevator dings as the doors slide open, and Max gives Blake a small wave as he passes by his office door. He's not sure what's endeared him to Blake, but the CFO treats him somewhat fondly, in a way that's almost demeaning. Max can't figure it out.

Blake waves back anyways, and then Max is knocking on Daniel's door again.

A beat of silence, and then Daniel is calling him in, but he has a finger pressed to his lips when Max slips inside, and Max freezes. There's voices from one of Daniel's monitors, and Max moves back towards the door, only for Daniel to snap his fingers at him.

Max looks back over and Daniel gestures at his desk, moving his mouse for a moment.

"C'mere, it's fine- I'm almost done."

There's not- Max looks for his usual space by the corner, but it's messy again, the only space is along the edge right in the middle, directly in front of Daniel.

Surely Daniel doesn't mean...

Daniel quirks an eyebrow and Max shoves the doubt down, carefully hopping up onto the desk. Daniel's camera doesn't look like it's on, thankfully, but he's afraid to even breathe as they all exchange their goodbyes.

Daniel chimes in with his own, and then he's leaning forward, chest between Max's knees as he reaches past him to fiddle with the speakers, one palm pressing on Max's thigh to support himself.

Max feels the heat of his palm like a brand. He's frozen still- his face has to be bright red, there's no way it isn't. He fights not to squeeze his thighs together, ignores the warmth starting to pool in his gut.

Daniel just wants to talk about quarter reports.

More like listen to Max talk about quarter reports, but the point remains the same.

Daniel gives Max's thigh a little pat as he leans back, grinning at him.

"Sorry about that babe, meeting went long. What do you have for me?"

Max swallows, tries to pull himself back together.

"So I noticed in the fiscal budget for 2016 a few years ago..."

[monosanimegenericzone]

Hunter x Hunter: Being bitched by a dude half your age

okay so can we talk about these two

and i cannot stop laughing how silva fucking zoldyck. in his prime at something like 42. getting his shit absolutely rocked by a "tee hee im not a teenager anymore" chrollo.

anyway. this is a breakapart analysis of how chrollo bitched him for a second time in the fight in yorknew.

side note: omg look its shalnark hiii

anyway

yap ahead. it got really long so proceed at your own risk

so the yorknew fight starts with the two zoldycks walking in on chrollo after tracking him down as fast as possible. and i mean as fast as possible. yes zeno probably could have used his 100m En to flash scan the whole building, but to parse out information from that- considering zeno has never met chrollo- would be pretty much impossible.

plus they had to deal with mafia grunts being idiots.

this is also a viable strategy. if chrollo was a pussy, he could have easily jumped out of a higher story window.

at this point neither the reader nor the zoldycks know what chrollo is doing in the building. they know the merchandise is intact and that they lost contact with 8 assassins so far, that's it.

we find out later that chrollo was playing for time, so if illumi was taking his sweet ass time taking out the 10 dons chrollo could have easily led the two zoldycks on a wild goose chase, but no, he's waiting for them.

getting into speculation territory. we don't know how long the fight actually lasted. the animated fight lasted like an episode and a half, but in hxh, time is irrelevant. the fight could have been 20 seconds tops.

minor point but- slightly relevant.

chrollo probably wanted to wipe out the assassins before making his next move and i cannot tell if he knew it was the zoldycks or not. again, him and zeno have never met, so even if zeno used En, chrollo would have no idea it's him.

point is. chrollo was waiting for the assassins to come to him. he wouldn't waste the time looking for them, so he wasn't even trying to hide as he just. casually meandered up the cemetery building.

but as soon as chrollo sees who it is his face does the iconic dark shadow. that- imma be honest- 2011 did him so dirty with.

for reference. he greets the other assassin like this

dawg is not playing

im giggling bcs its one of those "you can see the exact moment when he locked in" type things. its so funny

now this next part i will just present as a silly moment

but chrollo literally pulled a knife just to shank silva specifically. the grudge here is so real

how petty are you that you're trying to shank the guy and not his dad. this is so disrespectful

(satire)

anyway.

zeno earns chrollo's respect by being an actually seasoned fighter and able to break chrollo down for all he's worth.

those are eyes alright.

chrollo knows that silva is not going to attack him directly anymore, but he will have to keep silva in sight so that he never gets an opening.

chrollo is playing for time.

and- i did not notice this before-

ZENO FIGURED THAT OUT TOO.

THIS OLD MAN IS TOO OP. EXCUSE ME.

i can skip the rest of this fight otherwise i'll be here for 5 years glazing zeno for being the goat he is.

but chrollo's plan was to capture zeno alive. he can't secure abilities otherwise, and we assume fun fun cloth is inescapable once closed.

now picture this for a second. chrollo knows what silva's hatsu is most likely. and if he wanted to, he could have captured silva and gotten a hatsu out of him easily. silva is poisoned, slower than zeno, and the less obvious threat.

but no.

chrollo is more interested in zeno because silva is not worthy of his respect. even if silva had a really useful hatsu, i doubt chrollo would want anything to do with him. he won't even look at silva if he can help it.

also i realized that they were fighting in the basement. j'accuse.

but the really juicy part is what happens after the fight.

so i have a theory.

what if silva didn't know who illumi got a contract from. that would be the best troll ive ever seen out of chrollo in the history of ever

consider: chrollo knows about silva's warning to his kids. he and illumi have known each other for a long time, and because silva fought chrollo at least 3 years ago, i think it's reasonable to assume that chrollo and illumi already knew each other by then.

obviously we don't know for sure, but for my delusion let's go with that.

illumi is suddenly harder to reach, so chrollo tracks him down and illumi being illumi was just like "yeah dad said not to hang out with you anymore" so, chrollo, who knows illumi is a good asset, is like "bitch you aint going anywhere. imma pay you just to hang out. stick it to your old man"

so with that in mind. illumi ringing in asking for his client- who isn't zeno nor silva- and silva realizing in 0.2 seconds that it's chrollo. the immense fatherly sigh that woulda left his old ass man would have been fucking hilarious.

(based on textual evidence i dont think this is canon but its still too funny)

regardless, it's proof that illumi has either gone behind silva's back or got his reluctant permission. assuming the 'no phantom troupe' rule still applies at this time

"JUST BARELY"

SILVA BE FOR REAL I SWEAR TO GOD XDDDD

"JUST BARELY" ALIVE MY ASS.

anyway. real disrespect is chrollo only speaking to zeno. like zeno and chrollo are best buddies after going toe to toe for like 2 minutes and chrollo clearly respects zeno.

but here

right here

THIS RIGHT HERE. THE DISRESPECT IS ABSURD.

chrollo asked this question on purpose.

notice how silva isn't even in that question. SILVA IS NOT A THREAT TO CHROLLO.

AND WHAT'S WORSE.

ZENO CONFIRMED. INDIRECTLY. THAT CHROLLO COULD WIN THAT 1V1. IN FRONT OF HIS POMPOUS ASS CAT EYED SON.

LIKE LOOK AT HOW SILVA LOOKS AT CHROLLO.

HE'S SO MAD AND HE CAN DO FUCKING N O T H I N G

CHROLLO JUST BITCHED SILVA WITHOUT EVEN SAYING A WORD TO HIM, BY DEMONSTRATING THAT HE HAS CONNECTIONS TO AND CAN KILL EVERYONE SILVA RESPECTS IN THE FAMILY.

and chrollo is satisfied. he's done. he's out.

bro hit the deck waiting for his pals to show up.

and we know how pissed he was at the beginning of the fight. to be able to let it go like this- because chrollo's ass petty as hell-- he would not let it go-- means he KNOWS he made silva look like a bitch.

AND GOD DAMN. HE'S RIGHT.

thats my rant for the day. tata

[mythalism]

i think, anecdotally, canadians love to use land acknowledgments and Diversity(tm) a bit more than americans do, and have a degree of always pointing at the us and being like "well at least WE didn't do anything that fucked up! we're so much more enlightened and respectful 😌". and so any acknowledgment that racism exists, or that necessary societal change is often only brought by unpleasant disruption, or specifically that indigenous people live in terrible conditions because of colonization, is bracketed with this type of "but it's very complicated, and who's to say if there's a solution? we're thinking about it really hard, and holding space, and listening and learning, and maybe we will get to fixing it in like 50 years if people ask nicely" rhetoric. and there's a degree of apprehension that "land back" is a call for ethnic cleansing of settlers (somehow, despite this being both physically not possible and not actually anyone's demand) and that any movement towards that will be bad and overly radical.

which maps directly onto how bioware writes elves specifically haha. they'll sympathetically show how they're oppressed and living under the boot of a catholic church-esque entity, but then... ahhh noo, actually they had a very problematic pre-colonization culture, and they're too impractically fixated on the past and that prevents them from moving forward, and the church employees are sometimes trying their best and making amends, and the demands of the elven leadership are just too out there and violent... so really, it's very complicated. maybe it could be better to keep the status quo and only have Incremental Change, forever.

(they sort of didn't do this in the masked empire, but as always they had to throw in a bit about how Rude And Mean the dalish are. plus the ridiculously evil chevalier lore of each one randomly executing a few elves as a rite of passage, and then never mentioning that aspect again bc i guess it wasn't relevant to michel's story. as well as the insanely underwritten premise of what briala and celene's relationship actually was. there's ~toxic lesbians~, and then there's "extremely rich and powerful white noblewoman calls her younger servant class gf ugly for being dark skinned, lies to her for years, has her family and then entire community killed, then tries to seduce her back when she gets angry and leaves" lmao. i think weekes was going for a tragic morally grey starcrossed lovers to enemies vibe, but to me it was more of a horrific one-sided exploitation that the author did not seem to realize they were writing.)

and in veilguard i suppose they tried to avoid the entire issue by mostly removing those aspects of the setting, so you no longer even have the somewhat well-observed depictions of oppression combined with Justin Trudeau Moments, it's just kind of empty.

anyway thank you for appreciating my very long ted talk! i left tumblr after the whole "popular bloggers mass reporting pro-palestine people for terrorism" thing (i can get that treatment for free irl, don't need that extra stress from the Fandom Webbed Site haha). i've just been drifting back to look at dragon age posts bc i was curious about veilguard. i didn't expect much from bioware but it was surprising that they just went even further into tone-deaf bizarre race allegories rather than reading 1 (one) nonfiction book in the years since dai, or hiring anybody from a different background who could weigh in. :')

wow this is seriously so fascinating and insightful and truly does give me a better understanding of both canada and bioware LMFAO so thank you so much for sharing seriously. you are welcome in my inbox for more ted talks anytime and now im just gonna leave this here to marinate on it further and hope other people read it because its fantastic. xoxo

[arolesbianism]

I found some more old eternal gales art today and it was bizarre in many ways but truly the most bizarre thing is how much joy and whimsy I gave Looser in this doodle. Why does he look so genuinely happy that's not allowed

[hiddenzev]

Take A Shot : Chapter 1 [ Kick Off ]

Pairing: Joel Miller x soccer player f!reader

Chapter Summary: You return to your hometown where your history with Joel started.

Chapter Warnings --- no beta, fluff, light angst, Idiots in Love, childhood friends

WC: 7.7k

series masterlist, AO3

A/N: Finally another fic is out! I've been busyyy and I know this is not going to be a consistent updating as my previous fic but I will try my best because this was more fun to write. Also, my favourite football (soccer) team is not performing well since a few weeks ago and it's been depressing yall...im not okay...fuckkk Hope yall enjoy this one even tho yall may not be soccer fans.

— May 2024 —

"Dad! Let's go!" 

9-year-old Sarah stood by the truck, waiting for her dad to get out of the house. She tapped her foot restlessly, annoyed that Joel was taking longer than expected to get ready to go. She was excited to watch her favourite soccer team, Austin Violet Football Club, play the first game of the new season. She was dressed in the home jersey and shorts, pairing them with the team's scarf around her neck, hair styled as space buns with the help of Joel. The club director invited her to watch the game after signing a 2-year contract for the Austin Violet Football Academy—a part of the Austin Violet FC consisting of both men and women. 

Sarah was an aspiring soccer player. She fell in love with the game at 6, when her great-grandmother played it on TV while she was babysitting her. Since then, she had been going on and on about soccer, and Joel signed her up for a youth soccer club nearby that honed her soccer skills to be selected for Austin Violet Football Academy. It was the most ecstatic she had ever felt in her 9 years of a lifetime when Joel told her that she was selected to join the youth academy. Nothing could compare to the endearment in his heart when he witnessed Sarah explode with joy. 

"The game ain't going nowhere, baby girl. We still got time." Joel said over his shoulder as he locked the door. 

Sarah groaned loudly, exasperated, seeing her dad taking the whole time in the world as if he were doing it intentionally. Her shoulders slumped forward, the AVFC scarf around her neck swaying slightly at both ends to her movement. With keys dangling in his hand, he opened the passenger door for Sarah, and she side-eyed him before climbing into her seat, complaining under her breath. Joel sighed heavily, having to deal with her daughter's attitude again. 

-----

The Violet Crown Football Stadium was almost packed with thousands of supporters from the home and away teams. Everyone was hyped with the anticipation of the first game, chanting endlessly, as loud as they could. The setting sun painted the field orange mixed with the green grass, blanketing it with warmth. The smell of summer is swaying to the beat of the surrounding air. Sarah looked around in awe, watching the fans around her cheering for the team. She could not help the smile appearing on her face as she immersed herself in the moment. 

They were seated in the suites section, which was where other VIPs, players not in the squad, players' family members, or other relevant individuals were seated. The suites were at the middle level, where the game could be clearly viewed. While Sarah was busy scanning everything around her, Joel was on his phone, talking to Tommy about work.

Even though Joel was supportive of her passion for soccer, he did not take the time to be fully invested in AVFC. He knew the rules of the game and only of her favourite player at the time, Kiara King, the striker for Austin Violet women's team. He supported the team in his own way. Without Sarah's love for soccer, he would not have watched soccer but be indulged in baseball instead. There were underlying emotions and memories stuck deep inside him that he did not want to resurface again whenever soccer came to mind.

"Enough about work; Sarah must be real excited about the game," Tommy said.

"Tell me about it," Joel sighed. "She was rushing me until we got in the stadium today." 

Joel turned his head to look at Sarah, whose eyes were sparkling with admiration as she watched the players walk out of the tunnel. The whole stadium roared with claps and howling cheers. It was getting harder to hear Tommy through the phone, with the loud noises filling the stadium. 

"I know you don't follow the team that much but they signed a new player at the end of the summer break," Tommy updated him with the news.

"Oh, really?" Joel said in a disinterested voice as he looked down on the field. Due to the distance, he could not see the players' faces.

The display screen started to show each player of the home team while the announcer introduced them one by one, starting with the goalkeeper and slowly progressing to the attackers. The stadium erupted with cheers for each of the players that had been introduced.

"You won't believe who their new signing is," Tommy's voice sounded distorted in Joel's ear.

"I'll call you back later! I cannot hear you right now! The game is starting already. Bye!" Joel shouted into his phone before ending the call without waiting for Tommy's response.

Sarah stood in her seat, jumping up and down, shouting excitedly with the rest of the supporters while Joel stared at her lovingly. The announcer started to announce the midfielders and the name he had long forgotten blasted through the stadium speakers, catching his attention back to the screen and confirming his doubts. 

There you were, waving to the crowd that welcomed you with big arms and a smile on your face. The smile that played a significant role in his childhood was now back in town. He was confused with the longing he did not expect to feel as he looked at you, guilt on his face. Suddenly, the noises around the stadium died down—muffled in his ears—the long lost memories with you that he continuously tried to lock away flooded his head. He could not erase the image of you, eyes brimming with tears as you turned to leave him 12 years ago. Out of his life. Now, you were back to haunt him.

"Dad! Look! She's wearing my number!" Sarah shook him out of his thoughts, pointing at your jersey number—20–the same as her birthdate. 

What kind of a sick game is the universe playing with him, seeing the coincidence of you wearing Sarah's favourite number on your back.

-----

23 years ago, your family moved from Dallas to Austin due to your father's job, and moving into a new home brought you a lot of emotions. You were excited to live somewhere new but also sad to be unable to be with your friends anymore.

It was the first day of school. You were sitting at your table, waiting for someone to sit beside you as your table partner. The kids in the class looked wary as they came in, not knowing what to expect for the first day. A few kids had reddish eyes because they were crying and were not emotionally ready for 1st grade. You were not one of them. 

Your father had already trained you to be tough from the get-go. He was teaching you soccer right when you started learning to walk. Little did you know, he did it to live his dream through yours. He was the definition of tough love. He did not go easy on you during his home training. Sometimes, losing his patience, hurling insults and hitting you, but you took everything like a champ because if not, the anger in him would be thrown toward your mom. 

Growing up, you witnessed the treatment that your mom got from him. You got in between them most of the time, wrapping your body around your mom to protect her, but what can a small and frail kid like you could do compared to the tall and big figure of your father? 

"Hi! I'm Joel. What's your name?"

A voice beside you brought your mind back to the classroom. You turned your head to find a boy with a smile that could light the whole classroom brighter than it already was. His hand is out towards you, expecting a handshake.

"Hi, Joel." You replied, taking his hand as you gave him your name.

"That's a pretty name," he said, his dimples on display as he smiled, which rendered you speechless. Your heart stopped for a beat at that moment, and it felt very strange because it was the first time you had felt that way, especially by a boy. 

"Thank you." You thanked him with a shy smile sent his way. 

From then on, the two of you were inseparable. He followed you everywhere you went, and you did not mind him at all, enjoying his company. He talked to you about everything, be it his favourite TV show, his favourite animal, or even his embarrassing moments. He was not afraid to tell you about his grandma, who was taking care of him and his baby brother once his mom left after their dad's death the previous year.

You saw his forlorn eyes as he told you the story. You empathised with the amount of hurt in his voice as you listened. In return, you confided in him about your parents. About how strict your father was towards you and how it pained you to see your mother's suffering, not being able to stand up for herself. 

You were surprised when he pressed himself against you, arms circling your body. He was hugging you, and you learned that it was his way of comforting not just you but himself as well.

The two of you bonded through the traumas and the amount of time you spent together during and after school. Although, most days after school, you couldn't play with him and the other neighbourhood kids due to your father's intense training sessions, he always filled you in on the things you missed. He always welcomed you like no other kid does. He did not judge you because of the circumstances that you were living in. 

Even though he lived at the other end of the street, he would cycle past your house just to see how your training was going in your front yard. Your father had noticed him cycling past a couple of times, but he did not say a word; he only sent his hardened glares towards Joel, which the brave 7-year-old did not cower away from.

There were times when you got distracted by Joel, which resulted in you receiving harsh punishments for not focusing on your training. Tears formed in your eyes from the pain in your body whilst you carried on with the punishments, but that didn't stop you from secretly waving at Joel as he passed by, smiling at you. 

On days without training, you joined Joel and the other kids cycling and exploring the neighbourhood. Not afraid to get dirty, you found yourself rolling around in the grass field as you looked at the boys who were playing fights or flying kites. Joel never left your side—always making sure you were taken care of, not wanting you to get in trouble with your father if you got injured while messing around. 

Sometimes, he can be too much about the little things—constantly wiping dirt off your face and other parts of your body as if you are not used to it, trying to carry you when you were perfectly fine with walking, or even worse, covering your ears whenever the boys said a bad word which didn't even come close to what you have already heard from your father. You were an independent kid, so you were annoyed when Joel started to treat you like a baby, but you didn't call him out on it, knowing that was just his big brother instincts. 

You shared everything about school with your mom whenever you reached home. It was the only time you could comfortably talk with her without Dad's presence in the house. She would coo when you told her about the things Joel did for you, finding it sweet that there's a kind boy out there taking care of you. You complained to her about how Joel was treating you like a baby, thinking she would take your side, but you found her laughing softly at your annoyance. 

"I like Joel. He sounds like a good friend, " your mom said softly, caressing your head.

"He is." You nodded your head, looking at her with your big round eyes.

"I'm happy you found a good friend, bubba." She kisses the crown of your head, lips lingering there for a while.

"He found me first, mama." You innocently corrected her, and she just smiled to herself, hugging you tight.

-----

— June 2024 —

Players were lined up in the tunnel, getting ready to get out to the field for the match. According to the positions you play, you were standing in the middle of your team's line, shaking your limbs to rid the nerves away. Each player was allocated a child mascot to walk to the field. There was a girl around the height of your chest, standing beside you. You noticed her staring at you with admiration in her big, round eyes. You instinctively smiled as you bent down to meet her eyes. 

"Hi! What's your name?" you asked her in a higher-pitched voice, similar to that you used when talking to kids. 

"Sarah," She meekly replied with a bashful smile, still maintaining eye contact with you.

Her smile reminded you of someone, but you could not put a face on it. You ignored the thoughts of her looking familiar to you for some reason.

"Is this your first time being a mascot?" 

"Yes," Biting her lip out of being scared. 

"You don't have to be nervous, okay? You got me." You reassured her, seeing how nervous she looked. 

She nodded her head slowly, trusting you with your words.

"I like your hair, Sarah. It's pretty." Pointing at her space buns as you compliment her, trying to distract her from her overwhelming feelings. 

"Thank you. My dad helped me with it." Her eyes widened. She tilted her head towards you to show the work of art her father had created. 

"Your dad?! Wow! He did a pretty good job." Your smile grew wider, and you adored how she was bragging about it. 

The image of your father crept up in your mind. You cannot help but compare your father to hers. From just hearing that Sarah's father did her hair, you knew that he must be a wonderful dad to her. He definitely adores her so much, even to master the hairstyles for his daughter. 

Meanwhile, your father was still psychologically and emotionally abusing you at 30. You were glad to be able to make it to pro, leaving the house, away from his grasp. He will call you after every game—whether your team loses or wins—he will criticise your mistakes. Not once has he said that he was happy and proud of you despite your achievements. After some time, you don't even expect or want to hear that from him. There were times you purposefully ignored his calls, but a few hours later, your mom would be calling as she sobbed, begging you to just listen to what he had to say. 

After you left Austin at 18, you told your mom that you would do whatever it took to let her be free from your father. However, she insisted that she loved him too much and could not bear to leave him alone, knowing he would suffer from the fallout. You get that he is the love of her life, but it hurts so much to see the relationship infested with so much toxicity that she thinks it's better to hold on to it instead of letting go. 

"Does your dad do your hair, too?" Sarah pointed at your hair, which you had braided.

"No, I did it myself. Is it nice?" You let her touch your hair as you answered her.

"It's so beautiful!" She adoringly exclaimed.

"Aw, thank you!" 

You heard the shuffling of the players at the front of the line, starting to move out of the tunnel. 

You held out your hand for Sarah to take. "Are you ready to make your dad proud?" You raised your eyebrows expectantly.

She nodded her head vigorously, moving along by your side. The cheering slowly got louder as you walked out, and when you finally stepped into the field, you felt Sarah's hand gripping you tighter. You placed your other hand on hers, caging her hand between both of yours to let her know that you were there with her. You know it's not easy for a kid to walk out to a full stadium that is overwhelming with shouting and cheering. 

Eventually, everyone was lined up perfectly, side by side, facing the cameras. The children were standing in front of the players, and you placed your hands on Sarah's shoulders, ensuring she was okay. You noticed her looking up towards the suites section when you followed her gaze. She was probably looking at her father, you thought. However, there were so many faces everywhere that you could not search for and focus on just one person. Hell, you did not even know what her father looked like. 

After shaking hands with the opponent team, Sarah and the other kids had to return to the tunnel. Before she went off, she turned to hug you.

"Thank you!" she said while her cheek was pressed in your chest. Her eyes closed as she embraced the moment. You wrapped your arms around her shoulders, swaying her from side to side. 

"Well, aren't you our lucky charm? Just watch because we're gonna win this game for sure."

She grinned from ear to ear, slowly letting go of you. Ugh, it's annoying that she looked so much like someone you know, but you don't know who exactly it was. 

"See you around, you lil angel" You pinched her cheeks before returning to your starting position.

Sarah must have been your lucky charm because your team won that game. Since then, she has always been in your mind whenever you stand in the tunnel before a game. She had quite an impact on you. You never figured out why she looked familiar to you until the day you met her again.

-----

Joel and Sarah were walking hand in hand through the hospital corridor, the unmistakable sterile scent present in the space weighing heavily on their shoulders. The floor was quieter than usual—visiting hours were finishing in a few hours. Sarah was still in her soccer fit from earlier training while her bag was swaying along on Joel's shoulder. Trudging into the wardroom at the end of the hall, Joel let go of Sarah's hand, who ran inside as soon as she saw her great grandma, Nana.

"Nana!" She shouted, rushing towards the bed. 

"Look who it is! My bunny!" Nana excitedly opened her arms, waiting for Sarah's hug.

They stayed embracing each other for a period of time—Sarah pressed her cheek on Nana's shoulder while Nana slowly stroked the back of Sarah's head. Joel witnessed the moment that had been a usual occurrence for him recently.

The first time when he got the call from Tommy on the day Nana was admitted to the hospital, he had almost forgotten how to breathe. His stomach plummeted to the ground-hearing the trembling in Tommy's voice saying Nana could have died if he had been late to come back home from work. He did not know how he got to the hospital with Sarah when his head was clouded with worry. He carried Sarah on his back when they got out of the car and went inside as fast as possible.

It was as if someone had ripped his heart out and left him to bleed out alone when his gaze landed on Nana's lying form on the bed with tubes sticking to her body. Nana was his grandma who literally raised both of the Miller brothers—single-handedly—after her daughter left them in her care. So, to see the person who was very dear to him go through something that horrible—heart failure—altered something deep in him for a while. 

It had been a week since she was admitted, and Joel was still processing that. This was the second time she had to go to the hospital because her condition seemed to worsen over time. He knew he had to prepare for the worst scenario sooner or later, but he was still in denial about it all—he didn't want to let go of his constant. In a way, he didn't want to face his abandonment issues from the women in his life—his mom, you and Talia.

"How are you, Nana?" 

"Never been better." Nana gave Sarah a cheeky wink.

"I saw you on TV yesterday. I'm so proud of you, bunny." Nana leaned in to kiss Sarah on the crown of her head. 

"Did you see her? She was standing with me." Sarah was elated to share her experience as a child mascot with you.

"I did! Did you talk to her?" Nana asked.

"She was so nice, Nana. I like her. I think she's my favourite player now." Sarah's eyes were dreamy as she gushed about you to her great-grandma.

"C'mon now, you change your favourite player every month." Nana's voice was flat as she rolled her eyes jokingly at Sarah

"No I don't," Sarah argued, lying through her teeth. Nana was speaking the truth. Sarah changed her favourite player almost every month according to her mood, but this time it was different. To be physically in the presence of the team and the good impression that you made on her struck a chord in her to choose you as her number one player no matter what.

"Whatever you say, bunny." 

Joel was already sitting beside the bed, listening to his daughter talk about his childhood best friend. For the past 12 years, he had reflected on what had happened throughout high school. It was a terrible experience for him when he looked back on it—chasing popularity, peer pressure, toxic masculinity, and, for the worst part, leaving you alone in your misery when you needed him the most. His apology was long overdue, and he thought he had already lost the chance to speak to you until you returned.

"Can I tell you a secret?" Nana lowered her voice, which made Sarah lean in slightly, curious about the secret. "I've met her as a kid before." This fact made Sarah part her lips in shock, and her eyebrows shot up fast to her forehead. 

"Really?" Sarah's voice was barely louder than a whisper while she stared at Nana.

"Nana—"Joel spoke for the first time to interrupt Nana. He was slightly afraid to let his past and current life crash, not knowing how to handle it if it came to light. 

"She is a friend of your father." Nana ignored his warning and continued to tell Sarah the facts about the past.

"She is? You didn't tell me."  Sarah swiftly turned around to Joel, furrowing her brows, feeling slightly betrayed that her father had known you personally all this while and kept it a secret. 

Joel gave Nana an annoyed look, disappointed that she told Sarah about his connection with you. His jaw tensed before he opened his mouth to explain himself.

"That was a long time ago. We are not friends anymore." That was the best he could say, and he could tell from Nana's expression that she was disappointed in him as she recalled the time she had heard what had happened to you. 

"What happened?" Sarah questioned him, paying full attention to him, hearing the story for the first time.

"She left Austin to play professional soccer, and we didn't talk anymore." He shrugged his shoulders as he explained to Sarah in the simplest terms. If it was laid out on the table, the truth was that he fucked up. He did not want Sarah to know that because he wouldn't be able to handle his daughter's disappointment in him. 

"Was she a nice person back then, too?" Her big round eyes were still lit with curiosity as she learned new facts about her favourite player.

Joel reminisced about the time he spent knowing you with a longing look in his face. His eyes looked out the window by the bed, absentmindedly, as your face came into his mind, hitting him with all kinds of emotions. Your petite hands were in his as the two of you walked together after school, the soft glow on your face from the warm sunlight and your hair flowing tenderly with the breeze. 

"She was," he whispered. A slight curl on one side of his mouth appeared that was not unnoticed by Nana. She had been holding on to the hope that the both of you would make amends someday, and it warmed her heart that the time had finally come closer for it. She missed you a lot. You were like her granddaughter that she never had, not like her mischievous grandsons that gave her headaches. You brought a different kind of joy to her life, and when you told her that you had to leave, both of you were crying in each other's arms. She knew she did not have much time left in this world, and she hoped it wouldn’t be too late to see you again.

-----

— July 2024 —

"You know the drill, right? Just interact with the kids. Watch how they play, give them some advice, and remember to smile. The cameras will follow you around during the shoot." The team's social media manager, Emma, briefed you again as you came into the facility centre to prepare yourself for the shoot.

Filming with kids has always been your favourite. It allows you to stay in touch with your roots and serves as a reminder that there are kids who look up to you, so you have to always set a good example for them. 

"I heard that their parents are here too?" You looked at Emma for confirmation.

"Yes. They are sitting in the stands. It will be a surprise appearance for them as well. After the filming, you will take pictures with the players and their families. Got it?"

"Okay, got it."

You got mic'd up while the filming crew settled everything else. Once they were set, you moved quietly to the training field where the young academy players were having a small match amongst themselves. It stroked a sense of nostalgia in you, seeing them running and kicking with their little limbs. Your heart warmed with the memories of you being in a young girl's team, dreaming of being a soccer star.

You heard some murmuring when you walked past the stands where the parents were, but your focus was fixed on the young players. Walking faster as you neared the sideline, one of the girls spotted you and squealed, causing them to stop their actions. 

You continued walking towards where the coaches were standing, trying to hide the excitement on your face.

Some of them gasped, covering their mouths, not believing that the first team player had come to watch them. 

"Come on, girls! Keep playing!" You clapped your hands, signalling to them to continue playing. 

They looked at each other with smiles still stuck on their faces as they slowly moved their bodies again.

You shook hands with the academy team coaches and manager, who were also glad to see you. They talked to you about the players and the drills they went through, so you got the gist of how they ran things. You did a quick scan of all the players, and one of them stood up to you. That player was Sarah. It had been a few weeks since you met her, and you thought about her more than you know. You were enamoured by her innocence that you don't experience in your daily adult life. Wearing the same hairstyle, the blurry mystery face you cannot put together to match her face appeared in your head. 

Sarah was playing as the right winger. You were impressed with her movements, especially for someone that young. Both of her feet were well balanced; one leg was not significantly stronger than the other, which meant that she had more of an advantage in her dribbling skills. Her focus on the ball once she got the ball controlled was unwavering, and she was not afraid to take her chances at shooting. You saw the massive potential of a player in her and hoped to see her grow as time went by.

As the game continued, you tried your best to watch the other girls, but your eyes followed Sarah. Compared to the rest, she was significantly versatile—being able to defend as well as her attacking skills. Unbeknownst to you, she was slowly gaining your heart even though you had only met her once.

After the game ended, the girls sat together for debriefing; exhaustion was evident on their faces flushed, strands of hair sticking to their sweaty faces, and eyes fixed on the grass below them. The team's manager and coaches said a few words before letting you take the stage. When it was your turn, the girls turned their heads to you as if they forgot you were there momentarily. Having their full attention, you started talking.

"What do y'all feel about the game?" You asked them. 

"Bad." One of the players in the front spoke up, and you later found out that her name was Ellie. 

"Why do you feel that way?" You raised an eyebrow at her, not expecting the quick acknowledgement of your question. 

"Because Sarah overtook me a few times, and that means I sucked at defending today." Her eyebrows furrowed as she explained—displeased with her own mistakes. 

"We all make mistakes sometimes; of course, we feel disappointed when they happen. Even a professional player—like me—makes them. But the mistake is what make us strive to be better. We reflect on it and improve from there." You explained to all of them.

 "And the fact that you are aware of your own mistakes tells me that you are one step closer to being a better player than you were before." You smiled reassuringly to Ellie, liking her boldness in speaking her mind. 

It's ironic that when you were around their age, you were very critical of your own performance—beating yourself up over something so small because you knew your father would never let it go. You never come around to look at things positively until you meet the other professional players—who became your good friends—during your career. 

"Now, tell me what you did good in the game?" You squatted down to be at the same eye level as Ellie. 

Ellie opened her mouth but closed it instantly, unable to think of an answer. Her eyes darting around, away from making eye contact with you. 

"You've had a couple of good long passes to the forwards, and your tackling form is pretty great,"

"Really?" She said softly—not believing what you said. 

"Absolutely! Why would I lie?" Cocking your head to the side, with one brow raised. 

Her cheeks raised slightly, tugging the corners of her mouth into a small smile that she tried to hide from you. 

You spent another 20 minutes answering the girls' questions—how you first started soccer, how you recovered from your bad injury, and even what boots you wore for your games. You took a group photo together before they dispersed to their parents, waiting for you to take pictures with each family. 

You were already halfway done with the team when you spotted Sarah among those in the queue, and you noticed two men standing by her, but it was a quick glance before you were able to take a long look at their faces. The line of players you were taking photos with kept moving slowly as you took your time to get to know each of them properly. 

Once you said goodbye to one of the girls, you saw a small figure rushing towards you in the corner of your eyes. As soon as you turned back around, you felt a pair of arms encasing your waist. You looked down and recognised the same space buns that Sarah had when she was one of the child mascots. She looked up at you, chin resting on your stomach while she portrayed a big grin. You cannot help the adoration that came into view on your face while you hugged her back. 

"Hi, lil angel!" 

"You remember me!" She looked with a mix of surprise and joy on her face.

"How could I forget our lucky charm with this pretty face?" Sarah stared at you with her big, round eyes sparkling with so much admiration that you almost felt guilty for being the subject of that look.

Her grip on you loosened when she turned around, gesturing for-you assumed-her family members to come closer.

"Come and say hi!" She moved away from you to let the two men near you.

Maybe it's the athlete in you that made your eyes move towards their physique first. You noticed they were both almost the same height, taller than you by a couple of inches. Their toned muscles, which were on display for you, seemed to be earned from hard labour instead of the gym. Catching you, scanning their bodies, one of them cleared their throat, making you shift your focus towards him. 

He looked way younger than you—clean-shaven with curly, medium-length hair, passing his ears. You sensed that he had an easygoing and friendly demeanour when he introduced himself.

"Hey, how r' ya?" He sounded nervous but still was able to confidently reach out to shake your hand, with an unexplainable look on his face. 

You returned the handshake with, "Hi, nice to meet you." You cocked your head slightly to the side, sensing the weird awkwardness coming from him. 

You pulled back and looked at him for a moment before glancing at the other man who was standing beside him. You had to do a double take when your gaze landed on that man for a few seconds longer. Your heart suddenly picked up its speed from the recognition. Unexpectedly, a face vaguely reminiscent of your time back in Austin was here. 

Joel fucking Miller—the reason for your happiness in Austin, but he was also the one that injected bitterness in your heart in the last few years in it. 

His face was different than the one you tried to erase 12 years ago, to no avail; you didn't succeed. Time clearly had worn out his face a little bit—the clean-shaven face back then had been filled with scruffy facial hair, creases on the forehead, and noticeable crow's feet by his eyes. Even so, it only enhanced his features to be more attractive than he already was before. 

Joel could not maintain eye contact with you like he used to. You noticed his tensed jaw and darting eyes towards everywhere else except you. He seemed like he wanted to hide in a hole somewhere. Seeing him not in the slightest bit happy to see you again stung you a little. You could not blame him for how he was acting, knowing how bad things were left between you. 

You had long moved past it after going to therapy. As time went by, you saw things from a different perspective, in a more mature way, to understand his position at the time. You took the fact that you won't see him again and did your own healing by trying to forgive him for his immaturity back in the day on your own terms since you were not able to talk openly with him.

Now, he was standing before you, and somehow, you felt relieved to see him after all those years.  

"Do you recognise me?" The younger man asked you, giving an expectant smile as he waited for you.

You turned your head back to him, still speechless from seeing Joel. He could only be that one person. 

"Tommy?" You asked with one brow raised at him.

"Oh! I thought you wouldn't remember my name!" His jaw dropped, and he slowly crept up to a broad smile, a result of the fact that you remembered his name. His hands were rested on his chest from the shock.

"Of course, I remember you. It just took me awhile to recognise you because you look different," you looked at him up and down. "Look at you! You're taller than me now." You gestured at him with your palms opened, waving your hands over his grown body.

"More handsome now, am I right?" He struck a pose, hands bending upwards to point at himself with both thumbs. He sneaked a wink at you, making you jog down memory lane, remembering how his brother winked at you during your younger days. 

You huffed a laugh at his boldness, "I see that you never change." You smirked at Tommy, who had just shrugged his shoulders at your remark.

Your ears perked up when you heard Sarah giggling as she watched your interaction with Tommy. For a moment, you had totally forgotten where and what you were doing while talking with Tommy. You glanced at Sarah briefly before looking at Tommy again.

"She's your daughter?" You asked Tommy.

"Ew, no." Sarah scrunched her face in a disgusted way at Tommy. Tommy rolled his eyes at Sarah; you could tell they had a slight sibling-like relationship. From the realisation of their age, you knew that Sarah could not have been Tommy's daughter. 

"This is my dad!" She told you proudly as she slid her hand into Joel's. 

Your eyes slowly moved up to see Joel staring at you with an unreadable gaze. You used to be able to tell what he was thinking just by looking at him, but the time apart had faded your ability to do so. 

You did not know that he had a daughter. You wouldn't have known because you had cut off contact with him and the people who had wronged you after you left. After a few years, when you had moved on with the past, you were tempted to know how he was doing, but you did not bother to do anything about it, afraid of what feelings might come to the surface.

You wondered who Sarah's mom was, and guessing her age, you assumed that Talia might have been the one. Talia was the cause of your nightmare in high school. Thinking about what she did always made your blood simmer with hatred. You could forgive Joel, but Talia was that mean bitch that would take you so much longer to make peace with. With Sarah coming around, you assumed that Joel must have made her his wife, and it almost made the food that was processed in your stomach come back up your throat.

"I-I didn't know that," you tried to hide your surprise but the way your voice strained at the start was obvious to anyone. Your eyes went back and forth between him and Sarah. Finally, you could see the unmistakable similarities between them as they stood side by side. 

You squatted down in front of Sarah, gazing up at her with newfound adoration. "So you're a Miller, huh?" A soft smile on your face as you stated the information that you had just learned.

"Sarah Miller," she nodded her head.

"Well, I should have asked for your last name. You looked so familiar when I saw you that time," you tilted your head as you slowly traced her face with your eyes.

"I did?" She looked up at Joel for a few seconds, and you followed her gaze. Joel was standing still, eyes darting between you and Sarah. 

"I'm way prettier, though." She blurted out after turning back to you.

You involuntarily snorted, hearing her comparison with Joel. "Of course you are," you beamed at her confidence which she definitely did not inherit from her dad, "but you both have the same distracting smile." 

"What does that mean?" She furrowed her brows.

"It means that you have a beautiful smile, just like your dad when he was your age." You gently poked her cheeks with your index fingers, which made her smile.

Both of you were smiling to each other when Emma reminded you to quickly take the pictures. You stood up and held your hand out at Sarah, who gladly took it to follow you, standing in front of the camera.

"Okay, what serious pose do you wanna do?" 

Sarah crossed her arms without hesitation and puffed out her chest as best she could. She lifted her chin up, pursing her lips with knitted brows to seem fierce. You smirked at her actions, finding her adorable, before striking the same pose beside her. 

The second one was a fun pose. She had you piggyback her, and the two of you were laughing as the photographer caught the moment. Your eyes flicked at Joel and Tommy, who were looking on behind the photographer. Joel was staring at you with a forlorn look, which you did not miss before he tensed up when he caught you looking at him. 

"Good. Now, with the family." The photographer said, turning to Joel and Tommy.

The Miller brothers stepped forward to stand beside you, one on each side. Sarah was standing in front of you with your hands on her shoulders. Your heart started to beat faster as Joel came near you. He put a certain distance between you both when he stood beside you. 

"Closer, please." The photographer gestured with one hand at Joel and ordered him to stand closer towards you. 

Joel reluctantly took a step closer, which resulted in his arm brushing against yours. That made you stand still as you felt tingles running up your arms to your neck. Sarah turned her head slightly from the instinctive tightening grip of your hands on her shoulders. You relaxed your hands in a flash when you realised that you could have hurt her. 

"One, two, three!" The photographer raised his voice slightly, and you heard the camera clicking away. He stopped and lowered the camera, not satisfied with your expression.

"You gotta smile," He portrayed his own smile, looking at you and Joel. 

You turned your head to glance at Joel, and you saw him looking at you from the corner of his eyes when he noticed your movement. In an instant, you looked back at the front to see that the photographer was ready to continue taking photos. This time, you smiled without fail. 

Once it was done, Sarah turned around to say goodbye. You bent down slightly with open arms, and she gladly reached around you to snuggle against your chest. With warmth enveloping your heart, you closed your eyes and rested your chin on her head, taking in the sweet moment with her.

Tommy looked at both of you with eyes representing relief. He remembered you fondly because he regarded you as his older sister. You had come over to the house often to play with him and, oftentimes, look after him when Joel was not around. Unlike his older brother, you were gentle and kind to him. He was 11 when you left, and it broke his heart that his caring older sister was moving away. He blamed Joel for it for a while and showed resentment towards him. He heard rumours about what had happened from the kids in the neighbourhood who went to the same high school as you and Joel. He didn't know the truth of it all until he was grown enough to learn about the whole story from Joel.  

Tommy took a peek at Joel, who was standing beside you. He could tell that Joel had missed you too, even though he had not said it out loud for the past 12 years. He did not have to because with one look in his eyes, Tommy could feel his longing. He knew that his brother still felt guilty about what had happened, but all that he wanted was that the both of you could make up for it because he missed his family before the emotional hurricane happened. 

You cleared your throat from the awkwardness after Sarah held her dad's hand again.

"So, y'all heading straight home after this?" You tried to find the courage to look at Joel, who was already staring at you but failed to do so, finding comfort in Tommy instead.

"We're going to the hospital to visit Nana," Sarah blurted out which made you snapped your head towards her with a frown on your face.

"Sarah—"Joel quickly

"Nana is in the hospital?" Your voice was high-pitched when you took in the new information. You were still frowning when you shifted your gaze to Joel.

"You don't need to worry about it." Joel tried to dismiss it, but you were obviously not satisfied with his answer.

"What happened to Nana?" You took a step closer to him, which caused him to instinctively move a step away from you.

"Nothing." He avoided looking at you and gripped Sarah's hand tighter, pulling her away to escape. You stood there, watching him leave.

Tommy hesitated to move as he witnessed what had just happened. He touched the side of your arms to lessen your worry. Then, reaching into his pocket, he took out a folded piece of paper and handed it to you.

"There's my number in there, so feel free to call anytime. You can ask me about anything, and I will try my best to answer it. I miss you, sis. It's great to see you again." Teary-eyed, Tommy opened his arms slightly, wanting to hug you after 12 long years.

You welcomed him by wrapping his neck with your arms, tip-toeing slightly from his height. His grip around you was tight as he swayed you from side to side. 

"I miss you too, baby boy," you whispered in his ears, tears lingering on the edge of your eyes.

"I'm not a baby," he argued with an annoyed tone, just like when he was younger, fighting that he was just a boy and not a baby.

"You're still a baby to me." You pulled back with a tight-lipped smile, not wanting to cry, while you looked at his 24-year-old face. 

Tommy let you go and returned to a mischievous look, "Call me, okay?" You nodded. "I'll see you around." He winked before jogging away to catch up with his brother and niece.   

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